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bazmichaels · 2 years

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High School - Part Four

I had a couple of dates over the winter of my senior year – with girls. The first one was awful. I went with a softball player to a basketball game. I wasn’t driving yet, so she came to pick me up. We were just very uncomfortable with each other the whole time. When the game ended, we went out to her car, and it wouldn’t start. No matter what we tried, it didn’t start, so she had to call her dad, who came down, got the car started, and then we switched cars. She drove me home in her dad’s van. We never went out again. The second date was with a girl named Lisa who was friends with my buddies, but suddenly became very flirty with me. I was driving by then, so I took her out to a movie, and it was very nice. I took her back to her house, went in and met her parents, who left us alone to make out like crazy on the couch (sorry, I know I told you this wasn’t a kissing book). I got into a bit of trouble when I got home because it was late during a heavy snowstorm, and I didn't call my mom. But after our lovely date, Lisa stopped coming around like she did before, and I was too wimpy to track her down and find out what happened. She did come over and say hi to me at a class reunion, and was flirty again, but I was married by then. I found out she was working at DARPA, so she must have been super smart. Soon it was time for tennis season. After last season, we came into this season feeling very confident. Then, at some point, we realized that we lost our four best players to graduation. That was a sobering thought. To further bring down the mood, we met our new coach, Steve Brandenberry. This dude was an assistant football coach, but not in the psycho crew, so I felt good about that. It soon became apparent, however, that he knew next to nothing about tennis. Uh oh. The first time he watched me serve, he was amazed, and he said I had the hardest serve he had ever seen. Ok, thanks for the compliment, but that was just sad. He had obviously never seen any good tennis. We eventually started calling him Coach Dingleberry behind his back when we were talking about tennis. He was super nice, and we liked him. We just had no respect for his tennis acumen. We had a real battle in the preseason practices to determine our spots on the team. It became obvious that Robbie Rowland was our number one. His dad owned a successful carpet store in town and had a nice house up the hill from the school with a tennis court in their yard. I think Robbie and I played one of our head-to-head matches at his house on a weekend. It didn’t take him long to figure out that all he had to do to hold his serve was to spin it out to my backhand, charge the net and volley my lollipop return into the open court. I only had a slice backhand at that point, and I was essentially defenseless against that play. The other guys on the team either didn’t figure that strategy out, or were unable to execute it, because I emerged as the number two singles player on the team.

That was great for me, but I knew Robbie and I were not nearly the same caliber of players that the previous #1 and #2 players were the year before. Sure enough, we scratched out a 6-9 record that year. I don’t know why there was a discrepancy between the number of matches between my Junior and Senior years. I can’t find a record of my personal match results for the season, but I suspect it was around the same as our season record. I did win the Most Improved Player award at the end of the season, so I was happy with it.

I have a few random thoughts on the season, which is somewhat fuzzy at this point. 1) My biggest upset win was against a player from Fairmont West, which was one of the rich schools in our league. The wind was howling and the wind screens on our courts (it was a home match) were tattered and torn and were doing next to nothing. I figured that with the wind blowing as hard as it was, sideways across the court, I had to swing out and hit hard. That was my jam. The other dude was probably used to playing on indoor courts at the country club, and I was having fun experimenting with different spins with and against the wind. 2) At Springfield South, they didn’t have a girls’ team, and the boys’ team had a girl on their team. She played in the #2 slot, so I played against her in our match. I beat her 6-1, 6-0, and I got ragged on by the guys on my team for losing a game. Hey, I was still far from consistent, and I had a chance of losing a game or two to anyone. Plus, she was cute and we kind of started flirting with each other on court. It was a little distracting. 3) The best player I faced was a guy from Centerville High School, by far the richest school in our league. They were the bane of my high school existence. They destroyed us all 3 years in football, wrestling, and tennis. They probably beat us in every sport. Even when our team was so good in tennis last year, they beat us 5-0. I played a dude that was one of best players in the greater Dayton area and got a scholarship to play for the University of Cincinnati Bearcats (A Bearcat, also known as a Binturong, is neither a bear nor a cat – it’s a weasel. It’s also native to Southeast Asia, which is nowhere near Cincinnati, Ohio. I suspect you knew that last part. But I digress.) I was prepared to take my beating, and I did, but I managed to serve out a game in each set to keep my streak going – I was outmatched several times, but I never lost a set at 6-0. I was kind of proud of that. I played a few tournaments in the summer and won some matches here and there and kept getting better. Probably the most important activity I did in high school, that helped me in the long run was being a computer lab assistant. I had a natural affinity for programming computers and a talent for it. We had a fairly small computer lab with maybe three video terminals hooked up to a mainframe somewhere, I think at a local college.

We also had a printer that used that green-striped printer paper with all the holes on the sides, and a paper terminal that printed both what you typed and what the output was on paper.

You could store a program on a strip of pink paper with holes in it, and then run it later by feeding the tape through a reading slot.

The D&D type guys that I mentioned earlier would play adventure games on that terminal. I only played a Star Trek game on that one – it was pretty good. But I spent most of my time in the lab experimenting with writing different programs in the BASIC programming language. Just simple stuff like printing out text to the screen, writing for-loops and if-then-else statements, some math functions, etc. I helped people with their projects if they came into the lab, which was ostensibly what our jobs were as lab assistants, but we mostly just had free access to the computer lab. I learned a lot through hands on experimentation and repetition. I will now share a very important nugget of information that I learned in the computer lab that has nothing to do with computers or coding.

One spring afternoon, I found myself alone in the computer lab with the lovely Terri Wilkins, a fellow lab assistant. She was a popular girl, a cheerleader, and she was always invited to the cool kids’ parties because she was pretty and sweet, even though she didn’t seem to ‘party’. You can locate her in the picture above sitting down on the bottom right of the steps in the white dress. It was a rare occasion for me to be alone with her at any time, and we were having a nice chat. At one point, she asked me the following question: “Are you taking anyone to Prom?” At first, I was in shock, and I didn’t know how to speak, much less what to say. I eventually mumbled something indicating that I hadn’t asked anyone, and I probably wouldn’t go, and I’d never been to a school dance, and I didn’t know how to dance, and I hated disco music – which was all true, but it was objectively the wrong answer to that question. Can anyone out there tell me the correct answer? OK, it looks like all of you. What was it? Right. The only correct answer would have been: “No, I haven’t asked anyone yet. Would you like to go with me?” That is the lesson for today, for everyone that is or will be in high school. I saw that she went to the Prom with John McCurdy, my buddy from the football team. They made a nice couple. I, of course, did not attend the aforementioned disco fest, for I do not care for such music. Plus, I had many important things to do that night. Very important. Many things. Here are a few other random things I remember from high school. I couldn’t figure out a good narrative to introduce them, so these are a la carte anecdotes that I’m just including because I still remembering them.

HOMECOMING TP ADVENTURE – My senior year I found out about a school tradition that we apparently had for thousands of years. Every year on the night before the big Homecoming Day, the seniors on the football team would TP the houses of the cheerleaders, and the cheerleaders would do the same to the senior football players’ houses. I don’t know what the cheerleaders’ modus operandi was, but we all piled into the back of someone’s pickup truck, drove to a convenience store, bought the place out of its toilet paper stock, and whoever was 18 bought some nasty 3.2% beer, and then we all piled back in the truck with our supplies. It would be helpful if I could tell you how many of us there were, but I can’t remember, and I don’t know how to look it up. Suffice it to say that we had a completely full pickup truck bed full of football players, holding toilet paper and beer. Someone came up with a route between all the houses we needed to visit that night, and we headed out for the first house. When we got there, we just started chucking toilet paper rolls up into the biggest tree in the yard – no rhyme or reason to it. As we were going from house to house, we passed by one of the football players’ houses, and its yard was decorated like friggin’ Disneyland. It was gorgeous. At some point during our journey, we caught the attention of a local police officer. We ever-so-slyly lay down in the bed of the truck, so as not to be seen be the police officers in the car following us. We were geniuses! Just a truck driving down the road. Nothing to see here. Then the moron driving the truck sped up and went over the speed limit. The lights flashed. We pulled over. We nervously smiled and nodded to the officers as they walked up and peered into the bed of the truck. Since we were upholding a time-honored tradition, the officers were well aware of what we were up to. They made sure the driver wasn’t drinking, wished us good luck on the game, and went about their business. When I got home, my yard, too was decorated with ribbons and bows made of toilet paper. Beautiful.

MOVIES – I went to some movies with Chip and the boys. One of the most memorable ones was the original Halloween. It was the first popular slasher movie of its time, and, frankly, it freaked us out. For some damn reason, the exit of the theater took us into a dark alley with hedges all along the way. Fun note, the movie’s murderous villain mysteriously appears from and disappears into hedges throughout the movie.

I was there with a bunch of burly, macho, manly, young athletic men, and every time the wind blew the leaves on the hedges, we peed our pants a little and tried not to scream like little girls. Others we saw (that I liked) were Grease, Animal House, Superman, Heaven Can Wait, Foul Play, The Amityville Horror, Apocalypse Now, The Jerk, Alien, 10, Meatballs, The Warriors, Life of Brian, and North Dallas Forty. I went to see Star Trek: The Motion Picture with my mom. She and I were both huge Star Trek fans, and it was so cool watching her watch the Star Trek universe take place on the big screen.

One motion picture that needs a special explanation is called The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I was a senior in high school and the movie had been out for a few years, but I hadn’t heard of it. So, one night, my friends and I went to a movie theater in Dayton, and they brought along some weird stuff like toast and newspapers and squirt guns. We walked into the theater and the president of our student council, and several of his student government cohorts were running around at the front of the theater spraying the audience with super soakers, and getting sprayed back, and everyone was laughing and having fun. Then the movie started.

It was super goofy at first. Then the audience participation part started, and people sprayed water when it was raining on the screen, holding newspapers over their heads like the characters in the movie, throwing toast in the air when someone on the screen raised a glass and said, “A toast!”. Certain lines in the movie elicited canned, often hilarious, responses from the audience.

And then – and then, it got super gay, and kept getting gayer and gayer and gayer. Now, this was small-town Ohio in the 70s, and every guy who wasn’t (secretly) gay themselves was completely homophobic. I mean, I didn’t know anyone who would go out and beat up gay men, but no one I knew was supportive of gay rights, and we all casually used gay-bashing terms that I eventually realized were inappropriate and hurtful. But during this movie, everyone was fine with super, super gay stuff happening on screen. Some of my super-macho friends bought the soundtrack and sang along with the songs, including “Sweet Transvestite, from Transexual Transylvania”. Interesting. I grew out of my homophobic attitudes as I got older and moved further away from Dayton, Ohio, by the way. I’m still personally very straight, but I’m completely supportive of those who are not. Love is love. Sex between consenting adults is none of my business.

KING’S ISLAND – I made a few trips to a big amusement park between Dayton and Cincinnati called King’s Island. I think I might have gone with my family once or twice, but I mostly went with Chip and the boys. The park was growing at that time, so there would be new rides that popped up between visits sometimes. The most anticipated ride that we heard about was The Beast – the largest wooden roller coaster in the world.

It was the summer, so the line was very long. In the early afternoon that day, the skies opened up and dumped a biblical amount of rain on the park. Everyone scrambled to leave the park as soon as they could. We waved goodbye to all the weather wimps and hightailed it to The Beast. We practically walked on to the ride as the line had quickly disintegrated. We rode the coaster in the pouring rain and ran back around to the entrance and ran through all the empty lanes to get right back on and go again. I don’t know how many times in a row we went, but it was a lot. We eventually went on some other rides. We basically had the park all to ourselves. All we had to do was be good with getting wet on a warm summer day. It was a great day.

COLLEGE/FOOTBALL DECISIONS – I was accepted into several colleges, but I needed to pick one. We wouldn’t be able to visit any of the schools, so I needed to choose my college sight unseen. It’s a good thing I had the Internet to research everything I needed to know. Oh, wait, I had to see what information I could find in books. I decided to start by comparing raw data from the book I had that listed information about all the schools in the country. Ohio State was the best school with the highest profile – a degree from OSU would hold the most weight of any of the inexpensive schools I applied to. Its enrollment was already over 50,000 students on campus. That seemed too big. I also mentioned earlier that the football program was too good for me to walk on to. I finally decided on Western Kentucky University. It didn’t have a sterling academic reputation, but it was the best I could do on a budget. I sent in my acceptance form and that was it. Next, I had to decide whether to try to walk on to the football team. My friend Buddy Phillips, who got his job taken away when Coach Cra-Cra installed a running/option offense, had been talking to the coach at Murray State University about walking on, was down at our field one day when I was doing my kicking practice. He was doing passing drills with a guy that was playing for Murray State, which was a division 1-AA football program that happened to play in the same conference (the Ohio Valley Conference) as Western Kentucky. He saw me punting and when he found out I was going to WKU, he told me I could easily walk on there. I called the head football coach, Jimmy Feix, and told him I was going to WKU and was an all-league kicker/punter, and he said to come on out for the team and he would send me the information I needed. That was easy. I was going to be a college football player! The only problem is that I didn’t have access to my high school weight room, and I couldn't lift weights over the summer. I still practiced kicking, though.

JIMMY FEIX PLAYED QB FOR WKU FROM 1949-1952. IN 1952, HE BECAME THE FIRST WKU ATHLETE TO BE NAMED AN ALL-AMERICAN. DRAFTED BY THE NFL'S NEW YORK GIANTS, HE UNFORTUNATELY SUFFERED AN INJURY DURING A 1953 PRE-SEASON GAME FORCING HIM TO GIVE UP HIS PLAYING CAREER. HE TOOK OVER AS WKU HEAD COACH IN 1968 AND BECAME THE WINNINGEST HEAD COACH IN WKU FOOTBALL HISTORY.

SOBRIETY - High School was when I first had to start choosing whether I would ‘party’ or not. I was under the legal drinking age the whole time I was in high school, and smoking weed was illegal. One of my life goals has been to stay out of prison. Seriously. Try being a Hispanic young male in a White community. That included juvenile prison, so that just made my decision easier. I was not only worried that I would get caught and arrested, but in the back of my mind, I was afraid I would lose control of my senses and do something stupid and/or dangerous. I had heard the rumors about my father being violent, and I had seen a few people do some really dumb things when they were messed up. I would have been much more popular if I had chosen to ‘party’ with the cool kids but being popular wasn’t worth the risk to me. This was just the start of a lifelong pressure campaign for me to go against my instincts.

#memoir #high school

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alexguerinss · 3 years

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title: you're spring to me, all things to me (cross-posted on ao3)

summary: the one where malex are roommates and don't realize they're basically dating. alex pov.

notes: this is a remix of @lire-casander's amazing fic, with your kiss my life begins but from alex's pov. i hope i did this justice :)

“Alex, you okay?” Alex turned to see Forrest looking at him with what could only be concern in his eyes.

Alex simply nodded, before giving Forrest a strained smile.

“Is this about Michael?” Forrest asked bluntly and Alex winced, knowing Forrest knew his answer.

Alex bit his lip, before nodding slowly. The blue-haired man could only laugh at Alex’s struggle, which earned him a glare. Michael was his best friend and roommate, but hiding his feelings for him was incredibly hard.

“Hey, you’re the one who asked me to pretend this was a date, even though you know I like Kyle and you like Michael. I didn’t say it was going to be easy.” Alex opened his mouth to respond, wanting to let Forrest down easy about Kyle, but closed his mouth thinking better of it.

He could tell him tomorrow.

“Okay, let’s go in. Liz will kill me if we’re late.” Alex grabbed Forrest by the hand and pulled him towards the bar, but stopped short of going inside, a fresh rush of nerves settling over him.

When Alex Manes first met Michael Guerin, he took note of the ripped jeans, his curly hair, his smile that he only gave to those he trusted, and his mangled hand and decided they were going to be best friends.

Alex thought nothing of his feelings for Michael. They were best friends and best friends cared about each other, right? His 14 year old mind couldn’t fathom a world without Michael in it, and he never wanted to.

He never noticed when his feelings had changed to more than just friends.

He had Michael over to watch Star Wars one summer night before 10th grade. The two of them were laughing and throwing popcorn at each other, Michael was sitting with his arm around Alex, and Alex laid his head on his shoulder. He did the same with Liz and Maria all the time when they came over, he didn't see the big deal. But he knew something was wrong as soon as Michael left the house after their movie marathon, and his father grabbed him roughly by the arm.

“Dad?” He asked, trying to pull his arm out of his tight grip. “You’re hurting me.”

“You are not to see this Guerin boy again.”

Alex looked at him confused. “We’re just friends.”

“Don’t think I don’t see through your perversions.”

“Dad, I -” The slap caught him off-guard, a stinging blow against his cheek that set his skin ablaze. The sound echoed in the room and his dad yanked him closer, ready to raise his hand again.

“I’m sorry!” Alex yelled out, watching as his father’s hand froze. He could feel his dad shaking with anger, and he kept the tears at bay. He would not cry in front of him.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Jesse sneered, his grip loosened slightly, and Alex could feel the bruise already forming on his arm. He had no doubt he already had a red mark across his cheek.

“I won’t see Michael Guerin again.” Alex responded, lying through his teeth.

His dad finally let go of his arm, and he ran up the stairs.

He needed to call Michael.

Alex was standing outside the bar, holding Forrest’s hand and trying not to break out into a sweat. He was brought out of his thoughts of the past as he felt a pressure on his hand and he looked down to see Forrest squeezing his hand in support.

“Come on,” Forrest all but dragged Alex through the door.

As Alex stepped foot on the wooden floors of the bar, covered in spilled beer and peanut shells, he took a deep breath.

He could do this.

He walked towards his group of friends, noting Michael nearby, and he broke out into a grin.

“Hey guys!” Alex quickly let go of Forrest’s hand, before putting his arm around his shoulders.

“This is Forrest,” Alex might as well get the introduction out of the way, not wanting the night to be awkward. As he watched Forest wave at them all, he spoke up again. “Forrest, this is like, everyone who’s important in my life.”

As everyone greeted Forrest, Alex noticed Michael make a quick exit and frowned.

Maybe bringing Forrest to the party was a bad idea, but he needed someone who was an outsider to all the drama. Meeting Forrest in his Music History class was just good fortune for Alex, who was always struggling to meet friends who were gay like him.

He knew Michael was bisexual, but he was always sleeping with women, and Alex thought he didn’t stand a chance. Alex thought nothing of it when Michael would always come back to their dorm rather than stay the night with the women he was hooking up with. Maybe he should have.

“Hey, Maria, is Michael okay?” Alex looked at his childhood best friend, and she looked at him before sighing, “Yeah, it’s just Guerin being Guerin.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt him by bringing Forrest,” Alex stated apologetically.

“I know sweetie,” she responded. “I’ll go see where Guerin went.” She walked out of the bar and went in search of her friend, and Alex turned back to the group and saw Liz being very drunk and Forrest trying and failing to flirt with Kyle.

Liz looked over at Alex smirking, before raising her arm and putting her uncoordinated limb over his shoulder.

“Alex, why is Mikey sad, and why are you two not making out?”

“Liz, we’re just friends,” Alex said, trying to keep Liz steady as she wobbled on her feet.

“I thought you guys were secretly dating!” She exclaimed, the red solo cup in her hand sloshing beer over the top of her cup, and Alex watched as it hit the floor.

He couldn’t help but laugh, knowing how Liz got when she was drunk, before he helped her over to sit down at a table, asking a passing bartender for a water.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because Mikey looooooves you, and you are both oblivious.” She stated matter of factly for someone who was practically slurring her words.

“Hey, Max. You may want to help sober up the birthday girl. I need to go find Michael!” Alex said, kissing Liz on the forehead and watching as Max came over to help Liz.

Shaking his head and looking away from the couple, he went towards where he saw Maria exit and almost ran into her in his haste to get outside.

He immediately noticed Michael sitting against the building and he looked on in worry. Michael looked so small, and Alex suddenly didn’t know what to do about it.

Michael was the one who was always larger than life. He was always there protecting Alex. After dealing with the abuse of his dad and finally being able to not be under his dad’s clutches after his arrest, Michael was there for him, helping him with his nightmares and his injuries.

After Alex saw what Michael had to deal with before he was able to move into a healthy, loving home with Sanders, Alex didn’t know how Michael could do it. Love him like he did. Alex just shut down after the news of the abuse he endured came out into the public. He hid himself, until Michael brought him out of his shell.

Now, Alex stood frozen outside the main door of the bar watching Michael fold in on himself.

Move Alex.

“Michael?” He asked, pretending he hadn’t been standing there silently for the last thirty seconds.

Michael didn’t seem to hear him or maybe he was ignoring him. Alex deserved that at the very least for bringing Forrest to the bar.

He cleared his throat before speaking out again, “Michael, hey, you’re here.” An unconscious pull made his feet finally start moving as he made his way over to the other man.

The other man didn’t even look up as he spoke. “Go back inside. I’m pretty sure Forrest will be looking for you if you don’t.”

“Well, I know for a fact that he won’t.” Alex let out a breath. He could do this.

“How so?” Michael asked, his tone almost sharp in question. Alex bit his lip. He didn’t want to make Michael anymore upset, so he really needed to just come out with it.

“Well, I guess it has something to do with the fact that we’re just friends, and he’s currently trying to hit it off with Kyle.”

Michael was in the process of getting up as he heard that and almost fell over, grabbing the wall for support.

“Kyle? But didn’t you two go out on a date just tonight?”

Alex sighed, “It wasn’t a date Michael.” He really needed to assure him and he continued speaking. “It was just two friends catching up after a while, and him asking me to set him up with Kyle because he’s been pining over him for the longest time.”

Michael could only groan in response. “But you said it was a date. I thought-”

“I know what you thought,” Alex knew he needed to confess this sooner or later. “I wanted you to think that, to be honest. I wanted you to feel what I felt whenever you went out with one of those girls.”

He watched as Michael looked at him, his curls falling over his eyes, and Alex wished he could take a step forward and brush them out of his eyesight.

“It’s been a while since that,” Michael replied, and Alex had to agree. He realized that Michael had not actually slept with anyone in a while. He never thought anything of it until now.

Michael continued, “Wait, what? You wanted me to be jealous because you were jealous of those girls?”

Alex could only shrug in response. “I wanted you to see me. I’ve been feeling invisible around you for so long, and I just wanted you to-”

“Did you know our friends thought we were dating?” Alex looked at him, ignoring how he was interrupted and watched as Michael spoke again. “Only I thought we weren’t dating. Did you?”

Alex shook his head, letting out a laugh. “I’m sure we would have noticed if we were dating.” He looked away from Michael’s face. “I for sure would have known, with how I feel-”

“I didn’t,” Michael confessed, and Alex raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t want to believe we were dating even if all the signs were there because, Alex, I just didn’t want to lose you.”

Alex eyebrow went even higher at the statement, “Why would you lose me?” He watched as Michael covered his mouth with his hand, making an unintelligible noise.

Michael looked at Alex, “I love you.” The confession came out so quickly that Alex wasn’t even sure if he heard correctly.

“I know, Michael, I love you too. You’re my best friend.”

Michael could only shake his head, “No, no. No, Alex, I am in love with you.” He blew out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry I just figured it out.”

Alex’s eyes widened, “But I thought you’d never-oh my god. I thought you said you’d never date a guy. I didn’t want to keep my hopes up, I just-oh my god.”

MIchael huffed out a laugh, “You’ve already said that.” Alex could only stare at Michael, unable to speak.

“I love you, Alex. I know we wasted so much time, but Maria’s got me thinking and then you’ve come out here and you’ve said that Forrest and you aren’t a thing and I just-a guy can hope, can’t he?”

Alex noticed how nervous Michael seemed and took a step forward and gently put his hands on his face, before he kissed him. Before he could pull back, Michael was kissing him back. Alex’s eyes widened, before he felt the kiss deepen. Alex felt like he was under a wave, not knowing when he was going to come up for breath again.

When they finally separated, Alex was looking at Michael, whose hazel eyes were burning into his face, and he knew what he needed to say.

“I love you,” he kissed Michael on the lips again and came up for a breath of air. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

They would tell their friends tomorrow. All Alex wanted to do right then was feel Michael’s lips on his and let the words wash over him.

“I love you.”

#malex #alex manes #michael guerin #roswell new mexico #malexremix #malexremix2021 #malex fic #my fic

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quietepics · 3 years

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𝐆𝐈𝐆𝐈'𝐒 𝐁𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 ( part one of three , i hope )

❝ WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY’RE NOT LETTING YOU IN ? that’s not-- ... of course i gave you the right name , i know my dad’s name ! ❞ manicured fingertips keep a tight hold on the phone , her voice being the perfect mixture between a shout and a whisper . she wouldn’t dream of letting any of her fellow demigods know that the man coming to family day was no more than a paid actor whose resemblance to the girl was decent enough . after being in nemean lion for over a decade , it didn’t surprise genevieve that people had grown curious about her family to the point where questions were asked left and right ; in fact , it was those very questions that prompted her to hire someone . it was easier that way .

now , if only her rented father could make it past the entrance . ❝ did you tell them to check the list ? check it again , i don’t care ! tell them you’re lou-- ... ❞ heart drops to the bottom of her stomach , her gentle skin becoming stone cold as she mulls over the words coming from the phone . ❝ ... what do you mean ‘ he’s already here ’ ? he wouldn’t-- ❞ though she kept the device close to her ear , genevieve was anything but listening to the voice on the phone , dozens of thoughts running back and forth through her brain , gaze shifting across all sides of the garden . something akin to despair seemed to take over the ambassador . what did he mean her dad was already there ? it had to be a lie , a prank of some sort . maybe an impostor , was she in danger ? was she about to get murdered during an important event ?! such a sad way to go ... but at least her outfit was cute .

