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juniorgman187 · 3 years

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Spoiled Rotten (Reid Fic)

Summary: After Spencer went radio silent on Reader while he was in prison, their pride and stubbornness threatens to tear them apart forever. Reader’s forced to mourn the death of who they were and experience the inner turmoil of navigating who they are.

A/N: Y’all are gonna kill me for the ending, but it’s one hell of a way to go. Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Angst Content Warning: Imprisonment, humiliation, abandonment, anger, frustration, angst, yelling, fighting Word Count: 5.3k Playlist: Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo

Time jumps are indicated by “. . .” or “_ _ _”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

A rather unfortunate predicament we’ve found ourselves in tonight. I can’t say I’ve ever been quite this uncomfortable in my life, yet I’m careful not to speak too soon. Because I know the second Spencer opens his mouth to break the silence we’re currently sitting in, I’ll stand corrected.

“You’re breathing really hard,” He tells me out of nowhere.

See, I stand corrected.

Now that I’ve become hyper aware of my own inhale and exhale, my respiration is just that much more restricted. I’m practically holding my breath at this moment - both from the anticipation of catching this unsub in the act and giving Spencer one less thing to scrutinize about me.

“I didn’t say you had to stop breathing,” He tacks on as if it would put me any more at ease. Not that if he had explicitly said such a thing, I would’ve.

Unlike other people, I wasn’t exactly jumping at the chance to throw myself at his feet so he’d like me. But to use that as grounds for his disdain would be foolish. Our rancor went deeper than the basic lack of synergy between us.

And in the spirit of getting to the bottom of that abyssal pit, I finally asked the question with words that always seemed to hang above but never would form.

“Why was I the only one denied visitation while you were in prison?”

It may surprise you to know that it wasn’t always like this between us; we were actually close once, although it is hard to imagine that version of us ever really existing. However, if I think about it hard enough, I can remember with perfect clarity who we used to be.

. . .

“Jeez, you really don’t like these things do you?” I nudged him playfully before feeling instantly guilty once I witnessed the result of my shove that must’ve been a little too much for all 120 (at most) pounds of him. I’d neglected to remember the strength I held over the lanky Doctor as well as neglected to notice where the trajectory of my push would land him - in the direct line of a circus clown walking the opposite direction as us. This, of course, brought him face to face with the character. Unfortunately, I managed to catch a glimpse of the lens of Spencer’s glasses grazing the white face paint of the caricature.

After a shudder of mortification and a very brave shriek, Spencer ran to my other side to be as far away from the clown as possible and apparently, as close to me as possible. From a distance, you’d think we were conjoined simply by the way he was glued to me - shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow, hip to hip, thigh to thigh.

While removing his glasses to clean them off with the hem of his blazer, he answered, “Carnivals? I mean, what’s not to like? What with the loud noises, the heart-attack-inducing food that’s more grease than actual food, or the sheer amount of bacteria harboring on each and every handle, hoop, ball, or button of these ridiculous game booths.”

“Wow, you really don’t like carnivals.” I should’ve figured.

“Nope. Never have and probably never will.”

As someone who looked forward to the fair every summer of her childhood, any aversion to carnivals broke my heart. I had a fondness for them borne in adolescence that I couldn’t quite justify now in my adulthood.

“But they’re fun!” was the best argument I could muster. The whine in my voice being provoked by the possibility that the higher the shrill of my pitch, the easier he’d be to sway. Turns out, Dr. Reid was not nearly as susceptible to my auditory persuasion as I might’ve thought he was. Just a stone cold, inconvincible slab of steel.

“I’m sorry. I know you brought me here because you love these things, but I just can’t get past the ...” He surveyed the fair, ostensibly against his will, in search of the perfect word to describe our surroundings. “Filth.”

I would’ve argued in the defense of the carnival, mentioning how it’s endearing that the only bathrooms for miles were porta potties, and that the screaming, crying, sticky children galore just added to the attraction, and that there was a hidden charm to the way the roller coasters creaked beyond their means with every ride.

But to an extent, I agreed. It was rather filthy, and I wasn’t much of a germaphobe myself so to someone like him, this would be hell on earth.

“Well, you get what you put into it. If you’re willing to overlook some minor imperfections, I really think you’d enjoy this place.”

Spencer by now had his hands in his pockets and his walking pace had slowed to a complete halt. There was a moment of skepticism, followed by a partially open smile to make way for the laughter that escaped from the disbelief that he felt for letting me break his resolve so easily.

“Alright then. What do you want to do first, Brat?”

The nickname I’d earned could be seen as meanspirited, but truly, it was affectionately diminutive. Like all good nicknames are. And like the proclaimed Brat I was, I’d taken him to all my favorite parts of the fair.

First came the bumper cars to ease him into the experience - as ironic as that sounds. He was reluctant to submerge his gangly body into a mini vehicle, much less one that’d been inhabited by God knows how many people before us, but he pushed his reservations aside when he realized he’d get to slam into my car (safely, of course).

Secondly, we went on the Carousel, but this was only in preparation for the real ride that I wanted to take him on next - the Swinging Chairs. He’d gotten a little nauseous, from both the repetitive circling and the galvanized chains he had to hold that were definitely held by several others.

He had no interest in going on the Gravitron - super lame, I know - so we opted for the Ferris Wheel instead. I didn’t mind making this compromise so much after recognizing all that he’d done for my benefit that night. And for his generosity and selflessness, I thought it only fitting to end the night going somewhere so tame he couldn’t possibly have any opposition to it.

The photo booth.

The booth in particular we’d gone to was smaller than an airplane bathroom, if you can imagine that. The bench seat was barely wide enough to fit Spencer, let alone seat the both of us. While he didn’t explicitly make the offer to let me sit on his lap, it was kind of a give in that I’d have some part of my body intertwined around him like stubborn ivy.

. . .

I still laugh thinking about the tangled mess of limbs we were below what the camera couldn’t capture. It was arguably the furthest extent of contortionist work I wanted to do in my lifetime, and henceforth exceedingly uncomfortable, and yet, I’d never felt more at home than when I was in his arms.

That night he would tear off the top three photos to keep for himself while I kept the bottom three photos.

To this day, I have never seen the pictures that he kept, and I’m left to wonder if he had them at all.

Because I still have mine. And they were virtually the only thing keeping me sane throughout his trial and subsequent imprisonment.

Six Months Ago ...

My eyes were locked on the loose thread of my cardigan that I was rolling between my fingers anxiously.

“Would you stop that?” Penelope swatted my hand away from my sweater. “You’re making me nervous just looking at you.” She grumbled.

“Sorry,” I apologized bleakly.

A few seconds later she groaned again, making me think I was still doing something bothersome, but it turned out to be just the opposite. “Ugh, I know that sounded mean, and I hate when I sound mean, but I can feel my forehead creasing from the stress, and watching you fidget is going to give me an ulcer.”

“I wish I could help it. I’m just really worried about him.”

“Well I am, too, but that’s not gonna do us any good right now. All we can do is hope for the best.”

Sometimes Penelope’s overly optimistic view on life was futile and unwelcome, and truthfully, this was one of those times.

“Penny?”

As she turned her head, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the lenses of her dark green glasses. I could see my own mournful expression as I asked, “What if he’s found guilty?”

She started to say something but stopped herself. “Right now, all we need to focus on is his bail. We can worry about a verdict later.” She put her hand on top of mine and shook it briefly to remind me that we were in this together.

Moments later recess was over and the team came trudging back into the courtroom.

The sound of the judge clearing her throat and our footsteps on the floor made this feel all too normal.

How could Spencer’s life be hanging in the balance in such a place as non-intimate as this?

It frustrated me how casual things felt today and how everyone was acting normally. Prentiss had yet to bat an eye, Rossi’s stoic expression never changed, and Penelope was telling me not to worry. Everyone was acting so aloof.

My eyes darted to Spencer, who was looking back at us woefully. I couldn’t bear to see him like that any longer, so I kept my head down and stared at my feet after I took my seat.

Even when I closed my eyes, I was haunted by the vision of him in a suit, just like one he’d wear to work. But instead, he was wearing it for this - this vastly different situation.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at him the same in one anymore. I’ll probably just remember this particular look on his face, in this god awful courtroom, during this horribly nauseating circumstance.

If one thing was for certain, it was that this would all come back to me if I ever laid eyes on him in a suit, and that thought fucking terrified me.

Because that one thought spiraled into the next: Everything was bound to change after this. Every little thing would change in every little way.

Spencer’s lawyer, the judge, and the prosecutor were going back and forth for a while, but I tuned it all out because I knew if I had tuned in, I wouldn’t have been able to hold back my arguments. Eventually, though, I heard something I could no longer ignore.

“If past behavior is the best indicator of future conduct, and I do believe it is, then your client presents a flight risk.”

I stood up immediately, getting a head rush from the speed. I knew what was to follow, so I needed to be on my feet the second I heard it. Maybe so I could run and escape before I had to.

“Bail is denied. The defendant will remain in federal custody pending trial.”

“Spencer!” I shouted, losing all the composure I’d been trying to maintain. I reached for him as if he was at any capacity to reach back and hold me. God, I needed him to hold me. Hold me like how he did at the carnival.

Hold me.

Luke held me back as I fought to be near him.

“Let me go!” I screamed, trying to break free of his tight grip. Spencer could only stand and stare, mirroring my own wistful glance. He mouthed something to me that I couldn’t quite make out, but if I knew him at all, he probably said something about not wanting me to worry about him.

“(Y/n), (y/n) it’s gonna be alright.” JJ reasoned, pulling me into a hug.

“How long before this case goes to trial?” I heard Prentiss whisper to Spencer’s lawyer.

“It’s a complicated case. I’d say three months maybe?”

Immediately, I worked myself out of JJ’s arms and pushed my way through the team, running up to the barrier between us.

“Spence!” I cried out in anguish.

To the sound of my voice, he glanced over his shoulder sadly. He wasn’t even shocked I’d been able to get so close to him - he seemed to expect it, and for that, he was sad. Because he knew if I was going to be as stubborn as to fight to get to him at this hearing, then I was going to be stubborn enough to reach him in prison, too. And should he find himself behind bars, he knew that I’d get to him one way or another.

That is if he’d let me.

“Be strong,” He weakly smiled. ‘For me’ his sad eyes begged in addition. He held my gaze for as long as he possibly could before disappearing into another room.

As I watched him walk away, I could feel my heart shattering and crumbling into the pit of my stomach. Perhaps that was a premonition, a true gut feeling, telling me something I at the time couldn’t have known and wouldn’t have accepted.

That was the last time I would see Spencer.

People always say when something unbelievable happens, it doesn’t feel real, but this? Nothing felt more real and more intense than this.

There was no other way for me to see this situation but as the first defeat in an endless line of them.

If Spencer was denied bail, what else could happen to him? Could he be found guilty too? Because prior to this, the denial of his bail seemed impossible. He posed no flight risk, but according to the judge, he did. So if what I once thought to be impossible happened, then it could and would happen again.

I knew Spencer was going to be found guilty.

What I didn’t know, though, was how I was going to live with myself from then on.

I didn’t go that day.

I knew myself too well. So did the others, which is why they didn’t object to my decision not to come to Spencer’s trial. They knew I was better off staying home. Especially, if there was the chance that I might react hysterically again.

I didn’t stay home, though. That part the team never found out about.

I went to visit Diana instead. A much wiser choice, in my opinion.

“You know, we’ve been talking so much about Spencer today, but we haven’t talked about you yet,” said Diana.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” I feigned a polite smile.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” She tilted her chin downward and gave me that sly grin of hers.

“No, no, of course not. I know better than to underestimate the Diana Reid.” I quipped, making her smile widen. “I just figured you’d wanna spend your time talking about someone much more interesting.”

“Oh please, Spencer and I talk about you all the time.”

I perked up from the checker piece I was fiddling with. “You do?”

“Mhm,” She nodded over and over again. “I always knew there was something between you two because you could always talk about each other to me, but for some reason, you could never actually talk to each other.”

For the first time in months, I genuinely laughed and I couldn’t help it. “He makes me nervous! I always feel like he might correct something I say, or tell me that there’s food in my teeth.”

“You know, now that you mention it, I do remember him saying something about seeing a really big piece of lettuce in your teeth one time.”

“Diana!” I squealed, pushing the checkerboard at her, pretending to take offense.

“I really don’t know what you’re so nervous about! I think it would be good if you just talked to him.”

“It’s, um, it’s not that simple. Not right now, at least.”

My energy quickly nose-dived and I tried to do my best to hide it from Diana, but it permeated through the rest of the visit. I couldn’t fully enjoy myself after it.

The team and I all agreed not to let Diana know, especially not with the uncertainty of the case. There was no point riling her up if there was nothing to be worried about. And I could only imagine how I reacted - Diana would be reacting 10 times more hysterically.

But as much as I hated to say it, I almost would’ve rather been in her position.

I would give anything to un-know Spencer’s circumstance.

Present Time ...

In this car, there was nowhere for him to run or hide, not like before.

Anytime I so much as entered his gravity by being in the same room, he’d flee the space in the next breath. Granted, he couldn’t really avoid me entirely. We did have to be on the same flight for an extended period of time, but he made that work by letting me choose my spot first, then choosing a spot directly on the opposite side of the jet.

What a gentleman, huh?

“Kudos to you, by the way. For managing to avoid me for this long. I imagine it’s been as not-easy as it has been incredibly-cowardly.” My words stung as they flowed from my lips as badly as I imagine they seared his already cracked skin. I couldn’t believe that now that I finally had the opportunity to talk to him, I was using it to be petty and passively aggressive. But then again, I could.

Because after what he put me through, he deserved to feel the full severity of my indignation.

My only wish was that he knew exactly how I had felt when I found out.

. . .

Icarus.

He died tragically while using artificial wings, invented by his father, to escape from the Labyrinth. When Icarus flew too close to the sun, it melted the wax that held the wings together, and he fell into the sea.

‘Don’t fly too close to the sun.’ That’s the moral of the story. That’s what Reid was trying to tell me. But I didn’t listen.

I flew too close.

I had approached the window with more zeal than this predicament warranted.

“I’m (y/n) (y/l/n). I’m here to see Spencer Reid, R-E-I-D,” I eagerly spelt his last name with ease as though it were my own last name.

She’d flipped back and forth between pages, running her index finger up and down the sheet for far too long that it made me worry. Turns out, I had every right to be worried.

“I don’t see you on the list, ma’am.”

I was so mindnumbingly dumb that I couldn’t even see how dumb I was being. “Oh no no no, I’m with the FBI. I called earlier and left a message, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember you,” She smiled politely, giving me the tiniest fragment of hope. “But you’re not on his list.” Only for it to be shattered in an instant.

I had yet to process or accept this information. “So what does that mean?”

“It means he doesn't wanna see you right now. And frankly, neither do I. Next!”

“Wait, could you just please check with him? My name is (y/n) -”

“Ma’am, you are holding up a whole line of people that wanna see their loved ones too, so I suggest you see yourself out before I call security to help see you out.”

I knew by her tone of the word ‘help’ that meant a prison guard would most likely forcibly remove me from the premises, and the last thing I needed was to feel even more humiliated.

I got plenty of that when I had to come back to the BAU.

“You’re not on the list?” Luke seemed genuinely shocked. More so than I was. Above all, I just felt really stupid.

“I’m sure it was just a mistake.” Stephen reasoned. He was so good at being level-headed. Which normally, I would’ve loved. But right now, it only fueled the fire burning in my chest.

“That’s what I thought at first, too. But later on, she asked him herself, and he said - and I quote, ‘I don’t want to see her. Not now. Not ever.’”

. . .

Those were the words that seared my skin, and he hadn’t even spoken them directly to me to do it.

The words that did just enough to heal me back to health were, of course, Penelope’s.

“Since you haven’t seen him yet, the rest of us will just wait until you have. It’s only fair that you have your first turn before the rest of us go back for a second time.”

Back then, it was easy to hold out hope, but the more and more time passed, the more he kept denying my visits. Therefore, the more my hope began to fade.

It had been weeks since anyone else had seen him before I finally surrendered. Although I had newly-brewing sourness towards Reid, it didn’t feel fair to deny him everyone else’s presence until mine was permitted.

Luke was the one who volunteered to visit first. And to my dismay, Spencer didn’t fight against it.

The proof was finally there. Now I could say with absolute certainty: Spencer just didn’t want to see me.

It was both ironic and utterly frustrating to think about how I’d never gone more than two weeks without seeing him. Even when the BAU got time off after big cases, we’d always spend that time together. The longest we’d spent apart was 12 days. And right when he came back to D.C, we were attached at the hip for the next week, trying to compensate for all that time we were apart.

Now, look at us. I haven’t said one word to him in half a year.

If tragedy and comedy could coexist, this would be it.

“How is he?” I asked Luke as soon as he got back.

“He’s holding on,” Luke affirmed with confidence. What he said next lacked any of that. “He told me to tell you not to worry about him.”

Something in me knew it was a lie. “Did he actually say that?”

His lack of an answer was one itself.

“Did he say anything at all about me?”

“I tried telling him how much you wanted to see him, but he just brushed it off. I’m sorry, (y/n).”

This became my routine for the months to follow. Every time someone would come back from the prison, I’d ask them if they talked about me, but the answer was always no. After a while, it had gotten to the point where I purposefully started leaving myself out of the loop. At least in that case, it was by my own volition that I was being excluded, not by a predicament being forced on me.

Not by Spencer.

“We’re not doing this right now,” Spencer declaration brought me back to the present, where I found him removing himself from both the conversation and the vehicle. When I heard the latch click to open, my hand reflexively flew to my auto-lock to prevent him from leaving. Naturally, he still managed to escape using his door’s button.

If I couldn’t stop him, then I could follow him.

“Then when will we do this? Huh, Spencer? When? Because anytime I try to talk to you, you run away.” The mere fact that I was speed-walking after him was proof. While he casually strolled down the sidewalk paying me no mind, I tried to be clever and walk down the street so we’d be somewhat side to side. I was tired of staring at his back every time he walked away. I needed to see his face.

For his every stride, I had to take at least three steps. He was gliding through the world so effortlessly as I was trekking my uphill battle. It was quite fitting, though. Further exemplification that, between us, I was fighting harder to preserve the people we used to be, the relationship we used to have. Meanwhile, he couldn’t care less. A stone cold, inconvincible slab of steel. Just like he always was.

As I began to speak, I had to also be conscious of the parked cars along the curb, being careful to weave in and out.

“For months, you have blatantly ignored me. The entire time you were in prison, you denied my visits. And it’s not like it was a one time thing. I tried to visit you over 100 times while you were in jail! 100 times I got rejected. 100 times I got turned away. 100 times my heart shattered.”

By now, I was speaking so loudly that I could see household lights within neighboring homes turning on. I hadn’t even realized how far we’d walked down the street and away from our car, but it was the last thing on my mind.

“Then after you were released, it’s like I never even existed. I had to find out that you were out of there a week later than everyone else because they all assumed you came to me yourself to tell me the good news,” I laughed wryly at my own stupidity. “Do you know how hard it was for me?”

“Do you know how hard it was for me?”

It took me a second to register that he was actually engaging with me in this conversation now. But when I looked at his expression, I could see that something within him had snapped. A little piece of me was glad, though. Now I knew for sure that there was some effect I had on him.

“Hard for you?”

“I know you came to visit me 100 times! Want to know how I know? Because I was there, too! I was there every time a guard came to ask if I wanted to see you. I was there every time I turned you away. And while you got to walk out of those doors every time I did, I was stuck in there, rotting in that cell, thinking about how badly I wanted to see you. How badly I wanted to touch ...” His voice faltered. “To touch you. But I had to protect you!”

“You do realize in protecting me, you were hurting me in the process.”

“Because you just don’t know when to leave well enough alone!” His hands tugged at the root of his unruly hair like evidence of the frustration that my stubbornness caused. “You’re such a pain in the ass because you can never cooperate! It’s gotta be your way or no one else’s! ‘Spencer, it has to be this way because I said so. Spencer, you have to let me see you because I said so. Spencer, you have to talk to me because I said so. Spencer, you have to ride this stupid roller coaster because I said so,’” His imitation of my nagging voice would’ve made me laugh before. Now, it was bringing me onto the verge of tears. “Since clearly no one’s told you this before - not everything is about you! You just want it to be because you’re a whiny, little brat! You’re so spoiled rotten that you can’t even see how far down it goes. If you did, you’d know that you’re rotten to the core and that nothing will ever satisfy you. Especially me.”

His words had done more than sear me. They pierced me. They ripped me. They destroyed me. When he called me Brat, I thought it was endearing. Now, looking back, I realize - no, that’s just how little he thought of me.

As I came to the conclusion, I stopped dead in my tracks on the pavement.

I was done chasing Spencer.

His face had fallen from its anger, indicating he was apologetic, but I was beyond accepting his sorry excuses anymore. I couldn’t stand to look at him so I looked behind me to find our car at least a football field away. I guess in many ways, I’d gone the whole nine yards.

“This is what you wanted right?” I turned back to him momentarily. My voice scared me how calm it was because, inside, I was boiling with rage. “Well, here you go, Spence. Have all the fucking space you want.”

It was usually me watching his back while he walked away, and now, he was watching mine.

“(Y/n), wait!”

And for the briefest second, it actually felt good to be the first one to leave.

I was free.

_ _ _

To my dismay and relief, when I walked into work the next morning, he wasn’t there. I would’ve looked for him with more than a cursory glance except I was stuck on looking at something strange in the bullpen that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. But as I walked further in, a blaring siren went off in my head.

Spencer’s desk is completely empty.

I instantly sorted through my purse for my phone to reach Prentiss when I noticed something more.

I had been desperate to cling onto any notion that he still loved me, and there it was, just sitting on his desk. Proof that the man I loved was still in there somewhere.

The top three pictures from the carnival photo booth.

I laughed, as I always did, thinking about how much we had to exert ourselves to be positioned in a semi-adequate way. In the next wave, I felt profoundly empty. He had kept the pictures all these years, and now that I finally get to see them, he’s left me.

As I brought my hand to my face to clear the tears pooling at my lower lashes, I saw that my finger had an ink smear on the pad of it. There was nowhere else I could’ve obtained it except for if there was writing on the back of the photos.

What I read when I turned it over was as follows.

I want to be this guy for you again, (y/n). I just don’t know how.

I just don’t know if I can.

No matter how much I’ve changed, one thing’s still the same.

I love you.

I should’ve focused on the message, but all that I could focus on was that if I managed to smear the ink, that meant it was fresh, written just now.

He was still here.

I pocketed the photos and abandoned my purse, only carrying with me the phone that I forgot to use to dial Prentiss. After a moment’s indecision, I figured that taking the stairs would be faster than the elevator, and I bounded down the steps without hesitation.

“Spencer!” I yelled into the parking structure when I reached the ground floor. The sound of me bursting through the door caught the attention of Anderson, who was getting out of his car.

“I just saw him leave.” Anderson threw his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the exit. I knew, even in my state of mind, there was no feasible reality where I could reach him on foot. I had to call him.

I pleaded to myself for him to pick up with every ring of my phone.

“(Y/n),” He said like a statement instead of a question. Again, he’d anticipated I’d do this. He probably picked it up not even having to look at the caller ID but knowing it was me and no one else.

“I don’t need you to be the guy you were before, Spencer. I just need you to bend a little bit. I know we’re both stubborn people, but if we can just find a halfway point-”

“(Y/n), (y/n),” He was settling me and the sentences that were coming out of my mouth at 100 mph.

“I’ll bend if you bend.” I promised.

The static of the call filled my ears until his voice finally did.

“For everyone else, I bend ... for you, I break.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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minniepetals · 4 years

Text

nightlight

— summary: things have never been easy for you but you never expected it’d be them that would make things easier

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, fluff, mafia!au, gangsters!bts, rich!reader

— word count: 7.7k

— warnings: (triggering topics!) reader is sold to bangtan, dysfunctional family, allusions to an abusive father/husband, harassment, reader has a tough life growing up, guns, violence, jungkook calls her a whore (but apologizes), mentions of death, minor character death, insomniac!reader, nightmares, hurt and comfort

— rec music: finding hope - nightlight

Starlight star bright.

Fallen stars shooting in your dreams.

A wish, a hope. A prayer to escape from the world. From responsibilities and from the sacrifices that keeps you trapped in these chains of yours.

You keep yourself from feigning a smile, knowing it means nothing, knowing there is no reason to fake anything when the rest of the world is already doing the job.

Your father doesn't love you.

If he does, he wouldn't have thrown you out of his life when things got too hard, too difficult because he messed with the wrong man.

The same man whom you kneel in front of. The same man who takes your face in his hands, gentler than your father can ever, and gives you a blank look when you meet his gaze.

Call it sickening but his eyes look quite lovely.

Beautiful even.

Maybe that is why you don't flinch away when he holds a sinister smirk. Or perhaps you had already gotten used to your father's actions and now he's the only one that can ever make you feel afraid.

That's why you can't be afraid of the mafia boss.

Because even though he kills, he doesn't hurt you.

Maybe not yet, maybe you're still expecting it, but his hands never hangs in the air, hoping to swipe it right across your face.

"Why do you always stay awake?"

You turn around from the window, catching the gaze of one of his most trusted men.

Park Jimin leans against the door to your supposed room, the moonlight illuminating his pretty face. He has an arched brow, pillow lips pressed together, arms crossed against his chest.

"Is the room not to your pleasing?" He asks you. A soft yet hard tone. "Do you need a bigger room, princess?"

He mocks you. The daughter of a businessman who should have known the consequences to his actions and now his business is at stake, with his daughter in the hands of one of the darkest gangs.

He played with the wrong card and these men will never let you forget it.

Yet you remain calm as you shake your head lightly. Sincerely. "I am thankful for this room," you tell him.

"Then sleep."

As if it is easy.

As if it had always been easy.

"I...will try," you promise him, not brave to go up against him or make excuses. He is scary but not as scary as your father.

You wonder what your father is doing right now. Is he sleeping? Living a better life now that you are gone?

You wonder if your mother is alright.

But then again, she's escaped him so perhaps she is indeed living a life far better than when she lived with the two of you.

"Trying is not hard enough," Jimin says and your gaze falls to the floor.

"I'm sorry."

Jimin scoffs. "Sorry?" He repeats. "For what? Not sleeping?"

"Yes," you hum softly, "and for being here."

"Not really your choice now is it?" He steps away from the door, arms uncrossing. "You've got to be braver than this, princess." The name is lighter. "There's no need to apologize for something you had no control over."

"Still, I.." you watch your hands hold each other, gripping against one another tightly, "I'm sorry for what he's done."

"That should be his words, baby, not yours."

You hear the door click closed and his footsteps echoing away.

"You know how to treat wounds?"

Hoseok stares at the concentrated look on your face, lips pursed, eyes barely blinking one bit as your fingers work their ways stitching him up.

"I've often had to do this," you tell him and it's a bit of surprise. "My father..gets in trouble many times."

He raises a brow. "He's messed with other gangs?"

"I have no clue on the backgrounds. He doesn't tell me and I am in no position to ask."

"You're his daughter."

You don't reply, just keeping quiet.

But he sees you blink, sees the slight hesitation in your hands, how your eyes just stares blankly for a brief moment before returning to focus.

You try to hide it but he knows there's something going on that isn't right.

He shouldn't be surprised. Your father is the one who offered Namjoon to take you in the first place and they allowed it only because they believed you were someone worthy to your father.

But it looks like that isn't the likely story.

He's tricked them, so maybe this should be the moment when he lets the rest know to kick you out.

You're not a pawn anymore at this point.

But he doesn't understand why he doesn't feel like making a move.

The halls of the mansion is dark and empty even when it is daylight so you can never really come to understand how much time has passed until you return to your room, tired and drowsy and check the windows.

It is usually dark by the time you come back from your duties of cleaning and cleaning but even then you can't fall asleep.

Some days are harder than the rest but it's better.

Better than playing your father's puppet in the media as the world's perfect daughter.

"Why don't you ever complain?"

You look up from scrubbing the floors, holding your forearm against your forehead to wipe the sweat.

Yoongi stands in front of you, dirty shoes on so you know you'll have to redo the floors all over again. Yet surprisingly to him, you show no sign of distress.

"You seemed to be living the perfect life as a rich man's daughter," he scoffs, "not that he's rich anymore. So why aren't you saying anything?"

You remain quiet for a moment and usually he'll hurt the ones who hesitates to answer him right away but to your surprise, he does nothing but wait for you.

"It's fake," you whisper.

His brows crease.

"The perfect life," you answer the unspoken question. "It's not perfect, as you can see."

"Oh?" A brow arches and he sounds a little amused. "I thought he was just desperate."

"He is," you say, "desperate to throw me away."

"Well," Yoongi begins to turn away, his steps walking off, "this just got a little more interesting."

You return to your duties, choosing to ignore what he means because you're sure he will not speak his mind if you ask.

You're afraid to ask. .

The library is more difficult to clean because it is so big but you enjoy yourself there more than most rooms.

Mostly because you get to take a moment to read a few things. No one comes in anyways, which brings out the question as to why waste a whole room filled with books when everything is dusty, as if no one has ever touched a thing.

"A-hem."

Your breath hitches at the sound and you're quick to get back on your feet, book slammed closed and placed right back into its slot.

The boss raises his brow. "Mythology?"

"F-forgive me, sir." You lay your head low, too afraid to meet his disapproving eyes.

"You like mythology?" He asks an unexpected question and you know you have to answer.

"It...interests me."

"Does it?" You nod. "Which one?"

"...Hades and Persephone, sir."

Namjoon chuckles. It isn't anything like the dark chuckles he gives to the ones that have offended him and you wonder why.

"What about that story interests you?"

"Well," you say. It's a little easier to speak. "I just..find it quite lovely. Persephone would have been a forgotten goddess if Hades had not given her purpose. Their love created the seasons. The darkness fell in love with the flower."

"More like he fell for her and stole her away to his kingdom."

"But she eventually found love within the Underworld God as well," you point out. "He showed her kindness, showed her that he's capable of love as well, and that he isn't as heartless and cruel as everyone deems him to be."

He takes a moment to be silent, his eyes meeting yours, the same ones that refused to be afraid of him from the moment he had first taken a good look at you.

You were pure, still pure, and too innocent to fall into the hands of a father who couldn't show his own daughter some bit of love.

Namjoon finds it disgusting honestly, and figured that was the case when you were first offered to him. So after finding out it was indeed true from Yoongi, the fact only makes him more bitter.

"I'm sure the God only felt a change in him because of her."

Yet you shake your head gently at his words. "No one can change you, you do that yourself," you say. "The people around you are the ones that inspires you to change."

Namjoon doesn't understand how anyone can ever dare to think of hurting someone like you.

A few days later, you don't know how you got here but here you are, standing in a room filled with people in an ivory dress that falls to the floor.

You've been to parties before, you've been to plenty of parties, and it surprises you that you're let out after just two months of staying with the mafia gang.

Are they not afraid of you escaping?

Then again, perhaps it's because they are prepared for your escape in case you do try to leave.

They'll hunt your father down.

He may not love you as you still dreadfully love him, but you won't risk him at the chance of death.

You stand alone, not understanding what your position is because this is their mission. They're here to hunt someone down.

Distraction, Namjoon states, but you don't understand what that means.

Someone walks up to you, a gentleman, who offers you a drink that you decide to let him down on.

Another walks up to you and another.

You feel uncomfortable in the crowd that surrounds you, making lame jokes, trying too woo you.

"How about we ditch this party?"

Oh no, you certainly cannot do that.

"You know, you look quite familiar."

You don't want to be known and expose your identity, you can't do that when you're in the middle of a mission you're supposed to be a part of.

But with these men around, you can't do your job even though you don't know what exactly you're supposed to be doing.

Someone touches you and you flinch. "Please don't do that."

But he only laughs.

They laugh, shrugging it off as if it is not inappropriate.

But it is and you hate it.

Someone slides a hand along your waist and you flinch again before relaxing when you see who the man is.

"She already came with someone," Seokjin glares at them, ready to hurt the guy who dared to touch you.

