#I am sick and my brain. she is made of wet noodles | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

BTS Reaction ||Sad Prompts [Part 2]

A/N Part Two to the Sad Prompts WARNING THAT NAMJOONS AND HOSEOKS ARE CONSIDERED SMUTTY

PART ONE

Seokjin:

Jin walked into the apartment, Jimin had called him after you broke down in his arms about the breakup, Jimin yelled at his Hyung to get his act together, to stop acting like he didn’t love you when he knew he did, you were asleep on the sofa when he came in, you looked peaceful at first glance but on a second proper look, he could tell you hadn’t slept right in months or eaten properly either. Your hair was up in a messy bun, you were wearing one of your shirts which previously fit you nicely but was now hanging off your body since you’d lost so much weight, he looked around the apartment living room, it looked as though you’d been sleeping on the sofa instead of up in the bedroom, he walked up the stairs quietly so he didn’t wake you up and found the bedroom the same way he’d left it the night he ended everything. Except there was a box of his things on the bed, which is what Jimin was supposed to bring back with him that night but didn’t, he walked to your side of the bed and down one of his shirts tucked under the pillow as well as a plush RJ sitting against it, he felt guilty about what he’d done to you, he thought he was doing what was best, he walked out of the room coming down the stairs where he found you standing with a baseball bat.

“What are you doing!?” He yelled jumping back from you, you scoffed putting it down and shaking your head.

“I thought someone broke in, I heard footsteps.” You said before going over to the sofa and laying back down, too tired to even ask what he was doing here.

“Have you eaten?” He questioned, you grumbled something he didn’t quite catch.

“What?” He asked again coming further into the room, you pointed at the half-eaten banana on the table.

“That’s not real food.” He whispered you sat up from the sofa.

“Why do you even care Jin? Huh? Why are you even here?!” He ignored you going straight into the kitchen and going through the fridge as if he owned the place, which technically he did.

“You’re so tired you’re sleeping in the day and night, don’t think Jimin hasn’t told me about your eating habits!” He said as he got out ingredients to make food for you, you were too tired to fight him on this, your whole body was exhausted from not feeding it right, your eyes were heavy and you just laid down, hoping that when you opened them he would be gone. Jin continued to rant on and on in the kitchen as he began cooking not realising you were asleep on the sofa.

(X)

“Eat.” He ordered sliding the bowl of food over to you, you looked down at the noodles and grabbed some chopsticks, slowly eating the noodles he’d made. He placed a cup of Vitamin C on the table along with some other multivitamins for you to take, you stared at them.

“Why are you still here?” You questioned, he looked at you and then at his watch,

“Why wouldn’t I still be here, I have nowhere to be.” You scoffed at him, putting down the chopsticks after one mouthful of noodles.

“Because you dumped me is why you shouldn’t be here, what about all your other girlfriends?” You jeered, he picked up food on his own chopsticks and put them against your lips, you opened and chewed on the food he’d given you,

“I figured Your world would be easier if I didn’t come back…" You swallowed hard and looked at him, he was finally opening up.

"But it wouldn’t be my world without you in it," He looked at you with a sad smile.

"I can see that…but…you can’t just, not, take care of yourself because I’m not here.” You leant back against the sofa and shook your head as he tried to offer you more food.

“I was doing fine…I wanted to lose weight.” He sighed coming over and sitting next to you, pulling your head down to rest on his shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere ever again…I promise I’ll never leave you…I only did it to make it easier on you…I never meant to hurt you.” He whispered you hummed as your eyes closed, you finally felt at ease now he was back in your life.

Yoongi:

You and Yoongi had been apart for three years, in those three years the both of you had been in relationships with other people but they were nothing like you had with one another, the passion was never there, the love you felt for Yoongi could never be replaced by someone else, which is why in those same three years whenever you would break up with someone or he would break up with someone, you could come back to one another no matter the circumstances, no matter the time-zones it will always be him and you.

“I don’t want to hear it!” Your boyfriend screamed at you, it was 2 am and you were fighting again, over Yoongi, you’d been texting him about meeting up for coffee now he was home for a while, like friends, but your boyfriend didn’t see it that way, he saw it as you planning to cheat on him, which wasn’t true, no matter how much you loved Yoongi you would never hurt someone else to be with him.

“I wasn’t going to cheat, he’s a good friend.” You pleaded, looking at him with tears in your eyes.

“If he’s just a friend why do you cry into your pillow when he leaves?! Why is he the first person you tell any good news to?!” You wanted to scream and tell him he was wrong but he wasn’t.

“If he’s just a friend…marry me. Marry me and commit to me.” You stayed silent as he stared at you, your brain was trying to process what was happening in front of you.

“Marry me Y/N.” He said again, dropping down onto one knee in front of you and promising he would buy a ring somewhere down the line.

“Make a promise that I’ll come before him…always.” You were still silent, a tear rolled down your cheek as you stared at the man in front of you, feeling so guilty that all you could picture was Yoongi doing the same, wanting you to marry him instead of your boyfriend.

“You can’t do it can you!?” He screamed, angry again, the thing closest to him was a wooden chair and he threw it against the wall, it splintered into tiny bits and he walked out of the shared bedroom slamming and locking you inside, all of your thoughts catching up to you, you pounded your fists against the door.

“Let me out!” But he was gone, so you sprinted for the bedroom window, it was small but not too small you couldn’t squeeze out of it.

(x)

“Yoongi…you have a visitor,” Hoseok said as he walked your shivering and wet body into the studio, the same studio you’d walked out of before, you were wrapped in a blanket that Hoseok had grabbed when you came in, you’d run away in the rain in nothing but a pair of shorts and a baggy t-shirt. You knew Yoongi would be in the studio until late he always was.

“A visitor, Hoseok it’s 3 am-” He stopped as soon as he saw your shivering body, he moved away from the desk abandoning the project he was on and sat you down on the sofa.

“Hobi go make hot chocolates.” He ordered, walking over to his coat rack and grabbing one of his hoodies and coming over to you, your teeth were chattering and you couldn’t stop trembling.

“You’re freezing, what were you doing out in the rain?!” He demanded answers but you couldn’t talk, you just laid down on his lap, he was shocked at first.

“You have to change out of the wet clothes before you catch a cold…I don’t want Y/BF/N getting mad at me because you’re sick.” Your breath hitched in your throat at his name.

“He asked me to marry him.” Was all you managed to say before changing into the jumper, not caring about being naked in front of Yoongi, he’d seen it all before.

“You…You can’t- You can’t marry anyone else you’re mine.” You hummed snuggling against him under the warm blanket and hoodie.

“He locked me in his bedroom…I had to get out of the window.” You explained, your eyes shut as he patted your hand lovingly.

“We had this big fight…about you and he asked me…I stayed silent because all I could picture was you, you asking me and not him…” His hands stopped as he looked at you, he smiled softly. Maybe this time would be the right time, maybe this time you would end up together instead of apart.

Hoseok:

“Tell me you don’t want this…Tell me you hate me and you’ll never think of me again and I will leave this church right now.” He said to you, your hands locked together as you stood in front of the window.

“Hoseok…I’m supposed to be getting married.” You pleaded, shaking your head, you looked in the mirror, you were still dressed in your gown and veil.

“So tell me you don’t want me.” He whispered against your neck, leaving a kiss trail up to your lips, he pushed you back against the wall hard and lifted one of your legs up to your hip, running his hand up and down your thigh where he felt your wedding garter, your brain was electrified, one touch and it was over, it was always that way with Hobi, he knew all your weak points.

“Tell me you don’t want this.” He whispered leaving a wet kiss against your neck before he rubbed you on the outside of your underwear, your toes dug into the ground below you as he thrust one finger inside of you, your fingers dug into his back as he did it, you could feel the smug smirk he was pulling against your skin, and then there was a knock on the door snatching you from the moment, you shoved him behind the changing screen, pulling your dress down in time for the door to open.

“Five minutes.” One of the bridesmaids said as she came in, she looked at you and frowned.

“You look flustered, you okay?” You nodded at her,

“Just a little nervous.” You lied looking at the changing screen as Hoseok smirked from behind it, he knew what he was doing to you, he always knew how to play you like a deck of cards, the bridesmaid frown before she left the room, you panted out of breath and pulled him back out from behind the screen and trying to kiss him again, but he shook his head.

“You have to leave him…I won’t be involved with a married woman.” He teased, his lips hovering above your neck.

“I can’t just leave…not on a whim…I have to…You have to.” He stared at you, straightening his suit jacket and walking towards the door, you wanted to cry out for him to stop, to stay with you and to hold you in his arms and never let you go.

(x)

“Hobi!” You yelled following him down the spiral concrete staircase of the church, he walked out of the back door and into the gravel carpark, you were picking up your dress so you didn’t fall on your face as you followed close behind him. You heels back up in the changing room as you abandoned them,

“Don’t leave.” You panted as he stopped outside his car, he looked at you with another grin on his face as he’d just gotten you to leave an entire wedding behind.

“Your husband to be is waiting.” He said taking off his tie and opening his car door, but you shook your head.

“ Three Words, Eight letters…say it and I’m yours.” You begged, he’d never been the best at letting you know how he felt but you knew he loved you, even if he didn’t say it.

“Say it.” You urged, looking behind you as you heard people calling out your name.

“I love you.” You threw your arms around his neck, dragging him into a kiss. It was unlike any of the other kisses you shared, it still had passion but this…this was a promise of realness, a promise that he loved you, he embraced you, his arms wrapping around you and ripping the veil from your head, you smirked into the kiss before pulling away, he took you to the passenger side of the car and opened the door.

“Your carriage my lady.” He joked helping you inside before going to his own seat and starting up the car.

“Where to?” He questioned pulling out of the church parking lot as people saw you, you threw the bouquet out of the window and smiled.

“A Mall, I need some new clothes.” He chuckled looking at you up and down then back at the road ahead of him.

“I don’t know…I kind of like this dress…you look hot and tempting.” You shook your head playfully pushing his arm.

Namjoon:

“Another party?” You questioned your friend as you stood getting read in your bedroom, she was throwing your clothes around your room and she found the perfect dress for you, thigh length, tight fitted and suited your body beautifully.

“You’ll wear this, you have a date to impress.” You scoffed at her, going to change in the wardrobe. You’d been dating a friend of her’s she’d set you up with, James, and he was great and all but it still didn’t remove your feelings from Namjoon, but you pressed on with the relationship hoping you would eventually move on from Joonie.

“He’s not impressed by what I wear.” You laughed coming out of the closet and slipping into the vans she’d left out for you, heels truly weren’t your thing.

“Whatever, you’re going to look smoking and you’re not going to bail on this party like the last one.” She said referring to the party where you last saw Namjoon, four months ago.

(x)

The party was packed full of people, your boyfriend James was off with some jock buddies so you were trying to find your friend, who was spotted making out with someone, you sighed going to the kitchen to get another drink when you felt someone pull you aside, you were now standing behind a group of girls all dancing while Namjoon looked down into your eyes.

“You’re here alone, what a pity.” You scoffed and looked around for James or your friend but neither of them were in sight.

“I’m not alone, I’m here with Y/F/N and James, my boyfriend.” You said back to him, just as confident as he was being with you, he still made you nervous but maybe it was the alcohol but you felt more confident than ever.

“You can’t tell me James is satisfying your needs.” He growled at you, you were taken back but he continued talking.

“He’s a jock meaning he’s a cold bedfellow.” He said again, you shook your head at him,

“Not that it’s any of your business but James and I have an amazing sex life.” He smirked, bending down to your ear level and began whispering in your ear.

“What names does he call you when you make love?” He forcefully spun you around so your back was against your chest, he ran his finger along your exposed neck, goosebumps rose to your skin as you felt his breath against your ear.

“Where does he put his hands?” He took hold of your hand.

“Does he-” He whispered in one ear before switching to another, his hand still gripping yours. He began whispering all of the things you used to do together, every move that made you weak at the knees, every move only Namjoon could do to you. He switched back again to the other ear.

“Be with me…leave him.”

“What?!” You whispered back to him in shock.

“You’re disgusting and I hate you.” Your hands were still interlocked with one another by your side, your back still pressed against his chest, you could feel his heart racing, and yours was matching his pace.

“Then why are you still holding my hand." You turned around to face him and it was instantaneous, his lips met yours, every thought and feeling coming back to you, crashing like waves into the sand, he pulled away for a brief second.

"Leave him and I’ll be all yours, no more games…no more running away, all yours."

Jimin:

You knew Jimin and his wife had been fighting for a while, whenever they would get into a fight he would come round and see you, talk to you about it and you would tell him it’s just new marriage stress, everything would settle down soon and they would be fine, he would leave and it would repeat all over again.

(x)

Tonight was different though, he’d shown up on your doorstep at 2 am, suitcase in his hand as he pounded on the door for you to answer.

"What’s going on?” You groaned, he pushed past you coming into the apartment, you shut the front door and stared at him.

“Come in Jimin, have a seat.” You said sarcastically coming into the living room and sitting down, he was standing up though and looking at you.

“Did you fight again?” He nodded and you got up to go and make you both a hot drink like you always would when he did this, but it wasn’t normal. He never came round with a suitcase, he just came round to talk it out and leave an hour or two later.

“We broke up.” The spoon you were using to stir the drinks with dropped out of hand and onto the countertop.

“Oh.” Was all you could manage to say to him, you brought in the drinks and placed them down in front of him, he was sitting on the sofa now.

“That explains the suitcase.” You said to him trying to make him laugh but it wasn’t working.

“So what happened?” You questioned leaning back against the sofa and looking at him, he bent forward and picked up his drink, sipping on it and you did the same.

“She thinks I’m in love with you.” You spat the drink back into the cup and stared at him, coughing a little, he just handed you a tissue and stared at you.

“She’s wrong, you married her, she can’t go thinking that sort of stuff.” You said while trying to pat yourself dry from the liquid you’d spilt.

“No she’s right, I am still in love with you.” You swallowed hard and looked at the suitcase again, standing up.

“You should get some sleep Jimin, this will all blow over by the morning, she’ll forget she said anything.” He stood up with you and walked closer to you.