❝ i’m sorry , what did you-- ... no , of course i’m not paying you ! if you’d gotten here on time then this wouldn’t be happening ! ❞ the girl lectured with a roll of her eyes , almost forgetting about the bigger trouble she was currently facing . ❝ i hired you to act as my father , kyle . you didn’t even make it through the gates ! seriously , why would i pay you for doing less than the bare minimum ?! i have to go , bye bye ! ❞ quickly , she hung up the phone and shoved it inside her pearly clutch , inhaling a deep breath in attempt to collect herself . hopefully safiye hadn’t poofed out of existence while gigi was busy on the phone .

in a swift , graceful turn on her heel , the blonde walked up to her half - sister , a bright smile on her lips . ❝ i’m so sorry , lovely , i just had to answer that call ! it was my dad , you see ; he’s a little-- ❞

❝ late , i’m afraid . ❞ a voice echoed in the air , one genevieve could barely recall until this very moment . her eyes went wide , leaving her hoping that safiye wouldn’t notice it . if the gods had any sort of mercy on her , especially in this situation , then they would let her clear expression of surprise go unnoticed .

❝ i guarantee i am usually very punctual but , if i may be frank , jetlag has made an enemy of me . ❞ the frenchman proceeded with a chuckle --- the charming and apologetic kind , naturally . it was then that the ambassador dared to look at him . he looked exactly like she remembered , but better . sober , cleaner , like someone who had a complete grasp of their life ; the exact opposite of the father she once had . there were no dark circles around his eyes and his hair , albeit long for male haircut standards , looked like that of a male lead in a stereotypical romance movie , silky & smooth . his clothes , though definitely not haute couture , weren’t cheap nor second hand either ; if anything , they were better coordinated than anything she remembered seeing him wear , and it made gigi wonder if someone else had picked them for him . then again , she knew that her father was writer , a poet , and a poet is , if anything , a pretender .

next thing genevieve knew , he was offering a hand for the other girl to shake . ❝ louis gautier , at your service , ❞ he introduced himself , pearly white teeth shining through a smile . ❝ it is an honor to meet one of gigi’s friends- ❞

❝ sister , papa . ❞ the blonde corrected , lips pressed together in a thin smile . ❝ she’s also my half sister . ❞

❝ sister ? ... oh , ❞ realization dawned upon him , causing the man to laugh despite of himself . ❝ yes , of course . i suppose this is but one big family meeting after all . ❞

❝ so it seems ! ❞ the blonde exclaimed , maintaining a forced yet ever polite grin on her lips . then , she turned to the other girl . ❝ i’ll catch up with you later , okay sa ? gotta give dad a little tour of the place ! ❞ that , and she would be damned if her ruined her reputation . locking her arm with the man’s , she started to lead her father away from where they stood , silence filling the empty air for a dozen seconds or so . then , with a smirk on his lips , louis spoke up .

❝ hiring an actor to pose as me , genevieve ? i never knew you were so ingenious . ❞ the idea makes him laugh , not as a mockery but at the mere fact that it is , at the end of the day , a silly but brave idea . ❝ wherever did you learn such things , chérie ? ❞

❝ certainly not with you . ❞ a simple , cold answer , one that didn’t quite match the smile she was parading for anyone who might be looking their way . ❝ why are you here anyway ? it’s not like i invited you , ❞ she wasn’t that crazy .

❝ you didn’t have to , my dear . is it truly that unbelievable that i would come visit my only child ? ❞

❝ thirteen years later ? yes , yes it is . ❞ gigi replied , to which she was presented with nothing but silence . she wouldn’t dare to look up at him , for the empty air was enough for the blonde to know exactly what to expect from the look on her father’s face ; a deer caught in the headlights , perhaps a bit of anguish too .

with a heavy sigh , she spoke again . ❝ and yet , i have no choice but to welcome you and show you around . consider this a favor --- maybe it’ll give you something to write about . ❞

#omg bloom is that a jojo reference #lmao anyway idk what this is but let the chaos begin ig #this is way too long and very bad but hey we love ✨ character development ✨#♡ · 　event .　 * . homecoming : across the galaxy #♡ · 　𝑔𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓋𝒾𝑒𝓋𝑒 .　 * . study

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princekoo · 3 years

Text

goodnight n go | one | pjm.

pairing. single dad! jimin x female teacher! reader

synopsis. jimin was a single dad of three and one unfortunate mishap caused him to meet you: his best friend’s coworker and daughter’s teacher. will feelings of petty loathing develop into something more?

genre/prompt. fluff, angst

word count. 4.3k

content. jimin is a pole dancer and has 3 kids as well as is 9 years older than oc. even if they’re both well over legal age, if that makes you uncomfortable, please consider not reading. thank you <3

writer’s note. I deleted it originally because I was unhappy with it as I wrote it when I was younger and didn’t have much experience in writing and my approach to it wasn’t as elaborate as the one I managed to develop all these months of practicing. so! here she is! she’s longer and has less parts so you won’t be annoyed with the constant changing haha. an important thing to note is that the oldest son’s name Songyoon was changed to Haneul, the little girl’s name Sooyeon was changed to Eunbyul, and the youngest’s name Sanghoon was changed to Hayun as their names were too similar and made it difficult to remember who was who. There was also many major plot changes as well as small ones, so it’s somewhat completely different to the earlier version. Anyways! Enjoy :)

parts. one / two

The window curtains glittered under the moonlight’s loving, motherly kiss, this gentle caress closely similar to the unnaturally blond man’s embrace of a little girl–his precious little girl– in his arms. She was quite positively almost a copy of himself, down to his natural jet-black hair and plump, pink lips. The expensive curtains—most notably one of the most expensive things in the vicinity as what his little one wants his little one gets— danced with the wind let in by the open window softly, bringing the loud car horns and yelling of bustling city life with it. They’d been rendered to a simple ambient hum, considering how high up in the building they lived, however. The glitter scattered all throughout its length caused it to look like various constellations spread gracefully, causing his little one to refuse any other option that wasn’t it, unfortunately for his bank account. The neon lights of signs outside their New York City apartment, which would otherwise be annoying, entered only carefully tonight, as if to not disturb the gentle moment between the father and daughter.

“And so, the little princess was elated! The dragon had taken her to his cave filled with shiny little things all around, away from the princess life she hated.”

The raven-haired girl’s little eyes had shined in anticipation; the blonde man often mused it seemed like the night sky was trapped in her gaze since her birth, hence her name. She practically shook from excitement, her little brain unable wrap itself around how the princess pulled it all off so effortlessly! She didn’t know what to do with herself, so she clung to her dad’s silk night shirt as tight as her little fists would let her (which kind of hurt but he wasn’t going to stop her, he loved her too much to repress her). She liked to think of herself as close to that of a big, scary typhoon. He begged to differ with the more accurate description of the whirlpool one makes when circling their fingers in water repeatedly.

“The dragon taught her all she came to know! He taught her to read and write. Taught her to do basic things and they lived happily for just a few months. Then, the guards in the palace found her and came to get her! Do you know what they assumed, my beautiful little star?” Jimin had started looking at her fondly, the term of endearment coming out in their native tongue of Korean, accent prominently and endearingly laced in his English, soothing into every word he spoke. The nickname made her chest fill with warmth and her cheeks puff in reluctant happiness. No matter how many times her dear daddy would say it, it was her very own little term of endearment. Just for her and no one else. She loved it.

“That he was a big scary mean dragon! Right, daddy?!”

Jimin beamed at her intelligence. Then again, he does read her this story whenever she asks—and that’s nearly every weekend. He tickled her and held her tightly in his arms, her soft giggles reaching his ears just as the melodies he would dance to as a young boy would. Although he could still fit her in his arms, she was getting big. Give it two more years and he couldn’t do this anymore with her, hold her without difficulty and discomfort. The thought of such a cruel future made his heart sink a little. He had to stop himself often from thinking about how she would act when she became a teenager, it would be too much for his fragile heart to handle.

Jimin had always chastised her, as he was the only parent she had left. He took care of her and taught her valuable life lessons, sang her to sleep, and learned to make pretty hairstyles “just like a princess”, she’d say. He corrected her when needed as well as took on the role of both mother and father to her younger brother, Hayun (she preferred to call him Sunny after Jimin told her the meaning in English, which always made his heart melt), which was only a month old when their mother decided to pack her bags. Her older brother, although still a junior in high school, helped as much as he could to alleviate the toll that taking on both roles took on Jimin.

He was a great father, as one wouldn’t really expect. He was the right mixture of incredibly compassionate, well-humored, and empathetic with a dash of sternness to go along with it. He wasn’t a tyrant ruler, he listened to all three–well two, Hayun hasn’t even been able to string together a coherent longer-than-3-words sentence, only simple sentences, as a toddler does– and implemented all change that was agreed on by the majority. He always tried to pay equal attention to all of them, although most of it went to her younger brother. She didn’t mind though, she enjoyed playing with her older brother, Haneul. Jimin always packed him lunch, even as he whined that he didn’t have to do that, but he always enjoyed when he did it. She knew, noticing he always left to school with a small smile on his lips after.

Jimin has to assume complete responsibility once their… “mother” … turned up one day and decided she wanted nothing to do with her kids anymore. After taking her routine every night visit to the bar, she found someone older. Wealthier. “Much more fun” and “like you used to be before they showed up” she also gracefully added. Not like it was his fault he’d grown up once his first child was born, unlike her. Always looking for convenient fun, never tied down to anything. Proposing to her would just be in vain since it’s not like she would’ve accepted marriage anyway. Even during high school, when she first had come to him announcing her pregnancy, he knew how little care she held for him. She always thought of him as harmless fun, a man on the side and he couldn’t say the same of himself. The first child was purely an accident, the other two was him desperately trying to convince himself it could all work out and she could change. After their third, he knew how wrong he was. He held feelings for her at one point, although, with time, it all disappeared. He could only hold feelings of loathing towards her at that point. She thought of the kids as nuances. She got sick of it. Sick of him. Sick of having just one person to kiss. She couldn’t be tied down, but just because he knew that, it didn’t mean it hurt any less. She’d left once Hayun was born, but Eunbyul didn’t know why. She always thought she didn’t love them anymore after seeing her mom with a man that looked uglier than her daddy for sure, but she seemed happy. Her mom said something to her before she’d left, looked at her weird, and screamed at her dad some more, but she couldn’t remember what it was. Often, she’d ponder when her mommy was coming back. Well, not like she could, anyway. They did move across the globe after, from Busan to New York, with no way to contact them. She didn’t mind not having a mommy for now, though, it’s not like she was ever home before anyway. It was always comfortable with daddy.

“Daddy! Please continue the story! Why’d you stop?! Pleeeeeeease…!” She pouted and looked up at him with those puppy eyes children knew to use when they wanted something to make their parents cave in fast in response to his hesitance to continue the story, her fake tiara skewing just a little to the side. One day, he’ll buy her a new one. One with diamonds and various other gems. His features seemed to light up and playfully mirror her own, his nose scrunching up as well. She, of course, as a sensitive, princess-y 4-almost-5-year-old, did not know how to differentiate someone being mean between someone playing, so she smacked him on the shoulder as hard as she could in her blind anger. Jimin yelped at the contact and sobered up, expression turning stern. Had she messed up? Did she do something wrong? Daddy’s face did the same face he always did when he was mad at her for doing something wrong. Eyes sharp. Lips in a straight line. Eyebrows drawn together.

“Eunbyul, you can’t hit anyone ever, you hear me? Especially me...” His voice was stern, but less confident as he trailed off. One look in her eyes and one could easily tell she was on the verge of tears. Why had the atmosphere changed so much? Why did the breeze still? Why was it so hot all of a sudden, but just on her face? Her tears were almost spilling out of her doe eyes, so his expression softened and panic flashed through his face. He had too soft a spot for her.

“...Not without expecting payback!” He announced out as a save and initiated a tickle attack by removing his arms supporting her back and wiggling them on her sides, causing a sea of reluctant giggles and laughter to erupt from her lips, tears of sadness now turned into ones of happiness. A wave of relief passed through her consciousness. He wasn’t mad at her anymore!

After he stopped tickling and her giggles piped down, he took her in his arms again and minimally rocked her back and forth again, attempting to continue the story. She gazed into his eyes. There, were two crescent moons filled with stars picked carefully right from the universe. They held warm nights of him wrapped in a blanket and always holding her in his arms while rocking her back and forth, looking back at her like she was his most valuable treasure. Nights of drinking lukewarm chocolate and sharing it with her while telling her countless stories he remembered or made up, her brother’s occasional snorting making her giggle. Those crescent pools of love staring right back at her with so much fondness, she couldn’t not trust him. He loved what he created with every inch of his being, even if she resembled her mother somewhat. She never felt so safe in any other person’s hold, even in Haneul’s. She felt safe and happy, sure, but not to the extent of her dad’s.

Pouting and closing his eyes as well as lifting his head up high in mocked snub, he opened one of his closed eyes.

“Well, if you’re done being rude, I’d like to finish this story for this week.”

A beat of silence went by as she looked at him with slight shame and tucked her head against his armpit. He sighed, breathily chuckled and shook his head slightly.

“You were right, princess. They did think he was a big, mean, and scary dragon that took the pretty little princess as his own treasure! The princess came back from getting berries just before the guards decided to kill the dragon!”

A gasp. A smile.

“She explained what happened and the guards decided to keep to themselves that they had seen the princess. The dragon and the princess lived what, my little star?”

“Happily ever after, right, daddy?!” She looked at her dad excitedly, completely engrossed in the story despite it being probably the hundredth time he told it to her since her birth.

A pause.

“That’s right, my love. The end…”

Although little Eunbyul understood simple Korean, she could barely speak it. Jimin planned on teaching her a little more down the line. Now, she barely understood some of the words, any longer than two syllables being too dang hard for her little brain to grasp at this late hour, right before her bedtime, but she didn’t care at this time. Not when his soothing voice graced her ears with the background noise only that of the far away beep of cars, the rhythmic rumbling in his chest every time he’s uttered a word soothing her to sleep. As she laid there in his arms, fast asleep, little snores leaving her nose, all that was in his mind was how he could never bear losing her.

He felt absolutely heartbroken and stressed, raising three kids on his own was unbearably hard. He loved them so much he had to look for a job in this new country. A job that paid well but let him work while the kids were asleep so he could care for them while they were awake.

He also made friends with his co-workers and shift manager, so it wasn’t too bad re-adjusting. They barely hired new employees since they had a very high criteria, so he barely had to deal with new hires that made his job harder. His kids are growing up, though. He knew that. He feared they would leave like their mother did almost two years ago, so he’d decided to enjoy them and raise them as well as he could while it lasted. He was scared they’d decide they were sick of him just like she did. Irrational since his kids shared a strong bond with him and each other, but valid.

Jimin got up, arms still wrapped around her, she was growing and he could no longer able to hold her like how he used to. He moved the covers to make place for her and gently laid her down, taking her plastic tiara off her head. Covering her and laying a gentle kiss on her forehead, tears dangerously threatened to spill. The moonlight hit his face, making his eyes’ shine intensify into thousand galaxies in his beautiful, soft chocolate eyes as he got up to turn off her mermaid lamp.

“Sleep tight my little universe,” he chokingly whispered as tears freely fell from his eyes.

An abrupt sound made way to his ears and he turned around, finding his sixteen-year-old son holding Sunghoon. Jimin vigorously wiped his tears and gave Haneul a weak and quivering smile. The boy moved to put down the toddler he was holding in his crib and turned on the mobile, then mouthed to his father if he was okay, used to him being bubbly and strong for them, though it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d seen him cry. He took the role of confidant, listening to his father whenever he let himself be anything less than closed. He always looked so small, like a little boy. It always scared him. This wasn’t his big and amazing role model of a dad, was it? The one he bragged about to all his friends and anyone who would listen? Would he become like that, too? Out of the three kids, he was the one who remembered his mother the clearest, having been fourteen. He despised her, to put it nicely. He was the one that got to see to the extent that that woman caused their father to feel anguish, he got to know what not being loved by his mother was like.

Nodding, he ushered his oldest son out the room, more unrestrained tears rolled down his tear-stained cheeks. No matter how vigorously he wiped at them, they’d come back anyway, so maybe he should give up on wiping his tears just as he’d given up on trying to make his relationship work. It didn’t help that Haneul was the spitting image of his mother, either. Haneul wanted to press on, to question him and help him, but he decided to leave it. Glancing at both of his younger siblings sleeping, he decided maybe some things were better left unsaid. He slowly made his way to the door and once he reached it, pat his dad in the back and continued to his room. As Jimin tried to control his upcoming violent sobs, he shut the door behind him.

He couldn’t do this alone anymore. It was too much. He needed someone there.

The cool autumn wind blew against Jimin’s cheek as he shook his hair to clear his fringe from his eyes. He brought his dainty hands into his jacket pockets as he puffed out air. While his breath may not have been visible, it sure as hell felt like it could be.

It was cold as fuck, to put it simply. Having a car would be absolutely beautiful right now, but circumstances really don’t line up with his wishes on the regular. He always kept forgetting to look into which car he would like best and to go purchase it, but the subways facilitated his route home and to work somewhat. His life would improve tenfold once he remembers to buy a car. He was very forgetful since there’s only so much he can keep up with, his brain take up with his three kids and problems. He could do that in the three days he had left, he guesses. Maybe tomorrow if he sets a reminder, even, would he be able to get a car. Before he left, he had saved up money for a living space able to hold all 4 of them and a mode of transportation. He could get rid of his subway card and buy a car or something, anything but dealing with the surplus of rats and drunkards at the time he used it. His credit wasn’t bad either, which could probably lower his purchase a little. His oldest used the same transportation he did, but he just wanted to drive his kids to school in the mornings and drop them off. Even more so, Eunbyul was starting school in just a few days, so he couldn’t afford to just walk her to school as it was half an hour away from their apartment building or even use public transport. It just didn’t feel right to him. All those cute hairstyles he planned on doing on her would be ruined by the time they got there.

Jimin kept pacing along the sidewalk towards the apartment complex where his kids are expected to be sleeping. Expected. It was 1:05 A.M., after all. A father can only hope his children listened well to him. He could probably assume Haneul was studying or something and the other two were knocked out, children being unable to be awake for very long.

He sighed as he scratched his itching nose and gazed around the well-near-empty streets, save the occasional drunk or workers of the same hours as himself.

Work was everything but slow, as always. Obviously, as an exotic dancer, he should’ve expected that. He really thought he’d made it clear to the manager that he had to be home early to put his kids to bed and give Eunbyul her first out of five pep talks before she starts kindergarten for the first time ever in a week, but maybe he didn’t remember. He’ll put his money on that, Seokjin was always preoccupied with everything in the club and the additional two other locations. Being a considerate manager and good owner is hard work, after all. His forgetfulness caused Jimin to be overbooked and end his shift two hours later than he’d requested. At least he was getting paid very well for that, anyway, so he had next to no complaints.

Checking his phone, he saw 5 collective texts from his friends, Yoongi and Taehyung. These were two childhood best friends of his, every summer when he would visit his grandma in Seoul he would hang out with them. They were both neighbors from Daegu and would go to Seoul for the summer for the same reason Jimin did which caused his grandmother to meet them. A chance encounter leading to a life-long friendship. Taehyung, however, moved away to become an art major at NYU and Yoongi had followed behind, falling victim to Taehyung’s prettily warpped descriptions of the city. He was a kindergarten teacher and assumed the same role in the states and Taehyung became a critically acclaimed, wildly successful painter. Taehyung actually had children of his own in his time in New York and his twins were the same age as Eunbyul. He, however, was married to their mother, and happily too. For that, he always felt jealousy, despite not wanting to.

Tapping the notification to see all the texts displayed, he saw Yoongi whining about the fact that the first day of school is way too close for comfort and Taehyung’s smiley face reply to Jimin’s own “i’m going home now, if i don’t text you that i’m home within 20 minutes, use find my friends to go after me”. Nothing out of the ordinary. He lived in a crime-filled part of town. He was saving up to be able to buy either a nice enough house close to the school or an apartment of the same caliber in cash. Mortgages seemed messy to him, in all and he was frankly scared to do it.

Now, Yoongi’s whining is normal, but now it has increased tenfold as the news of him getting an assistant teacher was broken to him. Yoongi felt as though the school was insulting his ability to teach by putting another adult in the classroom (they’d assured that he needed an extra hand in the classroom as there were more kids than before in his class–he called bullshit though), but nonetheless, all Jimin could hope for is that he doesn’t “accidentally” show up to class with vodka in a water bottle again. Not after what happened last time.

Locking his phone and walking faster, his longing for the warmth of what he liked to call his “luxury” apartment shining through and suddenly beginning to be extremely prominent which resulted in a whine of I-have-to-walk-like-five-more-steps-to-get-inside-so-life-isn’t-fair escapes Jimin. He stared ahead, gaze landing on the once-silver gate. It was once beautiful, but since the new owners bought it, they paid no attention to outside view, or so he was told by the old lady next door, Janet. They knew everyone went there for the cheap prices anyway, she’d sigh. He really had to move into a house or something. He already had the money for a nice enough house or better apartment where all 4 of them could live happily though his job. Maybe he could look for a house only a few minutes away from the school. Mental note: look for house around school.

Quickly opening and speed walking to the elevator, he checked his phone once again. More drunk texts from the absolute best friend that he loves so very much in this very moment, Yoongi. He really did take his devastation seriously, as he shared a selfie with him and vodka with a text after saying “my news befrenddf!!!!!!!!”. Jimin let out a huff of amusement and disbelief. The man was almost in his late 30s and he still acted like he could be the age of his students.

The unlocking to the apartment was bittersweet. Suppressed memories always seemed to float into his conscious one by one when coming through the door, when silence and darkness met him. That house of cards-like mirage he’d fabricated all on his own tormented him because how could he be so stupid and naïve to believe two children would fix their doomed relationship. He was never happy, not after she barely showed up at home after giving birth. Not after she’d come home often with the stench of alcohol, cigarettes, and sex on her. She was the one who could never be a parent. The one that selfishly left when offered money and riches. The one who didn’t even think twice about accepting the offer. The one that left him for a richer man despite their various kids. The one he’d had to lie to his daughter about when asked of. The one that never thinks of her own kids and has started a new life with brand new kids and husband. The one that’s too late to fix things. The one he and his teenage son loathe with every fiber of their being.

He really had to move away to a nicer place. Sighing, he dragged his boot cladded feet along the living room towards his room to begin his night routine. His two jobs relied on his face and his body, so taking care of both was extremely important, mental stability somewhat important too. He kicked off his shoes and snaked out of his clothes, took his pj’s, and padded towards the bathroom. The most relaxing parts of the day for him were most simply when he saw his kids in the morning and taking a shower after being in a packed and hot night club, full of dried sweat which gave him a not-so-pleasant stench. Eunbyul just knew her daddy was a dancer; she didn’t need to know the explicit details. At least not until the age of thirteen, or maybe older (he hoped), when her very own older brother found out.

He scrubbed every inch of his body until his skin turned red because god, he could not stand the stench just rolling off him in waves. Now, he was fine. He was happy, scent of the bubblegum body wash Eunbyul insisted on buying filling his senses. He was finally home, and his daughter was turning a new chapter in her life. She was going to learn how to read and he would teach her the same things he’d taught her brother. How he loved that, the feeling of satisfaction reached after your child now knows something they didn’t before. He loves the way her eyes light up when she learns something. He loves it all, and he hopes it’ll last forever.

He remembered he should probably invest in a car and a house closer to the school, a 30-minute walk was no joke. He finally dragged his fatigued fingers to set the reminder.

#btsghostie #jimin x reader #pjm #jimin #park jimin #jimin fanfic #jimin fluff #jimin angst #dad jimin #single father jimin

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americasmarauders · 4 years

Text

Wasteland, baby!-- Ben Hargreeves (part 1).

author’s note: hello hello. after weeks of writing here it is: my masterpiece. to be complete honest, this might actually be one of the best pieces of writings I have ever produced. ever.

words: 2759

masterlist

part 2

part 3

part 4

summary: that girl on the bus stop seemed so lonely and Ben couldn’t help himself really. So, he snuck out and became her friend.

He was having a hard time sleeping. It usually happened after a mission. Ben was haunted by the monsters he unleashed, and the faces of those he attacked. He hardly could sleep after using his powers. He silently thanked that Father had stopped monitoring their sleep after Five disappeared.

He sat on his bed, his back resting against the wall, his feet dangling. He looked out the window, the sun was barely up and the streets were quiet. Usually, he was always the first one to wake up out of his siblings—the morning light peaked right on his face. He would wait until the dreaded knock on his door, a sign that they were to face the horror they called Father.

Usually, Ben would sit watching the streets, quietly wondering and admiring the normalcy of it. There wasn’t anything to watch, a couple of cars passing, the tiny garden one of the residents of the building in front tended to, a bus stop that half disappeared on the corner of the sidewalk.

However, today, something got hold of his attention. A girl, standing quietly near the bus stop, just enough so Ben could see her clearly. She had a clear umbrella dangling off her backpack. She wore jeans and a white t-shirt with a print he couldn’t quite discern. She looked about his age, but it wasn’t that what intrigued him,

She looked so lonely. She had a lost look in her eyes. She kept glancing up and down the streets, her face morphing into something sadder each time she saw no one was coming.

His heart beat faster and faster. How come? She looked so kind and sweet. How could someone leave her alone?

He shuffled on his bed, his face this close to the glass window, clinging to her image. Ben watched her with curiosity. She was a new figure in his life, his so controlled and planned life.

He didn’t know how long he stayed there looking at her, but he heard the dreadful knock on the door. It must have been long.

“I’m coming,” he answered to it.

When he looked back to where the girl was standing, she was gone.

Ben woke up earlier the next days. Earlier than he usually did. He spent the entire week looking at her. She stayed at the same place for a while before she walked off to the end of the street, he guessed to the school at the end of it. She always looked lonely, she always was looking for something or someone to accompany her.

He changed out of his pajamas quickly. He was tying his tie when he turned to the window, one knee on the bed, seeing if she was outside. He finished his tie and pulled the sweater on top of it, opting against using his blazer.