You don't know why he makes you relaxed but amongst the crowd that eventually dies down around you, Seokjin feels the safest despite knowing what he does.

Maybe it's because you know him.

A little.

When he turns to you, you lay your head in shame. "I-I'm sorry."

He scoffs. "For what?"

You look up at him, confused. "Hm?"

It's a cute hum. "You did your job distracting them, good job." That was what they meant? You really didn't like it and you think he can understand that by the look on your face. "It's okay, you can leave now. Now go there, we've located our guy."

You look over at where he beckons.

A hallway.

"You're...not coming?" You ask. You know it isn't good to question them and it almost scares you but Seokjin doesn't grow angry.

"I'm shutting this party down," he smirks and you can understand what that means.

When he lets you go, you hesitate for a moment, watching him, and when you come to comprehend the fact that he will do nothing until you leave, you bid him goodbye and rush away.

The gunshot comes a minute later as you're running down the hall and you hear the distant screams.

It's hard but you keep running.

Heels hurt but it doesn't matter.

You have to run.

Find someone, one of them. Leave with them.

Yet you can't get far enough because someone grabs you by the arm, pulls you into a room, and forces themself to hold you against their chest, arm choking you and a gun pointed to your head.

Jungkook stands before you with a gun pointed directly at you. Or maybe not at you, maybe at the man. With a blank stare, showing no sign of weakness.

"Let me go or I'll kill her," the man behind you threatens.

You don't know why he thinks you're important to the man and you're sure even Jungkook thinks that.

Because the youngest only shrugs.

"Kill her," he says nonchalantly. "As if I care."

"Then why'd she come with you?"

"She's just a maid."

The man laughs darkly. "A little whore, huh? I hear you don't usually keep girls around for long. Is she that good?"

"You're sick for an old man."

He laughs again, louder, and it brings shivers down your spine. "I can be sicker." Something wet swipes along your cheek and you realize it's his tongue.

His dirty, disgusting tongue.

It breaks you.

Memories flooding back. Your mother, her tears. You, a little girl, and your father not caring one bit.

Jungkook meets your eyes when it tears up, trembling, but he keeps on the nonchalant facade. As if he doesn't care what the man will do to you, so your tears only falls because you are so, so afraid.

You can't do this.

You're still pure.

You can't...you can't.

"Quite sweet," the man hums and you whimper. "What a sweeter voice."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Quit your games and just face me already."

He chuckles. "Alright, fine." He releases you, pushes you down the floor where you yelp at the harsh sensation. "Don't worry sweetie, I'll clean you up later-"

But he doesn't get a chance to say anything further.

Once he's distracted, a bullet has already hit his shoulder with no hesitation.

His head snaps back to Jungkook who shoots again. And then again, and again.

You hold your hands over your ears, tears falling at the continuous gunshots that doesn't seem to ever stop and Jungkook's angry voice rings above it.

"After I'm done with you, I'll deal with your family just like you've done to mine. I'll kill them, each and every one of them. Not even your damn dog will be spared."

He can't hear him, you know he can't. There's no chance of survival left with the continuous gunshots that comes and comes, angry waves of hot tears escaping the maknae's eyes when you look up, and your heart shatters.

A broken little boy of a childhood that forced him into this life.

Seeking for revenge for what someone, that someone on the floor, has done to his very own family.

When the ammo is no longer, Jungkook throws the gun harshly at the wall where it hits and breaks, and runs to hold up the man by his collar, fist coming in contact with his face.

He's already dead but even then Jungkook is not satisfied.

How can he ever be satisfied?

His family is gone, never to return to his side.

A lost man. A lost child.

You get up from where you were thrown and take his arm to pull him away. "Jungkook-"

"Get away from me, you whore!"

You ignore his spiteful words and continue pulling at him. "Stop! He's dead!"

Yet Jungkook doesn't care.

"Jungkook!" A few more punches until you finally got him and push him away. "Jungkook," you call his name a little gentler, "it's okay."

He scoffs and pushes you away. "What does a whore understand?"

He goes to stand again but you force him back down, hands reaching out to lay against his shoulders. "It's okay, Jungkook. It's going to be okay," you repeat again. "You don't have to be afraid anymore."

"I'm not-"

"You're going to be alright." You hold him down, staring straight into his eyes. "I know you're scared," you say, "I know you're confused. But it's going to be alright. You're just a little boy who's gone through so much. You must have been hurting for so long, Jungkook, but you're okay now and I am so, so proud of you."

You hold his face, a soft gentle sensation against him, thumbs brushing away the hot tears that had fallen from his eyes.

You wipe away the blood on his face. Watching him gently, holding him gently.

And Jungkook doesn't understand but he tears up a little more. His chest tightens and he feels himself trembling.

What a lovely pair of hands.

So he surprises you by wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you in close, face resting against the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

You freeze for a second before relaxing and holding him still, hairs running along his fluffy hair, stroking it sweetly. "You're alright now. It's okay."

"Jungkook-!"

The rest of them comes rushing into the room only to find a dead body, blood spilled all around, with you and Jungkook holding onto each other as Jungkook cries.

Jungkook's crying.

Holding you.

He doesn't do that unless he absolutely cannot take it anymore.

He doesn't ever do that in front of anyone but them.

And now you.

You look up at their faces, some bits of blood managing to wipe across your face, with eyes of innocence, and Namjoon wonders why you aren't running away despite the blood in the room.

Despite having just witnessed Jungkook killing someone.

Taehyung lays in the pool when you walk in to clean a day later, body floating under the moonlight, eyes laying closed.

So when he hears a soft gasp and a bucket falling against the tiles, his lids open and meets your eyes from where you stand.

Heat rushes to your face and you're quick to turn around. "I-I am so sorry, sir! I didn't know you'd be here. I-I thought that, that I could clean up early since no one would be here."

What a cute little thing.

"Cleaning up at one in the morning?" He swims over slowly to you, arms laying on the edge of the pool, chin resting against his wet skin with an amused grin. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"I..I couldn't sleep, sir."

Sir.

He smirks, a hum leaving his lips. "Can't sleep, hm?" Jimin's told him he checks up on you from time to time and always find you awake at night. "Then come join me."

You turn around abruptly. "W-what? No, I can't do that."

"Why not?" Taehyung shrugs casually. "A good swim is a nice way to clear your head. And don't worry, I won't drown you or anything."

You aren't worried about that.

For some reason.

But you still don't think swimming in the middle of the night is a good idea whether he's your superior or not.

But Taehyung isn't a man who takes no as an answer.

He kicks himself out the pool and the next thing you know, he's wrapping his wet body around yours and dropping the both of you straight into the deep pool.

He watches you struggle from down there, a nonchalant expression resting on his face while your eyes are squeezed shut as you try and fail at getting air again.

So Taehyung swims on over and takes you in his arms where he swims back up and lets you breathe again.

You gasp for air while he holds you and lets you sit against his strong arms.

It takes a moment but you manage to come back to him eventually.

You don't rush to yell at him like he expects you to. You don't even make a scowl.

You just rest your hands against his shoulders, holding on tightly and panting and coughing because you don't know how to swim and the deep water scares you.

He's got to admit though, you look quite pretty all wet like this, resting against his hold, clothes completely drenched.

"Um..-"

He adjusts his hold and your face comes closer to him than the two of you expects.

Your face flushes some more, nose slightly touching, and your eyes gaze into one another under the bright moonlight from above.

"...hi," you squeak.

Taehyung laughs. "Hi."

"It's um...cold."

"Is it?" You hum. "I like swimming in the cold."

"Do you often swim at night?"

He nods. "It's nice after a day of...you know what. It's relaxing."

"Won't you get a cold?"

"I have thick skin, little one." You sneeze right then and he chuckles. "But it looks like you don't."

"I'm sorry," you say as he swims on over to the edge of the pool, "for this and for interrupting your time here."

The man shakes his head assuringly as he settles you on the tiles of the pool. "It's nice to get a visitor every once in a while. Can you stay a little longer?"

You blink. "You want me to?"

"I do," he hums. "Besides, you don't have extra clothes and the boss wouldn't want his floors wet."

You bite your lower lip. "Right."

"There's some towels over there and you can wear my clothes."

You look on over where there's a racket of the white towels and his clothes hanging. But is it right? "I..shouldn't."

"Why not?" He asks, stroking back calmly. "Take it or you'll catch a cold staying here all drenched."

It takes a few more moments of hesitation but you eventually give in and does as he's asked.

The night is a little less lonely as you sit beside the pool, watching as Taehyung floats around on his back, eyelids closed, with a soft tune humming from his throat.

"Hey, you okay?"

You look up at the sound of Jungkook's voice who walks into the main living room, a face of concern resting on his face in this late afternoon. He's gotten gentle towards you ever since that night.

"Um..why do you ask that?" You reply with your own question while spraying the coffee table and wiping it down.

"You look tired," he states. "Jimin says he doesn't see you sleeping a lot..or ever."

"I'm fine," you insist.

But he goes on anyways. "Is it the atmosphere? Or maybe you're one of those people who needs something in order to sleep? Taehyung can't sleep without hugging something or someone."

What a cute revelation.

"Do you need to hold something? But then again, you've got pillows." You don't know why he's acting so concerned. "Or maybe you need a physical someone to hold you?"

And if you do, what will he do?

"Or do you need a nightlight?"

"It's okay," you tell him. "I don't need anything."

"But you can't sleep."

"I'm used to it."

Jungkook frowns. "That's not good, Y/N. You need to sleep." He pauses for a brief moment. "Why can't you sleep?" You don't answer him right away so he calls your name sternly. "Y/N."

You may have gotten a little closer but you still work for him, and you and your father's life is indebted to him.

"I get scared."

It's an honest truth, something that scares you for even speaking off it.

He settles down before you, taking your hand from mindlessly wiping at the same spot for the past few minutes.

"Of what?" He asks, silently hoping for you to meet his gaze.

But you don't.

It only falls to your lap.

"The nightmares," you say.

He hums as if he understands and he probably does. A young boy walking into the mafia life. His nightmares may be a little different from yours but nightmares are all the same.

Leaving you afraid, scared, trembling, and weak.

Too weak and terrified to close your eyes again. Afraid for the darkness to consume you all over again.

Even the drowsiness is not strong enough to pull you back asleep.

"What are they of?" He carefully asks.

"It...varies." You stare at the hand that holds yours. "Sometimes it's of me, trapped and vulnerable. Sometimes it's of me dying. Sometimes it's of my father, or my mother."

You've never spoken of your mother except now.

He doesn't think he's ever heard anything about your mother before. Not from your father, not from Namjoon who holds records of your father.

Even the news that had once made your family relevant to the world has never said anything about your mother.

"She left us, thankfully, and I think that she's happier now so I don't really care that she ran away. But sometimes I dream back to the days when things were rougher. Rougher for her and I couldn't do anything to help. When she ran, I was about twelve then. She wanted me to go with her but back then I cared for my father's mentality and what he'd do if the both of us were gone. He wouldn't do well, he grew sick then. So I escaped last minute when we got on the train and made up excuses to my father not to hunt her down."

"Y/N..."

He squeezes your hand and holds his other one up to your face, brushing away the tears you hadn't realized had escaped.

"Jungkook," you hold the hand that touches your face, "I don't think my father is going to pay back what he owes."

"Yeah," he sighs, "we had a haunch since it's been months."

"Are you...angry?" You ask worriedly. "Is Namjoon angry?"

"There's a good and a bad," he tells you. "The bad thing is that there was a lot of money he borrowed from us. The good thing is," his gaze falls soft your way, his hand grazing your cheek in a gentle manner, "I don't care because he won't be taking you back any time soon."

"What if...what if I don't want him to take me back...ever?"

"Are you afraid of him?" You nod, lips quivering and honestly he knows that was a foolish question to ask. "Oh baby, come here." He takes your body, letting you settle against his lap, letting your head rest against his chest, and holds you there as you cry softly. "It's okay, you have us now, you have me." He strokes your cheek, the same one that filthy old baster had licked upon and though Jungkook feels angry for him and your father, he keeps himself calm for your sake.

"There's no need to be afraid anymore, baby." A gentle promise that makes your heart smile and ache all at the same time. "Even if he does ever pay us back, I won't let him near you, you got that? You don't have to worry anymore. I'm right here."

You go missing a few days later and it creates sets of panicking emotions.

"The security cameras didn't catch her anywhere outside," Seokjin claims. "She has to be somewhere in this house. Y/N can't just disappear like that."

"Look around," Namjoon orders and they all begin to split up.

He walks into the library minutes after searching a few other places with Jimin, running around, calling your name. The library is one of the largest rooms and Namjoon curses under his breath because he knows he should have checked here first.

The aisle that holds that mythology book you like so much.

And he does find you, sitting in the dark room, head against the book shelves.

He almost shouts aloud, afraid you had fainted or something, but then he hears a soft snore and he realizes that you've just fallen asleep.

"Hyung, have you-" Jimin pauses when he finds you as well and the two of them both lets out sighs of relief.

"Inform the others," he orders as he walks over to you, kneeling on the floor in front of you.

You're in a deep slumber but he's sure you're neck will be tense if you don't move in to a more comfortable position so he maneuvers you carefully from the support of the shelves to his own chest.

You stir a little and he hushes you softly.

"It's the first time I've seen her sleep," Jimin says in a low whisper as the two of them watch you.

You look so vulnerable.

Peaceful and lovely laying in Namjoon's arms.

But then your face distorts, brows creasing, lips pressed against one another. Your hands come to rest against Namjoon's shirt, clenching onto it tightly, soft whimpers falling from your lips.

There are two stray tears that falls, your head reaching to nuzzle into the comfort of the boss's neck.

"What happened?" Yoongi asks when he and the rest shows up not long after.

"Nightmare," Jimin guesses by what Jungkook has told him.

Namjoon strokes your cheeks gently, brushing away your tears, shushing you lightly. "Wake up, baby," he repeats a few times until you finally open your eyes, the nightmares too hard to bear. More whimpers leave your lips as you sob a little more.

So he holds you a little tighter. "It's okay, baby, I'm right here. I've got you. You're okay now, baby."

"Your father has gone off my radar."

"O..oh..."

You don't know what it means for you, what any of it would mean. But standing here in front of Namjoon's desk, it scares you a bit.

"I assume the man is trying to escape from the consequences of his actions, not that it's going to help him. If anything, this only makes things worse." He watches you steadily from where he sits, leaned back against his chair, one leg over the other. "Can you tell me where he might be?" He asks slowly. "A safe house? Headquarters? A vacation home he may escape to?"

"There's...a place," you say hesitantly. You aren't sure if your father will be happy about this but then again, is he ever happy when it comes to you? "He has a safe house on Jeju Island."

You tell him the address and he jots it down in a notepad.

"He's not going to give up that easily but neither will I. What's his weakness, Y/N? You must know that, right?"

He hopes and he doesn't hope that it will be you.

For one, if you are then it means he cares more about you than what he shows. But it'll mean he won't be able to get through to the man because he knows he will not use you as a pawn in this game. And two, if you aren't then he'll understand just how bad of a human this guy really is.

Worse than him, a mafia leader.

Because at least Namjoon has a heart.

"He cares a lot about his business," you tell him. "It'll hurt him if his business falls and he goes bankrupt."

Business over his own daughter.

What a piece of crap.

"What..." you hesitate again, afraid to look up since the very beginning when you've entered his office. "What will...you do..?"

"Will it hurt you to see him fall?" He asks you, observing you carefully.

There's a moment of silence as you think it over.

"If he falls...will I fall along with him?"

"No," he's quick to say. "Your father doesn't own you, Y/N, this is your life whether he likes it or not. When I'm done with him, you can choose whether to stay or leave. Either choice you make, I'll make sure you will never fall to the position I hope to break him at."

A choice at your own life.

How different has life finally changed for you.

You take another moment to think again. "Do you believe I should still care about him?"

"He doesn't deserve any of your love and care," he tells you honestly. "He deserves to rot away in hell."

Yet he is still your father.

A father who hurts, a father who doesn't care.

"It's your call, baby."

Your call.

No one has ever given you a choice at anything. First your father, and then the society he had place you in.

Serving as the perfect daughter. Smart, pretty, dependable, and listens well. You don't speak up for your own self even when others criticize you. You don't make friends because your father forbade it. You've never fallen in love, never felt love of any sorts.

And now Namjoon, mafia boss, leader to a ruthless, dark gang, one many fears, is asking for your call.

But you don't know what to do.

"I-I'm sorry, I...I don't know," you admit.

Yet Namjoon remains patient.

"Do you wish to live an independent life, Y/N?" He leans away from his seat, legs uncrossing, elbows resting upon his desk. "Without having to worry about your father or anyone else but yourself? Live your own life, care for your own self and just yourself."

It may sound better than living with your father but it sounds lonely.

So lonely.

So you shake your head. "I want to stay," you tell him and he raises a brow, a bit surprised.

"You don't hate it here?"

You shake your head again. "I like talking," you say, "I like having someone else to talk to. I don't wanna be alone anymore, it scares me."

"This world I live in should scare you more."

"But you're more human than my father can ever be and you care more than what my father can ever give. I-I'm sorry if I'm being selfish, I just-"

"You deserve to be selfish once in a while."

He stands from his chair, rolling it back to take slow steps your way. You look up, meeting his gaze, those intense, piercing gaze, and the world seems to fall silent.

All but the intense beating of your heart.

All but his slow footsteps making his way towards you.

It stops when he's just a few inches away, his height hovering over you and you feel oh so small.

"Human," he says lowly, "no one's ever called me that in a while. It sounds refreshing, like I actually have a heart."

"But you do," you say and point right at his chest. "It's right here."

Namjoon chuckles. "Yes," he hums, taking your small hand into his own, "it is." Your heart skips a beat. "I believe the members won't mind another one added to the family."

"And...you?"

A smirk dances on his lips. "Isn't it obvious? Of course I want you to stay." You let out the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding onto and he finds it amusing yet sad. "I'll take care of your father," he tells you, a hand reaching out to stroke your soft cheek, "just stay with the maknaes until we get back, alright?"

You nod at his words and he smiles, patting your head.

"Good girl."

Three days later at around 3 am, the door to your room creaks open and you turn from the window to find Hoseok standing in your doorway.

"He's dealt with," the man informs you.

Black suit on, a messy hairstyle yet he still manages to look good.

More than good.

You don't know what to say, how to deal with this. On one side, this is your fault, you've exposed his weakness and location. Your own father.

But on the other side, he's never treated you as human, never treated you as the daughter you deserved to feel like.

So maybe this is the right thing? Staying in a large mansion bigger than yours once was, living a life far better than your father who...who knows what's happened to him exactly.

"He isn't dead," Hoseok tells you, "but he probably feels that way at this point."

"Did he...mention me?"

A part of you still has hope that he has some humanity left in him, wondering whether he's asked about you, whether he's worried what will happen to you.

And Hoseok sees that without you voicing your thoughts so he keeps the story to himself.

You don't need to know how your father only belittled you some more, or blamed you, calling you plain useless, and not caring about what they'd do to you from now on.

Yoongi punched him a good few times for that.

You didn't deserve such words and the old man doesn't deserve you.

So Hoseok just remains silent as he walks through the door, watching you steadily from where you stand.

He stops where you are, brows furrowing at the sight he sees. "You're tired," he says softly with a hand going on to stroke your cheek.

You take that hand, hold it between yours. "You're cold, Hoseok."

Small hands caressing his, rubbing it to give it your own warmth.

"Sleep, sweetheart."

He presses a kiss against your forehead. A soft kiss.

So maybe it's what makes you a little braver to rest yourself against his chest, against his hold.

He's cold but you welcome it.

"Thank you, Hoseok."

"You didn't come back last night," Taehyung smirks at his hyung's way when he walks into the kitchen, hair ruffled and messy from just waking up.

Hoseok doesn't hide it. "How could I?" He says, shrugging. "I wanted to make sure the little one fell asleep."

Fresh morning light filters into the room after years of living in just the darkness. Coffee beans and scrambled eggs filling the room.

Yoongi takes a sip of his hot drink with eyes checking the clock that reads somewhere around nine. "She finally slept."

"So what'd you do to the old man?" Jungkook asks.

"Left him to rot away like the life he deserves," Seokjin says bitterly.

"And Y/N? The media isn't going to try and get into her life are they?"

"I've dealt with them last night," Namjoon tells him. "She can live a peaceful life now."

"Not entirely," Jimin points out with a light scoff. "Since when have our lives been peaceful?"

"Well," Yoongi shrugs, "at least there's some light now."

Footsteps are heard, coming from afar, nearing and nearing, and they almost consciously reach for their guns but the steps are two soft for anyone threatening.

Too soft.

And quick.

You run in, stopping at the sight of them with a soft gasp and Jimin stands from where he sits to instantly rush to your side.

Tears fall from your eyes. You're scared, the nightmares making you feel terrified.

"Hey, it's okay, baby," he holds your face, brushing the tears away, gives you kisses on both your eyelids as the rest joins to surround you with worry. "It's okay. We're right here, baby. You're alright now. You're okay."

"Jin...?"

He hums, asking you to go on when you walk into his office hesitantly, eyes never straying from the computers that surrounds his office, fingers typing away with codes of black and green letters rushing through the screen.

Something you can never come to ever decipher.

"You..you're good with...tracking people down...right?"

He hums again and you fall a little more hesitantly this time.

When he doesn't hear your voice again after a few long seconds, Seokjin stops typing and turns his chair around to face you. "What is it, little one?" He asks. "Do you need me to track someone down?"

His brows are a little furrowed, hoping you don't mean your father. The same one who unfortunately doesn't care much about you.

He doesn't understand why you had the heart to stay and not run away, but then again, perhaps there was no escape.

After all, where would you have gone? He just wishes you hadn't loved him as much.

But the words that comes out of your mouth is something entirely different from what he expects.

"I want you to find...my mother." He stares at you for a moment, a little taken back, and you swallow a lump in your throat. "I just need to know if she's alright," you tell him. "At least then," you pause, "hopefully...another nightmare may go away."

The nightmares, right.

"I just need to know."

He lets himself take a breather, arms opening up for you. "Come here, sweetie." He snakes his arms around your waist, allowing you to fall against his lap. A hand comes up to your hair, fingers playing along a few strands. "If I find her, what will you do? Will you go to find out?"

You're adorable with the slight pout of confusion on your face. He just wishes you smiled more often.

"...may I?"

He gifts you a soft smile, planting a kiss on your temple. "I'll come with you, alright?"

You nod, knowing it'll be better that way. "Thank you, Seokjin."

The street looks like a nice neighborhood. Suburban home miles away from Seoul.

Peaceful and friendly looking.

"There it is," you say softly under your breath as you stop walking, staring at the number of the house a few feet away.

It's a pretty home with a spacious yard, and suddenly you're feeling quite nervous. Small and timid.

How will she react? Will she even want to see you? You had deserted her on that train after all, left her crying and calling out for you from the window. Her shouts echoes in your dreams from time to time, moments you shall never forget.

You told her you'd head to the bathroom, only to escape, hoping she wouldn't catch you. So the instant her eyes met yours outside the train, all thoughts of watching her quietly leave were thrown out and you ran.

Ran and ran without giving her a chance to chase after you because the train had already began to depart.

You left her a letter in your backpack. She had asked you to pack, fully expecting a few clothes and snacks.

But the only thing in it was a photo of you and her with departing words in sloppy handwriting on the back, signed your name.

Would she forgive you for leaving without a proper goodbye?

Would she forgive you at all?

Seokjin takes your hand without a word, squeezing it for comfort as if he understands your thoughts and insecurities.

You look up at him, smiling, and his heart almost melts.

It's a little sad but you haven't smiled so much so he knows that this is good enough.

You hear voices, a cheery child laughing as she jumps and gasp as you grip onto Seokjin's hand tightly and rush to hide the both of you behind a fence.

There's a child with her parents, holding onto their hands as she skips happily.

Her father makes a joke and they laugh. Her and...

Your heart skips a beat, breath held back, tears forming at the brim of your eyes, throat clogged up, mouth feeling dry all of a sudden.

"Careful, sweetie," she tells the child just around seven years old. "You might fall if you aren't too careful."

"But you and Daddy will be there to catch me, mummy."

"Even so," she grins, picking her up in her arms, "I don't want you getting hurt, okay?"

"Ah, mom, you're always so worried about the slightest thing!"

Her father chuckles as he places a sweet kiss on his wife's temple. They share an understanding gaze, something the daughter will not come to comprehend just yet, and walk into the very home you had been seeking for.

Your mother is always worried about the slightest thing because of you, a young child who's often clumsy, a young child who should have never been exposed to the dysfunctional life of what was supposed to be a lovely household.

But she's escaped that.

Got a new husband, a loving husband, and another daughter.

Your half sister, your step father.

"Y/N?" He calls your name, one of the seven reasons why your life has gotten better, why you're saved.

So you turn to him, smiling sweetly even with tears falling away, and take his hand.

"Let's go home."

Home.

The sun has already set when the two of you return, lights by the entrance doorway flicking on when you and Seokjin walk up the doorsteps.

The doors open, revealing Yoongi who has on a grumpy frown.

"Where have you been? It's late and you never answered. Do you have any idea how-"

You wrap your arms around him, falling against his chest, and he freezes up, eyes blinking in confusion, looking at his hyung for an explanation.

Seokjin just smiles and though he remains perplexed, he allows your warmth to welcome him and pulls you in closer.

"You okay, baby?"

You nod against him. "Hungry."

He chuckles lightly.

2 am.

There's a knock at their door and Taehyung comes to open it.

You stand there, looking up at him looking oh so small and adorable. There's hesitation in your eyes, small body rocking slightly from side to side, unsure if this is the right place to come to.

"Nightmare, sweet one?" He asks you.

You shake your head, rubbing at your sleepy eyes. "Can't sleep, want my nightlight."

He tilts his head slightly to the side. "Nightlight?"

"You."

How cute.

It has him smiling no matter how hard he tries to hide it because he likes it. He likes the sound of that.

"Come in, then."

They're already settled in, just a lamp turned on by the bedside and you crawl in to the middle of the large bed.

"Sorry," you mumble quietly as you settle in between Jungkook and Namjoon who holds onto you securely.

Jungkook has his arms around you from the back, spooning you and pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder. "It's okay, baby, don't apologize."

"Sweet dreams." Another kiss pressed against your head, Namjoon pulling the covers up to your neck as your eyes slowly closes.

Your hear the light flickering off and you know you'll have a pleasant dream you haven't had in a long, long time.

"Thank you," you whisper into the quiet night, a confession just on the tip of your tongue but you know you don't have to say it aloud for them to understand.

And they don't have to say a word for you to know either.

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sanchoyo · 3 years

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danny phantom episode 4-7 Thoughts: (under a readmore because, these got kinda long!)

-the outfit danny had to buy for dash's party. CLASSIC 2000S i cannot stop laughing. And also showing up to the party and everyone is dressed like the trio is hilarious. and further proof that everyone looks good dressed goth.

-dash has a closet full of cute lil bear plushies?? LOVE that. adorable. also his response to danny trashing his room fighting a ghost was SO valid if somone BROKE MY BED IN HALF ID BE PISSED TOO.

-technus being like 'oh smart, u should be a tutor!' then later being like 'forget tutor, be a teacher!' :) supportive king <3 I also really like his upgraded suit/design. AND SPOCK CAMEO??? HELLO??

-the music in this show is super. its so funky. I looked it up and the guy who does it, guy moon (awesome name) also did music for other cartoons like fairly odd parents, barnyard, chalkzone, billy & mandy, AND some actual movies like FIGHT CLUB??? the whiplash I got from reading that)

-sam being rich explains a lot about her, actually.

-I know the moral of the episode was supposed to be 'dont ditch your friends for popular people/spend a lot of money on clothes that arent You to Fit In'. but tbh. it wouldve been easy for danny to have been like 'well, okay, ill come but only if my friends can!' but I get. that hes 14. so. not a lot to say there.

-BOX GHOST IS BACK!!!!! also, danny sitting up and wearing the dress/wig/makeup. umm thats how I dress everyday LMFAO. unironically me. (hate the jokes that boil down to 'haha funney man in dress' tho. but this is a look)

-jazz being protective of her brother once again being like NOOO YOU GUYS BETTER NOT STAKE OUT HIS (actually haunted) LOCKER!! shes aware of how people perceive him and she wants to help :( which is also probably why she told dash to invite him to that party even tho she had no interest in going!! she wants to help him out :(

-gotta say im with tucker on the whole 'should danny use his powers to get back at bullies' debate. 100% yes. let him teach kids to fight back. making dash throw his food at paulina out of the blue? no. but when hes actually about to pick on someone? yeah! for self defense? YEAH! if dash and his friends just threw food at him, I think rather than. idk doing sneaky shit with frogs he couldve just threw it back and not pulled punches if they tried to fight. I kNOOWWW its a kids show so they are like 'if u fight back ur just as bad!! violence bad!!' but. theyre HIS POWERS. WHO CARES.

-like my only gripe is that dash really isnt LEARNING ANYTHING WHEN DANNY GETS BACK AT HIM IN THE MOST PETTY INDIRECT WAYS. whatever they had to add a bully psa episode I guess. I hate it and I hate the way cartoons usually handle it because these methods simply Do Not Work. 'aND YouRE USinG YOur poWErs FOR EVill???!' this is Not Evil. even when poindexter takes dannys body, theyre only being 'nice' bc hes stealing soda for them!! bitches deserve what they get (nothing too brutal bc theyre high schoolers but damn, if they pick on danny he doesnt need to be the 'bigger person' he needs to start biting people)

-SAM TRYING TO SMUGGLE FROGS OUT OF THE BIO LAB?? girl in middle school when we had to dissect frogs we could opt out, also, they came to us already dead and preserved...

-sidney's lingo and the fact hes in black and white is sending me. also, danny is a ghost celebrity apparently for being a halfa?? ok. thats interesting to know

-the DENTIST BEING EXCITED ABOUT THE COTTON CANDY FLOOD IS THE FUNNIEST THING SO FAR.

-I LOOOVE the trope of 'wishes gone wrong'. not crazy about the stereotypical genie, or the use of the dreamcatcher looking design. (also, I KNOW theyre scientists but the way theyre handling a cold...are the fentons ANTIVAX)

-the genie. she. whitewished paulina. JKASDFHKJ. (the ghost literally just being hello kitty???? im dying) 'why do i feel that im special and wonderful? because I AM! <3' paulina ilu self worth queen. felt bad for her also getting possessed by (2) boys later who were arguing INSIDE HER. WTF.

-imagine being the guy trapped in his now flying car. he thought danny and tucker were HALUCINATIONS. imagine being trapped in a flying car with two, what you think are imaginary arguing 14 year olds convinced ur gonna die. i WOULD say this dude is gonna need so much therapy, but he seemed totally fine and excited when they landed (I would be happy too if a chicken was on my head. chickens rule) stoner rights

-sam's bat slippers??? iconic. SO cute.

-I think desiree's backstory is so :( do all ghosts have messed up sad backstories?? poindexter's was sad too...cannot imagine box ghost has any kind of fucked up backstory. but what if. his mom got pushed off cliffs by boxes...........a la cruella... anyway her 'no man may lay a hand on me' iconic. ilu

-I know danny has no concept of how much bras cost but my god dont attack tucker with some girls bra. those are so expensive.

-its really. well its not a GOOD THING he went into the portal and got fucked up, but its good danny was the one to do it rather than sam or tucker. because even tho he was being influenced by desiree and kept getting more malicious and it prob wasnt 100% him...he sucked as a ghost like most the people he 'pranked' were innocent ppl just Chillin and he didnt want to help anyone at all. I think danny is the most responsible out of them but also, hes 14 and shouldnt HAVE to feel obligated to fight every ghost. hes a good kid and wants to, but I also feel like he feels like...responsible for the portal turning on?? because his parents did give it up,, but it was an accident and not his fault (if anything, why was the on switch on the inside. why was it that easy. why was there no safety measures. that seems like smth OSHA needs to hear about). like thats my son. hes a good boy. and hes never done anything wrong in his life, ever. if anyone hurts him im killing everyone in this room and then myself. etc.