“She kicked me out last week…I’ve been staying at the dorms, I didn’t want to come here first because I didn’t think you felt the same way you did back then.” Your back was pressed against the wall and you stared up into his eyes, he smiled moving a stray hair out of your face and cupping your cheeks.

“But then I spoke to Namjoon who told me you still do like me…after all this time.” You looked away from him but he pulled your cheeks to face him again, his hand ran through your hair and he began kissing you, it was a hard and urgent kiss, your hands slid up into his hair and his other hand slid around to your waist, pulling you closer to him, the kiss moving from your lips to your neck, you’d be longing for his touch since the moment you broke up, you shut your eyes as soon as he sucked on the skin of your neck, you lost all rational thought as he touched you, amazed that he could still do this to you after years of being apart from one another.

“Jimin.” You whined pushing him away as you came back to earth, rational thoughts flooding back in and all of the pain he caused last time, rushing back to you.

“Y/N…I know what I did in the past was stupid…but If two people are meant to be together eventually they’ll find their way back.” You looked at the floor.

“We should take it slow…I don’t want to do this while you’re still married…I’ll wait until the divorce is done…” He nodded understandingly and took your hand in his.

“I’m never going anywhere again…I promise.”

Taehyung:

You hated him, you hated him with every fibre of your being for springing that on you, in the middle of a wedding…You were married, you had a husband and a son, you were happily married - alright well you were married. That wedding was a week ago and you couldn’t get the words he’d said to you out of your brain, the touch of his skin on yours, the way he looked at you as he admitted he loved you too, after all of those years, the way all of your feelings came back to you with one single glance. You hated him, you hated that he was making you feel this way all over again,

“You okay?” Your husband asked trying to hug you but you flinched away from his touch, you nodded.

“Can’t sleep.” You lied getting up and out of the bed, ignoring his protests for you to stay with him, you took your coat down from the coat rack and headed out of the front door, a small walk around your neighbourhood was bound to clear your head, help you sleep for a while since you were averaging on three hours a night, plus an hour in the day.

(x)

Your legs took your there before you knew it, you were standing outside the house you knew all too well, Taehyung was probably asleep in bed, which is what you should be doing but instead, you’re walking around like a lost puppy trying to figure out your mind, before you even realised what you were doing you were ringing the doorbell to his house, he opened it almost instantly, frowning to see you standing there in nothing but a nightgown and coat.

“YOU!” You yelled pushing him inside and poking his chest, tears were rolling down your cheeks.

“You couldn’t leave me alone could you, you had to bring back all those feelings…You had to make it all come back.” You croaked out, he was standing back against the wall now, watching as you cried out to him.

“Y/N, It’s midnight what are you doing? Where’s Y/H/N?” You shook your head at him, scoffing as he rambled on about how you shouldn’t be out alone at night alone.

“Why do you care so much about what I do? Huh?! Because you "love” me?“ You questioned looking at him, he looked at the floor and you sobbed.

"I loved him Tae…I was starting to move past those feelings for you and then-” You couldn’t finish the sentence, you just shook your head at yourself for being so stupid.

“I love you - I’m in love with you I have tied to kill it, run away from it but I can’t and I don’t want to anymore…” You managed to whisper out, looking at him, your tears stopped rolling and you made eye contact with him.

“I don’t want to run anymore,” You whispered again, dropping to your knees in front of him, he dropped down next to you and cradled you in his arms, rubbing the small of your back as you gave up fighting.

“We’ll…We’ll figure this out.” He promised, kissing the top of your head, you felt defeated but at the same time, it felt good to be in the love of your life arms again, having him hold you and promise it was going to be alright.

“What about Y/H/N?” You whispered, remembering your life back home, you did have a husband and child to think of, throwing it all away for someone who left before was dangerous.

“We’re all adults…we can talk to him about it, he might not be happy but…you can talk like adults…No more running away from feelings.” He promised, you relaxed against his embrace and nodded, not wanting to think about it right now, wanting to just lay in his arms for a few moments longer.

Jungkook:

You hadn’t seen your husband Jungkook in two weeks, you assumed he’d run off back to the girl he’d been cheating on you with, you, on the other hand, were a wreck. You were spending all your time in a hotel room alone, crying yourself to sleep every night, changing hotels every two days in case he was actually trying to find you and found the one you were staying at, but you were smart, you were using only cash to check-in and out of the places so he couldn’t track your card payments.

“Thanks, Miss Y/L/N we’ll see you soon.” The woman at the front desk said as you checked out of the hotel that night, you were switching to another one that Namjoon had found for you, you’d been talking to him for the last two weeks, the only person you could really talk to about what was going on in your love life right now, he was trying to make sure you were comfortable.

“You could just talk to him.” He said as you showed up at his house the night you and Jungkook split up, you sat on the sofa and stared at the floor, tears still in your eyes.

“He cheated Joonie…there’s no coming back from that.” Namjoon huffed sitting beside you, he never wanted to believe his friend could do something so cruel to someone he loved.

“Are you sure though?” He questioned, you nodded trying not to think about the underwear sets you’d found, the used condoms in the bedroom and photographs on his phone.

“I’ll get up in a hotel room…I’ll start getting my life together and file for a divorce.” You said before falling asleep on his sofa that night.

“Y/N?” You heard a voice you knew all too well question, you turned around on your heel to see Jungkook sitting in the new hotel room Namjoon had booked for you.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, looking at your suitcase, you looked back out of the door to see Namjoon standing in front of it and blocking you from leaving.

“What are you doing here?” You shot back, he looked shocked to see you standing there so you assumed he had no idea what was going on either.

“Namjoon said we had to stay here before practice tomorrow…booked the room for me and him.” You nodded looking at the ground, not wanting to look at him because every time you did your heart would shatter.

“I…I’m here because I was stupid enough to trust Namjoon.” You scoffed shaking your head, Jungkook got up from the bed and came over to you.

“What are you doing?” He stayed silent and just hugged you tightly, his arms wrapping around you and his neck snuggling into your neck, you stayed still, you’re were stiff and didn’t know what to do with yourself, except cry. You began to sob as he held you in his arms.

(x)

You were laid on the bed together, he was spooning you, one of his arms wrapped around you while the other played with your hair, you’d been laid like this for an hour, neither of you talking much, just holding one another as you cried and he whispered nothing but. “I’m sorry.” Over and over again.

“I am so sorry for the pain I have caused you and I know I can’t take it back but I wanna try and make it up to you…even if it takes the rest of my life.” You bit down on your lip hard, you wanted nothing more than to be able to forgive him for everything instantly and be with him but it was hard.

“I don’t think I can…I can forgive you so easily Jungkook.” You whimpered turning over and laying against his chest.

“I love you…but you just…you threw it all away.” He shook his head, holding you closer.

“I promise you, it meant nothing. She meant nothing to be I was being stupid, acting as though I didn’t have everything I would ever need…you’re my everything, you will always be my everything.” Your heart fluttered at the words he was speaking, you closed your eyes as you listened to his heart beating.

“I will make it up to you, I will make you trust me, I promise.” He whispered to you again, you just silently looked up into his eyes and left a small kiss on his lips.

424 notes · View notes

lokisgame · 6 years

Text

Uncommon Cold

Around 9:30 am and three unanswered phone calls on her landline and cell, Mulder began to worry. He came in later than usual, blaming the alarm clock failing and his cellphone’s dead battery, rushing to work without even glancing at his machine. He thought Scully would be here already. It wasn't like her to be late, even if all they had planed for the day was paperwork. By 10:15 he was rushing through the parking garage, dialing Skinner's office to notify his boss he was taking a personal day.

Driving through town he forced himself to stay calm, scanning both lanes for any approaching sirens, police or ambulance, some sign of a car accident, but the streets were calm that day, nothing but the usual Monday morning traffic. Her car was parked in her usual spot as he crossed the street. No one answered the door. It didn't feel like something bad had happened but a sudden thought of walking in on her, while she's with someone lit up all the dark corners of his mind. Mulder swallowed hard, where did that thought come from, did he just feel a cold gust of wind brush pass him? It was ridiculous, he fished out his keys, found hers among his own with the familiarity of using it for the past six yeas, and for better or worse, let himself in.

By Scully standards, the living room was a mess. Her quilt laid abandoned in a heap on the sofa, half empty mugs surrounded by piles of crumpled tissues littered the coffee table. The kitchen sink full of weekend's worth of dishes explained a lot of things and calmed him considerably. A low cough sounded from the direction of her bedroom, the door slightly open. "Scully?" He pushed the door slowly and found her curled up in bed, pale as a sheet, hair damp with sweat. "Mulder" another weak cough "what are you doing here" "What do you think I'm doing" he crossed the room and crouched beside the bed, hand automatically resting on her forehead "you're running a fever" he tucked the bedding closer around her. "Yes, doctor, that is correct" she moved to get up and he helped her, pulling the sheet back around her, his hands running on different protocol than his brain at the moment. "Let me go, I need the bathroom" She reached for her bathrobe, but he beat her to it as well, draping it over her shoulders. She swayed a bit as she walked away but he didn't follow. Instead looked around the room, straightened the sheets, fixed the pillows and picked up a few tissues that didn't reach the trash. He brought a glass of water from the kitchen, leaving it on her bedside table with some Tylenol just in case. She came back and climbed into bed, pulling the comforter up to her chin. "Why aren't you at the office?" She asked as he sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her glassy eyes and chapped lips. "You didn't come in and didn't answer your phone" her cough interrupted him "I got worried" "It's just a cold, Mulder" she sipped some water and grimaced as it hit her undoubtedly sore throat "you can go back to the office, I'll be fine" "Scully, you're too sick to stay upright and I know your mom's out of town" he spoke softly, almost pleading, doing his best not to make her dig in her heels in pride and independence "so unless you tell me there's a boyfriend I don't know about whom you can call right now to drop everything and come take care of you, I'm staying." "Fine." Her lack of protest took him by surprise and all he could do was smile. "Try to get some sleep, call me if you need anything, I'll be in the next room" "Okay" she gave up and laid down, letting him tuck her in.

She hated hovering so he left her in peace, leaving the door open a little and went to the kitchen, to make himself some coffee and plug in his cellphone before the damned thing died a second time this morning. He smiled looking around, Scully was human, and like most humans when sick, all cleaning habits took a back seat. He turned on the tv, the volume turned low to a background hum, hung up his suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves and went about straightening the place, picking up mugs, tissues and plates. He took care of the kitchen as well, did the dishes, dried and put them away, swiped the counters, just like she did every time he stayed for dinner. All these chores, felt much more natural when he did them for her. He could easily picture himself doing this every day. Being almost forty and fending for himself most of his life, he wasn't as inept at it as she might think. His biggest problem was that doing it for himself didn't feel as urgent or necessary as it would be for someone else. For her, he did feel like trying and after all this was her place, he was used to it looking a certain way. Around 1pm he looked in on her and finding she was still fast asleep, decided to make a quick trip to the store to pick up lunch and some groceries.

He never thought himself capable of feeling so close to anyone. The line between them was really a circle, co-workers, partners, friends. The circles closed around them, smaller with each year, surrounding them instead of dividing. Each one more comfortable than the last. He realized that "home's where your heart is" and all those other clichés, rang true only when the feeling was there. He went... home, and today home was where she was. He took the gym bag from his car, glad he packed it this morning. Ready to stay the night on the couch if things went south.

"Scully, wake up" a soft voice and cool touch on her forehead pulled her out of fitful sleep "You need to eat something." "Don't want to." She mumbled, his hand felt cold and she was starting to shiver. "Please, just some soup, so you can take your pills. Your fever is spiking" she couldn't argue with that. "Okay" she pushed back the covers a little, forcing herself to sit up, shivering as seemingly cold air hit her damp skin. He pulled up a pillow behind her back and handed her a mug. The soup was hot but not throat burning as she sipped at it slowly, and although she lost taste completely, the warmth made her nose run and in turn made it easier to breath. She sniffed and he passed her a tissue, exchanging it for the cup for a minute. Red colored the thin paper and his eyes went wide with panic. "Relax Mulder" though her voice was thick and tired, she made an effort to reassure him "three days of blowing your nose may result in bursting capillaries" "I know" he tried for unconcerned as he handed her the soup back but she shook her head 'no'. The fear was there, inside him, irrational because she saw the doctor last week and was declared cancer-free. A trigger was a trigger and it took a minute to fight it back. He handed her two pills and a glass of water. "Are you feeling nauseous?" Another head shake "Just cold and weak" she said as she slipped back under the covers "what time is it?" "Half past 6, you slept through the day" he moved to the floor next to her, tucking her back in by virtue of long arms reaching easily behind her back. Scully closed her eyes and pressed her face into the cool side of her pillow "My head hurts" "Hold on, I’ll be right back" Mulder got up and came back with a wet hand towel and a bowl of water. He folded himself back on the floor and placed the wet cloth over her forehead. The cool compress eased some of the tension gathering in her temples, and somehow, as he smoothed her hair away, his gentle touch made her feel a bit better. She knew she'd be too tired to this for herself if he wasn't here. "Better?" the smile was in his voice as she nodded against his hand. "Mulder, you really don't have to stay" she said, even as she was starting to shiver inside again. Somewhere in the back of her mind she felt embarrassed he saw her like this, but surrendered when he gently wiped her face before wetting the towel again in cool water. This was Mulder, he never judged her, not really. "Save your breath Scully" the washcloth returned to her forehead with his hand "I'm not going anywhere" She felt too weak to fight him, so she just reached one hand from under the covers, palm up. He took it, letting her pull his hand under the sheet, hugging it in silent thank you. "Try to sleep" he kept stroking her head, slow and gentle. "Talk to me" her eyes closed. Changing the wet compress from time to time, sitting next to her bed on the floor of her bedroom, Mulder talked until he too dozed off.