Ben glanced one last time out the window. The sky rumbled. He sighed, as he looked up to the sky, little droplets of water fell. He put his shoes on and quietly left his room. He avoided all the spots in the corridor where the wood would creak under his feet. He hoped Pogo was nowhere near the entrance.

He descended the stairs quietly, his heart beating rapidly and strongly. Ben had never done something so sneakily and so exciting in his life. Sure, he had once messed with Allison’s teddy bear and a string of other practical harmless pranks, but this felt different and more criminal than those childish plays.

As he stood in front of the door, his hand gripping an umbrella tightly. His other hand hovered over the handle hesitating. He closed his eyes and, in a rush, he opened the door and stepped outside. He opened his eyes as he felt drops of water hit his shoulders and hair. He smiled and closed the door.

With the umbrella opened, he crossed the streets in long strides, laughing at the thrill of defying orders. He could see her, standing under her clear umbrella looking down at her phone—a luxury he wished he could have. Just as always, she looked a tiny bit sad.

He slowed down his pace, still smiling. He quietly approached her. She sensed him coming her way and looked up right at him. Ben wasn’t counting on how beautiful she looked up close, he had seen her only from afar. He faltered for a split second shocked, but quickly recomposed. He stood next to her, his smile still very much present.

“Hi,” she said quietly.

“Hey,” he breathed out. “I’m sorry,” he laughed nervously, “it must be weird. I mean, you’ve never seen me. I—” he cleared his throat, “I noticed you looked quite lonely and I thought I’d stay with you.”

She smiled. “Okay,” she said quietly. “It’s not weird. I saw you looking last week.”

“Oh,” Ben hadn’t seen her looking. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” she responded. “Someone might have thought it was creepy, but,” she laughed and shook her head, “I somehow knew you didn’t mean any harm.”

“That’s—” he swallowed nervously, “good.”

“I’m Y/N,” she said and his heart stopped for a second at how beautiful and fitting it was.

He smiled at her. “I’m Ben.”

Lightning stroke and she yelped slightly. Both giggled at her scare. Both knew it was the start of something magical.

It became a routine. A routine he maintained for the better part of 2 months.

Ben would wake up earlier—they started to meet earlier and earlier, craving for more time together as they became closer—jump out of bed, and fly out the door (he started climbing out the window when he had a near encounter with Pogo one morning). He would stay with her until she had to leave for school. With that he would climb to his room and put on his blazer. Sure, he would come to breakfast a few minutes later, but it was all worth it. She was worth every second of the few minutes they spent together.

He discovered a lot of things about her. She lived a couple of blocks away and she went to school just down the street. She was a year younger than him and she wanted to be a scientist after school. She read a lot, mostly contemporary books, but there were some classics that she absolutely loved like Peter Pan and To Kill a Mockingbird.

Some would argue she was absolutely, positively ordinary. To Ben, that was what made her extraordinary. He was surrounded by things he couldn’t really explain, that most couldn’t even begin to wrap their heads around it. His whole existence was one of mystery and, quite frankly, horror.

Y/N was the opposite. She was normal. No powers, no buying kids to experiment on them. She had both parents, normal balanced adults who loved her very much. She was an only child, no crazy siblings for her. She went to school and learned normal things, she didn’t learn a thousand different languages and advanced calculus or whatever. She said she didn’t have many friends, but he was her friend. He believed he was her friend because she was his only friend.

It was a sunny day, hot, nearing the end of the school year to her. Ben was sweating in his button up, and she adorned a sundress. Some would say it was behaved, playing it safe, she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. To Ben, it was perfect. She glowed. Her hair was down and she clutched her backpack tightly, the clear umbrella always hanging off of it.

They chatted lightly. As they talked, Ben lost track of time. She was supposed to be heading to school and he was supposed to be on his way down the stairs as the breakfast hour neared. His eyes drifted to the academy, his brother Klaus looking out his window with a smirk framing his face.

“Shit!” Ben said, frantically looking down a watch he kept in his pocket.

“What?” Y/N responded confused. “Is everything okay?”

“We lost track of time,” Ben said looking up the window one more time, Klaus signaling to his wrist as if Ben was running out of time. Y/N’s eyes trailed to where Ben was looking. She raised her eyebrows at the sight of a boy at Ben’s window, absolutely amused at the situation. “We need to go.”

“Yeah,” she breathed out, her eyes peeling off the window and settling on Ben. She smiled. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ben shook his head, already halfway across the street in a rush. “See you!”

Shit, shit, shit, shit, he muttered all the way up to his window in the second floor. As he got up there, Klaus helped him up the ledge, helping bring his brother into the room. He didn’t wipe the smirk off his face, as Ben frantically composed himself in the mirror, straightening his tie and fixing his hair. He picked up the blazer on top of his bed and put it on.

“You’re lucky it was me who caught you,” Klaus said amused.

“Shut up, Klaus,” Ben muttered.

“Wow, Benny boy, you wound me,” he said dramatically. “I guess you won’t mind then if I tell dear old dad that Number Six is sneaking out of the academy to flirt with girls,” he completed with annoying kissing noises.

“Don’t tell Dad,” he gritted angrily. His eyes softened and he quietly begged, “Please, Klaus. She—,” he swallowed, “she has nothing to do with this. Don’t involve her.”

Klaus wasn’t one to show softness: he hid it under a much dramatic persona, alcohol and drugs—not necessarily in that order. Ben was lucky his brother was sober that morning. “I won’t,” Klaus said. “But you have to more careful.”

With that, Klaus was out the door. Ben exhaled deeply and muttered a small yeah before he was off to slay that morning’s demon.

Ben laid awake that night.

He had spent the entire day on edge, hoping Klaus wouldn’t spill his biggest secret to everyone, especially their Father. Thankfully, he wasn’t that much of an asshole, and even when Klaus was higher than high that afternoon, he managed to keep his mouth shut—which was greatly appreciated by Ben.

He started to reflect on every single conversation he and Y/N shared, his heart racing at the memories. It started with a simple glint in her eyes, and it escalated to Ben feeling like he couldn’t breathe right if he didn’t see her regularly.

He hadn’t felt that way before, but he wasn’t exactly daft to the symptoms he was feeling. He had read enough novels to conclude he was either having panic attacks—which weren’t all too weird for him or his siblings to have—or he was in love. He quickly dismissed the first option. It wasn’t prompted, not like it usually is, and he couldn’t even imagine Y/N being a source of panic for him. Not when she felt like the only good thing in his life.

The logical conclusion was love. But a part of Ben was reluctant to admit that. It wasn’t planned: he hadn’t planned on loving her, he just wanted a friend. It was too soon for it. They’d had only two months of friendship, something he held so close to his heart he didn’t tell anyone he had a friend outside the Academy. It was an accident—a slip, really—that Klaus had found out.

That also prompted the elephant in the room: she didn’t really know who Ben was. She knew who he was, of course, he was Ben. He hadn’t lied and maintained his personality a secret in a weird catfishing way, no. She just didn’t know who he was. She didn’t know his surname, she didn’t know why he only wore white button ups, shorts and ties, she didn’t know why he had an umbrella tattoo at only 16 years old, she didn’t know he housed monsters inside of him.

The worst part is: Ben chose to omit that part of him. He didn’t want her to befriend him for his powers or for who his siblings were, he wanted her to like him for him, just plain old Ben. He wanted to prove to himself he was more than a number—sadly, quite literally—that his whole world was a mere detail in the grand scheme of things, that he mattered outside of being a tool for world salvation.

And she had helped him prove that. He knew that, now. He knew by the way her face would light up when she saw him cross the street, coming at her encounter. He saw by the way she would laugh at his sarcastic remarks on some random anecdote she was telling him about school. He saw at the way she would smile and listen attentively to what he was saying, even if it was the silliest thing to ever leave his lips. He knew he mattered to her. More than he could imagine, maybe. And, somehow, that was the world to him.

Smiling, he shifted in his bed, laying on his side. He looked at his night stand, the book she lent him staring back at him. She said that when she read, it had reminded her of him. He could hear her saying that—the memory too fresh from the previous day—it sent butterflies to his stomach and his thought became all fuzzy.

He hadn’t opened it yet. She said he was to open it. He felt bad for a second, he hadn’t had the time to do what she asked him to, but that thought quickly subsided with the memory of the exhaustion he felt after the training he had endured. If she knew, she would understand, right?

Ben picked the book up sitting upright in his bed. The clock flashed a 9:37 pm in a sickly green. If he could read at least the first chapter of it, he would finish it in minutes, and it wouldn’t leave him too exhausted for tomorrow’s training and he could comment his thoughts with her.

His fingers trailed lightly over the creases of the title. My Sweet Orange Tree, it read. He opened it and an envelope fell. He put the book aside and opened the envelope. He first took out a paper, folded in itself a couple of times. He then noticed there was another item inside of the envelope but opted to read the letter first. Ben turned the lamp beside his bed on and read.

Dear Ben,

I know you often choose to read intellectual books, your brain too smart to waste time on fickle fantasies. But I ask for you to waste time on this one. You’ll find that there’s more than meets the eye. Just like you, I suppose.

There’s a moral to this story you’re about to read, one I hope we get to discuss more than the few spare minutes we have before I go to school and you have to do whatever mysterious things you refuse to tell me. I hope you find it fitting, just like I found it fitting for you and me.

I know it seems early and even cowardly to say this through letter and not to your face, but Ben, my god, you mean so much to me, more than my brain can process. My heart surely can. I hope you know this.

It sounds silly and old fashioned, but I put a photo of me in the envelope. So, you’d remember me if something were to happen, or just remember me in general. I didn’t mean to sound so pessimistic. Behind the photo there’s my telephone number: home and cellphone. If you ever manage to, perhaps we can call each other?

After that sequence of random topics, I bid you farewell, my Ben. I hope to see you tomorrow.

Love,

Y/N.

He threw the letter aside, reaching for the envelope he had abandoned a few moments ago. He took the small picture out of it. Y/N was smiling at the camera, wearing that amazing sundress he loved, looking carefree. He smiled at the picture, his heart threatening to jump out of his chest. He flipped the picture, the numbers in black ink and her penmanship.

He put the letter and the picture on his night stand, making a mental note to get a frame for her photo. Ben sighed happily and opened the book. Chapter one.

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fandom-puff · 4 years

Text

Arthur Shelby Fluff Alphabet

as requested by @beautifulfigment !

Arthur is my absolute fave, and I’ve had a few requests to do the smut alphabet for him too :)))

Warnings: some mention of arthur’s issues (PTSD, alcholism) mentions of suicide attempt

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Arthur adores your laugh, the way your whole face lights up and your eyes twinkle. He especially loves it when you’re trying to hold back laughter, rocking silently with the giggles at the most inappropriate moments (normally when Tommy’s doing one of his lectures)

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

He wants children. Aside from Finn, he’s the last of his siblings to have kids, even though he’s the oldest. there’s always the worry in the back of his mind, however, that he would be a terrible father, just like his own. You tell him, firmly, that that is utter bullshit, and he’d make a brilliant dad.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

He is a GANGLY man, all long limbs. So long as he’s close to you, he doesn't really mind how you cuddle. His favourite way to cuddle is with his face buried in your chest and his arms wrapped around your waist.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

He very rarely takes you to posh nightclubs or restaurants. They’re loud and busy, and he hates feeling like everyone is staring. Instead, he’ll take you on drives through the country, spread out a picnic blanket in a field and have a proper little picnic (thank God for Aunt Pol).

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

You are his little angel.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

He knew he was head over heels in love with you when you kicked some bloke in the balls in the Garrison. He was behind the bar, pouring drinks, noticing the man bothering you. Until then, he had all of these feelings for you that he couldn’t put into words. But when the man tried to grab your waist, his anger flared and he was about to shout and jump over the counter when your foot made contact. You walked away as the man fell to the floor, brushing your hair out of your face, and ordered yourself a drink. Arthur simply stood staring, mouth slightly agape. Tommy grinned. “Oi, Arthur. Get the lady her drink and invite her to the pictures,”

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

He is so gentle. He knows how much damage he can cause with his bare hands, so he makes every touch as light at possible. You have to tell him off eventually, saying that you’re not made of porcelain and would very much like him to hold your waist in public, as well as other public displays of affection. He also speaks much quieter with you as opposed to his normally booming voice- it often seems as though you two are in your own personal bubble as you talk

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Arthur ALWAYS grabs your hand when you walk by him, unashamed to hold it in front of everyone. You’re his girl and he loves you, so of course, he’s gonna hold your bloody hand (fuck off John, go see to your own woman). When he starts getting angry, you tend to slip your small hand into his, and it mellows him out fairly quickly. You both have a system of squeezing one another’s hands for encouragement, reassurance or a code for ‘shall we go home?’

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

That you didn’t belong in Small Heath. It was too industrial, too dangerous, too dirty for you. You seemed to innocent for the drunks and the whorehouses and the dodgy bookies like him.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Yes. If he’s sober, he’s more likely to close up and become distant as his brain goes into overdrive; what if you leave him? what if he’s simply not good enough for him?

When he’s drunk, he’s more likely to speak up, though he doesn’t throw fists straight away, unless you’re clearly uncomfortable. More often than not, the situation defuses to him holding you proudly to his side saying (rather loudly) “That’s my girl! My YN!”

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

You initiated the first kiss. he was walking you home after your second date as an official couple, and it was clear he was apprehensive about something. He eventually admitted his true feelings, how he had loved you for a long time, yet he was nervous and didn’t want to wreck it.

You cupped his cheeks in both your hands, forcing him to look at you. “You can’t wreck it, Arthur,” you had murmured. “Because I feel the same way about you,” the first kiss had been sweet, no tongue, and you stroked his cheek gently.

In general, his kisses are tender, even the chastest ones filled with passion and longing. Often, he’ll be in a rush and press hurried kisses to your cheek or forehead while you’re in the middle of getting ready.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

Arthur. He’s hungover and you get him water and aspirin, before settling next to him. He grabs your waist and snuggles close, kissing you (but missing your mouth slightly) and mumbling “I bloody love you,”

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

When he asked you to marry him. It was by no means a perfect proposal, and it took him ages to pluck up the courage but seeing realisation and happiness spreading across your face as he got on one knee was worth every second of apprehension

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Arthur loves to spoil you... the only problem is he’s useless at picking stuff out, always worrying whether or not you’d like it. He often ends up getting Ada and Polly to help him pick something out, though he always makes sure he goes with them.

“What about that frock? She likes them pretty patterns,”

“Arthur, that’s a maternity gown,”

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

sky blue. It was the colour of the dress you wore on one of your first proper dates. He was speechless when he saw you, unable to believe how lucky he is

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Love, darling, my angel

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

He loves when you send him letters when he’s off for work- you never send telegrams, or use the typewriter for the notes. He keeps them in his breast pocket, and when he’s stressed, he holds the paper close to his heart, inhaling the wafts of your perfume to calm down

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Stay in bed with you, slipping in and out of sleep, All spft caresses and gentle kisses, huddled up under the blankets

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Whiskey and snow used to be his go to. But with you, he has other ways.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Anything and everything with you. He’ll ask questions, genuinely curious about all sorts, cooking, your family etc... one evening you ended up showing him how to crimp the pastry at the edge of your steak pie because he asked how you got it so pretty.

He talks about work, often glossing over the worst of it. Even with the glossing over, he feels much better, like he has someone who understands how the war and the business effect him, especially as his closest brother never seems to listen

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Laying in your arms, holding your hand... generally just being close to you makes him feel calm

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

You. You’re his girl, and he wants everyone to know it. If you tell someone to piss off, he’ll grin like mad, leaning to his brothers and saying ‘that’s my girl’.

He’s also proud of how far he’s come with you, how much more mellow he is as well

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

He proposes a while after you start dating, once he is certain you’re the one. He proposes on your birthday (read this!!) and you have a quiet wedding, just close friends and family, in a quaint little church. Tommy let’s you use Arrow House for the reception, and Arthur stays sober the whole night

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

‘In the Bleak Midwinter’ is every Shelby’s song.

But his song with you is Moonlight Serenade by glen miller (I know the dates don’t quite match up). He remembers being the last two in the garrison, slow dancing with you, your head on his chest as he swayed with you

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Once he is sure you’re the one, he knows he wants to marry you, and he wants to do it properly. Nothing arranged like John and esme, not because you’re pregnant like Tommy and Grace and Lizzie. He wants it to be because you love eachother deeply, wholly, truly.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

Arthur wants a great big dozy dog who’ll just trot behind you and nearly knock him over when he comes through the door. He’d give it a human name too, like Dave. This makes you giggle like mad.

Tag list: @the-makingsofgreatness @peakyswritings @haphazardhufflepuff @diksy1112 @zodiyack @theunderlier @soleil-dor @hiddensapphic @fckingpeakyblinders @snugleo @alittlebirds @satanxklaus @glamsaturn @thegirlwithoutaname87 @queenofmankind

#arthur shelby fluff #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby x you #peaky blinders #fluff #arthur shelby headcanon #request

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lilliagradiewrites · 4 years

Text

not like that // jj maybank (one shot)

A/N: New one shot friends!! I have been working on this for over a week and I’m so happy with how it’s turned out. It’s the longest piece I’ve ever written. I’m really proud of this, so I hope you guys like that. Feedback is always welcome and appreciated!! Also, every reblog helps. Love you guys!!

Summary: JJ Maybank has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. And, unfortunately for you, you’ve been in love with him for as long as you remember. You’ve done great at hiding your feelings, but what happens when on a drunken night, everything is revealed?

Word Count: 9.5k

Warnings: nothing worse than what's in the show!!

Contents: ANGST, lots of angst, and a bit of fluff at times :)

Let’s do it!!

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Another night, another heartbreak.

You knew it would happen; it always does. It’s practically expected at this point.

But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

It was a friday night, and all the pogues were at the boneyard. This wasn’t unusual; it was actually quite common. You had volunteered to be the designated driver. It was meant to be JJ’s turn, but you knew he’d had issues with his dad earlier in the day and needed to get fucked up. So, you told the group that you ‘didn’t feel like drinking’ and told JJ to have his fun.

The rest of the group suspected nothing, but JJ knew your purpose for volunteering. When the group had begun loading into the van, he’d grabbed your arm and pulled you aside.

“You don’t have to do that, you know. I’m fine. I won’t drink.”

“It’s okay, J. You’ve had a rough day. You need some fun tonight. I’m happy to stay sober if it means you’ll have fun and take your mind off things.”

JJ smiled slightly. “Thank you. But I don’t wanna ruin your fun. You’ve been looking forward to this all week, Y/N.”

You touched his arm lightly as a way to reassure him. “I promise you it’s okay, JJ. I’m fine with it. You need this more than I do. If it was an issue for me, I wouldn’t have volunteered.”

JJ hesitated for another moment, but eventually agreed. He thanked you again and walked with you to get in the van.

Now, you sat alone on the crowded beach, the one beer you’d been nursing all night in your hands. You’d been with your friends all night, but once they’d gotten a decent amount of alcohol in their systems, they abandoned you. Kie dragged Pope off to dance; John B left muttering something about Sarah Cameron. JJ, who felt bad for you staying sober even in his drunk state, has stayed with you a little longer. When the two of you were alone, he’d been extremely touchy. One hand on your thigh as he talked to you, shoving you playfully when you cracked a joke at him. The contact was little, but it made your stomach flutter.

JJ was your best friend, no doubt. You’d known each other since you moved to the cut in sixth grade. He had invited you to sit with him and John B at lunch, and the three of you became fast friends. You loved John B and cared about him very much, but you had a special connection with JJ. You felt a sense of comfort around him that you felt with no one else. He understood your humour, appreciated your music taste, and was the greatest listener. You went to him with all of your problems, and JJ did the same. The two of you had such a close bond, you don’t what you’d do without him.

That is exactly why you’d pushed away your feelings when they first began creeping up on you. You pushed down the butterflies, willed your cheeks to stop turning red when he looked at you. Did everything you could to stop the infatuation from growing larger. All your efforts were for nothing, though, when you realized your love from the blonde was only growing stronger the more you pushed it away. After that, you finally came to terms with your crush, but decided to keep it to yourself. If you told him, it could make things awkward, and you’d lose him altogether. You’d rather suffer in silence than lose the person you cared about most on this planet.

This crush is what caused your cheeks to ignite in redness every time you felt JJ’s hand brush against your skin. You became more and more flustered as he subtly flirted with you in every way, praying that you it was too dark for him to notice the deep red shade your face had become. He said something extremely flirty, and began leaning into you.

Your brain exploded with a million thoughts and emotions.

He’s gonna kiss me!

Holy shit what do I do?

Does he actually like me back?

What if it’s just because he’s drunk?

What happens if he doesn’t remember this in the morning?

Despite the storm that was raging in your head, you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in towards him. Your lips were inches apart, and your dreams were moments from coming true.

Until JJ, in his drunken state, spilled his drink all down the side of his leg. He pulled back, cursing. The boy informed you he was going to refill his drink and find something to wipe his leg off with, and he was gone.

You sat there and watched him walk away, taking your hopes of something ever happening between the two of you with him.

You’d waited for him to come back for about half an hour before going to look for him. He’d told you he’d come back once he was done, and JJ always kept his promises to you. So, when he didn’t return quickly, you were worried.

As soon as you saw him, however, you were regretting getting up off your seat. About twenty feet from the keg was JJ, talking to some pretty redhead about something you couldn’t hear. The girl, who was clearly just as wasted as your friend, was hanging on his arm, listening intently to every word he said. Her face showed interest in the conversation, but her blue eyes were filled with lust. You could tell that all she wanted was to get JJ alone.

And, judging by the way he was moving her hair from face, JJ had the same thoughts as the girl.

Not being able to watch anymore, you’d turned and walked quickly away. You found a tree, a decent way away from the party, and sat on the sand, leaning your back against the wood. It wasn’t until you were in this position that you let the tears fall from your eyes.

How could you have been so stupid? How could JJ ever want you like that? You were his best friend, practically his sister. He was only flirting because he was drunk.

Truly not in the mood to drink anymore, you throw your red solo cup across the sand. You know that Kie would kill you if she found out you’d left plastic on the beach, but you couldn’t care less. As the cup landed on it’s side, the beer spilled out onto the sand. You thought the cup looked almost as empty as you felt. You reached for your phone, thinking you could scroll through tiktok as a way to keep your mind off things and pass time, but stopped yourself. Your wallpaper was a photo of you and JJ, and you couldn’t bear to look at his face right now.

So, you opted to just observe the party instead. You could still see your friends, but they were all in different positions now. Kiara and Pope had met a touron couple and were having a conversation with them. John B and Sarah now sat in the exact seats you and JJ had previously occupied. JJ and the redhead were dancing. Her hands were on his shoulders; his on her waist. They moved to the beat of the music, getting slowly closer and closer to each other. When the song ended, JJ pulled the girl in and leaned down so his mouth was at her ear. The boy whispered something, and you watched as the girl bit her lip and nodded.

You didn’t hear what he said, but you didn’t need to. The girl grabbed JJ by his arm and led him away until they were out of sight. A few moments later, you hear a ding from your back pocket.

You reluctantly pull your phone out, and sigh when you read the message notification from JJ.

BSF!: dont worry about me, going home with a friend. Be at the chateau in the morning. See u.

A teardrop fell on your phone screen as you read the message. You hadn’t even realized that you’d been crying. Deciding that you couldn’t bear to stay any longer, you stood, took a deep breath, and walked to where Kie and Pope stood.

You talked as soon as you got to them, not caring if you interrupted their conversation.

“Hey, guys, can we go? I don’t want to cut anyone’s night short but I’m not feeling very well.”

Kie was very understanding. The girl was so caring, even when wasted. “Yeah, of course. Come on, Pope.” The two said goodbye to their newfound friends, then followed you away. When you told John B you were leaving, Sarah offered to drive him home later so he wouldn’t have to leave. He asked if that was okay with you, and of course you agreed. Just because your night was shitty doesn’t mean everyone else’s has to be.

You turned to Pope and Kie, realizing it wasn’t fair to ask them to leave if they were having fun. “I can come back later and pick you guys up if you want to stay. I don’t mind.”

Kie was quick to protest, until their two new friends came up and offered to take them home later. The girl hadn’t been drinking. Kie asked if you were okay to be alone, still worried.

Once you’d assured her that you were, she gave you a hug, telling you to drive safe and text her when you got back to the chateau. You agreed, said goodbye to Pope and the nice couple, and were on your way.

You drove home in complete silence. Normally, you’d be blasting music, but you knew you couldn’t bring yourself to sing along. When you arrived back at the chateau, you shot a quick text to kie before going to the guest bedroom and collapsing on the bed. The tears came almost immediately.

The rest of your night consisted of your favorite sad playlist and a lot of crying. You usually shared the guest bed with JJ, as he was your best friend, and his pillow still smelled like him. You lay there, facing his side of the bed, breathing his scent in deeply and pretending he was there with you.

Eventually, sleep found you and carried you away to a rest filled with dreams about the boy you loved.

When you woke up the next morning, the sun was shining brightly through the curtainless window in the small guest bedroom where you slept. Instinctively, you turned to your right, where a certain blonde usually lays each morning. When you looked, you found nothing but cold, empty sheets, and it all came flooding back to you. You groaned, throwing the bedding off of yourself and standing. If you stayed in the bed any longer thinking about last night, you knew you’d cry again. You hated crying in the morning; it made your face all red and you’d have a headache for the rest of the day.

With a sigh, you lifted your phone from the small bedside table where you’d left it the night before. The time on the screen read 8:37 AM. Knowing that none of your friends would be up at this hour, you walked out of the room and towards the bathroom. All you needed was a shower, you decided, and then you’d feel better.

