#long story short she brings them home to subtly ask her parents what to do with them because thered been rumors that one of them has a
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The first summer after the incident at Starcourt, things have finally had enough time to slowly ease back into normalcy.
The day after school lets out, the kids talk Steve into letting them come swim in his pool. It’s only for a couple of hours, and honestly, it does them all some good, the kids getting to pretend things are okay for a while, and Steve getting to soothe that worry that crept in every time he didn’t have an eye on all of them, so despite the guilt they all certainly felt for having fun, they let themselves enjoy it, for a little while at least.
The gimmick of what made summer fun ran out pretty quickly for them though, so once they’d all gotten sunburnt shoulders and had tangles in their hair and wrinkles on their fingers from the chlorinated water, they decided it was time to go home. They weren’t up for the arcade or ice cream after the pool like they used to be either, but they had had just under a year now to decide they were okay with that.
So Steve loads them all up into his new Mercedes-Benz, the replacement for the BMW that became necessary post battle when they discovered his car had been crushed at some point during that night by the Mind Flayer, and took them all home.
Max’s house was the last on his route no matter which way he went, the only member of the party who lived on the outskirts of the wealthy part of town now that the Byers’ had moved, so it’s just the two of them in the car. As they pull up outside though, she hesitates to get out, instead nervously picking at the stitches in the seat, mulling over something in her head.
They aren’t really close, no bond between them beyond babysitter and grumpy teenager not happy to have one, but Steve feels an obligation towards all of these kids, so he shifts in the seat so he’s facing her, and asks her in a way he hoped sounds approachable, “What’s up, Max?”
Max takes another second and a deep breath before speaking, wringing her hands nervously, “Billy’s birthday is in a few days and I don’t think anybody knows that, but I want to do something for him.”
Steve nods, doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to do at first, “Have you talked to your mom about this?”
He asks because word traveled fast in a small town like Hawkins. Everyone and their mother knew that Neil Hargrove had split before they’d even stabilized his son in the hospital, and his wife had stayed with their children, taking full responsibility for Billy and Max. If anyone should be having a party for Billy, it should be Susan.
“Yeah and she liked the idea, but she’s been really busy with work and stuff, double now with Billy’s medical bills, and I know a lot of the other parents are too and some of them I just don’t know well enough to ask, and I don’t know who else to turn to because normally I’d take this stuff to Billy and I can’t do it by myself.” Max rambles all in one breath, has clearly been thinking about this for a long time.
Steve obviously wants to encourage that, so he asks, “What did you wanna do for him?”
“I just wanted to have a party for him at the hospital, but I know that’s kinda dumb since nobody goes to see him anyways.” Max mumbles, wrapping her fingers around the door handle like she’s going to get out, “I don’t know, it’s stupid.”
“No it’s not. What day is it, his birthday?”
“The sixth. I know that’s kinda short notice but-“ Max starts again, but Steve interrupts, a small smile on his face as if to prove he’s genuine, “No, it’s fine. We’ll figure something out. We’re not going to let Billy be alone on his birthday.”
It doesn’t seem to have the effect Steve wanted though, because Max scoffs and pushes the car door open, snapping before she gets out, “You do every other day.”
Even though Max had been so short with him at first, after that, she and Steve work on a plan at the end of every day when he was driving her back home, Max slowly evolving from tense about even bringing it up to actually excited for this thing they were working on together for her brother.
Steve doesn’t really have the time or the know-how for home made anything, but he buys everything you typically would find at an under twenty one birthday party, balloons and streamers, a chocolate cake, per Max’s request, and a tub of Superman ice cream, also a suggestion from Max.
He doesn’t buy Billy a present, he figures he doesn’t have use for much for anything material in the hospital, and although he’s willing to help, he feels he still doesn’t really know Billy like that anymore.
Or maybe he does, he just doesn’t know if the friendship they had been reluctantly developing would withstand the strain the accident at Starcourt had put on it, and didn’t feel it was very appropriate just to show up with an expensive knick knack that would just rub his wealth in Billy’s face.
Instead, he gets him a card, because who doesn’t want a birthday card, and leaves a hundred dollars and a heartfelt note in it. The money is because he has it and Billy needs it more than he does, and a hundred dollars was standard for milestone birthdays, in his family at least, and since Billy was lucky to see his nineteenth come around, he figures this counted.
So on the sixth of June, they’re ready to celebrate Billy.
Steve drives the kids all to the hospital that day, surprised that even without El around right now to convince them to, they were all willing to come. He guesses they’d all seen how torn up Max was when Billy was admitted to the hospital, and now that eleven months later he still hadn’t got out, it was bound to be hard on her.
It wasn’t a surprise anymore, Max had let it slip to Billy a few days beforehand in her excitement, so they just went straight up to his room, each kid and Steve carrying something, decorations or food or presents.
At first, Billy doesn’t really seem to thrilled to see them, but Steve supposed he wouldn’t be either, it couldn’t be any fun aging in the hospital, especially surrounded by nobody but your little sisters friends.
But they still set it all up for him, tying balloons to his bed and hanging streamers above the door. Max sits with him and keeps him entertained with stories, but what makes his mood significantly improve is when a nurse interrupted them to give him another dose of his pain meds.
Once they’re all set up, it’s Lucas who points out, “We forgot the candles for the cake.”
And it’s Max who, without really thinking about it, reminds him, “We probably have some with all the decorations and stuff we bought.”
It’s Dustin who looks and finds a pack of candles that someone indeed had brought, and calls out, “Found some.”
But it’s Steve who is seemingly the only one able to remember that the birthday boy was still on oxygen after a lung transplant and didn’t think he needed to be blowing out any candles, reminding Dustin very pointedly, “Actually, Dustin, I don’t think we need any candles.
Of course he argues, because kids do, “C'mon Steve, it's a birthday cake. All birthday cakes have candles.”
“Yeah, but I said I don’t think this one needs any.” Steve says, through his teeth this time, nodding subtly towards Billy, and Dustin's eyes widen a little, and the candles get put back without another word about it.
Instead, Steve gives Billy the zippo from his pocket, flipping it open for him so a tiny flame dances in front of his face, “Make a wish, Hargrove.”
Billy takes the lighter, a little apprehensively, but he stays quiet, looking up at Steve as he presumably makes his wish to himself, then clicks it shut, extinguishing the flame.
Ever impatient, the kids decide that’s their cue to cut into the cake without really asking anybody, but Steve doesn’t stop them, because as Billy reminds Max when she sits down on his bedside with a piece, “I can’t really eat that right now, kiddo, but thank you.”
She blows him off, teasingly uncaring in that sibling way, “Oh, I know, that’s why I picked chocolate cake, ‘cause I know you don’t like it. I just wanted you to have one, so it felt like a real birthday.”
Billy smiles wide, holds his arms out the best he can anymore for a hug, “Aww, come ‘ere, shitbird.”
Max spends the rest of their little impromptu party at his bedside, talking to her friends but sitting with her brother, the both of them chasing that sense of normalcy that everyone else had been able to move on and achieve, but they had no chance at grasping so long as they were apart.
That is at least, until to keep himself busy while the kids argue about something, Billy reads his card from Steve, that long written out note that detailed all his feelings and regrets and thoughts about Billy that he had been grappling with since Billy was hospitalized, sorrys and thank yous and happy birthday, everything crammed into that card but the part about how Steve had been falling in love with Billy since they met in ‘84.
It makes Steve nervous, twitchy and vulnerable with Billy reads it, until he gently closes the card and looks up at Steve, eyes wide and a little teary.
The first thing he says is an unrelated question, ruffling his little sisters hair and asking her, “Maxi, can you go down to the vending machine at the end of the hall and grab me some stuff? I’m running out of candy to hide in the bedside drawer.”
Max nods and slides down from his bed, and Billy adds, “Take all your friends too. See if they want anything.”
He waits until all the kids are gone, their voices echoing distantly down the long hallway, to ask Steve, “D’you do all this for me, Harrington?”
Steve shrugs, not sure if he’s more humble or nervous about why Billy wanted to talk to him alone, “It was Max’s idea.”
“But you still organized it, right?”
“I guess. I don’t want a thank you or anything though.” Steve insists, but Billy smiles, a bright one like Steve hardly ever saw anymore, and insists right back “Too bad, you’re getting one. Thank you.”
Steve just shrugs again, “It’s your birthday, Hargrove. I wasn’t going to let you be forgotten.”
“I would’ve been okay, Steve. Birthdays were just… never really a thing in my family anyways.”
Steve can tell they were going to go back and forth all day, arguing over whether or not he should be celebrated, and if he needed someone by his side, if he doesnt change the subject, so he asks him, “What’d you wish for?”
“Can’t tell you that or it won’t come true.” Billy hums, thoughtful, and he says, sounding like his sister, “And it’s sort of dumb anyways.”
“Hey, I’m sure it’s not dumb. If it’s something you want, it can’t be.”
Billy looks up at him, a little smile on his face, and explains, “I don’t know it’s just, I’m going to be sick for the rest of my life, I’m stuck in the hospital for another month at least and my dad disowned me, but, my wish still wasn’t for any of that to change.”
“What was it then?”
Billy takes a deep breath, a noticeable flush to his face, “I wished that I would have the guts to finally do this.”
For a second Steve wonders what he’s talking about, worries briefly that he was going to use the distraction and the relaxed attention from the nurses on his birthday to make grand escape from the hospital or something, until Billy leans up and kisses him.
It’s chaste and it’s sweet, everything that he’d expect from anybody that wasn’t Billy Hargrove, and everything that Steve could ever have wanted. He sits down on the bed beside Billy to make the angle easier on the both of them, not breaking the kiss for even a second, bringing his hand up to cup Billy's cheek, and deepening the kiss.
They’re interrupted by the squeaking of tennis shoes on the waxy hospital floors in the hallway, the kids coming back already, so Steve pulls away, just as flushed as Billy was now and keeping one of his hands resting on top of Billy’s, “Happy birthday, Billy.”
#harringrove#billy hargrove#steve harrington#the party#ej writer#story by ej!#also posted on my ao3!#posting this less than a half hour before my birthday is over oops
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ruining the plan isn't always so bad
you can tell whenever I have really important things to be doing in my life - bcos instead I will spend hours writing for no apparent reason ah kmn ;///
tomhollandxreader - pure fluffffff
Summary: tried to base off when Dom and Sam surprised Tom shooting a couple of years back- but this time they got Y/n with them too
(I don't own the pic nor claim to ...idk how to do this crediting bit sorry :/)
The plan was in place. Tom was really struggling with homesickness on set of his newest film. No real reason why; just long hours, living out of a hotel room, half the world away from ‘home’. Harry was always flying out to join Tom as his ‘assistant’ however after a pretty heart-wrenching phone call Tom had made to Y/n, while she was hanging around with Haz and Harry at the Holland’s house... the plans had changed somewhat. He just seemed so distant and run down, when Nikki got her turn on the phone she instantly knew that they had to do something. Naturally then, putting her superior organising skills to good use she arranged for Dom, Sam and Y/n to accompany Harry to Atlanta; and surprise Tom there.
The way the last minute booking happened meant that Harry, Sam and Dom were all flying out on the same flight (though Harry was in first class, while the surprise guests were in economy). Y/n, because of her university timetable, couldn’t leave till a bit later, so was on a plane 2 hours after the Hollands - it wouldn’t make that much difference and if anything would prolong the joy of the excitement for Tom. They, meaning Harry who was oddly invested in the intracacies and details, had been brainstorming different ways to do the reveal- not sure whether to just do it in the hotel when Harry would be meeting Tom anyway, or waiting and surprising him when they were out for dinner or in a bar. Eventually they’d decided it would just be easier to have Harry, Dom and Sam just meet him at the hotel- then take him out to dinner, allowing time for Y/n’s later expected time of arrival, where she would then appear at the restaurant.
Ever since Harry had let Tom know that he’d landed (if half an hour late), Tom had been excitedly texting him back constantly. The pair had agreed that Tom would simply meet him in Harrys hotel room when he got back from set. Yet when the time came, Sam and Dom were hiding just further down the corridor- waiting in the corridor. From their hideaway a couple of metres down the way from Tom and Harry, the obvious exctiement they could hear when Tom arrived and the two reunited warmed Dom’s heart. He just loved his sons all being so close- it was perhaps what he was most proud of as a parent. Especially after witnessing both Harrison and Y/n loose a parent, he knew if god forbid anything happened to him and Nikki - they had each others backs completely. Sam was excitedly shifting from foot to foot hearing his brothers - Dom just subtly shook his head at the endearing nervous energy, clearly Sam was impatient for his turn. The idea was Sam would knock first then Dom, so after allowing a short time of just Tom and Harry reuniting, Sam pranced down the hallway and knocked. Yet it wasn’t Tom who flung the door open to Sam as per the scheme, instead his fuzzy haired twin.
“Harry what the fuck” Sam mouthed, daring to glance over his shoulder to attempt to spot Tom - annoyed at his brother for getting in the way.
“He’s on the shitter, change of plan bring Dad in.” Harry whisper-explained, making Sam roll his eyes at Tom unintentionally ruining his own surprise, before retreating to the hallway and beckoning his dad in. Dom pulled an equally bemused face until Harry filled him and he chuckled - earning him a harsh shush from both boys as they sat on the bed, facing the toilet door.
“So why did it take you so long to get here?” Tom asked through the thin loo wall, while Harry pushed his dad to sit further over on the bed.
“Oh ermm….they had some mix up with the luggage so we” Immediately getting slapped on the leg by his twin with a piercing glare, Harry corrected himself “I mean -I had to wait for like an hour and a half to get my suitcase. Then I think I had the worst taxi driver in the world like down country roads and all.”
“Yeh like that drive should take like 40 minutes I thought? But when you texted me saying just left” He paused as the sound of the toilet flushing and the sink turning on flooded through the room ”that must’ve been at least an hour ago”
“I guess” Harry replied, hearing the tap turn off while Sam ran his fingers through his hair yet again - an excited or nervous tick.
“So how is everyone? I tried to call Dad and Y/n today but-“ The door opened, the stream of light flooding into the main room. Tom stopped dead in his tracks, voice cutting off but mouth hanging agape, still clutching onto the doorhandle.
“Hello son”
Dom spoke softly as he stood up from his choreographed position on the bed. Only at his words did Tom believe this was actually reality and literally sunk to his knees at the boundary between the ensuite and bedroom. He was awash with pure emotion, mainly relief - this was the exact thing he really needed right now. His dad soon pulled him up and hugged him, Sam following close behind. Tom’s reaction was priceless, the few tears being more than enough of a tell to his family how much he had needed this.
It was an emotional reunion, there was a hell of a lot of hugs and suddenly the 14 hour journey was so worth it to Dom and Sam. Afterwards, they just all sat together on the bed and caught up on each others lives, Tom not really wanting to speak about himself - much preferring to hear all their stories from home about his mum and grandparents and the family that live down the road. He loved the normalcy of it.
That was until a voice grabbed the attention of the whole room and Harry inwardly and silently cursed himself - in all the excitement he’d left his phone on silent in his jacket pocket, which was hanging on the coat rack so he hadn’t even heard it vibrate.
“Harry pick up your phone!” An exasperated voice exclaiming from the hallway half caught the Hollands’ attention, their heads all spinning in unison to the wooden hotel room door. It started to jerk open as Y/n wrestled with her suitcase ”You’ve left your hotel room open you div.Anyway I’m just dropping my case in your room so please text me where to go because - ugh- because right now you could all be anywhere in Atlanta and I-”
The conversation within the room had died- all of them watching the petite brunette fight her way past the door with a silver suitcase that seemed ridiculously large and heavy for a weeks holiday. She had pressed her phone to her ear using her right shoulder and was wearing beige tracksuits a white crop top and a black leather jacket - as she grunted in frustration at the case, yanking it unceremoniously over the threshold. Subtly, Sam looked up at Tom, seeing his brothers eyes widen in shock, whole body turned completely rigid and Sam had to smile smugly - it was actually quite cute, even if he would never admit it to their faces. Y/n only stopped speaking into the receiver when her eyes finally darted into the room - noticing she had an audience.
“Oh.”
She stopped herself, pressing the end call button and pocketing her phone, whilst moving into the centre of the room. She shot an apologetic smile to Harry, knowing she’d technically ‘ruined’ his plan - though to be fair it wasn’t her fault he didn’t answer the phone; or that his flight had been delayed meaning he didn’t get Tom to the resturaunt at the agreed time. Actually she could blame it all on Harry. He just rolled his eyes back at her whilst she looked past him and onto the shellshocked face of her boyfriend.
Not being able to hide her grin, she halted at the foot of the bed, meanwhile Tom leant forward from the headboard - his eyes not leaving her. “You gonna say hi or am I just gonna stand here?” Y/n smirked, Tom still not moving from his shellshocked stance. Slowly her smirk morphed to a concerned look, eyebrows drawn inwards, as her look darted between Dom and Tom.
“Tom are you okay?” she tried speaking gently, but before she could push anymore he launched himself off the sofa and into her arms, Y/n barely staying upright. Then Tom started spinning her round and round all the while squeezing her as tightly as possible. Y/n squealed an ‘I love you’ into his ear , already knowing Tom wasn’t ready to talk yet- instead just pressing his face closer into her neck. After a short while Tom lowered her to the ground and pulled away enough for Y/n to see the smudged tears around his eyes. She cupped his cheeks in her hands and looked deep into his mahogany brown eyes.
“Are you okay?”
“I am now” he nodded jerkily, all the while inching his lips closer to hers. Both consciously aware of half the Hollands just viewing them, their kiss was fleeting and light - but made Tom’s heart want to burst.
“God I’ve missed your stupid face” She laughed, now her eyes filled with tears too. He let out a breathy chuckle in reply and used his thumb to wipe away a single droplet that escaped her eye.
“Missed yours more” her smile lit up the entirety of her face, such a natural glow across her face Tom shook his head slightly marvelling at her.
“Ohhkkkayyy well I don’t really want to witness the making of nieces and nephews”
“Harry” Dom warned in a disapproving tone, even if he did have to fight back the laughter. To be quite honest he’d really enjoyed seeing his son and almost adopted daughter reunite. Both him and Nikki absolutely loved their relationship, they just went together oh so well, whilst slightly reminding them both of their younger carefree days. Harry rolled his eyes at his dad before continuing.
“But shall we get dinner and then you can be alone all night” His eyebrows wiggled in such a manner Y/n swore she felt a little nauseous witnessing it.
“Harry stop!” Sam interjected, elbowing Harry harshly in the side, earning him a playful slap in return.
“Someone remind me why I’m paying the wrong twin to be my assistant?” Tom still hadn’t looked away from Y/n as he quipped a response at Harry, while Y/n was gently stroking up and down his cheeks with such a soft look in her eyes.
“Because I rejected it” Sam smirked, making Harry yell out in anguish-
“I was second choice?!?!”
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“Honestly just go play golf with your them! I have to do uni work anyway and-“
“But I don’t want to leave you! You’ve flown here too and I missed you.” Tom moaned, pressing a kiss into her hair from her position lying on his shoulder. Having slept uninterrupted for the first time in ages, Tom wasn’t even sure he wanted to venture away from Y/n and the bed at any point that day- even if it was for golf.
“Your dad and Sam are only staying for the weekend so make the most of it! Me and my uni work are happy here-“ Tom’s eyes once again bugged out his face, as he caught on to her slip up.
“How long are you staying?” Shit. That was another thing she’d spoiled - getting a reputation to be as bad as Tom. Harry was for sure going to kill her.
“Oh fuck sake… that was my second surprise ruined… I’ve booked a week and a half off from uni so I can look after my little baby boy”
“Y/n don’t joke with me please.” Tom sat up, forcing Y/n to too which she huffed a little at, disrupting her comfort. It had her sitting up straight so she could look him in the eye and resting her hand on his exposed abdomen, asserting her authority on him.
“I promise! My flights home next tuesday, but I’m missing uni so I have to be boring and keep up so it’s not a real holiday but-“
“I love you”
Tom smiled for Y/n could never not surprise him. University was so important to her - she was really dedicating her life to it, especially financially. So her managing to put it on hold to look after him in a time of need was testament to just how kind and caring she truly was.
“But you need to promise to look after yourself Tom. I haven’t seen bags under your eyes quite as impressive as this before. Think of your poor make up artists!” And she was back to being her usual sarky self.
“I feel like I should be offended?”
“Or you can learn. Now go get showered before they leave without you.” Finally ralling off his side, then pushing him forcefully so he half rolled off the side of the bed.
“Only if you shower with me.” The biggest smirk on his face, eyes wide and gleaming with mischief - which Y/n wanted to punch off so badly. On the other hand though, his idea didn’t sound half bad- letting him drag her up too.
5 or so hours later, Y/n had written her assignment due in for next week and had submitted it online- making her feel pretty darn put together. She knew the boys had got back from the golf, and from the WhatsApp group Tom wasn’t very happy about his performance, so he was going to be moody. After closing her laptop triumphantly she chucked it in her bag and grabbed the spare key card and roamed the corridors of the hotel to find Sam and Dom’s room - where they all where. Tom had messaged her to let her know they were filming Dom’s podcast, so she had to be stealthy in her entrance - since to the public they were still just good friends. The secret still wasn’t ‘out’ so to speak.
They’d left the door on the latch, allowing Y/n carefully pushing it open without making any noise. Immediately the golf-related bickering met her ears, while she peeked her head round the corner of the door. The four had set up armchairs by the window, with the camera balanced on top of a table and a stack of suitcases - in order for Harry to get the ‘perfect’ shot. Silently chuckling at the precarious arrangement, Y/n slid in through the door, turning round to gently close it shut again without noise.
As soon as Tom had seen the door opening he had jumped out of his chair, walking up to Y/n and wrapping his arms round her- pulling her back into his chest off camera. Whispering a silently ‘I love you’ he grinned at the girl who was now arching to look into his eyes. She mirrored his sentiments, placing a bottle of water in his hand while pushing him back into frame.
In reality, the whole of this podcast Tom had been attempting to summon energy in his body that was just not present. Don’t be mistaken, he had thoroughly enjoyed the time with his dad and brothers- but simply he only had today and tomorrow off filming for another 2 weeks, and the plan had been to stay as close to his bed as possible before the surprise happened. In all honestly, he caught his eyes drooping numerous times while they were filming the podcast- feeling safe in the surrounding of his family, the exhaustion was finally catching up to him.
Y/n spent the rest of their podcast hidden behind the camera, doing some extra research on Sam’s double bed - yet sometimes having to stifle a chuckle at the boys filming. It was perhaps another 25/ 30 minutes before they finished, during which there was a hell of a lot of spoilers that they only realised too late could not be included. She really really did try to focus on her work, yet instead she found her eyes being drawn to her boyfriend. He still looked shattered. All she really wanted to do was wrap him in a thick duvet and cuddle into his side. She even promised herself to only find his occasional snores endearing tonight, which was something she often struggled with normally.
So when the camera was clicked off, Y/n spent a short amount of time chatting with all the Hollands, before suggesting they went to their own respective rooms before dinner. Unconsciously, when Y/n had suggested it, out of pure relief, Tom leaned almost all his weight against her side - anchored by the strong clasp on her hand. Of course, Y/n noticed and practically pulled Tom down the hallway without saying a word. Only when she let go of the door of their room, allowing it to close with a small slam, did she speak her mind.
“You shower, I’m getting room service then movies in bed… no arguments Holland.” He stared at her ,mouth agape, a little taken aback by her assertiveness, typically the opposite of Y/n.
“I feel like you’ve just been inside all day, let me-“
“Nope. Nope. My holiday this is what I want… now shoo” She smirked, pushing him toward the ensuite door. Tom knew he did not have a choice in the matter, and even if he could possibly have some sort of influence- he was way too tired to argue.
Barely 15 minutes later, the two were wrapped cosily in the crisp white bedsheets, Tom with a small glass of a negroni cocktail and Y/n with her lime soda. Both were semi-reclined in a mound of pillows, yet Tom felt the need to also lean on her chest slightly. The familiarity of Y/n’s favourite movie ‘sunshine on leith’ playing on the screen, meant that within the first 10 minutes Tom was no longer alert. The smell of her perfume and the warmth of the duvet lulled him into a much needed slumber, making Y/n have to save the half-drunk negroni from spilling across the bedsheets as his grip relaxed. She just nestled in to the pillows further, a satisfied small grin dancing on her lips as she looked ahead at the TV, reducing the volume a little.
“Tom?…..Y/n?… Is anyone home?” A familiar voice sucked Y/n out from the next film ‘the greatest showman’, making her jump a little. Recognising it to be Dom instantly, Y/n had a mini argument in her head - whether to risk disturbing Tom by wriggling out from under him; or to call out instead, granting Dom independent entrance to the hotel room. It was possibly a bit of a weird position for her unofficial father-in-law to see his son and his girlfriend in, but she cared more right now about Tom resting than Dom’s opinions.
“Dom…. come in… it’s open I think.” Desperately trying to get the volume right - enough so Dom could hear, but not so much as to wake Tom she called out, craning her neck toward the door. Luckily almost immediately Dom let himself in, and quizzically walked in seeing Y/n in bed.
“Sorry… it’s just I didn’t want to disturb him” Nodding in understanding, Dom inspected the state of his grown up, yet childlike son, asleep on her shoulder.
“No no… he needs it. He always works himself raw for jobs but this…”
“It’s impressive even for him.” Y/n agreed, Dom noticing her unconscious stroking of his sons arm, soothing Tom as he slept.
“Well me and the boys were trying to phone you both because we are going for dinner-“
“Ah sorry my phones in my bag”
“No no it’s fine… just it looks like Tom could do with an extra hour or so.” Dom motioned again to the slumbering figure with his trademark small grin, finding the whole situation entirely heartwarming.
“I was planning on waking him up so we could all go to the pub this evening… but yeh skipping the dinner might be a plan. I know it’s your last night and all but-“
“-Don’t apologise Y/n. I’m glad you’re looking after the kid.” Y/n just smiled slightly, a small blush glowing from her cheeks. “I’ll um….leave you in peace… so maybe 9 o’clock? That gives you both 3 and a bit hours.”
“Sounds good!”Still speaking softly, Y/n freed one of her hands from the duvet and gave Dom a little wave as he exited the room giving a nod to her as the door closed.
It was a sign of the times. Dom used to be Tom’s go to whenever he was tires, frazzled or fed up. But now he had been superseded by a far superior option. A kind, beautiful, intellectual choice - that Dom would graciously accept defeat to.
He was awfully glad Tom had Y/n in his corner. And he was awfully glad he had found a surrogate daughter in Y/n too.
#tom holland fluff#tom holland x reader#tom holland#tomholland#Harry Holland#fluff#Tom Holland tired#Tom Holland angst
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It’s a Pogue Thing - Part Two
This is a JJ Maybank story :)
Requested
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Warnings!: swearing and it gets sexual (SMUT)
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“That’s disgusting,” Ki grunts as we watch JJ spit into an impressively far distance. Today we sailed to a small piece of island in the middle of the ocean. Between the blue sky, and the slightly green water it’s quite beautiful. Not a cloud in sight either, which is a somewhat odd thing for the Outer Banks. Some would call it peaceful, except we seem to hang around with complete animals. The JJ smirk spreads across his face. “You know you love it,” he winks. With a laugh, I sigh. “That’s even worse.”
You’d think it was awkward. I mean, how can you go from being friends, to sleeping together, back to normal again? I don’t know. Over the past week it’s been indifferent. Sure, it was a bit weird the first day. Maybe even the second. I’m still in shock that it happened. Once we cleaned up my house after the party, the ice was pretty much broken. We know where we stand with each other.
“Are you seeing Sarah today?” I ask John B. I notice Kiara roll her eyes so I flash her an ‘I’m sorry for bringing it up’ look. He clears his throat. “No... why would I be seeing Sarah today?” His tone comes off slightly defensive. I imagine it’s because Ki’s here, and he once had a thing for her? Maybe he still does. “I don’t know. Was she any help at the party?” We haven’t spoken much about the party; any of us. I, for one, am a bit relieved. “A little, but Topper started following us around,” of course. I’m not sure if she has him on a leash, or the other way around. “Still a good party though,” he nudged. If he thinks that’ll get me to throw another one, he can think again. “Thank JJ, I didn’t even wanna be there,” I laugh jokingly. “You can definitely thank me, you seemed like you had a good time in the end,” his words send shivers down my spine. I’m thankful for the concealer on my face as I feel my cheeks redden at his husky voice. “I don’t know, maybe it was the alcohol,” my head turns to his. “Maybe.”
We sail straight back to John B’s house. “You guy’s can crash here if you’d like,” he shrugs. With his dad gone, it’s a pretty empty house. I know we all fantasise about a parent-free life sometimes, but I can’t actually imagine the feeling of someone never coming home. “I’ve actually gotta go. My mum’s cooking dinner tonight... you guys hungry?” I ask. John B sends a warm smile my way. “Thanks, but I got left over pizza inside.” “Nice,” I laugh. I shift my eyes over to Kiara. “I think I’ll stay and help John B tidy up a bit.” If you visualise a teenage boy’s room, his entire house looks like that 24/7. Beer bottles, left over takeaway boxes, smelly ass clothing thrown around. “Suit yourselves.” I lock eyes with Pope, and I already know the answer. “You know my dad’ll kill me if I don’t get my ass home and check in.” A smile spreads across JJ’s face. “I’m not stupid enough to turn down mama Y/L/N’s cooking,” he chuckles.
