#but if i tried id literally fuck up my joints more than they already are
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Got free gay stuff at my school's pride fair hell yeah
#pronoun and pride flag pins (nb pride obviously)#some stickers#a magnet#a tshirt#A FREAKING BUBBLE WAND NECKLACE#A FANNY PACK!!!#they really knew their target audience there#but also my citys rollerderby team tried recruiting me#which#yeah#but if i tried id literally fuck up my joints more than they already are#but i have their flyer taped to my wall now so thats fun
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skin ⤻ chpt. one
— pairings: jean kirschtein x fem bodied nb!reader
— warnings: none for now
— summary: after reuniting with your childhood bestfriend, jean and a long heated night together you establish a friends with benefits relationship. what could go wrong?
— modern au
— wc: 2.6k
— a/n: sorry nothing really happened, this is really just me setting things up !
⤺ skin masterlist
After a long and stressful day with work, you finally arrived home. The first thing that crossed your mind was letting your mother know you’d be skipping out on brunch with her and some old friends the next afternoon so you could catch up on some much needed sleep. You removed your shoes and wiped the small bit of sweat which was accumulating on your forehead, outside felt like a heatwave being it was nearing the peak of summer, work has been pretty busy lately with all the moms coming in and demanding for you to restock the pool noodles — which obviously you had no control over just being a mere cashier. You never knew how stressful it could be just standing behind a counter all day, which you didn’t take into account is the long and blistering walk home. Maybe a summer job wasn’t the best choice?
“Oh hey Mom!” Your mom was just passing by with a laundry basket in hand, probably heading to clean clothes for tomorrow.
“Hi Y/N, how was work?”
“Long.” You filled a cup of cold apple juice up before turning back over to her, “By the way, I can’t go with you and dad to brunch tomorrow. I’m pooped and need some extra sleep.”
“Y/N, you can’t skip out, I understand you’re tired but an old friend who you’ll probably be happy to see is going to be there, and i’ll make sure you don’t miss him, he’s rarely in town anymore.”
“He?” You tried to think of all the guys who’ve came into your life which your parents took a liking to, there were a few but not any you really would want to see.
“Yes, he. Now get showered you smell like clorax and sweat!”
“Jeez Mom way to put it lightly!” You both laughed together, these moments definitely made you glad you decided to move back for the summer and stay off of campus. You picked up your phone after it buzzed and saw an incoming follow request from “Jean Kirschtein” the name rang a bell but ultimately you chose to ignore it and decline. You decided to fix the obvious awful scent which was coming from you and headed to shower.
You looked at the array of bath soaps, body scrubs and shampoos you and your mom shared, you picked up the ‘vanilla mint’ scent which always brought comfort to you for some odd reason, it just has for as long as you could remember. After massaging your head with shampoo and conditioner you shaved your legs until you were satisfied with the outcome and jumped out of the shower. Noticing the time after you went to pause your music you realized just how long you took, it was already past seven pm and your dad should be home, hopefully with dinner. Before leaving, you moisturized your legs and added an acne serum to your face, gently patting it into your cheeks and forehead. You just threw on some boxer-like shorts and one of your dads old band tees and peeked into the kitchen.
“Hey darling.”
“Hey Dad, did you pick up dinner?” You leaned over the counter giggling at your mothers antics, being she was behind your father mocking him.
“Yes I did, burritos good? There’s this new joint by the office.”
“Sick, thanks dad! I’ll set the table, love you.” You pecked his cheek before grabbing plates and cups for the three of you, you hadn’t remembered the last time you ate, it probably was around eleven when you had your lunch breaks. Which you believed to be a bit too early for lunch. You smiled widely at both of your parents as they sat down at the table.
“What do you guys want to drink? I’ll go get somethin’ for us all.”
“I’ll just have a water pumpkin.” You took your dads cup and gave him a thumbs up then looked to your mother.
“I still have my protein shake i’ll be fine!”
“Mkay!” You took yours and your dads cups and filled them about halfway with water, adding a bit of lemon and ice to yours, “Dad do ya want ice?”
“Sure, thank you. Now hurry up your foods getting cold!” You shuffled back over to the table handing your dad his iced water and flashing him a shiny smile.
“Thanks again!” After that you dug into your dinner and the whole meal was filled with your dad telling you and your mom about people calling in asking for help with computers and you telling them about annoying people you had to deal with and, of course your mom complaining about Amy from her yoga class.
By the time you all died down and your mom mentioned you should all get some sleep so you’d all be in good moods for brunch in the morning, inevitably you gave up in trying to skip out due to your moms persistence to join them. You walked into your room to be greeted by the warmth and comfort it always gave off to you, you grabbed your phone and plopped onto your bed ready to finally wind down and relax after such a long day. Your eyes got heavy and you felts drowsy before you gave in and fell into a deep sleep. You dreamed of the same boy you had been for a while, he was cute, really cute and he always brought comfort to you. This dream always took place in a pre-k classroom, playing will blocks and legos and the smell of popcorn and juice in the air. He always came up with a smile on his face which was missing one of his front teeth already, some spaghetti sauce around his mouth and asking if you wanted to play tag. But everytime before you said yes, you always woke up and you were no longer in a carefree mindset like a child and that boy was never there all that was there was a loud ‘beep beep beep’ sound ringing in your ears which never failed to wake you up right at ten thirty am.
This time your mom was also in your room, rummaging throughout your dresser drawers. She was humming the same song she used to sing you to sleep with which always made you smile. You whined as you sat up stretching.
“Morning honey, can you wear this today?” She had just a white tee and a jean shorts pretty simple and nice to wear in the summer.
“Sure that’s fine, how much time do I have?”
“Around an hour or so, make sure you hurry please I don’t wanna be late.”
“Mkay, by the way when do I getta know who this wonderboy is?”
“When you see him you’ll know, trust me. Now get ready!”
She walked out of your room to let you get dressed, after putting on the outfit she chose you just found some random sandals to wear and fixed your hair a bit, you still had some time to spare so you just chilled on the couch playing a random cooking game. Your mom came out to show herself off and she did her cheesy little jazz hands.
“You look beautiful Momma.”
“Thank you, Y/N, you look great aswell.” You both looked in the kitchen to see your dad eating something, “We are literally going to brunch why in the world are you eating?” She obviously wasn’t mad but she shook her hand at your dad which made you both chuckle. They both had been together since they were in highschool and seemed to have an unbreakable bond. That was something you’ve always wanted with another person, just to be able to find comfort in another so easily, and trust them no matter what. And just the very way they looked at eachother and the loving gaze they shared, it was everything, they were soulmates and all you wanted was to find something like that. Your special person.
“Well, we should get going, the car drive is a bit long id say.” You lifted yourself up from the couch and followed them, still looking down at your game. You plopped into the car once again, and just gazed out the window.
“Where are we goin’ again?”
“Just a pancake house, nothing too special y’know?”
“Mkay, thanks Mom.” You looked back down at your phone to see that ‘Jean’ guy requesting you again, you found it kinda weird but you decided to look at his account. He was attractive. No he was fucking hot, he had a shiny ash blonde mullet, which some of it was a darker shade, somewhat brown. His hair had a slight wave at the ends adding just a bit of volume to it. You scrolled a little bit more to find out he had a chihuahua and a shitzu. He was also doing good in school and — you double tapped. You mentally cursed at yourself, you just liked a post from not too long ago but still he’d now know you’re looking at his account. Out of guilt you let him follow you, you had to now atleast. You just turned off your phone and flipped it over, ignoring what just happened.
“You alright? You look sick.” You looked up to your mom who was looking at you from the front seat, “If its about ‘wonderboy’ don’t be too scared you two used to be so close, you’ll click instantly!”
“Mkay Mom, and I’m fine.” You acted as if you totally didn’t just stalk a hot guy on Instagram, gawk over him then like one of his posts from a few weeks back. You were totally fine, what else could happen. You were incredibly tempted to go look at his page again, his arms always seemed to fill his sleeves from what you saw and, he had a stubble which was just a shade darker than his hair. He dressed incredibly well and looked like he smelled like fancy cologne. You checked your phone and it already had been thirty minutes.
“Mom when’ll we get there?”
“It’s just done the road, relax honey.” You sighed in relief, your stomach had been churning the past few minutes and you needed out of that humid car. Once you parked and looked at the time, it was half past eleven, the exact time of your reservation.
“Alright, we’re at a patio table so you two walk their i’ll go talk with the bouncer to see if the others are here.” Your dad patted your head before walking off to check in, you followed behind your mom. With your hands in your pocket you guys turned the corner and a certain someone caught your eye, the guy from instagram, Jean was it? He was sitting in the patio, her hair was thrown into a ponytail and a chocolate brown like some of Jeans hair, she was cute and obviously his mother.
“Oh my goodness, Kirschtein is that you?!” Your eyes widened, these were the people you were joining for brunch. “Jean! You’ve grown so much, you look very handsome now.”
“Thank you ma’am, Y/N is that you?” He smiled widely before stepping closer to you and embracing you in a bear hug, you let out a small defeated laugh before hugging him back, “How’ve you been? How long has it been?”
“Since preschool.” Your gazes went to his mom who stole you from Jean and hugged you even tighter. You felt the life being squeezed out of your ribs, even though you barely remembered these hugs. And the scent you’ve always loved, both Jean and his mom smelled like vanilla and mint, it was pretty ironic. You all took a seat waiting for your dad to come back before you ordered anything. Jean was seated across from you, his legs were a bit on your end of the table but you just ignored it, everything seemed so awkward yet comfortable all at the same time. Jeans presence was just comforting and made you feel warm and whenever he talked to you and kept eye contact? That made you wanna scream, you two hadn’t seen eachother for years but instantly clicked.
Once your Dad came back, he had five menus in hand and gave them all out. You all talked amongst yourselves about what you’ll get to eat, and what you’ll be getting to drink, ultimately you settled on a coffee, so did your Dad. While Jeans mom and your Mom giggled about some drink they used to always share before ordering two of them, Jean got a decaf. It seemed plain but you weren’t one to talk. You had been engulfed in whatever it was you were doing on your phone until Jean kicked you lightly and gestured to his own phone. You clicked on instagram and saw he had messaged you there.
“Hey, so are we gonna talk abt you stalking me orr?”
“No, we’re not Jean, please just forget abt it.”
After that your drinks had finally came, now you all had to order you got just some pancakes, nothing special. Jean got an omelette while his and your Mom shared french toast and your Dad got waffles. The conversation over brunch went well, Jean shared about what he was studying in during the last school year, as did you. Your familys just caught up with what had been going on, Jean had adopted two dogs over the past year — which you already knew, he was doing good in school and his studies. You just sat there kind of awkwardly being just an hour or two before you were stalking him and thinking about how hot he was, you were snapped back into reality when his Mom asked you something.
“Have you been with anybody recently?”
“Mom! You can’t just ask her that, we haven’t seen her in years..” Jean whipped his head to the side looking at his Mom.
“No Jean it’s fine, but I haven’t.”
“Oh really? You’re so pretty? I find that hard to believe!” You smiled at her, she was obviously trying to be nice. You all continued eating, Jean paying close attention to his phone.
“Well Jean, have you seen anyone recently?”
“Mom!! Seriously?” You were confused about what your moms were trying to pull off, asking random questions back to back on the same subject.
“Y/N it’s fine. And No Mrs. L/N, I actually haven’t.” Jean stretched backwards, his arm muscles slightly flexing while he did so.
“Hmmm, interesting.. Well, finish up everyone.” You had already finished eating so all you had to do was wait for everyone else to finish. You played that same dumb cooking game for what felt like an eternity your Mom finally tapped your shoulder to get your attention.
“We should be heading out, by the way you two are invited for dinner tomorrow, feel free to come by anytime!” You got up with your mom, waving a goodbye to Jean and his mother. Now you had to endure a car ride most likely of your mother blabbing on about how you should get with Jean, that was something you didn’t wanna think or talk about.
You napped in the car for most of the ride until your phone started to buzz in your pocket, which woke you up from your dazed state. You checked the notification to see Jean had sent you a message.
“Y’know you got pretty hot right?”
“What? Jean thats random.”
“Fuck I mean that in the most respectful way possible.”
“Mkay.” You rolled your eyes, although you could say the same about him you were fond of his boldness but that was definitely a worry for another day. All you were worried about was what you’ll be doing now with him coming over again. Were you going to make a move in the same way he did or ignore his antics completely? And that was the last thought you had before falling asleep again.
#jean kirschtein x reader#jean kirschtein#jean kirstein#jean kirsten x reader#aot x reader#aot#snk x reader#snk#skin. ➷
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Hi! I've seen that in your recent post you've been trying to make characters more gender neutral which I think is awesome! I'm gonna try and make my request gender neutral as well! I was wondering if you could do a criminal minds imagine (I'll let you choose the character that you wanna write it for cus I love Morgan, Hotch, and Reid equally) where the reader was taken by the unsub but they found her right before the unsub tried to (tw) k!ll the reader. If possible can the end be kinda fluffy♡
Spencer Reid x Reader ~ Maybe
Summary: The classic kidnapping fic where the reader is taken by the unsub and Spencer finds them. Fluffy, comfort-filled ending <3
Warnings: Angst, language, violence, blood, guns, knives, torture, near-death experience, kidnapping in general, (happy ending I promise)
Words: 2.2k
A/N: Hey!! I’m so sorry, please don’t hate me for taking so long to get to this!! And thank you for making your request gender neutral, too! That’s so thoughtful and sweet! And I decided to go with Spencer, although I also love them all. And yes the end will definitely be fluffy, as the angst with a happy/fluffy ending is basically my brand at this part. Thank you for requesting and, again, I’m so sorry for making you wait, I hope you like this!
You woke up and could only register pain. Well, pain and cold. Mind numbing, cuts to your bones, pierces your brain, cold. You tried to look around and get a sense of your surroundings but it was so dark; you could barely make out the shadows in the room, let alone any defining details.
Judging by the old, dirty smell, you guessed you were in a barn or shed somewhere. You had no idea where; the asshole must have knocked you out. You’d been working the case for weeks. The team thought they found some DNA and were tailing the guy, but it didn’t pan out and, since then, the trail had basically been cold. But then you finally figured out what number to trace, cracked his encoded router, and got a license plate and ID. George Craig. On your way to tell the team, he had messed with your car and was able to jump you. Fuck, you hated him.
Even so, you refused to give up. You had faith in your team and, most of all, you had faith in Spencer. Your brilliant, gorgeous boyfriend. You loved him more than anything and there was no one in the world you’d want on the case more than him. You knew the team was already looking for you, as it was only 10am when he got you and it was probably at least 7pm now, judging by the temperature and darkness.
You tried to move your arms but your shoulders screamed in protest. You felt the chains around your legs and the handcuffs binding you to a pole above you. Judging from the pain, your shoulder was almost definitely dislocated. You were sitting at an awkward angle and could already feel your joints tightening. The frigid air definitely wasn’t helping, making your muscles contract and body stiff.
“Hello, Agent L/N”
Your entire body stilled at that moment, sheer panic running through your veins. Stay calm, Y/N, stay calm. You tried to will air into your lungs, forcing deep breaths even though the terror was screaming at you to close up. You knew this man fed on fear and, thus, your best chance of survival was to pretend you were unphased. Even so, the logic felt severely discomforting with him standing above you, knife and gun in hand.
“George. What the fuck do you want from me?” Your voice was venomous, the pure hate for him clearly pictured on your face. You decided that if an emotion was going to show, you preferred hate to fear.
“My, my, my, look at you! I thought you were supposed to be smart. Or is that trait left for your boyfriend. Agent Reid, was it?”
Your blood ran cold. “Leave him out of this.”
“Ohhh, looks like I’ve hit a nerve, haven’t I?” The man had a horrifying smirk on his face, clearly enjoying your struggle.
You glared at him. “You never answered my question”
“Oh, yes!” George chuckled, “What the fuck do you want from me?” He said, mimicking your voice mockingly. “To kill you, of course. To take you away from Spencer, from the team. To make them feel the pain of losing someone, just like I lost-”
He trailed off and you saw his eyes burn with anger. And under that anger, you knew there was pain. Even so, you couldn’t feel bad for this man, regardless of who he’d lost. You knew that at the slightest hint of your empathy, he’d take advantage of it and kill you on the spot.
“You know what? Death would be too easy for you. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging me to put you out of your misery. Then, and only then, will I shoot you. I will watch the blood run out of the bullet hole and smile, knowing the pain I caused you and your precious team.”
You wanted to cry, the fear pulling at you. Once again, you pushed it down and channeled your rage. Rage because you were in this situation. Rage because this man had ended so many lives. Rage because you were powerless right now. Rage because holy fuck your shoulder hurt. Gathering the fury, you spat at him.
George’s mouth twisted into a sneer as he brought his leg up and slammed it into your chest. You heaved, the wind knocked out of you. Before you could grasp the air you so desperately needed, George kicked you again. And again. And again. You could feel the bruises forming, your ribs throbbing painfully.
He pulled his fist up and pummeled it into your cheek. Your left cheekbone busted open on impact and your lip split as he backhanded the other side of your face. He slammed the butt of his gun into your temple and your vision swayed, body crumpling as far in on itself as it could, given the restraints.
He kicked at your legs repeatedly, both of them twisting at painful angles. You felt yourself start to black out, the pain unbearable. Every inch of your skin was ablaze, every muscle felt like it had been sledgehammered. Your bones ached, your body numb from his onslaught, the freezing cold, and the restrictive bonds you’d been in for hours.
Finally, he took a moment to stop. He looked at you, at your barely conscious and recognizable state. You were beaten to a pulp, your face and body bloodied and broken. You could feel yourself wanting to give in but forced yourself to stay. For yourself, for Spencer, for the team. For that future you always talked about with him. For the house you were saving for, for the dogs and cats and animals you might one day get. For the family you might decide to have. For the idea of peace, you fought.
George picked up the gun and pointed it at your head. A shot rang free and you braced yourself, a single tear running down your cheek as you realized you would never see your love again. Your ears rang and you felt like time had slowed. You knew the bullet would hit you. Until-
“Y/N, Y/N!” Your name was being called, the gentle yet panicked voice cutting through the ringing in your head. You tentatively opened your eyes and saw George’s body on the floor, blood oozing out of him. You slowly moved your eyes around, trying to take in your surroundings.
Everything was overwhelming. Nothing was registering properly in your brain. It was just sounds filtering in an out, vision flickering. You felt like you were floating through the ringing in your ears. Tears ran down your cheeks as you shook. You didn’t know why you were shaking. The cold. The shock, you reasoned. Both seemed likely. It was like there was an overwhelming sense of calm. Your body was shutting down. Somehow, this gave you understanding.
You felt the handcuffs around your wrists release and your arms dropped limply. You knew you should feel pain from your dislocated shoulder but, instead, you just let your eyes closed and felt your body fall. The last thing you remembered was coming into contact with a Kevlar vest, messy brown hair, and a familiar sense of warmth.
When you awoke, you felt yourself being gently jostled. Your eyes slowly opened and you took in him. Spencer was looking at you, concern evident on his features.
“Hi.” You said, voice hoarse.
“Hi, angel. Let’s get you inside, alright?”
You nodded, allowing him to help support your weight as you stepped out of the car. You leaned heavily into him, your legs badly injured. Spencer wrapped his arm snug around your waist as the two of you slowly but surely made it into your shared apartment.
He helped you sit on the couch before moving to join you.
“I’m surprised they let you take me home. I thought I’d wake up in a hospital, for sure.”
“They did take you there, love. You were at the hospital for a few hours but you were in and out of consciousness. You’ll heal, don’t worry. A few broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, severe bruising, sprains on your legs and ankles.”
“Plus a busted face” You add drily.
Spencer wasn’t amused by your attempt at sarcasm. Instead, he just pushed your hair behind your ear and leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should have gotten there sooner, I should have been with you! If I was there, if I was quicker-”
“Spencer, please don’t blame yourself for this! No one could have known. Besides, you saved me. And I’m not just talking about that in the literal sense. When he was beating me, when I was broken down, I thought of you. I thought of our future, our dream. Holding onto that is the only reason I didn’t give up.”
Spencer’s eyes were filled with tears as he went to gently cup your face. He couldn’t find the words to express the love and relief he felt. “I’m just glad you’re back in my arms”
You moved to hug him but winced. Even though the doctors had patched you up pretty well, the soreness and pain lingered and probably would continue like that for at least the next couple of days.
“Hey, it’s alright. Let’s go to bed. I think you’ll feel better once you lay down, yeah?”
“Yeah, okay.” You followed him into the room, holding his hand the entire time. Spencer noticed but didn’t mind, he knew you were just looking for comfort, exceedingly normal for what you’d just gone through.
You laid down, settling against the pillows and fluffy blankets Spencer had prepared for you.
“Do you need anything, baby?”
“Water?”
“Of course.” He smiled at you before moving to get up but you quickly grabbed his hand, panic overtaking you at the thought of being alone. You looked at him helplessly, hoping your gaze would convey the words that died on your tongue.
Spencer nodded knowingly. He helped you out of bed, pulling you along with him as the two of you went to the kitchen. He wordlessly got you the drink, making sure to keep touching you the entire way. Finally, you made it back and the both of you crawled into bed. You laid on your uninjured shoulder, placing your cheek on Spencer’s chest. His arm came around you, holding you to him and drawing soothing circles into your skin.
You closed your eyes and were immediately sent back to the shed. You tensed, pulling back. Spencer caught on and looked deeply into your eyes. “You’re safe now, Y/N. He can’t get to you anymore.”
“I know. Rationally, I know. But my brain won’t shut off. It’s like, whenever I’m not actively thinking about something else or looking at something else or hearing something else, it just comes back. Spence, I can’t- I can’t sleep. I just, I’m sure it’ll come back to me tonight.” Your voice broke, tears spilling onto your cheeks. “I don’t think I can handle reliving it and I’m so fucking exhausted. But I can’t rest because I can’t escape the nightmares.”
