#the exterior shots of the house from the road are mirrored from what the house layout actually is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

piecksz · 3 years

Text

starstruck | (m)

pairings: rockstar!eren yeager x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, penetrative sex, fingering, creampie, roughness, drug use, explicit language

words: 4.4k+

summary: you and your friend decide to sneak backstage at your band��s favorite concert and the vip treatment you recieve is more than you bargained for.

inspired by

a/n: you know the drill :p obey (with YUNGBLUD) by bring me the horizon it’s literally not a sexy song so don’t go in listening to it expectin to get horny LMAOO it’s just the kind of sound i imagined eren’s band to have, but it was sexy to me bc the image of rockstar eren tormented me the entire time i wrote this

“I can’t believe I agreed to this. This is fucking crazy.” Your friend’s voice was a fidgety whisper behind you. Her face’s close proximity to the back of your neck had her heavy expiration fanning over your nape every time she opened her mouth to reprimand herself for allowing you to beguile her into illegal trespassing.

“You’re fucking crazy,” she whispered again, tugging the leather sleeve of your jacket with a pesky grip.

You shrugged her touch off of your arm and took a brief glimpse over your shoulder to offer her a sour look. “Can you be quiet? You freaking out is making us look suspicious.” You whisked your head back around, peering around the corner of the vacant merch tent.

“No, us creeping around to sneak onto a fucking tour bus is making us look suspicious,” she retorted.

The corner of your mouth tightened at your friend’s concern and you lifted your hand to give her a dismissive wave. You were astounded when she had originally agreed to your brazen proposal, although it took minutes of incessant pleading for her to actually give in. Her veiled reluctance surfaced the minute you two had separated from the concert’s crowd at the end of the show and snuck around the stage to the back of the venue. What began as her unease and quiet suggestions that maybe your idea wasn’t so smart, intensified into irritating nagging. You gave her the option to turn around and wait for you back at the car, but as your companion, she sighed and remarked that something so stupid couldn’t be done alone.

“I see it,” you said eagerly and with a proud grin. The vehicle was stationed a decent distance from where the two of you had been standing, but you measured the stretch with your eyes and figured that if you walked quickly enough, you’d be able to make it on without being caught.

“How do we even know they’re on it?” Your friend craned her head past yours to get a better view of what you saw.

“We don’t. I’m just guessing.”

“Oh great, that’s exactly the answer I wanted.” She released a tense and quiet laugh before retreating back behind the screen of the tent.

You surveyed the security guards as they patrolled back and forth along the premises, waiting until the coast was clear. Once you noticed an opening, you forcefully grabbed your friend’s wrist, ignoring her silent grunt of protest, and pulled her along. She stumbled into your stride and peered over at you, doing her best to follow your quick feet while mirroring your nonchalant guise.

Closer and closer, the two of you neared the tour bus until it had to have been only yards away. You tried to remain composed through your excitement, making sure you didn’t break your character. No fucking way your plan had actually gone off without a hitch, it almost seemed too easy.

“Hey!”

You kept walking. Maybe the exclamation wasn’t for you, but once the holler was thrown again, your body went rigid, and the tempo of your steps slowed until you stopped in your tracks. The adrenaline that commanded your legs had been substituted for lead and it kept your feet pinned to the ground. You couldn’t even run.

“Hey, you two aren’t supposed to be back here.”

You blinked once, long and hard, before pivoting on your heel. You watched, mortified, as a burly security guard started in your direction and got closer until he loomed over you both with a threatening advantage in height.

He looked even angrier now that you could see the way his thick eyebrows creased together and created a ripple of lines above them that disappeared into a bald head. His hefty arms were crossed against his chest while he glowered down at you two, waiting to hear a story. You could tell your excuse wouldn’t matter though, it was obvious he wasn’t in the mood for jocular conversation.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, we were looking for the bathroom,” you explained, clasping your hands together and feigning an apologetic smile. You turned your head from side to side, looking around innocently to sell your lie, and then looked back up at the guard with a nervous laugh. “And I guess it’s not here.”

Your friend shook her head and said nothing, but you were certain she was drawing up a creative speech in her head, wondering how she would tell you that she “told you so” this time.

“Nice try.” The guard curled his lip angrily. “Come on.” He reached out a thick hand and wrapped it around your bicep while grabbing the back of your friend’s shirt with a crude yank. Your eyes went wide at his hostile grip and you jerked your arm, trying to free yourself of his hold.

“Hey, whoa!” His grip only tightened. “We can walk ourselves!”

The guard forced you two forward, prompting you to walk so he could escort you off the grounds.

“What’s going on?”

You looked up and your writhing ceased. Instead, heat flushed your cheeks and you stood dazed. It didn’t take long before you recognized the owner of the voice because, naturally, you would have been able to recognize him from a mile away, but luckily you didn’t have to. He was right in front of you.

It was Eren, the lead singer and guitarist of the band you had been screaming your heart out to not even an hour ago. He was your favorite member, meaning you’d watched countless interviews and had several pictures of him saved on your phone, but nothing could have prepared you for what he looked like up close. His long brown hair looked like it was still damp with sweat, a sign of his showmanship on stage, and it framed his face in careless wisps and fell loosely past his shoulders. His torso was unclad, showing the dark inkings that adorned his biceps and stretched all the way up his shoulders until they met at the detailed design of wings in the middle of his chest. Dark ripped jeans sat loosely, just below his hips, and teased a peek at deep v-lines that ran underneath the top of his waistband.

You fought off the urge to drop to your knees and pray for how sinfully hot he looked.

Trailing behind him were his bandmates, Armin and Jean, the band’s other guitarists, and Connie, the band’s drummer. You had never seen such an attractive circle of friends where you would have been satisfied taking any of them, and although you avowed to your friend that Connie was hers since she favored him, you absolutely would’ve allowed him to do whatever he wanted to you.

“Caught these two trying to sneak onto the tour bus.” The security guard thrusted you two ahead with an unsatisfied huff, and you shot him a glare.

Eren’s attention dropped from the security guard’s face and drifted over to your friend first before settling on you, eyes sweeping over your face and falling at half-mast. He arched an eyebrow then averted his gaze from your chest.

“It’s cool, let them go.”

“Are you sure?” The security guard’s grip on you loosened, and you pulled out of his hold the minute you felt him unhand you.

Eren shrugged. “Yeah. They can hang.” He quickly dismissed the security guard and casually sauntered past you before disappearing onto their bus.

You glanced over at your friend who looked like she was still in the process of trying to grasp the situation evolving in front of her.

“What kind of assholes turn away fans?” Jean teased, giving you a warm smile before he lifted his half-empty water bottle to his lips.

Connie switched his drum sticks to one hand and slipped them behind his back into his pocket. “You guys are fans, right? You’re not trying to steal a couple of used water bottles to sell online are you?”

You took a lengthy pause and waited for your friend to answer, giving her an opportunity to converse with him, but she said nothing. She just rocked back and forth on her feet, staring at the ground timidly to avoid looking Connie in the eye.

“No,” you answered for her. “I mean yes, we’re fans. Big fans. No to trying to sell your DNA.”

Your response earned a chuckle from Armin and a hearty laugh from Connie while he nodded in approval. “Alright.” He tilted his head in the direction of the bus as though encouraging you two on.

You watched as the rest of the members filed inside, and then your friend seized your hand frantically.

“Holy shit. Y/N, holy shit!” She squealed, and you snorted at her sudden ability to talk once again. “You saw him right? You saw him.” It didn’t take much detail for you to gather that she was gushing about Connie.

“Did you even see him? Your head was down the whole time, you didn’t say a single word to him.”

Your friend’s animated face slackened into a placid expression. “I didn’t trust myself. If I opened my mouth I would have asked him to put me in a headlock.” She exhaled. “Jesus Christ, those arms.” Your goading smile stretched into an amused grin, and you shook your head at your friend’s hysterical behavior.

The inside of the tour bus was much larger than you would have deduced from its seemingly modest exterior. Its floors were dark and polished wood that matched the ceiling, both surfaces lined with subdued yellow light. Aside from the sizable kitchen to your right, large leather couches sat on either side of the lounge area, and stretching to the bus’ rear were dimly lit bunk beds that were half-obscured by a dark curtain.

“Holy shit, this is a house on wheels,” your friend breathed, mouth agape.

“Well we’re on the road most of the time, so it might as well be,” Armin answered, throwing himself into one of the sofas with a labored sigh. He threw his head back in exhaustion and brought his arms up to rest against the top of the couch. “We never caught your names by the way.”

Both you and your friend introduced yourselves, forgoing a proper introduction from the band’s members. You evidently already knew who they were.

Armin smiled. “Nice to meet you guys.”

Jean shuffled through, handing you and your friend a water bottle, which you accepted with much appreciation. You hadn’t taken heed of how thirsty you’d been, and you hadn’t had anything to drink since the concert had started. Even while you swooned in the crowd between sweaty bodies, dehydration threatening to ruin your fun, you’d refused to pay $4 for a beverage.

“Make yourselves at home.” He threw another bottle to Armin.

“Oh no, we’re not planning on staying that long.” Your friend laughed, clutching onto her drink so tightly that the plastic squeaked in her grip.

You nudged her in the ribs with an assertive elbow and said her name quietly through clenched teeth, barely audible enough for the two of you to hear. She looked at you with uncertainty, and you gave her a forced grin.

“Don’t be rude. They said we should make ourselves at home.” You obliged to Jean’s invite, taking a seat in one of the leather cushions.

The situation you were in was a rare opportunity, the type of opportunity you’d only heard from other people, the type of opportunity you’d read fanfiction about in your early adolescence. If anyone told you that you’d be living such an opportunity, you weren’t sure if you’d really believe them, but had you declined to appease your friend’s irrational concern, you knew you’d regret it for years.

“Did you guys enjoy the show?” Connie leaned against the wall of the bus and wedged a rolled stick of paper between his pursed lips. He brought a hand-held lighter to the end of the stick, sparking it a few times with his thumb before a small flame engulfed the thin paper and thick smoke billowed from its tip. It only took a moment before the pungent, herbal stench of marijuana invaded the inside of the tour bus.

“Of course, you guys are amazing.” You nodded, perching yourself up in your seat and clapping your hands together excitedly. “We’ve been trying to see you guys in concert for a long time now.”

Eren fell into the seat beside you, and your body tensed up almost instantly. You’d managed to feign calmness from your first encounter because it had been easy to masquerade your nervousness from a distance, but now that he was even closer, surely he could have heard your heart palpitating against your ribcage. Its beating grew even quicker once Eren sat back and slid his arm behind you to lay it atop the backrest.

“Yeah?” His voice was languid. “What’s your favorite song?”

“That’s a hard question,” you chuckled, suddenly becoming very interested in the sleeves of your jacket. “I seriously don’t know if I can pick just one.” It hadn’t been a hard question at all, but you simply couldn’t think through the smell of his faded cologne and the feeling of his naked chest up against the side of your arm.

“That’s cool,” Eren smiled, but responded plainly. “You smoke?”

Your eyes drifted up to see Eren offering you a partially-burnt joint in between two fingers. He inhaled deeply from his hit and exhaled, a thick white cloud rolling past his lips.

You hadn’t smoked before, and you weren’t an avid consumer of weed. One edible at a party had you manic until your friends had to calm you down in a separate room and reassure you that you weren’t dying, but you still accepted it hesitantly. You brought it to your lips and took a deep draw before erupting into a fit of coughs.

“Easy,” Eren laughed, and his warm hand rubbed the nape of your neck soothingly. He took the joint from your hands and held it towards Armin.

Your chest and throat heaved with the searing sensation of a foreign substance, and your body racked with an incessant wheeze until it was sure it had expelled all of the stuff. Eren beside you thought it was the funniest thing.

“So you guys in college?” Connie asked, this time directing his question to your friend since you clearly couldn’t respond.

She nodded quickly, still avoiding making eye contact with him. He must have noticed and thought it was endearing because the corner of his mouth quirked upward into a knowing smirk.

“Sick,” Eren remarked. “I dropped out of college, but you guys should stay in school, seriously.”

“Don’t worry I have no plans to drop out and become a musician,” you rasped once your coughing subsided.

He paused for a moment and then looked at you. “What about a boyfriend?” His eyes drank you in from bottom to top until he met your clueless stare.

“Do I have a boyfriend?” You blinked, and then the tip of your ears went up in an uncomfortable heat that spread over the side of your face until your skin was aflame with realization. “No.”

“That’s good.” Eren studied you from behind heavy lids and he lingered on your lips, his own spreading into a suggestive grin. “So it’s cool if I do this?”

He leaned in and affixed his lips at the curve of where your jaw met your ear. His mouth was hot and the kiss was wet against your feverish skin. He planted another one lower, against the hollow dip where your neck curved, and then he bent the arm resting behind your head, using his hand to turn your face toward him so that when he tilted himself forward again, he could kiss you without interference. His lips were soft and slow as they commanded your mouth to follow his rhythm, and you withheld a desperate and excited whimper once Eren slipped a seductive tongue past your teeth.

He relaxed another hand on your leg, rubbing slow circles into the top of your thigh while edging closer and closer to the top of your waistband. Once his leisure fingers skimmed over your pants’ button, he skillfully undid the first hole before moving on to your zipper. You made a small sound of protest and pulled back in embarrassment.

“In front of your bandmates?” you questioned in a breathy whisper.

Eren shrugged, looking unfazed. “They don’t care. Nothing they haven’t seen before.”

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. He was a goddamn celebrity for crying out loud, had you really thought you were the first girl he brought onto the bus to fuck? And he’d done it in front of his bandmates? You shifted uncomfortably, looking to Armin, Jean, and Connie who were now occupied with showing your friend pictures they’d been sent from professional photographers after past shows.

“I don’t know,” you admitted timidly.

Eren rolled his head to the side, visibly bothered by your response. He glanced over to his bandmates and swept through his locks with a lazy hand. “Hey, why don’t you guys go show her the stage set before they pack up?”

Your friend looked away from the laptop they were gathered around and over her shoulder. “But—.”

Eren’s fingers trailed up and down the side of your neck, clearly eager to resume your previous matters. Were you really about to pass up this chance?

You gave your friend a reassuring thumbs up alongside Eren’s suggestion. “I’ll come find you later.”

It almost seemed like Eren sent his bandmates an unspoken cue, because Connie quickly chimed in before your friend had another turn to object. “Yeah. It’s okay, we’ll take care of you.” He wrapped a tattooed arm around your friend’s shoulder and gave her a friendly shake.

You could almost see the rise and fall of her chest cease, and you actually grew worried for her. It looked like she had nearly died and came back to life, but her stunned face melted into a flustered smile and she laughed sheepishly. “Okay.”

Connie nodded and gave Eren a two finger salute before escorting your friend off the bus with Jean and Armin following closely behind.

Once the door to the bus closed Eren shifted his attention back to you.

“There. Problem solved.” His green eyes had darkened and clouded over with desire again. “You feel better?”

“I guess,” you murmured.

You didn’t get a second chance to speak because Eren’s lips coupled to yours once more, and his hands continued against your zipper before he slipped his fingers into your underwear. He brought two fingers to your slit, skimming lightly over the delicate skin before sliding his middle finger between your folds to part them.

You released a sharp gasp against Eren’s mouth as you felt the cold metal of his rings against your cunt, but he made no efforts to pull away. The earthy taste of marijuana on his tongue caused your head to swim and you began to feel the drug’s intoxicant effects yourself. Your limbs grew heavier as you lay slack against Eren’s body while the sensation of his soft strokes against your tender clit had you whimpering against his lips.

He dipped his finger down to your body’s orifice, sliding it into your hole to glaze the digit with your arousal.

“God, you’re so tight.” Eren’s voice was deep as he pulled away from your mouth and both of you looked down to watch the way he worked you. “I want you around my cock.”

Your hips jerked involuntarily against his hand with the mention of his desire, and he brought his touch back up to your clit, using your essence as lubrication. The bus was quiet except for the symphony of Eren’s husky pants and your lewd whines as he slowly quickened the pace when he felt your body begin to tremble against his.

“Fuck, Eren—,” you mewled. You hadn’t even given thought to how unusual his name sounded coming out of your mouth. Eren, the singer and lead guitarist of your favorite band had his fingers inside of your pants, and here you were moaning his name. “Oh fuck—.”

Your orgasm intensified quickly after its onset, you hadn’t even realized you were climaxing until your body was convulsing and your fingers were digging into Eren’s biceps.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—Eren—,” you cried.

“That’s it,” Eren cooed. “Atta girl.”

His fingers continued working against your clit until you wrapped a sweaty hand around his wrist, a silent plea for him to stop before he sent you into overstimulation.

He hummed in amusement and heeded your request before pulling his hands out of your underwear. Now he worked his hands against his own belt, unfastening the buckle before pushing his jeans down with his briefs in one swift and eager motion. His cock was half-hard and continued growing rigid after he took himself in his hand and began pumping his throbbing length.

You watched in wonderment as his palm worked painfully slow against his thick shaft, and pearls of precum gathered at his tip before dribbling down his swollen head. Your own dirty fantasies where you’d tried to envision how big Eren was hardly did him justice.

You rose to your feet, kicking off your shoes with haste, and stepped out of your pants. You shrugged off your jacket as well, realizing how uncomfortably sticky your sweaty arms felt against the leather material.

“Come here,” Eren hummed, and released his cock. He held his hands out for you to take, and he pulled you onto his lap. He supported your waist until your knees were mounted on either side of his thighs, and you pulled your underwear to the side, allowing his pulsating tip to prod your entrance.

“You gonna show me how well you ride?” he asked, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.

You nodded, resting your hands on his shoulders and undulating your wet folds against his cock. You released a desperate whimper every time he nudged your clit.

“Yeah? Show me.”

Eren watched as you slipped him in, and what started as a whine deepened into an obscene cry while you felt him stretch your walls out. You eased down until you sat at the base of his cock and he’d filled you to the hilt.

You dug your teeth into your lower lip, waiting to adjust to his girth before you slowly started moving up and down. Eren’s shallow breathing encouraged you while you lifted yourself up and then back down, each time releasing an agonizing sob.

“Good girl.” Eren’s large hands traveled up from your waist and rested on your chest. “Just like that.” He loosely cupped his hands over your clothed chest, adoring the way your quickening pace caused your breasts began to jounce underneath your shirt, but your ache to feel his touch everywhere along your skin became uncontrollable.

Your fingers curled around the hem of your top and you quickly slipped the material off, tossing it onto the couch beside you. You did the same with your bra, too impatient to fumble around with the pesky hooks.

Eren grinned lazily, before resting his palms against your breasts and giving them a small jiggle. He leaned forward, lolling his tongue out, and flicked its tip against the hardening bead of your nipple. He looked up at you with half-lidded eyes and smiled at the way you murmured his name before rolling his thumb over the wet skin.

“So fucking hot,” Eren praised. He gave your other breast a brisk slap, watching it shake with the impact, and then he took you in his mouth. He sucked hungrily before taking your nipple between his teeth and tugged on it.

You continued bouncing on Eren’s cock before he released a guttural groan and threw his head back. “Fuck, don’t stop.” The tattoos along his sweaty chest expanded with each uneven breath. “I’m gonna cum.”

Eren’s hands traveled down to your ass, and black-painted nails dug into your skin while he directed you up and down. You rolled your hips against him until you felt his cock jerk inside you, and then he was filling you up.

Eren unloaded himself into you and your walls fluttered around his quivering length. His balls spasmed, making sure he’d jettisoned every drop of thick, white cum. He pulled his cock out before your knees gave way and you collapsed next to him. Your pussy clenched around nothing, still adjusting to Eren’s absence, and you felt his release leak out of your hole.

You heaved, eyes strung tightly, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You had to have been dreaming. You kept your eyes closed, fearing that you’d wake, but they fluttered open instinctively when you felt Eren’s weight lift from beside you.

“Where are you going?” You watched as he tugged his pants up and fastened his buckle before shuffling around the bus looking for something. Jesus Christ, just how much stamina did this guy have?

“Your friend’s probably wondering what’s taking you so long,” Eren replied, disappearing behind the curtain leading to the bedroom in the back of the bus.

Your hand flew to your forehead and you sat up, feeling guilty that you had completely forgotten your friend. Knowing her, she was probably worrying herself sick wondering what Eren had possibly done to you. You started retrieving your clothes and getting dressed, but you paused momentarily, calling out to wherever Eren had been on the bus.

“I should give you my number.” You stuck a leg into your pants. “You know, just to keep in touch.” You stuck your other leg in and hopped around, pulling your pants up.