-danny's curfew is 10PM????? DUDE. when I was 14...shit I couldn't be out that late, I had to be back at like, 8 at the latest, and my parents had to know exactly where and who I was going with, AND i had to call/text them regularly...is this a case of my parents being overbearing, or the fentons sucking??? the only time i could EVER be out that late was if I was at an overnight sleepover or smth...

-the vultures have lil fezes. why do they have fezes...theyre so fuckin funny 'ask him for directions' 'I KNOW WHERE IM GOING' these ghost vultures are my new grandpas. pick them up, put them in the adopt box.

-'I wonder why those guys were trying to waste dad!' THEYRE GHOSTS. YOUR DAD HUNTS GHOSTS. why is that not a conclusion you'd immediately jump to??

-*jazz voice, clearly disgusted* WISCONSIN???

-mrs fenton with the lab coat and leg warmers and PERM. YESSS STYLISH.

-was going to say 'ew billionaire' @vlad but. super valid he used his powers to assumedly steal and cheat to get that money, thats how all billionaires do it! but ew hes a SIMP. and spending your billions on FOOTBALL STUFF?? you are Not Valid overall. I DO respect the fact you have a castle instead of a mansion. in wisconsin. if youre going to be stupidly rich might as well go all out, torches on the wall and all. I DO like his ghost form's little kitty ears. catman. and his cape! every design can benefit from a cape. and how different his forms look, like danny looks the EXACT SAME IN BOTH FORMS ASIDE FROM COLOR CHANGES. vlad's is like,, I could believe they were different people!! also I love the drama. but dude you are fighting a 14 year old. lame. also he was like, telling danny he wanted his mom and him and like, wanted him to renounce his dad?? WHAT ABOUT JAZZ?? bitch. those r MY kids and they are both important and special. I do agree they need better parents but thats not u sir <3

-I thought vlad's 'little badger' nickname for danny came from the football mascot of the packers, but google says they have NO MASCOT?? so now I'm like?? is it because his hair is sometimes black and sometimes white?? I hate to give him props but thats a PERFECT NICKNAME. theyre also tiny and vicious!

-why did I get so excited that Skulker is back!! its been like. 2-3 eps LMAO. AND THE DAIRY KING. ICONIC I LOVE HIM. hes the nicest guy ever :) more nice ghosts please. danny cannot be fighting alone everytime with no ghost buds like every ghost being hostile sucks :(

-mr. fenton knew vlad was controlling him, but a few episodes ago he had no clue danny was doing the same thing...is it something about how malicious the ghost is?? he just seemed to think his memory had gaps the first time, this time he was INSTANTLY LIKE 'GHOST'. then again in this ep when danny did it again he was just slightly confused but not immediately freaking out like he did with vlad possessing him!!

-'my parents will accept ME NO MATTER WHAT' so. so why haven't you come out to them yet, danny?? if you really think that?? if theres no harm, and you're sure??? if vlad is a real problem, wouldnt that make dealing with him easier, to expose him???? SO WHY HAVENT YOU COME OUT YET?? COULD IT BE,, MAYBE YOU HAVE DOUBTS ABOUT WHETHER YOUR PARENTS ACTUALLY WILL ACCEPT YOU??? 🤔 ... 🏳‍🌈 I get why people say He Is Trans. I totally totally get u danny.

-sorta unrelated, but it just occurred to me in one of these eps they go to casper HIGH not casper middle school??? theyre 14?? dont highschools usually do ages 15-18? (I didnt go to hs so I might be wrong, if I am ignore this...) freshmen are usually 14-15, could just be a case of them not turning 15 yet but they will sometime in the school year (I say they because tucker said he was 14 too)? I know the show has 3 seasons, so by the end of it will they be older? thatd be neat but usually cartoon characters stay the same age...I love shows where you can see the characters age and grow up, though...three seasons seems like a long time to spend on like, 1 year...

#sanchoyorambles #danny phantom #me on the first post:#its not a liveblog!#me this time: it kinda is. but not in the same format as my tmm one #i like doing one post for a handful of eps bc it saves time #and crowds my blog less #and also i just like talking abt what im watching lol #dp thoughts

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justjessame · 3 years

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The Deal Chapter 64

The aftermath of Jocelyn’s visit to Alexandria changed our world in far more reaching ways than just the loss of my baby and Daryl leaving. We locked down. We became more insular. We stopped visiting other communities. Hilltop and the Kingdom were almost mythical it seemed. The Sanctuary, it went under, quickly. Carol’s leadership couldn’t bandage the lack of land to grow things, the lack of unity that Negan’s power had ensured, and the deaths of his people at the hands of their victims was one final straw.

Former Saviors, the ones that assimilated and weren’t killed for their past indiscretions found homes in the remaining communities. Michonne, calling her ‘Mom’ was as natural to me it seemed as inhaling, became more careful. She wanted RJ, Judith, and the other children to be safe. As safe as she could make Alexandria with the dangers lurking just outside our walls. And so, she pushed aside her one time dream of a unified group. Her urge to create a charter, a treaty between our people dropped. Her maternal instincts coupled with her warrior nature won out.

Judith and I still visited Negan. He was given more light, the window that had been boarded opened. He got a cot. He was allowed books. His prison became more livable, even if it was still captivity. Without Daryl to occupy part of my time, without the need to take care of my sister and my new brother, I spent more time with him.

He and Judith continued to play. First it was ball, then as she grew and became more inquisitive, he and I would take turns telling her stories. I spent the visits that I made to him alone, with my side pressed against the bars of his cell, feeling his heat mirrored against his side. I was on the free side of the cage, yet I was just as imprisoned as he was. We talked, and talked. I made sure he never felt that same darkness that forced him to ask Maggie for death and he made me realize that letting go of my baby girl might be simpler if she had a name.

“Surely you and Daryl had ideas.” He offered, our fingers linked together through the bars. “Give her a name, sweetheart.”

I sighed, and let my fingers trace the length of his. It sounded simple. It could be. But I couldn’t, not alone. “I’ll have to go to him,” it was a breath, but Negan heard me. “She was his baby too.”

He didn’t flinch. Or sigh. Or make any sign that it irritated him that I’d be leaving Alexandria to go to Daryl to have this conversation. It had been weeks since I’d seen him. I knew where he was, everyone who should know did. He was back at the site. Back where Dad had disappeared. Back to his search, which he felt was more important, more conductive to his pain than being with me.

“Then go,” he offered, but his hand didn’t leave mine. “But be safe, be smart, and come the fuck back to me, princess.”

I left a day later. I had to prepare. Daryl hunted, but God knew what he’d consider food at this point. Supplies, a horse, and I had to take Judith aside and explain. I wouldn’t leave her without a goodbye. Without assurances that I would make it back to her. Without telling her I loved her and she needed to be good for Mom. And so, hugging Mom, giving RJ a kiss on his soft and sweet smelling forehead, and one more hug and kiss to Judith, I was off.

My trip was uneventful. Few walkers approached, and those that did were easily dispatched. Knives and arrows, how quickly we learned to adapt. I heard the river before I saw it. I saw his early warning system before I saw him. And then I was at his camp, a dog approaching me with curiosity.

“DOG!” His voice sounded harsh from disuse. And I realized he probably only spoke to the dog, aptly named, and sparingly. The brown haired animal rushed back to Daryl’s side and I looked up at the man I once would have happily died for. Would I still? “Jessi.” He bobbed his head and gestured toward his makeshift seating arrangement around his campfire.

I sat and he joined me, biting his lip. “You look-” dirty, tired, miserable all came to mind. “Good.” It came out as lame as I felt. Why was I here? Right. “I-”

“Still as beautiful as the day I first saw ya.” I blinked back the pain in my chest and swallowed down the lump in my throat. “Missed ya.”

I nodded absently. Then why’d you leave? Why was camping by the damn river better than laying next to me and working through our grief together? I said none of it. Why bother? “I think we should name her.” It came out in a rush. Not my intention, but it did. “I can’t-WE can’t let her go if she doesn’t have a name.” My eyes were on the rushing water and I nearly missed Dog coming closer to me. And then his soft head was on my knee and my fingers slid through his rough fur. Soothing, just like I’d read during my short stint in college. Petting animals helped calm anxiety. “She deserves that much.”

“Jessi-” I shook my head. This wasn’t about us. This was only about HER. “You could have-”

“She was OURS,” I met his eyes finally, feeling all my pain and anger coming up. “I shouldn’t HAVE to do it alone.” I stood up, scaring Dog a bit, forcing him away from me. Walking to the bank of the river I watched the rush of the current, wishing like hell that my dad was here. “You can search for Dad, you can hide in a tent and adopt a dog, but you can’t name our baby.” I gave a snort of false humor. “Hard shit, sign up Daryl Dixon, the more simple it sounds he likes to sit that shit out.”

“You coulda died.” He was closer than I expected and I cursed his ninja-like feet. “You coulda died. We coulda lost Judith. And I couldn’t do shit to stop either fucking thing.”

“Our baby did die,” I was sure he was close enough to hear me over the water. “She’s gone, and we don’t get another chance, and she’s laying under the dirt. She’s alone and she doesn’t even have a fucking name.”

I didn’t fight him when he wrapped his arms around me from behind. I didn’t pull away when his chin propped on top of my head. I let my tears, the ones I’d held back for the most part after RJ was born, fall. Our little girl deserved so much fucking more. Than this. Than us.

“I’m sorry.” It fluttered my hair, his apology. “I have fucked up at every fucking turn with ya, Jessi Grimes.” I shrugged. Cannot unspill milk or unbreak eggs. “I couldn’t stay and see how-”

“Broken I was?” Sighing, I could feel Dog’s body sit next to my legs. “I’m fine. It’s fine.” It wasn’t, not really, but this is me. I reassure. I let go. “Let’s name her, and I’ll go home, and you can keep searching.” For a pipe dream. For a man who is as gone as our little girl.

I was home before dark. Mom seemed shocked. Judith was extremely happy. And Negan was relieved.

“You look tired, princess.” He was seated on his cot, but stood as I walked down the stairs. I pushed the chair closer to his cell and practically collapsed into it.

“Don’t get up,” I waved him off from standing, I was tired enough for the both of us. “I am tired.” I smiled at him. “And I probably smell like wet dog.” He chuckled and stayed seated. “I didn’t expect to go and be back so soon. Not that I’m not grateful.”

“Daryl come back with you?” His worry, no doubt. I shook his head. “Damn fool.” My smile grew.

“You’re biased.” I sat forward and touched the bars in front of me. “We named her.” I heard the springs of the cot squeak with his body shifting. “I had to stop by one of our more artistic people’s places, I want her grave marked properly.”

“What did you pick?” My eyes met his and I could see true interest. “What’s your little girl’s name?”

“Wren Mae Grimes-Dixon.” I smiled, thinking of how tiny she was and how the wren was a delicate bird. I brushed away an errant tear. “The man who I stopped to see, he’s making her a cross engraved with her name and-”

“A wren?” I nodded. “It’s a beautiful name, sweetheart. She would have been-”

“Would have.” I clutched at the bars in front of me. “WOULD HAVE.” I glared. It wasn’t fair. Why did my baby have to pay the ultimate price? Why did I have to KEEP paying? “I can’t decide if I’m pissed that you let me live to feel this. Or if I’m pissed that she didn’t turn inside me and take me with her.”

“Jessi,” I could hear his pain and fear. The pain of my loss and grief coupled with the fear of me slipping away again.

“It comes in waves.” I brushed more burning tears away. “I don’t want to die, but fuck if it doesn’t suck to live.” Closing my eyes against the feelings, the pain and anger. “I got to hold her.” I hadn’t told him. I didn’t want to relive the pain. “She was perfect. So fucking perfect, even when they put the needle through her tiny fucking skull ‘just in case’.” I felt the sob come and didn’t stop it. “She should be here.” It hurt. The steady beat of my own heart like a traitor. “She should have cried. She should have been demanding for my milk. Dirty diapers should be my reality, MY DAUGHTER’S dirty diapers.” Instead, I have my brother’s. Again. “I’m sorry,” fuck why now? I’d felt so much better on the way home. So good when I commissioned her grave marker. And now? Now I felt it all like it was new. “I don’t know-”

“Because you bottle it up, Jessi.” He was in front of me, his fingers touching mine. “You push it away, you move forward. That’s Jessica Grimes.” I looked up at him and saw his smile. “Stop being so fucking brave, princess. Let it out.” The tears were leaving burning paths down my cheeks. “Stay. Stay with me here, go up, ask them to lock you inside with me, but don’t fucking go back to Michonne and Judith tonight. Give yourself this ONE FUCKING NIGHT to be taken care of.” I closed my eyes. “It’s not a request, princess, it’s a command. Go up to whatever moron is lurking upstairs, tell them to open the damn door of this fucking cage and lock you in.” I didn’t move. “Let me hold you tonight, Jessi. Let me hold you while you fucking grieve finally. Please?”

It was easier than I expected, getting locked in the cell with Negan. I left my weapons easily with the guard, and then I was cradled in his arms, laying on top of him on his cot as he whispered comfort to me while I cried.

#The Walking Dead #negan x ofc #miscarriage #grief/mourning #daryl dixon x ofc #OriginalGrimesDaughter #rick grimes daughter

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shillanseva · 4 years

Note

(prompt) triple treble with beca having a stutter/selective mutism and their way with communication

@uncomfortable-and-queer I have no idea if this is at all what you had in mind and I definitely when overboard, but here it is. I had to do a little research to make sure I understood what selective mutism entailed but I think I got it so I hope you like this. I really enjoyed writing it. (It hasn’t been edited yet, so there are probably mistakes.)

All she wanted was for him to leave. He stood at her open door expectantly, waiting for her to say something, anything, but nothing would come.

She hadn’t said a word to him since she was eleven, and he’d left her mother alone, broken, and wondering why she wasn’t good enough. Even before then, she’d said little more than a word or two here and there.

Her mother was the only person who could get a real conversation out of Beca since the time she could talk. And when they did talk, it was about everything and nothing all at the same time. Her mother was her best friend.

When she died, Beca lost the one person left in the world that she was comfortable enough to talk to. It had been breast cancer, which normally, is very curable, but they’d caught it too late. And her health went downhill fast. There was little they could, but make the most of the time they had left together. Her mother’s dying words to Beca were a wish that she would live a life full of love and friendship, a wish Beca wasn’t entirely sure was possible.

She never had the ability to really talk to other people. It just came with the territory. Selective muteness wasn’t as selective as the name implied. Her subconscious made the decisions on who she could or couldn’t talk to. The anxiety was a bitch that way. If Beca wasn’t comfortable, she couldn’t talk. And then when she couldn’t talk, she got more anxious because no one could understand her making her speech block grow. It was a vicious cycle. One she’d been working to jump out of for as long as she can remember.

Her therapist had told her that the way to get past selective muteness as an adult was to eliminate as much anxiety and stress from a scenario as possible and eventually the words would flow. Beca got the point, but as with most things, it was easier said than done. So, now she was standing there in her new dorm room on her first day at college, staring at her father who was waiting for her to say something to him, and she just couldn’t.

She watched him cautiously as thoughts flitted through his mind as he decided what to do. Eventually, he seemed to realize that Beca just wasn’t going to say anything to him—not that he wasn’t used to it. It had been almost eight full years since he heard her voice.

“Alright Beca,” he finally sighed. “I guess I’ll be heading out. Shoot me a text if you need anything.”

Beca nodded her head and waved her hand slightly. Her dad hesitated for a moment before he spoke again. “Really, if you need anything, please reach out. You don’t have to be alone here Beca.”

Beca sighed and nodded again. She knew her dad meant well. Now that she was grown, she couldn’t exactly blame him for not making the relationship with her mother work. They fought constantly. That’s not what a relationship should be—at least she assumed it shouldn’t be. She’d never had a functioning relationship to look up to while she grew up.

Her dad left the room without another word, and Beca turned back to the few bags she’d tossed on the floor when she had arrived on campus. The first thing she pulled out was her mixing equipment. It was already set up with her lap top on her desk in the corner of the room. All that was really left was some clothes and small items. She didn’t have a lot.

Her roommate had already been there and left the minute Beca entered the room without so much as a hello, which was fine with Beca because less talking meant Beca was less likely to come off as a freak for not talking. She found that being silent tended to unnerve people. She had at least developed the ability to push body language through the block so as long as no one tried to really talk to her, she would be fine.

Beca hummed softly to herself as she pulled her clothes from a torn-up, frayed duffle bag on her bunk. Mostly plaid button-downs in various dark shades, and a few pairs of jeans made up her wardrobe. Nothing fancy. Beca just wasn’t a fancy person because a; dresses and dress clothes just fucking sucked, and b; the only fancy occasions she’d gone to (forced) were family events which were basically as rare as blizzards in Atlanta, Georgia. Not that she cared, family wasn’t really a thing to her without her mother.

It only took another fifteen minutes for Beca to put the finishing touches on her unpacking. She thought about sitting down to start working on some of her unfinished projects, but decided against it when she felt her stomach rumble violently. She probably should figure out where the dining hall was. No way was she going to live off ramen.

Beca had to (begrudgingly) admit that Barden’s campus was beautiful. She grew up in the Pacific Northwest, not too far from Seattle, and wasn’t used to the amount of sunlight that came from living in the South. It was hot. Way too hot for the skinny jeans she wore, but she’d deal. She didn’t even own a pair of shorts.

According to the campus map she’d downloaded onto her phone (to avoiding looking like a lost freshman,) the dining hall was only supposed to be on the other side of the quad. The quad that was currently busting at the seams with activity fair booths and over-eager student org types. She shook her head knowing she didn’t have much of a choice, she might as well face it head on. It’s not like she actually had to pay attention to anyone. She’d just keep her head down and move quickly.

Or so was the plan—until a hand thrust a flyer in front of her face and Beca nearly fell backwards from the suddenness of it. She looked up to find the brightest pair of blue eyes she had ever seen in her life. If Beca hadn’t been so captivated by them, she probably would have thought they were kind of ridiculous, cause seriously who has eyes that blue? But, as it was, Beca was captivated. It took a second to shake herself out of her stupor in order to take in the rest of the woman who had stopped her. Her red hair was like something straight out of a magazine, falling in generous waves and framing her face.

“Would you like to join our music group?” the redhead said quickly with a voice that almost made Beca shiver with its sweetness. Her eyebrows rose as she looked down to exam the flyer in front of her. The Barden Bellas, huh?

“We’re an all women acapella group. We sing covers of songs, but do it without any instruments. It all comes from our mouths!” Beca smiles at the oversell the woman gives her. She was cute, in a crazy girl-next-door, had-too-much-sugar kind of way, but Beca had no desire to join any on-campus groups. She was only here for a year to appease her father before she went off to LA to try and make it in the music industry. If Daft Punk could make it without speaking more than a dozen words than so can she. “There are four groups on campus—the Bellas, that’s us. We’re the tits. The BU Harmonics, the High Notes, and the Treblemakers.”

The woman’s smile faltered as she looked in their direction. The group in question was standing towards the edge of the quad aggressively singing towards people as they passed by.

“I’m Chloe, by the way. I am one of the co-captains and behind me is Aubrey,” she said returning her dazzling attention to Beca. Beca glanced behind Chloe to see a blonde woman with what seemed to be a perpetual frown on her face. “Are you interested in auditioning?”

Beca quirked a smile at Chloe and laughed softly, not even realizing it. Honestly, she kind of felt bad. Chloe was friendly enough and it felt kind of like kicking a puppy to say no to her, but come on? Acapella? It was pretty lame. Beca feel another pair of eyes on her as she shook her at Chloe and tried to hand back the flier.

“Aca-scuse me?” the other woman, Aubrey, said approaching the pair from behind Chloe. She’d seen Beca laugh and shake her head at Chloe and her protective instincts flared against the tiny brunette.

“What’s wrong with synchronized lady dancing to a Mariah Carey chart topper?” Her voice was incredulous as if Beca had just insulted her god, which based on that little comment was probably Beyonce. Beca just smirked at the older woman and her eyebrows raised in silent amusement.

Sensing a building tension between the two, Chloe stepped lightly in front of Aubrey and spoke again. “We sing all over the world and compete in national championships.”

So? Beca made a face which bordered the lines of pity and amusement.

“We played the Cobb Energy Performing Arts Center you bitch,” Aubrey said. The silence of the other woman was irritating her. How could this girl rile her up without even a word? Chloe had reached out and grabbed her hand gently whispering a soft “settle” to the blonde. Beca’s eyes raised slightly at the strangely intimate exchange but didn’t have time to read too much into it before Chloe was speaking to her again.

“What Aubrey means to say is that we’re a close-knit, talented group of ladies whose dream is to return to the national finals at Lincoln Center this year.” Beca could have sworn Chloe’s eyes got bigger as she spoke, like fucking puppy-dog eyes, they were so huge. “Help us turn our dreams into a reality?”

Beca really did feel like she was kicking a puppy now. She smiled sadly at the redhead and avoided Aubrey’s eyes as she shook her head. She set the flier onto their table as she walked away, hoping to find a part-time job in the throng of tables.

Chloe was following Beca’s path curiously as she weaved through the crowds of people. “She didn’t say one word to us, did she?” Chloe suddenly realized and turned to look at Aubrey. Aubrey shook her head.

“No, she didn’t.”

“Weird,” Chloe said softly to herself.

“She’s probably one of those freak loner types,” Aubrey said with a scowl. “Definitely not Bella material.”

“She was cute though,” Chloe said gauging her girlfriend’s reaction as she said the words. “In an alternative kind of way.”

“Cute.” Aubrey scoffed. “With all those ear monstrosities, it’s hard to believe she doesn’t have a prison tattoo to go with them.”

“Aubrey,” Chloe said laughing gently.

***

Beca managed to find a radio station booth later that day and signed up for an internship. The details were pretty vague, but she was given a time and place to show up the next day and she was pretty excited. Excited enough that she completely forgot why she left her dorm room in the first place. It wasn’t until an hour after she got back to her room that she remembered she still needed to eat.

Her first day of classes was also the next day. She was feeling pretty conflicted about them. Since she was only planning on being at Barden for a year, she had only signed up for fluff classes—the 101s. None of them interested her though so she debated if she would even go to them. The only thing professors did on the first day of class was hand out a syllabus and let you leave, and most of her syllabi were posted online anyway.

Eventually she decided, fuck it, and went to class anyway. She would have rather stuck around her dorm and messed around with some of her mixes, but her roommate had been glaring proverbial daggers at her for two hours by the time she finally left, and it felt like a breath of fresh air to get away from Kimmy Jin. Beca didn’t think she would ever get to the point where she could say anything to her roommate anyway so she was content to let Kimmy Jin hate her.

By mid-afternoon, Beca was nearly jumping out of her skin at her proximity to other people. She could handle herself fairly well in smaller groups or large groups for short periods of times, but 101s were huge lecture hall classes spanning an hour or more. And she had multiple of them in one day. She couldn’t wait to get back her dorm so she could escape for a while.

Her excitement for the radio job had waned some in the exhaustion that came with her anxiety. It was still there, don’t misunderstand, but she knew she’d have to deal with people when she got there, and that is exactly what she didn’t want right now. Like yeah, she got that it was a part of the job, but there was only so much she could take in a day.

It hadn’t turned out as bad as she thought it would though. She was able to get across to Luke that she was nonverbal, and he seemed totally down with that—something about it making her less annoying than the other undergrads trying to get time in the booth. And Beca didn’t think the other new guy even noticed or even stopped talking from the minute he got there to the minute he left. He seemed nice enough, and the fact that he could carry on a conversation by himself without needing Beca’s response was definitely a bonus.

Life carried on like that for another week or so. Beca would get up in the morning and skip class until about four in the afternoon when she’d go in for her shift at the station. When she wasn’t at the station, her eyes were glued to her computer screen arranging, mixing, and sometimes even composing new music. She was fine with the routine. It got her through the day with minimal exposure to other people. That is until the second week of class when her father texted her at eight in the morning asking why wasn’t in her philosophy 101 class.

Beca knew she needed to answer. If she didn’t then he was just going to show up at her dorm room again, and then who knows how long it would be before she got him to leave.

How did you even know? Beca shot off the text and started gathering her stuff to go shower.

You don’t need to know. Why aren’t you there?

She snorts and sends back a response knowing it’ll likely piss him off. I’m posing an important philosophical question: If I don’t actually go to class, will that class still suck?

When he didn’t respond for another five minutes, Beca actually started to get worried that he was coming to her dorm—that is, until a massive paragraph popped up on her screen.

Beca.. I know you’re mad at me and I get it. But you need to get an education. The music industry isn’t so forgiving and someday you might need a backup. You’re missing out on so many experiences by staying in your dorm room. It’s supposed to prepare you for real life. And you’re supposed to create memories here. Do you even have any friends yet?

Okay, so that one hurt a little bit. She knew she was a loner, but he couldn’t exactly blame her. Who wants to be friends with the weird mute kid who wears too much eye liner? She’d had this fight with him at least a dozen times before she got to Barden. All she wanted to do was go to LA, and she didn’t get why he couldn’t accept that. Another message popped up on her screen:

Just try something. Anything. Put yourself out there. A job at the radio station with three weirdos doesn’t count. Just do something with real people, and if in a year, you still want to run off to be some big time music producer then I’ll help you move to LA.

Beca had to do a double take at her phone. No way was he saying that? Was he serious? It was that easy?

But you have to pass all your classes.

Beca sighed in defeat. There went her idea to just skip out on her classes until she could leave. She shot off an “okay” message to her dad then grabbed her towel and toiletries to head to the bathroom.

The bathrooms were usually pretty empty at this time of the day as everyone was off to their classes or the dining hall by now. There were the occasional stragglers like Beca who didn’t give a crap about their morning classes—or they’d won the lottery and didn’t have an early AM class. None of them were in the showers that morning though, at least that Beca noticed.

She hummed Titanium quietly to herself as she hung her towel on a peg outside of the shower curtain and tossed her soaps into the shower and set the water on hot before shutting the curtain. As soon as the curtain was closed, it felt like a wall and dropped Beca was free. The words to the song rang out loud and clear through the tiled room as Beca closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of the hot water against her chest. She was so absorbed into her own little world that she didn’t notice the jingle of the curtain being opened until a squealed “Oh my god” startled her from her reverie and she flew into the back wall of the shower trying to cover herself up.

“You can sing!” the excited voice shrilled. Beca glanced over her shoulder to see the red head, Chloe, from the activity fair standing behind her—completely nude. Of course, this would happen to Beca. The first time she gets to see a hot girl naked and it’s practically assault. Beca tried to hold her shampoo bottle up to cover her chest as the girl’s eyes started to roam a little bit. She reached out and tried to close the curtain but Chloe just ripped it open again. “How high does your belt go?”

Beca didn’t answer and instead tried too look anywhere but directly at Chloe, which Chloe wasn’t making any easier as she rambled on about the song Beca was singing. Beca was pleasantly surprised to know that Chloe knew who David Ghetta was even though Titanium was playing constantly on the top 40 stations.

Beca snapped out of her thoughts when she heard Chloe say something about her “lady jam” and she scowled at the girl. Said scowl intensified when Chloe asked her to sing it for her and Beca quickly shook her head.

“No, not for that reason,” Chloe said quickly. “Look, I’m not leaving here until you sing so…”

Beca shook her head again, trying to breath deeply and control the anxiety building in her stomach. After waiting for what felt like an hour, only really about thirty seconds, Beca quietly sang the first words of Titanium’s chorus. Her voice getting stronger with each passing beat. She heard Chloe’s voice join in on the harmony and she almost melted a little because it was like really good. And she hadn’t sang with anyone since her mom so it felt kind of special that this random naked girl she’d met once before was able to cause this level of comfort in Beca.

Beca smiled a little as they finished the chorus, and she almost forgot that she was completely naked until Chloe glanced down for just a second. Beca raised her eyes back to the ceiling again and looked away from Chloe.

“Yeah,” Chloe said, laughing at Beca’s shy response. “I’m pretty confident about all this.” She gestured down her body.

“Look,” Chloe said. “I get that you’re this like quiet, mysterious type, but your voice rocks. You should try out for the Bellas. Auditions are Saturday okay?”

Beca nodded, still refusing to look at Chloe even as she handed Beca her towel. This was absolutely crazy. Why in the world would she go to this audition now? Chloe had assaulted her in the shower. Who does that?

And yet, four days later, Beca found herself pushing open the exit door to the backstage of a small auditorium. She felt crazy even being here. She had never been able to sing in front of an audience before, what made her think she could now? She could feel the anxiety pushing adrenalin through her veins and she took a few calming breaths as she approached the stage.

“That was the last audition of the day,” a voice said as Beca peaked her head around the corner to look out at the groups seated in the auditorium. They were fairly easy to tell apart because they all sat separated from each other. Chloe and Aubrey were seated near the front and Aubrey had just begun shuffling a stack of papers together when Chloe caught Beca’s eye and yelled out, “Wait there’s one more.”

Chloe smiled hesitantly at Beca who took another deep breath and walked out onto the stage. She gave small smile and wave to Chloe before sitting down directly in front of the two co-captains. Beca hadn’t known she needed to prepare a song, but she knew one that her mom had taught her that she could easily sing on the fly so long as she could actually get herself to sing. She noticed a cup of pens on the desk in front of her and glanced cautious at Aubrey and reached out of it. After a second Aubrey gave a small, confused nod, and Beca grabbed the cup from the table, gently pouring the pens onto its surface in the process.

Beca sat back down against the stage and sighed heavily. She could do this. She knew she could so long as she just kept herself calm. Her therapist always told her that getting past her block was all about reducing anxiety.

She looked up to see Chloe smiling still at her and she felt her shoulders fall a bit as tension released. There was some impatient shuffling echoing towards the back of the auditorium, but Beca chose to drown it all out in exchange for keeping eye contact with Chloe. Those brilliantly blue eyes kept her focused for so long she didn’t even realize when she’d finished the song—nor did she notice the steel-melting glare Aubrey was directing towards her.

Without a word, Aubrey handed an audition application to Beca to fill out, while Chloe excitedly told Beca that she would hear from them by the end of the day and to be prepared—which Beca found cryptic as fuck.

After Beca had left the auditorium, Chloe turned to her girlfriend happily. “See, I told you we would see her again.”

Aubrey rolled her eyes, unwilling to admit that Chloe was right. Despite her outwardly hostile reaction toward Beca, the girl still intrigued her. After Chloe explained how she’d “stumbled” onto Beca singing in the shower and the girl still wouldn’t talk, Aubrey had pulled out her computer and done two hours worth of research on muteness. Chloe had teased Aubrey that she had a little crush on Beca, but Aubrey had stoically ignored her girlfriend in favor of pouring herself into rehearsal planning for the Bella’s.

“She still doesn’t look the part of a Bella,” Aubrey said not withholding the disdain she felt for Beca’s “alternative” style.

“We can cute her up,” Chloe said smiling. “She’s already tiny so she’s like half way there.”

“Those hideous earrings will have to go,” Aubrey added as she slid a stack of audition forms into her bag.

“Newsflash Aubrey,” Chloe sighed. “Of all the girls we auditioned today, like two of them would have fit the traditional Bella look. We should be looking for good singers. That’s the part that matters.”

Aubrey sighed. Chloe had a point. And at least with Beca, reducing the girl’s eyeliner was most of the battle to make her look like a Bella. But she didn’t like Beca. She didn’t like the way she looked at Chloe and she didn’t like that Beca wore a perpetual smirk like she thought everything around her was just vaguely amusing.

Later that evening found Beca standing in a dark room with a hood over her head, Chloe’s warning echoing through her head. She could hear Aubrey talking about some oath which sounded completely ridiculous to Beca. Who even cared who slept with who, and where was Aubrey going to get these wolves to rip out their vocal cords if they did sleep with a Treble?

When Aubrey’s cult initiation was finished, Beca found herself being ushered back into the van with the other girls and driven to a spot nearby on campus where a party was already violating noise ordinances.