Spencer wanted so badly to comfort you but didn’t know what he could do. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t take the pain away. He wished he could put the trauma onto himself but, unfortunately, he was powerless. Thus, he offered understanding. He gave validation. He gave kindness and pure, nonjudgmental love.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m here for you and I know that doesn’t do much right now but I am. I’ll be here when the nightmares come and I’ll be here when the flashbacks try and drag you under. I’ll be here when the trauma starts to fade but suddenly reappears and I’ll be here 20 years from now, when the memory will still be real and painful but not all-consuming. I’ll be here forever, I’ll be here always. Please, tell me what to do to help you.” Spencer begged, hoping beyond all hope that there was something he could do to ease your suffering.
“Read to me?”
“Wha- what?”
“Read to me.” You repeated, more assured this time. “I’m thinking that if I can hear your voice, maybe it’ll drown out my brain. Or something. I don’t know. I just want to hear your voice, it’s soothing. Please?”
Spencer was taken aback. He didn’t think something so simple could help you. He didn’t know his sheer presence brought you that much serenity. “Yeah, of course. Of course! Yeah, any preference?”
“Not really. Whatever’s here?”
“Okay, love.” Spencer picked up his current read and began in the middle. You felt the rumble of his chest, the vibrations of his voice and felt more at ease. The anxiety was still there, the panic never far away. And yet, curled into him, his breath tickling your ear, his body warming yours, it suddenly felt alright. Like maybe you hadn’t gone through some life-altering trauma. Or maybe you had but your life wasn’t over because of it. Maybe you’d heal. Maybe, if you could find a moment of peace now, you’d find more later. Maybe? Yeah, You thought. You could work with maybe.
--
i just made a taglist so if you want to join, go ahead!
tags:
@saltybreaddream
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagines#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x gender neutral reader#spencer reid x gn!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#megan writes
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congrats on the followers!! you deserve it! i don’t know if I can’t see it/ I’m big dumb and missed it/ someone already asked- but I need a denki weed hc i just know that mf clears a bong like it’s his mf j o b
THANK U SO MUCH MY LOVE ( ˘ ³˘)♡︎♡︎ u didn’t miss it! hehe I just haven’t done it yet
I am fuckin READY for this denks stoner hc, I was born for it, I foam for him, he can literally smoke me up and leave me there greened out & I’d thank him. I’m a grade A: S-I-M-P for stoner Denki, lets fookin go lads
𝐷𝐸𝑁𝐾𝐼
Mister Kaminari the Plug Denki himself, finally. We’ve all established that hes not a regular stoner, he’s the blueprint
Top tier fuckboy stoner to the Tee, will offer girls to smoke them out at his and obnoxiously flirt with them the whole time. His pick-up line’s basically: I’ve got weed at mine, wanna’ come over? (I’d be there yesterday, pussy out)
That being said he doesn’t get pussy all that often, he gets too high & weed dick hits him and cockblocks him like a fuckin truck. He’s learning, though
Ridiculous collection of bongs, pipes, grinders, scales, his whole room looks like a dodgy weed shop where the owner checks out your tits before your fake ID
King of reading girls with the flavoured paper he uses. He may be bad at chatting them up normally, but he’ll know exactly what flavour of Juicy Jay to whip out for you. His personal fav’s mello mango, bcos he likes it sweet and tangy and it matches his eyes. Dumb stupid cheesy romantic.
Has an embarrassing section of pokemon-themed smoking accessorries. His fav & go-to is his massive pikachu bong, and if he uses that bong, he has to use the pokeball grinder. It’s some dumb superstition but he claims it’s his ‘brand’
Once upon a time he tried to light a bowl with his quirk, bcos he thought electricity can somehow generate fire. Idk don’t ask me I failed physics and clearly so did he. Now he just asks Bakugou to light it if he’s not got a lighter with him
Go-to munchies craving is watery mac n cheese or pizza with random chips he can find on it that he’ll dip in peanut butter or nutella. Standard really, no one’s surprised
Flirty high, funny high, giggly high, honestly would sell an organ to get fucking frassed outta my mind with him
Cuddly high too, super touchy esp if he’s with a girl. Will use it as an excuse to cuddle into her tits or her lap, cracks the shittiest jokes where they’ll both laugh at him rather than the joke
Dumb conspiracy theories, can and will chat about literally anything. He’ll smoke up by himself all the time and just put some dumb animal planet shit on TV (or pokemon)
Gets me h* just thinkin bout it but my man clears the bong like it is no body’s business; like it’s his mf day job, night job, and side hustle, all at once. One hit and inhales it all like a fuckin champ. Doesn’t cough, doesn’t flinch, he’s a purebred certified legend. Deffo going down in stoner history.
Rolls the fucking prettiest straightest joints known to mankind, Guinness World Record of the most perfect gd joint award. His pretty dainty fingers are pure magic, he can backstrap with his eyes closed and hands behind his back. Can roll in 5 secs flat. Truly, in every essence of the word, iconique
Indica, sativa, hybrid, shatter, dabs, edibles he’ll do them all, depending on the occasion. Weed pen with THC oil if he’s tryna be lowkey, shatter pen if he’s tryna impress, hits the dab bcos hes a walking talking meme first and a pikachu-hybrid man second.
Prefers weed candy over baked pastry, thinks theyre cuter and more ‘portable’
Summer 2016 rap music, Lil Uzi Vert vs The World, Drake, Rae Sremmurd, shitty fuckboy music. Also has a high sex playlist bcos he’s a beg and he thinks he’s gonna get laid
Hotboxes his dorm all the time, they’ve stopped tryna stop him bcos they realized he’s high all the time anyways, and fears how feral he’ll be if he’s sober
#THIS IS SO FUCKING LONG#IM SORRY#man#i made this post with 3 people in mind#3 specific characters#guess#im sure u can guess#anyways#IN SHORT: denki is the stoner bf of my dreams come raw me into next year <333#god i love him#I LOVE U TOO THANK U FOR SENDING IN MY BOY DENKA#WE KNEW HIS PIKA PIKA ASS IS THE KING OF WEED#sorry these r taking longer than expected bcos my brain juice isnt pumpin like i want it to#:((((#sowwy my loves#thank u for ur patience#<333#denki#420 with baka#more like 420 with baka AND denki
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Not Enough ch.1
Summary: When Jin cheats on his girlfriend while on tour, it's the last straw for their already strained relationship.
Pairings: Jin x OC
Warnings: infidelity | angst | non-explicit sexual acts | breakup fic
A/N: wrote this a little while ago and had it on my ao3. There’s another chapter to this that is queued to go up next week, and I might write a little more for this if there’s a demand for it.
Chapter 2
Sangmi was back in her old apartment. She hadn’t even set foot in the place for months, had thought about terminating the lease since she’d all but moved in to Jin’s place by this point, but now she was glad she’d kept it. The familiarity of it was soothing, somehow. Being surrounded by all her old things, sitting on the couch and snuggled in the same blanket she’d had since college, was more comforting than she’d expected.
Dressed in the oversized varsity sweatshirt that was so worn by now the neckline stretched over her shoulder, she sipped the jasmine tea her mother had sent her. It was warm, slightly bitter, and very fragrant, and she closed her eyes as the steam tickled her nose slightly. She put the mug down and picked up the book that she’d been in the middle of the last time she’d been in her apartment. She didn’t know why, but she hadn’t brought it to his place then, and then she’d just forgotten about it.
She’d forgotten about a lot in the time that they’d been together. He had so rapidly become the center of her world, so consuming that everything else in her life had been pushed out. Meeting him in secret whenever he had a spare moment, coming into the studio at odd hours to make sure he’d eaten, worrying about whether he was taking good care of himself whenever he was away on tour… it had become her top priority.
Well, she thought, opening the book and finding the bookmark that her niece had made for her, no more of that. It was time for her to rediscover herself, as cheesy as it sounded. She was done being stupid for men. Now she would only make shitty decisions for herself.
Her phone vibrated on the coffee table, and after a quick glance at the caller ID, she ignored it. It stopped for a second, and she sighed in relief and disappointment, before starting again. Glaring at it, she silently willed it to shut up. Of course, if she’d had those powers in the first place she might not have ended up in this position, so the phone continued vibrating until it almost fell off the coffee table altogether. Growling, she swiped it up and set it to Do Not Disturb, turning it face down when she returned it to the table, then went back to her book. She was reading a particularly illuminating passage in Michelle Obama’s book about the importance of not getting too caught up in her own life plan, and felt a flash of irritation that she was being interrupted. Just like him to disregard whatever she was doing for his own selfish needs.
Jin sighed. He’d been trying to call her for hours now, and she wasn’t picking up.
“Hyung, give it up. You should leave her alone for a bit, give her some time to cool off,” Namjoon, ever the coolheaded one, advised.
Jin just shook his head. He knew that if he didn’t get through to her before she cooled off, he would never be able to fix it. No one was more scary than his girlfriend after she was angry, when all the rage and tears cooled into contempt, and she wouldn’t even listen to whatever apologies the poor person who upset her offered. It was like all emotion vanished and all there was left was calculated nonchalance.
Hell, it might already be too late.
Jungkook looked over at Jin, but didn’t say anything. He was still furious over what had happened. At the afterparty following their last performance of the tour, Jin had gotten way too drunk over a silly spat that he’d had with his girlfriend, and in his anger, had hooked up with a girl at the party. Somehow pictures of them grinding at the club, then making out at the alley behind the club, had leaked out, and that was how she’d found out about it. From the fucking tabloids.
Sangmi was a literal angel, and she didn’t deserve this. She’d been with Jin since his university days. A year younger than him, they’d been an unlikely couple from the start, with him majoring in film and acting and herself pursuing a double degree in political science and economics, yet they’d been practically inseparable since they’d met at the campus coffee joint, where he was hanging out with her senior from the touch football team and she’d gone to say hi while grabbing a coffee to fuel her last desperate attempts to get a good grade on her paper. (She’d ended up getting an A.)
She was almost like a mother to the other members, especially Jungkook, the youngest, who’d only been a child when she met him. She’d taken him under her wing, brought him food whenever she came to visit, and always let him cry on her shoulder when he missed home. And now, after tolerating Kim Seokjin’s stupid ass for six years, this was what she got in return. He wondered if he would ever see her again, but decided that he’d understand if he didn’t. She deserved to move on with her life, after all.
Three days later
SM: Cut it out.
J: Please, baby, don’t.
SM: Seriously, stop. The roses are cluttering up my desk, and my colleagues are asking questions.
J: Will you accept my apology then?
SM: There’s nothing to apologize for.
Jin winced at the simple reply. If there was nothing to apologize for, that meant that they were no longer in a relationship. She’d never been the kind of person to hold on to anger. Instead, she simply wrote the person off, dismissed them altogether from her life. He’d always thought her anger was the worst thing he could encounter, when she screamed and cried herself to pieces, but at least then she’d cared enough to have an emotional reaction. This casual, nonchalant reaction was worse, like he was just someone who’d bumped into her by accident on the street.
J: Baby, please let me explain.
There was no response.
Two weeks later
Sangmi made her way up the stairs of her walkup apartment unsteadily, tipsy at the end of the night. Her colleagues had invited her for their usual Friday night festivities, which had included karaoke on this particular night. She’d never joined them before, because Friday was usually one of the only nights of the week that Jin had free so she’d saved the night for him, but she was glad that she’d agreed to join them. It had been a hell of a time; she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d gone for karaoke.
The past two weeks had been spent reconnecting with friends, rekindling old relationships that had somehow fallen by the wayside while she’d been with Jin. It wasn’t like she’d disappeared from her friends’ lives, but Jin had been her priority for so long, and her schedule had revolved around his. There had been so many birthdays and celebrations that she’d missed because they’d fallen on one of the rare free days he’d had, plans she’d cancelled because he’d suddenly become available and she didn’t know when she’d next be able to spend time with him.
Even living in his apartment, there had been days when all she saw of him were the dent in his pillow, the missing food in the fridge, and his clothes in the laundry hamper. It was like being in a relationship with a ghost sometimes.
Rounding the corner at the top of the stairs, she stopped short in surprise. Jin was sitting in front of her door, leaning against the wall, his tall frame looking cramped in the narrow hallway. He was on his phone, and when he heard her approach, he looked up at her and scrambled to stand up, tucking his phone in his pocket.
“Hey,” he breathed. He’d had speeches prepared, entire monologues where he poured his heart out to her and begged her to stay, but standing in front of her now he forgot them all.
She nodded at the door behind him. “I have to unlock the door,” she said quietly.
“Right, right,” he said, jumping out of the way nervously.
Sangmi unlocked the door and walked in, not turning to usher him in but not locking the door in his face either. She started taking off her shoes, her back still facing him.
“Well?” she asked when he just stared at her. “In or out?”
Jin hastily stepped into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. Sangmi went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, then turned to face him, leaning her hip against the counter.
“You’re here because…?” she prompted when it didn’t look like he was going to say anything.
Jin hesitated. Now that he was looking at her, he didn’t really know what to say. She looked amazing, better than he’d seen her in a long time. She’d faded so slowly that he hadn’t seen it at the time, the vibrant and cheerful freshman he’d first fallen in love with gradually becoming dull and colourless. Her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol and even though she was solemn and quiet now, her eyes sparkled mischievously in a way that he barely remembered.
“Mi, baby, I’m sorry.” The words tumbled out of him.
Sangmi refilled her glass and then walked over to the couch. Ever the consummate hostess, it wasn’t lost on him that she didn’t bother offering him anything to drink. “What are you sorry for, exactly?” she asked, reclining on the couch as she regarded him steadily. “For being imprudent and getting caught? For not warning me before the pictures were leaked?”
He was taken aback by how calmly she was discussing his infidelity. “No, I meant -” he tried to explain, but she cut him off.
“Are you sorry that you cheated on me?”
Hearing her express his transgression in such blunt terms made him cringe, but he nodded, suddenly unable to look her in the eye.
“This one time, or are you apologizing for all the times before that the media didn’t catch too?”
His jaw dropped as his eyes jerked up towards her, her brow raised but otherwise calm. “You… you knew?” he sputtered.
Sangmi smiled at him sadly. “Come sit,” she invited, patting the couch next to her, and he drifted over obediently, still in shock. When he sat down, she rested her arm on the backrest, her chin resting on her hand, and looked at him.
“Of course I knew,” she said with a quiet smile. “Who do you think washed all the perfume and lipstick from your clothes?”
His mouth worked, but no words came out.
She rolled her eyes. “Stop being so dramatic,” she said. “Of course I knew. You’re away for months at a time; it would have been too much to expect you to remain faithful. I know you, remember?” She reached out and stroked his face with her thumb.
“Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t like it. It would have been nice to be the only one, you know? But we’re apart for the majority of the time these days, and we both have our own ways of coping,” she said, with the ghost of a smile. “That’s why you left a string of broken hearts in every city you were in, and I have a collection of sex toys that’s way too large for a woman who’s been in a six-year relationship,” she cracked.
Jin didn’t laugh. “Then why did you -”
“Stay with you?” She shrugged. “Because I love you. Because I thought this would be temporary, that we could still eventually have the kind of relationship, the kind of life together that I want.”
“Then what changed?”
Sangmi hummed thoughtfully. “I think this incident was more of a tipping point rather than a dealbreaker event. When we were in college, it was fine keeping our relationship as is, you know? Like, marriage and settling down and all that stuff - it was all future stuff, to be sorted out at a later date. But now that I’m working, and - oh, by the way, I was assigned to that big project, did I mention to you? - people around me are settling down, it feels like something we need to think about, and I don’t think it’s working anymore.
“Jin-oppa, I love you.” She leaned in and held his face, the precious face she’d loved for so long, that girls all across the world had fallen for, for perhaps the last time. “But love isn’t enough for a long-term relationship. I want to be with someone I can be with , you know? Who I can come home to at night, tell about my day, have regular sex with, and not have to think about who else he slept with while I wasn’t there. I want to get married and have a boring relationship, walk out on the street holding hands with like I’m not a dirty, career-ending secret, and have Netflix binges with while in my glasses and sweatpants. And that’s something you’ll never be able to offer me.”
He looked like he was about to object, so she pressed her thumb lightly against his lips so he couldn’t speak. “Don’t offer things you know you’ll never be able to follow through on. You won’t, and shouldn’t, quit BTS for me. I know how much you love it, and I would never ask you to make such a huge sacrifice for me. You should live your life on your terms, but I should be allowed to live the same way too, and more and more these days, it looks like we can’t do that and be together.”
She smiled, forcing back a sob, and then she was suddenly in his lap, hugging him tight, and out of habit his arms wrapped themselves around her too. “I love you,” he whispered, the words suddenly feeling woefully inadequate. He’d never felt more selfish, hadn’t realised the toll that their relationship had taken on her. She’d always been the rock in the relationship, the one who had been there for him no matter what, who’d held him as he cried after messing up on stage and let him fuck her silly in the bathrooms at award shows when they’d won. He realised that he couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone out at night without him and returned a giggling, pink-cheeked ball of fluff like she’d been before they’d become official, like she’d been tonight before she saw him.
And he knew, more than anything, that he had to let her go, that his love alone wasn’t enough to sustain her.
Sangmi stroked his hair as he buried his face in the crook where her shoulder met her neck and breathed in, the perfume he’d bought her at an airport once that had become her signature scent blending with the smell of the liquor she’d consumed and the scent of her . “I met you when the world was full of possibilities, and we didn’t know who we were. Remember?” she asked with a smile in her voice. “How we thought we could be anything, take on any challenge the world threw at us?”
But then they had become something incompatible. Him, the jetsetting idol who captured fans’ hearts with his worldwide handsome face, and her, the management consultant in a big 4 firm who could strike fear into the hearts of colleagues, subordinates and clients with a raised brow. She needed more than he could give her now, and possibly ever.
He turned and kissed her, desperately, knowing that this might well be the last time he ever did. To his surprise, she kissed him back just as ardently, her arms tightening around him as she pulled him closer.
Pulling back slightly to take a breath, she leaned her forehead against his. “One more for the road?” she asked, giggling as she ground down against him slightly.
That was all he needed to hear. He immediately picked her up and made his way to the bed, with her clinging on to him as she marked his neck the way she knew he liked. It wasn’t what he wanted from her, but maybe it would be enough. It had to be, he thought as he set her down on the bed and she immediately attacked the buttons on his shirt. He would be satisfied with this, he swore to himself. If it was what made her happy.
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Chapter3
I apologise for taking so long to post chapter 3, but this story is pretty personal to me and I didn't think it would have been so hard for me to write it honestly.
→ MASTERPOST
During the two weeks’ vacation in Florida, Beca and Chloe really meet each other and get a lot closer. Beca has to deal with Aubrey and some other known faces, along with new ones, which causes her a lot of social anxiety.
This chapter is accompanied by various old songs so it’s a bit of a throwback (:
Words Count: 8.9K
Rating: T
Warnings: Underage smoking, drinking and mention of sex
Read it on AO3 or under the cut ↓
Summer after high school
(When we first met)
1st of July 2010
As soon as they arrived to the hotel Beca wanted to go back home. Aubrey was already getting on her nerves, bitching about how much she hated the place. Like if Aubrey wasn’t enough already, Chloe had brought with her Tom and Stacie, so the group was now formed by four people other than her and Chloe – way too many for Beca’s liking – and on top of everything, the other guy of their group was super creepy and started hitting on her in the most disgusting way.
“Bumper leave her alone, she’s off limits” intimated to him Chloe and Beca smiled at her thankfully.
“This place sucks! There’s literally nothing here!” kept dramatically complaining the blonde.
“Why didn’t we go to Miami as always?” wined Stacie.
“Apparently this shithole is the only place Sheila’s new husband could afford" answered Aubrey with disgust “oh- sorry" she fake-apologized to Beca, Chloe glared at her but didn’t say anything.
Beca wasn’t quick enough to think about a comeback that Bumper added “It’s incredible how they could find the only place in Florida with nothing to do! Why do they hate us so much?”
Beca was actually glad there wasn’t much to do and, even if she planned to stay in her room the whole time, avoiding as much as possible socializing, she had to admit the place was nice; the beach looked amazing and it was right in front of their hotel, which had a swimming pool and a spa too, so she didn’t really know what the others were complaining about.
“I hope I will find some chicks anyway" she heard Bumper say.
“As if anyone would date you” dismissed him Aubrey.
“Who talked about dating?” he retorted.
“You’re so gross" hissed the blonde.
“Aw Aubrey, I know you only say that because you’re jealous” he lamented “but you know I see you as a sister... unless...” he trailed off and Aubrey almost gagged at that.
“in your dreams".
__Sometimes I get so weird, I even freak myself out
After leaving their things in the respective rooms and freshening up Beca was forced to go to the beach with her father and Sheila.
“Once we’ve figured out the place, you will be allowed to go around on your own" he explained.
“Dad, the beach is literally on the other side of the street" she complained.
Beca didn’t bother to put on a swimming suit since she was sure she would have been back in her hotel room right away to work on her mix – she was wrong.
They got on the beach and walked to their assigned spot, where they had two sunbeds and a sunshade.
“okay, can I go now?” she asked impatiently
“Honey, why don’t you stay here for a while? It’s so nice" suggested Sheila and Beca just rolled her eyes at her, sitting on the hot sand besides one of their chairs and putting her headphones on.
Beca noticed Chloe playing volleyball in the water with the others and found herself hypnotized by her; the way her arms and body moved swiftly to hit the ball, the way she smiled. Beca was sure, if she were to remove her headphones, she would have been able to hear her melodic laugh.
The teenager froze when she saw Chloe noticing her. She quickly lowered her eyes and fixated them on the sand but was still enough aware of Chloe to know she was getting out of the water and walking her way. When she was close enough, Beca looked up again lowering her headphones. Chloe didn’t bother to get a towel and Beca's eyes couldn’t help but follow the droplets of water running down Chloe’s body.