Eren reappeared from behind the curtain, tugging on a fitted black t-shirt. “Don’t worry about that.”

You popped your head out from under your shirt and reached for your jacket. You laughed lightly and gave him a confused look.

“Safety and shit. We can’t give our personal information out to just anyone.” He gave you a pitiful smile, but you could tell it was more for you than for him.

“Oh,” you responded quietly.

Eren seemed unconcerned with the guidelines he was given, as though he didn’t care much about whether he even remembered your name once they were on the road again.

“Don’t look so sad babe. You’re lucky.” He tilted his head toward you and raised his eyebrows. “Not everyone gets to fuck a rockstar.”

#eren smut #eren yeager smut #aot smut #attack on titan smut #eren yeager x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #aot au #eren yaeger smut #attack on titan au #eren yeager au

933 notes · View notes

btswishes · 3 years

Text

Love me for who I am now

Bucky x Reader ( Chapter 7)

Previous / Next (8)

Summary: You apply for the Stark internship and end up getting it, so now you have 5 months to make a good impression to continue working with the Avengers.

A/N: This delay wasn’t planned everyone. My computer had enough from online classes and decided to crash on me a couple of days ago. I had to send it for repair, but we are back now. I will post a bit more often from my usual schedule for a few days to try and compensate. Hope yall like this, sorry for any mistakes made. Enjoy.

Tag list: @vicmc624 @yasminwashere @darkacademic2

Word count: 4,301

Warmings: fights, harsh language, not part of the original MCU

Y/N- Your name

Y/L/N- Your Last Name

--------------------------------------

“ I am sorry to cut this lovely reunion short, but we are still in a HYDRA base and honestly I am sure I hear a clock ticking.” You pointed in the direction of the gentle muffled clicking sounds

“Guess they plan to level this place to the ground just in case.” Bucky pinched in

“The way it sounds, I plan to watch the fireworks from inside the car on our way AWAY!”

Peggy still in Steve’s arms, felt being lifted off the ground again like she was made from feathers, as he dashed through the now missing doors towards the premade exit. She kept silent for most of the escape, seeing how the situation was confusing as it is, there was no need to fuel the adrenalin more. The bomb was enough for now.

The grip Cap had on Peggy loosened, letting her jump in the backseat with his shield. Bucky’s big frame settled next to Steve in the front seat, but not before he threw you towards Agent Carter, less gently than his friend did.

“I am not a bag of groceries Barnes!” you kicked his seat, yet ended up getting ignored for the most part

With determination, Steve’s foot hit the gas making the car roar out – snow creating a cloud behind the tires.

The empty space filled with loud beating hearts, skipping and missing beats, going one over the other – starting to calm down only after some distance was put between them and the building.

“Guess I misunderstood the tiking sou-“ the whispers coming out from your lips were engulfed by the huge explosion following the thankfully small pieces hitting the rear of the vehicle. You and Peggy ducked your heads for safety measures. The men in front seemed too immersed in the road, couldn’t even notice the musical notes coming from Bucky’s metal arm, his body leaning out the window, as particles ricocheted off it .

“Barnes!” your fingers reached over to grab onto his weapon belts, pulling him back inside. This man had no regards to his life, making one stupid decision after the other. It didn’t help that Steve wasn’t even noticing it all. Sometimes it felt like they both shared the ‘stupid’.

“Calm down doll. I am trying to see through the dust cloud. Wouldn’t want Stevie to throws us off a cliff.”

“I. Can’t.Believe.You.Are.Joking.Right.Now!” each hit perfectly timed thumping off his broad shoulders

“Stop it you two! Call Stark.” The blonde man demanded, pulling Bucky’s attention from you and onto the earpiece. The deep stern voice of authority cut your upset streak immediately.

“Hey ladies, how was the ball?” Tony’s playboy tone rung through the car, presumably while he was twirling onto his work chair.

“Delightful.” You hissed between your teeth

“What is wrong Cinderella? Lost a shoe?”

“No, but we gained a member.”

“Calling Barnes a dog isn’t nice now.”

“Stark!” Bucky launched towards the dashboard, but Steve stopped him with his free arm, before clasping the gear stick again.

“HYDRA were doing something in there that might have worked.”Cap began talking “ Tony, we don’t plan on stopping at a safe house. I am driving us directly towards the compound. How fast can you meet us there?”

The mic picked up on Tony’s shifting body guessed by the screeching sound of his work chair “ I don’t know. How far are you from there? Fuck, I will call Happy to get me from Stark tower.”

“I am sorry to intrude in this discussion, but do you by chance mean Stark as in Howard Stark?” Peggy placed her hands onto Steve’s seat, pulling her body closer.

“Usually people don’t think of my father first thing when they hear my name.” Tony huffed out, a bit of pride bubbling in his long blood of geniuses.

“You are Howard’s son?!” she gasped audibly

“Umm, I thought people knew that about me already, as well as handsome, playboy, genius, billionaire. Google gives a good explanation too. Steve is this our new addition? I would be worried if the answer is yes.” The car fell silent for a couple of seconds “I will take that as my answer.”

“We are close.” Cap didn’t know how to deal with all this still, he just had to cut it short till everyone was gathered and maybe ignore the problem for the time being. Very bad coping mechanism.

“How many vodka shots do I need for this?” Tony’s equivalent to pre-workout when it came to Avengers related work. Maybe the only thing keeping him sane most of the time.

“Grab a bottle for me too.” You voiced loud and clear from the leaning position your body was resting in

“A bottle?! Fuck my life.” The earpiece cut off the conversation making Bucky place it back onto his ear. Silence laced the atmosphere once more, this time with no sound, but the motion of the car to keep company. Your eyes laid over everyone inside one by one, scanning them and their calm exterior. The drive was long and a bit suffocating to a point, where you had to open the window on your side to let some fresh air in.

“Ah, sorry.” You sighed out looking at Peggy’s scattering hair “I should have asked before opening it.” Her hand gently pushed the flying strands behind her ear flashing you’re a smile.

“It’s ok. I know how much you hate tight spaces, we used to find diners with tables next to open windows because of that.” There it was again, a chunk of true information about you throw directly out of the 40s at you in the 21st century. Steve’s gaze focused onto the reflection in the car mirror switching between his love’s soft gaze and your confused look thrown back at her.

“Calm down, we are almost there” Bucky’s fingers Morse coded a quick message to his ,on the edge friend, earing a nod and refocus back on the street.

The moment you entered the city again, Peggy’s eyes darted towards her side of the car scanning everything happening. The buildings were huge, people were dressed so different, their manners and way they carried themselves, it felt weird not what she grew up with and knew by memory. It felt lonely maybe, or sad that she had no means of going back, yet the man sitting in front of her was a dream come true. Something she had wished for for years now.

“I am not…home anymore am I?” no one answered her, giving just enough information to make her own conclusion. With a small flair Steve drove the car into the compound, parking it at its usual space. The blonde soldier opened the door slowly, reaching his hand out for the agent to take, as baffled as she still was at this point. You found it so sweet how he was showing his feelings towards Peggy without saying a word, still lost in the mission. While Bucky was fixing himself up, he noticed the way your gaze laid over the two lovebirds in a longing stare. A gentle smirk pulled on his lips, before pushing out of the car and gripping your door handle. An unlocking sound shot your head, throwing your hair in the opposite direction.

“What are you doing?” you asked him, tripping over the end of the question lightly

“Something you will never admit you want.” His flesh arm reached out for yours to take, letting you marvel at his huge stance for a moment. The hesitation dissolved with the reflection of yourself inside his ocean blue eyes.

An old melancholic memory blew over you like a ghost, pushing your hand into his palm. Even though Bucky was the one who offered this, his body froze when you accepted his touch. His eyes ran over your hand, up your shoulder to your face, locking with you. His fingers slowly pulled your hand closer, clapped gently as he ran his thumb over your knuckles.

“I am glad that at least you brought my car back, for once.” Tony’s figure, standing next to the elevator with spread hands, pulling you two out of the time capsule. For a moment, for just a split second you saw in front of yourself a man. Short messed up dark brown hair, his smile reaching up to his eyes, shaping them slightly into crescent moons. His shirt unbuttoned tinted a dirty olive green letting his chest show – a metal chain laid upon it. His pants were messed up, his face muddy at places. It went like it came, a mist like whisper of the past.

“Tony we need to gather everyone.” Steve pushed the keys into the billionaire’s chest, letting them drop in his hands

“Already did-“ it didn’t take much time for him to notice Peggy “Is that?”

“Agent Peggy Carter.” She walked up to him with a confidant stride leaning for a handshake, which Tony didn’t hesitate to finish “Well aware of your identity agent Carter. Stark, Tony Stark.”

She flashed him a smile with a small nod before walking into the elevator.

“F.R.Y.D.A.Y. conference room.”

Yes Sir

The doors slid open causing the confused agent to jump a bit. You made sure to grab onto her, stopping a potential injury inside. The big almost ceremonial hall sized room revealed itself in front of Peggy, adding to her list of amazing and possibly impossible things.

“How did the first mission go Y/N?” Nat swung her legs jumping off the table, just to be stopped in her track by the unexpecting young lady behind Steve

“Everyone take your seats. This will be a long one.”Tony rushed to pour himself a drink, downing it faster than he could refill it. Peggy took Steve’s spot as he requested of her, taking his big frame to the front of the room.

“The HYDRA base was active. Except the usual goons there were 3 men, one of them was a scientist. Y/N.” he pointed towards you, directing the attention at you for a moment “Was able to retrieve the information, hopefully all of it, from them.”

“May I?” you asked, coaxing a nod from Steve. He turned towards your empty chair ,as you took his place in front of everyone. Taking over Tony’s tech you inserted the USB, but didn’t project anything yet to them. “They are trying to re-activate plan Winter Soldier and I am worried that they are pretty close to doing that.” Bucky’s body tensed up after he heard that name uttered from your lips “ I am guessing that they are opening a portal back in time using the tesseract. I don’t know if they plan to steal the serum, but it won’t be as simple as we think. F.R.Y.D.A.Y. the projector please.”

As you wish Miss

The wall became illuminated by different pictures and texts meticulously organized by you on the screen under your fingers. “I found old files, but no matter how much I scan them, I can’t get any information out of them.” Your head moved from the wall over to the tablet between your palms “All I can tell you is this Phase2-“

“Winter Soldier Phase2 The Return.” Peggy spoke out, her body rising slowly from the chair

“Everyone.” Your hand let go of the tech and turned the palms up pointing at her “Agent Peggy Carter, the one who walked through that very light ring a couple of hours ago.”

“She traveled through time?” Clint looked at Rhodey shaking his hands in front of his body “Is that something we can do now? Doesn’t it mess up some time space stuff?”

“Yes, basically. Just don’t tell Strange, we should be fine” You explained

“Noted.”

“Well since she seems to know something about this, let’s let her explain.” Tony swung his whiskey in the expensive crystal glass, the ice hitting the walls melodically.

“Before this all happened, I was on a mission to retrieve the second half of that exact document.” She began

“You have read the first part ?” Steve asked earning an positive answer from her

“The experimented soldiers were cryo-frozen for future use, I am guessing in this day and age. The first file spoke of the process and the scientists involved in the whole operation by name. They planned to use one of these men to make a super soldier embryo.”

“HYDRA wants to mingle some of their soldiers to make a baby? Wouldn’t want to be that poor girl.” the playful note was easily distinguished

“They could inject the serum inside a pregnant mother.” Vision leaned his body onto the table offering his two cents on this already sadistic topic

“ This whole ordeal could be a way for them to try and retrieve the lost files. Going back in time is a big thing on its own. Guess they are very confidant in this operation to begin with.” Wanda jumped in with an idea following a lead

“That is an option, considering that their plan with unfreezing those popsicles ended up with all them dying in the first place.” Tony pushed off his desk, leaving the glass to rest on the coaster empty. “What else did you find on that USB?”

“That two soldiers survived that time difference.” Pressing the screen Bucky’s file popped up on the wall “James Buchanan Barnes, as we know went through the cryo freezer, but the second soldier doesn’t have any intel on methods of survival. Yet the more I looked into it, the more information I found about him. The files are much fuller than those of Bucky, almost like they had a personal deal of sorts, which got me thinking. So turns out this mystery soldier was in HYDRA as a family business. Him and Bucky were the best duo they had, almost perfectly engineered team. Taking orders and finishing the job. Our Mr.2 didn’t go under the memory eraser as much as Bucky did, only 5 recorded cases in here. ” You tried to dig for a picture to offer them a face, but you could only find a burned one of a dog tag with a missing name, only the numbers left “ It is almost like he had been in the organization since a child.”

“What a family.” Nat commented “Basically we have another Barnes running around out there and we don’t know what he is capable of or who he might be?”

“I don’t remember any of this.” Bucky rubbed his head, either a headache creeping onto him or the anger of not being able to be of help.

“The problem might go deeper than that.” Steve rolled his shoulders back, hands crossed in front of his chest “Peggy seems to know Y/N.”

“Pardon my French but what the actual flying fuck?” Sam laughed out �� You can time travel of something now?”

“Not that I know of.” You shrugged “I am as confused about this as you all are.”

“Peggy?” his blonde hair flew around his head, as his eyes focused onto her figure

“We, me and Y/N are friends. Both of us met awhile after Steve’s….disappearance. Probably a couple of years or so. We used to go out from time to time and enjoy some food or a casual walk. Nothing suspicious. ”

“You said we haven’t seen each other since a few months now?” you asked her

“Yes, last time we met you had to leave earlier because of family problems with your uncle. It was pure coincidence, but I saw that the man who picked you up was James.”

It felt like something snapped your head towards Bucky, eyes meeting in a mix of shock and confusion. The whole room couldn’t take a breath in until their brains calculated all that just got released as information. Tony frozen in one place as his eyes began to widen.

“I think I will be saying the thing we all are thinking about but…” Bruce trailed off trying to delay this as much as he could this rough interruption “ If Miss Carter is 100% sure she knew Y/N, the one here right now that we see and she also has seen her and Bucky together during that time. The information we got from that USB can lead only to one possible conclusion.”

“Are yall saying I am 100 something years old!?” your exterior was mirroring your inside state “We don’t know if it is a woman or a men, but you can’t just start pointing fingers like that.”

“I am sure it was Y/N. I followed you back then. After recognizing James I thought…” her eyes looked at Cap softly “ If he was alive than maybe Steve was as well.” The atmosphere was dark, heavy, but also like thunder crackling, hitting you with buzzes of something.

“What we are saying is that you could be working for HYDRA and we would never know.” Tony took a few steps towards you, his finger of the suit trigger button “A few years off your daily life are missing under the alibi that you were living with your uncle. You show some interesting symptoms from time to time to.”

“I don’t work for HYDRA!” agitating words and lack of memory began taking a tole on you “Wanda, Wanda look inside my head. Tell them I don’t work for HYDRA!” you were shaking her body vigorously, hoping for assistance maybe at least from Vision, the walking infinity stone.

“Ok, calm down.” You took a seat while Wanda began gently entering your mind. She was gentle, taking her time going past one memory and into the other. Seeing thoughts and unsaid wishes. After what felt as an eternity she pulled her fingers away from your head and her presence out of your mind.

“She is telling the truth.” You slumped into the chair, taking a sharp breath in after what she said. For a moment you thought you heard faintly Tony disengaging the repulsion canon on his suit.

“But…”

“But what?” eyes wandering over Wanda in expectation

“You have missing memories, not exactly forgotten maybe suppressed or hidden. Things just don’t feel natural in some places in your head. They seem periodical.”

“Now that we have calmed down.” Bruce walked over to you, helping you get up and shielding your body from Tony’s sight “Let’s take her to Stark tower. Tony your lab there is much bigger we can figure this thing out.” Everyone in the room waited for the ultimate decision, which he took his time on making.

“F.R.Y.D.A.Y. prepare the lab.”

Yes Sir

“Thank you, Tony.” You whispered

“Don’t mention it kid.” His hand landed onto your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze, that he himself might have needed at that moment “Barnes you will be in a car with Steve, Clint and Peggy, Y/N will be with me, Bruce and Natasha. We don’t need you two that close for now. Wanda, Sam and Vision can just fly there. Rhodey grab Happy and wait for us there. You.”he pointed at Thor “Go ask your messed up brother if he worked with HYDRA or lost the Tesseract for sometime before we made Vision .”

Thor summoned Bifrost off Midguard, Wanda grabbed onto Vision disappearing into the wall. Everyone else headed down to the garage. The elevator was packed, the silence felt like a rope around your throat choking you with each floor passing. The space seemed tighter than before. It felt like the elevator was slowly filling with water, the pressure crushing your bones. Your body warmed up going past the normal temperature, when an icy like cooling sensation rolled up from your waist. Jolting threw you slight back hitting something soft yet firm.

“Calm down, it is me.” A deep voice whispered letting your body sink into this hold turning into pudding. He was the only thing keeping you standing, melting away the worry. Your hands crept up grabbing onto his vibranium arm, holding tight almost like he might disappear if you let go.

Sir, the garage.

F.R.Y.D.A.Y. ‘s voice echoed sliding the metal doors open. Tony threw a pair of keys over to Steve, unlocking his own.

“I got her.” Natasha smiled at you, showing Bucky that he can entrust you to her from here on. As much as you didn’t want him to let go, you felt his body leaving yours. “ It will be ok. No one really thinks you are on their side.” She told you “We just have to make sure that if this is all true they didn’t mess with you in ways they did with the metal fossil.”

“Nat.”a jingle like giggle left your lips, tapping her arm post joke. She knew what to say at any given moment.

“Ladies mind having your giggle fest in the car, we are busy people.” Tony snapped his fingers in a flashy way, ushering you both on the back seat.

“What is the plan then?” worried or not, there was no point trying to change something outside your grasp. You were still scared, worried but sometimes wearing adult pants was needed. You worked hard to reach this spot, there was no way you could let go of your future like this. Determination was unlocking something inside you, strength in situation most people wouldn’t be able to be composed in.

Tony threw a look at you before continuing to drive towards Stark tower “Glad to have you back agent.” Nat rubbed your hand in partnership with Tony’s words “ These are all theories, but having Peggy Carter so sure in knowing you could have revealed something about you and or HYDRA.”

Sir, a message incoming from Falcon

“Put him through.”

“Hey Tony! Sorry to cut your show short. I am getting a police report of a road shut down by some black jeeps heading up on yall.” Sam was flying over the cars

“Check on it.” The big metal wings shadowed over the road and flew in front, almost disappearing between the clouds.

“Who would have guessed that someone would try and stop us from going to the lab.” Bruce laughed at his comment, but Tony and Natasha seemed too serious

“We shall see how much of this was the job of a little fairy.” The car slowed down coming up on the barricade of cars standing, tinted windows not allowed a correct assumption of human number

“Smells fishy to me. Someone let the octopus out.” Natasha pulled out the gun from her case sitting calmly next to her leg. Tony prepared his bracelets.

“Dusty, you get ready too.” He shot you a serious glance “I don’t think these fine gentlemen want our autographs.”

No one made a move for a couple of minutes, before one of the jeeps opened and threw a man out of it on the floor. Bloodied up, tied in a brutal way. His head was hanging low enough for people to figure out he was an adult male, but not enough to figure out any facial characteristics.

“Great they have a hostage.” Steve’s voice echoed from the intercoms

“It’s HYDRA.” Bucky added “Couldn’t forget these disgusting faces even if I tried.”

“ Could have guessed that much myself from the logo on them metal boy.” Tony hissed knowing damn well they had to save whoever that man was.

“Don’t be shy, we won’t shoot. Yet.” The HYDRA agent laughed out “Do you need more motivation?” his leg generated enough kinetic energy to roll the man over to the exposed sun light, making you yell out “UNCLE!”

“What?” Bruce’s body swung towards the backseat

“Great!” Tony hit the stearin wheel aggressively “Now we gotta do something. Avengers, out of the car.”

Like a command you jumped out of the vehicle , trying to make sure you weren’t just guessing blindly, but it was him. It actually was your uncle, could he have been kidnapped all this time? The letters he stopped answering to could have been a sign you were too blind to notice. But why him?

“Now that we have acquainted ourselves , we want a deal.” The tall man spoke out braking your thought process “Give us our soldier back and we give you this one here.”

“How about we punch you in the face and you give us the hostage ?” Bucky hissed out, his arm clenching in front of your eyes

“Honestly, I liked you better when you didn’t talk.” the smirk ripping this man’s face was disgusting, filled with pride.

“Y/N?” you uncle coughed up a bit of blood next to himself, a sight tugging on your heart strings.

