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blogevaawrites · 3 years

Text

Keeping to the schedule.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: angst, sad, marriage, divorce, smut

Summary: After seven years of being married, two daughters and a difficult divorce, they try to understand what went wrong and why they let that happen.

Part I

“I’m so sorry to do this but we’re having problems with a few scenes. I won’t be at home until next week.” He said from the other side of the line. Since the divorce we have been being very strict with the custody agreement of our children.

“So, will you come to pick them up the next Friday?” I asked.

“Yes, I will be there. And again, I’m really sorry, I tried to do everything in my hands” I knew that he doesn’t like to change anything about the kids, he says we should try to give them as much stability as we can. I couldn’t agree more.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine.” I simply said.

We got married seven years ago, we had a happy marriage, but loneliness and exhaustion made me give up on our marriage. He started to spend more time away, accepting more projects in L.A or any part of the world but home. I guess home wasn’t what it used to be for him and for me because eventually I stopped complaining about his absence.

“I need to talk to you.” I said when I saw him getting out of the shower. I closed the door of the bathroom and l leaned on the sink. “About what? I’m kind of tired, can we leave it for tomorrow?” He said, drying himself with a towel. I was sick of it; I was being left to a side for so long that I didn’t hold it on. “Not really.” He looked at me then, normally I don’t insist. “I filed for divorce.” His face went from confusion to anger quickly.

We fought, he got really mad. I knew I should have talk to him before doing it, but he was never around, I was mad and sad, I wasn’t thinking properly. He didn’t talk to me for four months after that night, he moved to his mother’s house and did everything in his hands to accelerate the process. I know I didn’t deal very well with all of that and either he did. Our relationship since then got even more complicate.

Our obsession with our kids’ stability grew after that. We both knew they were going suffer the most, at least Anna. She was almost six when all of that happened, she asked a few times, but we never gave her an answer she could understand. Emma was only four, she noticed that something was wrong but was too young to assimilate it.

“Mom, Lindsay is having a sleepover this Thursday, and we don’t have school on Friday, can I go? Her mom will call you tomorrow to ask you, can I go, please?” Anna asked, taking my attention from the road as I drove us to home.

“Sure honey” I said with my eyes on the road.

“Dad is coming on Friday, right? I will tell her mom to bring me back in the morning” she always gets excited to see him, both do it.

“It’s not necessary honey, he probably will come to pick you up after dinner. I will pick you up to get lunch together at the park, what do you think?” she nodded enthusiastic, eating her sandwich.

Thursday comes quickly and Martha, Lindsay’s mom, picked Anna up. Emma got to sleep very early after a long afternoon at the park. I went down to watch a few minutes a TV show before to go to bed. The doorbell rang, startling me, it wasn’t late, but I wasn’t expecting anybody. When I got close to the door, I recognized the silhouette of the person behind the door.

“Hi, what are you doing here?”

“I wrapped the film early, I’m sorry if it is too late but I knew you wouldn’t mind. You can have the entire day to yourself tomorrow, in this way.”

“It’s fine, but Anna is not here, she’s at Lindsay’s house and Emma is already sleeping.” He looked devastated and it broke my heart. He usually doesn’t spent too long without seeing them. “You can see Emma if you want to.” I offered and he accepted quickly. He got into the house and went upstairs to Emma’s room.

After a few minutes, he came down to the kitchen where I was preparing things for tomorrow. I wouldn’t say our relationship was good, o was getting better. it was confusing. “How have you been? How was everything with the kids?” he asked from the doorframe. I turned around to see him and answered, “It was fine, no incidents.” I simply said. We looked each other for a while, we haven’t talk since we had sex the last time, he came to bring the girls back. He stayed for dinner and a while after, the girls went to sleep, we started to talk about them, about our past together, about us a couple. We kissed and one thing took us to another.

“I want to talk about the last time. I don’t want you to think I…” he started; I knew it didn’t mean anything for him, it was just sex, he has been avoiding me since then but him bringing the subject up made me mad and it hurt me a little.

“I know! Don’t worry! Let’s just forget about it.” I said walking to the front door.

“No, it’s just that we were kind of drunk and got emotional.” He started to say without following me.

“It was just sex. I get it! You made it very clear when you couldn’t wait to leave.” As soon as we were done, he got up from the bed and started to dress up. He told me it was late, and he had a thing to do in the morning, but I knew he was lying. He left me, naked in the bed, the one we shared for several years.

“I didn’t want the girls to get confused.” He got closer to the door, shaking his head, and rubbing his face roughly with his hands.

“You didn’t want me to get confused.” His eyes got bigger, and I could see the anger growing in his face.

“You couldn’t care less about what I wanted so don’t tell me what my intentions were.”

“You made them very clear.”

He looked confused, but he moved quickly. “You always so understanding. But why don’t you just listen to me? I’m trying to …” He couldn’t say anything more.

“You’re right, it’s kind of late and there isn’t a reason for you to stay.” I interrupted him, he looked mad.

He took a deep breath and kept on “I’m picking the kids tomorrow’s morning” he informed me before walking out.

“They won’t be here until late afternoon.” I said back. He looked at me without saying anything and kept on his walking. I stood at the door, looking how he got in the car. He turned on the engine, and before driving away he looked at me through the window. “Thank God we’re divorced.”

When the topic isn’t our kids, it never goes well. I guess we’re still hurt.

I didn’t fully understand why he got so angry until I saw the pictures.

After he picked the girls the next day, I did some work and later I filled a glass with wine and turned on the television to pick up a film to watch but my phone rang.

“Hey hon! How are you doing?” Lily asked, with a worried voice that I didn’t get.

“Hey! Why are you asking like that? I’m pretty fine.” I said laughing.

“Well! I don’t know, I thought you will be kind of sad o maybe angry, if my ex-husband was dating with somebody after not even a year from our divorce, I would be ready to kill him.”

“What? What are you talking about? I mean he hadn’t told me anything, I don’t think he’s dating again.” I said quite confused.

“Shit! You haven’t seen it, have you?”

Right away, I googled him with the call waiting.

Chris Evans is off market again? The former superhero and the upcoming actress Rachel Welles spotted holding hands and getting affectionate.

He was trying to talk about our night together because he was going to tell me about her. I felt my heart shrinking. I guess I should have been ready for this, he was free to be with whoever he wanted but it hurt me.

“I’m sorry, girl. It must be weird and hurtful. If you need anything you know I’m right here, right?” she asked kindly.

“I’m fine. he’s free to be with anybody but I guess I wasn’t as much ready to see it as I thought.”

“Yeah, knowing something isn’t always mean assimilating it, right?”

“Right”

After the call I refilled my glass and went to sleep with a few tears in my cheeks.

Our relationship began so natural, and it went so fast. We met through common friends, we dated just for tree moths after he asked me to move on with him. We didn’t take long to get married either, we both just knew that it was the right decision. I really loved him, and I know he loved me too. It wasn’t a fantasy, but we were grown-ups when he met, we knew what we wanted for life, in a partner and we found it in each other.

He was a great husband, a great father and a great friend. I single tear fell through my cheek, remembering the beginning of our freefall.

“There’s not a good way to say this. I’m really sorry to tell this but, Mrs. Evans you had a miscarriage.” Doctor Lars said. I felt Chris’s hand in my knee, comforting me. I felt I couldn’t breathe. My heart broke in pieces. “But I’m six months pregnant, this usually happens during the first trimester. This can’t be true.” My mouth slurred. “Well, the actual name is a late-miscarriage, there are several things that may play a part in causing it so we need to do a few tests to find a cause. I know this isn’t easy, but these things can happen, and we can’t do anything to prevent it.” I touched my barely swollen belly, missing the movements of my baby. “What are we doing now?” Chris talked, taking care of the situation. “You will need to go through labour to give birth to you baby. I know this can be a very distressing time and you may be in shock but there’s not other way.” I could hear him breathe hardly before kissing my head.

We went through our worst nightmare. I gave birth to a baby I could take care of. Thankfully, after inducing the labour, the birth came quickly. We decided not to hold the baby. We thought it will be less traumatic in that way.

He went with me through all of that, but we changed. Everything changed.

Five days later, I came into our bedroom to see him packing his suitcase.

“What are you doing? I asked softly.

“I need to go to L.A for a few interviews and shoot a few scenes” I looked at him straightly. Not quite believing he was going to leave so early after everything. “Don’t worry, I asked my mother to come to help you with everything.” he said, seeing my expression. I didn’t want to be alone, I didn’t want his mom here, I wanted him. I caressed his back, calling his attention.

“Don’t go, please.” I muttered. “It will be just a couple days, two weeks max.” he said holding me in his arms.

“Two weeks?” that was so fucking long.

“Listen, I can really do anything. I’m sorry but it’s work. What you want me to do?” he tried to reason with me, in vain.

“Call Meghan and ask her to reschedule it. We have an appointment with Doctor Lars next week.” I didn’t like to complain about his job or ask him to not to do it, but I couldn’t go through that alone.

“Everything will be fine, call me after the appointment and tell me what she says. I will be here as soon as I can.” I pushed him away with my eyes watering.

“Okay” for the first time in our life together he was putting his family in a second place.

The worst thing it was that trip didn’t last 2 weeks, but 3 months. He told me that his next project was being moved forward, and nothing else. He left me alone in the worst moment of my life and I couldn’t forget it.

After a few more glasses of wine, I took me phone and I called him.

“Hello” he said with a surprised voice. “What’s going on?”

“What was what you wanted to tell me last time? Hey, I know we just fuck but I’m actually in a relationship with some else and you must forget about it.” I slurred, mimicking him.

“You know it.” He said, I could hear him moving to another place. I guess he left the house.

“Of course, I do. Do you think I live under a rock?” I wasn’t jealous I was mad at him, at myself.

“Okay I get it you’re mad, but I wanted to talk…”

“What for? To say sorry for fucking me or to ask me to keep back of your new love.”

“No, it’s not like…”

“Why did you leave me? Why wasn’t I your priority anymore? I asked, removing the tears away from my face. My voice broke a few times, I was unable to keep myself still.

“Where are you? Are you drunk?” he asked hurriedly.

“It wasn’t my blame; I couldn’t have known it.” I kept talking.

“What are you talking about?” his voice was full of curiosity and confusion.

“We didn’t name him, he died without a name.” my face was completely wet, my arms were crossed around my stomach and my heart… I couldn’t feel my heart.

“Are you at home? Pease tell me where you are.” He asked desperately.

“Yes, I’m here.” I muttered before hanging up.

A few minutes later I heard the door opening, and his footsteps. I was in completely darkness, no TV, no lights, nothing but somehow, he knew exactly where I was.

“Hey! What’s going on? What happened?” he asked softly, sitting next to me in the half-furnished nursery.

“Why did you leave me?”

“Well, when you wife files for divorce, it’s actually kind of what you have do” he said with a sad smile in his face.

“You left me way before that.” I said quickly, he left me when we lost our baby. “We never talked about him.”

“I don’t think you are in an appropriate state to talk about him.” He said without looking at me.

“I’m fine. Don’t make excuses! You just don’t want to talk about him with me.”

“I don’t want to talk about him with nobody.”

“I’m not nobody.”

“Why is this so important now? It’s been a year since then, we are not together anymore...” he started to get up from the floor.

“You’re dating again…” I finished the sentence off for him “you told me you weren’t ready. You said you missed me, that you missed us.” I said, remembering what he told me when he was taking me to our bedroom between kisses and caresses.

His face looked confused and tired.

“I don’t get it. Why are so upset? You filed for divorce without telling me why, without giving me a chance to make it better. All I know is you felt neglected, but I didn’t do anything wrong. I thought we were just going through a rough patch, but I thought it was normal after all.” His voice was firmed, he wasn’t yelling me, but I bet he wanted. “I know you don’t think this but I’m not the bad guy here.” His eyes were red and watering. He never told me anything of this. He had been too angry to talk to me about anything.

He walked to the door, ready to leave me.

“You left me.” I said, calling his attention.

“You already said that.” He barked back.

“When I asked you to stay you left me for almost four months after I gave birth to my death son. I needed you Chris, and you rather work than be with your wife.” His face kept straight; he knew what I was talking about. I got up when I saw him get closer to me. He looked at me for minutes, as he wasn’t sure about his next words.

“I went to therapy. I didn’t come back home because I wasn’t stable, not because I was working, not because I wanted to leave, it was because I didn’t see another way to deal with everything. You were right when you said holding our baby it would be traumatic, it was.” I didn’t understand what he was talking about, we agreed on not to hold the baby when he was born but he cleared all up “I couldn’t help it, I saw him coming out of you as the same way Emma and Anna did. I needed to see him, and it was the worst thing I could have done, but it was my son.” His eyes never left mine when his body got much closer to me. “I lost my son too, honey. I couldn’t be there for you because I wasn’t handling in the right way.” I saw a single tear going down through his cheek. At least I wasn’t the only one crying.

“Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“Because you gave birth to him! How the fucking hell could I have told you I was the one losing his mind after that? I know I should have stayed with you but believe me, there wasn’t another option, I didn’t find another way.”

#chris evans imagine #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans smut #chris evans fluff #CHRIS EVANS ANGST #chris evans and reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans x wife!reader #marriage #divorce #fluff #Smut #angst #sad

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saturnsummer · 3 years

Text

helpless.

han joon hwi does all he can to save kang sol a. kang sol a, for the first time, realises she’s not alone.

ao3 link

notes: this has been manifesting in me ever since i saw the scene of sol a fainting. i’m sorry it’s so long, but i hope the law school fans like it! it’s my first time, but i’m open to request and improvements. do share with your fellow solhwi fans if you like it! any grammar mistakes and all will be taken fully responsible by me.

edit: this is written by @inactiverat , which is MY secondary account. i did not copy this from someone else. both accounts belong to ME. i am republishing this on my primary blog to better manage.

words: 4130 words.

it’s been a terrible day for sol.

forget about a terrible day, it has been a week of horror.

she can’t remember the last time she laid her head on the pillow of her clean sheets and mattress. with her semester test coming on friday, she has spent the entire weekend cramming for her test. she has opted to sleep at her desk for no more than 10 minutes at a time. her eyes sting from the roll-on muscle relief ointment that she rolls on every few hours under her eyes. her head pounds and the only things she has eaten are ramyeon and black coffee. (no sugar, extra shots.)

sol sighs as she fixes another highlighter in her top bun. she’s been staring at the same question for hours. she looks over her desk, hoping to find peace by seeing a sleeping sol b, but only remembers that she went home. her tiger mom’s orders, since “she shouldn’t study with her roommate, who is at the bottom of the cohort.”

sol visibly frowned as she thought of that sentence. she doesn't need to be reminded every minute and second of her life that she’s the worst. that whenever she fails a test, the smarty pants are cheering due to the bell curve. that she barely scrapes through every class. that she blubbers and mutters answers like an idiot in every lecture.

that’s why she works so hard. to show that she doesn't need money or connections to succeed in this school. that a single parented girl, making enough to get by, holding a part time job can be like the rest. for her mom, she tolerated years of violent abuse, yet still being so strong for her children. for dan, who she so desperately misses and wants to find, even though she knows dan may never want to see her. for byeol, the reason why she decided to study law; the only human she loves in this lawless world.

sol knows she’s pushing herself too hard. yeseul made an effort to remind her to sleep via text. bokgi teased her once during a study group after mentioning she looks like a disheveled panda. even professor kim pulled her out of lecture to give her a talk to remind her to eat.

but joon hwi hasn't.

she internally scoffs. she doesn’t expect him to. (what does a second round judicial exam passer want to know about the worst student?) and maybe, she doesn't want him to. she wants to show him she can do it on her own. she can’t count the number of times he helped her with her grades and cases. studying alone without help was the smallest thing she can do to show him her independence.

thus, she found every moment to stay away. well, from him, in particular. she only came to lectures on time, sat at the back (as opposed to next to him) and left immediately. she returns to her dorm to study (ditching study groups with him in it) and only leaves in the odd hours to get drinks and food when she’s absolutely starving. she hears the buzzes and rings from yeseul and joonhwi, but only smiles when they ask about her inactivity. (“it was dead. i must have forgotten to charge it again.”)

she sighs in frustration and stands from her chair, grabbing her phone and keys out to the pantry area. she needed more caffeine, if she was going to survive this night.

what she doesn't expect to see, is han joon hwi, devouring his late night snack of ramyeon at the table. the shuffling of her furry slippers raises his head from his precious bowl.

“you’re still up?” he asks.

it’s too late to turn around and pretend she didn’t see him. so instead, sol just nods silently as opposed to her defensive remarks. joon hwi stops slurping his noodles and sets the bowl aside. preparing to walk to the staircase, his next question freezes sol in her steps.

“why have you been avoiding me?”

his voice is gentle and nowhere near angry. but concerned and fearful, as if he’s done something wrong to upset her. for a moment, sol feels like she’s in her first lecture with professor yang and is left speechless. (only now, there is no where to hide.)

joon hwi wasn’t blind to her actions. he noticed her absence when she didn’t sit next to him in lectures. he noticed that whenever he was there for a study group session, she wouldn’t; but when he would ask the others, they would say she was there for the ones he wasn’t. joon hwi was certain that sol was avoiding him.

and he couldn’t understand why.

until now.

joon hwi’s eyes examine the young woman in front of him. he’s certain that a middle school student could figure this out; kang sol a is overworked. her dark eye circles are prominent, puffy and her bloodshot eyes do nothing but intensify her lack of sleep. he noticed just how pale her lips look, as he walks over to her. how has she gotten skinnier too?

joon hwi’s certain that she’s avoiding him not because of something he said that annoyed her. but because he knows that she doesn’t want him to see her in this state. his eyes soften and heart aches from the amount of effort she's putting in to her tests.

for sol, he knows how much the tests meant. it was like her entire life depended on it. that’s why he always wanted to help her. he didn’t want to see such a talented person fall behind. she has already proven herself worthy with all the cases she has participated in. but joon hwi knows that no matter how many times yeseul or bokgi or him say how smart and talented and how she’s doing great, she will never be satisfied in this cold, competitive prestigious school. she will always think she’s the worst and has no potential.

“sol.” his voice firm and serious. sol swears she felt a chill run down. she mentally braces herself for this conversation that she has tried all means to avoid. only one person dares address her as just ‘sol’.

“when did you last sleep? or eat proper food?” his eyes are serious, yet soft and glassy. his voice is gentle and soothing. she closes her eyes and lets out a silent sigh. she is nowhere the mock court, yet she feels like she has taken the witness stand and the oath. lying is perjury, she hears herself say.

“i’m doing fine. i just need to do well on this test.” she lies through her teeth. well, it’s a half true and a half lie. it’s just up to him to pick out which is the lie and truth. joon hwi isn’t an idiot, and can read her emotions with just a single look. it’s an utter lie.

“i’m getting coffee.” she mutters to herself. it was the whole reason she came out, anyways. her sleeve is caught by him but she yanks it away forcefully. she doesn’t even know why she’s being so harsh and angry to him. all he’s done is just ask how she’s doing.

“you need sleep. not caffeine.” he spins her around by her shoulders, his eyes serious and almost frustrated. she fails to meet his eyes, afraid of falling apart before him.

“joon, just let me be.” she says harshly and pushes his hands off before running to get that extra potent coffee. it was the first time she has ever called him that, and it falls out just as naturally as the word ‘sol’ does out of his. sol doesn’t notice how wet her eyes are until she’s downstairs, grabbing cans of coffee from the vending machine. (pathetic, she thinks, getting teary because of lying to her best friend.)

joon hwi doesn't follow. and sol isn't one bit affected.

not. at. all.

