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hopefullyitsextensivebule · 8 months

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When The Lake Thawed Out: Chapter 4

Summary: In 1993, a young man goes missing near a lake in his hometown; the town heartbroken and having lost a spark in their lives. Now, after 30 years of unanswered questions, he comes home in one of the most intense heatwaves to ever hit the town of Little Franconia, seeing that things are the same and different. In this tale of discovery and family, watch as Joshua relearns the world around him and adjusts to the nuances of pop culture, technology, and generational rot. Writer’s Whining: Again... I am so sorry for putting this chapter out so late. I got distracted with things, and I kinda of lost my itch. But I'm back now. Warning(s): Angst. Word Count: 2K+ @List: @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @asparrowofthedawn @obetrolncocktails, @fallonfatality, @wetkleenex-gvf, @takenbythemadness, @heatsaboves @joshym, @freyjalw, @gvf23 @basiccortez @alwaysonthemend @losfacedevil @puzzle-gvf @sinsofstardust @glorpa @nessie-glorpa

The sun was a radiant, golden orb hanging high in the sky, its rays reflecting off the crystal clear water of the expansive swimming pool. The atmosphere was filled with the scent of chlorine, the sweet smell of sunscreen, and the faint hum of bees buzzing around the blooming flowers nearby.

As promised, Sam, Jamie, and their father, Jake, had come to the Wagner household to spend time with Daniel, Mr. Wagner, and his wife, Mrs. Wagner. Sam convinced Jake to come, much to his father's disapproval. However, it was possible since Danny would be at the house.

Upon arriving, Jake was greeted by a tearful Mr. Wagner. Jake knew it had been a long time coming, to which he had approached his friend and hugged him back. "It's good to see you again, Jacob," Mr. Wagner said, a little choked.

"Likewise, Daniel," he called him, patting his back. He pulled back and looked around at the spacious home. The home looked remodeled, with the smell of plaster at its last stage of drying, some paint, and other instances of a home makeover having been done. "This house… it's different?"

"Yeah," Mr. Wagner said, sitting on a kitchen stool that made him look like he was sitting on a chair due to his height. Jake tried to do the same, trying to mount the chair, but made him look like a child with his feet dangling off the seat. "We've had this house for such a long time, and we wanted to remodel it and restore it. But then we decided to get with the times and get techy with the appliances."

As Mr. Wagner explained all of the kitchen's features, Jake stared intently at the boys. They were all on the floor, Jamie, Sam, and Daniel playing a board game, at which Sam was winning. He watched with his cane in hand, having some linen set on his person. His hair was pulled back into a bun, some wisps of hair falling from his hairline. He watched his boys get along with Daniel but still felt a bit of dread.

"Here," said Mr. Wagner, presenting him a drink for the man, "just how you like it."

"Thanks, Dan," he told him, taking his drink to his lips and nodding, "Wow, exactly how I remembered it."

"Yeah," Mr. Wagner continued, "I'm so happy you came today. We missed you guys a lot."

"Yeah… you should be thanking the boys," Jake had joked, "I didn't want to go initially, but Sam kept yanking on my leg about it. Once I knew who was going to be here, I was okay."

"Still. Us old geezers gotta stick together," Mr. Wagner said, patting the man on his back. "Speaking of sticking together, I got an idea I wanna share with you…"

"What's the idea?" Jake asked. Mr. Wagner was to speak on it but had looked at the boys, who had muffled their clamoring of the game board to hear what was being said. "Hey boys, why don't you guys cool off in the pool? Your pop and I need to talk about things." Like children, they hastily got all their things and headed to the pool area.

The three migrated to the pool, Sam, Daniel, and Jake standing at the pool's edge, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. The boys dressed in bright swim trunks, their bare feet warm against the sun-baked concrete surrounding the pool.

"Last one in is a rotten egg!" shouted Sam, breaking into a run. He leaped high into the air, tucking his knees to his chest before cannonballing into the water, causing a great splash that soaked the poolside chairs.

Daniel, laughing, followed suit, his dive a bit more controlled. The coolness of the water enveloped them, washing away the summer day's heat. They emerged at the surface, grinning at each other before starting a playful water fight, their laughter echoing through the backyard. "Hey! You're forgetting the champion of cannonballing," Jake said, shaking his thumbs as if he were the big deal.

"Oh yeah? This is a first," Sam said, teasing his older brother. Jake had slowly backed away, readying himself for the challenge he set himself up for. He soon ran, leaping into the air. What should have been a graceful cannonball was more of a cat flailing its legs around. The boys had whipped their heads away from the splash that greeted them. Jamie returned for air, looking at his brother and friend for commentary.

"You're kidding, right?" Danny joked, Jamie splashing water violently at him along with Sam.

Meanwhile, Jake and Mr. Wagner were still amongst each other. They were deep in conversation, their eyes severe but hopeful.

"I don't know," Jake said, Mr. Wagner having proposed the idea of the boys working together at his record store. "Jamie and I aren't always seeing eye to eye, and I don't want Sammy to be alone at the store… he gets overwhelmed."

"I'll have their schedules together so that they won't be separate," Mr. Wagner urged, "Jake, I love you, but you gotta let these boys breathe. Let them be free."

"Mom and Dad gave us all the freedom in the world," Jake started, "and that freedom ruined our way of living."

"Jake… It's been years. You have to let Joshua rest," Mr. Wagner told Jake, his hand on his shoulder.

"That's easy for you to say… You don't have to wake up every day knowing your sibling is dead," Jake told him, his words like venom to the middle-aged man.

"Jake… I've lost people. Lori has lost people. We all lose people," Mr. Wagner explained, "there was nothing you could have done that day."

"YOU DON'T—" Jake looked to see the three boys still preoccupied with one another, "you don't know that," his whisper was harsh, "I was his brother."

"And as his brother, he would have wanted you to live your life filled with joy because that's what he was all about," Mr. Wagner stated, a hand on Jake's shoulder. "This not a way to live."

"Oh, and having nice new appliances and a big pool is what makes life worth living?" Jake jeered, "You knew I was in a bad place when I had my boys; you could have helped me."

"Jacob, I've tried so many times to get in contact with you, try and visit you, send you letters, but you closed yourself from everyone else," Mr. Wagner spoke with assertiveness, "The world moved on, you stayed stuck in the past… and I'm beginning to think you want your kids to stay stuck in the past with you."

Jake looked at Mr. Wagner with shocked eyes, "Excuse me?!"

"You want the boys to live that day with you. They don't deserve to be pulled into that," he said. Mr. Wagner had looked at Jake and spoke, "Look… the kids are adults, and if they want to work at my store, they are more than welcome. Don't let them miss out on this opportunity."

Jake had wanted to say something but held his tongue. Jake had looked casually at the pool and noticed Sam with his head down in his arms, his shoulders jerking. Beside him was Daniel, rubbing his back as if he were comforting him, lips perked to lull him. Jake scanned for Jamie, who had his arms crossed, looking upset. When Jamie looked up to see his father looking at him, he pulled his arm out and gave him a harsh middle finger, and mouthed the words fuck you.

This behavior was acceptable for a teenager but not a 27-year-old.

Jake had rubbed his face and sighed. "Fine… Fine, give them the jobs," Jake said, getting up and going to get his jacket.

"Where are you going?" Mr. Wagner asked, arms up in confusion.

"I'm going back to the house. When the boys are ready to come home, send them my way," Jake said as he soon left the house.

Mr. Wagner had sighed, rubbing his face. Mrs. Lori Wagner came downstairs with some beach towels, seeing the energy in the room, and placed the towel on the kitchen counter and approached her husband. "I told you he'd still feel this way," she told her husband.

"I know… but he should know that-" Mrs. Wagner had cut him off and cupped his face.

"He'll come around… right now, let's tend to the boys," she said, hand on his chest to steady him as he looked defeated and frustrated. Mr. Wagner nodded, kissing his wife chastely on her lips and rubbing her side.

After a while, Sam and Jamie were on the poolside, Jamie's stretched over the pool chair, hands behind his head as he tried to relax. Sam sits on the edge with a towel around his shoulders, hair pulled behind his ears, and a pool of water around his feet. Daniel returned to them with two drinks of lemonade for Sam and Jamie. "You know, if you want, you can stay over here," Daniel said, giving the drink to Sam.

"I would love to, but I don't think that'll be a good idea," Sam said, drinking his lemonade.

"Danny, why would you ask? You know how our dad is," Jamie said, sitting up and drinking his lemonade, rushing and emptying the cup. "He's never gonna let up."

"I know… I just wanted to ease the tension," Daniel feeling slightly regretful, Sam having placed a hand on his shoulder.

"We should head back home…" Sam said, "I don't wanna leave our dad by himself," Jamie sighed, cursing and grabbing his towel to dry off. Sam had his face in his hands, the tips of his fingers pressing into his forehead and turning white. Daniel had felt him start to shake, so he pulled Sam close and rubbed his back.

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Jake was on his good knee, trying to fix up an old VCR. He had returned home, the impulse to see Josh urgent. He had wiped the dust off the old VCR. His fingertips were caked with grey matter as Jake started to plug everything in. He had found an old box of tapes, revealed to be home videos of a time before. Turning on the TV and changing the settings, the iconic blue screen greets him. He inserts a home video, thinking of what it would show. It had been ages.

With a start, a much younger version of his mother spoke. "Dammit, Kelly, I told you not to eat those cookies!" Jake laughed at how his mother reacted. The camera panned to a man named Kelly, eyes looking heavy as he enjoyed himself. Another man appeared, getting a cookie from the plate. It was Jake himself, younger, full of life and hopes and dreams. "Jacob!" his mother says, the younger boy laughing, a crumble falling out of his mouth. Jake, in the now, had slightly laughed as his mother gave up and chuckled at the men in her life.

However, seeing his twin brother on the screen grabbed his attention the most. His hair was curly and unkept, a reflection of his wild nature. And his voice echoed through the room, and his infectious laughter filled their ears. His laugh was so contagious that everyone would follow behind, whether the joke was good or not. It was both a comforting and bittersweet moment for him, having been reminded of his time with him. Since that awful day, Jake never thought they would be able to relive those precious moments again. Yet, it felt like he was present with him again, and his heart felt whole again for a fleeting moment.

But only for a second or so.

The video ended with Josh kissing his older brother on his cheek, Jake yelling out dramatically, and Josh continuing his assault.

The video stopped.

Jake was now met with his TV's black mirror, seeing himself. He had been crying while watching the videos, unaware of it. He wiped his face and headed to his room, laying down on his bed and having his face on the pillow.

A sob left him.

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babylooneytoonz · 3 years

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Curly Hair and Blue Eyes, Just like yours

Pairing: Clark Kent x Fem! Reader

Summary: You decide to tell Clark Kent about the daughter he never knew he had with you, and he only wishes he had found out about her in a better situation.

Warnings: Kidnapping , Violence, Angst

[My Masterlist]

"Baby, we gotta go, come on out now," You called from the kitchen, having stuffed Piper's lunchbox into her tiny little bag that you had now propped on your shoulder. Little feet raced down the staircase of your home and you smiled, when you saw the little blue eyed girl, her hair neatly settled into two pigtails on either sides of her head, poked her head in. You knelt down in front of her, helping her put her bag on.

"Mommy? I wanna have Uncle Jerry's apple pie— " You smiled as you stood back up, quickly kissing the top of her head, as you took her hand in yours, your fingers clasping against the five year old's tiny ones.

"Well, if you are a good girl at school today, mommy might think of baking you one instead for dessert," you smiled down at her as the two of you walked out of your tiny two bedroom apartment in a tiny, cramped street in Metropolis where you had lived for years. You buckled her into the passenger seat, laughing to yourself listening to her as she had decided that now was the time to speak to her doll.

Being a single mother, there was so much on your plate always. Your days started with leaving Piper at Kindergarten, heading straight to the grocery store where you worked after leaving her. Four hours later you drove back to her school, picked her up and brought her back to the store with you, where you fed her and let her play around at the back, until 4 pm when finally, you ended your shift and the two of you drove your way back home.

You straightened the crease on your shirt, leaning against the fence along with the other young mothers who were waiting to collect their wards from kindergarten, just like you were until the bell rang somewhere inside, and a flurry of kids arrived, like bees floundering in the air.

You knelt down, throwing your arms out at the sight of your daughter who pushed herself into you, and you kissed her on her nose, and she giggled.

"Mommy, guess who vi- vitit— " She stammered, trying to say the word but she couldn't.

"Visited?" You asked, smiling at her, and she nodded.

"Visi- ted today."

You pulled yourself up, taking her hand in yours as you began walking with her towards the car parking, glancing down at her every ten seconds or so.

"Superman!!" She excitedly screamed, clapping as you opened the car door for her. The smile that was earlier on your lips dropped at the mention of him, and instead, a hollow look now ghosted your eyes as you regarded her briefly, giving her a fake smile and nodded, buckling her into the passenger seat, "Hm, I see. Why was he there?"

The car ride back to the store was a quiet one from your end, where only Piper spoke telling you of how the Superman had visited the kindergarten today, spent time with the children, telling them how they all were strong enough to grow up and be Supermen and Superwomen themselves. There were times when you snorted, not win disbelief, quickly masking it with a fake laugh, listening to your daughter talk about him.

You hated him, atleast you thought you did. You realized, the more you listened to her describe, Clark Kent was just the same— just the way you remembered him to be six years ago, when you had last met him.

How were you supposed to tell the innocent little child what Superman used to be to you?

Six years back, he had left you, leaving you broken hearted, and had walked out of your life, without giving you a reason as to where had you gone wrong in your relationship with him. No matter how much you tried, pleading and begging him to reconsider, it appeared as though he had already made up his mind.

"[Y/N], this will hurt for a while, and then you will be okay, trust me."

How the hell were you supposed to trust him when he was the one responsible for the excruciatingly painful heartbreak that you had witnessed?

You watched him, followed the news, watching every single success that Superman attained, his face plastered to your television screen, his charming boyish smile tugging at your heartstrings but you still felt happy, knowing how he was saving the world. Although, ironically, he had done nothing to save your crumbling relationship.

You would have still forgiven him, had you not found out, just a month after he had left you, that you were pregnant.

At first, you thought that Clark deserved to know— after all, he had every right to be in his child's life, and you were no one to take that boon away from him, or your child. Sucking it up, you had forced yourself to go to the Daily Planet building, to talk to Clark, to tell him what you had found out.

You didn't. You couldn't. Because he looked happy with Lois Lane. So you left.

Your home smelt like a freshly baked apple pie, as you stood against the kitchen counter, the baked goodie laying in front of you just like you had promised your little girl. Outside, in the living room, you could hear the television on, as Piper watched her favourite cartoon, her chuckling audible to you, which made you smile. Your golden retriever, Berry, nudged her head against your leg, causing you to bend slightly so you could pet the top of her head before she scampered off to be with her best friend once more.

"Piper, baby. Berry wants to go out."

The little girl dashed into the kitchen upon hearing your words, her excited eyes glimmering with delight as she began looking up at you.

"Mommy, can I take her out?"

You thought for a minute, planning to refuse at first but then you gave up, because the two of you, your baby girl and your furry baby both looking at you with big, googly eyes that you couldn't resist.

"Fine but stay close to the front gate, and inside. There's a lot of traffic outside, love. Mommy's gonna be watching you from the window here, alright?" You gave her a smile, watching as the two of them walked off, the dog first, followed by the girl— smiling at how considerate the big dog was around her tiny form.

While you were readying the plates, setting the dinner table, you momentarily made sure to glance out of the window, from where you could see them both, running around, being the big goofballs the two of them were. What you failed to see, was a dark hooded man, standing by your fence, watching the girl carefully, observing.

A few minutes passed by, and you decided that it was time to go out and fetch the two back inside, when you heard Berry mediating between loud barks, and pained whines. Your eyes widened, as you ran out of the house, on bare foot, the pads of your feet grazing against the grass when you saw two men, throwing your daughter into the back of a car, Berry having tied ruthlessly by her neck to the tree, the hold so hard that she was almost suffocating. By the time you ran to the gate the car was already turning down the street, until it finally disappeared out of view and you fell to your knees, screaming, crying, your heart pounding inside your chest. Someone had taken your daughter.

Finally, after two minutes of screaming your heart out, you leapt to your feet freeing Berry from the leash that had her pinned to the tree, tears still streaming down your face as you ran inside, grabbing your phone and your car keys.

There was only one who could bring her back, and there was nothing stopping you from asking from his help, because only he could do it— find her from whichever corner of Metropolis they were hiding her and bring her back.

At some time between you driving recklessly through the streets of Metropolis to the time you finally reached the Daily Planet building once again, the sky started pouring, heavily. You parked your car in the parking lot opposite to the building and without caring, you stepped out into the rain, racing your way into the building.

"Clark Kent, please, it's urgent," you literally slammed your moist fists against the desk of the office receptionist, her eyes widening when she saw the condition you were in— your hair and your outfit drenched in the rain, sticking to you, your body trembling with cold.

"Uh, sure, but who do I say is asking for him?"

"[Y/N], and please, tell him it's urgent."

You began rubbing the side of your arms fervently, trying to keep yourself warm, as the receptionist pulled the receiver to her ears, and looked up at you briefly, "Mr. Kent, a Miss [Y/N] is here. She, uh, says it's urgent, and it does look like she is in a state of.. emergency."

The receptionist disconnected the phone, slowly placing the receiver back. She looked up at you, and informed you that Clark was on his way now to see you. You began biting the insides of your cheeks— a sudden nervousness killing you from the inside. How were you going to tell him? What if he refused to help you? Where was Piper? All kinds of depressive thoughts began to sneak into your head when his silhouette finally appeared, his eyes falling on you as he was walking towards you.

Clark Kent pushed his glasses nervously over the bridge of his nose, his heart racing. He wasn't sure, why after all those years you were here to see him, and that too, this urgently. He hoped you were okay. When he stepped out of his office, his eyes fell on you. His heart broke, yet again, on the sight of you— you were dripping from head to toe, your body shivering due to the cold. His pace increased, until he was literally running towards you, his eyes fixed on yours.

"Clark." You began, only to find yourself give in, to nerve wracking sobs as he pulled you into his embrace, letting his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him, as he soothingly rubbed your back, thousands of memories flooding back into both your minds.

"Listen to me, there's something you should know," you hicupped, still crying hysterically. Clark slowly walked you away from the crowd that had now gathered around you and him until the two of you were in an empty cabin. He lowered you in a leather chair and pulled one in front of you, letting his palms rest on your knees, "Whats wrong?"

"I didn't know who else to go to, I -- Clark," you swallowed the lump forming in your throat, you didn't know how to begin. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, or tried to, but the heaviness of your chest couldn't let you breathe, "Someone took my daughter, right from in front of my eyes. Two men, dressed in black, they came and they took her, stuffed her into their car, Clark, I don't know where to find her, what to do."

Clark's face fell— it was as though someone had cut off his oxygen supply— what else was he expecting? That you would wait for him all your life? He looked at you in a strangled way, his eyes narrowed at you, but he wasn't angry. He just looked hurt. The hands that were resting on your knees slowly pulled away and you winced at the loss of the contact, looking up at him through your teary eyes. He pressed his lips together and parted his lips, "Do you have any idea who could have —"

"No, I— Who could mean harm to an innocent little five year old, Clark? She can't even hurt a fly." You cried.

"Five.. five year old?" Clark croak, as if something was lodged inside his throat.

"Five years, and a few months to be exact.." you whispered, as your fingers gently pulled out your wallet, and inside was a picture of your beautiful little girl, her long black hair, just like Clark's curled atop her matted head. She was a true replica of him, having his luscious curls, big blue eyes and the kindest of the smiles. You slowly extended the wallet towards him, your hand trembling as your heart beat like a supersonic train. "That's— that's her, Piper ..Kent?"

Clark stepped abruptly from the chair, his fingers clasping your wallet. Weakly, he looked down at the photo, the realization sinking into him. The eyes that looked back at him from the photo were the same eyes, he didn't need proof to believe that she was his.

"Clark, I know you have questions but this isn't the time, please help me, they took her! I — I need Superman.. she needs Superman.." You pleaded him, with your eyes, looking at him.

The next minute, Clark had his hand on your shoulder, as he was walking you out of the cabin, his eyes not meeting yours.

"Get back home, incase they call for ransom or something. I will get her back."

What you didn't see when you were on your way out, was the way Clark broke down after you left. He lowered himself to his knees, watching you walk off until he had both his hands pulling at his own hair, his eyes glowing with the heat vision, his body suddenly on fire.

Two days passed, and with these two days, whatever sanity that was left within you, drained out, anxiety taking over completely. You went to the Daily Planet, looking for Clark, but he wasn't there— of course he was out looking for her. But it still didn't let you rest any easier.

By the time it was nightfall, you were pacing around in your living room, your kitchen a mess, dirty utensils from two days back still soiling the sink. Your hair were a mess as you had not bothered even running a hand through them, for you were completely shaken and distraught.

Just when you thought that your mind will probably burst with the amount of worry that was eating at you, the doorbell rang. You ran— it was like running a life marathon— as you unlocked the door, finding Superman standing at your doorstep, holding Piper in his arms, the little girl having her arm locked around Superman's neck, her face glimmering with excitement.

"Oh my fucking—" you cursed under your breath, sniffling in retaliation to the sight and n front of you as you threw out your arms towards her, "Piper, baby! You're okay! Jesus, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I should have been careful— "

"Mommy, do you know that Superman saved me from the bad men?" You gasped, almost wide eyed as Piper leapt into your arms, and you buried your face into your daughter's hair, nuzzling your nose against her face, holding her tight, as though if you didn't, she would slip away. What suprised you, and sort of, made you smile was her innocence — she was kidnapped and probably locked up somewhere and yet all she could think of or talk about was how Superman had saved her life. Your eyes flew to his, meeting his halfway, you could see how exhausted he looked, and a look passed between the two of you— a look of love that had been buried years back— the two of you didn't need words, and the two of you could feel how the other one felt — probably a mix of relief, anger and a lot of questions.

"Yes, he did—" You smiled, "Are you okay, Piper? Love, are you hurt?"

"She's— " Superman began speaking, and you looked at him once again, "She's fine. She isn't hurt, I made sure."

You bit your lip, your fingers toying with your daughter's curls. Finally, you stepped inside, leaving the door wide open, glancing at Superman with the corner of your eyes, "I know you want to to talk. Please, come in."

"Mommy? Is Superman staying with us tonight?"

"Piper, darling, would you go and check on Berry? She's not feeling well ever since you left—" You placed her on the floor, carefully eyeing her for any injuries, but much to your relief, there were none.

"Alright, mommy."

"You should have told me, [Y/N]. She's mine too!"

You gasped, almost inaudible, trying to suck in a mouthful of air as you fixed yourself by the window, looking out, almost cautiously, your mind still in a state of alert. When Clark saw this, he walked up to where you were, staring out of the window, and you saw his reflection behind you, his hands on your shoulders as he turned you around, "they won't come back, [Y/N]. I made sure of it."

"Who were they? What did they want?" You frowned, his hands still on your shoulders but you didn't seem to mind.

"They weren't anyone of importance, they did it for ransom, having randomly decided to kidnap her and ask you for money. How were they supposed to know they kidnapped my daughter? Like hell, I didn't know I had a daughter," he almost froze, letting his hands drop, his eyes now looking at you for answers.