“Welcome to hood night,” Aubrey said as she set the van into park. She glanced back through the review mirror and caught Beca’s eye. Her facial expression was entirely neutral which made Beca uncomfortable. She could already tell the blonde didn’t particularly like her and she had a sinking feeling that it had something to do with the way Beca couldn’t take her eyes off Chloe. It’s not like she meant to do it. Chloe was just the only person in the room that seemed to ground her. Beca knew better than to get attached though so she decided to just avoid Chloe. An idea that Chloe made extremely difficult to follow.

Beca remained off to the side for most of hood night. Acapella people turned out to be a little rowdier than she would have anticipated, and even then, large crowds weren’t Beca’s thing. Chloe had attempted three separate times to get Beca to come down and join the party and each time Beca had shook her head and grimaced. Jesse’s attempts to get her to socialize were just a futile.

He approached her about an hour after she got there, already three shades to the wind, and started talking about their “aca-children.” Beca nearly trip him backwards down the stairs just to get him to shut up, but she smiled to humor him just so that he wouldn’t push the conversation too hard. Of course, he did anyway, and Beca could see Aubrey across the amphitheater glaring at the Treblemaker. Beca found it all highly amusing and decided to play into it a little and smile more at Jesse just to get a rise out of the blonde. She knew she would regret the interaction with Jesse later, but she just didn’t really care right then.

Eventually Jesse got bored of talking and moved back down into the amphitheater to dance with the other aca-people. His retreat was followed quickly by Aubrey’s arrival. The blonde came to stand next to Beca without a word and handed off a red solo cup filled with whatever backwash swill college kids consider beer.

“Parties aren’t your thing,” Aubrey stated after a few moments. Beca shook her head. Never had been and likely never would be.

“Mine either,” Aubrey continued. “But Chloe manages to drag me to a few of them every year.”

Beca watched Aubrey cautiously. She was slightly confused as to why the blonde was even talking to her. Aubrey’s eyes tracked Chloe as she socialized across the party. She never stood in one place to long because there was always someone new to talk to—ever the social butterfly, Chloe couldn’t just leave without meeting everyone.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Aubrey blurted. Beca smiled and laughed a little. She somehow got the feeling that Aubrey wasn’t the type to blurt so Beca’s silence must have really bothered her. “What’s so funny?”

Beca pulled out her phone and gestured for Aubrey to grab hers as well before snatching it from the blonde’s hand and adding her number. She sent herself and then handed the phone back to Aubrey who took the phone cautiously, like Beca had just rigged it to explode.

Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to ask mutes about their emotional trauma? Beca sent back trying to keep a straight face.

“Th-that’s not what I meant?” Aubrey burst, and her face flushed red. “I’m sorry. That was so rude. It’s none of my business.”

Dude chill. I was joking.

Aubrey looked up and saw that Beca was smiling at her, the teasing glint evident in her eye. Aubrey scowled but then smiled slightly at the younger woman. “That was mean.”

You should have seen your face though.

Aubrey smacked her on the back of the arm lightly. “Is-is that normally how you talk to people? Through texting?” Aubrey asked. Beca could tell Aubrey had a lot of questions which made her hesitant to respond. But there was also a voice. And the voice in Beca’s mind was usually right so texted her back.

Only when they’re worth the effort. Beca winked at Aubrey when she looked back up from her phone. Aubrey’s blush returned, but she just hummed in response to Beca. She felt like she had already pushed the younger woman for information more than she should have. They just met after all. Aubrey couldn’t just dump all her questions and curiosities off on her the first time they talked. Aubrey was so distracted by her curiosity that she forgot that not twelve hours ago she was glaring holes through Beca’s skull for staring at Chloe.

Beca relaxed next to Aubrey. It seemed like the blonde wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe a little intense, but she was kind of cute when she was flustered. She could see why Chloe liked her if this is what Aubrey was like one-on-one. It hadn’t taken a genius to figure out the two were a couple. Beca could just by the way that Aubrey had reacted to her earlier that day.

Hey. I wanna apologize for earlier today. I didn’t know about you and Chloe. I just… I don’t know. I wouldn’t have been able to do that audition with out her.

Aubrey reread the text a couple times. She and Chloe weren’t exactly out on campus so that Beca had figured them out was surprising.

“You’re observant,” Aubrey said quietly. Beca just nodded her head. It was sort of obvious. When you don’t spend your time talking, you spending it listening and watching. Beca had become some what of an expert on body language.

Your secret is safe with me.

Aubrey hummed. “Chloe has a way with people,” she admitted. “She exudes calm while somehow being the most bubbly person in the room. She was able to talk me down from a panic attack less than an hour after we met.”

Beca blinked at the admission. Sure, Aubrey was intense, but Beca had figured that’s just how she was—not that it was side effect of another problem.

I get it. I haven’t sung in front of another person since I was 11… She wasn’t sure why she was telling Aubrey this. Beca didn’t do friends so why was she telling the blonde her tragic backstory. Usually Beca ran before she ever had to become personal. But if Aubrey was surprised at the admission, she didn’t show it.

“You have a beautiful voice,” Aubrey said. Beca wondered briefly if it hurt for her to admit it. “We’re… lucky to have you on our team.”

Flattery will get you everywhere Posen. Aubrey snorted as she read the text, and Beca couldn’t help but think it was cute. They stood together for another fifteen minutes before Aubrey decided to retrieve Chloe who, in the middle of her drunken dancing, had gotten a little too close to some hedges at the edge of the amphitheater and gotten her hair stuck.

Beca felt like she’d made a valiant attempt at “partying” by this time and decided to walk back to her dorm. Other than the nerd party happening behind her, campus was quiet which Beca appreciated immensely.

The following day was the first Bella’s rehearsal. Beca managed to drag her carcass out of bed in time to get to her philosophy class, but by the time she got to rehearsal she felt completely drained. Aubrey didn’t make it any easier on her either. After drop kicking two of the new freshmen, she pushed them into running laps around the rehearsal space. Exercise had never really bothered Beca, but she was so tired that day that when Chloe finally called rehearsal, Beca just dropped to her knees for a few minutes to recover her breath.

Rehearsals continued much the same way for the rest of the week. The other Bellas pushed back some on the cardio, but after exhibiting a glass-shattering high-G that lasted nearly a minute, which she attributed to their excessive cardio, Aubrey was able to hush a majority of the complaints.

Aubrey was a drill sergeant in rehearsals. She was a cold perfectionist with a failure complex, and Beca found herself growing irritated with the blonde each passing day. They learned about Aubrey’s blunder the year previous in their second rehearsal, and Beca couldn’t help but sympathize with Aubrey—they had similar problems that manifested in different ways. But what she couldn’t sympathize with was the grueling four-hour rehearsals that left her hoarse and sore at the end of the night. Beca’s voice wasn’t used to this much exercise and she was really beginning to struggle with the rehearsals.

Aubrey finally realized Beca’s struggle when they got to the second week of rehearsals. She felt bad that she hadn’t noticed it sooner, but Beca had never made any complaints. In fact, of all the girls, Beca was the easiest to work with because she never complained, which, Aubrey conceded, was probably unfair to Beca since she didn’t talk.

“Beca, bring your phone” Aubrey called as she waved Beca over at the end of their sixth rehearsal. Chloe watched them curiously. Beca had not sounded her best that day, and she was worried at what Aubrey was about to do. But instead, what happened left Chloe utterly dumbfounded.

Beca walked over to Aubrey with her head hung slightly, fully expecting to get laid into. Aubrey put two fingers under Beca’s chin to lift her gaze from the floor. “How is your throat?” she asked softly. Beca’s eyebrows shot to her hairline. “What? I care,” Aubrey laughed at the astonishment on Beca’s face.

Beca pulled out her cell phone and tapped out a response that Chloe couldn’t see from across the rehearsal space.

“I figured as much,” Aubrey said, nodding at what she read on her phone. Aubrey turned around and ran to her bag a few feet behind her and pulled out a grocery bag. Chloe had wondered what that was earlier today. Aubrey had left it sitting on their kitchen table and Chloe had looked through it just out of curiosity. It contained some pretty typical sore throat remedies—stuff like honey, tea, and lozenges. Aubrey handed the bag straight to Beca. “These should help some. Do you have a humidifier?”

Beca shook her head while Chloe looked on like Aubrey had just picked Beca up off the ground and piledrove her into the concreate. Beca discretely smirked in Chloe’s direction before returning her attention to Aubrey who was talking about the benefits of sleeping with a humidifier.

“I have one from when Chloe had strep throat last year if you want to borrow it?” Aubrey finished. She watched Beca tap out a response and then read her phone. “Okay, I’ll drop it by later tonight. What’s your dorm number?”

Beca sent Aubrey a quick response which caused the blonde to laugh, “You wish, Mitchell.”

The laugh from Aubrey made Beca smile which made Chloe smile as well. They rarely saw a genuine smile come from Beca. It was beautiful—blindingly so to Aubrey who froze when she felt her heart skip a beat. Chloe didn’t miss that reaction, and she frowned slightly.

“So those were for Beca?” Chloe asked when she’d finally left the gymnasium. Aubrey looked a little like a deer in the headlights at being caught.

“Yes,” Aubrey said. “I realized last night that a four-hour rehearsal was more vocal activity than Beca has had in a month. I wanted to be prepared in the event that it became too much for her. Which it did. You heard how her voice cracked today.”

Chloe’s heart softened at the kindness her girlfriend was showing the younger Bella. “Who would have thought, Aubrey Posen, certified softy,” Chloe tried to joke, though the smile didn’t quite seem real to Aubrey. She could see the fear in Chloe’s eyes, and she immediately felt terrible.

“Chloe,” Aubrey said walking over to where her girlfriend stood ready to leave. She reached hand up and brushed back a few strands of hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail during rehearsals. “You know I love you right?”

Chloe nodded and smiled. Of course, she knew Aubrey loved her. “It never hurts to hear you say it,” she whispered and leaned her cheek into the hand that now rested there. Aubrey pressed a sweet kiss against Chloe’s lips and Chloe said a quiet “I love you too” before they pulled apart and left for the night.

Whatever was happening between Aubrey and Beca weighed heavily in Chloe’s mind though. She didn’t even know they had each other’s phone numbers let alone that Beca had active conversations with her girlfriend. She felt sort of left out actually. Chloe was normally the one who made friends first, not Aubrey.

After a few more days, Aubrey could sense the growing fear in Chloe as she spent more of her attention on Beca. It wasn’t on purpose, but Aubrey couldn’t help the feeling of protectiveness she developed for the small Bella. She felt a kinship with Beca over their issues with anxiety, and it was nothing against Chloe, but Aubrey was sure that Chloe had never felt that level of internal conflict. Or, at least, Chloe had never been debilitated by it. And it felt so good to finally have someone in her life that understood it, even if she and Beca never talked about it.

Aubrey didn’t realize how bad it had gotten until she received a text from Beca about “needing her” and Chloe had nearly collapsed into tears when she read it off the blonde’s home screen. Aubrey had spent the next hour reassuring her distraught girlfriend of how much she loved her and that her and Beca were just friends. Obviously, there was more they needed to talk about, but even Chloe knew that for Beca to have texted Aubrey for help, it must have been important. Important enough that Chloe tagged along out of fear for the younger Bella. While Beca hadn’t necessarily opened up to Chloe the way she had with Aubrey, Chloe had still managed to climb her way past a couple of Beca’s walls. The constant physical affection had worn her down embarrassingly quick. But Beca tried not to read too much into it because Chloe was just like that. She was affectionate with everyone. It didn’t stop the butterflies though.

Chloe and Aubrey arrived at Beca’s dorm about an hour and a half after getting her text. Aubrey felt bad that they didn’t leave sooner, but Chloe had needed that time from Aubrey, and as her girlfriend, Chloe was priority number one.

Aubrey knocked on Beca’s door and called out her name. It opened little more than a second later, and Aubrey’s arms were full of a trembling Beca.

“Beca?” Aubrey asked quietly. “What’s wrong?”

There was no response from Beca. She wasn’t going to release Aubrey even if her life depended on it. Beca had been having an extremely hard day. It was the anniversary of her mother’s death and she was having a hard time dealing. She’d done her best during rehearsal that evening to hold herself together, but the minute she was alone in her dorm room, it had all come crashing down on her. The loneliness, the doubt, the anxiety. It all hit with the force of a semi-truck.

Aubrey, sensing that it would be some time before Beca calmed enough to be responsive, walked the girl backwards until they could close her dorm room door, and then lifted the girl up onto her bed and climbed up beside her. She curled into Aubrey’s side like she was trying to disappear. Chloe was watching it all with pain in her eyes, but she realized it was the pain of jealousy. It was pain caused by seeing someone you care about in pain. The realization caused something to click in Chloe and she understood Aubrey’s concern for the girl. Even if there were feelings involved, being there for Beca was about just that—being there for a girl who didn’t really have anyone else.

Chloe hopped up onto the bed next to Beca and scooted as close as she could get before dropping a kiss onto Beca’s shoulder. They sat like that for half an hour before Beca stopped shaking and her breath evened out. Aubrey thought she must have fallen asleep until Beca sat up and jumped down off the bed to grab her phone. She tapped out a quick message and both Chloe and Aubrey pulled their phones out when they heard separate dings.

I guess I owe you guys an explanation huh? Beca couldn’t even look at them. She was staring at the floor.

“Sweetheart, you don’t owe us anything,” Chloe was the first to talk. “If you’re upset, we’ll be here for you, no strings attached, no explanations required.”

Beca went to respond, but Aubrey leaned forward and put her hand over the screen after sensing the response she was about to get from Beca. “She’s right, Becs,” Aubrey said. “You don’t owe us anything. We are here because we both care about you—so much,” she added. Aubrey linked eyes with Chloe and at that moment all the confusion they had regarding Beca cleared away, and Aubrey knew they had an understanding about the role Beca held in their life. They would need to talk about it soon, but that didn’t matter right now. What mattered right now was making sure that Beca was okay.

“But,” Aubrey continued. “If you want to talk about it, we will listen.”

Beca watched the two girls in front of her. They were having a silent conversation, and something happened between them because Beca watched the clarity that swept across Chloe’s face. It almost felt like the sunshine coming out after rain, and Beca had realized how closed off Chloe had become recently around her. Beca hesitantly reached out and grabbed Chloe’s hand to squeeze it for assurance. Surprised, Chloe met Beca’s eyes then glanced down at their joined hands. Beca had never initiated before. Beca turned her eyes to Aubrey’s and took a deep breath trying to quell the storm in her stomach. It was almost like Chloe was lending her strength, because Beca could feel her voice, ready and pushing to be free. Feeling compelled to speak was a strange feeling for Beca, one she hadn’t felt since her mother was alive.

Beca swallowed heavily. “M-my mom d-died t-today,” she stuttered and pushed her gaze to the floor feeling a blush creep up her neck. Aubrey felt like the wind was knocked out of her at the sound of Beca’s voice. Chloe, still holding Beca’s hand, pulled the girl into a crushing hug and sighed into her shoulder. She didn’t know what to say to the younger woman. She didn’t feel like it really mattered what she would say anyway. It’s not like she knew what Beca was going through. She was so overjoyed at hearing Beca speak that anything she managed to say would probably be inappropriate anyway.

Aubrey made eye contact with Beca over Chloe’s shoulder. “Thank you,” she said. “For telling us. I know how hard it must have been to share with us.”

Beca knew she wasn’t just talking about her mother, but she just nodded. The compulsion she felt to speak had waned after her utterance, and now she was left to speak silently again.

“Chloe,” Aubrey said sternly. When she didn’t get a response, she tapped her girlfriend on her head. “Let go of the poor girl, she probably needs to breathe.”

With a quiet laugh, Chloe released Beca and leaned back. There were tears in her eyes and she wiped at them quickly. “Sorry.” She smiled. “I’m a crier.”

“Somehow, I don’t think she’s surprised,” Aubrey said smiling at Beca who shook her head and tentatively returned the smile.

“Are you okay?” Aubrey asked watching the maelstrom of emotions that was swirling behind Beca’s eyes.

I think so. The response popped up on Aubrey and Chloe’s phones.

“Do you want us to stay?” Chloe asked. She could see the hesitation in Beca’s eyes. “We would like to stay anyway. We would be too worried to go home now…”

The admission seemed to surprise Beca, but she didn’t question it after seeing the sincerity in Chloe’s eyes and the barely-there nod from Aubrey.

Beca grabbed her laptop and shuffled back onto the bed. She tried to sit beside Chloe to avoid being between the couple, but Chloe promptly pulled Beca over her lap and back between her and Aubrey. Beca flushed a little bit, but didn’t argue. She opened the laptop and pulled up her Netflix account before typing into a note on the side of the screen asking what they wanted to watch. They spent the night huddled together on the twin-sized bed watching some reality tv show that Aubrey and Chloe insisted that Beca needed to see. At around midnight, both girls noticed that Beca seemed to have passed out between them, leaning heavily against Chloe, leaving them to stew in their thoughts together.

“What do you think this means?” Chloe was the first to break the silence. Aubrey just looked at her waiting for her to continue. “I mean, she spoke today Bree! That’s got to mean something right?”

“I think she trusts us,” Aubrey said quietly as she examined Beca’s face. The brunette was peaceful right now. There were no worry lines or smirks, she was just relaxed. Chloe nodded, another question on the tip of her tongue.

“What does this mean for us?” Chloe’s eyes avoided Aubrey’s, instead choosing to exam one of Kimmy Jin’s posters on the far wall. When Aubrey didn’t answer, she returned her gaze to the blonde and raised an eyebrow. Aubrey’s face was soft as she looked at Beca. Chloe could clearly see the love in her eyes, but this time she didn’t feel jealous.

“It doesn’t mean anything if you don’t want it to,” Aubrey said locking her gaze onto Chloe’s.

Chloe sighed. That didn’t really help her figure out what was going on. “You’re going to fall in love with her, Bree.”

“I already love you,” she said without missing a beat. “What about you? I’ve seen how you look at her Chlo. You get all gooey, just like you do with me.”

“I don’t know,” Chloe said. She passed a hand through Beca’s hair, and the girl hummed in her sleep causing both women to smile. They met eyes over her head and Chloe nodded. “I guess yeah, I could see myself falling for her. But she doesn’t need me the way she needs you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Aubrey said gesturing to Beca’s hand which had fisted Chloe’s t-shirt. In fact, Beca was only a limb movement or two away from full on koala hugging Chloe, and it made Aubrey laugh.

“So, what do we do?” Chloe asked as she laid her hand over Beca’s on her stomach. “I love you Aubrey. Nothing, no one, is ever going to change that. I’ve always planned on marrying you and spending the rest of our lives together.”

Aubrey smiled and leaned over Beca to press a kiss to Chloe’s forehead. “Nothing is going to change that,” Aubrey agreed.

“Are we willing to go for it then?” Chloe asked.

“Maybe we should clarify what you mean by go for it first?” Aubrey said, ever the thinker.

“Like, do we tell Beca that we’re sorta falling in love with her?” Chloe clarified.

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” Aubrey said. Her eyes were cast down and her shoulders sank as she said it. “Every time you looked at me like I was betraying you for Beca, killed me a little. I never meant to. I just have this feeling,” Aubrey said and paused. “It’s like—”

“You want to protect her,” Chloe finished. “You care about her Aubrey. It’s okay. I care about her too… I think we should just do it.”

Aubrey looked at her, not quite sure if Chloe was serious.

“I don’t want to live my life wondering Bree,” Chloe said. “If this could be something, I want to know it. And then, if it doesn’t work, we will still have each other.”

Aubrey nodded. “Okay..”

“Really?” Chloe’s face broke out into a grin and she had to keep from squealing quietly, afraid of waking the sleeping Bella. Aubrey nodded again with a smile. Chloe’s own was infectious.

The two women did their best to readjust themselves so that they all could sleep laying down on Beca’s single bed. At this point, there was no way they were leaving the younger woman alone—not that Beca would let them. The second Chloe had tried to move, Beca’s other hand caught her shirt in an equally tight grip. It was honestly the cutest thing either of them had ever seen. But it made things a little more difficult for Chloe to lay down. She took it in stride though. Eventually she was able to maneuver herself and Beca around so that she could lay straight back pull Beca onto her chest leaving enough room for Aubrey to sleep beside them. Neither of them even thought to wonder where Beca’s roommate was.

The next morning Beca woke sweating from the amount of heat surrounding her. She tried to sit up only to be caught by an arm pulling her back down. Aubrey it seemed had pulled Beca off of Chloe in her sleep and now the three were spooning with Beca in the middle. Aubrey mumbled something about it being too early and Beca glanced behind her to see that her alarm clock read 9AM.

She groaned. Her dad was going to kill her for missing class again, but the thought was soon forgotten when Aubrey pulled Beca even tighter against her and laid a sleepy kiss on her forehead. Beca blushed brightly and was thankful that neither girl was awake to witness her struggle.

After a couple more minutes of trying to escape Aubrey’s grasp, Beca gave up and settled in to wait until the girls work up. Chloe was the first one to stir about twenty minutes later. She turned in her sleep to see Beca pouting slightly at her and she had to keep from laughing at her.

“Aubrey has a death grip in the morning,” Chloe whispered. Beca rolled her eyes like that was the most obvious thing Chloe had ever said. Aubrey moved slightly in her sleep and Beca’s eyes went wide as she glanced down slightly. This time Chloe really did laugh. Aubrey had managed to slip her hand under Beca’s shirt and was resting against her stomach, just over her belly button.

“Alright Aubrey,” Chloe finally said, full volume. “Time to let poor Beca go. You’re going to give her an aneurism if you keep this up.”

Aubrey’s mouth formed a smile as she opened her eyes. She’d been awake most of the last ten or so minutes having woken during Beca’s last attempt to get away. “Sorry,” she whispered. Beca shot her a glare. Aubrey wasn’t sorry at all and grinned.

Aubrey released Beca, despite wanting to lay there forever, and sat up to run her hands through her hair. Beca jumped around Aubrey and off of the bed. She grabbed her phone before stumbling out of the room. Chloe raised her eyebrows after Beca, but turned her attention to her phone when she heard it ping.

Had to pee.

Chloe laughed. “She’ll be right back.”

“Remind me not to sleep in jeans again,” Aubrey said as she slid off the bed. Lines dented the skin across her stomach and she rubbed them with a frown.

A minute or so later Beca stepped back into the room with a small smile on her face. She scratched the back of her head before looking up at the two women who had spent the night in her bed.

Sorry you guys had to sleep on my tiny bed.

“No problem, Becs,” Chloe said practically bouncing on the mattress. “We wanted to be here.”

“Actually,” Aubrey said, eyeing Chloe on the bed and the way Beca seemed particularly fascinated with the floor. “We kind of want to talk to you.”

Terror flashed across Beca’s face and she started to type a message onto her phone. Aubrey let her finish and glanced at it before facing Beca.

“It’s nothing bad,” Aubrey said and reached out to grab her hand. “I promise. In fact, hopefully, it’ll be something pretty great.”

Beca raised an eyebrow first at Aubrey and then to Chloe, hoping she would explain.

“It’s good,” Chloe said reaching out to grab Beca’s hands from Aubrey’s. Beca nodded slowly, allowing Chloe to pull her up onto the bed. Aubrey grabbed her desk chair and pushed in front of Beca before taking a seat.

Aubrey cleared her throat and clasped her hands in front of herself. “Chloe and I,” she said glancing over to her girlfriend. “Realized something yesterday, or last night rather. We know this may seem like a shock, but you’ve come to mean a lot to us in the last three weeks.”

“Like a lot, a lot,” Chloe added. Aubrey smirked because she knew the redhead was trying so hard to keep herself from bouncing next to Beca. Then she nodded and returned to Beca’s gaze.

“You know we’re together,” Aubrey stated and Beca nodded her head. Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re pretty much the only person who does know,” Aubrey added. “And we were wondering how you feel about us?” Each word Aubrey spoke was long and drawn out and Chloe almost felt the need to smack the back of her head to shake the words out.

Beca tilted her head back with a sigh. She hoped they would never bring this up. She was embarrassed. She shouldn’t have feelings for one woman in a relationship, let alone two.

“Becs, just be honest with us,” Chloe said tipping Beca’s head down to meet her eyes. After a second of eye contact with Chloe, Beca reached for her phone and typed out a haste message.

I’m sorry. I never meant to feel anything for either of you. I mean, I barely know you. What kind of crazy person falls for two women in a relationship with each other?

Aubrey quirked her lips as she read the message. This could work. They had a chance. “Beca,” Aubrey said. “We don’t want you to feel guilty about anything. We wanted to know because we genuinely care about you.”

“Like, care, about you,” Chloe tried to clarify, but only succeeded in making Beca more confused.

“What she means to say,” Aubrey said after sending a sharp look Chloe’s way. “Is that we both have feelings for you—romantic feelings.”

Beca let out a heavy breath and her eyes widened as she looked at Aubrey. She wasn’t serious right? Like, that wasn’t a thing—that couldn’t be a thing could it? She breathed deeply trying to calm her over-excited heart. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears and she almost felt a little faint, but then Aubrey was there in front of her holding Beca’s hand to her chest and she felt her breaths slowing down. She gave an apologetic grimace to Aubrey as she pulled away.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Aubrey said. “We did kind of just spring this on you with no warning. We’ve had a little time to get used to the idea.”

What does it even mean if you BOTH have feelings for me? Beca typed.

“Well,” Chloe said, taking the lead and speaking a little clearer this time. “We were hoping you might like to try dating us.”

“Both of us,” Aubrey added point between them. “But we would still be dating each other as well.”

Like a three-way.

Chloe smirked and opened her mouth to say what Aubrey anticipated as a lewd comment so jumped in ahead of her.

“Yes,” she explained. “We would all be dating each other. We would make up ground rules and communicate to make sure that no one feels left out or jealous, of course.”

“We don’t want to pressure you,” Aubrey continued. “If you need time to think about it, we understand.”

Beca nodded her head. I don’t think I need time.

“Oh…” Aubrey said. Disappointment marred her facial expression as she assumed the worst.

Ask me again.

“What?” Aubrey said, staring at her phone.

Ask me again. She repeated.

“Beca,” Chloe said hopefully, catching Beca’s blue eyes with her own. “Will you be ours?”

“Okay,” she said.

#pitch perfect #triple treble

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mediocre--writing · 4 years

Text

Prompts

If you want to request from these prompts just pick a character and however many prompts you want (ex: A14 would be Angst #14, etc.), along with anything else you would like in the one shot/story (like a summary or something idk).

Thank you for finding my blog (and hopefully liked/enjoyed them)!

Disclaimer: I got these prompts from other Tumblr posts and Pinterest, but I forgot to copy who I got them from, so if you find some that are yours, just tell me and I’ll give you credit :)

ANGST

“I can’t do anything right.”

“Please don’t cry.”

“Why are you awake right now?”

“Why are you lying to me?”

“Wake up! Please wake up.”

“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.”

“Don’t you ever do that again!”

“Is that blood?” “…..No?”

“Please don’t lie to me again, I can’t take it.”

“Do you even still love me?”

“Nobody’s seen you in days.”

“Why are you awake?”

“I’m worried about you.”

“Can you shut up for once in your life?”

“Holding everything in doesn’t help, you know.”

“Are you hurt?” “No.” “Then why are there bruises all over your face?”

“If you don’t hug me right now I think I might fall apart.”

“Leave! Me! Alone!”

“I think we should break up.”

“You aren’t who I thought you were.”

“I don’t even know who you are anymore!”

“Why can’t you look at me?”

“What’s wrong?”

“You want to be with him/her/them, don’t you?”

“You promised you’d change!”

“Am I not enough for you?”

“What is so wrong with me?”

“I’m sick of trying.”

“I don’t want to be just friends.”

“I can’t trust you anymore.”

“I can’t even look at you.”

“Your problem isn’t me, your problem is __” (Fill in the blank)

“I’m always wrong, aren’t I?”

“You said this time it’d be different.”

“Please give me a chance.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“I wish I’d never laid eyes on you.”

“I don’t love you anymore.”

“We can’t keep this up forever.”

“You make me feel so small.”

“Don’t leave me like this!”

“Don’t ever call me again.”

“Talk to me, please.”

“Don’t push me away.”

“This is your son/daughter.”

“I think I need a break from you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I can’t promise you anything.”

“It’s better this way.”

“The baby… it’s yours.”

“After all this time, and you still can’t look me in the eye?”

“I can only blame myself.”

“I was only pretending.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“This is all because of you!”

“I don’t feel the same way.”

“Just go!”

“Please stay.”

“What don’t you telling me?”

“It’s okay, you didn’t know.”

“Don’t tell me to keep calm!”

“I’m keeping the baby, with or without you.”

“I need to be alone.”

“Stop calling me.”

“I can’t remember why I ever loved you.”

“Don’t apologize; I know you don’t mean it.”

“I can’t believe what you’ve done.”

“I don’t need you, I’m fine on my own.”

“All I wanted was a happy ending.”

“Mistakes are easily made at the moment. Apologies are not.”

“I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

“My emotions have been turbulent for so long, I’m not sure how to react.”

“My heart tells me to kiss you, my head tells me to walk away.”

“I don’t want material belongings! I want my heart back!”

“Until you can return the time I wasted on you, I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Grief is natural they say. So is death. I don’t want either.”

“You can’t look pretty and dangerous at the same time. Not yet.”

“Kill everything dear to you and then you will know how it feels.”

“I don’t hold people close. It makes it easier for them to hurt you.”

“Don’t touch me. Your skin is poisonous.”

“Why won’t he/she/they call?”

“I’m dreading her/his/their call, I’m not ready.”

“I don’t like this, it feels weird.”

“Kill my feelings, kill my soul. Kill everything I am.”

“Don’t call me, I don’t want any contact with you.”

“Please don’t talk to me, I’m dealing with some stuff.”

“It’s not working out. We’re not working out.”

“Hey, I’m leaving for good. I’ll…see you around.”

“How could you do this to me?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Not this time!”

“I never want to see you again.”

“Wanna bet?”

“I know you and this isn’t you.”

“You betrayed my trust.”

“Get out!”

“Maybe I’m better off alone.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“I’ll die without you.”

“I never loved you.”

FLUFF

“Go with me?” “As long as you hold my hand.”

“Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?”

“Have you seen my hoodie?” “Nooo.” “You’re wearing it, aren’t you?”

“Have you always been this beautiful?”

“OH, you’re jealous!”

“Can we stay like this forever?”

“Please just kiss me already.”

“I think you might be my soulmate.”

“Sleepover? Please?”

“Are we on a date right now?”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

“He’s so pretty I think I’m gonna faint.”

“Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

“Am I your lock screen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“I missed you so much.”

“Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?”

“I’m here for you.”

“I wish we could live together already.”

“Quit stealing all the pillows!”

“You want a bite?”

“Give me a second and I’ll show you.”

“You’ll play this game with me, won’t you?”

“What should we name him/her?”

“Have you ever played in the rain?”

“Is it hot in here or is that just you?”

“Why are your feet so cold?”

“Ride the Ferris wheel with me?”

“There’s room for two/three!”

“Stop that, I’m ticklish!”

“Put your finger here while I go get the tape.”

“Here’s my number!”

“You want chocolate or vanilla?”

“Your hands are so warm!

“Are you sure you’re not tired? Because you’ve been running through my mind all day.”

“You’re sweeter than candy.”

“You smell really nice.”

“Your hair’s so soft…”

“You’re my new pillow.”

“Can I rub your back?”

“If nothing lasts forever, will you be my nothing?”

“I think I love you.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Hold my hand.”

“It’s not morning yet.”

“Stay for a little longer…”

“Of course I’m happy! How far along are you?”

“You’re so beautiful.”

“I’ll always be here for you.”

“You are my love.”

“You were right here all along.”

“Do you want my coat? It’s really cold out here.”

“You don’t need keys to drive me crazy.”

“Do you want to get dinner sometime?”

“Call me whenever… no really.”

“You’ve got flour on your cheek.”

“Sorry… your hair was in your face… thought I should move it so I could see you better.”

“You don’t have to leave so soon.”

“You could put your feet in my lap, you know.”

“I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“We’re pregnant!”

“Are you science? Because I’ve got my ion you.”