“Aw such a sweet view. Almost a bit sad don’t you th-“

“Not as sad as you will be in a bit!” full speed down from the sky, Sam ripped the clouds landing a hard kick on the back of this guy’s head. Knocking him a couple of feet back. You dashed over to your uncle, who mustered enough power to get up and try to reach you. He collapsed half way, falling into your arms just in time.

“Uncle, uncle!” you kept calling out to him, brushing his hair off his sweaty forehead, who knows what this man went through at a HYDRA base by himself.

“I am ok sweetie. D-don’t worry.” You lowered your head trying to hear him better between the heavy breathing he was huffing and puffing, sending you a comforting smile.

“We should help them.” Steve and Bucky went towards you to give a hand in charring your relative.

“Steve wait!” Peggy grabbed his sleeve, when Bucky suddenly got the wind knocked out of him, his back denting one of Tony’s cars. The sheer strength needed to throw a big man like James back only possible by Steve, or another super soldier.

32 notes · View notes

seizethesam · 4 years

Text

Look At Me

Summary: You feel a little down and start to doubt yourself when you see the lifestyle of the Alexandrians, Daryl comforts you. (Set in late season 5 - Alexandria.)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Word Count: 1556

Author’s Note: Heyy!! This is my first Daryl one-shot. I’ve been working on it for a few days and now it's with you!! I hope you like it!!

Happy reading! xx

You took sluggish steps through the large gate, your eyes wandered on every human being you spotted. Daryl was standing by your side, on his rightful place, with cautious eyes and a dead possum hanging from his one hand, the other holding the strap of his crossbow.

His chin was slightly tucked to his chest, watching everyone with his piercing gaze. He looked intimidating, if not dangerous. He was on alert just like you with all your guards up.

You were brought to this so-called paradise where people lived happily, without any worry, any wrinkles on their brow. You’ve imagined that the only thing they had to worry about was what extraordinary food to cook that evening.

Alexandria… The name had a good ring to it.

The people were laughing, chatting, going on about their days, while you and your family were covered in filth. Your bodies were caked with blood and dirt on the road. You were pretty sure that you looked like months old human garbage.

You were afraid. You were afraid that all this could be real. You were terrified that this place could give you hope for a better life.

You were used to being out there, in the wild, walking on the dangerous lands. Lands that now only belonged to nature and the dead. The dead, starvation, and danger had almost become a second nature to you.

Almost.

But at the same time, you were tired of losing people, tired of seeing blood everywhere, tired of sleeping with one eye open. And you were sick of getting blood on your hands.

Altogether, you wanted to rest, wanted comfort. You wished to have a fine supper with your family, a good night sleep with Daryl’s arms wrapped around you. You were afraid that a chance to get all this also meant losing them all over again.

First, the leader of the community, Deanna, took all of you for interviews. Rick was the first one to go, then Glenn, then you…

You stepped into the large living room and spotted an armchair and a video camera right in front of it. You didn’t know what to with yourself. You walked towards the armchair, drawing a circle around it, afraid to stain it with your dirt.

Everything in the room was so clean and neat that you felt out of place with your body caked with blood and dirt, greasy hair sticking to the sides of your face.

“You can sit down,” the voice came from the entrance to the living room.

Deanna greeted you with a warm welcome which caused a wave of shock through your body.

You hesitantly sat down on the armchair across the camera. The comfort was causing uncomforting feeling.

“What is your name?” asked the woman.

“(Y/N)”

“You’ve been through great deal, haven’t you, Y/N?” she questioned.

You paused for a minute to think about the things you’ve been through; the farm being gone, the road, the governor, the infection, the governor again, the road again, terminus, the road, and the constant pain of losing people along the way…

You swallowed the pain growing inside you. “I guess,” you answered plainly.

“What did you do before all this?” she continued. Her eyes were wandering over you, studying you. You didn’t make sense of the question.

“A painter, a teacher, an astronaut, a zookeeper,” you listed the first professions that had come to your mind, “does it matter anymore?” your voice was tired and flat, and far from being irritating.

You were just exhausted.

After the interview with Deanna, you were all gathered in one of the houses that they have assigned you. You were all on a knife edge, constantly looking for reasons to bail out, reasons to take this place down.

It wasn’t much later that you thought how crazy all this was. Yes, you needed to protect yourselves, you needed to stay sharp. But being on the edge at all times, looking for reasons to not to trust people would just make you insane. Drive you crazy.

“They’re trying to split us apart,” Carol commented.

“We should all sleep here for tonight, ‘till we make sure they’re alright,” added Rick. His voice was almost a whisper that you could barely make out what he was saying.

The air moved fast through your nose and lungs. A light buzzing sound filled your ear when you saw stars falling down in front of you. Daryl was mouthing something, but you couldn’t make out what.

You supported yourself with one hand on the couch next to you and draw the other to your head when your vision went dark for a second.

“Hey hey,” Rick approached you with concern, “you okay?”

The others were watching you with worried eyes. “Yeah, I’m alright. —Guess it’s the blood pressure,” you said when Daryl had rushed to your side.

“S’ go outside,” Daryl suggested and you nodded after Rick padded your shoulder.

You exited the house to the front porch, and you sat yourself on the comfortable swinging chair. Daryl sat down next to you, handing a bottle of water for you.

You sat in silence for a while, observing the greenery of Alexandria. You saw a woman exit another house with a smile on her face, waving good-bye to the other person. They were really living their lives down here, weren’t they?

You couldn’t help but be jealous. They were in here eating chocolate cakes, while you were fighting out there, and yet, still losing.

“You think this is all real?” you asked with a low voice, referring to the community.

Daryl waited for a while before answering, he was thinking, biting his thumb. “I donno,” he murmured.

“I want it to be,” you said. You were surprised how vulnerable you sounded.

“Wantin’ it ta be real is one thing, the truth is another,” he pointed.

You chewed your lip as you nodded, “I know.”

“Look,” he said in a whisper, “look at me,” he repeated, and you turned to face him. “We’re gonna make it work, we always do,” he assured you as put his hand on the back of your head.

He drew your face closer to his and pressed his forehead against yours.

“uh-huh,” you hummed as you closed your eyes.

The same day after the sunset, you were in the bathroom of your new house. There was a clean shower, clean towels, a working tab that actually spilled clean water. There were multiple choices of shampoo and shower gel.

You slowly opened the small cabinet behind the bathroom mirror. Your reflection on the mirror was not comforting.

In the cabinet, there were tampons and pads from multiple brands, razors, ears picks, floss, and every other small detailed necessity.

You didn’t know what to think, or what to say. It had been a really long time since you’d seen this many supplies in general, much less personal hygiene products.

You closed the cabinet and saw your reflection clearer now.

You looked like shit.

Your braided hair was sticking to your head with grease. Your undereyes were a different shade of purple now, if not black.

Your lips were cracked like a piece of deserted soil. Your tired hand traced the bitter flaws of your features from eyes to lips. Then, your hand reached for the slightly red, skin colored scar from your neck, over your collar bone, to the chest. A courtesy of the Governor.

You unbraided your hair without taking your eyes off your reflection. You spread and let your hair fall down your shoulders.

They looked fairly lesser than you remembered. You run your hand through your hair and saw the grey hairs that took place in several parts.

You frowned at the discovery. You certainly weren’t old enough to grow grey hairs. No. These were the result of years of worry, fear, and stress.

The person in the mirror looked—old… and tired, and sick…You couldn’t recognize her.

“What’re ya doin’,” the sudden noise from the door made you startle.

You turned to see that it was Daryl. “Was lookin’ for ya,” he said with a soft voice which was not very usual with him.

“I was just checking in with myself,” you sent him a joyless smile.

He stepped in the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He must have felt your downcast. He always did. Whenever you were feeling down or just stressed, he’d be there to just make everything okay. Whether it’d be a silent hug, or his reassuring words.

Daryl would always make your feel better.

He walked towards you, “ya okay?”

Words were stuck in your throat; you opened your mouth to speak but they didn’t come out. So, instead you nodded your head ‘no’.

You leaned your back against the counter, so you were standing face to face with Daryl.

He didn’t say anything to your subtle respond. Instead, he came closer and wrapped his big arms around your weary figure, “C’mere,” he whispered.

The warmth of his body was engulfing yours in every possible way, reminding you that you were safe in his embrace.

“I’m here,” he said.

Opposing to his rough exterior and muscly arms, his hug was that much softer and gentle.

Right then and now, you didn’t doubt yourself. You didn’t look old…or sick…or broken.

You were, now, a whole.

Tag:

@ly--canthrope

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon icons #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon masterlist #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead

277 notes · View notes

cheezritsu · 4 years

Text

Taiwa 2014

Summary: It’s been a long time since Tsukishima has traveled back to his hometown, Taiwa. The last time he was here, he was moving out. But even still, there’s this unsettling feeling that he never truly left. Everything that ever mattered to him, Karasuno, Yamaguchi, his family, they were still here, like always. So why did it feel like something was missing?

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei X Reader

Word Count: 9.7K

A/N: I’m bringing what’s probably one of my favorite fics over to tumblr. crossposted on AO3 if you prefer the format. Also pain; lots of pain.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Sitting in Yamaguchi’s car with the windows down, messing up the left side of Tsukishima’s (too long) hair, he recalls one of the reasons he left Miyagi.

He has resigned to not lean his arm outside, because the grey exterior has super heated to an ungodly degree, and he’s sure there’s a 1st degree burn that will be agitated the moment it slides against a volleyball court. He joked that Yamaguchi was trying to sabotage him, that maybe if they weren’t best friends he’d actually be upset.

But it’s not like Yamaguchi can block out the sun. He didn’t remember Miyagi summers being so damn brutal, especially not in June. The sun beamed down on them as if God had a laser pointer on Yamaguchi’s Acura LX, which seemed pretty harsh even if the car was old.

Sendai fades into the background, and the buildings get shorter and shorter like they’re descending stairs. Telephone wires criss cross the highways overhead, and incoming traffic gets a little congested. Yamaguchi leans back, exhaling slowly through his nose.

“It’s always like this now. Everyone’s moving out of Tokyo and coming up north and for what? So they can hike up grocery store prices?”

“That’s awfully prejudiced of you, Yamaguchi. Why would they raise prices if they don’t know how to cook?”

Yamaguchi laughs. “Tokyo boys ain’t shit.”

“Careful,” Tsukishima gives a close lipped smile. “Your country accent is slipping through.”

“Yours is all gone.”

“I never had an accent.”

Yamaguchi hums when he grips the steering wheel, jerking the car left as he changes lanes. “Sure.”

Tsukishima keeps his mouth shut, as if sealing the evidence.

The rip of motorbikes replaces the stalled car engines as his hometown becomes a highway exit. Like it’s been anything other than that.

Tsukishima reels as they start to pass familiar landmarks. He never realized it was all so close together; it seemed like trips that used to take hours were now whizzing past at the blink of an eye. It couldn’t be Yamaguchi’s featherfoot on the gas, either.

Suburbs isn't the right word to describe Taiwa. Hinata used to ride his bike uphill both ways to get to Karasuno, and all of his friends were spread out across the large expanse of undeveloped land. Animals likely outnumber the amount of residents in the town. When Kuroo used to call the team country bumpkin crows, he wasn’t exaggerating.

Tsukishima narrows his eyes, and Yamaguchi’s gaze flickers over. “What’s got you so upset? You just got here.”

“It’s nothing,” he replies, then catches Yamaguchi still trying to look at him. “If I tell you, will you keep your eyes on the road?”

“As long as you don’t tell me something that’ll make me crash the car.”

“Just don’t crash the fucking car?”

“Spit it out, Tsukki!”

He grumbles at the old nickname. “I get enough of Koganegawa calling me that, thank you.” Date Tech’s school used to feel hours away; how long would it take under the wheels of this thing?

“Everything’s just. Closer than I remember.”

“Closer?”

“The places, I mean. The town feels smaller.”

A snort. “Sure is, hot shot. I see you got acclimated to Saitama real nice.”

There’s something charming about the northern drawl of Yamaguchi’s words he knew he’d hate coming out of his own mouth. “It’s not the same.”

Yamaguchi’s chuckle tapers into a sigh. “Neither are you.”

The blocks become residential, and houses he used to know are obscured into oblivion. The people that bike by are different, the parked cars are newer, while some faces are just older in a way that settles like lead in Tsukishima’s stomach.

And then he sees it: the house with wood paneling in the front, white everywhere else. Atop the stone pillars are the plants still taller than him, even though he’s upwards of 195cm these days. White undershirts catch the summer breeze on the clothesline, billowing like flags. Cross-hatched metal gate, a new car in the driveway. Faded pink door.

Your house. With a for sale sign in the window.

Tsukishima nearly breaks his neck as Yamaguchi passes it without so much as a glance.

“Did you see that?”

“What?” Yamaguchi checks his mirrors. “Did I see what?”

The houses blend together once again. Everyone on the street carries on like Tsukishima hasn’t been shot through the chest. He slumps into his seat, listening to dogs barking and the laughter of children as everything goes accordingly.

“It’s nothing. A kid fell off his skateboard. It looked pretty awful.”

Yamaguchi hesitates, but doesn’t question it. He minds his business, even when Tsukishima’s scowl falls into something a little more melancholy than usual.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Tsukishima frowned from his post at the front desk, annoyed how your presence alone could stir...things in him.

It had been a long time since he’d seen you at the museum. Perhaps that was good for his job security, but when he saw you walking up to him in a wool blazer that looks like a mirror image of the one he had on, he couldn’t help but admit he’d missed you. He didn’t know where you’d been, and he wanted to ask, but you flashed him the 460 yen entrance fee before he could speak.

“I’ll take the 4:15 personal guided tour.”

He schooled his face to keep it flat. “How many times have I told you—”

“It’s your last day, what are they going to do, fire you?”

The sarcasm was dry, and there was no twinkle in your eye. Tsukishima sighed, taking the money and putting it in the register. His replacement, a quickly scouted kid that was barely his shoulder height, tapped away on the computer next to him. “Hey, Hiroto.”

The boy was obviously younger, probably still in high school by the way his eyes widened when his senpai called for him. “Yes, Tsukishima-sama?”

You lean against the counter. “Sama?” you mouth, lips curling into that smirk he hated to love.

“Take over the front desk for me. I have a tour to do.”

Hiroto squinted in confusion, but as soon as Tsukishima slid out of the booth the kid immediately took his place. He looked so nervous and unsure, and you, still leaning over the counter, sent him a wink.

“Don’t worry kid, just make sure you turn this over.” Your fingers toyed with a plaque, tipping it over so it read Closed. Then, you cupped one hand over your mouth, whispering close to his ear.

“This guy sucks at customer service anyways, and they kept him for a whole year.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes at your loud-as-all-hell whisper, pulling your arm.

“Leave the kid alone.”

“I’m just giving him some friendly advice!”

“You’re going to give him a lot more than that if you keep with the “friendly” attitude.” Hiroto looked absolutely mortified, standing like a wooden plank at the front desk. You hummed.

“How old is he?”

Tsukishima ignored your question. You looped your arm with his. “I feel like college students keep getting smaller and smaller these days.”

“That’s because you hung out with giants.”

You walked through an ornate archway into an octagonal room filled with glass cases of samurai memorabilia. The armour room had only a few stragglers left, all of them in silent contemplation. Against the archway, an employee Tsukishima recognized gave him a long glance as you two strolled past, but Tsukishima was more preoccupied with looking at you. He would sneak glances at your reflection in the glass, concerned by the indifferent frown you sported. Maybe it was the exhibits; samurais and swords were never your thing. But there was something he couldn’t put his finger on that made him anxious.

You either didn’t notice him staring, or you didn’t care. Waltzing through the halls like you were the guide, you two stepped into the completely secluded painting wing. Sharp angled walls jutted out to create more surfaces to hang the portraits. You tilted your chin, studying them like an art critic.

“Are you going to miss working here?”

Tsukishima shrugged. “It was fine. Gave me a use for my degree.”

“You regretting college now that you’re a superstar athlete?” The words are punctuated with tiny jabs to his arm, but they lack conviction. “Kinda seems like a waste, huh?”

Tsukishima frowned. The implication that the past four years spent being in your care and watching over you were suddenly useless didn’t sit right with him. “It’s not like I didn’t like it.”

“I know,” you sighed, moving onto the next painting. “It just seems like a detour now, doesn’t it? I mean, you’re a pro-athlete.”

There was a stress on how you said “athlete” that didn’t slip past him. He realized what was so off: you weren’t imitating the goofy poses of the long dead samurai anymore. Your all black outfit, once chic, seemed like you were in mourning. The heel clicks of your loafers brought his eyes back to you, where you stood with your hands grasped behind your back, pulling your fingers tightly.

Tsukishima drew up to your side. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

You whipped your head around like you’ve been caught. “What’re you talking about?”

He snorted. “You’re a bad liar, you know. Your accent is your tell.”

“Shut,” you started to say, though it lacked a hard T and it made Tsukishima laugh. “Shut up.”

It almost feels normal between you two. Almost.

“It’s been weird, you know,” you started, voice barely a whisper. You looked like you were talking to Date Masamune’s portrait when you said “I’m back at home, and you’re not there anymore.”

He didn’t know why you were saying that. He should have kicked himself in the ass and given you some kind of reassurance, but he was frozen, mouth agape with an unasked question.

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Tsukishima always thought your profile should have been on these walls. You looked regal, even with your eyes fixed on the ground and an ashamed smile. “Who woulda thought two kids from Taiwa would be all the way out here, hm?” Your chuckle is self deprecating. “And now you’re gunna be playing for a Division One team in Saitama. Fuckin’ hot shot.”

You finally turn to him, head cocked with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “I’m glad you’re getting out, Tsukki. It’s what you wanted, right?”

He can’t pinpoint what’s wrong with this image. Sometimes, it appears to him in dreams, your smile warped and faded like an overexposed photograph. The right words are floating in the ether above him, elusive, mocking. But he is destined to say the wrong ones.

“Yes, it is.”

You looked into Masamune’s eyes once again, like you could read the brush strokes and find the answer to the universe in them. “You deserve it, you know. Miyagi never suited you.”

The irony was lost on him, as were most things in the moment. Your presence had now soured his mood, but you hooked your arms through his like nothing was wrong.

“C’mon, this is the last time I’ll ever step foot in the place again; tell me something cool.”

You didn’t say “probably.” Tsukishima dwells on this now more than ever, because his response never addressed that. “Did you know there’s an anime series based on the Date Clan?”

Your laugh; that’s what he was more focused on. The way it lit up your face, and how you said “seriously?” a little too loud for the dead silent museum. Tsukishima hasn’t been back to Sendai City museum either, because this memory is pristine, and it’s the last one he has of you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Tsukishima’s family is still the same.

His mother has kept her hair short for the past fifteen years of her life, and Tsukishima might have a childlike tantrum if she’d cut it otherwise. But when Yamaguchi pulls up to his childhood home, she steps out of the house with her signature bob, sans a couple more grey hairs.

The way golden hour makes his mother look ethereal never ceases to make him smile. She gives Yamaguchi a one-armed hug as he carries Tsukishima’s luggage inside, and Yamaguchi kisses her on the cheek like a better son would.

All Tsukishima can do is stand in front of her with his hands behind his back, head dipped with a bashful smile as his mother cocks her hands on her hips. He feels sixteen again, fidgeting with his fingers when she comes closer, giving him a smile that could coax anything out of him.

“You never stop growing, do you?” She has to stand on her toes to brush back his fringe. “Even your hairs’ gotten longer.”

“Can you cut it for me? I only trust you.”

A smile. He’s suddenly even younger; twelve years old, standing in front of the house and holding up the award from the science fair. His mother is so brilliant that the sun goes away, shamed by her beauty.

“Of course, Kei. Come on, your brother’s waiting.”

Nothing’s changed in the house. Muscle memory brings him to the kitchen, where the table is set for four. Yamaguchi sheds his jacket, but Akiteru swoops behind him, snatching it from his hands.

“I’ll take that, Tadashi.” He’s as smooth and polite as ever, grinning the megawatt smile he inherited from their mother. Akiteru may be a full head shorter than Kei now, but the slap his older brother gives him still makes him lose balance.

“You done growin’ yet, you little jerk? Huh?” Akiteru has grown less doting in years gone by, much to Tsukishima’s own (disgusted) dismay. Akiteru stops, looking him up and down before that teasing grin distills into something prideful. In a flash, he is pulled into a tight hug, the pats on his back more tepid and loving. Tsukishima leans in for only a moment, and then Akiteru holds him at arms’ length.