You took a deep breath, running your hands through your hair, almost pulling at them in an attempt to straighten them a little, but Clark grabbed your arm, his grip on your wrist as he lowered it, showing you how his patience was wearing thin.

"You left me, Clark. Just because I was pregnant, it didn't mean I was selfish to use her as a means to get you back, or to burden you with her responsibility." You hissed, trying to pull on your wrists, but of course, how were you to match the Kryptonian's strength?

"I would have never left if I knew—"

"And this, Clark, is exactly why I didn't want you to find out. I didn't want you to decide to stay with me because.. of a baby," you had begun pacing in the living room now and Clark just stood by the window, his arms crossed against his chest, "You would have hated me one day." Suddenly, you stopped speaking and your eyes widened, your head sharply turning towards him and a thin frown appearing on his sublime features. The next minute, you were glaring at him, poking him in the chest with your index finger, "Before accusing me of hiding this from you, how would you justify you leaving me without giving me the reason? You didn't care about me, you didn't care about the fact that I cried myself to sleep for weeks, inwardly tortured for months. How very hypocritical of you, Mr. Kent."

He grabbed your hand, however his hold remained gentle on you. Very slowly, he twisted your arm behind you, stepping closer, in a way pinning you to the wall behind, looking down at you. He then scoffed— a dry, sarcastic scoff.

"I left you because I had no choice. Luthor took Lois—"

"Oh, great, Lois, and that's why you left me—"

"He took Lois because he thought Lois is the woman I'm with. You realize what this means? If he knew or find out it was you, he would have thrown you off that building. I couldn't have lived with that. I did it for you!"

Tears streamed down your face, his words finally sinking in. You parted your lips and all that came out was a gush of air. Clark placed his hand on your cheek, reluctantly, half expecting for you to push it away, but you didn't. His fingers felt hot against your skin, like embers as he cupped your face, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek.

"I came..one month after you left me .. to your office ..when I found out.. wanted to tell you," He nodded, blinking as he waited for you to continue. "I saw you with Lois. You looked happy, the two of you."

"Lois is just a friend, I never—" he frowned, his hand dropping from your cheek as he ran his fingers through his own hair, his exasperation evident, "It was always you."

"I can't believe this, Clark. I fucking cried myself to sleep thinking you hated me," you sniffled, falling back against your couch like a lifeless corpse, bringing both your palms to your face as you buried yourself to those, hiding yourself from his intense eyes, "That girl—" You looked up, your cheeks now stained with your tears, "she is more you than she is me. In every single way. I needed you Clark Kent."

"I'm sorry, I should never have —"

"Six years, Clark. You missed her birth, you missed watching her grow up, she was without you, and we were okay, you know? And now this happens and my life is a mess once again—"

He looked at you, dejected, his glances mediating between the floor to you and then back down to his hands. Finally, he cleared his throat, and you looked up at him, looking at the beaten Superman in front of you. He was everything but the strong superhero you knew in that split second. He was a broken man— just a man— in a spandex costume.

"If I could go back and change what I did, I'd do it in a blink of my eye."

You smiled, and replied, "It's easy to say. It wasn't your fault, though. It was perhaps, we were never meant to be."

His face fell, and he didn't try to hide it from you. You bit your lip, tasting the metal on your tastebuds as he slowly took a step away, his eyes moving from you to the stairs, perhaps hoping that he could see Piper before he left.

"If something ever happens, if you need me, I'll be there, [Y/N]. I couldn't be there when you needed me, but I'll be there from now until you don't need me anymore."

Would it ever happen when you won't need him any more? You never truly moved on, no matter how hard you tried. The void remained, in your heart, in your life and in your cold bed. Six years , and you couldn't make yourself fall in love with anyone, because no one was Clark Kent, they could never be him.

"Leaving us again, are you?" You wiped your tears with the back of your palm, and he looked at you, suprised as though he had heard you wrong.

You smiled and you looked down at your hands, they were trembling as you rubbed them fervently against the fabric of your thigh, and stood up, hesitantly at first, before a little confidence built up inside you when you saw the softness in his eyes as you walked towards him. This time you pinned him to the wall, and the taller man let you, without even trying to attempt to escape or show you just strong he was. He let himself be entrapped as you grabbed his chin, rather unceremoniously, yanking his head so he was looking down.

"Don't you want me to—" he stopped talking, finally realizing what you were trying to say to him.

"Six years, I watched you on TV, and that's just it. That was the nearest I had to feeling anything. Is this what true love is? You know someone isn't coming back yet you can't stop loving em?"

He smiled, but didn't reply. He just kept gazing into your eyes.

"Go on, go. The world needs you, Superman."

You smacked him on his chest, watching his eyes to shift to confusion once again. Awkwardly, he tilted his head to his side and shook his head, only his chin moving.

"And you? You don't?" He asked.

"No." You smiled smugly, watching his face fall, so you hurriedly added, "I need Clark Kent, not Superman. He is very broody, and I am scared of him. I would rather have my Clark back."

He gave you a toothy smile, and in that minute, he wasn't Superman anymore. He was your Clark Kent, only in a spandex costume. He wrapped you in your arms , pulling you to him, bringing down his lips to the side of your jaw, as he kissed your chin at first, and then moved on to your lips. Your lips met his, after a long time, and your insides exploded, your hands flying to the back of his head.

"Mommy!"

Clark cleared his throat, and you immediately pulled away wiping your lips and the two of you looked at each other, both your cheeks a slight crimson. You two felt like a child again, having been caught stealing cookies and Clark smiled, sitting down until he was squatting on his heels. He threw out his hand towards Piper and she ran up to him, settling herself on his thigh.

Clark looked up at you, and so did she, and you couldn't help but give them a warm smile back, because the sight was melting your heart. It was like a mini me, Clark and his little female version, looking right at you with that big blue eyes.

"What?" You asked Clark.

"Shall we tell her? Shall I tell her?"

"No, Superman." You changed your voice, grabbing him by his Cape as you pulled him up, "I don't want targets on her back. Why don't you just go on out, change into some human clothes and then we can tell her who her father is."

"But sweetheart, it's a little too late for that don't you think?" He pointed towards Piper, and your head shot towards her, you jaw almost dropping when you saw her eyes turn orange due to the heat vision, just for a bit before they turned blue again, and Superman slid his arm through your waist.

"It's okay, let them find out, Superman has a family. They still can't touch a hair on your head, not until I'm around. And I'm not..going anywhere."

"No, sweety," you gave him an apologetic smile, "that's not what I'm worried about. I'm worried she's gonna go to school and boast around how her dad's Superman."

"Well, they are going to find out, one day or the other."

"You're right, Clark." You nodded, as the two of you watched her scamper off, chasing Berry, you leaning on to him.

A/N- Fuck, I realised I really got carried away with this one. I think this is the longest one shot I've ever written? I thought I'd break it into parts but oh well. I hope you guys liked it.

#clark kent x reader #superman x reader #superman #clark kent #kal-el x reader #clark kent x y/n #clark kent x you #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill

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nostalgiaruinedme · 3 years

Text

Monster

Prompt: Mistreated by Authorities Fandom: TMNT 2012 Ao3 link: here Summary: After the Kraang and the Triceratons and the Shredder, the world is finally safe, save for the scars left behind. But humanity is looking for a scapegoat to blame all the tragedies on, and their gaze lands on the mutants. Now, every government in the world is after any and all mutants, but first and foremost, they want the turtles. And then the EPF capture Donatello.

First I’d like to thank the amazing @morikothehalfangel for beta reading this for me <3

I put way too much effort into researching the effects of torture by asphyxiation for this oneshot wow. I now know more about asphyxiation than I ever wanted to know but ~accuracy is important~

I mean I think it's accurate. I DID MY BEST OK and also I've been in the hospital because I couldn't breathe (asthma not torture i promise <3) so I based some of it a little on my own experiences, just amped up a billion percent.

Also I know a lot of people are like "THEY'RE TURTLES THEY CAN HOLD THEIR BREATH FOR A WHILE" but like- that's a great headcanon that I love reading about but considering they nearly did suffocate in that one episode where that one triceraton released all the air from their cell, I don't think it's canon. And even if it was canon I wanna write this so I'm disregarding it pff

PLEASE mind the warnings in the summary. Don't read anything that will trigger you, take your safety first ok? That's more important than reading a fic.

Okay, that's all. Please enjoy! and suffer.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: - Self hatred - Depression - Asphyxiation - Torture - Briefly mentioned suicide attempt -

Everyone is good at heart.

If you asked April 5 years ago what she thought about the inherent good or evilness of humanity, that would've been the answer she gave. A typical one, maybe, full of clichés and misplaced optimism, but it was also one she truly believed. Sure, sometimes that goodness had been shoved deep down and locked in a cage. Sometimes it was so long gone even its owner would forget it existed. Sometimes it was buried so deep not even god could tear it from its depths and bring it to the sunlight... but regardless, it was there, somewhere. To be good or not was just a matter of choice. Everyone was good at heart.

But that was then. And this was now. The time she believed in the goodness of all was before a time before a seething Casey Jones had marched into her apartment and shoved his phone into her face, a time before he said nothing as she read the article on the screen, her confusion slowly morphing into absolute horror.

"Mutant Responsible for Destruction of City Finally Apprehended", it read, and below that deceptive headline was a photo of someone she knew all too well. His mask was gone, one eye bruised shut, and a hand outstretched towards whoever was holding the camera in a last ditch effort to hide his face. It had been a fruitless endeavor, unfortunately; five more photos followed, and April had no doubt in her mind that there were plenty more in circulation elsewhere. Every news station in New York—no, scratch that; every news station in the country was rushing to cover this story, and probably a few hundred more channels across the world as well. It was big news after all. After years of trying to catch the so-called evil mutants the public had taken to blame for all of their problems, they finally got one of them. It didn't matter how wrong the stories were... the people who caught him were going to be praised as heroes.

"They got Donnie."

Casey's words weren't necessary—April easily recognized who was in the photo—but hearing them still made her breath hitch, all hope of this being a dream or imagined crashing down around her. This was all too real. Humans capturing the four brothers had always been a danger, they knew that, but to actually have it happen to one of them...

April guessed that after Tokka returned to Earth three years ago, they should've seen it coming. Bishop had tried his hardest to repair the Utrom's relationship with humanity, specifically the Earth Protection Force in this case, and had very nearly succeeded too. But the officials he was working with were stubborn, and after seeing the turtles in action themselves, they were terrified. It didn't matter that they had been working to save them or that they weren't the bad guys; those damn officials only saw a powerful threat they couldn't control.

They were evil men. And evil destroys what it can't control.

So they shattered what was left of the Utrom council's relations with humanity, and ensured the rest of the world did too. And then they used Earth's real saviors as scapegoats.

Aliens coming to Earth, capturing humanity countless times and mutating them into mindless slaves? The mutants' faults. The destroyed buildings and sounds of fighting and screaming all night long? The mutants' faults. The increase in robberies and kidnappings by inhumane creatures and robotic ninjas? The mutants' faults. Giant alien turtle lighting New York on fire? Mutants' fault. Dinosaurs invading? Mutants' fault. Ghosts rising? Mutants' fault. Cultish whispers? Mutants. It was all their fault.

And at the front of it all, they blamed the turtles specifically.

The four brothers pretended they didn't care. All of them. Mikey just joked about it, claiming those humans were clearly just jealous they couldn't save the Earth like they did. Raph got angry, obviously, but he pretended it was because of just 'humans in general', and that the accusations weren't hitting as hard as everyone knew they were. Leo used this to reason that they just needed to try harder and save more people... If they did more good, he said, people would speak up to defend them. He never quite managed to hide the hurt that came when no one did.

And Donnie... Donnie took all the allegations right to the heart.

He buried himself in inventions, the only one of his brothers who didn't seem to suffocate from the isolation, and never spoke of it. April tried to talk to him and Casey did too. Both were all too aware of the thoughts Donnie had about himself. While his brothers had their own insecurities, Donnie held the worst ones about just what he was. A Monster, he believed, despite their assurances he was anything but. This situation just made it all worse.

And then Donnie left the lair by himself. He'd gotten himself captured.

"What about his brothers?" April whispered, eyes still locked on the article. Casey sighed.

"They're obviously panicking... Leo's planning a rescue mission tonight, and Raph massacred his punch dummy and Mikey's trying to keep both of them from going on a suicide solo mission right now, in the daylight. It's not looking too good, Red, this isn't like any other time..."

It wasn't. They'd all been captured by the enemy before, but that was by underground organizations and alien terrorists and chaotic mutants. This was more than that. Donnie had been arrested by the EPF, a military organization... if you could even call it an arrest. He sure as hell wasn't gonna get a lawyer, that was for sure, and he'd probably be turned over to scientists the second he refused to tell them anything useful. This wasn't something they could just sneak into, fix, and then be on their way.

This was the entire United States government they had to go up again.

"We gotta get him out of there," April said, pushing the phone away. She couldn't look at it for another second. "He's barely been gone a day and his face is plastered everywhere online, we don't have a lot of time. When are the guys planning on going?"

"Right before sundown, so in about an hour," Casey said, returning his phone to his pocket. "I don't know what Leo's got planned, but we have just enough time to get ready and I told them we'd meet them there."

April nodded firmly, without even a hint of hesitance.

"Let's get going."

***

When Donatello was little, he liked to pretend there was a monster living under his bed.

A common nightmare among children, he knew what it was. Most children feared what lived under their bed, and when they did think there was one hiding there... it wasn't because they wanted it there; it was because they hated the idea. They would beg their parents to run into the room and shine a flashlight underneath, to hug them tightly and assure them that monsters weren't real, it's all in your head. Some braver children might even get up to check themselves, armed with a foam sword or a plastic spear, bravely embarking on a quest to kill the monster, for it was an enemy.

But to Donnie, the imagined monster under his bed wasn't hated. It was a friend. It was someone like him.

The fear of being a monster had started within the turtle when he was small, when he first started learning about the world above him. His brothers had found mankind interesting, sure, but it was he who wanted to know everything about them. What were their kids like? What did they eat? Why did they live so close to the sky? How did they look? How come they couldn't meet them? These were the questions that he'd sneak into Splinter's room for answers to long after his brothers had gone to sleep.

Because Donnie wanted answers, and his curiosity would never be satisfied until he knew all there was to know.

But as Donatello's knowledge grew, so did his own insecurities. He now knew what human children were like (different from him). He now knew why they couldn't meet them (they would be terrified). Because Donnie was a mutant. He was the scary monster they imagined under their beds, the one they wanted their parents to protect them from... He was what they feared.

So he took comfort in imagining his own monster under his bed, one that was even scarier than him. But he never hated or feared this monster. No, he wouldn't be like the human children. It didn't matter how scary this monster was, he decided, he would befriend and love it no matter how it looked. Because he was a monster too, and monsters had to stick together, right?

It only took a few years longer for Donnie to stop pretending he had a monster hiding under his bed (though he still took comfort in the thought every once in a while), but it took him much, much longer to stop thinking of himself as one. So many nights of sitting beside Casey and April, both assuring him he was anything but, and so many long years of doubting his place in their lives. It took determination on all three's part but eventually, he even saw himself as something normal, someone who could actually fit in their tiny group of three instead of the monstrous invader they swore he wasn't.

"We want you in this too," April had sworn, and Casey confessed the same only moments later. Donnie had cried. A day later, he finally believed them, and the three started the happiest relationship of their lives. He finally found himself fitting in, and finally, finally... he thought he had defeated his thoughts.

But that was then, and this was now.

He stood still as dozens of curious, terrified, and disgusted eyes watched him, some trying to get the best look while others tried to distract themselves from his existence. Never before in his life did he feel more like a monster than he did now. All of his progress had been destroyed.

Donnie stared at the men surrounding him on all sides, cursing the glass prison they kept him in. They didn't even let him have enough dignity to keep him in a normal, dusty, dirty cell with corners, did they? No, they had to keep him in a round glass one like some animal, one they could keep a constant watch over from all sides. He couldn't hide anywhere. He had to stand there in the silence.

Donnie wanted nothing more than to hide in his shell just to get away from the prying eyes. But that wasn't normal, was it? He knew that'd only make them stare even harder.

He wished they'd say something. The EPF had taken him, fair enough—Donnie knew they had been after them for months now. But instead of the torture, lifelong prison sentence, scientific experiments, or questioning he had expected, there was... nothing. After the tranquilizer they had shot him wore off, he'd been shoved in this stupid cell and left there for at least 6 hours now. Guards and various EPF staff watched him, spoke in hushed whispers about him and made a few phone calls, and even took a few photos, but that was it. They hadn't spoken a word to him.

Donatello didn't know whether to be relieved or horrified about that. He just wanted to go home.

"Come on, guys..." Donnie muttered, eyes focused on the single window in the room. It was starting to get dark out; his brothers should be coming soon, right? They were at least ready to go by now, if they weren't already on their way. He just had to be patient. "Please hurry..."

"There you are."

Donnie quickly turned around, cursing himself for not realizing that someone had snuck up behind him. To be fair, he had felt watched from all directions since the moment he had woken up, and still did, so one more set of eyes hadn't been much different, but even so... He was a ninja, damn it! He should have realized that someone had approached his cage before they even said anything.

There stood one of the EPF officers, clearly one of their higher-ups, judging by the many many badges he wore on his chest. He had a grim look on his face, yet a hint of satisfaction was hidden in his eyes behind the frown on his lips. Though Donnie didn't know him, he could tell just by looking at him that this was not a good man; he was a man out for power and without sympathy.

Donnie folded his arms across his plastron defensively and met his eyes. However, he was still upset about being given the silent treatment for three hours, so he didn't bother to reply.

They hadn't answered him, so why should he answer them?

"Not a big talker, huh? That's alright." The man said, voice matter-of-fact and calm as could be. "As long as you answer my questions, we won't have a problem, mutant. You don't have to talk any more than that, I promise."

Donnie clenched his teeth. The man smiled.

"You and those other turtles have been on the run for quite some time, haven't you?" He continued, hands behind his back. "I understand you four may not have much experience with the law, as you have been completely disregarding it for years now... but that's not something that's allowed.

"You're wanted by every government and legal system in the world for your crimes against humanity. You've nearly caused the extinction of mankind a dozen times over, yet you refuse to face consequences for your actions. On one hand, I see why you'd be scared to get caught for that, but it's still quite dishonorable, avoiding justice like that. You're running from the law. What should one make of that, mutant?"

'That you're all ungrateful pieces of shit,' Donnie thought, but managed to keep to himself. They nearly sacrificed their very lives just to save this stupid planet, yet here they were blaming him for it. He couldn't keep the scowl off of his face as the man continued to stare, though, no matter how hard he fought to keep his expression blank.

"It's not safe to let you continue to wander the Earth on your own. You'll try and kill us all again, and that's an international threat we can't let slide. But," The man leaned forward slightly, placing a hand over his heart as a sign of trust that Donatello knew better than to believe, "I am a very powerful man. You tell me where we can find the rest of those responsible, and I'll make sure you and the other mutants live a decent life. In captivity, of course, I can't change that, but it will be relatively peaceful."

Donatello tried to calm his breathing, keeping his mouth firmly shut. He didn't give a damn what this man would say; he'd never give up his brothers' locations—who did he think he was? He wouldn't tell him where any of the other mutants he knew were either. The EPF could do whatever they wanted with him... He'd never speak a word.

"Of course, there's other ways to get information out of you," The man continued, voice overbearingly calm and carefree. "Maybe not on where those other freaks are hiding. But there's plenty to learn from mutants' very existence, isn't there?" He grinned. His teeth were white and clear, just perfect enough to hide the rotting soul inside.

"We released your photos to the press already. Can you believe how many labs have offered hundreds of millions, one or two even billions, for you? We're still getting calls and emails as we speak."

Donatello was no idiot, he could have guessed that had happened already. But hearing it... He tensed, hoping the man couldn't see the fear he knew was already apparent on his face. He just had to ignore him. His threats wouldn't mean anything; his brothers would be there soon to save him, way before they could even consider doing that for real.

Besides, the EPF had spent months searching for and trying to capture him. Surely, they wouldn't just sell him off to the highest bidder that easily...

Right?

"Still not talking?" The man's expression darkened, "You don't understand just how much trouble you're in, do you? You're going to pay for what you and the rest of the mutants have done to humanity; I don't care whether you actually feel guilty for it or not. You will be sorry, Mutant."

"Donatello."

"What?"

"My name's Donatello," Donnie hissed out, too angry to even care that he broke his attempt at silence. "Stop calling me that when I have a name."

"I can call you whatever I damn well please, freak," The man replied, pointing a finger at him as though he were lecturing him, "You're lucky I'm even speaking to you right now. Everyone else I spoke to figured said it'd be pointless, and we should just ship you off right now. Mutant, I don't think you realize just how lucky you've been because of me. In fact, you oughta be thanking me."

Even the damn Foot Clan called them by their names, Donnie realized bitterly. Even the Foot treated them with more dignity than these people.

"The decision hasn't been made yet, but the Earth Protection Force is still deciding what to do with you. We've recently built a new high-security prison for mutants specifically in mind, and that had been the plan all along. However, we could always use the money we'd get from your bidders to upgrade it and arrest more-"

"We didn't do any of it!" Donnie couldn't take it anymore. He knew arguing was pointless and he knew it was probably what the man wanted, but he didn't care. "We saved the world, you- my brothers and I were the ones who stopped all that shit from happening! We saved Earth when you and the entire Earth Protection Force couldn't!"

"That's not how I remember it."

"Bullshit! You know you're all lying!"

"Memories are subjective," The man said, "However, the general consensus among the government, public, and us has been that the Kraang backed off due to our brief but effective alliance with the Utrom. The Triceratons-"

"You just want a damn scapegoat because you kept failing!" Donnie exclaimed, slamming his fist onto the glass walls in anger, teeth barred in rage and desperation. He knew his words were falling on deaf ears, but he couldn't take these lies. "We beat them! Not the EPF! We brought all the humans back from Dimension X and saved you all from the Kraang's mind control while you guys did nothing! We stopped the Triceratons! Me and my family nearly died—no, actually some of us did die—just trying to save the planet! The humans who did help us had nothing to do with you guys and it's because of us that you're even breathing right now! We-"

Donnie choked.

While he was shouted, the man had pressed some button, and it turned out the cursed dome he was in had more uses than just keeping him in one place after all. It started with a hissing noise from above and seconds later, a burning in his lungs. He gasped as the air turned frigid, the oxygen escaping from his grasp before he even realized what was happening. His hands flew to his throat. He couldn't breathe.

He fell to his knees harshly, ignoring the pain that came with it—all of his gear, including his knee pads, had been taken before he'd woken up—and clawed at his neck. Out of the corner of Donnie's eyes, he could see the satisfied gleam in the man’s eyes as struggled, gasping for air that just wasn't there. The edges of his vision flashed black.

But just before he passed out, the hissing changed and the air came back. Donnie gasped and inhaled with relief, savoring the feeling he hated that he still took for granted after how many times it had been taken away from him. He could breathe. He didn't bother rising from where he knelt.

"Tell me, Mutant," The man's voice was cold, and Donnie felt a shiver run down his spine. "Why would a monster sacrifice all that for the human race?"

Donnie didn't know.

"Well?" The man said, "That wasn't a rhetorical question. Answer me!"