She felt better the next morning. Not as dizzy and congested. She drank the glass of water he left for her, got up and went to the bathroom. Mulder was up and in the kitchen making breakfast. "Hi, how are you feeling?" He asked by way of greeting. "Better, thank you" she managed a soft smile. "Toast and tea?" "Yes, please" She found fresh pj's in the bathroom and brushed her teeth sitting on the edge of the bathtub, still weak but instantly more human once finished. Joining him in the kitchen, breakfast ready and waiting, they ate in companionable silence. The radio played in the background, a newspaper folded on the sports section between them. She looked up at him as he scanned through it and it struck her. What a guy thing to do it was, a man was staying at her apartment and, oddly enough, she didn’t mind, liked it actually. Mulder finished his toast and looked up, meeting her eyes with a smile. "You're staring at me, c'mere" he chuckled and leaned over the table reaching to press his hand first to her forehead then the back of his fingers to the side of her neck. "You're no longer burning up" he declared finally. "Yeah" she wanted to point out, that she had a perfectly good thermometer in the medicine cabinet, but resisted it. Instead she got up and took the tea with her to the bedroom. "I changed your sheets" he called after her, returning to his reading.

Chicken noodle soup, half a sandwich and a nap after lunch, seemed to work wonders for her and by late afternoon, she was ready to get up, feeling almost like herself again. Mulder was still there. Sprawled on her sofa wearing jeans and a t-shirt, he must have made a trip home at some point when she slept. "Hey" he saw her wrapped in a comforter from her bed and immediately made room "Welcome back to the land of the living room, Scully" She picked up a pillow, propped it against his thigh and laid down, curled up under the blanket. He was watching some documentary about tropical reefs with the sound turned low and the screen looked like a big blue saltwater aquarium, teeming with coral and colorful fish. She watched the fish, he watched her, hand resting around her feeling as natural as if they did that a million times. "Scully" Mulder spoke quietly into the blueish darkness of the room "I've got your message"

#hurt/comfort #sick fic #msr fanfic #x files fanfic #originally posted on AO3

72 notes · View notes

wittystiles · 6 years

Text

The Agreement || Part Three || Stiles Stilinski

Author: wittystiles

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: Stiles goes to surprise reader at work, and the two end up getting a surprise of a different kind.

Warnings: Cursing (its me afterall). Fluff. So much fluff. Sass (again, it’s me).

A/N: Once and again, I have to give thank you credit to my wonderful wifey @ellie-bee242 for helping me with this part. I don’t think I can write anything at this point without her by my side (metaphorically) egging me on. She’s my muse (sort of. God, who do I think I am?). Anyway. This parts disgustingly cute and I hope you enjoy.

Patients were steadily coming in and out of the ER, staff being kept on their toes as they worked to keep everyone happy and keep things moving. (Y/N), however, was falling short. She’d been sick for days, which she chalked up to catching the stomach flu from a patient that she’d been helping around the time she got sick. She was luckily not running a fever as she sat in a chair behind the desk of the nurses station, chewing on a saltine.

Melissa rounded the desk, giving her a soft smile. “Hey, sweetie. How’re you feeling?” Melissa asked, looking (Y/N) over. (Y/N) shrugged her shoulder, setting the cracker back down in the plastic saltine sleeve.

“I’m feeling alright,” she sat forward and made a face. “Scratch that, I lied. I feel like every time I move I’m going to shoot chunks.”

Melissa nodded, “go home.” She picked up (Y/N)’s sleeve of crackers, shoving it into her hand. “Go home, drink lots of fluids, and rest. I don’t want to see your butt back here until you’re feeling better. It’d be your luck, you’d get sick suddenly, and puke on a patient.”

(Y/N) widened her eyes, “Melissa! I would never.” She stood from her chair slowly and rubbed her forehead. “It’s just a little stomach flu. I’m fine.” “Yeah, but it’s lasted a good long while. I don’t think that’s what it is anymore, (Y/N). Maybe something you’re eating is messing with you. Do you have something every day?”

(Y/N) thought for a moment, shaking her head. “Just coffee? Though, I have had that every day for years. It wouldn’t just start to affect me now.” Melissa nodded, furrowing her brows. “What else is wrong?”

“Just the vomiting, really. And God, even when I drink my weight in coffee, I’m still exhausted. I’ve contemplated taking a shot of adrenaline and just, suffering.”

Melissa gave (Y/N) a shrug, taking her arm while the two walked away from the nurses station towards the nurses locker room. “Could the fatigue be part of your PMS? I know you always get worn down easily when you’re about to drop.”

(Y/N) stopped abruptly, eyes widening. “Oh, fuck.”

“What?” Melissa asked with evident concern in her voice. “Do you need a bucket?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “No, I just.. Felt like I was going to, it’s passed. I can get the rest of the way there on my own, Melissa. Thank you for your concern. I’m off tomorrow, right?”

Melissa nodded.

“Perfect, I’ll see you the day after then, hopefully feeling as good as new. And, you know what? Maybe it’s this stupid new popfetti popcorn I’ve been addicted to that’s doing it? It’s probably too sweet for me, and it’s upsetting my stomach and causing me to be sluggish.”

Melissa chuckled, “maybe. I’d stop eating it anyway, sounds like it’s terrible.” (Y/N) shrugged, giving Melissa a small smile before hurrying into the locker room. She took her stethoscope off of her neck, flinging it into her locker the moment she got it open. She was starting to get panicked, her mind running faster than she wanted.

Calm down! (Y/N) ordered herself as she pulled her scrub shirt off over her head. She took a few deep breathes, “don’t get yourself worked up over this. It could just be a bunch of weird coincidences. Don’t go getting your hopes up, (Y/N). You’ve got to make sure.”

“Make sure of what?” Stiles asked from behind her. (Y/N) whirled around to face him, clutching her chest in fright.

“Jesus Christ, Stiles! What the fuck are you doing in here? This is the female nurses locker room.” She waved her hand around, indicating the locker room. “Seeing as how you’re not a chick, and you’re not a nurse, you shouldn’t be in here.” She looked down, huffing. “Or at least turn around, I’m not wearing a shirt!” She reached into her locker to grab her regular shirt, holding it against her.

“Oh, would you relax?” Stiles asked, taking a seat on the bench between the lockers. “There’s no one else in here, and I’ve seen you naked before. Should we recount two days ago?” He wriggled his eyebrows at her and she slapped him in the face with her shirt.

“Why are you here, Stiles?”

“I was going to bring you soup for your stomach. You said you weren’t feeling well yesterday, figured you still weren’t.”

“I hate soup.” (Y/N) sighed.

“That’s why I said I was going to. Instead I settled on lightly buttered toast, and ramen noodles, cause it’s soup like. Salty as hell, but. I figured you’d be okay with that.”

(Y/N) pulled her shirt on over her head, kicking her work shoes off. “You did not have to do that, Stiles. That was really sweet of you, thank you”

Stiles gave her his signature smug smile, “you’re welcome. Gotta take care of my future baby mama, don’t I?”

“And you ruined it. You’re excellent at that you know? Ruining a sweet moment by opening your stupid mouth. You should write a book, ‘how to kill the mood in 10 words or less’ by Stiles Stilinski.”

“Ouch,” Stiles said, standing up from his seat on the bench. “You can starve now, (Y/N). Last time I try being nice to you.” He began slowly walking back to the door, intending on leaving the locker room.

Smiling, (Y/N) shrugged her shoulders. “Fine by me. I wasn’t gonna eat your gross, probably soggy ramen anyway.”

Stiles scoffed, turning around to look at (Y/N) as she was shimmying her scrub pants off. He took a deep inhale, watching her for a second before his brain caught up. “First of all, (Y/N), my ramen is not anywhere close to soggy. I know how to make it, we’ve had enough fights where you took over cooking them for me to know how you like it. Secondly, you weren’t calling my mouth stupid when it was between your thighs.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to snap a comeback at him, instead going wide eyed, spinning on her heels to the large wash bin sink beside her locker. She gripped the edge, leaned over, and released the contents of her stomach, her throat feeling raw when she was done.

Stiles had quickly crossed the room to hold her hair back as she retched into the sink, his free hand rubbing small circles into her lower back. (Y/N) stayed hunched over the sink for a moment, making sure that she was done for the time being, before standing. Stiles released her hair and reached into her locker, grabbing her water bottle.

“I didn’t know that me talking about eating you out was gonna make you that sick, I’m sorry.” He said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck while looking down at his feet.

(Y/N) snorted a laugh, shaking her head at him, taking a few small sips from her water bottle. “It wasn’t your comment, Stiles. You doing that was wonderful, and I’m pleased to know we have a use for your stupid mouth. The puking was all me. I’ve been sick, remember? Welcome to what I’ve been dealing with for days.”

“You seem… fine now? You just look a little sweaty if anything, and like you’re about to pass out.”

(Y/N) shrugged, “thanks?”

Stiles gave her a soft smile, turning the water on to wash the sink out, not wanting the smell to make her sick all over again. “So, you think I’m wonderful, huh?”

(Y/N), having realized her mistake, shook her head adamantly. “No, you’re not. I was just trying to be nice since you had to witness me puking.” She pulled her leggings on before reaching into her locker, quickly finding her toiletries bag. She dug around in it before she found her toothbrush and toothpaste. She wet her toothbrush at the sink and began brushing her teeth, leaning her hip against the sink.

“Why do you think you’re sick? Should I head out and get you something after I get you home? An anti-nausea medicine or something?”

(Y/N) shook her head, spitting into the sink. She rinsed her mouth and toothbrush before shutting the water off. “No, I don’t think that this is anything that simple medicine could fix.”

“Oh?” Stiles took her purse from the locker before moving out of the way for her to shut it, letting her slip her feet into a pair of flip flops before offering her purse out to her. “What do you think it is?” He asked, figuring she’d self diagnosed again like usual.

“I think we’ll talk about it on the way back to my place.” (Y/N) pulled her purse onto her shoulder walking out of the locker room, knowing Stiles would automatically follow her.

(Y/N) walked out of the bathroom in her apartment, wiping at the corners of her mouth with the sleeve of the hoodie she wore. “Would you please not use my jacket as a puke napkin?” Stiles asked, looking over at her. “Feeling okay? You haven’t puked in a bit, I was almost sure you were better.”

(Y/N) ignored him, walking for the front door, slipping her feet back into the flipflops she’d kicked off when she’d gotten home. She grabbed her keys off of the hook beside the door. “You coming?” She asked, holding the door open. Stiles scrambled off of the couch, hurrying for the front door. He went to hook his arm around her shoulders after she locked the door, a bit taken back when she began speed walking for the stairs down.

“Alright,” Stiles said, hurrying after her. He took the stairs two at a time, keeping his hand on the railing to make sure he doesn’t fall. “Is there something in particular that’s lit this fire under your ass, (Y/N)?”

Continuing to ignore him, she reached the first floor, heading straight for the door to leave the apartment building. She threw it open, taking a right when she walked out, hurrying down the sidewalk.

“(Y/N)!” Stiles called, following after her. “Would you mind slowing down? You know for someone who was just throwing up, I would expect you to not move as quickly.” (Y/N) reached the Walgreens walking in as soon as the automatic door allowed her to. Stiles walked in after her, managing to keep easy pace with her now that she slowed down. “(Y/N)! Would you please tell me what the fuck is going on?”

She stopped abruptly in an aisle and he had to keep himself from crashing against her. “You know I hate being ignored, (Y/N). This is honestly about to drive me insane. Would you please ju-”

(Y/N) reached up and grabbed his jaw in her hand, turning his head to look at the shelves in front of them. “Oh.” He nodded, feeling her release his jaw. He looked over the boxes for a moment before actually processing why they were there. “OH!” He shouted, looking over at her. “(Y/N)! You think that-... That you-...”

She nodded, giving him an angry look. “Yes, now would you shut the fuck up? Jesus, you’re being loud right now.”

Stiles grumbled, “sounds like what I have to say to you at night.”

She elbowed him in the ribs, returning her attention to the selection of pregnancy tests. She took her time reading them over, deciding on three different brands. “Is that all?” Stiles asked, looking at the three boxes that (Y/N) had shoved into his arms. “Might as well grab a fourth, why do an uneven number?” He asked, looking up at her.

(Y/N) looked less than amused, “does it matter how many I take, Stiles? Really?”

He shook his head, deciding to keep his mouth shut and just follow her to the register. He set the boxes on the counter, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. “Do you want anything else while we’re here because I don’t think we’ll be leaving again tonight. Maybe more crackers?”

(Y/N) shook her head, “no.” She took the bag from the woman and walked out as soon as Stiles had paid. The two made their way back to (Y/N)’s apartment without speaking to each other, the bag in (Y/N)’s hand felt particularly heavy.

Stiles’ mind was racing at a million miles per minute. He knew that if those little sticks in those unassuming boxes came back positive, his life would be instantaneously changed. He’d go from just being Stiles Stilinski, the exceptional FBI profiler, to Stiles Stilinski the soon-to-be father.

He began thinking about how he would be connected to (Y/N) forever after this, how she was forever going to go from just being his best friend to being the mother of his child. He concerned himself with if he would be a good father, if the two of them were making a huge mistake. If (Y/N) would back out, if she would realize that this idea was absolutely insane, if she would want an abortion. He wouldn’t fight her on that, it was her body that would be carrying their child after all, but -

Stiles snapped out of his thoughts when she cursed loudly, fiddling with the keys in her hand. Stiles took her hand in his, giving her a reassuring smile before finding her house key, unlocking her front door. He could practically see the anxiety rolling off of her in waves. The two entered the apartment, and she rushed straight for the bathroom. “Puking?” Stiles called out, ready to offer to hold her hair or get her a glass of water.

She shook her head, not bothering to respond as she slammed the door behind her. Stiles nodded, biting on his lips. “Right.” He took a seat on the couch, resting his elbows on his thighs and his chin on his hand, his knees bouncing nervously. He looked back at the bathroom and felt his stomach do a flip, considering if maybe he was going to be sick instead of (Y/N).

The bathroom door opened and Stiles shot to his feet, feeling like he suddenly couldn’t breathe. He took a few shallow breaths, giving her his attention. “So,” Stiles prompted, gripping his fist with his other hand. “What did they say?”

She held up her phone, “they said wait five minutes for the piss to marinate or something so. We’ll find out in roughly four minutes.”

Stiles nodded, a lump in his throat big enough to choke him. The two sat together on the couch, neither speaking, staring straight ahead at the black television screen. When (Y/N)’s phone went off the pair shot to their feet, eyes wide and hearts pounding. “I guess that’s my cue..” (Y/N) indicated towards the bathroom with her thumb, clearing her throat. “I’ll be right back.”