As soon as we walk through my front door, my mum is all over JJ. She loves him. Usually the parents despise the boys like him. He’s the bad boy! But no. She still sees him as this cute, cheeky boy. “Mama Y/L/N! Long time no see,” JJ exclaims with a cute smile on his face, bringing my mum in for a hug. She squeezes him back in a tight embrace. “It’s been too long, how are you?!”
The conversation flows smoothly throughout dinner. It’s actually nice, not that I’d ever tell my mum that. She needs to think I’m embarrassed, when in reality I love that it’s so chill. “Did you guys enjoy the party the other night?” My mum asks as if it hasn’t been playing on her mind throughout the entirety of dinner. She’s asked me, but I won’t tell her anything. So, of course she asks JJ; he will answer. “Oh it was great! Y/N and I had a great time!” He smiles greatly. In a quick moment that my mum isn’t looking his way, he winks subtly at me. “Really? She hasn’t said much about it.” This is one of those moments where you wish you could send a telepathic message to someone. It would scream ‘stop before it’s too late’! “It’s probably because Rafe turned up.” There it is. I immediately just want to shrivel up and crawl away. My mum’s eyes widen. “Shit, I hate that guy.” JJ sends an agreeing nod. At least we’re all on the same page here. Like with other things, I’ve kept Rafe as much to myself as I possibly can from my mum. She knows he was nasty, but not in much detail. She knows he hurt me, but not in any specific way. In a very vague way, she knows everything she needs to. Just to hate him. “He’s a dick.” “This is why I like you JJ,” my mum pauses. Her face as she processes her possible next words. I raise my eyes brows in a warning manner.
After dinner, JJ offered to help my mum clean up. You may think it’s cute, but I know this boy’s games. He can’t fool me. “Are you staying to watch a movie JJ?” She asks, passing the boy a plate to dry. Before he can answer, I interrupt. “Can you give us a second actually, please?” I smile innocently towards her. Her eyes widen and she wiggles her eyebrows at me. “Sure.”
“What are you playing at?” I giggle. Recently, although I hate to admit it, JJ’s company has honestly been what I’m craving. Somehow a he’s so predictable, yet he surprises me every time. “I’m not doing anything Y/N, you’re reading into things.” He dries his last plate and puts the pile into a cupboard. Of course he knows exactly where they go. “You’re not staying for the movie,” I warn him. Even with my mum there, I don’t trust him. I don’t even trust myself. “What are you watching?” He asks. “I don’t know. I think my mum was on about watching ‘Now You See Me’ or something.” His face lights up. “Come on Y/N! I love that one.” I shake my head. I don’t want to want him here. “Please,” he sticks his bottom lip out. Because of my lack of reaction, he brings his head closer. He was so close that I could feel his breath on my face. A feeling that took me straight back to the party. A moment that I am trying so hard to not think about.
Unfortunately JJ has something about him. He’s painfully hard to say no to a lot of the time. So, here he is, helping bring down some blankets from upstairs. Despite the fact that our friendship should be ruined at this point. I’m starting to think that this may just be an exception. Why should it ruin everything? It was nothing. Before going back downstairs, I change into an oversized hoodie and some shorts.
My mum makes popcorn whilst we get things set up. Some soft blankets and even comfier pillows are arranged on the couch. I sit myself in the middle, with JJ on my right and my mum on my left. A part of me wanted to have my mum split us up, but that would’ve just looked strange. My eyes light up when I catch a glimpse of the popcorn bowl. “Let’s get started then.”
As the movie starts, I begin to get more excited. “I’m excited,” I smile massively. The more I think about it, the more hyped up I get. “I didn’t know this was your sort of thing,” JJ mutters with a smirk. Of course it’s a great movie, but that’s not what it is. “I watch it for the plot,” I smirk back. The plot being Dave Franco and Jesse Eisenberg. I express my love for the two beauties, only for JJ to simply state “I am so much better looking than them.” I snort at his words. “Whatever.”
20 or so minutes go by. My mum has already started nodding off, and I am beginning to get myself comfy. Without thinking, I nudge myself a bit closer to JJ. I didn’t even have to look at him to notice the growing smirk. The best thing, I thought, was to pretend I didn’t notice what I was doing. I bring my feet up, and lean them against his leg. A small noise exits JJ’s mouth, which sounded like a small chuckle. “Sorry I-” I start. My words pause at the touch of JJ’s fingertips. Even before they touched my bare thigh, I could feel their presence. “JJ,” instead of being a warning, my voice let’s put a wobbled whisper. “It’s fine,” he presses his lips together in a smile. I couldn’t tell his to move his hand away. I didn’t want him to. So I let him sandwich his hand between my thighs.
His hand, large and warm, sat nicely. It felt like an average thing. Every now and then he gently squeezed against my bare skin. Whirlpools. That’s the only way I can describe the way my stomach flipped. I thought, stupidly, that with my mum inches away it would turn everything off. Of course, that is not the case. JJ tries to be slick as he moves his hand further up my thigh. The first time, I do nothing. I’m not sure what to do. But the second, I cup my hand over his. Just as I’m about to tell him off in a whisper, my mum yawns. My heart jumps. “Shit guys, I should probably go to bed,” she stands and stretches. I try and make it look like JJ and I aren’t sitting so close. “You can stay over though JJ, finish the movie.”
My mum wanders out the room. We’re silent as we hear her footsteps all the way upstairs. Until her bedroom door shuts. “You’re not sleeping over,” I try not to smile as I say those words. The truth is, these little flirting games, send rushes through my body. Just like shockwaves. Now we’ve acted on it and I’m not sure how to resist my current urges. “Sure,” and he slides his hand up a bit higher. I grunt, accidentally making it sound slightly like a moan. Oops. That’s embarrassing. “I- uh- we-,” There’s no getting out of this one. I have no choice but to stop myself from uttering another word. I cannot even find the words to sort into a fully functioning sentence. The tension in the air was thick. So thick you would struggle to cut it with any knife; it would simply be too blunt. There were seconds of silence that just dragged on too long. As the tips of his fingers on his right hand trace along my jaw, guiding my head to turn to face him, I find myself lusting for him. “Give in to me Y/N.” Some things are just too hard to resist. Especially when it’s purely sexual. It’s as if my silence screamed for him to continue. Maybe it was radiating through my body. Even if I did speak, I couldn’t hear myself. The only noise was the dangerously loud thumping of my heart as his fingers continued on the trail. My heat was throbbing. He isn’t even doing anything. At this point, probably doesn’t need to. Am I wrong if I just let him? It feels that if I give in, I’m not only betraying the other Pogues, but maybe even myself. This was the deal. Then again, a promise that I made years ago. I was younger then. I’ve changed since then. I don’t care about that shit anymore.
That’s it. I start leaning in. To feel my lips against his, and finally give in to him. Then...
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He grunts, rolling his eyes back into his head as his phone goes off. Facetime. My body leans back in a mix of defeat and relief. I rub my eyes and my face, and hear the sound of JJ answering. “What’s up?” I pretend to shuffle up to JJ, although our legs were still touching anyway. “You’re interrupting-” “The movie,” I rush, feeling the need to cut JJ’s sentence off. “So you don’t wanna come over?” Ki erupts from the background. With a piece of pizza in each of their hands, I realize I do. Being with them, and their cock-blocking asses sounds perfect. A glace comes from the boy next to me. His eyes screamed no. Every part of my body agreed with him. My brain, however, disagreed. “Sure.” His eyes widen. Another eye roll. “We’ll be there in 30.” And he hangs up.
“Why do we need 30 minutes?” I laugh, standing up and gently folding the blanket poorly. I turn down the tv before turning it off. Like a child, I notice JJ with a rather grumpy look on his face. “Come on, you’re not that upset are you?” I ask, trying to hold in my laughter. “I’m pretty pissed Y/N I’m not gonna lie,” he says with a half smile creeping. “We still have time... 30 minutes to be exact...” His hand reaches over to my arm. His soft fingertips slide from my elbow, down to my hand. With that comes a pull. I land perfectly on his lap. A leg either side of his. I try and contain my thoughts. I cannot control my hands as they sit on his face. It’s hard to keep my head straight when JJ’s hands run up and down my thighs. All I can think about is the thin clothing between our crotches. So little, yet way too much. I close my eyes for a second. Just to absorb the sensation. Then it’s time for reality. “Not now.” I whisper. A heavy breath leaves him. “Fine, but you owe me.” As much as I’d love to deny it, it’s promise I’m more than willing to keep. I pull my head away from his, presenting my pinky finger to him. A smile, isn’t cute to me at all, gleams; it radiates. So much so that its contagious. Our pinky’s lock. “Yeah?” The blend of his smile and tone screams extreme excitement. “Cross my heart Maybank.”
John B’s house was now clean. I don’t think I’ve seen for the floor for months. Although I don’t blame him for the way he’s lived for the past few months, It was beginning to get a bit much. He very persistent. I know he’s still waiting for his father to come home. That being said, Kiara clearly was the one who cleaned. “Wow, the shitty smell has faded,” I hit JJ as those words fall from his mouth. That boy has zero filter. “It looks great, I’d love to know how much you helped though Johnny,” I assure him with a smirk, nudging John B on the shoulder.
“So, what are we doing?” I ask. As soon as the words left my mouth, I realised that I probably didn’t want to know. John B says nothing, just simply forced a smile. Jesus Christ. Instead I look at Kiara. “He said Sarah’s information gave a lead. He wants us to follow it.” I look down at my outfit. I still have my fucking nightwear on. I should’ve known. I’m the stupid one here. Damn. I actually thought we would maybe just sleep for once.
With John B in the drivers seat and Kiara in the passenger, it left Pope, JJ and I in the back. I found myself staring at the stars flying past as we drove. The Outer Banks is a totally different place at night. It’s beautiful. It’s also scarier and creepier, but we cross those bridges when we get to them. “Hey,” JJ nudges me gently with a whisper. “You alright?” I nod slowly. I wouldn’t say this to John B, but honestly it’s worrying. This whole thing has become an obsession. I know it’s his dad, and I know he misses him like crazy, but is there really a chance he’s alive? And why has this whole thing been so mysterious and chaotic? “What’s up with you two?” It’s only when I hear Pope’s voice that I remember that we’re back as a group right now. “Are you feeling left out?” Is JJ’s response. I try and keep my smile contained. He just has this tone, and facial expression, where you can’t take him seriously. “I didn’t know you felt that wa-”
“What the fuck John B?” Kiara snaps in an angry mumble. Before the van even stops Ki opens the door and hops out. We haven’t been driving for long, so we can’t be far. Kiara, with an extremely miserable face, hops into the back with the rest of us. I go to ask, but I see Sarah Cameron climb into the front passenger seat. What is this boy playing at? “Oh shit,” I whisper in JJ’s direction. A slight chuckle comes out, purely amazed at the balls on this boy. “Hi guy’s!” Sarah smiles enthusiastically. I feel somewhat obligated to respond. As I’ve mentioned previously, I’ve never had a massive problem with her. “Hey Sarah.” I feel bad for both sides. John B shouldn’t put Kiara into these situations as he knows she doesn’t like her. Then again, I think Ki needs to not be so rude sometimes. Right now, that’s not going to happen. Might as well just enjoy the awkward car journey.
Sarah and John B giggle away in the front as if they have been life long friends. The rest of us, not including Kiara, sent awkward eyes each other’s ways. Ki sulked silently. So I go back to staring outside. It’s hard not to imagine what it would be like to be free. The Outer Banks area is all I know. My family may ‘have money’, but our trips have always been within an hour’s drive. There’s a world beyond this. There is so much more to see and explore. Maybe that’s why we’re all so hung up on these mini impossible adventures. We’re craving something more.
John B’s plan, he said, was simple. A clue has led us to an area of green. “There has to be something here. We’re close. I can feel it,” his words sound hopeful, despite the wobbly tone to his voice. “Can’t we do this in the morning? We’re not going to find anything in the pitch black,” Pope was right. But John’s desperate. I would be too. “We’ll just have a quick look around,” he promises. He wanders to the back of the van, and takes out some torches. “I think we should split up into three pairs,” when Sarah speaks, I can automatically feel the rage coming off of Kiara. With an excessive eye roll, she might as well have just said something. Everyone else must’ve seen it, but it get’s ignored. Probably best not to fight in the darkness, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees. I send a quick smile Sarah’s way. “Okay. So... I’ll go with Sarah. You and JJ, and Kiara and Pope.”
“Don’t look so smug,” I warn the smirking JJ as we separate from the others in our direction. It’s pretty typical for us to be paired, but we also do make the best team. With a torch, I look around as if I know what I’m looking for. “This is going to be impossible,” I grunt already in defeat. I really want to help John B, but I don’t even think he’s helping himself at this point. How long is this going to go on for? “Do you think he’s alive?” JJ asks in a whisper. It’s a question, I think, we’ve all been too afraid to ask. John’s answer is simple. We wouldn’t be searching for clues in the middle of the night if he didn’t. I hesitate. As I shake my head, my heart breaks a little. I wish I did. It would make things a little easier. “Me neither.”
Although being surrounded by trees at night is usually the scene of a horror movie, it’s rather beautiful. Scary, but beautiful. Around 15 minutes has passed since we split from the others and no one has found anything; I assume anyway. There is zero service on our phones, so really we have no idea, but my gut is telling me that there’s nothing to find. “I spy with my little eye, something beginning with G,” I smile. For about 5 minutes, we’ve been playing I-Spy. Perhaps at the hope of us ‘spying’ something we usually wouldn’t spot. Unfortunately, that has not been the case. I’ve been the one annoyingly asking, and he’s just been playing along to humor me. “I swear to god Y/N if it’s grass...” He warns. Like I said, we’ve seen nothing but the wilderness. “My turn.”
As someone who pretty much refused to play, I was interested to see what better he could do. There’s nothing to see. “I spy something beginning Y.” Okay. I immediately start looking around, into the darkness. This is only I-Spy, but I need to win. JJ is one cocky mother fucker. I turn to him and frown. “Y? You know you have to actually be able to see this thing right?” I finish my sentence. Two hands go to my waist, guiding me backwards. “It was “You up against a tree, naked.” And I was. Well, I was pressed against the tree. My heartbeat went from a normal pace, to almost having a sudden heart attack in seconds. I open my mouth to speak, but no words seem to come. What is wrong with me? “I make you speechless,” he leans down to my ear and whispers. I still say nothing. As I finally feel words ready to be released, I get interrupted. And no, not by JJ.
We walk back to the van in silence. Trying to hold everything in, I restrain my need to smile and let out a giggle. I’m thankful to see the others. “How did the searching go?” John B asks as we finally become a group again. “We didn’t find anything,” A big part of me wished we would’ve found something. Not that me and JJ were properly looking, but it would’ve been nice to come back with some hope. “I’m sorry guys. We should’ve waited until the morning to look around,” Unsure if anyone else saw what I did, I glance around. Sarah - only for a second - nudged her hand against him. I can’t help but find it cute.
Once we dropped Sarah and Pope home, we all went back to John B’s as planned. “You two can take the bed,” he, the gentleman he is, gestures towards the bedroom. John B’s dad’s room is locked. “I don’t mind sleeping-” “Just take the bed,” his voice, which was quite assertive, was joined by a smile. Without even thinking, I wrap my arms around John. “We will find something,” I assure him. He need to believe it, whether I do or not. I kiss him on the cheek. “I love you John.” In true JJ fashion, he joins in on the hug. “Wow I love you guy’s too.” “Hey! I wanna join,” I chuckle as Kiara swerves herself into the huddle. “Okay, that’s enough!”
So I lay there; just staring at the ceiling. Kiara is already asleep. I’m jealous. I’ve tried. It’s hard to sleep with all these thoughts going through my head. There’s too much going on.
‘Are you awake?’ I text JJ. Within seconds I get a reply.
‘Do you need some company ;)’ I roll my eyes, more at the fact that he knows I do.
‘You gotta get your mind out the gutter ;)’
My stomach turns at the response. I read it over and over, just to get it to stick. The picture those words paint in my head should be illegal. Words like that should be a crime. I’ll just read it once more.
‘I’d rather have my head between your legs’.
How does he expect me to sleep after that? I try and keep my eyes closed, but the only way they do is if I squeeze them shut. I hear quiet footsteps. When I let my eyes go, I see JJ tip-toeing into the bedroom. My body sits itself up. “What are you doing?” I ask with haste. His face becomes clearer as he gets closer. “Didn’t you get my text?” He smirks, making my stomach flip just like a gymnast on a trampoline. I refuse stay speechless like earlier. He does not have this affect on me or my body. “Yeah but-” “It’ll help you sleep,” He shrugs, lifting the blanket slightly. “JJ.” I whisper, stopping as soon as an index finger starts trailing up my leg. I want to resist. I’m sure I can. It would be so much easier if I actually wanted to. He gets closer to the top of my thigh. I start asking myself, what if I just let it happen? Just one more time? It can’t hurt. “Y/N.” I was so caught up in my thoughts, I didn’t notice how close JJ’s head was to mine. When our eyes locked, I knew; I knew there was only one way this was going to go.
I pull his lips down onto mine. I hate admit it, but the main thing that came to mind was ‘finally’. JJ doesn’t hesitate to start lining kisses from my lips down to my neck. Forgetting where I am, more importantly forgetting the fact that Kiara was inches away, I let out a slight moan. I immediately cover my lips. He lets out a deep but quiet laugh. “Shit,” I feel my cheeks begin to redden, and I’m instantly thankful for it being dark. “I have that affect on people,” shaking my head, I push him gently. “Yeah yeah.”
I hardly realized at first, but I was pushing his head lower. If I’m being honest, I was getting desperate now. I need him. Now. The tips of his fingers hook around the outsides of my shorts, smoothly down my thighs in the process. He didn’t hesitate removing my underwear quickly after, placing it next to the bed on the floor.
A soft kiss gets placed on the inside of my thigh. I was already wet. Possibly the worst thing would be for him to know that he now has this hold over my body. A temporary hold. It won’t last. Another kiss, closer to my heat now. I wished to shout at him. He’s a teasing asshole. One more, the last one, gently exactly where I desired him. “Fuck,” he whispers, so attractively. His hand grips both of my thighs, pulling me closer to him. He attaches his lips to my throbbing heat. A deep breath exits my mouth. My hand goes straight to his hair, scrunching my fingers and pulling. Every fiber of my being wanted to moan. The pleasure shooting through my body was immense. As his tongue swirls with skill, he sends my body into a growing frenzy. Perhaps it’s the build up. Whatever it is, it feels amazing. His tongue starts concentrating mainly on my clit. Between every suck, every nibble, my stomach started building a tight knot already. My thighs clamp around his head, which he opens back up without interrupting his work. If I’d have known how good he was at this, maybe I would’ve given in a little sooner. “Oh my,” I whisper as quietly as I can. My breaths were loud enough. His arms hook a tighter hold on my thighs to keep my in place, as my body moving uncontrollably. I was so close. I knew he could feel it too. The knot begins to tighten, excitement growing more and more. And I let go, bringing a release that - although was only growing for a day - was much needed. I press my mouth against my arm to contain the majority of my moan. He gracefully lets me ride out my high, until I’m even more of a heavy-breathing mess beneath him.
He unhooks himself. I can’t help but smile massively at him as his face comes into view. “Don’t,” I stop his words with a whisper. His eyebrows raise. I do wish he wouldn’t always have that fuckboy smile on his face. “Go back to the couch,” I nudge him on the shoulder. As quietly as he can, he gets up off the bed. He comes close to my ear once more. “Bet you can sleep now.”
And I did.
Tag list:
@nevinna
If you are interested, here’s the link to Part Three :)
#jj obx#outer banks jj#jj maybank#jj mayback x reader#jj outer banks#jj outer banks smut#jj maybank smut#obx smut#obx jj x reader#obx jj smut
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a date with destiny
pairing: ransom drysdale x reader
word count: 1.9k
summary: fate brings you to a... questionable man more than a few times.
warnings: lots of fluff, enemies/strangers to lovers, kind of cringe
a/n: i swear my new thing is poorly writing every played out fanfic trope on the planet, i'm so sorry guys. maybe hallmark can hire me to write a few movies for them
You definitely could’ve avoided this situation if you didn’t wait for the weekend before Christmas to go shopping for your family’s presents.
You had no idea why your time management had to be so bad, but in the midst of working way too many hours in an effort to get promoted, you had completely forgotten about the fact that Christmas was literally right around the corner. And to make it worse, you had a flight tomorrow that you’d also forgotten about.
You sulked to yourself while walking around Nordstrom, waiting for inspiration to strike you for a semi-decent gift for your mother. The whole world seemed to be out that day, and you watched a plethora of shoppers pass you by, with their sour faces and unruly children. After eventually deciding on a black winter sweater for your mom, you went on your way to the candle section, knowing exactly the brand and scent that your sister would love.
This candle was the definition of a non-negotiable for you, and had been the reason you came to a Nordstrom in the first place, and when you found it sitting on a shelf by itself in all of its glory, you had simply become transfixed.
As you walked toward the candle, you didn’t notice that another customer was going for it as well, leading both of your hands to land on the candle, the absurdity of the situation making you blush. This was just your luck.
“Oh, this is awkward,” you played off the encounter, then attempted to subtly pull the candle your way, and away from the man.
“Yeah, it kinda is.” The man whose hand was also placed on the candle said shortly, before attempting to pull the candle his way.
“Hey man, I’m kinda on a tight schedule, and I really need to get this like… right now. I have a flight in like.. An hour,” you exaggerated.
“That’s too bad, ‘cause I really need this candle too.”
You took a deep breath, only you would find yourself in this kind of situation. “To be fair, I definitely saw this candle first. I’m its rightful buyer,” You attempted.
“Mmm, I definitely had my eyes on it first, so with your logic, I deserve this candle.” The man narrowed his baby blue eyes, and put a hand on his hip.
“Oh my god,” you groaned, hoping that maybe if you acted dramatic enough, he’d leave you and your candle alone.
“Sweetheart, can you even afford this kind of thing? I’m sure your friends or family, or whoever the fuck you’re getting this for, would rather you not go into debt over a candle. Just let me have it,” he responded cooly, as if he hadn’t just called you poor to your face.
You looked at him with an open-mouthed expression, completely shocked at the nerve this man had. “Fuck you, you asshole!” You attempted to yank the candle out from his grip, and you could begin to tell that the man’s resolve was beginning to fall.
“Fine. Take the damn candle. But maybe you could give me a little gift in exchange, and go out with me sometime,” he offered, slipping his now free hand into the pocket of his tan peacoat.
You were honestly shocked by this whole exchange. How did he go from insulting you and calling you poor, to asking you on a date? Men are so weird, you thought to yourself. He really isn’t that bad looking, you also considered. “Eat shit, guy,” you told him before flipping him off, and walking away.
-----
Imagine your surprise when you saw the same man from the store sitting in a local Massachusetts restaurant, with whom you assumed were his family. With your sister sitting across from you, you couldn’t help but be gossipy and point him out.
You scoffed and leaned over to your sister once you saw him, “See that guy over there?” You whispered to her, gesturing your head in his general direction.
“Which one?” she asked. “There are like five guys. Are you talking about the dude with the goatee? That old dude with the grey hair? Y/N! I didn’t know you were a grave robber!” she giggled and poked your side while you rolled your eyes, “Or, are you talking about that sexy beast in the white sweater?”
“The se- the dude in the sweater-”
“Oh yeah, he’s pretty hot. You should go talk to him,” she began to scoot out of her seat.
“No, you idiot!” You whisper shouted to her. “That guy basically attacked me in the store the other day. And then, he had the nerve to ask me out on a date!”
He must’ve felt the two of you’s stare, as he turned around and gave you a brief surprised look, then a twisted smirk.
“Oh my god, Bea, act natural,” You whispered before turning your head so fast that you nearly gave yourself whiplash.
You brought a hand up to your face and rubbed your browline in a fit of embarrassment. You looked down, then began to shovel pasta into your mouth at an ungodly fast rate.
“Oh come on, Y/N, he’s cute. What did he say to you that was so bad that you turned down his hot ass?” She asked, glancing back over at the man who was still occasionally looking over at your table.
“It’s kinda a long story. I’ll tell you later,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the heat steadily growing on your cheeks.
Beatrice shrugged, and a waiter approached your table.
“Ma’am, the man over there wanted me to give this to you,” he said before awkwardly placing a glass of white wine in front of you, along with a ripped napkin with a note and number.
We started off on the wrong foot, give me a call sometime?
Ransom
XXX-XXX-XXXX
-----
You looked at the note for so long, that it would’ve been better off being tattooed on the back of your eyelids.
“Just text him, Y/N,” your sister told you, her sentence a bit muffled by the toothbrush dangling from her mouth.
“He really seems like a dick,” you groaned, before rolling onto your back and throwing an arm over your eyes. Your sister rinsed out her mouth in the ensuite before returning with some advice.
“Well, he’s hot. Maybe you can bring him as a date to the Holiday party or something,” she stated before sitting down on the foot of your bed. “What’s the worst that could happen, Y/N? If he hurts your feelings, you can throw a hot drink at him and walk away. At best, you get a hot piece of ass to be your boyfriend.” she squeezed your calf reassuringly.
“Ugh, fine,” you huffed. “I’ll text him tomorrow.”
“That’s my girl!” Beatrice cheered, then placed a kiss on your forehead. “‘Night, Y/N,”
“Goodnight,” you mumbled before attempting to fall asleep.
-----
The funny thing about you, is that you were a master procrastinator. So after a day and a half, you’d put Ransom’s number into your phone, but had contemplated so many different opening texts, that you’d just completely given up. Besides, you had your parents’ holiday party to be attending and to be caring about.
You did some final touch ups of your makeup, before heading downstairs, and watching guests arrive from a safe spot in the kitchen.
Sometime after talking to about seven of your childhood friends, you felt a large hand press against the satin material of your short, red, tie-waisted dress.
“No way, girl I see everywhere?” The man who you know knew was Ransom, asked.
“It’s Y/N. Hi, Ransom,” you bit the inside of your cheek to hold back your laugh at the absurdity of it all, the fact that he was standing in your parents’ home, the fact that he was literally everywhere you went, and because you’d never in your life been called ‘The girl I see everywhere.’
“Why didn’t you ever call me? I mean, not even a text? Also, why are you following me everywhere?” He inquired, moving to stand in front of you.
“Well, I uh.. I forgot. Sorry, I’m a super busy woman. And I also live here... sometimes.. so if anyone is following anyone else, it’s you following me,” you tried to say this confidently, but something about Ransom really threw you off your game.
“You live here? No way. Is this like your family home?” He asked, and you nodded. “So our parents have been friends this whole time, and we had no idea.” He gestured to a doorway, where your mother and his were talking with flutes of champagne in hand.
“This just keeps getting weirder and weirder,” you said quietly, mostly to yourself.
“Maybe, this is just fate. We’re meant to be together, and that’s why we keep seeing each other everywhere,” you raised an eyebrow and tilted your head when he said that to you, genuinely confused at why those words would come out of his mouth. “Oh, lighten up. I’m just kidding,” he said with a bemused smile.
“You have a weird sense of humor, Ransom.” You told him plainly, trying to act disinterested, though you were rather endeared. He definitely saw right through you, as he gave you a little grin before he began to speak again.
“So tell me about yourself.”
-----
After a few too many drinks, you were walking down the sidewalk, hand and hand with Ransom as you searched for any sort of restaurant that could be open at that hour.
Finally, you found a quaint and rather empty 24-hour diner with its lights on. The two of you sat down in a booth, and struggled to contain giggles as you sipped from mugs of stale, lukewarm coffee. Why you were giggling, you weren’t completely sure.
“You know what, Ransom, once you get over the asshole-ness, you’re not that bad,” you reached out a hand, and set it on top of Ransom’s, that was idly sitting on the table.
“Wow, thanks,” he chuckled, a dark pink dusting his cheeks.
“Why did we even come here?” You groaned, “No offense, but this coffee tastes like ass,” you whined,
“And how do you know what ass tastes like?” Ransom burst out giggling at this.
“Shut up. Are you twelve?” You pretended to be annoyed with him, before giving in and laughing along with him. “Can you take me home?” You asked with puppy dog eyes.
Apparently, one for the dramatics, Ransom tossed a $50 bill onto the table, then stood up from his seat at the booth to swoop you up in a bridal style.
“Ohhh my god,” you slurred as he carried you out the door, then eventually set you back down on the pavement once he became tired.
-----
While you walked up to your doorstep, Ransom stood on the sidewalk, watching you contentedly. As you got to your door and turned around, he gave you a big, goofy smile and a wave.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Come in with me,” you invited. It was safe to say, Ransom happily obliged.
#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale x you#ransom thrombey x you#ransom thrombey x reader#chris evans x reader#chris evans fic#knives out fanfic#fluff#hey i wrote that lol
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A Learning Curve-Halfdan The Black x Reader
(GIF credit to @ithappensoffstage)
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Requested by @charming-merlin: ‘*shy waving* hello :3 as you may know I'm a mess for Halfdan and I was wondering if you could write something. I thought about Halfdan fell in love with Y/N but she's very shy and don't know how to act bc she doesn't has any experience with man. He shows her how it all works but needs to remind himself again and again to slow things down and don't be too fast and harsh as usual. Doesn't know if you could do it, anything Halfdan related would make me so happy 🥺💞 Hope you're having a good day!’