When the shower was turned on, you stood in front of the dirty bathroom mirror as you waited for the water to warm up. Your appearance was horrible; last night’s makeup was smeared across your face, streaks of black mascara running down your face from your tears. Your hair was tangled from the night's fitful sleep. Insecurity flooded into you at the sight.

I bet JJ’s redhead girl wakes up all pretty in the morning. He’ll see her when he wakes up and he’ll smile because she’s so beautiful.

You tried your best to push these thoughts from your mind, tearing your eyes from your own reflection and getting into the warm water.

In the shower, you tried your best to not think about your best friend, but when you went to grab your shampoo, you spotted the body wash JJ uses. The one that he always smells like when the two of you settle into bed at night. Tears began blurring your vision at the sight, but you blinked them back and finished your shower as quickly as possible.

A few hours later, everyone had woken up. Kie was first, then Pope, and finally John B. You gave everyone advil for their hangovers and made breakfast. They talked about the night as they ate, and you listened to their stories, trying your best not to think about how horrible you’d felt when they were all having fun. After breakfast, they all showered and dressed. It was nearly noon at this point, and there was still no sign of JJ.

You and the pogues sat on the back porch enjoying the beautiful early summer weather. A conversation was going, but you couldn’t keep your mind on it. It kept wandering to the blonde boy you loved so much, and how worried you were for him. He was usually back from his hookups by this hour.

As if your thoughts had summoned it, you heard tires on the gravel driveway out front, and the slam of a door. JJ walked into the chateau, spotted his friends on the back porch, and walked out to meet them, sitting beside you on the couch.

“Hey, J. How was your night?” John B said with a chuckle.

JJ, though looking tired, had a wide smile on his face. “Great, man. Truly awesome.”

“You’re back later than normal. I was worried about you.” You say quietly. How happy he looked made you uneasy, and there was something about him that was different. He was never this smiley after his usual hookups; he mostly just looked exhausted.

But now, sitting beside you on the beat up outdoor couch, the boy was grinning from ear to ear.

His smile faltered when he heard the concern in your voice. “Oh, sorry.” He says. “I, uh… took her to breakfast.”

Shock radiated from the other pogues.

“You took her to breakfast? You never do that. You usually just leave.” Pope says in disbelief.

JJ chuckled slightly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Yeah, I know. This girl is, uh… I don't know… different. She’s really cool, and sweet, and funny. Not to mention she’s bad as fuck. I like her a lot. I kinda wanna get to know her better.”

Kie beamed. Pope and John B raised their eyebrows. Your stomach dropped to your feet.

“Jj, that’s so great! I’m glad you met her” Kie says with a smile. You force one and nod along, not wanting anybody to know how much his words hurt you. You blinked back the tears that began stinging your eyes, hoping no one noticed how they glossed over.

“Yeah.” JJ beamed. “I am, too.”

In an attempt to keep yourself from crying, you quickly change the subject. “That’s great, J. Now, since we’re all here, are we going out on the marsh? It’s so pretty today, I’d hate to waste the nice weather.”

The pogues all nodded in agreement. Thoughts of JJ’s potential new girl were forgotten as excitement for the day ahead of them grew.

“Yeah, sounds good.” John B says. “I’ve been meaning to go fishing anyway. Everyone else down?”

“Of course! I’ve got work at six-thirty though. Can we be back by then?”

“Yeah, of course we can. We can come back around five, so Kie has time to shower and get ready. If we leave at noon, then that’s what, five hours out there? It’ll work out perfectly.” You say, and the rest of the group nods. “Okay, everyone get their stuff and put on your swimsuits. Be ready by twelve.” At this, everyone begins moving to their respective areas to begin getting ready. You and JJ, as usual, head to the guest room, where all your belongings are.

Once you arrive, you both grab your swimsuits and turn around, a routine for you. When you first began sharing the room, you both decided taking turns in the room and the bathroom was too much work, and you both would just not look when the other was changing clothes. You were grateful for this at the current moment, as tears began welling up in your eyes the moment you turned around.

“So, you really like this girl, huh?” You can’t help yourself from asking. You know what the answer will be, and you know it will hurt you. But, you ask anyways, a sliver of hope in your mind telling you he’ll say no.

“Yeah, honestly. She’s so cool. She laughed at my jokes, and she hung onto every word I said when we talked. She’s a great listener. She’s so amazing, Y/N. I know I’ve only known her for a day, but I feel like I’ve known her forever. I’m probably gonna text her later and see if she wants to go out tonight or tomorrow.”

Your heart dropped even further down at his words, but you tried your best to hide it. “Oh, really? That’s great. I thought you weren’t the relationship kind of guy?”

“I’m not. It’s just… she’s different. I saw her half an hour ago and I already miss being around her. There’s something about her that’s just so nice… what does Kie call it?... right, her energy. Her energy is just so good. Like I want to be around her all the time. I know I’ve barely met her, but I’m just so comfortable around her. I don’t know… she just feels right.”

“That’s,uh… that’s wonderful JJ. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, Y/N. I’m happy, too.”

You felt like you were going to puke. You took deep breaths while you buttoned up your denim shorts in order to keep you breakfast down. After throwing a cropped tank over your bikini top, you asked JJ if he was decent before turning around. After hearing his ‘yes’, you looked around to him and mustered up the best smile you had. “Uhh, J?”

“Yes?”

“What’s her name? The girl?”

“It’s Faith.”

“Faith who?”

“Faith Barker. You probably don’t know her, she just moved here.”

“Oh, cool.”

And with that, he left. You followed JJ out to the backyard, where the rest of your friends were already getting onto the boat.

You put on your brave face, and prepared yourself to face a day with JJ.

“Are you kidding, Pope? There’s absolutely no way you’re serious.”

“If you truly think about it, you could-”

“No. Stop talking. You are way too smart to believe this shit.”

You and Pope were currently discussing an outrageous conspiracy theory, a heated conversation that no one else seemed to understand. You, like Pope, were quite smart; conversations like this one often blossomed when you and Pope began talking. The rest of the pogues usually watched in amusement, making quiet bets on who would swing first.

“Wait, Y/N, listen! The government hides shit from us all the time. This could be one of those things, easily. We don’t know ninety-eight percent of what goes on behind the scenes.”

“So what you’re telling me right now is that you wholeheartedly believe that Donald Trump used government laser weapons stationed in space to start the California wildfires?”

“No, Y/N, I’m telling you that I wholeheartedly believe that the government is capable of anything, and that nothing is off limits when it comes to the higher-ups in said government.”

“Well, then, you should’ve just said that. The other one made you sound fucking crazy.”

The pogues laughed at your final proclamation, and JJ used the pause in the argument to speak.

“Now that Y/N and Pope are finished with their geek party, is everyone ready to swim?” The group all agreed, (you and Pope glaring daggers at him for the ‘geek party’ comment) and began stripping down to their swimsuits.

You stood quickly, pulling your tank top off your body, happy to be relieved of the fabric. As the North Carolina sun grew hotter, you grew sweatier, the thin material sticking vexatiously to your skin. Once your top was off and in a pile on the boat’s floor, your shorts quickly joined it. You straightened yourself up, looking around at your friends. John B was finishing up anchoring the small vessel. Kie and Pope were standing at the edge of the boat, and on a count of three, they leaped into the water together. Your best friend was staring at you.

You did a double take when you noticed JJ’s eyes examining your body. His blue irises traveled shamelessly up and down your figure, taking in every inch of your body in the swimsuit you’d chosen. Feeling that you needed some confidence, you’d chosen a suit that made you feel amazing: a sexy triangle style bikini. The white fabric was vibrant against your already tanned skin, the style flattering your shape in all the right places.

JJ, obviously, appreciated the swimsuit just as much as you did. You could practically feel his eyes boring into your skin as he continued to stare at you.

Feeling confident, you snapped your fingers at him, causing his eyes to meet yours.

“Eyes are up here, Maybank.” You teased with a wink, before stepping to the edge of the boat and executing a clean dive into the water.

The cool water enveloped you, a wonderful contrast to your hot skin. Below the surface, you were calm, and you allowed yourself to relax momentarily as you swam.

JJ, on the other hand, was far from relaxed. Watching you undress, your teasing words, that wink, and your dive left him unbelievably flustered. “Holy shit.” He mumbled, unable to form any more words.

“What the fuck was that, man?” John B, who had seen the whole encounter, questioned with a smirk.

JJ ran his hand through his messy hair, and blew out a breath. “I don’t man, but I liked it. A lot.”

John B smirked. “Yeah, me too.”

JJ shot the boy a glare, and he raised his hands in surrender with a light chuckle.

“Sorry, J, didn’t realize she was yours.”

JJ furrowed his brows. “She- she’s not mine, I- uh…”

John B chuckled again, coming forward and clapping a hand down on his friends shoulder. “Are you sure about that man?”

JJ watched, mouth agape, as John B gave him a smile before setting down his beer and jumping into the water.

Not knowing what to say, JJ took a moment to process what his friend had implied. You and him weren’t… a thing. You were just friends, best friends, and nothing more. Sure, he had thought about you a few times, maybe had a dream or two about you…

But even if he did feel that way towards you, of course you wouldn’t feel the same way. You viewed him as a brother, he thought, not a boyfriend. The two of you dating was probably a thought that was so outrageous, it never even crossed your mind.

As JJ watched you in the water, swimming and laughing, his mind continued to wander. Would it be so bad if the two of you dated? You did everything together anyways; you even slept in the same bed. Truthfully, a relationship would only add affection, and things he only allowed himself to think about late at night when he was sure you were asleep. You fought like a married couple, you buy things for each other that make you think of the other person. When you get your period, he comes over to your house with chocolates and ice cream and you watch movies together all day. If you think about it, you were basically together. And, he’d noticed you being extra flirty lately, and there was a strange look in your eye when he began talking about Faith…

No. JJ scolded himself, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. He did not need to be thinking about this. The two of you were just friends, and that’s how it should stay. The rule still stands, right? No pogue on pogue macking. And besides, he had Faith; a wonderful girl he actually really liked.

Even if the two of you dating was a good idea (which it wasn’t), you would never want to. You loved and cared about him, of course… just not like that.

JJ decided to shove the idea of a relationship with you out of his mind the best he could and enjoy his day. He ran to the edge of the boat, jumping with his legs pressed tightly to his chest, shouting “Cannonball!”

As JJ’s body hit the water, a large wave exploded around him, splashing the pogues.

Kiara squealed. “JJ, you dick! You got water in my eye!” You laughed at the whole encounter, swimming over to Kiara.

“Come on, there’s a sandbar over there. We can fix your eye.” You offer with a giggle, pointing to your left where you knew the sandbar was. Kie nodded, her hand still rubbing at her left eye.

“If I go blind, JJ, you’re paying for my optometrist bills.” Kie says, feigning anger as the two of you swim to the sandbar.

“Sorry, Kie, no can do. I’m broke, and I have no idea what that word means.”

You chuckle lightly, helping to pull Kie to a standing position with you. “It’s an eye doctor, dumbass.” You tell JJ, moving Kiara’s hand from her eye. “Try to open it, Kie.” You say softly, leaning in to examine it.

Kiara makes an attempt, but the salt stings her eye as soon as oxygen hits it. “Shit!” She exclaims, hands going back to her eye in instinct. “I’m trying, Y/N, but it burns like a bitch.”

JJ, who was holding onto the side of the HMS Pogue while treading water, observed you and your friend on the sandbar. You were always so caring, he noticed, whether it was a friend getting saltwater in their eye or a deep cut on their leg from a sharp rock. JJ could recall countless times where, after a particularly nasty bout with his father, you’d sat him on your shared bed in the chateau, gently cleaning his wounds and assuring him that everything would be alright. He loved you for this; he’d never met anyone so loving and helpful.

“Okay, Kie, we’re probably just gonna have to rinse the saltwater out. I brought some water bottles, I’ll go get one for you.”

You moved off the sandbar and back into the deep water, headed for the boat. You, being the mom of the group, always remembered the little things. Kie always remembered a case of beer; JJ went nowhere without a freshly rolled blunt on him. You, however, were always the one to pack the important things: snacks, sunscreen, and water bottles.

As you approached the boat, JJ smiled at you.

“Look at you, playing nurse again.” He teases, splashing you lightly.

“I wouldn’t have to if you gave a little more a warning before splashing everybody, dickhead.” You joke back. JJ laughed, but didn’t move from his spot. He was blocking the boat’s stairs, and you couldn’t get on if he didn’t move over.

“Move, JJ, I’ve got to get water for Kie.” You said, motioning to the side. Just to mess with you, JJ stayed in place, a shit-eating grin on his lips.

“Why should I?” He smirks, knowing just how to get a rise out of you.

“Because I’m trying to help Kie because of something you did.”

“Not good enough.” He knows he’s pissing you off now.

“JJ, move.” You demand. He’s the reason Kie’s eye is all messed up in the first place; he has no right to stop you from helping her.

“Only if you decide to ask nicely.” He says with another smug smirk.

You roll your eyes. You were fed up with his games, and your legs were beginning to grow tired from treading water all this time.

“JJ, will you PLEASE get the fuck out of my way so I can get water for Kie?” You say, frustration apparent in your voice.

“That still wasn’t very nice-”

“JJ!” You growl warningly.

“You didn’t let me finish!” He exclaims. “But, you said the magic word, so I guess I can let you through.”

He finally moves to the side, allowing you to climb the stairs and board the boat. You went straight to the cooler in which you knew you’d put the water bottles. You swung the lid open, grabbed one, dropped it shut, then dived into the water. You knew the bottle was sealed tight; it was unopened. No saltwater could get inside, so you simply swam back to Kie holding the bottle in your hand.

You climbed back onto the sand bar and headed straight for Kiara.

“Here, I got a water bottle. It’s been in the cooler for a while so it may be a little cold on your eye.” You informed her, showing her the water bottle in your hand.

“Oh, thank you!” She exclaimed. “What took so long?”

“JJ was fucking around with me.” You exclaimed. “I swear, he can be the most annoying person on earth sometimes.” You moved towards your friend, unscrewing the water bottle and tilting her head back. You began lightly pouring the water over her eye, rinsing it of any salt that remained inside it.

“So you’re in love with him, why?” Kie questioned.

You immediately pause, halting all movement at her words

Did she just say what you think she said?

“Umm, what?” Is your reply as you continue rinsing out her eye.

“Come on, Y/N, you heard what I said. You’re in love with JJ.”

Play dumb, you decide. Maybe if you act like you don’t know what she’s talking about then she’ll think it’s not true.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Kie.” You say with a forced laugh.

“I think I’m good.” She says removing the water bottle from her face. She straightens up and blinks a few times before turning towards you. “Seriously, Y/N. You’re not that slick, and I’m not that dumb.”

Not knowing what to say, you just say nothing.

“We’re your best friends, Y/N, we probably know you better than you know yourself. You have feelings for JJ. I saw how much it hurt you when he was talking about that girl this morning. I saw how flirty the two of you were earlier today before you got in the water. Honestly, Y/N, I don’t know what you think you were hiding.”

You drop her gaze, looking anywhere but into her eyes. Of course you loved him, but what were you meant to say?

“I don’t know, Kie. I think I might have feelings for him. But, even if I did, he’s not into me like that. And if I told him how I feel, it’d just ruin our friendship. He’s my best friend. I can’t lose him.”

“How can you be sure he doesn’t feel the same way?”

“Because of Faith.”

“Because of who?”

You sigh, knowing you’ll have to explain. “That’s the girl he was talking about last night. The one he said he really liked. If you are truly in love with someone, you don’t have feelings for someone else. I haven’t like anyone for months because all I could focus on was JJ. I can’t even fathom going home with someone after a party because I’d think of him every second I’m with the person. Do you get what I’m saying? When you’re really that into someone, no one else exists.”

After a short moment, Kie slowly nods.

“Yeah, I get what you’re saying. But how do you know he wasn’t lying about that Faith girl? Just… I don’t know… saying those things to see how you’d react?”

You shook your head. “No. I know JJ better than I know myself. He wasn’t lying, I could see it in his face. In his eyes. He actually likes that girl. And it, uh… it hurts. A lot.”

Tears began welling up in your eyes, and Kiara pulled you into a hug.

“I’m so glad you’ve finally come clean about this, I can’t process how hard it must’ve been for you to have no one to talk to.”

You nodded, and pulled away.

“Okay.” Kie began, grabbing your hands. “Here’s what’s gonna happen:First, we’re gonna swim and have some fun today. Second, we’re gonna go home so you can shower and feel all good and clean. Third, after I get off work today I’m coming to stay here and we are gonna get you wasted. I’ll even kick JJ out of the guest room so we can stay up late talking about him. Sound good?”

You quickly nodded. “Yes, Kie, thank you. That sounds amazing.”

Kie smiled warmly at your words. “No need to thank me, babes. That’s what friends are for, right? Now come on, let’s go have some fun.”

And have fun you did. You and the pogues had the best time that day; you swam, had chicken fights, had splash battles, a dive competition off the side of the boat. The day was as close to being perfect as it possibly could be. After a while, the five of you settled back into the boat, eating the snacks you packed. Once five rolled around, John B put the pogue in drive and you all headed back to the Chateau, already exhausted from the day's endeavors. As you pulled up to the dock, you leaped off the boat, shouting over your shoulder that you called first shower. Kie bade her goodbyes to the group before heading to her house to get ready for work.

You and JJ, as usual, made a beeline for the guest bedroom. Once the door closed, JJ immediately rounded on you.

“What were you talking about with Kie when you were helping her with her eye?” He questioned.

“Nothing, really. Why?” You quickly reply. Why was he so concerned? Did he hear anything?

“No specific reason, I just thought I heard my name.”

Your heart dropped to your feet.

“Oh, uh… Kie asked what took me so long when I went to get to the water bottle and I told her it was because you were messing with me.” Not a total lie.

“Really? That’s it? I could’ve sworn I heard my name, like, five times.”

As you finished gathering your clothes to change into after your shower, you turned and faced your friend. “Yep, that’s all. Your name was only mentioned once. I’ve gotta go shower now.”

You tried your best to hurry out the door, but JJ stopped you by grabbing your arm.

“Is there, uh… is there something you need to tell me, Y/N?” He asked quietly. As you gazed into his eyes, you saw a swirling storm of emotions. Fear, nervousness, and is that… hope?

“Umm, no, not that I can think of right now.” You push out quickly, knowing that if you thought about your answer any longer you’d start to look suspicious.

JJ hesitated for a moment, studying your eyes as if all his answers could be found there. When he realized his searching would come to no avail, he released your arm and looked away, nodding. “Okay, I just… yeah. Um, enjoy your shower.”

You furrowed your brows, confused by his strange behavior. “Thanks?” You said with a light laugh. You turn to leave, but a lightbulb forms over your head before you walk out of the room. “Oh, J, there is something I wanted to tell you.”

The blonde boy stood up from his spot on the bed, what seemed like hope spreading on his face.

“Yeah?”

“Kie’s spending the night tonight, but we want to share this room so we’re kicking you out.”

JJ’s face fell. “What? Why isn’t she sleeping on the pull out with Pope like usual?”

“Uhh… girl talk.” Your answer makes him both frustrated and slightly nervous.

“Girl talk? About what?”

You face dropped into a sassy expression, attitude forming within you.

“Are you a girl?” You question, cocking your head to the side slightly.

“Obviously not.”

“Well, then, guess you won’t be knowing what girl talk is about. It’s kinda for girls, hence the name.”

JJ rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Fine. Go take your shower before I steal the bathroom from you.”

You run quickly out of the room and into the bathroom, knowing that JJ would keep that promise if given the chance.

It’s now close to eleven forty-five, crickets chirping loudly outside of the Chateau. You, John B, Pope, and JJ are currently settled onto the couch, watching some cheesy sitcom that’s new on netflix. It wasn’t very good, and definitely wasn’t that funny, but it was a form of entertainment as you waited for Kie to arrive. Kie made you promise that you wouldn’t let the boys break out the alcohol before she showed up, and you always kept your promises. The boys protested greatly, but followed your instructions nonetheless.

This is why everyone cheered loudly when Kiara finally walked through the the front door of the house carrying two bags; one with her clothes, the other with two bottles of alcohol.

“It’s party time, bitches!” Kie exclaimed, and everyone ran up to see her. JJ reached for one of the bottles in her tote bag, but she slapped his hand away quickly. “No. Y/N gets first dibs on everything. She’s getting off her ass tonight.”

JJ looked at you, concern swimming in his eyes. You knew he knew you well; you usually only got hammered when there was something you needed to distract yourself from. There was something to distract yourself from, of course, but he couldn’t know what. So, you simply shot him a small smile as an answer to his look. He nodded, taking your smile as an ‘I’m getting shitfaced for the hell of it’ expression.

“Thanks, Kie!” You exclaimed, grabbing both bottles out of her bag. “You can drop your bags in the guest room, I already told JJ he’s been booted for the night.” Kie smiled, while Pope’s face fell.

“What? You’re sleeping in Y/N’s room? I thought you were staying with me!”

Kiara dropped her bags in the room before walking over to Pope, placing a quick kiss on his lips.

“Sorry, bebs. Y/N needs a girl talk tonight. I promise I’ll spend extra time with you tomorrow, okay?”

Pope nodded reluctantly at this, and the party began.

You set the bottles on the counter, where John B opened one for you. “No way, Kie! Vanilla vodka? I can’t believe you got my favorite!”

Kie smiled. “Yes ma’am! You know I got you always.”

You beamed back at the girl, insanely grateful to call her your friend. Kiara always knew how to make you feel better.

“You’re the best, Kie!”

A few hours and many drinks later, you couldn’t walk in a straight line to save your life. Kie fed you drink after drink, and John B blasted music through his speaker. You were having the time of your life, seemingly forgetting about JJ (despite the fact that he was right there with you the entire time.)

Now, it was getting late, and you were getting tired. Near the end of your drinking was when the tears usually come, and John B accidentally let the beginning of ‘Heather’ by Conan Gray play. You turned to Kie, motioning her towards you.

“Can we go to bed?” You slur. “It’s girl talk time.”

Kie nods understandingly, linking her arm in yours and announcing to the rest of the group that the two of you were headed to bed.

As soon as the door closed behind you, tears welled up in your eyes. Kie immediately walked to you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

When her arms were around you, you couldn’t hold your tears back any longer. Sobs began to overtake your body, tears spilling onto Kiara’s shoulder.

“It’s so hard, Kie.” You choke out, practically unable to form real words.

Kiara, being the amazing friend she is, just held you, rubbing your back.

“I know, love, I know.” She soothed softly.

You pulled away from the embrace, trying your best to wipe your tears from your face.

“I-I just feel so stupid.” You choke.

“Please don’t feel that way, Y/N.” Kie says. “It’s not your fault, you can’t help the way you feel.”

You sniffed, choking on sobs once again. “I know it’s not my fault, but it still hurts. I mean, look at me, I’m wasted out of my mind crying over him. He’s probably out there drinking and laughing and having fun with his friends. He doesn't care.”

“It’s not that he doesn’t care, Y/N, he doesn’t know. He’s just… I don’t know, oblivious.”

You sniffled again, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to have a sense of security. “You’re probably right. He wouldn’t talk about Faith to me, or openly talk about all of his hookups around me if he knew. He’s too good of a person.”

“I don’t know if this will make you feel any better, Y/N, but… I think he may feel the same way. Like, the way he treats you, how he speaks to you, how flirty he is with you-”

“He’s flirty with everyone Kie. You, me… damn it, he even flirts with Pope.”

“I know, I know, but it just feels different with you somehow.”

“But it’s not different. You know how I know? Faith. Like I said earlier, on the sandbar. When you truly love someone, no one else even comes into the picture. I think he is oblivious, Kie… he just doesn’t see me the way I see him.”

Little did you know, JJ was far from oblivious. While John B and Pope were continuing their night, JJ followed you and Kie to the bedroom, listening carefully outside the door. His mouth was agape as he heard the words leave your mouth. He felt guilty for listening in; he knew eavesdropping wasn’t okay. But, when he saw the look in your eyes as you and Kie walked out, he couldn’t help himself. He had to make sure you were okay.

He didn’t know what he was expecting to hear, but this sure wasn’t it. You were… in love with him? He couldn’t process it. All this time, he thought you saw him as just a brother. Now, standing alone outside the door of the bedroom you usually shared, he realized he couldn’t be more wrong. Every time he caught you looking at him, every wink, every flirtatious comment; it was all real to you.

And here he was, talking to you about Faith, not knowing how much that would hurt you. He really made it seem like he was in love with the girl… but he knew he wasn’t. How could he be? Standing there, at that moment, he realized… you were right.

When you truly love someone, no one else comes into the picture.

JJ moved quietly away from his spot by the door, still completely dumbfounded by his discovery.

You loved him.

And… he loved you.

He immediately walked back to the living room. John B and Pope were still having the time of their lives. They hadn’t even noticed his absence. The music was still blasting; John B stood on the couch, Pope on the coffee table. They had taken random objects from around the house (John B with a yardstick, Pope with a pool noodle) and were swordfighting. Their laughs echoed throughout the shack, combining with the loud music to create a lighthearted chorus.

They paused immediately, however, when they saw the look on JJ’s face as he returned to the room.

“You good, man?” john B questions, brows furrowed

“It looks like you shit your pants. What happened?” Pope adds on.

JJ doesn’t even know where to begin. He’s hardly processed the information himself. Slowly, he clears his throat, and tries his best to inform his friends about the situation at hand.

“I… uh… you know how Kie and Y/N left to go have ‘girl talk?’ Well, I listened at the door, and-”

“Woah.” Pope interrupts. He was far more sober than the others, having only had two drinks. But since alcohol isn’t normally his thing, his tolerance was extremely low, meaning he was still quite tipsy.

“The fuck is wrong with you, man? You never listen in on girl talk. Ever. That’s, like, a rule or something.”

“Y/N looked upset! I just wanted to make sure she was okay.”

“Well, was she? What’s wrong with her?” John B was beginning to grow bored of the conversation in his drunk state.