-----

the next time sol sees joon hwi is in the morning. he’s carrying his books and has his backpack slung over his shoulder, leaning against the wall. sol braces herself. she knows joon hwi to be protective and caring. but for him to be waiting at the entrance of their dorm was downright surprising.

sol’s not doing any better. when the caffeine and sugar stopped her from staying late, she resorted to stabbing her hand to keep herself awake. when her hand got too red and bloody, she switched to another spot on her arm. underneath her hoodie is her arm with dried blood and bruises all over. she’s surprised she hasn’t had blood poisoning yet.

sol flashes the most natural smile she can on her face, pretending as if her argument with him did not happen a few hours ago. her head was numb, but hanging on with the ointment she applied at her temples. she needed to act okay. just so he would stop worrying and leave her alone.

“sol.” joon hwi’s voice calls, going forward and grabbing her arm to support her. sol is about to create a joke, laugh it off and pretend everything is okay, hopefully convincing him she’s doing better (even if she’s far from it.). but what she doesn’t anticipate is his hand accidentally squeezing the sore wound of hers,

she hisses as his fingers dig into her wound and he immediately lets go. joon hwi’s eyes well in concern, not knowing what he’s done that caused her so much pain. sol’s eyes meet his, uncertain and afraid, as if a secret has been exposed. she pulls her sleeve down and is almost regretting that when joon hwi gently lifts her arm and lifts her sleeve up slightly to expose her arm and hand.

joon hwi takes her good hand in his and drags her to an empty staircase not far from where they were. joon hwi notes the dried blood on her hand and gives a disapproving sigh. just what was she doing to herself? she draws her hand back and pulls her sleeve down, hiding it away.

“sol, you need to take care of yourself.”

“joon, i’m doing okay, i promise. it’s not a big deal.” her voice upbeat and slightly more energetic. joon hwi is about to call her out from lying, but she flashes a smile. “come on, how can an exam defeat me?”

“i’m going to be late.” she says and runs ahead of him, joining yeseul and yebeom in front. sol feels a gnawing guilt in her heart for lying, but she momentarily forgets about it as yebeom sweeps them into a conversation.

i’m sorry, joon. i really am. but i’m not going to burden you any further.

joon hwi is left, helpless and broken, watching the back of the woman he loves stray further.

-----

it isn’t a secret that joon hwi and sol a are good friends. everyone on campus is always shocked. joon hwi, the school’s top student. sol a, the school’s worst student. everyone would have expected sol b when they heard ‘kang sol’. after all, it made sense, didn’t it? the two best students in school.

but what would be even more shocking is that han joon hwi, second round judicial exam passer, is deep in love with kang sol, the klutz with the top bun.

joon hwi couldn’t deny the joy he felt whenever sol was around. it started with study group and tutoring and messages about school. then it became lunches every moment they could. now, he couldn’t go a day without seeing her, hearing her voice or even a simple text. he can’t remember the moment he started falling for the clumsy woman, but when he realised it, he knew it was too late. he was in, deep.

and that's why he can’t bear to see her suffer. that’s why he spends late nights studying with her even though he doesn't need to. that’s why he insist walking her home, even though he installed the camera. (“i miss byeol! that smart cookie...” would always be his excuse.) that’s why he calls her ‘sol’, and he lets her call him ‘joon’, even though no one calls him that anymore.

sol locks herself in her room and buries herself under multiple books after her lectures. sol admits it, she’s tired. she can barely keep herself together and her body is so weak she doesn’t know how she managed to survive the week with less than two hours of sleep combined per day. she can’t remember the last nap she had that lasted more than half an hour.

the guilt from lying is eating her inside. when she closes her eyes, she can only see how hurt joon hwi’s face looks when he saw her arm. taking a shaky breath in, she doesn’t notice the tear running down her cheek. what was she even crying about? lying? hurting her best friend? fatigue? she slams her head against her books, shaking her thoughts out. it’s already 3am, and she doesn’t have much time left.

“kang sol a, you need to do this exam, you hear me? if you want to pass out, do it later on in the afternoon! you have 9 hours till the test.” she scolds herself out loud. stabbing her arm once again, she jerks herself awake and writes her notes over and over. just 9 more hours.

later on in the day, sol finds herself seated next to joon hwi. but she doesn’t notice him. her eyes are too out of focus to concentrate on anything but the paper and pen she holds. when the teaching assistant makes an announcement to start, she races against time and scribbles furiously. her head throbs, but she clings on to her last ounce of sanity keeping herself awake.

-----

she’s worse. joon hwi thinks. much, much worse. her skin is paler than normal and her eyes are fluttery. with her sleeve pulled up slightly, he notices the wound on her hand more bloody than it was. he visibly winces. but it’s nothing to the hurt in his heart. he knows that he should be busy scribbling, but his eyes are slightly glassy and all he can think of is her bloody hand.

all he wants to do is to drag her away. to take her far from this school. he wants to hold her small body in his arms and cradle her as he tends to her wounds. he wants to tuck her into a soft bed and stroke her brown hair. he wants to tell her how he feels, how she’s perfect, smart and beautiful in his eyes. how sol has already had his validation, and no matter how many kang sols there are, he will only have one in his heart.

as the clock leaves a minute or so to the end, sol struggles to keep her head from falling. she just needs to finish the last sentence. her eyes are blurred and her head has never felt more tight and woozy. her ramyeon from 4am is threatening to make an appearance.

“sol, you’re bleeding.” she hears an familiar echoed voice say next to her. instinctively, she brings a hand up to her nose, and wipes it, revealing the bright red blood. she can’t care for her jacket sleeve and carelessly wipes even though her arm aches. just a bit more, she tells herself.

the voices around her blur as she feels hands on her shoulder stopping her. she pushes them off weakly as she finishes the last word on her paper. she lets out a breath of relief and pushes her paper away from her. she’s finally done. she can finally breathe and have that nap. someone calls her name, but she’s too tired to respond.

then her eyes rolls back and she crashes into oblivion.

joon hwi manages to catch her head before it hits the table as she slumps sideways. he scribbles his name on his paper before chucking his paper and hers towards the teaching assistant. yeseul passes a tissue over to joon hwi and shakes her, eyes getting teary. he gently blots her nose, soaking up the blood. the other students leave unbothered, with only their study group crowding around them.

the next hour is a mad rush in joon hwi’s head. they are frantic for an ambulance, but joon hwi just cradles her body in his arms and runs outside. “it’s faster to run.” he says before taking off. she’s light, way too light for her frame, even with the layered coats that she’s wearing. when he reaches the hospital, she’s laid on a stretcher and sent for checks while the nurses ask him to wait for short while outside.

and for the third time, he stands outside, clutching to a bloody tissue, helpless.

-----

joon hwi wants to beat himself over and over. he should have been more forceful with her. heck, he should have done more than just watch silently. he should have sent packed lunches, compiled his notes, offered to stay up with her. even after when he knows how much sol is suffering, he only stood by.

his eyes are teary when he is allowed to see her. she looks so small under those white sheets. the doctor mentions that they had to take her hoodie off to patch her wounds and insert her IV drip. “dehydrated on caffeine, lack of nutrients and fatigue.” the doctor tells him. he only nods as the doctor leaves him.

his group chat is pinging with endless messages and he takes a moment to update them. he sends a quick text that he’ll let them know when she’s awake. his hand brushes the stray hairs out of her eyes and as best as he can, arranges her bangs the way she likes. his touch is as light as a butterfly as he lets his fingers brush pass her bandages.

with the curtain closed around him, joon hwi lets himself crumble silently, as tears run down his face, hands gripping sol’s stained hoodie sleeve. he wishes he could do something then just watch sol lie on the bed. he knows she is okay, but knowing that he could have prevented this worse case scenario from happening makes him upset. he gives himself a few minutes to compose himself before taking his own hoodie and layering it on her.

and for hours, joon hwi sits by her bed in his own thoughts, once again helpless.

-----

when she wakes up, her head pounds worse than the time she got the worse hangover in school. her eyes flutter, drawing the attention of joon hwi. her mind is cloudy as she starts registering the antiseptic smell and bright lights. her eyes come into focus as she turns over to find a pair of warm brown eyes looking at her.

“joon hwi...?” she says with barely any energy.

“you’re awake.” joon hwi lets himself sigh in relief knowing that she’s awake. it’s already 6pm. the others should be on their way over soon. he sends a quick “she’s awake” to the chat and shuts his phone.

“i... finished my exam right?” the words come tumbling out of sol’s mouth.

“that’s all you are thinking of now?” the anger in joon hwi’s voice catches her by surprise. she lowers her hand and avoids his eyes. she’s really done it, then. she’s really pissed him off.

“aren’t you one bit concerned about your health? you could have literally died being so overworked.” his eyes are glassy. realising that he’s frightening her, he lets a sigh out. joon hwi helps her sit up and props a pillow for her. her fingers fiddle with the thin blanket of the bed. there’s no point being strong in front of him now, after all this.

“you know how much every test means to me.” she mutters in a voice so soft, it’s unlike her to be so...small. joon hwi knows under that strong woman with a fiery passion for justice, there’s a vulnerable little girl, insecure and uncertain. but this was the first time, he realised, that she’s opening up herself.

“i’m so tired, joon. i’m so tired of running this stupid rat race that i’ll never win. i’m so sick of putting everything into my grades and not receiving anything back.” her voice so small, staring at the bandages on her hand. was the pain worth it? she’s not sure now.

joon hwi doesn’t say anything back. how could he? this man was born for this system, to bring law back to the country. he can’t compare to her, who spends countless nights studying, while taking care of her family. all he can do is sit by her bed and provide comfort.

“my head hurts. my body aches all over. yet, i can’t seem to do well in my exams. tell me, joon. just how long must i suffer?” his heart is pierced with every word she says. she’s so broken. joon hwi then notices the small pearls of tears dripping down her face.

his hand reaches out and his thumb rubs away her tears on her cheeks. he doesn’t know what prompted this, but sol doesn’t swat his hand away. she lets him as her hand wipes her remaining tears away.

“i’m here now. you can rely on me.” he says softly to her. suddenly, he takes her small hand in his and squeezes it in comfort. sol’s slightly taken aback, but she doesn’t know why she feels fuzzy inside. she feels warm and for the first time, she feels her burden lifted. with much courage, she gives a small smile.

“noona!” they hear a familiar panicked voice ring and they instinctively draw away from each other. if joon hwi’s face is slightly red, sol doesn't notice. sol is swept away into arguing with bokgi with her health and a teary eyed yeseul. even jiho and sol b came, but stood by silently. (jiho notices joon hwi’s flushed cheeks and his too-bright smile that he finally realises is meant for kang sol a. he makes a mental note about it.)

joon hwi leans back as he watches yeseul and bokgi fuss with sol’s health. he suppresses a smile as he looks at sol’s light laugh, knowing how her burdens are slowly fading and lifted. that he’s finally managed to reach out for his soulmate as she sinks further. it was going to be a journey, but joon hwi will drag her, his sol, out from her darkness every time.

i’m going to be there, no matter what, kang sol. you will not fight alone. i will stay with you, even when you think you don’t deserve it. it doesn't matter if you feel the same towards me or not. if i can see you smile and laugh, it’s enough for me. your happiness is all that matters.

because kang sol, i just love you so damm much.

-----

sol doesn’t notice the switch in her jacket. when she leaves about an hour later with her friends to eat jjajangmyeon (extra pickles, she orders.), she assumes the jacket she has by her bed is hers. she doesn't notice the sandalwood and jasmine smell, as opposed to her pine scented fabrics. when joon hwi teases her and she argues back in annoyance, she’s carefree and light.

when joon hwi smiles at her with his sweet smile, she can’t help but think she’s so lucky that she has him, of all people, by her side. her heart skips a beat, and she’s certain that she feels more than friends towards him. that all this time, she has finally fallen for the cheeky and charming joon hwi behind his intellect.

she smiles back, teeth bared and eyes crinkled as they walk back.

after all, who is to stand against her now, when she has him by her side?

joon hwi, thank you for finding me no matter how much i try to hide away. thank you for believing in me when everyone didn’t. i know you like someone else, and it’s okay. because whoever that is will be so damm lucky to have you. to see you smile your charming smile is enough to put me at ease.

because han joon hwi, i admit, i have fallen for you. i’m in love with you.

-----

bonus:

“noona, they like each other, don’t they?” bokgi watches as sol a barks at joon hwi. joon hwi only runs ahead and buries his hands in his hoodie pockets while letting out light laughs and continues teasing.

“oh, they are so whipped for each other.” yeseul triumphantly says as she walks with the rest behind the not-so-obvious lovebirds.

well, this would be an interesting relationship to see unfold.

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mistaeq · 4 years

Note

One scoop of Bucci gang HCs for the first time quiet reader bursts out laughing in front of them please!

Bucciarati Gang: with a Quiet s/o who Bursts out Laughing

TW // none

Thank you for your request! Bucciarati Gang, my favourite dorky compatriots <3 hope you enjoy, I had fun writing these!

Bucciarati Gang with a quiet s/o who bursts out laughing in front of them, neutral!s/o

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

GIORNO GIOVANNA

You first burst out laughing in front of Giorno when nature itself betrays him and he can't stop sneezing because of the pollen coming from a flower he had grown himself. Karma? An unlucky day? You may never know.

Having been with Giorno a lot, you learnt that plant's effect isn't dangerous, so you can look at your boyfriend getting mad over sneezes, and he's absolutely hilarious. You're sorry that this is happening to him, don't get it twisted, but seeing his chill behavior get lost for this mess is priceless.

He's not only pissed off because he keeps on sneezing, but he's also pissed off because he'd totally like to hear that unexpected laughter of yours clearly, without his sneezes covering it every now and then. He doesn't know when this chance might ever come back, and he wants to clearly hear you.

His frantic and clumsy moves while his nose keeps on betraying him cause his perfectly donut shaped hairstyle to ruin, golden locks falling on his forehead and his braid becoming a messy load of fluffy hair covering his neck.

"Y/n... will you..." sneeze. "..w-will you stop staring..." sneeze. "..it's kinda embarrassing... m-mamma mia..." sneeze. "..but no... no, don't stop laughing... p-plea.. a.." s n e e z e.

After he manages to stop sneezing, his shocked look and his red cheeks let a last giggle come from you, as you hold him tight and leave a sweet peck on his nose. You caress his hair, you find him so attractive even without his signature hairstyle, and that's worth some sneezes, isn't it.

LEONE ABBACCHIO

You first burst out laughing in front of Leone when you hear him curse in front of his mirror because his clothes won't fit him anymore. His chest was too broad.

Abbacchio chose not to use curse words in front of you, that's why when you catch him red handed, swearing and cursing at his clothes, you can't help finding him funny. As soon as he hears you laughing, he winces and turns around.

"Fuck... come on... why won't this fit..." he was pulling the irremovable fabric on his shoulder. "Maybe my chest is now too big... what the hell, come on... mamm ro Carmn... [Neapolitan dialect for: Carmine's mom. Not a cute thing to say. It's an angry neapolitan "mamma mia".]" then, he heard you laughing, and winced.

When he sees the big smile on your face when you lovingly laugh at him, he's petrified. He hates hearing this type of laughing, because it's the exact thing Mista and Narancia do all the time. But on you? You sound so happy and relieved, and Leone likes it. For real.

He just stands there, half his chest and a shoulder being naked, looking like a disheveled princess. Too funny. He huffs and ignores you, to make you think he's annoyed. But you know him too well, and know that if he's hiding his face, it's because he's actually smiling, too.

You hug him from behind, looking at your reflection in the mirror still in front of him. Abbacchio looks over his naked shoulder, right where you are, leaving a tender kiss on his skin, before giggling once again. He turns around, and kisses you, leaving his purple lipstick all over your cute mouth. He likes your laughter better, like this.

GUIDO MISTA

You first burst out laughing in front of Guido when you're practising together with cooking. And he just can't believe it, when you laugh so hard just for a pun of his. You are baking some good bread to share it with the gang.

He takes your hand and smiled. "Are you a garden, y/n?" Guido asks you, before throwing a handful of flour on you. "Because I feel like my love for you is FLOURishing!" you burst out laughing, holding onto him, spreading flour on his apron, too.

That genuine, happy laugh really warms his heart, he feels his knees get weaker and his negative thoughts fly away. He could listen to that forever. Mista is just so shocked. It takes for him a couple of seconds to realize what happened, before he finally holds you back.

Seeing you silent all day makes him kinda sad, and one of his dreams was making you laugh like that. He has been putting a lot of effort for that, but manages to do it only when he's his actual self, with a simple pun.

"My love for you is FLOURishing too, Guido..." you manage to answer, your cheeks obtaining a cute, irresistible red color, as you get on tiptoe and peck his beautiful lips. He's totally enamored, he's under your spell and can't believe you answered his pun so well.

When you get back to your work, he sometimes still hears you giggle, thinking of how bad yet cheesy that pun was. But it made you unwillingly burst out laughing, so you guess it's okay just the way it is.

FUGO PANNACOTTA

You first burst out laughing in front of Fugo when you see him getting angry over Narancia not knowing maths. Fugo promised himself and Bruno not to physically hurt Narancia again like what happened with the fork in his cheek.

This being said, the only way for Fugo to express his anger is screeching on his chair. When you hear that sound coming from your boyfriend, you can't hold back your laughter. It was so unexpected and someway unbelievably cute. Narancia is just scared.

Fugo hears the angelic bells of love in his heart, as if God himself came down from the paradise and graced his ears with your laughing voice. It immediately calms him down. But if he calms down, you stop laughing.

"Why isn't 8 ÷2 = 3? If I split an 8 in half I get a three!" after hearing Narancia mumbling those words, Fugo screeches again, and you giggle even louder. But you understand the poor boy can't keep on getting angry just to hear you laugh.

That's why you soon stop, approaching Fugo and resting your magical hands on his shoulders, giving him a massage because he's a great teacher and he's doing his best. His moans while you help him relaxing his shoulders make you shyly giggle too.

"Why does this sound sexual?" Fugo wishes he could kill Narancia. But he's too focused on your hands working on his shoulders to care, and quietly screeches as you giggle again.

NARANCIA GHIRGA

You first burst out laughing in front of Narancia when you see Fugo getting angry over him not knowing maths. Narancia is shook, kinda confused on why what he wrote isn't correct.

Fugo screeches on his chair, he promised not to hurt your boyfriend, who shows you his paper, looking at you with a questioning look, probably asking you why what he wrote is wrong. You burst out laughing as you read. Narancia is a complete mess.

As soon as he hears you, he completely forgets about maths for a second, focusing on the sound of your beautiful laughter. Narancia is baby, if the person he loves the most laughs, he doesn't care what's the reason, he laughs with you. Then, he kinda remembers why you started giggling in first place.

"For real though. Y/n, why isn't 8 ÷ 2 = 3? If I split an 8 in half I get a three!" after hearing Narancia mumbling those words, you laugh even harder, desperate Fugo witnessing your boyfriend throwing away his maths notebook and run into your arms.

You're usually so silent and he may never know when he's gonna hear you again like that. You two laugh together so much that you start panting, your faces red with big smiles and almost sweating.

"Why does this look sexual?" Narancia wishes he could kill Fugo. But he's too focused on your little giggles and your cute smile as you lean on his shoulder and kiss his cheek. He might be not so perfect in maths, but he's perfect in making you so happy.

TRISH UNA

You first burst out laughing in front of Trish after you trip on a piece of furniture and risk falling on the ground. But as soon as your body touches the ground, you feel it jiggly and soft, bouncing a little on it.

Just a moment before you thought you were gonna get a few bruises after falling on the ground, but now you're just there, happily bouncing on Spicy Lady's brand new jiggly floor and laughing out loud, staring at your girlfriend's surprised expression.

You've never laughed like that before, and Trish is pleasantly surprise to see that her stand's work has such a good effect on your mood and on you, in general. She might consider making more objects jiggly, if this is what you like. All she cares about is seeing you happy and amused.