Characters: Halfdan The Black x Reader
Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name
Warnings: Slight swearing, smut, fluff
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Where’s your cloak?!” my grandmother shrieked as I opened the door.
Sighing, I turned to look at her sat at the table, her angry eyes glaring at me.“We’ve spoken of this grandmother, I am not betrothed anymore, remember? I don’t need to hide myself from other men until I’m married.”
She thought about it, grumbling,“Still, you shouldn’t be flaunting yourself about.”
I rolled my eyes, not wanting to retaliate.“I don’t think I get that much attention on me anyway. I must say, I haven’t noticed any men falling at my feet.”
“Well, they should be. You know you’re a beautiful woman.”
Her kind words stumped me. My grandmother wasn’t cruel, she was very loving, but I hadn’t expected this exchange to turn into something sweet.
“Oh, thank you grandmother. I won’t be long, I’m just getting the final ingredients for mother tonight.”
She lazily waved at me before I shut the door behind me, passing by some neighbours that were chatting outside. We briefly greeted each other, smiling politely. It was a lot quieter as the evening grew closer. The market would soon be closing for the night, but it was always a good time to go if you were needing a few items. I had never been fond of being swept up in the crowds, people always pushed in front of me, but I never spoke up. I didn’t want the confrontation, I would only lose anyway. Relief flooded through me seeing how there were little to no people around, immediately heading to the stalls I needed to buy from. However, the time to myself was short lived; after buying some ingredients, I noticed the stall holder’s expression change to that of nervousness. Glancing behind me, I saw a man standing there. I quickly realised that it was Halfdan, King Harald’s brother.
My head whipped back around, clutching my basket closer to me. Hopefully he had just been staring, hanging around for no reason. Moving to the next stall, I tried to stop my hand from shaking as I paid again, still feeling his eyes on me. I told myself I was being stupid, that he would have no interest in someone like myself. But I was wrong, flinching when I saw how close he had got to me. Instead of acknowledging him, I carried on walking, my stomach twisting when I realised he was now following me.
“How come I haven’t seen you here before?” he started, showing up beside me.
“Uh, I-I d-don’t come here m-much.” I stuttered, avoiding eye contact.
“That is a shame.”
For some reason I stopped walking. I know I didn’t want to leave the market place, as there were still people around, it felt slightly safer than returning home; the paths could be empty, and he could do anything to me.
“Why are you s-sp-speaking to me?”
He looked confused.“Because you are beautiful.”
“I’m not a whore!” I exclaimed, scared that he was thinking that way.
“I didn’t say you were.”
“Were...were you not thinking that?”
“No, you hold yourself too well.”
“So, what do you want?”
He shrugged his shoulders.“To speak with you.”
“That is it?”
“If that’s all you should allow me to do.” he smirked, and I involuntarily scoffed, fear rising in me as it slipped out of my mouth.
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that-”
“Why are you apologising?”
“I was rude to you.”
“And I was not to you?” there was a hint of humour in his voice.
I stepped around him.“I must be getting back, my family will wonder where I am.”
“Will you be back?” he called after me.
“I-I don’t know. Maybe. I...I am not sure.”
“Can I at least have a name?”
I didn’t respond, my heart was racing so fast that it was thumping in my ears. My feet swiftly walked me back home, I must have been going faster than I thought because I found myself at my house in no time. Glancing around, I checked that Halfdan hadn’t followed me. But why would he? If he wanted a woman, he could easily go get one somewhere else. I wasn’t going to be used for such activities and talked about the next day whilst people turned their noses up at me. My mother thanked me as I handed her the ingredients, before I gave my father any remaining money. My grandmother was still sat at the table, eyeing me up and down not so subtly.
“(Y/N), you seem very red in the face. Are you feeling well?” she asked.
“Yes, there is just a slight chill outside.” I lied.
“I told you to take your cloak.”
“Mother,” my own mother interrupted,“she is her own woman. We are no longer connected to that...man that thought he had a hold over my daughter.”
“Please can we not talk about him?” I rushed.
“Sorry,” mother brushed my hair back, kissing my head as she sympathetically smiled at me,“there is no more talk of him.”
“You’ve met someone!” grandmother gasped, pointing a finger at me.
“Mother, what are you talking about?”
“There’s that same look in her eyes, the look she had for...well, him.”
I sighed.“I didn’t meet anyone.”
“You did!” mother gasped.“You always itch behind her ear when you lie, have done since you were a child.”
I knew there was no point lying anymore, I had always been terrible at it.“I-I did meet someone, technically, but we talked for a brief moment. It doesn’t mean anything!”
“You never know, the Gods have mysterious ways to bring people together.”
“Down by the market? Oh yes, very mysterious.” grandmother mocked.
“It...it was no one.”
Mother placed her hands on her hips.“Who is he?”
I took a deep breath, not prepared for their reactions.“It’s Halfdan. As in, King Harald’s brother Halfdan.”
Silence.
No one even moved. I felt like I should have repeated myself, until I saw eyes flickering. Daring to turn around, I cringed at the sight of my father. He was hard to read in this moment, it looked like a mixture of shock, anger and confusion.
“The dowry will have to be a much higher price.” grandmother broke the silence.
My parents tried to contain their laughter, failing in that and giving in to grandmother’s joke (though I’m sure she was being ultimately serious). I cracked a smile, glad that the tension had relaxed, hopefully the topic would change. Much to my dismay, the focus remained on me. They bombarded me with questions; what did he ask me, where did we meet, what mood did he seem to be in, was his brother there? I answered truthfully, thinking that they would grow bored, but it had the total opposite effect. They said (more like demanded) that if he approached me again, I was to put aside my foolish shyness and see if he was truly interested in me, and not just, in my own father’s words, what was between my legs.
They knew I wouldn’t leave the house and miraculously bump into him unless I was headed somewhere where Halfdan would likely be. I grew very annoyed at the amount of times my family told me to go out, using excuses like the market again, or going to a neighbour to give/ask for something. However, I was going to be seeing him a lot sooner than I thought.
"My beautiful woman has returned." I jumped as Halfdan said behind me.
"Halfdan." I mumbled, nodding my head at him.
It was obvious that the people passing by were staring, wanting to see if there was a story here for them to gossip about later. I kept my head down, hoping no one I knew had seen me. Continuing to walk, I diverted us down a smaller path, one that wasn't so busy.
"Trying to sneak off somewhere?" he teased.
"I did not want prying eyes on us." I stated.
"You are ashamed to be seen with me?"
"No, that is the wrong word."
"Then why have you been avoiding me? You have not come out of hiding for days."
Standing behind a pen, we were now away from everyone, no one should come back here. I sighed, pushing my hair behind my ear, still too scared to look at him.
"Don't you know how much attention I gain if I am seen with you? My family would be the talk of Kattegat."
"So reputation is more important?"
"That's not what I'm saying."
"It sounds like it."
My lips were twitching into a smile at his stubbornness. It wasn't arrogant, it was somehow humorous to me. He smiled when I did, taking in a sharp breath before speaking again.
"Please, just give me a chance. I will show you that there is nothing to be worried about."
And I actually agreed.
Well, my family had been over the moon at the proposition. The first time, Halfdan had invited me to where he was staying, he had somehow received his own place (I thought he would be with his brother), and I was shocked at the effort he had put in, or rather, his thralls. In front of the fire, multiple furs were laid on the floor, an array of foods spread out around it. It was adorable how Halfdan thought it was too much from my reaction, though I quickly changed his mind when I gushed over it. We had talked about our lives, laughed, flirted; but when it came to getting intimate, I was stumped.
"(Y/N)? What's wrong?" he whispered, his breath fanning over my lips.
I held eye contact with him."I've... I've never kissed anyone before."
His eyebrows furrowed."How has no one kissed those lips?"
I was blushing, deciding to shrug as a response.
His hand cradled my cheek."Don’t worry, I can show you."
We had kissed for a majority of that night, and I became more and more confident, until he started to lay me down. I went with it, wondering if I could really go this far. He started to grind on me, and I did so back, not minding this so much, it was simple to do. But as soon as his hand started to travel down my leg, I froze, accidentally yelping out. That's when I reiterated that this was the first time I had kissed a man, and he finally understood. This was where things would end, surely?
It did not.
Halfdan took me riding through the forests, we went drinking together in and out of public, I had dinner with him multiple times. Never did he once pressure me into anything, just asking for kisses to bide his time. I had been surprised by this too, especially after the stories I heard about him. He was a warrior, a savage, he took what he wanted whenever he wanted it. Women had spoken of his rendezvous, how animal-like he was. And that scared me.
Once again, we were relaxing at his, ending up lying down on the bed. We were facing each other, hands intertwined. I had been quiet all night, and I knew this, Halfdan had noticed too. There was doubt on my mind, doubt about the decision I was about to make.
"What is wrong? You have hardly spoken tonight." Halfdan asked.
I hesitated."Halfdan, you've been so patient with me. After all I heard of you, before I knew the real you, I did not expect such a romantic side to come out."
He smiled."What are you saying?"
Not knowing how to put it into words, I simply leaned forwards, initiating a passionate kiss. Halfdan instantly wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close to him. I responded by rolling on top of him, hands holding my up slightly on his chest. My friends had exchanged stories about their sex lives, and I was trying to remember all the details, though I had trouble concentrating on anything other than nerves. Before I could even attempt to do anything, Halfdan strongly pushed me onto my back, shocking me; he didn’t seem to notice, tucking his head into my neck as he began kissing and sucking at it. I writhed beneath him, unsure what to do with my body, just knowing I was enjoying the sensations pulsing through me. One hand gripped onto his shoulder, the other on the back of his head, moans loudly escaping my mouth. I almost relaxed more into it when his hands started wandering. He was quick to start ruffling up my skirts, exposing my legs (and almost more of me) when I sprung up into a sitting position, Halfdan shuffling back.
“What? What is it?” Halfdan stressed, worried about me.
“S-sorry, I-”
“(Y/N), if you don’t want to do this-”
“No! I do! It’s just...you know I’ve never experienced anything like this. Could we take it slower maybe?”
He quietly sighed, reaching for my hand.“I am sorry (Y/N). I have not been...slow with a woman in a long time. But if this makes you more comfortable, then this is how we will do it. Also,” he gently pecked me on the lips,“if that means savouring every moment with you and your body, I am more than happy to abide.”
My cheeks were definitely flushed at this point, from the heat we made and from his comment. Feeling safer, I boldly crawled forward, slowly straddling him. Pulling up my skirt so that from the thigh down I was exposed, I relished the look in Halfdan’s eyes, loving the way his hands caressed my skin. As we kissed again, he circled his hands around, moving further and further up; it was teasingly slow when he started to touch me, rubbing his fingers back and forth. My head tilted back in pleasure, gasping again when he eased in one finger. It was a strange feeling, so foreign at first, but as he slid it in and out, soon adding another inside me, I realised how much I had been missing out on.
Still wanting to go slow, I let him continue, eyes shooting down at him in a glare as he removed his fingers. He chuckled, laying me on my back and pushing my skirts even further up. I crossed my legs, not used to someone seeing so much of me, which Halfdan tutted at. Sliding his hands back up my legs, I enjoyed spreading them for him, wondering what he was doing as his head disappeared from my view. Until his tongue ran through me, and I instinctively bucked my hips up. Continuing to lick me, his arm pinned me down, causing my back to arch, and I gripped onto the pillows around me. I moaned over and over, louder and louder, calling out his name when he hit a specific spot. That wonderful feeling in the pit of my stomach was building again, and just as I thought it would all come crashing down on me, he stopped.
My protests flew out of the window as he sat back and removed his shirt, leaving me no time to admire him as he tugged at my own dress. The coldness made my skin break out into goosebumps, and before I could even think about covering my breasts, Halfdan already had his own hands on them.
“Halfdan...” I breathed out, knowing that if we carried on, I wouldn’t be able to keep up with his pace.
“Too fast?” he halted.
I melted at that.“Just a little.”
“Sorry.”
“That’s not to say I’m not enjoying it.”
He let out a breathy laugh.“Good. This part will feel uncomfortable at first, alright?”
I meekly nodded, already knowing what he was referring to. He sweetly kissed my forehead, travelling down my nose, then to my lips before leaning back to take his trousers off. Keeping eye contact with me, he hovered over me again, his strong arms holding him up either side of my head. Glancing down, I gulped when I saw...him. Obviously I had never seen one before, but even with nothing to compare it to, I was still impressed. Dragging my legs up to spread them again, Halfdan interlocked one of our hands, giving me a reassuring kiss before I felt it against me.
He slid himself against me, checking once more that I was ready. Gripping onto his hand, I nodded, now desperate to know what it would be like to have him inside of me. My breath caught in my throat as he entered, eyes squeezing shut. It was a familiar yet altogether different feeling to that of his fingers. The stories of pain were true, though it was bearable. I saw him hesitate, and I urged him to go on. Once he was fully in, I opened my eyes to see Halfdan’s eyes closed, mouth agape as his breathing became heavier. He built up a pace, a smooth rhythm happening between our bodies. When he opened his eyes, we looked at each other, an unknown emotion being exchanged. He was going slightly quicker now, grunting as he thrusted. When I whimpered, he instantly stopped, slowly down rapidly.
“No, no, go a bit faster. Please.” I whined, moving my hips upwards.
He smirked.“You said to go slow.”
Halfdan (the little shit) pulled out almost completely, sliding in ever so slowly. Although it was nice, I needed more friction. Pouting, I cried out his name, hoping it would turn him on more where he wouldn’t be able to control himself. He knew what he was doing, but I could see he was also impatient. I could tell that even when he was going fast for me, this wasn’t him to his full extent. We were being extremely loud, not caring if anyone heard us, we wanted the noise complaints. My legs were shaking, I wanted this feeling to last forever, crying out when a sudden wave of calmness washed over me. Halfdan thrusted a few more times before he too came down. Both breathless, our gaze was held, sloppily kissing each other as he removed himself.
With my legs throbbing, I laid there trying to regain my breathing. Halfdan carefully covered me with a fur, shuffling closer to hold me in his arms. We were hot and sweaty, but that didn’t matter.
“Thank you.” I breathed out.
“I have been thanked many times before,” he cheekily said,“but it has only meant something coming from you.”
I scoffed a laugh, rolling my eyes.“Other men may have not been so kind. Some would have even thrown me to the side. But you were good to me Halfdan, if that doesn’t make you a man, I don’t know what does.”
“The Gods drew us together for some reason. I am glad that they did. I have my beautiful woman now.”
“And I my handsome man. Though I am tired.”
“Sleep my love.” he kissed the top of my head.“You will need plenty of rest for what I have planned for us in the future.”
#Halfdan the Black#halfdan the black imagine#halfdan the black imagines#halfdan the black x reader#halfdan the black one shot#halfdan#halfdan imagine#halfdan imagines#halfdan one shot#halfdan x reader#vikings#vikings imagine#vikings imagines#vikings one shot#vikings x reader#vikings fan fic#vikings fanfic#vikings fanfiction#vikings fan fiction
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okay so is there content that you had planned for the ROs and story in general but then scrapped cause there wasn’t a good place in the story to stick it in? and if so, can you share what it was? 👀 👀 👀
yes, definitely. *rubs hands together* oh man, you done asked THE question today xD I can't wait to get into this 😁
Academics. I almost decided to have classes and grades be a minor part of gameplay, but the more time I spent designing it the more I realized I wanted nothing to do with it 😂 I haven’t really enjoyed academic gameplay in other interactive fiction because I 1) hate having to choose between studying and interacting with awesome characters, 2) have terrible short term memory, and 3) hate school in general!! So instead I just opted to have the MC be really good at school, point blank period so I could focus on social drama and relationships instead! 😆
Physical skills. I spent literal months crafting the catering scene around setting up stats for stamina/endurance, dexterity, and strength instead of just magnetism, confidence, and persuasion. They had their own backstories with the MC’s parents being overly invested sports parents instead and I think the background choices were like... martial arts, gymnastics, and track? But yeah, I ended up scrapping it all because I was spending hours on research about those individual sports so I could integrate them into the MC’s narrative organically but like... when I tried to think of what use they would be in the actual story, I came up blank. Best decision yet, esp since it means a lot less coding!
Skin tone customization. For one, I noticed that a lot of my favorite IFs don’t offer that customization and it hasn’t impacted my experience at all. For two, I originally realized I might as well not implement it since I am striving real hard not to introduce any customization that won’t actually be mentioned in interesting or meaningful ways in-story. I don’t think it’s really all that common for real life friends (esp in high school?) to comment or compliment each other’s skin and like... when it comes from someone who doesn’t share a similar complexion or ethnic background, that type of commentary gets... d i c e y. So then I wanted to be sensitive to that but what’s the pay-off? An RO mentioning how they love your skin tone once? Awkward sentences with the MC referring to their own skin color? Idk, just wasn’t vibing with it. I’m open to revisiting it in beta or something but for now it’s scrapped.
Singing, Rapping, and Gaming as Hobbies/Talents. I feel bad about scrapping these, honestly 😂 They’re great and I really wanted to incorporate them but it just came down to already having a lot of stuff to code. Plus, I know I can write the Hobbies/Talents I stuck with far better. And for Book 2 purposes, as well!
Leo. as @sourandflightypeaches asked me about a long while ago, I had to scrap an entire RO 😢 His name is Leo, he was the nephew of wealthy west African diplomats residing in Emerson, and I love him dearly! His backstory was largely based on my mother’s childhood and the circumstances she lived through after immigrating to America. and... ok, i’m about to go on one hell of a tangent so buckle up and bear with me if you can 😅
my intention with this story, aside from writing things that I personally enjoy (graphic violence, spooky woods, social drama, romance, conspiracies 😚), is to explore greed, wealth, and how the ways people and families interact with those two things influence young people and who they grow up to be. here i go sounding pretentious af 😝 and here’s where I apply a cut for those who want to preserve a little mystery to the main characters!
With Gabe, we’ve got someone who grew up with very little stability or financial security but who has found unscrupulous methods to gain status and money, with both noble and selfish motivations.
Kile has some of that childhood experience in common with Gabe, having been in the foster care system since infancy, but they lucked out when they were adopted into massive wealth by a caring, loving couple—a couple that uses their wealth and privilege to be far more lenient and protective of Kile than is actually reasonable or responsible.
Jack comes from a prestigious wealthy family on his dad’s side who he loves dearly but there’s no getting around the fact that they love him back as much as they despise his working class mom.
Jessie is a spoiled sweet heiress (being the baby of her family and the only girl) and while she lives blissfully ignorant of the harmful source and impact of her father's income and career, she bears the weight of the expectation to fulfill very traditional gender roles, including her behavior and appearance, but also extending to her career and life plans.
Rain's wealth led to them growing up sheltered and isolated but also extremely accommodated, giving them maximum freedom and opportunity to discover and develop their personal talents and interests. However, they have almost no positive relationship with their parents who have essentially decided to give up on a kid that couldn't be exactly the accessory they tried to mold them to be—both in terms of their identity and personality.
Rupan/Rohan, at their very core, rejects everything about conformity, self-importance, and excessive luxury—which means they have never, ever truly fit in with their peers. Going full non-conformist, however, has resulted in them becoming alienated from much of their family, as well, despite them all loving each other very much. Their history with false friends and betrayals has led them to over-indulge in their vices and reckless behavior to compensate for that isolation. Sometimes, they just get in over their head and many times, they know better. Every time, it's just that the feeling of finally belonging is utterly intoxicating.
Vivian/Vincent has two extremely successful parents who didn't inherit but instead built up their wealth and they aspire to be just like them, to a degree that is well and truly unhealthy. Their mother specifically is an over-achiever and applies mountainous pressure for them to follow in her footsteps, especially academically. Vi is completely capable of achieving what their mom expects of them, but they were already an extremely sensitive perfectionist so this has made them intensely critical of themself. This is a large part of why they are such a rigid, no-nonsense person and that in turn has made them one of the most disliked people among their peers—which is a huge personal failure to them since their father is a very well-liked and socially successful person in town.
And the Emersons are peak privilege: inherent high social status, brains, looks, charisma, athleticism, and massive wealth. They could never have been anything less than extremely popular, just by virtue of their last name and the nature of the town's social dynamics and politics. And they do enjoy that privilege (esp Curt lol). However, it should go without saying that being so high profile, even (or maybe especially) just in the isolated scope of your hometown, isn't always a boon. Their family's and their own perceived failings are widely discussed and privately mocked and/or celebrated. Real friends are scarce while fake ones and snakes are plentiful. Plus their dad is a gigantic dickhead who sees his kids as extensions of his own status and reputation and not much else. Public shortcomings make for an unbearable time at home and the world outside the estate is at once overly accommodating, full of assumptions, and even subtly hostile at times—all unrelated to their own actions or character.
And with the MC, I think the narrative will make it clear there are several ways that story can go. You start off with irresponsible parents that have lost their wealth due to their own mismanagement and material ambitions—how that affects any individual MC should differ based on choices and consequences!
So why bring any of that up when I was supposed to be talking about my cut OC? 😂😂
Leo was going to be the unwelcome recent addition to his uncle’s household, the son of a brother his aunt hates for (petty af) Reasons, and she took that resentment out on him directly by restricting his access to nearly every aspect of the family's wealth. Especially material goods and living conditions. He was basically treated like the help, tasked with playing nanny for his many younger cousins and burdened with doing the homework and providing academic cover for his dumb as rocks cousin in the same grade as you all. To sum it up, he was basically a victim of trafficking at the hands of his own family with his uncle out of town enough to feign ignorance to how bad his wife was treating his nephew and his aunt going out of her way to keep him busy, at home, and isolated. This is sadly a super common form of trafficking in Francophone African cultures (although I don't think most people view it as trafficking. and I’m sure the same is true of other cultures but I don’t want to speak outside of my purview). And like I mentioned above, it’s how my own mom's (and idek how many cousins') child/teenhood went.
It’s a perspective on modern wealth, privilege and greed that I really, really wanted to tell. I am confident in saying it hasn't been explored in interactive fiction yet (though correct me—and direct me 👀—if I'm wrong) and out of all the wealth/greed explorations I came up with, it's the one I have the closest personal ties to and the strongest feelings about. The characters and plans I had for it were detailed and I'm proud of them but at the end of the day... I just couldn't find a place for Leo in the story at large.
Leo was, in fact, the last main character I came up with, when I had already designed and fleshed out the larger story and started crafting the timeline of major events. I think the worst thing I could have done for a story and perspective that I care about this much is shove it into a plot that didn't have room for it at the very base level, regardless of how well the character or his story is written. Shoe-horned characters always stick out. I didn’t want to disservice Leo by having him be the character that did nothing or could be removed from the main plot without affecting it at all, y’know? That’s so much worse than just forgoing the indulgence, imo :((
ugh.... Leooooo 😭 I'm so sorry bb, I failed youuu 😥
#lovely anon#answered#hotmess#ok I am truly so sorry for going on and on like this#writing#ch design#ty for this question it was really nice to revisit this stuff 😃#and a nice reminder to not look back lol#scrapped
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blueming - choi beomgyu
summary: pre relationship au! m/n is a tired college student that falls in love so easily. beomgyu is the cute barista that he falls for.
word count: 3k
now playing: blueming – iu & i’m so pretty - nature
notes: first in a series
m/n stumbles into his least favorite coffee shop exhausted, with a migraine, clutching an ice pack, and a gloomy disposition, wondering why everyone is so happy. it's not his fault, honestly it's not.
it's minju's.
she dragged him out last night to go shopping, which ended in disaster. he tripped over jewelry laying on the floor, got pushed into a wall and got slapped in the face, hard. not only that, but he got awoken by freaking justin bieber of all things and the starbucks across the street from his study hall is closed, and now he has to run all the way across to the other side of campus just to get a cup of freaking coffee.
wait, he also got knocked out after being hit by a trombone at orchestra practice.
he's internally yelling at minju in his mind before deciding to actually let her know how he feels via a strongly worded text message (she'll probably be fuming that he woke her from her sleep but he's too angry to care) just as he reached the front counter. still pounding away at his phone, he grunts out his order, dropping the exact amount of money for his venti-frappucino-with-three-espresso-shots. yeah, he's definitely not having the best morning.
"sorry, could you repeat that?"
m/n looks up, ready to glare viciously and direct his bad mood at the barista who obviously pays no attention... but instead gapes at him because the barista is actually really cute and damn maybe he's already got a crush. and, oh shit, he's the guy who minju tutors sometimes on weekends.
the barista (beomgyu, m/n remembers) stands there with an uncomfortable smile, awkwardly standing there behind the counter. (m/n would be lying if he said that wasn't one of the cutest things he's ever seen.) "your order?"
m/n gapes a little more before regaining his composure, a polite smile gracing his features. "yeah - right, sorry. um, a venti frappuccino with three espresso shots." he pushes the coins forward, waiting awkwardly.
beomgyu smiles again, this time an actual smile gracing his features (m/n will never admit that he swooned a little), appearing amused if anything. "right," he quickly scooped the change up before yelling behind him. "yein! large frap, three shots!" he registers m/n's change and hands m/n his drink. "thanks for coming to golden swirls! have a great day, m/n-ssi."
m/n blushes because beomgyu actually knows his name and he may or may not be screaming inside because of it. someone behind him coughs, interrupting his inner emotions and m/n is so glad that he's not in high school because he so has a schoolgirl crush.
"thanks- i'll be going-" m/n runs out of the door before he could embarrass himself further, almost dropping his coffee as he goes and accidentally knocking his laptop bag that's swung over his shoulder into the wall outside. he looks at beomgyu through the large window, watching how he serves the next customer before quickly heading off towards his next class.
not even ten seconds later, he's managed to almost break his laptop, spill his coffee over a random stranger and he just wants the ground to swallow him up. his patience has run thin and he finds himself swearing because of how awful this one morning has gone. fuck today, fuck his life, just fuck
.
most of the time, m/n's lucky to have minju in his life. they share an apartment together with minju running a home business as a pastry chef, she helps him with all of his assignments and they've known each other forever. but today, he really hopes that he has awoken her from her sleep (he doesn't want anything horrible to happen to her, he loves her too much) because it's her fault that he's injured. (maybe not completely her fault, not that he'll ever admit it.)
after getting back to the apartment and telling her of his god-forsaken awful day, she has the audacity to laugh.
she laughs so hard that she ends up falling off the couch, her makeup smudging which he's sure she'll be upset about. he doesn't really appreciate that she's laughing and he thinks that maybe he should take photos or a video because she laughs like a horse on crack. he chooses the third option which is attempting to make her spontaneously combust with the power of his glare.
"what the actual fuck." if anything, she laughs even harder and starts rolling around on the floor. he grabs a nearby throw pillow and launches it at her.
(she retaliates, flipping the couch over and them sitting on his back, she tries suffocating him with a surprisingly lethal fluffy cushion.)
after she stops attempting to strangle him and they put their living room back to the original state, they return to their previous conversation. but he immediately wishes that she's still attempting to murder him, because she is smirking. (he's so going to be antagonized for another week)
"so what basically happened, is that you publicly humiliated yourself in front of a cute guy and now you've turned into a weeping willow." she almost bursts out laughing again after her summary, instead pinching his cheek.
m/n immediately recoils, covering his face with another throw cushion. "yes, thank you for reminding me of the possibly most embarassing period of my life."
"you could've been worse. you could've spilled coffee on him, you could've fallen flat on your face as soon as you walked through the door." she laughed while he blushes even harder than he thought possible. (leave it to minju to bring up previous events.)
"i hate you," he manages to squeak out from underneath the pillow, curling in on himself.
"i love you too," she pats his head affectionately. "now i'll order some chinese food and we'll spend the whole night watching cheesy rom-coms while i try to cheer you up with some horrible puns and jokes."
(m/n cracks a smile because he honestly couldn't ask for a better best friend.)
--
after finally managing to finish his music assignment and edit another three essays as well as helping minju with baking cupcakes, m/n skypes kangmin. kangmin (the same person who chose to go in china instead of staying in seoul, the traitor) has been the third member of their group ever since the beginning of elementary as well as the exact reason for m/n's sexuality crisis. (which may or may not have included a temporary relationship and a lot of making out.)
it's not like m/n can hold it against him, but of course he still wonders why all of his friends have to be so damn good looking and adorable.
kangmin, unsurprisingly, doesn't answer the phone the first time but the second time yejin had picked up the call. yejin was the last member of their group and was the most creative and independent of the bunch. she was the first person that m/n had met that he loved within the first five minutes of meeting. of course, sometimes she was over-dramatic and hyperactive but it didn't really matter, she was still one of his best friends.
"hey m/n!" yejin smiled, flashing her pearly whites. "kangmin is currently busy working on that huge programming or digital project that he got a week ago."
yejin faces the camera towards kangmin, showing him with his head in buried in his hands. there were papers strewn all over the desk while his computer was closed. she subtly takes a picture of his distress before tapping him on the shoulder. kangmin's head snaps, a grimace present until his eyes lands on m/n's face appearing.
"m/n!" kangmin yelled, snatching his phone off yejin. ignoring her rude remark, he positions the phone in a way that both yejin and himself appear on the screen while still being close enough to hear. "sorry, i love you but this stupid piece of code is giving the biggest trouble ever and i just can't take it anymore."
he groans dramatically in his hands while yejin rolls her eyes at him, patting his head fondly.