He suspects Akiteru will say something sappy, but Yamaguchi’s jacket is thrust into his arms. “Be a good friend and put away Tadashi’s coat, will you?” He gives an infuriating wink before helping his mother in the kitchen.

Tsukishima turns, even if only to hide the sentimental smile that graces his lips. When dinner is finally ready, Tsukishima sits beside Yamaguchi, facing his mother, and suddenly he is nine years old again; Yamaguchi is over for dinner and Akiteru will no doubt embarrass him, but it’s okay because mom cooked their favorite. Time stands still and the sun doesn’t set, not for them.

It’s almost enough to make him forget. Almost.

“Did you know the (Surname) house is for sale?”

Yamaguchi blinks, but his mother doesn’t miss a beat. “Oh, you saw?”

“It’s the one on the way here, with the pink door. It’s hard to miss.” Tsukishima keeps eating like its normal conversation--isn’t it?--but Yamaguchi’s eyes are trying to x-ray his skull.

“It’s been up for a little while, hasn’t it Aki?”

Akiteru, who’s sixth sense is his little brother’s emotions, clears his throat. “Probably since March.”

“They’ve been wanting to get rid of that house since (Name) left.”

Hearing your name out of another person’s mouth sends a ripple through Tsukishima, like he’s been punched in the stomach. Akiteru and Yamaguchi don’t miss the way his breath hitches, how he drops his utensils to crack his knuckles.

“It’s probably too big for them anyways,” he says, returning to his meal, head bowed so he can’t see their prying eyes. “They’re getting kind of old.”

“It’s been so long since it was full, hasn’t it? Their older daughter moved out over a year ago, I think.”

His mother’s words buzz in his ears as the conversation dornes on. Akiteru steers it away from the house, asking about Tsukishima’s appointed condo in Saitama, but he only gives one word answers through the fog in his mind.

Suddenly, he is eighteen, time fast forwarding as his glasses change and his hair gets shaggier, and you, like his mother, brush it out of his vision. Yamaguchi sits on Akiteru’s left because Tsukishima scowled at the idea of you sitting next to his brother. It’s not like it even matters, because you aren’t his: everyone in the room is showering you with attention and you have to divide yourself four ways, giving them individualized smiles.

“--(Name) really broke their hearts when she left.”

“Huh?”

As it turns out, eighteen wasn’t so long ago. His mother smiles fondly at a memory. “She was a firecracker, wasn’t she? Used to walk around like she owned the place. Her older sister was always more respectful.”

“Wasn’t her older sister in a rock band?” Akiteru reminisces.

“Yeah, but which one was constantly skipping school and getting caught with boys?”

“Younger sibling privileges. They get to do whatever they want and never get punished.”

His mother laces bridges her fingers, then leans her chin down. “But everyone still loved her, didn’t they?” His mother’s eyes are far away, like she was in the same moment as her son. “I miss her.”

Tsukishima doesn’t mean to raise his voice, but he has to force the words out of his throat. “Why’re you all talking like she’s dead? She just lives in...wherever the hell she got whisked off to. Who knows?”

The entire table halts, staring at him. Akiteru and Yamaguchi share another secretive glance, and Tsukishima’s forehead throbs.

“Whatever, can we just talk about something else?”

Another reason Tsukishima revered his mother: she knew how to deal with him. “Of course dear,” she says, her voice never even missing a beat. “You haven’t even told us about your last match!”

“It was televised,” he drones, but Yamaguchi gangs up on him

“It was your first time playing against the Black Jackals, though.” Despite his years of practice, Yamaguchi still has some hesitance when he changes topics. “Was it satisfying blocking Hinata’s spikes? I bet you liked shutting down Miya Atsumu.”

There’s a twitch to his lips as he gives Yamaguchi a grateful glance. The rest of dinner goes off with little conflict, and Tsukishima groans when Akiteru pulls out strawberry shortcake and the alcohol that pairs poorly with it--beer.

“I’m not drinking that.” Tsukshima means it, too, leaving his brother and Yamaguchi to their own devices. His mother cleans up easily with the extra set of hands, and while they chat over booze, he drops his things off in his old room.

It’s the same as when he left. His old books are still on the shelves, the dinosaur figures covered in a thin, disrespectful layer of dirt. His first Karasuno jersey still hangs next to his door, swinging idly when he enters.

It, like Taiwa, feels small. Perhaps it’s because his bed is still full sized, and his feet hang over the edge. His suitcase doesn’t really fit anywhere, and when he sits down at his desk, he can barely fit his knees under it. He feels like he’s in a dollhouse, or worse; a museum.

The last time he was here, he was moving out. But even still, there’s this unsettling feeling that he never truly left. Everything that ever mattered to him, Karasuno, Yamaguchi, his family, they were still here, like always.

So why did it feel like something was missing?

There’s a knock on the door he didn’t remember closing. When it opens, the light from the hallways creeps in, and Yamauchi peers inside. “Why are the lights off?”

“It wasn’t dark when I sat down.”

Yamaguchi pushes the door open with his back and when Tsukishima sees why, he lets out a snort of disbelief. “Where did you dig that up?”

The Kahlua bottle has a layer of grime on it bleach probably couldn’t cut through. It’s barely half empty, sliding across the desk into Tskishima’s waiting hands. How his friend was able to balance the bottle, a beer, and a glass of milk between his fingers was beyond him; perhaps it was the years of volleyball under his belt.

Tsukishima isn’t light handed when he pours his drink, clicking the glass with Yamaguchi’s beer and relishing it with a long sip.

“You looked like you needed it.”

“I’m fine,” he hides his lie with another sip. Yamaguchi isn’t fooled in the slightest.

“I didn’t know they’d bring it up.”

“You guys can stop using euphemisms, you know.” His amber eyes are dull when he looks over his glasses. “She’s not Beetlejuice.”

Yamaguchi laughs. “I suppose she won’t appear if we speak her name three times, but she’s frightening all the same.”

“Frightening isn’t the right word,” Tsukishima thinks, staring at how the liquor and milk swirl galaxies in his glass. Maybe if he looks hard enough he’ll find the right word to describe you, but the thought stays unfinished.

Leaning on the wall, Yamaguchi turns his head to look out the window at the last vestiges of light. “Sometimes I think I see her in the convenience store; you remember the one we used to eat at after practices in third year?” Tsukishima nods at the memory. “I’ll just be standing in line, and then out of the corner of my eye, there she is. Like a hallucination.”

Yamaguchi’s glazed eyes come back into focus, smiling sheepishly. “It’s stupid I know. It’s just,” he stares down at the floor, shifting his weight. “I know she hated Taiwa, but I thought she loved us.”

The drink has gone sour in his mouth. Tsukishima sets it down with a heavy thud, looking at Yamaguchi with a blank expression.

“I guess she didn’t.”

Yamaguchi frowns, then tilts his head back to finish his drink. “I don’t know why I thought I’d talk to you about it,” he humorlessly scoffs. “It’s been what, five years?”

“You’re the one seeing her in grocery stores. She got what she wanted; she left this place, married her rich CEO husband, and forgot about us ‘northern folk,’” Tsukishima exaggerates the accent he fought so hard not to maintain. “I’m not going down memory lane with you. Not this one.”

His tone drips with finality, and Yamaguchi pushes himself off the wall. “You don’t have to talk about it,” he says, leaving the Kahlua bottle on the desk. “But don’t act like you didn’t want her to stay, too.”

Yamaguchi leaves him alone in the dark. His footsteps pound down the staircase, and as they cease, Kei slouches into his chair, defeated. He tops off his drink, taking a miserable sip while his feet push the office chair side to side.

He spins idly, and the years unravel at the seams.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Not so suddenly, he is twenty years old. It’s not a milestone, not in Japan, not anywhere in the world, and yet, you wanted to celebrate.

The day after his birthday was a lot more memorable than the actual party. Not because he was black out drunk, but because when he came back to your apartment after getting a fabulous nights rest, he was greeted with not just you, but your three overnight guests.

“What the hell happened to them?”

It was both luck and a curse that the MSBY Black Jackals were in town for a match. The few members that knew Tsukishima had come over for his birthday party, and the morning after they were face down at your kitchen table. Instead of their usual lively antics, they were slumped with hangovers, groaning in harmony.

“You’re too loooud Tsukki!” Bokuto yelled, making Atsumu Miya hiccup.

“Bokkun, please shut the fuck up,” he whispered, that melodic Kansai dialect shriveled and dry in his throat. His presence had been most shocking, but the way he called him “the snarky middle blocker” proved that he truly did remember him.

“Language,” Hinata’s tiny voice squeaked out and you chuckled behind your hand.

“They’ve been like this all morning. apparently they can’t head back in this condition, so,” you held up a frying pan. “I’m making breakfast.”

“Yer an angel, sweetheart,” Miya said, drawing himself up from the table. “If you had any painkillers you’d be a god.”

“You better get to worshipping then,” you pointed to the cabinet. “Bottom shelf, all the way against the wall.”

“Marry me,” he joked, and Tsukishima narrowed his eyes at your laughter. There was something about how your hair was pulled back with a headband that made him want to possessively kiss your forehead, but he held himself back.

“What?” You said, and he realized you’d been staring at him too. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“There’s nothing picture worthy here. Except maybe those two.” He jabbed a thumb to the duo rolling on the floor. “Might keep it for blackmail.”

“You can’t blackmail people who don’t get embarrassed,” you reminded him, beginning to crack eggs into a bowl. Everything looked so effortless when you did it; even Miya was impressed by how you whisked together the eggs in a homogenous scramble.

“Gosh, is there anything you can’t do?”

“Basic mathematics, hold her alcohol, go five seconds during a movie without crying,” Tsukishima ticked off his fingers. “Need I continue?”

“I can’t stand you, so there’s another thing,” you bit back, and Miya laughed behind you. You hummed.

“You’ve got a pretty voice, Miya-San. Where’re you from?”

He raised an eyebrow at your compliment. “Well ain’t you sweet? I’m from Hyogo, darlin’, more specifically Kawanishi.”

The stove made that loud tick tick tick! as the flame flickers to life. It’s like that scene from Howl’s Moving Castle, and Tsukishima is enraptured at the sight of you pulling apart strips of bacon and placing them in the sizzling pan.

“Kawanishi,” you muttered, and Tsukishima knew that longing, tired voice of yours. It always broke his heart. “Is it big?”

“Not really; maybe ‘bout less than 200 thousand people.”

You scoffed. “Where I’m from, that's huge.”

The setter cocked his head. “Ain’t you from Sendai?”

“Nope,” you said, popping the last consonant. “I’m nobody from the middle of goddamn nowhere.”

“It’s not like you had to bike uphill both ways to get to school!” Hinata piped up from the table. “At least you lived closer to Karasuno than I did!”

“Ah, is that how you know this guy?” Miya jutted his chin toward the taller blonde. Their gazes met momentarily, and through Miya’s whisky brown eyes, Tsukishima saw a black hole of hunger. He looked back down to you as you drained the bacon onto a paper towel.

“Yup.” You were proud when you said it. “Tsukki and I have been together forever.”

“Oh? I didn’t know you were dating.”

Tsukishima didn’t correct him, but you did. “We’re not not dating. Hell, to be honest we don’t even go that far back. We’re both from Taiwa, which isn’t really weird because it’s a huge place, even though there’s barely thirty thousand people in it.” A fond smile played on your lips, and you fixed Tsukishima with an adoring look.

“Thirty thousand people, and I lived walking distance from you. And you never even knew I existed.”

If he wanted to kiss your head before, the urge was stronger now. He licked his lips, putting the feelings aside. “What do you want me to do, apologize?”

“Hmm, no. I think I’ve harassed you enough to make up for it.”

That little smile on your lips said it all. You busied yourself with cooking once again, and Miya looked between you two like there was something tangible. If there ever was a red string of fate tied to your pinkies, it has long since been severed. But in this memory, the two of you danced around each other in the kitchen with ease, plating breakfast for five like husband and wife.

Actually, it was just four. You returned to cleaning the apartment, quite a monumental task with all the drunk volleyball players you’d had over last night. Tsukishima had dipped after everyone was either safe at home or tucked in on your couch, and daylight was not kind to the aftermath.

“This is why I didn’t ask for a party,” he said, watching as you tossed beer cans into a trash bag.

“You should be grateful she threw ya a party, string bean,” Miya said in between bites of toast. The eggs on his plate matched the blonde of his hair, and Tsukishima can never unsee this. “Even more so that it was a rager.”

“Yeah! (Name)-san has always been so nice to you.”

Tsukishima choked on his drink. “You must have gotten the memory knocked out of your head with a receive, shrimp. That woman has never been kind to me.”

“I threw you a whole party!”

“I am once again asking when I told you to do that.”

He could hear your petty insults drift away as you walked out of the living room. There was only the sounds of utensils scraping against plates until you stomped back in, holding up a box that filled your arms. It’s wrapped up perfectly, because you were always good at that; in second year of high school, every member of the volleyball team brought their Secret Santa gifts for you to wrap. You charged everyone five dollars, except for him.

When you got closer he could see the dinosaur stickers you’d placed sporadically across the surface, and Miya snorted with laughter when you unceremoniously dropped the present in Tsukishima’s lap.

“Happy birthday, asshole,” you spat, but he could see how the corners of your mouth tipped up in a suppressed smile, getting wider by the second.

“Well? Open it Tsukki!”

“Yeah, I wanna see!”

The peanut gallery beside him banged their hands on the table, and Miya groaned, clutching his forehead. “I’m begging you two to stop.”

Tsukishima let them carry on in their torture for a little while longer, liking the sight of the setter gnashing his teeth. When it became too much for even him, he opened the gift at the seams, careful not to rip the wrapping paper. It was pretty cute, and he smiled at the visual of you sitting down on your bedroom floor and strategically placing the stickers, your head bouncing to a playlist he’d shared with you.

When he lifted up one long edge, he caught a glimpse of the gift, and his breath hitched. He gazed up at you in disbelief, peeling it all back to reveal the turntable in all its glory.

Tsukishima is a pro-athlete now; he could afford music systems that cost more than a regular citizen’s car, and yet he still proudly displays this exact one in his Saitama apartment, and he always gets compliments from the girls he brings home. Above the wall, in a frame never to be touched, is the first record you ever gave him; the one he will find out momentarily was sitting under the box. But he wanted to drink in that particular moment, the moment his heart stopped completely.

The other three leaned over to get a better look at it, oohing and ahhing at the sight. Tsukishima was too busy memorizing your proud smile, your hand on your hips, and how the constriction of his heart resembled love a little too closely.

“Because you’re always lamenting you don’t have one. Just so you know, the only presents you’re ever getting from me are vinyls.”

He should have hugged you. He should have told you how much it meant to him, but he just assumed you could see it on his face. Maybe he expected too much from you.

But he did say, “Thank you, (name).” with the most sincerity he’d ever used, and you’d smiled like you knew he loved you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Tsukishima knows he does not have enough money to buy a house, and isn’t even interested in buying one, but that doesn’t stop him from putting on his (second) best clothes and working through whatever the hell he’s going to say to the person who opens your (old) front door.

It’s the second dumbest thing he’s ever done. The neighborhood is bustling today, and a couple people do double takes as he strolls by with his headphones up, cap tilted low. He’s aware he kinda looks like he’s undercover in a Marvel movie, but there’s only so much he can do; height is a curse, he keeps telling people, but they never listen.

He blends in enough not to get stopped, which may be yet another curse, because then he’d have time to recollect his thoughts and ask what the fuck he thought he was doing walking to your parents house in the middle of the goddamn day like they didn’t have jobs. Had his brain finally conked out now that he was a jock for a living?

Maybe so, because the faded pink door was finally in sight. From the street he could see it clearly: a realtor’s number under the brilliant bold FOR SALE, like it’s yelling at him to leave. But his eyes drift, catching the little details of your house.

Everything in his memories has shrunk and distorted, but not this place. It’s still as clear as day: the red brick steps up to the door, lined with potted plants your mother had a talent for growing. The iron gates have rusted with time, and they stand much shorter now that he’s 195 cm. The bushes were trimmed into weird rounded shapes, both indicative of the neighborhood, and still odd in your front yard. The second story balcony had the same sheets—the same fucking ones from high school! Tsukishima had to laugh.

And then his laugh tapers off as he realizes they’re yours. Purple with little moons and cartoon bunnies on them. The sheets from Sailor Moon! Your whine is an echo in his ears.

He’s just standing there, hands in his pockets as the memories bombard him one by one, crowding his brain, making him lose his—

The front door opens, creaking like a horror movie sound effect. Tsukishima steps back, watching in terror as a figure comes into view, checking his pockets before lifting his head up and seeing a man—a fucking giant—standing right outside his house.

“Hello?” he greets cautiously, stepping closer.

Tsukishima holds in a breath. Your father has gotten old; almost all the hair on top of his head has thinned and greyed, like a samurai in a black and white movie. He’s still wearing the same uniform from the manufacturing plant he was employed at back when you were in high school, his (your) surname stitched on the pocket. He holds a lunchbox in one hand, the other curled into a defensive fist by his side. Intimidating as always.

That is until he squints, and then his eyes light up with recognition. “Tsukishima? Tsukishima Kei?”

With equal hesitation, Tsukishima walks up to the gate. Your father pushes it open, and when he walks down the steps to be on even ground with Tsukishima, he laughs at how much shorter he’s become.

“My god,” he whispers it like he’s staring at a ghost. Tsukishima feels too aware of his long legs and arms, holding them behind his back when he bows respectfully.

“(Surname)-san,” he says, and your father’s eyes twinkle. “It’s been a long time.”

“So it has. How have you been, boy? I hear you’re playing for Saitama now.”

The recognition has him reeling. It’s too much, he shouldn’t have come. His stunned silence makes your father laugh.

“No need to be modest about it! We’ve been following your progress, you know.” He sounds proud, as if he was talking to his own son. “I always brag to my coworkers that a pro-athlete used to come to my house. Three of em, really! How fortunate you’ve all been.”

“Thank you,” he says stiffly. “It’s been such a long time.”

“How is your mother?” She must be awfully lonely without you two boys in the house.”

“I’m visiting her now. She told me your house was for sale?”

Your father was never an idiot. He looks up at the for sale sign, something heavy settling on his shoulders. “Both of my daughters have moved farther away than we intended,” he sighs, although there is no particular sadness in his tone. “I’m proud of them both, really, although (Name) has less filial piety than her sister.”

“She was,” Tsukishima cannot use the word that comes to mind in front of your father. “Something.”

Your father barks out a laugh. “That’s the polite way to say she was a pain in the ass.” Tsukishima’s posture visibly relaxes. “You couldn’t tell her nothin’. Sort of a shame she’s someone’s housewife, ya know? She would have done great things.”

This time there is a wistful quality about his voice, but it vanishes as quickly as it came. “You know, you haven’t been here in a while. (Name)’s mom would love to see you. You were her favorite of all (Name)’s friends, I think.”

A paternal pat on the arm makes all thoughts of weaseling out of this fly out the window. Tsukishima ascends the steps, the top of his head brushing just underneath the archway.

“They don’t make houses for your height, I’m afraid.”

“I’m used to it.”

He wasn’t sure why he expects the inside will be any different. There’s no new furniture, the walls are all the same color, even the books your parents kept out were arranged the same way from nearly five years ago. The only difference is you’re not running down the stairs to save him from the embarrassment of talking to your parents.

“Honey?” your father’s voice calls out as they round a corner. “You’ll never believe this: there was a professional athlete just standing outside.”

You mother looks over her small glasses from where she’s sitting, her brows furrowing, then raising as she places her hand over her mouth. Much like his own mother, time has been kind to her, the only signs of aging appearing in the grey that grew from her back roots.

“Oh my-” she’s standing in front of him with an awed look, and Tsukishima remembers that you and your mom have the same face, just older. He once thought he’d get to see you this age, maybe even in a house like this. His eyes fall to the floor, because your mother looks like the future he can no longer have.

She holds his arms like she’s going to lift him, her lower lip trembling. “Look at you! So tall, still so handsome. (Name) was an idiot for never making you my son-in-law.”

It used to be embarrassment that pained him. Now it was bittersweetness filling his mouth as he thought of something to say to that. “Yeah, she was” feels a little too familiar, and not at all cognizant of his broken heart.

“Oi,’ your father warns. “Enough of that, yeah?”

“Oh,” she swats her hand in his direction, then looks back up to Tsukishima with praising eyes. “I’m kidding. Kind of.”

Tsukishima rubs his arm, giving her a strained grin. He didn’t expect your parents to reopen the wound he’s done his best to forget. Time is supposed to heal all, but you are a fever that’s never broken.

“I came by because I saw the house was for sale.”