"Earth's... it's ours too," Donnie hissed out, clenching his fists, "It's... it's just as much ours as... as yours."

"Is that so?" Donnie wanted to nod, to say yes, but he was frozen. Or at least, it felt like that. Humiliated and weak and terrified, Donnie wondered if they had paralyzed him when he wasn't paying attention... But he knew the only thing keeping him from moving was his own damn mind.

"I think you know as well as I do the Earth wasn't built for freaks like you," The man said, "And we sure as hell aren't going to let you just steal it from us. Not while I'm here, and not anytime soon after, you hear me? Earth's ours. It always has been."

Donnie felt a wave of relief wash over him when he turned, preparing to leave. He was still trapped in hell, but at let no one would talk down to him more if the man wasn't here... no privacy or not, it was better than nothing.

But then, the man stopped, tilting his head in thought. He turned back around and addressed another person on the other side of the room.

"Lower the oxygen percentage. Keep it just high enough so it doesn't pass out, but I want it as low as possible without that happening."

He walked away just as the hissing began, and Donnie couldn't help the tears from forming.

***

Two weeks.

Casey couldn't believe it had already been two full weeks since they'd last seen Donnie. How could they have let this have gone on for so long? They should have gotten him back days ago! But no, the calendar didn't lie; it had been fourteen days.

Fourteen days since they'd seen his gap-toothed smile. Fourteen days since the EPF had so cruelly snatched him from his patrol. Fourteen days since they kidnapped him and did who knows what with him. Fourteen days since they'd locked him away.

Thirteen days since they had first tried to get him back.

Casey grimaced at the memories. The first mission had been a failure, as had the second and third ones. Each building had been a fake one, framed as the place where they imprisoned mutants but really only a distraction. Donnie had never stepped foot in any of them... and with each trap they landed in, the team grew more and more desperate. Angrier and angrier. More and more heartbroken.

Casey hated it.

"What do we do, Red?" He asked April one night, sitting on the ledge of a roof and tossing a pebble off of it. It landed on a trashcan below with a satisfying clink, a sound that usually would've elicited a grin from Casey if it weren't for the circumstances. How could they have failed so much?

"I really don't know," April sighed, shaking her head, "We've searched everywhere in the city. I don't think they've sent him off somewhere, since I can still sense him in the city... but I have no idea where. I can't pinpoint him."

Casey looked out across the city, eyes sweeping over every building lining the distance. Though he knew it wasn't exactly true, it had felt like he'd searched every single one of them by now from top to bottom. Why couldn't they find Donnie? How many hideouts did the Earth Protection Force have anyways? So many in the city seemed excessive. Surely, they couldn't be hiding too many more.

Casey's gaze turned towards the water as the sun hovered over the horizon, casting beautiful crystals of light over everything it touched. It reflected off of the waves and met Casey's eyes, lighting them up gold.

And as they did, an idea lit up in his mind.

"April," He said, spinning around to face her, eyes wide and jaw slack, "What if we're looking in the wrong place?"

April frowned, folding her arms across her chest. "What do you mean?"

"They already know we know about all their buildings and hideouts in the city," Casey said, words tumbling from his mouth in a rush, "So why would they hide him somewhere we could find him? I'd guess they took him out of the city or even country, but you said you still sense him here. You know what that means?"

April shook her head. Casey rose to his feet, standing tall as he raised his arm and pointed towards the waters surrounding Manhattan.

"I bet they're hiding him out there, on a ship."

***

Donnie lost track of the days.

He'd tried to keep count, he really did. But there were no windows and no visible clocks, and each second spent in that damned dome felt like years. The circumstances inside didn't make it any easier to keep his mind clear.

Yes, the man had been true to his word and kept the air as unbreathable as was possible. His limbs were weighted and every movement took so much effort; speaking wasn't even an option. Even something as simple as thinking seemed nearly impossible when one was suffocating, and Donnie had no idea how to escape, not with how thick the walls were and how guarded he was. It wasn't normal glass, it was something special, something he couldn't break. All he could do was choke on nothing.

But he wasn't stupid. As impossible as the situation was, he tried to make do. He sat still and folded his legs, staying still and remembering the breathing techniques Splinter had taught him, just like they had when the Triceratons had tried to suffocate them.

At first, it had worked, but then the men caught on. They lowered the amount of oxygen he was getting even more and spoke loudly of their plans for him as a mutant, purposefully destroying his concentration with panic and anxiety. Meditation was impossible.

And even if it wasn't? Even breathing techniques couldn't save him from suffocation that lasted for hours on end.

So Donnie would gasp and claw at nothing, pleading internally for the air to return yet being met with no answer but amused chuckles. The sides of his vision would flash black and slowly grow until he was this close to passing out and ready to feel the sweet release of unconsciousness—Donnie started looking forward to that time when he could get a few short seconds of nothingness before he felt like he was dying again. Just take him away already!

But then, the second they noticed he was unconscious, the air would return all at once. Donnie would fling up from where he was laying and inhale the precious, beautifully crisp air with more appreciation than he'd known was possible. He knew it was just to keep him from dying on them and to keep him awake to suffer even longer, but he could never keep the relieved sigh from escaping his lips.

"So," The man would always approach him around this time, the same disgusting human every time. "Are you ready to tell me where the other mutants are?"

And every time, Donnie would only reply with an adamant shake of his head and narrowed eyes filled with false confidence. The man never stayed much longer after that. He would only shake his head in disapproval, mutter something along the lines of "those damn mutants..." or something about them being criminals, then he'd turn and walk away. The hissing would start not too long after that.

And the process would repeat.

On the fifth day, he really did pass out, and they were forced to give him a few hours to breathe properly, lest they gain a corpse replace their hostage. He didn't bother moving from the floor, feeling nothing yet too much all at once. He didn't think, only longed for his family's rescue.

On the tenth day, the man opened the cage long enough to walk inside and slap him once, twice, and scream in his face. 'Monster!' he screamed, 'Murderer!'

Donnie didn't react. The man was out of shape and old, someone Donnie knew he could normally take out without breaking a sweat. But after four days of struggling for a single breath, he didn't have the energy to do anything but stare.

At least he couldn't think enough to agree with his accusations.

On the thirteenth and fourteenth days, Donnie didn't bother moving once. Most of those 48 hours were spent zoned out and unaware of the passage of time. You could tell him it had only been an hour, or even that it had been three weeks; he'd have believed you either way.

On the eighteenth day, Donnie realized they weren't coming.

The men gagged him before he could bite his tongue hard enough.

***

It should have been obvious.

Staring at the ship now, April wondered how the hell no one on the team had thought of it before. Of course, the EPF would expect them to search their usual hideouts! Of course, they'd be ready for that! They wasted so much time searching the places they knew about that they had just... forgotten that this was more than just another gang or mafia or clan. This was a government agency with resources beyond imagination, they didn't have to reuse the same locations again and again and again.

April was just thankful they had stayed in New York.

"We go in, but we're focusing on stealth," Leo instructed his team—Mikey, Raph, Karai, Shini, April, and Casey—and pointed towards the ship, "We're not trying to take them out. Getting Donnie out is our first priority."

"No objections there," April replied, holding onto her tessen tightly. Casey scoffed from behind her.

"Yeah, definitely agree," He said, "But the second he's out, I'm burning the whole ship down."

"And everyone aboard responsible," Raph added on, eyes dark. Karai nodded in agreement while Shini grinned with delight.

Neither Leo nor Mikey had anything to say against that. Neither did April.

***

The air came back sooner than usual for Donnie this time.

He wasn't entirely sure why, usually it took a lot longer for them to give him a break. Or maybe it had been longer than he'd realized? Time was a strange thing, after all, and Donnie knew that he'd been out of it for a while.

He should probably stop questioning it and just be thankful for the brief break.

But now hands were on him, shaking him by the shoulders and screaming in his ears. What were they even saying? Donnie didn't know; tuning them out was easier. He was just tired of hearing the threats against his brothers and his family and friends and accusations. They could do what he wanted with him—he didn't care anymore.

But then they screamed again, and Donnie tried to focus, because the word they were saying over and over again was so foreign, yet so familiar. It was something he hadn't heard in a long time... wait, were they-

"Donnie!"

The man never said his name.

Donnie blinked several times, looking up and trying so desperately to see who it was. He distantly felt them remove the gag, though he knew he wasn't going to talk anyways, not with how dry his mouth was.

"He's alive," A voice cried out, shaking with relief. He wished he knew who it was, but try as he might, he couldn't make his vision come into focus. All there was was blurs of lights and colors, distant faces, and tears (though he wasn't sure if they were his or not). Green and black and red and orange and blue and more black and gray and yellow... He weakly reached out towards them.

Someone took his hand, squeezing it tightly. He wasn't sure who, but he was suddenly filled with an unbelievable wave of trust and peace.

For the first time in a long time, he felt okay.

Someone picked him up and suddenly, the lights and colors were changing, and he was moving. He blinked and he was outside and then he was sat down outside.

He blinked again, and finally, he could see the stars.

"Donnie?" A voice asked, and he finally recognized it. "Can you hear me?"

April.

He weakly nodded yes, and Casey was there too, grabbing his hand. Mikey sat right next to him.

He tried to sit up, still savoring the beautiful night air, never before appreciating the air of New York City as much as he did at that moment. But something else was on his mind; where were the others? Where were Leo and Raph? Where were the others he knew he saw with them?

"Hey, calm down Love, they're okay," Casey quickly calmed him down, tightening his hold on his hand. Donnie shook his head.

"W-where?"

"They're just finishing up something," Mikey promised, wrapping his arms around his brother in a tight hug. "They'll be out soon."

Donnie nodded, finally with someone he knew he could trust the words of. He breathed in deeply, and looked back forward, out to the ship he now realized he must have been on.

And just as he caught sight of it, a brilliant light erupted from the ship, a radiant explosion of reds and oranges and yellows, casting the same colors across the waves. Fire spread across the deck that was left. From the corner of his eye, he could see his brothers and Karai and Shini approaching, having finally finished their mission, but Donnie could only keep his eyes on the destruction behind them. Donnie imagined that he could hear the man's screams through the wreckage, though he knew individually, he couldn't; they must have been drowned out by the cries of everyone still aboard.

The fire raged on. It was a sight of pain and death and destruction, one that only a monster would take delight in to watch.

And Donnie smiled.

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tw torture #tw asphyxiation #tw suffocation #tw suicide mention #tw suicide attempt #tw self hatred #tw depression #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt capriltello #tmnt 2012 donatello

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hidden-otaku-stuff · 4 years

Text

On a Run

Word count: 1.1k Pairing: Ushijima x reader Genre: fluff Tw: One swear (I’m sorry, I swear like a sailor)

AN: Happy birthday to handsome soft boy Ushijima

“Hey, behave yourself,” you scolded, tugging on the leash that was tied to your waist. Your dog blinked up at you, tongue lolling in a cute way. “Don’t look at me like that!” You whined, looking back up as you continued down the road. The dark sky was turning purple as the sun rose. It was 6 AM, your Bluetooth earbuds were blasting your favorite workout playlist, a leash tied your dog to your waist as you embarked on your normal routine. “Oh shit!” You exclaimed as your dog suddenly left your side, darting in a random direction. Footsteps pounded against the concrete as you struggled to keep up. “Mana, stop!” You frantically tried to grab at the leash, only for her to tug you down towards a school track. Concrete turned into sand, causing you to slip slightly. Digging your feet into the ground, you skidded to a halt, forcing her to jerk back into you. What you couldn’t predict was the force of doing so would cause her to careen into your general direction. As the lumbering mass collided into you, you went flying to the ground.

Your hands flew out, trying to catch yourself. You fell onto your butt, hard. “This is why I hate taking you with me,” you swore, glaring down at the golden retriever that had rolled over to lay besides you. One of your earbuds had fallen out, causing your music to stop. Pain coursed up your body as you pushed yourself up. Angry red welts appeared, catching your attention as you tried to dust off the sand from your palms. “Oh great,” you grumble. You’d scraped both of your palms. Cursing, you sat there picking out the pebbles, shooting a glare at the dog. “This is all your fault.” Mana licked your arm, smiling at you.

“Are you alright?”

You flinched, jumping out of your skin. Looking up, you were greeted by a massive male looming over you. “Oh, uh, yeah, I’m fine.”

“That looks painful.” He stared down at your palms.

You shrugged while your gaze refocused on your hands. “I’ve been in worse scraps.”

“Come with me, we should get that washed and treated.” He extended a hand.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“My apologies. I’m Ushijima Wakatoshi.”

He stared at you for a moment, waiting. You cleared your throat, redness creeping up your cheeks. You were glad that it was still dark out. “Right, I’m (L.Name, Name).” Ushijima continued to look at you expectantly, hand still extended. Using your fingers to latch onto his, you pulled yourself up. “Thanks.” You looked down at Mana, tugging slightly on the leash. “C’mon girl.” Ushijima led the way, your fingers still hooked around his.

“I assume you do not go here.”

“Here?”

“Shiratorizawa.”

“Ah right, yeah, I don’t. How’d you know?”

“Dogs aren’t allowed in the dorms.”

You snorted. “Fair enough. I was just on my run, and Mana decided to drag me here for some reason.” He led you into a dorm building, pulling you towards the bathroom. “Hold on, I don’t wanna go to the restroom with you!”

“I’ll wait here with your dog then.”

“Hang on, I thought dogs aren’t allowed in the building?” Your brow furrowed.

“Just be quick.” He crossed his arm, taking the leash away from your waist. You flushed red and ducked into the bathroom, avoiding his gaze. The cool water did little to soothe your pain, and the soap definitely aggravated it more.

You swore as you dried your hands, at least it wasn’t completely cut up. Stepping out, you were greeted with a random red-haired guy bending over Mana who was being spoiled with belly-rubs. “Who’s a good girl? You are!” He cooed, aggressively scratching.

“Uh, who are you and why are you touching my dog?”

The male straightened up, grinning at you. “I’m Tendou! You must be the person who fell.” He brandished a first aid kit. “I’m Wakatoshi’s best friend, he texted me asking to bring you stuff.”

You pinched your nose, embarrassed. “Ah yes, please just tell the whole world what happened, why don’t you, Ushijima?”

The male shrugged. “I couldn’t leave you here alone or bring Mana to my room.” He handed the leash to Tendou, taking the supplies. “May I?”

“Let’s just get this over with then.”

He leaned against the couch, placing the box besides him as he opened it. Tendou became preoccupied with spoiling Mana with more belly rubs. “Why do you run with her if you can’t control her?”

Your jaw dropped. “It’s not that I can’t control her!” You spluttered. Ushijima’s olive eyes pierced yours, raising an eyebrow. “Okay fine,” you admitted. “I sometimes have issues with her. But I hate running by myself. So when my friends bail on me, then I’ll either skip my run too or I just suck it up and bring her along.” You winced as he applied the ointment.

“I’ll run with you then.”

“What?”

Ushijima placed a plaster onto your scrap, moving onto your other hand. “None of my team-mates run with me either, not in the morning anyways. I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“It’s ‘cause you run too fast and too early,” Tendou threw in, playing with Mana’s ears. He picked them up before letting them go, letting them flop onto her head. Her tongue lolled out at the attention.

You looked up at Ushijima. “Too early? What time do you even go?”

“5 AM.”

You blinked. “Make it 5:30 and I’ll join you.”

“I’ll run at 5 and meet you at 5:30 at your house since I’m assuming you live off-campus.”

You hummed, wincing again. The right hand had been even worse. “I guess that works for me.” Ushijima patted your palms, smoothing over the plasters.

“There, all finished.”

“Thanks, Ushijima!” You bent down, grabbing Mana’s leash. “Thank you for taking care of us.” You bowed to them. “Bye!” You made your way out, securing the leash back to your waist. “C’mon, troublemaker. We gotta finish my run still.”

You had barely stepped off campus when footsteps echoed behind you. “You forgot this.” Ushijima held his hand out, holding your earbud. You flushed scarlet.

“Thanks.” You grabbed it, fingertips brushing against his warm palm.

“Can I get your number?”

“Huh?”

“To plan our runs.”

“Oh right.” You pulled out your phone, handing it over as you avoided his gaze.

“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Ushijima bent down, patting Mana on the head three times before he stood back up.

“See you tomorrow, Ushijima.” He nodded once, turning and heading back to campus. You scowled down at Mana’s face. The retriever looked happy, her tail wagging furiously. “This is all your fault,” you scowled, before you turned back down the street and began jogging away, your thoughts filled with the male you’d see soon enough.

A/N: The Japanese translation for Mana is ‘love’!

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grace-sully · 4 years

Text

We're Never Playing This Game Again

* this is not my gif; all credit goes to the owner

Pairing: John B x Reader

Warnings: drunken pogues? But not that drunk, mentions of sex

Word count: 1,669

Summary: It's a summer night, and the Pogues plays a little game of never have i ever with a side of a few beverages

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

John B was expecting a messy night. It was the first day of summer, and the atmosphere around the campfire at the back of the chateau was as peaceful as can be.

However, as soon as he saw Pope and Kie step into the threshold of the chateau, armed with crates of beer and pizza boxes, he was expecting the crazy kind of trouble that came from drinking too much alcohol like all of the other times the lively group got together and drank and smoked the night away.

Like the one time, JJ challenged everyone to fight him as he had recently been watching Kung Fu videos on youtube and believed he could take on all of you Pogues, all for JJ to dislocate his shoulder when he tried to throw Kie to the ground.

Or the time when Kie had a breakdown and was hysterically crying because she realised fish and most ocean life had to live their lives without arms.

Or when Pope spilled his bottle of beer over himself and it went on his socks, and him being the genius he is, decided that the quickest way to dry them off was to put them in the microwave only for everyone to find out by Kie yelling “who the fuck is cooking a sock?”.

He was expecting all of that craziness and even more.

Instead, mellowed-out Pogues, all too tired from a day of surfing lounged out by the fire pit outside of the chateau, stuffing their faces with pizza and washing it all down afterwards with beer.

And these nights with you, were what he looks forward to most when thinking about summer. Where you both can’t get enough of each other. Spending the long days surfing, on the H.M.S Pogue, wandering aimlessly around The Cut, hanging out with the other Pogues were all that John B loved about summer.

But if he was being honest with himself, he looks forward to falling asleep with you most and waking up entangled in each other's arms and getting touchy with each other. He loved having your arms wrapped tightly around him. never wanting to let go of you, to never stop loving you. Wanting to defend you, keep you safe forever.

You were tucked into your boyfriends side, his arm draped over your shoulders, talking to Kie, recounting the story of the time she got a ‘Karen’ come into The Wreck while she was working one day and how JJ had to step in and try to resolve the problem. However, resolving in JJ’s instance, was to annoy the ‘Karen’ even more to where she walked out screaming that she would ‘never return to the establishment again’. The whole of your body relaxed as you retold the story giggling between sentences.

It only takes twenty minutes after the last piece of pizza is eaten for JJ to make his way into the chateau, only to return with an expensive bottle of whiskey in hand, which you presumed he brought with him that was properly stolen from his dad’s stash, and enough shot glasses for all of you to have one each, for the night to go downhill.

“Alright,” he says as he returns, pausing as he makes his way to the centre of the group, “who wants to play never have I ever?”

Whenever the Pogues were together, secluded from the world, with a crate of any type of alcohol, the urge to play drinking games was always strong.

You, Kie and Pope instantly agreed to JJ’s suggestion. Hearing everyone's embarrassing tales always made you laugh to the point of tears.

John B however, exhales, scrunching up his nose. Not in the mood to play and drinking games. And just wanting to savour the cool, starlight sky with the light music playing over the crackling sounds of the campfire and the playful laughs coming from his best friends around him.

Still, he entertains JJ’s idea, readying himself for a few rounds of burning liquid down his throat and ridiculous questions that he has to admit to.

JJ starts, since he suggested the game, looking around at the Pogues before his eyes zero in on you and Kie. “Never have I ever worn a bra.”

“Really?” You narrow your eyes at JJ, refilling your glass, while Kie mutters words of protest at the blonde boy, who can’t contain his smug smile and giggles. You roll your eyes, both of you taking your first drink alongside each other.

You think of the next question almost instantly, looking at the two who you were directing the question to “Never have I ever gone surfing in the middle of a storm.”

John B thinks you were holding onto that one for a while.

Pope catches your eye from across the campfire, waving a hand dismissively at your obvious jab towards him and your boyfriend.

“No way, you surfed the surge?” JJ asked, impressed, but a little hurt that he wasn’t there to join them.

“Yeah,”

“That's my boy. Pogue style,” JJ leaned over and patted Pope on the back of the shoulder. He obviously hit it too hard, however, because as soon as JJ removed his hand, Pope whipped around and rubbed where JJ had made contact.

John B eyed the shot glasses lined up in front of him warily. Picking it up, he drinks it at once alongside Pope, rolling his eyes at the mocking cheer that erupts around his friends, as they both successfully swallowed the amber liquid.

You pinch at the skin that is revealed when he leans forward, to put the glass down. To which he does the same back to you, smirking in retaliation.

The game continues on with more questions. Each round getting less and less serious and leading into everyone’s personal secrets. Everyone trying to one-up the last, in more efforts to embarrass each other.

More than once have you had to hide your blushing cheeks, and knowing smile behind the rim of the shot glass you drank from because of the invasive question asked by the overly curious Pogues.

John B lets himself get lost in his friend’s exchanges and participation in the game. Basking in the conversations and laughter that is happening around him. His warm hand slips beneath your shirt and presses you closer into him, rubbing soothing circles on the skin of your hip.

You return the gesture by leaning back into him, moulding yourself into his side, and turning in his grasp to give him a quick peck on the lips. Noticing that he has been relatively quiet throughout the game, only speaking to ask a question for the group.

“You okay?” you ask so only he can hear you. He lightly smiles at you and nods. Squeezing you tighter to him. You take this as his ‘okay’, rolling your head back onto his shoulder, listening back into the group, just as JJ asked another question.

“Alright, alright. I’ve got one,” he spoke up, causing the rest of the group to give all of their attention to him, “Never have I ever, had sex in public.”

You down your drink without really thinking, suddenly feel your boyfriend's entire body still as you settle back into him. He halted the movements his hand made along the skin of your hip. Looking up at his face, you see red creeping itself upon his neck, across his face and up to his ears, whether from remembering the intimate memory of you two, or being embarrassed by it being brought up in his group of friends.

One hot day on The Cut lead you and John B taking a ride out on the H.M.S. Pogue together, spending the day listening to music, drinking beer and enjoying each other's company. Kie and Pope had to spend the day working, and JJ was busy doing JJ things leaving the two of you to do whatever you pleased without interruptions from anyone else.

This led to many, many make out sessions and more. On the boat, on the beach and in the water.

All he could imagine was flashes of sweat-slick skin and hurried kisses. How you fit into his body, your chest flush against his chest. the way you pressed up against him in the water. Shaking, trembling, panting into the skin of his shoulder.

“Oh, what have you two been up to then?,” JJ playfully jabs, bringing John B out of his own head, with a bright smirk plastered across his face. Proud of himself that he's caught his friends out.

Kie takes the lead in the friendly interrogation, giggling as she gestures towards the both of you with an open hand. “You guys wanna share?”

You just shrug, “Not particularly, no,” you declare, leaning over to grab the bottle from Pope to fill another shot and down it in less than no time, “I’m not drunk enough for this anyway.”