"you'll be fine." she coos at him, rubbing his hair affectionately. "what's up m/n?"
"i may or may not have met someone..." m/n trails off, laughing at their reactions. yejin starts clapping excitedly and squealing while kangmin's head snaps up with a bright smile on his face.
"who is it? it's not that creepy guy in orchestra is it? if it is, you could do so much better.." yejin rants, not stopping even when kangmin covers her mouth with his hand.
"and i may or may not have also embarassed myself in front of him." yejin shuts up straight away, both her and kangmin starting to giggle.
"how bad was it?" kangmin inquires, a cheeky glint in his eye. "falling-flat-on-your-face-bad or peeing-your-pants-because-you're-so-nervous-bad?"
"neither,"
stares.
"maybe worse,"
more stares.
"it was clown-at-kangmin’s-eighth-birthday-bad."
long story short, kangmin’s parents had hired the wrong person and accidentally hired a drug dealer who tried to convince the kids that the cocaine he brought was sherbet.
kangmin’s parents were mortified at the time but kangmin continues to tell the story whenever he gets the chance.
m/n eventually ends the call because yejin and kangmin are laughing so hard at him and, god, why does everything with him have to be so complicated and embarassing? (he may also have rejected the next two calls, accidentally)
minju, being the absolutely amazing best friend that she is, is so much more helpful than his other two friends. meaning that since she's already laughed at him, she's moved on to the point where she decides that she's going to be a helpful friend.
(m/n shudders at the thought. last time minju decided she was going to be a 'helpful friend', he ended up in the hospital for two weeks and failed two assignments.)
unfortunately, minju turns out to be his only option to call when he sees beomgyu again at the shop.
"please, please, please, come here right now. starbucks is closed, beomgyu's on shift and i need someone here to make sure i don't embarass myself."
turns out, this is the one time that minju isn't available.
"you should've asked me before. i'm too busy. i've got to juggle six different pastry orders and they all have to be done in a couple of hours because i'm catering for a wedding."
well, fuck. m/n looks inside the coffee shop again, noticing that this time beomgyu is looking back at him. beomgyu smiles and waves, while he leans against a broom. m/n can't help but smile back, pocketing his phone and walking through the door.
as soon as he's in the door, he sees the broom that beomgyu is leaning on slips and makes him fall over. he rushes over to beomgyu quickly, helping him back up. beomgyu blushes a bright red while m/n helps him back over to the counter despite being told numerous times that he's fine.
"seriously m/n-ssi, i'm fine." beomgyu giggles. he fucking giggles and suddenly there's a hand on his arm and somehow all the oxygen has left his lungs and why is it so suddenly hot?
"are you sure?" m/n asks again, checking for any injuries. beomgyu nods again, walking awkwardly back behind the counter.
"venti frap, three shots right?" beomgyu's eyes shine, a small blush coating his cheeks. m/n nods, handing over his coins.
beomgyu scoops them up but accidentally drops a few on the ground. after all the coins are picked up, yein suddenly appears by his side with a coffee in her hand.
"smooth move, casanova," she nudges him playfully, before handing the coffee to m/n. beomgyu blushes brightly, moving over to start cleaning the counter.
"thanks, i guess." m/n says awkwardly. "i'll see you later, yeah?"
he runs out the door, waving to them as he goes. he's a few metres away from the coffee shop before he does a happy dance because he didn't embarass himself in front of beomgyu.
(this doesn't erase his bad luck however. he manages to keep his coffee intact, but someone else spilled their coffee on him, he got attacked by a rabid cat and chased by a group of dogs on the way home.)
--
the next time m/n sees beomgyu, it's in the comfort of his own home.
but that doesn't mean, he's ready to face his crush.
m/n's woken up by minju's banshee scream, her high pitched tone filling his entire room. he wishes his first instinct was to cover his own ears but no, his first instinct is to get up and make sure the bathroom door is closed. (every time minju screams, the large mirror in their bathroom 'mysteriously' breaks. and the money that pays for it 'mysteriously' comes out of his own wallet.)
he walks into the living room and he knows he looks like a mess.
his hair is strewn everywhere, making him look like he just got zapped with lightning. he's wearing a plain white shirt but he's only one inside while the other half is wrapped around his shoulder, exposing his lower body. he's also wearing his rainbow briefs while he's got kittens on his socks.
m/n's barely got his other arm in the shirt before he hears a cough behind, where he's met with beomgyu's blushing face.
beomgyu looks like he's trying so hard to look away, he's got his face hidden behind one of his books but his eyes are visible at the top, (it certainly has nothing to do with the way his nose starts to bleed a little) while minju doesn't look much better herself.
she hadn't bothered to brush away her bangs and instead was trying to pour herself a cup of coffee, a large yawn escaping her lips.
"we, meaning me, wants you to make us breakfast," minju speaks like she doesn't know that she just embarrassed m/n in front of his crush. (to her credit, she probably doesn't. she occasionally leaves their apartment half naked because of her tired stupor.)
"uh, r-right." m/n stutters, running back to his room, locking gazes with beomgyu before his door swings shut.
minju eyes him weirdly as he goes. (usually he'd yell at her to stop being lazy and do it herself but he seemed to be too stunned to do anything. she'd have to bring beomgyu around more often.)
"is he okay, minju?" beomgyu puts the book down.
"he'll be fine," minju yawns again, wrinkling her nose. "i've already accomplished my duty as a best friend by bringing you here." she ignored beomgyu's questioning gaze, bringing her mug to her lips.
m/n walks out of his room, looking more presentable but also looking like he was going to cut a bitch. (in every case, minju.)
"give me that," m/n swiped minju's mug from her hands, taking a deep gulp of her bitter coffee. he ignored minju's scathing remark and turned to beomgyu, unstartled. "will pancakes be okay, beomgyu-ssi?" his voice took a much softer tone than when he spoke to minju.
"yes please, and i'd rather you'd just call me beomgyu, m/n-ssi." beomgyu smiled.
"then i would insist that you'd do the same, beomgyu-ah." m/n smiled, shooing minju out of his kitchen and getting the ingredients out.
minju huffs and takes a seat next to beomgyu, crossing her arms.
"are you ready to carry on, beomgyu-ah?" minju asks, wiping her face with a wet wipe.
"gimme a sec," beomgyu rests his head on his arms as he watches m/n move around in the kitchen.
m/n's got his headphones in his ears as he hums delightfully, flipping pancakes with ease. he dances his way around the kitchen, pulling out syrup and strawberries and eating utensils, preparing breakfast with a soft smile on his face.
beomgyu can't help but watch the other male with a dumb smile on his face, not looking away even when there's a steaming hot plate of pancakes in front of him.
"i hope you like them," m/n smiles, taking out his left headphone. he fucking smiles at beomgyu, who feels his entire being heat up. (beomgyu tries to ignore the way his heart pitter-patters in his chest. that traitor.)
when beomgyu takes a bite, he moans in delight. m/n pretends to not notice, shoveling his food in his mouth. (his blush totally does not give him away.)
"so m/n-ah," minju starts, taking back her mug and refilling it. "when's your next class?"
"i'm free today. my chemistry professor called in sick so he just emailed everybody their latest assignments. i'm going to die." m/n cringed, taking a sip of his water.
"i bet physics is looking pretty good right now, huh?" minju had a triumphant look on her face.
"people who take physics usually don't have a life, or friends." m/n flicked her forehead, distracting her long enough to steal her coffee again. "no offense, beomgyu-ah."
"none taken, m/n-ah." beomgyu shrugged his shoulders. "what do you study?"
"i'm making my life hard by majoring in dance with a minor in chemistry." m/n put his two thumbs, his entire being oozing with sarcasm. "commuting to two different campuses four times a week, what fun."
"that's like me!" beomgyu's eyes were a little wider. "i'm a vocal major with a minor in physics. moving between the two campuses is such a pain."
"does that mean you know soobin-hyung? i think he's a vocal major as well?" m/n asks.
"bunny-hyung?" beomgyu's eyes glaze over in realization. "he takes care of me, you know, being one year older. does that mean you're friends with yeonjun-hyung? he still owes me twenty dollars."
"soobin-hyung owes me fifty!" m/n almost yells. "but it's okay because he buys me lunch every other day."
"oh my god, they're perfect for each other." beomgyu rolls his eyes, stabbing his pancake with his fork.
"they're disgusting. i hate seeing them meet up, like they haven't seen each in a million years when in reality it's been like four hours." m/n agrees, wrinkling his nose.
minju looks between the two males, wondering how they could be so oblivious towards one another.
"they're idiots. idiots who hopelessly crush on each other." minju complained under her breath. she held up her phone, pretending to use it as a mirror, only to snap a pic of m/n and beomgyu interacting with each other, bright smiles on both of their faces.
m/n briefly looked at her, a weird look on his face.
"you'll thank me later." she smiled innocently, tapping her phone with a wink.
#beomgyu#choi beomgyu#txt male reader#kpop male reader#txt x male reader#kpop x male reader#fluff#beomgyu x male reader#choi beomgyu x male reader#male reader scenario#txt#male reader insert
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Kind Stranger|Part 5|GBD
Read Part 1 Here
Read Part 2 Here
Read Part 3 Here
Read Part 4 Here
Tags: @evergreendolan @someonetogray @vintagedolan @prettyboydolan @dolansficsandpics @graysavant @baby-turtles
Kate’s eyes dubiously darted between the luxurious properties on the rich side of LA. When her phone pinged and told her she had made it to her destination, she swallowed hard. Her nerves about potentially hooking up with Grayson were replaced by new worries. Her fingers inched the steering wheel along a long, shrub lined driveway up to a bright white, huge house. Kate unplugged her phone from the center console in her car and sat back, she looked up to eye the house before going back to her phone to double check the address. It was right.
Suddenly, doubts filled her mind. Maybe Grayson sent her the wrong address? Maybe he lived with his parents? But he said he was from New Jersey. Maybe..well maybe… Kate’s eyes shot back and forth, taking in her scenery while thoughts raced through her mind. She noticed some movement in a second story window and realized she had been sitting in her car for too long. She forgot to check her hair before she gingerly stepped out of the car. She was a petite woman, but that moment made her feel small. She felt like Alice in Wonderland, like she ate something that shrunk her while the rest of the world grew. She slowly pushed one foot in front of the other and pulled herself to the front door.
Her worries were quelled slightly by the sight of Grayson’s bright smile through the glass in the front door. Grayson’s teeth nearly matched the color of white t-shirt, and even from a distance Kate could recognize the small gems on his incisors. She liked puzzles, and he was an enigma—a sweet enigma. Her sweet enigma swung the door open and greeted her with a warm hug that she gladly reciprocated. Grayson breathed it in again—that familiar sweet, citrus scent. As if on cue, both went back to the cabin of his van, with Grayson’s hand in her hair, and their lips softly attached.
Grayson pulled back from the hug, somewhat abruptly, not wanting to get lost in his physical excitement or indulgent emotions. He felt the heat in his face against the cold air-conditioned temperature of his entryway. “What’s up? I hope you’re hungry?” Grayson closed the front door behind her, not turning to maintain eye contact with her. “I always am, did you order something?” Kate smiled brightly at him but did not move from where her feet were planted on the ground. “I made something,” Grayson grinned proudly and walked forward, silently urging her to follow.
Kate followed Grayson across the first floor of his house. The stone fireplace, high ceilings, and upscale decorations demanded something better than her tank top and shorts. She felt foreign here, as if she was taken out of her own life and placed here, a well-intentioned but confused visitor. Grayson had been speaking as he walked her through the house, but Kate was too busy ogling at her surroundings to focus on his words. Grayson led her to a small back patio with a table and chairs. Kate realized her cue to sit was when he pulled a single chair and held it out for her with his wide smile and perky cheeks.
Kate sat softly in the chair and laughed softly when he pushed her toward the table. She looked up at him from where she sat, his hands still on the crest of her chair. “This house… is it just you and your brother here?” Her mouth turned into a small gape of surprise when Grayson nodded, “Yeah, it’s just me and Ethan here.” She nodded softly while Grayson ran a hand through his hair. His gaze fell to the floor. He paused shortly before adding, “We’re renting this place. Our house is under construction right now.” Kate noticed his words get softer as he finished his sentence.
His eyes returned from the floor to find hers again, a nervous chill ran down his spine. His smile was unusually close lipped. “What do you want to drink?” Kate chuckled softly, “You’re a good host.” Grayson bowed his head softly, taking the compliment, before he winked subtly in her direction. He immediately wondered if people still winked at each other. “Can I just have a glass of water?” Grayson nodded, “Absolutely, I’ll be right back.”
Grayson stepped back into the house and Kate sat alone with her thoughts. Her mind wandered back to the house. How were Grayson and his brother able to afford to rent this? And buy another house? And why did he not want to talk about it? She felt like she wasn’t in on a joke. She felt like she had wandered into someone else’s territory. This wasn’t someone else’s territory; this was Grayson’s territory. The Grayson she met at the beach wouldn’t rent a mansion in the hills. Did this qualify as a mansion?
Before she could lose herself any further in her thoughts, Grayson walked through the backdoor carrying a tray with a glass of water, a can of diet root beer, two plates, a large bowl of salad. Kate shot up from her seat to take the plates from the tray and place them on the table. Grayson thanked her and placed the rest of their meal on the table. Sitting her seat, across from Grayson with a giant salad behind them, Kate felt confused. A hot guy invites her over when no one is home…to eat a salad with her. He was an enigma. “Do you cook often?” Does a salad count as cooking? It must when you’re talking to a guy like Grayson.
Grayson nodded while taking his portion, “Yeah, I’ve been cooking for me and my brother since we moved to LA.” God damn she looked pretty in the sunlight. Grayson watched the light dance on her eyes from across the table.
“Is it fun for you? Do you try new things?” Kate filled her mouth after taking a mouthful of lettuce, appreciating the light summer breeze flowing through Grayson’s hair. She felt her heart smiled when his dimples showed up when he started to answer, his eyes turning up. “Yeah, I went vegan a few months ago. I’ve started tracking my nutrients and figuring out how to turn my favorite foods vegan. It’s so much easier than you’d think.”
Kate let her lips slide into a mindless smile, basking in the light his heart gave off when he talked about something that really meant something to him. A person with passion was attractive. “So, you’re a vegan and you care deeply about your health,” Kate caressed the side of her water glass mindless, feeling the cold drops fall on her hot skin. “But you drink diet root beer?” She did not try to disguise the skepticism in his voice.
“Yes I do!” Grayson’s voice rang in the backyard, exasperated. “It’s better than full sugar.” He held his can up near his face, in some sort of impromptu demonstration of nothing. He noticed Kate’s snicker and realized that once again, she was poking fun at him. He took a sip from the can and placed it down on the table. “I don’t quite know about that” her voice was made of equal parts playfulness and suspicion. “Well I know about it,” Grayson draped an arm around the back of his chair. “Not really,” Kate shook her head softly, “I’m the scientist,” she pointed to chest with a dainty finger, “I know about it.” She assured him confidently, Grayson had to dart his eyes back up to her face when she spoke to avoid looking at her chest. Grayson tried to think of a rebut to quip back but was disturbed by a rustle in the bushes.
He and Kate turned their heads in sync to the back corner of the yard to discover Ethan carrying a bicycle across the fence line. Ethan looked up to make eye contact with both Grayson and his date, and immediately realized what he was walking in on. Momentarily, Ethan wondered if Grayson had told her already. Ethan leaned his bike against the side of the house and walked up to the table of lovebirds. Grayson internally swore at his brother and wondered how far Ethan would fly if Grayson threw him as hard as he could. Kate took a breath, stunned at just how ‘twin’ the twin brothers really were.
“I’m Ethan,” he nodded in Kate’s direction between glancing at his brother: recognizing that Grayson was dying slowly inside. “Kate,” she smiled politely up at him. Grayson slouched in his chair slightly, huffing small breaths and contemplating how much the strength of the wind would change Ethan’s flight pattern. “Sorry for disturbing you guys, I was just coming in from a bike ride,” his apologized to Kate but kept Grayson in the peripheral of his vision. “It’s fine,” Kate was sweet and reassuring. She was also pretty: Ethan could see why Gray liked her. Ethan felt the sweat drip down his face from his bike ride; he ran a hand through his hair to push it back, momentarily glancing at the ground. He stopped for a moment, noticing a throng of thick skin cover one of Kate’s ankles. Ethan’s brow furrowed as he took in a knot of scars wrapping around her left side. Kate sat straight up against the back of her chair and pushed her ankles underneath her chair, breaking Ethan’s gaze. She sucked in a harsh breath and looked at Gray while Ethan’s eyes fell on the pair again. Grayson’s embarrassment was growing at an exponential rate. “We were actually just finished eating,” Grayson stood up from his seat, “Why don’t you help me bring the plates inside Ethan?” Grayson gritted his teeth into something like a smile, hoping his twin understood he was being told to do it, not asked. The pair started clearing the table when Kate asked, “Do you have a bathroom I could use?” “Take a left at the kitchen and then it’s the second door on the right.” Grayson’s normal, low but sweet voice returned.
Kate wandered back into the house, looking a bathroom. She stopped at the kitchen island, noticing a video camera and small microphone sitting on the surface. She looked up again and noticed the same massive stone fireplace, looming over her from the dining table. Peering closer, she noted a couple of tripods leaning against the corner of the dining room. She followed Grayson’s directions to the hallway, where she noticed a couple of camera bags strewn on the floor.
“How could I tell her when you were staring like that?” Grayson gritted his teeth and waved his hands at his brother. “I’m sorry but how can you not expect me to stare when her leg looks like that? I feel bad but it’s true.” Ethan retorted. Grayson groaned lowly, crossed his arms, and leaned back against the counter. “Why is it like that?” Ethan’s voice no longer held the accusatory tone. “I don’t know,” Grayson looked down at the floor, “I keep wanting to ask her. I mean” he signed and shrugged, “I know she has a problem; I just don’t know what it is.”
Kate stepped into the kitchen to view this scene: a disheveled, discouraged Grayson and a sweaty, antagonistic Ethan. Kate smiled softly when Grayson looked up to see her, a matching expression forming on his face. Feeling, once again, like he was in someone else’s spaces, Ethan politely stepped out of the room.
“Everything okay with you two?” Kate hesitantly stepped toward Grayson’s place at the counter.
Grayson nodded unconvincingly, “Yeah, everything’s aright.”
“I know you said you guys fight a lot—” “—I have something to tell you”
“oh,” Kate’s mouth fell and she swallowed slowly. Grayson’s palms felt a layer of sweat drape over them as his heartbeat heightened. He took a deep breath, but his thoughts were interrupted by Kate’s words, “I know.”
Grayson’s eye brows raised as his jaw fell slightly, “You know?” his heart beat slowed but the sweat from his skin continued to drain into his palms.
Kate took her own deep breath and nodded slowly. She could not bare to look at him, so she picked a banana in the fruit bowl on the counter and stared plainly at it as she rambled, “I know. Or at least. I think I know. And it’s okay. It really is. I get it. It’s LA. I’m not in Philly anymore. This place is different. You’re different. But you’re nice. And I like you. And I think this could go somewhere. And I don’t know really know what I think of it. But I guess I’m open to it. You’re sweet. I never thought I’d end up with… It’s just new for me.”
Grayson’s left eye brow raised slightly, staring at her intently as she continued to talk to a bowl of fruit. His heart nearly fell to a complete stop when the next words came out of her mouth.
“I know you’re a porn star.” She breathed out quickly and swallowed, “I just can’t figure out…is Ethan involved?”
Grayson’s jaw gaped open. His eyes darted around the room, while thoughts raced around his brain. The air around his face grew stagnant while he tried to find words. Kate’s gaze shifted from the banana to Grayson and back to the banana. She felt her face go warm and bit her lip hard, looking back up at Grayson. Grayson felt his body go cold and mustered out the brain power to say, “No.” Kate angled her face, pulling back slightly.
“Um.. we’re not pornstars.” Grayson started plainly, breathing in between each word. He felt like he was choosing each word as it was coming out of his mouth, a slow and painful way of delivering news. “We’re Youtubers. We make videos. We have been for nearly six years now. We have like 11 million fans on YouTube. So yeah not porn…but you weren’t that far off, I guess…” Grayson found his own eyes latched onto the banana in the fruit bowl.
The air stood in the room. Kate’s brain couldn’t think straight when all of the blood rushed to her cheeks. Grayson’s grip on the counter tightened while his back teeth chattered. Kate shifted her weight from one foot to another, raising her gaze to look back at Grayson while he started to speak again, “I wanted to tell you. So you could maybe look it up for yourself. So, you could have a chance to figure things out for yourself before anything really …happened…. between….us…”. Grayson struggled to remember the reasons Ethan had preached at him last weekend.
Kate nodded slowly and met his eyes when Grayson finally looked up at her. His eyes were darker than usual, like their light had partially gone out. His face fell, where his cheeks usually balled up under his eyes. Grayson’s own brain nearly committed a mutiny. There he was, standing in his kitchen with a pretty girl. A nice girl. A smart girl. A great girl. And he couldn’t enjoy it because he had to stand in an awkward silence and explain what he did for a living. He was a normal guy. A normal 20-year-old dude who should be able to meet a normal girl without these problems.
“Thanks for telling me,” Kate’s voice was soft. Her face matched the color of strawberries. “Maybe it’s best I go home, but I’ll um… I’ll look that stuff up and I’ll let you know what I think?” She wasn’t even sure what that meant, just that leaving that kitchen felt like the necessary course of action. Grayson cleared his throat and nodded. He stood up straight, taking his hands off the counter and crossing them. “That sounds good, feel free to let me know when you want to ...um do something again.” This was pathetic. He was pathetic. He had so much time to practice this and THIS is the best he could come up with. An awkward kitchen with a lack luster promise of another date.
Kate drove home in a daze. The highway must have taken her home because she did not have the mental capacity to process the kitchen debacle. She accused her gorgeous of date of being a porn star in his own home. Dread filled the pit of her stomach, sloshing around as she walked through her front door.
She grabbed her computer out of her backpack and opened it up. She searched his name, and despite his words, she was surprised at the amount of hits popping up. Maybe this was just something people did in LA? Maybe everyone was just an internet person? Kate thought about what would happen if she googled the guy who worked at the deli down the street, or the woman living downstairs. Are they internet personalities too? In the midst of her daze, Kate did what Ph.D. students do best: research.
She watched, read, and listened to all things Dolan until the sun went down. Her reaction happened in waves. At first, she laughed. She watched a young Grayson, with a much different haircut bounce around her screen. She met a younger Grayson and a mop-headed Ethan with a streak of colored hair. They look like the rejected members of One Direction. She felt slightly proud, Grayson was clearly a good person—or at least online Grayson was a good person. He was noncontroversial, funny, and wholesome.
The amount of content started to get under her skin. She found a documentary for his late father. She didn’t even know his father had passed. Grayson never mentioned it. She shifted and scrolled back farther, wanting to avoid anything person. The attempt was futile, shortly after the landed herself on a video of Grayson describing in detail how he bullied during his first few months of high school. Kate recoiled on her couch. She had been ridiculed in high school. As girl growing up in West Philly, an affiliation for books and facts didn’t produce many friends. She turned to Google, only to find an even more tangled web of disturbing rumors, speculation, and conspiracy theories.
Her stomach turned. Did Grayson want her to find this? Is that what he meant? Did he want her to know everything? If he wanted to open up to her, he could have just told her… But maybe this is how it’s done in LA? Her skin felt dirty. Her mind felt dirty. This was wrong. You don’t just research everything about someone else…She closed her computer and stuffed it back into her backpack.
She dug her phone out of her purse for the first time since coming home to see at three missed calls from Grayson. On the other side of LA, Grayson was obsessing over saying the wrong thing. He felt like he had pushed her away. His stomach knotted in confusion, concern, and anguish when she left. In the time she was gone, the knot only grew heavier. Grayson felt like he lost something he never had. He called her, expecting to get her voicemail again. He had written down what he wanted to say, a small message to say he wanted to know everything was okay and to let him know when she could. The knot in his stomach tightened when she picked up the phone.
“Hello?” Her voice was soft like a summer breeze but weighed down by the sadness in the back of her mind.
“Hi Kate,” Grayson’s voice was shaky on the phone. He quickly crumped his pathetic excuse of a script up and swallowed hard. Kate closed her eyes on the other end, feeling terrible for whatever emotional position Grayson was in right now. Kate only picked up the phone to quell the storm brewing inside of Grayson. But now that they were listening to each other’s voices, neither one knew how to give or get what they were looking for. “Are you okay?” Grayson started, “I know this must be a lot to take in” Yeah that wasn’t bad. Maybe he wasn’t going to completely fuck this up.
“I’m…..” Intimidated? Lost? Scared? Confounded? Dizzied? “Confused” she decided on. “I guess. I uh wasn’t sure what you wanted me to see or not. There’s so much out there Grayson.”
Grayson swallowed hard, his heart diving into the knot in his stomach when she spoke his name. Wasn’t it just last night that she spoke his name and made his heart flutter like a thousand butterflies escaping a paper bag. “I know there is. Six years is a long time,” he bit his lip, “Just uh—know that I’m here when you’re ready… to talk or to ask, whatever I can do to help this makes sense.” To help me make sense.
“Will do,” Kate took in a breath that Grayson could hear over the phone. “I won’t be a stranger.” Grayson’s heart perked up slightly but fell again when he heard the dial tone as she hung up. His head hung low, feeling as thought the world had just proved him wrong. Was Grayson Dolan a normal guy? Could he not separate himself from his online presence?
On the opposite side of LA, Kate’s heart hung low in her chest. She tossed her phone to the side and laid on her couch. She watched her ceiling fan spin, feeling dizzied both inside and out. She decided taking a shower would clear her head and help her get some sleep at night.
Sleep was the last thing on Grayson’s mind. Grayson grabbed the keys to his Porsche before he could develop a real plan. He felt the feelings of self-doubt continue to grow in his stomach. He broke the speed limit on the freeway, a part of him thinking that if he could defy tangible rules then maybe the feeling in his stomach would stop taking hold in his brain. Every piece of his body, mind, and heart were fighting to decide on how to best approach this. Should he apologize? Should he talk her through the past six years? Should he blame Ethan for telling him to tell her?
Before he knew it, Grayson found himself at Kate’s front door. He knocked, assertively, and let the warm, California nighttime air fill his lungs. She opened the door, and Grayson began speaking the second he heart the door hinges squeak. “I was wrong. I was wrong to tell you like that. I was wrong to lie to you, kind of, that day , at the aquarium. I was wrong to not give you more information. I was wrong to just send you on your way like that. Like I expected you to know what to do with that information. I don’t even know what you were supposed to do. But Ethan said that you should know before things get too far. But I really like you and …you’re…so—” Grayson’s mouth fell open slightly when he fully recognized the image in front of him.
He stared at her, mouth agape. Her petite shoulders were dripping water onto her towel, that was slowly becoming more soaked. Her small frame was only covered by a white, terry cloth tower. Her dark hair looked nearly black when wet. Her collar bone and cleavage were exposed to him. Her big brown eyes looked up at him, dewier and kinder than ever before. Her small pink mouth sat pursed and pensive on her face. Grayson drank her in. The knot in his stomach gave way. He gazed up at her big brown eyes and then back at her perfect, pink mouth. And before he knew what he was doing, he pulled her in. He cupped her face in his hands and moved his lips down to meet hers. They crashed together. He kissed her hungrily, not caring about the growing desire in his pants from not touching a woman in months. Unlike their last kiss, she did not pull away softly and quickly. Her lips reached for Grayson’s almost as fervidly as his sought hers. One of his traveled down to wrap around her waist, wanting to hold her tiny being as close against him as possible. No longer having to hold her towel up, one of her free hands pulled at the hair on the nape of his neck, demanding he come down further to meet her. Her other hand fingered his jaw and his neck. Her head tilted more to give him more access to her mouth as he began to explore her lips with his tongue.
For the second time that day, his heartbeat overcame him. But this time, he didn’t care. He drank her in. Intoxicated by the idea that a normal guy could find a normal girl, and maybe they could be something. Something like a sweet enigma.
#grayson#grayson dolan#dolan twins#ethan#ethan dolan#fanfic#romantic#fluff#grayonxoc#youtuber#fanfiction#sweet#funny#idk what to do here#tbh i make these up every time#does anyone read these#if you read these then send me a banana emoji in anon
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Midnight In Sheffield (VII)
Pairing: Alex Turner/Reader
Summary: When a soon-to-be-wedded insomniac author heads back home to visit her parents, she comes across the likes of a mysterious musician whilst on her sleepless escapade in the AM.
Notes: I took a bit longer to write this chapter, and thank you all so much for the patience. If you didn’t know yet; I got accepted into a writing school! I can’t express the gratitude I feel right now, I owe it all to you. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy.
Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!
Chapter VII - I Wanna Be Yours
Her feet dragged across the pavement, and this time they showed no hesitance because they knew exactly where they were going.
She didn’t find the building she was looking for the first corner she rounded, so she took a detour, until the lights seemed to change and the asphalt disappeared and she nearly tripped over the uneven brick road. A group of men turned their heads when they’d heard her swear loud enough she was sure she’d woken up the deaf grandma that lived in the attic at the end of the street.