“Well, she and Kie were talking and… um… she was upset.” JJ didn’t know the best way to proceed, so he just blurted it out. “Y/N was crying, and she was talking about being in love with someone and them not liking her back, and then Kie said they did like her back, and then I realized they were talking about me.”

The boys were silent for a moment. Suddenly, Pope and John B looked at each other, and bursted into grins.

“Yes! Finally!” Pope exclaims.

“I couldn’t wait until you found out. It was starting to become painful.”

JJ was baffled once again. “You guys knew?”

“She didn’t tell either of us, and neither did Kie. But, uhh… it’s really fucking obvious, dude.”

“If it’s so obvious, then why didn’t I know until now?”

“Because you’re oblivious, J! She could kiss you and you would think she only saw you as a friend.” John B says, clapping his hand down on JJ’s shoulder.

“She’s my best friend. She’s always acted like a best friend to me, right? We slept in the same bed and shit because we’re so close.” JJ’s statement seemed to be trying to convince himself more than his friends.

“You call that little incident on the boat earlier something best friends do? Come on, man, she was practically begging to be with you. The only way it could have been more obvious is if she pounced on you and started making out with you.”

“I-I thought that was a joke.”

“Didn’t seem like one.”

JJ’s brain felt ready to explode.

“So, when are you asking her out?” Pope questions with a smile.

“Ask her out?”

“Just admit it, man, we know you love her too.”

“I don’t know…”

“You’re in denial!” John B exclaims. “JJ, I’ve known you since third grade. I know you better than I know myself. I see how you look at her. It’s goo goo eyes every time she walks in a room. And you just- I don’t know- melt around her. No one can get you to open up like she can. No one can comfort you like she can. She’s your person, J.”

JJ doesn’t know what to say for what seems like the millionth time last night. He feels like he wants to cry, throw up, smile, and die all at the same time. “I- What about Faith?”

“Fuck Faith!” Pope says earnestly. “I’m sure she’s cool and all but come on. This is Y/N we’re talking about. She’s stunning, and smart, and funny. She’s literally you, just a lot hotter and with a bit more common sense.”

“I’m starting to think you have a crush on her.” JJ chuckles.

Pope just rolls his eyes. “You know what I’m trying to say. She’s perfect for you, man. And she already means a lot to you. You’re in love with her, I know you are.”

JJ sighs, covering his face. “Yeah, I think I am. I feel like I’ve known it for a while but I’ve just pushed it away I guess. She’s Y/N, my best fucking friend. I didn’t wanna mess things up between us, you know? What we have is so good…”

“Well, now you know you won’t mess anything up. So go get her, dumbass.” John B says, pushing JJ in the direction of the guest room.

“What, you mean now? Absolutely not. She’s probably asleep. And then she’ll know I was eavesdropping on their conversation. Not happening tonight, that’s for sure.”

“If you wait, you’ll chicken out.” Pope says. “Just do it. Rip off the band aid, my friend.”

“No.” JJ shakes his head, giving his final word. Not tonight. I’ll-I’ll do it tomorrow, okay?”

John B just shakes his head, patting his friend on the pat. “Whatever you say, man. I’m going to bed.”

“Same.” Pope adds. The boys say goodnight, and head off to their sleeping places. John B must have disconnected his phone from the speaker, as the music shuts off abruptly. JJ just sighs.

He moves to the couch, where he’s sleeping for tonight, pondering how much he’d give to be sleeping in his usual spot tonight. He cherishes his nights with you; they’re so comforting and nice. You are always such an amazing listener, and you always know the right things to say. You truly are the perfect girl.

He feels that you’re so close, yet so far away. He longs to walk in that room and kiss you right now. He knows it’s a terrible idea, but he wants to so badly. So long he’s dreamed of how your lips would feel against his… and now he knows you might’ve been having similar dreams the entire time. He still can’t wrap his mind around it.

Being in love with your best friend is some cruel kind of psychological torture, JJ decides. The constant tugging at your heart when she mentions another guys’ name. The playful flirting that you wish was serious. All he ever wants is to hold you tight and never let go, but he never thought you wanted that. Now he knows you did, but it still feels so complicated.

Why is love so goddamn difficult?

JJ’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a creaking door and shuffling footsteps. He peeks up quickly to find you, still decently tipsy, walking out of your bedroom. He watches silently as you walk to the back door and go straight out of it.

The world seems to be spinning as you walk. Your head is beginning to pound from all your crying. After a few more minutes of talking, Kie had fallen asleep, leaving you alone with your thoughts in the dark room.

You had laid there, breathing heavily, going over every moment with JJ in your head. Your time as friends played like a movie in your mind, showing scene after scene of laughs, tears, smiles, and a whole lot of heartbreak. You wondered how you had gotten stuck so damn far into the friendzone.

Deciding you needed some fresh air, you pulled yourself from the bed and stumbled outside, heading down to the end of the dock.

You sat there on the edge, legs dangling off the side, toes brushing the surface of the water. You were still quite tipsy, and you knew it.

Maybe that’s why you didn’t burst into tears when you noticed JJ Maybank coming to sit beside you.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment. He didn’t know what to say to you; you had nothing to say to him. You gazed out over the water, and wondered if you could dive into the water and swim to the other side of the earth at this exact moment.

Thoughts of your escape plan were broken by a familiar voice you loved so much it hurt.

“Y/N?” The word was soft, almost nervous. The sound of it made you concerned. JJ never talks like this.

Instead of replying with some sassy answer as you normally would when drunk, you gave a simple “Yes?”

You heard JJ take a deep breath from beside before speaking again. “I, uh… I heard what you and Kie were talking about in the room. What you said.”

“You were eavesdropping on us? That’s kinda fucked up, J.”

“I-I didn’t mean to!” He defends himself quickly. “I was, uh, walking by and I heard you crying. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Okay.” You sigh. You had an idea of what was coming next. He’d give you some sympathetic ‘I’m sorry, I love you, just not like that’ and then things would never be the same afterwards. The last thing you wanted to happen would come true.

You’d lose him.

JJ didn’t seem to want to initiate the next part of the conversation, so you took matters into your own hands. “So you know? How I feel?”

JJ bites his lip, apprehensive. “Yeah. I-I do.”

You just nod; what else can you do? You feel the familiar lump form in your throat. Your head drops, tears pouring from your eyes almost immediately. You can’t believe you were going to lose him.

“Y/N-” JJ begins, but you are quick to cut him off.

“No, J. I don’t need your sympathy. ‘You love me, just not like that.’ Don’t worry, I already know. Can we just move on?”

“But, Y/N-”

“No, JJ!” All the emotions you’ve hidden from him for so long were bursting out of you. You couldn’t tell whether it was from the alcohol or your vulnerable state, but the words came spilling out of you.

“I can’t. I-I can’t hear you say it. I’ve been dealing with this shit for so long. I’ve always known you don’t love me like that, and that’s okay. B-But I just can’t handle hearing you say it. So just… I don’t know… say you’re sorry and go back inside. I know things will never be the same between us after this, so I’ll move my things out of the guest room. It was your room first, I’ll sleep on the outdoor couch. I just- I just hate things had to end this way. I-I love you, J, and I always will, and it sucks that you don’t-”

Your words are cut off by JJ grabbing your face and crashing his lips onto yours. The sheer power of the kiss knocks you backwards, laying on your back with the blonde boy you love so much hovering over you. Kissing you.

JJ Maybank, finally kissing you.

At this moment, you silently condemn yourself for laughing at the dramatic first kisses between characters in movies. Fireworks always light up in the background, and it feels like they’ve been waiting for this moment their whole lives. You’ve always thought the whole thing was cheesy and overexaggerated, but now, experiencing it, you knew you were wrong.

Kissing JJ for the first time felt like everything you’ve ever needed. Like there was a missing piece in your life up until this point, and it’s finally been filled.

In your entire lifetime, nothing has ever felt so right.

After a moment, JJ pulls away, looking at you with a look in his eyes that he’s never seen before.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that.”

And then he’s kissing you again, and the sparks fly for the second time that night. You knew, and he knew, that you were kissing your soulmate.

You stayed like that for a while, holding each other, finally expressing the love you’d both been hiding for so long. Once you were done, you laid on the dock, wrapped in each other's arms, watching the stars.

JJ noticed your breathing getting heavier, and soon you were asleep. He looked at you for a moment. Even sleeping, you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

The boy picked you up and carried you back to the porch, where he lays down with you on the couch.

He wraps his arms around you, never wanting to let go.

“Hey, J?” You mumble, barely awake.

“Yes, baby?” He replies softly, making your heart flutter at the nickname.

“I love you so much.”

JJ smiles. “I love you too, Y/N.”

You fall asleep to the sound of the words you for so long wanted to hear, wrapped in the arms of the beautiful boy you finally get to call yours.

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you-cant-spell-subtext-without · 3 years

Text

I know we are all discussing the latest episode of Season 16, but I need to wrap up 11 for my own sanity (because there is a LOT to discuss in my Season 12 rewatch already), so without further ado - more rambling for you.

I’m not going to include 11x20: Don’t Call Me Shurley because I think I’d like to do an entire Chuck - arc - series. Rob Benedict is a gift; that dad mug kills; and I love that the fan theories about Chuck spinning around this fandom for years turned out to be correct after all (WEIRD HOW THAT HAPPENS WITH CHARACTERS EH). Moving on.

As you will recall, two recaps and many many many crackhead other posts from my corner of super hell ago, I ended the 11x18 recap with this image of Amara realizing...”something” after Dean said Cas’s name (just before she took Casifer with her), Dean/Amara unbreakable connection be damned. Speaking of unbreakable connection this post is partially the AMARA DISSERTATION. Buckle up.

FF to 11x21: All in the Family; the boys are shooting the shit with Chuck and in the meantime, Amara is torturing Casifer. Important to note that just recently the actual Cas was enlightened that Dean wants him to cast Lucifer out, so I presume he is a little more active at this point, and that strengthens the following hypothesis. Look how Amara is looking at Casifer here:

And here, right before she touches him on the chest.

It’s the same look she gave Dean. She’s trying to decipher something; trying to figure something out.

She appears to Dean in the VERY next scene, to show him how she is torturing Casifer. But the real point is, of course, to show him how its affecting the physical form of Cas, reminding him its not just Lucifer who is suffering. It works.

DEAN

Amara is – she's in my head. [Sam looks at him sharply] Hey, I didn't ask for it, okay? She just showed up. But she's showing me visions of – of Lucifer. By Lucifer, I mean Cas, and he looks like crap – like she's really doing a number on him.

***Note, yet again, despite the *connection* Amara/Dean supposedly share, all he can think about and talk about is Cas.

And Amara knows it. That’s the realization she has in 11x18. Dean loves Cas. Then, in 11x21 she realizes Cas loves Dean. So, she uses it to her own ends. Smart girl.

Enter Donatello (I love him), prophet of (not) the Lord. He, Metatron, and Sam set out to rescue Casifer while Dean distracts Amara. If we start with the presumption she now has the prior additional insight, the following snippets of dialogue hit a little different.

AMARA

This place, this world hasn't been especially easy for you. Why not at least consider my offer?

*********

DEAN

You're right. I am drawn to you. And it bothers the hell out of me, 'cause I can't control it.

AMARA

Then why fight it? What you're feeling is that I am the end of your struggle.

***AHEM, this was not the FACE CUPPING I requested.

What keeps Dean from having it all? What is his struggle? It’s not the monsters or the hunting. Dean’s repeatedly shown he loves this life; he doesn't want anything else (and the one time he did try it in Season 6, it was half-ass at best, and he left the minute Sam returned to go back to hunting). Dean’s KEY struggle in the show is internal. He represses his feelings, pushes his pain aside, resulting in a cycle of self-loathing and anger. That cycle keeps him from having it all - accepting he can be loved, allowing himself to give his heart to someone else. And at this point, Amara not only knows that someone else is Cas, she knows that Cas feels the same way. Girl, welcome to super hell. Take a damn seat by Sam.

11x22: We Happy Few

I’ll skim through this one so this post doesn’t completely make your eyes bleed due to the sheer length.

The splicing with the scenes of everyone assembling different factions to form the new “line-up” needed to trap Amara is excellent. I’ve already done a short post on the brilliance of Dean heading to get Crowley and the ex-boyfriend mood of it all (Dean, of all people, telling Crowley to sober up gives me an ENTIRE head canon of the Crowley/demon!Dean unseen dynamic in Season 10). And of COURSE Dean knows exactly what to say to convince Crowley to get on board. I also enjoy our future Sam-witch as the emissary to Rowena (”three’s a coven” would be a great tattoo, TBH).

BONUS:

I love her.

Big fight scene with Amara ensues, but this isn’t the finale so she cannot be beaten. However, right before she mortally wounds Chuck, she does this:

[Yelling, LUCIFER charges her from behind again, but AMARA flings him hard against a support pillar across the room.]

AMARA

Goodbye, nephew.

[She banishes LUCIFER. CASTIEL slumps unconscious to the floor.]

DEAN: Cas!

(He rushes AMARA, but she flings him away without effort.)

***She banishes Lucifer. She could have just killed him. Ended him entirely, and Cas along with him. But she BANISHES LUCIFER. Because of what she learned in the prior episode. Because of the pain she saw in both of those idiots.

She does this for Dean.

Anyway, thank you Casifer FOR YOUR SERVICE. I miss you already.

11x23: Alpha and Omega

There is nothing more precious than Dean sending his brother to check on GOD while he goes to check on his boyfriend:

DEAN: [Grunting]

Check on him.

SAM: [kneels next to Chuck]

Hey. Chuck?

[Dean kneels down next to Cas and puts a hand on his shoulder. Cas stirs and looks up at Dean]

CAS:

Dean.

DEAN:

Cas? Hey, is that you?

***All the heart eyes for the reunion!!

*********ALSO SHOULDERRRRRRRR

Chuck is dying, Rowena bonds with him. Crowley is gold in this finale. I MISS YOU MARK. This line is NOT in the transcript/script I used, and it potentially being ad libbed makes it even better.

Dean decides to deal with the end of the world by drinking ONE beer, then deciding there is “not enough” beer and grabbing Cas for a beer (and....*feelings*) run.

DEAN:

You know what? This isn't gonna be enough. I better make a run.

[Sighs]

No reason to die sober, huh?

[to Sam]

You want to?

SAM: [frustrated]

No!

*********************

DEAN:

Be right back.

SAM:

I'll stay here, find our Plan B.

DEAN:

Okay. Cas, come on.

Nothing makes me more pleased than the assumption that of COURSE Cas is coming with him. I mean, he just got him back. Also, Sam is frustrated because he is back in super hell, obvi ;)

***Now we have the little “you’re our brother” bit in the Impala beer run dialogue, but to me it’s because Dean doesn’t know how else to express what he’s feeling. Repression, people.

The look of literal PAIN on Cas’s face at the “brother” line makes me cackle. Misha Collins DESERVES AN EMMY; he is doing the Lord’s work with his Acting Choices here.

This little part before is what really gets me though, especially with all of the WORDS OF AFFIRMATION:

[Dean and Cas are driving in the Impala]

DEAN:

How you doing? You good?

I mean, you know, the whole Lucifer thing.

CAS:

I was just... so stupid.

DEAN:

No, no, no. It wasn't stupid.

You were right. You were right to let Lucifer ride shotgun.

Me and Sam wouldn't have done that.

CAS:

Well, it didn't work.

DEAN:

No, but it was our best shot, and you stepped up.

CAS:

I was just trying to help.

DEAN:

Well, and you do help, Cas.

***ITS JUST SO LOVELY. Dean asking Cas how he is doing (what Cas always asks Dean); telling Cas he wasn’t stupid (throwback to Cas telling Dean he was stupid “for the right reasons”); acknowledging that Cas does HELP. That he is important and appreciated. THIS IS SUCH GROWTH. I LOVE IT SO MUCH. Speak his love language, King.

Anyway, then Dean turns into a human bomb because martyr!dean gonna martyr and be “daddy’s (Chuck filling that role here) blunt little weapon” and we get -

THE DESTIEL GOODBYE. Tell me they didn’t actually go canon for the FIRST time here. I will fight you.

LOOK at Cas watching him in the background.

These fucking desolate eyes. I’m crying.

THEY JUST GOT EACH OTHER BACK -

(I recognize this .gif is meh quality but I love that he turns and walks to him and Cas just GRABS him in this crushing hug)

DEAN [accepts the hug good-naturedly but then looks sad]

Okay, okay.

***”good naturedly??? ok Jensen “Acting Choices” Ackles. That is not “good nature” that is BLISS.

AND THEN THIS -

SOBS IN ENOCHIAN.

***I literally had to remind myself that the reunion hug is coming; it’s just an episode away. I’ll make y’all feel better too; here it is - A PERFECT PARALLEL. Curse this show.

MORE OF THIS “GOOD NATURED” HUGGING PLEASE.

Anyways, back to depressing subtext.

DEAN:

Okay, look. I want a big funeral.

All right? I'm talking epic.

Okay? Open bar, choir, Sabbath cover band, and Gary Busey reading the eulogy.

*****This scene lives in my mind rent-free as PROOF 15x20 doesn’t exist.

I can’t skip over further growth in Dean’s goodbye to Sammy.

***He’s being serious. Seasons 1-3 Dean would never have admitted this. I was a blubbering mess at this point.

So, Dean heads to Amara, and the rest of the gang heads to the bar.

CROWLEY:

Your round, Moose.

***I would love an entire bottle episode of Crowley, Sam, Rowena, and Chuck at that bar TBH.

And then, Dean saves the day. BUT NOT by dying and sacrificing himself, letting himself be used as a weapon of mass destruction. No, he fixes the DAMN WORLD by connecting to Amara emotionally, and bringing her and Chuck back together, because he understands that not to be alone is what she really needs; that her own struggle is the same as his - letting in love instead of raging against it and fighting her own need for companionship. Because that’s where ELDEST SIBLING AMARA AND Dean Winchester CONNECT. Amara isn’t in love with Dean. She identifies with Dean. She sees her own feelings in him, her own pain, and that’s why she exorcises Lucifer and saves Cas - FOR Dean. Amara’s just a Dean girl, everyone. And we know Dean girls protect Cas at all costs.

Yup. Amara Dean Girl Darkness Heller.

That’s it. That’s the dissertation.

See you in Season 12, where I will attempt to figure out the reason behind the British Men of Letters, killing Hitler, the brain melt that is Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox, the comedy of errors that is Cas playing Dean hot and cold, and the Mary Winchester of it all.

#destiel #spn analysis #spn meta #supernatural #spn family #spn fandom #spn season 11 #amara #spn recap #dean winchester

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obx-adventures · 4 years

Text

The Fall

Summary: Grace just moved from Figure Eight to the Cut. She never expected to run into her old friend, Kiara, and discover she lives next door to JJ Maybank.

A/N: If you want to be added to the taglist for future chapters, let me know. I also add people to the list who reblog any of the chapters.

Catch up here: Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4

——

Chapter 5

“You just planning on ignoring me?” Kiara gave Grace a few minutes to collect her thoughts after she got in the van but can’t wait any longer. “Grace, come on, talk to me.”

“Nothing, Kiara. It’s nothing.” Grace’s voice is barely a whisper.

“Look, something obviously happened with your dad yesterday. I get that you don’t want to talk about that. But it doesn’t explain JJ being at your house this morning wearing the same clothes as yesterday or the weird vibe between you two. At least tell me what’s going on between you and him.”

“Kiara, if you want me to be able to get through my shift today, please let this go.” Grace’s grip on her emotions is slowly slipping. She’s not used to having people notice when she’s having a difficult time and it’s making it a lot harder to keep her composure.

“Ok, you don’t have to talk about it. But can I say one thing really quick?” Grace nodded but stayed quiet. “I’ve never seen JJ act like he does when he’s around you. He is horrible at talking about and showing his feelings and being vulnerable, but it doesn’t mean that the feelings aren’t there. My advice for you is to consider his actions as a whole, not just whatever happened between the two you since last night.”

True to her word, Kiara doesn’t say anything else during the trip to The Wreck. Grace silently mulls over everything that has happened between her and JJ. Was Kiara right? Grace didn’t really know JJ before becoming a Pogue so she can’t compare his behavior with her to his behavior with other girls. But if he felt the same about her, why would he reject her last night? She didn’t let him explain this morning, just assuming that he would try to let her down gently.

As they pull into the parking spot at The Wreck, Grace decides to give JJ the benefit of the doubt. Before Kiara can get out of the car, Grace grabs her arm gently to get her attention.

“Thank you, Kiara.”

Kiara is intuitive enough to know that Grace doesn’t want to talk about this anymore, so she offers Grace a smile and hugs her quickly. When she lets Grace go, she notices tears glistening in her friend’s eyes and gives her one final squeeze on the shoulders before getting out of the car.

---- “JB? You here?” JJ calls out as he walks into the Chateau.

“Hey, man. Where did you go last night?” John B has been worried about his best friend since he left the Boneyard last night. Normally, that means JJ went home but John B can’t find any new bruises. Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean they aren’t there

“Just wanted to make sure Grace got home ok.” John B furrows his brow in confusion. He knew that something was off with the newest member of the Pogues, but JJ has never left a party to check on a girl.

“What was going on with her yesterday? Is she alright?”

“She’s got some family stuff going on. Rafe was a fucking asshole to her and she had enough.”

“Is she ok now?” John B studies JJ from across the room, trying to understand the weird vibe he’s giving off.

“Uh… not really. She’s working now and I’ll see how she is when I pick her up later.”

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately. Are you two a thing now?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” JJ pushes down his irritation, knowing John B is just fishing for information. He’s made comments about JJ and Grace for the past week or so. JJ has tried to hide his feelings for her better but apparently that hasn’t worked very well.

“Bullshit. I see how you are with each other.” JJ shrugs at John B and refuses to make eye contact. “Are you macking on her?”

“No. You know the rule.” John B rolls his eyes at his friend.

“Fuck the rule. And Grace wasn’t part of that rule. She just became a Pogue a few weeks ago. Don’t use that as an excuse.”

“Shut up, JB. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Whatever you say, man. But you two are clearly into each other. Just man up.”

JJ storms into his room at the Chateau and slams the door. He knows John B is right, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Why would Grace like him? She’s smart and strong and kind while he’s a fuck up who is only good at surfing. His own parents don’t even think he’s worth a damn so there’s no chance she would. He closes his eyes and remembers the way she looked at him last night. When he was holding her before Kie texted, she looked at him the way no one else did. And then when she came back from the bathroom, he thought that maybe she wanted to kiss him too. But she was drunk and sad. People do a lot of things that they think will make them feel better. There’s no way she would want to kiss him sober. Just because she was upset earlier, doesn’t mean she wants him. She was just embarrassed. Right?

He wakes up an hour later to his phone beeping, but he silences it and rolls over. Thirty minutes later, John B and Pope barge into his room.

“JJ, you have to text Kie back.” Pope is frazzled and out of breath.

“Did you run here?” JJ asks, confusion lacing his voice.

“Kie told me to find you ASAP. Grace needs you.”

“What’s wrong?” JJ bolts out of bed and throws on clean clothes.

“Her mom came to The Wreck and was really drunk. She was crying and begging Grace to forgive her. Kie couldn’t figure out what they were talking about, but she thought you would know.”

“Is her mom still there?”

“Yea, Grace went back to the office and locked herself in. I guess her mom is banging on the door and sobbing.”

“Fuck… JB, can I borrow the van?” In response, John B throws JJ the keys. “Thanks, man. And… sorry about earlier.”

“It’s fine, just go.” JJ pats John B on the shoulder and runs out of the house.

----

“Grace? Where are you sweetheart?” Grace is hiding under the desk with her hands over her ears when she hears JJ’s voice.

“JJ?” Grace calls out.

“Yea, Kie gave me the key so I can check on you.” A wave of comfort rolls over Grace. Despite their fraught exchanges this morning, Grace is relieved that JJ is here.  “Is my mom with you?” JJ follows her voice and realizes where it’s coming from.

“No, Kie’s dad got her to calm down and move away. What are you doing under the desk?” JJ sits down next to Grace and gently wipes her tears from her face.

“Just trying to block her out… Kiara called you?”

“Yes and no… she texted me, but I was ignoring my phone. She sent Pope to find me.”

“What did she tell you?” Grace won’t look at his handsome face, too afraid that she’ll see pity in those beautiful eyes.

“That your mom was here, drunk and upset, trying to talk to you.” JJ sees the familiar flush of her cheeks and scolds himself for not being tactful. “Hey, hey, no need to be embarrassed. You should hear some of the stories about my dad… Are you ok?”

Grace shakes her head no and JJ scoots closer to her and wraps her in his arms. He kisses her head as she cries against his chest. After a few minutes, Grace pulls back and wipes her face.

“I’m sorry, JJ…”

“For what?”

“This is the third time you’ve had to deal with my breakdowns since last night. I’m sure you would rather be doing anything else right now.”

“No way. I’m right where I want to be. You’re important to me and I’m here for whatever you need.”

Graces studies JJ’s face, hoping to find sincerity. She does but also sees something else that she can’t name. It’s the same thing she saw last night before Kiara texted him. But what does it mean? As if reading her mind, JJ reaches out and squeezes Grace’s hand.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here.” JJ helps Grace out from under the desk.

“I’m only half way through my shift.”

“Mr Carrera said you could take the rest of the day. Come on… I have the van and I want to take you somewhere.” Grace nods at JJ and tries to clean herself up a little in the office mirror. “You look beautiful already.”

Grace offers JJ a shy smile and grabs her purse from the locker. When they leave, they use the service door, so Grace doesn’t need to see anyone else on her way out. After she gets into the van, she texts Kiara to thank her for her help and tells her she’ll call her later.

“So… where are we going?”

“This place that Big John used to take me and John B to when we were younger. I still go there sometimes to be alone and get my head on straight again. I think you’ll like it.”