"Tell me, y/n..." she gets closer to your figure jumping and loudly giggling, and stares at you with loving eyes. "Would you mind it, if I jumped with you too? You look like you're having fun..."

You couldn't ask for anything more. You moved a little to let Trish join you, grabbing both your hands and jumping along with you, finally laughing so you can see her beautiful smile, even though she's the one who cares about seeing yours. Your girlfriend would do anything for you... even disobey Bucciarati.

"You... you two had to clean the house while we were away... it was your turn, this morning!" the capo's jaw fell as soon as he saw the mess Spicy Lady had done. Nothing that couldn't be fixed, but what matters is that afterwards, you and her laugh together remembering Bucciarati's expression. Then, she kisses your smile in case it would take a lot for it to come back.

BRUNO BUCCIARATI

You first burst out laughing in front of Bruno when his stand disobeys him and opens a zipper through a wall to reach for your room and cuddle with you.

His shocked face and Sticky Fingers's cute, happy sounds are too hilarious for you to keep a serious expression. You're so used to see Bucciarati as the authoritarian type of person who has everything under his control, but now he doesn't and he's quite panicking.

Even more shocking for Bruno is seeing how you actually let his stand cuddle with you, a warm laughter coming from your sweet lips, he loves so much. Music for his tired capo ears.

He can't help staring at you with a loving smile. Moments like these don't happen that much, and God knows when you're gonna do that beautiful sound again. He secretly thanks Sticky Fingers for doing all of this, but since it's his soul, there's no need to say it out loud.

"Your laugh is one of the best sounds my ears ever witnessed, tesoro. I might want Sticky Fingers to disobey me more, if this is the result..." then, he'd bring a hand of yours to his lips and kiss it, kiss your smile, kiss your precious laughter.

Even if you stop laughing, Bruno enjoys your little giggles while his stand strokes your hair and purrs when you caress its head. As the user feels what the stand feels, your hand caressing Sticky Fingers caresses Bruno too, and he'll eventually giggle with you.

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isthisthingeven0n · 3 years

Text

hear you : a.h

after celebrating your promotion with hotch, it tragically ends in an accident with you hospitalised and comatose. yet, somehow you can hear everyone around you, wishing for you to wake up. (1.9k)

all my links

hear you / every word

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK - IT IS ALL MY OWN WRITING

Everything that night occurred in an instant. No one had time to change what happened, even if you wished the events had happened in a different order.

If you hadn’t left the restaurant first and walked ahead whilst Hotch admired the fleeting moment. You were laughing giddily as you turned to face him, his arms were crossed over his chest as you danced, still joyful after celebrating your promotion. Perhaps if he caught up to you it would’ve been someone else lying on the ground.

Yet, as you lie on the ground, life draining from your gaze you can’t help but wonder; what if?

The events that lead to you strapped to a hospital bed lifelessly could have all been avoided. If the driver hadn’t drunk away his sorrows before picking up his children, families would still be together and one less hospital bed would be filled.

All you can hear is the monotone beeping of your heart monitor. The stench of antibacterial sprays and gels embed themselves into your nostrils alongside the fragrant flowers from Garcia that litter your private room. But out of everything in your environment, there’s one thing you’re still waiting on; to hear him, to hear Hotch by your side.

What you’re currently certain of is that you’re asleep, comatose. Yet, you can hear everything. This was the sort of thing you’d witnessed happen in TV shows, and you’ve listened to Spencer sitting beside you, explaining to Penelope that there have been no claims of comatose patients hearing voices. How they can hear movements or faint sounds, but no details of conversations. All you can do is wait whilst you remain trapped in your own thoughts, unable to react to anything said.

Your daily routine since being ‘awake’ is being checked multiple times a day by various Doctors and Nursers. They’re very caring as they monitor your heart rate, brain waves, temperature and your comfort levels. You listen to them report technical jargon to one another, and now you wish you paid more attention to Spencer last week after he visited his old Doctor.

Thankfully, you’re allowed to have visitors which makes all the difference- even if they are oblivious to the impact they’re making.

The first person to visit you tends to be Garcia, you can hear the urgency in her footsteps as her heels click against the lament flooring. She sits with you for a while before work, telling you about how Morgan keeps singing out of tune whilst she is on the phone to him. You wish you could laugh at the little things she describes, hearing about your family try and carry on without you.

Spencer stops by after work with JJ. You can hear how his voice cracks when he sits beside you, JJ on your other side as she rests her hand on yours. Spencer recites facts about comatose patients and if often interrupted by JJ with some happier news about Henry and describes the drawing she brought. You wish you could see it, feel the textures of the paint and cotton he used.

Yet, as much as you love your family, he still hasn’t been.

“Hey, baby girl.” You hear Morgan walk over toward you, pulling the ancient chair out as it squeaks against the floor. “Garcia tells me you’ve been on your own all day,” He begins and you internally chuckle. “and we can’t have that so I thought you’d love nothing more than your best man to come on by.” Morgan nudges your hand playfully and laughs to himself.

You’re desperate to laugh along, joke back like old times, tell him how much Penelope has been going on about their phone conversations and the workplace issues that have arisen.

“I know you haven’t seen him yet,” Morgan’s tone changes, the light-heartedness has dropped. “but he has been trying, trust me, we see it every day.” A sigh follows from him, and Morgan drops his head in his hands, thankful you haven’t had to witness the state Hotch has been getting himself into.

“He tries every day to come and see you, baby girl. He, he makes it to the entrance of the hospital and just,” Morgan knows exactly what it is, but he doesn’t want to tell you.

Sometimes, the silence is enough for you to figure it out. ‘It isn’t his fault.’ You want to yell out, scream at the top of your lungs, but you remain motionless, simply listening.

Hotch enters the hospital every day since the accident. He came in with you, running by your side as you were wheeled straight into surgery. He stood still as the doors slammed in front of him, taking you out of his sight.

“But erm, we found out about the guy who caused this. His name was Robert Kingshill.” Morgan starts, unaware that both Penelope and Spencer have already explained the details to you. You home in and out of Morgan’s explanation about how Robert was an abusive husband, his children both under 5 years. “He died on arrival.”

‘And no one will miss him.’

“Sorry to interrupt,” A new voice chimes in, one of the nurses who has been seeing to you; Savannah. She’s sweet, attentive and engages with your family. “I just have to check her vitals, I’ll be a few minutes at most.”

“Of course, do you want me to step out?” Morgan asks, his voice softening after he clears his throat. You can almost picture him sitting up straighter, flashing that signature Derek Morgan smirk.

“It’s okay, are we still on for dinner tonight?” Savannah asks, catching you completely off guard as your heart rate spikes. “Shit.” She mutters, watching as your heart rate relaxes once more, back to a normal pace.

“What was that?” Morgan speaks up, concern lacing his tone.

Savannah remains silent for a moment, too long for your liking. “Just a spike, they can happen now and then.” She brushes it off and steps out of the room, leaving Morgan with you alone once more.

“Do you think she can hear us?” Garcia asks as her hand remains in yours, holding it gently whilst Emily hovers by the window, watching as the rain falls against the window.

A loud disheartened sigh echoes. “I don’t know, Pen.” Emily states as she turns around. “But if she can, it’s kinda rude for her not to wake up.” Emily chuckles, and Penelope joins in for a second.

“If you can hear us, Y/n,” Penelope starts, and you can hear the shake in her voice. “we all love you, and miss you dearly.”

“We’re all still here, and will be until you wake up.” Emily adds as she smiles to Penelope, holding her hand out as she gladly accepts as tears fill her eyes once more.

Sniffing to herself, Penelope glances over to the empty doorway. “And, and Hotch misses you, Y/n. I know, I know he hasn’t been here yet, but he loves you, and Jack does too.”

The thought of Jack causes your heart to ache, how you miss that boy deeply in the evenings when you would go over. Jack would always ask for your help with homework or read with him before he went to sleep. Last month, he called you ‘Mom’ and you didn’t know how to react, neither did Aaron. But you let it happen, and carried it on.

Just as Jack felt he had a new Mom, he was at risk of losing her too.

“Come on, we ought to go, let her rest.” Emily states as she walks over to Penelope, taking her arm.

If only they could hear you. You were done with resting.

It has almost been a month. At least that is what you hear them say. Outside it has become colder, snow comes and goes, but it never sticks. With ease, you can now clearly differentiate the nurses and the doctors’ voices, even by the sigh after they do their checks. You’ve heard them discuss your frequent brain activity, which is a good sign. They’re now thinking you’re going to wake up, that it could be any day. But then again, they’ve been saying that for the last two weeks.

Another Doctor walks in and checks over you, nothing out of the ordinary as you wish he would stop humming that awful TV show tune. “You have a visitor this morning, Miss Y/L/N.” He states which is unusual, your visitors are never announced to you, they just sort of appear.

Your ears perk up to the sound of shuffling, quickly followed by a restricted sob, one you sadly could pinpoint; Aaron.

“Hi, Y/n,” Aaron quietly speaks up, his voice hoarse as the chair scrapes across the floor and he reaches out, taking your cold hand in his. “I’m sorry I haven’t been sooner.” He turns to business mode, forcing confidence even though he’s breaking apart, seeing you like this. “I just,”

‘It’s okay, Aaron. Take your time.’ You want to tell him, that it’s not easy, nothing about this is. But you simply listen as he exhales shakily and he takes lifts his other hand, enveloping yours into both of his.

A small sigh breaks the moment of silence. “Jack, he keeps asking about where you are. I’m running out of options here, Y/n.” He chuckles out of worry. “Jessica has been great, taking care of him and everything, I’ve barely left my office since the accident.” Hotch explains, seeing flashes of light illuminating you that night, like an angel. The excitement in your expression turning to pure terror as he ran toward you, but was too late.

Hotch was always too late to save the women he loves.

“I just, I need you, Y/n.” Hotch mutters. “I can’t lose you too, I just can’t.” Soft cries sound from him as the door opens, and he sniffs quietly.

“Sorry to interrupt, I’ll come back later.” Someone speaks up, and Hotch nods to them before returning his attention to you.

He tried not to stare at the evident wounds and scars that will line your skin forever. The stitches on your forehead from where you hit the ground.

Hotch will never forget how he held you in his arms as you were bleeding, eyes glazed over as he yelled for you to keep your eyes open.

“I know sometimes things aren’t always easy for us, with cases and barely having time to ourselves. But I really wanted that night to be special, you deserved a night to be reminded how wonderful you are.” Hotch chuckles dryly, looking around the room. “Look where that got us.”

‘It’s not your fault, Aaron.’ You scream internally, wishing you could just take hold of his hand, squeeze it tightly and never let go. ‘Please, just listen to me, please.’

“I know it’s taken me too long to get here, but I don’t know if I can do this, Y/n.” Hotch’s voice hitches as his hands begin to slip out from yours. “Reid mentioned how talking to comatose patients is supposed to help but er, I guess we’ll eventually find out.”

Rising to his feet, you plead for him to stay, to not leave you here alone.

“I love you Y/n.” Hotch calls out as he stands in the doorway, seeing your chest rising and falling rhythmically, remembering the days where you’d lie beside him in bed, enjoying the moment of tranquil before Jack wound run through the door, waking you from a deep sleep. “I promise I’ll be back soon.”

As Hotch turns the corner, he can’t stop the tears from falling as he collapses against one of the walls. Silent cries sound from his lips as a Nurse approaches him, but he brushes her off.

“Aar,” Your lips begin to part, a faint sound leaving them. But then silence returns, and you’re still trapped in your mind, wishing he could return.

PART TWO

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hunflowers · 3 years

Text

The Aftermath

Word Count: 3.7k

Requested? Yes, and you can too, here :)

A/N: here she is, the little piece of the puzzle y’all have been waiting for. it’s a small part two of 1964, and it’ll take place just after their reunion at the end of the story!! i hope you enjoy it, because i missed writing my babies a lot and i hope you love them just as much as me.

pls, reblog the fics you read or heck even if you see it on your dash; it means a lot <3

good luck and have fun, in that order *nose boops*

“Happy Birthday, Rose.”

No one can explain the phenomenon of joy processed through the body and soul as Harry spoke those simple words into the air to Y/N.

It can only be described as a chill shooting down her spine, flaring goosebumps on her skin, her mouth running dry at the sight of him, or maybe the way her eyes glossed over with a glistening sheen. Pure joy.

As if she didn't already feel transported back to 1964 when sharing her many stories with her eager to learn granddaughter, she certainly did now. Seeing Harry's face, the same features that made her swoon all those years ago - though a little mature now - made her feel like she was her twenty-one year old self all over again.

It felt like a movie, as if the two of them shaped back into their younger statures, adorned in the style from way back when, embodying a world of black and white that would explode into color. Hannah and Eleanor disappeared into the future, and all there was, was Harry and Y/N like how they once were.

Before she could process what she was doing, Y/N was scurrying across the wood floor, walking the fast she has in a while, throwing her arms around Harry’s shoulders and burying her face into the crook of his neck. She could feel the rumble of his chest as he laughed, easily reciprocating the love by engulfing her in a hug, pulling her impossibly closer.

The smell of the roses swarmed Y/N’s nose, tingling her senses in the best way possible. Her brain was overpowering as it continued to be overwhelmed by the events happening, still trying to understand how Harry, her H, was in front of her.

Pulling away a few moments later - but not completely unraveling herself from his hold - she looked up at him, looking at her favorite shade of green that she tried so hard to recreate yet always failed. “Are you really here?”

“Yes! He is, Nona!” Ellie cheered from behind her, causing everyone to gape at her while also laughing. He’s really here, in her arms, breathing the same air as her.

Maybe he wasn’t a dream, after all.

Looking back up at him, Y/N smiled softly, bringing her hands up under his jaw, using her thumbs to caress the soft skin that was lined with a little bit of stubble. “I missed you,” she whispered, almost like it was meant to be a secret.

With his own little grin, Harry placed his own free hand on her cheek, using his thumb to swipe the tear that managed to escape her eye without her noticing. Instinctively, Y/N leaned her head to rest in his palm, a reflex she never seemed to have shake.

Harry didn’t have to say anything back for her to know that he felt the same way, if not more. His actions always spoke a lot louder than his words, and it also seemed that old habits hardly seem to die, even so many years later.

“Okay,” Hannah cleared her throat, trying to gain the attention of the two older folk for the first time in the last couple of minutes. “We’re meeting Aunt Carmella and Uncle Frank in twenty minutes.”

The duo separated, heat rising to their cheeks as they realized just how close they had been for those moments. Harry offered her her bouquet of roses, to which she took gratefully and scurried off to find a vase, uttering a quick, “I’ll be right back.”

In reality, yes she went to find a vase, but Y/N also needed a second to recuperate, inhaling deeply to get her heart to start slowing its rapid pace. Fifty-five years since she’s seen him.

Fifty-five.

It was a lot to comprehend. She was convinced she’d never look at him, hold him, appreciate his existence ever again. One thing is for sure, she never did stop loving him.

Y/N placed her hands down on the counter she placed her roses on, leaning her weight onto her hands as she felt the emotions roll over her like waves crashing on a beach. Her insides felt like mush. She was experiencing the come down after getting off a rowdy rollercoaster, like those she used to go on on Coney Island whenever she visited New York. Electricity shot through her veins as if she had been succumbed to the consequences of the electric chair - yet it wasn’t painful. In fact, she felt alive.

“Mom,” Hannah spoke from behind her, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. Y/N didn’t realize she had been so lost in her own thoughts for a few moments there. Raising her hand to her chest, she turned around and let out a breath, before smacking her daughter in the shoulder.

“You can’t do that to me, Han. I’m old, I could die from a heart attack.”

“Don’t even joke about something like that,” Hannah rolled her eyes. But quickly the annoyance dissipated as she remembered why she came into the kitchen in the first place. “Are you okay?”

Y/N pursed her lips, giving her a simple shrug. “Yes and no. It’s not easy being reminded of... the love and pain I felt. How did you even find him, anyway?”

Hannah sheepishly smiled, “Aunt Carmella...”

Y/N scoffed, knowing it was exactly like her friend to be secretive about something so monumental like knowing where Harry is and how to contact him. She couldn’t determine if it was a good thing that Carmella kept this information from her, but deep down she knew it was.

As soon as Y/N gathered her wits, the foursome were out the door and on their way to lunch. They had decided to drive two separate cars, and after a bit of begging, Y/N let Harry drive them in his rental. Though, along the way it was a bit of rocky journey. “First time driving on the right side of the road,” was his excuse.

In the car ride, Y/N took the time to truly admire the man she once laid beside at night, trying to wrap her head around the fact that he was next to her again. She wondered if in his old age he would turn wrinkled and decrepit, maybe using a cane or having a hunch back. It only seemed fitting that he beat all of those stereotypes and looked like he had the health of his younger self rather than a seventy-six year old man. He’s timeless; just like their love.

When they finally met up with Carmella, it didn’t take Y/N long to scold her friend for keeping such a humongous secret from her, and working in tandem with her own daughter and granddaughter. All the Italian woman did was shrug before latching her arms around both Harry and Y/N’s frames, pulling the three of them close for a long-awaited, reuniting hug that felt like home.

“Il trio è tornato e meglio che mai. questo merita un brindisi,” [The trio is back and better than ever. This deserves a toast] Carmella cheered, clapping her hands in giddiness as she waved the waitress back over to order the most extravagant wine.

Leaning down to whisper in Y/N’s ear, Harry muttered, “And I still have no idea what she’s saying.” Y/N bumped his shoulder with hers, shaking her head gently as a small smile snuck up onto her lips.

Lunch was shared with many laughs and old stories - all per the request of Ellie. She was eager to keep learning and eager to see her nona so happy.

When lunch was over and they were all saying goodbye, Ellie practically all but pushed Y/N to go with Harry so they could go somewhere private. Hannah of course condoned her daughter’s behavior, but also told her mom it was for the best they catch up without either of them around. They needed to be alone.

That’s how they ended up at the park downtown, where Y/N used to frequent often when she used to run in the mornings or whenever she needed a spark of creativity for her next painting.

Once Harry placed the car in park, the stagnant tension between them only rose as neither of them jumped to get out of the vehicle. They simmered, absorbed, melted into the atmosphere, basking in it before they flipped it on its head to talk about what they both had been avoiding.

It was an unspoken truce to get out of the car at the same time. The sun was winking at them through the clouds, luring them to venture deeper into the park, just like it used to. Almost as if the star was just as excited as them to be back in each other’s lives. The saying is if walls could talk, but what about the sun? Or the moon? Both kept Harry and Y/N’s moments inside of them, stored deep in their cores right next to all the other love that happened in their line of vision.

Out of instinct, the two locked hands. And they didn’t seem to mind. It felt like a magnet pulled them together, and it would take a lot of force to break them apart.

As they walked along the paved path, being passed by those on bikes or joggers, or really even anyone that walked faster. They weren’t in any sort of rush, because moments like these aren’t meant to be fast paced. They needed to simmer, absorb, and melt.

Harry decided to be the first to speak up, surprising both of them considering, well, his past. “I see the artist life treated you well.”

Slightly turning her head to face him, she laughed softly, shrugging her shoulders. “I guess it did. You predicted it.”

I can’t wait to buy your art one day.

Harry gazed down at his feet, humming a response. He didn’t have the proper words to respond to her allusion to his letter. Hearing the twinge of spite sitting on top of her words was enough for him to gauge that his letter was a sore topic for her. And rightfully so, because even he hasn’t completely forgiven himself for not giving her a proper goodbye.

Coming up on a patch of grass that was half hidden beneath a large oak tree and half in the glory of the sunlight, Harry and Y/N decided to take a seat. If they were going to throw themselves into the past, might as well go all the way and lay in the grass like they did in Florence. Albeit, they wouldn’t actually lay down because it would’ve been impossible for either of them to properly get up.