“You’ve gotta tell us now!” Pope wails, trying to keep in his laughter for long enough to stutter the sentence. Extending his hand out towards the red faced couple to exaggerate his point.

John B could die from the overwhelming weight of his embarrassment on his shoulders. And he can tell you’re also regretting taking the shot after JJ asked the question in the way you fall further into him, hands coming up to cover your face in humiliation.

“We’re not part of this conversation,” John B sighs, trying to change the conversation topic. Too embarrassed that his friends know a secret that was just meant for you and him to know. And too turned on thinking about the memory about you and him, now just wanting the night to be over so he can be alone with you.

You shake your head, speaking into your hands, letting out a long groan.

Kie and Pope stop cackling for long enough to splutter at the same time, “you took the shot!”

“We are never playing this game again”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, please give it a reblog and leave some love <3

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harrysgoldenline · 4 years

Text

Gone Too Long

Hi! This was a request from @chergguk ! I hope you like it!!! :) also I THINK my ask box is open now? Idk how to do this at all but please send in requests! :)

—————————————————————————

Harry has been gone the past few days, even busier with press now that the album was out and he as rehearsing for the mini Fine Line pop up shows he was now doing, he was a very busy boy, so by the end of the day he was a very tired boy and when Harry is tired he is clingy and can get quite whiny. When Harry comes home after a long day of work, all he wants his to curl up with her, watch a movie and go to bed. So, she decided to surprise him.

When Y/N woke up that morning, she went straight to work, cleaning every inch of their apartment. Throwing their sheets in the wash along with some other clothes, deciding to just throw on her favorite shirt of Harry’s he left behind for her, the baggy material reaching her mid thighs as she wandered around the apartment in it.

Putting on his album, she started working on the dishes and dancing around as ‘Sunflower, Vol. 6’ blasted through her speakers, dancing around as she put them in their respective cabinets, singing obnoxiously, giggling as the speakers blast his little ‘Sunflower Sounds’ at the end.

After that, she re made the bed, forcing her self to not curl up into the warm sheets and go back to the kitchen making some of her and Harry’s favorite snacks.

“Gotta see it to believe it” she hears her boyfriends voice loudly playing through the speaker and a large smile covers her face as she joins in singing, “sky never looked so blue!”

She began singing and jumping around to Canyon Moon, checking her phone and seeing Harry wouldn’t be home for another 30 minutes, so she shrugs to herself, cleaning and snacks ready, so she just turns up the music and dances around.

A wide grin covers her face as she hears his voice resonating from the speaker, her hair falling in and out of her face as she quite literally jumps around the kitchen.

“I’ve been gone too long from you!” She hears loudly, screaming as hands go around her waist.

“Harry!” She squeals, turning and jumping up onto him, legs going around his waist as she hugs him tightly, “I missed you so much!”

“I can see that.” He teases, tugging at his own shirt that was covering her body, “you’re quite the dancer, lovie.”

“Shut up and kiss me.” She giggles, leaning in and smashing her lips onto his for the first time in days.

They both soon pull away from each other’s lips and just hold each other, burying their faces in each other’s necks.

“I’m going, oh, I’m going.” He softly sings in her ear, repeating the phrase as he sings along with himself, “I’m going home...”

She giggles into his neck, holding him tighter as his breath tickles her neck, his hands rubbing her back as they stand in the middle of their kitchen, holding each other without a care in the world.

They stand their, just holding each other, as they sing finishes, listening to the entrance of ‘She’ as it fills the room.

“Love this shirt on you.” He mumble into her neck, kissing her shoulder before pulling back to look at her, “missed you so much these past few day- oh my god lovie you made snacks?”

He rushes to the counter, still holding her up and she grips him tightly, “Harry!” She gasped, holding onto his shirt for dear life, “just put me down!” She laughed loudly, trying to unhook her legs from his waist.

“No way!” He replies, voice muffled as he shoves a handful of popcorn in his mouth, “haven’t seen you in days! Think I’m really gonna let you go?”

“Well, I’ve got the room ready for a movie night.” She smirked, hands playing with the ends of his hair, “got snacks and washed the sheets so they’re nice and warm!”

“Oh, you’re tryna get me to Netflix and Chill? Is that all you want me for babe?”

“Oh shut up!” She laughed, slapping his chest before laying up against it, pressing kisses onto his jaw, “just wanna cuddle... but I guess i wouldn’t be that opposed”

Harry chuckles, setting her down on her feet and grabbing her face, giving her a real proper kiss, “really did miss you, sweetheart.” He smiles softly, “and you didn’t have to clean the whole place, coulda waited for me and I woulda helped.”

“Wanted to do something special for you.” She shyly replied, hands going up to his shoulders, “just want you to be able to relax after all the craziness. I know how stressful it can all be and I don’t want you to come home and feel that way too.”

Harry shakes his head, a smile plastering his face, “you’re an angel, honestly don’t know what I’d do without ya. Nearly went crazy without you. Need you with me to keep me sane, darling.”

“You were gone for three days.” She giggles, leaning into him. Whenever Y/N and H are reunited, they really struggle keeping their hands to themselves, even if it was just a few days.

“So?” He laughs, “need the love of my life with me all the time.”

“Love of your life?” She whispers, eyes widening, “r-really?”

“Course” he smirks, a deep dimple emerging and she can’t help but reach up and rub her finger over it, “wouldn’t wanna spend my days with anybody else.

“I love you so much” she sniffles, “don’t leave anymore”

“I was only gone for three days!” He laughs, repeating her own words back to her and pulling her back, chucking at her teary eyes, “what you crying for lovie?”

“The love of my life is home.”

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles request #harry styles theme nights #fine line #canyon moon

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oh-i-swear-writes · 3 years

Note

I’m having a rough day back at school for the first time since March really. Maybe can you write some soft boys loving each other? Or Steve stressed about going to college while Bucky is working the docks and they just be soft? Thank.

Hi Nonnie!

Sorry to hear you’ve had a rough day <3 On the plus side, it’s Friday - hopefully that helps… and hopefully some soft pre-war boys will help - it’s not quite Bucky on the Docks, but hopefully it tickles the right spot <3

Bucky knows it’s selfish, but he does it anyway. He’s always done it anyway, can’t seem to help himself. He knows what people would say if anybody was to find out, knows what they’d say about him, but knows that what they’d say about Steve would be worse.

The idea of it burns deep in his throat, in his stomach - and he hates it. He hates the way that people look at Steve or talk about Steve and he hates the way they see his too weak, skinny body but can’t see that larger than life spirit, the fight he’s got (how could he fight off so many illnesses if he didn’t have that?) and the deep seated kindness and warmth and want to make things fundamentally better for himself and everyone else around him.

Bucky wouldn’t be able to stand it if they added more to that.

If they added more because of him.

And yet, he can’t stop himself - he hasn’t ever been able to really - because it’s him and it’s Steve and it’s them and that’s always mattered more than anything.

And tonight… tonight he’s had news that will change everything.

When he told Steve, he looked up through those long lashed, sky blue eyes filled with sadness meeting Bucky’s own.

“You… came up in the draft, Buck?” he asked softly, and Bucky had nodded, looking away.

“Well… I want to make things right. Do my bit. Perhaps they’ll take me too?” he’d asked, and Bucky had shaken his head. They both knew Steve was too sickly. He’d be discounted on his asthma or his hearing or something alone, and nobody would blame them except perhaps Steve himself.

“They won’t, Stevie,” he said softly and Steve had sighed out, that familiar slightly asthmatic wheeze coming from his chest as he did.

“I’m gonna try, Buck,” he had said quietly, resolutely. That challenging glint in his eye was there and Bucky knew he would try, for all he wished he wouldn’t.

“And what if they take you, Stevie? What if they do? How are you gonna keep up, huh? You’ll be canon fodder - and Steve, I can’t have you out there dying just because…” he had paused. Just because what?

Steve looked at him again, pursing those too-pink too-plump lips. “If you think I’m gonna sit here staying safe and not thinking about whatever the hell is happening to you, Buck, you gotta ‘nother think coming…”

“Steve,” he’d breathed out, exasperated. “I… I’ll make it back. But in the meantime… maybe this is your chance. You can do the things a man’s supposed to do - you know, find a nice girl, take a wife…”

“Where does that leave all this? Us?” Steve had asked, the question quiet enough that there was no chance that their neighbours would hear even with the shitty thin walls of their tenement apartment.

“Steve I… can’t fight about this with you tonight,” Bucky had sighed, moving to the rickety cabinet and pulling two whiskey glasses from the shelf and the bottle of cheap amber liquid he’d splurged a good chunk of his last pay packet on. Now he was glad that he had.

He poured a good two fingers in each, handing one to Steve before knocking his own back, feeling the burn of the alcohol as it washed down.

“So what do you wanna do instead?” Steve had asked, almost challenging.

That was right before Bucky’s mouth had crashed into Steve’s.

And now, here they are, laid in the twin bed that they shared for lack of space, for extra warmth and because though Bucky would never, ever say it out loud for fear of what would happen - because they are in love.

No, it was more than that.

Steve is the love of Bucky’s life.

“I can practically hear you thinking from here, Buck,” Steve murmurs sleepily, wriggling up in Bucky’s arms which were looped loosely around him.

“Just thinkin’ about you, Stevie,” he whispers back as he presses an affectionate kiss to Steve’s forehead.

He half expects for Steve to swat at him like he might when Bucky jokingly kisses his cheek in their living room, telling him off for ‘treatin’ him like a dame’. But Steve doesn’t do that.

Instead, Steve blushes and looked up at Bucky again from below those beautiful long eyelashes that kiss his cheekbones in the way that Bucky wants to himself - and so he does.

“M’always thinkin’ about you, Buck,” He says quietly, catching Bucky’s lips with his own, a sweet kiss; chaste. “And I need you to know, I’m gonna always… I’ll feel…” he trailed off before looking at Bucky with that determination once again. “I love you Buck. In the romantic way, I mean.”

“I love you too,” Bucky replies easily, because he does - always has.

“Always gonna, til the end of the line, you know?” Steve carries on, plastering himself more firmly into Bucky’s chest, like he will do anything rather than let go of him, let go of this moment.

“Til the end of the line, pal,” Bucky agrees, rubbing gentle circles into the skin of Steve’s back, feeling the bumps of his spine beneath the pale skin, feeling the curve of his scoliosis. “Steve I… until I have to go, can we just have this?”

“Like you even have to ask,” came the answer.

Unable to help himself, Bucky wraps himself around Steve even more, presses his nose into silky golden hair and breathes in cheap soap and that slight cigarette smell Steve has from his asthma cigarettes. Perhaps, he thinks, he’ll take a few packs with him, remind him of home, golden hair and soft nights in a shitty bed in a shitty tenement with a man who makes everything in his world just a little less shitty.

Yeah, he thinks as he starts to drift, Steve Rogers is everything.

What he doesn’t know is that Steve feels the same.

#my writing #soft boys #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #pre war #skinny steve #oh i swear writes #oh i swear writes answers #anon asks #fic rec #drabble #ficlet

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nev3rfound · 4 years

Text

in plain sight : p.p

brief summary: in a world where your soulmates first words are written on your wrist you’re left waiting to find them, only for him to be someone you already know

word count: 3.1k requested: not by anyone. just something I wrote and wanted to share :) warnings: none that i’m aware of

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it isn’t me. all rights reserved. - thank you to everyone who helped regarding the wattpad situation, you’re all amazing)

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Everyone knew it and everyone experienced it.

At the age of sixteen, everyone receives the mark on their wrist whether they wished to know it or not; this wasn’t optional.

The mark in question would reveal the first words of your soulmate. Whatever was engraved on your wrist would be theirs only and no one else's. Likewise with your response. You had no idea what you would say that’ll be known to them and vice versa. It took some people minutes to find theirs, and others a lifetime of waiting and wondering where their destined other half was.

“Okay.” You let out a shaky breath as MJ sits across from you in your room. “I mean, it’s just a mark. They’re out there somewhere, right?” You question, looking to your best friend who half-heartedly shrugs her shoulders.

“I mean, mine says ‘hey, you’ve got a french fry in your hair’ so there’s that.” She nonchalantly states, trying to ignore the small smile crossing your lips.

MJ glances across to see your clock, minutes away from midnight. “What does it feel like? Knowing someone is actually there for you?” Hundreds of questions are circling your mind and MJ leans back against the bedframe.

“It’s weird.” She lets out a small sigh. “Like, I know they’re out there somewhere, but my Mom stumbled into hers. I think a lot of it is pure chance.” She explains, seeing you nod to yourself as your alarm goes off.

Your eyes widen and MJ moves closer toward you.

“Go on then.” She encourages you as you keep your wrist face down.

“Okay,” You let out a short breath before turning your wrist over and scan over the words with furrowed brows.

“What does it say?” MJ questions, seeing your eyebrows knitted together and lips turned down.

“Pick on someone your own size.” You read each word before pulling your sleeve up further. “Actually, just pick on me.” You look up at MJ with disappointment evident in your expression.

She wraps her arms around you, hugging you tightly. “Looks like we both have shit luck, Y/n.” She mutters to you as you lean against her, nodding in response. “Happy 16th.” She adds, making you chuckle as you pull your sleeve down, hiding the stupid sentence from your view.

In school, you tried to avoid staring at every person who passes you. But you knew it happened in your year, everyone started to pay more attention to their conversations and wondering if it was someone they knew.

“Hey, I was wondering where you were.” You turn around, seeing Ned with a bright smile walking up toward you.

Tucking your hair behind your ear you force a smile, hoping he couldn’t see the dryness in your face and cracked lips from crying yourself to sleep. “Sorry, I was studying in the library most of the day.” You explain as he walks alongside you until you reach your locker.

As you open it, you see a small lilac gift bag in front of you. You glance over to Ned who wears a bright smile, motioning for you to take the bag. “Happy birthday, Y/n.” He leans closer, whispering the sentence to you as you open the bag inside of your locker.

Pulling out a small velvet box, inside contains a golden piece of lego. “You got me lego?” You chuckle through your question, raising an eyebrow to Ned who nods eagerly. “Any reason why?”

“Well, I couldn’t bring the entire thing to school as it wouldn’t fit in your locker.” He shrugs a shoulder. “But I’ve got it at my house for you when you next wanna hang out.”

You wrap your arms around him and hug him tightly. “Thank you Ned, I love it.” You pull away from his embrace, immediately tugging your sleeve as his eyes wander down to the small words poking through.

“There’s something else in there too.” He adds as you reach further into the bag, taking out another velvet box.

Opening it up, your eyes are greeted with a small topaz embedded inside of a crescent and star necklace. “Ned,” You trail off, partially speechless as the topaz catches the light in the hallway. “this is beautiful.”

“I had some help picking it.” He looks past you toward MJ who gives him a thumbs up. “What’re best friends for?”

“You’re too much, Ned.” You say with a chuckle before unfastening the necklace just as the bell goes.

“I gotta run, but I’ll see you later, yeah?” He quickly walks off, leaving you struggling to fasten your necklace alone.

After a few moments of struggling with the clasp, you hear someone approaching. You lean your head out to see Peter Parker, Ned's other friend who you’ve never fully engaged with.

He continues to walk in a straight line, catching your eye and smiles softly. “Hey, Penis Parker!” You whip your head around to see Flash and a few other students marching toward Peter.

You sigh as Peter tries to stand up to them, but before you can step in Mr Lerlark emerges from his office. “Mr Thompson, leave Mr Parker alone.” He calls out tiredly and Flash turns on his heels, smirking your way before walking further down the hallway.

Closing your locker, you place your necklace in your pocket before turning around to see Peter had vanished. You look both ways down the corridor, seeing no sign of him having ever been in front of you.

A few months down the line from turning sixteen you still haven’t had any luck finding your soulmate.

Your ears perked up occasionally when you heard Flash picking on someone in the corridors and someone else commenting ‘pick on someone else, Flash.’ But that wasn’t the sentence, it was close, but not close enough.

Walking home with MJ you still wore the necklace she helped Ned pick. “You getting any closer?” You question as you keep a tight hold of your folders whilst MJ shakes her head.

“I thought I found them the other day, but I had a pencil in my hair, not a french fry.” She comments, sounding unphased by the entire thing.

“I keep hearing things along the right lines, but it’s not close enough.” You admit with a heavy sigh as you reach MJ’s house. “But I’m not giving up, not yet.” You try to keep positive, and MJ flashes a lopsided smile before walking into her house.

“See you tomorrow, Y/n.” She waves before closing her front door, leaving you to finish your walk home alone.

As you reach your house you unlock the front door to the sound of your parents arguing.

“She’s not broken, dear. She’s not found them yet that’s all.” Your Mom states in a hushed voice as you listen to your Dad groan loudly.

“It’s not normal to wait this long! I found you in a matter of days goddamnit!” You hear your Dad yell and you remain still by the front door with a heavy heart. “She’s nearly seventeen, they must be out there, honey.” Your Dad explains and you take a step forward, hearing the floorboards creak and their conversation abruptly stop.

Your Mom is the first to emerge, plastering a smile across her face. “Hey, sweetie. How was school?” She questions, watching as you place your folders down and immediately tug on your sleeve to keep your wrist covered.

“It was fine.” You mutter in response. “I’m going to go study at Ned’s.” You pick up your things before taking them upstairs, not wanting to get into another soulmate conversation with them.

“Okay, Y/n. If you want a lift let us know.” Your Dad speaks up, but you keep your eyes trained to the carpet that lines the stairs. “We love you.” He quickly adds, hoping you’d turn around, but you don’t.

You reach your bedroom in silence before closing the door, letting a few tears fall as you gather your study supplies and lie on your bed for a moment.

“I am normal.” You mumble to yourself as you wipe your eyes and move to sit at your desk.

Focusing on your face, you look down to see the sentence peeping out once more from your sleeve. The number of times you’ve tried to remove it, scrub it off or scratch it away are useless. The sentence is permanent like a tattoo until you hear the words. Then, and only then will they disappear from your skin.

Walking down the stairs your parents remain silent as the radio faintly plays in the background. You glance into the kitchen to see them dancing with each other as your Mom rests her head against your Dad’s chests. Their fingers remain intertwined and eyes closed.

You scribble down a note before slipping out of the door, looking out to see the streetlamps already burning a warm orange as the sky above darkens to a velvet navy.

Taking out your phone, you send Ned a text to let him know you’re on your way.

Keeping your eyes fixated on your phone, you turn the corner from your street and cross the road toward Ned’s.

Your phone starts to glow and a stupid selfie of you and Ned illuminates your phone. “Hey, Ned.” You answer and hear the sound of footsteps behind you, but you ignore it as Ned starts talking.

“How come you’re so eager to study tonight?” He questions, listening to you sigh as you tug your bag on your back higher, feeling it slipping down your shoulder.

“Just this soulmate shit is getting to me, and my parents too.” You close your eyes momentarily, fighting back tears. “I just need a distraction, and maybe take you up on that lego building offer?” You chuckle.

“Sounds good to me, Peter was going to come over but he bailed last minute.” He tells you, secretly wondering where in the city his friend is scoping out.

“Okay, I’ll be there in like ten minutes?” You tell him and as you go to hang up, a forceful tug pulls you back and off your feet. “Get off me!” You yell, dropping your phone to the ground as Ned calls your name through the speaker, hearing nothing beside you screaming.

Trying to keep yourself upright, you fight back as you slip your arm through your bag strap. Releasing yourself you start running down the street, refusing to look back. Sadly, before you’re able to get very far a tall man stands in front of you with a sinister smirk.

“Leaving so soon, Princess?” He pouts, seeing the fear in your eyes.

“What do you want?” You question boldly, trying to hide the quiver of your lips.

The man walks closer toward you, forcing you to step backwards. “You’ll see.” He chuckles, reaching up to brush your hair out of your face, only to have you smack his hand away. “Oh, you’ll regret that.” He states coldly, nodding to someone else and you’re lifted from the ground.

“Let me go!” You cry out, fighting against the strong grip of two people as you’re dragged into an alleyway.

With a thud, you’re dropped to the ground as three men stand over you. “I want that.” One man speaks up, motioning to the necklace around your neck and reaches down, snapping the chain.

You grasp your neck, feeling the burn rising across your skin as tears fill your eyes. “Please, let me go.” You cry out. “I’m just a kid.” You plead, but the malicious looks on their faces say enough for you to know you’re not making it out easily.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” One of the men steps forward, kneeling down in front of you. “It’ll all be over soon.” He whispers, revealing a small knife in his grasp.

“Hey, why don’t you pick on someone your own size? Actually, just pick on me.” The voice calls out and you freeze.

It’s them, that’s the sentence you’ve memorised and burnt into your brain. They’re here.

The man before you rises to his feet, clearing the view to reveal a blur of blue and red running in your direction.

Cowering away, you hide in the corner of the alleyway against the bins with your eyes closed, waiting for it all to be over. You listen to the commotion rising and the sound of punches being thrown until silence falls in the alleyway.

“Erm, miss?” A gentle voice speaks up and slowly you open your eyes, still shaking uncontrollably as Spiderman walks toward you holding his hand out, but you merely stare in disbelief. “Are you alright?”

You look down at yourself, brushing off the gravel and dirt. “I think so. I mean, I didn’t get stabbed so there’s that.” You laugh lightly, trying to ease the tension as you look past him to the three men unconscious on the floor covered in webbing.

Beneath the mask, Peter’s eyes widen as he realises it’s you.

“You alright, Spiderman?” You speak up as he remains silent, oblivious to his eyes widening and mouth agape that is concealed from your view.

Stuttering, Peter walks closer toward you, stepping over the unconscious men. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just glad you’re not hurt.” He fumbles over his words, still in a state of shock that he’s found you.

“Well, thank you for saving me.” You say shyly, feeling the shock in your system fading away and revealing the reality that is your soulmate in front of you. “I know this might sound odd, but do you believe in soulmates, Spiderman?”

“Yeah,” He quickly answers. “I, I’ve been waiting to find them for a while now.” He adds as he holds out his hand once more, helping you out from the alleyway.

Looking down at your wrist you can see the mark has vanished. After all this time you’ve finally found him, or moreso, he’s found you.

“I always wondered who’d say those words.” You try to find the confidence to look at him, at the man who has faced aliens and is a part of the Avengers, that this man is your destined other half.

A small laugh escapes Peter’s lips as he nods. “Me too,” He comments. “not every day someone jokes about not being stabbed.”

Peter watches as a smile ghosts your lips. “Will I ever see you, the actual you, Spiderman?” You quietly question as he looks around the street, seeing a series of lights being switched on and curtains being drawn back.

“Real soon, I promise.” He tells you, smiling brightly beneath the mask. “I, I didn’t get your name.” He states, watching as you chuckle under your breath.

“It’s Y/n.” You tell him, and Peter nods to himself, trying to hide the fact he’s always wanted to talk to you, make you laugh with Ned or build the Millenium Falcon with you.

“It’s a beautiful name.” The words escape his lips before his brain can fully process it, and he can hear the intensity of your heart beating. “You’ll see me soon, Y/n. That I promise.” He tells you before moving closer and wraps his arms around you. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

You shake your head. “You don’t have to I, oh Ned!” You exclaim, looking around for your phone. “I was going to see my friend, he was on the phone.” You quickly explain as your eyes dart around.