JJ drives them to a part of the island that Grace has never been. She tries to observe the new terrain instead of letting her nerves get the best of her. JJ seems just as nervous, tapping rapidly on the steering wheel as he drives.

“Here we are… Redfield Lighthouse. You ever been here?”

“Uh… no. I didn’t even know this was here. We can go inside?”

“Well… not technically… but I always just sneak up there.” Grace looks anxious but that soon disappears when JJ grabs her hand again. “Come on, it’ll be fine.”

They climb the stairs and get to the gallery without running into anyone. JJ drags Grace over to the edge and sits with his legs dangling over the side. Grace is skeptical but JJ pats the area next to him for her to sit down. They sit in silence for a few minutes. Grace is about to speak but she can see that JJ is trying to find the words, so she gives him more time.

“Grace… I wanted to kiss you last night.” Grace flushes pink and JJ chuckles as he brushes over her cheeks with his fingers. “I’ve wanted to kiss you every day since the first time you went out on the Pogue with us.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“You were drunk and the whole thing with your parents is a lot. I didn’t want to risk doing this… us the wrong way.”

“Us?” Grace finally feels a flicker of hope. Maybe JJ does want to be with her.

“Well, I mean, I hope so. I remember the spark I felt when I touched your hand that night before you got out of the van. Then I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you. I’d catch myself watching you all the time when you were talking to one of the others. You would smile and I could feel my whole body relax. Sometimes I thought I could feel you watching me too. And then the other night… nobody has taken care of me the way you did. I finally felt peace when I fell asleep with you that night.”

“I felt that too. You’ve been my safe harbor during all of this. You’re the only person who has ever really known me…” Grace’s words fill JJ with confidence and hope.

“Can I… can I kiss you?”

Grace bits her bottom lip and nods shyly. JJ moves closer and brings his calloused hands up to cup her cheeks. He leans towards her and brushes his nose against hers. He pauses and stares into her eyes, searching for any reservations. She smiles slightly and moves the rest of the way to meet his lips. The kiss starts off soft and gentle. Grace brings her hands up, resting one in the crook of his neck while the other runs through his hair. He leans further into the kiss and probes along her mouth with his tongue. She obliges, opening her mouth to allow him entry. They get lost in the bliss of a perfect first kiss until they both need air. They rest their foreheads against each other, keeping eye contact as they catch their breath.

Taglist: @agirlwholovescoffee @alexa-playafricabytoto @mendesmaybank @teamnick @laurenyee09 @prejudic3 @teaheeee @shy-1234 @rudyismymanperiod @teaparadiso @ifilwtmfc @bxmaaa @qevon @lemur46

47 notes · View notes

unicamendes · 4 years

Text

Saving Face | Chapter 1: New Beginnings

authors note: hope this fic makes sense, i’ve been listening to some sad shit anyway enjoy 😊

couple: jj maybank x kook!reader, rafe cameron x kook!reader

summary: new beginnings turns to being the savior.

warnings: language, cringy writing, angst, alcohol

“Yo, who’s that?” JJ points out to the tan girl who was wearing a blue v-neck floral dress and carrying boxes in her hands as she headed inside the house. She was pretty, dark brown eyes, black wavy hair and a cute nose. The color blue did wonders on her beautiful tan skin. JJ felt a interest in her.

Weird. He thought.

John B and Pope look to the direction JJ was looking at.

“Oh shit! No fucking way!” Pope exclaims struggling to straighten himself on the passenger seat of John B’s van. The guys were waiting outside of Kie’s house for their afternoon hangout at the chateau. John B and JJ furrowed their eyebrows.

“What’s up with you?” John B asks curious on his best friend action.

“That’s Y/N Romano Cortes. Her family is filthy rich.” Pope explains, before continuing. “Richer than the Cameron’s, hell richer than all the fucking Kooks in figure 8.”

JJ looks back at you and he sees you laughing and joking around with a guy as both of you take boxes back inside the house again. “How filthy rich are we talking about?” JJ looks back at Pope.

“Her mom, Marina Vos Wolf is a businesswoman. Her father is the Axel Romano Cortes,” Pope pauses as he motions his two best friends to get close. John B and JJ glance at each other shrugging it off and lowering their heads at the same level as Pope’. “Rumors say he’s some type of drug lord or some shit.” Pope whispers.

JJ scoffs removing himself from the circle. “Yeah right. How would you know that? And how the hell do you know all this stuff?” JJ takes his lighter, playing with the flicker.

Pope gives an awkward laugh which made the corner of his lips to rise up. “I might have eavesdropped when I saw them having a conversation with the Cameron’s at The Wreck when I was helping Kie clean up.”

“And you heard him say he sells drugs?” John B says jokingly.

“No! I just heard Ward say how they should work together and help each other out and—” Pope was cut off by the slide door of the van being open.

“What’s up dudes.” Kie makes herself inside the van and sits down. The three dorks say their hello, before John B starts the car and head to his place. Forgetting about the conversation the three boys shared.

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

“Kie, do you by any chance know who’s Y/N Romano Cortes?” JJ asks. JJ seemed too interesting on her and the fact that her father might be a drug lord makes it more interesting.

“Oh, yeah her family bought the house across from ours. She came over to my house one time to introduce herself and then I saw her at the Wreck with the Cameron’s. Why?” Kie takes a sip of her cold beer. It was just JJ and Kie outside of the chateau as John B and Pope were inside.

JJ takes out a joint from his cargo pants, bringing it to his lips holding it in place. “Have you met her parents?”

“Just her mom...quite nice, very friendly,” Kie gives a soft chuckle before saying, “for a kook family.”

JJ now takes his lighter and lights up his joint taking a hit. He gesture the joint to Kie, earning a no from her. “Got to be sober, have to be home. Dad says he wants us to have a family dinner with the Cortes.”

“Wait what? Today?”

“At exactly,” Kie takes out her phone from her back pocket her eyes widen, “shit! like exactly right now. i gotta go. I need a ride.”

JJ is not in the right state of my mind to drive, being high as hell right now.

“John B! Kie needs a ride back home!” JJ calls out. John B comes out already with his keys.

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Monday, afternoon.

“Mija, just listen to your father please?” Your mom pleads. Your parents called you for a family meeting that was taking place at your fathers office room. Your two older brothers were sitting on the couch, drinking their vodka with ice.

You roll your eyes finally taking a seat on the opposite side of your father’s desk your mother standing next to him as his supporter. “What’s this is about?”

“Are you okay with being on a arranged marriage?” Your father bluntly asks.

You felt your eyes bulged at the crazy ass question your father just asked. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Your mother gives you look, a warning to behave your self. She never liked your foul language.

“Her? In a arranged marriage? Father have you gotten mad?” Your oldest brother, Nate scoffs at the ridiculous idea your lunatic father has thought of.

“Nate. You shouldn’t talk to me like that. Remember I’m the one who gets to decide who gets to run my business.” Your father warns your brother. Your father was very strict and intimidating when it came with work.

“Nate, just back off okay I got this.” You always liked that Nate got your back no matter what. He doesn’t like it when your father belittles you.

“Father I appreciate your concern, but don’t you think I’m too young to be in a arranged marriage?” You softly spoke. You were just sixteen, marriage is not on your mind. Parties, hanging out with friends, going to movies, crushes all that teenage stuff is in your mind not this adult shit.

“Obviously you’re not going to marry now...but once you are 18 you’d be ready, so that’s why I asked Ward Cameron to ask his son if he can agree with it.” Your father opens his left drawer revealing a big file of paperwork which you assume was a contract between you and the Cameron’s. This made your blood boil, he actually thinks you’d agree with it.

“You being fucking serious!?” you yell aggressively standing up, making the chair move back.

“Y/N!” your mother warns. You look at her and then at your father.

“This is bullshit and you fucking know it! You’re just trying to save face because you don’t want to be known as the drug lord who gets their money selling drugs. Fuck your company!” Your breathing was heavy as your chest was rising up and down. “Fuck you!” You ran out of your father’s office, you heard your name being called out. You got your car keys needing some space and fresh air.

This cannot be happening.

~~~~~~~~

so this is just like a prologue, but tell me what you think and let me hear your ideas on how I should lead with this story! thank you for reading make sure to comment i’d really appreciate it! love you 😘♥️

#jj maybank #kierra carrera #pope heyward #john b routledge #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagines #outer banks #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #outer banks imagine #rudy pankow x y/n #rudy pankow x reader

96 notes · View notes

gingrrfrog · 4 years

Text

thank u, next

summary: looking back, jihyun realized she could never really live without jaehyun, even if she tried.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: smut, alcohol consumption, slight angst

a/n: this is a drabble/prequel/whatever to my main story line >> here!! << but um, read it anyway hehe

How Jihyun ended up on the floor of a club was beyond her memory. A smile was plastered wide on her face, her friends handing her drinks as they spun around and danced.

It had been a month since twenty-two-year-old Jihyun broke up with Jaehyun, as she was beginning to feel the repercussions of it. She didn’t just miss him, she needed him. She was so overwhelmed with schoolwork that she hadn’t noticed that she missed him, but now that the semester was over, she realized that she had more time to herself than she was used to, more time to reminisce about the way his lips felt on her forehead, on her cheek, her neck.

A bit under the weather, a few of her roommates concocted a girl’s night out, where they dragged Jihyun (barely needing the convincing) to the nearest club, downing drinks and swiping their cards faster than they could count. Surely her father would notice sometime soon since it was his card, but Jihyun promised that the second her father put a hold on the account she would stop. But it’s been hours now, and the card was swiped hastily at every occasion.

She was having the time of her life, she felt. Laughing, drinking, taking selfies in nearby lights and bathrooms as Jihyun realized she would never be this young again. Hit song after hit song, she found herself enjoying herself more, until a very certain song came up.

It was hilariously typical. Several types of liquor were of course going to show her the worst of her range of emotions. So, when Ariana Grande’s thank u next came on, she couldn’t help but to sob.

“one taught me love,” she choked out, downing another shot, “look what I got! Look what you taught me! “

God. She missed Jaehyun, she missed him.

Falling on the club’s couch to sob was not the original plan as her roommates deemed the night over. Jihyun cried and cried, her friends carrying her out of the club as they stumbled to their apartment, Jihyun searching for her phone.

“Where—where’s my phone?”

“I’ve got it, Gigi.” Hera said gently, stroking her head.

“I want—oh fuck,” she hiccupped, stumbling against her friend. “Fuck, I’m drunk.”

“What do you want, Gigi? Water?”

“No, I want to call Jaehyun.”

“Bad idea, sweetie.” Seoyeon tsked, taking the phone in her hands, “it’s late, call him tomorrow.”

“I always tell him goodnight, I have to tell him— “Jihyun hiccupped again, her head spinning, “I think I’m going to puke.”

Her third roommate, Soojin yanked her to the bathroom, holding her hair back as she vomited in the toilet. She spat a few times once she finished, resting her head against the cool toilet seat as Hera scolded her to move her head.

Jihyun’s bottom lip jutted out, tears falling out quickly as she sobbed again, “I want to call Jaehyun!”

“Call him tomorrow, Gigi— “

“No! Give me my phone,” Jihyun stood up, her knees betraying her as Soojin caught her.

Soojin, being the sober one for the night, sighed, taking Jihyun’s phone in her hand and holding it up, “go to bed. Get washed up, and we’ll think about calling Jaehyun.”

Jihyun pouted but nodded, pulling off her dress instantly and throwing it in Hera’s hands. Naked, Jihyun crawled towards the bathtub and sat inside, looking at Soojin expectantly with mascara stained cheeks.

Soojin took a deep breath and looked at her other two drunk roommates, who were preoccupied with giggling on the carpet. “Jihyun wants me to help her shower, is it smart for me to leave you two here?”

“Yes!” Hera said quickly, lifting her head up. “Give us Gigi’s phone!”

Without another thought, Soojin threw the phone in Hera’s hands again, Seoyeon groaning when it hit her in the face. The two girls laughed until they peed over it, Soojin going back to the bathroom and bathing Jihyun.

Jihyun was sniffling in the bathroom as she washed her hair, looking up at Soojin with sad eyes, “do you…do you think Jaehyun loves me still?”

“Maybe. He has a lot of things in his head right now.”

“Do you think I’m a bitch for breaking up with him before his dad died?”

Soojin shook her head. “You have to put yourself first, Gigi. If you don’t, who will?”

Hera and Seoyeon sat on the ground, looking at the pictures they took tonight before an idea popped into Hera’s head.

“Gigi looks really sad, do you think if she sees Jaehyun we can go out again?”

Seoyeon puckered her lips, “maybe! Should we call him to come over?”

“Try it!” Hera said excitedly, passing her the phone as Seoyeon searched through her contacts. Seoyeon put the phone on speaker as a muffled voice came from the other line, confused and very obviously tired.

“Jihyun?”

“Guess again! It’s Seoyeon and Hera!” Hera yelled into the phone, listening to a groan on the other end.

“To what do I owe this wonderful pleasure?”

“He’s kind of a dick,” Seoyeon whispered, watching Hera nod.

“I can hear you.”

“Gigi’s sad, and she’s making the night a bummer!” Hera whined, “come over! Maybe she’ll be happy again and then we can go back out!”

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Some ex,” Seoyeon clicked her tongue. “Fine! We’ll call someone else!”

“No! I’ll…” Jaehyun sighed. “I’ll come over.”

“Bring some wine!”

“Jaehyun, if you don’t bring wine, we’re not going to let you in!” Seoyeon yelled in the phone.

Jaehyun sighed heavily, “text me which one.”

Seoyeon and Hera cheered, hanging up the phone when they saw Soojin and Jihyun arrive from the bathroom. Soojin narrowed her eyes suspiciously, “why are you two so happy?”

“Delivery?” Hera replied, looking at Seoyeon for reaffirmation.

“Let’s keep the party going!” Seoyeon yelled, stumbling as she struggled to get on her feet. “Gigi, it’s time for wine!”

“She’s had enough— “

“It’s wine, Soojin! It doesn’t count!”

Jihyun’s smile widened, following her friends to the kitchen with a throw blanket draped over her shoulders.

Drunk again, Jihyun is surprised to hear the doorbell ring, Seoyeon and Hera grinning as they ran to the front door. Soojin continued to sip on her wine slowly, watching as her two roommates ran to the front door with a look to her face.

“They planned something, and I don’t like it— “

A loud cheer came as Jihyun and Soojin ran to the front door with a bottle of wine each. Jihyun froze upon making eye contact with Jaehyun, looking up at Soojin who appeared to be livid. Soojin grabbed Seoyeon and Hera by the hair, dragging them to the bathroom and forcing them a bath.

Jihyun didn’t know why she was crying, but she was still stupid drunk, staring at Jaehyun as she wiped her cheek, “hi.”

“Hi.”

“Why are you here?”

“Your…roommates called me,” Jaehyun picked at his fingers. Jihyun wanted to hold his hand. “I’m sorry, I’ll go— “

“No! Don’t… don’t go,” she said quietly, pulling at his sleeve, “come inside.”

Jaehyun shook his head, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jihyun.”

“Please don’t go,” her voice was barely above a whisper. “Let’s just talk.”

Jaehyun bit his lip as he took off his shoes, following Jihyun to her room and ignoring the screams that were coming from the bathroom. He sat awkwardly on the bed, looking up at Jihyun who rubbed her shoulders.

“Do you want some wine?”

“Uh, no. I don’t drink anymore.”

“Oh. Why?”

He shrugged, “it’s better that way.”

Jihyun tried to sit on the floor as soberly as she could, falling on her knees and landing on her stomach with a grunt.

“Careful,” he said, grabbing her arm and pulling her back up.

“I’m…very drunk.” She said with a laugh, looking at Jaehyun dizzily. Jaehyun smiled slightly, his hand removing itself from her arm.

“I know. I can tell.” He said, sitting across from her on the floor, “did you have fun?”

“At first. Then they played Ariana Grande,” she grumbled. “Why do they play her anyway? This is Korea, they should play Korean club music.”

“It’s just to keep the ambience fun. To appeal to other people’s tastes too, not just the minority.”

Jihyun hummed a response, not really paying attention to him and watching his lips move. “Oh.”

Jaehyun sighed, “I should really go, Jihyun. It’s late, you need rest.”

Jihyun shook her head adamantly, “I’m not tired!”

“Maybe you’re not, but it’s the only way to sober up.”

“But I don’t want you to go,” Jihyun’s voice wavered and her bottom lip quivered. She grabbed onto Jaehyun’s sleeve when he stood up, causing the other man to exhale deeply.

“I miss you,” she cried. “I really, really miss you Jaehyun, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that I left I thought—I thought I knew what I was doing but I don’t and I— “

“Stand up,” he gently instructed, Jihyun following orders.

She protested when Jaehyun started pushing her towards her bed, “I’m not going to bed!”

“Stop being a child, Jihyun.”

“Listen to me!” She yelled, pulling at his shirt. “I’m telling you that I love you!”

Jaehyun ignored her, finally managing to pull the bedsheets over her. “Goodnight.”

“No!” She yelled out, kicking the bedsheets off again and pulling Jaehyun’s arm again.

“I have to leave. I can’t leave Jisung home alone.”

“You can’t leave me!” Jihyun cried, pulling at his shirt. “Please, please, don’t go.”

“Why?” Jaehyun asked, his jaw set. Jihyun was nervous at the angered expression, quickly finding a reason, any excuse, for him to stay.

“I’ll let you have sex with me if you stay.”

Jaehyun glared at her, yanking her hands off of him, “you’re fucking braindead.”

“I know! I know that I’m stupid and I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I don’t think about anything, I don’t think things through, and I know you hate people that don’t think. I’m sorry that I’m so fucking empty headed and I’m sorry that I told you I needed space when you needed me. I’m sorry, Jaehyun, I’m sorry.”

Jihyun reached for his shirt again and inched towards him, wrapping her arms around his middle. Her fists clenched around the fabric of his shirt as he laid her down on her bed again, crying out louder as he began to remove her fingers one-by-one. He shushed her, her sobs reduced to sniffles as he laid down next to her.

“Go to sleep,” he said. “I’ll leave once you do.”

“Then I’m not sleeping.”

“Then I’m leaving.”

Jihyun frowned, holding his hand, “okay! Okay, I’ll go to sleep.”

She laid on her back and stared at the ceiling. Jihyun looked over at Jaehyun, who was doing the same before she moved to her side.

“Jaehyun?”

“What?”

“Can you hold me?”

He gave her a disapproving look but still opened his arms, sending a wave of relief through her. She snuggled in his arms the same way she would when they were together, sighing deeply as he rubbed her back.

“Jaehyun?”

“You’re not trying very hard to sleep, Jihyun.”

“It’s the last thing, I promise,” she said, listening to his heart beat in his chest, “can you talk?”

“About?”

“Anything, I promise it’ll make me sleep faster and you can go home.”

Jaehyun paused for a moment as he thought about what to mumble about. He decided to talk about Jisung’s middle school graduation and the food they had at the celebration, Jihyun closing her eyes and feeling the soft vibrations of his chest on her cheek, lulling her to sleep quicker than she would like. She dreamt of his cologne and of Jisung’s graduation, where she was wrapped around in Jaehyun’s arms, a kiss to her forehead that she couldn’t distinguish as real or not.

She woke up the next morning in an empty bed and with a headache to keep her company, groaning at the sun as she slowly sat up, looking around for any traces of Jaehyun left. Jihyun let out a few tears when she realized he was gone, getting out of bed and walking to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

She made her way to the kitchen where her roommates stood around a pot of steaming hangover soup, Hera and Seoyeon looking especially hungover as they looked at Jihyun bashfully.

“Gigi…we’re so sorry,” Hera started, getting up from her chair and holding Jihyun close. “We didn’t…we’re sorry. We’re so sorry for calling Jaehyun we didn’t even think.”

“It was really stupid of us it was so irresponsible we feel awful.” Seoyeon continued. Jihyun only smiled and shook her head, taking a seat next to her friends.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not we— “

“It’s fine, guys.” Jihyun said quietly, “we all do things when we drink…let’s just eat. Okay?”

Finally sobered up after a nap, Jihyun sat in her room and made herself look as pretty as she could. After getting the approval from her roommates about her look, she drove to the department store to buy a decent looking watch, one appropriate for a high schooler before she made her way towards Jaehyun’s house.

She knocked on the door and was semi-relieved to see it was Jaemin, who gave her a strange look before stepping aside.

“Hi, Jaem.”

“Hey…Jaehyun hyung isn’t home right now.”

“I didn’t think he was,” she said quietly. “I came to give Jisung a graduation gift.”

“A month late?”

“Now that I’m here, why not?”

Jaemin bit his lip, allowing Jihyun to step inside as she took off her shoes. She made the way up the stairs and turned the left to Jisung’s room, knocking on the door twice and hearing a come in.

Jisung was dressed casually, in a large t-shirt and athletic shorts, playing a game on his phone and sitting up instantly with a smile, “Jihyun noona!”

“Hi, Jisung,” she smiled, glad that someone was happy to see her. “I…heard that you graduated from middle school. I know it’s little late, I’m sorry, but I brought you a present.”

Jisung perked up at the sound of a present. He made his way to the corner of the bed, Jihyun sitting next to him as she handed him the box. Jisung took his time to unwrap the ribbon, opening the box and tilting his head in confusion at the gift.

“A…watch?”

Jihyun laughed at his reaction, “yes, a watch. You’re going to need it to track how long you study.”

Jisung scrunched his nose up before Jihyun latched it on his wrist, “plus, it makes you look older. More sophisticated.”

He moved his wrist back and forth with a small smile on his lips, looking at his arm in the mirror, “it does…kind of look cool.”

“Kind of?”

“It’s really cool,” Jisung smiled widely, hugging her tightly. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I’ll get you something cooler for your high school graduation, I promise.”

“Will you be there this time?”

“If you tell me when and where,” Jihyun nodded, “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

Jaemin appeared at the doorway, clearing his throat to make his presence known, “Noona, Jaehyun hyung is downstairs. Just in case you wanted to say hi.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you, Jaemin.” Jihyun looked at Jisung once more before ruffling his hair, “I’ll see you later, Jisung.”

Jihyun swallowed her pride as she walked down the stairs, her hands shaking as she glanced over at Jaehyun standing by the living room, flipping through pieces of mail with a concentrated face before he looked up at her in surprise.

“Oh, hey.”

“Hi…again,” she cleared her throat. “I was just dropping off a gift for Jisung. You said he graduated last night.”

“I didn’t think you remembered anything from last night,” he said nonchalantly. “You were pretty drunk.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jihyun took a deep breath. “I just…want to say that I’m sorry for last night. I’m sorry that my friends called you and I’m sorry that I acted the way that I did. You were right, I was a child. But thank you, either way, for…entertaining me…I guess.”

Jaehyun nodded, looking down at a piece of mail with great interest. Jihyun took her lip in between her teeth as she slowly spun on her heel, walking towards the front door before hearing the mail being dropped on the table.

“Did you mean it?” He asked.

Jihyun turned around, “huh?”

“I said, did you mean it?” He repeated, walking towards her. “What you said, last night?”

Jihyun played with her acrylic nail, looking at their feet on the ground, “of course I did. I wish I didn’t tell you that way, maybe it would’ve meant more…but I do miss you and I still love you. I think…I always will.”

Jihyun watched his face for his reaction, taking a deep breath before she lifted her foot, “I’ll just go— “

Jaehyun spun her around faster than she could realize what was happening, his lips on hers as she melted into him, her arms instinctively wrapping themselves around his neck as she returned his kiss.

“Say it,” he said breathlessly, barely pulling away. “Say it again.”

“I love you,” she sighed, pressing her lips against his again. “I love you, Jaehyun. Fuck, I love you.”

Jihyun allowed herself to be pulled onto the couch, falling on her back as Jaehyun continued to kiss her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling closer as he pressed his thumbs against her hips.

“You have no idea how hard it was for me to leave this morning,” he said, pressing kisses to her neck. “I just wanted to stay there, with you, forever. I wanted to tell you that I loved you too last night, but I wanted to make sure you meant it. I wanted to hear it from you sober.”

Jihyun felt the lump in her throat swell as tears pooled in her eyes again, pulling Jaehyun in for another kiss, “I’m sorry, Jaehyun I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

Jaehyun shook his head, “don’t be, baby. It’s okay, you’re here now, right?”

“But I could’ve been here sooner, I’m sorry.”

Jaehyun sat against the couch’s armrest, sitting Jihyun on his lap as he took her face in between his hands, “you had to do what was right for you, Jihyun. I’m not going to be mad at you for a choice you made for yourself.”

“But…you…”

“I’m fine. I figured it out on my own, the way someone should,” he reassured, pressing kisses to her chest. “The same way you did.”

“Is that why you don’t drink anymore?”

Jaehyun nodded, a small smile on his face, “or smoke. Yeah.”

Jihyun smiled, pulling him in for another kiss, “you’re amazing. I love you.”

Jaehyun sighed dreamily, “say it again.”

“I love you,” Jihyun said it ten more times, each punctuated with a kiss.

Their small, innocent kisses turned into lengthier ones with heavy petting. Jihyun allowed Jaehyun to pull her to the basement where the den was, pulling her close again, where they slowly peeled off their clothes.

“Can I ask you something?” She asked as Jaehyun unbuttoned her shirt.

“What’s that?”

“Why did you get mad when I told you to have sex with me last night?”

Jaehyun scoffed, “it was insulting. You thought I was there for sex. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I wanted to see you because I missed you too.”

“Do you think I’m brain dead?”

“No,” he said with a kiss in between her breasts, “that was just something I said because I was angry. I’m sorry.”

Jihyun pulled off her panties and threw them to the side, capturing Jaehyun’s lip, “make it up to me, and I’ll think about forgiving you.”

Jaehyun snorted, “you think you’re in the position to forgive?”

Jihyun whined, slapping his shoulder, “don’t make me cry again!”

Jaehyun laughed, biting her shoulder playfully before pressing a kiss to it, “I’m kidding, baby.”

“It was mean.”

“I know,” he chuckled. “I’m sorry.”

Jihyun reached behind her, grabbing Jaehyun’s length in her hand and pressing against her entrance, sighing happily as the tip pressed its way inside.

“Fuck...I think I missed this the most,” she moaned, bottoming out and tilting her head back, feeling beautifully full.

“Definitely...on the top of my list of things I missed,” Jaehyun gasped, his hands gripping her hips. “I don’t think I’m going to last long, Jihyun.”

“Me neither,” she breathed, kissing him quickly, “just fuck me, who cares.”

Jihyun bounced on his dick several times, Jaehyun meeting her halfway with thrusts of his own. He groaned every so often, speaking praises into her neck as he kissed her relentlessly, pressing his lips anywhere he could reach.

Jihyun whimpered in his hold, her hands gripping at his shoulders, soft moans slipping from her lips as her breast bounced in rhythm.

“Jae...Jaehyun...baby...”

“I’ve got you, baby, I’m right here.”

“Close,” she moaned, pressing more lipstick stains on his cheek. “Cum...cum with me..”

“Do you want me to pull out?”

Jihyun clenched around him, shaking her head fiercely, “no. want you to cum inside.”

It took a few more thrust on Jaehyun’s part to fulfill his end of the deal, Jihyun moaning loudly as she chanted Jaehyun’s name over and over again, clenching around his dick as she trembled in his arms. Jaehyun groaned, filling Jihyun up with a harsh bite to her collar bone, breathing shakily as they both found comfort in the others arm.

Jihyun smiled, resting her forehead against his as she rubbed the tips of their noses together, a sweet peck here and there as she held him close. She laughed at the lipstick kisses on his cheek, licking her thumb and trying her best to remove the pigment.

“You think you’re funny?”

“Hilarious,” she beamed. “we might need something stronger than my spit.”

“I think your make up wipes are still upstairs in my room.”

“You kept them?”

“Just in case you’d come back,” he said. kissing her forehead.

“Were you planning on winning me back, stud?”

Jaehyun laughed, “of course I was. it was just a matter of when.”

“Looks like I beat you to it,” she teased, smiling at Jaehyun’s chuckle.

“That you did. I’m glad you cracked before I did.”

“Was this a competition?”

“Sort of,” he teased back. “I won.”

She scoffed, “this is bullshit! let’s try again I’m sure you’ll crack first this time.”

Jaehyun shook his head, “not a chance.”

“Just, for like, five minutes.”

Jaehyun smiled, “nope. I’m never going to let you go again.”

Jihyun gave a toothy grin, holding him tighter, “fine. me neither. let’s see who can keep the other longest.”

“Deal.”

“I’m going to win,” she mocked, biting his bottom lip.

“No, it’s going to be me,” he teased in return.

“I’m going to win so hard.”

#am I late to the thank u next fanfics because I feel like I might be >:T #OH YEAH this is the break up they had if that isn't obvious #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun x oc #Jung Jaehyun #nct 127 smut #jaehyun smut #jaehyun scenario #nct scenarios #nct smut #mafia au #nct mafia #even tho there is no active mafia work here...whatever he's active foisdjfosdij #anyway #nct 127 scenarios #these nights au

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queerchoicesblog · 3 years

Text

An Unexpected Turn of Events

Hiya, folks! So, as previously announced, the wlw writing project continues after a break with a miniseries set back in Vienna, one of the iconic capitals of opera at the time of Mozart. An emerging singer gets the chance to be an understudy in the latest Mozart’s discussed opera Le Nozze di Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro), that premiered at the Burgtheater in Vienna on 1 May 1786, w and play the pants role of the page Cherubino. Preparing for the role doesn’t quite go as planned… .

Tagging: @scottishqueer

Previous chapter: The Understudy

Hope you enjoy it: if you do, please consider spreading the word!

____________________

A couple of days later I go back to Melchiorri for another session as planned. He is inflexible that I allow my voice to rest at least one day before practising again not to damage it. As I observe the streets of Vienna passing by from my carriage, I wonder if the little fugitive will visit us today too and a tiny smile crosses my lips. I should be bothered by such unprofessionalism but surprisingly I enjoyed the interruption. A private comedic enteract. It also reminded me the maestro is human: I stole a glance of the domestic, family life people like me is generally unfamiliar with. I don't plan to marry anytime soon honestly if I can avoid it, despite what my Aunt claims. I owe her and my uncle, the wealthy side of my family, everything. She brought me away from the small town by the Alps I lived with Mom, Dad and Hans, my little brother in a wooden cottage by a stream. We weren't indigents, we owned a small typography in town that mainly served the local journal of the valley and well, the church crafting the prayer books you would find on the bench every day at mass. We weren't rich with either: you don't exactly became high socialite with so little. Hans is now running the typography as my father's eyes are not the ones he used to have since he got sick. I don't envy my poor brother; I am glad I got my way out of that life. I am eternally grateful to Auntie Helga for insisting to drag me to Graz and deciding to turn me into a star of the opera after hearing me perform a solo in the church choir during one of her - not so frequent, actually - visits.

Auntie built her fortune over a good marriage with a promising young lawyer who couldn't resist her charm and eventually allowed her to live in sober luxury and even be invited to court. But that seemed to be her sole aspiration in life: she left the small town and never looked back. I am an opera singer, I want more. My career comes first and I have yet to meet a worthy match honestly. And no, I don't want to be a puppet, a doll to a man who will eventually ask me to leave the stage and my beloved arias to look after a child or be a proper wife, whatever it means. So, no, thanks, I chuckle in my head while taking the hand the driver offer me to get off the carriage. When I knock at the door, I am considering that maybe Herr Giorgio is not that bad, even if I didn't like the way he addressed the maid and the poor naughty boy. Nor the lusty looks he throws me. The maid welcomes me with a smile and a little reverence. Good girl, probably she expects me to chastise her too. As if I had any intention to do so! She takes my fur and quickly disappear into the wardrobe room before walking back towardsme. I thank her for her zeal but I know the way to the music room, the maestro is surely waiting for me, I say. I start walking but what she says next makes me freeze, confused. "Actually, Miss...the master is not here today. I'm very sorry. His wife is waiting for you in the tea room". What? That...that must be a joke. The maestro hired to prepare me last minute disappears before the official rehearsals. I turn and throw a bad look at the poor maid, who doesn't deserve it in the least. She's just a messenger, her eyes beg before lowering them to her feet. She's right, my anger is all for Mister Melchiorri. What do I do now? "Whatever, lead the way then" I exclaim, following her. "I can't wait to hear what the fair lady has to say about this". My voice is cold, sardonic; the girl doesn't say a single word while we walk in the opposite direction than my usual route in the house. She's certainly too afraid to dare say a thing. When we finally arrive to the right room, she knocks politely at the door and steps in when a female voice comes from the inside. She bows her head and announces my presence before disappearing back down the corridor. She stops only to let the door open for me. I let out an annoyed sigh and enter. The room is significantly different from the maestro's studio. No instruments, only paintings at the walls and fresh flowers on the little tables around the room. The perfume is delicate and inebriating: are they orchids, I wonder? A neat wooden library holds the place of honour on the main wall, opposite the fireplace and framed by windows that fills the whole room by natural light, even if the sun doesn't shine today: it will probably rain soon. Letting my eyes wonder outside I spot green and a carousel: I didn't realise we were so close to a park! Unlike the music room, here even if the furniture, the velvet armchairs, the Persian rugs, every decor are certainly expensive, the atmosphere is surprisingly...cozy, an adjective I would have never thought of associated with Melchiorri's place. It's almost inviting, calming? "Miss Bauer, I am so incredibly sorry for the the latest developments and all the trouble they must bring on you...but please, take a seat! Franziska will be back soon with fresh tea". I turn to see a woman gesturing me to join her by the fireplace. Her German has a thick Italian accent which gives her "a bit of exotic" as they say at court. She doesn't wear a wig, her long raven hair are done up in an elaborate grateful chignon and two curly strands frame her visage. She reminds me one of those shepherdesses portrayed in bucolic frescos at the Emperor's Palace. Her dress is not in character though: a plain, cerulean dress which is not necessarily cheap but does nothing to enhance her figure. Poor taste probably: even money can do little about it sometimes. She must be in her early thirties or so I wager and thinner than most ladies I know in her standing...I wonder why Melchiorri chose her if he's so clearly fond of female curves. Maybe it's another arranged loveless marriage. I wouldn't be surprised. I oblige and thank her politely, forgetting my anger for a moment. It surprises me, it must be a reflex, a natural response the soothing silky voice of the lady. Like the feral beasts tamed by the gentle melody of Orpheus' song, I think trying to shake away such thought. I suddenly realise that I don't know her name. Melchiorri never talked about her. But I don't want to tell her: it's not a nice thing to say to a wife, right? As if reading my thoughts, she shakes her head slightly embarassed. "I forgot my manners, didn't I?" she sighs. "You must forgive me, Miss, I do not receive many visitors lately and I've never been introduced to famous opera singers...nor any of my husband's pupils. My name is Cecilia, Cecilia Melchiorri". I feel a pang of sadness for this lady excluded from the theatre world his husband works in. I don't get why she has to be cast out like that. I've met other illustrious wives at social gatherings around Vienna or at court. I offer her my hand, gesturing no apologies are needed, and repeat her name. "Cecilia...". Sadly, I completely butcher it: I studied Italian for the opera but my Austrian tongue is still incapable to recreate the sweet sounds that comes so natural to her. It must not be the first time because her lips curl in a quick understanding smile. "You can call me Lia, if it's easier for you. My family used to call me so". Lia...what a pretty little name. I smile, grateful. "I will then, if you don't mind...Lia. You can call me Constanze: it seems only fair". "As you wish, Miss Bauer!" she says before realising her mistake. We share an amused look, even if hers is a bit more bashful. In that moment, after another polite knock, Franziska returns with the tea and some butter biscuits. They're different from the ones Mister Melchiorri usually offers me in his studio. She's serving the tea when a familiar figure materialises on the threshold of the room at my peripheral. Lia is giving him the shoulders so she can't see him. I turn in his direction with a smirk. "I believe we've already met, right, Sir?" The two women turn at unison too and the kid childishly hides his face but doesn't move. After a moment he spies us through his fingers and retrieves his hands, smiling. Franziska puts the tray underneath her arm and tells Lia that she will bring him to his room, making the boy pout. He's quite the character. "Maybe he followed you because he just wants a biscuit" I say, my eyes wandering between them to check if I'm overstepping. "Maybe you're right...but only if he doesn't bother you" Melchiorri's wife concedes with a tired smile. I shake my head and take the decorated plate in my hands. "Would you like one?" I ask in Italian to her son, not sure if he speaks proper German. His face brightens up and he nods enthusiastically. We share a soft laugh, even the maid joins. He gets ready to speed across the room when he stops, considering. He searches his mother for approval. Lia nods, asking to behave like a good boy though. So he approaches slower than he wanted, with great effort to refrain himself, and grabs a biscuit from the plate. Before taking a generous bite, he mutters a quick thank you. "Mystery solved" I comment, placing the plate back on the table. "You must excuse him, Miss Ba- Constanze" Lia say, gently pulling him closer. "Nino is not a bad kid, just a bit of a rascal at times". "A rascal with a sweet tooth" Franziska adds and we share another laughter. "I'm so sorry he interrupted your private session the other day. Franziska had quite a fair share of work to do and I was indisposed in my room, I couldn't look after him as I usually do". I dismiss her apologies, taking a sip of tea. "But it was fun, wasn't it?" I wink at Nino who chuckles. "Yes and she sings very well, Ma" he says, turning to his mother. "Of course, I heard her too from my room" she smiles. "She's a promise of the opera, it's written on the newspapers". "Sing again?" the little boy begs, expectantly. His childish enthusiasm amuses me. "I cannot do those trills now, I need to warm up my voice first" I apologise, before winking. "Another time, I promise". Lia whispers something into his ear and he thanks me, concealing his disappointment. Crumbs are stuck on his lips and make the smile that follows a bit funnier than it was supposed to be. "Now, sweetheart, why don't you follow Franziska back to the kitchen?" She says, stroking his curls. "Take another biscuit and she will give you a glass of milk, just as you like it, huh?". She doesn't have to say it twice: while the maid gently places and arm around his shoulders, guiding him away, he takes not one but two biscuits in his hands. He throws me a conspiratorial look before chuckling. Then he turns towards Lia and stretches his neck to kiss her cheek. She caresses his face and tells him to be good with Franziska. When the two of them are out of the room, she meets my gaze again, shaking hear head. "Apologies, Miss...I sent Franziska to buy these for you this morning and he managed to put his eyes on them. He became obsessed". "Kids" I shrug, unbothered. I am pleasantly impressed that she had such a kind gesture towards me. I mean it could be a way to get on my good side because of the news she has to give me...but after all, this situation is not her fault. Her husband left her to deal with this and me all alone. She turns serious and sighs. "Anyway, have you heard of the flooding near Salzburg?". "What?". "Torrential rain lead to conspicuous floodings in the area surrounding Salzburg. I don't know if Giorgio mentioned it to you but he head there after your session for a family emergency....his brother lives there". "I'm afraid he didn't say a thing about his little journey" I say, trying my hardest not to look angered, even if I am: I would have rather be informed sooner of such details. By the look on her face I can tell she expected such an answer. "He surely thought he would be back in time today, he didn't mention staying for long. But during the night the weather deteriorated and the roads are pretty much impracticable, so to speak. We've just received a note saying he will be back as soon as travelling conditions are restored and the emergency solved. Probably a couple of days...maybe more? He must have sent you a similar one, you just missed it because you were on your way here already". "A couple of days? Maybe more?" I exclaim. That's not promising... "The rehearsals start in a week" I frown. "I still need to practise...". "You are free to do it here if you wish, Miss" she suggests, apologetic yet encouraging. "I am perfectly aware this is a hideous setback for you with such a tight schedule. You must believe me when I say I wish we never put you in this situation...if there's anything I can do, Miss, ask away. I'm not my husband but...". I consider her words for a moment. My mind runs wild to find a solution for this unexpected unfavourable circumstance. I could find another maestro maybe but how, within such a short notice and little time before official rehearsals begin? I could do it on my own but another sudden foolish idea crosses my mind. "Do you play the cello, Mrs. Lia?" I must have taken her by surprise by the look on her face. She tries to conceal it, refilling her cup. "Why, yes. My father was a musician, I took cello classes in my youth but I don't see how this-". "Excellent! Then you can take your husband's place until the he’s back" I exclaim, cutting her short. My words must come as a shock: she almost spits her tea. "Beg pardon, Miss?". "You will be my maestro, well understudy maestro for the time being" I smile, explaining. "You said yourself that you can play the cello, you can assist me as I practice". "But...but I don't have my husband expertise" she objects, at loss of words. "You heard me practicing with your husband, right? So you must know how it should sound. And that aside, you can even tell yourself if my performance is good or not: you have ears too, if I am not mistaken". She opens her mouth to say something, anything to make me change my mind and spare her such thing...but nothing comes. Her lips presses together for a moment before she places her cup back on the table. "Very well, then...if you think it would work" she smiles weakly. "Just be patient with me: I do not usually play opera arias".

#wlw writing #wlw writing project #wlw miniseries #original work #lgbtqa+#vienna #opera

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multisuperfandom · 4 years

Text

Enough

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: After three months of radio silence and self-destruction, Cas has enough and forces you and dean into a locked room.

Warnings: ANGST, language, unrequited feelings, sad read, angry reader, sad dean

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: I wanna do a tag list, so if anyone wants to be apart of that, I would appreciate it a lot. Also, if anyone wants to request a one-shot or a series, I would love to do it.