“Aren’t you getting hot?" Chloe asked making Beca’s face go bright red.
“no... I-what?” babbled Beca shaking her head. Chloe chuckled at that and sat down on the sand next to her.
“why are you still fully dressed?” she questioned, and Beca released the breath she was holding in.
“I don’t want to swim” she simply said, without giving the redhead much to continue a conversation.
“The others wanted to go explore this place, to see if we can find something to do, you wanna come with us?” she offered gently.
“Nah, I’m good" declined Beca.
“Okay".
Chloe got up and started walking towards her friends when she suddenly turned around “I’ll see you tonight then" she said smiling and Beca’s heart felt warm.
The brunette was still looking at Chloe when she saw Tom reach out with a hand and shamelessly clean the sand from her toned ass, making it bounce a little. Beca had to look away.
“Okay I’m gonna go back to the hotel" she announced, leaving before her dad could answer anything. She spent the rest of the day working on her mix.
“So... Beca, right?” asked Stacie not waiting for an answer “we’re going out tonight and you’re coming with us" she ordered. Beca instinctively looked at Chloe, who smiled brightly at her “it’s gonna be fun, I promise” added the tall brunette with a wink. Beca found herself walking to the beach with the rest of the group, Chloe never dropped Tom’s hand – not that she was paying attention to that.
Beca froze when she noticed a bigger group of people waiting for them. She really wasn’t good at dealing with many people at once.
“Hey guys, this is Beca" introduced her Chloe “Beca, these are Jessica and Ashley. They come here every year, so they know every corner of this place" explained the redhead “She’s Flo...”
Beca zoned out while Chloe was introducing her to everyone, she knew she wouldn’t remember any of their names anyway, and which one was Ashley again?
“...and he-" continued Chloe, gesturing towards someone attached to Stacie face. Beca reconnected to the situation just in time to see Luke grinning at Chloe “is Luke. You should know him, he goes to our school” before Beca could decide if she wanted to say that yes, she knew him, Luke smiled at her.
“Of course! I gave her a fake ID. Becky, right?” Beca faked a smile awkwardly.
“it’s Beca actually” corrected him Chloe.
The brunette barely said a word through the whole night. Ashley and Jessica took them to an old forsaken pier, where they stood chatting and drinking beer. Beca thought it was pretty dangerous to drink in the dark on a tiny strike of cement in the sea, but whatever.
“At the end of this pier there is an old dismissed firehouse, everything is dark around it" said Ashley.
“it’s the best place to watch shooting stars" added Jessica.
“that’s amazing, we must go one night!” gasped Chloe excited.
Beca was desperately trying to find something to say, but the more she tried the more her brain got stuck on every little thought, without being able to express any of them. She felt weird, it was like nothing she came up with was good enough to say it aloud; everything sounded too stupid or too lame to interest all those people.
“Oh my god, Beca would you shut up for a second? You’re filling my head with words” complained ironically – and over dramatically – Aubrey, making almost everybody laugh.
“Aubrey!” scolded her Chloe.
“what? It was a joke, she didn’t say a word all night, that’s weird" complained the blonde grinning.
Beca was spiraling and she even considered to tell the group she was tired and run away from the situation when Luke suddenly took out a joint “does someone smoke?” he asked to the group before lighting it up.
“Sure” she answered, glad to have something to calm her nerves just a little.
“You smoke?” gasped Chloe, making Beca’s anxiety hit a new high.
“I… no, I mean yes- just sometimes. Is that a problem?” she found herself babble, as if she had to give some kind of explanation to anyone about that.
“She hates when I smoke” cut in Tom blowing the smoke out of his mouth, before passing her the joint.
Beca took a deep puff thinking that she would never smoke in front of Chloe after she told her it bothered her – if she were her girlfriend, of course – but Tom didn’t seem to have a problem with that.
“It not a problem” softly giggled the redhead “I just don’t like the smell”.
On their way back to the hotel, all Beca could think about was what a waste of time it had been to go out instead of working on her mix. The night was somehow even worse than she had expected, and she was feeling rather nauseous for all the anxiety it changed her with. Socializing is the fucking worst.
Suddenly she felt Chloe’s hand slide into hers, so she looked up at her – she had slowed down to walk next to Beca at the end of the group.
“So, fake ID, smoking pot… maybe I should stay away from you?” joked the redhead.
“Oh yes, I’m such a bad influence” scoffed Beca immediately cringing at her own words.
“How are you?” Chloe gently asked in a way more serious tone.
Beca swallowed hard “I’m good" she lied.
“You know, Aubrey isn’t as mean as she seems, she’s just really insecure and thinks to look stronger taking others down" she explained – that’s not an excuse thought Beca – “she does that with Bumper too" added the redhead squeezing her hand.
“Yeah, it’s okay, I don’t mind" assured her Beca trying her best to smile.
__
The next day Beca put on some shorts and her bikini top, but still sat the whole morning under her sunshade with her iPod, watching the others play.
The group seemed to have begun official, since they were all having fun together, even Luke was there. He and Stacie seemed to be very intimate, the guy didn’t waste any opportunity to playfully swipe her up in his arms and every time Stacie made sure to let her hands linger on his muscular arms or his toned abs.
The brunette took her phone to message Amy, who texted her the night before asking how the situation was, but Beca was too socially exhausted to answer at the time.
Beca:
Your Luke is here too. The guy is RIPPED!
Amy:
:Q_______ don’t make me jealous T_T
TALK TO HIM ABOUT ME!
Beca:
You know I don’t talk to people.
I think he’s hooking up with Stacie btw :/
Amy:
Aw fuck! <\3
Beca:
Anyway, the situation is balls! I hate everything about this fucking vacation!
She also got an SMS by Jesse that made her roll her eyes, but smile nonetheless.
Jesse:
I miss you too btw <3
Beca:
Shut up.
“Who are you texting?” asked Chloe peering over her shoulder “Jesse..." she answered herself “is he your boyfriend?” Beca instinctively locked her phone and put it away.
“What? No. Absolutely not, he’s not" she hurried.
“okay...” answered Chloe in amusement “boys only send me hearts when they want to date me though" she insinuated “and you told him you missed him"
“I didn’t, that’s the point” gasped Beca “he just assumed on his own" she complained.
“I think you like him" teased the redhead.
“I so do not” stated Beca blushing.
“Whatever, your face says otherwise. Come play now, you’ve sat here long enough" ordered Chloe and Beca found herself obliging.
“I don’t like him!” she repeated letting Chloe drag her towards their friends.
__Please take me away from here ‘Cause I feel like such an insomniac
On the 4th of July they organized this big bonfire on the beach, to see the fireworks and then spend the night there with lots of alcohol, drinking games and a stupid midnight swim – totally recommended to get eaten by a shark.
Beca was particularly grumpy the whole day, she couldn’t believe she was really going to spend the night with all those people she barely knew, after having spent the whole day with them already. She allowed herself to stay in the hotel for a little longer that morning, telling her father and Sheila she had a headache and would have reached them soon.
Beca was chilling under her sunshade when she noticed Chloe approaching her and lowered her headphones around her neck.
“Sheila told me you weren’t feeling good this morning, how are you now?” she asked and Beca could sense she really cared, for some reason.
“Yeah I’m feeling better now" assured her Beca with a small smile.
“Awes! So you’ll still gonna be with us tonight, right?”
The brunette rolled her eyes at that, she really couldn’t understand why Chloe cared so much about her going with them at this stupid party. “Yes, Chloe I’ll be there" she promised hating herself for not being able to say no to the redhead.
“Now come, we’re playing beach volley” added Chloe dragging her by the arm.
Beca could barely leave her iPod and headphones inside her sun bag, that was thrown in a match with Flo and Bumper against Chloe, Tom and Aubrey.
The brunette hated any kind of physical activity, but there was something about beating Aubrey – and Tom – that sparked a fire in her. She still found herself rooting for Chloe somehow, so she couldn’t find it in herself to strike the winning point and let the ball pass her. They won anyway because Flo saved it and Bumper finished the action crushing it at Tom’s feet. The look on Aubrey’s face was priceless.
“Did you miss that on propose?” joyfully accused her Chloe when she went to congratulate them for the win – she was the only one of her team to do that, since Aubrey was still yelling at Tom how big of a delusion he was.
“What? No!" she lied “now can I go listen to my mus-"
“Nope" interrupted her Chloe “now we’re swimming!” Chloe said taking her hand and Beca let the redhead drag her in the water, where Ashley, Jessica and other guys Beca couldn’t remember the names of, were waiting for them.
Shortly after Stacie and Luke reached them informing the group everything was set for the night.
After watching the fireworks Beca was ready to head home – she was ready to head home way before that – but Chloe convinced her to stay, offering her a solo cup with vodka mixed with something super sweet. It was gross but Beca drank it anyway – liquid confidence.
She was on her second drink when Stacie suggested to play ‘spin the bottle’ and everyone eagerly agreed. Beca didn’t, but she didn’t want to draw attention on her, being the only one who didn’t want to play.
“Okay the rules are simple" started Bumper with a serious voice, once they all sat around the fire “on your turn you spin the bottle and kiss whoever it points to. No exceptions or you must pay a pledge” he uselessly explained, since everybody knew the game. Beca hated this game.
“Girls don’t hold back. Specially if you’re kissing another girl, we all want to see that!” he added with a perverted smile on his stupid face.
Beca started feeling sick, she started to think about what she would have done if she had to kiss Tom or, even worse, what if she had to kiss Chloe? She didn’t want that to make things awkward and ruin what could become a good friendship between them.
The first one to spin the bottle was Flo – Bumper’s victim for the day apparently.
Bumper groaned loudly in disappointment when the bottle landed on Luke and the two shared a short kiss without losing too much time.
Beca’s heart was beating way to hard in her chest.
“This game is stupid, I’m out of here" she blurred out before getting up.
“Oh, come on! Worried your nerdy boyfriend would be jealous about it?” teased her Aubrey. Beca straight up wanted to tell her to go fuck herself, but she didn’t – for Chloe, obviously.
“He's not my boyfriend” she said leaving.
“Beca hey, wait” called after her Chloe following her. When Beca was positive they were far enough from the group, she slowed down and let Chloe reach her.
“What happened?” asked the redhead with those soft eyes Beca could clearly see, even in the dim light.
“Nothing happened. It’s a stupid game" she repeated “and I don’t want to kiss most of the people sitting there anyway so what’s the point?”
“so there’s someone you do want to kiss!” pointed out Chloe. Beca’s stomach twisted at that “who is it?”
“Is it Luke?” she hazarded when Beca didn’t answer to her.
“That’s none of your business” growled the brunette, starting to walk away again “don’t follow me" she demanded.
Beca couldn’t sleep that night and she couldn’t even work on her mix as she used to most nights, she was too preoccupied obsessing over the fact that she was rude to Chloe for no reason. She just really wanted to go back home.
__
The next day Beca didn’t want to go to the beach. She was sure Chloe hated her and didn’t have the guts to face her. She knew she had to, she needed to apologize to her, just like she did with Jesse before leaving for this hellscape.
“Dude, can we talk for a moment?” asked Beca before their chemistry class started.
“What for?” asked Jesse. Beca guessed she deserved that.
“Look, I’ve been an ass okay? I was stressed out and took it out on you" she tried, but she knew the guy wouldn’t give in so easily “I like having you around, you’re like the only one I actually like having around. I miss you dude, I’m not good at this but school is not the same without you being my friend"
Jesse sighed loudly “okay weirdo, I’m gonna let this one go, but next time you pull something like that we’re done.” He threatened “now, what did you say about missing me?” he teased with a smug smile.
__Thinking to myself, hey isn't this easy? And you've got a smile that could light up this whole town
When Beca finally found the courage to go to the beach she even forgot to bring her headphones, busy rehearsing the speech she had prepared to apologize to Chloe.
She totally didn’t expect to find Chloe sat on the sunbed next to Sheila’s, waiting for her. Beca gulped and slowed down, her heart started racing and her hands were sweaty.
“Hey, Chloe... uhm" she cleared her throat, her speech suddenly disappeared from her memory. Chloe looked at her using a hand as a shield against the sun, that still passed through, forcing her to close one eye.
“Hey! You finally decided to join us huh?” she beamed at her and for a moment Beca thought her smile was brighter than the sun. Chloe wasn’t mad at her apparently, so Beca sighed sitting down next to her.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I was waiting for you" simply said the redhead.
“What about the others?” “they went surfing". Beca furrowed her brows at that so Chloe added “I’m on my period" “oh" was all the brunette could answer.
“I was thinking we could listen to one of your playlists, but I see you don’t have your iPod” said Chloe pouting a little.
“I- I actually have it. I just forgot the headphones”.
“Oh, you girls can use mine" offered Sheila smiling at them and Beca felt very confused at that.
“No, don’t worry, there’s no need to" tried Beca but the woman insisted, so Chloe took the white wire she was offering.
“I’m going to put my feet in the water" excused herself Sheila.
Beca plugged the earphones in and gave one to Chloe, who adjusted herself on the lounger she was sharing with Beca – even if there was an empty one next to them now. Beca pressed play to her ’09 – ’10 playlist. It didn’t take long for Chloe to take charge of the device and start go through the tracks.
“Oh my God, can you listen to one whole song?” groaned Beca, Chloe kept constantly skipping through songs.
“Sorry" chuckled the redhead “okay, I promise I won’t skip this one" she said when ‘When Love Takes Over’ started playing.
“I didn’t think you listened to this stuff” Chloe quoted her and Beca smiled biting her bottom lip “it’s so different from your other playlists”
“I’m trying new things recently. I like the beat; David Guetta is really talented” she explained.
It was so easy to be with Chloe without all those annoying people around them, Beca loved the way Chloe went through her playlists and the smile she had while they discussed music made Beca feel all warm inside, or maybe it was the fact that they were basically laying on top of each other in the small sunbed, both wearing nothing but their swimming suits, with so much skin on skin contact. Beca was just actively not thinking about that.
Beca tried not to read too much into it when Chloe declined Tom's invitation to sunbathe together – that totally meant “come make out with me for a while” – telling him she’d rather stay there with Beca, but when the redhead turned even Aubrey down, a small pleased smile made its way on her lips.
“Ugh Chloe, you’re really boring when you’re on your period” complained the blonde in front of everyone and Beca furrowed at her “dude, what’s your problem?” she asked and felt Chloe grab her arm “don’t” she whispered before getting up “I’m coming” she sung following Aubrey.
__Oh, her eyes, her eyes, make the stars look like they’re not shining
That night they decided to go to the abandoned lighthouse. The path was so dark they had to use their phone screens or lighters to see where they were placing their feet.
“You could have told us to bring some flashlight or something” commented Stacie.
“Yeah, you’re right… sorry” apologized Ashley.
“Okay, what now?” asked Aubrey crossing her arms around her middle, when they reached the end of the pier.
“We… lay down and watch the stars” answered Jessica, trying her best to maintain her smile in place – she was clearly struggling with Aubrey’s attitude – so Beca decided to back her up.
“Sounds great to me” she said laying down.
Chloe was the first one to follow her and decided to use Beca stomach as a pillow, making her gulp. Beca didn’t even notice how much Jessica appreciated her gesture, because she was focused on not breathing too much and bother Chloe someway.
One at a time, all the guys laid down beside them, in a Tetris way; each of them was using a part of someone’s body as a pillow – except for Beca, who only put her crumpled hoody under her head – The brunette noticed Tom resting his head on Chloe’s tights, just where her short summer dress ended – they totally had sex already – something about that, incredibly bothered her.
“You guys aren’t going to do it while I’m your pillow, right?” she joked awkwardly and Chloe giggled looking up at her “Don’t worry, we’ll behave” she assured her with a wink that made Beca’s insides melt.
The starry sky was beautiful, the stars shined so brightly in the dark surrounding them that they could spot several shooting stars. Beca was finally enjoying herself; no interactions, no Aubrey – she was somewhere far from Beca and was finally shutting up – if Beca focused hard enough she could pretend it was only her, the stars and Chloe. It felt so good to have the redhead lying comfortably against her, she let her right hand gaze Chloe’s arm, it wasn’t Beca’s fault, it was just their position.
What she didn’t expect was for Chloe to reach out to take that hand and hold it on her own stomach, Beca froze for a moment at the feeling of Chloe’s fingers intertwined with hers, even if that wasn’t the first time.
“Ugh! I’m so bored” wined Aubrey, making Beca almost groan while she rolled her eyes.
“Yeah me, too” agreed Stacie “if we don’t do something now, I’m gonna fall asleep”.
“We could sing something!” suggested Chloe, but the others completely ignored her suggestion.
“Isn’t there a club or something?” asked Tom sitting up.
“Yeah, I wanna dance with some hot girls” exclaimed Bumper getting on his feet.
“Well, there’s a crappy disco club, but there are mostly old creepy men there” hesitantly admitted Ashley.
“Anything would be better than doing nothing here” stated Aubrey getting up.
Beca noticed Chloe huffing and she spoke without thinking “I’m cool staying here, if you want to stay” she whispered to Chloe. The girl suddenly started to sweat, her heart racing.
“Would you do that?” asked the redhead in disbelieve and Beca smiled at her.
“Of course, dude”.
Chloe turned to the others, now all on their feet, waiting for them “You guys go, we’re staying here” she informed them. Tom crouched down to hover over Chloe’s face “you gonna be okay?” he asked and she nodded smiling at him. The guy gave Chloe a quick kiss goodbye before leaving with the others.
Beca was in her head. She thought she had to say something, not to make things awkward, but for some reason she couldn’t stop thinking about Tom; about the fact that, if Chloe were her girlfriend, she would have never left her to go clubbing – if it was up to her she would have stayed there with Chloe stargazing her whole life.
Chloe shivering brought Beca back to reality, she quickly reached for the hoody under her head and offered it to her “cold?”
“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t want to take it from you” declined it Chloe shivering again.
“Shut up, you’re shivering!” stated Beca putting the hoodie on Chloe as a blanket.
“What if you get cold too?”
“You are my blanket” Beca heard herself saying and she widened her eyes.
“Fair enough, but if you get cold, you’re getting it back” intimated the redhead, and squeezed Beca’s hand, she was still holding under the hoodie.
“Okay” agreed Beca – there was no way she would take that hoodie back from her.
“So… your parents let you sleep with Tom?” Beca asked out of the blue.
“Absolutely not” laughed Chloe “officially, I share my hotel room with Stacie. But he has his own room”. Beca bit her tongue for asking – yup, they were definitely doing it.
“Have you ever been with someone?” asked Chloe as if she could read Beca’s mind, it made Beca choke on air and it took her a few coughs to blur a simple “no”.
“What about Jesse?”
Beca rolled her eyes at that “I told you, he’s not my boyfriend” she repeated annoyed
“Stacie says the same about Luke” informed her Chloe and Beca snorted.
“I don’t l-”
“you don’t like him, okay” sighed Chloe “but I think he likes you”.
Beca fell silent for a moment, contemplating that. “It is possible, yes. But does it really matter if I don’t like him back anyway?”
They weren’t staring at the stars anymore; Chloe had turned on her side to look at Beca more comfortably and Beca felt like she was drowning in those ocean blue eyes.
“No” said softly Chloe “but you could like him and not knowing. If Aubrey wouldn’t have told me Tom was into me, making me consider the fact of dating him, we wouldn’t have been together for almost two years now” she added. Beca frowned, could she really feel something for Jesse without knowing it? – she had to admit, she was rather clueless regarding her own feelings. “But maybe that’s not your case” shrugged Chloe.
“You’re different” blurred out Beca and Chloe gave her a questioning look “from the girl I met at dinner” she clarified looking away, suddenly looking at Chloe was too much for her.
“Yeah, about that” sighed the redhead “I owe you an apology, I was kind of a bitch” she said screwing up her face.
“I think you made up for that” Beca chuckled “why did you act like that though?” she asked.
“it’s just that… my parents, they are…” she railed off, so Beca looked at her again “I don’t really like them, or their friends- sorry”.
“Oh no, trust me, no one likes Sheila less than me” scoffed Beca.
“But she seems nice to you, I think being with your father changed her”
“I think she’s just faking it for him” answered Beca, feeling rather uncomfortable talking about her.
“Trust me, I would notice that. I’ve known her my whole life” assured Chloe.
“Why don’t you like your parents?” Beca asked, desperately trying to change the subject.
“They’re just two selfish snobs, who only care about the appearances. Everything must look perfect on the outside, when the truth is that they don’t care about me at all-”
“How can that be true?” interrupted her Beca, genuinely finding it impossible for someone not to care about Chloe.
“They only care that I don’t embarrass them. So I put up with their façade in public, but I ignore them at home.”
Beca found herself squeezing Chloe’s hand in empathy, sensing the deep sadness behind her words.
“I’m sorry I ignored you too, to me you were only Sheila’s new kid” apologized Chloe “and I always ignored her too”
“I’m not her kid” clarified Beca, feeling uneasy “and you said that like if I was a new pair of shoes” she scoffed.
“No oh my god, of course. I- sorry, I didn’t mean it like that” rushed out Chloe “you’re so much more than that, Becs”.
Beca didn’t know if she blushed at that, but she knew for sure that her heart started racing again, so she cleared her throat to dissimulate it “why are you so kind to me all the times?” she asked, genuinely curious about that.
“why not?” asked Chloe smiling and Beca just laughed shaking her head.
“Why are you Aubrey’s friend then?” inquired the brunette. Chloe huffed loudly and Beca feared she overstepped – Aubrey was her best friend after all.
“We grew up together…” she started unsure “I don’t have memories of a time when I didn’t know her”.
Beca could understand that, even if she and Amy had opposite personalities, she grew to love her through time, so she figured it was the same thing for Chloe – Amy was way better than Aubrey though.