They rested their backs against the large trunk, looking out into the field and watching little kids play around as their parents kept their distance off to the side with other parents. Y/N found it near impossible to not snap a mental picture of what was in front of her, cursing herself for not bringing her camera with her. It was a beautiful day, and one she wished to remember. Not because of the dreadful conversation that was bound to swallow her whole or the man sitting beside her, but because of the landscape.

What a waste of a beautiful day.

Now, it was her turn to break the silence, because she knew he wouldn’t. He may have once, but that was all he could probably handle. “Tell me about your life, Harry. Please.”

Letting out a breath of air he didn’t realize he had been holding in, Harry twiddled with his thumbs in his lap. “Got two kids. Ben and, uh, Rose.”

Ouch.

“Five beautiful grandchildren.” He spoke shortly and to the point, finding it very difficult to open up the can of worms that is his life.

Once Harry got the call from Carmella that he was going to surprise Y/N for her birthday, he couldn’t get on a plane any faster. The idea of being face-to-face with her again after so many years was daunting and normally he found it difficult to escape his confined box of reality. But that was the thing about Y/N, she always made things seem less terrible to him.

England is his origin and where his family resides, but it hardly felt like home anymore.

His marriage with Nancy balanced on its very thin, tight rope for thirty years, but they both knew it was bound to fall off. Once he returned from Italy, it was like he was a soldier returning from war, because he in no way was the same man who left for Italy when coming home. But, they pushed on, because it was what they were meant to do.

They had two wonderful kids and they seemed like the picturesque family they were planned to be. Behind closed doors, they were anything but. He and Nancy fought a lot and their kids seemed to loathe him for reasons still unbeknownst to him. He supported them and loved them like any parent would, yet it felt like they joined everyone else in his life that wanted to keep him silent. Everyone except one person.

Once his and Nancy’s divorce was finalized, the kids couldn’t be more thrilled. All they needed was a solid reason to drop their father out of their lives. As the years went on they slowly worked him back into their day-to-day routine, but not really. Only for the sake of his grandkids was he in their lives.

It was especially hard living his life knowing his own creations couldn’t stand him just like everyone else, and that was exactly why he couldn’t agree faster to get on a plane to America.

“I officially retired last year, so m’not really doing much these days. Actually, I picked up drawing again if y’could believe it. Haven’t touched a pencil for artistic purposes since... well, since then.” Their heads remained forward, not a single glance made towards one another because it felt easier this way.

Y/N listened intently to the drawl of his voice, engraving the words he spoke deep into her mind, right next to the dusty ones he spoke fifty-five years prior. Everything and anything he’s ever said rests idly on little bookshelves in her brain, collecting dust the longer she takes to go back and hear them over. It was nice to add new additions to her collection. “That sounds lovely, H.”

His heartstrings pulled at the use of his nickname, something only she would call him. He was only Harry to any one, both by his choice and because every one else was too prim to call him something else.

Y/N took notice to how he mentioned nothing of Nancy, and paired that with the fact he wasn’t wearing a wedding band on his most intimate finger. She thinks maybe he did it out of courtesy to not beckon any unwarranted anguish and pain for her sake - because that’s exactly why she didn’t wear hers.

When she went to put her flowers in a vase in the kitchen, she slid her engagement and wedding rings off her finger and set them down gently on the counter, not wanting to clash her two separate lives.

That’s why she had to ask about her. She couldn’t keep going if she didn’t have any sort of answer to her wondering questions that she’s had for the past five decades. “How’s Nancy?” Y/N didn’t care to actually know how she is, she just wanted to know their story.

The leaves above them blew in the suddenly apparent wind, threatening them that what they were about to indulge in was like a storm on the horizon. It was bound to come and impossible to avoid. “Dunno. Haven’t spoken to her in a couple of weeks.”

This opened the door to many unanswered questions in Y/N’s mind, sending her down on spiral of want and need for an explanation that he didn’t seem keen on giving. This closed the most important door, flooding her with relief she didn’t realize she needed to feel just a little less pain sitting next to him.

Not knowing just how to pose her next question, Harry beat her to the punch, halting her thoughts in her tracks. “We’re divorced.”

Divorced. A strange concept. Y/N never imagined divorcing her husband in all of the years they were married. It seemed trivial and time-consuming and led to no greater purpose in her mind. She could either be miserably alone, or miserable with a man by her side. The latter seemed the most comforting.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m not. We weren’t meant to be,” he chuckled, laughing not because it’s actually funny, but because Y/N knew they weren’t meant to be. It was obvious. “Just meaningless pieces in my parents puzzle.”

Hearing his broken words that he used to rant about all those years ago resurface, Y/N couldn’t help reaching for his hand again, clasping it between both of hers and holding it in her lap. It didn’t matter how many years had passed, because it was certain his parents were still a sore subject. She wanted him to know that she never forgot the hurt they put him through, and that she will always be on his side. Always.

Diverting the attention away from himself, it was Harry’s turn to pour salt into a wound he knew would sting harshly. “Did you uh, ever get married, Rose?”

When Carmella had managed to get his number a couple years after Italy, they kept in contact nearly every week. A lot of the time their topic of conversation would revolve around Y/N, and what ever new information Carmella could relay. One thing he refused to know however, was if she ever got married. He didn’t need to know, nor did he want to. But now, he supposes he does.

“I did. He passed in February.” The 1st. Coincidental, maybe ironic. “He was a good man.”

Silence. It was nice Y/N was able to settle herself with someone deemed to be good. It’s what she deserved. But Harry didn’t want to know anymore.

Silence. They kept their heads forward, but over time Y/N’s head slowly ended up resting on Harry’s shoulder. Their hands stayed latched and their bodies radiated each other’s warmth. Y/N felt cold though. Rehashing their pasts slowly brought them closure, but it in no way healed the pain that rested heavy on her heart. “I wish things could’ve been different for us, Harry.” They deserved different than what they were given. Why do soulmates exist if they can’t be together?

A love like theirs is folklore; unsure if it ever existed, but meant to be told for generations. “We were special don’t you think?”

“We were everything,” Harry murmured, squeezing her hands, then planting a gentle kiss to the crown of her head.

Y/N laughed again at his allusion, but she wasn’t laughing because it was funny, but because it stung like a wasp. Over and over again. “I’ve still got that stupid piece of paper, y’know. Your letter. Saved it all these years because it was all I had.”

The little anger she had left inside of her began to bubble up. Though it didn’t last very long as tears welled in her eyes, just like when she picked up the stupid paper for the first time. Grief stampeded her stomach like a herd of frightened elephants, bruising her deeply as the pain she felt from that day made itself known in the present.

“You didn’t say goodbye. Why didn’t you say goodbye?”

The wind picked up as the clouds in the sky completely covered the sun in forecast, hovering over Harry as a reminder, just in case he didn’t already know the pain he caused.

Pulling Y/N close to his chest, he let her cry, knowing it was best to not say anything at all. She wasn’t legitimately asking why he didn’t, but it felt good to get the question off her chest. So he let her cry, his own tears pricking his waterline, balancing on the edge before tumbling over and down onto his cheeks.

Just when the sun began to come out from its hiding spot, the two subsided their emotions, calming down just like the leaves above their heads. The storm had passed. All that’s left now is the aftermath.

“We don’t get forever, Rose. But we have each other now.”

Something tells them though that despite how many physical years they may have left with one another, they’ll always have forever. The thought rests easy on their minds.

With just a few more minutes of sitting in the grass and simmering, absorbing, melting, the duo decided it was time to get up. They were going to put the past behind them, starting with the fact that maybe they were too old to be sitting in the grass like they used to.

Laughs and giggles were exchanged as they both tried to get to their feet as gracefully as possible without drawing any attention to themselves. They were a heap of giggles and optimism as they retraced their steps back onto the pathway, heading back to his car.

It almost seemed like déjà vu the moment a speedy bicyclist zoomed past Y/N, nearly grazing her left side. She moved out of his way just in the nick of time, but haphazardly fell into Harry’s arms, who always seemed ready to catch her even in the most abrupt of times.

It all happened so fast yet also so slow, running parallel to the moment this exact occurrence happened fifty-five years ago. Their whole day ran parallel to their pasts, so it was only inevitable that that same electricity sparked through their bodies again.

They gazed into each other’s eyes the moment her body felt safe, that same magnet pulling them close enough that their mouths were only a few inches apart. Not a single word was exchanged as their breaths mingled together and their fingers gripped each other forcefully.

Remembering when she told Ellie about their first electric moment, Ellie immediately questioned if the two of them had kissed because it seemed like the perfect moment. Disappointingly, they didn’t.

She would hate to disappoint her granddaughter again.

So, this time they did.

It was the perfect moment, after all.

#artist babies will always be special to me :’)#harry styles blurb #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles writing #harry styles #one direction fanfiction

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junko-and-riri-domain · 3 years

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❦ home | ni-ki

↬ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: nishimura riki / ni-ki x reader ↬ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: fluff | friends to lovers | requested ↬ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: none ↬ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.9k oops ↬ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: @onionhaseyeo ↬ ɴᴏᴛᴇ:

request was ni-ki fluff with a best friends to lovers storyline

i sorta wrote this in the car while I was out lol not sure if this is what you wanted but I hope you like it 💞(sorry if some parts are cringy 😭)

for those who read the tatts & cupcakes series the next chapter will (probably) come either later this week or early next week! since spring break is coming up next week i'm hoping to be able to spend more time writing :)

Entering what was now your 1st grade class, slight fear settled in the pit of your stomach since you were now the new kid at a new school. As your eyes landed on a certain brown-haired boy in the corner of the room, your fear disappeared slightly. He sat alone focused on his Nintendo Switch. Letting go of your mom’s hand, she called out your name but you practically ran to the boy. Merely looking at him gave you a sort of happiness that you’ve only felt whenever your favorite food was made for dinner.

Annoyance settled within Ni-ki as a face popped into his line of sight, distracting him from his game. Everyone in class knew better than to bother him. His eyes settled on you with a gaze that made you squeak and jump back slightly. He didn’t expect to see someone so… he wasn’t quite sure what the word was yet. Why did looking at you make him feel similar to the happiness he felt dancing? Instead of ignoring you, he took out the blue controller of his Nintendo Switch, silently handing it to you. You took the controller, fingers brushing against each other but too young to realize what the sparks meant.

“I don’t know how to play,” you said.

“I’ll teach you,” he answered. Going home that same day, you found out that you lived next door to each other.

In 4th grade, Ni-ki discovered that when he climbed the tree in his backyard, he was able to get to your room window without having to leave the house through the front door. It became a sort of “thing” between you. Your window was always unlocked, an invitation for him to come inside whenever he wanted. At 2 am one Saturday morning, you woke up from your sleep because of the sounds from your window opening. Sleepily, you lifted up your head to be met with Ni-ki. The moonlight shining on him with his hair all ruffled made you feel giddy inside.

“Did I wake you up?” he asked. With a slight roll of your eyes,

“No, you weren’t being loud at all.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“So you decided to make me not sleep?”

“It’s cold in my room.”

“It’s cold in my room too?”

“Let’s sleep together.”

It could’ve been that you were too tired to tell Ni-ki to get out.

Or it was because you were too cold and Ni-ki was shivering.

Whatever it is that it was, you moved to the other side of your bed, making space for him. He settled in, slight heat rushing to his cheeks as his head laid on one of your pillows. While the two of you have hugged and held hands, this was something different and both of your hearts were pounding in your ears. You fell asleep first, Ni-ki looking at you, breath slightly caught in his throat. Once again, there was the same feeling from when he first met you. Yet still, he didn’t know what it was nor the proper words to label it. Sharing the same bed because a source of comfort between you as Ni-ki realized that the feelings he couldn’t express in words, he could express through the sparks.

Towards the beginning of middle school, you started going to Ni-ki’s dance studio almost every day. You would watch him perform dances before any of his covers were uploaded online, your eyes were the first to witness Nishimura Riki in his element. He couldn’t deny how he loved the way your eyes lit up whenever he performed or how you’d clap and shout his name in support.

“Y/n-ah,” you heard as he sat next to you, taking a swig of water.

“Huh?” You looked at him, noting how his hair stuck to his forehead. Knowing that he didn’t like that feeling, you brought your hand up to his hair, fixing it for him.

Maybe it was because he was out of breath and his heart was already racing.

Maybe it was because your face was so close to his that the only thing he was able to focus on was you.

Maybe it was because your legs were touching since he always liked sitting as close to you as possible.

Whatever it was, there was that feeling again. And still, he couldn’t label it.

“What is it?” you asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat,

“I’m gonna be an idol one day. When I become one, I want you to be in the front row of my concert.”

“You think we’re still gonna be besties when that happens?” you teased. He rolled his eyes,

“Obviously.”

Throughout middle school, Ni-ki unsurprisingly became popular with everyone. Most of the girls were captivated by how well he danced while the guys wanted to be him. He didn’t care, only sticking with you for the most part. You would eat lunch together at a hidden spot behind the back of the school that only you knew. In 7th grade,

“Ni-ki,” you said as you looked up at the sky, the blue color filling your view. It was nearing spring, the flowers were in bloom, and you found yourself wondering something.

“Yeah?” he replied, stealing one of your potstickers as if you didn’t save it for him.

“Jisoo-unnie told me she kissed Sean-oppa, and she said she didn’t like it. They’re gonna break up soon,” you said, referring to some kids in your class. The two were a “thing” together and while you knew what dating entailed, you’ve never experienced it yourself.

“And I care why?” You were nervous at what you were about to say but you weren’t going to back out now. Looking at him, slightly tilting your head,

“Do you wanna kiss me?” you asked. He choked on the potsticker, causing you to pat his back and give him water.

“Yah, is kissing me that bad?” you muttered to yourself.

“W-why?” he asked, unable to help himself from stuttering. With a shrug,

“I think I’d like it… if my first kiss was you.” You expected Ni-ki to tell you off. Or just flat-out leave. But instead, he leaned forward and as if it were instinct, your eyes fluttered shut. It lasted for a second, perhaps even less, but in that short time the sparks you felt whenever you were around Ni-ki intensified.

“There, we did it.” Your eyes widened as you looked at him, heat rushing to your cheeks despite the seemingly insignificant action. There it was again, that feeling that he just couldn’t name.

Ni-ki came into your room through the window at 3 in the morning to be met with the sound of your muffled sniffles and hated that he was the reason for it. He settled into bed with you,

“Get out you traitor,” you muttered. He sighed,

“I’m sorry, y/n-ah.”

“You’re really gonna leave tomorrow?”

“Technically, it’s later but-” interrupted by you throwing a pillow at him he let out a slight groan,

“Really?” he asked with a sigh.

“I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’m going to Korea, not dying.” You knew that he was doing it to fulfill his dreams of becoming an idol and you wanted him to. But last week, after seeing him with Lisa as his dance partner for the talent show, a fit of jealousy you’ve never known before settled within you. You didn’t tell him, how could you when you had no reason to be jealous? Instead, you smiled when his eyes met yours as you sat in the audience and clapped when he and Lisa got 1st place.

“Promise me we’ll video call? And that you won’t forget me.” He wiped your tears away with his sleeve,

“Promise me that you won’t go out with Sean?” he asked. Sean had asked you out after the talent show and you told him that you needed to think about it. Ni-ki was furious when he found out using the excuse that “Sean is a jerk” despite knowing damn well that he was jealous. But this wasn’t the time to be jealous because he was going to Korea. You brought up your hand, holding out a pinky. He did the same, both of your pinkies connected,

“I promise,” you said simultaneously.

While Ni-ki was in Korea and you were at home, you’d video chat and send text messages as often as you could. Over time, you started to realize that Ni-ki was starting to want one thing.

“I wanna go home, y/n,” he said one 4 am call.

“Ni-ki, you’ve sacrificed so much, you’re almost there. We believe in you.”

“I won’t be able to talk to you for a while.”

“Why not?”

“I’m going on a survival show called i-land. If I make it to the top 7, I’ll get to debut.”

“YAH, NISHIMURA RIKI WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME EARLIER?” you yelled, causing him to bring move his face away from his phone.

“It just never came up.”

“That’s great! Do your parents know?”

“You’re the first one I told.” That feeling that only Ni-ki seemed to give you whenever he did or said stuff like this made itself known. In the time that Ni-ki was gone, you realized that you missed him more than you should despite being best friends. It wasn’t until you had a talk with his sister that you realized, you had a crush on him.

“I miss you, Ni-ki. And I’ll be rooting for you the whole time.”

As cheers of joy filled your ears, the sound of your heart pounding was the only thing you could hear while what was on the tv screen registered in your head.

Ni-ki. Got. Fourth. Place.

Which meant that he was debuting.

Which meant that he was going to become an idol.

Which meant that his dreams were coming true.

You couldn’t stop the immense pride you felt and the shouts of joy that escaped you. Your best friend was debuting and you had the right to be proud of him.

During enhypen’s first concert, Ni-ki knew that he should’ve been happy. This was him living out his dreams, the same dreams that he spent countless hours up till the am talking to you about. Yet, unlike all those years ago, you weren’t here at his 1st concert. You couldn’t just hop on a plane to Korea due to current restrictions and your own schoolwork.

“What’s wrong?” Jay asked as he placed his hand on the maknae’s shoulder. Ni-ki looked at Jay,

“Y/n’s not here.” Though you weren’t aware of it, the other members knew you. Well, of you since Ni-ki talked about you often.

“Why don’t you call her?” Jay offered as a solution hoping to help in some way.

“Yeah, I will,” Ni-ki said.

Your phone rang and upon seeing the contact name, you answered it.

“You’re supposed to be performing, why haven’t you started yet?” you asked.

“How’d you know?” you smiled then changed the camera view to show your laptop,

“I’m streaming, dummy.”

“Illegally?” he asked.

“No comment.”

“Yah, you’ll get in trouble!”

“Good thing you’re on my side, yeah?”

“I wish you were here.”

“I am, just look at the camera and pretend it’s me.”

“It’s not the same.”

“I know, I miss you too,” you said with a sigh. Ni-ki heard his name being called,

“I gotta go.”

“Good luck and have fun!” you managed to say before the call ended.

At your high school graduation, you walked around looking for your family frantically texting Ni-ki’s sister asking where she was. It wasn’t until you crashed into what felt like a wall that you looked up, your hand rubbing your forehead. As your eyes met the man in front of you,

“Ni-ki?” He smiled, that feeling that he still couldn’t pinpoint after all these years infecting him once again.

“That’s all you have to say?” your arms wrapped around the now much taller boy instantly, practically jumping onto him which caused him to have to carry you like a baby koala.

“It’s been a year since we’ve last seen each other in person!” you muttered, your face resting in the crook of his neck, missing his scent.

“I literally FaceTimed you last night, you’re being so extra.”

“As if you’re not?” you countered.

“Only for you,” he said with a light chuckle.

“Wait, I’m heading to Korea in a few days, why are you here?”

“I couldn’t miss your graduation. I’m only here for a few hours before I have to head back.” He set you down though his arms stayed lingering on your waist.

“You spent money on a ticket just to be here for a few hours then to head back tonight?” your heart warmed at Ni-ki’s actions and you couldn’t hold back your smile.

“I know, I’m extra.” Just then,

“Babe!” you heard. You turned your head to be met with Sean, having forgotten him with Ni-ki here. You told Ni-ki of your current 2 month relationship and he was all for it, wanting you to be happy. At least, you thought so. Well, he did want you to be happy. He just preferred it if you were happier with him.

You landed in Korea a few days after graduation. Timing seemed to work out for you and Ni-ki since enhypen’s dorm was getting renovated, he needed a place to move to. Despite being offered to share a temporary apartment with Sunoo, he opted to get one with you instead. You were thankful for it, happy to be back with Ni-ki, and excited for the 2 of you to hangout like you used to. One particular night, Ni-ki’s practice was running late and you were having a bad day.