As soon as she met his eyes in the pub, she wasted no time do drag him away from a very confused Matt, out to the hallway where the bathrooms were. They were occupied by couples doing, well, what you can imagine they were doing, as well as ladies trying to not-so-subtly sniff a questionable substance from its counters, but she couldn’t be bothered right now. Alex didn’t seem surprised to see her, and it irritated her how calm he was while she was practically having a mental breakdown.
“Guess who I met this morning,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
He raised a brow disdainfully, almost offended by the way she was manhandling him and throwing vague questions at him. But she didn’t waver, so he thought he’d humour her anyway. “The wedding planner? I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to be a bit more specific,” he replied.
“Oh, I’ll be a bit more specific,” she ground out, “I was just about to head down for breakfast, when I found that my mum had guests over. A couple, about her age, people I’d never even met before. But somehow, they seemed familiar to me.”
Alex hesitated. He had a feeling where this was going, yet remained silent.
“That’s when I learned their last names. Turner. And they told me all about their missing son, and how he hadn’t even left a note saying he was leaving, and how worried they were. That the only reason they hadn’t called the police yet was because you’d pulled off stunts like this before. But that now, you’ve been gone for years. Without a word.”
“I don’t think it’s any of your business, really-“
“Oh, don’t you fucking start with me, Turner. You made it my business when you started interfering with mine.”
It took her a moment to realize why her mouth was tingling. He had his lips pressed against hers, and they were warm and inviting. He tasted like what she’d expected him to this time around; expensive whiskey with a hint of smoke. His eyes were closed, and without those piercing brown orbs staring back up at her, she almost thought she was kissing someone else.
Hang on a minute.
She shoved him back, “You can’t just do that!”
He raises his eyebrows innocently. “Why not?”
“You’re trying to distract me!”
“Whether or not you get distracted by me is irrelevant, love. I was just hoping we could have a good time, and I was, until you nearly knocked me off my feet and dragged me out into some dirty hallway.”
She glared at him, “You deserved that. I’m engaged.”
Looking across the hall and around the bar, he casually shrugged. “I don’t see him anywhere. And I certainly didn’t hear you complaining last night.”
She felt it at the pit of her stomach when faced with reality; a deep, underlying sense of guilt. What had happened between her and Alex, was something she hadn’t ever felt before. And that scared her senseless. It shouldn’t happen. It couldn’t happen. And she had to make it very evident to him, that this could not go on this way. She had Mark, ad he was all she needed. He didn’t deserve this. Neither of them did.
“Alex, what happened yesterday, it was a mistake. I shouldn’t have let it get to that point, and I’m sorry I led you to believe that I felt that same interest in you that you have for me. It can’t happen again, and I hope you understand.”
He seemed indifferent, but his words were harsh as he took a step closer to her, up until the point where she could feel his hot breath fanning across her already burning cheeks. “You can blame it on wedding nerves, or insomnia, or insecurities all you want, love. But I think you and I both know that last night really meant something. I can’t blame you for lying to me, I really don’t mind. I’ve had enough lies thrown at me before. The thing is, though, I won’t let you lie to yourself. You’re better than that, smarter than that. And most importantly, you deserve better than to be in a situation where you have to lie to yourself to not give into those feelings.”
“Alex-“
“I’ll tell you all about my parents. About what’s going on. About why everything seems to be stuck in time when the moon finally hits the sky. I’ll tell you, but only if you’ll tell me how you really feel.”
“I…” She hesitated.
All she could think about was that night Mark walked away from her. She thought of how sad her mother would be to hear she wouldn’t get married after all. She thought of Rachel and James, who would be telling her they told her so, and then laugh about it all behind their back.
She thought of what might happen to her if Mark wasn’t there. How was she going to get around?
She thought of all that time wasted, trying to make something work that might not have ever been intended to work at all.
“…I don’t know what to feel right now.”
She looked up at him in search for answers, but he wasn’t willing to give her any.
“I feel… scared, confused… and most of all, fucking tired.”
She was glad to see the corner of his mouth quirk up at that at the very least, and comforted when he slung his arm around her shoulders, and said, “Let’s go get you a coffee, then.”
***
Alphonse was a trained chef from years of hard work at the cook’s school in Paris. He knew how to make any dish, in any way, shape or form, and most importantly; how to make one with love. It might sound cheesy, but everyone knows that’s the key ingredient to a successful meal.
Alphonse was very good at cooking and working with love. He was also very good with the ladies, if he was allowed to say so himself. But he had to admit, his temperament was short, and he was awfully bad at being patient with people who were subconsciously withholding affection from one another.
So, when Mr. Turner had stepped back into the restaurant with his Cherie asking for a cup of coffee and looking mighty burdened with heavy topic, he scraped back his chair, and stormed off into the kitchen to angrily grind some coffee beans.
“Is he all right?” she wondered, as she hung her coat over her chair.
Alex shrugged it off.
Furthermore, even though their cups nearly cracked from the force Alphonse smacked them onto their table with, the restaurant was as quiet as ever at this hour.
“I suppose I’ll leave you to it, then,” the chef grumbled, and strutted back into his kitchen.
She turned back to the steaming dark liquid, trying to focus her attention on the swirls her spoon were creating instead of the tense feelings she got from being alone with Alex once more.
“It’s a long story,” he finally spoke up, “But I need you to look at me while I tell it.”
She did as asked.
***
“When we were still in school, we’d already started the band. Played a few gigs here and there. Managed to catch the eye of a record company once someone had put some of our demos online. We got lucky, and managed to release a few albums with them. But fame isn’t all that fun anymore when your last record flopped and your manager is trying to sell you out.
I’d gone home for a few weeks to think things through; what I wanted to do with what was left of my career. So I went for a walk, late at night.”
She gave him a knowing look, and he nodded conformingly.
“I met Miles at Mardy’s. A pub I’d never seen before, in a street I’d never walked through. I thought I’d seen all of Sheffield when I was younger, but it turns out I was wrong. For when the clock strikes an uncertain hour, and you watch the ground shift beneath your feet when you’re not paying attention, you walk right into what appears to be a glorified version of the twenties.”
She recalled their gig on that night she’d also met Miles. “So your guitars…”
“I’d just taken them from home,” he confirmed, “No electric guitars invented yet at that time, so I had to bring them myself. Strangest thing is, the people don’t question it at all. They just think it’s another fancy new instrument that hasn’t officially hit the market yet.”
“So, what? You just decided to continue your life at night here?” she asked.
“It was simpler. I don’t have to run from the paparazzi, or do interviews where people question my sanity all the time, or get dragged for who I date or knock about with. We released an album with instruments and music that’s way ahead of its time here, and we’re seen as legends. It’s as simple as that.”
“But, Alex… I think this album could easily hit the top charts in the regular world.”
He scoffed, “They said that about our last album. And the one before that. And when they don’t do as well as you’d expect them to, people will say it’s ‘underrated’, but you know deep inside you could’ve done better.”
“Music is about more than just hitting the top charts,” she reminded him.
“I know. Yet it appears that the feeling of validation through it has left a bigger mark on me than I had expected. I expected more from my own music, and was disappointed when I couldn’t deliver. I’ve finally found a place where everyone enjoys my music again.”
“So, what? You just decide to spend the rest of your life here, a fantasy world in an attempt to hide from reality? From your family, all the people who care about you?”
“It’s not as simple as that.”
“It’s not as simple? I think you just made it very clear how simple this all really is,” she said.
“Matt thought the same thing. Until he started playing with us for the first few nights, and even he was convinced. It’s hard to explain. It’s why he didn’t want you to stay around for too long when we hung out in the pub. This place gets to you.”
“He was just convinced after a few good shows?”
“I don’t think you understand,” he said, “If you stay here too long, if you spend too many nights in this version of Sheffield, you won’t be as willing to leave. It’s like an addiction; a place where all your dreams come true, if only for a little while, a few hours maybe. But you just can’t stay away from it. Once it takes hold of you, you can’t escape.”
Her brows furrowed. “What are you trying to say? You’re stuck here like this forever?”
His eyes cast downwards. “I couldn’t say. But I’ve never had good reason to leave.”
Her heart was swelling in her chest. “And what if you did have a reason?”
“What?”
“What… What if I wanted you to leave… with me?”
It was as if a spark flashed in his eyes, but then quickly snuffed out. “Don’t do that,” he huffed, “Don’t give me hope. You should be out there, living your life without chasing after the ghost of a man and blaming it on your insomnia.”
She took hold of his hand across the table, and squeezed it tightly, too afraid he’d take off if she didn’t. “I should be out there, living my life. But so should you. You’ve made me feel things I thought I was unable to feel, and I wouldn’t have experienced any of this if it wasn’t for you. You can still escape from this, Alex. I know you can. I can’t do this without you.”
“It’s not that simple, love.”
“Why not?”
“You shouldn’t want me.”
“Don’t you want me, then?”
His brown orbs lit up passionately, as he leaned forwards and captured her lips in a kiss. “Of course. I want to be yours,” he muttered.
He deepened the kiss, gliding his tongue against her bottom lip suggestively. She opened her mouth and her tongue met his, sliding against it and drawing a quiet moan from her throat. He held her cheek in his hand and slid his thumb over her soft skin gently.
When she pulled back, she had finally made up her mind. “I need to speak with Mark.”
***
@alexbandguy86 @bettyschwallocksyee @fookingsummertime @juicebox-baby@darksydork7 @edgythought @ssadderdaze @h0twasabi @rogerseyeliner @arctic-monkcys @toolateformcrtooearlytoleaveemo @rosemallowss
#Arctic Monkeys#Arctic Monkeys Fanfic#Alex Turner Fanfic#Alex Turner#Alex Turner x reader#Alex Turner/Reader#The Last Shadow Puppets#TLSP#AM#Jamie Cook#Nick O'Malley#Matt Helders#Miles Kane#Humbug#Suck It And See#whatever people say i am that's what i'm not#favorite worst nightmare#Midnight In Sheffield
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Feelings | T.H.
Summary: Tom and Melina have feelings for one another but are lost in expressing this through words. Do actions actually speak louder than words?
Pairing: Tom Holland x OC (who’s black, so you’re welcome ladies)
Word count: 2.3k
A/N: I meant to finish this yesterday but got tied up yesterday with schoolwork. So, I apologize. This is a contribution to the Quarantine Writing Challenge created by @chaneajoyyy and @shaekingshitup. Thank you for adding me to my very first writing challenge. Also, I recommend you listen to “Feelings” by Lauv; it’s a masterpiece and the inspiration for this fic.
Is my love too much?
Or is it just enough for you, for you?
'Cause it's getting late, would you like to stay? Ah
'Cause I'm bad at reading signs
All evening, Tom had been sneaking glances Melina. The tempered glass on her prevented him from viewing her observations but he knew it had to be either Tumblr or Twitter; both platforms had a tendency of stretching her lips to form that soft smile of hers he’d grown to adore over the last few months. On top of that, she would hold her phone up to his face once in a while to grant Tom the chance of witnessing what made her snort.
Although secretly watching her was simple, Tom found it difficult to prevent his thoughts from skedaddling all over the place like ants running from human feet. He was attempting to gather the courage in revealing his true feelings to her but a second of his mouth opening effected the various “what if” scenarios he created.
His ringtone for Harrison went off, pulling the two best friends out of their silent world. Tom reached for his phone on the small coffee table but paused his actions once he noticed the time. “Uh, Mel?”
“Hmm…?” she hummed. She was quick to retreat back into her personal bubble.
“You do realize it’s 2 in the morning, right?” Tom continued.
“W—” Melina paused her video on Twitter to pull the control center down on her phone. “Crap! I gotta go!” She stood from the couch to begin gathering her scattered belongings.
She was right that she needed to leave… but Tom didn’t want that. Sure, they hardly spoke to one another for the rest of the night after watching the 2-hour long Netflix film but he wanted her company a bit longer. In addition to that, it was too early in the morning for him to be questioning her whereabouts.
A lightbulb went off in his head but it was the idea itself that rapidly pumped the blood to his heart. “You know… you can stay the night?”
Melina scoffed. “Tom, no. We’re not having this discussion.”
“Um, yeah we are. It’s late Mel. And I don’t want you out.”
“I know how you feel, dad, but I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl.” She slightly rotated her head to wink his way. The irony of her statement was that she was petite for her age. Most of their friends were five-foot-five and above while Melina was often mistaken for an elementary student trying to fit in with the “big kids.”
Tom shook his head, even though she couldn’t see him. “Melina, no. Stay the night.”
“And miss the comfort of my bed? I don’t think so but thank you for the offer Tommy.”
Before Tom knew it, he was taking long strides to the front door and snatching her leather coat off the coat rack before her arm could reach out. Melina only raised one of her perfectly shaped brows she managed to do on her own in response.
“Okay?” she voiced. “What’re you doing?”
In that moment, Tom realized how much of a freak he perceived himself to be. He resembled a robot by shoving the item in her direction for her to take. “Um, I think it’s too late. And, I was wondering if you wanted to stay the night? It’s just I worry about you as your friend this time of the day.”
It took her a moment to respond but once she finally gave him his answer, he subtly released a breath he didn’t remember inhaling.
“You know, if you asked like that in the beginning, I would’ve said yes.” Melina smirked as she slid off her shoes. “You’re weird sometimes.” She left him by himself, claiming she needed to use the restroom.
But I, I wanna do whatever you wanna do
If you wanted to, girl, we could cross that line
Even after two years of living in London, Melina continued to struggle in socializing. If she wasn’t lounging around in Tom’s apartment, the best friends were at the hottest club with their group of friends. No bad blood existed between her and the others; it was just the environment they chose to reside in for the evening.
Tom always noticed this quiet side of her. How she seemed to shrink in posture with slumped shoulders, even though she was gorgeous in her club attire. How she practiced her nervous habit of fiddling with her hands when it wasn’t her to turn to talk yet. How she sidled up against Tom every chance she got if people (mainly men) needed to squeeze by in reaching their destination. To tell you the truth, Tom found these adorable and made it a mission to protect her every time they went out.
The group had split a few minutes prior with Melina and Tom making their way to the bar. After constant begging, Melina hit the dance floor. Tom and the others cheered her on for three songs until she grew tired and yearned for some water. Like the unspoken bodyguard he was, Tom followed her.
“That was fun.” She began. “I haven’t danced like that since my family reunion.” She flagged the bartender down with a raised palm. “Excuse me, can I get some water?”
The woman behind the counter nodded with a smile and proceeded to fix the drink. Melina didn’t hesitate to grasp the foggy, clear glass and chug a large amount of the cold liquid down her throat.
Tom chuckled. “And when was that?”
He watched her chocolate eyes shift to stare at the ceiling in deep thought. “Like July? Of 2018?”
“Aren’t those every year?” he wondered. Last time he remembers having this discussion with Melina, she stated her family met up in the middle of July at one of the local parks every year.
“Yeah but, my parents didn’t go last year and don’t plan on going again this year. I gotta ask my mom again w—”
The sudden pause in the short story encouraged Tom to look up from the bar and into Melina’s eyes. Only, she was looking beyond him with an expression representing discomfort.
“That guy’s been eying me all night. I don’t like it.” she disclosed.
Tom swiveled around in his seat to find the man she was talking to. His eyes were able to pinpoint the stranger instantly searching for another area in sight to claim for straing. “Oh yeah?”
“Mmhm.” Melina affirmed with a nod of her head. She gazed at the back of her best friends head, praying he wasn’t thinking about making a scene. That’s the last thing she wanted for him. “Hey Tom?”
“Yeah Love?” His eyes were back on her, softer than before when he reversed the role of eying the creeper.
Melina only pursed her lips in embarrassment. After the first club incident where an intoxicated man approached Melina and Tom stepped in to play the role of a protective boyfriend, it had become an unannounced habit to cozy up with one another to ward off the eyes of complete strangers. Still, Melina was anxious in requesting his form of rescuing.
“Come here, Darling.” Tom urged. One of his arms wrapped itself around her waist to twist her body so her back faced him. That same arm also maneuvered her to sit on his lap like a child posing with Santa Claus for a picture.
At this point in their friendship, Melina considered Tom to be her second home. Her immediate family lived thousands of miles away, calling her when they could on Whatsapp and bringing a smile to her face. Tom provided her the same form of comfort just about every day now that her life was here in London.
Realizing this, Melina rested her back against his chest as if he were a pillow. This was temporary but, she couldn’t help but want a little more.
But I feel 'em in my chest
A tiny war within
But when I pull you closer
Girl, I can't explain
Two months had passed but that didn’t stop the two from growing closer in physical contact. Behind closed doors, Tom did more of pulling her into his side when sitting on the couch and for some odd but cute reason, Melina felt the need to straddle his lap when presenting exciting news.
Today was Melina’s hair day and she needed help taking out the box braids she had installed over a month ago. If she took the braids out herself, it would’ve taken longer due to how exhausted she was again from another rough week at work. So, Tom was her next option.
“Sorry if I ripped you away from any plans you had.” She apologized for the fourth time that day.
Tom scoffed. “Darling, how many times do I have to tell you to stop apologizing? I’m currently on break from work and trust me, I’d rather be here than at my place by myself. Haz went out with the crew and I wasn’t up for that today.” He explained. “Besides, I’d rather be here with you.”
A tiny smile sufficed, which didn’t match the beating of her heart that suddenly felt as if it was trying to crawl out of her chest.
“Putting these in looks hard but taking them out? Different story.” Tom commented.
“You’re telling me. Which is why I have other people do it for me. I knew a girl who installed similar braids herself but… it didn’t really come out right in the back. I think it was her first time.”
“Reminds me of the first time Harry tried giving himself a trim.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. We ended up giving him a decent buzz cut.”
Her giggle had now become music to Tom’s ears. Whether it be her speaking, crying, or laughing, Tom wanted to record her voice and carry it with him for his travels away from home.
Home. She was now home to him. But how could he reveal that truth to her when his feelings ran deep and he didn’t want to ruin what they had?
He continued to remove her braids in tranquil silence while Melina pulled out her iPad to play a few levels of Homescapes. The further he moved up her head, the more Melina relaxed against his torso by slouching.
The close form of contact affected the temperature of his armpits. Tom was currently stuck on the level of Friendzoning where physical contact with Melina affected how his body responded to her touches. From sweaty armpits to a beating heart, Tom felt powerless in controlling his reactions. And it didn’t help that her head rested above his heart.
It was six-thirty when Tom was pulling the last braid from Melina’s natural hair. She was just shutting her eyes at this point with her iPad turned off and cradled under arms like a student on her way to class. Slumberland grasped her conscious mind once Tom’s fingers began massaging her scalp. Sure, it was dirty but it was necessary her head receive a good kneading from someone aside from herself.
“Feel good, Love?” he whispered.
She hummed in satisfaction. “I need this.”
And I know, and I know that it's on your mind
That it's on your mind when I kiss you
But I wanna do whatever you wanna do
“I like you. A lot.” Tom panted.
It was the first thing he blurted to Melina as soon as she opened the door to her apartment. He looked as if he’d ran the whole way with his disheveled hair, slightly wet face, and drenched-in-sweat T-shirt he the threw on.
“What?” Melina whispered. Her heart and mind were hoping he meant what he meant.
“I like you a lot. And I mean that as in I have a major crush on you. I have for a while.” He elaborated in between breaths.
Melina ushered him in with a wave of her hand. “Come in, Tommy.”
He stepped over the threshold into the warmth of her apartment. His nose immediately picked up the scent of seasoning for her famous enchilada’s. The ceiling lights were dimmed to create a relaxing vibe. Behind her living space, the tiny dining table was blanketed with a cream table cloth and a vase of flowers stood in the middle of it.
“I just had a good day today, that’s all. I wanted to give myself a bit of a celebration.” She weakly explained. This moment in particular was something she anticipated for the longest but not in the manner of her appearing to set up for a date that wasn’t with Tom. “Um, so you like me?”
“Yeah, I do.” He moved his eyes away from the setting to fully look at her. Her digits were fiddling with one another again and her eyes landed on the space between their feet. Tom rested his hand over hers to lace their fingers. “I just think you’re… beautiful inside and out. You make me happy every time I’m around and… and I just wanted you to know.” He braced himself for the next part. “But, if you don’t feel the same that’s totally fine.”
She chuckled. “Why wouldn’t I feel the same?”
He knew what she was doing. Things could get awkward when Tom had these truthful moments with people. She wanted to ease his feelings through jokes. “Darling, c—”
“I’m being serious. Why wouldn’t I feel the same about you, Tom? You’re everything I like in a guy. Fine as hell, sweet, funny, and all in all: a gentleman.”
They were holding direct eye contact now, a smirk resting on Melina’s lips. She was the one who eventually leaned in connect their lips. Eyes closed, Tom’s arm snaked itself around her waist to pull her closer while both of Melina’s arms wrapped around his neck.
He moved away first, resting his forehead against hers. “Is there room for one more person for your celebratory dinner.”
“There’s always room for one when I’m having a good day.” She giggled as he leaned down to peck her lips again.
#tom holland x reader#tom holland x oc#tom holland x black!reader#tom holland imagines#tom holland#peter parker x oc#peter parker x black!reader#peter parker x reader#spiderman fic#marvel#marvel fic#penning while black
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Who You Gonna Call?
A Ghost Hunting AU - 4.9k
[Read on Ao3]
A charity event brings together the two most notorious internet ghost hunting teams: Marjan and TK of the borderline irreverent Spirit Squad and Paul and Carlos of the historically accurate Paranormal Investigators. Their task: investigate Austin’s notoriously haunted Littlefield House. The twist: they have to swap partners for the night to do so. It should be entertaining, if nothing else.
Or, The Ghost Hunting AU literally no one asked for.
I didn’t write anything for Halloween because I’ve been busy with work and have a few other projects going on, but I did write this ghost hunting AU back in May. I figured I would share it here again because it definitely has the spooky vibes, plus some excellent TK & Marjan and Paul & Carlos friendships (plus flirting Tarlos!). Some of you may have seen this the first time around, but it was a while ago so who knows! Either way, I hope you enjoy! 👻
Oh, and Happy Halloween! 👻🎃
--------
A chorus of swearing greeted Grace as she unlocked her front door. She entered the kitchen to find her husband messing around with the Keurig, which was apparently the subject of his ire. She shook her head fondly and crossed the kitchen to wrap her arms around his waist, “Struggling there, my love?”
Judd relaxed ever so slightly at her touch, but didn’t back down, “The goddamn thing never works for me! I don’t understand why we can’t just have a regular coffee maker instead of this infernal thing.”
Grace scoffed, “We have that because it was a Christmas present from my parents, and because you broke the coffee maker, remember?”
Judd deflated a bit at this, but continued his grumbling, “I still think it’s too complicated. I just want some coffee and it’s messing with me I swear!”
Grace leaned around him and reached around the back to flip the power switch. The machine beeped and began to brew the pod Judd had put in the chamber. Judd turned to face her, face sheepish, “Have I told you lately how wonderful and talented you are?” he asked.
Grace laughed and leaned into him, “You may have yesterday, but it’s always good to hear. Now, what’s up with you that’s got you so flustered you can’t figure out a simple machine?”
Judd’s scowl returned, “I have that job tonight, and I’m not looking forward to it.”
Grace frowned, “The charity one? Why are you upset about that?”
“Because it’s a bunch of kids playing ghost hunters. They’re ‘youtube people,’ I’m sure they're going to think they’re too good for this and be whiny and just annoying kids in general.”
Grace burst out laughing and Judd looked at her, bewildered, “What’s so funny?” he demanded.
“I’m sorry Judd, I just didn’t realize I had married a Scooby-Doo villain. You do hear yourself, right? You’re about one rubber mask away from “you meddling kids” and frankly, I think it’s adorable.”
Judd tried to scowl, but he couldn’t hide pleasure that his wife’s laughter brought him. “Just you wait,” he told her, “they are going to be ridiculous and needy and probably get themselves into all sorts of trouble, and it’s going to be up to me to save their asses.”
Grace nodded with mock sympathy, “Well, I guess you’d better go before you’re late,” she said handing him the travel mug now filled with coffee, “you wouldn’t want to keep those meddling kids waiting.”
Judd shook his head as he leaned down to give his wife a kiss, “You’re a menace.”
“But you love me anyway.”
“That I do.”
---------
“We’re here at the hauntingly historical Littlefield House on UT’s campus. The house was--”
“Cut!” Marjan called, looking up from her camera. She raised an eyebrow at her partner, “Hauntingly historical? Really TK?”
“It’s alliteration, Marj. It’s good storytelling technique!”
“It’s cheesy is what it is. Why don’t you try it again without the cheese factor, or I can do the intro.”
“You did the intro last episode, we rotate these things Marjan.”
“But this is a special episode outside of our regular season, so our usual rules don’t apply.”
“You’re only saying that because you like the spotlight.”
“No, I’m saying that because you should give the people what they want!”
“That hurts, Marj.”
Marjan’s retort was interrupted by the appearance of two men weighed down by bags of equipment approaching the house. “Hello,” the taller of the two shouted as they grew closer, “you must be the Spirit Squad, TK and Marjan, right?”
The pair nodded and walked forward, intercepting the pair halfway down the front walk. “And you must be Carlos and Paul; the Paranormal Investigators. It’s good to meet you both,” TK said, reaching out to shake both their hands.
“The P.I.s for short,” Paul reminded him, returning his greeting.
There was a flurry of handshakes and polite greetings before they all turned to look at the building in front of them.
“Looks pretty imposing,” Paul noted, “are we sure there’s only one ghost in that whole place?”
Marjan shrugged, “Only one agoraphobic mental patient at least. Who’s to say what else?”
They all studied the house, a stately victorian, for a few more silent moments.
“Well,” said Carlos, breaking the silence, “shall we?”
TK gave an exaggerated arm flourish and a beaming smile, “After you.”
Paul and Carlos continued their journey up the walk and TK turned to join them, but paused when he saw Marjan shaking her head at him exasperatedly, “Two minutes and you’ve already started with the flirting,” she said mournfully, “Tonight is going to last forever, isn’t?”
“Lay off Marj, have you seen him? How could I not?”
Marjan took a deep sigh and looked up to the sky in exasperation, “What did I do wrong in a past life to get stuck with you?”
TK rolled his eyes, “Don’t even start, you know you love me.”
“Don’t get too cocky Casanova. There are plenty of windows in this place, a tragic accident might just happen.”
“You’d miss me.”
“But think about the peace and quiet I could have.”
---------
Judd sipped his coffee as he watched the 4 kids enter the property. He was so not looking forward to this. He understood why the university was hosting this; he just didn’t know why he had to be the one in charge of them. He hadn’t been exaggerating when he told Grace how much he was dreading tonight. He just knew this was going to be a long, pointless night. As they cleared the entrance and began looking around he heaved a weary sigh and set his mug down on top of the piano he had been leaning on and walked over to them.
“Welcome to the Littlefield House,” he said with what he hoped was a passable imitation of enthusiasm - or at least tolerance. “My name is Judd Ryder, head engineer for UT’s campus. I’ll be your contact tonight. If you have any questions I’ll try to do my best to answer them and I’m going to go over some ground rules before you get started. Any questions so far?”
The small group all shook their heads and Judd carried on, “Good. Rule number 1 - don’t touch anything you don’t need to. Everything in this home is old, valuable, and much of it was donated by some of the University’s very generous benefactors. You break it, you buy it. Rule 2: don't do anything stupid. I'm not looking to spend tonight pulling anyone out of a hole or anything of the kind. Follow those two rules and we'll get along just fine. Any questions?"
Carlos nodded, “Mr. Ryder,” he asked, “Would you mind giving us a little background on the house and it’s supposed haunting?”
Judd looked at him incredulously, “On camera?”
Carlos nodded patiently, “That is how we tell our stories sir. I think our viewers would appreciate having it come from an expert - it makes it all seem more reliable. I’m sure as a highly respected employee of the University you must have some first-hand knowledge of the history, and may have seen some of the instances first hand. Your input would be invaluable.
Judd straightened, “Well,” he began, “I suppose that I would be uniquely qualified.”
Carlos smiled warmly, “Excellent. Let’s get it set up.”
Judd was busy flattening out the wrinkles in his shirt; he didn’t notice the fist bump that Carlos and Paul subtly exchanged or the look that passed between TK and Marjan.
-----------
“The Littlefield house was built in 1893 for Civil War veteran George Littlefield,” Judd began, “at the time of its construction it cost $50,000 dollars to build. As I’m sure you can imagine, it would cost a pretty penny more to build today.”
“Three guesses which side he was on,” Paul muttered and Carlos swatted at him, motioning at Judd to continue.
“Major Littlefield even went as far as to have a Himilayan Cedar imported and planted on the property. It is still standing today and is one of the most distinctive trees on campus. You can see it through that window right there,” he said gesturing towards the window to their left, “When his wife Alice Littlefield died in 1935, she donated the house and its property to the University, or which she and her husband had always been big supporters. These days the ground floor has been maintained in its former glory for hosting events and tours, while the second floor houses offices.”
“What about the third floor?” TK asked from off-camera. It looks like there are turrets from the outside, are those accessible.
Judd looked thoughtful, “I think they might be used for storage. To tell you the truth, no one really goes up that far much. It gets real hot up there on those upper floors.”
“Can you tell us more about the spirit that supposedly resides here and the activity that people have witnessed?” Marjan prompted.