“I know she seems awful, but her parents are way worse than mine” continued Chloe “they put on her so many expectations, it’s so much pressure that I don’t know how she doesn’t crack under it” Chloe stopped to clear her throat “if she doesn’t reach their standards they call her a failure, she’s just a teenager!”
The girls talked until 2am before Chloe declared she was tired, so they went back to the hotel.
“Thank you” said Chloe taking off Beca’s hoodie and giving it back to her
“No problem” answered the brunette smiling gently “goodnight”
Her hoodie smell like Chloe now and Beca didn’t stop to wonder why she liked it so much, but she did. She made a mental note to always bring it along, just in case Chloe might need it again.
__My heart it pounds, yeah you got me
Beca wasn’t surprised when the next day Chloe spent more time with Tom, what surprised her was that she joined the group willingly and spent the day with them without hating it. She was pleased to notice that after a few days of knowing these people the effort she had to put in to socialize wasn’t that big anymore, things were starting to feel natural.
They decided – Aubrey decided – to go back to the club that night and Beca really hated the idea. She didn’t dance, no matter how hard Amy had tried, Beca decided that dancing just wasn’t for her.
“That place sucks so bad” said Aubrey for the millionth time and Beca was bold enough to ask her “why are we going then?”
“Because there’s nothing else to do in this fucking place” spat out the blonde rolling her eyes.
Beca found herself isolating again when they started a singing game where one player started singing a song and, on your turn, you had to sing another song starting by one word of the song the other player was singing. If you don’t sing on your turn, you lost.
Beca was close enough to hear them and had a song ready for each turn, she couldn’t help her smile when Chloe started to sing the same song she thought of. When Bumper interrupted her to keep the game going, Beca found herself missing Chloe’s voice for a moment and decided to distract herself not to think about that.
“Why don’t you come playing with us?” asked Chloe, making her jump; the brunette didn’t notice Chloe approaching her.
“I don’t sing” she blurred out.
“This is not a singing contest, it’s just a game. I know you would be very good at-”
“Chloe would you come play? Forget about her” scoffed Aubrey “she’s just being a weirdo as usual”.
Beca sensed Chloe tensing up, she knew the girl was ready to fight Aubrey about that, but she stopped her hushing out a quickly “don’t worry” before getting up from her beach towel “it’s not worth it” she added leaving.
It was shortly after dinner when Chloe showed up at her hotel room “You forgot this on the beach today” she said gently handing her the towel.
“Oh, thanks” answered Beca taking it with a smile and starting to close the door.
“Wait” stopped her the redhead pushing against the wooden surface “can I come in?”
“Sure” said Beca moving out of the way “if this is about what Aubrey said, I’m okay” she assured.
“It isn’t” said Chloe “I mean, yes that too, but mostly I came here to get you ready” she beamed out showing her the beauty case she brought along.
Beca arched an eyebrow “what for?” she asked slightly scared.
“for tonight”
“I’m not coming” scoffed Beca.
“Yes, you are! Beca please, we’re gonna have fun! Do it for me?”
So Beca found herself sitting on a chair in front of the mirror, with Cloe fixing her hair with a curling iron.
“Why do you care so much if I come to this stupid club anyway?” asked Beca struggling to stay still with the burning hot weapon so close to her head.
“I just enjoy your company” Chloe said casually “is it that hard to believe?”
“No, I guess” lied Beca – it was the most impossible think to believe for her, that someone like Chloe wanted to waste her time with her. She was obviously just being nice to the weird kid because she was a nice person.
Beca spent most of the night sitting on a short wall next to the dancefloor, if one could call it that; the ‘club’ was more a bar stand with a large space – probably a dismissed caravan parking site – they put a console, some speakers and stroboscopic lights in. the only good aspect was that they served alcohol without asking for an ID, but the place was depressing and the Dj sucked.
Next to Beca there was Lily – a girl of their group Beca never heard speaking, but who still interacted more than her – who didn’t feel like dancing either apparently. Beca didn’t talk to her, she kept sipping at her Rum and Coke in silence. Beca was definitely not watching Chloe dance against Tom, the way she dipped low and grind against him after rising back up, he was slowly moving behind her, eventually grabbing her hips or bending over to kiss her cheek, neck or anything he could find.
If you ask her, Beca couldn’t tell how, but when she saw the group come back from the dancefloor, she knew Aubrey was about to tell her something stupid, convinced to be extremely funny.
“Wow Beca, you’re really having fun tonight huh?” she teased and the brunette just snorted at her, more bothered by the terrible work the ‘Dj’ was doing than by the cheap comments Aubrey could come up with.
She vaguely noticed Just Dance started playing. The mix she just finished making was ten times better than what they were listening to. For a moment she fantasized about taking control of the dj boot and play it, she had it in her iPod after all. Chloe taking her hand brought her back to reality.
“Let’s go dancing!” screamed Chloe, probably because she’d been dancing too close to one of the speakers, tugging at her arm.
“I don’t dance”
“Of course, you don’t” chuckled Chloe “come onnnnn” she whined.
“I don’t even like this song” tried Beca, putting down the empty solo cup she was still holding.
“Liar, I know you love this song, it’s in your playlist!” called her out Chloe “come dance with me, please”
Beca couldn’t resist that smile, her heart started racing; the brunette knew in that moment that she was doomed – she would have done anything Chloe had asked her.
Beca let Chloe drag her in the middle of the dancefloor and felt a shiver when the girl didn’t drop her hand when she started dancing. Beca was frozen, she had no idea what to do, she was the only idiot standing still, but couldn’t convince her body to start moving.
“Dance!” laughed Chloe, gently shaking her by the hand.
“I don’t know how to” she confessed.
Chloe moved impossibly close to her face and Beca’s breath got caught in her throat.
“I’m gonna tell you a secret” whispered the redhead “nobody does” she said winking “just move with me”
Beca thought she was going to pass out when Chloe reached out to gently place her hands on Beca’s hips, bringing their bodies together, to rhythmically move against each other. Having the other girl so close made her heart beat unsafely fast. Eventually she started moving on her own to dance with Chloe; the way Chloe pushed her head up, sometimes running her fingers through auburn hair, was unfairly sexy. For the first time Beca didn’t second-guess what was going on; she just kept on dancing, resting her forearms on Chloe’s shoulders. The way Chloe’s looked oat her took her breath away; she blamed it on the alcohol and the loud beat, on the endorphins formed in her system because of all the dancing – probably everybody felt this intoxicated while dancing with someone – everything was normal.
__ She is like a melody in my head That I can't keep out
The rest of the vacation was a blur to Beca. Maybe it’s true what they say about time running faster when you’re having a good time. Beca wouldn’t say she was actually having a good time, she still hated hanging out with people she barely knew and had pretty much nothing in common with – and most of all she still hated Aubrey – but the small moments she got to spend with Chloe were enough to get her by.
Those times Chloe choose to sit on her lap instead of the empty seat that was too far from her, or when she randomly took her hand or started lightly brushing her fingertips on her harm in that relaxing way – that did everything but relax Beca, if she was honest – or even the casual touches, those Beca wasn’t even sure Chloe did on purpose. Those moments were all Beca could think about. Chloe was all Beca could think about.
It wasn’t unusual for them to listen to Beca’s iPod together while eating lunch or while the others went jumping from the riff; something that Beca found very funny, but that Chloe hated, so Beca decided to pass on that too, just to spend more time alone with the redhead.
“What is this?” Asked the redhead scrolling through the songs “Beca-mix_1"
Beca’s eyes widened and she jumped to take the iPod from Chloe, but she was too slow, and swallowed hard hearing the first notes of it playing in her ear.
“Did you make this?” asked Chloe in shock.
“Yeah...” shyly admitted the brunette.
“Beca this is amazing!”
“You like it?” asked Beca in disbelief.
“I love it!” gasped Chloe in awe “Beca, you’re so talented!”
“I- thank yo-"
“Did you make others?”
“No, I mean yes, but they’re crap. This is the first one I liked enough to save it" explained Beca scratching at the back of her head.
She had never let anyone listen to her mixes – not even Amy – and she’d never thought Chloe of all people would have been the first one to hear it. For some reason Chloe’s opinion meant the world to her, and the fact that she liked something she made, gave her a weird kind of high she’d never experienced before.
__Feels like I’ve waited so long for this, I wonder if it shows
One night, after they said goodbye to the others, the core group decided to stay up until dawn instead of going to sleep, so they sneaked Luke – who always walked Stacie to the hotel to steal one last kiss – in and went on the roof of the hotel, that was full equipped with chairs, sofas and sunbeds. Beca opted for a hammock, while the others were gathering their seats in a circle-like form next to her.
“Scoot" intimated her Chloe wanting to fit on the hammock with her, but Beca didn’t move. “fine, I’m just gonna lay on top of you then" threatened the redhead trying to climb on the hammock and risking flipping it.
“Okay, okay. Jesus!” laughed Beca making room for Chloe next to her.
“Do you two need a room?” joked Stacie.
“I’m totally on board with that babe!” added Tom laughing.
“Who told you you’re invited?” teased Chloe with a smug smile.
Beca knew they were all kidding, but she couldn’t stop her face to turn bright red and her heart to beat so fast she was afraid Chloe could feel it hammer against her chest.
“Beca you wanna smoke?” asked her Luke lighting up yet another joint.
“No thanks, I’m gonna pass" she declined, for Chloe obviously; she didn’t want to bother the redhead, since she knew the girl couldn’t stand the smell of it. Beca didn’t know if she was hoping that Chloe noticed she was doing it for her or not, but when Chloe turned to whisper to her “it’s okay if you wanna smoke, it doesn’t bother me" she felt her stomach flip.
“Aw Beca, your alt girl days are ending already?” mocked her Aubrey.
“Aubrey why don’t you try smoking a little? It will relax you! And while you’re at it you can also try getting off my case for once?” she spat out.
“Woooooah" cheered Bumper and everyone – except for Aubrey, obviously – started laughing.
It didn’t take long for Chloe to fall asleep, Beca had put her hoodie on the both of them as a blanket and made sure not to raise her voice too much while laughing and chatting with the others. After a while the group started to run out of energy; Tom was checking his phone, Stacie and Luke were just making out and Aubrey was busy convincing Bumper that nothing would ever happen between the two of them.
Beca took the opportunity to lose herself in her thoughts; in the fact that, even if she’d always hated physical contact, to have Chloe sleeping cuddled up on her felt so nice. She didn’t want to elaborate the feeling, nice was enough for now, it was too soon to let her mind analyse the way her body felt warmer every time Chloe as much as looked her way, or the way her heart beat out of time. It was too dangerous to get an answer to why that happened to her every time Chloe was around.
She noticed the guys decided to go to give up, too tired to wait for the sunrise, and she decided to pretend she was asleep, not ready to give up laying there with Chloe yet.
“Chlo, come on, we’re going to sleep" tried Tom, but the redhead didn’t give him any response, other than a soft snore.
After a few minutes of trying, Aubrey got annoyed “let’s just leave them" she said, “I’m going to bed" and left.
Beca heard Tom standing there pondering the situation for a moment, before deciding to leave too.
The morning after Beca was awakened by the sun burning hot on her face; that and the hoodie worked together to generate an uncomfortable heat, making them both sweat. A soft groan escaped her, she didn’t mean to really fall asleep, she just wanted a few more minutes before waking Chloe up and going to their respective hotel rooms.
They had shifted during the night and Beca soon found out that she couldn’t move without waking Chloe up some way; the redhead was half on top of her, using her shoulder as a pillow and their limbs were intertwined. Beca’s left arm – the one laying under Chloe’s body – was numb, but somehow Beca didn’t hate any of that.
Chloe’s smell surrounding her and the weight of the girl on her made Beca feel things she’d never felt before. If it was anyone else, Beca would have rung for the hills, but there was something different about this girl, something special, that didn’t scare her. If anything, it made her feel brave.
Beca didn’t realise her hand was on Chloe’s hip, until the girl shifted beneath it while turning around, she turned too much and Beca had to catch her before she fell down the hammock. The brunette knew it would have given away the fact that she was awake, but she figured that falling down the hammock wouldn’t have been a really nice way to wake up.
“Nice catch" mumbled Chloe rubbing her eyes, still a little shook for her almost fall “were you awake?”
“Yeah I just woke up" confessed Beca “I couldn’t move though”.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” asked the redhead still half asleep – she looked adorable.
“I don’t know, it seemed rude" laughed Beca.
__ I'll hold on to it, don't you let it pass you by
The last day of vacation came way too soon. Beca spent the day with a heavy feeling on her stomach, due to the awareness that everything was ending. Back in Atlanta things won’t be the same as they were now, they were going back to reality, a reality where Beca can’t spend every day with Chloe listening to music and just being.
It was bittersweet to see her same gloom mirrored in Chloe’s behavior; it felt nice to know that Chloe was sad about giving up what they had now, but that only confirmed Beca’s conviction that everything was about to change for them.
The evening went by in the blink of an eye and the group was finishing dinner in the big hotel’s dining room.
“Are we going to stay up tonight? For real I mean" asked Tom chewing the last bite of his steak.
“Of course we are, that’s our last night" answered Bumper “but we have to sneak in everyone this time, I know Florencia will give in tonight" he added making the others roll their eyes.
“Leave that poor girl alone, she doesn’t know how to tell you anymore, she’s not interested” spat out Stacie.
“That’s the point, she doesn’t know how to say no anymore, so she might say yes" he explained wiggling his eyebrows.
“Ugh, dude that’s fucked up!” groaned Beca pushing her plate away.
“Are we going to sneak in some booze too or we gonna behave?” asked Chloe biting her lip.
“We’re obviously sneaking some alcohol in, Chloe. I can’t stand those idiots when I’m sober" scolded her Aubrey.
“Ugh true” laughed Stacie, igniting a general laugh.
This was one of the things Beca couldn’t stand about this group, they were always talking shit about people behind their backs and pretend to like them when they were around. It wasn’t even true that they didn’t like them, they just needed to be assholes sometimes and make fun of other people. Even Chloe let herself get involved in their behavior – something she had to do to adapt to the group, for sure – and that was probably the only thing Beca didn’t like about her. Beca was sure they did the same thing with her too and the thought made her feel sick.
That night there was an unspoken agreement between the girls, to keep Flo away from Bumper for as long as they could; he was harmless, but all of them knew how annoying he could get and they didn’t want Flo to give in just to make him stop – even Aubrey seemed to care about that and did her part.
As soon as they got to the roof, they rushed to find a seat.
“Becs, come sit with me?” suggested Chloe gesturing towards the hammock and Beca felt her stomach do that flip she was used to by now.
“No way!” shouted Bumper “the hammock is mine tonight! Miss Fuentes, care to join me?” he said all charming after occupying the hammock.
“She won’t. She’s sitting next to me" ordered Aubrey patting the empty chair next to her sofa, as if she was calling a dog.
Flo sat down next to her whispering a hushed “thank you".
Chloe ended up sitting on Tom’s lap and Beca curled up in a sofa a couple of seats from them.
They decided to play ‘never have I ever’ and Beca thought she was winning when she realized she hadn’t done most of the things they were mentioning; she only drank once when Chloe said “Never have I ever smoked pot".
She learned a lot of things she didn’t care about but that Amy would have loved to know; she learned that Aubrey got blackout drunk and spent the night with her face in the water, that Luke was actually pretty good in school and that Stacie – and Bumper apparently, but no one really believed him – was in a threesome once.
When it came her turn, she smirked devilishly, convinced that what she was about to say would have made everyone drink – something nobody succeeded with yet – “Never have I ever… kissed someone” she proudly declared.
The group fell silent for a moment.
“What?” spat out Aubrey suddenly, unable to keep her laugh in anymore.
“You can’t be serious” added Stacie shocked.
“I mean we can make up for that if you want, we have Bumper who would kiss anything as long as it moves" chuckled Aubrey.
Beca stood there while everyone was laughing at her, she didn’t know what the hell made her think it was something to brag about – to be 16 and haven’t kissed anyone yet – she felt her eyes sting, she knew she was about to tear up, but was trying to hold back with everything she had, she couldn’t give them any more reasons to laugh at her.
“I don’t think it’s funny" said Chloe.
“Come on babe, you have to admit it is a little funny" said Tom still giggling.
It made Chloe stand up from his lap and turn around to glare at him “okay, whatever, it’s not funny" he agreed, trying to get her to sit back on his lap, Chloe angrily freed her hand from his grasp and walked away from him, towards Beca.
“Can I sit with you?” she asked gently.
“Sure" quickly answered the brunette trying to make as much room as she could for Chloe to sit next to her.
“I don’t wanna play this game anymore” she declared.
“Babe I’m cold, come back here" complained Tom.
“You know I can’t stand you when you act like an asshole”.
It didn’t take long for Chloe to curl up into Beca while they were listening to one of Flo’s weird stories. Beca wasn’t listening to her at all, she was focused on the feeling of having Chloe curled up on her for the last time in who knows how long.
When the sun started rising, Beca felt there was something final about it. Her last sunrise with Chloe. It was like time was slipping from her hands and there was nothing to do about it.
“Shouldn’t we clean up this mess?” asked Chloe when the guys started to say goodbye to each other.
“People are paid to do it, Chloe” told her Aubrey in her usual smartass tone.
Beca had an earlier flight than the rest of the group because her father had to be back in Atlanta sooner, so she had to say goodbye to Chloe at the hotel, while the others got to take her same plane. Beca awkwardly waved the group goodbye before pushing her suitcase in the back of the taxi and when she turned around Chloe crushed into her, hugging her tight.
“Have a safe flight" she whispered in Beca’s ear.
“Yeah you too" told her the brunette pulling back from the hug with a soft smile.
When she climbed into the taxi Sheila was looking at her proudly “I told you, you were gonna become friends" she all but beamed.
“Whatever” huffed Beca before putting her headphones on. She felt bad about being rude to Sheila – that’s a first, she thought – but it lasted for almost five seconds, before she turned around to see Chloe waving her goodbye from the sidewalk.
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Making Circles - Month One
Square(s) Filled: Fake Marriage for @spngenrebingo
Warnings: Case angst, being fake married to Dean, feels, mentions of death
Summary: Dean and Y/N have to pretend to be married for a case. But this isn’t any ordinary case. Married couples have gone missing from Albert Lea, Minnesota, every six months for the last few years but there is almost zero evidence. People don’t just disappear like that do they? With Bobby and Sam’s help, plus an ally in their new town, they have just under six months to figure it out. Chances are they’ll survive the case, but will their friendship survive their fake marriage?
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 2342
Written for: @spngenrebingo
Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, who says the nicest things and makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside and also keeps me on a straight line. I heart you! And @alleiradayne for letting me bounce ideas off her, like all the time.
A/N: This will be six chapter series, one for each month of the case, plus a bonus epilogue. Loosely based/inspired by the song Making Circles by Christian Kane and I just felt this needed to be written. There will be lyrics dispersed throughout the entire story. I hope you love this as much as I do. The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!
Making Circles master list
Month One
“So get this,” Sam started as Dean and Y/N entered Bobby’s kitchen early one morning. “I think I found a case.” Sam turned his laptop around so they can both see the details.
“You sure this is our kind of thing, Sammy? I don’t know man. This looks pretty normal as far as I can tell,” Dean grumbled, taking a seat.
“What else did you find Sam?” Y/N asked, turning her attention to Sam.
“Well, there have been disappearances going back a few years. Every six months or so another couple is murdered. All of these couples seem normal with blue collar jobs and homes, but from what I was able to dig up, nothing out of the ordinary,” Sam explained. “All the homes of the missing couples have been combed over, but all the evidence is at the Bureau of Criminal Apprehension (BCA) in Saint Paul and they have a mammoth backlog. We may not know anything for months, even years. Or possibly never. It isn’t exactly high priority, ya know?”
“You idjits better get a move on,” Bobby addressed Dean and Y/N as he poured a cup of coffee.
“Bobby, we’ve got basically no intel. We have no idea what we’re hunting and you want us to walk in there blind?” Dean argued with his surrogate father. “That’s not smart. Besides, why does it have to be us?”
“Oh, you want me and Sam to pose as happily married couple?” Bobby smacked Dean across the back of the head.
“Dean, it only makes sense. Y/N and I get along too well and it would be weird, pretending to be married to a woman I view as my sister,” Sam made a face at the thought.
“Dean, we’ve got time. From this report, the last couple went missing just a week ago. That gives us almost six months to figure it out,” Y/N reasoned as she rose from the table, a smile on her face. “I’m going to go shower and pack.”
An hour later, Y/N and Dean sat with Bobby at his kitchen table, Sam having gone out to produce some documents. “Now, I’ve made some calls to a couple of friends in the area. Dean, Jake has a job ready for you in his shop Monday morning. Y/N, I’ve got something lined up for you at the County Library. Here are the keys to the safe house. My cleaning lady should have it ready to go for you by the time you get there and the cupboards should be stocked.”
“Bobby, I don’t like this,” Dean shook his head. “We have no idea what is going on here.”
“Your brother and I aren’t going to let anything happen to you idjits. I got too much time and energy invested in ya to just let you vanish,” Bobby groaned. “Now, there’s one more thing. Two really. Here.” He handed Dean a small box.
Dean lifted the hinged lid, finding two gold rings inside. The pit in his stomach expanded, knowing these rings belonged to Bobby and his wife Karen, whom he had to kill when she became possessed by a demon. The old man never fully recovered from that. “Bobby…”
“This ain’t no time for sentiments, kid. Just take em, okay,” Bobby stomped heavily from the room, the screen door slamming behind him, making Y/N jump from the sound.
“I guess here goes nothing. Mrs. Winchester?” Dean took out the smaller ring and held it up for Y/N to put her hand out. The ring slid easily onto the fourth finger of her left hand. Dean slid Bobby’s ring onto his own finger. It felt heavy on his hand, or maybe it was just heavy on his mind.