“What?” you answered annoyed at Sean’s call. Lately, you were starting to have a strong dislike towards him with how much of a jerk he was like whenever Ni-ki was around.

“Is Ni-ki there?” Sean asked, annoyed.

“Why does that matter?” You didn’t hear the door opening or Ni-ki coming inside.

“Because he’s stuck onto you like a leech.” Ni-ki froze at those words, unsure what to do. Sean wasn’t exactly wrong but you were best friends so it was natural for you to be close, right?

“What the hell do you know?”

“He’s been gone for so long and the first chance you get, you move to where he is. Does that make sense to you? Part of an idol group and can’t even-”

“Like hell, I’m gonna let you say stuff like that about Ni-ki.”

“I can’t even say my opinion?”

“Not when it’s wrong.” Sean scoffed,

“I’m your boyfriend.” The next 2 words that came out of your mouth came as a shock to you, Sean, and Ni-ki.

“Not anymore.” Ending the call and tossing your phone on the bed, you laid in bed looking up at the ceiling. Surprisingly, you didn’t cry. Ni-ki came into your room and laid on the bed with you,

“I heard,” he said.

“You were right all those years ago, Sean is a jerk.”

“What are you gonna do now?”

“What should I do now?”

“Go out with me.”

“On a date?”

“Mhm.”

“Why?”

“Because I asked you out.”

“You’re serious?”

“Mhm.” You weren’t quite sure how to respond since deep down you knew that your crush on Ni-ki never truly faded away. Things were different now and you were no longer kids in grade school who were unaware of what it meant for things like dating to happen.

“This could hurt us.”

“It could.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

“Where would we go?”

“Wherever you want.”

“This isn’t how I’ve imagined you asking me out.”

“So, you’ve imagined me asking you out?”

“Shut up, you’re an idol there’s a ton of imagines about you.”

“The only imagines I care about are yours.”

“Fine, I’ll go out with you.”

It was a day just like any other day when Ni-ki realized what exactly the feeling was that made itself known from the first time he saw you up until now. You just reached 10 months of dating, still living together in Korea. You were on the couch trying to do some work when Ni-ki showed up all of a sudden, clearly wanting some cuddles and physical affections. So you put on a movie, grabbed some blankets, and settled in. You were mindlessly running your hand through his hair,

“It’s been so long since I’ve felt like I’m home,” Ni-ki whispered as he looked up at you. His hair was soft, like cotton candy that melted in your mouth at an amusement park.

“With all the cameras surrounding you and being in Korea without your parents so young, it’s only natural for you to be homesick.” He realized that the feeling that appeared from time to time was something that he could now name. Home.

“I’m home with you, y/n,” he whispered.

❦ written by riri | blog masterlist

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

By My Side (Part 8)

Summary: Jensen and the reader still feel as though something is wrong even after securing the team of people hired to come after them. But the pair will come to discover the threat has always been someone they never considered and some of their most important assumptions have been wrong the whole time...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Word Count: 4,400ish

Warnings: language, angst, lying

A/N: Enjoy! ;)

_________

“Something seem odd about this whole thing or is it just me,” mumbled Jensen to you about an hour later back home, the team that was ready to come to your house that night in custody after they were seen at the same location the guy the night before came from.

“I think this guy knows we’d find the team. He’s still ahead of us,” you said.

“What’s the least rational thing we could do right now?” he asked.

“Go to the baby shower.”

“Then let’s go to the baby shower.”

“It’s already over.”

“Is there any Hollywood party or something tonight?”

“There’s a client manager party downtown,” you said. He smiled and you shook your head. “That’s way too dangerous.”

“Which is why he thinks we’d never go. He’s anticipating our rational moves so let’s be irrational,” said Jensen. “Let’s go out to a big party we couldn’t ever hope to control.”

“You think he’ll show up?” you asked.

“Tweet that you’re getting ready to head to the party right now. He’s gonna think you believe you’re in the clear and I got a feeling he’ll move in on his own,” said Jensen.

“You’ll need a tux,” you said.

“This is the part you’re not gonna like. I think you gotta go in alone,” he said. You swallowed but nodded. “You got this. Just don’t wear heels...and bring that knife I gave you.”

“What are you planning?” you asked.

“When you eliminate suspects, the impossible has to be the truth,” he said.

“I don’t get it.”

“I think I know who wants you, Y/N.”

“Who?” you asked. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath as the doorbell rang. Charlie answered the door, your parents and step-brothers walking in all looking very confused.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” said Jensen to your mom, cutting them off when they all started to speak at once. “Why don’t you explain what exactly happened to your first husband, Brian?”

“I don’t understand,” she said. She looked at you and you cocked your head. “Brian died years ago.”

“Yes, he did,” said Jensen, giving Chuck a harsh look. “Surprised you came here.”

“Excuse me?” he scoffed.

“Y/N’s life wasn’t in any danger until your wife started talking about moving out here, isn’t that right,” said Jensen. “I wonder why that is.”

“What the hell are you accusing me of? Trying to kill my daughter?”

“Oh, a lot worse than that,” said Jensen. “Guys.”

Jared and Benny were pushing the rest of your family away from Chuck quickly, Chuck’s face dark and his eyes nearly black looking.

“Jensen,” you said. “Chuck wouldn’t…” you trailed off, a foggy memory itching at the back of your skull. “You put the pool cover over me once when I was swimming, right when you and mom started dating.”

“That was an accident.”

“I don’t think so,” you said, grabbing your mom’s hand and pulling her over to you.

“You used to hit us,” said Michael. You and your mom’s head’s whipped in his direction, Michael frowning. “When we were kids. You called it tough love but everything I know now as a lawyer, everything Nick knows from school psychology…”

He and Nick took a few steps away from their father, Chuck rolling his eyes.

“Guys! That was mom and I’s decision and yeah I screwed up and regret ever doing it but that’s all it was. Y/N, the pool was an accident and I was the one that pulled you out. You-”

“To make you look like a hero,” you said. “Was that your plan this time? Kidnap me, miraculously get in contact with the kidnapper and save me?”

“No! I would never hurt you, kiddo, you know-”

“But you’d hurt your sons,” you said. You looked over to Nick, swallowing to yourself. He nodded and you took a deep breath. “Nick was suicidal and you used to make jokes about that stuff. Did you know?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? No!” said Chuck, Michael’s face white as he looked at his brother.

“Nicky?” he said quietly.

“I’m better now. It was a long time ago,” said Nick.

“Boys, come here,” said your mom, the both of them getting away from their father, a few other members of Jensen’s old unit putting themselves between your family and Chuck. She gave Nick a hug and Michael too, shooting Chuck a dirty look. “I asked you about Nick years ago. You said you’d talked to him and he was okay. It was girl problems you said and you didn’t want me bringing it up to him.”

“He never did that,” said Nick. Chuck threw up his hands and spun around, placing his hands on his hips.

“Did you kill mom?” asked Michael. “Did you?”

Chuck turned back, face red and you laughed, his gaze turning on you.

“She died in a car accident for fucks sakes! Nick almost died too! I would never hurt her.”

“You’re a good actor but not that good,” you said. “He’s lying about something.”

“This bodyguard, this fucked up guy-” said Chuck, shaking his head. “He’s insane and he’s feeding into all of this. None of it is true. None of it. I should have talked to Nick instead of brushing it under the rug but-”

“Call my friend fucked up again and see what happens,” said Jared, his eyes narrowing.

“What is happening! This is all insane!” said Chuck.

“How did you meet Chuck?” asked Jensen to your mom. “He meet you on a bad day? Do something very gentlemanly but it reminded you of Brian?”

“How do you know that,” she asked quietly. Jensen nodded and took a deep breath. She shook her head and he sighed. “He...Brian saved a woman from a mugging.”

“A mugging that was staged,” said Jensen. “Chuck wanted you. He wanted your attention. His wife was in the way. Your husband. The kids would have been too much so he left them alone, left the three of them to raise themselves. Now that you might be close to Y/N again, the idea of sharing you like any other sane person on the planet got to be a bit too much, didn’t it Chuck?”

“I don’t know where you came up with this crazy idea to turn my family against me, kid,” said Chuck. “None of that is true. It’s all a crazy theory in his head! I’m not perfect, I never said I was. But I love my family. I loved my wife. He’s the one with the insane theories. He’s the one that’s nuts. The guy was freaking tortured for a month, you think he’s gonna be all there after that?”

“How would you know that,” asked Jensen, keeping his head high as you stared at him and swallowed, thinking of the small scar on his back. “No one aside from my old team members and military personnel would know that. Wouldn’t even pop up on a background check. Y/N doesn’t even know that. But somehow her family man step-father does. I think we’d all be curious to know how it is you know so much about me, Chuck. Big fan? Or was I supposed to get the treatment some other family members got, hm?”

“What are you talking about? You told me!” said Chuck.

“I never-”

“You called me the other night and we got talking and you told me a bit about your background and-” said Chuck, Jensen turning around. “You’re saying that wasn’t you cause it sounded a hell of a lot-”

“No, Chuck, it wasn’t him,” you said. “What is going on, Jensen?”

“The impossible,” said Jensen, his head turning in every direction. “I was right about it being your dad. I was wrong about what one though.”

Quiet footsteps came from down the hall, a tall figure popping out into view.

“Everybody went to such a fuss for me it seems,” he said.

“Brian?” asked your mom, eyes wide.

“Dad?” you said. He smiled and you returned it, walking over to him, Chuck grabbing you quickly before Jensen could and shoving you back at him.

“Thanks,” said Jensen, Chuck still scowling.

“Oh, you’re on my shit list for a long time after tonight,” said Chuck.

“Understood,” said Jensen. You didn’t understand and tried to move away but Jensen pinned you back against his chest.

“Jensen, it’s my dad. I want-”

“S’okay, buttercup. I think your boyfriend is a little confused is all. Nothing nefarious is going on at all,” he said.

“But...the team and the guy that broke in…” you said.

“Actors hired by your bodyguard to perpetuate this fantasy he has of escalating the supposed danger in your life.”

“But I shot a guy last night,” you said.

“With a rubber bullet. He was fine. Have you ever been in any real danger? Or just think you were?” he asked.

“Where have you been?” asked your mom as you moved away from Jensen.

“Witness protection. Mugging I got involved in had to do with some drug syndicate. Very, messy, brutal, scary men that would do horrible things to you girls if they knew I had a family. I had to die and go live a new life,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’m happy you found Chuck and the boys. You guys deserved to be happy.”

You looked back at Jensen and he shook his head.

“I’m not wrong. It’s…” trailed off Jensen. “Somebody’s lying but it’s not me.”

“You were wrong about Chuck just now. You accused him and made us all think...and now you’re going after my dad just like that.”

“I knew it had to be your father. I assumed it was the one I thought was alive. It’s got to be Brian then. It has to be.”

“You’ve been wrong a lot,” said Chuck. “It’s entirely possible your boyfriend wanted to be the hero, Y/N, not me. Save a rising Hollywood star? I’m sure that looks good on a resume.”

“Y/N,” said Jensen as everyone cleared away from him. You shrugged when he tried to touch your arm, inching back. “Y/N, I told you this guy is smart. Smarter than me. This was his goal all along, to make you not trust me and get you alone.”

“Charlie, can you please look up and see if my father was in witness protection,” you asked. She hummed and the house was quiet for a few minutes until she walked back over with her computer. “Yes?”

“He got out just recently. He’s been job searching. Your manager appears to have just hired him this week for lawn maintenance. He was supposed to start his first shift tomorrow morning which explains how he got inside,” she said quietly.

“I was going to surprise you,” said your dad. “I actually am a heck of a landscaper now.”

“You were a software engineer,” said your mom.

“I didn’t get to choose my job exactly,” he chuckled softly.

“Y/N, just because he was in witness protection-”

“Jensen, please be quiet,” you said. He snapped his jaw shut but you saw his eyes pleading for you to believe him. “Jared, help Jensen pack his things. I no longer require his services. Leave now Jensen and I won’t press charges for this charade.”

“Y/N, I swear,” said Jensen, quickly glancing at his former teammates. “Guys, you know I wouldn’t-”

“You don’t make mistakes like that,” said Ash quietly. “I’ve never seen you make a mistake that big.”

“Unless you did it on purpose,” said Benny. “For what? I don’t know. Impress the girl? I don’t know what’s going through your head, brother.”

“Jared…” said Jensen but Jared kept his head down.

“Pack up your stuff Jensen. Don’t make us do it for you.”

Jensen dropped his head but headed up to his room. You excused yourself outside for some air and jogged around to the side of the house, throwing a few pebbles at the window. It opened after a minute and Jensen poked his head outside.

“I believe you!” you said as loudly as you dared. His face instantly relaxed and he dropped his head down. “Sorry, I had to make it seem like I didn’t. I don’t buy my dad coming back magically just like that.”

“God, you don’t know how happy I am to hear that,” he said just as you saw Jared round the corner. You stared at him and he looked up, a small smile breaking onto his face. “You were acting too?”

“Of course. We all were. Brian’s shady as fuck, especially with somehow already being in the house? Let’s let him keep thinking he has the upper hand and then we get him when the timing is right,” said Jared.

“Jens,” you said, as he nodded. “I don’t care if you got kidnapped and tortured or anything you know. You’re still the strongest guy in the world to me.”

He smiled and you heard Jared groan beside you.

“Get a room you two,” he said.

“Jared, you watch her ass for me,” said Jensen.

“I will. Stick close by. We’re gonna need you when Brian shows his true colors.”

“Do you think he’ll hurt me?” you asked.

“No,” said Jensen. “I think he wants the time he lost with you back but he’s different now. Either way, I want to find out how someone in witness protection got my personnel file.”

“We’ll find out. Maybe think of ways to apologize to Chuck while you’re at it. We’re in for an awkward thanksgiving from the sounds of it,” you said.

“Yeah, sorry about the whole...accusing your step dad of murder thing. He didn’t make the best case for himself,” he said.

“I’m okay with it. He’ll forgive you. He wasn’t the world’s best dad anyways. Still better than Brian though it seems.”

“Sorry you got all the shitty luck,” said Jensen.

“It’s alright. Be safe, Jay,” you said.

“You too guys. I’ll be close by. Hopefully I won’t be gone for long.”

The Next Morning

“Hey,” you said, Jared giving you a nod from the kitchen island. “Where’s my dad?”

“Having coffee out back. I sent the team to my house to crash and get some work done,” he said with a look. “It’s just your family here apart from me.”

“I need to be alone with him Jared if he’s going to make a move,” you said.

“I’d much rather we let the team research and find out how he got Jensen’s file and paid for those people to come and take you first. We get evidence, that’s all we need and it avoids you being kidnapped.”

“Or we isolate me and I get close to him and make him think I hate the rest of them and he won’t drag me off to the middle of nowhere. It’d just be me and him here,” you said.

“Go slow with it,” he said. “For all our sakes.”

“I understand,” you said. Jared finished off his cup of coffee and stood up. “Did you ever doubt Jensen?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve had a gut feeling about him since I met him. A good one.”

“Gen and I talk about you two. You look at each other...even when you weren’t getting along, we knew. You’re both as much as suckers as we were at the stage in the game,” he said.

“I’m happy you got him out of whatever bad place he was in,” you said.

“I got him physically out. The mental scars, those don’t go away. But he seems to forget about them a lot more since he’s hung around with you,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, he was doing okay and relatively happy. But last night...that meant the world to him that you still have faith in him.”

“I never stopped,” you said.

“Y/N, the reason he got in that shitty position in the first place is because he’s a good person that wouldn’t be swayed to do the wrong thing. He knew when he was going against his unit he was setting himself up for a world of pain. He respects good people being good more than you can realize.”

“Keep an eye on him for me until this done?”

“Always do,” he said. “Good luck out there.”

“Thanks.”

You headed outside and found your dad sitting at the patio table, a cup of half drunk coffee set on the glass top.

“Morning,” you said, taking a seat beside him. He smiled and made some more space for you.

“Morning. Sleep okay?” he asked.

“Not really. Last night was intense,” you said. He lowered his head and played with the mug for a moment. “Dad.”

“If I told you a secret, would you keep it from your boyfriend?” he asked. You swallowed and he smirked. “It’s not going to take too long for your friends to find out my witness protection story is bullshit.”

“What’s the real story,” you said, sliding your pocket knife out of your pocket.

“Good. You carry a weapon on you,” he said, taking another sip of coffee. “This is good shit.”

“It’s imported. What’s the real story dad. Who wants to hurt me?” you asked.

“Your original manager did that whole event for a publicity stunt. It’s a separate event from what’s happening now. You were unfortunate, or fortunate depending on how you look at it, to have hired Jensen as your bodyguard. The kid needs you.”

“He’s the target, isn’t he, not me.”

“Yes. He’s always been the target. Why do you think they tried to knock you out and secure him? He’s the one they want.”

“How do you know that?”

“I read the police file.”

“How-”

“Y/N, I was never a software engineer. Your mother and you thought I was. You guys thought I was regular Brian. Regular little league coach, regular brags about his burgers on the grill, above average nerdy Brian. Don’t get me wrong. I’m all those things but there was a part of my life you never knew about.”

“Why arere you here?” you asked quietly.

“I had a different job but after the mugging, that’s all it was, I was injured and it got to the point of I could stop my job completely or I could put my wife and child through an inexcusable amount of pain and do something to help people, something no one ever knows about.”

“Daddy, what’s your job?”

“I protect people like Jensen. The good guys. The ones that stop crimes and do what’s right. I’ve been tailing him the past six months. Someone from his past was going to come back which is how he got on my radar and sadly they are very much after him. My job is to stop those people before my protectee even knows I exist. This is a unique situation with you being here though so we changed game plans and I exposed myself. I had to isolate Jensen. He’ll be targeted and my team will be waiting to catch this guy.”

“How do I believe you?” you asked.

“Kiddo, it’s okay if you don’t believe me. I’ve gotten used to the fact that I lost you a long time ago. I know I fucked things up with mom and the boys and Chuck and there was a lot of manipulation on my end too to get Jensen to make the assumptions he did last night. They were good assumptions, Y/N and I led him down that path without him realizing. I’m sorry for that. But my job is to make sure he stays safe and that’s all I can do.”

“I gave him your hoodie,” you said, putting the knife away and crossing your arms. “It was supposed to be your birthday present.”

“I saw it in your closet when I was doing laundry that day the mugging happened. Looks better on him,” he said.

“What, you a spy or some shit,” you said.

“I was a simple...analyst if we want to call it that,” he said. “Desk job. Completely safe. I didn’t start running around in dark corners until later. The mugging was just a mugging. I wanted to help that woman and I nearly died for it. On paper I had to. Life wasn’t supposed to go this way but it’s how it went. I choose that over you and mom and I’m sorry.”

“What makes Jensen so special?”

“He stopped a lot of people from getting killed because he wouldn’t accept an enormously large and tempting payout. He turned in his entire team. His team didn’t like that and contacted a group of bad people, told them he was the one that fucked up their plans before they all got arrested. He got jumped coming back from dinner out one night. One of those team members recently got parole for providing very important information on another case. Jensen was then at risk at that point. He got this other guy thrown in a shithole and it was Jensen’s presumption that he’d never be released and sadly that’s not the case. My group watches those at risk people and we intervene if revenge seems likely.”

“You make it really hard to be pissed off at you for everything when you’re like, trying to save my boyfriend,” you said.

“I was at your graduation,” he said. You turned your head and he smiled. “And your first day on set of your show. I might have veered Chuck into mom’s life after a chat at a bar. I thought he’d be good to her.”

“Why didn’t you just come out of the shadows?” you asked.