~~~~~

Worthless

Disgusting

Ugly

Unlovable

That’s how Dean Winchester made you feel when he ended things with you. Granted the only you had was sleeping together, but it hurt nonetheless. You barely talked; before and during your “relationship”, so the no talking after shouldn’t bother you, right?

Wrong.

It bothered you so much that the only thing you can think about doing was talking to him. Well, more like yelling at him. Telling him how horrible he made you feel. How you thought that you could love him. Or maybe you already did. Maybe that’s why it hurt so much.

Did he break you? Is this what broken feels like?

Not being able to stop thinking about it. Drinking to numb the pain. Hating him and wanting him at the same time. Hating yourself for not being enough. But mostly just wanting to talk to him.

The echo of his laugh plays in your head. The memories won’t let you sleep. You and Dean used to bicker over everything, from the plan while hunting to the best pie flavor. You always thought you hated him, even after you ended up in his bed.

But maybe you always loved him.

~~~~~

How long have you been in the shower? Was it always cold or did you drain the heat from it?

You should wash your hair. You’re here and your hair is already wet, but the exhaustion sets in just considering it. Slowly, you gather the strength and will to climb out of the cold shower.

The towel isn’t soft or warm or comfortable at all, but it distracts you from your aching heart. You finger the stitching, counting the loops. You did that when you were younger and worried about your mother.

“Two weeks, promise,” she would always say, hooking her pinky around yours. But promises don’t mean shit to anyone. Two weeks never meant two weeks. Two weeks meant a month and a half, and you worrying so much that you forgot to eat and always had bad grades.

That was something you and dean bonded over when you first met before he preferred silence and hitting the wall with your bedpost over the sound of your voice. The worry for your parent, the worry about money, or someone finding out that you were basically living alone. Taking care of your siblings was the reason for your existence. You are more similar than you care to admit.

The only difference between the two of you is his brother came back, and yours didn’t.

There you go again, thinking about him. Back to counting stitches.

~~~~~

You should get dressed. You have a lot of angel friends who like to just show up uninvited. You should get dressed.

But the bag is all the way across the room and your blanket is surprisingly soft.

All you want to do is sleep. To live in another world where he might actually love you like he can’t in this one. Dean Winchester doesn’t do love, so you might as well dream of a place where he does.

~~~~~

While you sleep, Castiel watches over you, like he has done every night for the past three months. He didn’t understand why you left, but then Dean couldn’t go thirty minutes sober, and yelling and grunting became his favorite pass time. Now he knew. Dean pushed you away and you let him because he thinks he’s poison and you think you are unworthy of love.

Nothing good came out of this. Dean is slowly destroying himself without the one person who kept him together, and you can’t do anything without falling into a pit of sadness and desperation.

Heaven had worked so hard so that you and Dean would come together. And Dean was just throwing it away, and you were letting him.

Well, Cas wasn’t going to.

~~~~~

“Sweetheart?”

“Hmm?”

“Sweetheart, wake up.”

“No, Dean, I’m tired, just jack off or something.”

“Y/N, wake up!” You bolt up, clenching the thin sheets to your very naked body. Why was Dean in your motel room?

“Dean, what the hell are you doing here?” You ask him, noticing that he was sitting on your bed like he had been there awhile.

“I don’t know.” He absentmindedly rubbed his forehead. “Cas stormed into my room grumbling about something, I couldn’t understand him.”

“Was he speaking Enochian?” You ask Dean whose head is still facing down.

“Yeah, he might’ve been.” His head shoots up when you start laughing. His eyebrow tilts inward as you can’t stop. “What?!”

“You must’ve really done something to piss him off,” you laugh holding your stomach. Dean feels a slight pang in his heart as he watches you, but like every feeling he’s felt in the past three months, he pushes it down and away.

“If you don’t mind, can you please go hide in the bathroom or something?” You ask, remembering you are still completely naked.

“Why?”

“‘Cause if you don’t wanna see my ass, you’ll let me change in private.” He nods and goes to the bathroom as you asked. With a sigh, you’re about to get up when you hear the door handle jiggle and Dean groan. “What’s wrong?”

“The damn door’s locked,” he grunts, storming to the main door. Finding that door also locked, Dean presses his head against the door. “That bastard locked us in.”

“Why would he do that?”

“To talk this out or whatever.”

“What does he think locking us in a room will accomplish?” You sigh, wanting to cry but being so tired of tears. “He can’t force you to love me or want me again, so this is useless.”

“Y/N...” he trails off, not saying anything as he can’t think of a good way to explain why he broke things off. But the silence hurt more than any words he could’ve said.

“Can you please turn around?” And he does, trying to think of a way to get out and trying not to think about the fact that you are so much closer to him than you have been in three months. He tries everything to not think about the first time he met you or the last time you slept together. He tries so hard because he’s the one who ended things, he’s the one who doesn’t deserve the memories.

“You can turn back around.” And he does, just looking at you for a while. Letting silence fill the room, he memorizes your face in case this is the last time he sees you. He hopes he can remember you this way because in his mind you are happy and free of him, you have a glow to you that can’t make him look away. But in reality, you are horrible and struggling, wanting more than anything to just to be held by him again.

“Um, Dean?” You say, snapping him out of his gaze. He gives you a shy smile before muttering a ‘sorry’.

“So, what are we gonna do?” Trying to be strong, you ask. But you know the second the doors unlock, you will never see Dean again.

“I guess, you can come back if you want.” Another crack to your heart. He doesn’t want you back but if it will get him away from you.

“I can’t,” You state firmly.

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t, Dean.”

“Of course, you can. Cas and Sam miss you. They would love it if you come back.”

“Dean-“

“I mean, that’s why we are here in the first place. They want you back.”

“But you don’t want me back!” You yell. Of course, Sam and cas want you back. They are your best friends, but Dean doesn’t want you.

“What?”

“You don’t want me. The only reason you want me back is that we are stuck in a room together. But I can’t. I can’t watch you bring home other girls. I can’t watch you flirt with a witness to get information or a waitress to get free food. I can’t see you every day knowing that you aren’t mine anymore. I know you were never mine but there were times when it felt like you were really mine.” Fuck being strong, all you want to do is cry.

“I was always yours. Hell, I will always be yours.” He walks towards you. “I’m poison, sweetheart. I destroy everything I love. I killed my dad, I failed Sam and Cas, I failed the world. I couldn’t destroy you. I can’t let you die because of me.”

“Fuck you,” You sneer in his face, pushing your finger into his chest. “When are you going to learn that taking care of the world isn’t your responsibility? When are you gonna learn that letting people protect you isn’t your fault? When are you gonna learn that making mistakes is ok?

“And yeah, Dean, you did destroy me. I love you so fucking much that being without you broke me! You pushed me away to save me? How fucking ridiculous, is that? You want to save me? Keep me! You aren’t poison! You aren’t bad luck! You are a man! You are human. You aren’t going to destroy me by loving me. You are going to destroy me by leaving me.”

In a second, he was on you, holding you, kissing you. Dean tries to show you that he needs and wants you.

“Please, come home, I want you to come home.”

“Are you going to push me away again?”

“No, never.”