“We could try cuddling.”

“Stop being so cute.”

“Are you okay?”

“Our relationship is the most important thing in my life.”

“You can sleep, I’ll keep you safe.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.”

“I want to eat yogurt with you.”

“Can we make a cake? I like cake.”

“I like your rainbow shoes.”

Please hold me. It’s been a day.”

“I’ve never felt such love.”

“The moon is high tonight, it frames you well.”

“I want to dance through an army of fireflies with you.”

“Stars pale in comparison to you.”

“My heart hurts when I see you and I find myself drunk on the pain.”

“I would give up everything for the chance to see your laugh again.”

“Monster Inc. was onto something, your smile and laughter run my entire world.”

“I dedicate this nail to you when I paint them.”

“All I want is to sleep by your side.”

“Cover me in badges of your love.”

“I’ve never enjoyed anything more than a hug from you.”

“You look yummy.”

“My hand was made to fit into yours. That’s all there is to it.”

“I didn’t get soaked wet through walking to your house for you to say no to pizza. I have been too. I know you’re sad, so let me in.”

“This might sound so creepy but I want your skin. It’s so pretty.”

“You just dropped love into my heart and that’s all I needed.”

“We only have one room left for the night…”

“We can make this work, I know we can.”

“I love you so much that it physically hurts.”

“God, I’m never leaving your side again.”

“you’re an idiot, but you’re cute.”

“I’m asking you on a date, idiot.”

“Listen, I really don’t like you, but you have kittens, so I’m going to be over a lot.”

"Would you STOP coming in through the WINDOWS, it scares the hell out of me every TIME!“

"Listen, we have very thin walls and I heard you crying in the shower, are you okay?”

"I was very good friends with the guy that lived here before you and basically I was over here a lot and… well, old habits die hard, can I stay?“

"If you set the alarm off in the middle of the night ONE MORE TIME I SWEAR I WI- wait why were you even cooking at 3 am?”

“Hey, I locked myself out can I use your phone?” “You locked yourself out too?”

MISCELLANEOUS

“All I do is drink coffee and say bad words.”

“Quit touching me, your feet are cold!”

“I think I just ripped my pants.”

“Sharing is caring, now give me the hoodie!”

“Can I pet your dog?” “Do I know you?”

“Did you seriously just get your foot stuck in a toilet?” “Maybe.”

“If I die, I’m haunting you first.”

“But I’ve never told you that before.”

“Stop being grumpy, it’s lame.”

“So, uh, I locked the keys in the car.”

“Is the cat in a onesie?” “Uh, no?

“Can we please stop running? I think I’m dying.”

“You come here often?” “Well, I work here. So I think I’d have to say ‘yes’.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be working?”

“Give me attention.”

“YOU SAID TO BE HONEST STOP HITTING ME!”

“Okay, so maybe I didn’t see that coming.”

“I’m too sober for this.” “You don’t even drink.” “Maybe I should start.

“At least you’ll die doing what you love; Walking into danger.”

“Here are some cookies and some very bad news!”

“I have forgotten everything I’ve ever learned.”

“Let me keep that promise.”

“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious.”

“Why am I always the funniest when no one is around to hear it?”

“Can you stay still for the next 20 minutes? No, I’m not drawing you.”

“Oh no, I feel bad- SYKE, no I don’t.”

“Next problem… we might die.”

“Wow, that was a great comeback.”

“Who is running this thing?!”

“You are aware that the walls aren’t people, right?”

“Hey, go fill up your human needs.”

“Yeah, keep making jokes. That’ll win the war.”

“Yeah, I can see how hiding behind a rock is a much better strategy.”

“I think… everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves.”

“I can’t help that I’m curious.”

“I know you. You’re a terrible person. But as the judge here, I will look at you in the unbiased way you don’t deserve.”

“The mountains are calling and I must skedaddle.

“Who says ‘nincompoop’?!”

“Things fascinate me. Why wouldn’t they, when you stop to give them thought?”

“Are you always so easily convinced?”

“Look, it’s difficult for me to isolate what I hate about you the most because there is so much to hate.”

“That’s an order. Obey.”

“Look, I don’t want to swear but; What. The frick!”

“As the most amazing person in the room, I’ll gladly accept that.”

“Now power down, sass robot.”

“The art of not being an idiot is extremely challenging for me.”

“That’s troubling.”

“Tell your story. Become words, become ideas… you never know what or who it’ll affect.”

“Can I climb on your shoulders?” “Why?” “To get a better view.”

“Stop trying to take pictures and enjoy yourself.”

“Listen! They are playing our song!”

“OH MY GOD THEY LOOKED IN MY DIRECTION THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE.” “You need to calm down.”

“Jesus, are you crying?”

“Just get them out of the car before you kill them.”

“I’m not going to drop down from the balcony!”

“Someday somebody’s going to mistake your snoring as a helicopter.”

“You couldn’t have bothered with a little heads up?”

“Call the stupid prick and tell her what’s happening.”

“Oh me? I’m just in my pajamas, making sure that nobody bleeds out in the hallway.”

“You are looking less confident every minute.”

“I am admittedly bored, but I barely can do anything about it now can I?”

“Oh God, it’s you.. would it be weird if I asked where your sister is?”

“How would you describe the moment with one word?” “Naked. Very, very naked.”

“I’ve never seen you in my life and you just threw up on my shoes, who do you think you - oh gosh, you’re now unconscious.”

“You’re talking to me but I can’t hear you over the sound of my sniffling nose.”

“You look so pretty while you’re coughing your lungs out.”

“I feel really dizzy and hot - and oh - oh when did I end up on the floor?”

“We thought you just had a common cold, why is the doctor saying what you have is terminal?”

“Hold on, we’re coming.”

“I won’t let you fall.”

“Hey, it’s me, it’s just me.”

“Oh god… what did they do to you?”

“Can you stay awake for me?”

“Who gave you permission to fall asleep?”

“I’m going to make that sick bastard suffer for what he did to you.”

“Don’t look” / “Look at me”

“Here, you might need something to bite on…”

“I thought I’d never get to see you again.”

“I know you can’t talk, but I just want you to know that I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m not leaving you here!”

“Hold my hand.”

“You’re so cold…” / “You’re burning up”

“I know it hurts, I’m sorry.”

“I’ve got you.”

“Please be okay.”

“I’m sorry I failed you, I should’ve been there.”

“Just keep pressure on it.”

“Please don’t leave me, I can’t do this without you.”

“I just need more time.”

“Wish me luck.”

“I just don’t believe in coincidences.”

“Ok, I have a fear of balloons.”

“Change is not good for me.”

“I have to stay awake.”

“Hold on, what did you wish for?”

“If we can just get passed this last door.”

“I can never trust someone who thinks puppies, are evil masterminds trying to take over the world.”

“That’s my name, too.”

”Walk with me?” “Sure. Not like I have a broken leg or anything..”

”Do you like her?” “No! She just makes me realize how much anger issues I actually have”

#5sos #marvel #harry potter #x reader #one shot #oneshot #imagine

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gets-romantic · 5 years

Text

I Dream of You So Often It’s Like You Never Leave

Loving you is so easy, I can do it in my sleep I dream of you so often it’s like you never leave

Mac's been having dreams about Dennis since he left.

Mac wasn’t really sure how often most people had sex dreams, but he assumed that only one in a good week was a little excessive. Waking up at four in the morning every few days and having to more or less wake up so he can jerk off and finally fall back asleep seems like a little much and he was way fucking over it.

For the third time in a week he bolted up in bed, sweating, with his heart trying to hammer its way out of his ribcage. Jerking awake to the feeling of hands creeping their way down his chest and a mouth doing a number on his neck wasn’t as awful as he wished it was. In a way, he thought that it would be easier if he hated it. Maybe that way his subconscious could get the message and stop pumping it all into his psyche. It was Freudian, really, which Mac did not care for, Freud was just a little science bitch who spent his whole career trying to justify why it was totally chill that he wanted to fuck his mom.

He woke up hard, painfully so, and angry about having to get up to take care of it. He splashed cold water on his face and shaking his head when all was said and done to try to clear his thoughts, to try to not remember that to get off he mentally continued what he saw in his dream.

Sometimes his dreams were about Dennis. Okay, most of the time they were about Dennis, probably about nine times out of ten. Once Mac had dream-fucked this cute new barista at the Starbucks down the street, but he considered that more like a fluke than anything else.

The dreams weren’t even always about sex, or at least it didn’t always start that way. Last week he dreamt that he and Dennis had been out for their monthly dinner, and it was all so painfully normal , he could have sworn it was real. Then they’d gotten back to the apartment and had what felt like absolutely mind blowing sex. If Mac was being honest, some similar things had happened after getting back from the dinners, but his subconscious amplified it all.

A few had no sex at all, surprisingly, once he dreamt that he was walking home late at night, tired and cold, and when he unlocked and opened the front door Dennis was sitting at the table. He looks up when Mac enters, pushing an old chipped coffee mug away from him. Mac is stunned, unsure of what to say, whether it was Dennis or some weird ghost or hallucination thing. “You,” he starts, taken aback and confused. “You’re back.”

“Of course I am, dumb ass,” Dennis smiles, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He gets up, walking towards where Mac was standing in the doorway, door still wide open to the hallway. Dennis grips the door, easing it close, pushing Mac further backwards until his back is up against it, and Mac lets him. Dennis settles his hand on the door to the left of Mac’s head, the other on the door knob, boxing him in.

“Why?” The only word Mac’s shocked voice manages to force out.

“You didn’t really think I’d just leave like that, did you? Of course I came back, I’ll always come back, Mac.”

There’s a sinking feeling in his chest, it was entirely hollow, until it fills again with something that feels like hope. Like yeah, there’s no way Dennis would run away and forget about him , he thought, and he wants so bad to believe him that he almost did.

Dennis’s hand finds its way from the doorknob to his shoulder, sliding over to flatten down the collar of his peacoat (God, it looked good , maybe he should look to buy one in real life). “I missed you,” he says, his voice is soft and with no edge.

“I missed you, too,” Mac answers, gripping onto Dennis’s waist, like he knew exactly what to do, and pulled him closer.

Dennis grins wide, it’s near contagious, and Mac can’t help but smile back. Dennis reaches up and lifts Mac’s chin with a gentle nudge. His eyes scanned over Mac’s face before leaning in to kiss him, soft and sweetly.

Mac hated that one the most, it was recurring, too, and if he sees it for a third time this month he might scream. The sex ones were easier, it was easier to remove Dennis from the equation and just assume it was because he missed him (in a totally platonic bro way), and also wanted to have sex, and the two were in no way related. He could go on a hookup app or to a bar and pick up some guy and have a stand in for Dennis for the night, but the emotional bullshit made the water a little more murky.

He tried that once, he downloaded Tinder after Dee told him he just need to fuck to feel better. Mac had hoped to God that she was right. He had planned to meet up at a bar on a Wednesday night with the first guy he hit it off with on the app, who Mac is pretty sure was named Ethan. Ethan was nice, tallish with a twink body, wearing tortoise shell glasses, a button up, and a cardigan. He was sweet, and had an apartment really close to the bar, which was convenient and probably planned on his part. The sex was pretty good, too, but hook ups didn’t seem like the answer to his problems. When everything was said and done, and they were lying down on Ethan’s bed still tipsy from the bar, covered in sweat and chests heaving, Mac didn’t feel any better. There was a few minutes of silence, when neither of them were sure what to say to break the heavy stillness.

Ethan sighed “So, uh, that was good,” he said, tentatively.

Mac didn’t reply, and when Ethan turned to him, he was crying. It was embarrassing as all hell. He didn’t know what to do, and just froze. This had never happened before, during hookups with men or women or whoever, or really sex in general, he was too much of a badass. Ethan seemed equally off guard, but held Mac as he sobbed, neither entirely sure why or even what was even happening. On the inside Mac wanted so badly for the floor to open up and swallow him whole, but despite the embarrassment it was nice. The feeling of strong arms around him made him feel safe, and when he closed his eyes he imagined it was Dennis holding him. He left before Ethan woke up the next morning, and tried hard not to cry on a 7:00am subway surrounded by everyone on their way to work.

Sex was something where he could find a stand-in for, but all the lame emotions were more complicated. No matter how hot a guy he meets at a bar is and no matter how good the sex is, it can’t replace the feeling he gets in his dreams when Dennis says he would never be gone for good, never leave him like he did.

If the dreams could just fucking stop maybe then Mac could move on. It was obvious that Dennis had, they hadn’t spoken on the phone yet this month, longer than that since Dennis had been the one to call first, and he hadn’t even replied to Mac’s last text message from three days ago. The hard part was that his subconscious was keeping the memory of Dennis alive and well, every night in his head it was like he had never left. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had dreams (regular or sex related) about Dennis before, when you spend so much time with one person it’s not surprising, but nearly every goddamn night? Really? It was a bit excessive, he had to admit. He was stopping himself from accepting that Dennis was gone and if his brain could just give it a fucking rest maybe he could really get the message.

Dennis wasn’t coming back, he made that painfully clear, but it wasn’t easy to just turn off twenty years of feelings in an instant. Mac deep down had always known that Dennis would never return anything he’d ever felt, and that he could never seem to will that into existence. He needed to find a way to get over Dennis and feel something for someone else for once in his life because this just wasn’t cutting it. He’d never managed in the past few months to get over the thought of just walking into the apartment one day and Dennis sitting at the table on his phone, or watching TV on the couch just like he’d never left. The recurring dream of that exact thing didn’t help, but he couldn’t stop holding his breath whenever he swung open the front door, wanting so fucking bad for things to be like they were before. The apartment felt too big for just one person, it was empty and lonely.

The next night, Mac fell asleep early, probably sometime around midnight after drinking too much too early in the night he had just decided to call it quits. Not being able to drink for as long throughout the day made him feel 100 years old but his tired bones were craving sleep like it’s oxygen and who was he to deprive them any longer, it doesn’t take long until he’s under.

After hours of a peaceful, dreamless sleep (thank you, alcohol), a weight sinks into the other side of the bed. It’s jarring, feeling someone else’s beside you when you live alone. Mac scrambles around the bedside table trying to turn on the light, and knocking his phone and an old coffee mug to the floor in his wake. In the glow of his bedside lamp he makes out the shape of someone else beside him, waiting for his eyes to adjust. He thinks that maybe this is the end, maybe someone broke in and he’s about to be stabbed to death or have his throat slit or something way more gruesome than that.

“Dennis?” He blurts out in shock. “What the fuck?” The volume and pitch of his voice raising. He was 90% sure this was real.

“Shut up, Jesus Christ, I just got off a redeye,” Dennis groans burying his head into the pillow to hide from the light.

“No way, dude! What are you doing here?” Mac nearly yells.

“Come on, man, I’m so tired, just go to sleep.”

“You sneak into my room in the middle of the night, get into my bed, I thought you were going to kill me! I’ve got the right to ask a few fucking questions!”

“Fine! You want answers? Fine!” Dennis groans, rolling onto his back and propping himself up on his elbows.

Mac’s taken aback by how easily Dennis gave into his request and finds himself stumbling over his words. “What are youーwhat? Why?”

“Why am I here?” Dennis clarifies. Mac nods, still dumbfounded and unable to make his words make sense. “I just had to leave, at least for a bit.”

“So, what? You just up and left in the middle of the night?”

“I told her my mom was sick and I had to go back to Philly right away, and I just guessed you wouldn’t have changed the locks.” Dennis leans back down, turning onto his side towards Mac and closing his eyes, assuming the conversation was over.

Mac pauses for a moment, trying to process everything that’s happening in his foggy, tired brain. “But, your mom is dead,” Mac says, like that’s the part of this he didn’t understand.

“I know,” Dennis answers, not bothering to open his eyes. “But Brian’s isn’t. Or maybe she will be in a week, I’m not sure yet. Are you done yet? Can I just fucking sleep now?”

“No! Dude, come on! What are you doing in my bed?”

“The other room doesn’t have one, dumb ass.” He sits up more this time, glaring at Mac for continually interrupting his rest.

“Oh, yeah, right. But, like, you made that whole show of leaving, that everything was over, and now, what? You want to just march back in here like nothing happened? You can’t do that, you can just decide what life you want depending on the day!”

“It’s not like that!” They were both nearly yelling now, Dennis sat cross legged across the bed from Mac, he sighed and put his head down in his hands for a moment. It had been months since he’s been this close but it still feels like he’s a million miles away. “I thoughtーI thought I was doing the right thing, being responsible and going to go be a dad, but I just don’t think I can fucking do it. I thought that it would make me happy, all that nuclear family bullshit, just like it’s supposed to, but it doesn’t! I look at her and I feel nothing, and I look at that kid and I justーI feel nothing . That’s not what it was supposed to be like, man, and I don’t know. I don’t know,” his voice softened, he sounded so small, staring straight past Mac into the darkness, the small IKEA bedside table lamp barely giving off life. He took a deep breath, recollecting himself and looking back to Mac. “How did you know?”

“Know what?” Mac asks, everything Dennis was saying was all over the place and it left his head spinning.

“How did you know you were gay?” Dennis’s voice is soft and unsure, like if he spoke to loudly he’d disrupt the still air that made its home in the two feet between them.

Put on the spot, Mac isn’t really sure how to put what he feels into words but decides to give it a shot anyways. “It’s complicated, I guess. I don’t know, every relationship I’d had with a woman felt kind of empty, but I had no idea what I was missing and just thought that it was like that for everyone. Eventually I kind of just realized that that just doesn’t make that much sense, like, why would everyone put so much effort into faking happiness all the time, you know? And I guess I just picked up on how much more attention I paid to dudes, like thinking about what they’d feel like and shit. You can’t make a life out of what you think you’re supposed to do.” He decides to gloss over how much he wrestled with religion and morality over that time, it wasn’t something he felt like he needed to get into now, and it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about yet. At all.

Dennis nods absentmindedly, deep in thought and weighing what Mac had said. The longer the silence stretches out, the heavier it feels. The tension is palpable and Mac feels like if he reached out he could grab it in his hands.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and Iー” He takes a deep breath. “I think that I should try… doing stuff with a man.” His words are careful and painfully deliberate, almost like he was proposing some type of clinical study. Like it was a hypothesis he needed tested, the scientific method was tried and true and he needed empirical evidence.

“That’s okay, man. We can make you a Tinder profile or go to a bar tomorrow, or something, there’s one I’ve been going to in the east end recently, it’s not technically a gay bar but it’s one, like, unofficially.” Mac is trying so hard to look and sound like he didn’t just get the wind knocked out of his lungs, life was throwing him a curveball tonight. His head was spinning and he was trying so hard to keep his cool, no matter how badly he wanted to reach out and grab Dennis by the throat and kiss him like he’s wanted to since he was 16.

“No, not with a stranger. I think I need to kiss you.” Dennis’s eye drilled holes into Mac’s skin.

“Oh, uh, okay.” He might be legally brain dead. Unsure of what to do or say, he just stares back absolutely stunned.

“Okay? Then, can I?” This is probably the most Dennis has asked for permission before making a move, not in a dubious way, more that everything is often just more nuanced. Probably the most Mac had ever been asked. Now? Right fucking now?

“Yeah,” he manages to force out.

Dennis leans in, painfully slow, reaching up to place a hand lightly on his shoulder. Mac places a hand on his jaw, gliding his thumb over Dennis’s cheekbone. He takes in the look on Dennis’s face, his eyes are wide and uncharacteristically innocent. He’s so beautiful it hurts to look at him head on sometimes, like he’s staring straight into the sun. Mac leans forward to meet Dennis somewhere in the middle, covering his mouth in a kiss so soft it should be illegal. It’s gentle and unsure, neither knowing how far they should take it. Dennis tasted like every feeling he’d had for him in high school, everything that he’d pushed so far down inside himself hoping that they’d disappear. But that’s the thing about feelings, isn’t it? They’re messy and don’t like to be contained in tiny tupperware containers shoved to the back of your brain. Like all the times he’d gotten off to Dennis’s videotapes and lied to himself that it was about the women in it and not because it was Dennis, but lying to yourself is tiring and Mac could only have kept it up for so long. Eventually everything started to boil over and he realized that maybe he’d get off to those because it was a dude in the videos, more specifically it was Dennis.

Mac pulls back, wanting to gauge Dennis’s reaction. Suddenly feeling very naked when the cold air sweeps across his bare chest, wearing only a pair of plaid boxer shorts. He doesn’t get far before slides an arm around his shoulders, pulling him firmly forward until they crash into each other again, Dennis runs a hand through Mac’s hair, pulling gently. Like Dennis can’t seem to pull away, like he knew what it was like to breathe now and Mac was the only source of oxygen in the room. Mac moves his hands conservatively, unsure if there’s an invisible line in place, and trying very hard not to cross it. He settles his free hand on Dennis’s waist, rubbing small circles into the worn fabric of his pullover sweater; it was an old one, the colours were faded and the sewn on appliques of Dennis’s university logo had frayed in its twenty year lifespan.

“Here, you canー” Dennis breathes out, cutting himself off by lifting the hem of his pullover, encouraging Mac to touch his skin. His skin is incredibly soft, Mac’s hands run up his waist and over his ribcage, loving the feeling of Dennis shivering under his touch. One hand strays from Dennis’s waist, grabbing his ass through his sweatpants and pulling his hips forward making Dennis’s breath hitch.

Reluctantly, Dennis pulls back far enough to take off his sweater. Mac runs his hand over Dennis’s flushed and heaving chest, his lips are wet and open, breathing hard. Dennis leans forward, shifting so he’d straddling Mac’s lap, forcing him back against the wooden backboard. They’re way closer now than before, chests pressed firmly together. When they kiss again it’s different than before, the new angle and position allowing it to be deeper and dirtier than ever. Mac slides his tongue into Dennis’s mouth, gliding it across the back of his bottom teeth before biting into his bottom lip, pulling it towards himself. The sounds Dennis makes are things he would never let others know about outside of this one moment, it made them powerful, Mac would do anything to keep him making such beautiful noises. He wasn’t loud or anything, but would softly gasp or sigh or moan in such a way that Mac could feel himself growing harder with every one.

Dennis rolled his hips, grinding down on Mac’s partially hard cock. Mac groans at the new contact, muffled by Dennis’s mouth on his, he grabs at Dennis’s ass with both hands, pulling him impossibly closer as he chases that contact again. After a second letting his hands dip below the waistline of Dennis’s sweatpants, feeling his warm bare skin.

“Can I?” Dennis breathes out, still unsure of what’s okay, if either of them needed to tap out. He slips a finger or two into Mac’s boxer shorts to hint to what he wants. “I want to get you off.” He leans closer to Mac’s ear, his voice dropping half an octave and slowing, groping at Mac’s cock through the thin layer of cotton.

“ Fuck , yeah, God, yeah, go head.” The words fall out jumbled as Mac loses more and more brain functions to the sensations. He would let Dennis do anything to him right now.

They shift around slightly, allowing Mac to lift his hips enough for Dennis pull down his boxers, before kicking them to the floor somewhere. Dennis resettles himself on Mac’s thighs, his weight holding him firmly in place. He places a hand on Mac’s throat, pausing for a moment to scan his face and Mac would kill to know what he was thinking.

In that moment, Dennis was absolutely breathtaking, his pupils were blown and his lips were slightly parted and shiny with spit. Mac doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful, every sunset, constellation, and forest fire there’s ever been rolled into one. He didn’t want it to end, he never wanted to have to move his eyes from Dennis’s face.

Dennis drags his hand from Mac’s throat down his chest painfully slowly. The anticipation is agonizing when his hand grazes down his abs. Mac’s breath hitches when Dennis’s hand wraps a hand around his steadily hardening cock. Mac swears to God he saw a slight smile creep its way onto Dennis’s lips for a split second when he sees Mac start breathing heavier in reaction to his slow, steady pumps. He spent so much of his life thinking about Dennis’s lips, mesmerized, he raises a hand to Dennis’s jaw. Dragging his thumb over his cheekbone, Mac gently tugs at his bottom lip, opening Dennis’s mouth slightly, Dennis presses a gentle kiss to the pad of Mac’s thumb. So soft it should be illegal, he shouldn’t be allowed to do that while straddling his friend’s thighs and jerking him off. Mac’s other hand holds firmly in Dennis’s hair, pulling him forward into a nose-breakingly hard kiss, pulling his hair harder than strictly necessary in a way that has Dennis moaning softly and breathing harder.

“Fucking, God, Jesus,” Mac breathed in the small gaps between their kisses.

“That good?” Dennis grins smugly, he already knew the answer.

“Yeah.”

Dennis pulls away, sitting back on his heels for a moment, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair.

“Heyーc’mon man,” Mac complains at the loss of touch. Catching his breath, he leans back towards the headboard.

“Oh, shut up.” He hadn’t resuming the previous speed of before, his hand was just ghosting over Mac, teasingly gentile. Dennis brought his lips to the side of Mac’s neck leaving marks he knows will be there tomorrow, sucking hard on the sensitive skin there like he was a vampire. The thought makes Mac laugh. “What? What are you laughing at?” Dennis’s voice is concerned, he stops stroking Mac completely, leaning back to scan his face.

“Nothing, it’s justーyou’re like a fucking vampire, dude,” Mac’s still giggling a little, rubbing a hand on the side of his neck, the skin’s sore and tender in the best way possible and still wet from Dennis’s spit.

Dennis glares at him, trying hard to keep that serious look before a grin breaks out on his face. “What? No, I’m not.” His smile was vibrant even in the dark. “And don’t call me dude when my hand’s on your dick.” His laugh broke the heavy tension in the room, like whatever was happening now was normal, just the next logical progression of whatever their relationship was before. And maybe it was. Maybe the way they’d been before made this inevitable.

“Whatever, man,” Mac says, knowing saying that would probably annoy Dennis as much as ‘dude’. Dennis pinches his thigh. “Hey!” He protests.

“Shut up, Jesus Christ, do you ever stop talking?” Dennis never gives him a chance to respond, kissing him hard before Mac even had a chance to think of something snarky or sarcastic to say. Usually he knew just what to say to push Dennis’s buttons but the feeling of his tongue in Mac’s mouth made him lose most brain function. And when Dennis starts pumping his cock again, occasionally sliding him thumb over the head, there goes any brain function he had left. Familiar feelings well up inside him deep inside, the edge drawing near.

“Dennis, shit, Jesus, fuck,” Mac groans all in quick succession, trying to get Dennis’s attention and convey the message. “I’m gonnaー” he says, cut off by a moan.

“That’s it, baby boy,” Dennis near whispers, their foreheads pressed together. It was all so painfully happening. “That’s it, come for me.” That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

“God, Dennis,” Mac groans as he comes, spilling onto his stomach and Dennis’s hands. He says both words in the same breath like they’re the same thing. Mac tries to catch his breath, reorient himself, their foreheads still pressed together, breathing in each other’s air. Dennis stroked him for a moment or two longer, stopping before it really starts to hurt, and wiping his hand onto a towel strewn onto a chair near Mac’s bed.

He brings the towel to Mac’s abdomen, looking up to his face, seemingly for permission. All Mac’s limited brain function can think to do is nod. Dennis wipes off his come softly and more carefully than Mac thought he was capable off. For some reason this felt more intimate than when Dennis was jerking him off, or when his tongue was halfway down Dennis’s throat.

When the ash seems to have settled, Mac takes note of how hard Dennis still is, and what kind of best friend would he be to leave him like that? Really, it was only fair to do something to take care of it.

He settles himself on the floor, directly between Dennis’s thighs, pulling off his sweatpants. Dennis’s eyes were dark, carding a hand through Mac’s hair, gently encouraging him forward. Tentatively stroking Dennis’s cock a few, trying to refrain himself from licking his lips. His mouth was fucking watering thinking about putting Dennis’s dick in his mouth, about how long he’s thought of this, how long he’s wanted this.

Mac takes it in his mouth, slowly inching his way down to meet his fist at the base, trying hard not to choke. Dennis’s hand in his hair pulls tighter, pulling Mac further onto his cock until he chokes.

“Shit, shit, sorry,” Dennis says when Mac pulls off, coughing a little.

“Hey, it’s fine, bro,” Mac tries to reassure him, wiping spit off his chin and stroking Dennis’s thigh.

“Don’t callー”

“Don’t call you bro with your dick in my mouth?” Mac cuts him off, taking Dennis back in his mouth before he can reply. It was satisfying to have the final word for once.

It wasn’t long before Dennis’s hands were tight in his hair again, and he was moaning his name like it was some kind of prayer. Probably the first time Dennis had prayed in his life. Mac puts all his effort into doing it right, trying to make it the best blow job he’d given in his fucking life. It wasn’t the longest one he’d given, Dennis seemed to be close already. His jaw was starting to ache but he could never stop, everything he’d wanted since high school seemed to be coming to fruition, he probably would keep going if he got stabbed.

Dennis came with a groan, covering the bottom half of Mac’s face. Dennis takes a few deep breaths before starting to laugh almost, a smile wide on his lips.

“What?” Mac questions.

Dennis grabs Mac by his sore jaw, harder than necessary probably. “You look good like that.” He swipes his thumb across Mac’s cheek.

“Shut up.” Mac’s faces goes red, wiping it off with the towel used previously before letting it fall to the floor somewhere.

His knees click when he stands up, feeling ten years older instantly. Dennis is laying half on his bed, legs still splayed over the side. Mac sits on the edge beside him, falling back to mirror his position.

“So, did you get the answer you were looking for?” His voice sounded raw.

“Yeah,” Dennis answers after a beat. Mac feels like that’s an answer enough and knows that it’s not his place to pry and doesn’t expect Dennis to say anything else. “I’m gay.”

Mac nods, they stare at the ceiling in silence before slowly migrating into bed, pulling back on boxers and sweatpants like it’s no different from other times they’d shared a bed. It was just like the other times, really, except Dennis kissed him again before settling his head on Mac’s chest and an arm around his waist.

The morning came quickly, or more like 10:30am came quickly. When Mac woke up, one of his arms was around Dennis’s waist and they were impossibly close.

The gravity of what happened really set in, last night he knew in the back of his brain there was always the slight possibility that it was some insanely detailed sex dream no matter how much more real it had felt in the moment.

Dennis stirred, taking a deep breath, and opening his eyes. “Hey,” he says, voice rough and sleepy.

“Hey,” Mac answers pulling him closer.

The morning seems to follow the routine of their lives before Dennis had left. When they finally get out of bed an eternity later, Dennis goes to shower and Mac makes a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen.

It’s also so painfully regular, like nothing had changed at all in the past few months. Like Dennis had never left.

When he gets out of the shower, Dennis walks into the kitchen in his old university sweater from the night before and boxers. Mac pours him a cup of coffee, leaving it black like he likes it, that goddamn sociopath.

Everything was normal, except when Dennis took the cup of coffee, he gave him a quick kiss as a thank you. That wasn’t normal yet, per se, but Mac could definitely get used to it.

Read on AO3

#oh shit ive done it again #my writing #mac x dennis #iasip #it's always sunny in philadelphia #so this is a thing now i guess

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mrlnsfrt · 4 years

Text

Better Habits

Background

The Old Testament history of God’s favored people is a record of backsliding and rebellion. They resisted Heaven’s grace, abused their privileges, and slighted their opportunities. (The Great Controversy p. 18).

God’s chosen people repeatedly mocked the messengers of God, despised His words, and scoffed at His prophets. (2 Chronicles 36:16) Yet God revealed Himself to be merciful and gracious, longsuffering, and abounding in goodness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin. (Exodus 34:6-7)

Despite repeated rejections the Lord God of their fathers sent warnings to them by His messengers, rising early and sending them, because He had compassion on His people and His dwelling place. (2 Chronicles 36:15)

When remonstrance, entreaty, and rebuke had failed, He sent to them the best gift of heaven; nay, He poured out all heaven in that one Gift. - The Great Controversy (1911) p. 19

I recently wrote about the birth of Jesus on my post “God With Us”. For three and a half years Jesus, the Lord of light and glory, had gone in and out among His people. He “went about doing good, and healing all that were oppressed of the devil,” binding up the brokenhearted, setting at liberty them that were bound, restoring sight to the blind, causing the lame to walk and the deaf to hear, cleansing the lepers, raising the dead, and preaching the gospel to the poor. Acts 10:38; Luke 4:18; Matthew 11:5.