Sam returned a few minutes later with the papers they needed, along with new identification cards. “Here are your clean ID’s and marriage certificate. The house is listed in Bobby’s corporation, so that is not a problem. He also set up a joint bank account in both your names, well, new names. This is your proof of insurance and Y/N, there will be a vehicle parked at the house for you. A very unassuming Honda Civic.”
“A foreign car, Sam! Really?!” Dean protested.
“Actually, Honda manufactures models right here in the U.S., Dean,” Sam informed his brother.
“No way my real wife would drive a Japanese car,” Dean mumbled as he looked over the rest of the documents. “Wait...our new last name is Hetfield? Awww Sammy, it makes me all tingly when you remember the little shit.”
“Shut up Dean,” Sam said, turning to Y/N and handing her all the documents. “Safe travels. We’ll be in touch.”
~*~
“Jesus, I have driven a lot of miles over the years, but this is boring as fuck. There is literally nothing but farmland.” Dean pointed out for probably the tenth time in the last two hours. Y/N thanked her lucky stars that they were almost there.
Albert Lea, Minnesota was less than a three hour drive from Bobby’s place. It was close enough that he and Sam could get there quickly if she and Dean needed back up. With any luck, they would figure out what they were dealing with, and they wouldn’t be here long. On the other hand, six months of normal sounded like heaven to Y/N right now after the last few years.
She turned on her GPS as they entered town, programming the address Sam had given her. Within minutes, they pulled up to a quaint, craftsman style home with a long driveway and impeccable landscaping. Dean pulled into the driveway, cutting Baby’s engine.
“Did you know Bobby owned this place?” Dean looked at Y/N.
“I knew he had a couple of safe houses, but I thought they were all like Rufus’ hunting cabin. Not this. This is going to be like living in the lap of luxury compared to the motels we’ve slummed it in,” she chuckled softly, opening her door and getting out of the car.
Dean followed quickly, opening the trunk to grab their bags. “Motels? Shit, this place is even nicer than Bobby’s. I bet we won’t even need tetanus shots from walking around the yard barefoot!” He laughed, slamming Baby’s trunk shut.
They carried in their bags, not having much from living a life on the road, and walked up the front steps to the door. “Mrs. Hetfield, do you have the key?”
“Why yes, Mr. Hetfield. Allow me to do the honors,” Y/N smiled as she took the key and unlocked the door. Dean dropped his bags and scooped her up in his arms, despite her protests. He walked through the door and set her down on a comfortable looking recliner. “Dean!”
“It’s tradition to carry your bride across the threshold!” He told her, grabbing their bags from the front porch.
They took their time exploring the home. There were three bedrooms upstairs with one full bathroom. The updated kitchen had a small island and new appliances. The basement was fully finished with two small bedrooms and another full bathroom. Y/N grabbed two beers from the fully stocked fridge, as promised, and met Dean in the backyard. There was a two car garage, housing one newer model Civic and a large assortment of tools. It had everything Dean would need to maintain both cars. There was also a small shed in the corner of the yard which contained a lawn mower and a variety of garden tools and supplies.
“Wow, Bobby really set us up, huh?” Y/N turned to Dean as they sat on the double swing on the back patio. It was was a beautiful home and yard. Y/N looked forward to working in the garden, making a mental note to grab some books on the subject.
“Yeah, he did,” Dean sighed heavily, finishing off his beer. “I’m going to go take a shower.”
“Okay. I’m going to run into town and pick up some clothes for work. Do you need anything?” Y/N asked, taking his empty bottle.
“No, I think I’m good. Thanks,” Dean declined, holding the door open for her.
Y/N couldn’t help but see Dean was hiding something, and she knew him well enough by now to see the subtle differences. She decided to let it go for now. It had already been a long day with having this situation thrown at them and the drive. It would take some adjusting on both their parts. She set out in her car, exploring the town a little, finding a couple of diners, coffee shops and a thrift store. She picked out a few new things for Dean as well as a new work wardrobe for herself. Making a quick stop at the butcher shop, she picked up a couple of steaks as well as stuffed burgers, wanting to do something nice for Dean, and well, the man appreciated red meat.
Y/N let the steaks sit out while she started a load of laundry. Dean ambled into the kitchen just as she was putting together a quick salad, the potatoes baking in the oven. “Hey. Thought we could grill, I picked up a couple of Porterhouses.”
“That sounds great. I’ll go get it ready,” Dean acknowledged and slipped out the back door. A few minutes later, she followed, carrying the steaks and a couple of beers, handing one off to him.
“I know we got a lot thrown at us today, but we’re going to get to the bottom of this, Dean,” she tried to reassure him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I promise.”
“We never go into a hunt blind, Y/N. I don’t care if we have six fucking months or not, this ain’t right, and they both know it, too!” Dean snapped and immediately regretted his words, seeing the look on her face. “Hey, I’m sorry. I know you’re stuck in this, too.”
“It’s okay. We’ll get through this together, Dean. It’s what couples do,” she stated, like it was the most simple thing in the world.
“But we’re not a real couple, Y/N. I’ve never been in a real relationship before, not really, and never like this. This apple pie life we’re supposed to live? We’re used to living a lie on the job, but long term? I don’t know.” Dean sighed heavily, turning the steaks on the grill. “I just don’t know.”
Once dinner was ready, they ate in an uncomfortable silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Y/N thinking of ways to help Dean see the positives and Dean working the case in his head, running through the list of monsters he knew and which one could be responsible for the married couples’ disappearances.
Monday arrived quickly, Dean taking off early for his new job at the garage, leaving without so much as a goodbye. Y/N felt her heart continue to sink, and it was only the third day. She readied for work and packed lunches for both of them. She had enough time to swing by the shop on her way to the library.
Y/N pulled up to the garage and stepped out of her car. She walked across the small lot and inside the lobby.
“Good morning, Miss. What can we help you with today?” An older gentleman, about Bobby’s age, greeted her. He was wearing grease covered overalls and a smile on his face.
“I’m Y/N, here to see Dean W-Hetfield please,” she caught herself, covering her slip with a cough.
“Are you the missus? You’re a pretty lady. Dean really out punted his coverage with you, didn’t he?” the old man chuckled, adding a wink. “I’m Jake. Pleased to meet ya.”
“Yeah, I guess he did,” she laughed along with him, knowing Jake already knew their secret and had given Dean this job as cover.
“Hetfield! Yer lady’s here!” He yelled through the door to the service bays.
Dean walked in a few moments later, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. She had seen him work on Baby, and numerous cars in Bobby’s yard, but seeing him now, shed a whole new light on him. This Dean, the one she was fake married to. The one that lived a normal life with a normal job and a wife and a house. She pushed down the simmer in her belly and walked up to her ‘husband,’
“You forgot your lunch, babe,” she smiled, handing him a brown paper bag.
Dean opened the bag, seeing two turkey and bacon sandwiches, chips, an apple and a can of Coke. “Thanks, honey. I guess I was preoccupied.”
“Have a good day. I’ll see you tonight,” she stepped closer and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. She waved at both of them, exiting the shop. “Nice to meet you, Jake!”
And thus began the routine of her bringing Dean lunch at the shop every morning on her way to work. By the fourth day, she invited Jake over for dinner that weekend. She hoped it might put Dean at ease, having someone on their side locally that knew their real story and he didn’t have to fake it around Jake because of the others in the garage.
Saturday morning rolled around and Y/N had done her shopping, picked up the house and made a pie while Dean mowed the lawn and slow smoked a brisket on the grill. She was settling into their new life fairly well but Dean was having trouble adjusting. He came home late most nights and ate his dinner standing up at the small island.
She didn’t know where he was when he didn’t come home straight away, but the smell of stale smoke mingled with his own scent of coffee, leather and motor oil. At least it wasn’t cheap perfume, she thought. At least this Dean, her fake husband, was faithful to her.
The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean @dolphincliffs @mrswhozeewhatsis @meganwinchester1999 @cherrycokegirls1 @closetspngirl @roxyspearing @flamencodiva @blacktithe7 @sis-tafics @just-another-busyfangirl @evansrogerskitten @amanda-teaches @hannahindie @wotinspntarnation @winchesterprincessbride @winecatsandpizza @kickingitwithkirk @wi-deangirl77 @hobby27 @mogaruke @gh0stgurl @paintrider13-blog @hunterscabin @alleiradayne @idreamofplaid @squirrelnotsam
The Dean’s List: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @dean-winchesters-bacon @maddiepants @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @supernatural-jackles @docharleythegeekqueen @adoptdontshoppets @mtngirlforever
#spngenrebingo#dean winchester fan#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean x reader smut#dean x reader angst#dean x reader fluff
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Permanent Ink \ 2 // kth
a/n: Im now on spring break!!! Well it technically starts on march 4th and ends the 10th, but anywayssss that means more updates. This is a little shorter than the first part, but id call this a filler! I hope you enjoy!
I RECOMMEND LISTENING TO THE SONGS I SAY IN THE STORY FOR FULL EFFECT!
Main Masterlist~
( Permanent Ink ) masterlist~
WARNING- um sensual dancing
word count: 3k+
__________________________________
Taehyung unlocks his front door and enters his apartment. It was the smallest thing he has ever lived in. But he didn't mind it at all, in fact, he loved it. It was easy to clean, and it was only him, so he didn't feel as alone. He went into the bathroom, wanting to take a shower and go to bed.
As he was towel drying his hair, he quickly pulled on some underwear and some sweats. He went to his fridge for some water and he sits down on his bed so he could roll up a joint before he went to bed.
As he finished licking the paper, there was a quick knock at the door. Taehyung sighed and set his rolling tray down next to him and get up. He looks down at himself noticing that he was shirtless. But at this point he could care less. He wents to the door and opens it up. When he sees who it was, his face dropped even more than it already was.
“Sinsi? Why are you here?” He asks, his voice was laced with irritation. She rolls her eyes at his attitude and pushes her way inside.
“You could at least try to sound excited to see me.” She says setting her purse down on the bed.
“How can I, when you literally annoy the hell out of me.” He says shutting his door and finds his spot on the bed again.
“Shut up.” She frowns and sits down next to him.
“Like I said, why are you here?” He grabs his lighter and sparks the joint up.
“Why do I always come here?” She says in a duh tone and looks around his home. “I mean come on, I wouldn't come to this shoe box for anything.” She stands up and starts to take her jacket off. Taehyung just laughs at her sass, more like scoff and smile at the same time.
“I like you better when I've fucked you speechless.” He mutters and hits the joint. “Speaking of fucking you, how’s the fiance?” He asks sarcastically. He always mentions him when she comes around. After all she left Taehyung for him. BoGum.
After her family found out that she was dating a ‘poor artist that lives on the street’, they made her choose. Taehyung or to continue to be supported. Which meant to continue to spend her parents money. She come to Taehyung one day, he thought she chose him. But instead she was there to say that, even though she loved him, she can't give it up.
But that was two years ago. It was a year ago when she was forced to marry Bogum. She came running to Taehyung, not wanting to marry him. Next thing they knew, it was morning and they were both naked. The next day she found out that if she and Bogum got married then she will be the co-owner of a high end fashion line. She then knew she couldn't leave Bogum. In fact she fell in love with him, but she was still stuck on Taehyung's dick.
“He thinks I'm at the shop right now. I have a hour.” She says. Taehyung nods taking another hit and then putting the joint out.
“Alright, lets go.” He says standing up. She comes right up to him trying to connect their lips. But he tenses up and doges it.
“You know I only kiss the girl I love.” He whispers, a frown settling on his face.
“I miss your kisses Tae.” Sinsi pouts and tries again, but Taehyung just shoves her down making her laugh as he crawls on top.
Your launch was a success. You've never thought about what the outcome would really be like other than a total fail. You didn't think that two hours into the clothing drop everything would be sold out. Only so much was made, but you of course had more coming. It was only available online, but you soon hoped to have your own stores.
Rowan was currently working on planning a party for you. It was going to be tonight, and instead of thinking about what you will be wearing, you were focused on inviting Taehyung. You go to his instagram page and click on the number options. You knew that it was to make a appointment, but you were lowkey desperate. You couldn't get him out of your mind, and it was your mission to at least kiss him.
“Vante’s Tat Shop, How many I help you today?” A deep voice enters your ear. Your heart started beating really fast when you recognize who it was.
“Taehyung?” You ask, really hoping it was him.
“Um yea, do we have a appointment?” He says confused.
“Uh no actually. This is YN.” You say, “ I was wondering if you wanted to come to my party tonight. I just recently dropped a clothing line, and it did really good, so we are throwing a celebration.” You say quickly. You cross your fingers hoping he would say yes.
“Where is it?” He asks after a slight pause.
“The club two doors down from your shop. I rented it out for the night. I just posted something about it, so it should be like a normal night at the club.” You say over explaining, you were so nervous. You had mixed feelings about this whole situation. You hated the nervous feeling he gave you. You wanted to never talk to him again but yet marry the man.
“Are there free drinks?” He asks after you were done. Actually it wasn't, it was still the bars price.
“For you, sure.” You say. You quickly put the phone on speaker and text Rowan to put him on the list of VIP, which include free drinks. You then take him off and continue speaking.
“I just put you on the VIP list. Come if you want. I'm sure there will be weed as well.” You say. Your heart was beating in your ears. But you felt relief when he spoke.
“I guess it will be a surprise.” He says then he hangs up. To say you were worried was a understatement. But you take a deep breath and focus on getting ready, because you didn't want to focus on him the whole night, just for him not to show up.
You look at the time and see that you have three hours until you had to arrive. You then wondered if he knew what time it started. But then again his shop was only a few doors down, i'm sure he will know.
You quickly got into the shower and you washed your body and brushed your teeth. You got out and put your lotion on. You put on a all black bra and underwear set. Then you braid in some weave to your hair, creating two long braids. You then did your makeup, and put on your outfit.
After you finished getting ready. You take some picture in your full body mirror and you make sure they were cute before posting it to instagram. After you did, you got a text from your driver that he was out front. You quickly put some sneakers on since you were going to a club and you grab your phone and wallet and then you left.
You met up with Rowan at the back entrance. You were immediately taken to the VIP section, it looked over the whole club, giving your perfect view of the DJ, and whoever was performing.
You walked over to the balcony, watching as everyone was dancing to the music, drunk out of their mind. The DJ, did his thing, and started talking.
“And, the amazing YN YLN. Let's give her a loud cheer, congratulating her on her success!” The DJ yells and points up to you causing the crowd to erupt in cheerings, and going even crazier when they seen you. You couldn't really see everyone, but you could tell some of them have some of your clothes on. You wave back down with a huge smile on your face.
You go back into the VIP area and people one by one came up to you, congratulating you and wanting to take pictures. Most likely to post later.
“YN.” Rowan runs over to you. You quickly hug her since this was the first time seeing her tonight.
“Hey, this party is awesome, I'm happy you could get it together in such a short time.” You say looking around. She smiles.
“Yes, I know right. When i mentioned your name to the club owner, they were excited because the knew you would bring customers. There's a huge line outside still.” She says pointing towards the normal club area.
“Are you serious? It's literally packed though.” You say shocked. She laughs.
“Exactly! But anyways, they need you out there.” She says grabbing you hand and pulling you along.
You were so confused until the security guard opened the door and you seen Taehyung standing there with a irritated look on his face.
“What’s wrong?” You look between the security guard that was letting people in and Taehyung.
“I understand that Mr. Kim is on the VIP list, but his other two friends are not.” The guard says. You look back and see Soobin from the shop and other girl behind Taehyung.
“Hi YN! I'm Sinsi, i'm Taes friend.” Her hand slipping into Taehyung's didn't go unnoticed. “I'm a really big fan of yours. When Tae said he was invited to your party, I just had to come.” Her voice was filled with excitement, but you couldn't help but to cringe.
“You just had to, huh?” You ask raising a eyebrow. She looked confused. But Taehyung quickly pulled you to the side.
“Hey, she's just wanting to have a good time. I didn't think it would be a problem.” He shrugs.
“What do you mean not a problem? Do you not see the line outside of the door? The club is packed Taehyung. The VIP are my close friends and the people I work with. A place where we can enjoy ourselves, and walk around without worrying about bumping into someone we don't know. I don't know this girl. That's the problem.” You say crossing your arms.
“You barely know me.” He explains. He was getting more and more annoyed, he should’ve known not to bring Sinsi, but then again he doesn't understand the problem of one person.
“That's different, and you know that. I literally trusted you to put a tattoo of your choice on my body.” You sighed. You weren’t going to get anywhere with him acting like this. “I can get her into the actual club and she can get free drinks.” You turn to walk away, not wanting to ruin any actual chance you had with him with your loud mouth. But he grabs your arm again and pulls you back. He itched his neck and sighed once again.
“Fine, Ill tell her she can't come.” He says and walks away back to his friends. You roll your eyes and watch as Sinsi pulls Taehyung away with Soobin behind.
“Hey Soobin!” Rowan yells out. He stops and looks back. She waves him over and he smiles slightly telling Taehyung something and running up to us.
“Yes?”
“Tonight, you are mine!” She giggles and she pulls him inside.
You eventually had few drinks, not really drunk, but buzzed enough to want to dance. It seemed like everyone around you had someone else. Rowan had Soobin, they were now dancing together. Your other friends had their boyfriends or just found someone period.
But you, you sat in a booth, with a glass of brown liquid. You couldn't stop thinking about Taehyung. You wished he was ugly so you wouldn't think of him. But since Sinsi couldn't come in, he wouldn't either. You weren't used to not getting someone you wanted, so now you really wanted him. He clearly knew you wanted him, and he hasn’t completely rejected you, which gave you a little hope.
“Come on, why are you sitting here upset. Let’s dance.” A voice says, your head shoots up to see a good friend.
“Where’s your boyfriend Jinnie.” You smile at him. Kim Seokjin and his boyfriend Kim Namjoon where wonderful makeup artists. They both have worked with you a couple of times.
“He’s at the bar getting us drinks. He told me to come over to get you up and dancing until someone wants to take over. You look distracted, when you shouldn’t be. Come on!” He grabs your hand and pulls you over to where the crowd of dancing bodies were. Right now, the song that was playing was quite a hype one. You both went over and started dancing. You were laughing at how Jin was dancing, it didn't match the beat at all. You could feel the alcohol race through your body making it easier to let loose with him.
You heard another song slowly turn on as the one before slowly turned off. Jin laughs it off and he leans into you.
“Stay calm, everything will be okay.” He whispers into your ear then he backs away. You were confused to what he was talking about, until hands came up and around your waist. Your heart started to beat so fast and your hands came up to the strangers. You tried to turn around to see who it was, but his hands turned you back around. You looked down at his hands and you noticed how big and beautiful they were. You know everyone who is in the VIP area, so it wouldn't be a complete stranger, so why not just dance along.
You noticed that the song was Thirsty by Taemin. So you smirked knowing that you were going to torture whoever was behind you. Your hips started moving, you leaned your body into theirs more. They moved their hips more into yours, letting the friction increase. His right hand started getting higher and higher on your body, not bothering to just trail, but to feel every inch until he was reached your neck. You raised your right hand up and wrapped it around his neck. He wrapped his hand around your neck as his other hand pushed your lower abdomen into him as his hip came up and moved against your. He had you caged in, moving your body along with his. His hand around your neck squeezed as he got closer and closer to the side of your head. His hand helped move your head to the side, letting his lips graze your neck. You felt goosebumps raise on the back of your neck.
His left hand wrapped around your whole waist, pulling you closer. As he did, your pushed your ass harder on his, making him tense up a little. He surprises you by biting down on you neck, closer to the meeting of your collar bone. You continue swaying your hips, and pushing your butt into him. His hand tightens even more around your neck, but not actually choking you. You couldn't help but let out a slight moan, near his ear.
Suddenly his hands move and he spins you around, you look up to see who it was. Your breath caught in your throat when you see Taehyung looking down at you. His eyes were low and darker, the horrible lighting in the club not helping much.
He pulls you back into his grasp, the song going hard as it reaches the peak. Your hands wrap around his neck. You bite your lip not sure of what to say or what to think. His eye twitches a little and he looks at if he wanted to say something. But instead he leans in, tucking his head into your neck, making you sway against him. His warmth was all around you, making your body hot. His hands grabbed and kneaded at you, you hoped it meant he never wanted to let go.
You looked down a little and noticed how easily and open his neck was. You didn't know if it was the alcohol running in your body or the heat that is making you extra hot and bothered. Maybe you should’ve thought about it beforehand, but you didn't, you couldn't let this opportunity go.
Your lips latched onto his skin, the spot right between his collarbone and neck. Right where he bite you at. You sucked and nibbled at his skin, only slightly. You felt his hands tighten on your body and you could’ve sworn that you heard a little groan. But before you could confirm it, he yanked himself away.
“Congrats on your line.” He mutters and walks away, leaving you with swollen lips and confused.
Taehyung walked away from you, wanting to go to the bathroom. As soon as he was approaching the door he was pulled back and pushed against the wall.
“Yah!” Jin stood across from Taehyung with his arms crossed and a deep frown settling in his face. Taehyung rolled his eyes, already knowing what was happening.
The other day, after you left, he remembered that Seokjin, his older step brother has worked with you before. He texted him mentioning how you were interested in him. Of course he knew.
He was so used to girls throwing themselves at him, so even though you were quite subtle than most girls, he could still tell.
When you called him, inviting him to your party, Jin was standing right in front of him. Jin of course knew about it from Rowan, so when he found out that you invited Taehyung yourself, he knew that he was going to make Taehyung go. Jin wanted him to tell you congrats himself, to make you happy. He didn't expect you both to be so close.
“What? I said congratulations.” Taehyung sighs and leans against the wall.
“And when was that, when your hand was around her neck, or when you were giving each other hickies?” Jin was surprised that Taehyung even got that close to you, he's only ever had one girlfriend, to whom he was close to. But Jin stopped counted his bodies after it hit ten.