“Because the world unfortunately needs people to do what I do. It’s not glamorous. No one knows we exist. But it’s important. It’s important that people that do the right thing have the opportunity to live good lives.”

“Once again, how do I trust that you’re telling the truth?” you asked.

“You don’t have to trust me. It’s okay. I’m sure this individual will make a move on Jensen this morning. When Jensen walks back in this house, you’ll know I was telling the truth.”

“If you’re telling the truth, then what? Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m getting kind of old to be running around,” he smiled. “I’m looking at retirement. Maybe a little cabin up near Seattle. I wouldn’t mind that.”

“LA’s big,” you heard behind you. “I’m sure we could find room for you here.”

You turned in your seat and saw Jensen standing there, a tired smile on his face.

“You could have let me in on the secret, Brian,” said Jensen as he gave you a hug and quick kiss. “Instead of making me look like a jackass last night.”

“Had to get you alone. Sorry about that,” he said. Jensen took a seat beside you, leaning forward and staring at him. “Hall’s dealt with I assume.”

“He was the only one left,” said Jensen. “How did you ever even know about me?”

“Don’t ask questions you know I can’t answer,” he said. “Sorry for using you as bait.”

“Better me than her,” said Jensen.

“I better get out of here,” he said, getting to his feet. You hopped up, your dad stopping in his tracks. “What?”

“You gotta explain to everybody what happened. Everybody,” you said.

“Alright. It’s probably best if I leave after that though,” he said. “I got involved too much as is.”

“If you’re retiring, why can’t you stay?” asked Jensen. “I eavesdropped.”

“I’m not cruel,” he said. “My wife and daughter moved on.”

“You’ve missed the past twenty years of my life. Since I was eight years old you were gone. I don’t want you to go,” you said.

“I can do so much, Y/N. But I can’t watch your mom love another man up close and personal like that all the time. I wouldn’t do it to them.”

“I think after everything, she gets what she wants, Brian,” said Jensen. “Your family is much more resilient than you give them credit for.”

“I have a few loose ends to tie up but I’ll be around more,” he said. He looked inside through the back door and nodded. “People are waking up. I think if we’re gonna do this, might as well do it now.”

“Dad,” you said as he walked inside. “I knew you were lying last night but I didn’t think you were a bad guy if that makes sense.”

“Really?” he asked.

“She takes after her brave and loyal father,” said Jensen, his arms wrapping you. “Sue her.”

“Alright, alright. You’re making coffee kid. I’m gonna need more to get through this.”

______

A/N: Read the Final part here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #au #bodyguard!AU #bodyguard!jensen #bodyguard!jensen x reader #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction

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liloelsagranger · 3 years

Text

Night shift - finally a new Rocketshipping-fanfiction

My dear friends,

it’s been a while since I last posted an entry. Let me tell you why and what, besides Covid-19, made me pause from publishing fanfictions over the last couple of months. Of course, Switzerland was very affected by the pandemic and still is today. We had numerous lock-downs or as Swiss people call it “slow downs”. My mother got very sick last year, I almost lost her. The doctors said she would only live two or three more days, but my mom is a fighter. She had to stay at the hospital for months, she endured countless medical examinations, had to take meds and slowly learned to live again. I’m so proud of my mother that she was strong and determined to get better. When she turned back home, I started to take care of her and I hate to leave her on her own, even if we’re talking about half an hour or less. Right now, she’s doing quite good, actually, we’re on vacation and she makes a great effort to participate in life in Italy. She’s my role-model! She will never be the same as before, but she won’t give up, she wakes up every morning to make progress. I prayed for her and her well-being, I prayed every single night she might get another chance and now we’re here at the beach and dining in fancy restaurants. It’s been a horrible year for everyone, a year full of sorrow, tears and desperation, a year where I was constantly afraid, the hospital would call me with some bad news, but she did it! She survived and she fights for her life! So proud! Good news is: I passed my doctoral exams and I’m officially allowed to call myself Dr. phil. des. Melanie C. but that won’t ever stop me from loving Team Rocket so here it is - a brand new Rocketshipping-fanfiction for you guys. LOVE YOU! Night shift

Chapter 1:

It was past ten o’clock when that miserable looking guy entered the diner. He inconspicuously sat down in the farthest corner of the café and immediately hid his face behind the menu card. Nevertheless, Jessie the waitress could make out the pathetic expression on his face, how he was cowering like a whipped dog. She had seen quite a bit in this diner. Drunks, thugs, addicts and other needy people who asked for a sympathetic ear, compassion and understanding, but that guy was different. He suffered terribly, but did not dare to communicate, instead he hid from the world so as not to attract attention and quietly endure his fate. Jessie had to do something about it. Of course, she didn’t want to play the Good Samaritan. She knew the tricks of the men who entered this diner. Most of the time, they told the waitress tall tales, hoping to be comforted, whatever they meant by that. But this young man did not make a shady impressionHe was well dressed, looked well-groomed, and Jessie was especially struck by his bright emerald green eyes, the only thing in his face that had not yet been veiled by grief and sorrow. She decided to do something about his displeasure.

“Did you have a rough day?” she asked while disinfecting the table.

He looked briefly into her eyes and nodded. “That’s one way to put it,” he answered, the gaze immediately lowered again.

This would be a taciturn conversation, but Jessie didn’t give up easily, she was a natural at making even rocks talk.

“Listen! No matter what happened, I’ve seen or heard some things. If I can help you in any way, my name is Jessie and I’m in charge of this table today. Let me just get the gum out from under your seat and get you a cold drink. What would you like?” She pulled a spatula from her apron and rubbed away the remains of the spoiled brats that marred her diner.

‘Wow,’ the young man thought to himself. ‘A strong, self-confident woman who lends a hand herself and who’s not above cleaning up dirt.’ Their eyes met briefly, and he forced a wry smile.

“You know, kid. You can’t rely on anyone. If you want to get everything done, do it yourself and don’t trust anyone. This world doesn’t give you anything for granted!” She briefly wiped the back of his chair before disappearing behind the counter and pouring the young man an ice-cold Coke.

“I have rarely seen you so concerned about a customer. Normally you show yourself aloof and only take the order, so as not to get involved in embarrassing conversations. Must be a really great pike, this pathetic creature in the far corner. Could it be that you’ve got a tiny crush on this guy?” For Eddy, teasing his best friend was the greatest pleasure. He didn’t know her like that. Jessie usually resisted any kind of small talk. This was due to her dark past, when she had repeatedly fallen for advances from men who were never looking for a steady relationship, but for a quick fix. Eddy had witnessed this bad time of his friend, how her heart was broken, how she was badly played with, and how she was simply dropped like a hot potato. Jack was the worst example of them all. While Jessie was already hearing the wedding bells ringing, he was making love to the women of the Strip and deceiving Jessie night after night with other broads. Jessie was devastated when she found out Jack was cheating on her. She was furious, not even at her lying boyfriend, but at herself for having been so stupid as to trust a man.

Jessie gave Eddy a light pat on the head. “Don’t be silly! That time is over. I can take care of myself, I don’t need male support for that. I’m a big girl, I make my own dough, and I keep my head above water pretty well. No, not a chance, I’ve sworn off flirting.” Nevertheless, she caught herself as her gaze wandered to the young man in the corner. “Oh yes, this time is definitely over,” Eddy smirked.

“Jessie, could you bring us a side of fries, please?” Misty’s order echoed throughout the hall. The twenty-year old waved her hands. She was used to speaking loudly, almost shouting, to attract guests to her daily water Pokémon show. Sometimes she walked up and down the streets of the Strip all day in the blazing hot sun, trying to win people for her underwater attraction. As an excellent student, she could have taught at any college, but she had decided early on to get into show business and make her living doing what she really loved, joined by Dewgong and Starmie. Her parents had not agreed with this decision at all, it was wasted talent, they had claimed, and had summarily turned Misty out the door. Since then, she had been struggling through life on her own, but could always count on Jess, the diner and her two best friends, Ash and Brock, young people who were also not favoured by fate.

“Temper your voice, twerp!” Jessie couldn’t help but grin. She spread the ketchup bottles around the table, hoping Ash wouldn’t spill on himself and the diner again. His constant companion Pikachu immediately hopped on his shoulder, grabbed a fry and popped it in his mouth. Ash and his Pokémon were carnies. He had trained his friend well and attracted many spectators with his performance. Most of them felt sorry for the guy and tipped generously. That’s why Ash was able to invite his friends to the diner every night, a place that gave them hope where they could experience security. They were convinced that nothing would ever disturb this idyll and that fate, for better or worse, had taken its course.

“Who’s that guy over there?” Brock wanted to know. He had barely sold chocolate and roses tonight. The others held back, but they were certain that their friend was just too pushy with women and that’s why he only collected rejections instead of green bills.

“I’ve never seen him here before. Must be from another area. I can’t tell you for the life of me why he’s wearing a suit at theses temperatures, he looks pretty pathetic to me anyways,” Jessie replied.

“Maybe his car has stalled,” Ash suggested, “and now he was forced to wander through the desert until the tasty aromas from your diner brought him back from his delirium.”

“Or,” Brock interfered, “he had to flee his own wedding because his wife is a real pain in the ass, unlike our sweet Misty,” Brock oohed at his friend. “Forget it, Brock! You and me, this will never happen!” She gave him a gentle poke.

“Enough now with your naïve speculations! Just let him enjoy his drink. We’re closing soon, so get going,” Jessie dismissed their absurd ideas with a wave of her hand, but at this point no one knew how right Brock was.

Dark thoughts hunted the young man. He knew what he would face at home if he was late. Beatings, torture, rebuke, harassment, were just a few words to describe his failed relationship. Unconsciously, he stroked his scarred arms.

“Can I get you something to eat?” Jessie pulled him out of the maelstrom of bad thoughts, of course she had noticed the wounds, but maybe he had gotten those injuries at work. The young man rummaged some coins out of his pants and let them jingle on the table. “Is that enough for a cheese sandwich?” Jessie hated small change, but she would make an exception for him. A friendly smile, a quick nod, and she passed on the order.

“Something’s wrong with this guy,” she whispered to Eddy. “He’s scarred, bruised and pays with penny coins. Possibly a vagrant.” Eddy couldn’t help but grin. “That guy’s been keeping you busy all night, Jess. What’s the matter with you? Are you getting weak?”

The young man could not overhear the conversation between the waiters, but he was sure they were talking about him. He sure made a rather frightening impression, but that was a private matter and not something you shared with a waitress in a diner.

His gaze drifted to the daily paper, which had two faces emblazoned on it: Butch and Cassidy. He had never heard of this odd couple, but according to the news, theses two were causing quite a stir and were terrifying the Strip.

“Oh, so you’ve already spotted them, those two knuckleheads! They keep the Strip in suspense, and heads roll when the taxes don’t add up,” Jessie served him the cheese sandwich and gave him a slight smile.

“Can I get you anything else?” He thanked her and took a hearty bite of his dinner.

The last half hour flew by and the remaining guests left the diner to spend the night on the Strip, as very few had a roof over their heads. Jessie set about cleaning up and Eddy checked the register.

The young man stood up and made his way towards the door. But before he left the diner, he glanced back at Jessie for a moment. A sigh escaped him. What if…?

Jessie returned his gaze and watched him go until the young man disappeared. She walked right up to his table and found a little note on the receipt.

“Thanks for treating me like a human being, James.”

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joontier · 3 years

Text

Subliminal in Scrubs | V1; report ix

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: doctors! au; humor, romance

warnings: swearing

word count: 1.8k

g/n: ((unedited skfslkdf)) also,,, i will be releasing Parallel Palpitations very soon [which features this Jimin hehehehe stay tuned for that] PLUS, im very excited to release the report x AHHHHHH send me your thoughts pleaseee

[taglist]: @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle @btsmakesmehappy

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) | navi. | m.list

You open your new group chat first thing in the morning, wanting to check on Soomin and Jimin. Just yesterday, the two had informed you of their concerns separately, both worried over the same thing. Soomin’s mother wanted to hold a small congratulatory celebration for her daughter’s KMLE results, and her subsequent acceptance at Woocheon, so there was going to be a party exclusively for all tenants of the building at the restaurant just next to the cafe.

The two hadn’t worked out their budding acquaintance, as you had practically forced them to greet each other the last time you were at the cafe, so you thought this might be a great way to have them start over their tricky relationship.

As you’ve expected, both of them had even tried to convince you to come, in the hopes that a mutual friend could help diminish the awkward air around them. You’ve declined each of them politely, not wanting to intrude on their little get-together. Besides, (just like you hadn’t forgotten to mention to them), this was the perfect opportunity to get rid of this wall hindering their friendship (to which, both of them had also quite strongly disagreed upon).

A mere three hours after their outpour of sentiments, as you’re rewatching episodes of Dr. Romantic with Chohee, the pair drunkenly call you, requesting a video chat. You’re pretty sure not one of them is aware of what’s happening, especially with Jimin refilling his shot glass every thirty seconds; Soomin speaking gibberish, and Chohee literally teasing them through the screen of your laptop and yet none of them seem to mind a damn thing about it.

So, with hopes that each of them arrived home safely last night, you type in your text message.

‘What is this place, really?’ you mutter to yourself, slightly regretting your decision to take the subway instead of a cab. You only ride taxis for places you’re not familiar with (such is the case with today) but you didn’t want to spend twice as much solely for transportation so you took the train to the building.

Now you feel lost. You’ve just gone to the main entrance of the building, but there was scaffolding barring the entrance, and now you’re struggling to look for Entrance B with the singular tarpaulin saying “Please use Entrance B” and a faded arrow below pointing to the left. After a grueling ten minutes of asking people for directions and walking all over the place, you finally find Entrance B and hurry on your way inside.

There’s already a small crowd forming where the directions for the processing of your license is posted, and you can’t seemingly read the directions all the way down with people clearly taller than you blocking the way.

“What’s the matter? Can’t see the directions, smally?”

Your instant recognition of his voice makes you hang your head low. You figure there’s no way you can get rid of this guy anytime soon.

“Hello, Jungkook.”

Why is it that he’s always there wherever you are? He couldn’t be stalking me, could he?

Jungkook almost spits his water on the girl in front of him. Oh, so he heard your thoughts then. “Yeah, you wish, woman. I wouldn’t do that even if you had one million strapped to your neck.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Wasn’t asking for any conditions for you to do that, but thanks for letting me know your thoughts.”

“Awh, you mad, babe?” Shaking your head at him, you try to continue peering over everyone’s shoulder to check the post. “If it makes you feel any better, I would for two million though.”

You were just about to retaliate with a smart comment, but you see a girl walking towards Jungkook while twirling her hair with her newly manicured fingers. “Jungkook-oppa, you’re here!” she says, hooking her arm on his elbow.

Ah yes, it’s the same brat that kept defending Jungkook’s ass during the KMLE exam. “Why don’t you come with us? My mom works here,” her voice gets down to a whisper, but loud enough for you to hear. “If you come with us, you wouldn’t have to fall in line, then maybe we could have lunch together.

Jungkook removes her hand from his, “No thank you, I’ll just wait here.”

“With her?”

The audacity of this bitch.

“Yes, with her.” Jungkook says, not skipping a beat. “She’s...better company.” Oof, that’s gotta hurt.

You try not to show much of your currently soaring pride on your face, but you can’t help but clear your throat as a terrible disguise for a snort. The girl becomes silent after that, with most of her friends trying to control their facial expressions after Jungkook’s reply.

“Fine then, your loss,” she says with a flip of her hair, then makes her exit.

You're unsure what to do now as the girl has already left, and you’re also not sure if you’re entirely happy about being left with Jungkook now. “Why didn’t you go with her? Could’ve saved you a lot of time considering the people here.”

Jungkook clenches his jaw, as if in thought. “I don’t like cheating. I believe that there’s a different value in the reward that comes with something you worked hard for.”

You’re surprised. You really hadn’t expected this kind of quote, coming out of Jungkook out of all people, but you find yourself nodding as he speaks, quite impressed that you share the same principles.

As the crowd starts to disperse, you and Jungkook finally get your turns to take a look at the poster. “Is it often?”

“What is?”

You point a thumb backwards towards where the girl had gone to, “Having girls throw themselves at you all the time?”

“Oh that,” Jungkook chuckles, then gives you a lopsided smirk, “Yeah, that. Hadn’t realized being this hot was so tiring.” Squinting your eyes at him, it then again dawns on you that you shouldn’t even have asked him that sort of question at all.

“You know,” he says, nudging your shoulder with his, “I’m quite jealous of you really,” your brows crease together. This can’t be good. “At least you don’t experience all of that, cause you know…” he says, gesticulating his hands over his face.

He did not just insinuate that you were not...attractive at all. Huh. This bastard can wait for his license alone then.

“Goodbye, Jungkook.”

“Hang on! ________, wait! I was just messing with you,” Jungkook laughs, running after you.

The cashier is already scanning the last items on your grocery list by the time Jimin and Soomin had texted you that they were done with their licenses, and you three had agreed on meeting up by the mall’s concierge. It doesn’t take long before you all decide on having Italian for dinner, after seeing the restaurant nearest to where the concierge was.

“Wait, it took you guys only half an hour?” you exclaim, recalling how you had to endure at least more than an hour with Jungkook as you waited for your licenses to finish. Thankfully though, the latter had other errands to run so you two parted ways as soon as you got your IDs.

Jimin, always the gentleman, offers to get your group the utensils as well as a few condiments and spices you might need with your meals. “Soomin-ssi, do you know anybody else who’s going to Woocheon too?” he says, setting the silverware atop the napkins.

Soomin thanks Jimin for the thoughtful gesture, sending a small smile his way. You squeal inwardly, wanting to know what happened last night for them to interact like this. “Um, also, I’m not so sure about the others who will be attending Woocheon too...I only got a glimpse of the list, sorry.”

“Ah, no worries about that. So, how was the dinner party last night?”

The two glance at each other, seemingly communicating with their eyes. Oookay, what’s going on between these two? What exactly happened last night? If they wanted to be alone, they could’ve just said so…

“It was fun,” Jimin initiates, plastering what seems to be a painfully wide grin on his face. Soomin nods along with him as she adds more, “Honestly, I don’t remember much about last night, but I do recall Jimin calling me ‘sajangnim’ the whole night. And I told him to not call me that, but Jimin here is a stubborn man.”

“Yeah, you complained about that too last night,” you laugh, cutting your garlic bread into pieces. “Wait, what?” Jimin squints his eyes at you, “Were you there last night? How did you....”

“I’m guessing you both don’t remember calling me last night too, didn’t you?”

“We did?!” they say in unison, making your eyes go wide. “Did I do something stupid?” “Please tell me I didn’t say something I shouldn’t have?”

“Hmm, well, it was quite the conversation last night,” you tease them, wanting to see how far this can go, “plus Chohee was there too so I have another key witness.”

“What?” Jimin squeaks, lips pressing into a thin line, “what’s the key witness for?”

“That, my friend, is up to you to remember and figure out.” You give each of them a wink, before turning your attention back to your pasta.

Transferring all your groceries to one hand, you fish your keys from your purse, shaking it lightly to hear its jingle as you blindly course your fingers through your bag. As the elevator doors open, you see your neighbor down the end of the hall, trailing after a man.

Ayoung hears the elevator bell ding and turns to your direction. She excitedly points her thumb to her back, mouthing ‘new tenant’ to you. She keys in her code and lets the guy in first. The moment he’s inside, she leans by the doorframe and whispers how hot the guy actually was and how much of a lucky neighbor you were going to be.

You shake your head at her, leaving Ayoung to entertain her guest. Of course, not forgetting to pray that she manages to score you a hot man next door.