Stiles nodded, not wanting to speak at this point. (Y/N) bit on her lips, walking off to the bathroom. Stiles began pacing around her living room, his heart pounding in his ears. He clenched his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. He’d been through so much, more than any twenty something should ever have witnessed. But this. The anticipation of finding out if (Y/N) was pregnant or not. This might have been the scariest thing he’d ever experienced.

He stopped pacing the second he heard the bathroom door open, watching (Y/N) walk out with her head hung low. His heart dropped to his knees, he felt like it stopped. “(Y/N)…” He whispered, quickly making his way over to her.

(Y/N) wound her arms around his ribs, resting her head against his chest. He could feel a spot of wetness bloom against his chest where her cheek rest. He wrapped his arms around her, beginning to rub her back gently. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against her hair, resting his cheek on the top of her head. “Please, stop crying. I - I don’t know what to say. Fuck, I’m sorry. We don’t have to keep trying. I don’t want you having to go through this again.” Stiles assured her, assuming that the test had come back negative.

(Y/N) kept her cheek pressed against his chest, unable to speak yet, tears still pouring down her cheeks.

“You’re gonna be okay, (Y/N).” Stiles said as way of reassurance. “I know that you wanted this, or, fuck I hope you wanted to be pregnant because if not that would have just been a lot of trying without you mentioning it wasn’t what you wanted. However, it’s okay. So it didn’t happen. It’s cool, it’s fine. We could I dunno, we could keep trying, it’s not like it isn’t fun. Or, I know you’re not a fan but… Doctors really do know a lot, you know? And I mean. Yeah it’s a turkey baster, but it’s got better chances doesn’t it? I’m sure there’s more of an assuran-” He stopped talking, taking a seat on the couch, feeling like he was about to have a panic attack. His heart was back to pounding. He didn’t realize how badly he had actually wanted this baby. How much he had actually thought about it. How badly he wanted to raise his own child, watch it grow. And he thought, God, he thought he was so fucking close. He could practically see his son or daughter staring up at him. Now, that future. That image he had of his happy family was wiped away from him. In the matter of four, eternally long minutes.

(Y/N) looked down at him in confusion, “Stiles…” She held out a test, waiting for him to take it before wrapping her arms around herself. Stiles took a deep breath, turning the stick over to look at the little window, preparing himself mentally for the new wave of disappointment.

One pink line, standing boldly out against the white background.

And another.

He looked from the lines up to (Y/N) before looking back at them, trying to make sure he had interpreted them right. “(Y/N),” he held the test up a bit. “(Y/N), please. I’m begging you. Please tell me this is what I think it is. Please tell me this is positive. God, please let this be positive.”

(Y/N) nodded, biting on her lips to keep from beaming too bright of a smile, “that one and the two others on the counter in the bathroom.”

Stiles felt his eyes well, sitting up on the couch to be able to reach out and grab her, pulling her against him, pressing his face against her stomach. Stiles let out a breathy laugh, kissing her stomach softly, his fingers splayed on her back, holding her as close to him as he could. “I can’t - I don’t -.” He closed his mouth, words failing him. (Y/N) began combing her fingers through his hair, letting him hold her to him. In that moment, (Y/N) realized there wasn’t anyone else she’d rather share this with. Stiles pressed another kiss to her stomach, and she felt a wider smile spread across her lips.

“God, you’re actually pregnant.” Stiles said, but it felt more like a question. “God, you’re pregnant. We did it.. Thank you.” He stood then, and (Y/N) felt what she figured was her heart skipping a beat when she saw the smile on Stiles’ face. In all of the years she had known him, she had never seen him look happier.

“I am.” She assured him, returning his smile.

“I just -, I…” Stiles reached out, cupping (Y/N)’s cheeks in his hands, pulling her into a kiss. (Y/N) hesitated for a moment before reaching up, winding her arms around Stiles’ neck, pressing her body against his. He moved his hands from her cheeks to her hips, gripping them tight before his hands moved to her back, pressing her tighter against him.

(Y/N) broke the kiss for a breath, leaning back a little to look at him. “Thank you, Stiles.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Thank you, (Y/N). For being my best friend, for accepting this crazy agreement, and for not backing out.”

(Y/N) smiled, “we’re in this for the long haul, punk.”

Stiles returned her smile warmly, “so. You’re happy, with this? With being pregnant? It’s not too late, you know…”

(Y/N) let go of Stiles, shaking her head. “Stiles, I’ve never wanted anything more than I want this baby with you. I’m in if you’re in. Forever.”

Stiles held his pinky out to her, “forever.”

She looked at his pinky, rolling her eyes a little. “Stiles, come on. We’re not kids anymore. I’m carrying one, but that doesn’t mean I’ve regressed to being fifteen. We don’t make pinky promises anymore.” Stiles nearly pouted, keeping his pinky up. “Come on, (Y/N). What’s it going to hurt? You used to do them all of the time with me in high school, and neither of us have broken one since. Might as well make another one regarding our baby.”

(Y/N) sighed, deciding to acquiesce.

The two locked pinkies, each kissing their thumbs to seal the promise.

Tags: @ellie-bee242, @redstringlovers, @lovefilledtragedy, @behind-my-hazeleyes27, @cuillere, @sumcp, @daddyxraeken

If you’d like to be tagged please let me know. (-:

#sam writes #the agreement #this shit is the fluffiest thing i have ever written i think lmao cancel me #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski fan fic #stiles stilinski fanfic #stiles stilinski one shot #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski oneshot #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien fanfic #dylan o'brien imagine #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf one shot #Teen Wolf oneshot #sam overtags something

178 notes · View notes

hencethebravery · 7 years

Text

This is my first time writing any of these characters, so please bear with me. Batten down the hatches, etc. etc. This takes place after The Defenders but before the new Punisher series. Basically a Karen Page character study with some Kastle because I love their dumb butts. Warning for swears and canon-typical violence.

+ There's something about women and vengeance. Some unknown, yet to be written variable that will never see the light of day. Maybe there’s even a list of women on a document somewhere; each one followed by another name with no substance in between. She’s not sure she’ll ever publish it—it’d have to be an op-ed or something. It’s not really newsworthy, but it does feel relevant somehow.

“How is it that you require a dick to acceptably lose your damn mind?”

Josie’s is always packed when it rains, full of patrons in untenable living situations not made for those weeks in fall when it never fucking ends. It’s been uncomfortably damp for about 3 straight days and she’s already ruined some of her nicer shoes.

“Unfortunately,” Trish answers sagely, gulping down a substantial amount of bourbon, “a dick is required for most things.”

There’s a vengeance narrative running through this city that Karen can’t quite get a line on. These men running around in armor waging war for all of these “legitimate” reasons and she’s just sitting here with this fire burning a goddamn hole in her chest.

Jessica drops a pitcher in the middle of the table and grins. “Hey now, I’ve lost it plenty.”

“And it’s not the ‘dicks’ so much as it is the patriarchal bullshit.”

“That’s right,” Jessica answers with a nod to Claire, “no two dicks are alike.”

Karen mumbles against the lip of her shot glass, the smell of the tequila tickling the fine hairs of her nose. Can already taste it at the back of her throat. There’s lots of laughter and jokes about cocks and how nice Rogers’ butt looks in those pants and somewhere around 3 AM she turns in for the night. Or out. Roaming the dark, wet streets of Hell’s Kitchen trying to put the fire out.

He quells and kindles the flame in her belly in a really unsettling way. It’s hard to explain to anybody, so she doesn’t really try to—just stares at her laptop and all those names and thinks about vengeance.

And who is she trying to fool anyway?

“It’s not like I’m even gonna write the damn thing.”

He’s half-asleep, the tip of his nose so close to the surface of his coffee she’s afraid he might burn himself.

“Hey,” she says again, tugging lightly at his shoulder, “you planning on drinking that?”

He grunts and sips at it, the captivating spectrum of blues and purples shuffling around on the planes of his face. It’s like he can’t help but look like spilled gasoline all over blacktop. There’s also this vague left behind-ness of sweat and pus and in the end it just looks like oil swirling around in dirty rain water.

She goes for an ice pack in the freezer; started to buy those soft, fabric-covered packs because she kept noticing that small flinch underneath his eye whenever she had used the hard ones against his warm, swollen face.

“Well?” she asks again, hoping he’s perked up a bit in the last 30 seconds, “No comment?”

“You wanna write about justice.”

“Vengeance.”

“Same thing, ain’t it?”

She’s not quite sure it’s the same thing, but she’s been struggling to articulate why. Frank Castle would absolutely say that vengeance and justice are one in the same, and maybe they are a little bit, but there’s something a little more satisfying in executing vengeance isn’t there? And it’s not just the way the word sounds in your mouth as the “v” passes between your teeth and over your lips.

“I don’t know,” she says slowly, considering the answer. “I used to think so.”

“But you don’t anymore.”

“I don’t think so,” sick to death of not actually knowing anything, and just thinking that she does, “no.” Nodding, a charming definitiveness to the bounce of her hair. “No, not anymore.”

Sometimes she imagines James Wesley in handcuffs and it’s not nearly as satisfying as the memory of his chest riddled with bullet holes. She never told Matt, and Foggy has no idea. Trish doesn’t know, or Jessica, or Claire. But he knows. The Punisher knows.

“I guess I’d just like to know if I make the cut,” she inquires one evening over cheap as hell vodka straight from a plastic jug.

“You’re fucked up, Page,” he answers on a grin, casually sliding a glass of water across the table. “Also no, your ass never gonna make it.”

“I wish you’d be a bit more consistent sometimes.”

“Yeah, well,” sniffing, grunting, “wishes are a funny thing.”

She wants to ask a question but she’s afraid of the answer. Wants to know what would happen if she were to admit it—that there was an absolute righteousness to it. A vengeful quality to the way her finger wrapped around the trigger, absolutely certain of her decision to squeeze. Would he be so forgiving then?

“I got no answer for you, ma’am. If only this shit were simpler, right?”

Apparently too drunk to know she’s asked a question instead of simply thinking it, slightly mortified but also frustrated at this vague, lacking answer that won’t cure her writer’s block or make her feel any better about this unnerving heat in her bloodstream.

At some point he must’ve walked her to bed, tucked her in. She wakes up early the next morning still wearing her tights and skirt, top slightly askew but that’s only because she sleeps like she’s been in a fight. When she looks to her right there’s some water and aspirin on the nightstand. If only this shit were simpler.

There’s a story in the wind about sexual assault statistics in city prisons and she gets blown into a bit of hot water over it. She says “a bit,” when really it’s kind of monsoon levels of hot water and she’s been dreaming of buying a boat or something. Like middle aged men who fantasize about divorcing their wives but they up and buy a freaking boat instead.

She’s managed to cut herself loose this time, all on her own. No Matt or Frank waiting in the wings to set her free. It’s a lucky thing, she could easily slip through the door into that side alley. Run up the street, find a cop. But ya know what else is easy? Slamming a crowbar against the back of this asshole’s head. Which is where the whole vengeance v. justice conundrum comes into play.

Pictures him in handcuffs—sees him in a courtroom, in a jumpsuit, rotting away in a jail cell. Feels the weight of the crowbar in her hands, the way the scrapes against her palms start to stretch and bleed all over it and it’s way more satisfying than the handcuffs and the television reporters. Because he’s run his slimy hands over her chest and through her hair; because he’s admitted to her the heinous shit he’s done to all those women and he doesn’t deserve justice. She wonders if maybe justice is a privilege before she brings it down in a shot against his knees.

She doesn’t kill him, so that rends the entire vengeance and women piece moot.

“Why?” he asks politely, or about as politely as Frank can, taking cartons of Chinese food out of a plastic bag. “What’s changed?”

“Did you bring me Chinese food?” Ignoring the question in favor of admiring The Punisher in all his delivery boy glory, taking down plates and cups and silverware with a disturbingly intimate knowledge of her kitchen cabinets.

“If you don’t take those meds with food, shit won’t end well for you,” he grunts, placing a steaming plate of noodles in front of her. “Eat.”

“Wouldn’t you have preferred I killed him?”

“Maiming works too.”

She snorts, manages to curl a few noodles around her chopsticks. What does the violence got to do with it? This vengeance narrative she’s writing in her head. How does an angry woman define herself in the company of such fine, fine violence?

“Nah, I don’t think it’s about that.”

“Oh, all of a sudden you have an opinion?”

There’s a lot of people out there, a general consensus, even, that Frank Castle isn’t the cleverest of the vigilante set. That he’s all muscle and hardware; that he’s effective, but he isn’t particularly bright. Watching him move his rice and veggies across his plate, the gears in his head turning—the way his voice lowers an octave or two whenever he’s in the same room as her. Doesn’t matter what anyone thinks; there’s a carefulness to the guy, a deliberateness of movement and thought that anyone with half a brain could perceive as intelligence. Hell, he’s out smarted the cops more than enough times.

“Doesn’t need to be about the killin’,” he starts slowly, dropping his chopsticks against his plate, “not for you anyway.”

“He’ll be back, won’t he? Guys like him.”

“Probably,” he answers shortly, “there’s always gonna be guys like him.”

The mere thought of it is exhausting, knowing that no matter what she does, no matter how many knees she shatters or triggers she pulls, there’s always gonna be guys like that.

“Guys like me.”

“Frank—”

“No,” he interrupts, an ironic, painful smirk on his face. “Ain’t nothing to admitting the truth in things.”

It’s about power.

Turns out, it doesn’t really matter whether you’re the one who’s decided that the clock’s run out. It’s the adoption of the thing; the very fact of her decision that pulls the thread through the eye of the vengeance needle. She doesn’t write the article—convinced the whole thing still needs tweaking and she’s not there just yet.

“You planning on getting kidnapped a few more times first?”

“Fucking, ha.”

Figuring out your place in this city is a tricky thing. Surrounded on all sides by people far more powerful than you’ll ever be. It’s hard to really know your strength in a contest like that, everyday being perceived as the weaker thing in that equation. Bat to the knees or bat to the head, there’s still a bat. Her thin, delicate fingers wrapped around the end.

“Just make sure you’re the one who’s holdin’ it.”