Sadly Israel turned from her best Friend and only Helper. The pleadings of His love were despised, His counsels spurned, His warnings ridiculed. (ibid)

Jesus said, “But you are not willing to come to Me that you may have life.” (John 5:40)

Jesus summarized the secret for success in 1 John 15:4-5.

4 Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me.

5 “I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing. - John 15:4-5 NKJV

When we fail to develop a habit of remaining in Jesus we are in danger of committing the same mistakes of the Jews in Jesus’ day. We are in danger of claiming to observe rigidly the precepts of God’s law while transgressing all its principles.

As Christians, we regard ourselves as God’s favored people and expect Him to deliver us from our enemies. But could we be slaying our Savior because He reproves our sins? Are we self-righteous, not willing to repent and change our ways, but still expecting salvation? It is easy to look down on the religious leaders of Jesus’ time, but how willing are we to be inconvenienced by Jesus’ teachings? Are we willing to make changes in our lives to live according to His will?

Do you believe it is important for our lives to reflect our values? Should the life of a Christian prioritize God’s will? In other words, should you, as a Christian live according to the light God has already given you?

Do you think God will continue to reveal His truths to you when you refuse to follow what He has already revealed to you? Could your willingness to faithfully follow what God has revealed to you up to this point affect future insights into God’s plan?

Learning about God is not just an intellectual exercise. Our theology ought to have a profound impact on the way we live our lives. Our spiritual wellbeing, our walk with God ought to shape every area of our lives. It is evident in practical life that a healthy body contributes to a clear and healthy mind. We can all agree that the sharper our mind is the easier it becomes for us to distinguish the will of God and the more likely we are to make better decisions. God communicates to us through our minds. So it is not a stretch to believe that a healthier body, will lead to a healthier mind, which will, in turn, contribute to a stronger spiritual life.

Based on this understanding, I strongly believe in avoiding anything that would cloud my judgment. This includes alcoholic beverages (Ephesians 5:18; Proverbs 20:1; 23:31 ) but extends to anything else that would lessen my intellectual abilities.

One way this principle has been described is temperance. There are many similar definitions and understandings of what temperance is. I like the following definition.

“True temperance teaches us to dispense entirely with everything hurtful, and to use judiciously that which is healthful.” (Patriarchs and Prophets, p. 562.)

What I am trying to say is that I strongly believe there is an intimate relationship between the mind and the body. Therefore, to have a strong, well-balanced character, both the mental and the physical powers must be exercised and developed.

3 Main Areas

I have found that my spiritual health hinges on three factors.

Prayer

Bible Study

Personal Relationships

I also see evidence of this reflected in Jesus’ earthly ministry.

Prayer

Jesus would often spend time in prayer

Mark 1:35 In the early morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house, and went away to a secluded place, and was praying there.

Luke 6:12 It was at this time that He went off to the mountain to pray, and He spent the whole night in prayer to God.

Matthew 14:23 After He had sent the crowds away, He went up on the mountain by Himself to pray; and when it was evening, He was there alone.

Luke 3:21 Now when all the people were baptized, Jesus was also baptized, and while He was praying, heaven was opened,

Luke 5:16 But Jesus Himself would often slip away to the wilderness and pray.

Mark 6:46 After bidding them farewell, He left for the mountain to pray.

Bible Study

We don’t read about Jesus studying the Bible but there is evidence that He was very familiar with the Scriptures since He often quotes it. Matthew 4 when Satan tempts Him Jesus replies using the Bible. Matthew 5 during the sermon on the mount “you have heard it said…” Matthew 9:13; 11:10; 13:14-15; 15:4, 8-9 (Here is a website I found helpful.)

Relationships

There is also evidence that Jesus spent time building relationships with people. In Luke 7:33-34 Jesus describes being accused of being “a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!” Evidence of this is also found in Matt 9:10; Luke 15:1-2. Jesus would not have been accused of these things if He had not spent time with tax collectors and sinners. Therefore I believe that in following the example of Jesus we ought to invest in these three areas.

Start with Elimination

I have noticed that overwork/lack of rest, is detrimental to your health, to your emotional health, to your relationships, to your overall productivity and quality of life.

I am not here to add more to your already busy lives, I am here to invite you to carefully edit your life to remove what is detrimental or at best neutral to make room for what is best and even vital.

What are the little things that eat up your time and do not contribute to your overall health and happiness? What would it take for you to remove these things from your life? What would your life look like without these activities?

Grouping Habits Together

Something that I have found helpful in developing new habits is to group them.

Though there is currently some debate over whether willpower is limited or not, most seem to agree that it is easier to tap your willpower early in the morning, after a period of rest, when you are fresh and have not been weighed down by other decisions.

So if I want to make some new habits, the morning is a good place to begin. If one of the habits I want to develop is to get up early, then I can group with it the habit of going to bed earlier. Though these are two habits, they can be grouped to achieve the goal I want. Also related to getting up early and going to be early is the importance of getting enough sleep. Even adults should aim for 8 hours. This will help you in every way, physically, intellectually, emotionally, etc.

Another habit that I tack on to this one is drinking water when I first wake up. Hydration is vital for every bodily function and I have found it to help me get up and stay up, as opposed to dosing right back to sleep.

Begin the Day with Prayer

Once you go to bed early, get your 8 hours of sleep, wake up and drink a tall glass of water spend time in prayer. Even if you went to bed late, had a terrible night, and woke up late, begin your day with prayer.

If you forget everything else I write and remember to begin your day with prayer you will already have a much better year. I believe more prayer to be the answer to everything!

So make this decision, to begin the day with prayer. And please don’t begin by asking. Begin by praising and thanking God. An attitude of gratefulness will bless you. Do not face life from a position of want but rather from a posture of plenty. Expect God to meet your needs and provide for you and face your day expecting God’s blessings even through all the incredible challenges you will face.

And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose. - Romans 8:28

Start your day thanking God for another day to live and to be a blessing to those around you.

Quiet Time

If you don’t schedule it, it won’t happen. Do what you can to carve this time out. Once you begin to experience it I am sure you will want to add more time. Don’t expect to find it. Don’t wonder and wish and hope for it. Schedule it, write it, tell people you’re busy. The text messages emails and phone calls can wait. This is a matter of life and death.

You must spend quiet time daily with God and in the study of His word, the Bible. This is how God will guide you. Prayerful study of the Bible will transform your life, and Satan will do all that he can to make sure you don’t have this time. You will have to make this a priority or it will not happen.

Don’t be too busy for Jesus and the wonderful things He wants to teach you and to reveal to you through the Bible. Prayerfully read the Bible every day. It doesn’t have to be a long text. But please do it prayerfully and thoughtfully.

Relationships

Spend time with people. Put away the screens. Look at someone in the eye.

Ask questions. Listen. Be present.

To fail to do this is to fail to live, to truly live. Connect with others. Life is short. People crave genuine connections. People are more important than whatever is happening on the screens around you.

Below are some other habits I am working on for the new year in case you want to join me.

#life #habits #practical #productivity #Life

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crazedlunatic · 5 years

Text

“I love you.”

“So you’re meeting his family?”

“His dad and one of his three older brothers. His mom and the others won’t be in town until tomorrow.” Nick said, sitting next to Kurt at the table.

“Are you nervous?”

Nick shrugged one shoulder, reaching for a piece of toast. “Not really.”

“You’re not nervous to meet his father and three older brothers? Meaning he’s the baby of the family?” Kurt asked.

“No. I don’t really get nervous about the kind of stuff.” Nick said, tucking his legs underneath him and sitting Indian style on the chair.

“You are something else.” Kurt shook his head.

“They’re either going to like me or they won’t. I don’t know why I should stress about it… I hope they like me.”

“Everybody always loves you.”

“Not everyone.” Nick looked down.

Kurt reached over, running his fingers through Nick’s hair. “What are you thinking about?”

Nick swallowed, not looking up. “Nothing.”

“Don’t think about him, Nick.”

“I can’t help it.” Nick swallowed again. “Sometimes I can’t sleep because I think… about him.”

“How… How bad was it?”

“I just… I’ve never felt so… stupid or insecure or worthless in my life.” Nick blinked rapidly. “Or hideous. N-Nothing was good enough, daddy.”

“He was a bad person.” Kurt said, standing and then leaning down, wrapping his arms around Nick. “He was wrong. You’re very smart, you’re beautiful, and you matter. Don’t let anybody say you don’t. You matter so much.”

“Cody makes me feel like I do.” Nick took a deep breath.

“I really like Cody.” Kurt whispered, stroking Nick’s hair. “Blaine does too. We all do. He’s been so good for you throughout all of this.”

“I think he could be it. The one.” Nick pulled back, looking up at Kurt.

“Really?” Kurt smiled.

“Yeah.” Nick smiled. “Even if that sounds crazy.”

“It doesn’t sound crazy. He brought you back. It’s like before you left most days.”

“Yeah…”

“You have to understand that… that boy wasn’t… Nick, you were abused. You were abused and under stress and… you lost yourself.”

Nick reached up, wiping his eyes that were suddenly teary.

“It’s going to be hard to get over that. Soon it will be easier. It’s only been a little over a year since you got home from recovery.”

Nick nodded, standing as the doorbell rang.

“I love you, baby.” Kurt hugged him tightly.

“I love you too. I might be home before you go to bed. I’m not sure.” Nick sniffed, hugging Kurt back.

“They’re going to love you.” Kurt murmured in his ear before kissing the top of his head.

“Thanks. I’ll see you later.” Nick wiped his eyes and went to open the door.

“What’s wrong?” Cody instantly asked.

“I’m fine.” Nick smiled, kissing his cheek.

“No, really. What happened?”

“I was thinking about Andrew and stuff.”

Cody frowned and pulled Nick into a hug.

“I keep having dreams.”

“Sleep over tonight.” Cody whispered.

“Your family…”

“They’re staying in a hotel.” Cody pulled back, looking him in the eye. “Stay over.”

Nick pulled Cody closer, burying his face in his chest. “Okay.”

…

“Did you tell your dad you were staying over?”

“Yeah. Well, Daddy. He thought it was a good idea… he just said to make sure I eat all of my meals and snacks until I get home.”

“Good.” Cody plopped on his couch next to Nick. “Do you want a snack?”

“Maybe in a bit. I’m still full from dinner.” Nick leaned over, head on Cody’s shoulder.

“You’re so quiet… Are you sure you’re okay? Are you comfortable staying here? I thought it might help, but you can say no. I’ll take you home. Or I can stay with you?”

“No, no, no. It’s fine.” Nick reassured him. “It’s not that… I just feel… sad. I would be starting to move back to UCLA for the spring semester of my second year right now.”

“I’m sorry.” Cody reached up, running a hand down his arm.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to go to NYU next year. I just… Think I aimed too high. I still get really stressed out over things that I shouldn’t get so worried about.”

“You don’t need stress. Wait another semester and see.” Cody said instantly. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I’m having trouble gaining more weight.”

Cody frowned.

“I’m trying to get back to 160 but it feels impossible.”

“Are you at a healthy weight?”

“By BMI is a lot better but I went from 160 to less than 120… I feel like I need to get back up to 160.”

“I think the important thing is being healthier. You’re not working out as much and doing soccer.”

“So it should be easier for me to gain weight.”

“I don’t know. Maybe a big chunk of it was muscle?”

“Maybe. I guess I could call my godfather and ask him later… but I feel like he’ll tell dad.” Nick rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh.

“You’re really stressed, aren’t you?”

“Sorry. I’m done.” Nick clapped his hands together and smiled brightly. “What are we going to do, Parker?”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to see some drawings.”

“Okay. Well, I have a surprise for you.” Cody stood. “I’ll be right back.”

Nick stood, going into the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water while he waited. Of course Cody would never drink water, but he’d taken to buying them for Nick whenever he was over—and he tended to be over every hour of the day that Cody wasn’t interning or in class.

By the time he made it back into the living room, Cody was sitting on the couch with a black notebook in his hands. He looked up, seeming anxious.

“’Sup, dude?” Nick grinned, tightening the top on the bottle and plopping on the couch.

Cody rolled his eyes. “This is a cheap couch. If you hurt yourself, I’ll feel horrible. I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“I think you’re saying I have a big butt.” Nick laughed as he sat the bottle of water on Cody’s coffee table coaster. “Plus, you do it all of the time.”

“if I hurt myself on it, it’s my fault. I bought the thing… and also, shut up. You don’t have a big butt.”

“I thoroughly enjoy the fact that you talk back to me now.” Nick grinned.

“It’s more interesting than me just blushing at everything.” Cody laughed.

“What’s my surprise?” Nick asked curiously, tilting his head.

“It might be lame, but don’t laugh. It will hurt my feelings.” Cody said very seriously, handing him the book. “I kind of made… made you a sketchbook.”

Nick opened it to the first page, looking like a little kid on Christmas.

“It’s some sketches and paintings and notes and doodles. It’s kind of—well, very lame.”

“When did you start this?” Nick asked, hands tracing the drawing on the first page.

“I started the… well, the first day we had the icees in the park. I didn’t know what it would end up being…” Cody admitted sheepishly.

Nick turned a few pages, turning the sketchbook to the side to read a note that was scribbled on it.

I’m in class and I’m thinking about you. I think about you a lot. I want to ask you to do something but I’m afraid you’ll say no.

Nick looked up and smiled. “You would get so flustered whenever I’d come in for my appointments. I know you weren’t doing the signing in, but I could see you back there sorting stuff… obviously, because I always waved.”

“Leave me alone.” Cody laughed. “I’m shy around people I don’t know.”

“I thought you were hot.”

“You’ve said so a few times.” Cody laughed again and took the sketchbook. “You can’t have it yet.”

“Why?” Nick asked, looking highly affronted.

“Because only half of the pages are filled.” Cody gave him a small smile.

“Well can I look at what is filled?”

“If you don’t read the notes with me right here.”

“Oh, I’m reading them.” Nick carefully took the book back, flipping through the pages and giggling every once in a while at a picture or a note.

“Are you going to look at all of them?”

“Shh.” Nick said, not even looking up.

Cody reached up, running his fingers through Nick’s hair and watching him. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Nick looked up quickly, snapping the book shut. “What?”

“I am in love with you.”

“R-Really?”

“I’ve been trying to move slow because I know you don’t need extra stress and that can be stressful, but I can’t hold it in anymore. Nick, I’m in love with you. I don’t remember a time being with you that I haven’t been in love with you. You are all I think about when I wake up and when I go to bed. I want to be around you all the time.”

“Wow.” Nick said, hazel eyes wide.

“You don’t have to say it back.” Cody said quickly. “But I just wanted you to know how I feel about you. I think you’re perfect and I love you.”

“I love you too.” Nick looked into his eyes.

Cody licked his lips nervously and then giggled a bit.

“Stop being so adorable!” Nick laughed, hugging him. “I love you so much. I wish I could spend every minute with you.”

“I’ve almost said it every time I’ve seen you for the last four months.” Cody admitted when Nick pulled away and sat next to him.

Nick leaned over, kissing him. “Then it sounds like you’ve got four months of making up for that, Cody Parker.”

“Are you going to tell your parents? This isn’t going to set you back or anything, right? Or stress you out?” Cody asked nervously.

“Yes, no, and no.” Nick said, looking him in the eyes.

“And you’ll tell me if it ever starts to?”

“Yes.” Nick smiled. “I’ve wanted to tell you since the day I met met you. Not the day you assaulted me because that was rude.”

“Oh God, please stop bringing that up. I still get anxious when I think about it.” Cody covered his face. “Ugh.”

“I wouldn’t have wanted to meet you any other way.” Nick said, very seriously “I love you.”

“I love you too, Nicky.”

#this is actually old #i was bored and work and wrote a lot though #definitely won the award for NOT staying on task today #wbuct drabble #wbuct prompt

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seokkgenie · 6 years

Text

De-stressing [M]

Based on an anon request.

Pairing: Xiumin x Reader

Genre: canon au, smut (phone sex?)

Words: 2.1k

You were the kind of person who avoided calling people unless it was absolutely necessary. You were convinced that the greatest advantage of living as a barely functioning adult in the twenty first century was the phenomena of text messaging.

However, in your current state, you were sure that you wouldn’t have the patience to type out your pain but you needed to rant to someone in order to avoid your brain from combusting into flames due to the sheer stress that you were under.

You dialed the first number on your speed dial, hoping sincerely that he wouldn’t be too busy to talk to you.

To your relief, he picked up after a few rings, “Hey, babe! What’s up? I was just about to text you.”

“I have to ask you a very important question. Think before you answer, alright?” you dove straight into it, making him nervous.

“Okay?” he said, unsure. “What is it?”

“Is it really that important to be able to afford food, clothes, a roof over my head and insurance?” you asked, looking at the mess that you had made in your living room. Papers were lying askew, multiple empty cups previously filled with coffee lined the surface of the table and your laptop had been plugged in to charge for what seemed like hours.

“Umm, I think so?” he said, a little relieved that you didn’t have a serious question, but were just being silly as usual. “Pretty sure you need all that to survive.”

You groaned. “Great, so I can’t quit my stupid job? You asked.

“You love your job.” He stated and you pouted.

“But, I hate the new manager!” you started your rant.

“I’m all ears.” Your boyfriend replied, completely accustomed to often hearing you whine about your problems to him, having known you for over a year.

“Okay, so, there’s this new client that hired us a few days back. They’re a big deal in the soap industry, so-“

He cut you off with a small laugh, “Soap?”

“Yeah, soap.” You said, rolling your eyes, “You were supposed to listen to me!”

“Sorry,” he apologized, still laughing, “Go on.”

“Where was I?” you tried to regain your train of thought, “Oh yes! This is going to be a nationwide advertising campaign. They want us to handle all the media promotions-tv, radio, print-the whole deal. This is a good thing, I know. We’ll get a raise if this goes well.”

“What’s the problem, then?” he asked. You could hear voices around him, and you knew that he was still at work, probably on a short break from practice.

“Well, the new manager is a total dickhead. He made me in charge of the account AND the presentation that had to be given to the client about the campaign ideas.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’m already swarmed with the fast food joint commercial, the quarterly appraisal and I’m just so fucking done with this.”

“I understand,” he said, “Sometimes it can become too much, even if you love doing it.”

“I used to love the creative part of this profession, which is why I took it up in the first place, but now I can’t concentrate on anything, nor am I able to come up with any ideas. The team did this brainstorming session, but I have to compile all the ideas and come up with a sold plan.” You said, putting the laptop on the floor next to you and getting up to sit on the couch.

“Why are you doing this alone?” he asked.

“Because my boss is an asshole!” you yelled into the phone. “Help me, Minseok!” you say, exasperated. “My mind is completely blank but at the same time it’s a mess. Does that even make sense?!”

“Woah, babe, just calm down!” he said, and you heard someone calling his name and you sighed.

“You’re probably busy, I shouldn’t be bothering you.” You state.

“No, that was just Jongdae forcing me to go shopping with him, secretly hoping that I’ll buy him things.” He said, “I told him to fuck off because my girlfriend needs me right now.”

You laughed, “Tell Jongdae I said sorry.” You were so glad that you could hear Minseok’s voice. It always calmed you down. You always hesitated to video call each other because, he would always be surrounded by staff. “God, I wish you were here.”

“Me too, love.” He replied, “Wait, hold on, these idiots I call my members are being too fucking loud. I’m going to go to a quieter place.” You agreed to that and even as he moved away you could hear Baekhyun and Chanyeol yelling about something. You put the call on speaker as you waited ad pacing it next to you on the handle of the sofa.

“Still there?” he asked after a few seconds and you hum a yes in response. “Okay, listen, y/n. It’s normal to feel like this sometimes, trust me.”

“I’m just so worried that I won’t get shit done on time.” You said, your voice low with laced consternation. “What do I do~~!” you asked, burying your face in your hands.

“I think you need to take a short break. Destress, maybe. It’ll help you think straight afterwards.” He suggested and your ears perked up.

“What kind of distressing?” you asked, intrigued.

“It would be easier to show you if I were there.” You could almost hear the smirk in his tone.

You hadn’t been thinking about sex or about how much you missed him, but his suggestive tone definitely got you interested. “Well, too bad.”

“Babe, do you remember the night before I left?”

A wave of excitement passed through your body just thinking about that night. You both had been aware of the fact that he would be gone for quite a while, which meant that the sex would have to wait for quite a while too.

“Yeah.” You replied, gulping.

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had.” He said, and then added, “You’re really good, you know that?”

You didn’t exactly have a praise kink, but it didn’t hurt to hear that once in a while, especially from someone who was as attractive and desirable as Minseok.

You didn’t reply, and you could hear him breathing loudly in the silence that followed.

He said in a softer voice, “I’m already hard thinking about it.”

Your eyes widened at his confession, and you could feel a dull throbbing in your core, arousal pooling under your sweats. “it’s a good thing I came into an empty room.”

“W-why?” you breathed out, although you sort of knew the answer to that question.

“Because, y/n, I don’t want to get caught with my dick in my hand, getting off at just the thought of my beautiful girlfriend’s pussy.”

“Minseok!” you yelled, not expecting him to be so explicit. You were never good with the dirty talk, it always made you blush uncontrollably and left you awkward and speechless.

“I missed hearing you yell my name like that.” His breaths became more unsteady and just the image of him touching himself hearing your voice and thinking about you made your core ache. You bit your lip, contemplating if you should go ahead with what your body really wanted at this time.

You heard him moan softly, and that was the last straw. You put your hand down your sweats and began stroking yourself. Your breathing became very shallow, just like his and you felt like the room’s temperature had gone up by a few degrees.

Minseok seemed to catch on. “You aren’t wearing any panties right now, are you?” He knew you really well and was aware of the fact that you preferred to forego wearing any undergarments at home, especially when you were alone.

“No” you replied.

“Are you touching yourself?” he asked, and you had to bite your lip from the moan that was about to escape your mouth as a response. You were rubbing your clit roughly, jolts of pleasure running through your body.

“Hmmm” you hummed a response, unable to formulate words.

“Oh, shit,” you heard him curse. “Babe, how wet are you?”

You moved away your fingers for a second, taking a deep breath and deciding to let the desire do all the dirty talking that you weren’t sure you had in you.

“Wet enough that I’ll have to clean the couch later on.” You scoffed at your lame attempt and tried again, ‘Actually if you were here, I’d be dripping from the side of your chin.”

You closed your eyes, blushing.

You weren’t sure if you had underestimated yourself or if your boyfriend had really low expectations when it came to dirty talk, but he seemed to like what you had said. “Don’t stop touching yourself” he said, almost like it was an order.

You weren’t going to refuse, seeing as it would most definitely play to your advantage. You resumed your action on your clit, not bothering to silence the moan that escaped and concentrated on pleasuring yourself.

As soon as the sounds were elicited from your mouth, you could swear you heard the way in which his hands moved along his cock, the speed increasing. The sound reminded of you the last time he was with you, inside you. He hadn’t needed his hands that time, the slick noises had filled the room with each thrust of his dick. Your desire grew tenfold, and you closed your eyes, soaking in the sensation.

“Babe,” he breathed out, “Lick your fingers and put them in like I would.”

Your eyes popped open, wide with surprise, but also with anticipation. Your heart was about to beat out of your chest, and waiting for gratification became more difficult.

You did as he asked, putting your index and middle fingers in your mouth, wetting them and after just a millisecond of hesitation, you pushed them into your slit, moaning again at the stretch.

You started slow, pushing in and out, trying to get used to the feeling of your fingers inside you, and then you slowly increased the pace to a steady rhythm.

You moved the phone closer with your free hand, not even thinking about what you were doing or saying anymore, “Can you hear it?” you asked, trying to be more rough in the way you pushed your digits in and out, the room filled with the sound of the squelching juices.

“Fuck,” he cursed, “You’re so fucking hot.”

He continued, “Curl your fingers and go as deep as you can.”

“Minseok,” you whimpered. As your digits curled, hitting your g-spot with every push.

Your free hand reached down to rub gentle circles on your clit, increasing your bliss.

“God, I can’t wait for your mouth to be around my dick.” He stated, and you hummed in agreement.

You couldn’t help the string of curses that left your mouth as you felt heat building your abdomen. You could feel the pleasure building rapidly, ready to burst and you said, “I’m gonna cum! Holy shit, Minseok, I-“

Your screams were cut off by his own, and you heard his moan as he reached his high, the thought of that making you reach your own. Your feet dug into the ground, and you lifted your hips involuntarily as euphoria took over your body. You rode out the orgasm, moaning his name and hearing him make sounds that sounded liked heaven to your ears.

You pulled your fingers out, panting and lying on your couch, looking up at the ceiling.

Minseok spoke, clearing his throat, “How do you feel?”

You answered quickly, “I feel great.”

He replied, “Great enough to not want to quit your job?”

Honestly, you had forgotten about your predicament while he was helping you de-stress. You groaned at the thought of having to go back to your workload, but surprisingly, you felt like you could handle it if you gave it some sincere thought.

“You’re sly,” you said, your mouth curling up into a smile.

“Did you mean, smart?” he asked, rhetorically.

“Okay, Dr Kim,” you started sarcastically, rolling your eyes, “I should probably get back to my work and you should too.” You said, sitting infront of your laptop once again. You decided to clean up yourself and the couch before getting back to formulating a new ad campaign. “After I clean up this mess” you muttered.

He laughed, “I didn’t know you could talk dirty, babe.” He added, “I’m impressed, I gotta say!”

‘Don’t sound so surprised!” you said, pouting at his words.

“You were always so vanilla,” he mused and you wanted to chastise him, taking offense even though he wasn’t completely wrong.

“Well,” you started, with a smirk. “Why don’t you come back home so I can show you just how kinky I can be.”

He laughed, and said “Cute.” You couldn’t help but laugh along at how unnatural the words sounded when it came out of your mouth.

Maybe the really kinky stuff had to wait until you get mind-numbingly stressed out again.

Masterlist

#exo imagine #exo smut #kwriterskollection #xiumin smut #xiumin imagine #minseok imagine #minseok smut #kim minseok #exo xiumin #exo kim minseok #exo minseok #kpop imagine #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #exo x reader #exo #fanfic

174 notes · View notes

mymelodyheart · 3 years

Text

Forget Me Not Chapter 11 ~Uncertainty and Mortality~

Claire could barely see through tears rapidly welling up in her eyes. She prayed they wouldn't fall, afraid to show the world she was affected by some measly string of words contrived to deliberately hurt her.

If I had a face like yours, my parents would die of shock too.

With trembling hands, she folded the offensive note that was left on top of her schoolbooks and slipped it in her skirt pocket. This was not the first time it happened, and she knew it wouldn't be the last. Hell would have to freeze a thousand times over before she showed them how upset she was. Straightening her spine and swallowing a golf ball-sized lump in her throat, she sat down and focused on the class that was about to commence. Her herculean effort to hold back the tears was tested further when she overheard a sniggering group taunting her in whispers. They jeered in hurtful undertones, with words that were so wounding that often times she wished she had died with her parents.

Stubbornness prevented her from crying though, afraid Jamie would notice and come swooping in to save the day. That's what he always did. He was a fixer and a caretaker, and she couldn't let him muscle in and assert himself as her repairman. No, I can't have that. Of course, he would still clock something was up, but without the evidence of tears, the subject was easier dropped.

I don't need fixing. If other people have a problem with me, it was my cross to bear. The Frasers have done more than enough, and I don't need them fighting my battles.

..........

She should be used to this by now. They're only words, and words can't hurt her unless she allowed it. You aren't those words. You aren't the shouts and names. You aren't the awful things spat at you like flavourless gum. Get a grip, Beauchamp!

Leaning back on her chair as she stared into the laptop screen, Claire let out a massive sigh of relief. There had been no nasty messages waiting for her in the Facebook inbox neither was there any hints of disapproval in the comments' box when Jamie announced on Social Media that they were together. The picture he posted of them spoke volumes of his possessiveness - they were locked in an embrace, while she looked straight to the camera, with his forehead pressed against her jawline, face slightly turned, revealing only an eye and an upturned mouth that said, My Girl. Although he posted their relationship status a few days ago, the congratulatory comments kept coming, and Claire had been holding her breath waiting for some smart ass remark. But there were none, much to her surprise.

Respite from the vile messages she received almost regularly, didn't detract her from feeling slightly apprehensive at the thought of Jamie bringing Annalise to Lallybroch. Even when pangs of jealousy sliced through her insides mercilessly, her conscience couldn't bear the idea of his ex-girlfriend being left alone in her condition. Compared to Annalise, she had been fortunate to have been raised by a loving family, and she couldn't deny her wish to not be alone when she was given the death sentence, cancer. It was a big ask, but Claire thought it was a plea of a dying, desperate woman.

Jamie had wanted her say in the matter, but they both knew the answer already. Brian and Ellen had raised them to always do the right thing and to never shirk from responsibility, and that had been drummed into their upbringing so incessantly that sometimes little sacrifices were made.

Her thoughts drifted back once again to Annalise. Although they had the same tragic start to childhood, the similarities didn't end there. According to Jamie, Annalise had always felt she was an outsider and never really fitted in. The fact that she had no one around her at her lowest point in life substantiated that story. Maybe Jamie is drawn to women he thinks need saving and protecting? I'm in a good place in life now, and perhaps I would lose that appeal once he realised I don't need safeguarding. Shaking herself, she pushed those thoughts away, reprimanding herself for being melodramatic, a trait that seemed to be trending in her emotions lately.

Claire had just finished going through the menu plans for the grand re-opening of The Fraser Manor Inn when Willie's car screeched to a stop outside the house on the gravelled driveway. He had agreed to take her to Lallybroch after running errands. Declining to go with him earlier to the airport to pick up Jamie and Annalise, she had opted to see them in Lallybroch instead later in the day. I need to go through the food stock and beverage inventory for the restaurant. The excuse had sounded lame to her ears, but deep down, she knew she was delaying the inevitable - meeting Jamie's ex-girlfriend. What am I anxious about? Jamie is a solid guy...as solid as solid go and how often had he said he loves me? Yeah, a round of applause Beauchamp, for daring to exercise rational thinking.

Annoyed with herself, she stuffed her laptop and phone in her satchel, before taking a quick glance over of her reflection in the hallway mirror. She was wearing a creamy sweater over a white shirt, tight black jeans and weathered heavy Wellington boots - ideal for the cold and blustery day. A few times, prior, she had considered changing her outfit, perhaps with an afterthought of making an effort for Jamie or show-offing to Annalise. But in the end, practicality won the day when the weather proved to be too cold for a dress.

Once outside, she ran to Willie's waiting car and flung the door open. Clumsily she threw her satchel in before plopping into the passenger seat. "Hey, you...God, it's bloody freezing! Thank you for giving me a lift." Shivering, she rubbed her hands together for warmth before offering them to Willie to rub in his bigger ones and blow his breath into, an old habit they have shared from the past.

Instead of taking her hands, Willie started the car and pulled out of the driveaway. "Place them under yer thighs. They'll warm up quicker there," he grunted as he turned the heater up a notch, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

"Oh," she shrugged, arching an eyebrow. "Grumpy much?" She wanted so much to know what he thought of Annalise but instead settled back on her seat and waited. Willie had not been himself lately, and she had put it down to the build-up of the re-opening of the hotel.

Letting out a huge sigh, he reached out to squeeze her hand. "I haven't had much sleep."

"I hope it's just lack of sleep, Willie. You've been acting really weird on me these past few days, and I don't like it. One minute you want to talk to me and the next minute you're avoiding me." Claire had been noticing recently, how he flinches a lot every time she was near and wondered what she had done wrong. "I hope it has nothing to do with my new deodorant." She slapped her knee and laughed as she realised she had spoken her thoughts out loud.

Willie didn't laugh. "Would it bother ye?" he asked in a clipped tone.

"Would it bother me what?" she asked, confusion swarming her brain.

"If I avoided ye," he replied, hitting the blinker before he turned right on the road.