#jungkook x reader #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #btsghostie #jeon jungkook #bts aus #bts fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff

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comehomeducklings · 3 years

Text

Past [Part 2] (Obsession)

A/N: Some chapters will be named with either “Past,” “Present,” or “Future,” then their numbered part coming right after it. This is to confuse you less when flashbacks or anything happens. As you have probably noticed, it says “Past” for Part 2. This is going back near when Tom and her just met. Thank you for reading! <3

Tom Riddle's Moodboard

Main Character's Moodboard

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

1940 - 3rd year

“Potions is not that bad, I swear. You just have to be good at measuring.”

At the table, my friends and I are discussing our classes this year. Potions being one of my favorite topics. Devyn absolutely loathes that certain class. We have to drag her there to make sure she doesn’t skip. Poor girl tries her best to not mess up but the cauldron always ends up blowing up. I even watched her do every step once, never missing a beat. The potion still ended up failing, even though she did everything correctly. She gave up after a while, who wouldn’t. I help her do extra assignments for extra credit to keep her grade up. She also studies with me to make sure she can memorize everything and pass her tests. Amelia is pretty good at the class, she’s luckily paired with Devyn most of the time. Carrying the potion to success, with a little bit of my secret help. It’s not cheating, it’s using your resources.

I’m resources.

“Potions is not that bad,” Devyn mocks me. “If it weren’t for you two I would have gone insane in that stupid class.”

Amelia just laughs at her while eating her hash browns on the plate. She reaches her hand out to take some more eggs.

“You were able to do it before. Not the way you were supposed to, but it worked,” Amelia says.

“Exactly, just start doing it your way at this point. I don’t think Slughorn will care how it’s done, just how it comes out.”

Devyn nods her head and points at me with a fork. Her mouth full of food so she settles for that response. My plate doesn’t have much other than some bacon and fruit. I’m not usually a breakfast eater. I get my appetite at lunch and dinner time. It’s just too early for a bunch of food smells, the smells make me kind of nauseous. I’ll eat though, enough to hold me off till lunch.

The chatter in the lunchroom rises by the minute. Everyone refilling themselves before their busy day. All energy levels rising while everyone wakes up from their groggy morning mood. While my friends finish eating we continue to talk about our classes and share the schedules for this year. Most classes we had were the same except for our electives. I tried taking as many electives as possible. My family back home never really did magic. I actually came a year and a half late since my family wanted me to have a normal school experience. I learned to do everything without the use of magic, the only thing my mom taught me was the floo network, creatures, and plants. I would often accompany her to Diagon Alley when she shops. I got an Owl for my 10th birthday. A cat would have been amazing if I wasn’t allergic to it. My owl is a brown and white-furred barn owl. Don’t ask me why I named it Bartholomew. I was ten okay, give me a break. Speaking of the floo network, my mom had to chase me through it quite often because I kept teleporting everywhere. I once ran into the Ministry of Magic’s building and got lost. They had to take me home to my parents. Their faces told me everything I needed to know about the punishment waiting for me.

Halfway through the second year is when I came to Hogwarts, a second letter coming that year asking my parents to let me learn more there. So when they finally let me attend, everything was pretty new to me. My mother was the magic one in the family. Her grandmother, my great-grandmother, before her had the magic gene. Going to school was the same experience as going from a muggle-borns perspective. The difference is, I knew more about its existence. I would look at yearbooks my mom had from when she went here. She earned a lot of titles, all the achievements being recorded down. I always wondered why she never wanted me to come here. Did something happen to me, to her? I’m guessing she just wanted a normal life with dad. He has always supported her through everything. A love, a bond like that is hard to come by. He would also learn about magic right next to me. At least, the stuff my mom allowed to let us know.

That’s why I want to learn as much as I can, of what’s available. Why learn math in the muggle world when I could be learning divination. Spells of all types, potions for everything of inconvenience. My chores could be completed with just a flick of my wand. I’ve lately been learning wandless magic, on my own. Albus has helped by providing me with material to study that type of magic. The only thing I’ve managed so far is a spark coming from the tips of my fingertips. Sparking hope that I could actually, maybe, achieve that level. Now I won't get my hopes up, but that can lead me to a certain advantage in dueling. That being one of my weakest skills. Always panicking, saying any spells that pop up in my mind, and making random movements coming from my wand. Often confusing who I’m up against, although they recover from that confusion fairly quickly.

Riddle, met him once. One too many if you would ask me. I dissuade ever wanting to speak to him. Arrogance and pride flow through his tongue like second nature. I do take pride in succeeding above him in 3 classes. He is 2 classes above me but, that’s not the point. I do admit, he’s attractive. Only a little though, how else would he charm his way through the professors and students.

“Alright, I’m ready to go. You guys done?”

“Yeah,” I say. Devyn and I start leaving our seats and heading towards the huge doors.

Amelia hurried from her seat, a few steps behind since she took some fruit with her to eat on the way. More and more students also started making their way towards the first period. Not wanting to be blamed for the loss of house points. This system causes so many fights, everyone’s competitive side getting the best of their common sense. I would be lying if I said it didn’t get the best of me before. Amelia being her usual bubbly self skips backward while chatting with us. Before we could warn her to stop, she pushes someone ahead of her. Both falling down, hitting the floor. She spins her head extremely quickly, her hair sticking in her mouth from the force of the wind.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” she explains. Quickly trying to digest her situation. I make my way towards her and pull her up. I fix her robe and dust off any dirt on the cloth from the floor.

“Clearly idiot, can you not use those bug eyes of yours to see?”

Devyn and I make eye contact. We understand that there are witnesses here, and one of them is bound to snitch on us if we fight. A huge scene would probably make Amelia feel even more embarrassed as well. Instead, I guided Amelia by her back. We continue on to class while I comfort her. Devyn is staying back to “talk” to the guy. Lestrange is in for it now, any poor soul would be when in the fiery path of her anger.

Devyn’s loud yells could still be slightly heard when entering the potions classroom. First class of the year, and day. On Slughorn’s table, I can see a vial with the wideye potion contained inside. I set Devyn’s textbook on her station, turning to the page that contains information on the potion. Hoping to save her confusion and time.

“Welcome, welcome! Nice to see some old faces, and new ones,” he says with the biggest grin on his face. “Today we’ll be learning about the Wideye potion. Can anyone tell me what this potion does?”

I quickly raise my hand, rather eager. I did some reading about a lot of potions during the summer. Trying to get a headstart on my studies. This potion being one of them. Only 3 students raised their hand, one of them being me. The other, well, Riddle.

“Yes, go ahead and answer,” the professor looks my way.

I smile, “The wideye potion prevents the person consuming the liquid the ability to fall asleep. Which is often used in the medical field to wake someone from a sleep caused by a blunt force or drug.”

“Precisely! 10 points.”

I look back rather smugly at Riddle, rather happy I got chosen instead of him. I know, he could have easily answered that too. I’ll let myself bask in the small achievement for now. 30 minutes of class is just spent writing down notes, preparing us for the potion we will make. Note-taking is my favorite, especially the little doodles I get to make. We use a feather instead of the regular pen. I found it rather amusing and liked the certain feeling of writing with it. The dipping noise that the point of the feather makes when hitting the liquid ink is a very profound sound. No real writer’s bump forming on my fingers.

“That’s enough writing, I need you all to prepare your cauldron, gather the materials you need, and start your potion. If done correctly, tomorrow when we add the finishing touches and check on it the potion should be a blue/green color,” Slughorn comments. “You have 10 minutes to study your notes, then the rest of the class to make your potion. No looking back at your notes after those ten minutes.”

After scanning my notes, I stand up and walk towards the ingredients on the shelves. If I remember correctly my potion requires snake fangs, standard ingredient, and wolfsbane. I gather all that in my hand and set it down near my cauldron. Before I start, I take a moment. I’m missing something, I’m sure there was another ingredient.

Wolfsbane, check.

Snake fangs, six of them.

I have the measures of Standard ingredient.

There’s one more, I try to look around the room. Then I remember that we get an automatic failing grade if caught cheating. There’s no way I’ll let my grade drop like that. Over something so small and inconvenient too. Making my way to the shelves, I scan over the ingredients over and over again. Trying to see if any of the names pop out to me.

No.

Definitely not.

That’s an ingredient?

I don’t even want to know how that one was obtained.

This one, of course it’s this one. I even remember putting a star next to the name in my notebook. Dried Billwig stings, I believe six of them were needed. All that time wasted. Hurrying to my seat I get to work. The time goes by quickly, all that could be heard was the sizzling and whooshing of our potions. I almost knocked down my vials a couple of times. Someone actually did, their time spent on cleaning the glass off the floor. After heating the first three ingredients, I crush them together in the mortar. Then stir clockwise from what I recall, three times specifically. Finally, I wave my wand over then leave it to brew.

Just in time from the looks of it. I glance at Devyn to see how it went for her, and she looks pretty proud of herself. I take that as a blessing that it didn’t blow up this time of round. I’m guessing she took our advice and did it her own way.

A student raises his hand, “May we leave?”

“Oh yes yes, go ahead. No assignments for the first day, only the potion you made in class.”

Before I leave the classroom I examine Riddle’s station. He already left the room. His potion looks similar to how mine turned out, his workspace thoroughly cleaned. Everything used properly placed back to where it should be. Perfectly spotless, not a single speck of dust in sight. All done without magic too, surprising for someone born into the wizarding world. When I mentioned that I met him once, it wasn’t much of anything. The only way I know how he really acts is through other people. Much admire his intelligence and strong will. Others are jealous of the potential he holds for the future.

Girls are already trying to slip love potions into his drinks. I would feel bad if he wasn’t so rude to them. Only just before touching the disrespectful line. He almost drank one of their attempts before. Wouldn’t want to imagine how that turned out. Tom riddle, in love. That man probably doesn’t know the feeling of happiness, let alone love. I feel bad for his future girlfriend, she’s going to have to deal with a handful of baggage.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

“How much do you want to bet Nott will demolish him?” A Gryffindor girl to my left whispers.

Nott, part of Riddle’s group from what I’ve seen. They all eat lunch together and talk to one another so it’s a reasonable guess. Very talented duellist, one of the bests here.

“I hate to admit it, but he’ll definitely win this. I’ll still have hope for the other guy though,” I whisper back trying not to sound mean.

Nott and the other Slytherin boy are up right now. It’s a courtesy for the audience to stay quiet until someone casts the first attack or defense. From then on all you will hear is shouting of encouragement and the opposite. Nott’s eyes are focused, zoning in on the opponent before him. His wand is steady, mouth slightly parted to breathe through better. Whole-body alert and tense waiting for something. From what I'm getting, I believe he’s waiting for the Slytherin boy to go first. Nott casts spells quickly and thinks them through decently. Sometimes you're not able to create a counter-spell quick enough to defend yourself against him.

Riddle’s group and himself are near the corner of the platform. All seemingly analyzing every breath he inhales and exhales. I finally hear the whoosh of a wand and a whiz of light fly past the platform. The glow from the spell lighting our faces for a millisecond. Nott quickly counters that spell and moves to cast his own. Magic flies across the platform, all of our eyes going back and forth like a ping-pong match. The Slytherin boy starts breaking a sweat. He’s only been able to get a couple of offensive spells in there, most of his plays spent throwing off Nott’s. If he doesn’t turn the battle soon, the outcome will become very clear.

It is a little less exciting since we only know a handful of spells. So whatever you know from your own studies you use in these duels. When we move up the years the class will become more serious and dangerous. Right now it’s just to teach us how to counter and cast quickly. The proper etiquette and movement. You use spells that you know, they aren’t supposed to harm someone. Either stun them, make them fly back, or disarm. Most of those spells require a little of a higher level, most of us not even knowing of its existence yet. So what’s mostly cast between competitors is a basic spell to exert force. That force should be aimed for the legs, or the wand to disarm that way. The way someone can win here is to make their knees or hands touch the floor, or disarm their wand. As I mentioned, it will get more intense as time goes by. We're only just starting 3rd year right now, a lot more charms will be learned later on.

I shake my head to get rid of any lingering thoughts. My attention goes right back to the duel taking place in front of me. Nott quickly aims a spell at the knees and manages to bring the other boy to his knees.

“Mr. Nott wins this duel! Please step off the platform, we will evaluate your performance.”

During the practice duels today, you watch it, think of ways to help the person improve, and point out things they might have done wrong. At the end, the professor picks people raising their hands to allow them to give their feedback. Participating is part of the grade you get in here. I personally prefer giving feedback then dueling. I’m not the best at casting, I do give out good defense spells though. That should mean something, I hope.

“Let’s start with Nott, does anyone have feedback for him?”

A couple of people spread apart raised their hands. One by one they all ask questions and give feedback. They mention his feet and posture when he stands. Arms fully stretched out where it would have been more flexible to bend it slightly. When he casts he shouldn’t be walking backward. They shortly switch to the other boy’s questions and feedback. The way he never gave himself the opening to cast an offensive spell often. He would move around his area a lot. Almost slipping off the stage during one of those movements. Tom and his group privately discussed with one another. They’re probably giving Nott their own feedback and suggestions privately.

“Now, Riddle I want you to come up and…,” he scans the room for another student. After some time he points his finger at me. “You.”

I could have had a smooth sailing class. I was so close to not having to go up there. My hands start sweating a bit, my anxiety jumbling my thoughts together. Riddle’s already up there and soon to be on his side of the platform. Taking his wand out and wandering his fingers over the design. I gulp, a big toad stuck in my throat. I wipe my hands on my robe and start up the stairs. Riddle seems as unbothered as ever. We bow, turn, then walk ten paces back. During this time I try predicting who will cast first. I don’t know him very well, I’ve also never seen him duel.

I take my dueling stance and wait for the signal to start. Hoping, praying, that I don’t embarrass myself. Slipping up is not allowed, not when going against him.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

Taglist:

@empath-bunny

#tom riddle x oc #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #lord voldemort #death eaters #voldemort #horcrux #hogwarts #harry potter #wizard #post wizarding war #enemies to allies #enemies to lovers #angst #oc #poc #Oc is any race #moldy voldy

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opheliasbrokenmind · 3 years

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lucky - will graham

that’s what i do when i have an important upcoming exam because i have no self-discipline... well someone’s gotta do what they gotta do, right? i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing and please please let me know what you think!! i got the idea from a fight i had with my sister recently -yeah i use shitty things that happened to me in my stories-

feel free to send me an ask for will, his character is so fun, and also painful, to write. GIF CREDITS TO THE OWNER, it’s an amazing one

The cold breeze caused you to shiver as you walked to the house, it seemed like it was in the middle of the nowhere, as it was somewhere special only you knew. A shelter for me to hide from the real world, you thought and smiled with the idea, Will would smile if he heard that, looking at the many dogs of him. The clock on your phone showed it was 4.30 am and the lights weren’t on to your luck, meaning Will was asleep. You cheered for him, it wasn’t common for Will to get a good sleep.

Before reaching for the keys in your coat’s pocket, you tried to open the door and as usual, the door wasn’t locked. You stepped inside, trying to be quiet as much as possible and left the small suitcase on the ground, turning to hang your coat. You weren’t ready to face reality yet, you just wanted to crush on the couch with the dogs on the ground and sleep until your boyfriend get up.

‘Thought you were going to be in Nevada for the weekend.’ Will’s voice came from the kitchen and you froze, he sounded tired. ‘I was.’ You said quietly, walking to the kitchen, you were desperate to see him. ‘What happened?’ He asked calmly but you ignored the question, stepping closer to get a hug. Will welcomed you into his warm arms, he always did. He could feel your body relaxing in his embrace, you felt safe, you were home now.

‘Nothing, I just thought one evening is enough.’ You let out the lie, you both knew it wasn’t the truth but if you didn’t want to talk about it, Will would never push you. ‘Are you hungry or anything? I made some pasta for dinner.’ He asked softly as you stood in the dark, he sat on the counter while you rested your head on his shoulder, ‘You couldn’t sleep?’ You already knew the answer. ‘The new case is bothering me lately, and I’ve missed you.’

‘You could ask me to stay.’ Will knew he could do that and he knew you would cancel the trip without a blink, just to stay with him. But you haven’t seen your family for a while and he thought it was your right to go away to Nevada for a few days. ‘Yes, but they are your family, y/n.’ With that, you pulled away and smiled, ‘Oh, if you only knew... It was simply a disaster, Will. After dinner I was back at the airport.’

‘I... I can’t believe I thought it would be good, you know? I know my sister would be mad but I accepted to go anyway, I even thought she’d be nice. We sat for dinner, then my dad raised his glass, congratulating me for finishing my thesis. She said I had to make a show all the time, so dad will be on my side. That she’ll never have a second child, it’s such a shame she wanted me in the first place.’ Will stood silent, your words made him sad, he wasn’t there to have your back.

‘Then I just said the facts, that it’s nonsense the talk about a second child when she had none. She screamed at me, shouting she wants to get married and have children, she hates still living with mom and dad. She went to her room and you know what, mom said I was rude and she was right. That’s why I didn’t invite you, I know you’d be nice to them and all, but I just didn’t want you to witness the fiasco.’

‘I wasn’t mad you didn’t invite me, y/n. I mean, I don’t like meeting new people obviously but well, they are your parents so I’d like to think I’ll meet them at some point. What they did is wrong and you don’t deserve to be treated like this, they may be your family but that doesn’t give them the right to hurt you.’ He spoke calmly, although he was angry at your older sister, still wishing he was by your side back there.

You sighed and held his hands, guiding him to the bedroom, you wanted him to get some sleep before the morning and his work came to overwhelm him. ‘I know I can’t understand her but I can imagine how’s she feeling. She failed at some things in life and here I am, achieving things she refused to work for. I don’t think it’s my mistake, or my parents’. They gave her every opportunity, Will.’

‘I remember, when I was six or seven they almost begged her to choose a university, they were ready to pay any amount and she said she wasn’t interested, that studying was too boring. She refused every offer and worked in a few jobs, quitted quickly, spent most of the days outside, almost got engaged twice and now I bet she’s regretting her choices. It must be hard, being almost forty and still living with your parents.’

You explained simply as he took his place on the bed, watching you take off your clothes, folding them neatly. Then you reached for one of his t-shirts, with the white one you reminded him of an angel in the dark. ‘You’re right but she’s not your burden, you have every right to be happy for yourself and you should be, you are kind, successful and caring.’ Will said quietly and patted the bed, ‘Come here.’ You obeyed eagerly, loving the feeling of being close to him.

‘Dad asked about you by the way, he’s quite excited for the genius I’m sleeping with, you know?’ He chuckled softly with your words, ‘The genius, huh? I’d go with a different wording.’ You felt your smile fading away, exactly getting what he meant. A freak, he’d call himself after having another seizure. ‘You are not how you see yourself Will, believe me, and I already know he will like you because you’re the best thing that happened to me, ever.’

He sighed, your voice was sweet yet what you said was bitter, his insecurities attacking him just like the shadows of his nightmares. You were honest as always and he stopped for a moment, nobody has ever said the things you told him, he never thought he could be this important to a person without any intentions.

Then he felt your arm resting on his chest, drawing small, soothing circles. You felt he was thinking so you just waited until he was back with you, ‘Stop criticizing yourself, please.’ You reached to left a kiss on his cheek but he turned his face so you met with his lips, your lips brushing slightly as you smiled, finally connecting your lips. The kisses you shared always made you feel safe, you knew everything would be alright.

Your fingers found his curls and you pulled a little, just so he gave you the access to his mouth, letting you take over the control. As if you were kissing for the first time, your blood rushed with adrenaline. Once you broke the kiss, he embraced you with his strong, long arms. ‘This feels real and I know it is real. You keep me sane, y/n, just you. I... I don’t where I’d be now without you.’