Judd nodded, “The ghost is said to be that of Alice Littlefield, the widow of Major Littlefield. People say that she still haunts this house as she never really left it even in life. Some say that she was agoraphobic, others say that her husband kept her locked in the attic. No one knows for sure, but everyone agrees that she didn’t get out much and that’s probably why she is still here.”
“What kind of experiences have people reported?”
Judd scoffed lightly, “people say that they have seen a ghostly figure walking past the windows at night or wandering the grounds. A few even claim they’ve heard the piano playing when there was no one there to play it.”
“To clarify, you mean this piano, right?” Carlos asked, panning towards the grand piano next to them.”
“That’s the one,” Judd confirmed with a nod.
“What about you Mr. Ryder, have you ever had any experiences with this spirit?”
Judd shook his head, “No, can’t say that I have,” he said evenly.
“Wonderful,” Carlos exclaimed, shutting off his camera, “That was great, thanks so much for your time Mr. Ryder.”
Judd nodded as they began sorting through equipment, “Not a problem. Listen, the university has me on call tonight for y’all, so if you need anything let me know. I’ll be around. And please,” he added as an afterthought, “don’t break anything. I hate filling out that paperwork.”
The group gave him solemn nods as he exited, sighing heavily and muttering something about kids under his breath.
The group watched him leave and then looked at each other, each trying their best to hide their grins.
“So,” TK asked, “shall we get started?”
---------
The deal was this: a charity had asked the two most popular ghost hunting teams on the internet to get together for a special fundraising episode, with a twist (to be decided by a vote from their viewers). A week of polling provided them with the result - the two teams were going to be partner swapping tonight.
According to charity’s PR rep, fans had commented that they wanted to see this partner swap because the two teams were so different. The P.I.s were very fact-driven; their show erred on the side of documentary. The Spirit Squad, on the other hand, was much more sensational. Sure they did the facts, but their show revolved a lot more around their antics than the history. Fans were eager to see what kind of dynamic a mashup would bring.
Which brings us back to this moment as the two teams divvy up their equipment and head to meet their new partners for the evening. TK hands a microphone pack to Marjan, humming to himself all the while. She levels a glare at him, “Would you stop that?”
“Stop what?”
“Stop being so pleased about this!”
“Marj,” TK began emphatically, “Of course I’m happy. I get to spend an evening with Mr. Paranormal Heartthrob over there. I’m fucking thrilled.”
Marjan rolled her eyes, “Great. While you are off doing salacious things on company time, I am going to be stuck with Mr. Encyclopedia.”
“Come on, he doesn’t seem that bad.”
“TK, you’ve seen their show. The dude somehow knows literally everything and can spend multiple minutes talking about the significance of various wood types in regional architecture. I might not be pushing you out a window tonight, but I might end up jumping through one.”
Now it was TK’s turn to roll his eyes, “Give the guy a chance Marj. You know how it can be when you’re filming. He might be a completely different person off-camera. You might be surprised and actually end up liking him.”
Her expression softened incrementally, but her voice was still firm, “We’ll see.”
Across the room, a similar conversation was happening.
“You can’t seriously expect me to spend a night working with her do you, Carlos?”
Carlos raised an eyebrow, “What’s wrong with her?” he asked skeptically.
Paul seemed to falter a bit, “I mean, it doesn’t seem like she takes much seriously. She’ll probably be off-task all night. Besides, she’s the one who’s catchphrase is ‘come at me demon!’ Actually, I feel like the fact that she even has a catchphrase is telling enough.”
“I think you’re being unfair.”
“Unfair? I would never!”
Carlos narrowed his eyes at him, “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not right now and it is honestly concerning to me. You need to give her a chance.”
“No, I don’t think I do.”
Carlos sighed, “What did we say about not being a dick around people who don’t know you’re always kind of a dick?”
Paul looked at least slightly chastised, “Fine, I’ll play nice.”
“That’s all I ask. Now,” he said cheerfully, snapping the last of his gear on, “it’s time to go meet our new partners!”
“You know, sometimes I kind of hate you.”
“I’m okay with that.”
------------
Marjan swung her flashlight around the grounds as she walked. She and Paul had taken the grounds and first floor while TK and Carlos would be tackling the upper floors. So far all she had seen was a lot of grass and awkward silence.
“So,” she began, turning to face her companion, “any thoughts on what we’ll find?”
Paul shrugged, “Not too sure. All the lore says that if we see anything, it should be Alice so I’m hoping we’ll find some evidence of her. The reports make it seem like she’s pretty active, I’d love to catch some of that.”
Marjan hummed in agreement, “That would be cool. I’m a slut for some good audio evidence.”
Paul raised an eyebrow at her. “What?” she asked defensively,
He shook his head, “Nothing. I just figured you were more about the video evidence. You know, where you could be seen doing something crazy.”
She scoffed, “Yeah, that stuff’s fun, but when it comes to actual evidence, I find audio to be more reliable. There are just too many factors when dealing with video evidence. Besides,” she added as she crossed to the other side of the yard, “It’s not that I don’t enjoy doing all that stuff, but it’s all for ratings. I know how to make a brand.”
“You know Marwani, I might have been wrong about you.”
“You can’t believe everything you see on the internet Strickland.”
Paul laughed, “No, I suppose you’re right.”
They continued in silence for the next few minutes, each studying their devices. After completing a full circuit of the yard Paul sighed, “Guess that was a colossal waste of time.”
Marjan shrugged, “I guess it depends on how you look at it. I’m just glad we were able to put entire floors between ourselves and that,” she said, gesturing over her shoulder towards the second-floor window that revealed flashlight beams moving.
“You mean the flirt fest? Yeah, I’m not too broken up about missing out on that either.”
Marjan nodded emphatically, “Don’t get me wrong, I love TK like a brother, and I want nothing more than for him to be happy. But I don’t feel the need to be in the room as it happens.”
Paul hummed his agreement, “Carlos is my best friend but when he is infatuated with someone, he is basically unbearable. I’ll take ghost hunting outside over witnessing that any day, thank you.”
Marjan glanced back up at the window, “How gross do you think they are being right now?”
“On a scale of 1 to 10?”
“Sure, why not?”
“11, definitely.”
-----------
“So,” TK started awkwardly, “how’d you get into ghost hunting?”
“I watched my family die and have been determined to find their spirits ever since.”
TK’s eyes grew wide, “Seriously?” he asked.
Carlos chuckled, “No. I just liked scary movies and ghost stories as a kid and have always believed. You?”
TK shrugged, “I guess I’ve always believed too. My dad is huge into this stuff, so I learned a lot about it growing up. Then I met Marjan and we hit it off and she needed a partner so I just kind of, did it.”
“Are you and your dad close?”
A small smile spread across his face, “Yeah. He’s the best. He’s a firefighter, and growing up I always wanted to follow in his footsteps, but this came along and kind of just fit, you know?”
Carlos nodded thoughtfully, “Yeah, I think I do. If you had told 15 year old me that I would be ghost hunting for a living, he would have thought you were crazy. But, I like it. I get to see new places, meet interesting people, and spend time with my best friend.”
“Well,” TK said, “I think it was a good choice.”
Carlos looked at him curiously, “Why’s that?”
TK grinned suggestively, “Because it means we met.”
--------------
So far, the inside was not much more interesting than the grounds.
Marjan was starting to get antsy. She knew that ghost hunting was generally a “hurry up and wait” kind of situation, but she hated the long periods of nothing. At least she normally had TK to banter with. Tonight, she was stuck with a companion who was studying an abstract painting with far too much interest.
“I think this is an original Kelpe,” he said eventually.
“A what?” Marjan asked incredulously.
“A who,” he corrected, “Paul Kelpe was an American painter from about the 1930s until he died in the 80s. He was known for abstract art and retired to Austin before he died.”
Marjan stared at him, “How in the actual hell do you remember this stuff?”
“My mind is like a steel trap.”
Marjan had several things she’d like to say in response to that, but before she could even begin eerie music floated down the hall, effectively ending their conversation.
They looked at each other, and Marjan was gratified to see her excitement reflected on Paul’s face. “Is that...” she started to ask at the same time Paul exclaimed “The piano!”
They looked at each other for just a moment more before they hurried down the hall, back towards the piano.
------------
It took a few tries, Carlos managed to get the door to the turret room open. He and TK walked inside slowly, shining their flashlights around the room.
“Wow,” TK said, and Carlos nodded his head in agreement.
The room was filled with the scattered paraphernalia of life. It looked like everything had been left as is, as if the resident of the bedroom had just walked out the door, ready to start their day. If that day had been about 80 years ago, judging by the dust.
“It doesn’t look like anyone has been in here in ages,” TK noted as he gently brushed the dust off an ornate hand mirror.
Carlos was studying the doorway, “I think you might be right. It doesn’t look like there is any kind of lock or reason it should have been stuck, but it definitely did not open like a door that is commonly used.”
“I wonder whose stuff this is?” TK muttered as he examined the contents of the desk. “Whoever’s it is either loves antiques or it has been sitting here since it was new.”
Carlos had halted abruptly in his own exploration, staring at something on the table by the door. When he spoke, his voice was shaky.
“I think you might be spot on with the later,” he said.
TK turned around, frowning. “What makes you say that?”
Carlos picked up the item he had been studying and turned so TK could see it. It was an antique calling card, yellowed with age, but the name printed in delicate script was still legible; it read “Mrs. Alice Littlefield.”
“Well, shit.” TK breathed. Carlos nodded.
-------------
They reach the piano at the same time, equally out of breath. They each examine their various devices. “I’m getting some pretty strong readings,” Marjan noted.
Paul nodded, “Me too. He moved around the piano, examining it, “I don’t see any wires or triggers, or anything that suggests that this could have been caused by another person.”
Marjan ran an experimental hand across the keys. They played normally. She hit a few notes, but they all sounded as they should. “It seems to be working just fine too.” She lifted the lid and they each shone their flashlights inside.
“Everything looks normal in here too,” she noted after a while. She looked around the room and gestured at one of the cameras they had set up. “Maybe the static cam caught something.”
Paul nodded, pulling out his phone to make a note, “I will definitely look. Hopefully we got good audio too.”
Marjan nodded, “This is so cool,” she gushed.
Paul smiled, “It is, isn’t it?”
-----------
Tk looked around at the contents of the room, “It doesn’t look like anything has been touched since she died.”
Carlos nodded, gently fingering a lace handkerchief on the bedside table, “It looks like she just up and left. It’s kind of sad, actually.”
TK looked at him curiously, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, it doesn’t seem like she had anyone who cared enough to go through her things after she died. Once she died it seems like she just…stopped existing and the world went on.”
TK didn’t really know what to say to that. He glanced around the room and then back at Carlos.
“Unfortunately, I think that is generally what happens, no matter who is left behind. But if it makes you feel any better, if people are right about Alice being the ghost here, she apparently had different plans.”
“I honestly don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.”
TK shrugged, “Me neither.”
“I guess what really bothers me is the thought of what will happen to us when we’re gone. I don’t have much family left as it is, and not too many friends outside of Paul. Would there be anyone left to remember that I existed, or would it just be a room full of stuff that says Carlos Reyes used to exist?”
TK studied him for a moment before speaking, “I know where you’re coming from, believe me. All I have are my dad and Marjan. But I think that it’s more a matter of what we do than what we leave behind.”
Carlos smiled at him, “That’s pretty wise.”
TK grinned, “I do my best.” He took a few steps closer to Carlos. They were so close now that he could every nuance of brown in the other man’s rich, warm eyes. “If it makes you feel any better,” he said softly, “I’d care if you were gone. I’d help to keep your memory around.”
Carlos smiled at him, “Then I guess that means I should do the same for you.”
“It’s a deal then,” TK replied, sticking out his hand. Carlos took it and the shook, but their hands lingered for several moments longer than necessary. Carlos was the first to pull away, albeit reluctantly.
“I guess we should keep going with the actual investigation part before our respective partners hunt us down and murder us.”
TK nodded solemnly, “True. What good is our pact if we both die at the same time, murdered by our perfectionist co-workers?”
They exchanged a grin, but Carlos frowned as TK’s expression shifted and his gaze drifted past him. “Everything okay?” he asked hesitantly.
TK didn’t answer right away, “I’m not sure,” he said eventually. “I thought I saw something but...I don’t know. Probably just a trick of the light.”
Carlos looked like he wanted to say something, but the sound of his phone alarm cut off whatever it was that he had to say. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen. “That’s the 15-minute warning. We have to be out of here pretty soon. We should head back downstairs and help the others gather the equipment.
TK nodded and began to disassemble the camera they had set up in the corner of the room. “Hey Carlos?” he asked as he worked.
“Yeah?”
“We make a pretty good team, don't we?”
Carlos grinned, turning away to hide the blush darkening his cheeks, “Yeah, I think we do.”
---------
A few days later, TK was walking up the sidewalk towards Paul’s house when he heard his name being called from behind him. He turned to see Carlos rushing to catch up with him. He couldn’t help the little flutter his heart did at the sight of him. He paused, letting the other man catch up.
“Hey,” Carlos greeted as he reached him, “What are you doing here?”
TK shrugged, “Honestly, I have no idea. Paul called me and asked me to come over.”
Carlos frowned, “He asked me the same thing. Which, is not weird since we are friends and business partners, but you being here too is strange. No offense,” he added hastily.
“None taken,” TK assured him. “Honestly, I was thinking the same thing.”
They stood awkwardly on the sidewalk for another moment before Carlos shrugged, “I guess the only way to find out is to head in.”
TK nodded and gestured towards the door, “After you.”
Carlos let them in and led TK towards the office. When they entered the space, they were even more surprised that Paul was not alone.
“Marjan?” TK asked incredulously, “What are you doing here?”
Paul answered, “I called her first because I needed someone else to confirm that you two are as big of idiots as I thought you were.”
Marjan nodded solemnly, “And I can confirm, you are the biggest idiots.”
TK and Carlos looked at each other, baffled. “What did we do?” TK asked defensively.
Marjan and Paul simply exchanged a look before Paul turned his laptop around for them to see. There was a video feed paused on it. It seemed to be one of the feeds from the turret room. Carlos gave the other two a confused look, “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Oh, just wait,” Paul said, reaching down to hit play.
They all watched silently, Marjan and Paul watching their companions more than the video. TK and Carlos watched as they moved through the frame, getting closer. TK blushed as they grasped hands. He knew what part this was, he just had no idea how sappy they actually looked. He was just grateful there was no sound. As he watched, he saw a figure appear over Carlos’s shoulder. His eyes widened. That couldn’t be…
“Is that an FBA?” Carlos asked weakly, looking up at Paul and Marjan. Paul glared at him, “Just watch.”
They all turned their attention back to the screen to see as the figure became more solid. There was no denying that it was the ghostly figure of a woman. She remained there, just past Carlos’s shoulder, for a least a minute before vanishing as quickly as she had appeared.
Present Carlos and TK looked at each other. “I guess you did see something,” Carlos said weakly. TK was still too shell-shocked to respond. They had been in the same room as a Full-bodied Apparition – the holy grail of paranormal investigating – and they hadn’t even noticed.
He looked over at their partners, who seemed torn between amusement and frustration. He understood the feeling.
Eventually, Paul spoke, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems to me that you two were so busy flirting you did not notice a literal ghost not even two feet from you.”
Carlos ran a shaky hand through his hair, “Yeah, I think that about covers it,” he said weakly.
Marjan snorted, “Actually, it looks like she yeeted herself out of there as soon as possible. Face it – you guys are so gross that even the dead don’t want to deal with you.”
TK and Carlos locked eyes. After a moment Carlos shrugged and TK groaned, “The shippers are going to have a field day with this. We will never have another moment of peace.”
Carlos considered this for a moment, before a sly grin spread across his face, “Maybe, or we could just beat them at their own game?”
TK frowned at him, “What do you mean?”
“TK Strand, would you like to go on a date with me?”
There was a beat of silence before Paul and Marjan groaned and TK grinned, “I thought you’d never ask.”
Marjan looked at Paul, “Our lives are ruined,” she said mournfully.
He nodded grimly, “Let’s be real though; we never stood a chance.”
Notes:
I actually did a lot of research for this one and since once an English major always an English major or something like that, you can find my sources here, here, here, and here. If nothing else it's worth it for a look at the house (which is a real place) because it does give off some serious spooky vibes in my opinion.
[Read on Ao3]
#911 lone star#911 lone star fic#halloween fic#tk strand#carlos reyes#marjan marwani#paul strickland#I normally wouldn't bring back something but#...it's halloween#and this is a ghost hunting au#so here you go I guess#yes it's a day early but frankly today has not been a great day and i need the distraction#also it's the 30th it counts
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Replay ch. 4
Callum gulped as he sent the text to Rayla. She was fully in her rights to reject a drawing session in the woods. Not only that, but he was asking her to bring her own clothes because he didn’t know her exact measurements. Was he asking too much? He read the text again. ‘If it’s not too much trouble, I was really imagining drawing you among the trees, like a faerie or an elf. If you have any flowy clothes that you are alright with getting dirty, please wear those. I’ll send you the location if you’re comfortable. If not, we can do the beach or my backyard. I just can’t imagine drawing you in a confined space like my studio. I don’t think it would fit your spirit.’
Callum internally screamed. Did he really send that? She was going to rescind her acceptance of his request to draw her, wasn’t she? ‘Her spirit’? He had met her once! What was wrong with him? It was true, though. That was something about her that, despite the suit and the situation that they met in, made him feel like she would be more at home running barefoot through the forest or relaxing by the sea.
Either way, now all he had to do was wait for her to reply back. If she rejected the offer, well, he didn’t want to think about that, because that meant he probably was never going to see her again. Meeting her once was enough to make her haunt his every thought for the past three days. While he and his friends had finally ironed out how they were going to go full-time with YouTube, she had been right in the back of his mind.
He had looked up her name and ran across a few things. She really was the daughter of two bodyguards of the British royal family and her adoptive fathers ran a famous Celtic jewelry shop in Aberdeen, the designs being a mix of traditional shapes and styles and new materials. She did dance for years as a way to channel her energy. There was even a video online of her at sixteen doing a ballet routine to a Kylie Minogue and Madonna compilation. She had inserted traditional Irish step dance in a way Callum never would have thought worked but it did. Maybe that was because of the sheer joy on her face as she moved. That made her departure from dance all the stranger and it’s also where information about her basically stopped. The most recent thing he found was that she worked for Patel and Associates Anti-Fraud Law Office.
A lawyer…his faerie was a lawyer. It certainly explained the suit but it was almost absurd. Here he was imagining her running through the trees and she was surrounded by paperwork in her daily life. Did she enjoy it? Did she like spicy food? What was her type?
Callum hit his head against his desk. He needed to stop letting his mind drift to her and whether or not she could ever be interested in him. There was no way someone like him was her type. She couldn’t hide just how toned her long legs her in her suit. She probably worked out often while he was a lazy twig that indulged in sleeping in too much. Also, she was a lawyer. A lawyer falling for a YouTuber/artist? Yeah, right.
A stray chip hit his forehead. Callum looked up to glare at Soren. “What?”
“You thinking about that hot girl at the cheese shop again?”
“What? No!” Callum could feel the blush creepy up on his cheeks and all the way to his ears.
“It’s fine if you were. She was smoking hot. I never thought I would find white hair hot, but DAMN.”
Claudia hummed in acknowledgement. “I’m calling it now; she’s Bi or Pan.”
“What makes you say that?” Soren mumbled around a bunch of chips.
Claudia winked. “Gaydar.”
“Wishful thinking?”
“Maybe some of that, too,” Claudia shrugged.
“She’s got two dads,” Callum mumbled.
Soren, Claudia, and Ezran all turned to him. “Does she now?” Claudia asked.
“Yeah. She told me at the shop. It was the painting of Aunt Amaya and Aunt Janai that made her accept my offer. She was raised by her parents’ friends, hence, two dads. They run Gael Jewelers in Aberdeen.”
Claudia immediately pulled out her phone, probably to look them up. Shortly after, she whistled. “Wow. She comes from a really good-looking family. Her mom is a totally MILF.”
Soren rolled his eyes. “Claudia, you can’t just-” Claudia shoved the picture in his face. “MILF alert.”
“Mm-hmm.” Claudia scrolled through. “Ethari and Runaan and are also incredibly attractive. Damn. What is in the water in Scotland?”
Callum rolled his eyes. “Guys. Let’s focus. Do we need a production manager?”
Claudia shrugged. “My vote is you’re in charge of creative for group projects, we run our own channels, and we hire an editing assistant.”
“We also need a social media manager. Ez can’t do it all on his own while he’s in school.”
Ezran nodded. “It’s nice that you guys do your own channel stuff, but, sometimes, it would be nice to have some help.”
“Do we need a strong social media presence? We have YouTube and Twitter. Isn’t that enough?”
Ezran scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe? Claudia’s got a large following on Tumblr ever since she came out during one of her make-up tutorials. Her super casual ‘my ex-girlfriend taught me how to do this and this is the first time I’ve done this eyeliner look since we broke-up’ just made her blow-up and our channel gained thousands of followers over-night.”
Callum nodded. “We gained a lot of followers after I did that art tutorial with Janai, too. A lot of people just went gaga over her and I see a lot of requests for her to come back on the channel.”
“Which is where a social media manager could come in handy. Maybe they could track requests so we don’t have to?”
Soren sighed, taking another handful of his chips. “We also need someone to help us with events. Getting us into them, working booths…being famous is hard work.”
“We aren’t famous, Soren.”
“Beg to differ. I get stopped all the time.” Soren flexed his arm. “And it’s not just because of these guns.” The other three in the room rolled their eyes.
“Himbo,” Claudia coughed, no-so-subtly.
“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?! Stop using words I don’t know!”
“Stop being a himbo.”
“CLAUDS!”
Ezran and Callum shared a look, snorting at their childhood friends’ teasing. Soren and Claudia couldn’t go five minutes without teasing each other or making a serious situation humorous. “Can’t take them anywhere,” Callum whispered.
Ezran nodded. “Bait is better behaved.”
Callum eyed the frog in the glass bowl Ezran took with him wherever he could. “He’s glaring at me again.”
“Because you won’t stop thinking about that girl.”
“It’s not my fault she won’t leave my head. You saw her, Ez.”
“Yeah, she’s beautiful, but she’s not running through my head like she is your’s. Are you even ready for another relationship? After Melissa-”
“Melissa was a nightmare. She constantly asked to be introduced in our videos. I didn’t know at the time, but you were right, she approached me because she wanted to piggyback off our growing fame.” Callum ran a hand through his hair. “I was an idiot.”
Ezran put a hand on his shoulder. “I wasn’t going to say that. I was going to say that Melissa really hurt you and I want you to be careful. You didn’t even like her that much, if I remember correctly.”
“She was nice, pretty, liked some of the same things I did. But she didn’t really inspire me to be better or push my art. She only encouraged the YouTube thing, not what I actually like.”
“She is why we got almost fifty thousand subscribers in one week, though. That story broke and you had to give that little video and it really stuck with people.”
Callum remembered that video. As a way to quiet down any questions, he had made a short video detailing how they had met (in a coffee shop), why they had never gone public (he had wanted to keep his private life and his YouTube life separate), that she had met his family but they kept it hush-hush (impossible not to meet Ezran after knowing Callum for a week), and that the break-up had not been mutual. Callum had broken-up with her because he had felt that it wasn’t working because they wanted different things. Melissa pushed the YouTube thing, and there was nothing wrong with that, but, if Callum was going to be known for social media and videos, he wanted to be proud of what he put out into the universe. He loved his art more, and, if he could, that would be all he did. Melissa had wanted to do sponsorships and Callum hadn’t. They just had different values and desires and no one else was owed this knowledge, but Callum had been forced to do damage control because people would not stop asking. “Yeah. I was really surprised that that happened.”
“People value honesty. I think it comes across in our videos and your art tutorials that you are not in this for the fame. We’ve done meet and greets and you are just awkward as anything. Melissa showed her true colors on her own with posts afterwards.” Callum didn’t even want to think about how Melissa had tried to monetize their break-up. It had been bizarre to see her sponsored by a make-up wipe company to tell her side of the story, which basically confirmed everything in Callum’s video, but with the caveat that she had wanted him to reach new heights and that YouTube and not his ‘lame art’, as she had put it, was the way to do that. Their fans had not taken kindly to that and Melissa had lost thousands of followers she had gained overnight in even less time.
“Social media is weird, Ez. No matter what, we have got to stay away from the drama. We do not want to be involved in any of that.”
“Yep. That’s why I think a social media manager could help. A good one.”
“I’m all for it if that’s what keeps our noses clean.” Callum straightened when his phone alerted him to a text.
He opened it to see it was from Rayla ‘The woods? OK. I’m still bringing my friend. When’s good for you? It would have to be on a weekend for me because of work. Sorry about that.’
“Holy shit,” Callum whispered.
“What?” Ezran looked over his shoulder to read the text. “That text sounds weird. Callum-”
“I know, Ez, but she didn’t say ‘no’. She didn’t reject me.” Ezran raised a brow. “You know what I mean.”
“You’ve got it bad.”
“I just need to draw her to get her out of my system.”
“Either that or she is your muse. Poor Aunt Janai. She was having so much fun being your muse. So was Khessa.” Callum chuckled. Khessa, Janai’s older sister, did enjoy modeling for Callum. His exhibit on women of color had been a smash hit in part because of her always accepting when he asked. She had once modeled with a crown while sitting on a throne and that particular piece now hung in her house in her living room, showed off to everyone who came over. Callum smiled as he remembered that exhibit. His crowing achievement, to this day, was the portrait of his mother, eyes softened, and an easy, loving smile on her lips. People thought of her as this rough former military general and tactician who once taught at military academies. They didn’t know that she had a sweet tooth or that her relationship with Callum’s father had led her to leaving the military because she saw that the push for peace was more important.
She was now known for her discussions on US-South Korean and US-Thai relations because both her parents were immigrants and her own history in South Korea. Sarai and Amaya had both spent half their childhoods in South Korea in Korean schools, helping Sarai learn how the rest of the world saw the States. She and Amaya and joined the military because it helped pay for university, but both found they were really good at it. So good at it, they extended their contracts before finally leaving to focus on family and peaceful negotiations. Callum was proud of his mother’s work and was proud of the picture showing the softer side of her so many people didn’t see.
He shook his head and sent a quick text to Rayla that next Saturday worked for him if it worked for her. This Saturday was in a few days and, if things went how Ezran wanted, they were probably going to be doing interviews all weekend for a social media manager. “Let’s get a social media manager, Ez.”
“YES!”
------------------------------------------
Rayla smiled at the text. The woods was a bit of a strange option, but she was excited. She hadn’t had a chance to go running through the trees barefoot in years. She was going to have to ask Corvus if he was willing to head out early so she could do so. She mentally thought of her wardrobe and realized she didn’t have anything flowing that she was willing to get dirty. She was going to have to go thrift store shopping.
Was she really going to go buy a dress so a random artist that she had met one time could draw her surrounded by trees? Yeah, she was and she was going to look so good she was going to haunt his mind like he haunted her’s. His voice followed her and she had watched all of his videos in three days. She barely slept because she wanted to hear him more or see him smile or laugh. She felt like one of those stalkers who was convinced a famous person was in love with them, but she had met him in real life. He had approached her, he had asked to draw her. Either way, she wanted him to be tongue-tied when he saw her and, hopefully, she was going to quell some of the fire that refused to leave her belly since they had shaken hands.
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My Heart Has Already Sinned | K.SH
Female Reader x Preacher’s Kid!Seunghun
➳ genre: suggestive fluff, mild angst
➳ word count: ~1.8k
➳ warnings: cursing, making out, religious jargon
A/N: this is the first longer fic I’m posting on here! I hope everyone likes it. My ask box is always open for feedback and criticism, so please don’t be shy! Also please don’t take the religious aspect of this fic too seriously, since it’s all a work of fiction. But please let me know if there’s anything offensive.
Sundays were the only day of the week that you were sure that you wouldn’t see your boyfriend. Monday through Friday, the two of you would be coupled up in school, all day long. On Saturdays, he made sure to treat you to preemptively make up for his Sunday absences.
You understood. You really did. Sundays were for church. And as the son of the pastor, church was something Seunghun knew all too well.
The words of the Bible were ingrained into his very being. He did unto others as he would like them to do unto him. He prayed every night for the sick. He drank the blood of Christ every first Sunday of the month for communion. Everyone would agree that Kim Seunghun was nothing but holy.
You were the only one who knew otherwise.
Even now, you can see the bruises beginning to peak out of the collar of your shirt, Seunghun’s latest parting gift. Your hips are sore from the way he gripped them tightly, your back permanently cramped from the way it arched under his touch.
You dab more concealer on the hickies littering your neck, smirking to yourself softly in the mirror. Every reminder that Seunghun left on your body brings you back to moments of absolute bliss, leaving you caught up in memories of his skin on yours.
All it takes is a sharp cry from your mother to hurry up, though, before your bubble is completely bursted. You rush to finish covering the bruises before taking a few deep breaths to calm the heat that has risen to your cheeks. Thinking of Seunghun tends to do that to you.
About 20 minutes later, after a cramped car ride with your family, you arrive at the restaurant. Your parents were adamant about spending family meals together, and today they decided to switch it up by going out to eat instead.
You pile into a nicely lit booth, the atmosphere of the restaurant aided by classy music. It’s calming in a way that makes you feel warm inside. There’s nothing like being surrounded by good food and family.