Peter looks behind him, seeing your phone still illuminated with Ned on the other end of the line. “Erm, Y/n. Is this it?” Peter holds up your phone and watches as a wave of relief washes over you.

“Thank god.” You tell him. “Hi Ned, I’m sorry I won’t make it. I’m okay, I promise.” You explain to him, and Peter smiles to himself listening to Ned’s frantic questions. “I’ll explain tomorrow morning, okay?”

With that, you hang up your phone and grab your bags. “So, shall we?” He moves closer and your eyes widen.

“We aren’t walking, are we?” You question and Peter shakes his head in response.

“Hold on tight, Y/n.” He tells you, feeling you holding on for dear life as he swings into the air, hearing you laugh in delight as you watch the city below you.

Waking up you remain still for a moment, wondering if last night was simply a dream. But as you look down to your wrist, the words are gone. “It was real.” You mutter to yourself, unable to wipe your smile from your face as you get ready for school.

“Bye Mom, Bye Dad!” You cheerfully yell through the house as you go to leave.

Your parents share a confused look, but don’t question it as you open the front door and pause at the sight of a small envelope addressed to you.

Kneeling down you pick it up, tearing it open as you walk down the street. Looking inside, you see a small note concealing something.

‘I tried my best to fix it. But I’m sure it’ll look beautiful on you. - Spidey x’

Chuckling to yourself you tuck the note into your pocket and reveal your necklace fixed back together. You can see the lump of solder where the break was, but he saved it for you.

As you arrive at school, you find Ned waiting impatiently by your locker. “Hey Ned,” You call out and he turns around, pale as anything before bringing you into a bear hug.

“Don’t scare me like that again, oh my god.” He rambles, still keeping a tight hold of you.

“Ned, I can’t breathe.” You tell him as your arms remain by your sides until he lets go of you. “Okay,” You take a deep breath as you look around, making sure no one was listening in. “what I’m about to tell you is huge.”

“Right,” Ned trails off, raising an eyebrow. “so you getting attacked isn’t huge enough?”

You shake your head. “Spiderman saved me.” You tell him and his eyes widen. “And not only that, but he’s my soulmate.” You lift your sleeve up, revealing your mark now vacant from your wrist.

“Holy shit.” He states, looking past you and directly to Peter who can’t stop staring at the back of your head, hearing the entire conversation you and Ned are having. “That’s insane. Did, did he reveal himself?”

“No,” You say, slightly disheartened. “but he said I’ll see him again soon.”

The bell rings for the first period and Ned chuckles. “I’m sure you’ll see him sooner than you think, Y/n.” He tells you, glancing back to see Peter trailing behind you as you walk into Chemistry.

t a g l i s t (thank you for the support!) link in my bio to add yourself☺️

@biss-stuff @psychicforest @lourightm @mywinterwolf @justsomedreaming @stanlux17 @supermoonchildbroski @xrosegoldwolfx @courtneychicken @marvelsangels @supraveng @tommy-lee-81 @fandom-princess-forevermore

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

Text

chapter twelve: finger lakes

a/n: had to split this chapter into two because so much happens. i'm not gonna dick around after posting this and just get to it on the next one - so make this second installment 47 chapters instead, oh my!

The guys were not exaggerating when they told Sam that the audiences were mostly men. For the next few dates, Sam and Zelda both stood off to the side to watch Stormtroopers of Death. Every night was an earful of orange styrofoam and a view to the sea of testosterone and moshing off to their right. Even after a few dates, Sam could feel a rigid schedule of sorts coming into fruition. Scott had barely written anything down but she knew what was to happen for the dates that made up the tour.

Every day it was wake up early and have breakfast, then walk around the town a bit, followed by a drive over to the next stop and a walk around there to check it out for themselves; some time in the middle of the afternoon, they made their way over to the venue, which was often within a few blocks away. Poughkeepsie was the only stop with a hotel: their next handful of stops as well as the one up in Albany, right up the road from there, had no hotel that was within their range.

“Which means we're gonna have to sleep in the car here,” Sam concluded when Charlie and Marla posted up in the alleyway behind the brick building.

“We can lay there in the back seat,” Marla suggested with her head turned towards him.

“Yeah, and I can lean back in the passenger seat there,” Sam chimed in.

“As long as we don't put our tootsies on those glass doves back there,” Charlie told them.

“They're hidden under the seat here, though,” Sam replied as she reached down between her legs and she touched those doves; the tips of her fingers brushed against the edges of their white wings. She kept the glass doves she had bought for her parents wrapped up in a knit sweater and she kept it tucked under the car seat. Charlie vowed to keep it safe from the bumps and potholes that came along with touring, even if it was over the course of two states. It was a tight fit given the sweater as it protected them from the outside world and the rough rhythm of the upstate New York roads. She had faith that they were in a good spot there underneath her seat.

“I'm not gonna drink tonight,” Charlie announced as he unbuckled his seat belt. “As much as I wanna to do that.”

“Did you remember to bring the cup holders, though?” Marla asked him.

“What, the cup holders we bought in Schenectady?” he said.

“Yeah.”

“Of course. There was no way I was gonna forget those. It was a stop over there, too, so it's not like I could forget 'em anyway.”

“Okay, okay—I was just checking, you know.”

“I'm gonna start calling you guys Mom and Dad,” Sam joked.

“Why?” Charlie laughed at that.

“Because you guys act like an old married couple.”

“Well, we've been together enough to resemble a married couple,” Marla laughed along with him. Within time, they met up with Zelda, who had driven up there with Billy and Scott, and she didn't seem to mind bunking in their car with them despite Sam's offer to join her, Marla, and Charlie.

That was the night Charlie and Marla treated the both of them to seeing Motorhead and the Plasmatics after Stormtroopers' short set. The five of them congregated off to the side yet again as they watched Lemmy with that big fat bass guitar. At one point, Sam took a glimpse down at her top: a black button up shirt that hugged her breasts, even though she wanted to keep it when she moved to New York City.

She looked back over at Lemmy and those big thick dark mutton chops on the sides of his face, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his shirt unbuttoned all the way down his chest, down to the top of his stomach. She peered back down at her shirt yet again.

She was on tour with Stormtroopers of Death and she was about to start art school, and she fondled Cliff in a closet in the subway. She might as well let loose and go forth. She unfastened the first button, followed by the second and the third: her black bra and a sliver of her stomach were both exposed. Zelda gave her a thumbs up and then a high five. Marla turned around and she ran her fingers through Sam's dark hair to tousle it.

“Perfect and sexy little vixen!” she exclaimed over Motorhead's hard, fast, and abrasive power.

Following their set, Wendy O. Williams sauntered on with a blood spattered white camisole that looked to be falling off of her body and a mini skirt made of partially shredded, old duct tape. She had a short bob of bright platinum blonde hair with a little flip at the bottom and a tight snarl plastered across her face.

“Apparently the cops want me to cover up,” she declared into the microphone in a big upstate accent, “I wanna give it forth to all of you even if it means I gotta wear tiny clothes.”

Something about her made Sam uncomfortable, and yet it made her wonder as she knew her parents weren't around. She could be free for real there on the East Coast. She could have that devil may care attitude herself, much like Stormtroopers but taken through her own. It was like an epiphany of sorts as Wendy shrieked into the microphone and riled everyone up once more.

“Lemmy!” she shouted at one point. “Lemmy! Get yer ass up here an' sing with me!”

Sam watched her and Lemmy perform a hard and loud rendition of that song “Stand By Your Man” together, complete with Lemmy's guttural bellowing and that fuzzy bass with a neck that extended out further than that of Frank's bass. At one point, Sam glanced over at Zelda, who raised her eyebrows at her.

“Life goals right there!” she yelled over the wall of sound.

“Oh, yeah!”

“That's the real Mom and Dad, by the way,” Marla chimed in right next to them, and that in turn brought a laugh out of Charlie.

Wendy disappeared into the darkness and the four of them returned to their beds for the evening right outside of the club. Sam ducked into the front passenger seat, and she kept her purse down by her ankles. At least it was a warm summer night there in Albany; she nestled down in the seat and put her knees closer to the dashboard, but she didn't exactly press them against the hard plastic.

Charlie and Marla slipped into the back seat, but she couldn't exactly see what they were doing.

“Right there, Char,” Marla murmured. “Just—yeah. Like that. There we go!”

Sam heard something rustling back there in the back seat.

“Can I lean back now?” she called back to them.

“Oh, yeah,” Charlie replied, “there's about six inches of clearance between the back of the seat and us.”

“Oh, yeah, you could've done it anyway,” Marla added.

Sam reached down and lifted the lever, and she let the seat lean back in the darkness. Behind the alleyway and around the corner was Scott, Billy, and Zelda in the second car, and then Dan in his car by himself; she shifted herself around onto her side and pulled her kness closer up to her chest so she could feel comfortable. Lucky for her, they were in a pocket of complete darkness against the capital city lights. A sole orange glow from over the club's roof acted as a night light of sorts for her.

Even though she lay in an odd position and in the front seat, she closed her eyes and relaxed right there. She kept her shirt unbuttoned and thus she acted as though she was under a thin little blanket. Sam sighed through her nose and she brought her hands up closer to her head to give herself a touch more comfort.

Sam thought about Wendy and Lemmy, and the way in which their voices twined together with so much perfection. There was a part of her that wanted to be as brazen and expressive as her as well as Stormtroopers. She was a part of the whole shebang after all, to fully express herself come the first day of art school. Every time she closed her eyes, Lemmy's mutton chops or Wendy's bright blonde hair appeared on the backs of her eyelids, and every time, it couldn't make her go to sleep.

It felt like forever for her to fall asleep but she managed to do so despite the strange, cramped setting.

She found herself in a forest, albeit one that was filled with trees that ranged from being as tall as her to as high as the sky. The stumps were all solid black incomparison to the misty, hazy sunlight against the sky. She took a step forward and her foot sank down into the marshy ground. She moved back to her spot and she looked around the clearing.

Behind her was a line of bright green shrubs about the size of bread boxes; she peered up at the trees as they extended high into the sky.

The whole entire forest felt wet, as though it had just rained there. She tried to move about the soft wet soil but it all made her sink.

“Sam?” His voice echoed over the ground in front of her. She turned her head and she saw him walking towards her. His hair was as black as a hole but his face was shrouded in shadow. She couldn't even see his eyes or the tip of his nose, and yet the streak seemed so familiar to her. It extended back from his dark face and yet she couldn't tell if it was black or white, or of a different color. But she knew it was him.

Something hit her hand. She shook it about and brought it closer to her chest. She wanted to run, but she couldn't because the earth was too soft. The very sight of his hollow face was enough to make her shudder and shake. But he approached her in complete silence like a ghost.

His voice echoed and rang about the forest.

“Sam—” His voice was so distant and yet it crept over her like the legs of a spider. “Sam—”

“Sam!”

She opened her eyes and Zelda hung over the driver's side window. She gasped at the sight of her and then she recognized her dark hair. The sky was still dark but melded into a soft light purple with the sunrise.

Charlie and Marla were still sound asleep in the back seat together, but Sam lifted her arm out from underneath her and shook her hand about to get the blood flowing once again. She reached to the window handle: it was awkward, but she mananged to roll down the window for Zelda.

“What's up?” Sam called to her in a broken voice: even though she didn't have a drop of alcohol the night before, her parched and dry lips and mouth made her cough a little bit.

“Danny couldn't sleep,” Zelda told her in a near whisper, “so he got donuts and coffee for us all.”

“Oh, good! I'm dying of thirst right now.”

“Are they still asleep?” She leaned in closer to the window pane.

“Oh, yeah. I'll join you guys, though.”

Careful not to wake up Charlie and Marla, Sam climbed out of the front seat and stood in the warm, crisp early morning breeze for a second. She reached her arms over her head and stretched as best as she could. The buttons on her shirt hung loose over her chest and the upper part of her stomach. Zelda stood at the trunk and stretched for herself.

“You oughta just undo the rest of the buttons,” she suggested in a low voice. “Be like Wendy.”

“I'd have to take my pants off, too,” Sam added.

“And belt out an old country song with Cliff at some point!”

She brought a hand to her mouth to keep her laugh from waking up Charlie and Marla. And then she turned her head towards the sidewalk, and the street which stood empty and deserted behind them. Sam made sight of the mere edge of the fender behind the building's edge, and she ambled over there.

Indeed, Dan stood next to the door with a little white cup of coffee in hand, and a cardboard holder rested atop the roof; and he showed her a friendly little smile.

“'Mornin', Sam,” he greeted her: the early morning breeze fluttered his long dark curls.

“'Mornin', Danny,” she returned the favor.

“Would you like a donut and some coffee?”

“Pretty please.” Zelda joined the two of them, and Dan handed her a cup of coffee for herself.

“I have no idea how you girls take your coffee, so I grabbed a little bottle of cream.” Scott was still asleep in the front seat of the car next to them, whereas Billy had disappeared.

“Where'd Bill go?” Zelda asked him.

“Went lookin' for a little boys' room,” Dan said with a straight face, and that brought a big laugh out of her.

“Shhhh!” Sam hissed, given Scott, Charlie, and Marla were all still asleep. Zelda clasped a hand to her mouth and she giggled instead as a result. Sam poured some of the cream into the black coffee and she stirred it with the little wooden stick. Dan offered them a donut from the white folded box, which he had placed on the hood for a moment.

Sam took a Boston crème donut for herself while Zelda took the vanilla one with rainbow sprinkles on top.

“Thank you, Danny,” Sam told him.

“Yeah, thank you for this,” Zelda added. “I just woke up and saw you walking back here with the box of donuts and the coffee cups.”

“I wanted to get you girls some coffee,” he confessed with a shrug of his shoulders. “Something for myself and the three of you. Billy said he was gonna look for a bathroom and then something for himself, so—I didn't have to worry about him. He did want a donut, though.”

“What about Scott and Charlie?” Sam asked him as she took a small sip of coffee: she peered up at the sky as the soft violet gave way to yellow and orange. The sun was about to rise all the way up over the vast, sleepy side of upstate New York.

“Eh, we'll think of sump'n for 'em,” Dan replied as he tucked a lock of dark hair behind his ear, and that brought another chuckle out of Zelda. He turned his attention to the alleyway behind Sam. “And there's Marla!”

Sam turned to find her walking towards them with a little bit of bedhead and a shake to her step.

“What's goin' on?” Marla asked them as she rubbed her eyes.

“Breakfast,” Zelda replied with a raise of her cup. “Courtesy of Danny.”

“Oh, fantastic—” Marla fetched up a yawn, and Sam handed her the fourth cup of coffee.

“How do you like yours?”

“I can drink it black or with a bit of sugar,” she replied as she rubbed her eye again. “I just like coffee.” Marla took the lid off of the cup and took a sip of the straight up black coffee. She let out a low whistle. “Oh, that hit the spot.”

“There's Billy,” Zelda pointed out behind Sam. “If there's a boys' room, there's a girls' room nearby, too.” She darted down the sidewalk to go talk to Billy; Dan took a raspberry jelly donut out of the box, but Sam kept her attention on Marla.

“Had the weirdest dream before I woke up,” she started as she tucked a lock of violet hair behind her ear. The first rays of sunlight shone upon the crown of her head to give it a nice little sheen against that deep violet; a golden shine appeared upon the roof of Charlie's car.

“What was it about?” Sam asked her.

“I was laying on top of a target and it was spinning around in circles,” Marla explained as she brought the cup of coffee closer to her chest even though it wasn't cold. “Some guy kept throwing stuff at me. Not like knives or anything, but it was kinda nerve racking, though.”

“I've been having dreams about strange men with funny hair,” Sam said. “And then I met Cliff.”

“Oh, I've had those dreams before,” she explained. “Dreamed about a single guy in weird positions, and then I met Charlie and I had this weird like... deja vu feeling. I told someone about it after I met him, and she told me it's a sign that my life is going to take a turn for the better.” More brand new rays of the sun shone upon her hair so it looked as though it was made of a whole multitude colors besides that deep violet.

“Were they at all dreams about someone who resembled to Charlie?” Sam asked her, and Marla shook her head, but then she hesitated.

“Like—I dreamed about someone who looked like him, you mean? Actually—I have, yeah. There was a point I also thought it was Joey, too, given the curly hair. I actually dunno, though, now that I think about it. All I remember was a few times I dreamed about a boy with long pitch black curls down past his shoulders like the two of them. I dunno if it was either of those two guys, though.”

Marla took another sip of coffee and she kept her eyes fixated on the box of donuts.

“What kinda donuts we got?” she asked Dan, who lifted the lid.

“There's a couple'a chocolate ones in here if you'd like, Mar. Like there's one with nuts on top.”

“Ooh, I'll take that one!”

Within time, Billy and Zelda returned, and Charlie and Scott awoke for donuts for themselves. At that point, the sun had risen a bit over the horizon, and Charlie wasn't too pleased that Dan hadn't gotten him a cup of coffee.

“Alright, gang, this next stop is gonna be in a place called Ithaca,” Scott declared from the driver's seat of the car. “It's a three hour drive so we better prepare ourselves and give ourselves some closure before we hit the road.”

But Sam was eager to get going given the promise she made to Joey in Poughkeepsie. She had downed her cup of coffee the hour before but she awaited in the back seat of Charlie's car with her hand down between her legs once again. She touched the edge of the doves' wings once again. She thought about packing it in to a little stout box to keep them in place.

If Zelda, Charlie, and Billy all vowed to protect it, she wanted to further protect it from the harshness of the following road before them.

Three hours on that road all the way over to Ithaca. Charlie led the way and he swore he knew the way to the venue by heart.

Either side of the road was surrounded by lush forest and tiny pockets of houses nestled back away from the ribbon of highway. The whole place reminded Sam of the California coast line, especially the more forested part just prior to the ocean's edge. Granted, the California coast line had far more hills and scraggly shrubs before the ponderosa pines and vast beaches, but the whole feeling through the rolled down window reminded her of her own roots.

The minute buildings of Ithaca appeared from thick green trees while the smooth glassy dark waters of the closest of Finger Lakes emerged from right behind them. Charlie wound his way to the heart of town and the little venue that awaited them again.

“I dunno if the Plasmatics will even be there,” he confessed at one point.

“Why's that?” Marla asked him.

“No idea. But right before we left Albany, their manager told me we were gonna be going with Motorhead for the remainder of the tour. It's only for about a couple of weeks, but still.”

“So it's Ithaca now, and then after that?” Sam chimed in.

“Ithaca and then—” Charlie hesitated for a second as he peered out the windshield to check out the intersection. No stop light, but half of a sign on the corner next to them. “—then we go to Syracuse, followed by Rochester and then Buffalo, and then we double back to Pennsylvania for a bit, and then—”

“School!” Marla declared.

“School,” Charlie echoed, and they lunged forward.

The venue was nothing more than a bar about the size of a shipping container, nestled back in the trees right across the street and from the water's edge. Charlie took the first spot in the back parking lot, right in front of a cluster of tall trees, and Scott and Dan followed suit in the slots next to them.

Sam climbed out of the car and she peered up at the trees: she thought about that dream she had had the night before. Marla said something to Scott and Billy, but Sam only brought her attention to the driveway. She let her eyes wander across the pavement and then the water's edge. Charlie and Marla made their way towards the back door of the bar, while Zelda chatted with Dan about something.

That was her chance.

She never made a call to him, but she knew he was there.

Sam hoisted her purse over her shoulder and she headed down the driveway to the strip of dirt that lined the side of the pavement. The soles of her shoes crunched over the fallen pine needles and she caught a whiff of the pine itself. Pine followed by the breeze from the lake. She waited for a few seconds at the corner, and then she hurried across the dark pavement to that bare patch of dark earth. The waters glimmered under the late morning sun, but the sight she paid more attention to was the crown of curls that awaited her at the shore. She sauntered over to him and stood next to him, who had taken his seat on a smooth little piece of rock.

“Hey, Joey,” she greeted him. He lifted his head and he squinted his brown eyes against the late summer sunlight.

“Hey, li'l lady,” he returned the favor in a hoarse voice. His dark lips were smooth and silken, and his sun kissed skin had not a single blemish. His hands were empty, much to both her joy as well as disappointment.

“You're looking good this morning,” she told him.

“So are you,” he replied, “even after your first tour.” He showed her a little crooked smile. She gave her hair a toss back with a flick of her head and she gazed on at the sheet of lake waters before them.

“So this is Finger Lakes,” she remarked.

“Beautiful Finger Lakes,” he echoed with an extending of his arm out; he beheld the vast view of the glassy black waters before them. Despite it being the hottest part of summer, Sam shivered at the feeling of the gentle breeze on her head and shoulders. “Well, one of 'em, anyways. There's five of them.”

Sam tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear: even a gentle touch on her hair was enough for her to feel the oil and the dirt. She hadn't showered since she left New York City, in almost two weeks. She turned her attention to Joey.

“I am in need of a shower,” she told him, and he lifted his head to her. “Like—this is dire. I never noticed it before because I've just been with a bunch of people who hadn't showered in that long, either.”

“You literally haven't been able to shower,” he stated, and she shook her head. He nibbled on his bottom lip and then his face lit up.

“You know, it's a little bit of a drive—not nearly as bad as it could be—but I can take you over to my parents' place and you can use their shower. They're not home right now—they're over in Rochester visiting my aunt, but I can get ya in, though, if you'd like. What's the date after here?”

“Syracuse and then Rochester, then Buffalo, and then we go down to Pennsylvania,” she recalled what Charlie had said verbatim.

Joey returned his attention to the waters before him. He was silent for a long minute before he spoke again.

“I can get you back here quick,” he told her as he stood to his feet.

“You sure?” she asked him.

“Yeah, positive. I grew up around here so I know this whole part of upstate like the back of my hand.” He brushed off the seat of his pants. “Sam, I've gone a whole week without showering and I couldn't hardly stand myself. I'm taking you there—but tell somebody over there where you're going, though.”

Joey led her away from the water's edge and towards his car posted up the street: she could see the sight of the partially collapsed curb.

“There's Marla,” Sam pointed out as they reached the street and she recognized her head of violet hair near the front door of the bar.

“Go tell 'er about it,” Joey encouraged her. Sam ducked across the pavement with her hand clutched upon the purse's strap; Marla hesitated for a moment to await her.

“What's going on?” she asked Sam once she came within earshot.

“I am in horrible need of a shower,” she stated, “so Joey's taking me over to his parents' house for one. No idea how far it is from here but I just can't take it anymore, Marla.”

She nodded her violet head and showed her a thoughtful look.

“Okay. Uh—I'll tell Charlie about it. Just so long as you guys get back here by the middle of the afternoon.”

“He's an upstate boy so he knows this way better 'round here than I do,” Sam pointed out with a shrug of her shoulders. “I can promise you he will.”

“Okay, we'll be waitin' for you.” Marla flashed her a wink and Sam doubled back to Joey and his car.

He held the door for her and she bowed into the comfy front seat, and he took to the driver's seat.

“It's only an hour drive,” he told her. “So we'll be back here in time for the whole set up session.” He shut the door and he hesitated. “Oh, yeah.”

“What?”

“I feel like such a complete and total dick sayin' this but—I've smelled locker rooms that smelled better than you, Sam,” he confessed.

“Yeah, I feel like a locker room,” she added with a shrug of her shoulders. “The floor of a locker room.”