‘And you keep me going when I feel like I can’t do things anymore.’ You replied, tracing his biceps with your fingers. Will was relaxed now, he knew he was safe with you, even the dogs seemed to be calmer when you were around. ‘I know,’ he whispered, ‘and I love you.’ Then he kissed you goodnight and closed his eyes, knowing you’d be wide awake until you were sure he was asleep. At that moment, he felt like the luckiest man in the world. Little did he know that was the same feeling you had at that moment.

#dsknbdjfbsd my biggest dream is to sleep with william graham himself #not only sleeping obivously...#just choke him with my love #will graham #will graham x reader #will graham fic #hugh dancy #hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter

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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years

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Harringrove April Day 16- Nostalgia

On just about every flat surface in their mansion, Steve’s mother had put out some fancy Tiffany light fixture.

Steve’s room was the only place in the whole house he got to have any day in the interior design, and his lamp, well it didn’t quite have a stained glass shade, or ornate detailing to fancy up the mansion, his happens to be an old nursery lamp from when he was six and still had a themed bedroom.

At the peak of his too cool for school teenager bullshit, he’d attempted to throw it out, sent it away to the curb with a bag of stuffed animals he claimed he didn’t need anymore, but the very same night he started having nightmares again, so he scrambled to get it back before the raccoons found it first.

That dusty old lamp had saved him from countless nights spent awake and terrified, and he wasn’t one to say he was ashamed of that.

Except, now Billy Hargrove, the pinnacle of badass, is in his room, and there it is, still plugged in on the nightstand.

Of all things too, it couldn’t have just been a generic race car lamp or something he could play off as not really being for kids, it had to be stupid Bambi.

There’s a story behind it, that when he was a toddler, his first venture out of Indiana was to go see his gramma over in Maryland, and, after one look at his big brown eyes and his fluffy brown hair, she immediately nicknamed him Bambi.

After that the name just sort of stuck with him, his parents using it when they wanted on his good side, to make up for forgetting his birthday, or as an apology for leaving him alone so long the babysitter left, so of course his mom thought it would be adorable if his bedroom was themed around it.

Somewhere in a dusty corner of the attic, he still had the curtains and the quilt and the wall hangings, and under his bed was a pillow embroidered with his name and a picture of the clumsy cartoon deer made by his gramma. And of course, there was the brightly shining lamp.

He would never admit that he kept them there for when he was at his most frightened, clutching the pillow to his chest during a nightmare, or wrapping the soft material of the tiny old quilt around his shoulders when he felt an imaginary pair of eyes watching him.

Because Steve had seen some shit, he felt that after witnessing a ten-foot tall faceless monster come through the ceiling and try to kill him, and having a herd of baby versions of that same monster charge at him with nothing but a baseball bat to protect himself and a group of defenseless children, he had earned the right to use a damn nursery lamp in his bedroom.

But, that ass-backwards swell of pride at still using his childhood comfort items at 19 years old is definitely crushed by the fact that, after being in his room for a grand total of five minutes, that’s immediately what Billy drifts to.

A drunken apology at a New Year’s party might have made up for the concussion and proved he was probably not going to beat his face in again, but it didn’t change the fact that he was in Steve’s bedroom with the edge of the printed lampshade pinched between his fingers, and a contemplative look on his face.

It was a little while after their truce was reached, that Billy just started showing up at the Harringtons’ door unannounced. Sometimes it was to borrow Steve’s first aid kit. Sometimes he’d steal some of his weed. Once he’d come over just to watch something on Steve’s TV. Whatever his reason, Steve had let him in every time.

In this particular instance, it had been Steve who had called Billy, because he had a math project and an essay due first thing tomorrow morning, and Nancy was too busy to help him.

At first he’d considered just not getting the work done, but he decided Billy would do. He was smart enough that the co-ed teacher in the math class they shared had begged him to switch to the advanced classes, so Steve figured his help wouldn’t be so bad.

But his desk where all of his school stuff is is upstairs in his bedroom, where he’s left out the dumb baby lamp, and of course that would be exactly what Billy goes straight for. Steve feels himself start to panic a little, unsure if he could trust Billy’s reaction, and convincing himself that Billy might beat his ass for being a fragile little fairy or something.

It never comes, Billy just sits down all casual on the bed next to Steve, pulling one of his legs up so he could cross it over his knee, and nods over at the lamp again. “Wish I still had something from when I was little.”

The weight of the entire universe is lifted from Steve’s chest, knowing that Billy isn’t going to tear his head off. He lets out a sharp breath he didn’t know he was holding in. “Yeah?”

Billy nods and looks down, fidgeting with the pendant he always wore around his neck. “My dad threw everything out. All I have is one little picture of my mom.”

Steve knew he lived with his step-mom, but had never even thought about what happened to Billy’s real mother. He realizes the pendant was probably a locket, the very one that holds the aforementioned picture, and asks “Can I see it?”

It looks like Billy has to think about it, as he keeps twisting the locket between his fingers, before he nods and opens it. Steve leans towards him, putting his hand up under it and holding it in his palm, straining to see the tiny, aged picture.

Even though he’s never seen this woman, it makes Steve incredibly sad, seeing her little face all worn out in that locket around her son's neck. He wonders if she was dead, or if maybe she’d lost custody for some reason, or if maybe she had just left, but whatever happened, when his eyes flicker back up to Billy’s face, the tears shining in his eyes and the way he avoids his gaze, he knows better than to ask.

Steve lets the locket fall and watches Billy snap it shut quickly, and he realizes he has no idea what the right thing to say is.

What he wants to say is that he’s sorry, for him losing his mother and having nothing but one yellowed and tear stained picture to remember her by, but that seems too much like prying, somehow not really appropriate.

Instead, he remembers what Billy said about his dad throwing his stuff out and says, “Your dad must be a real asshole, huh?”

Billy scoffs and blinks away the last of the tears in his eyes. “You’ve got no idea, Harrington.” There’s a long awkward pause, until Billy asks, “You know how I’m always coming over here with like, all kinds of shit wrong with me?”

Steve thinks he knows where this was going. “Sure.”

Chewing on the corner of his nail, Billy takes a moment to get his thoughts together, his eyes flitting nervously across the room, focusing on pretty much anything but Steve, mostly the picture frame behind him. “I lied. It’s not, like, fights or whatever I say. At least not with other kids.”

Steve himself was no stranger to conversations like these, he himself had to confess something of a similar calibre to Nancy, when they were still dating, because his father had come home from a business trip pissed off about something, and slapped him across the face just a little too hard. The sturdy silver ring that he wore on his middle finger had split the skin on Steve’s cheek, and he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse to cover his tracks.

Admitting to it out loud was one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do, so he decides he won’t make Billy say it. Maybe they weren’t on the best of terms, only here to do homework or whatever, but if he was going to open up about this, he definitely wasn’t going to make him experience that same humiliation he had.

“Is it your dad? That does that to you?” Nancy hadn’t been kind enough to spare him, forcing him to tell her once that the scar he so proudly sported wasn’t actually from a fist fight with Tommy like he said, and he wouldn’t do the same to Billy.

In lieu of a response though, Billy sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, his hands starting to shake ever so subtly, and Steve knows he’s got to keep pressing. “Do you need help? I can call the chief-“

“No.” Billy shakes his head and makes eye contact with Steve for the first time since he started talking. “Cops only make it worse.”

Steve could understand that, had tried once when he was about eight or so, with the assistance of one of the housekeepers, to call the police when his father twisted his arm so far behind his back his shoulder popped out of place, but they wouldn’t dare arrest a public figure like his father, especially not for a little corporal punishment. The first thing they’d asked was what Steve had done wrong, not why his father had felt it fitting to beat on his eight year old for a tiny mistake. He never asked for help again.

“Well is there anything I can do?” Despite their differences and the fact that he only called him here to cheat on his homework, he truly did want to help Billy. Something about repeatedly surviving horrific monster attacks made him a lot more protective of those around him, and now that they were over their dumb pissing contest, Billy was included in that too.

“Think you’ve done enough letting me into your mansion, unless that’s not good enough for your hero complex.” It was a pathetic jab, there was no bite behind his broken tone, and Steve would almost rather have him at his worst than see him so vulnerable and sad.

Steve tries to reason with him softly, “You know it’s not like that, Billy.”

“Do I?” Walls had been put up as Billy made his last ditch efforts to protect himself from being weak in front of Steve. “Cause where I’m sitting, it seems like you get off on charity cases like mine. You tryin to swoop in and save me, King Steve? Feed your ego so you can feel like the savior you were always meant to be?”

He was baiting him, trying to pick a fight so he’d push him away, Steve had seen it all before in himself and wouldn’t fall for it. “Listen. I just want to help you.”

Everything about Billy suddenly seemed to make a whole lot more sense. That whole part animal, tough guy thing was just an act, and Steve knew because he had done essentially the same thing.

Before Nancy Wheeler had taught him to be better, he and Billy really weren’t so different. He’d let high school bullshit bother him, beat up the nerds and fucked all the cheerleaders and mocked anyone lower than him on the social ladder like he was supposed to, but it always made him feel off.

In the end, it had been so easy to get him to the other side, to show him what to do instead, he supposed all he needed was a little push to help him actualize what he already believed.

And then it hits him, in that moment, that this was Billy’s push in the right direction. That he was Billy’s Nancy.

“I don’t expect you to tell me everything and I’m not doing this for me, just,” It became extremely important to him to not set Billy off, to say just the right thing to keep him on the right track. “my door is always open, Billy.”

At first, it seemed to have worked, Billy sat staring at the floor, his lip quivering as he mulled over Steve’s words, but, when he stood abruptly and snatched his leather jacket from where it was draped over the back of Steve’s desk chair, Steve knows he messed up.

“Where are you going?” He stands up fast enough to give himself a head rush while Billy shrugs his jacket back on and yanks the door open.

“Need a smoke.” That’s all he gets before the door slammed in his face, and he hears Billy's heavy boots stomping down the stairs and the sound of him slamming his front door.

He waits with bated breath and tears pricking the corners of his eyes for the sound of Billy’s car starting and tearing out of his driveway, but it never comes.

Still, he feels immensely guilty and selfish and stupid as all hell for not just biting his tongue. He should’ve just fought back, argued with him like was expecting him to instead of trying to be comforting like he was his fucking therapist or something.

Because this was Billy fucking Hargrove, stereotypical meat head bully. Why he even felt the need to help him, other than their similar upbringings and coping mechanisms, or the fact that Billy had obviously been reaching out, hoping for someone to care, was beyond him. Or maybe it really wasn’t, he knew exactly why, he just felt weak and stupid for trying, and especially so for failing.

Apparently he’d been so caught up in his little pity party that he missed the sound of the door opening back up, and didn’t notice Billy had come back until his bedroom door was open.

Steve was so relieved that Billy came back, that he hadn’t pushed him too far or fucked everything up, even if he reeked of too strong cigarettes, and growled at him when he came in, “Don’t we got fucking work to do, Harrington?”

They don’t end up finishing the essay. Steve was hopeless with numbers, and they were too busy goofing off, so the math project didn't get done very quickly. It was okay though, Billy wasn’t much help at all when it came to English anyways.

Steve walks him outside when he has to go, beating a curfew of midnight. He stops on the porch, immediately crossing his arms against the frigid cold of the night air. Billy stops too at his car, his fingers through the handle, and turns around, calling across the yard. “Hey Harrington?”

He hardly waits for Steve’s response, a quick “Yeah?” to tell him, “Thank you.”

There isn’t time for Steve to respond before Billy’s yanking open the door of his Camaro and backing out of the driveway, but he knows he’d still made astronomical progress tonight.

It makes him feel incredibly dumb, laying in his bed that night, illuminated by the warm light of that very same Bambi lamp and trying to put his thoughts of Billy to rest like he was some cheesy teenage girl, but he’s just happy to have found a friend, to have made a difference in somebody’s life, and he knows that on the other side of town, laying in own bed with his locket left open on the pillow beside him, Billy feels the same way.

#harringrove #harringroveapril #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #ej writer #story by ej!#love how I had something completely different planned but ran out of time and had to dig in my drafts for this fic #and it still took me forever to edit it

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beautifulweird0 · 4 years

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Forgiving Your Parents

I know too many people who’ve experienced some form of trauma from their parents. This isn’t a blog about bashing your folks- this is hopefully a post that will help salvage some strained parent and child relationships. Cause I been there, done that-and understanding your parent is only feasible if your parent is interested in understanding you.

My disclaimer is this: The child isn’t responsible for mending the relationship...solely. I’mma tell you like this, if your parent doesn’t want anything to do with you...skip em’.

Because that’s backwards as hell and that takes away from loving yourself. Anyway you chop it, if you find yourself forcing yourself on a “parent”, the relationship isn’t going to go anywhere-AND THAT’S NOT YOUR FAULT OR CONCERN. YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL! YOU ARE EXTREMELY WORTHY. I’m so sorry your people ain’t solid; it’s a reflection of them-not you.

It’s my belief that something is wrong with a person if they want no parts of having a relationship with their child. Literally so messed up from their own unhealed traumas that they can’t find it within themselves to love someone they created…

Ain’t no fixing on that unless you take they ass to a therapist.

Moving on.

I’ve always had such a strong feeling in my gut when I come across new people. It’s like they look at me and think I got it all. Truly looking at me and seeing a woman who doesn’t have insecurities or childhood traumas spotted along her path cause I’m kind and always make it a point to smile like Granny told me.

I’m usually a private person. But its always been that ‘pull’ on me-telling me… “It’s another little girl that is going through the same stuff you went through. Say that shit anyway. And with your chest.” .

Think about it...

Can’t a soul embarrass you about some stuff you open about. That takes all the fun out of their miserable lives if folks know wassup already.

So as a 22 year old woman that been through some mess with her people, let me share pieces of me. Cause the last thing you want on your conscience is one of your parents passing and ya’ll not being on the best of terms.

I was listening to Mad Bitches the other day and Mikhala Jene said something along the lines of, “Nobody living is perfect”.

That hit me a little different. Like damn...nobody walks this earth perfect so...why do we expect perfection (again, subconsciously).

THIS.

This is why I say if your parent is trying, then work with them. If they sit down with you and tell you how life was for them coming up. The good parts, the ugly parts, and everything in-between. Trying their best to be authentic and build a bond, then meet em’ halfway (if they haven’t been on some stuff that’s just unforgivable).

And shit, our people ain’t have everything at their fingertips as we do. The apps that spread information quicker than you could sneeze, weren't available. They couldn’t go on a ‘self-care’ page to calm themselves down if triggered or go on YouTube and watch motivational videos. Not making excuses, just using a little perspective that helps me! Yet and still, let your parent(s) know if they did something to wrong you; you gotta’ have respect for yourself as a human. Period.

I didn’t find out who my biological father was until I was about 16 years old. Up until that point I believed another man was my father (which he is still and will always be!).

Sooo...I already had abandonment issues from my parents and my dad lived in a way at that time, that all parties involved thought it was best my grandparents took us in. That’s all I know is Granny’s (& Grandpa’s) house since I was a baby.

It helped that when my mom told me who my biological dad was, she was in a much better state of mind and stable-but man...I didn’t know what to feel. My sister was more upset than me (cause we have the same dad hypothetically).

So many questions ran through my head that I couldn’t even cry or be mad. I was shocked. Everyone played their role so well…

There was a long road ahead of me. Not only did I have to forgive my mom and dad for lying to me for so long, but there was a father in the same city I had yet to know.

My first point is patience. If you aren’t going to be patient with an end goal for you and your parent, you’re wasting your time. Being prepared for them to fumble sometimes is mandatory if y’all going to get to a better place. You mess up on certain projects or what have you’s a few times before you get it right...right?

Give your parent the same energy if you were in their shoes. Cause baby...ain’t nothing worse than admitting your wrongs and still getting beat down. I couldn’t bring myself to be mad at my mom in that moment where she was vulnerable and upset cause she knew she played a part in hurting me. What was it gone do but make me feel bad and her feel worse?

Blowing up wasn’t going to change what happened now 22 years ago.

Yeah, there’s hella’ books on parenting but I’mma tell y’all like my Granny told me, “There’s no such thing as a book on how to be a parent.”.

Having a child of my own- I’ve been witness to this. Folks can be shown and folks can be told on how to do certain things but with each child being different in this world, you have to be intune with them specifically- no book on that.

I was through hell and back with my mother and now we’re in an extremely better place because we both made the effort (more-so on her part 🌚).

But it was my responsibility to go into it with pure intentions and my guard down a bit after she made the effort; disappointment is what I expected sometimes cause I went into it knowing it was going to be a process.

Don’t get it confused, my mom always knew how I was-that wasn’t the issue. The new end goal was getting to know each other again so I could understand her better so I could forgive her. That’s no sucka’ shit. Its real. Everybody in this life is going to disappoint you, one way or another. Better to know what you’re dealing with so you can assess the situation in order to better assess the person. Free game.

Another step to keep in mind is, boundaries. I just feel like it will make the whole exchange smoother-not easier- but smoother. The point of forgiving your parents and (if you chose) trying to build a relationship, is to have them know you for who you are NOW. Not when you were 5, not when you was 12...have them meet you at your level. They dropped the ball, not you. Sure...nobody asked to be here but that becomes invalid when you start having babies of your own. It’s a different ball game when you bring a life into this world. Your joys become the joy of your children but way too often we forget that our pain becomes theirs as well.

My father always tried too-the dad that I always knew as my dad. On weekends me and my sister would go to his house before he moved to Michigan. Man I was a daddies girl-still am. My grandparents had the house on lock, couldn't watch programs with cussing in it or too much violence. Life of having Southern Baptist grandparents I guess.

The weekends at pops house was always interesting. I could watch all the music videos I wanted and watch the movies that didn't have too much goin on in them.

My dad would do different stuff with us like go to the library; he always knew I loved reading. Sometimes my dad would take us to the park or a friends house who had kids (how I met my husband), water parks, or even cooking dinner with me and my sister; plenty of quality time where I could talk to him about anything.

However, at the time, pops lived a certain lifestyle and no matter how hard he tried to shield it from us younger kids, I still seen things and experienced things a child shouldn't have. Again, comes with the lifestyle I guess.

My dad drunk...ALOT. And it was interesting to see the 'upsides' of alchoholism and the very big downsides. I'd never forget, I was maybe 8? Another weekend at my dads, just me and my sister (I have multiple brothers on that side too plus another sister), and I woke up one morning on the couch. My dad was goin through some things- all he had was a couch that he let me and my little sister sleep on. My 1st thought when I woke up was where was my dad sleeping? My sister was sleep, and it was still fairly early in the morning. I go back to the empty bedroom to find him sleep on the floor. No pillow. No cover. Just a beer in hand, laid out. That broke my heart.

Just remember feeling sad all over. I took the beer, threw it away then grabbed the pillow I had and laid it under his head. While doing so, my dad woke up, halfway and kissed my hand.

He told me straight up he loves me and he apologized. Didn't go into detail but he didn't have to. My dad never had his pops in his life, nor his mama until he was grown and was taking care of her though her illness.

I knew even at 8 years old that, that gotta hurt. I'm not gone sit here and act like I always understood the motives of my father but I tried because he always tried to understand me and til' this day, he is one of the top 3 people that KNOWS me like the back of his hand.

I had to forgive my parents because they’ve come a long way. Holding all that anger and resentment wasn’t gone help me in the long run. And in a way I can say I've helped to heal them by loving them through their screw ups. We always talk about a parents love but what about a child's love?

I don’t want to pass down my pain to my son, he don’t need that- the world will give its fair share. But everyday I pray that the world won’t hurt him bad. I want my son to be nothing less than strong mentally, emotionally, but most of all spiritually. He won’t have that unless I’m solid. So I ask myself… ‘hm, what’s still hurting me?’.

We all got a story to tell.

Love. Peace. Manifest.

#black #love #hate #generationalcurses #generations #hurt #healing #blackfamilies #blog #monetsway #alcoholism #mother #father

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