That is, until your younger sister points a chubby finger at where your collar has slipped down the tiniest bit. She holds a twisted amusement in her eyes when she practically yells, “Y/N, what’s that? You know, on your collarbone.”
Both of your parents snap their heads to look your way, scrutinizing you with their eyes as you rush to fix your shirt.
Shit.
. . .
The static of the phone line crackles as Seunghun laughs. You roll your eyes from the other end of the line, having known he would get a kick out of your story.
“It’s not funny,” you whine. “This is all your fault!”
Seunghun’s words practically drip with a smirk. “I’m not going to apologize, princess. You always look so good marked up for me. If it were up to me, I’d let everyone see them, all the time.”
“Seunghun,” you warn. “Don’t. It’s still Sunday. Think about the lord, and not pleasures of the flesh.”
A chuckle sounds from the other end of the line. “Right, as if I could forget it’s a Sunday.”
There’s a heavy silence for a moment, always triggered by the reminders of Seunghun’s Sunday duties. You knew how taxing it could be on him, teaching Sunday school at 9am, then sitting through service at 11, followed by running the youth ministry. He pretends to be his usual energetic self on Mondays, but you can always catch hints of exhaustion through the cracks in his facade.
“You know, I thought about you a lot during service today,” Seunghun sighs. “It was about love and devotion. My dad kept talking about how Jesus died so we can love each other freely. And I just kept wondering when I’ll get to love you freely.”
Naturally, the two of you chose to hide your relationship from Seunghun’s parents. You never wanted to ruin his image within the church community, even though he assured you that no such thing would ever happen. Even still, you were sure that speculations about the Kim Seunghun’s love life would lead to nothing but trouble.
What was worse was that Seunghun’s parents always envisioned him with a church girl, and you simply were not it. You didn’t attend every 11am service, or Wednesday night bible study. Your relationship with religion was your own, and therefore extremely private. Seunghun’s parents contrastingly saw him with a girl that absolutely exuded christianity, much like the Kim family itself.
It didn’t help that neither of you were virgins, and were nowhere near married. It was obvious that the church would regard you as nothing less than blasphemous. And as much as Seunghun claimed to not care, you knew that there was a piece of him deep down that did, so you did what was for the best and concealed your relationship as much as you could.
“Our time will come,” you reassure him, having grown accustomed to whispering words of encouragement whenever your boyfriend got too in his head. “Don’t think about it too hard. One day we’ll be able to tell everyone and I’ll shout ‘I love you, Kim Seunghun’ from the rooftops, okay?”
A staticky giggle sounds from the other end of the line. “You’re right. I’ll be praying on it every night.”
. . .
Driving Seunghun home was always a hidden privilege. Both of his parents tended to be out until late, leaving the house empty until the late hours of the night. So after whatever activities you had planned in the afternoon, you savored the short drive back to your boyfriend’s house.
“You never told me what happened with your parents yesterday,” Seunghun chimes from the passenger’s seat. “Did they ground you or something?”
“Nah. I convinced them that Mira shot a rubber band at me and it hit me there and left a mark.”
Your boyfriend looks at you for a second before bursting into laughter. You can’t help the smile that grows on your face at the sound.
“And that worked? Wow, I can’t believe you got away with it.”
“You and me both,” you mutter, coming to a stop at a red light.
You catch Seunghun smirk in your peripheral vision, feeling a hand meet your clothed thigh. Before you have a chance to regard it, the light turns green again, leaving you focused on the road ahead.
“So, if you get away with it, does that mean I can leave more?” The boy’s voice is slightly deeper now, and you can tell he’s using his bedroom voice on purpose.
You take a deep breath though, focusing on the road ahead of you. Seunghun’s hand doesn’t stop stroking your inner thigh, softly, in a way that has your hands turning pale on the steering wheel. You grit your teeth, attempting to put his distractions in the back of your mind.
If there’s one thing about your boyfriend, though, it’s that he’s persistent. His hand slowly travels higher until he’s thumbing at the place in which your inner thigh meets your pelvis, dangerously close to your core.
“Seunghun,” you breathe out shakily. “Please don’t. I swear I’m gonna crash the car if you don’t stop.”
Seunghun smirks as he removes his hand, letting his fingers linger longer than they should. “I’m sorry, princess. You just look really good. I’ve wanted to fuck you all day.”
His words send a shiver down your spine, but you choose not to respond, knowing it will just further ignite the flames in your stomach. Seunghun’s eyes keep raking your figure as much as possible until you pull up in front of his house. The minute you put the car into park, your lips are on his.
The angle is kind of awkward, with both of you leaning against the center console, but it doesn’t hinder the passion held in your kiss. Seunghun is a dominant kisser, always taking the lead in a way that has you cursing under your breath. Even now, with the constriction of your seatbelts, Seunghun guides the kiss with subtle dominance.
You feel him reach across your body, undoing your seatbelt and finally allowing you to get closer. However, he doesn’t give you a chance to decide to do so before he’s pulling you across the center console and into his lap. His subtle show of strength is not lost on you. It just has you squeezing your thighs together as much as possible as they’re slung across his hips.
The kiss changes directions from there. The once passionate show of affection turns filthy, with entirely too much tongue and biting. Seunghun’s hands slide down the curve of your body until they grab handfuls of your ass, causing you to moan into the kiss.
You’re quick to kiss the cocky smirk off his face, letting your fingers tangle into his hair. You subtly shift your hips forward, grinding right into where Seunghun is half hard in his pants. He lets out a labored breath at the friction, tilting his head back. You take the opportunity to place kisses along the column of his throat, but not leaving marks, as per his request.
Seunghun’s hands are still gripping your ass, shifting you forward to grind on him once again. The air in the car is thick, filled with labored breaths and soft moans. However, a sudden knock on the car window has you two quickly pulling apart.
The face on the other side of the car door is nothing short of furious, angry flames held in the otherwise holy man’s eyes. You’re quick to scramble off Seunghun’s lap and back into your seat as Seunghun opens the door, not leaving you much time to straighten out your own appearance.
“Dad, I can expl--,” Pastor Kim is quick to cut his son off.
“Don’t speak. I don’t want to hear a word from you. Go inside, right now. If I don’t hear you praying when I get back in, so help me, we will have a problem.”
Seunghun’s jaw is tense, sparing a glance at you before sliding out of the car. He mouths an “I’m sorry” from behind his fathers’ back, at which you just shake your head. This was both of your faults.
“Pastor Kim, I’m so sorry about this.”
The older man chuckles in disbelief. “You should be more than sorry, young lady. Please, do me a favor. Never see my son ever again. And say some Hail Mary’s while you’re at it.”
With that the man slams the door closed, turning to enter his house. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, letting your shoulders sag in a combination of embarrassment and disappointment. You glance back to the door that the pastor has disappeared behind, noticing the small cross hanging above it.
You sigh as you stare straight at the symbol, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You know that no amount of praying could get your boyfriend back, but you figure it’s worth a try.
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Please Don’t Take Her (Part 2)
Word Count: 1648
WARNING: angst, sadness, torturing Nero mentally and emotionally, hospital setting, pregnancy complications
Tags:@dylan-o-yumm, @ceruleanworld, @shadowrosess
Nero thrashed against the nurses and doctors as his beloved wife was wheeled away on the stretcher. As she disappeared through the doors he collapsed to his knees, still writhing against the people holding him back. He didn’t listen to their pleas for him to hold still, and he was close to hurting somebody. But even in his panicked and feared state, all he could do was to continue to struggle against the arms around him. He could use his demon strength he could devil trigger right now. But what good would it do? He reached out towards the still swinging doors, desperate to escape the holds of the hospital staff and be with his love.
His love. His wife. His babies. Gone from his grasp, and he watched them get taken away. His eye’s burned with tears and his throat grew more and sorer as he yelled and berated the staff. But he didn’t care.
“I have to go with her!” he cried, “That’s my wife!”
“Sir please calm down,” one nurse said, though it fell on deaf ears.
“Please! Please let me go!” he kept yelling, “I’m the father! I’m the father!”
“Sir! You must calm down!”
He grew more and more unruly; the demands of the nurses and doctors slowly turned his fear into a rage as they continued to hold him down. He tried to keep control of himself, but he could feel his demonic blood boil as he began to shake. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, even accidentally, but each voice clouding his head only served to feed the beast within him.
“NERO!”
A familiar voice broke through the commotion, and Nero froze. The whole room went quiet and Nero turned towards the voice. The long red coat stood out against the white sterile waiting room, like a beacon of hope in this despair. Nero relaxed and the arms around him fell away. He panted and, in the stillness, he finally was able to let himself go. He felt his damn crumble away as he let himself cry fully. He stumbled away from the hospital staff that held him and into the arms of his uncle where he sobbed uncontrollably.
Dante’s arms encased his nephew, keeping him upright and allowing him to cry his heart out. All the fear and worry coming from his nephew he absorbed. His hand went to Nero’s head, rubbing his hair comfortingly as he hushed the crying young man. Nero mumbled something though Dante couldn’t hear it through his sobs. Dante hushed him softly, letting him know he could let it all out with no shame.
He led Nero to a row of waiting room chairs, urging him to sit down before he passed out. Nero kept his head on this uncle's shoulder, refusing to let go of him. Like a child that had finally found their lost parent in a crowded space. He sniffled and hiccupped into the aged red leather. Through his runny nose, he could smell the worn material and it provided some semblance of comfort and familiarity. Dante’s arm never left Nero’s back as he rubbed his hand up and down. He even gave a few pats then and there.
“I know, kid. I’m right here,” the old hunter said softly, “It’ll be okay.”
It had been some time since they had arrived at the hospital. Nero sat anxiously in the waiting room chairs. No part of him could hold still. Whether it be his leg bouncing or his fingers drumming on the armrest, or even his whole body subtly vibrating. He had stopped crying about an hour ago, but his eyes still burned, and his nose and forehead throbbed with congestion. Dante had offered him a coffee, but he starkly refused, worried that anything in his stomach would end up on the floor.
He tried occupying himself, he really did. Each magazine article he read just turned into alphabet soup on the page. Each news story on the wall-mounted tv went in one ear and out the other. Nothing could quench his utter fear at what was happening to his wife and twins. Merely thinking about it was enough to have his eyes burning with tears again.
If Nero ever prayed in his life. It would be now. Not during the boring sermons in church back on Fortuna, not before bed when he lived in the barracks while training to be a holy knight, but here and now, staring into a bright fluorescent light overhead, bearing his soul to whatever god or demon that be. He didn’t even know what for. He didn’t want to give even a modicum of thought to the idea that she or the twins wouldn’t pull through. They had to be alright… they had to be.
“Please don’t take her,” he whispered.
“Nero?” a voice broke him out of his stupor.
“Yes?” he said, voice shaky and uncertain. He stood quickly, paying no mind to the head rush it gave him.
“Are they okay?” he asked.
The nurse swallowed before speaking, “We had to perform an emergency C-section. Both twins were sent to the NICU, but they are both stable and healthy.”
“What about Y/N?” he asked, growing more worried.
“She is also stable. But she lost a lot of blood, and she is in a coma.”
Nero felt cold. He froze. All the color drains from his face and his stomach dropped to the floor. He felt dead on his feet as his eyes drifted to the floor. The nurse was quick to try and reassure him.
“Comas are a bit unpredictable; they can last anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. But since we were able to stabilize her, we believe she will recover in time.”
Her words did little to bring Nero out of his shocked and hopeless state. Everything before and after the words “she is in a coma,” vanished in thin air. He didn’t even react when Dante came up behind him and guided him down to his chair again before he could collapse. He sat there, holding his head in his hands, staring wide-eyed at the floor. The poor nurse still stood before the two devil hunters, trying to reassure them to little avail.
Finally, after a short near panic attack, Nero raised his head, not hiding his redden and sore eyes.
“Can I see her?” he asked.
“Yes of course,” the nurse replied, “Please, follow me.”
Dante lingered behind in the waiting room while Nero followed the nurse through the doors. The walk through the dull bright hallways lasted for an eternity. The mix of exhaustion and the rush of emotions distorted Nero’s vision. The only clear thing in his sight was the back of the nurse’s head as he lagged behind her. His body felt heavy, his brain felt heavy in his skull as he stumbled through the halls. The corridor stretched impossibly far beyond him, stretching into white oblivion. Where was he even going? When did they last turn? Where was Y/N? Where are his babies?
He heard what he assumed was the nurse’s voice, but he couldn’t make out a single word. It was lost in the sea of his own thoughts and emotions as his mind ran through every scenario, every outcome, every sequential moment leading to where he stood now. Everything he could have done differently to avoid this, everything that he did wrong.
How desperately he wanted this to be a dream, to wake up any moment in bed, with his wife, his hand on her belly feeling their twins kick at his touch. Or better yet, to wake up to the sound of his babies crying from across the room in their crib, desperate for their parent’s attention, and all of this was nothing but a what-if nightmare.
Suddenly the nurse’s voice broke through Nero’s clouded mind as she stopped in front of a door. He nearly ran into her when she stopped, and probably would have just kept walking straight on his own if she had turned.
The nurse gingerly pushed the door open and stepped aside for him to enter. She didn’t enter with him, only shutting the door as quietly as she could behind her. Nero swallowed heavily as he walked over to the bed. His breath felt thick in his lungs when he laid eyes on his wife. His Y/N. The soft light over her bed, illuminating her hair like a halo. Her face was eerily relaxed, and Nero’s stomach churned at the sight. He wanted her to no longer be in pain, to watch her sleep with no discomfort. But not like this, never like this.
His eyes drifted to the IV in her arm, as it draped over her upsettingly flat stomach. Her breaths were slow, deep, and even. And he thanked the universe that she wasn’t hooked up to any breathing tubes. She looked like she finally was comfortable, like how she used to sleep.
He moved towards her bed and lowered himself to his knees. Arms folded, he rested his tired head against them and just stared at her. She looked so peaceful. To just curl up with her, arms tightly woven around her body like ivy, and both of them drifting off to the beat of their hearts, Nero would gladly give his right arm again, and the rest of his body.
His eyes moved to her hand, resting palm up next to her on the sheets, her ring gleaming in the light overhead. His hand found hers and gripped her fingers gently yet firmly. Her hands were warm and for a moment, he was back home, in bed with her, relishing in her warmth as it cradled him beneath the sheets, guiding him over the edge of sleep into unconsciousness.
“Please…” he whispered, “Don’t leave me.”
to be continued...
A/N: YAY! Dante’s here to make things better... right? So I was in a kinda angsty state and this is what came of it. Obviously, it’s from Nero’s POV and what he’s going through, so it’s really wordy with not as much dialogue. I hope I haven’t bored any of you. The next part is going to still be angsty but things will start looking up I promise. Feedback is always appreciated and let me know if you want to be tagged. Thank you so much for reading, and have Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!! :)
#dmc#devil may cry#dmc 5#devil may cry 5#dmc nero#nero#nero x reader#dmc nero x reader#dmc fanfic#dmc fanfiction#devil may cry fanfic#devil may cry fanfiction#my fanfic#my writing#my post
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Lost Boy Epilogue: Found
Summary: When his family moves from San Francisco to the town of Shadyside, T.J. thought his life would change. And it did. He just didn’t think it would come in the form of the ghost of a boy who haunted his new bedroom.
Prologue
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11
@delicatesleeper,@ibroughtachallah,@frenchtohste,@alittletooliteralleah,@tyrusmagocious,@tjskipping,
@mirrorslover, @opatrickr, @lesbianrelateddeath, @justkimberley,@burning-hot-pan,@green-lemonboys,@anotherangelfromspace,@thebisexualweirdo,@likelightning-inabottle,@thedampjofangirl, @fizasdr, @awkward-bisexual-alien, @whipashwhipash, @abg-blah,@atthemomentimintothis,@emberofthefrost, @sana-drinks-isklar,
@tyrusisobviouslyendgame, @delilahdee00, @lazymarvelfan, @glitch-ditch-canonbitch, @miracufan
A/N: Hi, guys! Here it is now: the epilogue. Please read this note, first! It’s very important!
First things first, I want to thank everyone who read, commented, liked/left kudos, and followed this story from beginning to end.
Second, a couple of things have occurred since the last chapter was posted and I’d like to address them here, now.
So, I know most of you were unhappy with how I chose to end that chapter but you already knew what you were getting into when you clicked on this story. So, to that one person who was very rude in their comment (you know who you are, if you are still even subscribed to this since I politely asked you to unsubscribe and I’m still kindly asking you not to bother with reading this Epilogue because it’s not for you), this is what I have to say. A writer can choose how to end their story in the way they want, it’s their work and it’s their vision. They worked hard to produce a story and, for an emotional story like “Lost Boy” that’s filled with angst and tragedy, it can take a toll on their own mental and emotional health. I have no problem with constructive criticism, but your comment was not constructive, at all. You have no idea how many times I’ve re-worked this story since last year, the effort and every bit of my own emotions I put on it. So, the fact that you said the things you did makes me believe that you don’t realize all the work it took to create this story you supposedly enjoyed but proceed to insult when it didn’t end the way you wanted. It’s MY story.
And, following up on that, if you’re unhappy with how I wrote my stories and you want to write your own version, please, please, please, PLEASE ask me for permission. My story ideas are precious and important to me, as any author will tell you. This is the second time it’s happened and both times, both stories were written without my permission. Even if you credit me in your author notes, which I appreciate, I still want to be asked if I’m okay with it because when it’s sprung up on me, I’m caught off-guard and it upsets me. I want to be able to make that choice to have something I come up with re-written and I won’t pretend I’m okay with it. So, again, please, please, please, PLEASE ask me for permission, it’s only common courtesy.
And, third, I’ll be taking a short break after this but I will start accepting prompt requests again, soon.
With that said, enjoy this Epilogue!
................
The streets and houses looked the same as he remembered…yet also not the same.
Mrs. Singh’s shrubs are still shaped like birds. The Caranos’ front porch had been re-painted from white to a bright sunny yellow. Mr. Lee’s picket fence was finally fixed. And the Smith’s gnomes still stare stonily right into his soul.
A breeze swept by him and he shuddered, zipping his jacket further up before stuffing his hands into the pockets. He continued down the path to his destination, his gaze swiveling around and taking in his surroundings.
Everything was familiar…yet also not familiar.
After some time, he finally made it to the gray-painted house with the navy-blue roof and white windows. The picket fence surrounding it was still intact and still white.
He couldn’t help the smile that graced his lips as he walked up the path to the front door. His stomach was filled with butterflies and nerves. He kind of felt guilty for being here and almost turned tail and ran. But, no, he was going to do this. He swore to himself that he would.
Raising a hand, he pressed his finger to the doorbell and waited.
It didn’t take long for the door to swing open and reveal a blonde-haired woman, who smiled in a friendly manner upon seeing him.
“Hello. Can I help you?”
“Hello, ma’am. Is this the Kippen household?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Hi, uh, Mrs. Kippen?”
She nodded.
“I’m… Cyrus Goodman. I used to live here?”
She blinked, brow furrowing in confusion before a look of understanding took over.
“Oh! Goodman! Yes! We bought the house from your parents. Hi, how are you, dear? What brings you here?”
Cyrus chuckled, lightly, his nerves disappearing. “Uh, it’s kind of a long story. But, I was wondering if your son, T.J., was home? He did something for my parents over a year ago and I just came by to thank him, in person.”
“Of course! Come on in!”
She stepped aside and allowed him to enter the home he hadn’t seen in so long.
“He’s up in his room, I’ll go get him,” said Mrs. Kippen before heading up the stairs.
Cyrus took that chance to look around.
Everything was different. The furniture. The photos and paintings on the walls. Even the scent. Instead of the faint aroma coming from the lavender candle that his step-mother Sharon always had lit to relax her patients, there was the unmistakable fresh smell of store-bought Febreze (he just wasn’t sure which one).
He no longer recognized his former home.
A gasp and a glass falling to the floor and breaking caught his ears.
He turned to see a blonde-haired teenage girl, looking at him with wide blue eyes, like she had seen a ghost or something.
He awkwardly lifted a hand to wave. “Hi. I’m Cyrus.”
She continued to stare, her body trembling.
Worried, he asked, “Are you okay?”
“Y-You…” The girl finally found her voice. “B-But, y-you’re…”
Cyrus’ brow furrowed. Did she know him?
“Mom, just tell me who it is,” a new voice reached his ears.
“I’ll let him introduce himself. Come on, don’t keep your guest waiting.”
Distracted, Cyrus turned his head towards the stairs.
Mrs. Kippen was coming down and behind her was a blonde-haired boy.
Instantly, Cyrus felt his breath catch in his throat and the blood rushed to his cheeks. His palms were suddenly sweaty and his heart suddenly decided it wanted to run a marathon.
Tousled blonde hair. Green eyes that reminded Cyrus of freshly cut grass. And a built that definitely screamed “Athlete!”
Damnit, the guy was cute!
This must be T.J., then. His mom definitely did not exaggerate when she told Cyrus the guy was good looking. It wasn’t just her trying to set him up with someone to date.
When T.J. caught sight of him, he froze, eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights and his mouth open in shock.
Cyrus cleared his throat, ignoring the heat in his cheeks. “H-Hi.” He cleared his throat. “Um, T.J.? Right? I’m-.”
“Cyrus,” T.J. breathed and the way he said the name was, strangely, familiar to Cyrus.
Had they met before? But, he was told that the Kippens were new to Shadyside.
The goosebumps that appeared on his skin confused Cyrus, too.
“You’re Cyrus.” The blonde continued to stare at him.
Cyrus let out a soft chuckle.
“Yeah. I guess you’ve heard of me? Well, of course, you have! You live in my old house! And staying in my old room! I hope you like it! Wait, of course, you like it! Haha, you chose it, after all. I hope it was comfortable and… uh…”
T.J. blinked, speechless.
Knowing he was rambling by now, Cyrus subtly tried to wipe his hands on the side of his jeans.
“You gave my parents my journal a year ago. And I just came by to thank you. We just got back, actually.”
“But…how…”
Oh, of course, he wouldn’t know what happened the year before. No one knew. Cyrus had begged his parents to make sure of it.
He nervously ran a hand through his hair. “It’s kind of a long story.”
It was now that Mrs. Kippen decided to intervene.
“We’re gonna clean this up.” She gestured to the broken glass on the floor by her daughter’s feet. “T.J., why don’t you take Cyrus up to your room so you can talk? But, leave the door unlocked, please.”
To Cyrus’ surprise and curiosity, T.J. turned a deep shade of red.
“Mom!” the blonde almost shrieked.
Cyrus didn’t know why his heart refused to calm down at all. Was he nervous? Maybe a little. But, what did he have to be nervous about?
T.J.’s sister was still staring at him and Cyrus tried to ignore the way her eyes seemed to zero in on his back as he followed the other boy up to the second floor.
When they reached his old room, Cyrus immediately noticed the difference. Instead of the plain old white door Cyrus remembered, rainbow-colored paper that formed “TJ” was stuck on the wood.
(Cyrus’ heart may have skipped a beat. Weird.)
Across from that, the room that Cyrus remembered as a guest room, had a paper “Amber” on it.
“Um…come on in.”
T.J. had opened the bedroom door while Cyrus was distracted.
Nodding, he stepped into his old room and was immediately washed by a sense of familiarity and unfamiliarity at the same time. He stopped in the middle and looked around.
The bed frame was the same, but the sheets and covers were a dark green, instead of Cyrus’ more familiar light blue. His old desk was still being used, filled to the brim with books, papers, pens and pencils, and other knick-knacks.
His inspirational posters had been replaced with photo frames and posters of basketball stars. Hoodies were slung over the chair, the edge of the bed, and the closet doorknob. A basketball sat under the window that overlooked Sharon’s old garden.
It was his room yet also not his room.
“I like what you’ve done with the place,” he commented, walking over to the desk and perching on the edge of it, still looking around. “It doesn’t look like my old room, anymore.”
T.J. let out a kind of choked gasp and Cyrus turned his attention to him, curiously.
The blonde looked pale, his gaze still on Cyrus like he couldn’t decide what to make of him. And, by the look in his eyes, he seemed on the verge of crying.
He didn’t think Cyrus was gonna take away his room, was he? Because that was ridiculous, his parents didn’t even own this house, anymore.
“Are you okay?” he asked, feeling a little worried.
T.J. bit his lip before nodding. “Yeah… I’m fine… You’re here… You’re really here… But, how… I mean, last year…”
Ah, right into the nitty-gritty.
Before Cyrus could begin his explanation, T.J. blurted out, “Can I hug you?” He turned read again before following it up with a shy, “Please.”
He should really be questioning this. T.J. was a stranger. His stranger danger instincts should be on overdrive, as it always was when meeting something new. But, for some odd reason he couldn’t pinpoint, he felt comfortable with the blonde boy. And not just because he was cute.
Despite being shocked and kind of caught off-guard, Cyrus found himself nodding and hopping off the desk. In a few strides, T.J. walked forward until he was standing right in front of Cyrus. He was about a head taller than Cyrus so the latter found himself looking up at him.
T.J.’s green eyes had flecks of yellow. They were really pretty.
Cyrus could feel himself blushing at the thought but before he could even comprehend what was happening, T.J. had raised his shaking arms to go around him but he didn’t touch Cyrus. He was hesitating as if Cyrus was made of glass and T.J. was scared of breaking him.
Finally, after what felt like agonizing long minutes (but were probably only a few seconds), T.J. fully wrapped his arms around him, bringing him close to the firm chest.
Cyrus’ heart started running that marathon again. T.J.’s hug was warm and comfortable and he felt like crying, for some reason. He could feel his eyes stinging with tears but he forced them not to fall.
T.J. hugged him for a long time. Maybe a minute or two passed before he finally let go. Maybe because Cyrus had started squirming a little.
The blonde turned away and sniffled.
Cyrus heard him but decided not to comment. Clearly, T.J. was going through something but it was his decision to tell Cyrus or not. After all, they were strangers.
T.J. finally turned back around, looking sheepish. “Sorry. I… uh… Sorry.”
Cyrus smiled, assuring him that it was okay.
“It’s just… last time I saw you… Your parents were going to take you off life support. And…”
Of course! The last time T.J. probably saw him, he was unconscious to the world. For all he knew, Cyrus had died. And that was kind of Cyrus’ fault to begin with. He had to explain himself.
“Yeah… about that. We should probably sit down.”
He made his way back to the desk and he watched as T.J. hesitated before going to the bed and sitting there, instead.
“So… you were right… they were going to take me off life support,” Cyrus began, swinging his legs to combat his nerves. “But, I woke up. Like… literally, moments before they were gonna pull the plug, I just woke up. The doctors couldn’t explain it. Said it was a miracle but whatever it was, I’m just glad for it. I really like being alive.”
He chuckled a little and T.J.’s lips quirked into a soft smile.
It was a nice smile. Cyrus was momentarily distracted by it until the blonde asked, “Why didn’t they tell us? We were waiting to hear back about… your funeral. Is that why they didn’t say anything? Because there was no funeral?”
Cyrus pursed his lips. “Yeah… that was kind of my fault. I asked them not to tell anyone I woke up.”
T.J.’s eyes widened. “What? Why?”
Cyrus looked back to last year, the moment he opened his eyes to his parents’ tear-stained faces, the shock in their eyes, and his mother’s hysterical screaming for the doctor. The various hands on him, touching and prodding and checking every inch and crevice of his body. The confusion as to why he was on a hospital bed, feeling stiff and sore, his head all fuzzy.
“When I first woke up, it was like waking up from a long nap,” he began to explain. “Except, it wasn’t just a nap. It was all scary and confusing and I thought I was still dreaming for most of it. Until, finally, when everything calmed down, they told me what happened to me. That I was in a coma for more than a year and they thought I was never waking up. They couldn’t explain it. I was brain-dead, only kept alive by the machine. But, the doctors thought they may have made a mistake in the initial diagnosis. It’s rare but it does happen. I guess I got lucky.”
“No one told us,” T.J. stated, sounding hurt. “We waited and we even went to your mom’s house. No one was there.”
“In all the fuss, my mom forgot to give everyone a call.”
Which was a miracle, itself, really. His mom never let an opportunity pass by to talk about the latest happenings. And Cyrus waking up from a year-long coma was definitely something she would talk about.
“I asked her not to say anything, especially to my friends.”
“But… why?”
Cyrus sighed as he closed his eyes.
“I was ashamed. And embarrassed. And… just… I couldn’t face them after everything.” He opened his eyes to see T.J. staring at him in rapt attention. “You know, when a person first wakes up from a coma, they’re not exactly back to their old selves. It’s kind of like… starting from scratch. Like a toddler learning everything for the first time. I was sedentary and unconscious for a long time and I needed rehab to re-learn basic actions again. Like walking and remembering things. I could talk a little, but it hurt and I had trouble forming long sentences. I think my voice changed but that’s probably just puberty.”
He linked his hands together, clasping them together on top of his knee.
“The doctor recommended a rehab center in L.A. so my family packed up everything and we moved there. They didn’t say anything to anyone else except for close family. Honestly, I feel kind of guilty for not telling my friends but… I just wanted to be a little less… broken… before I see them again.”
Cyrus smiled and hopped off the desk, wincing a little at the ache in his right knee when his foot landed.
“But, I’m back now! And I’m ready to see them again. I mean… I’m not fully recovered. I still have trouble with my memory and my legs give out sometimes… not that it’s any different from how I was before the coma… but, I’m better. Much better.”