#kastle ff #kastle fic #kastle #karen x frank #karen page #frank castle #kastle: shining star #@hencethewriter #this makes zero sense #ya know what i mean #i'm just trying to get a handle #on the ethics of these characters #ok #i don't fucking know #leave me alone

42 notes · View notes

monsterfactoryfanfic · 7 years

Text

Chapter 10: Is this the real life?

“Thus we descended into the fourth chasm,

Gaining still farther on the dolesome shore

Which all the woe of the universe insacks.

Justice of God, ah! who heaps up so many

New toils and sufferings as I beheld?

And why doth our transgression waste us so?”

You know when you’re sick and everything feels terrible? Like, you move slower and you feel weak, and you just want to sleep but can’t? That’s how Pam felt. There were gaps where should couldn’t tell her dreams from facts, but these days the two often mixed. She remembered G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. throwing them into a particularly jarring world jump. She remembered a sky flashing green and red with a cruel wind howling around her. She remembered the Corridor, two badly wounded men helping her limp through a white doorway. She remembered fire and blood and a darkness that blotted out time.

***

G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. removed the back of his hand from Pam’s forehead. Her fever was finally breaking. It was nearing the end of their second day in this new world, and he’d feared being trapped for weeks. However, Pam healed much faster than any organism in Skyrim. If I’ve got 9 lives, she surely has 90. The most pressing issue was the matter of their other companion. The cat strode to another bed where Christopher slept fitfully. While their hosts had been very kind in providing any supplies G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. needed, Chris wasn’t responding to treatment. Though the fight with Trash Hulk ended up being short, it exposed the reality of The Pebble’s strength. He’d cracked a shoulder blade and suffered trauma to the skull that might prove more serious in time. In his own world, he had difficulty competing with human wrestlers. In a multiverse full of monsters and reality-altering evil henchmen, G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. feared he wouldn’t last long in any violent confrontation. He softly placed his paw against Chris’ neck. His pulse was thready but consistent. Better than yesterday. They’d have to be satisfied with gradual improvement. The Pebble unconsciously nuzzled into G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D.’s fur and he let his paw linger a moment more before heading downstairs.

He’d been lucky. When they crossed the Corridor into the next plane, G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D.’s main worry was finding shelter. Inexplicably, shelter found them in the form of the dimension’s ruler. His official function was mayor of second life although he referred to himself as Boy Mayor. Allegedly this stout child built the entire universe called “Second Life.” G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. had trouble believing a contorted copy of Augustus Gloop could shape a world, but cyber-beggars can’t be choosers. At all hours the self-appointed mayor was accompanied by a man named Totinos, a lanky, elastic caricature of humanity who smelled like fresh pizza and wore leggings to match. Not that G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. was judging or anything.

The khajiit found the pair hanging out in the backyard pool. Boy Mayor hovered facedown above the slide like a penguin that suddenly became untethered from gravity and was loving every minute. Totinos was content to ride a large cat through the flower garden. Though he winced at a fellow feline being used in so undignified a matter, G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. sauntered over to Totinos. “Say, does he always just float like that?”

“Not usually,” he responded in a mellow and zesty tone. “But, you know. Campaigning’s really stressful.” They watched silently as the mayor zipped down the slide and plunged into the pool’s depths. His unusually round bottom made him quite buoyant, and the little politician resurfaced with ease.

“Campaigning, you say?”

“Oh yeah, we’ve really been hitting it hard the past few weeks,” Totinos explained. “Duran Duran’s been picking up in the polls, so we had to get boots-on-the-ground in Southern Country. The Mayor’s base of monsters is rock-solid, but he’s been taking a lot of flak from the surprising amount of perverts who want to keep the sex clubs running.” G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. nodded and tried very hard to look interested in a breakdown of the platform, but was a bit worried these people might be absolutely fucking mad. He was spared an argument about over dog suffrage by the Boy Mayor, still trying to towel off a sopping wet tuxedo.

“G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D., good morning!” chimed the exuberant mayor. His voice sounded like a Muppet with its nose pushed inside its face, possibly in a slow, violent fashion. Nonetheless, G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. felt somewhat comforted by this man-child. “How are your friends feeling today? I can whip up some noodles and tea if they’re in the mood?” The questions’ sincerity forced the khajiit to grin.

“They still need a lot of rest. I expect Pam will be up tomorrow morning, but I’m not sure about Christopher,” he confessed, trying not to let fear darken his face. He stiffened his upper lip and changed the topic. “At any rate, can’t say what a pleasure it is to stay at the Mayor’s residence. Truly a magnificent home.”

“Oh no, we’re just renting,” the Mayor said cheerfully. “Jim and Cassie are off to Horse Island for the week, so we swooped in. Sort of an AirBnB thing.” He offered G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. a pool noodle. “Want to take a dip? I just find a cool swim so refreshing.”

“No thanks, I’m a cat.”

The Mayor had already waddled over to Totinos. “Daaaarling?” he shouted at unnecessary volume, “Put some pepperoni rolls in the microwave won’t you?”

Totinos knelt down, cupped the politician’s face and nuzzled a bulbous nose against his head. “Of course. Flavor blasted?”

“Always.”

The tall chef stalked off toward the kitchen. The Mayor sighed loudly before shuffling back to G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D., who now sat in a poolside chair. “Hate to see you go but love to watch you leave, am I right?”

The robot just sort of stared at the sunlight at the bottom of the pool, hoping he would not be pressed about Totinos’ fine arse. The Mayor continued beaming until G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. made another conversation change. “With all due respect Mr. Mayor, how come you have to run for reelection? Aren’t you a god of some sort? Yesterday you claimed to have made all of Second Life.” As soon as he said “reelection” G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. immediately regretted it. The Mayor’s smile continued, but his boyish energy evaporated. Wrinkles and frown lines G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. hadn’t previously noticed seemed to wear into his face, as if watching a stream erode a proud mountain in seconds, quickly etching cracks and ledges into its stone surface leaving it weathered and beaten but no less majestic.

He uttered a small chuckle. “Ha, you’re a sharp one. That’s a fair question, and in my defense, I wasn’t lying.” He pulled up a pool chair and turned it around, facing G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. and resting crossed arms on the chair’s back. “I made Second Life a long time ago. It was really quite fun. I built servers and cities and little zones for everyone with their own individual desires could meet other friends. A sort of escape from the mundanity of the worlds they knew before.” He grinned mischievously. “I even decreed that everyone could fly! Why not?” The whimsy in his voice was heartbreakingly genuine. “But uh…things changed. Maybe it was my fault.” He frowned into the distance, G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D.’s presence forgotten. “Maybe it was what was happening in their first lives that drove them to change. They just… weren’t much fun anymore.” His eyes glazed over. G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. had no desire to disturb the mayor, so the two sat in uncomfortable silence which was mercifully broken by Totinos’ returning with pizza rolls. The chef could tell the conversation had shifted to politics, and tried to lighten the mood by feeding his partner several handfuls of rolls. The gesture was appreciated by all, but as the day wore on, G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. couldn’t shake the guilty feeling that accompanies reminding a good friend about encroaching deadlines.

***

She ran for a long time. She knew she had to keep running or something would find and catch her, so she followed this gravel path drenched in blood. When Pam finally ran out of breath, she collapsed and turned to face her pursuant. She shakily stood to face her enemy, which drew ever closer until Pam could make out the shape of an enormous creature, a snake with nine heads. She charged at the monster, crushing four snarling maws before the other five overtook her. Four remaining heads grappled her limbs while the fifth gazed at her with pity. As the fifth lurched ahead to bite, the head surging to bite was her own.

Pam woke with a start. Her sheets were drenched with sweat, a function she didn’t remember having. The bed was unfamiliar. She racked her brains for an explanation. It seemed likely G.A.R.F.I.E.L.D. pulled them out before they all died. She clenched her fist. Trash Hulk can go fuck self. Her ex sold himself out to Todd in exchange for power never before seen in her universe. Unacceptable. There must be a way to gather the powers of other worlds. Todd might have flushed her out of hiding, but no longer. She would find the strongest warriors of whatever plane they might discover and return when she knew she was ready. Pam gathered her energy and remembered her old strength. I am still Pam.

Christopher coughed loudly in the next bed, shaking Pam from her monologing. She pulled off her blanket and walked over. He looked a lot worse than she’d ever seen before. Pam put the back of her hand to the wrestler’s forehead. Feverish. Within moments Chris ceased shivering and opened his eyes.

“P-Pam?”

“Yes muscle-boy, is me. Let’s go find cat.”

Chris smiled. “Hell yeah.”

#monster factory #fanfic #griffin mcelroy #justin mcelroy #polygon #g.a.r.f.i.e.l.d.#garfield #boy mayor of second life #totinos #the mcelroys

20 notes · View notes

elegiesforshiva · 7 years

Text

Ghosts II: The Lacquered Gnat

Masterpost

Previous | Next

Ichiraku's looks both familiar and foreign to Sasuke. All of Konoha did. Everything is the same but …new.

The paint on buildings is brighter, the structures more modern. There is a lot of reasons why Sasuke had been hesitant to call Konoha his home for what was now the longer part of his life. But this isn't a reason he anticipated. Even Naruto has changed, hair shorter, shoulders broader. His smile as he conversed with the ramen shop owner more gentle. Still, this new Konoha wasn't necessarily alien. It was more like things have just been revamped. Right?

So then where the hell is Sakura?

"Teme!" Naruto's voice is deeper, more rough than he remembers.

"Dobe," Sasuke acknowledges with a nod of his head, and almost grimaces at the montone grain of his voice, dulled with his persistent silence over the years. He takes a seat beside his old teammate on the small wooden stool and a hot bowl of ramen is placed in front of him before he even orders.

"Don't worry, it's on me," Naruto explains with a grin. "It's so good to see you! I like the hair—all dark and mysterious. Bet girls love it too." He nudges Sasuke suggestively, and Sasuke tries not to cringe. Whether it be at the words themselves or the truth they hold, he's not sure yet. "You've no idea how excited I was when I got that letter from your hawk!"

"Where's Sakura?" Sasuke asks, utterly bewildered by her absence. She's never late.

"Oh, she's at the hospital," Naruto winds a mouthful of noodles around his chopsticks, "She couldn't make it."

Something wound its way around Sasuke's heart, clenching the organ painfully and biting in with every beat. He makes an effort to unclench his teeth to speak. "What do you mean she's at the hospital? It's 7:30." The corner of his mouth twitches into a deep frown. "Didn't you tell her I would be here?"

Naruto swallows a bite of noodles with a wet slurp. "Well, yeah, but it's not like she can just leave whenever she wants to. She's an important medic, teme. She's one of the heads of the hospital now."

"It's Sakura," he says with a snort. "I sent that hawk two weeks ago, she should've been able to have someone cover for her."

"Listen, she'll see you next time. Don't get your panties all in a bunch." Naruto stuffs his face with ramen, then proceeds to talk while he chews. "So how were your travels?" He swallows with a loud gulp. "Kaka-sensei never gave me all the details. Said some bull crap about 'confidentiality', as if I'm not about to be Hokage soon." Naruto rolls his eyes at the mere memory.

But Sasuke wasn’t really paying attention, preoccupied with the uncoiling inside of him. This isn't like her, she'd want to see him. It's Sakura for gods sake. Sure, it's been a couple of years, but she's still team 7. She should be here, welcoming him home. Maybe she is sick. Maybe something happened. But now Naruto is babbling again and Sasuke knows he's supposed to be put-together by now, so he tries to at least play the part.

"I've just been helping around. Mostly in Kumo." He takes his first bite of ramen, and his stomach protests as he swallows. "Congratulations on your marriage, by the way." Sasuke tries not to think of Sakura again.

"Yeah, what the hell! Why weren't you there, eh teme?" Naruto pokes his chopsticks into Sasuke's arm accusingly then. "What kind of guy doesn't even attend his own best friend's wedding?"

"I was busy." Sasuke pushes his arm away not-too-gently. "I'll go to the second one when she realizes what a mistake she's made marrying a dumbass like you."

"Pfft." Naruto slurps more ramen into his mouth. "Please! Hinata's crazy in love with me! I'll have you know we have a kid on the way!" Sasuke coughs, choking on the noodles sliding down his dry gullet.

"What!?" The shop owner's ears perk up. "That's wonderful! Congratulations, Naruto!"

Naruto smile is so bright he can light the whole town. "Haha thanks! I'm really excited!"

"That's horrifying." Sasuke says and swallows water, his brain irreparably rattled at this news. Naruto? Having a kid? He’s not sure how he feels, or how to react and his head wires itself to the cynical default. "I hope it takes after her more than it does you."

Naruto's face softens then, and a gentle smile crawls over. "Me too."

And Sasuke thinks he has never been more jealous of a smile in his life.

Two days later, Sasuke arrives at training grounds 6 with his usual long blade in tow. He is surprised to see Naruto already stretching in the center of the mossy field. It's expected for Naruto to show up a bit early for his ramen, but he's never been quite as enthusiastic as Sasuke when it came to training.

"Oh, hey teme," Naruto calls, reaching past the length of his leg. "It's just gonna be us today. Sakura-chan said she'd be caught up in the hospital again."

Sasuke makes an effort to keep himself from scowling. "Whatever," he bites out, harsher than intended.

"I was kinda looking forward to watching her kick your ass, but guess I'm just gonna have to do it for her!" He chirps, jubilant as ever.

Sasuke scoffs, but doesn't bother to give a retort, preoccupied with Sakura's absence yet again.

"Let's keep it to taijutsu this time. Kaka-sensei yelled at me last time I wrecked a training ground."

Sasuke contemplates this for a moment. He certainly was looking forward to holding the raw power of a chidori in his palm, but there was still something sweetly relieving about slamming his fist into a jaw. Especially the dobe’s. Sasuke nods in agreement, the chill of the afternoon creeping along his skin. "It'll probably keep you out of the hospital," He says, tactfully abstaining from sneering a bitter comment about Sakura already having her hands full. He cracks his neck with a sharp tilt of his chin, then his knuckles with a biting pressure. It’s relieving, despite what the stark sounds suggest. But not relieving enough.

"Yeah, it won't keep you out though!" Naruto taunts, cerulean eyes gleaming. He faces Sasuke's grim frown with bent knees and a confident smile. "You ready?"