“Alright, let's get going.” Joey almost fumbled the key but he fired up the car and they left the side of the street. They rolled down the windows so they could take in the late summer sunshine and the freshness of Finger Lakes. Even though it was an hour drive to his parents' house, a drive past the lakes and into a strange part of the wilderness, every minute felt like an hour in and of itself as the dirty feeling settled over her. She never exactly paid a lot of attention to it before given she was exposed to a few people just like her, but as she sat there in the front seat of Joey's car, it only made her realize things. The crown of her head and her skin all itched from the feeling.

Two weeks without a shower. Two weeks in only two different pairs of underwear. She wondered if Zelda was used to it all, and she wondered if the guys in Legacy had problems with it themselves.

“It's okay, we're almost there,” Joey promised her as he brought them to the middle of the road for a few seconds. “We're literally almost there.” He hung a left and they headed down the narrow little cul de sac there. He pulled up to a little one story brick house surrounded by more of those same lush trees on the right side.

“This is your parents' house?” she asked him with a smile.

“Their new one, anyways. I grew up over in Oswego, which is literally a straight shot from here. And we're actually not too far from Syracuse, either. But anyways—” He was quick to unfasten his seat belt and he led her up to the front step. He unlocked the front door with the spare on his key ring and Sam was met with a cozy front living room that smelled of soup and fresh new fabric.

“Okay, I think my mom has towels in the linen closet—I'll pick out one for ya. Just go down the hall and you'll see the bathroom right there... she has really nice soap and shampoo in there. It's a nice big bottle so you can probably take a tiny bit and it wouldn't make a difference.” Sam set down her purse on the coffee table and she jogged down the narrow hallway to the cozy bright bathroom with an olive green rug. She couldn't get those clothes off of her quicker. She couldn't switch on the water faster.

Such bliss!

The lavender in the soap nourished her while it washed away all the dirty feeling from her skin. Given he wasn't joking about the size of the shampoo bottle, she washed her hair twice with a bit the size of a dime every time. When she switched off the water, she breathed a sigh of relief. She was about to climb out of the tub when she realized something. All of her clean underwear awaited her in her suitcases in Charlie's car. This was his parents' house, but she couldn't take it anymore.

She bowed her head out from behind the curtain and she tucked the pair of underwear into the wicker basket next to her tub. She even buried it underneath a few wads of tissue and washed her hands from the tub faucet before she called Joey in for a clean towel.

She kept herself tucked behind the curtain as he stepped in there.

“Just the best feeling, isn't it?” he asked her and that crooked smile never faded for a second. She took the towel and dried off her head and shoulders before she moved onto her body. It was going to be awkward, but she had to tough it out for a little bit longer across New York and Pennsylvania before they returned home. She did have a skirt if push came to shove for the first day of school.

She slipped on her jeans over her bare legs and then she put her shirt back on. She ruffled her hair with the towel once more before she slipped it into the hamper at the end of the hall.

Joey handed her her purse once she returned to the front of the house and they headed back outside. Just in time.

“Joey?” she started as he locked the door; he peered over his shoulder at her. “Thank you.”

“Just doin' what I can,” he said, and he tucked the key into his jeans pocket. “Just doin' what I can to help. C'mon—let's get ya back there.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #anthrax fanfic #anthrax #chapter 12 #stormtroopers of death #scott ian #charlie benante #dan lilker #billy milano #joey belladonna #deadly nightshade #book two #fever in fever out #fever in fever out fanfic #also on ao3 #writing #text

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all-by-myself98 · 5 years

Text

Shared Sorrows

Fandom: Kingsman (Set after TGC)

Prompt: In a world where people have their soulmate's name on their body somewhere, Reader and B don't have each other's name, but fall in love anyway.

Character: Jack Daniels (AKA Agent Whiskey)

It had started out simple between you and Jack. You met at a bar you began working at. A guy had groped you in a not-so-innocent manner and he kicked his ass and threw him out. You thanked him with a refill of whiskey on the house.

Then he began coming almost every week around the same time. Sometimes, he was alone, other times he had a few people from work with him.

You really hadn’t meant to gain such a schoolgirl crush on the older man but you had felt lonely for years and to have a man treat you so kindly and so protectively like your own soulmate used to had triggered old feelings. Feelings of happiness and sadness. Safety and grief.

A month after you had originally met Jack, you had to take some time off from work because of these feelings surfacing up and forcing you to mourn once again.

The next week you’re back, you try to avoid his eyes but fail on numerous occasions. When it was finally time for your shift to end, he approaches you.

“I don’t mean to be so forward,” he starts, “but I was wonderin’ if I could take you out after your shift ends. Maybe for some late dinner?”

You’re hesitating right now. The sweet girl with the crush wants to know Jack more, but the strong young woman who failed to live a full and prosperous life with her true soulmate tells you no. He probably has his own soulmate waiting somewhere out there.

“It don’t have to be a date if you don’t want it. Just two friends talkin’.” He assures. “I’m not lookin’ for a date or anything, just to talk. Get to know you.”

This relaxes the heartbroken woman inside of you. “Okay... I’m off in 5. Meet me out front?” He nods in agreement.

When you see Jack afterwards leaning on a dark blue truck, you’re still nervous. You know he said it isn’t a date, but you’re still scared shitless that he’ll expect something of you. Maybe him saving the day when he first met you was all a big long-term ploy to get in your pants. Maybe he’s nothing like your sweet Vincent was.

The place he takes you to is a small diner just off the interstate, open 24/7 and wafting with burgers and fries once you enter. “Hope you don’t mind the place. I just love their bacon burgers.”

You’re familiar with the place a little bit. Some of your coworkers go here to get food after their late night shifts too. They always try and convince you to join them because they know how much of a sucker you are for soft-serve ice cream and apparently this place has the best homemade selections. Problem is, you never accepted their invites because you don’t go out much since Vincent.

“I’ve heard of their ice cream. Supposed to be good.” You reply.

“You ain’t from around here.” He can probably tell due to your lack of a southern accent. Why else would someone drop everything and move to Kentucky? The fried chicken?

“I’m not. I’m from the New England area.”

You continue talking on and off through the night. You order your food and Jack screws around with the karaoke for a little bit to find a good song. Once he finally rests on a choice and your food arrives, you talk some more. Just simple things. Favorite food, favorite vacation spot, ideal pet, and so much more. Slowly, you begin to delve more into personal things.

“Why leave New England for this piss poor place?” It was the question you had been dreading this whole time. Why come here? Why leave home? What’s here that isn’t there? “You don’t gotta answer if you’re not comfortable.”

You shake your head. “I’m okay... It’s just hard to talk about.”

He places one of his hands on yours and squeezes gently. He doesn’t want to frighten you away but he want’s to tell you he’s here to talk to and it’s okay. “You take all the time you need.”

Thinking of Vincent is always difficult to do. You had loved him with all your heart. Hell, his name, now charred and written in ashy gray letters, rested right above your left hipbone. And your name had been on his left pec, rested right above his heart.

“My husband... My soulmate... His name was Vincent. He passed away two years ago. I just couldn’t live in that place anymore without him.”

There was silence for a few moments before he squeezes your hand once more. “I’m so sorry... That must have been horrible.”

“I mean, I really should have been more prepared. Should have expected it more.” You counter, slipping your hand away from him. “He’d been struggling with illnesses his whole life. By the end of it, he couldn’t even walk.”

He stops you by grabbing your hand back. “You should never have to expect that to happen. Losing someone as important as your soulmate... It’s harsh and powerful and it kills a part of you. You’re no longer whole.”

You can feel his true and honest empathy. He really knows your pain because he too has felt it. “And your soulmate? Who were they?”

Jack seems to double back, slips his hand off of you and leans back into the booth. He’s angry and pissed off.

“If you don’t want to share, that’s okay.” You assure, reaching for his hand to squeeze it in comfort just as he did earlier.

“No, it’s the least I could do after everythin’ you told me. It just... wasn’t as peaceful.” He takes a deep breath and steels himself. “It was... goddamn, over 20 years ago. Her name was Maria. She was pregnant with our son. But she went out shoppin’ and some druggies robbed the store...” He looks like he wants to say more about it. The way he spoke so venomously about the ‘druggies’. But he takes in another deep breath. “Cops said wrong place, wrong time...”

“My god...” You almost continue to speak but the waitress comes by.

“Food treating y’all okay? Were you looking to stay for dessert?” She asks. Her cheery and happy tone seems to be a bit ironic considering the mood of the table before she came by and what you were talking about.

“Just a dessert menu please, Carol.” Jack mumbles. She leaves as quickly as she arrived, fake smile still plastered to her face.

You almost continue to talk, tell him you feel horrible for him. He does the talking instead.

“I almost tried to kill ‘em. Those druggies. Twice. First time, they almost got away with no jail time. I followed ‘em out the courthouse, had a switchblade from my stint in the army... Someone stopped me and took me in, helped me. Second time, those same people stopped me again, gave me a second chance I don’t deserve.”

You counter his words. “We all deserve a second chance. Every single one of us. And maybe that’s idealist of me but it’s what I believe.”

Carol the waitress comes back, dessert menu in hand, and places it on the counter, “I’ll come by in 5 to see if you’re ready.”

She leaves and you two no longer talk about Vincent or Maria for the rest of the dinner. You are all cried out and much too tired to think about it any longer.

So you go back to talking about small and meaningless stuff. Your dream jobs as a child, favorite movie, anything you can think of.

After you get your dessert and Jack generously pays for the whole meal (despite your complaints that it wasn’t necessary), you walk in silence back to his truck. It’s 2 AM now. You admire the stars above for a bit before a question pops into your head.

“Do you think they’re watching us now? Vincent and Maria and your little boy all grown up?”

He halts his movement, having opened the passenger door for you. He looks up at the sky as well. “I don’t know. And I don’t know if I wanna know.”

He drives you home instead of back to the bar for your car. You’re too tired at this point to be driving and he knows it. So you hesitantly give him your address and, after about 25 minutes, you’re in front of your house. He puts the truck in park for a moment and turns to face you.

“May I ask somethin’ risky?” You nod in response. “You think... with everything we have in common... it might be right for me to ask you on a proper date? I can’t think for a second what Maria or Vincent wanted... but I would like to imagine that they would want us to try and move on, find a similar sorta love we had for ‘em...”

You know Vincent would want you to move on. With his sicknesses, you always talked about it and he always told you the same thing. That he would want you to move on, to not hold back when an opportunity presents itself. And Jack, you know now, is a nice man no matter how much he says he’s not. He’s good and protective and handsome and funny and almost everything you would want in a man.

You would be happy with Jack. And Vincent would be proud of you. And one could argue you already had your first date just then.

“You could argue that what we just went to was our first date. You did pay for the whole tab when I told you not to.” You tease to him. He relaxes and lets out a small breathy laugh. Then, you scoot a little bit closer, placing your hand behind his neck. “But we’re missing one thing that we didn’t do on our first date.”

“And what pray tell was it that we missed?” He asks.

“This.”

Then, with all of the courage you can muster, you kiss him. It was only meant to be short, but he places his hands on the sides of your face and reciprocates and it grows longer and breathier. His lips taste like a perfect combination of sweet and sour, and mold against you almost perfectly. His hands and his neck and everything is warm and, when you finally pull apart, he brushes strands of your hair away from your face.

“You seem to surprise me every day I see you.” Jack whispers.

“Funnily enough, I’m never usually this confident.”

“Can I kiss you once more?”

“Yes please.”

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

A/N: #3 of reawakening the writer in me. Now, a soulmate AU with Agent Whiskey of the Statesman. I set this after The Golden Circle because I was sad he died so, instead, I imagine hes sorta being rehabilitated by the Statesman and on a probationary period (of course, because he tried to let all of the drug users die).

As always, some constrictive criticism would be great. I tried to show his southern accent in the dialogue but I don’t know if I did very well.

Anyway, enjoy the rest of your Columbus day, y’all!

#Kingsman #kingsman the golden circle #agent whiskey x reader #whiskey x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #soulmate au #kingsman soulmate au #agent whiskey

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monochromemedic · 4 years

Text

Bad Dream (longer so read more)

Broken building in a broken town. Was a pretty good hide out, except for the fact that that half of the roof was missing. At least there was a nice view of the night sky. I took guard at the window, rifle at my side as I occasionally peaked through the scope at a running scaver or a wild dog. Deacon was hunched by a lantern, thumbing through a large pre war book as he sat against a rotting wall. The silence was so odd, Deacon was a talker accept for when he had his nose in a book but, the silence now was rancid. Like something was wrong but neither one wanted to talk about it or knew what was wrong.

I ran my hands up and down the rifles stock, occasionally looking over at the spy. I wanted to break the silence, but for some reason it felt like I couldn’t speak. I felt like I could always speak to him but now... “Am I growing a third eye? You keep looking at me weird.” He finally said, breaking the silence. “No it’s just... something feels wrong. I just can’t... place it. Did... did I do something wrong?” He raised a brow “No. Not unless you did something we both don’t know about, I think it’s fine.” I gave a low noise of annoyance, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Something in the air... something wrong. What the hell was wrong? “Hey... Deacon can I come ... sit by you?” “Yeah I guess. Screw super mutants, and bombs coming through the window, am I right?” He chuckled as I sat down beside him, close enough to feel his cold hand touch mine before moved it back to his book. I rested my head against the wall, eyes trailing him over before looking down at the book trying to grasp what he was reading. It was gibberish Not a language I understood but actual nonsense. Mashes of letters strung together to look like sentences and paragraphs when in reality it was nothing. “Ha... hey Deacon what are you ready some ... spy book? This code?” I asked, nudging him with an elbow. My tone was joking but I could only feel the dread in the air beginning to build. “Spy book? What? No this is ‘The Seductive Tales of Marina Bree’ It’s a smut book ya know? Don’t tell me you’ve never read a good raunchy novel, or are you to in your own fantasies that you don’t need ‘em?” He joked, nudging me back. His jokes didn’t help. They felt hollow. Everything felt cold, hollow. I could see Deacons eyes through his shades. I never could. They were hollow. They weren’t eyes they were just holes. He looked pale in the pale light of the dying lantern. I jumped up, kicking my feet back as I gasped loudly, staring at my best friend stare right back, his cocky grin plastered permanent on his face as he spoke, lips still. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t tell me you’re feeling sick... do I have to play doctor for you again?” I could feel the house creak beneath us- no... him creak as he stood up, letting the book fall to the cold cave floor, knocking the lantern over and spilling it. The shadows behind the empty Deacon twisted and turned like an oil spill in water as he slowly strode towards me. “Don’t worry, I learned a few things from Carrington. You ever seen him stitch up a head? Can’t be that hard to split it back open to see what’s wrong you know? I mean... he probably doesn’t even have a degree for all we know...” His voice lost all joy, it was low, serious. The voice i’d only heard when he was truly upset I tried to back up but my hands only ran across more of the damp cave floor, crossing rocks that dug into my palms. Everything was wrong. This was wrong, this isn’t right. “What, you don’t trust me? Oh nobody trusts Deacon, I get it...And I thought I could really open up to you... but I guess your just like everyone else. Man tries to hide the shit he’s done and he gets castrated for it like an animal... It wasn’t that bad. I didn’t hurt them THAT BAD. I mean you could still tell it was a person by the end of the day, ya just had to search a little HARDER THEN USUAL.” His crooked arm grabbed my collar, yanking me off of the ground and hoisting me above him, his smile slowly turning into an intense frown. I felt weightless against him, like him holding me was as easy as breathing. My hands felt wet with the dampness of the cave floor as I bawled my fists up in fear, the sound of Deacon’s voice echoing in my ear. “Jenna... Jenna... you gotta get up, you gotta wake up boss... Boss...” I jolted awake, eyes wide as Deacon stared at me, blood running down his face, my fingers digging into his forehead. “OW... OW... CAN YOU LET GO PLEASE? I’M NOT A SCRATCHING POST.” I didn’t answer, instead I took in the scene around me. There was Deacon, looking normal, the shades not showing anything especially in the darkness of the room we were in. The room... it was underground, we were under ground in a little dug out cave we found. God that’s right we were sent to check it out and decided to sleep there for the night. My eyes went back to my hands, slowly prying off of Deacon’s arm and face. They were covered in blood, his blood from the deep cut I made in his head. I knew it wasn’t bad but the amount of blood from those things made it seem like the world was ending. “I.. i... I’m... sorry I... I had a b...bad dream.” I told him, my voice hoarse and afraid. “Must of been some hell of a dream, I could of sworn a feral ghoul was digging into me for a midnight snack.” He muttered, rolling over to grab some gauze which he pressed to his head. He handed me a few stray bits of cloth, which I gratefully wiped away the blood from my hands. “You uh... wanna talk about it?” I spilled my thoughts. How it seemed so real, but so off, how nothing made sense and how he turned into a creature that seemed hellbent on turning me to a mass of flesh a super mutant would be proud of. He frowned when I told him what the dream version of him said, and I trailed off, not wanting to say much more besides how I woke up. “Damn...” Was all he said, “That sucks.” “I... you know I don’t think that of you Deacon it was just a dream.” Deacon gave a huff, flashing a smile “I sure hope you wouldn’t think there’s just holes in my head... wait... you know what I mean I have eyes.” I could feel the pain in his voice despite his guise. Bringing up what he did, and how my dreams twisted it on me. It made me want to punch myself in the jaw for what I said. “Deacon you KNOW... I have fucked up dreams. I don’t think that of you... i’ve told you that. Don’t... don’t lie to me man. Don’t give me that look, I know you well enough to tell when it hurts.” His smile faded a bit, pulling the gauze from his head only for some fresh blood to drip down. “I know. It still doesn’t feel nice to hear it is all. And I don’t like that the dream made you wanna cling on to something so damn hard.” “It doesn’t feel good that i thought of that either. Doesn’t feel good that I hurt you like this... like... I should have kept my damn mouth shut. I hate making you feel like shit.” I fell back to the cave floor, head hitting the sleeping bag a bit too hard, earning a small thunk. Deacon did the same, pulling out some tape and haphazardly taping it on to his head. “So we both feel like shit... what now? We go to bed like an angry couple who just said how much we actually hate each other?” “Don’t say that, makes me think you hate me now.” I muttered, my eyes watering a bit “I don’t, I don’t- aw damn.” He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck for a moment before turning a bit red. “I don’t hate you. I was just saying we both feel like shit. Shitty and tired, it’s one more thing away from the worst thing you can be. So I... propose... the thing.” “The... thing?” “What if we... did the thing where you wrap your arms around each other and we slept like that.” “A hug?” I asked, my voice cracking a bit “I mean technically the term is cuddling, I thought you were well versed in this but... yes. As much as I... HATE hugging we could do that, feel better ya know ‘yay feel not like butt’ and also get some damn shut eye. It’s a real reach but it’s something that would be better then us trying to have deep emotional talks while we wanna just pass out more then anything.” I looked at him for a moment, before muttering a small, “Big spoon or little?” “Duh i’m the little one, I’m the one that gets pampered. Beside big spoon gets numb arms. I need my arms for reaching and connecting my hand to my shoulder.” He joked, which earned the smallest of smiles from me. He turned away and I nervously scooted up behind him, wrapping my arms around him with a shutter and even more red face. This isn’t how I thought things would go, but I was more then happy to be so close to Deacon, something as rare as pure water in this day and age. I decided to test the waters a bit more, pushing my face against his upper back, hearing Deacon’s breath halt for a moment before returning to normal. He was as nervous about this as much as I was. He didn’t say anything however, and seemed to relax a bit more in my arms. Then again not by much, more like a diamond to a stone. I gave him a little squeeze and muttered an apology to him, to which he just grumbled and told me to go to sleep in a dramatic tone. I smiled softly and uttered “Good night D.” Under my breath. It was a few moments before he echoed “Have a better dream... ok J?” I nodded against his back and let the sound of crickets and Deacon’s breathing fill the air, lulling me back into a more peaceful slumber.

#deacon fo4 #self insert

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today-we-will-survive · 5 years

Photo

moodboard by @snowflakeu25

The Very Best

Pairing: trainer!Jungkook x trainer!Reader ft. Chikorita and Charmander

Genre: Pokemon!au, fluff, crack

Word Count: 1.9K

A/N: This is the last of my Pokemon!AU series! I hope you all enjoyed it 💜

“What do you say, Charmander, should we stop for lunch?”

“Char!”

You smile fondly down at the little, fire-type Pokémon. It’s been with you since before the beginning of your trainer journey almost nine years ago. Even though Professor Oak gave you the chance to choose one of the three newer starter Pokémon, you were adamant that you keep your Charmander as your companion.

The two of you are making your way through the Viridian Forest. You came through hurriedly your first time around when you were eager to get to Pewter City, but now that you’re long past battling in the Pokémon League, you’ve doubled back for more of a leisurely stroll.

You love the forest. How green it is. How you can hear the calls of the grass, bug and flying Pokémon all around you even though you can’t see them. You’ve stopped in a small clearing, the blue sky cloudless above you.

“I think this is a good spot,” you say before settling down in the grass and pulling your bag off your back.

Last time you were here, you were so bent on filling your Pokédex with new Pokémon that you never really stopped to just listen to the forest. But now you do.

Charmander chirps contentedly beside you as you pull a sandwich, some fruit, and a thermos of tea out of your pack. Its eyes settle on a shiny, red apple and it chirps again. With a laugh, you push the fruit toward it.

Two bites into your lunch and a new sound joins the ones surrounding you. Your sandwich hovers in front of your mouth as your ears strain to make sense of what you’re hearing.

I wanna be the very best like no one ever was…

You glance down to see if Charmander has noticed too but the Pokémon is happily munching away on the apple you gave it. Then you look up, your eyes scanning the trees as the singing grows louder.

I will travel across the land, searching far and wide…

Now you find yourself getting to your feet, abandoning your sandwich in favor of squinting into the breaks between the trees. At last an obnoxious Hawaiian print shirt comes into view.

“Pokémon, gotta catch em—oh!”

You stare at the boy that has just marched into the clearing. His doe eyes widen at the sight of you, the lower half of his face covered by a white mask. You cock your head to the side. Why in the world was he traipsing through the forest singing to himself? Your Charmander is still completely preoccupied having finished its apple and is now chowing down on the sandwich you discarded. You don’t notice though as you continue to peer at the stranger. Finally, you open your mouth to speak.

“Were you just—”

“Maybe,” he says cutting you off.

“So…what are you doing?”

“I’m on my way to the Pewter City Gym to get my Boulder badge.”

“Boulder badge?” you ask surprised. “How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

Just a year younger than you. “You’re eighteen and just now getting your badges?”

The boy clenches his fists at his sides. “I started a bit late,” he says.

No kidding.

“Besides,” he adds. “I’ve been spending a lot of time training up my Chikorita to be the best, strongest Pokémon in all of Kanto.”

You glance down at your Charmander that has finally finished your sandwich and is now standing beside you, looking at the boy with an expression to match your own.

“Best, strongest Pokémon, huh?” you ask folding your arms.

“That’s right,” the boy says. “In fact, I bet my Chikorita is stronger than your Charmander!”

Now you and your Pokémon exchange an amused look. A grass type stronger than a fire type? Even if Chikorita was a higher level—which is pretty unlikely—it wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Listen, uh…”

“JK,” the boy says quickly, his hands still clenched.

“Listen, JK, I don’t know that it would be a—”

“You afraid I’m gonna beat you?” he interrupts.

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Afraid? Not at all, I just don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into,” you say.