Your mother’s face softens. “Oh, you must have so many memories here. Gosh, you haven’t been here in a long time.”

“Years” your father pipes up.

“Years. You should head up to (Name)’s room, you might find something in there.”

This simultaneously piques his interest and fills him with existential dread. “Is that alright?”

“You’re probably the last person in Taiwa that has attachments to this house besides us.”

The sobering reality of that statement makes him drag his feet up the stairs. He looks back down, and he feels like he’s staring backwards in time. Every step forward is another year, and suddenly he’s anxious like he’s entering a girl’s room for the first time.

Your presence, though missing, is overwhelming. He remembers condensation from something dripping onto the hard word floors he’s standing on now, your heart patterned socks mopping it up behind him.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The sun was still up over the horizon, late July prickling Tsukishima’s bare arms with the last vestiges of heat. Your white dress shirt was speckled with little dots of red like a blood splatter.

“You look like a homicide victim.”

“You look like you swallowed blue paint.”

Convenience store slushies were actually a terrible way to beat the heat. They condensed and made the cup soggy, meanwhile the ice in the drink melts immediately after it leaves the machine. But Tsukishima wasn’t going to say no when after ten minutes of begging, Hinata proclaimed he would buy him “his last slushie of high school.” Tsukishima had just clicked his tongue, telling the excited middle blocker, “As long as you’re paying,” so he wouldn’t see how red his ears were.

Hinata and Yamaguchi chuckled at your little back and forth, while Kageyama slurped his drink with a seriousness that didn’t suit the moment. Bathed in sunshine, you all looked like bronze statues: immortal, eternal and infallible. That couldn’t be farther from the truth, but Tsukishima still liked the analogy.

“You would think after spending like, every waking moment together these two would be nicer to each other.” Hinata hummed.

“I thought graduation might make them sentimental,” Yamaguchi sighed. His hair was long back then, decorated with multicolored clips you had strategically placed to match their uniforms. Tsukishima has told his friend once and only once that he liked this hairstyle on him the most. He doesn’t know if it’s because he has the happiest memories associated with it or not. Not that Tsukishima would ever say that.

Yamaguchi pulled his little ponytail taut. “And to think, I wanted them to get their happily ever after.” How a person could look so much like the tear drop emoji, Tsukishima would never know. Your disgusted grunt broke his thoughts.

“Ugh Yama, please,” you begged, throwing away your slushie like he’d spoiled your appetite. “Will you cut it out with this fantasy of yours?”

“What? Wouldn’t it be nice if my two friends got married?”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Tsukishima deadpanned.

“I’d divorce him and steal all his money.”

“Now you’re entertaining the thought.”

Hinata jumped excitedly. “I think it’d be really cute! You guys are going to the same University right?”

Tsukishima bristled, staring at his shorter teammate with contempt. “That means nothing.”

“It means you still have time!”

Tsukishima hated the gremlins optimism, but in that moment, with the sun painting a strip of light across your already brilliant eyes, he’d had the fleeting thought that Hinata could be right.

(He can’t kid himself. It wasn’t a passing thought; it was all consuming, like a tsunami. He couldn’t sleep, because he would dream of domesticity, and your next words cemented how unrealistic this was.)

You waved your hand at Hinata. “I’m not the marrying type, Hinata-kun.”

(A complete lie, but back in 2014, he’d believed you.)

“Besides, what’s so exciting about marriage when Kageyama’s going to be a famous athlete by next year, hm? And you’re off to fucking Brazil.”

All eyes shifted to the quiet setter, still casually drinking his slushie. When he opened his mouth to speak, his mouth was comically purple.

“Marriage isn’t any less significant than being an athlete.” He’d said, sounding very much like the student counselor. Then he grimaced. “But you two would be an unholy couple.”

You broke into piercing laughter. The sound still rings in Tsukishima’s ears. “Kags, will you join me and Tsukki in an unholy matrimony?”

“You want me to get married to you two?”

“No, idiot, she wants you to officiate the wedding.”

“What wedding?”

“I-“ Tsukishima shook his head. “Good fucking question. I’m not marrying you.”

He wonders from time to time if you’d been serious back then. It didn’t make any sense when you were third years, but in retrospect, maybe, just maybe you were hinting something. That sun-made sparkle in your eyes glittered with dimension, and underneath the mirth was something Tsukishima never understood. He thought he would have more time to.

“My original point still stands,” you said, exasperated. “You’re all going off to do great things, and I’m just going to Tohoku.”

“Oi,” Tsukishima chided. “Don’t make it sound so inconsequential when I’m going there too.”

“You're literally going on a full ride with your volleyball scholarship,” you rolled your eyes. “So, no, it’s not inconsequential. It’s just not the same.”

Tsukishima will not be able to fully read you until freshman year of college, so he didn’t catch your downturned lips or how you tried to blink away welling tears. He just thought you were malfunctioning. “You’re being weird.”

“It’s not weird to miss your friends.”

“AHHH! (Name)!” Hinata jumped high enough to nearly kick you in the head. He looked at you with teary eyes and you’re astonished, even though you’ve known him for three years. “Don’t miss us! Don’t be sad!!”

“We’re not even gone yet,” Kageyama grumbles, and you grasped at your heart, confusing him.

“Kageyama...do you care about my feelings?”

“What about his response gave you that idea?”

The black haired setter clicked his tongue. “I’m just saying, we haven’t graduated yet so you don’t have anything to be sad about right now.”

“I can’t believe the Kageyama Tobio is giving me a pep talk,” you dabbed at your eyes dramatically. Kageyama flicked water onto your face, and you giggled.

“Hey!” He was relentless, so you hid behind Tsukishima who didn’t have a quick enough reaction time to be mad at you. Not that he would say anything about the way your hands touched his sides, sending a jolt down his body. His face is probably as red as a slushie.

“Kageyama, when you’re rich and famous I’m going to send all the embarrassing pictures I have to the paparazzi.”

Yamaguchi laughed at the mental image. “That would take an hour long special.”

“A two part hour long special.”

“You’re a fake friend,” Kageyama said, and you prop your head on his shoulder.

“That would imply that I don’t love you all, and that could never be true.”

You used to say such brash things so casually. Kageyama, with his congested emotions, bloomed into a furious blush. Hinata mocked him, pressing his wet hand against his heated face, much to Kageyama’s dismay. Chuckling at the freak duos antics, you shuffled into Tsukishima’s side, who simply looked on with indifference.

“You’re such a sap, (Name),” Yamaguchi notes, and you gave him a brilliant smile, more golden and beautiful than the sunset at their backs. The only thing Tsukishkma laments is that the smile wasn’t aimed at him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Tsukishima walked ahead of everyone, slurping aggressively on his slushie, trying to quell the jealousy that erupted in his chest. He didn’t have the right to feel so possessive over a friendly declaration, but it still worked its way into his heart.

Suddenly you were beside him, leaning forward to catch his expression. “What’re you hiding from?”

“Who says I’m hiding.”

“Ya know, Tsukki, you shouldn’t be jealous,” Your grin is troubling and sweet, because you’re a walking contradiction. Here and gone all at once.

“Who says I’m—“

“Because I love you most of all.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The door to your room is open. Tsukishima stands at the threshold, hands stuffed in his pockets so he can’t feel them tingle as he approaches.

Already he can tell something isn’t right. The blinds are closed even though it’s the middle of the day, making slits of light like jail bars shine across the floor. The walls are completely stripped of posters and pictures, but they never stripped away the paint. The blue has faded with years gone by, and everything is a hollow shell of what it used to be.

Tsukishima steps in. It doesn’t feel like anything special, which annoys him a little. But then again, how could it feel like anything different when the room has changed so much?

It’s a storage room now. Your bed is gone, your bedside table stuck up against the wall. Your antique dresser, the one you were so proud to steal from your sister, stands alone on the far wall, no clothes sticking out. Your closet is open with suitcases crammed inside, the hangers swinging idly and the floorboards creak under his weight.

It feels colder in here. There’s no peach scented candles, no window open, no nothing. This isn’t yours. This isn’t right.

It’s blasphemous what they’ve done. Tsukishima is not an irrational, angry person, and yet he has the violent urge to take a metal baseball bat and smash everything in your room. Not your room.

Tsukishima's trembling fingertips trace over a water raised circle on your bookshelf, a scar to mark your existence. And there, on the side, where you recorded the length of your growing ivy plant, the months going down down down like a timeline until they stop. Until you’re gone with hardly a trace.

Tsukishima balls his fists. You did leave something behind. He just can’t touch it, can’t see it anywhere else but his mind's eye and he curses because no one can see how you’ve ruined his life and continue to, even in this void you’ve created in your absence.

He stops trying to control it. The memory swirls over him like a hurricane, pounding against his skull as tears well in his eyes. He falls to his knees to take a breath, then lays on the floor, in the exact spot where your bed used to be; in the middle of the room, parallel to the windows. He can almost feel the Sailor Moon sheets, closing his eyes. His panicked breathing splits into two, and like Athena from Zeus, you’ve sprung from his mind.

You’re catching your breath. The drawn curtains turn afternoon sunlight into a diffused red glow. It colors Kei’s pale skin and blonde hair a dreamy pink, and you roll onto your naked stomach, legs kicking up playfully.

Through the haze of warmth and pleasure, Kei cracks open an eye just a little bit to see you gazing at him with a sickly sweet smile. Your index finger traces his collarbone, setting fire to the skin underneath.

“What’re you doing?” He croaks, and your chuckle sends waves of pleasure to his crotch. You drag your blunt nails across his throat, and he suppresses a hiss.

“Can’t I touch you?”

“No.”

“Hmm. It’s a little late for that now, don’t you think?”

In all the years that came after this, Kei couldn’t figure out why this happened. It felt like—still feels like—a fluke the universe handed out to him. It never happens again and you never talk about it.

This memory is his most prized possession: he keeps it under lock and key in the back of his mind because the way his palm tenderly connects to your cheek baffles him. His hand slides down, knuckles skimming your jaw in soft strokes, like he’s carving you out of clay.

“You said—“

“I know what I said.” Your hand catches his wrist, bringing his long, slender digits to your lips. You inspect the cuts and bruises, how they’re bent and mangled from blocking harsh spikes and slamming down equally powerful ones. You kiss them like you could heal them, and Tsukishima wouldn’t put it past you.

“Did I change your mind?” He has a smile that’s a little too smug. You’re ignoring his face and he feels anxious; he wants your eyes on his so you’ll melt, so he can devour you while you helplessly watch just how you’ll go down.

That never happens. Not with you. You open your mouth and give one clean suck to his index finger, and Kei inhales through his nose to control the heat pooling to his abdomen.

You kiss the pad of his finger. “I guess I had second thoughts.”

“Second thoughts?”

“You’re trying to get into Tohoku, right?”

“So are you.”

“Right. If we don’t get in—“

“Don’t jinx it, stupid.”

“—if I don’t get in, I don’t want to feel like I wasted my time.”

His brows furrow. Kei draws up on his side, catching himself with his elbow. His body is thoroughly wrecked from giving you everything, and he shivers upon seeing the damage on your neck. But he pushes aside all thoughts of pleasure and stares down at you. “What are you talking about?”

Your hands drag down his chest, trailing the curves and contours of the muscle he’s built up for three years. His shoulders have broadened out and his waist tapers into a trim V. He is chiseled marble, a statue come to life in your bedroom. If only he were as permanent.

Kei follows your gaze, reaching down to intertwine your hands. The gesture is obscene, intimate, and reverent all at one. “(Name),” he pleads, and your eyes flicker up to his.

“You really think you’re going to stay in Miyagi? You, Tsukishima Kei? With the handsome face and the brains and the brawn?” You’re joking, trying to put on a smile but your voice is thick with emotion. You can’t hide, not after what you’ve just done. “You’re going to be, I don’t know, something great, and I’ll be here, like always.”

(Tsukishima, the one on the cold floor with his eyes closed could laugh. What he wouldn’t give to be here, with you.)

The old him didn’t share that sentiment. “So, you wanted to have sex with me because you didn’t want to miss the opportunity?”

“You’re missing the point, Kei.”

“Hey now, just because we fucked doesn’t mean you can get familiar.”

You try to pull your hand out of his grip, but his fingers curl, locking you in. He pulls you closer so your bodies are flush, and lays his head next to yours.

“You act like you’re not more than capable of getting out on your own.”

“It’s easier for you,” you admit, words nothing but a whisper. “You’re so bright, Kei, so talented. I think it would be cruel if you didn’t leave.”

“God you’re so,” he‘s stuttering, trying to keep the awe from your voice. He can’t hide from you, not after what you’ve just said. “You don’t get it, do you? How you’re the only good thing about Taiwa, about fucking Miyagi.”

“Kei,” you whisper, on the verge of tears. “Kei stop.”

“This is the only time I’m going to say something nice about you, so.” He tilts your chin with the hand that’s bigger than your whole head, gentle as a lamb. “I don’t want to be like all the other Karasuno grads, living and dying here.”

“We can’t do anything about it.”

“Like hell we can’t. If either of us get out, if I get out, we’re going together.”

“Ha,” you laugh dryly. It certainly knocks him down a peg to hear you reject his proposition. “Please don’t make a promise you can’t keep.”

“Well, you gotta keep up your end of the bargain. Get into Tohoku and we can take it from there. It’ll be you and me.”

“This doesn’t sound like the Tsukishima I know,” you say coyly, lopsided smirk making him crazy. “What’s got you so sentimental all of a sudden?”

“It could be that there’s someone I don’t mind being sappy for, especially if they’re naked under me.”

“I’m not—“ the words are stolen from you as Kei bruises your lips with a kiss. His hands turn your cheek toward him, and he kisses you into the mattress, all while climbing on top of you. He pulls back with a satisfied smirk, your lips glistening with (his) saliva.

“You were saying?”

You shove him and he falls back against your knees. “No, you were saying.”

Kei presses his chest against yours, kissing your neck, your jaw, then your lips in a softer kiss. “We’ll get out of here together. How does that sound?”

You don’t have a hopeful face. Your eyes have closed and you sigh, like you’re looking into the future and seeing Kei’s broken promise play over and over in your head. You two were young, but even you were less optimistic than he was.

You opened your eyes, letting your face morph into a happiness Kei now realizes is tinged with melancholy. He thinks it’s beautiful, in a tragic sense. Tragedies were timeless classics, like you.

“It sounds like you should put your money where your mouth is.”

“Do I ever disappoint?”

This brings out your real smile, beaming at him like the sun and the moon and every star in the galaxy. “Never. Not to me.”

Tsukishima lays on the cold floor with his hand over his eyes, lungs threatening to pop as he tries to exhale the guilt and heartache. None of the memories of this god forsaken town and this goddamn house hold anything but guilt, nothing but a knife in his stomach; the same one he stabbed into your back the day he signed on for the Saitama Spears and left.

He used to firmly believe that if you never try at something, it can’t break your heart. He took that attitude to volleyball and wasn’t proven wrong. Tsukishima does not know if it would hurt more if he’d tried with you. It wasn’t like he did it on purpose; he simply forgot. Somewhere in the shuffle, somewhere between keeping his promise and not, it slipped from his hands like a bad block.

He tries wiping the tears from his eyes. It’s not like thinking about it matters anymore; there’s no differentiation between the memories and the reality, only the same crushing pain.

And yet, Tsukishima finds himself dissociating into the ceiling. If he stops breathing, he can hear your laughter echo off the walls. Perhaps his ghost and yours can live here forever, like they do in his mind.

It’s the only way he can keep his promise.

149 notes · View notes

fan-imagines · 4 years

Text

Scott McCall~Being an Argent Pt. 2/?

MASTERLIST

Scott McCall x FemReader

Series Synopsis - Scott falls for you instead of your cousin Allison. After a few months, you get the bite, and you mom tries to kill you since you’re an Argent. You run away from her, and she makes up a story to tell. You come back when there is a threat in Beacon Hills, and everyone is astounded that you’re alive.

Part Synopsis - Scott ditches you at the party, and asks for a second chance. you also go to his first game, that he wins. -mostly a filler part

Word Count - 2.3k+

**Warnings** none really

I walk into my house, and throw my keys on the bowl on the side table.

‘’Where have you been young lady?’’ The lights turn on, and my mom is standing in front of me.

‘’I’m sorry, mom. I went to lacrosse practice after school, then the library, and I lost track of time. When I was driving home, I hit a dog, so I had to take it to the animal clinic.’’ I explain.

‘’You cannot be out too late in this town, Y/n. It’s dangerous here.’’ She says.

‘’Come on, mom. There is nothing here. The only thing that happened was me hitting a dog.’’

‘’I just need you to stay safe, sweetie. Go on upstairs and get ready for bed.’’ I nod, not wanting to question her, and walk up to my room. I quickly shower and brush my teeth before laying in my bed. I stare up at the ceiling, not being able to control my smile. I have a date for Friday with the cutest boy.

~~~~

I smile up at Scott as we dance together at the party he asked me to. I pull him a little closer to my body, but not too close, this is only our first date. I maintain our eye contact as we rock back and forth, and he holds my side. He squeezes my side before pulling away slightly and wincing. He does it again, and it causes some panic to rise in me.

‘’Are you okay?’’ I try to make eye contact with him again, but he averts his eyes.

‘’I’ll be right back.’’ I watch him walk away from me for a few seconds before I decide I should go and check after him. He did not look alright. I push my way past people, trying to get to him. He makes it all the way outside, and I quickly go down the stairs to see him getting in his car, and driving away. Before I can think too much about it, I hear my name being called behind me. I turn to the man speaking.

‘’I’m a friend of Scott's.’’ I turn back to the road I just watched Scott drive down. ‘’My name is Derek.’’ He steps closer to me, and I am a little wary, especially thinking about what my mom told me just a few days ago.

‘'Umm, do you know where he just went?’’

‘’He had some issues. He asked me if I could take you home.’’ I take a breath and choose to believe him. I follow him to his car, and sit in the front seat.

‘’I’m, uh, staying at my cousin’s tonight.’’ I say, kind of nervous around him. He seems older than me, but he can’t be more than three or four years older.

‘’Okay, where is that?’’ I give him address, and we don’t really speak after that. I’m thinking too much to speak. Where did Scott go? What happened? Who the heck is Derek, and is he an actual friend of Scott’s? By the time i look back up, we’re at Allison’s house. I thank him for the ride, and silently thank god for allowing me to still be alive after riding with a stranger.

I make my way to Allison’s room, even though she isn’t even here yet. I take off my jacket, and sit on the floor, against the wall with a pillow. I wonder if I should call Scott, but I also don’t know what happened, so I don’t want to bother him if it’s something serious.

About ten minutes go by, and Allison walks into the room, and smiles at me.

‘’Hey, why are you home so early? I thought you had a hot date.’’ She inquires as she takes off her jacket.

‘’Some guy named Derek told me that he had something come up, and he dropped me off about fifteen minutes ago.’’

‘’Oh, I'm sorry.’’

‘’No, it's okay. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt.’’ I har a rapid knocking on the door, and then Allison’s name being called. I stand up and follow her out to hallway where the stairs are and look over the railing to see Stiles standing there with an awed look on his face.

‘’Hi, Stiles.’’ I say.

‘’Hi, you’re, umm, you’re here.’’

‘’Yes, where else would I be? Scott ditched me.’’ I cross my arms over my chest, waiting for any sort of explanation.

‘’Yeah, um, about that. I’ll just have him talk to you. I just wanted to make sure you were home safe.’’ He says and looks at my aunt.

‘’That’s very kind. Well, it’s a little late, and you should be getting home. It’s not safe this late at night.’’ She says. He nods and steps away from the door. She closes it behind him, and I look at Allison confused. We go back to her room, and shower and change before talking most of the night.

~~~~

I walk out of the school after attending the lacrosse game at the high school. Lydia and Jackson kept us later than intended talking about themselves, as per usual, but I don’t mind too much. Allison walks beside me, and I see Scott sitting on a bench, bobbing his knee up and down.

‘'I’ll leave you to it.’’ She says and she walks behind him, and towards the sidewalk as we wait for her dad to come pick us up.

‘'So, what happened? You left me stranded at the party.’’ I say as I walk past him, wanting to keep up a strong exterior.

‘’I know. I know. I’m really sorry, I am. But, you’re gonna have to trust that I had a really good reason.’' He walks beside me.

‘’Did you get sick?’’ i question.

‘’I definitely had an attack from something.’’ I squint my eyes in confusion.

‘'Am I going to get an explanation?’’ I stop and turn to him.

‘’Can you find it in your heart to trust me on this?’’ He pleads. I sigh, knowing that I want to just forget about it. It’s really not that serious.