Sasuke answers with a forward lunge.

A week later, Sasuke suggests another attempt for the former teammates to commemorate his homecoming and the three of them agree to meet up at a civilian bar for a few drinks at night. Naruto proposes the location and Sasuke only agrees to it because he is sure Sakura won't get stuck in the hospital so late.

Sasuke is the first to arrive, and he isn’t sure if he is pleased or not at this realization. Without waiting for the other two, he orders a drink that's much too strong for this occasion. He compensates by taking measured a single measured sip, and revels in the slight burn of his throat as he swallows.

"Teme!" Naruto arrives a couple minutes later, taking a seat right by Sasuke. "Man, you wouldn't believe the shit pregnant women go through, Sasuke. She's not even that far in and she's throwing up like crazy today. I'm so glad I have a dick." Naruto makes a gesture to the bartender eyeing him then. "Oi! I'll have whatever he's having."

Sasuke quirks an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be helping her then?"

Naruto shrugs. "I told her that but she kept saying she's fine. You know how Hinata-chan is. I don't think she'd let me cancel on you for her, she's too kind for her own good." Naruto's face is as warm as honey.

"Sakura's not here," Sasuke's voice is heavy, but this time it's not with irritation. He takes another calculating sip of his beer.

"What? Am I not good enough for you?" Naruto asks, an unsatisfied frown framing his face.

Sasuke frowns. "She's never late." Sasuke takes a full gulp then to soothe his nerves, and he's displeased to find it numbing his senses but not his thoughts.

"Don't worry, she'll come. She's probably just stuck at the hospital. She's always working all kinds of crazy hours." A tall glass is placed before Naruto then, and he's too eager to take a fast gulp. He nearly chokes, his hand smacking against his mouth as he swallows before coughing. The bartender gives him a humored look, but Naruto's attention is focused solely on Sasuke. "Damn, teme! Fuck!" he rasps. "What is this? Vodka?"

Sasuke begins to feel a warming sensation in his body and he's urged on by the lightness of it, because thoughts of Sakura are making him feel so damn heavy. He takes another gulp and Naruto watches him incredulously. "Teme, you're not an alcoholic, are you?"

Sasuke grunts. "No, you idiot."

"Good, cause baa-chan already got that title, and I don't know if I could handle two of you."

It was then that Sasuke's dull senses alerted him to a presence approaching them. A woman with short black hair invites herself onto a seat next to him and his frown grew impossibly deeper. He runs his eyes over her form, sizing her up. Her clothes are skimpy but Sasuke is not jarred by flesh no more than open wounds. He's seen too much of both to be phased.

"Well, if it isn't Naruto Uzumaki and the great Sasuke Uchiha." Her grin is sincere but her lips are too thin and her hair is too dark for her to have any appeal to him. "You two wouldn't mind if me and a few girls chatted for a bit, would you? We've heard all sorts of stories about the shinobi war, but I'm sure it's nothing compared to hearing it from war heros themselves. Think maybe you could show us some moves?"

Naruto is already frowning too. "Uh, actu-"

"Get lost," Sasuke cuts him off, abrasively dismissing their uninvited guest.

She chuckles, the boldness of her laugh grating at Sasuke's ears. "Don't worry, I wasn't trying to tempt your friend into being unfaithful. The whole village knows about Hinata." She smiles then, and winks at him. "I was actually kind of more interested in you, Sasuke-kun."

Sasuke-kun she said. But her eyes aren't green and her hair isn't pink and Sasuke thinks he's actually going to be sick now.

His growl is demonic and it almost surprises even him. "If you don't leave in the next five seconds, I'll show this whole bar my techniques and you’ll be my live demonstration."

"Teme!" Naruto reprimands.

The woman's frown is twisted, more horrified than upset, eyes nearly bulging from their sockets. Her lips part, no doubt to retort, but then they close.

“I’m sorry, don’t mind him,” Naruto says. “He just has this problem where his personality is shitty.” Sasuke scoffs.

“I-it’s fine,” she stammers out. She mumbles something that he can’t quite make out over the noise. Then she's gone just as quickly as she came. Sasuke turns his attention back to his drink and he lets the liquid scorch his insides.

"Teme, that was really harsh," Naruto reprimands with a disappointed frown. It stings him, but he won’t admit to that.

"I don’t give a damn," Sasuke growls. "What kind of moron picks people up by asking about the carnage of war? Fucking idiot civilian." His tongue is loose and he's painfully agitated and where the fuck is Sakura?

Naruto is silent for a while, before his voice calls out, soft. “She doesn’t know,” He says. “It’s not her fault. Some things you just have to go through to understand.”

Sasuke's gulps his liquor down and tries not to ruminate on that.

"Hey, teme, I think you should come over sometime." Naruto says then, and his sincere smile back, as if it was never disturbed to begin with. Sasuke wishes he could wipe away his foul mood that quick. "I...I really want you to get to know Hinata better. I think you'd like her."

Sasuke perches his sole arm on the counter and shifts his weight. The room was spinning and he couldn’t tell if he likes this fact or not. "If she's anything like what I remember, I doubt it." He pauses, then eyes Naruto's newfound sneer. "But if she's your family, then she's mine too."

Naruto blinks, dumbfounded, before a wide grin unravels onto his face. And Sasuke is distantly aware of the fact that he feels pride in being the reason for that. "I think I need to get you drunk more often."

Sasuke snorts. "I'm not drunk." The buzz in his body and the vibration in his temple say otherwise.

"You'll love Hinata-chan's cooking," Naruto gleams. "I always tell her she could be a professional chef if she wanted to, it's amazing! When you come over, we'll whip something up with tomatoes in it too, it'll be great!"

Sasuke smirks at this, and the world seemed to slow down for a moment, watching Naruto take the first real gulp of his liquor. His eyes move back to the nearly empty glass in front of him, outlining the fractions of light—distorted and aimlessly scattered. He can feel the smile leave his lips as much as it does his chest.

"She's not coming."

There's a pause, and Naruto says nothing now, merely taking another sip of his liquor.

"She's avoiding me," Sasuke realizes aloud. "She doesn't want to see me." Something is scraping across his insides, dragging all his organs through his body and misplacing them between his bones.

"Hey now, I'm sure it's just the hospital, teme." Naruto says without any real conviction.

Sasuke shuts his eyes and grasps his head. He doesn't bother dignifying Naruto's shitty excuse with a response. "I should've known." His voice is hoarse and he knows it’s not because of the burn of the alcohol. "She never responded to my letter." Sasuke lifts his gaze back up, looking beyond into the nothingness as he feels knives carve into him. "She doesn't want anything to do with me anymore."

"You sent her a letter?" Naruto asks. "What the hell! You never sent me anything!"

"She seemed fine before I left, I don't understand." Sasuke groans, quiet and loud at once.

"No, it's nothing like that. Sakura's just really dedicated to her patients, that's all," Naruto says with a frown. "Besides, she's never really liked the bar scene anyway. I'm sure she'll come next time."

"Something’s going on. And you don't want to tell me." Sasuke pierces Naruto with a bold gaze, pathetically haughty and indignant for someone who isn’t sure which set of blurred blue eyes to set his own on. "What is it?" He’s somehow sober enough to see the wobble in Naruto’s frown, the tremble of his eye. Sasuke feels his mouth twitch, body heavy, stomach knotting into itself because it's true and he fucking knew it! His hand clenches into a trembling fist. His desperation is starting to show, but he's too drunk to care. "Why doesn't she want to see me? Is it because I left for so long? Is it because I didn't bring her with me? Is she upset with me?"

Naruto tactfully tears away from his gaze, and he palms his glass between his hands, but he doesn't drink more and Sasuke knows why. "Teme, calm down. It's nothing like that, she's just busy. She'll see you, don't worry."

"Bull shit."

Naruto only sighs and his lack of response feels a slow death. Naruto never bull shits like this. Sasuke visualizes himself picking the knives out of his own body. But then they’re full length swords taking its place, expertly serrated with her absence and his longing for home. Impulsively, he chugs the rest of his alcohol down in attempt to melt the metal cutting into him.

"Is she s-seeing someone? Is that it?" Naruto flinches. Panic ransacks his brain open and his voice is the most miserable and desperate warble he’s ever heard. He feels the pangs again. He wants to take his kunai and jam it into his left wrist, but he doesn’t have a left wrist anymore so he settles for moaning to his best friend. "Tell her I don't care. She's team 7. That's all that matters. She doesn't need to be mine, s'okay, I just nee—"

Naruto's resolve seems to grow. "Calm down. She's not dating anyone, geez." Sasuke is scratching the countertop. "You're being fucking weird, teme."

"I'm not being weird," he says defensively. He tries to get a grip on himself but his head is clogged and his body is falling asleep on him and Sakura isn't there with them. "Juss want to make sure she's okay."

"She's fine. You're overthinking this."

"Then why won't she come see me? Does it have to do with you? Are you—" He tries to eye him accusingly. Because a crush was never just a crush when they were little. Not with Sakura. Not with him. Maybe... "Are you—you’re having an affair with her?"

There's a loud crack of glass as Naruto slams his liquor down. "For fuck's sake, teme!" The jinchūriki snaps his head to his left, pinning Sasuke with an indignant glare. "If you weren't drunk as hell right now, I'd beat the shit out of you for that." The blonde exhales his anguish and turns away. And Sasuke feels a harrowing guilt. "Just relax, okay? She's busy, but she wants to see you, alright? It's Sakura. She's just busy."

Sasuke's head is a tightly wound balloon that's just been pricked. His stomach is eating itself. The room is spinning and the noise is too loud. "Where is she right now? What's her address? I'll jus' go to her."

"Sasuke, stop."

"Fine. I'll—I'll leave a note, I won' even visit—Please—I just—"

"Sasuke." Naruto grounds out. "She'll see you. Okay? I’ll make sure. Now cut it out, you're freaking me the hell out over here."

Sasuke feels like he's going to die, but he knows better than to keep running his mouth because now he might lose Naruto too and his family is gone all over again. Then there's something rising up in his stomach and he's craning his neck towards the left of his bar stool to vomit.

"Ack! Teme!"

Sasuke feels more bile slime up his throat and now he really wishes this awful alcohol was venom instead. Esophagus burning and fingers shaking, he hacks it up and out.

Naruto sighs. "Dammit." He can vaguely hear the bartender screeching at them. "C'mon, let's get you home."

#sasusaku #fanfiction #ghosts #elegiesforshiva #efs writes #homemade trauma soup

48 notes · View notes

mulder-isms · 7 years

Text

Summer in Brooklyn - Thorcid fanfic

A\N: Fic number 51 is a lucky charm! ✨

Writing this fic was a fun experience, because when you write on vacation I think it really pours into the writing that your brain is not so troubled. A hopeful fic, who would have thought. I’ve been obsessed with the idea of writing a summer camp fic, and it’s not AU, that’s right. All inside the thorcid novel!

Thank you @featherpluckn @raviolipocketoli @fashionclownn for the injury prompts, hope I used them well!

I’m really curious of what you guys are going to think because it’s completely different from everything else. Drop me a note 💕

“Okay, I think we have enough footage of the apartment. One last question and we can wrap it up? I’m going to the club with you to shoot the auction and street takes”

The producer and director of the King of queens series was sitting on a stool behind Shane’s crowded make-up corner. He was paired up with the camera man that seemed completely ready to finish the last shots of the day, fatigue on his face, chewing gun impatiently. Shane was in the process of overdrawing his lips and he wondered how much footage of him prepping they were going to use. Having people following him around the whole day was fun, but he was sure his house reflected him a little too well. An anthropological experience, they’ve captured all the tiny details as if he was an animal of rare habits to catch on camera, and everything was too precious to not record it.

“Living through art can be volatile sometimes I guess, music and drag performance, how do you deal with being blocked? Was there ever a time that you ran out of ideas?”

Shane chuckled nervously and looked down fumbling his brushes. He loves giving interviews because the stream of thoughts inside his head never ceases. But somehow just the word block was a bad omen, incited the feeling back again and he wanted to shake it off.

“You know, as musician, I feel protected” he paused to start his eyeliner and only continued after finishing the wing. He dropped the pencil down and turned his back to them. “Because music is beyond me. It surrounds me. Like if I’m blocked I can practice Brahms concerto until I have blisters, the work is already done, I just need to tune in. But drag comes out of me and…” he stopped taking a deep sigh, collecting the right words, gesticulating trying to summon them in thin air. “When my good friends are trying to cheer me up, I always try to remember. My life goes in a sine cosine, you know? When you’re really high you need to know there’s probably a lower point coming. Prepare for it. And when you’re low and you’re sitting like why am I doing this? You gotta know that right around the corner you’ll get inspired again”

The producer agreed pondering his advice and Shane got back to concentrating on the mirror in front of him.

It doesn’t matter how successful you are.

If you decide to take a break from work everybody gets worried. People are supposed to never stop the sick cycle carousel, and especially people like Shane are allegedly known for never giving up. When Shane told his dad, he furrowed the brows they both shared, asked if everything was okay financially and asked very awkwardly if Jamin was treating him right. He laughed finding it endearing. Jamin was treating him very right. It was his own soul-searching experience that his boyfriend had nothing do to with it.

Jamin’s reaction to the news wasn’t that much different from his father. I’m not going to take any drag gigs for a month. The big blue eyes widened as if they were going to fall from their orbits. He was in full disbelief but struggling to not throw him wet blankets.

“I want to believe you can, but I think after a week the withdraw is going to kick in and you’re bursting into the I’m so excited number around the house and break everything”

Shane was decided to prove them wrong, but it was way harder than he thought. After cleaning the whole apartment and catching up with errands and chores that were on hold for almost a year, there wasn’t much left to do. Jamin still had gigs booked and was doing his own clean up too. But Jamin was organized and a very active artist. He is always drawing, breaking, gluing and sewing. All at once. The kid that used to blow stuff in his house garage had his own studio and he was there all his free time. Shane worked in a complete different way. He overanalyzed his ideas working on all the outcomes and it took him a while to engage in action.

It got easier when his sister came to the rescue sent by his father. She asked him if he want to teach a kid’s band in summer camp for three weeks. His nieces were too small for summer camp, but their school was quite liberal and his sister assured him he could perform in drag once. He wasn’t totally convinced about that. Or about the whole prospect of it.