“I know what I’m doing. In fact, I challenge you to a battle!”

Oh this poor, naive boy. You look back down at your Charmander again and it chirps back at you with a shrug of its shoulders.

“Well,” you say, flashing a smile back at JK. “If it’s a battle you want, it’s a battle you’ll get.”

The two of you are standing on opposite sides of the clearing, the amused smile on your face a stark contrast to JK’s own determined frown. Even though you can’t see his mouth, you can imagine it’s turned down in a grimace. Your Charmander stands several yards ahead of you and the two of you watch as the opposing trainer unclips a Pokéball from his belt and clicks the middle button to enlarge it.

“Go, Chikorita!” he yells as he throws the ball into the center of the clearing.

The familiar sound and white light bursts from the ball and in seconds, a Chikorita materializes in front of JK. Its own red eyes are set in a concentrated stare, one to match its trainer’s.

“Alright, well,” you say. “May as well get this show on the ro—”

“Chikorita, hit em with your Razor Leaf!”

What? You watch in surprise as the opposing Pokémon leaps into action, a throng of sharp looking leaves shooting from its back and heading right toward Charmander.

“Charmander, dodge!” you yell once you break out of your stupor. You definitely didn’t expect him to attack so quickly before you could even discuss the rules of the battle—ie. how many Pokémon you could use, whether there should be limits or restrictions etc.

Looks like he just wanted to get straight to it. Fine. If that’s how he wants to play, that’s how you’ll play.

“Charmander, be a dear and use flamethrower,” you say calmly, a sly smirk pulling a corner of your mouth up.

Charmander shifts on its feet, wiggling its tail mischievously before lurching forward and shooting a blaze of fire from its open mouth straight at the Chikorita. You watch JK’s expression as his eyes go impossibly wider. When the flames clear, Chikorita has the same astonished look on its soot-covered face. Then with a dramatic cough, it sways and falls to the ground in a slightly charred heap.

“What?” JK shrieks.

“Here’s the thing, JK,” you say stepping forward until you’re standing next to Charmander. “Grass type are weak against fire. As a trainer, you should have known that.”

The boy pulls his Pokéball back out and returns his fainted Pokémon to it. “I just thought my Chikorita would be strong enough. I’ve been training it for a while now.”

“Sometimes that doesn’t matter. It’s all about having a variety of Pokémon to battle with. What else do you have?”

“Uh…” JK reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. “Chikorita is kind of…it.”

“What?”

“Char?!”

“You have one Pokémon?” you ask.

“Well, I figured if I trained it up and made it really strong, I wouldn’t need any other Pokémon,” JK says defensively. “Give me a break, I’m still figuring this all out!”

You stare at him in disbelief. “You’re eighteen and just now becoming a trainer?”

JK frowns. “Hey, I’ve been busy!”

“Doing what?!”

“It doesn’t matter!”

“Obviously it does if it’s kept you from learning the basics of Pokémon!”

By this time Charmander is craning its head back and forth, following your argument like a tennis match.

“What I’ve been doing is none of your business!”

“If you’re traipsing around calling yourself a trainer and giving us all a bad name it is!” you yell back.

“Fine!” JK growls then reaches up, rips the mask off his face and throws it on the ground at his feet.

As he looks up to meet your eyes again, you feel your own widen, your breath catching in your throat. Now, this is something you definitely did not expect.

“You’re Jungkook.” you say.

The boy nods.

“Like from BTS.”

“Yeah,” he utters.

You’re horrified. This boy that you just annihilated and then proceeded to yell at is the same one whose face is plastered all over your bedroom walls at your parents’ house. “Wh-what are you doing in Kanto?”

“Extended vacation,” Jungkook says looking down at his hands. “We’re taking a few months off before we go on our next tour and I’ve always wanted to become a Pokémon trainer so I thought this would be a good time to try it out.”

At that, you unfreeze. “Try it out?” you ask and fold your arms across your chest. “Being a Pokémon trainer isn’t really something you just try out.”

“When else would I get the chance to do something like a normal person?” he asks.

He has a point and now you feel even worse. Add “reminding him that he’s never going to be able to live a normal life” to the list of jerk moves you’ve made in the past twenty minutes.

“You’re right,” you say dropping your arms again. “I’m sorry. This whole thing just caught me off guard.”

“It’s okay,” he says shyly.

The two of you are quiet, looking at each other as you wait for the other to speak again. You still can’t believe Jeon Jungkook is standing in front of you. Not only is BTS your absolute favorite band, but Jungkook is your bias. To see him here in the flesh is about as unbelievable as it gets. You’re tempted to reach up and pinch yourself but you’ve already made enough of a fool of yourself. At last, your fire Pokémon that has been standing beside you watching this whole thing happen nudges you with its paw. You snap out of your thoughts, breaking eye contact to look down at your Charmander. It tilts its head to the side and trills softly. The thing ate an apple and the rest of your sandwich yet it still looks hungry. Your own stomach rumbles and you throw your arms around your middle to try and muffle the sound. Didn’t work. Jungkook’s mouth twitches up into a smirk and you feel your ears grow hot.

“Uh, would you happen to want to grab some lunch in Viridian City?” you ask the idol. “I mean, since you’re already headed to Pewter City and it’s on the way.”

Jungkook’s smirk stretches further into that famous bunny grin you’ve only ever seen through a screen and you feel yourself physically swoon.

“Sure,” he says with a sheepish nod. “But I might need to stop a couple times on the way.”

You look at him questioningly as Charmander scampers back to retrieve your bag.

“Well, I mean, I need to build up my Pokémon cache, right?”

“True,” you say with a smile and take your bag from your Charmander. You sling it over your back and make your way over to Jungkook. As you pass him, you give his shoulder a playful nudge, turning him around so the three of you can start heading down the path again. “Gotta catch em all, right?” You ask with a wink.

Jungkook lets out a mortified groan and you can’t help but giggle.

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dark0angel13 · 5 years

Text

LYHC Chapter five

How long has it been? How many days have passed? How much longer does he have? The questions echo within his mind like a mantra he can’t shut off, and he feels the nausea rise again. It comes faster now, giving him less than a week at full strength before the fatigue sets in once more, and he can’t think of any other word for the feeling that washes over him, other than infuriating. What a fool he’s been, thinking he could control it. He’s nothing but a puppet to the demon that hungers just beneath the surface, waiting for the perfect opportunity to snuff out his existence. It’s terrifying.

“Sorry I’m late Natsu!” Her voice shatters the chaos within him and his body stiffens. “The train got held up due to maintenance,” she continues and he feels his heart skip into overdrive. “I almost missed our date.” Her smile is bright enough to light up the sky and Natsu finds himself at a loss for words when she’s around.

Play it cool, he thinks as a sheen of sweat breaks out across his brow. He offers a smile and waves, “don’t worry about it, I haven’t been waiting long.” He leans against the wall to seem relaxed, but deep down he’s holding on for dear life, fighting the dizziness that’s washing over him in waves. He needs to feed. If he doesn’t soon, the shits gonna hit the fan.

“How was your day?” A simple question that leaves him lost in so many ways. How does he answer that? He doesn’t even know what he does all day. He has no place to call home, no job, no money. His lack of worldly possessions turns his cheeks red with embarrassment. There is no good way for him to answer so he goes for the vague response.

“Oh, it was okay, I couldn’t wait for our date tonight so I didn’t get much done.” He chuckles and hopes it satisfies her.

“You know,” she begins, marching up to him with purpose in her stride, “one of these days I’m going to uncover everything about you. What you do, where you live. I want to know everything. We’ve been dating for a week now so it’s only fair I get to know you better.” Though she doesn’t sound mad, the determination ringing in the air has unease overtaking him.

Where has the time gone? He can’t fathom it’s been a week already. It seems like yesterday he was saving her from the assault. Then he would find himself over her place every chance he got. He loved her company, Hell he loved everything about her. The twinkle in her eyes when she would talk about her work, the giggle she would let out when he pretends to know anything about language and literature. Her very existence made the outside world melt away for the short time they were together; during that time, he was normal. He was human.

She is his best friend, his tether to reality; his safe haven when his inner demons become too much to bear. They’ve known each other for only a month, but Natsu feels as if he’s known her his entire life. It’s only fair that he opens up to her. A relationship was a two-way street, his sister would say and up until now he didn’t know what she meant. But standing there, staring into the hazel eyes before him, he finally gets it. If he wants to keep her, he needs to meet her half way.

“If I tell you about myself, you’ll have to promise me one thing.” His lopsided grin distracts her from her probing enough and she raises a brow.

“Depends on the promise.” She counters effectively. Making a deal with a lawyer was not a smart thing to do by any means, but when had he ever claimed to be just that?

“You have to promise not to fall in love with me.” The words were out before he had a chance to take them back and his body stiffens. Did he really just say that? Of all the stupid things to say at a moment like that, he chooses the worst one possible. What a fucking idiot.

His words take her off guard and she freezes, her eyes going wide in what looks like a mixture of shock and confusion before all emotion leaves her face.

“What makes you think I’ll fall in love with you?” Of all the things she could respond with, she chooses that? Natsu feels a ball of tension in the pit of his stomach. She’s playing hard ball and he’s losing. He’s already said it, he’s got to follow through now.

Come on Natsu, don’t be a pussy.

“Because once you get to know me, you’ll realize you can’t live without me.” He’s really digging his own grave but continues before she has a chance to counter, “and in order for you to be happy, you need to live without me.” And there’s the nail in the coffin. If he could smack the shit out of himself right then, he would do so without hesitation. It’s like his lips are moving before consulting his brain and the results are on par with walking into school naked.

Lucy’s silent for what feels like an eternity and he feels his heart race in his chest. This is it, she’s going to dump him right here and now and it will devastate him. He would understand completely, but it would devastate him none the less. After all, why would she want anything to do with him after the cryptic shit that just spewed from his mouth?

“Who knows,” she begins and he steels himself for the worst. “Maybe the more I find out, the more I’ll love.” Did he really just hear that right? This woman was a god send. “But maybe it will be the other way around. Maybe once you get to know me, you’ll realize that you can’t live without me.” She winks and he sees the corners of her lips curl up into a smile. This woman was something else.

How naïve she is to assume that he can live without her now. Since he first laid eyes on her, he’s wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his time on earth with her. He wants it more than his body needs blood. But he knows, deep down, that a fairy tale ending is not something that is in his future. If she were smart, she would walk away from him right now. Hell, if he were smart, he never would have saved her. He should have killed her when he had the opportunity. Before he saw her face, heard her voice. It would have been so much easier. Now he has to live knowing that one day, she will find out and the uncertainty of her reaction to his deep dark secret, has fear clutching at his heart.

“That’s still a ways off though,” her words bring him from his thoughts and he looks to her, loving the smile she wears. “Let’s get through our date first. You promised me a fun evening remember?” Her ability to change the subject so fluidly, makes him realize just how good a lawyer she really is. Her sense of observation is out of this world and if he’s not careful, his dream of being with her will be shattered before his very eyes.

“I did indeed promise you a date,” Natsu holds out his arm for her to take and when she doesn’t hesitate, his heart skips a beat. “Where would you like to go for dinner my lady?” Being a gentleman doesn’t suit him very well when he kills people on a regular basis, but for her, he would be anything.

“I’m feeling sushi,” she looks to him, “is that alright with you?” Like he would ever deny her what she wanted?

“Sushi it is!” He throws his fist into the air and she laughs.

“Perfect, I know the best place. It’s a little pricy- “

“Don’t you worry about that. I got you covered.” He cuts her off with an assuring smirk and lets her lead the way. Truth be told, he only has money because he takes it from the people he’s killed. Never their credit cards though. He’s not stupid enough to risk getting caught with someone else’s card in his hand.

He can hear her talking but it feels like she’s far away. His thoughts are taking over and he’s trying make sure he has enough to pay for dinner. One hundred should be plenty right? He won’t eat much anyway because he needs to feed. He clenches his teeth and silently asks why it couldn’t just let him have tonight. Just let him have his damn date and he can feed tomorrow.

A wave of dizziness washes over him and he stumbles, but warm hands keep him upright.

“Are you okay? You’ve been looking really pale since I got here. We don’t have to have dinner tonight if you’re sick.” Though her words sound assuring to him, he can see the disappointment shinning in her eyes. She wants this as much as he does. He’s not going to let her down.

“I’ll be alright but I gotta run home to get some medicine real fast. You wanna go on ahead and I’ll meet you there?” She doesn’t believe his words and he knows it.

“If you’re sick, we can reschedule…” her voice fades, almost as if she’s giving him an out and it only serves to piss him off.

“I want this date more than anything Luce, I’ll be right behind you I promise.” He holds her hand in his and smiles his best smile and that seems to give her the security she needed. Her warmth gives him energy and her presence makes him feel safe. Like he can be himself. He dares not test those waters though.

“I’ll hold you to that, you have fifteen minutes. If you’re any later I’m making you pay for dessert too.” Her voice is light and they both chuckle before he bows and takes off, doing his best to stay upright until he’s out of eye shot.

There is no time to be picky, he decides as his eyes lock onto the closest victim to him. An older gentleman, judging by the cane in his hand. His form was shaky and his body frail and Natsu knows this is the best option for quick. He wastes no time in walking up the man, a smile plastered on his face.

“Hello sir, would you like some help?” The closer he gets, Natsu realizes the man is blind. This couldn’t get any better.

“Could you turn me in the direction to the park?” His voice sounded warm and a small part of him felt bad for what he’s about to do, but the other part, the part of him that required the kill to survive, urges him on saying it's for the best. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Natsu’s not really sure, but he does know that if he doesn’t feed, his sickness is only going to get worse. If he wants to spend more time with Lucy, he’ll kill anyone in order to make that a reality.

“Would you like to me take you there? It’s about four blocks from where we are now.” Keep your voice calm and light. Lure him in with your charm, he thinks, offering his arm to the man.

“That would be much appreciated,” the man replies with a smile. “Thank you for helping an old man like me.”

No, thank you for helping a monster like me, he wants to say back but holds his thoughts in.

“It’s no problem at all, I was just on my way back home and the park is on my way there.” Which isn’t exactly a lie but the old man doesn’t need to know that.

“Well thank you- “he pauses and turns to Natsu. “What’s your name? I feel bad calling you ‘boy’.” The sincerity in his tone has Natsu rethinking his plan to kill him.

“Natsu.” Is all he responds with. There was no point in giving too much away when this man didn’t have much longer to live. The less strings attached, the easier it will be.

“A nice name to match a nice young man.” Natsu feels his heart clench in his chest. This wasn’t going to be easy by any means.

The closer they got to the park, the less sure he was of killing this old man. He lived through a large war, lost his wife to cancer two years ago, and is on the outs with his only son. How was Natsu supposed to snuff out the life of someone like that?

“Stop right there,” a strong voice sounds from behind them and they both freeze, “give me all your cash and your phones. If you turn around, I’ll put a bullet in the old man’s head.” So violent, so menacing; so annoying, Natsu thinks as he raises his arms.

“Don’t hurt him, my grandfather is blind.” Lying was beginning to come easier to him these days. His entire existence is a lie after all.

“Do as I say and nothing will happen to him.” The voice says again, closer this time and Natsu feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“You’re really going to rob and old blind man and a young man riddled with cancer?” The old man speaks and Natsu feels his blood run cold. He didn’t say anything about having cancer.

The man curses and silence falls for what feels like eternity before he speaks again, “You’re not worth it anyway.” Seconds later the sound of footsteps retreating echoes in his ears and Natsu visibly relaxes.

“Looks like he still had a heart underneath his bad decisions.” The man’s voice is light.

“How did you know I have cancer?” Might as well get right to the point.

“I’ve been blind since I fought in the war Natsu. Losing my sight allowed my other senses to kick in. I may be blind but I see better than most people.” His words are strong, confident even and Natsu wonders if this old man knew his intentions from the start.

“Why did you accept my help? You could have gotten here on your own.”

“You seemed like you had an internal battle going on. I thought maybe walking with me would help you figure things out.” God damn this old man and his ability to know things.

“You’re very intuitive,” Natsu replies, “what’s your name old man?”

“Ryosuke,” The man chuckles, “Ryosuke Kojima.”

“Why weren’t you afraid when that guy threatened to kill you?” He’s genuinely curious at this point and enjoying the conversation.

“Because I had you with me.” His words make Natsu’s heart skip a beat.

“What could I do. It’s as you said, I have cancer.”

“Aye, but you also have something no one else does.”

“And what’s that?” Surely he can’t mean…

“You have the will to survive. I knew your intentions from the moment you walked up to me. You would have protected me so you could kill me yourself. You need it to survive.”

Natsu is at a complete loss for words and his knees are no longer able to support him. He hits the ground hard and can’t stop the tears that escape him.

“I’m sorry…” he can’t think of anything else to say. He’s not sure he has the strength to even if he could.

“No need to apologize my boy, you’re not the first I’ve come across.” His words resonate within him so deep that Natsu finds air hard to come by all of a sudden. How is this possible?

“Calm down Natsu,” a hand rubs his back, “you’re strong, you can handle this burden.”

“How can you say that knowing I had every intention of killing you?” He replies through tears.

The man is silent for a moment before responding, “Because you don’t want to kill me. You hate that you have to, and that was the defining reason behind why I trusted you. You fight the monster within even though you know it will kill you. That’s admirable.”

“I lose the fight so much…I don’t want to kill people, but if I don’t, I won’t be able to see her…” he’s sobbing at this point but the hand never wavers on his back. Instead the pressure of the touch intensified and it makes him feel a little better.

“You love her.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes. She’s the reason why I continue to kill. If I can stay alive, I’ll get to see her more.” Natsu doesn’t know why, but he feels like he can talk about anything to this man. He feels safe around him. Like he’s able to be himself and it’s such a breath of fresh air he sobs harder

“Then do whatever it takes to keep her.” Shock races through him. Did he really just hear this man right? He must be imagining it.

“I don’t understand.”

“My home is just across the street, come with me.” The man walks away, leaving Natsu to stare after him like an idiot for too long before he’s up and running after him. He doesn’t know why, but Natsu wants to spend more time with Ryosuke.

The building itself looks ordinary, brick exterior with fire escapes at every level, but the inside makes him feel at home immediately. Ground floor apartment with more space than his grandfather’s entire house. Natsu looks around, his jaw slack, as he takes in his surroundings.

The floor to ceiling windows are what catch his eye first and he spends a moment just admiring the view, saddened that the old man can’t see it too. The place itself is cozy, the main area being a living and kitchen combo. Natsu nods absently. Yes, he thinks, this is a nice place and it feels welcoming to him. The only other thing he notices, is that there isn’t a single thing on the floor that Ryosuke can trip on and he wonders how the man keeps such a tidy house. Oh well, a question for another day.

“It’s not much but it’s home.” Ryosuke smiles and sits in one of the chairs.

Not much? Natsu thinks enviously, you have a home. You have a place to call your own. That’s more than I have.

“You have a very nice home.” What else is he supposed to say to that? Gee I wish I had a home like this. Hell, I wish I had a home period.

“In the freezer, you’ll find what you need. Place it in the microwave for five minutes and you’ll be good to go.” What the fuck was he talking about? Natsu follows his orders, confusion on his face but when his eyes land on a bag of frozen O neg, everything clicks into place.

“Will this work? Will I be able to survive without killing people?”

“No, your body will always need fresh blood, this is just a stop gap until you find a better victim.” Ryosuke talks like it’s no big deal, like it’s a normal everyday thing for someone to have to kill people to survive.

“You make it sound so easy.” Natsu deadpans.

“If you know where to look, it’s easier than taking candy from a baby.”

“Where should I look then?”

“We will talk about that later,” he pauses when the microwave beeps and Natsu downs the glass like it was the last glass of water on earth and he was dying from dehydration. It was warm, thick, and filled him with satisfaction. “That will hold you for now. You need to get back to her right? You said you had fifteen minutes and we’ve used up ten already.”

“Oh, shit my date!” Natsu has completely lost track of time with the events that just unfolded. He has to keep his word to her, but he also wants to stay here and talk to Ryosuke.

“I have a spare room that I don’t use. You’re welcome to stay with me if you don’t have a place.” This man was a gift from God, Natsu thinks, and as if his body moves on its own, he’s on his knees before him.

“Thank you so much for your kindness sir! I will never be able to repay this debt.”

��Get up and go to your date. We will talk more when you return. I’ll leave the key under the mat.”

“Thank you Ryosuke sir!”

“Call me Happy. That was my nickname during the war.”

Natsu leaves after voicing another thank you and he makes a mental note to ask him about the nickname later.

His body feels lighter, his mind isn’t as clouded and his hunger has subsided along with the nausea and dizziness. Right this moment, Natsu is normal once more and looking forward to his date with Lucy.

When he fed for the first time, he would test to see how long he could go before he absolutely needed blood again. His max was ten days. By day seven he would get nauseous and dizzy, and by day ten the hallucinations would start again.

As he’s learned more about himself, he’s come to understand that the more he drinks, the longer he could do between feedings. Slowly but surely, he’s learning to see the signs of when he needs to feed. He needs to be strong for her.

“Did you miss me beautiful?” He opens with a smile as he sits down beside her.

“Cutting it close I see,” she chuckles and looks at her watch, “you were down to the two-minute mark.”

“Luckily I made it on time. You might make me read a dictionary as punishment.” He laughs harder when she glares at him.

“In your case you could stand to learn a few new words.” She retorts easily and he smiles.

“For you babe, I’d read every dictionary out there.”

“Awe how sweet,” she returns his smile and sips her drink, “that’s not going to get you out of dessert though.”

“Fair enough, now let’s eat I’m starving!” Which wasn’t totally wrong, but he’s satisfied one hunger already, now it’s time to satisfy the other hunger within him.

This was an ‘All You Can Eat’ place so Natsu of course has no problem knocking back five plates of food while Lucy on the other hand was full after two.

“Hey don’t be down about that, you ate like a champ.”

“I’m a lady Natsu, I can’t eat so much, I’ll get fat.”

“I’m a lucky guy,” he wipes his mouth and holds his drink out to her, “I have a smart, beautiful woman who can also eat like no other. You’re special Luce and you’re nowhere near fat. I like a woman who can pack it away. Most girls eat a damn almond and say they’re full. It gets kind of annoying to be honest. You’re a breath of fresh air.”

The look on her face has his heart going into overdrive. She’s turned a soft shade of red and her hazel eyes are glistening like diamonds. Her look of shock mixed with embarrassment makes him smile at her.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No, it’s just- “she pauses as if she’s thinking, “no one has ever said that to me. Thank you Natsu.”

The rest of the meal goes by in the blink of an eye and before he knows it, they’re walking back to her place and he’s trying to talk himself into actually kissing her this time. The first date they went on to the fair, ended with him chickening out at her doorstep and running off embarrassed. Not this time, he thinks with resolve. This time he’s gonna kiss her.

“That was delicious, man I’m so full!” Lucy stretches and rubs her stomach and Natsu chuckles.

“Got a food baby going on?”

“Hell yeah. Look at this, I look like I’m four months pregnant! I could totally park in the expectant mother spot if I wanted to!” Her laugh is infectious and he can’t help the chuckle that escapes him while she rubs her belly. Not a second later though, she stops mid step and Natsu looks to her confused.

“You okay Luce?”