Seokjin was there for Taehyung when Sinsi family found out about how poor they both grew up. He was there when they forced them to break up, he was there when she chose money over him. He was there through everything. So when he was so close to you, someone who wasn't afraid to drop 100k a day, he was nervous. He doesn't want Taehyung to get hurt again. But then again, Jin knew you. He knew you wanted nothing but relationships and that you weren't really into hooking up unless you knew it was going to lead somewhere. He wasn't really sure how Taehyung's closed off personality will clash with your careless and free one. He isn't afraid to admit that he was afraid.
The crazy thing is that Taehyung was afraid. The whole time he was close to you, dancing with you, his heart was beating like crazy. When he hands first came around your waist and he molded himself into you, when he turned you around, when your lips touched his skin...his heart went faster, and faster. But it was when your lips touched and his skin turned into flames was when he was ticked off.
The last time lips made his skin feel the slightest bit hot was with Sinsi. So when he felt like he was standing next to a active hot volcano, just when your lips touched, it triggered him. It closed everything down. He wanted to get away. He didn't get far though, clearly.
“After.” Taehyung says, his smirk that was sitting on his face didn't help Jin much. In fact it worried him.
“Don't mess with her. You treat the girls you hook up with like trash.” Jin says seriously. Taehyung just rolled his eyes. When Seokjin spoke ‘seriously’ to him it always annoyed him. Because that's when he knows he can’t cross him, and that's just Taehyung being his respectful self, to his family.
“Why would I hook up with her, she's not my type.” Taehyung was already bored with this conversation. Only because he knew he messed up by saying that.
“OooOooOohHhhHhh.” Jins faces changed from serious to surprised and in disbelief. He was bent over laughing his ass off as Taehyung stood there, his cheeks burning a little. He put his head down as a couple of people passed by to go to the bathroom, Jin had no problem with laughing still as they passed for a more dramatic effect.
“I remember when we traveled to Europe-” Jin started to say as he calmed down, but Taehyung instantly cut him off by raising his hands up, making Jin start to laugh again. “You seen this women there. It was like you fell in love!” Jin continued.
“Shushh!” Taehyung was trying to cover his mouth up, but Jin was too fast.
“She turned you down and you tried to find her everyday until it was time to leave. You told me she was you dream girl!” Jin couldn't stop. He loved fucking with him.
“Yea?! What's your point?” Taehyung gives up and backs off.
“The point is, that women has the exact same skin tone as YN, the same body type as her. You are attracted to her, don't lie.”
“Okay? Sure i'm attracted to her, but she's a spoiled daddy's girl, and I can't deal with that.” Taehyung was getting irritated again. Now that he actually admitted it, it was weird. He felt weird, and he hated that you already made him feel like this.
“Sure her dad spoils her, but I know her dad. I had to go through him most of the time I've worked with her. He's only that way until someone comes by and takes over.” Seokjin was now leaning against the wall across from Tae.
“I still don't see what you are getting at, I can't spoil her.” Taehyung scoffs.
“Money wise maybe not. But you can spoil her in many other ways. She's not the person to show off her money, she just lives her life. I believe that her personality would be the exact same if she didn't have all of her money, her taste would just be cheaper.”
“So what are you trying to say? You want me to marry her or something?” Taehyung says standing up straight and sticking his hands in his pocket.
“No, I'm just saying that Yn isn't a bad girl. I can tell she likes you, so don't be so rough on her. Try to give her a chance? It will never hurt. You need a girl to make you soft again, I hate this hard ass Tae.” Jin jokes around chuckling making Taehyung roll his eyes once again.
“Whatever.”
___________
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#Kim Taehyung#Kim#Taehyung#V#BTS#BTS v#Bts taehyung#ambw#taehyung ambw#kpop#kpop ambw#stoner au#kpop stoner#stoner#fluff#smut#angst#scenario#series#fanfiction#fanfic#bts fanfiction
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Playing Off Foul (1/2)
Notes: I’ve been working off this idea for awhile. I just needed to get it off my chest. I have so much baseball!Killian crap in my WIP drawer and it needs to see the light of day. A special thank you to @welllpthisishappening and @katie-dub for being my support system and for encouraging me to write this nonsense. My apologies to fans of the Arizona Diamondbacks and Carmelo Anthony. My shade is nothing personal.
Summary: Emma Swan doesn’t know anything about baseball, only that her son Henry is obsessed and works as a ballboy for the New York Yankees. She has no interest in it, that is until her son gets whacked with a foul ball and she comes face-to-face with the player that hit it - Killian Jones.
Rating: T+
Word Count: 4,600+
When it came down to it, Emma blamed David.
Though it had been Neal who had introduced Henry to baseball, it had been David’s fault that he became a Yankees fan. Since the moment he learned that Henry was interest in the sport dubbed “America’s Favorite Pastime,” Emma’s brother had taken to bringing her son to every baseball game he could afford and spending the rest of his money on more merchandise than their tiny two bedroom apartment could afford.
It was David who had told Henry about the ballboy job opening at Yankee Stadium and like a fool, Emma had allowed her teenager to apply. She didn’t think he would get past the application review but two weeks later, Henry had gotten the call in for an interview which was followed by an official job offer and a celebratory dinner at Fazio’s. She wasn’t been sure how was more excited about it - Henry for having an opportunity to meet his heroes and get paid for it or David who now had an inside man on what was really going on in the Yankees’ locker room.
Emma had been less enthused about it.
Though the team that spent half of its games on the road, the stadium seemed to have constant need of Henry and it wasn’t uncommon for him to come stumbling back into the apartment at one or two in the morning on a school night. Furthermore, the players had an habit of giving him more money in tips than Henry knew what to do with on top of earning an whopping $21.50 an hour. Emma nearly blew a gasket when she find out one of the players had given her son a thousand dollars to keep quiet about some girls coming into the locker room for a “private tour.” She didn’t want their boorish behaviour and outrageous spending habits rubbing off on her son. She already had Neal to contend with, she didn’t need to add a bunch of immature rich assholes to the mix.
However, there were silver linings to Henry working at the ballpark. Being a ballboy required him to be on top of his grades and it kept him out of trouble for the most part. More often than not, his Saturday nights were spent cleaning bases and polishing cleats rather than going to parties. She also no longer had to worry about Henry asking for money to hang out with his friends since he made more than enough to fend for himself. Another added cherry was that nothing pissed off her Diamondbacks loving ex more than knowing their son was working for “the Evil Empire.”
Still, Emma didn’t like it.
She especially didn’t like it when she saw “Yankee Stadium” on her caller ID when she was in the middle of a honey-trap operation to catch a guy who had been charged with credit card fraud.
“Hello? Is this Mrs. Swan?” It was a voice she didn’t recognise but he sounded vaguely nervous.
She bristled slightly at bit at the misnomer. “It’s Miss Swan and yes, this is.”
“Right, sorry, Miss Swan, my name is William Smee and I’m a clubhouse assistant manager over at Yankee Stadium. I’m calling in regard to your son-“ “What happened?” Emma cut him off in a clipped tone.
“There was an accident. A foul ball caught him unaware and he was knocked unconscious. An ambulance was called and he’s on his way to Bronx New Lebanon.”
Fear spiked up her spine as he spoke but she tapped it down, immediately going into crisis mode. She couldn’t afford to get hysterical. Henry needed to keep her cool. Before Mr. Smee even finished his last sentence, she had picked up her purse and was shrugging her coat back on.
“How long ago was this?”
“Twenty minutes ago. We wanted to make sure Henry got immediate attention and was looked after before we did anything else. His health is our top priority and rest assured, Miss Swan, the organisation is willing to pay any medical bills or anything-” “I literally do not care,” Emma cut him off again. “Just give me the address.”
“It’s on Tiffany Street, I believe, ma’am.”
Emma got up, so focused on the situation with Henry that she had forgotten all about her “date.” She turned to leave, he reached out and grabbed her arm. Emma hissed when his grip was a little more forceful than necessary, fingers digging into her skin.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked rudely.
“My son is in the hospital. I need to go.”
“You have a son?”
“Yes. He’s fourteen and was just in an accident at Yankee Stadium. Now, let me go.”
“Look, Emma, I don’t know what your malfunction is but I know a lie when I see one. You’re wearing an old ass dress and false stones after all. How about you sit down and actually give me a chance. I’m a really nice guy with some cash to burn.”
“Listen, dude, let me go and I will forget about this.”
“Or what? What are you gonna do me, sweetheart?”
Emma let out a short humourless laugh. This guy didn’t realize how lenient she was planning on being. When she heard Henry was in the hospital, she had decided that she would let this skip go and focus on her son. Now, she wasn’t going to be so generous. On top of being a massive credit scam artist, he was also an asshole and she wasn’t going to let that fly.
She pulled out her cuffs and attached one to his wrist faster than he could blink. He stared at his wrist dumbfounded while she attached the other end to his seat. When he tried to take off, Emma tripped him. She watched in smug satisfaction as the chair landed on top of him. She placed a heeled foot on top of it to keep him in place as she took out her phone once more and called her brother. He picked up after the second ring.
“Is Henry okay?” He asked immediately, not even bothering with pleasantries.
Emma blinked in surprise. “You know about that already?”
“Yeah. It was just on ESPN.”
“Shit.”
“Where is he? I saw him get pulled off. He okay?”
“I’m heading to Bronx New Lebanon now,” Emma replied, applying more pressure on the man beneath her foot. “I need a big favor though. I need you to pick up a Mr. James Graves from Piccola Cucina.”
“On it.”
“Fuck you, bitch!” The skip growled.
“Hey! You had your chance!” She snapped back. “You should have just let me go and see my son!”
The maitre d’hotel came over with a cautious expression, holding his hands up in front of him as if he was approaching a wild and dangerous animal. Emma flashed him a smile in hopes of defusing some of the tension. He gave a tentative one back.
“Is everything okay here, Miss?” He asked nervously.
“Hi. My name is Emma Swan. I work for Nationalwide Bail Bonds Agency. This gentleman, and I use that term loosely, missed his court date and there’s a warrant out for his arrest. There’s an officer on the way. I needed to leave like twenty minutes ago because my kid is in the hospital. So, no. It’s not okay.”
The maitre d’hotel’s eyes went wide and he glanced between her and the man underneath her boot a few times, looking entirely unsure on how to handle the situation. Emma sympathised. This wasn’t the type of joint that was used to rough clientele and this wasn’t normally the sort of spot that Emma would bring her skips but James Graves had insisted on this spot, probably in an attempt to impress her into sleeping with him.
“I’ll going to talk to someone...I will be right back…”
“I’ll be here,” Emma muttered bitterly, taking out her phone and glancing at the time. She didn’t want to leave Henry alone in the hospital.
“You could still let me go...and see your kid...and I will be willing to forget all about this…” James Graves wheezed from under her.
Emma rolled her eyes. “You had your shot, buddy. You blew it. Now, you’re going to hang tight until Officer Nolan comes.”
The maitre d’hotel returned four minutes later, two large stocky men flanking him. Both were wearing black shirts and white aprons that were covered in grime; the customary mark of someone who works in the back of a restaurant. Neither of them looked happy, both eying Emma’s skip with disdain.
“Miss, I know you need to leave so I talked to some of the boys in the back who are willing to babysit your friend until the authorities arrive so you can get to your son.”
It was the nicest thing a stranger had ever done for her. She gave them her first genuine smile of the night.
“Seriously?”
“Absolutely. We’ll keep an eye on him. Go see your boy… and perhaps come back for some eggplant parm when you’re able.”
With her skip issue settled, Emma raced to where she had parked her car. Her eyes nearly bulged when she saw a parking ticket tacked to her windshield but it was nothing she couldn’t sort out with David later. It was just another annoyance and one that she needed to set aside until she saw to Henry.
The drive to the Bronx was as painful. It was as if the some unmerciful god knew how stressed she was and decided to add to it. FDR Drive was backed to hell with bumper-to-bumper traffic. She watched in frustration as the ETA on her Waze app crept up minute by minute, screaming against her steering wheel. If only she had gotten a Hummer instead of a Volkswagen Bug, then she could just crush everything in her path and be with her son already.
It took her nearly an hour and twenty minutes to get to Tiffany Street and then another ten minutes to find parking before resigning to put her car in an overpriced garage that only took cash. The men at the lot were unsympathetic to her plight. They rolled their eyes at her explanations, telling her to that the local convenience across the street had an ATM and to come back when she could actually pay them.
Needless to say by the time she finally got into the hospital, Emma was in a foul mood and was ready to go to war with anyone who got in her path. Her anger must have been plastered all over her face because anyone who saw her gave her a wide berth and the nursing staff seemed to shrink under her gaze when she demanded to know where her son was. She didn’t care what anyone thought of her. She just wanted to know her kid was okay.
She was led down the hall by a harassed looking nurse who was trying very hard to make small talk with her but Emma was having none of it. The nurse stopped towards the end of the hall and gestured to the last room, mumbling something about seeing to other people. She paid the woman no mind though.
She was surprised to hear laughter coming from her son’s hospital room. It wasn’t the laughter of a teenager but rather a grown man, one she didn’t recognise. Frowning to herself, she entered the room to find her son sitting up in bed and playing cards with a stranger.
Henry’s face brightened when he saw her.
“Mom! You made it! Did you get your guy?”
Emma didn’t acknowledge the question. Her attention was focused on the man sitting at her son’s bedside. He appeared to be the same age as her and dressed in the most expensive pair of sweats that she had ever seen. The New York Yankees logo was emblazoned across his chest and his sleeves were rolled to his elbows, exposing muscled forearms. He had messy dark hair and well-manicured stubble that seemed to enhance the line of his jaw. He was giving her a tentative smile and brushing his hands against his knees nervously. In the back of her head, Emma acknowledged he was incredibly attractive but she was more concerned with who the hell he was and why he was in her son’s hospital room.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Mom!” Henry sounded scandalized.
“Ermmm…” The man ran one of his hands through his hair. Emma noted the massive scarring that seemed to encompass webbing between his thumb and index finger and seemed to radiate in angry lines across his knuckles. He stood up and held out his other hand for her shake. “Killian Jones.”
She didn’t take it. Instead she crossed her arms in front of her chest and raised her eyebrows at him. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
Henry let out a loud groan and looked like he was about have a fit.
“Mom! Are you kidding? He’s the best second baseman in the league! He has the highest on-base percentage and leads the AL in stolen bases! He’s, like, one of the top twenty best hitters! How do you not know who he is!”
Emma glanced back at the proclaimed baseball superstar and squinted a bit. Now that Henry had mentioned it, he did look a little familiar. She was pretty certain that he had seen his profile on her son’s bedroom wall. Though, he looked more intense on the poster than he did in real life. If anything, he now looked awkward and embarrassed. Killian’s face flushed under the praise and he took back the hand he had held out in order to scratch behind his ear.
“I’m pretty sure Jose Altuve would disagree with you on the best second baseman thing.”
“Okay, maybe not the best second baseman but you’re up there. You have an insane record in double plays and you play for the best team in baseball,” Henry conceded, picking up the deck of cards that had been scattered across his rollaway table.
“I appreciate the show of team spirit, Henry.”
“Okay, I get it,”she said, cutting into the bizarre display of male bonding that was happening in front of her. “What is he doing here?”
Both Henry and Killian looked uncomfortable at the question, the two of them exchanging glances. Emma felt her stomach tying itself in knots. She had a feeling she was not going to like what they had to say.
“I just wanted to make sure your boy was okay…” Killian replied slowly, as if he was trying to choose his words carefully. “...and you know, make sure that there was no hard feelings or anything…”
“Excuse me?” Emma narrowed her eyes at him.
“It wasn’t your fault, Killian. It was a foul ball. I should have been paying attention more.”
“Perhaps but still, I would never forgive myself if anything bad had happened to you.”
“You’re the one who hit my kid?!” She hissed, looking at him with murder in her eyes. She was five seconds away from decking him in the face.
Killian seemed to sense her aggression because he put his hands out in front of him in surrender. “Not intentionally! I promise!”
“Right,” she replied in a clipped tone before turning to her son. “Do you mind if I borrow Mr. Baseball here for a moment so we can have a...chat?”
Emma wasn’t certain who looked more nervous, her son or the professional baseball player who was shifting in place like a guilty toddler.
“As long as you promise not to kill him… if he dies, we, for sure, won’t make the playoffs this year.”
“Glad to know that’s all my life is worth to you, Henry.”
“Just being honest.”
She gestured for Killian to follow her out into the hallway. He followed her but she could see the clear reluctance that embodied his stride. He reminded her of the children who sat in front of the principal’s office, waiting to be screamed at. She closed the door behind them, so Henry wouldn't listen in on their conversation. She leaned against it, crossing her arms in front of her chest and glaring at him.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
He looked startled by the question. “I already told you. I’m here for your boy, Mrs. Swan.”
“You say that but I know how you assholes work. Everything with you is image. Henry keeps a tight lip on what happens in that locker room but I know that you and some of your buddies pay him to keep quiet about the nasty shit that goes on in that.”
“Pardon?” His lips formed a thin line. His nerves were giving way to irritation but Emma didn’t care.
“You heard? I’m not an idiot. You‘ really not here out of any concern for my son. You’re here to cover your ass and keep up your good guy image. I will not have you use my son as a publicity stunt.”
“Publicity stunt?” He repeated. He looked positively offended by her words. “Listen, Mrs. Swan-”
“It’s Emma. Not Miss Swan, especially not Mrs. Swan,” she cut him off. “I’m not married. Everyone at that fucking stadium always assumes I am. It’s annoying.”
“Alright, alright, fine, Emma,” he conceded, looking more frustrated. “I’m not here for a publicity stunt. Do you see cameras? Reporters? Any media specialists?”
“No,” she admitted.
“That’s because no one knows I’m here. Especially not any reporter. If anything, I’m in big trouble because I skipped media. I didn’t tell anyone I was coming here except one of the base coaches and only because he asked where I was going.”
“Aren’t you going to get in trouble for that?”
“Most definitely,” he replied with a nonchalant shrug.
“Then why are you here?” she whispered again.
“I don’t know how many times I have to say it to you but I genuinely like your son, Mis-Emma. He’s a nice kid. He’s always got a smile on his face and never complains or asks for anything except what else he can do...some of the ballboys after a while try to cut corners or try to go out partying with the team but not Henry… he’s been with us just for this season and it feels like he’s always been there…If he had been seriously hurt…” Killian paused, rubbing his hand over his jaw and looking distressed by the very idea. “...I was serious when I said I would never forgive myself.”
Emma studied him for a moment, sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose. She felt slightly guilty about accusing him of using Henry in such a way when he seemed so earnest in his attachment to her son.
“I didn’t want him to take the job,” she admitted. “He’s got enough going on… And now this...”
“I know.”
She looked up at him, slightly startled. “What?”
“Henry told me you were apprehensive about letting him work in the clubhouse… he thinks you only allowed it to piss off your ex.”
“Henry told you that?”
“I don’t think you understand how closely your son works with the team, love. Like I said, he’s a good kid so I tend to gravitate towards him instead of the others...we talk a lot about things...from freshman baseball tryouts to his writing...”
“You know about Henry’s writing? Henry doesn’t talk to anyone about his writing, not David, not his father.”
“Well, I think he’s more open with me about it because I’m admittedly a Babylon Five and Stargate Atlantis junkie so he’s more comfortable sharing things with a fellow nerd… from what I understand your ex was quite disparaging of his Doctor Who obsession...not that he has much taste, considering he’s a Diamondbacks fan.”
“You’re a sci fi nerd AND a professional baseball player?”
“They aren’t mutually exclusive,” he teased. “What? What did you think we only watched ESPN or Fox Sports or something?”
“Honestly, yes.”
He chuckled, shaking his head and smiling at her. Her breath caught a little and her stomach did annoyingly flips that it hadn’t done since high school. She was stunned how she went from wanting to murder him for hurting her kid to literally squirming at the sight of his face. She needed to get a hold of herself.
“We should probably go back in,” she replied. “You know, so he doesn’t think I murdered you and the team’s playoff chances…”
“Probably a good idea.”
Henry looked anxious as they opened the door, craning his neck to see past Emma. His shoulders visibly relaxed when he saw Killian, alive and well, behind her. She couldn’t help her snort of amusement.
“Did you honestly think I was going to kill him?”
“With you anything is possible, Mom. You did almost run over Carmelo Anthony that one time..”
Killian’s eyebrows rose as he regarded her with a look that was equals concerned and amused. “You almost ran over Carmelo Anthony?”
“That’s not my fault! He was on his phone and walked in front of my car!” Emma defended. “He’s lucky that I have amazing reflexes and was able to stop in time or else he would have been out for all of 2016.”
“I think at that point Knicks fans would have thanked you. I’m pretty they were trying to get rid of him by then. He was a cancer to the team,” Killian responded with a smirk.
“You follow basketball too?”
“I follow most major sports, love. Except maybe golf. But that’s because I firmly believe if you can drink and smoke while playing it, then it isn’t a sport,” Killian remarked.
“Babe Ruth used to eat, drink and smoke between innings,” Henry teased.
“That’s because Babe Ruth was a baseball god and could do whatever he wanted.”
“If you say so.”
Killian gave Henry a light shove in response. He sat down in his original seat and picked up the neatly stack cards that Henry had been fiddling with.
“Do you want to play another hand?”
“Only if Mom deals in,” Henry smiled.
“I can play,” Emma responded, taking another chair and sitting next Killian. She miscalculated the distance between them, causing her knee bump against his. Emma was vaguely surprised when neither of them pulled away from the accidental contact. “As long as I get the official story of what happened.”
Henry’s face turned red and ducked his head down, focusing on the cards Killian was dealing.