For a moment, it looked like T.J. really had no idea how to react to the situation. He was still staring at Cyrus. And Cyrus wasn’t used to cute boys staring at him. It should unnerve him, but he wasn’t uncomfortable, at all.
He couldn’t explain it but there was something about T.J. that made Cyrus feel comfortable, like he was someone he could trust.
“Why did you come here?” the blonde finally spoke up. “I mean… we didn’t know each other.”
“I told you. I wanted to thank you for giving my parents my journal last year. My mom told me everything.”
It made him overly curious about the mysterious T.J. who moved into his dad’s old house, befriended his friends, and helped him come out to his parents.
“I’m sorry,” T.J. quickly said, standing up. “I overstepped my boundaries but it only felt right to give it to them.”
“I know. And you have no idea how much I appreciated that you did that.”
And Cyrus meant it.
When his mother finally told him and even showed him the journal, he knew he was supposed to feel upset and violated. Yet, instead, he felt at peace. Somehow, a part of him was grateful for the person who allowed his parents to finally see the real him.
“It wasn’t the ideal way to come out,” he admitted. “But, considering the circumstances, I could have died. And my parents would have never known. I know I’d regret it in the afterlife.”
T.J. winced, looking away and staring at the window. He looked upset. Was it something Cyrus said? Maybe he felt guilty for outing Cyrus? He really shouldn’t.
Still, he moved forward and placed a hand over T.J.’s arm, squeezing gently in what he hoped was comforting.
“I’m not mad at you,” Cyrus said. “I appreciate what you did. I swear.”
Finally, T.J. turned back to him, looking worried. “Do you… remember anything from when you were in a coma?”
That was an unexpected inquiry.
Cyrus shook his head as he removed his hand from the other boy’s arm.
“No, not really. Like I said, it was kind of like waking up from a nap.” He furrowed his brows, remembering a few blurry images and a distant yet familiar voice. “I know I dreamed. I definitely dreamed. I just don’t remember what the dream was.”
T.J. blinked and turned away again. “Yeah… I figured.”
There was something sad and melancholic in the tone of his voice. He sounded… heartbroken.
Cyrus was hit with the overwhelming need to wrap him in his arms.
“So… what happens now?” T.J. asked. “Did you tell Andi and the others yet?”
“Not yet. We only got back yesterday so we’re still in the middle of moving in. For some reason, I just... needed to come here and meet you, first, before anything else. But, I asked my mom to call them over to the house this afternoon. My parents decided to live in the same block this time instead of opposite sides of the town, so they can keep a better eye on me. And… I’m kinda nervous to see them. But, excited, too! Definitely excited. I missed them.”
Now, T.J. turned back to him, a small smile playing on his lips. “They missed you, too. You have no idea how much I… they missed you.”
He was really handsome when he smiled. Cyrus hoped they could be friends so he could see it more often.
His phone beeped and when he checked it, he saw a text message from his mother asking him if he was coming home soon. He supposed it was time. He still had some memory exercises to work on. And probably some physical exercises too before the girls and Jonah (hopefully) would arrive that afternoon.
This time, he knew he couldn’t get out of exercising because he needed it if he wanted to make a full recovery.
“I have to head home, now,” he announced, feeling kind of sad.
It was only for a few minutes but he liked hanging out with T.J. He wanted to get to know him more.
To his delight, T.J. offered to walk him home.
“So I can visit you sometime,” he explained.
Cyrus’ heart fluttered and he couldn’t deny the attraction any longer.
Funny. It took him ages to realize he had a crush on Jonah. Not even an hour with T.J. and he was already admitting to it.
As they walked, Cyrus rambled on and on. He talked about L.A. and how much he liked it, the rehab center and the people he met there, and the exercises he had to do to get his motor skills going and his memory to sharpen. He hoped T.J. didn’t mind him talking so much but talking was also a way for him to better his speech skills.
He didn’t realize how little he took for granted simple things such as remembering, walking, and talking before he was unable to do so properly for months. Now, he wasn’t going to waste a single minute of this second chance at life.
He was going to live his life to the fullest.
T.J. didn’t seem to mind him talking so much, at all. In fact, he seemed rather enthusiastic, answering and asking questions in turn. He even told Cyrus that he was originally a California guy, hailing from San Francisco, so he had visited L.A. a few times with his mom and sister. (But, he clearly had a bias for San Francisco.)
“Are you gonna enroll at Grant, then?” T.J. asked him while Cyrus was trying to catch his breath. “You were gonna go there, right? Before the whole… you know.”
Cyrus wondered how much T.J. knew about the circumstances of his coma. Did he know about Cyrus’ mental state back then? Everything that led up to the accident? Most likely, the girls and Jonah told him, but they didn’t know it was an accident either. Even his parents thought that he did it on purpose until he corrected them.
Truth be told, Cyrus wasn’t sure he was ready to talk about it to someone other than his therapist.
“No, I’m not,” he replied to T.J.’s question. “I’m not fully recovered yet. I’m still going through all the therapies and… well… I don’t think I’m ready to… you know… go back to the school and act normal, like nothing happened.”
The thought of having to put on a face and pretend for everyone made a pit form in his stomach.
T.J.’s face fell. “Oh.”
“But, we can still hang out!” Cyrus added, quickly. “I’d love to get to know you better… and be friends!”
He hoped his excitement wasn’t too obvious.
The smile returned to T.J.’s face. “Yeah?”
Cyrus nodded. “Yeah. Definitely.”
Finally, they reached Cyrus’ new home. They must have talked for quite some time because Cyrus barely noticed the minutes flying by. The ache in his knees told him enough, though.
Now, he was standing in his driveway, not quite wanting to part from T.J. yet. He was really enjoying their talk.
“Um, do you want to come by this afternoon with Andi, Buffy, and Jonah?” he asked. “You didn’t text them, did you?”
Chuckling, T.J. shook his head. “No, of course not. That’s your truth to tell.” He appeared to contemplate his answer. “And as much as I’d like to, I don’t want to impose on your time with them. I mean, I had you this morning. It’s their turn.” Then, he turned red. “I mean, you came by to see me this morning! So, this is their time, you know. And, uh, they’d… really like to see you… Cause I liked seeing you… I mean, to see that you’re okay! And well and… alive. I’m really glad you’re alive.’
Blushing, himself, Cyrus couldn’t stop the little giggle that escaped him. (He was giggling!)
“Thank you,” he said. He bit his lip, feeling shy all of a sudden. “Um… So… I’ll see you around?”
T.J. nodded, his lips upturned into the biggest smile Cyrus had seen all morning. “Definitely.”
A beat passed. Then two.
Cyrus didn’t know what compelled him to or where the courage came from.
But, soon, he found his legs moving forward and, upon reaching the taller boy, his toes lifted him up. He pressed a kiss to T.J.’s cheek.
T.J. let out a soft gasp.
Realizing what he just did, Cyrus stumbled back, horrified hand over his mouth.
“Oh my god! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! I’m sorry, T.J.! I didn’t know why I did that! It was too forward of me and I’m so sorry! I’m sure you feel uncomfortable but I swear, I’m normally not like this and-.”
“Cyrus!” T.J. laughed, stepping forward to grasp Cyrus’ hand. “It’s okay! Really!”
Cyrus’ heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. His body was all warm and his lips tingled from where they pressed on T.J.’s cheek.
He had never felt like this before. Not with someone he just met. He didn���t believe in that love at first sight stuff. But, the moment he met T.J., everything just felt so… right.
“You still remember,” T.J. whispered.
Cyrus furrowed his brows. “Remember what?”
But, T.J. shook his head. “Nothing. Sorry. Just… that was a surprise. But, I can’t say I didn’t like it. Cause I did. Like it, I mean.”
T.J.’s hand in his felt nice.
“It’s… strange.” Cyrus gently squeezed the hand. “I feel like I know you so well already even though we just met. I just can’t help but trust you.”
T.J.’s smile was blinding and his eyes twinkled as he gazed at Cyrus. “I know what you mean. Maybe it’s because Andi, Buffy, and Jonah talked about you so much. But, I know that the real thing is a thousand times better.”
God, was he always this smooth?! They only just met and he was making Cyrus feel all kinds of giddy things he had only read about before or watched on T.V. Would it be always like this the more they get to know each other?
“Um… I hope this isn’t too forward but… Are you doing anything tomorrow? Do you want to go out?” T.J. asked.
Cyrus wanted to scream.
Was he still in a coma?! Did the cutest guy he had ever laid eyes on just ask him out on a date?! Just after an hour of knowing him?!
“We could have lunch at The Spoon. Maybe take a walk in the park? You like swings, right? We could go swinging.”
Cyrus forced his voice to come out. “Like… a date?” he croaked.
It was T.J.’s turn to look shy. “Yeah. If that’s okay. I mean, it doesn’t have to be a date. We can just hang out as friends. If you want, we can ask the others to come with us and make it a group thing and… well… yeah.”
His heart really needed to calm down so he could give a proper answer without his voice shaking.
“I’d like that,” he managed. “For it to be a date, I mean.” He cleared his throat and flashed a smile. “I’d love to go on a date with you, T.J.”
And, with those few words, the blonde’s face lit up like a child at Hanukkah.
“G-Great! I mean, awesome!”
He let out a laugh and without warning, he pulled Cyrus into his chest again, wrapping his arms around him.
So, T.J. was a hugger. Cyrus had no complaints about that. He liked hugging. And holding hands (and T.J. was also clearly a hand holder).
When they finally broke apart, both of them were grinning. Cyrus’ cheek hurt from how wide his lips were stretching but he hadn’t felt this happy in a long time.
Quickly, they exchanged numbers.
“So…” said Cyrus.
“So…” T.J. repeated, cheekily. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Cyrus nodded, giddy. “Tomorrow.”
He stepped forward and gave T.J. another hug goodbye before forcing himself to break away and walk to his front door.
When he turned around to catch one more glimpse of the blonde, T.J. was already walking away but right at that moment, he also looked back at Cyrus. Their eyes met and a kind of understanding passed between them.
Cyrus didn’t know what it was, exactly. But, one thing was for sure.
This was just the beginning for them.
All this time, he felt lost.
But, now, he felt like he had been found.
He had a new reason for living.
A/N: Well, there’s that. I hope it was a nice surprise! It took everything in me not to just blurt it out whenever you guys told me how sad you were. But, I hope this was worth it! Again, thank you so much for all your support and for following this story! I’m very grateful!
And I hope everyone lives their life to the fullest! Live it with kindness, gratitude, and love!
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Your Friendly Neighbourhood, Wizard. (Alex Russo/Justin Russo Fanfiction)
Prologue
Pairing: Superhero! Alex Russo x Justin Russo, Slowburn.
Genre: Action, Humour, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Romance
Warnings: mild/explicit language, Injuries, sisterxbrother.
Set: After Season 4x10 "Wizards Vs. Angels" (Which is somewhat heavily involved in both Alex and Justin’s separate storylines.) + “Back to Max”.
Est. Length: 8 Chapters.
Summary: After defeating the dark angels, Justin continues to teach his delinquent class unconsciously suppressing his guilt over the ramifications of the moral compass. Simultaneously, Alex unconventionally stumbles into a superhero gig. Inept and unprepared, great power and an even greater burden is placed on her shoulders. Bothered by his sisters reoccurring absence, Justin determinedly investigates her distant behaviour. Meanwhile, Alex is forced to face a truth she’d always buried, discovering it unwillingly from a formidable powerful being she will have to defeat.
Disclaimer/Author's Note: I’ve been brainstorming this fic probably since quarantine started. It’s mostly inspired by Spiderman! Into the Spiderverse, Holland! Spiderman and Garfield! Spiderman. As well as the looks and feel of DC Comic’s Raven and Marvel’s Scarlet Witch. Other inspirations include music from Birds of Prey, On My Block, Euphoria. All of which I do not own. In addition, I sadly do not own Wizards of Waverly Place.
However, Alex’s origin story is wholly my own that I personally thought up myself (so let’s hope it’s believable) and if it correlates with any other superhero storyline it’s purely coincidental. The OC’s are also obviously my own creation.
“Do you know why you’re here, Alex Russo?”
“Ummm…” Alex backed up at the man's intense stare. She was pretty sure he was going for intimidation, but it fell short landing right on uncomfortable. “Not really…”
“Well, young lady,” His words were layered thick with haughtiness. Alex had just met the man today and she already knew she disliked him. “It seems you were part of a riot in central park.”
“No…” She narrowed her eyes at him, shook her head, even elongated the word in an attempt to get it through his thick skull. “I was trying to get home.”
She was actually trying to find her wand, but he didn’t need to know that. The wand that Rosie and Gorog decided to fling off the dark realm tower. The detailed image of it glowing magic in the night sky as it twirled to its doom stayed seared to the front of her mind. She could even hear her own cry for it as everyone watched it go. My wand.
“So what were you doing in Central Park?” Right after returning the moral compass she searched Central Park assuming it had landed there. Key word: assuming. It was hard to calculate where objects falling off towers landed. For her, it was hard to calculate in general.
“A girl can’t go to one of New York City's finest parks just for the fuc- fun of it.” She replied with a smile, catching herself before she swore. It was just her luck to get the arrogant, novice, goody-two-shoes, by-the-book cop. They didn’t enjoy it when she did that.
“And you just happened to be hanging out with an enraged mob?” He asked mockingly. Okay so...she did get mixed up in a riot. Which wasn’t her fault. She was too focused at the task at hand to pay any attention to the crowd of screaming people she had walked through. What was more concerning was that one of those fuckers was stepping all over her wand, or worse one of them had already snapped its cherry redness in two.
“I wasn’t hanging out with them-”
“Yeah, instead you were disturbing the peace and provoking assaults.” Alex had to stay low to the ground for any sign of her wand which perhaps caused a few people to accidentally trip over her. There was also a minor possibility that her assertive bumping into others unintentionally started some fights. This all lead to Richard here (according to his desk tag), cuffing her and bringing her to the NYPD Central Park precinct. Meaning her wand had been left behind, defenceless against the grimy boots of crabby New Yorkers...if it was even there to begin with.
“How do you disturb the peace in a riot?” Alex fired back.
“Ms. Russo, you’ve had a record since you were twelve.” He said, abruptly switching topics and ignoring her. Rude much. To prove his point he made a show of flailing her folder around. It was a decent size for her age, Alex inwardly complimented herself. The first crime listed there was in summer 2004, when she sold those fake broadway tickets to unsuspecting tourists. That summer was a blast: hundreds of ice cream sandwiches and magazines.
“This behaviour is to be expected.” He finished. Alex suppressed an eye roll, this dude was getting on her nerves. Yes, she had a few run ins with the cops, but that didn’t mean she was always guilty of doing something vaguely illegal. Ever since she became a wizard, she'd barely caused any trouble with the mortals, Alex commended herself. Her last record was a good year ago, with a little vandalism and conning going under the radar but that was it. In their eyes, she could have set herself straight since then. Which she did.
What happened to the benefit of the doubt, what happened to believing people could change. Screw him and his patterns. And screw her wand for not being in Central Park. Now she’d have to buy a new one she sulked, slouching lower in the hard chair.
“I don’t like your attitude, Missy.” He said, noting her behaviour. ”Kids these days, not respecting the police.”
Oh my gosh, I just wanna go home. Richard Owens (what a lame name) continued typing at his computer, probably adding ‘riot starter’ to her record. He’d been holding her here for an hour now, still trying to gather evidence and witness accounts to file in her record. So far he had zero, zip, nada, not a single thing. Since everyone's memory seemed to be fuzzy, which she guessed was due to the moral compass.
Alex was annoyed at him and his cockiness. Annoyed at this hard chair that was making her butt fall asleep. Annoyed at the amount of people in this room, and how overly hot it. Would it kill them to crack open a window or turn up the air conditioning.
“Is that you, Alex Russo?” A woman said, approaching the desk. Oh finally her saviour.
“Wassup, June!” Alex grinned up at Song Namjoo, or June, as Alex called her. Much to Namjoo's displeasure. Not so much the name as it was Alex being an annoying little shit.
“What’d you do now?” She asked, placing a hand behind Alex’s chair, leaning forward to scan over the computer. The woman had her hair pulled down into its signature low bun, not a hair out of place. Her pristine police sergeant uniform was pressed to perfection with not a single crease, something Justin would greatly admire.
“No way, June you passed your Police Sergeant Exam!” Alex exclaimed. “You look dope.” She nodded in approval.
“Yeah.” June modeled for a second, before straightening her posture. “Passed about six months ago.”
“Well congratulations.” Alex smiled, genuinely proud. June was her life saver, and lowkey pain in her ass. Wherever she caused a ruckus (exclusively non magical) June would shortly be there. June had stopped a lot of unwanted things from going on her record, and also had a way of calming down Jerry and Theresa when they threatened to send her to the military. On the other hand, it's like she had some sort of Alex specific third eyes always managing to catch her in the act. Plus, her lectures were lengthy and boring and she didn't even allow Alex the option to sleep through them. In a way, she was Justin, if he were in the police force and was, you know, a Korean woman.
She shivered at the thought. Sure, Justin saved her a few too many times but that was because he was her brother. June was altruistic, she held herself with poise and grace. Like a cool aunt who'd let you off the hook halfway then let you decide for yourself the rest of the way. Besides, June was high-key a badass and Justin still cried over 'Mantooth'.
She felt a light pinch on her arm, automatically ready to shout 'POLICE BRUTALITY!' catching herself as she connected eyes with June.
June subtly raised an eyebrow in question towards Alex as if to say ‘What did you do now?’ Alex shrugged in response, her face saying ‘I’m innocent I swear’. June in turn gave her a half believing/ half disbelieving expression, before rolling her eyes. Which was always code for ‘Fine, I believe you’. After knowing June for a good 5 years they'd learned to read each others facial expressions pretty well. It helped with her record, it definitely helped with the parents.
“Okay really Richard a riot starter.” June stared at the man with clear judgement on her face. “Leave the girl alone. We have bigger things to worry about then a riot starter.”
“Oh, like what, June?” Richard goaded. First he disrespects Alex, and now June. Alex doesn’t know a lot of things she will admit, but she picked up on workplace professionalism. To begin with June was a higher ranking officer meaning she was above him. And Richard said her name without its formal title, displaying a lack of respect. Alex watched as June’s expression turned perplexed, or more accurately her ‘bitch, what did you just say?’ look. Alex wished she had popcorn now and a comfy chair.
“First of all, that is Sergeant Song to you Richard. Secondly, maybe you’ve been on desk duty for too long but we’re dealing with a lot more than riots.” June started. This was gonna be good. “There have been innumerable cases of aggravated assaults, burglaries, thefts, property crimes, arsons, and attempted murders. The crime rate has exponentially increased on this day alone. It’s worst than the 80s, Richard.” As the venom dripped from June’s mouth, Alex was quickly realizing what truly happened this night. “Every precinct in New York is packed to the brim and every hospital too. There are more citizens than staff members. And to top it off, a lot of these people had no previous record before this night. No explanation why they would do this and barely any remembrance of what they did. Not even a full moon could explain this utter fuckery!” She exclaimed, motioning around the precinct.
Alex cringed, knowing exactly what had caused this, or more accurately who. She didn’t realize how serious turning that moral compass was. It had only felt like a game of tug a war with her brother like what they did as kids. She even played around with him, tricking him into thinking he had broken the thing so she’d gain the upper hand. When they were flying above the dark realm tower, pulling and pushing they felt so far removed from the world. It was literal child’s play, no throwing punches, no broken bones just like a high school grip test.
But, she could see the damage they caused now. The place was overfilled with people. At each desk, in the cells, standing around. Some bleeding out, others with lost expressions on their faces, the ones she couldn’t even look at were the people crying. All these people had done something bad or suffered because of it. All because that moral compass pointed in the wrong direction a little too long.
“And out of everyone in that riot you chose the person farthest from the action, a clear bystander.” Alex wanted to laugh bitterly at that, if only these people knew just how involved she really was in this. If only they knew their desire to do good relied on a floppy arrow on a disk. But, she’d never tell them this, she’d let people continue to believe they had a bigger choice in their lives. That’s what she had to do as a wizard. As long as it saved her ass. As long as it didn’t affect her.
“So yes Richard there are bigger things than a 17 year old girl.” June finished. The room was completely silent, all eyes staring at Richard. It was so quiet Alex could hear the sound of Richard’s ego deflating like a balloon, saw his face turning as red as a tomato until he resembled a sheepish boy who had just been scolded by his mom in front of all his friends. She couldn’t even take pleasure in his pain, now faced with her own mistakes.
Ha, take that dick. She tried to lighten her spirits. Cause like dick is the nickname for Richard. It didn’t work that well.
And…
Richard let her go, with no new record of ‘inciting a riot’, all thanks to June and how she completely dragged him through the mud.
June walked her to the front door of the precinct, stopping at the door.
“Okay bye Alex. I wish I didn’t have to say this…” June said, taking a deep breathe and closing her eyes to ground herself. “See you soon.” She gave a fake smile.
“You know me so well June. I’ll be sure to bring my best stuff next time, though.” Alex replied back keeping her humour up. She was still a little unsettled at the amount of people she saw on her way out.
“Aha.” June laughed drily, clearly not amused. “Stay in school, kid." And then she was pushed out of the building.
Just as Alex took her first steps away from the precinct, "Hey! The streets are worse tonight, stay safe Alex.” June shouted before shutting the door.
Alex looked back, a sigh heavy on her lips. She composed herself, her mood quickly lightening at the prospect of going home. Which meant her bed, which meant lying down, which meant sleep.
She wouldn’t walk of course. Use magic, definitely. If someone thought she was gonna walk home, they were sadly mistaken.
Looking around to see if anyone was watching she backed into the nearest alley.
“Woah, watch out kid!-”
She was pushed with brute force into the alley wall. Are you kidding me? She smacked right into the bricks, her elbows preventing her face from getting smashed. Hadn’t she been jostled enough today. She stiffened as she felt a bolt of magic graze past her, causing the hairs on her arms to stand up.
Wait a minute… Magic? There was a wizard.
She turned around to see a woman in a Kevlar black suit push a man further into the alleyway. The woman threw a punch to the man’s face, a crackle of blue magic extended through her fist causing the man to crash into the wall.
“What the fuck.” Alex whispered. She must have actually hit her head because this couldn’t be real.
The woman turned to Alex, her dark blue boxer braids swinging with the movement. A mask covered half her face, but all Alex could see were her eyes glowing blue in the dark, as if rimmed with the magic. “Leave, now-“
“Watch out!” Alex screamed back, seeing the man getting up already. A bright pulse of white magic extended through his fingertips towards the masked woman, who quickly ducked dodging it, giving a swift kick to the man's stomach.
He was thrown off balance, long enough for the woman to turn to Alex shooting a burst of blue magic into her direction.
Alex brought her hand in front of her as if to stop it. Was this woman trying to kill her? She closed her eyes, ready for impact.
Then opened them to silence and a vast space of whiteness. She was in the wizard portal. The masked lady had teleported her here.
So, the blue magic lady was a wizard and a superhero…and people were still being bad even after the moral compass was returned.
Alex thought about it for a moment. Then with a shrug of her shoulders she brushed it off, beginning to walk to the lair.
Frankly, Alex was exhausted: her back hurt from flapping those wings, her knees were sore from all of the heavy landings she endured with the wings, her arms ached from that tug-a-war contest she had with Justin, her butt was sore from that hard chair, her feet ached from all the walking she did and she nearly got zapped in the face with magic. On top of all of that, she still didn’t know where her wand went.
Alex sighed in relief when she finally got to the lair. All that walking was making her even more tired. She pushed the door open, determined to get to bed and collapse. But her steps faltered when she was greeted by the sight of her brother looking down at a white feather.
It didn’t take a genius to realize the feather was Rosie’s. Alex was worried at the sight of him, grasping a feather from another lost love wasn’t a good sign. And more than that he hadn’t been himself for the past week. She’d barely talked to him for the past week, so she was nervous to see how he was after everything.
“Justin…” She began, confusion laced in her tone. He turned at her voice.“What are you doing still up? It’s late.” And also past his appointed bedtime.
“I stayed up because I owe you something.” He began. Her cherry red wand in his hand. Her glorious cherry red wand she’d been looking everywhere for. Finally, reunited with what had been plaguing her mind all night her eyes immediately brightened at the sight of it. She grasped at it with both hand, smiling down at her wand.
“I found it in Washington Square Park.” Oh, Washington Square Park. Damn she really did suck at calculating. Nevermind, the fact that it was in the complete opposite direction. “A two-headed dog had it. Pretty sure he didn’t start out that way.”
So her wand was chilling in lower Manhattan with a two headed dog as she searched the grounds of upper Manhattan, tripping people over and starting fights, and getting caught by the police. She giggled at that, amused with what her night turned into.
“Thank you.” She genuinely meant it. “What about your wand?”
“I, uh…” He held his wand up, inspecting it for a moment just to show her the sad state it was in; snapped in half with duct tape barely holding it together. She laughed at her brother’s antics. Secretly, relieved to have her brother back. Him and even his humour. Yup, he was still Justin. “I’ll find a spell to fix it.”
He set his wand down and turned to face her, an earnest expression on his face. Alex was taken aback by the swift change in atmosphere, the room suddenly feeling more serious. “And I owe you something else.”
He came forward. Her eyes flickering at his movement. Oh, And we’re hugging.
His arms wrapped around her, bending down to rest his chin on her shoulder. He quietly uttered, “Thank you for saving me.” while comfortingly rubbing her back as he always did. Ever since they were children, it was a soothing motion he always did when he hugged her. A distinct movement they could focus on together to calm down. She nodded slightly, silently appreciating the moment.
“It’s for all the times that you saved me when I wasn’t so good.”
Countless images were brought to mind, most prominent of all: a campfire in the rainforest. She began to feel nostalgic and a bit anxious. Not fond of the emotions, she quickly lightened the atmosphere. “And for a couple more times in the future, so we’re even.” She finished with a smile, satisfied with her little joke.
“No, we’re not.” Justin replied, coming to sit down on the desk beside her. “You saved the world today.”
She studied him for a moment, silently disagreeing with his words. She was only trying to get him back, everything else, saving the world was secondary to that.
She’d never admit how anxious she felt seeing Justin so unlike himself: stealing flowers, using magic in public, and stomping on people's groceries. Overall being a jerk. The worst of it was when she revealed Rosie's true nature, he still chose her, a girl he’d known for less than a month than his own sister. A dark angel, whose values would never align with his own. And when she tried one last desperate time to get him back he still chose darkness. Only turning good because of that girl. It hurt more than she thought it would.
But Alex had to remind herself of something very important: that Justin was the one influenced by dark angels. That he wasn’t himself at the time and that scarily some powers are greater than her connection to her brother. So she’d keep it to herself, shove it in the back of her mind like she usually did with all of her emotions, and ignore it, until she’d be forced to confront it.
Instead, she focused on the reassurance she’d gotten when Justin finally came back. How happy she was when he immediately told her to put the moral compass back, in that commanding voice he used when he would clean her messes. The ease she felt now that he was once again right beside her. Like a puzzle piece clicking back into place (and screw him for making her think of boring puzzles). This is where he was meant to be.
She would never say that out loud so she said, “You gave up a girl to protect it” instead.
She watched a faraway expression take on his face, familiar to the one he wore in Transylvania when he lost Juliet. He’d lost Rosie now, and a few weeks ago she'd learned she wasn't meant to be with Mason. It’s like they were both cursed to never have a happy ending. Only ending up with the comfort of each other.
She didn’t think about how established this felt. Or the strange notion that perhaps this was how her happy ending was supposed to be.
In an attempt to stop herself from wandering too far back in her mind, she asked him. “Why do we have to keep dealing with stuff like this?” He was Justin and he always had the answer. She could always count on him.
“We’re wizards.” And it was like that was the be all, end all. “I don’t think we have a choice.” The plain and simple answer.
It was horrible how that answer alone made complete sense to her. How she’d just thought about it in that overpacked precinct. All of her mistakes and losses were always tied into being a wizard.
So, maybe she was past the point of caring, past sadness and moving into delirium with a little sprinkle dead tiredness because she smiled instead. She smiled up at him and he caught her before she turned away. He bumped her with his shoulder, bouncing her away and back to him.
They were settling back into their pattern. Just the two of them: Justin and Alex. She sighed contentedly and a little tiredly resting her head on her big brother's shoulder, feeling his head rest on hers.
For all her mistakes and all her losses at least she always had her Justin.
And she hoped he knew for all his mistakes and all his losses he’d always have his Alex.
She closed her eyes, fully ready to sleep.
“We’ll be okay, right?” Justin quietly asked.
Alex yawned, furrowing her brows slightly at the unexpected question. Maybe they should have been more aware in this moment, appreciated it more. Maybe she could have helped him better if she’d paid more attention. Maybe, he could have protected her better from darker things than angels.
“Yeah, we’ll be fine.”
For Alex would soon face a burden so great it would compromise her relationship with those around her. After all, with great power comes great responsibility.
#Wizards of Waverly Place#wowp#Alex Russo#Justin Russo#Jalex#Fanfiction#Alex Russo x Justin Russo#Justin Russo x Alex Russo#Alex x Justin#Justin x Alex#mystories#wizards of waverly place fanfiction#wowp fanfiction#myfanfiction
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