“Yeah I’m fine I just…I’ve never said that before.” She looks to him and laughs almost nervous, “I’m so comfortable around you I just can’t help but relax.”

“That’s a good thing then!” He smiles, “I’m glad you can be comfortable around me Lucy, I want you to be happy.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” They both laugh before he stops and grabs her arm.

“This is our final stop; they have the best gelato in the city.”

“Natsu you just ate five plates of food. And I ate two! How can you possibly want dessert?”

“I promised you dessert, didn’t I?”

“That was before we ate our weight in sushi.” She counters with a sigh, “and we shared the gyoza.”

“Yeah but that was dinner. There’s always room for dessert, just like there’s always room for pizza.”

“I love the way your mind works Natsu.” She laughs but motions to the door, “fine let’s have some gelato.”

“That’s my girl, pushing through a food baby like a champ.”

“My stomach is going to explode…” she groans but doesn’t fight the issue.

They take their sweets to go and eat as they walk and Natsu nods in agreement when Lucy mentions it being the best gelato she’s ever had.

“I told you so! My sister used to take me there every time she got back from a deployment. It was a reunion of ours.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a sister, that’s such a sweet ritual you two have.”

Natsu pauses for only a second but it’s long enough for her to notice.

“Why does it sound like you don’t do it anymore?”

“Because we don’t…” his words cause her smile to fade and he sees she wants to probe for more information but she remains silent, save for the expected ‘I’m sorry’. The rest of the walk is silent and Natsu kicks himself for even bringing his sister up. It’s not like she was dead or anything. In fact, she was very much alive. It would take an entire army to beat Erza. No, it was Natsu who was ‘dead’. He even went to his own funeral and watched her sob into his closed casket. Closed because when the police found his drivers body, they couldn’t find his. Nothing has ever shaken him to his core like seeing her cry.

“Thank you.” He says out of the blue and she looks to him confused.

“For?”

“For not prying.” He stops outside the building and turns to her, “It still hurts to talk about, so be patient with me.”

“No need to apologize Natsu, I’ll be here to talk when you want to. There’s no rush.” She smiles and places her hand on his cheek, “I want you to be comfortable with me as well.”

He smiles and leans into her touch, loving the warmth she radiates. A moment passes before he concedes to the end of their date and opens the door for her. “After you, my lady.”

“Such a gentleman you are.” She jokes and stops at the door to her unit, “thank you for walking me home.” Her smile is genuine and Natsu feels his palms get sweaty. This is it, he thinks to himself. Don’t be a pussy this time.

“Would you want to go out again next Friday?” He’s nervous when he speaks now and she laughs.

“I’d love to. There’s a cosmic bowling place about twenty minutes from here that I think you would like. Come by here around eight Friday night and I’ll drive us.”

“That sounds like a lot of fun I can’t wait!”

“You always sound so nervous when you ask me out. You did on our first date and you do tonight. Don’t be nervous Natsu, I’m not going anywhere.” She takes the initiative and leans up on her toes to place a soft kiss on his lips.

He’s taken aback at first, his body stiffening automatically before he closes his eyes and leans into her, his arms wrapping around her to hold her close. He’s on cloud nine. She’s so soft against him, so warm and comforting. He wants to stay there forever. The kiss is tender, hesitant even and she’s pulling back far sooner than he would like, but seeing the blush on her face and the lust in her eyes, is almost too perfect to ignore. She is beautiful and he is a very lucky man.

“Have a good night Lucy. I’ll see you for our date next Friday.” He bows but casts her a wink as he’s walking away and he swears he hears a squeal of joy from her.

“Get home sage Natsu,” she calls to him, “and remember, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be there to listen when you want to talk.”

He nods and watches the door close and all he wants to do is cry.

It’s not you not being there that I’m worried about…it’s me not being there. He wants to stay with her for the night. But he wants to make sure they’re both ready for that. And in order for him to be ready, he needed to talk to Happy.

Get home safe. The words are repeating in his brain like a mantra and he smiles. Yes, he finally has a home.

END

there you go guys! chapter five is FINALLY out. Sorry for the late update but I do hope you all enjoy it! if you’re new to Loving You Has Consequences, you can find the first four chapters on my AO3 account Here

As always, comments are much appreciated and stay tuned for the next chaprter, coming......uh....eventually!

#Fairy Tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #fanfiction #writing #Nalu au #Loving You Has Consequences

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misfitsluug · 4 years

Text

just listen to my voice | kritz

uhh this story is kinda old, so im sorry if it sucks; also kritz (kryoz nd fitz) is an underrated ship change my mind. i wanna upload more but im very slow with writing so im gonna upload an old story i wrote a while back lmao,,

anyways, hopefully it’s good! jus a reminder there’s some heavy subjects like, right off the bat so if your uncomfortable, then don’t read it! thank you, and have fun reading :•)

/ o n e. /

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cam.

The best way to start off the first night of summer vacation is when your Dad decides to kick you out of the house, again. "Fuck you, too," I muttered angrily to myself, kicking a rock that rolled onto the road beside me.

Usually, I don't come till he calls me, telling me about how pissed he is at me for staying out too late. I find it unfair, but I don't say much about it.

Anyway, I head down my favorite diner, my music blasting through my ears and my backpack slung around my left shoulder.

The night breeze hitting my face, the sky sprinkled with tiny stars while the lights from cars and stores passed by.

Once I finally approached the diner, I opened the door with a swing as the bell rang above me. I sat down at a booth next to the window, taking a peek through the menu in front of me.

"Hey, welcome to Nancy's finest wines and dines," The boy in front of me said, I took out one of my earbuds and smiled up at him.

He had blonde bleached hair with brown strips here and there with different moles scattered on his pale face; I took a glance at his name tag.

"Dahlia?" I asked, he chuckled awkwardly. "My name isn't actually Dahlia if your wondering, just covering a shift for a buddy. You can call me John," He replied, pausing as he looked down at the table. "Oh, uhm- you're looking through a kid's menu."

"Huh?" I looked down as well before realizing he was right. "Well, it's pretty late. Can't blame myself I guess."

"Alright, well, lemme fetch you a different menu. Unless you prefer your little kids' menu with crayons?"

"I'll keep the crayons," I grabbed the crayons and managed to make John laugh again. "Okay, I'll be right back."

I watched John walk behind the counter, reaching underneath to pull out a bigger menu and walking back to me. "Do you actually want something to eat?"

"Nah, in all honesty, I just wanted to order a coffee."

"Couldn't you have said that before?"

"Yeah but I'm an asshole like that," I stated, he rolled his eyes and smiled, leaving without a word. I had to admit though, he was pretty cute.

After a couple of minutes, he came back with a mug of coffee and a small bowl of coffee creamers. "Here ya go, uhm.."

"Cameron, Cam for short if you want."

"Here ya go, Cam," He restated, placing everything down before sitting down. "Since your my only customer tonight, tell me more about youself. I'm curious."

"So am I," I retorted, pouring creamer into the coffee.

"Ooh, very mysterious," He said intrigued.

"Maybe," I winked at him.

"Maybe?" He giggled, only making me laugh a bit too.

"You are beautiful," I muttered, slightly blown away at how this conversation is playing out.

"Really? I find that quite doubtful."

"Really? I find what you said quite doubtful," I repeated. "So, Dahlia-"

"It's John."

"What're you doing later?"

"Probably goin’ home, why?"

"Just wondering, gonna head down the train tracks tonight. A little adventure mind you," I explained, a small grin plastered on my face.

"Adventure?" John inquired. "Shouldn't you be going home? It's pretty late."

"Huh, never took you for goody-two-shoes. My dad kicked me out again and I ain't going back yet so might as well entertain myself," I added, taking a sip of my coffee.

"Hm, I'm interested, but what if I don't have any fun on your adventure?"

"That solely depends on you, doesn't it? Plus, I'm pretty good at having fun, maybe more than you if you're so worried about me staying out too late."

"Sounds like a challenge."

"If that's what you want it to be," I dared with a grin.

"Well, my shift ends in a couple of minutes. Mind waiting for a little?"

"I've got all the time in the world, honey," I reassured, John opened his mouth to say something but the man inside the kitchen coughed loudly, catching his attention as he stood up awkwardly.

"As you can see, I should be on my way. Before I go, do you not want anything else?"

"Nah, go ahead and do your job, Dahlia," I joked, John shot a non-threatening look while walking away. I smiled again, the hot rush of the coffee racing down my throat.

I popped my earbud back into my ear, spacing out with my coffee in my hands. After maybe, 20 minutes, I silently glanced behind me a while later, a pair of red doors opened and John walked out without his uniform. He wore a yellow, red and blue hoodie with white ripped jeans. "Hey, you ready?"

"Yeah, let's go," I replied, standing up from the table, turning off my music and putting my phone away inside my backpack, leaving the diner behind.

Silence filled the night air; the sound of leaves, sticks, and dirt crunching underneath us while walking through the forest. "Have you been here before?"

"No, I heard about there being abandoned apartments down nearby the train tracks, thought that I might as well check it out tonight," I answered, John nodded. "What about your backpack?"

"Eh, just full of spray paint."

"You know you could be arrested for that?"

"As long as I don't get caught."

"Good point," John answered. We chatted a bit more until finding the train tracks. "Finally, Jesus Christ."

"We still gotta walk more, you do realize that?"

"Yeah well, at least we found your dumbass train tracks," John grumbled.

"You know, you never told me why your Dad kicked you out. You don't gotta tell me but I'm just curious."

"He does that often, it's honestly a habit. He's technically my foster Dad," I continued, I chose not to go into detail. "I dunno, I love him but he can kiss my ass."

"Oh, sorry about that," John mumbled.

"Appreciate it," I answered, it wasn't anything uncomfortable for me to talk about. At some point, a building peered over the trees and as soon as we got closer, we were already there.

"Wow, it looks kinda beautiful."

"Yeah, it does," I agreed, stepping closer to the the apartments, admiring the art scribbled upon the grey walls as I opened up my backpack and pulled out my light pink spray paint, writing my signature (just the word Cam).

"Woah, can I try?" John asked, I nodded and he scrambled through my backpack, after a while, he finally pulled out a blue spray can. "You can do it, Dahlia!"

"Shut the fuck up, Cam," He sneered but I laughed in response, watching him try to write on the wall. "Here, lemme help you," I offered, I put my hand on his as I assisted him with the can, letting him write in his signature. "There you go, told you I'm obviously better at having more fun."

"I gotta admit, that was pretty sick."

"You sure you're up for this?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Because you said 'that was pretty sick' but I don't want you to end up getting sick," I teased, John fake-laughed in response.

"Whatever, douche," John insulted, painting more weird scribbles and I joined him. Our laughter was the only thing heard beside the sound of wind and crickets chirping. We painted all over the wall, covering other people's drawings in the process too.

John painted an extremely detailed penis, making the both of us laugh until a snap was heard in the distance.

"Cam?" John inquired, I was still laughing a bit before responding.

"Yeah? What's up?"

"Did you hear that?"

"Uhh, no. Why, what'd you hear?" I asked again, then a much harsher voice shouted.

"WHO'S THERE?!" It shouted, I knew that tone anywhere as I immediately grabbed John by his hand and my backpack, scurrying out as the policeman shouted at us.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck-" John repeated, his words laced with anxiety.

"We'll be fine, calm down," I spoke, still running until we lost the man in the forest.

We both took deep breaths, leaning against a tree. "I'm-I'm never going another adventure with you again."

"Trust me, you are," I raised my brow with a grin, he huffed and cupped his face. "Jesus fuck, that was terrifyingly delightful."

"Exactly why your gonna wanna go on another adventure one day."

"Fuck off," He spat, I felt a buzz run through my backpack as I grabbed my phone. "Hey, Dad," I sighed, rubbing my head. "Yeah, I'll get home soon- I know. No, I'm not with anybody. Okay, bye.," I hung up.

"What was that about?" John requested.

"Ah, just Dad yelling at me that I gotta go home," I spoke, looking down at my phone again. "It's 12:05 am."

"Oh fuck," John murmured, looking back at me anxiously, I could tell just by glancing at him that he wanted to leave. "C'mon, let's go," I began to walk again, John silently followed me as we reached the town. Almost nobody was outside, therefore most of the stores were completely off and the sound of two cars is heard in the silence; it felt like a ghost town.

We walked without saying a word, only appreciating our company until I broke the silence. "You know, out of the couple times I've gone to Nancy's, I've never seen you. Did you just start working there?"

"Yeah, Mom wanted me to get a job and that's the only place where they'd actually accept me, I guess," John answered. "Or at least, that's the only job that I applied for."

I laughed a little, my cheeks hurting from smiling.

Then we were silent again once we reached the small complex of apartments along the street, I could tell he's never been here before; we stopped in front of the entrance where a tall fence stood.

"Will I see you again? Back at the diner, I mean."

"Depends on when you want me there, honey," I said, winking at him as he silently smiled but I noticed the small tint of blush on his cheeks, however, I didn't mention it.

"Here, I have an idea," I remarked, pulling out a napkin and crayon from the diner. "Does it involve you giving me your number?"

"Yes it does, what I charmer I am. Right?" I said jokingly, handing him the napkin. "Whenever you wanna see me, when your shift is over or whatever, call me. Not like I'm busy."

"Hey, when your Dad called, why'd you tell him that you were alone?"

"Eh, just a habit. He assumes whenever I'm out with somebody, I end up doing drugs but I don't."

"Oh, well. I'll chat with you soon, Cam. Thanks for the adventure," John said as he stepped back.

"Au revoir," I spoke in French while bowing down fancily, listening to Johns giggle as he walked away.

I forgot the code to get inside the complex so I just hopped over the fence, my mind still thinking about John.

I just wish I hadn't gotten attached so quickly.

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1908 WORDS.

#kritz #kryoz x fitz

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seashellrosekitty · 6 years

Text

Crestfallen (Part Two)

Pairing: Scott McCall x Female Reader (eventually)

Wordcount: 2.2k

Plot: You’re new to Beacon Hills, grieving your parents’ death. Scott befriends you in Biology class.

Chapter Characters: Scott McCall, Natalie Martin, Lydia Martin, and Stiles Stilinski (real world AU - our beloved Alpha and Banshee are merely humans in this story.)

Warning: Deep Angst. The reader’s character might come off as depressing to you. Also, swearing.

Author’s Note: This is probably terrible. I feel like my writing is all over the place so please bear with me!

I was woken up by the ray of sun coming through the small part of the window that I had forgotten to close the night before. The light was seeping into my eyelids making my eyes roll back to the front and see red. When I opened my eyes, my room looked softly lit. It looked pleasant, as my dream. It was vivid. Clear as reality. I’ve dreamt of them again. But this time I remembered it when I woke up.

I was home again. I was seated on our couch in the living room. An opened book laid on my lap. Dad was seated in his favorite recliner, and mom...well...she was in my view, making dinner in the kitchen. And the house was filled with songs of Michael Jackson from the 80s. We didn’t say a thing to each other, but everything was good. Everything was perfect. Everybody was alive.

I wanted to stay asleep. I wanted to stay in that dream. But no. The day greeted me awake now and all that dream was anything but reality. Another day in this foreign room. In this foreign house. In this not-so foreign town. I drew a sharp breath before getting myself out of the covers. It was a Saturday. I had the morning free and the afternoon was scheduled for me and Stiles to meet for a History report we needed to get done together. He came by at around 4 PM. I was out on the porch when his Jeep pulled up in front of the house. He got out of his Jeep, clumsily carrying his books.

“Aren’t we supposed to do world history? Why do you have so many books with you?” “Hello to you too,” Stiles said to me, clearly pointing out I had to do better in this social etiquette stuff. Or whatever you call it. “We can’t just rely solely on our textbook, you know?” “Sure, but have you forgotten there’s Google and Wikipedia nowadays?” I responded as I opened the front door for him. “Yeah I love that stuff but this stuff is even better. Don’t you wanna ace History?” “I couldn’t care less,” I huffed. He turned around to look at me and I was just startled to have him standing too close to me all of a sudden. He squinted his eyes, probably thinking I should be blamed if we flunk History.

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.” I didn’t know he was such a go-getter.

When we took breaks, Stiles went to Lydia’s bedroom. And I spent the break hanging out on the poolside. It was getting colder each week. Fall was already in season, and the pool, just like the backyard and the front yard, was full of leaves that needed to be put away.

I jumped when my phone rang. It was Scott. What could he be calling me for? After two rings, I finally picked up.

“Hello?” “Hey, Y/N. Sorry to bother you. Is Stiles still there with you?” “Yeah but he’s with Lydia now.” “Great. Could you bring your phone to him, please? I need to talk to him. He’s not answering.” “Oh. Sure. Hold on.” I stood up as I said that and rushed to Lydia’s bedroom, still holding my phone over my ear. I knocked loudly.

“Lydia? Is Stiles there?” I heard shuffling and grunting noises inside and I just felt repulsed. “Scott’s on the phone. Said he needs to talk to Stiles.”

“Tell him it’s about his dad. He’s in the hospital,” Scott said over the phone. I repeated what he said aloud. Then I heard loud thumps and stomping feet, then the door opened revealing a flushed Stiles. His shirt was clearly just worn in a rush. I instinctively leaned back from the door as I handed my phone to him. Stiles loudly whispered “Thanks” to me as he grabbed the phone and shut the door. It didn’t take a minute before the door opened again and Stiles was rushing to get outside Lydia’s room, still holding my phone and talking to Scott. I was left still standing across Lydia’s door, with a peek of her room. I was obviously interrupting something and the moment I realized that, Lydia was standing before the door and gave me a sarcastic smile as she gently closed it. That was my cue to follow Stiles to the living room where our books were laid open from the research. “Y/N/N, I’m so sorry but I gotta go. It’s my dad. Promise we’ll finish this before the deadline. Hang on to the books for me, ok?” He said and then gave me back my phone, rushing to leave.

At dinner, we had steak, salad, and mashed potatoes. Natalie’s cooking was really good, but I couldn’t forget that look on Stiles’ face when he opened the door, even up until he left. It was plastered with worry and somehow, annoyance. I wonder what happened to his dad? I badly wanted to ask Lydia about it but I thought I might be prying. Besides, she’s never given me a look I could smile at since she closed the door on me that day.

***

I spent the next few days letting myself just go with the flow. I went to class, ate lunch with Lydia and her friends, did my homework, I talked to Natalie...I even smiled for her a few times. I felt like I was there but I wasn't really there. I felt like I trapped myself in my own head and let my brain do all the work for me like I was on autopilot. I couldn't understand what was going on with me. The only times I was ever really conscious about where I was and what I was doing was when I was alone. When nobody could see me, nobody's talking to me, and I am just left thinking how am I still breathing.

I took showers at night because it calmed me. One night, I stood on the shower and let the water run across my face with my mouth open so I could breathe. The droplets of water were soft on my skin. It was probably the calmest thing I've felt upon me since my parents died. Not that it was long ago, but nothing about me was calm or pleasant anymore. Nothing felt okay. But that moment in the shower was. I felt my heartbeat slow down and I kept my eyes closed. I wanted to cry in there, but not a single tear fell out of my eyes. How is it possible for someone to feel hurt and numb at the same time? What a complicated concept. But it happened to me. Maybe it’s happened to you too. But I hope you’ve handled your situation better than I did.

***

Each day, Scott would always strike a conversation between us. He's really nice. Sometimes I wonder what keeps him going, what keeps him positive. I arrived in our Biology lab before he did, and he greeted me with his usual innocent smile. He looked handsome that day. He wore a beige shirt and a denim jacket. It was simple but it suited him.

"You're early," he said. I smiled at him in agreement because I didn't know what to respond to that, and he pursed his lips as he smiled back when he realized what he said didn't really encourage me to say anything. At one point, I wondered if I should just write him a letter to explain things. I felt bad for the boy. "How was your weekend?" Finally, an open-ended question. Not that I would tell him about the glorious shower I had last Saturday.

"Good. I stayed home, so..." I shrugged, letting him assume my weekend was, as a matter of fact, uneventful.

"Me too. There was a lot of cleaning to do," he replied, scratching his head. "So, what do you like to do for fun?" Three weeks have passed since I moved here and no one has asked me this question. Not even Lydia. I looked at him and thought of what to answer him. I didn't even know if I was ready to do anything remotely fun. Autopilot, remember?

I raised my shoulders shrugging and said, "Usual stuff, I guess," then my mind drifted to a memory I carried from when I was eleven. My parents and I went to the beach and set up a tent and spent the night there. We had a bonfire and we watched shooting stars dart across the sky. I don't know why we never did that again. My mind drifted back to Scott, who was still waiting for my answer. "But I miss going to the beach and having a bonfire," I finished with a smile. I felt that smile. It was real. It wasn't forced. And Scott was left speechless and just gave me a smile too. I started to like that smile. I didn't realize that it's nice to remember the good things. I miss them. Maybe that's what good memories are for.

The week after that, I found myself spacing out in class. I almost never remember what the lessons were. The only subject I ever cared to be mentally present in was AP Biology. I couldn’t have Mrs. Finch embarrassing me with her sass for not listening. Once in a while then, I realized how easy it was to cut class. As long as none of Lydia’s friends were my classmates, I knew I was safe from prying eyes.

One subject I liked cutting was English Literature. Ms. Blake was a good teacher and all but I dunno. I just didn’t feel like being in her class all the time. I’d rather listen to Mr. Harris in History than learning about Mark Twain with Ms. Blake. One time, I decided to finally do it. After the third period, I made sure no one I know saw me. I went outside of the school and headed to the bleachers. No one was there. At least, no one I knew. Just some kids smoking their day away.

***

At the Martins' home, the house was usually quiet. I would occasionally hear Lydia talking on the phone in her room while I'd be doing my homework or watch TV, or her mom would be making our meals in the kitchen or talking to someone on the phone. I was grateful that both of them just did their own thing, not pulling a Brady Bunch act on me. Definitely, the Martins weren't anything like the Brady Bunch. One evening, Lydia's dad came to visit. He was tall, thin, and his eyes popped out of his head. Wherever he looked made him look like he was glaring at it. I felt uncomfortable around him. He was always so critical of everything. I think he never trusted anyone but himself. I thanked God that he didn't stay for dinner because I really didn't wanna be in that situation where I'm in the middle of a feud of a family I’m not even a part of. Whenever her dad came to visit, I noticed Lydia would be extra hardworking in school the next day. She would raise her hand all the time.

I never knew why he and Natalie divorced, never even really knew when they did. All I remember was that their family was different from mine. Lydia's parents seemed like the kinds of people who both went to Ivy League schools and intended for their daughter to do the same. And my parents, well, they were more carefree than Lydia's parents. They let me explore so many things without pressure. They've let me try art, explore astronomy, even a few recreational things like fishing, snorkeling, etc. The only pressure I ever got from them was when I got low grades. I was never an overachiever like Lydia, but my parents wanted me to have at least a good passing grade. Getting a C would already worry them. I miss them.

I miss their voices. Their company. The way they used to say my name. I’ve been having little moments of realizing how my life has changed drastically in their absence. There was no mom and dad for me to go home to. No mom to wake me up in the morning. No dad to watch action movies with. When I look at these kids around me in school, I see that they’re full of life. Laughing over Tumblr memes, cheering over their favorite boy band or geeking out over the latest Marvel movie. And here I am. Breathing. But feeling lifeless. Tell me. How can I move forward from this? How can I feel alive again?

Part Three

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