“Okay….so with foul balls, we’re supposed to give them away to fans. And when we say fans, they mean to give them away to the little kids. You know? The four to ten-year olds. Anyway, there was this family and they had two kids and the older kid really really really wanted a ball....so I gave him one and the other kid who was maybe three, I think? I’m guessing he was three, anyway, he threw a big tantrum and I just wanted him to be happy and have a good time so I decided to give him the next ball that came our way...So that’s what I did. And this kid, I don’t think he understood that you’re supposed to keep it because he threw it back on the field...The long and short of it is that I was supposed to be paying attention to the batter. You’re not supposed to do anything but watch when someone is in the box because of safety reasons but the kid threw the ball and I went to pick it up...and the next thing I knew I was on the ground... So really, it’s not Killian’s fault, Mom. It’s mine. And I’m probably going to lose my job over it.”
“You’re not going to lose your job over that, Henry,” Killian said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Things like this happen. You’re not the first and you probably won’t be the last ballboy to get hit.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely,” he responded, picking up his cards.
Emma was more focused on her son than on the card game, looking at him in concern.
“What did the doctor say?”
“That I have a mild concussion. They did tests and say I should be okay, but they want to keep me overnight for observation,” Henry shrugged.
“They did tests!?”
Tests and an overnight in the hospital? She could only imagine what the hospital bill was going to look like. She highly doubted her crap ass insurance plan would do much to cover the costs. She was going to be paying this off all year. She could feel it.
Killian seemed to sense her distress and played a hand on her arm. She jumped slightly at the contact.
“I’m pretty sure the organization is going to foot the bill, love. And if they don’t, I will. You don’t need to worry.”
“We’re not a charity case,” she snapped.
“I didn’t say you were. It’s just the right there to do.”
They didn’t talk much after that, instead focusing on the card game that they had started. Henry was pretty much sweeping them both but Emma had a sneaking suspicion that Killian was losing on purpose, trying to make Henry smile and laugh. It was strange to see someone interact with her son like this outside David and Neal. It did funny things to her insides.
Killian stayed with them past visiting hours, using his charm and clout as a professional baseball player to keep the nurses from kicking them out. It wasn’t until his agent, an imposing woman in a well-tailored pantsuit, came and pulled on the back of his sweatshirt, did Killian leave. Emma didn’t know who was more upset, she or Henry, that he was going.
“You’ll see me sooner than you think,” he told Henry, ruffling his hair a bit and causing the teenager to scowl at him. “You’ll be working at the clubhouse again before you know it and we still have to work on your swing. If you’re not a starting baseman by next year, I will eat my shoe.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Henry replied smartly.
Killian’s eyes cut to Emma, smile softening. “Will I be seeing you around?”
“I don’t know, do you plan on whacking my son in the head again?”
“Hopefully not,” he chuckled, ducking his head a bit.
“Then maybe…”
“Just maybe?”
“It’s better than no.”
“Too true,” he chuckled. “Well, I look forward to maybe seeing you around.”
Henry hit her in the shoulder as soon as Killian was out the door, smirking at her. “You were flirting with Killian Jones!”
“What? I was not!”
“You were too! And he was flirting back! I saw you!” he crowed. “Wait until Uncle David hears this!”
“You’re not telling Uncle David anything because nothing happened!”
“Suuuuureeeeee Mom.”
“Shut up,” she said, giving him a light shove back. “And you should be resting.”
“And you should have gotten his number.”
“Henry. Sleep.”
It turned out that Emma didn’t have to ask. Next afternoon there was a large package outside their apartment, containing a large display of flowers, a personalized New York Yankees jersey with ‘Swan’ on the back, a pack of baseball cards and an index phone with a handwritten message: Just in case, you want to make that maybe a certainty, give me call: 212-921-2012 - KJ
#captain swan#cs ff#cs fic#cs fanfiction#cs fanfic#playing off foul#my fic#my shit#I love baseball#laura and I are gonna form the 'killian jones in pinstripes coalition'#yankee!Killian#baseball!Killian
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why do the yankees always win? - ch. 7
chapter summary: ... come to an end
chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter 6 | ao3
Mike couldn’t say when, exactly, Ginny’s belongings begin to disappear from his apartment.
It happens too gradually, and he’s got too many irons in the fire, but one day, Mike looks around and the apartment feels empty. Lonely.
There isn’t a crumb-filled plate on the side table next to Ginny’s corner of the couch. His shaving cream stands alone on the bathroom counter, surrounded by the space all of Ginny’s toiletries left behind. Her side of the bed remains untouched, and all of it is hitting him out of nowhere.
It’s not that he hasn’t noticed that she’s spending fewer nights with him, but that’s economy more than anything else. Ginny’s started her physical therapy in earnest now. It makes more sense for her to be close to Petco, and that means staying at the Omni. Anyway, Mike’s taking more shifts at the dealership than usual, so it’s not like he’s spending much time at the apartment either.
If she were around more often, Mike’s sure he wouldn’t get away with avoiding questions about his suddenly full schedule. Not that he really knows how he’d answer.
As it is, Ginny doesn’t ask many questions.
(She’d frowned the first and last time she brought it up. “It’s Saturday. You’re really going into work?”
Mike had just shrugged, as if to say, “Rich people and their cars. What can I do?” and dropped a kiss to her forehead. What he did say, when he pulled back and she was still frowning, was, “My landlord will thank me when my rent check doesn’t bounce. I’ll be back by seven. Let me know if I should bring back dinner.”
If he were less distracted by his mental calculations, trying to figure out how many commissions he needed before life could go back to normal, he might’ve noticed the anxiety on Ginny’s face. He might’ve read the tension in her shoulders and neck, the way her eyes squeezed shut as he pressed his lips to her furrowed brow.
He wasn’t, though, so he didn’t.)
He might feel better about it if she did, though. Feel less like he’s keeping secrets.
Which. He definitely is, but that’s semantics.
How can he explain these new long hours without outright lying? Strange as it is, money’s never been a big issue between them. The fact that she’s got a multi-million dollar contract with the Padres and most of his income comes from commission, not his pittance of a salary, hasn’t bothered him before.
If anything is going to make Mike uncertain or self-conscious about his relationship with Ginny, it isn’t money. Not when photographers and fans and so-called journalists follow her every move.
Besides, It’s not like Ginny’s begging to go out to expensive restaurants or on fancy vacations. And if she did, Mike’s pretty sure she wouldn’t expect him to pay. He likes to think he’s evolved enough to be comfortable with letting his girlfriend pay his way around. Occasionally. If he got a really fancy vacation and vacation sex out of the deal.
As it is, there’s no point in trying to impress her with more than his ability to prepare a home-cooked meal and make her forget everything aside from his name in bed.
Luckily, Mike’s pretty fucking good at both of those things.
Unluckily, he’s also pretty fucking good at keeping secrets.
It’s almost unconscious, the way he manages this one, keeps the truth from Ginny as deftly as he’s ever conned a mark. But it’s not like Mike’s proud of it. The fact of the matter is that he’s no stranger to the strategic manipulation of information.
Which doesn’t mean he’s lying to Ginny. She hasn’t come out and asked him why he needs to work so much when he’s never been more than ambivalent about his career. If anything, it’s a sin of omission. And one that should keep her from getting hurt.
That has to matter. Right?
(Just because he tries to make himself feel better, doesn’t mean he’s that successful.)
There are too many questions and none of them have easy answers. He torments himself all day at work, only half his attention on clients and cars, the other half focused on the endless litany churning through his mind.
How the hell is he supposed to tell her that his mom’s a con artist? How does he tell her he used to be one, too? How does he say his mom thinks their relationship is just another con? Or that she wants in on the payout? How does he tell Ginny that he hasn’t set his mom straight? How does he tell her that he’s going to pay her off, just with his own money? How does he break that news without making her question everything else he’s ever told her?
How does he get out of this without breaking Ginny’s trust?
And that’s the heart of it.
Ginny had a rough childhood of her own and Mike wants to believe that she wouldn’t judge him for his own past, not if he tells her the truth of it all and how it’s threatening to detonate in the present. But there are years, decades even, of his mom’s warnings and threats and scare tactics keeping him quiet. As a kid, the truth could, and sometimes did, get them run out of town, once someone figured out Jackie Lawson’s game and Mike’s place in it all.
For nearly eighteen years, he’d been his mom’s literal partner in crime. Her shill.
It’s not something Mike’s ever admitted to anyone, doesn’t even like admitting it to himself. He just can’t imagine anyone’s opinion of him not changing in the face of that knowledge.
And if there’s anyone in the world whose good opinion and trust he craves, it’s Ginny Baker.
The fact that he currently has it makes its potential loss all the more gutting.
Jesus, this is quite the bed he’s made for himself.
After the months they’ve spent together, all the things he’s learned about Ginny, this isn’t the kind of information he can just laugh off.
“Oh, did I not mention that my estranged mother wants me to extort you for thousands of dollars? No? Haha, my bad, Gin. Anyway, what should we have for dinner?”
Yeah fucking right.
Even if she believes that he doesn’t actually have a plan to pull a long con on her, there’s no way that Mike gets out of this without telling her about his past. And his past isn’t like Ginny’s: tough but ultimately the backbone of her success.
Mike’s past was just tough.
Much as he tries to leave that past behind him, he should have known better than to expect it to stay there.
(“Hey, ma,” he’d said, that first call, some sixth sense kicking in despite the unknown number listed on caller ID.
“Mikey,” she’d greeted, as sweet as ever. Well, when she wanted something at least.
The last he’d heard, Jackie Lawson had been running a clip joint somewhere near Bakersfield. This was after stepdad #3 decided he was no longer interested in funding her spending habits. Gone were the days of short game after short game, cutting and running at the first whiff of trouble. It was almost as if she was growing as a person.
Almost.
“What do you want?” he sighed, muting the television. Something told him it would be better to give all his attention to this conversation.
“A woman can’t call her son?”
“Not when it’s been five years since the last call.”
Jackie sighed, sounding put upon. Perversely, Mike couldn’t help but feel guilty. This was his mother, for God’s sake. It was easy to get hung up on her questionable qualities, but there had been good times. His mom wasn’t a complete monster. He could’ve picked up the phone, too.
Like she could sense him weakening, Jackie pounced.
“Phones work two ways, you know,” she sniffled, sounding genuinely distressed. Then again, his mom was the person who’d taught him how to make crocodile tears convincing at the tender age of six. “A mother shouldn’t have to find out about the new woman in her son’s life from the papers. Why wouldn’t you tell me about her, Mike? She’s lovely. And so successful...”
There it was. Leave it to her to come out of the woodwork only after paparazzi shots of him and Ginny out at the San Diego Zoo went viral.
Good old mom.
She’d gone on to congratulate him, in a mostly roundabout way—plausible deniability after all—about his future score, probing at his methods and testing for weak spots or whether there was any chance he’d let her in on it.
He got so turned around that he ended the conversation without denying, emphatically, everything. For Jackie, that’d been as good as a confirmation.)
Mike can’t blame her— Well, he can and he does, but Jackie Lawson is and always has been a two-bit con artist. She doesn’t have the patience for long games, always opting for the quick pay day, even when the risks are greater. After 36 years, Mike’s finally learned not to expect more of her. That ship has long since sailed. The scent of the biggest payoff she’d ever see, even if it isn’t strictly real, was bound to draw her out.
Which is why he still hasn’t corrected the confusion. Why he hasn’t told her that he’s just in love, or something dangerously close to it. And why he is going to send his mom some money from this nonexistent con.
He’s got some savings built up. A few more big commissions and he can offer Jackie Lawson a pay day. One that will maybe convince her to give up on the ever-elusive big score and go into retirement. Or whatever it is that second-rate grifters do in their twilight years.
If it also keeps her from showing up in San Diego herself and detonating his entire life, then all the better.
Most importantly, it shields Ginny from all of this bullshit. It gives Mike room to tell her about his childhood and his mom and everything that goes with them on his own terms. Hopefully, he could preserve the fragile, perfect bubble insulating the honeymoon stage of his relationship with Ginny.
With all the time Ginny’s been spending at the Omni, her steadily disappearing possessions from his apartment, and the way she’s been texting him less and less, though, maybe the bubble’s already popped.
When he shuffles into his quiet apartment after a long day at the dealership—managed to upsell some bored, young finance guy on a Maserati that he’d probably end up totaling within three months. Good for his future commission cuts if not that beautiful piece of machinery—Mike lets himself hope for a moment that Ginny will be there, waiting for him.
He can practically see her, sitting cross-legged on the couch, her hair piled on top of her head and yelling at the TV. Whether it’s because of NC State’s poor performance or clueless Jeopardy! contestants is always up for debate, but the smile she’d give him isn’t. Wide and bright and quick, it’s enough to make Mike melt, no matter how awful his work day went.
God, he loves that smile.
All that waits for him on the couch, though, are a pile of bills and the hoodie she’d forgotten when they had dinner together four nights ago.
Idly, he picks it up and inhales the lingering scent of Ginny. It’d probably be embarrassing if anyone saw him do it, but Mike might actually be beyond caring.
She’d shown up at his door, looking as fresh-faced and energetic as ever in spite of the long workout he knew she’d just completed—couldn’t neglect her legs or core, even with a bum arm. And she didn’t come alone. A bag from the burger place in Encinitas he’d shown her hung by her side. Before he could ask how she’d gotten them—her appointment to take her license exam was still a few weeks away—she’d given him a lopsided smile and admitted to asking a clubby to go pick them up for her.
Mike shook his head, rolling his eyes, but still reeled Ginny into his side so he could revel in the feel of her against him. Slumping, she leaned most of her weight on him, the only indication she gave of how worn out she was. Well, he’d gladly bear that weight for her. As long as Ginny let him. She’d sighed and held him as tightly as he did her.
It’d been a quiet night, the two of them settling on the couch to watch basketball and eat their burgers. She was quiet, but Mike mostly thought that was because she didn’t have much of an opinion on the Lakers-Wolves game he’d put on. He asked a few questions about her PT and she shrugged them off, not that he could blame her. Mike had to imagine pretty much everyone in her life wanted to talk about her PT: how it was going, did she feel stronger, when could she start throwing again. If Ginny needed him to be the one person who didn’t, he would gladly be that for her.
So, he let his arm drop around her shoulder and let her lean against his side and just relax.
When she eventually rose to go, Mike didn’t argue, much as he wanted her back in his bed. He hadn’t been sleeping well and wanted to believe having her with him would help. At the very least, when he woke in the middle of the night, he’d be able curl around her. Instead, he simply followed her to the door, pressed a goodnight kiss to her full lips, and told her to sleep well. She’d pulled back and searched his face for a long moment before turning and walking away, out of sight.
That was four days ago, though.
Now, Mike is reduced to burying his face in his girlfriend’s sweatshirt and pretending it’s even close to actually having her here.
With a sigh, Mike looks around the dead apartment and tries to muster up any kind of desire to make dinner or do some of the dishes piling up in the sink.
Instead, he fishes his phone out of his pocket and hopes that Ginny hasn’t already gone to bed.
As the line rings, he shrugs out of his jacket and loosens his tie, sitting on the end of his bed to unlace his shoes. He stops all that, though, flopping back on the mattress when the ringing stops and Ginny’s familiar, low rasp comes in.
“Hello?”
“Fuck, Gin,” he sighs down the line without preamble. Laying in bed isn’t the same without her curled beside him, without the smell of her shampoo drifting into his nose as she tucks her head against his shoulder. “I miss you.”
She hums and Mike has a visceral memory of her making that same sound and how it vibrated through her lips, straight into him.
(That she’d had those lips wrapped around his dick at the time doesn’t make him ache for her any more, but that’s just because Mike doesn’t think it’s physically possible.
God, how deep in this thing is he?)
“You sure you don’t wanna come stay over tonight?” he offers weakly, already knowing her response.
“You know I’ve got an early appointment with the team physicians.”
“I do,” Mike allows. “Still wish you were here with me.”
“Well, I’m not, old man,” Ginny teases. If there’s something a little off in her delivery, he figures it’s just how tired she must be. “Deal with it.”
He chuckles. “Maybe if I had more to keep me company than this rank sweatshirt of yours, I could handle it better.”
Mike definitely expects her to laugh it off and ask about her sweatshirt. How the woman manages to keep her closet full of lycra and spandex-based workout clothes straight is a mystery, but Ginny’s got a an encyclopedic knowledge of each and every one. He’s sure she’s been going mad trying to figure out where this one got to.
Instead, there’s a long pause. He can practically hear her thinking.
“Like what?” she finally asks, slow and hesitant. “You want a picture?”
(If Mike were feeling less lonely, less turned on by the mere thought of Ginny arranging herself for an impromptu photoshoot, he would probably remember the hack and the selfies and the scramble and circus surrounding them. He’d probably hear the edge in her voice, the slight tremble of suspicion and anxiety. As it is, all he can think about is how hard he is at the mere suggestion of Ginny sprawled out on the pristine white sheets in her hotel room, snapping a picture just for him.)
He groans and doesn’t resist palming himself through his slacks.
“There’s not a chance in hell I’m gonna say no to that, Gin.”
“How did I know?” Ginny laughs, but it’s not the bright, hoarse thing he’s used to. There’s definitely something off-key in it, more resigned than amused.
Mike frowns and stops groping himself. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah,” she replies, quick and much closer to her usual tone. “Just tired. I think I’m gonna go to bed.”
“Oh. Yeah, all right,” he says, more than a little disappointed, and not just because it would be only him and his hand tonight. If Ginny doesn’t want to tell him what’s wrong, though, he can be patient, wait her out. Maybe she needs to figure it out on her own before she opens up. “Talk to you later?”
She hums again, murmurs a soft “Good night,” and the line goes dead.
When he comes home from work the following day, the last of Ginny’s things are gone, odd little voids that makes the apartment feel emptier than it is. He trails through the space, taking in the dust ring from Ginny’s bottle of lotion on the coffee table and the absence of her spare running shoes in the closet. When he gets to his bedroom, a heavy sense of foreboding pooling in his gut, the nightstand where he’d left her sweatshirt (after falling asleep with his nose pressed in its folds) is empty, a short note left in its place.
Mike,
There’s no other way to say this. I think it would be better if we don’t see each other any more.
Please don’t try to contact me.
He reads it, over and over again, but the words never once rearrange themselves into anything less gut-wrenching.
Automatically, he reaches for his phone, Ginny’s contact information appearing on the screen in spite of her last request.
The line rings. Once.
“The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable, please leave a message after the tone.”
He doesn’t bother, instead sinking to the bed, a mirror of the position he was in last night, talking to Ginny on the phone. Today, though, his head sinks to his hands, elbows propped on his knees, and there’s really only one thing to say.
“Fuck.”
Fuck is right.
#bawson fic#Bawson#Pitch#Pitch fic#why do the yankees always win?#i wrote something#i am aware this is short#compared to the last chapter#but i couldn't do more#without ginny actually showing up#and i haven't figured that out yet#ugh this was so much exposition
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Feel for you [One Shot]
Blink, blink, blink. Beep.
4.02am
Marcy stared at the digital clock. If this thing kept beeping she’d either smash it or burst her own eardrums. One of them hurt enough for that already. She looked over at the man driving the car. His head twitched a millimeter to her side and she hastily looked out the window again. She could taste blood, and her hands trembling, and the tightness in her chest telling her she could not escape, never could, that her nightmares had only been announcing what had to happen eventually.
Silly, silly Marceline, thinking she could just walk away.
Six years weren’t a short time, certainly not. But she had always known this would happen. And she had ignored it. She had stopped being careful.
It had all happened so fast. The convention was far from over, and Nigel was still there, presumably enjoying himself in the umpteenth round of laser tag. If you didn’t know him you’d think he never got tired. Marceline certainly did, so she decided to leave.
“I’ll walk,” Marceline had said. “It’s not far.”
“Are you sure?”, he had asked. “Let me at least walk with you so you’re safe.”
“That’s sweet of you but I’m a grown woman. I’ll be fine.” He didn’t look comfortable, but he knew he wouldn’t budge her decision now. So Nigel let her go and Marceline walked alone. She was alone when her past finally decided to come after her.
She hadn’t even recognized him. After the break-up she had tried everything to avoid him. Her brother had helped her, and he had gotten in fights more often than he should have because of her. Her stupid, protective, precious brother. Tuomas was the reason she was still here, among other things. But he was not here now. She was alone.
“Is there a decent joint in this bumblefuck?” He sounded different, too. Less sophisticated. Rougher. Maybe the philosophy major hadn’t worked out after all.
A twinge of pain bloomed on her leg and Marceline winced. “I’m talking to you,” he growled.
“S-Sure,” she muttered. That earned her another slap on the thigh, less painful this time.
“Speak up, you know I hate it when you mumble.”
“Yes,” Marceline repeated, a little clearer. She looked around. In the dark, places were less recognizable, but she knew where she was. “W-Well, there’s-”
“Never mind,” Chad cut her off. “Over there’s a place. Sheesh, you have gotten even slower. Did your new guy bang your brains out or what? Or do you keep him at arm’s length like you always do? He sure didn’t make an effort to get your English fixed.”
Marceline fell quiet again. Despite the warm summer air, she was freezing. She was never cold, thanks to her Finnish ancestry as she always joked, but now she seemed like everything had turned to ice, even the sweat on he body. She shook with a violent burst of energy, in a rhythmic pattern that she had absolutely no control over. Marcy wrapped her arms around her body as inconspicuously as possible. She didn’t want to draw any more attention.
She had walked this street hundreds of times. The district was close-knitted, she knew most people that lived here at least by sight. But of course, at four in the morning, everything was deserted. The car had rolled past her, slowly, and come to a stop ahead. She had only classified it as a vague threat because that was what she had been taught. And then there had been an arm around her waist and a sharp edge against her throat. She had taken self-defense classes. But with that icy metal against her neck suddenly everything she had learned went up into smoke. The man had walked her to the car, growling into her ear, and she hadn’t fought. She hadn’t even screamed, like she had been taught, she had not given any sound.
The man had pushed her onto the passenger seat and ordered her to put on the seat belt. Marceline had obliged, without a word. She would like to think she did it out of rationale, because she knew she couldn’t fight with a knife at her throat and in close quarters, but the truth was simple: She had been too frightened to do anything useful, she could barely form two coherent thoughts. Everything had dissolved into the paralyzing fear that she had thought she had left behind. But of course she had not. Things like this were not unlike dangerous beasts. They could be put to sleep, but they never left, and you had to pay attention, or they would tear you apart when you least expected it.