After a while marinating the idea in silence, considering all possible scenarios, he told Jamin while they were talking trough Facetime. Shane was eating Chinese food from the box on bed in Brooklyn and used his pillow as a phone support in front of him. Jamin was in California helping Becky at work and laid down on his hotel room bed.

It took him few seconds processing the most random information he ever heard, Shane continued slurping the noodles of the chop suey until he dropped the box impatiently.

“Fuck, you’re killing me. Just say something!”

“Where is it again? Vermont?” He asked scratching his left eye in a very sleepy tone.

Shane wasn’t expecting this question so he was unsure if he got it right. “Yeaaah? I actually know the place.”

Shane bit his lower lip in anticipation putting down the box while Jamin was still looking at him, thousands of questions behind his reddish eyes.

“I don’t know if I’m going to be a good teacher to these kids, and I know, it’s a complete new world? But I have a good feeling about it? It could go wrong in so many ways though”

“It’s going to be great, Thorg. You love this stuff. Wasn’t this what you had in mind? To disconnect…it’s just that, three weeks…”

Shane face was softening. Jamin wasn’t sure of his capacity, it was something else.

“I guess I was used to have you all day for me these past days…” he confessed giving up to beat around the bush.

Shane tilted his head as if he was watching the cutest video of baby animals on YouTube.

“Come with me”

Jamin scoffed shaking his head and cleared his throat.

“I wasn’t a boy scout like you, thank you very much. I’m an indoors queen. I never got the nature call”

“At least the last days, to watch me perform with the kids…getting a tan by the lake…make out in the woods” he lured him shimming his shoulders and raising his brows repeatedly. Shane felt a shiver down his spine as the memory of their last time in the woods was coming back.

“We’ll see, I can’t promise you anything” he replied being mysterious.

Shane was focusing on his lips on the screen. He kept licking them because of the dry weather.

“I can promise you the best marshmallows you ever eaten.”

Jamin observed him embracing his knees, the sweetest smile on his face.

“You play dirty”

The last time Shane was in summer camp he was still a kid. And this was the first thing he realized when he stepped out of his sister’s car into Kidville’s summer camp. The place was huge and surrounded by a forest, it was way fancier than what he recalled. There were cabins for the different age groups, and a main house for dining, lounging and internet connection. No wonder kids these days didn’t know how to do anything. They would comfortably get into the wild.

The other thing Shane came to notice, was that he was surrounded by straight people. And it’s been a long time since he was exposed to so many of them. The counselors were curious about his experience on TV, and how their gay friends watch the show and how cool drag was. Carefully being condescending and observing if he was going to magically transform into a woman.

The counselor for more physical activities such as taking the kids to the woods to show them scout tricks was impressed how he still knew all the tricks. The water activities instructor invited him to help with the kids on the second day. He was rusty in the beginning, but his childhood as competitive swimmer paid off.

A week later and Shane was the kids favorite. Mister Galligan was cool, because he always let them past the time in the lake. He watched Fantasia with the band kids and talked about the history of each song.

His favorite counselor was Dana. She was the drama teacher and her husband was the coach of the baseball team in the school. She looked like Melissa McCarty but with bright red hair. It was late at night and they were at the dinner table in the main house. Shane was helping her doing the dishes, drying what she was washing with a dishcloth.

“Let me finish these. I have some chocolate cake that I sneaked in from the city. It’s in the drawer” she winked at him taking the dishcloth from Shane’s hands.

He picked the cake and sat on the table, setting a plate for her. He was eating almost a whole piece, putting his foot on the chair next to him. They were alone so he could relax.

“Oh, you can eat mine” she said joining him on the table and noticing the plate he made for her. “I bought this by impulse. Brian would sniff the chocolate from a mile”

Brian was the husband. He seemed like a nice guy but every time Shane got near him he felt like he had a mission like Miss Vida in “To wong foo”. Dana didn’t sound unhappy but their relationship was a little bit off lately from what he captured in their late-night conversations.

“You’re gorgeous. You both should eat the cake and enjoy life” he answered cutting one more slice. She observed him giggling as Shane checked Jamin’s last messages. “I was trying to go on a diet but my boyfriend is the one to ruin it. I sent a piece of this ridiculous cake to him. He is awful”

Even though everyone there knew he was gay Shane could swear Meg’s face changed every time he mentioned him.

“Oh, you haven’t showed me a picture of him yet!”

Shane searched in the mess of his cell for pic of Jamin, but he didn’t have many. The best one was taken in a sneaky way, he was sitting on the kitchen’s table staring at his laptop all concentrated. One of the few pictures that he wasn’t making any stupid faces.

“Wow, he is a stud!” she nodded while Shane zoomed the picture.

“He is. But he doesn’t know and he is always escaping from pictures, which is not fair since he is a professional photographer and he takes pictures of me all the fucking time”

She softly chuckled but with a sour taste in her mouth. She couldn’t even remember the last time Brian noticed her enough to take pictures of her.

“How long have you guys been together?” she shook off the feelings focusing on the happiness of her new friend.

“We’ve been friends for almost twelve years, but in a relationship for a year. It still sounds weird every time I think about it but I’ll get used to it eventually.”

“Brian was my high school boyfriend, my first…everything”

“Oh” Shane uttered. “That happens quite often with girls, right? You seem like you were the high school sweethearts”

“We were and somehow still are. And now our kids are becoming teenagers and ugh, sometimes it feels like we never left school”

Shane observed her grabbing a piece of cake and eating it.

“You go, girl. But it’s so good, right? The kids are so great…I don’t know if it’s because I connect with their chaotic train of thought. You get used to artificial lights you forget that there is brightness outside…”

“I would kill for some artificial lights. And make up. And glamour.” she spoke full mouth forking the cake again to retrieve another slice.

“Girl, I can arrange that in a minute. We need a makeover day. I guess…we’re always craving for new places. New platforms.”

“That’s the fuel of being an artist, right?” she shrugged and swallowed another piece, clueless about the answer for the question Shane had in mind the whole time.

Shane kept in touch with Jamin constantly but it wasn’t easy since they only had internet connection in the main house, and the activities drained him off a lot. He was helping the band kids, the swimming team and Dana with the costumes for her presentation. He had no idea how useful he could be in that environment.

Week two was over fast.

He was finally tanned, a darker shade and a healthy glow not just burning red serving tourist realness. His freckles were popping out and his dreads were suffering with the different humidity. He dropped the pounds he wanted to lose just with the constant exercising.

Time was passing by so fast it surprised him. It was good to wake up and having a routine. He didn’t have a plane to catch. Opposite to people’s conceptions, the earth was way gentler than being in the clouds. At the end of each day he didn’t have tips, but the rewards were there. Every time Katie lit up getting the right note.

Week three was there.

Jamin turned down his invitation because Acid was booked the whole weekend. It was Proud month and Shane was aware he was swimming against the tide. He didn’t have high expectations he would come but he was slightly sad. He really wanted to share this happiness with him.

“Jim, you have to go from G to E minor slowly, the tempo is not right yet. I’m going to play again and you just follow me”

Shane was with the band practicing in the main house. They had a small studio with a lovely view for the forest in a glass wall. Jim was the oldest one and the pianist, fourteen years old and seemed completely done for the day. Shane was sitting by his side showing the correct notes and he was rolling his eyes.

“Mister Galligan, can I go? All the kids already left…the art workshop will start in ten minutes and it’s across the field…”

Shane stopped playing defeated. He was being nip picky and he didn’t want to go full mode neurotic. He smiled and made a gesture for him to go.

“Thaaaaaank you!” he pleaded relieved almost running to grab his backpack. “Aren’t you coming? Today we’re having a new teacher!”

Shane didn’t seem interested collecting the sheets from them piano support but when he heard new teacher his stomach swirled, and before he turned his back a familiar voice entered the room.

“I heard Mr. Galligan was holding the band members as hostages so I came to rescue them”

Jamin was there, hands on waist, wearing classic dad bermuda shorts, backpack on his left shoulder and from what Shane noticed full of art supplies.

“Are you the assistant of Mrs. Holland? I’m Jim!” the boy offered him a hand and Jamin exchanged glances with Shane that was clearly trying to contain his excitement.

“Yeah, I’m Jamin. Please, don’t need the mister”

They greeted each other and Jim was waiting for them to walk him to the class. Shane was too hypnotized with the new assistant to react.

“Er, Jim can you wait outside some minutes while I help Mr…Galligan with the- uh, - he looked around but everything was pretty tied up.

“I’m going to give him his schedule and catching him up a bit” Shane finally reacted pushing the kid gently across the room.

He closed the door behind them and Jamin was already him pushing Shane against the door for a kiss that almost swiped his mouth off. Jim heard the thump noise outside but continued playing with his cellphone.

Jamin’s arms were around him and his lips latched on his neck as his hands explored his lower back and pulled him grabbing hard his ass to squeeze him further against the door. Jamin was nuzzling his ear on the line of his jawline and planting small kisses, “You smell like sunscreen…and your skin is so warm. I was freezing at home…” he paused to kiss him again slowly, and when he disconnected he looked deep into his eyes, and whispered opening a huge smile, “Mr. Galligan”

Shane giggled with his arms around his shoulder.

“The only place I’m taken seriously”

Then he adjusted Jamin’s glasses that were all crooked and kept staring at him like he was going to fade away any moment.

“I had to reschedule a lot so you owe me many things, this is not for free, bitch. We have two days left for perfect marshmallows, sunlight and hopefully making out in the woods”

Shane was shaking his head feeling sorry.

“Yeaaah, about that. The woods are so guarded here they have rangers and the older kids are camping these days” he pouted. Jamin wasn’t ready to give in.

“Make it work” he demanded slapping Shane’s ass lightly and getting out of his embrace. “Your student is outside and apparently I have a class too. This is so weird”

Shane laughed exasperated. Was this really happening?

“You’re going to be fine. You’re a mysterious kid whisperer. And they’re great here. Just stay away from the Yellow group. They are the third graders and that’s the worst age, I hope my nieces and Ally never grow up”

They left the room to find Jim outside thankfully oblivious of their quick come back make out.

Jamin grew up in artificial places. Not that he hated nature, it was nature that provided the inspiration to create his own alternative vision of the world and himself. Acid Betty was untamed in so many levels, always strutting fierce in the wilderness of the night. He had few memories of summer camp, but growing in California and then going to London sort of shun him away from the typical American suburban rituals.

He was the assistant of the main art teacher. She was in her early twenties, typical art student with pink hair and tattoos and a lot of pretentious talk. They were teenagers and they seemed more interested in her hair and Jamin’s piercings than painting techniques. But when they started working, Jamin felt a strange fulfillment looking at their canvas, they all seemed so similar outside, but each one had a different type of stroke, the color use and drawing line. So unique and inspiring.

Jamin avoided social contact as much as he could, but sometimes it was good to remember the good in people.

The day went by fast and after the class it was lunch break and Dana showed him the place. He barely saw Shane, but his name was brought up constantly, which made him strangely proud. Dana seemed sweet and curious, but discreet. He could feel they were the first gay couple she ever interacted in a deeper level.

It was probably past 3 pm and Jamin needed to recharge his cellphone before the next group activity. Then he saw Shane’s message to meet him by the lake.

Shane: Swimming time is finished here. I’m trying to catch a fish for dinner. I have the marshmallows you bring the wood for the campfire…no sexual innuendo intended. Although, yes please.

Dana was talking to the other counselors and side eyeing Jamin. The blond and tall one with a thick beard seemed to be her husband.

Jamin: Dana is with me and she seems determined to not leave me alone. Thorg, you need to rescue me. I interacted with too many people today. I may collapse.

There was no way he was going to get rid of her so they all went to the lake together. It was their break time, but there was a small group of kids playing with a ball near the pier. Jamin eyed Shane from afar, standing up with his fishing rod and no shoes on by the shore. He was still wet from the swimming competition with the kids and his shorts and a white tank top were glued in his skin. The dreads were mostly out and a portion loose in a messy bun.

As he got closer Shane turned with a smile that was brighter than the sun. He wanted to kiss the top of his shoulder full of freckles but Dana and Brian were behind him, so he just brushed his waist.

“Hi” he warned him of his presence rubbing lightly his back. He could swear Shane was going for a kiss but he also remembered they were not alone nodding for Dana and Brian.

“How was it?” he asked curious, exchanging the glance between Jamin and Dana, but still paying attention to his grip on the fishing rod.

“Oh, it was just great! Jamin gave them Acid Betty cards and the kids couldn’t believe they are the same person”

“I can’t believe it too” added Jamin surprised with himself, and he was unconsciously rubbing Shane’s back in circles.

Brian was trying to not stare at them, as if he was watching his parents kissing.

“Shane, are these for the campfire?” Brian noticed eager the beginning of a campfire by the shore. “Honey, help me fetch some more?” he asked tilting his head for Dana. She buffed aware of his discomfort.

“Sure” she replied not excited at all.

Shane looked at Jamin and made an “ooops” face. Jamin observed the horizon and took a deep breath.

“They are so…. straight” Jamin pondered observing the lake buoys. The lake didn’t seem deep but if they were using these it probably had dangerous spots.

Shane was laughing but trying to not lose focus from the water. “I know, I thought Brian was going to faint if you get any closer…”

“But they know, right? About us? I don’t want to hide even here”

“They know” he reassured him. Jamin observed Shane furrowing his brow looking at the lake but the waters remained untroubled.

“How long have you been here?” he asked sitting down on the pier by his side. He removed his sneakers and to wet his feet. The water was freezing cold, and yet Shane was there and wearing almost nothing. He eyed his legs, the water running making a puddle on the floor.

“Maybe half an hour….” he calculated. “I used to go fishing with dad a lot. But he says I’m too impatient and my trace gets too tense.”

“Well, you can’t have all the abilities in the universe”

Shane rolled his eyes and deep sighed. He stared at the line the sky was full of colors, it looked like one of the canvas of his temporary students.