"Of course, it would bother me, you silly goose," she said as she rummaged into her satchel, to take out a granola bar.

"Why?"

"Because I love you." She took a bite and offered her snack to Willie with an outstretched hand.

He shook his head at the offering, sparing her only a quick glance. "Ditto."

"Ditto, what the fuck is that?" she asked in a muffled voice, chewing vigorously and glaring at him. Claire knew what the word meant, but this weird Willie vibe thing was beginning to annoy her. He usually would have said I love you back.

Willie ignored the question. "Any unpleasant messages lately?"

"None of your business," she snapped, shoving her bag at her feet.

"I guess I deserved that." This time he laughed, probably an effort to lighten the heavy mood he created. "Now who's grumpy?"

"I'm not grumpy, I'm just annoyed at you. You know what...you really ought to get a life. Maybe it would improve your morose mood...like go on a date, meet a girl....that sort of thing." Claire sat back thoughtfully, processing her internal RAM before continuing. "God, I can't remember a time when you had a girlfriend. I know you did because I can remember a girl vaguely, but that must have been ages ago." She glanced at his profile and saw his throat bob up and down.

"That's hospitality industry for ye...nae time for romance." He slowed down the car as he approached a smaller road leading to Lallybroch.

"Utter shite and you know that! How about Geillis?" Claire said without missing a beat, her eyes lighting up. "She's single, available and she'll understand the long hours working in a hotel,"

"Nah, she's a nice lass but too brash for my taste." He pressed the inside of his cheek with his tongue in an attempt to suppress a burst of laughter.

Claire snorted out loud. She had to agree with Willie on this one that her friend is too cocksure for her own good. "You do know we have some new staff employed in the hotel. Surely, there's bound to be one that meets your discerning taste. But either way, go out there and find your special someone. You deserve that."

He didn't answer, and Claire left it at that, driving in silence for a while. She had been quite sure there was an attraction between Geillis and Willie from the moment they met, but today she wasn't in the mood to play matchmaker nor pry more into Willie's love life. Not for now, at least. There were other pressing matters such as Annalise and her own new relationship with Jamie.

As they pulled up at Lallybroch's driveway, Willie gave her a wink as he glanced at her. "Hey, I'll probably take yer advice and go out on a date, if that makes ye happy and me less dour."

"Good for you, you owe it to yourself. But...umm..." She went silent for a moment thinking Willie hadn't mentioned Jamie nor Annalise. "Willie...what do you think of Annalise? I don't mean to sound like a jealous nag, but I want to know from a man's perspective...do you find her pretty?"

Willie drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, contemplating his answer earnestly. "Honestly...what did you call it again? Aye, my discerning taste. My discerning taste thinks ye are prettier."

"Of course, you'll say that. Why did I even bother asking?" She pulled the satchel from her feet and hitched it over on her shoulder. "You coming in?"

"Aye, but I need to make a few phone calls. Ye go ahead and save a scone for me." Before she could get out of the car, he stopped her. "Claire?"

"Yeah?"

"I love ye."

Claire smiled. "Ditto."

Walking up to the house, she couldn't help but think how much Willie, looked like Jamie when he said I love you.

..........

She was about to open the entrance door when it was unceremoniously flung opened, and Jamie grabbed her wrist. She let out a squeak as he dragged her inside, slinging his forearm against her arse to draw her up onto her toes. Smiling and without saying a word, he walked her back towards the wall of the hallway, his beautiful soul-sucking blue looking intently into her eyes. Tangling a hand in Claire's hair, he tongued her lips open, laughing softly when she gasped, before sinking them both to a kiss. Slowly, Jamie moulded their bodies together against the wall, his lips travelling along her jawline before nuzzling her ear. "Hmm, I was expecting my girlfriend to meet me at the airport this morning. I wonder what kept her away?" He pulled back an inch to tuck her hair behind her ear. "So what's happening inside that pretty head of yers?"

Whatever doubts and worries she had, they had all dissipated. "Oh, this and that," she breathed, as she did a mental replay of their Facetime boogie from the other night, sending a kerfuffle of hormones ricochetting in her belly. "Sorry I couldn't be there to see you. I have been busy with work, you know... menus and stuff, and sourcing new vendors for some of the new dishes. Did you know there's a convention booked already a week after the re-opening?" she whispered, running her palms on his abdomen. It wasn't a lie; nevertheless, it was a good excuse, giving her enough time to sort out her thoughts before meeting Annalise.

"I guess I have loads of catching up to do, aye?" he laughed, but the laughter quickly faded away as he searched her face. As if reading her thoughts, which was eerily most of the time, he lifted her chin with his index finger to look into her eyes. "Sassenach, ye have nothing to worry about Annalise, I hope ye know that." He ran his fingers along the seams of her mouth before brushing his lips against hers. "Christ, all I could think about is ye while I was in Paris to a point I was incapable of doing what I was supposed to do. I ken she was my girlfriend, and I can't change that...I can't change the past. I have to believe that sometimes things happen for a reason and that maybe, she was put into our paths so that we can help her. I'm not going to lie...I did care for her, but I didn't love her like the way I do ye. Ye have to trust that."

Claire gave a sharp exhale. There was no more avoiding the subject. "I know, Jamie and that's what I love most about you...you're kind and compassionate that way. See...this relationship thing...I'm already sucking at it. I didn't even know that meeting you at the airport is a boyfriend-girlfriend thing."

Unable to subdue his grin, Jamie caught her full lower lip between his teeth and tugged. "Let's see...ye can make it up for me later, perhaps? In our house? I ken your place is more comfortable, but I don't think I want Geillis hearing all the sounds that you make when I make love to ye."

Her heart started to sprint. "Oh! Our house is it? And you know, you do talk a lot of rubbish...I hardly make any sounds," she giggled.

"Aye, it's our house, and aye, ye do make a lot of sounds. Plenty of adorable sounds, like this..." With a wink, he gave her a look of debauchery, sliding one arm beneath her arse to boost her up and one free hand palming her breast. He chuckled under his breath when she let out a moan. "...and I haven't even started yet."

Her gulp was audible as crimson climbed up her throat, and not really wanting to, she gently pushed him away. "Jamie put me down now. Ma and da can walk in on us any minute." She could hear voices in the kitchen and teacups clacking on saucers. "Let's go meet your other bird, huh?" Best get it over and done with.

Smiling, he allowed his head to collapse on the crook of her neck, heavily breathing in her scent. "Aye...can't be helped. Missed ye so bad, Sassenach," he murmured huskily, lightly fisting his hand on the wall above Claire's head. Pressing his lips against her forehead, he half-heartedly stood upright, not quite ready to let her go yet. "Right, are we good?"

She nodded and took his hand as Jamie guided her towards the staircase. "So what did ma and da say? Have they met Annalise?"

"Aye, they've met over breakfast. Ye ken what they're like, the house is open to anybody and everybody. I haven't really spoken to them yet as I was too preoccupied looking out the window waiting for ye to arrive," he said in an amused tone.

"Why are we heading upstairs? I thought she was in the kitchen," she asked, looking towards the kitchen they passed.

"She was exhausted earlier and needed to lie down. She must be awake now, but I dinna ken which room she took. Ma did say to take her pick of the empty rooms."

"She's probably in Geillis' room," Claire mumbled, pulling her hand away from Jamie's to smooth back her hair.

"Hey..." Halfway up the stairs, he turned to face her, reaching out to gently rubbed the pad of his thumb on her cheeks. "...just saying, ok? If there's anything troubling ye, anything at all, ye ken ye can talk to me, aye? We're together now, and ye best get used to it, really fast." He leaned forward to rub his nose against hers. "It's a boyfriend-girlfriend thing, ye ken... in case ye didn't get the memo." He winked, before taking her hand once again in his and pulling her up the stairs.

"Yeah, got it!" she replied but stopped on her tracks when they reached the landing. Further down the hallway, she saw her books neatly stacked outside her old room, and on top of the pile was her dreamcatcher which use to hang above her bed. It was a gift from her uncle Lamb's friend. "Oh, I guess she's not taking the guest room."

Jamie squeezed her shoulders, obviously surprised as her. "Och, sorry Sassenach, I didnae realised. Dinna fash, I'll tell her to use the other room, and I'll put back the books on your shelves..."

Claire grabbed his arm. "No, Jamie, it's alright. I have a place of my own now, and really, it's silly to keep a room here when I don't really need it. She can have it."

"Are ye sure? It shouldn't take a few minutes and.."

"Positive," she reaffirmed, making her way to her old room. At the doorway, she squared her shoulder and gently knocked on the door, almost forgetting Jamie was stood behind her.

"Come in," a light, melodic voice with French accent answered.

Nudging the door, she let herself in to come face to face with Jamie's ex, sat on her old dressing table. Grudgingly Claire had to admit to herself, Annalise was breathtakingly beautiful, and the lack of hair didn't diminish that beauty. In fact, it enhanced her big cornflower blue eyes and delicately shaped eyebrows. With the sunlight streaming from the window behind her, she looked like an angel, dressed in her... what? Claire's eyes widened when she realised, Annalise was wearing her green wrap-around dress. "Oh, hi...I'm Claire," she said warmly as she stepped forward to shake her hand.

Instead of taking her hand, Annalise stood up and gave her a tight hug and Claire couldn't help but notice, Jamie's ex was wearing the same perfume as her. "So lovely to finally meet you, Claire. I have been so much looking forward to this," she gushed, her voice so soft, it reminded her of a child's. Returning to her chair, she gestured towards the bed. "Please, take a seat." Pausing, she smiled sweetly. "I only realised recently that you and Jamie are together. I would have never guessed as he spoke so fondly and so much of you that he gave me an impression you were siblings. Well, congratulations are in order...both of you make a perfect couple."

Jamie coughed a thank you , and Claire, instead of sitting down, glanced around her old room, noticing some visible changes had taken place already. Her poster of the world map was taken down for one. "Thank you. I see you've made yourself at home, and that dress looks lovely on you."

"Oh..." Annalise looked down, her expression changing into mortification. "I'm so sorry, Claire. I was making room in the wardrobe, and I saw this hanging. It's so pretty that I had to try it on. I'll take it off now..."

"No, it's alright, really. Keep it, it's yours. The dress becomes you, and I haven't worn it in ages. I will take the rest of my things now, so you have more room. The sooner you're settled, the better." Claire knew she was rambling, but she felt she needed to move.

"There's no rush, Claire but if you must I can help you..." Annalise's voice trailed off as Claire dismissed her suggestion with a wave of a hand, picking up the rest of the things to place in an empty box that was already there. Shrugging her delicate shoulders, Annalise turned her attention to Jamie. "Jamie, is it tomorrow you're taking me to see the doctor?"

"Och aye...we need to sort out yer papers at the NHS and register ye as a resident," Jamie started, one hand massaging the back of his neck.

Claire suddenly felt sorry for him being in such an awkward situation that she mentally admonished herself for pointing out the dress Annalise was wearing.

"I'll take her." It was Willie standing at the door, both his hands resting on the doorjamb. They haven't heard him walking on the creaky floorboards that they were all surprised to see him stood there. "Jamie, ye're needed in the kitchen to sort out your department in the Pattiserrie, and Murtagh needs to go over the dessert menu for a la carte with ye."

"Weel, I can do all those things tomorrow and take Annalise..."

"I'm going to drop off some papers to Ned Gowan tomorrow, and it's on the way to the Doctor's," Willie explained as a matter of factly. Turning his attention to Annalise, he smiled. "Prepare yer documents, passport and doctors' diagnosis for tomorrow. We'll need every scrap of those papers to register ye here." With that, Willie didn't wait for a reply and simply offered a perfunctory nod and turned on his heels and left.

"What the hell...hang on a minute. Ye can't just..." Jamie was already out the door following his older brother, leaving the two women to stare at each other in bewilderment.

"What just happened?" Annalise whispered, her one hand on her mouth.

"Brothers...that's what happened," Claire replied, shrugging her shoulders as she resumed gathering the last of her knick-knacks strewn in her old room. "Both stubborn as a bull, ye ken..." she explained in her best Scottish mimick.

#melodyheart #forgetmenot #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

0 notes

anotherinternettrash · 6 years

Text

Prompts

Angst

“Not you again.. ”

“Leave me alone. ”

“I don’t love you anymore. ”

“Why do you hate me? ”

“I thought you loved me. ”

“I don’t need you anymore. ”

“I can’t believe you! ”

“We cant keep this up forever. ”

“You’re a monster. ”

“I hate you. ”

“Don’t leave me… ”

“You’re a disappointment. ”

“Don’t die on me– Please. ”

“I never meant to hurt you. ”

“Are you upset with me? ”

“I wish I’d never met you. ”

“I’m going to kill you! ”

“Please don’t hurt me like this. ”

“Thanks for nothing. ”

“Give me a chance ”

“Don't call this number again. “

“Why did you spare me? ”

“You need to leave. ”

“I’m sick. ”

“I’m dying. ”

“I wish I’d never met you. ”

“I thought we were family!”

“There was never an us. ”

“So that’s it? Is it over? ”

“I fucked up. ”

“I came to say goodbye. ”

“He’s dead because of you. ”

“I don’t deserve to be loved. ”

“About the baby… It's yours. ”

Love:

“I’m so in love with you. ”

“Dance with me! ”

“Isn’t this amazing? ”

“I wish we could stay like this forever. ”

“Will you marry me? ”

“I need a hug. ”

“You’re special to me. ”

“I’m going to keep you safe. ”

“Do you trust me? ”

“Can I kiss you right now? ”

“You’re cute when you’re angry. ”

“I’ve liked you for a while now. ”

“We’d make such a cute couple. ”

“I want to take care of you. ”

“Can we cuddle? ”

“It’s lonely here without you. ”

“I can’t stand the thought of losing you. ”

“Shut up and kiss me already. ”

“Are you flirting with me? ”

“Is that my shirt? ”

“How did we get here? ”

“You own my heart. ”

“I want to protect you. ”

“Whats the matter? ”

“You’re so beautiful. ”

“Stop being so cute. ”

“You’re teasing me again… ”

“This is why I fell in love with you. ”

“You’re the best! ”

“They’re going to love you, don’t worry! ”

“Oh, Are you ticklish? ”

“Of course I remembered! ”

“Are you jealous? ”

“Hold me and never let me go. ”

“Stop hogging all the blankets! ”

“Let's run away together. ”

General:

“I’m fine. ”

“Are you drunk? ”

“Are you high? ”

“We cant go in there… ”

“Give it back! ”

“Well, this is just great. ”

“Don’t touch me. ”

“Not sure if you could tell, but I’m not exactly a people person. ”

“This was fun— Let's do it again sometime!”

“I didn’t do it! ”

“I did it… ”

“I don’t remember that! ”

“Well, that’s pretty rude of you to say. ”

“Get that thing away from me! ”

“You owe me. ”

“Do you believe in aliens? ”

“Do you believe in ghosts? ”

“Are you hitting on me? ”

“Why are you naked? ”

“You did what?! ”

“You have… Superpowers? ”

“Why are you bleeding? ”

“Where did all these puppies come from?”

“Don’t make me come over there myself! ”

“That wasn’t funny. ”

“This tastes horrible. ”

“This is delicious! ”

“Are you mad at me? ”

“Stop ignoring me… ”

“I love that show too! ”

“Can I borrow that book of yours?”

“Let's blow this joint. ”

“Let me help you with that. ”

“Take that back! ”

“Wanna go see a movie with me? ”

“No way, that’s so lame. ”

“What are you listening to? ”

“ I brought you your coffee. ”

“Don’t fuck this up. ”

“Run! ”

“Let's run away together. ”

“I haven’t slept in four days… ”

“Your turn to do the dishes. ”

“Was I really that drunk? ”

“Was I really that stoned? ”

“Give me back my phone! ”

“You’re an asshole. ”

“Are you cold? ”

“This place gives me the creeps. ”

“I swear my house is haunted. ”

“Did you hear that? ”

“It’s just your imagination. ”

“Just how stupid do you think I am? ”

“Stop being such a baby. ”

“Go back to bed. ”

“Are you okay? ”

“I can take care of myself just fine.”

“Thanks for helping me back there. ”

“Since when have we ever been friends? ”

“What on earth are you wearing? ”

“I can’t feel my legs! ”

“Stop texting me weird stuff so late at night. ”

“Put me down! ”

“There’s only one bed… ”

“It isn’t what it looks like! Okay.. Maybe it is… ”

“How did I lose it? ”

“I read your diary. ”

“This is awkward. ”

“Didn’t you read the sign? ”

“Do you think you can teach me that? ”

Below is NSFW prompts. Sexual:

“Bite me.”

“Make me.”

“Fuck me.”

“Stop teasing me so much… ”

“Do you like it when I touch you like that?”

“Okay... This is new. ”

“Want to head back to my place and have a little fun? ”

“You’re in trouble now. ”

“What a pretty sight. ”

“Bend over. ”

“On your knees. ”

“The food looks great but... There’s something much more delicious I’d like to eat right now.

“Lay back. ”

“Take off your clothes. ”

“Well, fine; just this once. ”

“I’m waiting. ”

“You’re so beautiful. ”

“As you wish. ”

“First one to make a noise loses.”

“You have no idea what you do to me. ”

“If you’re bored; Wanna have sex? ”

“I've wanted this for so long. ”

“Car sex looks so much easier in the movies. ”

“Can I touch you? ”

“No strings attached. ”

“Already? Do I really have that much of an effect on you? ”

“Mine. ”

“The nights still young. ”

“We cant do that here! ”

“Behave. ”

“What did you just say?

“Come here. ”

Random ones I had in a draft (i dont know where they are from)

“Stop moaning you big baby”

“Stop winking”

“Why did you have to be a smart person?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me”

“Why the hell are you drinking. At this hour?”

“Take. A. God. Damn. Break.”

“Shit, I'm sorry”

“How did you manage to be this stupid?”

“Your hair is so soft”

“Sorry. I just got lost in your eye’s”

“What are you writing about?”

“I love you”

“Is that my t-shirt?”

“Please don’t leave me”

“Please say something…”

“That's a stupid rule”

“How are you so pretty?”

“What the fuck?”

“You wanna go!?”

“Even the best fall down sometimes”

“You and i. We’ll be alright”

“What are you even saying?”

“Do that again”

“Please don’t”

“Hold me back!?”

“Oh its on”

“How are you so tall?”

“Not in that drawer!!”

“Don't touch that”

“I'm always going to be here”

“Help me up asshole”

“I'll show you where my shoe fits!

“Don't tell me to shut up”

“Don't dare touch me.”

“Could you kindly get the fuck away from me for a moment!?”

“Don't you know how to clean?”

“Why so flirty all of a sudden?”

“Is that the best you can do?”

“Don't you dare throw that snowball-OKAY THATS IT!”

“I'm a little drunk on you”

“I touched the butt…”

“It's too cold! Come back”

“No. I'm not letting you go. It's too early to get up”

“C'mere, you can sit in my lap till I'm done working”

“I'm not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention”

“Just pretend to be my date”

“I think I'm in love with you. And I'm absolutely terrified”

“Your lips are so soft. I could kiss them all day”

“It's not bad to cry. In fact, i think it makes a person stronger”

“I remember practising asking you out in the mirrior..”

“Let’s just stay in bed”

“We live together, you can’t blame anyone else for this.”

“I want to marry you”

“I want to take a shower so you should probably join me. It’ll save water”

“You lost your chance.”

“Don't look at me like that”

“Pack your shit and go. Get out of my sight.”

“I don't want to live in a broken home.”

“I cant do this anymore. Not with you.”

“I tried to move on but nobody is you.”

“Please take me back.”

“Maybe I'm meant to be alone.”

“I fell like everyone has forgotten me. Like I don't exist.”

“I've been alone for so long…”

“I can’t belive you’d do this to me.”

“What about me!? Did you ever think of that?!”

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

“I'm going to skip the "how?” And “why?” And go straight to your cleaning this up.“

“Sorry I'm rambling” “it’s okay. I like hearing you talk”

“You were supposed to be my forever”

“Pfft. the stars have nothing on your eye’s”

“I'm mad at you because I love you.”

“The heater broke and I'm freezing, can I sleep with you?”

“hear cuddling helps you sleep better, wanna try it out?”

“Are you eating a jar of Nutella in one sitting?” “I have problems. Leave me be”

“If you insist”

“Thank you kind sir” “your welcome m'lady”

“Seriously?”

“I hate you.”

“Stop being cheesy.”

“I’ll slap you.”

“You know what! I love you. I fucking love you okay!?”

“Could you help me”

“Fuck off.”

“You lied.”

“You think that I'm going to forgive you after all you put me through?”

“You broke what?!”

“It's not nearly as bad as it looks, Darling”

“Frankly I couldn’t care less.”

“I don’t know where she gets it from”

“Bring that pretty little butt over here”

“We have to pretend to be married”

“Why are you dressed like that?”

“At what point did you think this was a good idea?!”

“You had me at ‘free pizza”

“Why are you always pushing me away?”

“How did you even get that up there?!”

“You’re evil”

“The sign said not to push the button, so naturally I had to push it”

“That came out wrong”

“I think you’re just afraid to be happy.”

“I just came to dance”

“You know my name?!”

“Oh, you beautiful weirdo”

“How bout dat!”

“I've never felt this way about anyone before…and it scares the crap out of me”

“None of this makes sense”

“You have a wicked sense of humour”

“I won’t let you fall.”

“Do you remember me? We were only 15”

“Your voice is like a melody, I could listen to you all day”

“I'm your’s”

“I'm only human!”

“Must be love on the brain”

“What do you want from me?!”

“Don’t mind if I do”

“Shut up and kiss me”

“Dork”

“Asshole”

“Ah, but I am cute”

“You will forever remember this as the day you nearly caught captain jack sparrow.”

“You did all this for me?!”

“What ate you afraid of?”

“What the hell was that?”

“Well the powers out”

“What now”

“Well. This sucks.”

“Awkward”

“May I have this dance?”

“Hand’s and eye’s off mate.”

“She’s mine.”

“Don’t freak out….but I think we got married last night.”

“Somebody is in love”

“You what?!”

“Did I stutter?!!”

“Fuck you.” “Please do.”

“I can’t wait to grow old with you”

“Why are you covered in mud?”

“You take one more step towards me and I will knock you off your ass.”

“Let him go. It’s me you want”

“Don't deny it.”

“Okay. This is seriously creeping me out”

“We have to find a way to make this work.”

“Is that…my picture on your wallet/ home screen?”

“If he asked. I’d be his”

“Come over here and make me.”

“Wanna bet?!”

“Pfft. Hold my beer.”

“Is there a reason why you’re naked in my bed?”

“Kiss me.”

“Marry me?”

“I wish I could hate you.”

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

“Please…dont do this…”

“I love you….”

“Is it really you?!”

“I’ve missed you”

“Boo.”

“Have you seen the- oh…”

“Shit.”

“Who crawls through someone’s window at 4 am to go and get ice-cream?!”

“Our first date is a picnic on a beach under the stars? Have you swallowed a romance novel? Do I need to call a doctor?”

“The only thing I want is you.”

“Are you ticklish?”

“PILLOW FIGHT!!!”

“Fight me”

“I will knock you on your ass if you even think about it.”

“I need you to pretend we’re dating…”

“I'm not leaving you.”

“Please…let me go.”

“You weren’t even going to say goodbye. Were you?”

“I'm hopelessly in love with you.”

“I bet I can make you scream my name”

“Pervert!”

“Childish. That's all you are.”

“I love you a lot. But stop trying to cook me dinner. You suck”

“If you shove cake in my face. This will be the worst wedding night of your life.”

“I bet its a girl/boy”

“IF YOU USE ALL THE HOT WATER ONE MORE TIME IM BANISHING YOU TO THE COUCH FOR A MONTH”

“Our kid is totally the one who wanted to build a pillow fort. Not me”

“Your dad is really excited to see you soon…it's driving me crazy”

“Are you drunk?”

“I'm flirting with you”

“I had to see you again”

“I can't wait to meet you”

“literally everything about this is illegal.”

“you just want attention, you don’t want my heart.”

“you just want to make sure I’m never getting over you.”

“I can’t quit you.”

“I know I just spit blood all over you, and this is a really bad time but I have to tell you something.”

“there’s something you should know, in case I don’t come back.”

“I thought you forgot about me.” “never.”

“was that supposed to hurt me?”

“Maybe I should stop and start confessing.”

“it’s okay, I didn’t expect you to love me.”

“I trusted you!” “that was your first mistake, you're second, falling in love with me.”

“I have a plan.” “Is it a good one?” “I have a plan okay!"

“well, unfortunately, the best of the best was unavailable so we got the best of the mediocre.”

“you just hate the thought of me with someone new.”

“you shouldn’t be so trusting darling, the world is a dangerous place.” “you don’t scare me.” “I should.”

“oh god, you’re in love with him.”

“I don’t want to die.” “I won’t let you, if you die, I do too.”

“how long have you been standing there?” “longer than you’d imagine.”

“I am the one that listens when the line is dead.”

“that has got to be the lamest pick-up line in existence.” “Oh, honey that was just plan A.” “okay then what’s plan B?” “take you, hostage, duh.”

“they’re afraid of me. I don’t blame them, I’m afraid of me too.” “I’m not.”

“well, this is a nice change of scenery.” “we’re in a jail cell?” “oh for the love of god I was being sarcastic!”

“I wanted you to fight for me and you didn’t, you just let me walk away.”

“A small fire, my exact words were set a small fire, this is not small!”

“you know I can kill you right?” “I’m already dead.”

“what do you mean work with him? He tried to kill me. Twice actually.”

“If I knew that would be the last time I held you, I would’ve held on tighter.”

“I always knew it was you.”

“she doesn’t love me, she’s not that stupid.”

“I’ll be the first to tell you, I’m a terrible liar.”

“am I going to regret this?” “probably.”

“I’ve lost count of the promises you’ve broken, so please don’t make anymore.”

“I’d take a bullet for you, I told you that before.” “except you’ll heal, and if you tell me one more time, I’m going to be the one pulling the trigger.”

“wow can we pretend for one second that you’re not a complete douchebag?”

“you’ve got to believe me.” “sorry I tend to not believe compulsive liars.”

“shut up.” “but I didn’t say anything.” “I don’t care shut up.”

“uh, you have blood on your shirt.” “I suppose I do.” “You don’t just go nowhere and get blood on your shirt.”

“just take a deep breath or something.” “take a deep breath? It feels like my insides are being ripped out, and you want me to take a deep breath?”

“I’ll be there for you, but you gotta be there for me too.“

"So I uh notice you’re kind of naked, is that intentional or..”

#writing #prompt #fanfiction #request

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katsitting · 7 years

Note

42 Tomarry?

AN: Well, this was a wild experiment. I wanted to write some banter but this didn’t turn out that way. I don’t even know what is going on here either way. Harry ends up in the past without any memory of who he was or where he came from. This is set in Sixth year. If this doesn’t make sense or if there are typos, I am sorry. I didn’t sleep much last night ;A;

Prompt: “If you don’t want to talk about what happened then say so. Don’t just lie and say it’s fine.”

Warning: Language, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Tom being an arse

Rating: T

————————————

“If you don’t want to talk about what happened then say so. Don’t just lie and say it’s fine.” Harry muttered, staring at Tom’s hunched back as he labored over one of his newest experiments; standing regally over the table. Harry wasn’t quite sure what this newest project entailed, but gauging from the boy’s tense shoulders, it had to be something arduous and time consuming.

A something, Harry noted, that had supremely pissed the teen off.

Several moments passed without answer; the shuffling of vials that only sound in the deafening silence that had fallen between them.

“Riddle?” Harry tried again, his curiosity and substantial disregard for his own safety urging him to prod. He knew it was stupid, and he begrudgingly conceded, reckless. But Harry could not just leave this be.

When Harry had been sorted into Slytherin, it had been Tom that had taken him under his wing. Literally swooping in with a reassuring smile when Harry had nearly had an aneurysm that very afternoon.

The shock of being sorted into Slytherin too much for him.

Harry had been sure he would be placed in Gryffindor–recalling then, how a strange voice shouted spitefully that his sorting had been wrong. That he in fact did not belong in Slytherin, but in Gryffindor. It didn’t make much sense to Harry then, knowing little about his past, let alone about Hogwarts. He had been so overwhelmed by his conflicting emotions that it was certainly a relief when Riddle had come. His soothing voice and dark eyes immediately settling the tumultuous emotions fighting for dominance in his mind.

It had made the transition markedly easier. Although his true identity still eluded him even to this day.

His memories of his own past were murky at best. A total shot in the dark. Short fragments such as his first name and latent talents easy to recall.

But that was the extent of his knowledge, and any attempt he made of doing more to uncover his mysterious past, usually led to more questions than actual answers.

And pain. Excruciating and debilitating pain.

For some reason Harry had yet to decipher, any attempt made to uncover more than simple memories lead to crippling migraines. The agony, at first, manageable for a few short seconds before exploding with sharp pangs--the pulsing on his forehead so particularized that Harry could almost predict when he had gone too far with his recollections. The area where his strange scar lied twinging as if in warning.

It was easily the most painful thing Harry had ever experienced. And perhaps the sole reason he made no substantial progress with uncovering where he came from.

He wanted to know how he had acquired the scar on his forehead. Learn about what his family was like--if he even had one at all. To uncover the secrets of the nightmares that plagued him at night, but could never recall.

To decipher just what the bloody hell the name Voldemort even meant.

But there was no helping things. He had to let things lie--even if it went contrary to him to just leave this alone.

Harry was drawn away from his thoughts by the absence of movement. The clatter of vials being moved ceasing.

There was a pregnant pause, and then Harry heard rather than saw Riddle set the vials down. It was the only warning Harry had before Riddle rounded on him; the teen moving so quickly that Harry barely had enough time to take a step back. Riddle’s arm narrowly missing his side by mere seconds when he had turned to survey him.

“What makes you think I wish to speak to you?” Tom intoned, rage so palpable on his face that Harry was sure he’d melt from the intensity.

It was admittedly frightening to be underneath the teen’s intense scrutiny, but Harry did not wither despite the impulse screaming for him to shrink back into the confines of his mind.

He was no coward.

Tom may be an arse, but he wasn’t dangerous. To his knowledge, at least.

The teen was certainly dark, but that was not evidence of anything. There were plenty of students his year that were questionable. If anything, considering the current state of things in the outside world, Harry was the last to even judge in the first place. Since being sorted into Slytherin, he had learned more than he needed to know about the prejudices harbored for his house.

Slytherins, from what Harry had gathered were notorious. And the Gryffindors certainly made sure to let him know of it. Their slurs and rude remarks almost commonplace now.

Though, in all fairness, his housemates were wankers. There was perhaps one or two that were at least decent. Riddle among those.

Though decent didn’t necessarily mean nice.

“Well, you like me enough to sit beside me for meals.” Harry said lamely, only just realizing how piss poor his reasoning was. But it was honestly the best he had. Riddle was quite the gentleman outside of class, but within his actual house...well, Riddle could be a little intense.

It was definitely a good sign if Riddle could tolerate you in a private setting. And although sitting at breakfast, lunch, and dinner was not exactly private--the discussions they had amongst themselves at the table certainly was.

And Riddle, for some god awful reason, always sat beside him. Rarely, if ever, did Tom actually speak to him past usual pleasantries. But it was markedly better than his aloof regard for his other peers.

It had secretly pleased him to be so special.

And now that he actually voiced such a thing, it definitely didn’t sound all that impressive. In fact, Harry thought with embarrassment, it sounded a bit sad. But it was too late to take the words back.

He would just have to roll with it and see what happened.

“Hardly indicative of anything.” Riddle scoffed, his rage abating as he continued to stare rather intensely at Harry. The darkness in his eyes reminding Harry of the Forbidden Forest at night–an abyss that devoured all light that dared near it. The faint light from the lantern the grounds keeper snuffing out almost instantly when setting food inside the obsidian pool.

It was both fascinating and horrifying all at once.

Harry tried not to fidget under the teen’s scrutiny, clenching his hands into fists when he noted that they had begun to shake. His nerves frayed and his discomfort mounting with each passing second.