The moment she was set, he had pulled the phone she had completely forgotten about from her hand and slammed the door shut. Her phone. She could have called help any time. She had a bunch of numbers in her quick dial for that sole reason. And she hadn’t. Because she had forgotten. The thought came with the familiar wave of hopelessness and self-loathing. Good job, you stupid bitch.
The locks had closed with a final, sad clack. The man had slipped on the driver’s seat next to her, and only then Marceline recognized him. Chad had aged more than she had, more than any of her friends. He didn’t look shaggy, or neglected in any way, although she could tell he might have not taken the best care of himself in the past. He had gained weight, for one thing, and his gentleman facade, the sophistication he had always tried to convey, was gone. It was the man who haunted her in her nightmares to this day, finally showing his true self to the world.
“Been a while, sweetie,” Chad had said, and there was the honey in his voice again. Marceline could feel herself grow cold at the sound, her hands beginning to shake without her permission. Back then, she had fallen for it. He was a gentleman, a charmer, who could sugarcoat about everything. And even when this voice only promised her more pain, she had clung to the past, to the illusion that he had etched into her mind.
“Y-yes.” She couldn’t come up with anything clever. She wasn’t sure she wanted to. He had never appreciated her talking back at him.
Chad had leaned over and tried to kiss her. Marceline pushed him away with a grimace of disgust out of pure reflex. Before she could even register the movement, white lightning flashed in front of her eyes. The pain followed a moment later, heating up her cheek from icy to burning without warning. Chad’s hand had closed around her throat and he pressed his lips unto hers, forcing his tongue into her mouth. It had only lasted a moment, luckily, before Chad drew back and pushed her away. Marcy had hit her elbow on the door, but that was only a brief sting. She was fighting the urge to throw up.
It was silly, probably, but she had never felt more violated.
Nigel always asked before he did anything, although not always with words, and Marcy did the same. They had always joked about it, but it was a matter of respect for boundaries and a sign of companionship. You really never knew what you had until it was gone.
Chad hadn’t tried to touch her since then. No, that wasn’t true. He had put his hand into her lap, but she purposefully ignored his clumsy motions until he gave up with an annoyed grunt.
They’d leave town, go to a place up in the Rockies, he had explained. They could work well together from the start, or they could work together after he refreshed her lessons. She could text her friends later, that she wouldn’t be coming back for a while. She got sick of them or something.
The longer they drove, the more Marceline’s raging emotions calmed. The panic turned into a weary hopelessness. She had literally nothing on her, no money, not even an ID, and he had taken her phone. Sure, she could run away if he got distracted, but she was almost sure he was faster than her, she was wearing high heels after all, and where was she supposed to go?
Why did she have to be such an arrogant bitch and insist on going alone? Served her right for being so careless. This didn’t seem like a spontaneous action either. He had planned to do this and observed her for at least a few weeks.
“Do you… still love me?”, she asked. The question sounded even more ridiculous out loud, but she asked anyway. He had always told her that, even when he covered her body in bruises and she tasted blood every time she spoke.
As the joint Chad was aiming for came closer, he looked over to her for a second. The street lights let the shadows dance over his face in a disturbing pattern. Then he burst out laughing. It made the car swerve dangerously.
“Love you?”, he wheezed. “Have you gone completely nuts?”
Marceline winced when he squeezed her leg. His fingers dug into her thigh until it got painful and held on. “Did you actually think I ever loved you? God, you’re pathetic. You were an accessory. You had to look pretty and shut your dumb mouth, but not even that you could do. Do you realize,” His fingers squeezed so hard Marcy had to suppress a sound of pain. “Do you realize how much you humiliated me? How long I had to listen to my friends mock me because you had to shag away with a fucking middle schooler?! You ruined my reputation, you bitch, and then you just went on as if nothing happened with your fuckboy and oh-so-fabulous brother as bodyguards.” The snarl dropped from his voice as fast as it had come. He let go of her thigh and gave it a little pat. “Don’t think I’ve spent the past years brooding over you like some idiot. You’re not that special. I was ready to let it go, you know, be the bigger person. But then I saw you at the race last month, and well, I know when fate winks at me. I’m not gonna kill you, don’t worry, I won’t even hurt you if you behave. I really thought I taught you well, but I guess…” He let out another chuckle that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Chad pulled the car into the empty parking lot and shut off the engine. He stared at the lights of the joint – or diner, as the sign said – for a few seconds before turning to Marceline.
“Don’t make a fuss. You don’t want to get anyone else into this mess, right?”
Marcy didn’t speak, she only gave him a tight-lipped nod. No telling what might come out should she open her mouth now. She nodded, and kept quiet. Chad smiled and patted her cheek, which only made the pounding there worse. “Good girl. And don’t try to run away either, that never works. Just imagine we’re on our way into the holidays. Having a cozy little vacation, the two of us.”
Marcy was fairly sure she’d throw up the moment she tried to speak, so she didn’t. Chad got out of the car, locked the driver’s side, and opened her door. He kept an arm around her while they walked towards the diner, pressing her so close to his side that it was difficult to walk. She wanted to scream in disgust when he wiped away her tears right before they entered.
The owner of the place looked up when the bell chimed for them. He was young, closer to 25 than 30, with blondish hair and a sweet smile. The smile fell when he saw them. Marceline looked him into the eyes and suddenly things made sense.
Jeremy. This was Jeremy’s place. Jeremy the guy who knew more about her history than some of her close friends. Who was only open at this godforsaken time because Marcy and her boyfriend had come here too often when they couldn’t sleep anymore, when they couldn’t settle down, when they tried to chase away the ghosts with an early breakfast. Jeremy who had worked in a mental hospital before inheriting this place. Jeremy who was the closest to professional help they had ever allowed.
Marcy prayed she didn’t give an indication she even knew him. Chad couldn’t know. Jeremy could never stick up to him, not physically. But he could call help. She didn’t have high hopes, but it was all she had.
“I… I tripped,” she explained quietly. “I’m just so clumsy…” Her laugh sounded as fake as it was. “Can… I’m sorry, where is the bathroom?”
“Over there, Miss.” Jeremy pointed at a door next to the counter. “Ladies’ is on the right.”
“Kiitos,” she muttered. Chad pinched her in the side hard enough to make her gasp. “Thank you,” she corrected herself hastily. Chad walked her over to the bathrooms and peered in. Probably to make sure there were no windows she could escape through. When he found there were none, he gave a satisfied grunt and let her be.
Every motion seemed like she was moving through a thick curtain, but eventually Marcy was in a cabin, the door locked. The next second she was sitting on the floor, and tears were streaming over her face. Marceline tried to breathe evenly, consciously fighting against her body’s desire to to vocalize her desperation. She couldn’t be heard, or Chad would get suspicious. She could only hope Jeremy knew not to get close to her now.
Footsteps clacked on the tiles. The sound made Marceline freeze. If she held her breath maybe he wouldn’t hear her. But the voice wasn’t Chad’s, or Jeremy’s for that matter. It was a female voice, soft and full of worry.
“Are you okay?”, the woman asked quietly.
Marceline wasn’t prepared for the next cramp running through her. She pressed her hands over her mouth to at least dampen the sound. She knew her high notes were always really loud, if she wanted to or not. It was good for singing, but bad if she didn’t want people to know she was crying.
“No,” she whispered. “No, I’m not okay. I’m scared.”
“Who is the guy out there?”
The next words decided to come out with another sharp inhale and it made her cough. She tasted salt and copper with it. “Ex-boyfriend,” she rasped. “Jumped me on my way home. Please help.” The last words ended in a whimper.
They both stopped at a sound from the door. There was the short thump of someone being pushed, and Chad’s angry voice came at them from down the corridor.
“Who are you to tell me what to do? I gotta look after my girl, so step off.”
“Bad luck, mate, it’s not called ladies’ bathroom for nothin’. You step off.” Another series of noise, as if the two people were physically fighting for access to the door. It only lasted for a few seconds until Chad cursed and stomped off.
During the many, many early mornings Marceline had been here, there had been maybe two times when they weren’t the only customers. She couldn’t possibly that lucky. The voice outside had not been Jeremy’s, sure, but what did that mean? There had to be a catch.
The door to the bathroom creaked open. Jeremy’s voice was a little tight, but otherwise calm. “I called the Sheriff. Nigel didn’t answer his phone, but David is going to fetch him, okay? Are you in the clear for now?”
“Thank you.” Marceline could barely hear her own words, but Jeremy seemed to have heard her. The door squealed when he closed it.
“What’s your name?”, the woman asked. “I’m Brooke.”
“Marceline.” The sounds were thick and dampened by the lump in her throat.
“Should I get a look at your injuries?”, the woman asked. “I’m not a doctor yet, but your cheek is gonna swell if you don’t cool it now. There’s a med kit here.”
Injuries? Oh right. In between feeling dizzy, and cornered, and her muscles hurting from shaking so much, her pounding face had dimmed down for a few blissful moments. It was more than happy to report back after being called upon now. Despite the pain it caused, Marceline gently touched the spots that loudly declared themselves Not Okay, examining the damage. Her cheek was heated up and felt already swollen under the drying tears and touching her lip made it protest with a sharp sting. Marceline withdrew her hand, already feeling the next burst of helplessness coming. If she gave in, she would curl up whimpering, just praying someone would be there soon.
There was blood on her hand. Not just a few drops either. Her fingers, where she had touched her split lip were completely covered in red, and it had smeared all over he palm, mixed with tears and snot, all the way to the now inactive brace.
Marceline stared at her hands for several seconds, even the sobs suddenly stuck in her chest while her thoughts clicked into a working pattern.
She had her braces. Braces to protect her hands and wrists when she fell. Alpha state technology, sure, but it had held up well so far. A prototype she only had access to because Nigel volunteered as a test subject for Aperture’s new freerunning gear. “I just thought you might like it,” he had told her when she said she didn’t need it. Unlike him, she wasn’t up to do life-threatening mechanical parcours just for the thrill of it. And frankly, she didn’t trust the company. “You’re not even in the files. It’s just for fun.”
Marceline ran her fingers over the brace. Right now, it was still sitting around her wrist, only a smooth white bracelet about two inches wide. Her fingers found the button that would make it go “swoosh” and somehow envelop her hand and lower arm, granting protection from blunt or shearing forces without constricting her movement. She had no idea how it worked, only that it looked ridiculously sci-fi, and if she was being honest it scared her a bit. But there were things that scared her more, so she just had to set priorities.
She felt her face twist into something that might be a snarl, or a sneer, or even a smile, and she kept it, even if it hurt. “Olen ollut sen kanssasi, te rotta,” she hissed.
”Uh, are you okay?”, Brooke asked.
”Fine,” Marcy growled. ”I’m fine.” She struggled to her feet, her back pressed up against the side of the stall. It seemed to sway with her weight and gave a thin, fragile sound. What had she expected in here? Shelter? This ancient thing couldn’t stop Chad if he really wanted to get her. Well, it didn’t matter anymore. Now she would get him.
Marceline wiped her face with toilet paper, leaving black and red smears on the tissue. Without paying further attention to it, she opened the stall and stepped out. Her legs were still shaky, but she didn’t feel paralyzed anymore. She was done being pushed around.
As she turned, Marcy caught a short glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her already pale skin had taken on a sickly greenish tone, interlaced with red spots that stuck out almost as stark as the bloodshot eyes. Her cheek had already begun to turn purple, there was half-dried blood on her lip and she had mascara spots under her eyes. Simply put, she looked like crap.
”Are you feeling better?”
Brooke looked completely different than what Marceline had expected. She was a Latina a little shorter than Marcy, counting the high heels. She was more on the chubby side and had bright, intelligent eyes, half hidden under a fringe dyed ocean blue. The rest of her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she wore an irrationally happy polkadot dress. Her smile was tense, but had the calming quality of someone used to stress. Marcy snapped out of her revenge plans long enough to realize she knew the woman. She had seen her somewhere before. If Marceline had cared to watch, she could have seen recognition bloom in Brooke’s face at the same time. Marcy didn’t watch. She spun on her heel and marched to the door. She had something to finish.
”Uh, you probably shouldn’t go out there,” Brooke protested. Marceline didn’t listen and the woman didn’t dare to touch her. The fiercer she walked, the less she trembled. As long as the anger fueled her she was strong, but she wasn’t sure how long it would last. She almost kicked the door open before striding back into the diner.
Chad was perched up on a stool at the bar, bent over her phone with a scowl on his face and an untouched cup of coffee next to him. From the way he swiped the screen he hadn’t figured out how to unlock it yet.
In another booth, not posing an immediate threat, but close enough to reach him easily sat another man. He was roughly her age, but had a rough look to him, like an adventurer. He was tall and muscular, with his brown hair cropped short at the back and a few longer strands falling into his face in a pointedly messy fashion. He might have gone for an Indiana Jones look with the hat and leather jacket, but she should really not assume. The man’s bright green eyes focused on her and a streak of worry appeared in his features. He was half on his feet already, but hesitated when he saw the snarl on her face.
Chad didn’t have similar thoughts. He threw down the phone the moment he heard the door and stormed towards her. “All done, my dear?” He laid a hand on her arm in the mockery of a loving gesture. Marceline slapped his hand away.
“I’m not your dear, and if you’re smart-” He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her closer.
“What am I?”, he asked in a dangerously low voice. “If you start misbehaving already it seems my lessons didn’t stick with you properly.”
“Let me go,” Marceline hissed. He had her in a good grip right now, but she refused to give in to the sixteen year old girl in her head, screaming that she was just making things worse and worse, and if she backed down now it wouldn’t hurt as much. This part of her life was over.
They both turned when the bell overt he door jingled and two officers walked in, a red-haired woman with an uncanny resemblance to Amy Pond, and a dark-haired man. Marcy didn’t know them by name, but she had seen them before. Sometimes they hung out with the teenagers of the district, more making sure they were safe than controlling them. Chad’s grip on her shoulders eased a bit and he half turned around and smiled.
“We were called for an assault case?” The woman’s eyes immediately fixed on her, a wordless inquiry.
“Yes,” Marceline said. “You’ll have to arrest me I’m afraid. But please don’t interfere.”
Not only the officers blinked at her for that. Chad was the first to react.
“Excuse me,” he said to the police, before he dragged Marceline away. Before she was done trying not to fall, she was already with her back to the wall, one hand locked around her chin and the other digging into her arm. His fingers pressed on her bones, and she knew he was strong enough to break them, providing the right angle. She could feel his breath on her face, and her face scrunched up in disgust without her intent. The screaming girl in her head got louder, pleading ever more desperately to not make it worse.
“Listen up, bitch,” Chad hissed. “I don’t know what your fuckboy told you, but you’re not in charge here. I am. We’re leaving now and if you say another word you won’t like what happens next, get it?”
”Haista paska,” Marceline said flatly and punched him in the face. The white surface looked like plastic at first glance, and maybe it was, but it was plastic designed to withstand the force of a body hitting an immovable object and protect the bones within on top of it. It wasn’t as refined as Nigel’s beloved Long Fall Boots, but a face was by far not steady enough to compare to a concrete wall. Marceline felt the impact all the way to her shoulder, but the brace caught the force of the impact and swallowed it instead of leading it into her hand.
Chad didn’t have any of that protection. His nose broke with an audible crack. Chad folded like a wet rag and crashed to the floor shrieking, covering his face. Marceline looked down at her hand. The white was splattered with red at the knuckles, but now that the vibration of the punch had worn off, she didn’t feel anything. Funny, when he had grabbed her shoulder he must have forgotten she was left-handed. She pressed the button and the brace dissolved into blue light, drawing back into the ring.
Marcy swayed as a dizzy spell hit her. She might have fallen if not for a hand steadying her. When she snapped out of it, it was the Indiana Jones-looking man.
“You okay?”, he asked. Marceline nodded carefully and slipped out under his hand. She could go without that for now.
The two officers were still standing in the same spot, looking back and forth between Marceline and the whimpering Chad. Marcy made a few steps towards them and extended her arms.
“I’m ready.” The woman stared at her bruised face and then her arms, cleared her throat, looked at her partner, looked at Chad still on the floor, looked at Marceline, and then finally at Jeremy and the other two customers. They looked about as confident as a child on it’s first day of school.
“That was totally self defense,” the Indiana Jones-looking guy said. “Look at the poor gal, she must be terrified.”
“Right,” Jeremy chimed in. “Marcy, you probably wanna go home, but let me get you something to drink first. …And an ice pack.”
The red-haired woman nudged her partner and they went over to Chad. He was still lying on his side with his face covered, cussing into his hands in a shrill, whiny voice. The officers had the mercy to pull him to his feet before shackling him, lest his face touch the floor. Chad’s nose was very obviously broken, spilling blood over his face and on his shirt. Because of the wall Marcy hadn’t had much room to gather momentum, so the punch had hit him from an awkward sideways angle. He probably couldn’t even see her with his eyes watery like that, but the moment he was upright, he started cursing at her and throwing threats that probably wouldn’t help his case.
“I swear to God, I’ll make you pay for that,” he spat, quite literally. Marceline stepped back before she could be hit. “When I see you again, you’re gonna regret the day you met me, you fucking whore, I’ll slice you up I-”
“I already regret that day,” Marceline said quietly. She was feeling a headache coming, everything hurt already and she was dead tired. The anger was gone, as was the fear, at least for now. Chad was not the indestructible monster that had terrorized her for so long. He was a human, and now he looked like the pathetic narcissist he always had been.
“We’ll have to ask you to come for questioning tomorrow,” the dark-haired officer said. “Do you want to press charges?”
Marceline seriously considered saying No for a moment. She had made her point. Chad was a coward, but perhaps it was better to make sure he didn’t try anything. She wouldn’t get a better opportunity. “Yes, I’ll do that.”
“I swear to fucking Thor or whoever you believe in, if you sue me I’ll-” He was cut off by the door slamming open and a somewhat odd-looking parade storming in. For life-long friends, Nigel and David couldn’t be more different, one being spry, easily excited and the embodiment of “comment on my height and I’ll kill you”, and the other a friendly giant with lots of patience in the face of stupidity. Right behind them followed an agitated gray ball of fur that let out a warning bark at nobody in particular.
Nigel was in front of Marcy before she could even completely turn around.
“Are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt? I thought you went home, what-” He broke off. His eyes slowly scanned over her face, and then jumped to Chad, who had fallen silent and stared back. The two men looked at each other in silence, while the seconds ticked by. Chad was the first to look away, unable to hide how uncomfortable he suddenly was.
Nigel swayed his weight backwards a little bit, his face eerily calm all of a sudden, and Marceline’s only thought was Oh, shit. She looked at David, who had been quietly observing the situation. They made eye contact for a moment before his gaze wandered to his friend, and David’s eyes widened in the visual equivalent of Oh, shit.
He could barely get a hold of Nigel before the much smaller man could rip Chad to shreds.
“You motherfucker, how dare you touch her, I’ll fucking kill you, I’ll-” At this point, the other customer ran to help David, but even the two big men who weighed probably three times as much as Nigel could barely restrain him. He writhed like a serpent trying to break free and continued spitting venom at the somewhat dazed-looking Chad.
“Come on man, you’re not doing yourself a favor,” David tried to calm him down and was promptly rewarded with a kick on the shin.
“I’ll rip him to fucking pieces and feed him to the dogs!”
The police officers thought it best to ignore anything they heard and escorted Chad outside. Marceline watched the whole scene with a numb kind of calm. She was safe now, she knew that, and the adrenaline had abruptly worn off. She should probably be worried. If anything ever happened to Chad from now on, Nigel would be the prime suspect regardless of what he did. But somehow the display of rage, without any second thought, without even thinking about it, calmed her. Nigel didn’t get mad very easily, and she had never seen him like this. He was more the brooding type who translated his feelings into lyrics that made you worry about his sanity. Or his hobbies.
The door bell jingled a little more after the officers had left. They could see them put Chad in the car and the lights fading away as the patrol car disappeared down the street.
Nigel was facedown on the floor, but he had done the smart thing and stopped fighting. He was back on his feet the moment David and the other man let go, but decided to pace up and down rubbing his no doubt hurting arms instead of directing his anger at them. He was still in workout clothes, sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt, and their hands had left angry red marks on his skin. He would be badly bruised tomorrow.
David let out a sigh and rubbed his face. “Good job, dude. That sure left an impression.”
Nigel scowled at him but didn’t comment. He stopped pacing, as if he was only now remembering Marceline was still standing in the same spot, and immediately rushed over to wrap her into a hug.
“Just so you know, you’re not going anywhere alone again, get it?”, he muttered. The unnatural rage was gone, his voice was back to his somewhat teenage-sounding pitch he hated so much but Marcy thought was quite charming. Marcy nodded and pressed her face into his hair. Then she breathed and felt her nose crinkle up.
“You need a shower.”
“You don’t exactly smell like flowers either, honey,” he shot back.
Nigel eased the hug a bit but didn’t let go when he looked up at her. “Go home?”, he asked.
Marcy smiled. It would be okay. It really would. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”
** Finnish expressions **
Kiitos - Thanks
Olen ollut sen kanssasi, te rotta - I’ve had it with you, you rat (I used Google translate for that, at the slim chance a Finn is reading this, I’m so sorry if I violated your language, please correct me.)
Haista paska - Fuck you (or something along those lines)
This reminds me that my original concept of Marceline was very pretty and cultured and swore like a reindeer herder
Yeah I posted that already, but under my pale pencil doodle I realize nobody bothered to look. I don’t know if anyone wants to read it now either. If you’re actually reading this, thanks a lot.
#satoriart#writing#tw: swearing#tw: abuse#why do I always write dark shit#short story#this doesn't even count as fan fiction anymore does it?
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