‘’Am I going to regret this?’’

‘'Probably.’’ I chuckle at him.

‘’So is that a yes to a second chance?’’

‘’A definite yes.’’ We get a little closer, but we’re pulled out of the moment when I hear a car horn honk. I turn and see the maroon SUV, which is my Uncle Chris’ car. ‘’That’s my uncle. I’d better go.’’ I smile at him and he nods. Allison gets into the front seat, and I get into the back, driver’s side.

~~~~

‘’Are you excited for the game tonight, Y/n?’’ Lydia ask me. We make our way up the bleachers, wanting to find good seats. We it with Lydia, me, Allison, then Uncle Chris on the end.

‘’Umm, yeah, sure.’’ The referee blows his whistle which lets all of the first line know they need to get into position. Beacon Hills gets the ball, and the players fight over it for a few seconds. The ball ends up on the ground, so both Jackson and Scott go for it at the same time. Jackson gets there sooner, and shoves Scott to the side to get the ball. He makes a shot, and it’s a point for us, but I can’t help but focus on Scott. Everyone around me cheers, and I clap too. Lydia bends down to grab the poster that she made, saying ‘WE LUV U JACKSON’.

She gestures for me and Allison to help her hold it up, and I nod grabbing the middle. Allison grabs the side. We cheer, as the players gather round to discuss the next play.

The game continues, and Jackson has made every point, and thrown every ball. The score is 3-5, with the other team winning. There’s another time out, and Uncle Chris leans over to Allison. I hear him ask which one Jackson is, and Lydia answers him.

‘’Number 11. The only one that has caught the ball.’’ I lightly roll my eyes to this, they haven't even given Scott the chance to prove himself. Lydia stands up again and lifts her sign. ‘’Y/n, some help here please.’’ I sigh and stand up, holding a different sign that says, ‘Jackson is #1’.

The ref blows the whistle, and they start again. The ball is thrown into the air, and Scott catches it, and takes off down the field. He dodges all the opposite players coming at him, and I perk up. He throws it into the net, and our score changes from a three to a four, and everyone goes crazy. I shoot up, and drop the sign I was holding to cheer. He scores another in about twenty seconds, and the ball flies through the players stick, and into the goal.

Coach tries to persuade the ref to keep the point, and they give it to him. We all continue to cheer, and I even see Lydia clapping.

There’s about thirty-five seconds on the clock, and the score is tied. Jackson and a player from the other team go face-to-face to fight for the ball. The ref blows his whistle to start the time again, and the ball is tossed to Scott. He carries the ball to a little closer to the goal, and looks back and forth to see what direction he wants to take. I check the clock, and there are fifteen seconds left.

‘'Come on, you can do it, Scott.’’ I whisper and hold my hands to my face in anticipation.

At four seconds left, two players charge at Scott, but he winds back and throws the ball into the goal, and it makes it in just as the clock hits zero.

‘’Whoo!’’ I shout, and everyone starts running from the stands and onto the field.

I get to the field, but Scott isn’t anywhere to be seen. I see he’s running off the field,back towards the school. I follow him in confusion, wanting to congratulate him. I follow him into the gym, and I know he went to the boy’s locker room. I hesitate to go in at first, but then decide I don’t care. As I turn the corner I see his helmet on the floor.

‘’Scott? Scott, are you here?’’ I make my way in deeper, and see broken glass from a mirror covering the floor. The walls start to creak and rustle, and I start to get nervous as I look around to see if he’s here. I put my back to a locker, feeling like I'm being watched, and not wanting someone or something to come up behind me. A locker door closes, and I move away from the locker I was leaning on.

‘’Scott?’’ I walk towards the showers where I hear water dripping. ‘’Scott?’’ I see him leaning his arms against the shower wall, and I step up to him. ‘’Hey, are you okay? Scott. You scared me. Are you alright?’’ I rub his shoulder, and he nods.

‘’Yeah. Sorry, I just got kind of lightheaded for a sec.’’

‘’Maybe it’s the adrenaline. You were pretty amazing out there.’’

‘’I’m sorry for acting really weird today.’’ I dismiss him.

‘’It’s okay. I can handle weird.’’ I smile.

‘’To be completely honest, you make me kind of nervous.’’

‘'I do?’’

‘’Kind of like, really nervous,’’ I chuckle at him, and look down. ‘’I just – I just want to make sure I get my second chance.’’

‘’You have it already. I’m just waiting for you to take it.’’ I smile at him, gaining more confidence. I step away from him, and he comes with me.

‘'Well, maybe I need to learn to take more chances.’' He gets closer to me, and I feel my heart start to pick up pace.

‘’Maybe you do.’’ I look up, and he’s half a foot away from my face. I look at his lips, then back to hie eyes, and he does the same to me. He closes the gap, and slowly connects our lips. ^^^ He holds my waist, and I put my arms on his shoulders. We pull away after a few seconds, and I giggle.

‘’I gotta get back to Allison and my uncle.’’ He nods. I give a quick peck on the lips before walking away. I see Stiles as I am walking, and greet him. ‘'Stiles.’’ I give him a light wave as I feel a small blush rise in my cheeks.

‘'Hey, yeah.’’ He waves back, and I keep walking out.

I make it to Allison, and I can just feel the stupid grin I have on my face. Especially when she starts smiling back.

‘’So, what happened?’’ She quips. I see Uncle Chris looking at me, so I play it off.

‘’Nothing really. I just went to make sure he was okay, and he told me he was glad for a second chance.’’ He looks away, and Allison raises an eyebrow. I nod, and she knows exactly what that means. She squeals a little, and pulls me into a crushing hug. I laugh with her, and then we follow her dad to the car.

~~~~

I wave to Uncle Chris and Allison as I make my way into my house.

‘’How was the game, sweetie?’’ My mom asks me as I step into the kitchen, where she is.

‘’It was great. We won, and Scott scored the winning goal.’’ I smile. I grab a drink from the fridge. I pull myself up onto the counter.

‘'That’s not all that happened. Spill.’’ I giggle, thinking about it again.

‘’He kissed me. After the game.’’

‘’Shut up, Y/n! Yay!’’ I laugh with her, and she gives me a hug.

‘’It was amazing, mom.’’

‘'I bet it was, sweetie. I’m gonna head off to bed now. I have to meet Chris early tomorrow to talk about work.’’ She gives me a kiss on the head, and walks off to her room. I hop off the counter, and do the same.

31 notes · View notes

beeblebrox-be-damned · 4 years

Text

Silohouette (Part 1: Fertilization)

Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader

I didn’t intend to start another series so soon after Drive Him Crazy, but here we are. As always, suggestions and ideas are adored.

TW: Stalking

“Got any change?”

You jumped a bit in your seat, glancing up at the man standing beside you. “Sorry, what’d you say?” The bar wasn’t loud, but it the drone of voices and the dazed state you were in did well to make sure you couldn’t hear anything unless you were concentrating.

“I asked if you had any change. For a fiver, I mean.”

You dug out your wallet. “One’s or coins?”

The man handed you a five dollar bill. “One’s would be great.”

Without a word, you handed him five dollar bills. He took then graciously and tucked one into his pocket. The other four he slid to the bartender. “Rum-and-coke for me and the lady, please,” he said.

You glanced over at him. “Thanks.”

He shrugged, taking the seat next to you. “Don’t mention it. Not many people would be so kind to a stranger.” His voice was rough, but kind. You shrugged.

“Change is nothing, don’t worry about it.” You brushed it off. You were about to leave and weren’t very keen on conversing at the moment, but you didn’t want to seem rude. The bartender handed you your drink. You noticed he made sure that the man next to you didn’t touch it. Sad that in this day and time you couldn’t trust anyone.

The man shrugged. “Used to, people were always like that.” His tone was almost wistful. “At least, that’s what I’ve heard,” he finished quickly. You looked at him quizzically for a moment then took a sip of your drink.

“Well, considering everything that’s going on nowadays, I suppose it pays to be guarded in some ways.” You tapped the ice in your glass, watching idly as it bobbed in the amber liquid.

He nodded. “Very true.”

You lapsed into silence for several minutes, both of you unmoving asides from the occasional sip. Once you reached the bottom of your glass, you stood with a brief stretch. “Well, thank you for the drink. It’s getting late.” You shrugged your jacket on. “I’d better be getting home.”

The man looked at you with an unplaceable expression. “Have a good night, then. Stay safe.” He gave you a brief smile. “Don’t want to be late for work in the morning.”

You nodded and shoved your hands in your pockets, turning and making your way out of the building. The cool night air hit your face. It was raining, you realized with a grimace. You pulled up your hood and walked quickly down the sidewalk.

This late at night, the streets were nearly silent. You loved it when it was like this. It was one of the reasons you always stayed at your old haunt so late into the evening- so you could enjoy this solitude after you left. Puddles glinted orange in the dim streetlights, leaves plastered to their depths.

It was late, but you were unafraid. Confident, really. These were your streets. You’d seen the way people shied away from you, and you loved it. You could go anywhere any time you wanted here. Nobody would bother you.

Sometimes it paid to be unapproachable.

Which made it rather odd that someone had spoken to you in the bar. You’d gone there for years to people-watch and nobody had ever had the balls to speak to you. Especially not someone so handsome.

Handsome? Since when did you look at other people that way? You snorted at yourself, shaking your head. But you had to admit, he was rather attractive.

Oh well. People didn’t like you. You didn’t like people.

You walked onwards in the rain.

He’d noticed you the first time he walked into that bar. The grim set of your mouth. The way you glared blankly at everyone. The way you never spoke accept to order a drink and thank the bartender.

You were attractive, even in your sullen demeanor. He found himself draw to you, mind always wandering back to that nameless, silent woman in the bar. Each night he went there, there you were, in your same spot. It perplexed him. Surely you had friends or a significant other to be with. But then again, perhaps not. You seemed like a true loner.

It had been an innocent thing at first, it really had. He’d simply been searching for a quiet, uncrowded place to spend his free time. Perhaps that’s why you were there too. He found himself wondering about you; what you liked to drink, what made you smile, what you liked and disliked. He watched you for weeks before he finally got up the nerve to talk to you.

Of course, he knew striking up of conversation wouldn’t be easy. He’d have to go about this slowly. So at first, he started with a simple request, just asking a favor of you. Not only would he seem unthreatening (after all, maybe you didn’t trust people easily) but he would also get a better grasp on what your personality was like.

He smiled. It couldn’t have gone better. Sure, it was only a handful of words, but it meant the world to him. He meant what he said; not many people would be so kind.

You were like a geode. Your exterior was hard and cold and grey, but he knew that once he chipped that away, you’d shine. He could almost imagine seeing a smile quirk your lips.

He didn’t even know your name and yet he’d fallen for you, hard. Which is why, he supposed, he was so worried when you left.

He’d said be careful. He meant it. There were tens of thousands of hungry predators roaming the streets of New York, each one of them waiting with dripping jaws for a lone woman like you. Of course, you looked like you could hold your own, but what if?

He debated the ethics of what he was about to do for an entire two seconds before he slid off his stool and followed after you. Your foot had hardly even left the threshold.

You walked with your head up and your hands jammed into your pockets. You were confident, but even confidence couldn’t protect you from the worst of the worst this city had to offer. The longer he followed you and the dimmer the streetlights became, the more confidant in his own decision he became. You’d be safe with him watching over you. Anyone who tried anything would meet a swift and just punishment.

He stayed several yards behind you. His steps were nearly silent, any sound he did make muted totally by the rain. This part of town was a quiet one, he realized, but even so, you could never be too careful.

You reached your apartment with no interruptions. You dug out your key and jammed it in the lock. It took several tries before the door would open, and one good kick. You sighed as the maligned gutters high above your head dripped dirty rainwater down your back as you stepped inside.

You switched on the light, sighing as the dingy room greeted you. You tossed your soaked jacket onto the chair by the door, your purse following soon after. Your shoes took their place beneath the chair. Hopefully they’d dry before morning. Going to work with soggy shoes was a drag.

You changed into sleep clothes, a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants, and brushed your teeth in the tiny bathroom. You stared at your haggard reflection in the mirror, sighing. You knew you shouldn’t stay out so late, but it was better than being here.

It was good to have a roof over your head, but sometimes it was hard to be grateful for your lot in life. You were smart, could’ve had so much better. You were barely through your first semester of college when it happened, the Blip.

Your parents, gone. Relatives, gone. Most of the people you’d known all your life, all gone in an instant. Some of them hadn’t turned to dust. The aftermath of so many disappearances left many dead. Driverless cars careened off the roads with passengers or hit other vehicles and killed those in them. Airplanes dropped out of the air like shot birds, their crews gone. Doctors and nurses gone from hospitals, leaving their patients to die. Emergency rooms were overloaded with the injured, not enough people to help them.

Without your parents, schooling became impossible. You had been able to finish out your first semester, but after that you couldn’t continue. The money your parents had in the bank was locked up, not enough people to deal with the rush of pending legal matters to be seen to. The house and cars were repossessed, leaving you in the streets. By some stroke of luck, you’d found work as a taxi driver, but hours were long and paid little.

In the end, this was all you could afford. With a heavy sigh that was almost routine now, you sank into the lumpy couch, dragging your blankets over yourself. Even with the lights switched off and the outside world darkened by rain, light still poured in the windows. You hid your face beneath the pillow and hoped to get a few hours of rest.

Bucky’s heart had dropped to his feet when he saw where you lived. No wonder you spent so much time at the bar. A seedy apartment complex was no place for someone like you. It was obvious the locks had issues too. He grimaced. Anyone could break in there and steal everything you owed or do something even worse to you if you were home.

He stood on the sidewalk for a long time. He could see your silhouette through the thin curtains as you moved through your tiny abode. Eventually the lights switched off. He turned with a heavy sigh and trudged back up the street. it would be a long walk back to his part of town, but it was worth it to know you were safe.

Surely you hadn’t grown up like this. Not with the way you spoke and held yourself. No, you must’ve been one of the victims of the Snap who hadn’t died. You’d been one who’d been left to fend for themselves.

He walked for a long time, thinking. It weighed heavy on his heart to think about you living in such a decrepit place. Not only were the living conditions awful, but you ’d be in constant danger.

Finally he reached his home. It was a modest place, but larger on the inside than it looked outwardly. He unlocked the door with a key-code and a fingerprint scan. All Stark technology. The house had originally been Steve’s but he’d practically given it to Bucky when he’d decided to move closer to the Tower.

Bucky loved the house. It had an old-timey air to it, but it had been specially built at Steve’s request. Once Bucky had been cleared of coding in Wakanda, Steve had requested a house be built for he and Bucky away from the center of the city where Bucky could feel safer while he worked through the mess his mind had been left in.

The lower levels were where Bucky had formerly resided. In order to keep him from fleeing and accidentally hurting someone, there was only one entrance, a heavy door that locked mainly from the outside. There was a lock on the inside too, but at that time only Steve’s prints had been in the security system. The door was heavy enough that even Bucky would have difficulties breaking through it. If he had even tried, Steve would have been notified and been able to monitor the situation remotely via camera.

Now with Steve moved out, Bucky had the upper floors to himself. It was nice, and he felt safe here. It was an odd feeling, sometimes, feeling truly at home. It had taken a long time for him to get to that point, but he had, and he was proud of himself for it.

He lay in bed that night, thinking. An idea wormed its way into his brain, planting himself deep in a dark recess in the corner of his mind. Perhaps this could be home to someone else too someday.

#dark!bucky #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky barnes #dark marvel #stalking #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader

218 notes · View notes

kindofcashton · 4 years

Text

𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕 • chapter 1 (Calum Hood AU)

RAIN SLID DOWN the windows of the taxi in iridescent gray droplets. Outside, the sky was a silken silver, the occasional peak of sunlight threatening to break through the clouds. Blanketed over everything, from the treetops to the sidewalks, was a cool dampness that left a chill in the air.

My breath began fogging up the glass, and I wiped a hand across the window to clear my view. I always loved rain, and the way it seemed to soak the whole world. It was calming in a way, almost an excuse to slow down and just breathe.

In the seat next to me, Hannah clearly wasn't as big a fan of the dismal day as I was. Her sighs whooshed through the small cabin like gale force winds. The crossing of her arms and scowl on her lips was another indication of her utter displeasure.

"I promise you it's not like this all the time," she told me, irritation edging her tone. She glanced up at the driver, and threw her hands in the air. "Could you pick it up a little please? I'd like to get there sometime this week."

A small smile twitched at my lips. Hannah was quite the character, but in the 7 months I'd known her she'd become one of my best friends. Living together in a cramped dorm would sort of force you to become at least sort of friends, and luckily the two of us hit it off immediately. We had very different approaches to college life, but it was actually nice having someone so unlike me around. When differences would normally push people apart, they brought us closer together.

"I don't mind the weather, actually," I commented. "I used to love the rain as a kid."

Hannah snorted good naturedly. "Of course the philosophical scholar would love rain." I chuckled at her joke, and turned my attention back to the window.

As well as being serene, the rain was also a great distraction. A thousand thoughts were swirling through my mind, but I let the raindrops wash them away until my brain was empty. I promised myself I wouldn't worry over things anymore; everything was totally out of my control.

"Finally," Hannah exclaimed as we turned down a neighborhood road. I watched the houses blur by, all of them quaint and colorful. Hannah was right; this area was amazing.

"I hope the guys are all home," she voiced, frowning. "Ash texted and said he was over." Hannah's demeanor visibly brightened when she mentioned her boyfriend. Ashton had been a staple in her life ever since I'd known her. The two of them started dating in high school, and even when she went off to college and he stayed back they never broke up. Their relationship wasn't all sunshine, though; I'd heard her scream at him through voicemail more times than I could count, and he often blew up her phone with texts for hours on end. But they were madly in love, and I doubted they'd ever split.

The other guys were a mystery to me. From what Hannah had told me briefly before we left, Luke, Michael, and Calum lived together while Ashton had his own apartment. Her boyfriend had a pretty well established job apparently, but the other three were still figuring things out. Michael was described as "colorful in more ways than one", which confused me to no end. Luke was the "pierced puppy", a rugged exterior with a sweet personality. And Calum was the quiet one, always in the room but never in the conversation. Hannah insisted he wasn't a creep though, and that she actually really liked him despite his lack of participation.

I hoped the guys were as great as she described, seeing as I'd be spending a lot of time with them in the near future. Hannah had basically forced me to come back with her when we both left uni, and even though she lived with Ashton when she wasn't at school she offered to stay at the house with me so we could all be together.

Seeing as I didn't have many more options, I agreed. That's the thing about being stone-cold broke; you take what you can get.

"Here you go," the driver said tiredly. Hannah threw him a wad of cash, and he looked at me in the rear view mirror. My cheeks flushed crimson, and I forced a sheepish smile before getting out of the car.

"I feel like I'm drowning!" Hannah yelled over the pouring rain, pulling her suitcases out of the trunk. I squinted against the onslaught of rain, fumbling to get my own bags and praying I didn't forget anything. I heard someone's voice call out from the porch of the house, and Hannah cheered in response. She ran up the driveway, suitcases swinging, then flung them down on the wet grass without hesitation so she could jump into the arms of whoever was waiting. Ashton, I assumed.

The cab backed out of the driveway, and I struggled to lift all of my bags which were slick with rain. A figure appeared in front of me, clad in jeans and a damp hoodie.

"Need some help?" I caught the subtle glint of a lip ring, and guessed this was Luke. Breaking into a grateful smile, I nodded.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" I said, handing him a suitcase. He laughed, head ducked to avoid getting rain in his eyes.

"Makes me want to stay outside, soak up the sun," he replied, leading me up toward the front door.

Once inside, I dropped the bags in my hands and pushed my sopping wet hair out of my face. A quick once-over of the house showed me a living room to my left, what looked like a kitchen extending off of that, and staircases winding to an upstairs that had half a dozen closed doors.

Hannah was still attached to Ashton, but tore her lips from his long enough to say, "What do you think, Scar?"

Luke's blue eyes looked at me quizzically. "'Scar?'"

I extended a hand. "Scarlett." He shook it with a jovial smile, and I gave Hannah a questioning look. "You didn't tell them my name?"

She shrugged, giggling as Ashton kissed the side of her head. "Guess I forgot."

Embarrassment sizzled through me, no doubt making my skin flush. The last thing I wanted was to be a nuisance to the guys who were so graciously letting me stay. I mean, a random girl barging into their lives, living in their house, without them knowing so much as her name? It was a miracle they didn't hate me off the bat.

"Are you sure you have to stay here?" Ashton asked Hannah, hands looped around her waist as she tousled his hair. "I want you with me."