“Then, I’ll come home.”

~~~~~

Watching Dean drag you and all your stuff into the bunker, Sam smiles.

“I don’t care how you did it, Cas, but it’s good to see them smile again.”

“All he needed was her, and all she needed was him. They were just too heartbroken or stubborn to see it.”

“Well, thank you for saving my brother and my best friend,” Sam says before walking to his room.

Castiel smiles to himself, thinking about how much safer the world was going to be now with you and Dean together.

#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #dean x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #castiel x y/n #angst #fanfiction

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jrob64 · 4 years

Text

Devastation and Healing (Chapter 14)

Sergeant Killian Jones has had more than his share of tragedy in his life. When he’s injured in an IED explosion, he’s assigned to a physical therapist named Emma Swan. While she tries to help him heal physically, can they help each other heal emotionally?

Rating: T

Part 15/?

Chapter summary: Emma & Killian work things out.

So many thanks to all of you who are reading this story! I hope this chapter is what you’ve been waiting for! As always, massive thanks to @hookedmom, @captainsjedi, @kymbersmith-90, @kmomof4 & @xsajx.

Catch up with it on Tumblr: Prologue / Ch.1 / Ch.2 / Ch.3 / Ch.4 / Ch.5 / Ch.6 / Ch.7 / Ch.8 / Ch.9 / Ch.10 / Ch.11 / Ch.12 / Ch.13 /

Or on Ao3 & ffn

*********

Killian’s heart was lighter as he helped David paint the baby’s room, since he now had a plan of action in mind. He had to be at the library for training from 3:00-7:00, and then he was going to try to convince Emma to talk to him. She hadn’t answered any of his calls since she’d left, but if he had to park in front of her house until she got home from her visit with her family, that’s what hewould do.

He was going to fight for her.

When he got back to his room, he trimmed his beard back to the short scruff that he preferred, and took a shower. He was working on buttoning his shirt, when his phone screen lit up. The notification box showed a message from Emma. His heart rate sped up as he punched in his passcode as quickly as he could.

I’ve been at my dad’s, but I’m leaving to come home after dinner this evening. Would you be willing to come over and talk?

For the first time in days, a wide grin split his face. Then he sobered a bit when he realized that he didn’t know exactly what she meant when she asked to talk. It might not be a good thing, but at least he would be able to see her and explain some things. He quickly composed an answer - Absolutely. I’ll be working at the library until 7:00. Just let me know what time will work for you.

He considered adding a line to tell her that he missed her, but he didn’t want to push. He would just wait until he saw her in person.

*********

Emma read Killian’s response and breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted to talk to her! This time, she would give him a chance to have his say, and hopefully they could work through it. She told her dad that she would be heading back that evening, but that she’d like to stay long enough to eat dinner.

“I would love to have you with me for one more meal! Claire usually comes to dinner on Tuesdays, so you’ll get to see her again. I’ll be sad to see you and this little character leave,” he chuckled, rubbing his hand over Evie’s back, “but I hope you and your young man can work things out.”

“So do I. He’s going to come over when I get back so we can talk.”

“Well, please let me know how it goes.”

“I will, Dad.” She went back to sanding the board that she’d selected earlier. After a few minutes, she laid it down and walked over to where her father was setting up his power saw to cut boards for the side of the cradle. She put her arms around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder.

Marco stopped what he was doing to slip his arm around her shoulders.

“Thank you, Dad,” she said quietly, enjoying the feel of his bearded chin rubbing across the crown of her head.

“For what, Cygnet?”

“For letting me come here, for giving me time to myself to think, and for showing me that I should give this thing between me and Killian a chance. Oh, and also for all the great food!”

She felt him place a kiss on her hair. “You’re very welcome, sweet girl. You always have your home and family here whenever you want to come back. We love you very much.”

Home and family. Two things that Emma had ached for until she was ten years old, and thought she would never have.

“I know, Dad. I love you guys, too.”

*********

Could time go any slower? Killian thought, taking yet another look at the clock above the circulation desk. He felt like he’d been there for ages, yet only a little over two hours had passed. He’d tried to send Emma a text during his break a few minutes before, but got the notification that she was driving and was unable to receive messages. He assumed that meant she was on her way home.

Belle walked by and noticed that he was standing motionless with a book in his hand. She watched for another minute before she walked up beside him and asked, “Do you need some help, Killian?”

He jumped and the book almost slipped from his hand. “I’m sorry!” Belle exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to startle you!”

“No, it’s fine. I was just, um, I guess my mind was wandering,” he said, a little embarrassed that he’d been caught daydreaming.

“Are you having second thoughts about taking this job?”

“No! So far, I really like it. Of course, it’s only my first day of training, but I could never dislike being surrounded by books!”

“And great co-workers!” laughed Belle.

“Aye, that too!”

“Excuse me for saying this, but you seem preoccupied tonight. Is everything alright?”

He hesitated. “I, um, it’s been a few days since I’ve seen Emma. She’s been at her dad’s place, and she’s coming back tonight.” He shelved the book in his hand and reached for another one, while Belle plucked one from the cart, too.

“Oh, I see.” She moved away a few feet to put the book back in its place. When she returned, she said, “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Not at all.”

“How did she feel about your ex showing up at the ceremony?”

“She...I think she was confused and angry, just like everyone else.” He decided not to get into what had happened the following day. Hopefully after they talked in a few hours, they’d be able to put it all behind them.

“Well, I thought it was rude and disrespectful,” Belle commented. “Will was furious! He has no good for that woman, whatsoever.”

“Yeah, there’s a lot of that going around. I can’t figure out what I ever saw in her.”

“Emma is certainly more than a step up from her.”

“Are you kidding? They’re not even on the same staircase!”

Belle laughed along with him. “You two make a great couple, Killian. I’m sure you’ll be very happy to see her when she gets back.” She collected a small stack of books to reshelve in another corner of the library.

Killian went back to work with her words echoing in his head - you two make a great couple. He thought so, and could only hope that Emma felt the same.

*********

By the time his shift was over, Killian still hadn’t gotten any messages from Emma, so he drove back to the hotel to wait. When he still hadn’t heard anything after being back for ten minutes, he tried to text her again, but got the same ‘I’m driving’ notification. He was confused and a little concerned. It shouldn’t have taken her that long to get back.

After a few more minutes, he decided to go over to her house, since he was going crazy waiting in his room. He grabbed his keys and threw open the door...and nearly ran right into Emma, whose hand was raised as if she was getting ready to knock.

Seeing her standing there, Killian felt relieved, as though someone had shoved his heart back into his chest where it belonged.

“Hi,” she sputtered, obviously taken by surprise at him opening the door so abruptly. “I’m sorry. I know I told you I would send a message, but I thought it might be better if I just drove over here, so I wouldn’t have to wait around my house, and then I…”

Her nervous chattering was cut off when he suddenly surged forward and kissed her. He did it without considering that she might not welcome it. He was just so happy to see her again, he couldn’t help himself.

Emma melted into the kiss. The feeling it created within her reminded her of how she felt when she hugged her dad and August - like she was home.

Killian pulled away, and she chased after his lips, not wanting the kiss to end quite yet. He pressed his forehead against hers, then she heard his deep chuckle before he asked, “Would you like to come in?”

She bit her lip and her eyes fluttered open. “Yeah, sure,” she breathed, a little shakily. She moved past him into the living room, noticing the frame that had contained the picture of him with Milah in the trash can by the desk. He touched his fingers to his lips, which were still tingling, then closed the door and followed her.

She sat down on the couch and he took a seat on the ottoman, facing her. They both showed signs of nervousness - Emma was twisting the rings on her fingers, and Killian was rubbing the palm of his hand over his knee. Neither seemed to know where to begin.

Finally, he broke the silence. “Did you have a good visit with your dad and brother?”

“Yeah, I did. We had some really good talks and some great food. My dad spoiled Evie rotten!”

Killian laughed. “That’s good. I’ll bet they were both happy to spend some time with you.”

“I didn’t spend a lot of time with August, he was with his girlfriend quite a bit. My dad was glad for my company, since he’s often by himself these days.”

“Did you get to meet his girlfriend?”

“Yes I did. Her name is Claire, and I really like her. She picks on August almost as much as I do!”

He laughed again, and another silence fell over them. Then they both started to speak at the same time.

“Go ahead,” he urged.

“No, Killian. You start.”

He took a deep breath. “Emma, I’m sorry that I didn’t give you straight answers the other day. I was just kind of...caught by surprise, I guess, and I couldn’t get my mind to work fast enough.”

“Dammit, he was right,” she said under her breath.

“Excuse me?”

“August asked me if I pushed you to answer too quickly, since I probably caught you off guard. I hate it when he’s right.”

“I think I like your brother already!” he smirked.

“Yeah, well, when you meet him, don’t tell him that! His head is inflated enough already!”

Killian chuckled, then grew serious again. “I’ve done a lot of thinking over the past few days, and figured some things out. First of all, I do NOT love Milah, and I’ve come to realize that I never did. I’d spent years grieving for my family and wishing for someone to love again. Then she came along and she...she paid attention to me, you know? She fascinated me and made me feel like someone cared about me again. I should have noticed that she had tried to use her tactics on other guys on the base, some who were even in my own unit. They’d all figured her out, and they tried to tell me, but I was too caught up in having someone in my life again. I guess I was vulnerable, and she took advantage of it. When I look back at it now, it’s all so clear to me, but at that time, I just needed somebody.”

Emma reached out and put her hand over his. He flipped his hand over and entwined their fingers, thankful that she appeared to understand what he was trying to tell her.

“I never knew that anyone could be as cold and callous as Milah was to me at the hospital, especially someone who claimed to love me. I think...I think I kept that picture to remind myself to be careful who I trust with my heart.”

He untangled their hands and used his index finger to lift her chin. She slowly raised her eyes up to meet his.

In a voice husky with emotion, he said, “I want nothing to do with her, Emma. Seeing her at the ceremony and listening to her telling those lies, was all I needed to know that I’m ready to move on. I’m hoping it will be with…” He paused. He had insinuated what he was about to say when he was talking to Milah, but after what had happened on Saturday, he didn’t want to make Emma uncomfortable.

“With me?” she asked, her eyes wide and misty.

“Aye.”

Emma slowly leaned forward and he met her halfway to share a tender kiss. Afterwards, she sat back and looked down for a few seconds before making eye contact with him once again.

“I’m sorry, too, Killian. I jumped to conclusions and didn’t give you a chance to explain. Then I took off and didn’t tell you where I was going, and didn’t answer your calls or messages. I’m really sorry for making you worry.”

“I was quite relieved when I got your text, even if it was brief.”

“I just needed to get away and have some time to think, but I still should’ve at least let you know that I was okay.”

“I knew that I had hurt you and that you probably didn’t want to talk to me. I couldn’t blame you for that. I’m just glad you decided to give me another chance to explain.”

“I am too. Going to my dad’s was the best thing I could’ve done, I think. He and August were both really good listeners when I was ready to talk, and they gave me good advice. I hope you’ll get to meet them sometime, soon.”

Killian scratched the spot behind his ear, then smoothed his hair down near the back of his neck. “I’m not sure that they’ll be very happy to meet me, knowing that I upset you the way I did.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I think they realized that it was just as much my fault as it was yours. I even accused my brother of taking your side!”

He smiled. “I guess going home to be with your family was a good idea. I know having someone to talk to helps. I spoke with David and Mary Margaret when I went over to help paint this morning. Dave told me if I feel our relationship is worth pursuing, I need to fight for it. I think his exact words were ‘a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets’.”

“Wow! Who knew David could come up with something like that?” Emma grinned.

Killian laughed. “Yeah, but he made a good point. I feel like you and I were really starting to connect with each other, and I don’t want to lose that.”

“So, is that where you were off to in such a hurry when you nearly plowed me over at the door? You were coming to my house to fight for me?”

“Aye. I was going a bit crazy sitting around here waiting. I was willing to camp out on your front lawn, if necessary.”

“Now that I would like to see!” Emma giggled. Then she added soberly, “I’m glad you decided to take his advice though, Killian. August and Dad basically told me the same thing, that if I felt our relationship had potential to be something good, we would need to put effort into it to make it work. We’re going to have to be really open with each other, and work through the rough patches together. I know I’m ready to do that, I hope you are too.

“I am definitely ready, Emma. I know that we said in the beginning that we would take this slow, and I think that’s still a good idea, but I was wondering how you would feel about agreeing to date only each other.” She could tell he was a little nervous about asking.

She stood up and tugged on his hand, encouraging him to stand. Once he did, she cradled his face in her hands as she looked into his brilliantly blue eyes. “I’m good with that, Killian. I’m not interested in dating anyone else.”

His breath hitched as he heard her say those words. Just a few short months ago, he had been devastated, both physically and emotionally. Now, because of this beautiful, kind, caring woman, he was healing.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a fierce hug, burying his face in the softness of her hair. She returned the hug, spreading her hands over his back, letting all the doubts and pain from the past few days drain away.

After a minute or two, they drew back far enough to look into each other’s eyes, before moving again to press their lips together. It was tentative at first, but Killian was soon silently begging her to open for him. She did so gladly, and then their tongues were sliding together, while her hands roamed across his back, and his slid down to the top of her hips, pulling her even closer.

She deepened the kiss as she clung to him. Time simultaneously seemed to stand still and fly by, as they explored each other with their mouths and hands.

At last, Killian pulled away slightly, groaning as he broke contact with her lips. “As much as I would love to continue this,” he gasped, “I don’t think that would be the definition of taking things slowly.”

She rubbed her nose against his. “I agree, but I think you should know something.”

“What’s that, Love?”

“I REALLY like kissing you!”

“Sweetheart, trust me - the feeling is definitely mutual!”

They remained in each other’s arms, occasionally finding a patch of skin to kiss.

“Thank you for coming over tonight, Emma,” Killian whispered against her hair.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t want to see me again after the way I left,” she confessed.

He stepped back from her, gently framing her face. “I don’t think there will ever be a time when I don’t want to see you, Love.” He gave her another sweet kiss, then closed his eyes and stood with his forehead pressed to hers. He felt her fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck. It was soothing and reassuring, especially after the days that he had just spent in an emotional turmoil.

With much effort, he released her and put some space between them. He gestured toward the small refrigerator and asked, “Would you like something to drink?”

“A beer sounds great, if you have one.”

She followed him over to the kitchenette and he grabbed a bottle for each of them. After they’d twisted them open, he held his up. “Here’s to putting the past behind us, and to a fresh start.”

She smiled and tapped her bottle against his, then took a drink. As she swallowed, her eyes darted towards the desk, and she turned and set her bottle down on the counter.

“Speaking of putting the past behind us…”

She strode across the room and plucked the picture out of the trash can. Curious to know what she was doing, Killian followed her as she left the room, marched out of the building, and through the parking lot.

When she reached the dumpster, she raised the lid, then dropped the picture inside. Killian understood that she was symbolically destroying any last remnants of the relationship that had caused him so much pain, and he was grateful for it.

Emma grabbed the lid to drop it back down, but sliced the side of her hand on a jagged piece of metal. She was unconcerned as she glanced at it, and started to walk past Killian, who stopped her by reaching out to take hold of her arm.

“Give me your hand.”

“What?”

“Your hand. It’s cut. Let me help you.”

“No, no, it’s fine...”

“No, it’s not!” he said firmly, leading her back inside.

He took her into the bathroom and told her to wash the blood off while he searched for first aid supplies. When she had cleaned and dried her hand, he examined it carefully to ensure there was no glass in it, and that it wasn’t deep enough to require stitches. Satisfied it was just a superficial cut, he opened a tube of antibiotic ointment and applied it to the cut.

“Have you had a tetanus shot lately, Emma?” he asked, wrapping a length of gauze around her hand.

“Yeah, I had one a couple of years ago as part of my physical before I started working at the clinic.”

She watched him tying a knot in the gauze, using his teeth to hold one end. “Killian?” she said softly.

“Yes, Love?” he answered, tucking the loose ends away.

“You can trust me with your heart.”

He locked eyes with her from underneath his eyelashes.

“I know.”

*********

Sigh of relief, right? I hope you’re enjoying those little scenes and quotes from the show that I drop in every now and then! Thanks for reading, reblogging & commenting!

Tagging @live-in-my-reality @nikkiemms @searchingwardrobes @wyntereyez @therooksshiningknight @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @therealstartraveller776 @snowbellewells @emmythedaydreamer @heartofkillian @pirateherokillian @kymbersmith-90 @let-it-raines @resident-of-storybrooke @captainsjedi @hookedmom @ohmightydevviepuu @queen-serena88 @daxx04 @branlovestowrite @theonceoverthinker @laschatzi @coolcat08 @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic @resident-of-storybrooke @mayquita @badwolfreturns @djlbg @withheartfulloflove @squidvisious @xsajx @lyssapup27 @tohellwiththepancakes13 @annastasiarinaldiva @hollyethecurious @kday426 @ohmyjoan @oncechi @spartanguard @hookpiratejones @apromisednightcap @andiirivera @swanlovato @ouat-the-hell @adoringjen @killianswannn @imlaxdris71 @xarandomdreamx @everything-person @eeteeaytay @glennaywh @gingerchangeling @lexie27 @reylowillliveon @tumblercanbetheworst @vvbooklady1256 @teamhook @myfearless-love @ultraluckycatnd @timeless-love-story @bugheadswanjones @goblynn @csalltheway @sals86 @badcats-andmice @darthbecky726 @166hours @kissmeretard @sederiana @eherron14 @bubblegum1425 @klynn-stormz @harshini01 @kingofmyheart14 @yasbio2015 @officerrogers @captainswan-shipper88 @sh12pen-bookfan @loveliklove @singersdd @bluewildcatfanatic @lfh1226-linda @crick-11 @angellifedeath @mythologicalmango @socmono @brustudyblog @harshini01 @artistoncer @hails-paige @eleveneitherway @broadwaybabe18 @idristardis @captainswan21 @qualitycoffeethings @dreamingdreamsalways @lavenderbudd @cassy1511 @onthe-virg-ofgreatness @theadventureofhistorygirl @aceofhearts17

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flutistbyday2020 · 4 years

Text

Bury a Friend Chapter One:

Reposting my “Supernatural” AU! This story features the reader— YN— and her friend, Amanda, as they deal with the life of being a hunter. YN is in love with Dean, but we all know how Dean is. I played around with cannon when it comes to plot and ages, please don’t hate me! Lmao.

Set in season 3/4/5 so far, so consider this your spoiler warning!

Pairing— Dean x Reader (eventually)

Characters— OFC Amanda, reader, Dean, Sam, Ellen, Jo, Bobby, etc.

Word count— 2219

I will only accept 50 tags for this!

*****************************

Dean Winchester.

What. A. Man.

No, a God.

Y/N had known Dean and Sam for years. 10, almost 11 years, to be exact.

Y/N met them when she was just 15; just a teenage girl, who hadn’t even finished going through puberty yet.

When Y/N met Dean and Sam, the girl was gangly, angled, and uncoordinated. The amount of times Y/N tripped over her own feet or ran into a screen door, was too many to count. Y/N was not a graceful teenager. She had tried activities like gymnastics to help, but she broke her arm and never went back.

She was a graceful adult, though.

Between puberty, her father’s training regime, and some miracle, Y/N had stopped tripping over her own feet and started to become a true hunter.

Her father trained her mentally and physically. Y/N could handle any weapon that dropped in her hands, She could single-handedly shove stakes through hearts, and she always made sure to have the upper hand. She was smart, too. She knew her limits and never bit off more than she could chew.

She used her small stature to her advantage: she could hide most anywhere and she could wiggle out most monster’s grips.

She was adept, daft, and cunning. She also knew to keep a low profile— nobody had been able to pin her down.

She was deadly.

Y/N had met Sam and Dean through a family friend who knew John Winchester. They were all hunters; a life that Y/N had desperately tried to escape. Her Dad would drop Y/N off with Sam when he and John would go on a hunt. Dean was resentful that he had another “kid” to look after, but Sam was grateful to have another person to talk to. Sam and Y/N were close up until the day he graduated from high school. Sam left after a huge fight with his father and never looked back.

Y/N had mourned the loss of her friendship with Sam, but Dean never gave Y/N a second glance. Which wasn’t surprising— Dean was almost 10 years her senior, nine years and 364 days… Not that Y/N has counted or anything. She was just a kid to him.

Dean and John left seven years ago and Y/N hasn't heard from a Winchester since.

When Y/N started hunting, She began to track Sam and Dean. She followed their trail through newspapers. Once they had reunited with Ellen, Y/N got a phone call every time they showed.

She had long tried to forget about her feelings for Dean, but she kept an eye on the brothers to make sure their paths didn’t cross.

Until the universe decided to pull the Winchester’s back into her life.

Y/N was at the Roadhouse, nursing a whiskey, neat, when she heard a voice She thought she would never hear again.

“Y/N?” The voice boomed from across the bar.

Y/N turned to the source of the noise. A goofy smile coming across her face when she realized who was speaking to her

“Well, I’ll be!” She said to the giant man before her.

Sam had aged, but well. Under all that bulk of muscle, the kid that she knew was still there. She could see it in the kindness of his eyes. Even though the life of a hunter was cruel, he was still good.

Y/N stood to hug Sam, but he swept her up in his arms and spun around. Y/N laughed loudly but clung to him. She inhaled his cologne and all those good memories she had of spending time with the Winchester’s came back in waves of nostalgia.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N,” he said as he put her back on her feet.

“You too, Sam!” Y/N said, joyfully as she sat down. “Care to join me?”

Sammy nodded before turning to Dean.

“Dean, you remember Y/N?”

Dean glared at her. “Yeah, Cameron’s kid,” he grunted. “Dumped her with me. Gave me another mouth to feed.”

Y/N tsked her tongue at Sam before turning toward him. “Is he always such an ass?”

This earned a laugh from Sam. “Yeah,” he guffawed. “Yeah, he is.”

“Whatever,” Dean huffed. “Can I get a beer, Jo?”

They waited until Dean had skulked off to the corner of the bar before resuming conversation.

When Y/N was 15, their age gap made the world of a difference. But now that she was 25? 10 years didn’t seem all that bad. And Dean looked good for 35. Really good. Even though he was still an ass.

“So, what brings you here?” She asked Sam, turning toward him with a bright smile.

Sam shrugged. “It’s been awhile since we’ve had a case. Dean was getting restless, so I suggested we come here. It’s the closest thing we have to a home.”

“You don’t go to Bobby’s anymore?” It was an innocent question, but she could tell it set Sam on edge.

Sam’s eyes darkened for a second.

“Consider the question withdrawn,” Y/N half joked.

She knew Bobby had a heart attack and she also knew that neither Sam nor Dean had bothered to pick up a phone and call Bobby in almost a year— that’s why she was in town. She had hoped that the boys had long moved on from their relationship with Bobby.

Y/N had called Ellen for her weekly check in when Ellen had told her Bobby had a heart attack. Y/N rushed to Sioux Falls immediately.

Jo had gushed every detail about Sam and Dean to Y/N when Y/N and Amanda came to the Roadhouse three nights ago.

“How do you know about Bobby?” He asked, leaning closer to her.

It was Y/N’s turn to shrug. “You and Dean are famous in this world,” she said nonchalantly as she downed the whiskey in one swig. “Word gets around. My dad knew him, too,” I offered. “Said he was a drunk.”

The truth was, Y/N knew Bobby through her father as well. Her father and Bobby had been close for about twenty years before a hunt went very, very wrong.

Her father had almost gotten Bobby killed, and instead of owning up to it, Cameron pinned the blame on Bobby.

That fight created a rift between Cameron and Bobby that nobody could fix.

Y/N had reached out to Bobby only twice in the past seven years— once to see if he’d help her. He said he had no interest in helping Cameron’s blood, and once more just to tell him that Cameron had passed away. Even though they weren’t in contact, she still cared for Bobby. She always drove by his house when she was in town, just to make sure he was alive.

Y/N knew that if Sam and Dean found out that Bobby had been hurt, and almost killed, by her father, they would most likely turn on her. Bobby was the only family they had left, and Bobby hated Y/N.

That made Sam laugh. “That’s what they all say. But those who know him—”

“Know he’s mostly sober?”

Y/N and Sam laughed. She didn’t realize how much she had missed the younger Winchester brother. His presence was a breath of fresh air.

Jo poured another round.

“So what are you doing here?” He asked.

Y/N looked at him, debating if she should tell him the truth. “Ellen’s like a second mom to me,” she said after a moment. “She likes to think she’s checking up on me, but really, I’m checking up on her.” It wasn’t completely untrue. Ellen did like it when Y/N popped in, but only ‘cause she was a hunter and she was worried sick about Y/N.

Y/N could see the wheels turning in Sam’s mind and hoped he wouldn’t press it. Eventually, he nodded, accepting her words.

They fell into an awkward silence. They both knew that you couldn’t trust other hunters as far as you could throw. They both knew that Y/N had just lied to him for a reason.

“Y/N,” Sammy started.

She looked at him. Her heart broke when she saw the sadness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for how I left things.”

Y/N waved her hand dismissively. “That was years ago, Sam. C’est la vie.”

Y/N moved to get out of her seat, but Sam’s hand was on hers in a second. She couldn’t help but look up at him.

“I mean it, Y/N. I was so desperate to get out that I didn’t care who got caught in the crossfire. I messed up.”

Y/N could see the sincerity on his face. “Okay,” She whispered. She cleared her throat. “But I really should get going. The rowdy crowd is about to show up.” Y/N gave Sam a shit-eating grin and slapped money down on the bar.

When Y/N turned, she couldn’t help but notice Dean. Well, who Dean was chatting up, anyhow.

He was leaning against the bar, talking up her best friend, Amanda. Y/N Looked back at Sam and winked. “Watch this.”

She walked over to Dean. He either didn’t sense her presence or didn’t care. Y/N looked at Amanda, and Amanda noticed her best friend instantly.

Y/N slightly raised her eyebrows, asking Amanda a silent question. Do you want me to stop this? When one friend was being hit on by men they didn’t like, the other would come over and would ask, “Honey, are you ready to go?” Before sharing a kiss with the other to get the man to go away. Most of the time, it worked. Sometimes, the guy was a creep and wanted to “join them”. Those guys usually got a punch to the nose.

Amanda gave a slight nod, inscrutable to anyone who didn’t know the pair .

Y/N stepped in between Dean and Amanda, making herself known.

“Dean,” Y/N crooned in a voice saved for men she thought were one step above Neanderthals, “I see you’ve met Amanda.” Y/N smiled brightly, but her eyes showed a silent threat.

“Yes, I have, Sweetheart,” Dean said, with confidence dripping from him. He winked at Y/N before turning to Amanda.

It took everything Y/N and Amanda had not to laugh.

“I hate to break it to you, Dean, but you’re barking up the wrong tree,” Y/N said in a tone that indicated that he should leave.

Dean stood up straighter. He looked down at Y/N, literally and figuratively. “Is that so, sweetheart?” His voice challenged Y/N this time.

Y/N gave a small laugh. “Yes, it is Dean. You should leave before you get humiliated.”

“Ha,” he said, his signature cocky smile on his face again.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I warned you.” She wrapped her arms around Amanda’s neck and kissed her friend deeply.

Dean’s jaw dropped and Sam started laughing in the background.

Y/N pulled away from Amanda and looked at Dean. He shrunk back from the pair and sank onto a stool. He was leaning on the bar again, shell shocked from what just happened. Y/N knew he was a little turned on, too. It was in his eyes.

Y/N raised her eyebrows suggestively while leaning into Dean.

He was disarmed by the powermove and lust, so it was easy for Y/N to reach into his pocket and snag his wallet.

“I told you, Dean. Wrong tree,” She whispered seductively. Once the wallet was securely on her person, Y/N discreetly pulled out her knife.

Her lips were millimeters away from Dean’s and she could tell he wanted to kiss her.

Y/N licked her lips as one final distraction before slamming the knife into the bar top, pinning his jacket sleeve securely to the wood.

He reacted like Y/N knew he would— He tried to bounce out of his seat, but was stuck to the bar top.

By the time he had successfully removed the knife, Y/N was already halfway out the door, Amanda in tow.

“Keep the knife, sweetheart,” Y/N called as she dragged Amanda out of the door and into the night.

Sam walked up to dean. “Dude—“

“Don’t say anything,” Dean threatened as he pulled his jacket back on. He patted down his sides. “Son of a bitch!” Dean exclaimed as he patted down his front and back pockets. “She just took my wallet!”

This made Sam, Jo, and Ellen laugh.

“Shut up,” Dean hissed.

Ellen leaned across the bar. “She may have been just “Cameron’s kid”, Dean, but she’s not a baby anymore. Her daddy died five years ago, and she was hunting on her own till she found Amanda two years ago.”

Dean looked at Ellen, then at Sam. He had definitely underestimated Y/N.

Ellen could see the lust in Dean's Eyes so she clicked her tongue dismissively in response. “Don’t go messing with her, Dean Winchester. She’s had enough heartache for a lifetime.”

Dean stared at the door, hoping to see Y/N again, and not just because she had his wallet.

********

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