“But you like me. You hardly spare the other Slytherins a glance. Except when you’re making demands.” Harry insisted, uncaring of the fact that Riddle had yet to step back.

Riddle paused, his eyes widening fractionally in mild surprise before smoothing away into a passive expression. His eyes swirling with some unnamed emotion that Harry struggled to explain.

A short pause.

And then Riddle smiled at him–a simple curve of the lips, but enough to shock Harry to the marrow of his bones. It reminded Harry of a hungry predator; the sudden stretching of the teen’s lips when Harry could not stop himself from swallowing audibly, making him tense.

Harry could practically see the cogs in the teen’s brain running.

It didn’t look good at all.

“Why do you even care, Harry?” Tom purred, and Harry blanched. His mind screaming at him to move when Riddle stepped forward and shortened the space between them. “I thought I was an arse, as you so eloquently put it. You seemed rather adamant of this this morning.”

Harry did not know what to do. His eyes as wide as saucers when Riddle stopped a couple centimeters in front of him–towering easily above Harry’s much shorter stature.

Riddle then raised a mocking brow, and that snapped Harry out of his shock.

Harry scowled, discarding his anxiety for the moment; ignoring the way his glasses slipped slightly out of place on his nose, before squaring his shoulders.

“You are. But you seemed upset. More so than usual. And then you even lied to my fac–” Harry began, but was cut off by Riddle’s hand reaching out to push Harry’s glasses back into place. The gesture so innocent and sudden that Harry was derailed completely from his train of thought.

Nervously, Harry swallowed–all too aware of Riddle’s seemingly innocuous gesture; repressing a shiver when Riddle’s fingers lightly pressed against his forehead before detracting entirely.

“You were saying?” Riddle teased, snapping Harry out of his stupor.

Harry cleared his throat, and then gathered his composure as quickly as he could. His cheeks burning, all while pointedly ignoring the way Riddle’s lips curled up in amusement.

Tosser.

“Why did you lie? And so poorly at that?” Harry tried again, and he watched the way Tom’s eyebrows shot up, his lips still twisted into that stupid grin.

“Because I wanted to.”

Harry gaped, his eyes widening in shock at Riddle’s very blithe response.

Seriously!?

“Are you sodding kiddin–”

“No. It was just so remarkably easy. I was curious to see just how you’d react. And my, it was certainly something.” Riddle interrupted smoothly, his tone dropping so low that Harry felt his palms begin to sweat. The octave in combination with the heat of Riddle’s gaze making his stomach clench unpleasantly.

Harry did not know what to make of this, and thus, ignored both his own strange reactions and Riddle’s own behavior. Unwilling to give power to this unease. To even put a name to this strange thing happening between them.

“You’re such a prick, Riddle.” Harry retorted, stepping back…only to press against the smooth edges of a desk.

When did I–

“Don’t you want to know why I am upset, Harry?” Riddle coaxed, one perfectly shaped brow lifting up in question. His tone light-hearted and seemingly innocent.

Harry didn’t like his tone, nor the glint in the boy’s eyes.

Harry wasn’t the most observant. Easily able to name a series of other students his year that could put two and two together without much pomp and circumstance. But he didn’t need to be a genius nor the most astute to know that this definitely stank of trouble.

Harry could admit that he was curious–more than he’d like considering how rare it was for the teen to be so open with anyone.

But he couldn’t help how wary he felt about Tom. The teen’’s glittering onyx eyes and his grin rather worrisome.

“I find your sudden generosity suspicious.” Harry cautioned after staring at Riddle for several minutes, unable to mask his grimace when Riddle cocked his head to one side, his gaze flickering down to slowly trail up his body. The way with which Tom watched him almost indecent.

Harry tried not to shudder at that, Riddle’s gaze almost like a physical touch, when his perusal finally stopped on his face. His intense black eyes capturing Harry’s own wide, green ones.

It was as if Riddle was trying to pry some secret out of Harry’s head.

“As you should.” Tom replied in turn before stepping closer still, bridging the small gap Harry had created seconds earlier.

It was all the incentive Harry needed to finally convince himself that he needed to leave.

“I think I’m just going to go.” Harry started, pausing for a moment to collect his bearings before continuing. “You can stay here and sulk all day if you want.”

Harry made to leave, shifting his gaze away from Tom’s creepy face to the exit.

It was in that split second that Tom struck.

Harry gasped, unable to react appropriately when Tom shoved him back against the desk, the hands on either side of Harry’s hips boxing his body in between Tom’s body and the wooden table. Harry could feel where Tom’s arms were pressed onto his sides–the burn of it seeping through his robes.

“What the fuck do yo–”

“Be quiet.” Riddle hissed, and Harry clicked his mouth shut. It was easily the most terrified Harry had ever recalled being, shock shooting up his spine at the murderous expression that suddenly overtook Riddle’s face.

Harry’s body was frozen entirely in shock, unable to comprehend just what was happening. He scrambled to think of something to do, his mind screaming for him to get away--but Harry could not move. Riddle’s eyes so close to his own that it felt like his soul was being sucked out from his eyes.

Riddle was bloody insane. He seemed just fine a few seconds ago...

“Do you know just how frustrating–” Riddle murmured into the short space between their faces, his breath hot wafting against Harry’s cheek as he spoke. Harry was, for once, unable to think of anything to say. “–it is to work with you practically breathing down my neck?”

Riddle whispered, and Harry shrank into himself when Riddle leaned in until their noses touched. The contact making something stir within Harry’s mind–like a memory long lost.

“Do you?” Riddle repeated and Harry inhaled sharply when Riddle arms were suddenly clutching at his arms–his grip so tight that Harry was sure he would have bruises.

“I won’t bother yo–” Harry tried to say, but Riddle cut him off once more. His eyes flashing dangerously beneath the low light of the lit sconces in the room.

“You've done more than bother me, boy.” Harry bristled at the condescending tone in Riddle’s voice, proudly jutting his chin upwards to glare into Riddle’s own unwavering gaze.

“You’re only a couple months older than me. You’re one to talk.” Harry shot back, ignoring the way Riddle’s nose flared and his lips quirked into a sneer.

“You know what? I don’t have to take shit from you of all people.” Harry snarled, pressing his hands suddenly to Tom’s chest and shoving him as hard as he could.

He felt satisfaction curl in his gut at the way Tom’s eyes shot open in surprise, barely catching his balance when he stumbled backwards. Harry pushed past him, heading immediately for the door before Tom could even right himself.

Satisfaction curling in his gut when Riddle cursed; the clattering of vials and the shattering of glass that followed, drawing forth a strong surge of vindictive pleasure from Harry.

Fuck him. This is the last time I’m ever going to be nice to him.

And then Harry was out the door, the door slamming shut loudly behind him as he practically sprinted down the hall. Angry tears welling up at the corners of his eyes and trailing down his cheeks before he could stop them.

He didn’t know why he was crying--why Tom being such an arse to him for simply caring in that second affected him in such a way.

Riddle wasn’t nice. Polite, sure. Charismatic, without a doubt. But there was nothing nice about the boy.

But damn it, Harry had thought that Riddle at least liked him. That he was at least a little special even if they didn’t always get along. .

Harry did not want to admit that it hurt. Stifling his frustrated tears as he passed through several nosy portraits in the hallway toward the dungeons. But it did. More than Harry had expected it to.

Fuck him.

#tomarry #dialogue list prompt #I did a thing #don't know what I am doing honestly #Anonymous

22 notes · View notes

savagegardenforever · 5 years

Text

Darren's Character

Interviwer : So, describe yourself with three words? DARREN: Oh God. Umm emotional, stubborn, generous

20 Questions on the Swedish music channel Z TV 2002

I am happy with my life at the moment. I feel grateful that I have so many beautiful people around me who love me. I hope the future brings peace on earth..

Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

craziest? I'm not really a crazy person .. as in 'wild'.. I'm sure my friends will tell you I'm nuts in general so probably just getting out of bed today was the beginning of a series of strange behaviors that constitute my personality!

Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

I wish for calm sometimes.. peace.. love.. those kinds of things.. the ability to eat anything I want and never gain weight.. but that's about it.

Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

there is a fine line between being critical and being negative.. and you have to find the wisdom in the words that are thrown at you and avoid the insult.. Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

I think we are taught that happiness is a luxury when it should be a birthright... to me, happiness is not bliss.. it is content.. it is feeling loved and loving.. it is grace and gratitude..not ecstacy.. I think elation and that kind of heightened euphoria is never meant to last.. it is a moment that defines the gap between the dark and the light in your life and the life wouldn't be worth living if it didn't contain those extremes.. but in general I don't think we place enough importance on feeling good.. when we should.

Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

Well it was a very cleansing experience for my soul.. I felt a lot of pain and I wanted to get it out and reflect upon it. I did that and I feel like a stronger person for having identified what happened to me and where I am today.. now I feel more aware

Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

How popular? Hm... popular enough to sell more records than last time that's for sure!! haha.. but not so popular that I can't walk down the street without worrying if I look presentable.. I'm a professional slob so I can't be having the snapparzzi stalking me.. Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

I hate promo..! I love singing live but I hate selling myself.. I can't lie...so anything that utilizes the live aspect is my fave form of promo Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

No. I usually find that out later. I really don't think too much about that stuff.. If you click then you click. (when being asked : have you ever felt attracted to someone but you didn't make a move cus you was afraid that person was only attracted to you for being a huge star?) Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

I don't think there is just one person for us.. I think there are many but we settle for the one who fits best.. Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

General Stuff About Darren

please! Barefeet. never the slipper (when being asked if he wears slippers, socks or barefeet around the home)

Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

Smoking gets me angry. I hate it!

20 Questions on the Swedish music channel Z TV 2002

when I can't sleep I usually watch music televsion until I get exhausted with either how boring it is to see nekkid 17 year olds sexing up the camera for fame..

Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

Darren Hayes: Celine Dion live in vegas ( when being asked about the most embarassing CD he owns) Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

Moralistic Darren

I – Is money important? D – Sure, I mean…but it's not God…I mean money is… I – Come on. D - …Yeah, lets get into it. Money is…umm…,it helps you pay the bills, and I'm not gonna insult anyone's intelligence by saying that it hasn't made my life easier, but umm…, you know, I don't think, if you're obsessed over it, it makes you a pretty empty person.

20 Questions on the Swedish music channel Z TV 2002

I would never pose naked for anyone unless I was having sex with them. ha. (when being asked if he would pose naked for charity)

Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

I'm sure not in such a crass way... but I've definitely felt people have wanted to sell themselves to me to get ahead certainly.. the song is really talking about selling out.. selling your soul.. the price of fame.. whether it be giving up your body or your morals.. to make $$$ For me Pop!ular is about our obsession with fame and it's my lack of faith in the music industry and saying.. 'who do I have to sleep with to get my record played?'... and so far it's working a treat..

Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

the most important reason for me to make this record was NOT to sell out.. to make ART.. to make a record that I passionately believed in.. to be honest and unflinching Darren Hayes: if that inspires people or makes them feel less alone that's a bonus..

Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

Sexy Darren

I – What do you think is sexy? D – Confidence.

20 Questions on the Swedish music channel Z TV 2002 Funny darren

does anyone really take me seriously with a fluffy dog on my lap?

20 Questions on the Swedish music channel Z TV 2002

I – Who would you prefer to date, Hillary Clinton or Cher? D – Oh that's not good. They´re my options? Hillary Clinton or Cher… Oh gosh…I go on a lunch date with both of them. How's that?

20 Questions on the Swedish music channel Z TV 2002

I – If you could be invisible, what would you do? D – Obviously I'd just go into you know bathrooms and dressing rooms, and just watch people naked. Isn't that what everyone would do?

20 Questions on the Swedish music channel Z TV 2002 What´s the most embarrassing thing you've done? D – Umm, I'm gonna make something up, because the most embarrassing thing I´ve ever done is, it would ruin my career. I – Ok. D – So, I just tell you that I walked into a window, this is true actually, of a restaurant, when everyone inside knew who I was, and they were all going "no, no" and I walked into the window. I – Were you drunk? D – No, that's the sad thing, and all there was, was a, just a mark of my lips, on the window. I – So you had lipstick on? D – No, I had moisturizer on my lips, thank you.

20 Questions on the Swedish music channel Z TV 2002

I got a bit concerned when we almost got arrested... the lame dancers were terrified and one of them kept saying.. 'I can't get arrested! My dad will kill me!!'... but it was a lot of fun... I didn't mean the dancers were lame... I mean they were wearing gold lame... a metallic fabric..! Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

Well...after hugging all of you... I got TERRIBLY SICK... so you can kiss goodbye to your hugs from Uncle Darren on tour kiddies that's for sure..!

Fanclub chat 9 july 2004 Well it is probably falling off stage...in various places but probably in Brisbane in front of a sell out crowd... but thankfully Daniel did the same later so it was a family affair..(when being asked about themost embarrasing moment)

Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

Religious Darren

I – Is there life after death? D – Oh sure. In some way. I don't know if we come back as this dog. 20 Questions on the Swedish music channel Z TV 2002

Darren & Yoga

I'm good at Yoga. I'm pretty good. I'm competitive

20 Questions on the Swedish music channel Z TV 2002

Talented Darren

What can you do best besides singing? D – I Vogue

20 Questions on the Swedish music channel Z TV 2002

Darren & Family

I am asking Leonie and she is saying mid sept at this point.. remind me to tell my mum (when being asked when he will be back to Australia for promotion)

Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

Darren & Music

most challenging? Technically popular because it was a very intricate and complicated rhythm track with lots of stops and starts..lots of edits and cut and paste.. I loved it though.. emotionally probably Unlovable.. it used to make me cry..

Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

as soon as a song is finished being recorded I begin changing the arrangement because I personally get bored!!

Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

sometimes a melody comes into my head that is so infectious that I think it must be someone else's .. but it isnt.. Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

I don't know if I'm cheekier in general.. I think popular is cheeky but the rest of the album is actually much more serious.. even pop.. is quite a dark and sarcastic tone if you think about it or really listen to the lyrics.. it's about selling your soul for fame

Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

Spin was written in a very self conscious way... with pressure to find hits and with a certain degree of ego and arrogance.. the tension and the spark was the complete opposite... very organic experience...experimental and confessional.... almost writing and recording without being aware of the end result.. Darren Hayes: also this record was everything I wanted to say for years but was afraid to

��Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

About Daniel

I'm singing to Daniel .( when being asked why everytime he performs TTMAB live, at the end he sings "don't get me wrong, I still believe in you) Fanclub chat 9 july 2004

#darren hayes #chat #quotes #intreview

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punkscowardschampions · 5 years

Text

Rio & Buster

Rio: Nancy is fun but she is so sad Buster: The fact that you're calling her fun, even if you retract it, shows me how gone you are Rio: How gone she is Rio: but she's home safe Buster: Well, cheers Buster: We all know she shouldn't drink. Can't like Rio: Not really a case of being good or bad Rio: not when needs must Rio: don't reckon my experience sneaking saved her from your 'rents but doubt they'll kick her whilst she's down, like Buster: They'll get over it Buster: Hardly the first or worst sin Rio: Ain't them I'm worried about tbh Buster: Be weird if you were, like Rio: What else is new Rio: Weirdo Buster: Shhh Rio: You love it Rio: what are you doing Buster: Talking to you now Buster: Telling you to drink some water Rio: I ain't the amateur Buster: Me either Buster: So listen to me Rio: You got anything worth saying tonight? Buster: Depends on what you wanna hear, babe Rio: How you been Buster: Standard Rio: Christ Buster: What do you want me to say? Buster: That I feel like shit? Is that better Rio: Least it's making conversation Rio: was hoping for better but you know take what I can get at this point Buster: Babe Rio: Forget about it Rio: talk to your sister Rio: not now Rio: but do it Buster: So what you're just gonna go back to telling me what to do like you never stopped? Rio: Yeah Rio: and what Rio: I'm right Buster: How are you right? Buster: What the fuck is trying to talk to Nance gonna do? Rio: For starters you can tell her you don't hate her Buster: Fucking hell Buster: Why would I do that? Buster: Don't be stupid Rio: cos that's what she reckons Rio: and i figure you want to put a stop to that no Buster: She doesn't reckon that Rio: Yeah Rio: she does Buster: Shut up Buster: She's just being dramatic. I can't blame her for that one Rio: You did fuck her bully Buster: Behave Buster: They were friends and they fell out and things got out of hand, like Buster: You don't have to join her in being dramatic Rio: Give me strength Rio: this is why you two need to talk Rio: not how it was like, remotely, not for her Buster: Leave it alone Rio: Whatever Buster: Not whatever. It's bullshit and the past and I'm asking you to Rio: Isn't going to make the problem go away Rio: but sure thing Buster: Yeah well it's my problem and she's my sister Buster: Not yours Rio: Yeah well act like it then Buster: What 'cause I'm not mothering and smothering, I ain't Buster: That's your way not the only way Rio: How's yours working for you? Buster: It's none of your business Buster: Act like it Rio: Is when I have to console your sister 'cos of the shit you've done Buster: You don't have to do anything Buster: Was she begging you? No Buster: You put yourself in the middle of it 'cause that's where you wanna be Rio: Alright then, I wanted to 'cos I'm not a massive cunt Rio: Don't lash out at me 'cos you're angry at yourself and feeling sorry Buster: You wanted to 'cause anything not to deal with your own shit and how you feel Rio: My shit really ain't no concern of yours Buster: If that's how you want it Rio: Yeah Rio: keep telling yourself this is all how I want it Rio: not how you've got it Buster: It is how you want it though, babe Buster: We're stopped talking 'cause you wanted space and we're talking now 'cause you wanna have a go at me Buster: None of my choice in it Rio: Sure Rio: You're just a blameless angel who deserves none of this Rio: My bad Buster: Don't be an idiot Buster: I know what I did and if you wanna punish me forever you can, but I'm not gonna pretend that's how I want things to be Rio: Yeah 'cos I'm loving this Buster: I never said you are Buster: But you're doing it Rio: It's a reaction Rio: there's no want about it Rio: it is what it is Rio: deal with it Rio: i'm trying Buster: I'm here, aren't I? Buster: I am dealing with it Rio: Good Rio: I'm glad Buster: You should be 'cause if I wasn't dealing I'd be at your door Rio: that meant to make me feel better Buster: Yeah Rio: Fucking hell Rio: you're so clueless Buster: Fuck that Buster: I am not Rio: You are Rio: completely clueless Buster: I'm not having that Rio: Well I'm out here spitting nothing but truth and wisdom and you ain't having that either Rio: whaddya want me to do boy Buster: You wish, babe Buster: Truth maybe, but hardly life lessons Rio: Please Rio: just 'cos you don't wanna hear it Buster: No I don't Buster: I've got enough bullshit in between my ears without you adding to it Rio: If you fucking talk about it Rio: it'll clear some space Rio: 'nother hot tip Buster: Sure, I'll get Granddad to stick the kettle on so I can pop round and spit some truth at him Buster: Fuck that Rio: Priorities Rio: he's fine without your chat Rio: you know who you gotta chat to pussy Buster: Fuck you Buster: Just drop it Rio: Good luck you trying that approach yourself Buster: Go to bed, Rio Buster: You've done your good deed for the night already Rio: Shut up Rio: I'm not tired you wish Buster: I will if you will Buster: Like you said, it's a reaction Buster: Shut up to shut me up Rio: Nah Buster: Then get new chat Buster: You're wasting your time saying it Rio: idc Rio: slow night Buster: At least you can't blame me for that as well Buster: Wrong twin, like Rio: I told you she's a laugh Buster: Whatever you say, babe Rio: I get it Rio: she ain't your biggest fan either, like Rio: which was fun, btw, fuck you Buster: Fun you decided to have Buster: I didn't twist your arm Buster: I didn't even know you were out so don't start on me Rio: it ain't a decision how many times Rio: i can't just ignore her when she's hurt like Rio: not got the distance Buster: You don't have to seek it out Buster: Not like you live with her Buster: Or go to school with her either Rio: She's family Rio: don't fool me Buster: So what? Buster: She's stuck with me, I don't have to make it worse for her by showing up and vice versa Rio: Impressive you've got it in you to do worse Buster: Cheers Rio: Very welcome Buster: Are mum and dad there still? Rio: Last I checked, yeah Rio: why Buster: 'Cause you said Nance was home Buster: You know her track record when she's had a few Rio: Yeah, they were there then Rio: she's fine Buster: Alright Rio: Yep, told you, not fooled Rio: leave you to your evening now though Buster: Fine Buster: Drink that water though Rio: Lame Rio: we're going on to another club Rio: or party idk Buster: Don't they have taps that far into the 24? Buster: Still doable Rio: Boring Rio: what can i get you darling Rio: oh a tap water Rio: sexy Buster: like you couldn't make it sexy Buster: come on Buster: try harder, babe Rio: fuck off Rio: need all the help i can get Buster: No you don't Rio: do tonight Buster: I'm not buying it Rio: good thing i ain't trying to get you to buy rn then Buster: Yeah Buster: Sure you'll still be a hit wherever you end up Buster: It's only the 24 after all Rio: Right? Rio: Always got Ryan to hit up when it gets real desperate ay Buster: That's not funny Rio: Neither are you Buster: I'm not trying to be Buster: If you're not fooled I'm not gonna bother playing the fool for you, am I Rio: Just a dick then? Rio: Fun Buster: Complain all you want now but you had your fun with that when it suited you Rio: Heaven forbid anyone ever calls you out on your shit Buster: You've been there and done it Buster: It's the same old shit Buster: Sorry to disappoint but I haven't actually fucked up again yet since we spoke last Rio: Sorry I ain't impressed when you're doing fuck all to sort what you did last Buster: Says you Rio: Sort of given yourself away Rio: even if Nance hadn't told me Rio: but go off Buster: What's a give away is that the only way to sort things between me and her is to leave each other alone Rio: Ignore the problem and hope it goes away Rio: especially if its her who does it right, you can feel left all over again Rio: brilliant Buster: Fuck you Rio: You could do better Rio: you both could Buster: So could everyone Buster: That's life Buster: I'm not gonna pick at wounds until they open up over and over again and pretend I'm fixing things Rio: What happened to the best? Rio: And I need to try harder Buster: You can always do better Buster: Truth and wisdom, babe Rio: You might be clueless but don't act like you're fucking hopeless and helpless too Buster: I ain't Rio: Of course not Buster: You want me to apologize for my high standards now? Rio: What standards? Rio: The ones you hold yourself to or your conquests, either way Rio: hardly aspirational Buster: Hilarious Buster: Well done on keeping it fun, like Rio: Like you said Rio: weren't complaining were you Buster: I'm still not Buster: You're the one dead set on it Rio: That's all you've done this entire conversation don't lie Buster: How do you work that out? Rio: Slow night or not Rio: don't need to sit here and pick out all the best insults Buster: Then don't Rio: Shame for your work to go to waste Rio: but there it is, no doubt i'll remember 'em still though Buster: Good luck with that Buster: All the best, like Rio: Piss off Rio: not above a reread anyway Buster: More fool you Rio: make it easier to keep ignoring you Buster: Like I said, good luck etc Rio: I hate you Buster: Understandable Buster: Stick with Nance, you're in good company there Rio: why don't you care Buster: I do Rio: then fucking show it Buster: I am Rio: if i can't tell Rio: and she can't tell Rio: then it isn't working is it Buster: You can tell Buster: And she doesn't want to Rio: you both just want it on your terms and won't budge an inch Buster: Yeah well Buster: Like you said, it is what it is Rio: For God's sake Rio: Buster Buster: What? Rio: Just.. why is everything fucked Buster: 'Cause of me Buster: It's that simple, like it or not Rio: No Rio: if only Buster: Yes. I fucked it. You didn't and Nance didn't Rio: Nah Rio: She's fancied her, loved her, whatever for years Rio: and same here so Rio: not like we didn't play our parts Rio: and its everyone Rio: all the time Rio: its all fucked Buster: You reckon? Rio: Yeah Buster: Then why bother. With any of it Buster: You still do though Rio: Someone has to Rio: What's the alternative? Rio: Be like Drew Buster: If it's all fucked anyway then why does someone have to? Buster: Why does it have to be you? Buster: It's cause you know it isn't Buster: Not everything and not all the time Rio: Just hoping to get into heaven still Rio: loves a trier, remember Buster: At least when you do you won't have to put up with me any more Buster: Worth it for that, yeah? Rio: Shut up Rio: stupid Buster: Not all the time Rio: Don't say things like that Buster: Like what? Rio: About you being gone Rio: 'less you really want me to have a panic attack in this car, like Buster: Babe Buster: Come on Rio: I mean it Rio: not even jokes Buster: Okay calm down Buster: I'm sorry Rio: Hmm Rio: better be Buster: I don't say things I don't mean, remember Rio: even the horrible things Buster: I mean them when I say them Buster: My anger does Buster: but Rio: Yeah Rio: it's alright Rio: least you're honest Buster: It's not really alright Buster: But bit late to try and change my ways now, like Rio: Dramatic Rio: not even 18 Rio: you won't be this twat for life, babe Rio: don't worry Buster: You've met my parents Buster: You can't say that with any certainty Rio: Rude Rio: and maybe they were even worse before Rio: shock horror Buster: Now that's funny Buster: I knew you were capable Buster: Sometimes Rio: Just gotta stop taking yourself so serious, McKenna Rio: trust Buster: Says you Buster: I saw your snaps, serious business trying to straighten my sister out Rio: 😂 Rio: there goes my conversion camp idea Buster: I don't reckon she'll be your poster child, nah Buster: But don't give up Buster: Plenty of gays in Dublin Rio: Spread the good word Rio: thank god we've left the gay club Rio: that's a bit brazen, even for me Buster: 😂 Buster: Your t-shirt slogan taking on a homophobic meaning like Buster: Even me, massive hero I always am, would struggle to save you there Rio: 😏 Catch me getting disowned forreal for that one Buster: Same Rio: Hoping you wouldn't see that snap though Rio: spot on with try harder but like 😬 Buster: Shut up Buster: You know you look good Rio: Ha Rio: only got Nance's skills with the 📷 to thank for that then Buster: Bullshit Buster: You look beautiful like always Rio: Now you can go to bed Rio: Your gentlemanly act outta the way too Buster: shh Buster: I'm being real Rio: Shh Buster: I don't want to Rio: If it's any consolation, I don't want you to either Buster: Rio Rio: Buster Buster: You should go Rio: Right Rio: 'course Buster: Go have fun now you've ditched my boring sister, like Rio: Idiot Buster: I'm serious Buster: Lightweight and dead weight on a night out Rio: Want me to do you the favour of pretending you've got a clue? Buster: Don't do me any Rio: Yeah right Rio: If I was really in the business of doing you favours, I wouldn't be replying so Buster: And I'm the one who hasn't got a clue, yeah? Rio: Yep Rio: Getting tragic, honestly Buster: Fuck off, honestly Rio: See? Rio: You want it so bad Buster: Shut up Rio: Make me Buster: You wish Rio: 'Course Buster: Get a clue, kid Rio: Ain't sharing with you if I do Buster: Very mature and polite Rio: Never too late to change, babe Buster: If you say so Buster: Still a know it all, obviously Buster: That ain't changing any time soon then? Rio: Can't unknow shit Rio: Better or worse, like Buster: Good Buster: Pretty shit being clueless, not that I'd know, like Rio: You reckon? Rio: Ignorance is bliss, supposedly Buster: I don't buy it Buster: Happiness is expensive and how many idiots do you know with plenty of cash Rio: Can name a few, honestly Rio: but that's pure 🍀 Buster: Exactly Buster: And they know it so not so stupid, at least not entirely Rio: Would be the first time you've been on his side Buster: What? Rio: Talking about Drew, obviously Rio: he's made quite the life out of being an idiot Buster: Firstly, I thought you loved him again now Buster: and secondly, not that much of an idiot given he's still standing Buster: It's everyone else who gets hurt not him Buster: Some would call that a smart move Rio: Can still think, fuck it, KNOW, he's dumb Rio: people who don't know how sad and fucked up he is, maybe Buster: Yeah Buster: So most people, 'cause who's in his inner circle Buster: Nobody Rio: And why would you care what they think if they ain't even good enough to be in your circle? Rio: Irrelevant Buster: Exactly Rio: Are we agreeing now or what? Rio: I don't think that's allowed Buster: No takebacks Rio: Wow, coming for my gig being childish too Buster: It's a time for firsts, obviously Rio: Hmm Rio: Don't know if that's a bad or good thing Buster: Well, since we were being childish I was gonna ask if you wanna play truth or dare but fine Buster: It's a no from you Rio: Nuuh Rio: I wanna play Buster: Alright Buster: Truth or dare, babe? Rio: Truth Buster: Are you gonna drink your water or not? Buster: I'm invested here Rio: 😂 Rio: 'Course, this skin routine's worth shit if I don't get my 8 glasses Buster: Well that's a relief Buster: I'll be able to sleep easy tonight now Rio: You're ridiculous but it's your turn Buster: So ask me Rio: Truth or dare? Buster: Dare obviously Buster: Not an amateur Rio: Neither am I, for the record Rio: Hmm Buster: 'Course not, babe Buster: Such a pro Rio: I dare you to talk to your sister Buster: Seriously? Rio: Yeah, deadly, like Buster: Fine Buster: [sends a pic of the text so she knows he sent it] Rio: 👍 Rio: Impressive Buster: Don't act like I ain't always Buster: Which one do you want then? Rio: I'm picking dare so I don't have to confirm or deny the above Buster: Where are you first before I decide Rio: It was a house party in the end Buster: I dare you to go up to someone and tell them how you feel about me Rio: I don't know how you want me to document that bar sending you a picture of their utter confusion and horror but Rio: okay Buster: You'll figure it out Rio: [Sends video of random saying hi Buster] Rio: There Buster: For that you'll get a truth from me Rio: Okay Rio: Are you having a good night? Buster: I wasn't but now I am Rio: Good Rio: Truth me Buster: Why did you really go out tonight? Rio: Was a lot to cheer Nancy up, and she asked so, couldn't say no Rio: but being able to get wasted and not be alone is an obvious bonus Buster: Babe you're not alone Rio: A bit Rio: feels like it in comparison anyway, yeah? Buster: You don't have to be wasted to talk to me Buster: You know that, yeah? Buster: I'm still here for you, whatever Rio: At least I have an excuse then Rio: rather than just wanting to Buster: You never need an excuse with me Buster: You're not the one who did anything wrong Rio: But I'm doing it all wrong if I just forgive you, aren't I Buster: If it feels wrong to you, yeah Buster: But if not, I always wanna talk to you Rio: It feels wrong not talking to you Buster: Then talk to me Buster: Even if all you wanna say is something annoying Rio: Ha Rio: You've got that covered, babe Buster: Rude Buster: I was gonna say give me another truth but if you don't wanna hear it Rio: Okay okay Rio: one last one 'cos everyone's getting annoyed with me Rio: Do you still want to be with me? Buster: Yeah Buster: It's all I want Rio: Okay Rio: Now I know Buster: Did you honestly not know that I'd get on a plane in a second if you told me that's what you wanted? Rio: Hey, I didn't pick Buster: I know but you have to know that, Rio Rio: I do Rio: but I know you've got to focus so I can't tell you that Rio: it wouldn't be fair Buster: No it wouldn't be fair 'cause I'm sober and you're not Buster: And if I did come and see you I wouldn't want you to feel bad about it Rio: Babe Buster: Just tell me you want me tomorrow if you still do Rio: I will Rio: don't think I don't if I don't, alright? Buster: It's like you always said, I won't hold you to shit you say right now Buster: Except the truths, of course Rio: I said some mean things didn't I Buster: It doesn't matter Rio: It does Rio: I'm sorry Buster: Don't Buster: I've said and done worse to you Rio: Doesn't mean I get a free pass to do the same Rio: or does it 'cos might need to cash that in I can feel the regret already Buster: I think it means exactly that Buster: At least Rio: Good stuff Rio: I don't wanna go Buster: You can stay Rio: What you gonna stay with me 'til I fall asleep like before Buster: Yeah Buster: If you want me to Rio: I really do Buster: Tell me when you're home Buster: I'll call you Rio: I love you Buster: I love you too

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