"Sorry Ash, but I'm here for my girl. You can stay too, if you want. We can share the bed, even if it does get a little cramped." She poked his chest suggestively, and Luke rolled his eyes at the two of them.

"Alright, hormone monsters, dismount before I go blind from watching you," he reprimanded, shooting me a smirk. I liked Luke; he was so easy-going, and I'd only known him for less than five minutes.

"Ashton, I don't really care if you stick around. Hannah'll be staying in the basement with the futon couch, so you're welcome to share."

Hannah wrinkled her nose. "You stuck me in the basement? Where is Scarlett staying?"

"Michael's room. He offered to take the couch."

I instantly spoke up. "He doesn't have to do that, I'll gladly sleep down here—"

"Not happening," a voice interrupted from upstairs. I looked up to see someone leaning against the railing, watching us from above. He had fire engine red hair arranged in haphazard spikes fringed across his forehead, and what looked like a piercing through his eyebrow.

I guessed it was Michael, judging by the red hair which must have been what Hannah meant by "colorful."

"You couldn't drag me back to my room if you tried. You're sleeping in it whether you like it or not."

I huffed disbelievingly, slightly confused why he was being so generous. A small fear that Hannah told them a bit too much information about me and my life crept into my brain, and I fought to ignore it.

"I really don't want to intrude, it's your house after all," I responded as Michael made his way down the stairs to join us. I wasn't one to accept charity easily, even though I knew I had to right now. He was just being kind, but I didn't want to make the impression that I was selfish.

"If you really feel that bad about it we can switch off every other week." His goofy smile told me he was joking, but I appreciated the effort even still. I just shrugged in defeat, and shot him a warm smile.

Michael clasped his fingers together, a grin stretching his lips. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm starved. Pizza?"

Luke groaned. "How many times are we gonna order pizza, Mike? Some of us get sick of it, you know."

Michael flipped his middle finger up at Luke, and I resisted a grin. Maybe staying with these guys wouldn't be so hard. Judging from our first interactions, we'd get along great.

The only one I hadn't met yet was Calum, and when I asked Hannah where he was she merely rolled her eyes.

"Who even knows? He'll roll in at around midnight and be gone by noon the next day."

Frowning, I followed the others to the living room as Michael went to order in the pizza. Why would they all want to be friends with someone like Calum? He didn't sound very nice at all. But even so, Hannah spoke about him with a certain forgiving tone, and I think she truly did care about him. The five of us gathered on the big couches, Hannah laying across Ashton of course, and turned on some action movie that Luke and Michael got overly excited about.

"This is the best scene, watch," Luke said to me, pointing as the hero and the villain began fist-fighting in a series of jumpy, jarring cuts. I raised my eyebrows doubtfully, and when he glanced over to see my reaction I laughed.

"It's really good, I swear. After this, he's gonna go blow up that building and—"

All of a sudden, the front door opened with a bang, announcing a new arrival. Michael shot up from the sofa, and called out a greeting.

Hannah jutted her head toward the foyer. "Let's go." We all followed Michael toward the front door, and saw someone holding a few boxes of pizza loosely in his arms.

His dark hair was wet and plastered across his forehead, looking curled and disheveled. A black leather jacket shone with raindrops, the band tee shirt underneath spattered with water. Black jeans tucked into dark boots, and a scowl to match the overall dreary aesthetic was painted across his face.

I knew it was Calum without even asking.

"Look who finally showed up!" Luke accused, arms folded with a smirk.

Calum used one hand to push his wet hair back, the other holding the pizza. "You seriously ordered pizza again? The delivery guy practically threw these at me because he was so sick of seeing Michael every other day."

Michael snorted, and happily took the pizzas from Calum into the kitchen. He then turned his freezing gaze into me, and his brown eyes were entirely unreadable as he scanned my appearance.

I felt hot and self-conscious under his close stare, and tried to muster a smile. "I'm Scarlett, nice to meet you." I extended my hand, expecting him to at least shake it. But Calum simply watched me, a blank expression on his face, and I jerked my hand back in embarrassment.

"Way to be friendly, Cal," Hannah scolded, sighing. "Can't you be civil for like, two minutes?"

"Who shakes hands in this century?" he rebutted, the scathing look he sent my way burning into my skin. "Whatever, I'm starving." He started to make his way toward the kitchen, completely ignoring me as his shoulder bumped into mine.

Hannah shouted after him, "Yeah, that's what happens when all you have is beer all day." Ashton turned and said something into her ear, and Hannah stamped her foot in response as she hissed something back.

Taken aback by Calum's chilly greeting, I began to feel less comfortable about living here. Why couldn't he be as easy-going as the others? He was just making things difficult by being so cold. I knew it wasn't an opportune situation, but we all had to make the best of it. But something told me Calum would stubbornly oppose this idea.

"Cheese or pepperoni?" Michael asked me as I handed him my plate.

"Plain is fine," I responded, and forced myself to ignore Calum's snort. What was so wrong with liking plain pizza? Don't let him get to you like this, Scar.

We all gathered around the table and chowed down, and I realized this was my first real meal of the day, seeing as I'd only had a granola bar before leaving for the airport that morning. Everything happened so fast, I felt like I'd just been in my dorm five minutes ago. How quickly things could change.

"So, how long are you two gonna be here? Till the next semester?" Luke bit into the last bit of crust on his pizza, glancing between Hannah and me.

"Not sure," she answered for us, and the look we exchanged was enough communication for her to continue. "We're pretty flexible right now, just trying to keep ourselves open for new opportunities."

"I'm hoping to take some summer courses," I added. "Keep up with my class load."

"But it isn't even summer. University is still in session." Calum's voice was searing, and I winced at his words. I was well aware of this fact, as was my empty bank account.

Hannah glared at him from across the table. "Our schedules weren't the same as everyone else's, so we're home now. Is that a problem?" It was hard to believe the two of them were best friends, what with Hannah's curt tone and Calum's glower.

"No, just wondering." I didn't expect a longer reply from him, and after he said this Calum scooted out from the table and left, without so much as clearing his empty plate.

A defeated breath whooshed out of my lips, and I slumped back in my chair as I rubbed my temples. My first day here hadn't even ended, and already I wasn't sure how long I would last.

64 notes · View notes

purpleliketheplague · 4 years

Text

Low Budget Little Toaster To the Rescue- Part 1

Smith, is it?

(No, sir. I'm Jones. Your past cameraman graduated high school and now has a job as a lion tamer in the circus.)

Oh, I have a couple more movie ideas that I want to film. Sequels to the original Brave little toaster?

Jones looks at the script (You didn't get the original script writers for the first film?)

No, the horror writer got a movie deal and so did the children's book writer. They stopped answering my calls.

(Okay. What do you want me to do?)

Nothing. Hey we need the credits.

(On index cards? Colored blue?)

And here's the title over a backdrop of the town.

(That's one of those road mats that kids often play on.)

A shot of the car.

(SNAP)

Hills.

(SNAP)

And here's the car again.

(SNAP)

License plate shot.

(SNAP)

Bumper sticker.

(SNAP)

Shot of Chris.

(I've seen your last movie. That looks nothing like her. SNAP)

The Car Radio

(SNAP)

Shot of the two.

(SNAP)

Just Rob.

(SNAP)

The car is turning.

(SNAP)

Shot of Rob.

(SNAP)

Car driving past the college.

(SNAP)

They're talking.

(Some Snaps)

He grabs the wheel.

(SNAP. Wait, I know these two. Jake and Rose from Drama club?)

And now they're parking the car.

(SNAP)

Some more talking.

(SNAP)

Rob drives away.

(SNAP)

Chris is alone.

(SNAP)

He sees Chris in the rear view mirror.

(SNAP)

Now he turns up the radio.

(SNAP. You do have a reputation for recording off of the oldies' stations.)

Exterior shot of the college.

(SNAP. You got that from one of my college brochures.)

And here's the radio. Behind a potted plant. Move the antenna a bit.

(SNAP. How'd you rope Cody into this mess? The student council president?)

And he knocks the pot over.

(SNAP. That's a fake plant.)

It shatters.

(SNAP)

And now here they are. Bring them all in frame.

(SNAP)

Put the lamp on the desk. Near the radio.

(SNAP)

And now the lamp's headed out the window.

(SNAP)

And the lamp fell into the bushes.

(SNAP. Again, fake plants.)

The lamp pokes its head out of the bush.

(SNAP)

The lamp is hopping down the road.

(Multiple SNAPS.)

Overhead shot.

(SNAP. Wait, how'd it manage to not be seen?)

More hurrying lamp.

(Multiple snaps)

Lamp catapults itself into the house.

(SNAP)

I want a shot of the computer.

(SNAP)

The door opening.

(SNAP)

Now I want a shot of the dorm room.

(SNAP)

Okay, Jake. You're in.

(SNAP)

Rob turns on the lamp.

(SNAP)

And the computer.

(SNAP)

Shot of the lamp.

(SNAP)

Shot of the others.

(SNAP)

Now, bring in the rat.

(SNAP. Hey, that's a hand puppet.)

The toaster, the vacuum and the blanket react.

(SNAP)

The rat again.

(SNAP. You bought a mouse puppet out a catalog. This is really low budget.)

Now the rat is loose.

(SNAP)

Now the rat and the appliances are talking.

(SNAP)

Toaster bumps the rat.

(SNAP)

The rat kicks the toaster.

(SNAP)

Now the rat approaches the cat.

(SNAP. A real cat? Wow, I never thought that would be in the budget.)

The rat talks about the cat.

(SNAP. That cat is asleep, thank goodness.)

Shot of the kittens.

(SNAP. And real kittens. Also asleep.)

The cat is awake and is angry at the rat.

(SNAP. Footage of a cat puppet.)

Now, more shots of the rat.

(SNAP)

Shot of the kittens.

(SNAP. Aww that's cute.)

More cat and rat shots.

(SNAP)

Now, bring the chihuahua in.

(SNAP. Wait, that's Queso. The dog owned by the manager of Tierra del Taco. And why is there an ad for that place in the dog's cage?)

He's paying me for advertising his restaurant.

The rat is going closer to the dog's cage.

(SNAP)

The dog is angry.

(SNAP. Please, give the poor thing the bacon. Don't tease it.)

Shot in the dog's cage.

(SNAP. All I'm paying attention is Three tacos and a large coke 9.99. Did you tear up a menu?)

Now the rat is walking towards a snake.

(SNAP. You were doing good on the real animals... until this one. That's fake. And a spray bottle?)

And now the monkey's awake.

(SNAP. Ape! That's an ape... and it's a stuffed animal.)

Toaster pushes a water ball towards it.

(SNAP)

It drinks.

(SNAP. You had a crew man dump the water out offscreen.)

Blanket in shot.

(SNAP)

Return to the rat.

(SNAP)

Back to Blanket and toaster.

(SNAP)

Shots of the monkey, the rat and the appliances.

(Three Snaps)

Shot of the vacuum. And turn on the lights.

(SNAP)

Overhead shot. It's a mess.

(SNAP)

Back to the monkey.

(SNAP)

The blanket puts a cup on its head.

(SNAP)

Shot of the cat and the chihuahua.

(SNAP)

A cup falls on the rat.

(SNAP)

Bring in the radio.

(SNAP)

The radio joins toaster and Blanket.

(SNAP)

Shot of the cat again.

(SNAP)

Musical sequence! Let the dog out of its cage.

(SNAP. From your previous work, things are going to get... weird.)

They gather around the stool.

(SNAP)

Spotlight on the dog.

(SNAP)

Overhead shot.

(SNAP)

Bring the monkey in frame.

(SNAP)

Shot of all of them. Including the snake.

(SNAP. I still see the Toy barn logo sticker on that snake.)

Get the dog off the stool.

(SNAP)

The dog is crying.

(SNAP)

Bring the others in frame.

(SNAP. Did you just switch between Real Queso and a dog puppet?)

Yes. Now there's a shot of the Dog in the highway.

(SNAP. We have a chihuahua, not a dachshund.)

Now it's crossing the street.

(SNAP.)

Rob rescues the dog.

(SNAP)

Bring in the chorus.

(SNAP)

The vacuum knocks Rob's coat off.

(SNAP)

The snake is now around the vacuum.

(SNAP)

The dog and Rob's photo.

(SNAP)

More dancing.

(SNAP)

Now the cat's in frame.

(SNAP)

Cat is outside under a mail box.

(SNAP. That's a stuffed animal.)

Rob saves the cat.

(SNAP)

The chorus is back.

(SNAP)

The vacuum is cleaning up some of the mess.

(SNAP)

More singing.

(SNAP)

The rat is annoyed.

(SNAP)

The cat and the dog are dancing.

(SNAP)

Shadow puppets.

(SNAP)

The snake is being chased.

(SNAP)

It hides behind a tree.

(SNAP)

It's being slammed against the grass.

(SNAP)

Rob saves the snake.

(SNAP)

Now the monkey's turn.

(SNAP)

Shot of the monkey and Rob.

(SNAP)

They're putting trash in the bag.

(SNAP)

Blanket bursts out of the bag.

(SNAP)

They launch the dog into the air.

(SNAP)

The radio is cleaning up paper.

(SNAP)

The vacuum is cleaning up some debris.

(SNAP)

Cat sweeps things into the trash.

(SNAP)

Toaster puts confetti into its crumb tray and then lets it loose.

(SNAP)

The rat is still annoyed.

(SNAP)

Overhead Shot

(SNAP)

The rat is flying on a paper airplane.

(SNAP)

Bring the song to a conclusion.

(SNAP)

#tblt #crackfic

4 notes · View notes

screensirenfic · 5 years

Text

Black Leather - Chapter 18

Billy kept good on his word on waiting for me, sitting silently in his Camaro smoking cigarettes out his window and listening to Metallica tapes on his radio.

It was actually kind of sweet; the man’s newfound patience an endearing personality trait so many guys our age were lacking.

I’d finished stripping out Marty’s brake pads with minimal ribbing from Johnny; his focus too fixated on Billy to tease me about my inadequate arm length.

He’d tried teasing me about Billy, until I’d reminded him that despite him measuring near seven feet; he was a beanpole, and my so called “boyfriend” could break both his arms like toothpicks.

That shut him up, and the twenty minutes of blissful silence that followed was perhaps the most peaceful moments of my short career.

Clocking out of Charlie’s at just past five thirty; the stench of gasoline and oil on me was riper than an oil tanker. I could probably use a shower, but I’d promised Billy a conversation, and I didn’t need to smell good to talk.

I pulled on my leather jacket, thankful the lingering scent of my perfume at least partially masked the scent of chemicals, then made my way out to Billy.

He sat there waiting; engine off, but keys in the ignition, ready to leave on my say so.

I opened the side door and climbed into the passenger seat, not minding too much that I’d probably leave grease stains on his seats.

“Sorry I’m late. Charlie said I couldn’t finish till I stripped the break pedals.” I apologised, slamming the door shut behind me.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not in a hurry.” Billy shrugged, turning the engine over, before starting up the car and pulling away.

——————————————————-

Twenty minutes had passed and me and Billy hadn’t said so much as a word to each other, and I was beginning to wonder if his plan was just to drive in circles around Hawkins until I had no choice but to forgive him.

Thank God for radio; though I had to admit the rather sexually suggestive lyrics of Black Leather did little to put my mind at ease.

I pulled out my cigarettes and sparked up, cranking open the window a crack, because even though Billy’s car stunk of smoke and he probably wouldn’t care; I could use the air.

Inhaling a breath, before holding it for a sec, then letting out a stream of smoke; I kept my eyes on my window, not wanting to check if he was watching me or not.

“So does this little road trip have a destination, or...” I began, finally breaking the silence, because it was damn clear he had no intention to.

“Patience...” Tutted Billy; a smile stretching across white teeth as he kept his eyes firmly fixed on the road.

“All will be revealed soon enough.” He teased with a far too eager smile; his stick hand leaving the shift to reach across to my bare thigh, giving it the slightest squeeze.

“You know; Billy, if this is some kind of trick so you can drag me off to the woods and have your way with me, you have another thing coming.” I threatened, though I still decided to ignore his hand on my thigh; the warm weight almost reassuring against my skin.

“Relax sweetheart...” He purred; blue eyes meeting mine in the rear view mirror as his fingers began massaging circles on my thigh.

“If I wanted to have my way with you; I would’ve jumped you in the parking lot.” He continued to tease with a wide smile; his fingers slipping further up my thigh with very clear intent.

I acted on instinct, bringing my still smouldering cigarette down to his hand and pressing the end into his skin.

“Shit!” He hissed, whipping his hand away from thigh and shaking it in the air.

I grinned as he inspected the fresh burn; a pretty pink against his sun kissed skin.

“What the fuck was that for?” He asked, looking between me and the burn as if he couldn’t quite believe I’d caused it.

“I said no hands.” I stated; giving him a wicked smirk, because he wasn’t the only one who could play dirty.

To my surprise; he shot me back a dry grin, hand resettling on the steering wheel.

“Promises, promises...” He muttered; one side of his grin quirking up higher than the other, before he revved the engine, kicking it up another couple of gears in a loud display of dominance.

————————————

Contrary to Billy’s little mind games in the car; he did have a destination in mind, slowing to a stop in front of a humble looking two story.

He put the car in park and turned off the engine, making it clear we’d arrived.

“Where are we?” I asked, taking in the elongated porch and whitewash exterior, whilst Billy sparked up a cigarette.

“My house.” He stated, taking a drag of his cigarette before getting out of the car.

All my nerves suddenly jumped me at once, because why the hell was Billy bringing me to his house? What the fuck was his endgame here?

The implication didn’t seem to phase him as he casually swung his door shut, making his way towards the front of his house.

I followed suit, climbing out of the car, because no way he could just drop something like that on me, then expect me to be fine with it.

“Yeah; I can see that. Why are we here, Billy?” I asked, incredulousness clear in my voice as I refused to leave my safe space by the car.

“I told you I wanted us to go somewhere and talk...” He explained casually, taking his keys from his jacket pocket and unlocking the door.

“So here we are.” He said, swinging the door open with theatrical finesse, and I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes, because of course; he’d find this funny.

Still; he waited patiently for me on the porch, staring expectantly at me until I eventually relented, slamming closed his car door and marching over to him.

“Ladies first...” He teased, and I could hear the smirk in his voice as I crossed the threshold, taking in the inside of his house for the first time.

“Nice place...” I complimented as I shoved off my jacket, and I meant it; whoever Billy’s parents were, they clearly had decent interior decorating skills.

“You serious?” Billy asked incredulously as he took of his own jacket, slamming the front door with the heel of his boot.

“Yeah... “ I nodded, taking in the myriad of pastel blues, and was that sea shells?

“Very kitschy.”

“Isn’t that another word for tacky?” He asked, crossing the room to toss both our shed jackets onto the couch.

“No; more like quirky.” I disagreed, letting my fingers linger on the freshly painted fireplace.

“I like it.” I admitted, watching as Billy made a beeline for what must’ve been the kitchen.

“Well; someone has to.” He muttered, making his way to the fridge and opening the door to look inside.

“Can I get you a beer?” He asked, already routing through the contents for the drink in question.

“I thought we were meant to be talking; not drinking?” I drawled, leaning against the doorway, because although I liked Billy’s house; we were alone, and I didn’t trust him quite that much.

Billy just shrugged, beer in hand as he slammed the fridge door.

“Can’t we do both?” He asked, making his way across the kitchen towards me, and even despite his offer; there was still only one beer in his hand.

“Okay then; talk.” I stated, as he popped the cap off with his thumb, taking a long swig of the beer; a thin bead escaping down his chin and along his neck.

“Okay then...” He began, pausing to catch the drop with his thumb and then sucking it into his mouth with an obscene pop; and did he really have to be so damn provocative all the time?

“I’m sorry.” He apologised, settling opposite me in the doorframe with his beer in hand, and maybe he really was.

He did look pretty cut up at the autoshop, and maybe I’d been a little harsh on him.

“I acted like a dick and that was wrong. Is there something I can do to make forgive me?” He added with a sly smirk, and all my sympathies died along with his second chance.

“Wow...” I almost laughed, because I honestly couldn’t believe I was beginning to feel sympathy for Billy Hargrove..

“You really are a dick.” I stated, pushing up from the doorframe and heading straight for the front door, because I’d already learned more than enough from this situation.

“Come on, Lola! I apologised.” He whined as I made my way to the couch, already pulling on my jacket.

“And that suddenly makes everything so much better.” I clipped, staring daggers at the man who kept playing me so easily.