“Thank you for this. I think we really needed it”

Shane just nodded relieved and Jamin grabbed his bare calf, planting small kisses, Shane shivered with the ticklish sensation. He tasted salty and earthly. Jamin was addicted to his new taste. They stood there in silence just listening to the kids playing with the ball behind them. Shane started humming along a song, until he started the lyrics.

Percussion…strings…winds…words

There you see her

Sitting there across the way

She don’t got a lot to say

But there’s something about her

And you don’t know why

But you’re dying to try…

The Little Mermaid was one of Jamin’s favorite movies. Shane was dancing along until he looked down at Jamin and winked.

“You wanna kiss the girl”

Jamin was trying not to be completely in love with this man but it was an impossible task. Especially when he would hit on him singing The little mermaid and making a perfect impression of Sebastian’s singing voice.

“Stop trying to catch poor Flounder and come here” he grabbed Shane’s calf again.

Shane retrieved the rod giving up and sat by his side.

“You want to be my Eric?” he asked his arm around his shoulder, just like he did when Bob and Lucian were arguing in the taping of Street Meatz.

“Oh my god! You’re that crazy bird, that one that brings Ariel all the human objects!”

He said laughing hard and Shane pinched him lightly.

“Bitch!”

They heard an “Uh-hum” sound behind them and Brian and Dana were there for god knows how long.

“The wood is there but we’re leaving. We’re gathering the other counselors before we start the last activities of the day” Brian said avoiding looking at them.

“Shane, it’s getting late but the kids still want to play so you guys can take them?”

“Sure, we’re just putting these away and we’ll follow you” Shane reassured her. She looked bothered with Brian’s presence.

They left and they started packing up. Shane observed that the kids were throwing the ball quite high. Meggie threw the ball in a one high kick and it landed on the lake. She was positively scared after realizing what happened.

“Mr. Galligan can you pick it up for us?”

The other kids were on the shore ready to jump in but Jamin stopped them. The ball got stuck in some branches on the other side of the shore, in a place full of rocks and moss. Jamin observed him ready to jump in, always cocky.

“Shane, don’t you think it’s better to get the coach?”

“I was swimming back there yesterday” he scoffed jumping in.

They observed his broad strokes until he got there. Everything looked easy and the kids were anxious for him to come back. When he stopped at the shore he retrieved the ball with no effort, it wasn’t stuck, just placed in the branches nest. When he showed them the ball like a trophy Shane lost balance and his expression changed for a smile to pain. The kids gasped.

“Are you okay?!” Jamin yelled worried almost jumping in.

“Yes!” Shane answered but still not moving. “I…slipped and I think I scratched my foot in a pointy rock…” he replied looking down at the water calculating his way back.

“Do you want me to get you?”

In the middle of the question Shane was already swimming back slowly. Jamin knew it couldn’t be something so serious but he was ready to rescue him. When Shane got closer Jamin got in the water to help him. As he was walking out the trail of blood was dyeing the water red.

The kids were shocked and Meggie almost crying. Jamin asked them to make way so he could help Shane to sit on the tree trunk next by the firewood.

“I’m fine, I’m fine…there’s no need to panic. Meggie, I’m fine sweetie. It’s nothing”

“Go get the people from the nursery room. I can take care of him”

The kids followed Meggie.

“I can’t even look at it but it’s burning like…fuck!” he winced as he moved the leg and Jamin winced with him. It was a cut on the bridge of the foot. His knee was scratched too.

“How did you even do this?” Jamin noticed kneeled in front of him. “It was so fast”

“The damn moss is so slippery. When I tried to wave the ball, I lost balance and…”

Jamin was worried about Shane but somehow, he was finding it hilarious.

“Stop laughing, this hurt!” he replied annoyed and Jamin cupped his face for a peck.

“Sorry, sorry…you’re just so cocky…waving that ball like a big hero”

He side hugged him and few minutes the people from the nursery room were there.

Shane needed two stiches and had to use a crutch so it wouldn’t hurt to put weight on his leg. He was dismissed from the camp activities the rest of the day but Jamin wasn’t. He slept in the hammock of the main room and dreamed about performing in drag for the kids the other day. It was the best nap he took in months.

He took a long bath and come back to the main house for to meet the other counselors for dinner. He wasn’t expecting to be so distant of Jamin the whole day and they didn’t have individual rooms and Jamin’s bed was far from his. He wondered if they would have any time alone at all. After dinner, they played board games and since there was no alcohol allowed they got sugar high with milkshakes from fresh fruits. He was dying for a beer. He was a creature of the night and Jamin’s presence awake his true habits.

“How’s the foot?” Jamin asked sitting next to him on the table and caressing his thigh. His boot was wrapped in a bandage and his knee still red from the scratch. Dana observed them with a sweet smile across the table.

“I probably will have to chop it off” he joked dramatically. It was stinging but the painkiller was kicking in smoothly.

“Do you want another milkshake?” Jamin asked feeling sorry for him. Shane was looking at him as if he was the dessert he wanted to drink in.

“Um, can you find a shot of whiskey and beer?”

Jamin chuckled, his hand going inside Shane’s thigh a bit more.

“Yes? Thousands of miles from here in Brooklyn?” he replied grabbing harder and then standing giving a soft tap. He got up to get more.

Shane sighed frustrated observing his ass in those daddy shorts. Shane felt Dana’s eyes on him the whole time until she finally joined him.

“Are you okay?”

He chuckled. He got balloons of get well, flowers, and people couldn’t stop asking if he was okay apparently.

“I am in-credible. It looks more serious than it really is”

She seemed like she wanted to confess something. She was acting weird the minute Jamin arrived.

“Shane, I’m sorry I-I” she stuttered trying to find the words.

Oh boy, Here we go, he thought.

“I’m acting crazy around you and Jamin, I know I’m staring. I’m just, ugh! I miss this. The way you look at each other. You’re just so full of passion…and Brian, please don’t be bothered with him. He is awkward with people in general”

Shane didn’t know what to answer because it was the first time someone ever said this to him. He realized that all his previous relationships weren’t exactly goals for anyone. And being in a place like that the magnifying glass was on them.

“Girl, just relax… I…we just really happy that we’re here. Thank you for this. And you need to surprise Brian, you need to find each other again. Drop by tomorrow before the kids concert, let’s dress up a bit. You’ll feel renewed”

She opened a big smiled and hugged him profusely.

It was late and Jamin was laid on the hammock in the balcony outside, rocking it peacefully. It was a big lounging area, lit only by the stars and the light coming from the living room. Shane’s violin soloist asked him for a private rehearsal since they couldn’t practice and he was waiting him to come back. The silence was luring him to sleep. The city is always so noisy that his ears were getting used to the bucolic environment.

Jamin was sure it was almost midnight, and he was drowsy, limbs sore from the full day. He wanted Shane to come back, and just the thought of him in that pier was enough to make him warm. He felt slowly being taken by the slumber when he saw Shane’s silhouette was forming in front of him. He wondered if it was a dream, but he was very vivid leaning his crutch on the wall and indicating that he was going to join him on the hammock.

It was big but enough for the two of them but they needed to adjust positions. Shane was side laying, his hurt leg over Jamin’s as he used the free leg on on the floor to rock them slowly.

Shane started kissing his neck with no rush, as his hand traveled across his chest. Jamin deep sighed relieved and side kissing him. His hands reached for Shane’s cheek, and his fingers dug his dreads, languid caressing his scalp. Shane’s hands were clutching down his belly searching for the button of his shorts.

“I was going to ask…” Jamin was trying to talk but Shane was rubbing him over the shorts and he couldn’t even finish his thought. “There’s still people in the living room” he warned him panting heavily.

Shane wasn’t in the mood for talking and reached for Jamin’s earlobe nibbling at it. Jamin was feeling Shane’s erection growing on the side of his leg and it was making his cock twitch by the second. He missed him like crazy and he smelled so different. As if all these days in the woods changed the texture of his skin, that mix of sunscreen and his natural musk was driving him insane.

“I asked Dana to watch the door…” he whispered grinding harder on his leg.

Jamin guided his hand to grab his bulge and wiped his mouth in a kiss. Shane’s fast fingers reached for Jamin’s cock and started to pump it, he was a bit surprised with how stiff it was and giggled looking down. They could hear people talking really close to them, Shane then spit on hand and raised his brows. Jamin was always surprised how he could change from adorable to slut in a minute. When he started pumping him more precisely with the natural lube, he let go a loud grunt and Shane continued focusing on the pace and circling the tip with his thumb, making Jamin squirm a bit. The precum was already forming. Jamin was so close it was ridiculous, he needed to hold it back but Shane was definitely inspired.

“Slow down a bit, Jesus…”Jamin asked whispering inside his mouth and Shane stopped laughing and cupped his face for kiss.

“Someone has been missing me…” he teased him grinding harder on the side of his leg.

“Sit…on the armchair” he commanded trying to catch an even breath.

“For a minute I thought you were going to ask me to sit on your face” he replied giggling.

“I wish we could have time and a healthy leg for it” he raised his brows considering it.

There was an armchair in the back of the place but Shane was so comfortable where he was. But Jamin was already moving to be up. He stood up and helped him walk with the crutch to get to the chair. They both laughed of the situation.

“Horny people are determined” Shane commented skipping with one leg.

Shane landed on the chair like a rock and before he started making jokes Jamin was hovering on him kissing his chest and going down to place himself between his legs. He pulled the waistband of Shane’s black and white oversized pants and he remembered all the times they were lose on the taping of Drag Race. Shane lift his butt to help him wincing with the pain, Jamin tried to be more gentle.

“Don’t stop” Shane reassured him.

Jamin continued kissing his crotch and belly as his hand started pumping him, and Shane arched his back sliding on the chair. Jamin kissed his bruised knee and then he was holding the base of his cock to slowly taking him in. Jamin put Shane’s injured leg over his shoulder pushing him down by the hips.

“Fuck!” he let go feeling his tongue inside of him and Jamin went deeper. He tried to looked back but he couldn’t see anything. It was too late. Anyone hat would bust in would see him with legs up in the air with his boyfriend giving him a rimjob.

His voice was fading away as Jamin inserted two fingers inside of him and licking his balls, going up and down exploring his whole length. He couldn’t stop moaning and grabbed the top Jamin’s head, holding his curls like a leash, which make him finger him even harder.

Shane was panting like there wasn’t any air left in the room and he knew he was close and he knew he was getting loud.

“Choke me…” Jamin’s hand reached fast for his neck, making him knocking his head slightly against the wall. He felt sparkles running through his legs and his body curling up as he emptied himself completely in Jamin’s mouth, he didn’t retrieve, his other hand still around his neck. Jamin finally slid out of him swallowing it completely, he caressed his neck that had light red fingerprints and Shane leaned forward to kiss him and reaching for his cock. In the motion he hurt his foot a bit when he put the leg on the ground.

“Ouch!” he complained and Jamin winced with him, and Shane cleaned what have poured from his mouth with his finger, using it lube Jamin’s cock. Jamin opened a huge smile with his dirty cleverness. He was still on his knees between Shane’s legs.

They were listening to the people in the room talking about the activities of the other day and they both started laughing, but Shane didn’t stop pumping him, and his smile quickly melted into a half open mouth full of desire.

“I can see the headlines…Gays defile summer camp, is this the America that you want?” Jamin teases standing up and pulling down his pants just enough so Shane can finish him off.

Shane takes him all in quickly and with an impressive agility sucks him enthusiastically. His foot was probably hurting like hell but he didn’t min. After a few thrusts, he came hard making Shane gag a little but he didn’t pull away. Jamie peaked at the glass window in front of him, the wind was hitting the curtains and people could easily see him. Shane continued licking him off and kissing his shaft, kissing the sides and going up and down to finish with a peck on the tip.

Jamin leaned down to kiss him already putting his pants back on again, closing his fly and helping Shane to put his pants back on. He helped him standing up and they both fixed each other’s clothes and hair, but they managed to not make much of mess. Shane was still coughing a bit and his neck had finger marks on.

“Soooorry!” Jamin said chuckling while rubbing gently his cheek and neck, Shane picked up a scarf he brought and covered his neck with it. “I think I was feeling my porn actress oats too much…” he giggled skipping-walking with one leg.

“Always cocky…” Jamin squeezed his waist helping him.

When they got back there was only Dana and two other counselors in the room. Dana exchanged a meaningful look with Shane.

“I think we lost track of time and took a nap in hammock”

He explained what nobody asked. Dana eyed Jamin’s reddish knees and he noticed avoiding their eyes meeting.

The kids from the band were nervous, but Shane was making sure they were going to be amazing. He was probably more nervous than them, but Jamin calmed him down.

The song chosen was “The heart asks pleasure first” from The Piano movie. There was nothing to be orchestrated but Shane stood in front of them conducting their tempo. He was wearing formal slacks and a dress shirt, drag was off the question since his leg was injured and he only brought high pumps. One classic black shoe and the other feet still in a bandage. Jamin was sitting front row observing all his crazy playing faces. Waving his maestro baton and leaning his body on the crutch. As he watched them playing and seeing the happiness exuding from Shane he knew there was nothing better to be taken away completely by something that you love. The music took Shane, and Jamin was gladly part of the notes.

When they finished everyone applauded standing up in ovation and Shane bowed to them, locking his gaze in Jamin. He had tears in his eyes.

Later after the camp goodbye they were sitting on the deck drinking some beers with their foot on the water. Shane put Leon Bridges on his phone playing, and the gentle guitar soaring, his cotton voice echoing.

“We don’t have this in Brooklyn…” Shane realized looking at the sunset.

“You know, you really have to continue with this. Playing for kids. Conducting. Watching you there was…incredible” he reached for his hand and Shane squeezed back. He looked down laughing and shaking his head.

“I fucked up many notes, but who cares right?” he shrugged and took one more sip. Jamin agreed and they clinked bottles. “I love you”

He uttered still looking at the sunset. It wasn’t a desperate confession or a realization. Just a reminder of simple things.

“I love you too” Jamin answered taking a sip of his beer and kissing the palm of Shane’s hand. They stayed there until the sun set down completely, all the colors melting into blue velvet. The memories still safe and vivid in their minds.

They would carry them to Brooklyn.

#thorcid #rpdr fanfiction #rupaul's drag race #thorgy thor #acid betty #whorses #the smut is strong on this one so be prepared lol

17 notes · View notes