“Well; what the hell do you want me to say? I can’t control what people say about us!” He argued, already following me into the living room with that stupid wronged expression on his face.

I laughed dryly, because of course; he’d try to play the blame game.

Billy Hargrove could do no wrong. Billy Hargrove was a verified angel and I had no right to toss around accusations like that.

“You know what; Billy. I have been dealing with rumours about my sex life long before you showed up, and I will continue to deal with them long after you’re gone.” I stated, pulling on my jacket, because I was leaving; just let him try and stop me.

“If it’s not Tina and Ally claiming I’ve been fucking Harrington since the eighth grade; it’s Tommy and Carol saying I’m a dyke.” I continued to rant, untucking my hair from my jacket as I made my way to the front door.

“Lola; come on...” Billy whined, following behind me as I attempted to leave.

“No; Billy!” I yelled, spinning to face him, because just once I’d like to finish what I was saying without him interrupting me.

“I’m fucking sick and tired of you and everybody else thinking you know me, when you really fucking don’t.” I drilled; my eyes boring holes into Billy’s skull and rendering him speechless for once.

I took the opportunity to try and leave, opening the latch on the door and pulling it open.

“Lola; please...” Billy whined, reaching over my head to block the door from opening.

“Billy; let me go...” I demanded; having had it up to here with him using force to get what he wanted with me.

“Lola; come on...” He continued to plead; his voice a soft contrast to his firm grip on the door.

“Billy; I swear to God, if you don’t let go of this door right now, I’ll...” I began to threaten; patience already run out.

“You’ll what? Throw another hissy fit?” He snapped; clearly having abandoned the pleading tactic in favour of something a little more solid.

“Threaten to choke me with my own entrails?” He continued; and I just crossed my arms across my chest, my posture telling him exactly how effective his new approach was.

“You’re an asshole.” I snarled, hating this prick more than ever, because he really thought I wouldn’t do it; that I was all bark and no bite.

“Oh; I’m the asshole? I’m the asshole?” He snorted incredulously, eyes near comically wide in indignation.

“I’m the one who apologised, yet I’m still the asshole; tell me how that works?” He retorted; his posture turning tenser by the second.

“That wasn’t even a proper apology!” I bit back; honestly in disbelief that he could make out he was the wronged party in all this.

“Oh; you want a proper apology?! Well; where do I start?! Let me see...” He ridiculed, stepping back so he could lean against the coffee table pondering dramatically in mock thought.

“Billy...” I sighed, rubbing my forehead, because this was really getting out of control; and since when had this turned into a shouting match?

“No, no, no. I’ll give you your damn apology.” Billy spat, already having chosen his hill to die on and had begun building trebuchets whilst we spoke.

“I’m sorry everyone at school thinks I slept with you...” He began, sounding the furthest thing from it as he stared me down with outraged blue eyes.

“Billy...” I tried to calm him, knowing that the more he spoke; the tighter he’d get wound, and I really didn’t want to be in the blast zone when he exploded.

“No. I’m sorry that Carol and Tina and Tommy H and whoever the fuck else are complete and total dicks...” He ranted, and I had to agree that one was true; not that I was going to say it to him mid-rant.

“Billy; please...” I petitioned once again, trying to stop this battle from turning into an all out war zone.

“Oh wait; I’ve got it! I’m sorry that Steve jackass Harrington is too much of a pussy and hasn’t manned up and fucked you yet...” He spat; venom colouring every word.

“Billy, stop.” I warned; he’d really gone too far this time, and I wasn’t sure I could continue to stand here whilst he dragged me backwards over hot coals.

“So please tell me, Lola, because I’m not exactly sure which one of these I’m meant to be sorry f...”

#stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things2 #stranger things fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #strangerthingsfanfiction #strangerthingsfanfic #original character #stranger things oc #strangerthings oc #jim hopper daughter #hopper daughter #Billy Hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction

15 notes · View notes

doux-ciel · 5 years

Text

Sanctuary

A/N: Hello my lovely angels ✨👼🏻🏹 I’m back with a little one shot, it’s not too dramatic lol at least not as dramatic as I would make it. I’m just trying to write stories that make me smile. And I hope this story makes you smile too!!

Tagged: @youngdumbxlit @cvlms @jess---writes @jadeswritinggarden @bambimattel @requiemdelune @writing-under-the-stars @bzrtales @viviscreams @thewriterkatie @erinisawriter @seraphilth @godxblooded

*let me know if you want to be added or removed*

*Im going to have a link to my post in which it asks if you want to be tagged in my WIP’S*

If so click here -> ✨✨✨

Moving her glasses to the side Sumi Turner rubs her eyelids slowly; suppressing a yawn. Hearing the heart monitor beeping softly behind her. Turning her head over to the patient currently laying the bed. Sumi’s eyes scan him, looking at his chest rise and fall. Smiling to herself she places her hand over her heart. Admiring her work, knowing that one more person will live another day makes her job worth it. Untangling her legs from the chair she places her limbs onto the white granite floors. Sumi walks out the room, having been there all night she knew she had to give herself a break. Her feet leading her to the front desk, after telling on of the nurses to give her any updates on her patient, she feels someone tapping her shoulder. As she turns her body around she is met with one of her co-workers, Kirby.

Kirby holding a drink carrier in her hands, examines the young surgeon with her one eyebrow raised she asks, “Did you spend the night here again?”

Holding her tongue Sumi honestly didn’t want to answer but she could tell there was no lying to Kirby. She already knew she could see the puffiness under eyes and the handprint on her face from the sleeping in that very uncomfortable chair for half the night. Sumi’s mind went to something else, Kirby’s attitude. It was different today; Sumi was confused as to why Kirby was in her face all of a sudden. Not even 7 hours earlier they got into a heated discussion and it didn’t end pretty. Sighing, Sumi rests her body on the desk her back digging into a clipboard. “Yeah I wanted to make sure my patient was ok throughout the night.”

Reaching behind her she moved the wooden clipboard away from her aching back. Looking at the drink carrier in Kirby’s hand Sumi’s nose recognizes her favorite coffee. Yes it came from the crappy hospital cafeteria but still, after a long shift it felt like liquid gold in her body. Swallowing her lips she glances up at Kirby’s face pointing to the cup holder. “I really need some of that”

Handing Sumi a cup of the 2 coffees that sit in the holder Kirby chuckles, “Well it's actually for you, it’s a peace offering from last night.”

“You mean because you?”

Kirby puts up her free hand, silencing Sumi. “Let’s not get into that right now”

Accepting the offer Sumi grabs the cup, taking a sip.

It felt like liquid gold. Being present in the moment, feeling the heat of the hot beverage going into her body instantly brings her peace. Humming to herself Sumi grins a bit, her eyes meet Kirby’s who was staring at her. “Thanks anyway...I really appreciate this”

Kirby’s gives Sumi a nod with her eyes closed. “Your welcome”

After a bit of uncomfortable silence Kirby starts the basic conversation of adults, asking about kids. Which Sumi absolutely despises, “How’s Peyton doing?”

She was rolling her eyes inside her mind, she hated it when people try and make a more awkward situation more awkward. Setting the cup of coffee on the countertop of the desk, she cracks her knuckles. “With my mom....she honestly makes me wish I didn’t have a kid”

“Sumi!!”

Wincing at Kirby’s voice going up a few octaves, she could feel that anger she had just 7 hours ago rising back up. Looking around the hallway she sees a family member of a patient walking down the hall. “What?! Your not with her when we go home, she’s only 8 but she is a terror.”

Kirby eyes brown like pools of honey give Sumi a concerning look. “Well your going home right? You need to rest.”

“I was wanting to maybe sleep in the on call room and just-“

“No!! Sumi I get it you love your job but you have a family you have to see...and not just a couple days out the week”

“Kirby I need to be here for my patient, he needs me”

“Your family needs you more” she argues.

Not that Sumi wanted to admit it but she knows Kirby was right. Unlike her mother she wanted to actually be present in her daughter's life. “Your right....I think Peyton should be at school by now so the house will be quiet, maybe I can stop by 580 Street.”

Kirby, who was not familiar with Sumi discussing her personal life is taken aback by her announcement. “580 Street?”

“It’s a house I used to live in” Sumi answered.

“Why-“

Not even 3 seconds later they both hear a flatline dial and a loud beeping noise occurs throughout the hallway. A bunch of nurses rush to the room where Sumi’s patient who just had surgery was laying.

“He’s down!!”

“Sumi we need you in here!!”

“Starting compressions!!”

Not thinking twice Sumi’s legs were starting to run to the small 32 sq. foot space when she feels that same soft hand grab her shoulder. “Sumi I got this....now go!”

Leaving the hospital Sumi heads down the road, past the sav-n mart and the piggly wiggly. Looking around fairly fast moving town in the middle of nowhere she feels happy to be seeing the sun rise. Rolling down her window she feels the somewhat warm air now prickle at her skin.

Stopping by the store she grabs a fruit basket. As she was in the parking lot eating some crappy Burger King hash browns she had gotten prior to coming here she looks in the back at the basket.

It looks tacky

Throwing her hash brown cup in the bag she promptly returns the dreadful fruit basket and instead gets a candle from the home section.

580 street is where she was headed and she wanted to make sure the family that was moving in knew her well. She wanted to make a good first impression.

20 minutes pass and she is now turning into the driveway of 580 street, she sees the red door she has grown to love.

Sumi seeing the new family move in, greets the mother and her children. As she was looking around the house, she made sure everything was clean and put in their correct position just as she had left it.

Going upstairs she looks in all of bedrooms, first she goes to the one on the left. The smallest bedroom out of the three, not seeing much but a suitcase, a bed, a dresser and a mirror in the room. She goes on to the next room, the second biggest room in the house. There was 2 sets of bunk beds, a dresser, and a toy box. Something on one of the beds caught Sumi’s eyes.

A teddy bear.

A teddy bear that looked familiar, she used to have one just like it when she was a kid. The one she left when she they left their old life. Grabbing the bear she looks at the button eyes and feels the faux fur on its exterior.

A voice interrupts her thoughts, “Is something wrong?” Jumping out of fear Sumi meets the face of the woman who would be staying here for the next 2-21/2 years.

Catching her breath, Sumi replies while placing the bear back on the bed. “No....nothing wrong just remembering old memories when my family first moved into this house, how grateful we were.”

The mother holding her infant daughter gives Sumi a hug. “Now your making me and my kids grateful.”

They hear a thump coming from downstairs, and a tiny squeal from one of the children. Trina pinches the bridge of her nose, walking out into the hallway she yells down below. “Sierra what did I tell you about running in here?!”

The child replies, “We just got here momma you haven’t told me anything”

“You watch your mouth, you hear?” Frustrated, Trina grips the stair beam; her knuckles turning red. She rolls her eyes and turns to Sumi handing her the baby. “Can you take her for a minute?”

Sumi reaches out and grabs the sleeping infant from her, cradling the young child in her arms. Just then a thought quickly came to Sumi about the extra room downstairs. As Sumi sees Trina quickly walking down the stairs She calls out to her, “Also can you leave the room downstairs open...I’m leaving that for a guest who will be staying here with you.”

“Someone’s staying here with us?”

“She’s staying only for a little bit, until I find something more permanent.”

“Who is she?”

“She goes by Mama bear.”

Flashback

The sound of rain

Sumi remembers the sound of the soft patter of the rain on the window.

Mama Bear hates it when you get too close, she fears you could fall in the glass.

Nobody knew her real name so everyone just called her Mama Bear.

She took care of 15 children all from the age of 3 months-12 years old in what we call a back alley nursery.

We were the children of the mothers who were prostitutes.

Our mothers might not have regular 9-5 jobs like the rest of the world but they work hard, if not harder than them.

And Mama Bear was the one who took care of us when they were out doing god knows what with god knows who.

All I know was, she was all we had.

If not for her we would all probably be in the system.

We stayed in a small 500 sq. foot apartment which smelled of piss mixed with household cleaner.

She bathed us, fed us, sometimes if she had time she would even teach us, whether that be spelling or writing. But most of the time she was the only one looking after all of us.

Being at the tender age of 9 I was over being stuck in the house with 15 other kids for most of the day when I could be outside playing.

But I knew we didn’t live in a safe neighborhood, we didn’t live where you could just run around and play outside.

When I would come home from school I would be embarrassed to walk down “Easy Street” where Mama bear lived. Where everyone knew you only lived here unless you were in a gang or you were a street walker.

Momma told me one time that even taking out the trash is dangerous, you could get mugged right then and there.

Momma, her real name is Odette Turner. She always would tell me Odette means wealth, she never knew why her mom named her that because she was anything but wealthy right now. Trying to raise 4 kids, my siblings and I have never experienced anything but poverty.

She always says she’s going to quit every 2 years or if she gets pregnant again, but she never does. She has been working the streets for more than 10 years.

When I was small I remember momma having a regular job, she worked as a receptionist at a local law firm. When the business failed and she lost her job, we were living on the streets for a while. One of her old friends from childhood Junie wanted her to come work at her club.

She worked as a stripper for the first 4 years of my life, then she had my sister Evelyn soon after she started. 2 years had passed and momma had another job and a pimp that came with it.

Prostitution was something I thought you did when you wanted to meet new friends but momma told me it wasn’t anything like that.

Fantome was his name and he was a scary man. Everyone knew not cross him or else no one would ever hear from you again.

Although he was a well feared individual he had his moments. He gave us shelter when we needed it, he would give us food when we were hungry and sometimes he would even get us toys. Although he was nice to us he wouldn’t get along with momma. Him and momma would argue a lot, when he was mad he would take her money and she would have to go back on the street to get some of it back.

One day when we were out at the market, I was holding Evelyn’s hand waiting by the flowers. Momma and her pregnant belly was furiously arguing with the store owner as to why she couldn’t get some apples for free since they fell on the floor. While Evelyn was crying I spotted a bear on the street, a brown dirty teddy bear.

I knew I shouldn’t have left my sister alone to fend for herself but it was just a few seconds. While I looked back and forth seeing if anybody was watching me, I let go of Evelyn’s hand and shot out in the street, grabbing the teddy bear I smiled to myself as I felt it’s button eyes and soft exterior. Maybe this would make my sister feel better. Maybe I can get her to stop crying.

I bumped into a heavyset older lady when I was on my way back to the market.

“Now you know it’s not nice to take toys that aren’t yours”

I bow my head ashamed that I had gotten caught, my arms extend out to give the bear back to the mysterious woman. My voice was hushed. “I’m sorry...was this yours?”

“No it isn’t mine, but it is one of my children’s, She threw the bear out the window because she wanted more crackers...my poor Tilly doesn’t listen.”

An arm snatched me up and I instantly knew it was my mother. “Sumi what the hell are you doing out here?”

The elderly woman places her aging hands on top of my mother's arms that was gripping me tight. The woman had kind eyes, her skin tan like leather and her eyes blue like ocean. She gets snappy with my mother, “Excuse me miss but I don’t think you should be talking to her like that”

We all hear another voice coming into the already heated conversation. A man who was not far from the scene whistled. “Hey sugar, you wanna come over to my house later?”

Momma cursed through her teeth, “Not in front of my kids”

“You a red hottie?” The woman asked.

Red Hottie = Prostitute.

Momma slanted her eyes at her, “What’s it to you?”

“Where do these kids stay while your out?”

“At home where they belong”

I see the woman staring at momma and then her belly, I see her lips purse. “I see you having another....if you need someone to look after them while your working....I could-“

“I don’t need your help!!” My mother yells causing everyone’s attention onto us.

One of my moms friends rolls up to the scene looking very angry at momma, she nudges her in the shoulder which in turn pushes me back. “Girl why are you talking to mama bear like that?”

Momma’s tone gets soft, probably realizing she was being mean to the lady. “Is that who she is?”

“Yeah...that’s her, she helps take care of Sonny when I’m away. Hell she doesn’t charge that much either.”

Letting go of my hand she rubs her skull, “Shit im sorry....I didn’t-“

Mama bear gives momma a smile,“It’s ok honey...is she your oldest?”

Pushing me to the front I’m met with her again, handing her the bear. “Yeah Sumi is my angel, she’s a wild card though. You might have to keep an eye on her.”

“Oh trust me I will never let her out of my sight.”

She was telling the truth, she never let me out of her sight until I was 10.

When I turned 10 that’s when my life would change forever.

¤ ¤ ¤

“Libre comme l’air” Odette whispered to Sumi while doing her hair.

Sumi who was sitting in between her mothers legs giggled at the funny words her mother said. “What does that mean momma?”

“Free as a bird.”

Looking up into the sky Sumi sees birds passing them by, watching them soar above made her feel happy they could go wherever they wanted.

They could be free.

“Why can’t we fly like birds momma?”

“Because Sumi.....we don’t have wings.”

“But you always call me your angel and don’t angels have wings?”

“Of course angels have wings, your wings just haven’t come in yet.”

“When are they coming? I want to fly away far from here and take you, Evelyn and the twins.”

“I wish Sumi.....I wish.”

WeIl Odette got her wish.

After 5 years of staying on easy street they finally got out.

It just wasn’t the way they had planned.

¤ ¤ ¤

“Momma why do we have to go!!”

Sumi saw as her mother was running around the apartment scrambling to get our things in a bag. She pauses yelling at the child. “Because I said so Sumi now hurry up and pack your things!!”

It was the morning just before school started, Sumi was confused because she had no idea where her siblings were. Blinking her eyes 2 times Sumi comes to her senses and yells back. “Momma what about school?”

“What about it? I’ll home school you!”

“No you can’t, you dropped out in 6th grade”.

“Sumi now is not the time to get smart with me!!”

Sumi‘s eyes start to water, “Why are we leaving!!”

“You wanna know why Sumi?! You really wanna know!”

“Yes!!!”

“Because I stole money from Fantome. Now he’s on his way over here and we need to go before he comes and hurts us.”

A light bulb went off in the 10 years old head. she runs to her mother who was in the bedroom

Grabbing a handful of pampers for the twins. She tugs on her mom’s dress. “Mama Bear!! She can fix this”

Odette shakes her head, tears pouring down her face. “No she can’t Sumi, no one can fix this.”

“Why did you steal money from him? You know stealing is wrong.”

“So is not standing up for yourself. Now either you pack your shit or your not taking anything!!”

They hear whistles outside.

“Dede”

“Oh Dede”

Odette grabbed the bag and took Sumi’s hand, “We don’t have time, let’s go!!”

As they were on their way out the apartment door and into the hallway, Sumi pulls away from her mother's arm. Running back to the apartment she yells behind her. “Momma wait!! Teddy is still in there!!”

Odette screams for her daughter setting the bag down, “Sumi you come back here right now!!”

Just as Sumi was about to enter the apartment. Odette snatches her back, hiding behind the stairs that lead up to the next floor. Odette slides the bag with her foot to them, in an attempt to hide their location. Odette sweaty hands covering Sumi’s mouth, she quickly shushes her.

Two groups of men came stomping through the building, one of them knocks on the door of Odette Turner.

“I know you in there!!”

One of the men orders the other two to kick the door down.

As they kicked the door, Odette and Sumi escaped up the stairs and out the back exit door. They got in a car courtesy of Odette long time friend Buffy driving away from the place they called home for 10+ years and just like a bird they were finally free.

¤ ¤ ¤

Odette stole 30,000 from Fantome, its safe to say the family of 5 were probably never going back home again. They moved a couple of towns over, not knowing a soul they could get a fresh start on life. After 10 years of working the streets, she was finally free.

The family is now staying in a trailer home, Odette didn't want to spend all of the money on a big house or a 3 bedroom apartment knowing all she had was that money in her bank account.

After a couple of months the money was starting to run low so she came up with a reasonable solution. She started a new job at the local grocery store; after a couple of months she got promoted to manager, taking care of her 4 kids all by herself.

Sumi was angry about the move.

Angry at her mother for not giving Fantome back his money.

Angry at herself for not saying goodbye to Mama Bear.

Angry that she couldn’t grab her teddy bear when they had to leave so suddenly.

The 10 year old resented her mother and the fact that they had to start a new life, start a new life without Mama Bear.

After 2 years of attending Huntersville Middle she adjusted, making new friends, attending sleep overs, and making new memories.

Memories she would cherish forever.

By High School she was a very hot headed teen, often getting into fights and getting detention all the time.

Odette didn't know how to steer her eldest daughter in the right direction, she didn't know why she was acting out.

One particular morning which happened to be around the holiday season Sumi had headbutted a classmate, the student retailted and they got into a huge fight in which the teacher got involved and got sent to hospital. Odette had to miss the rest of the day to try and reason

with the principal. After an hour of her arguing with him, It didn’t take long for the principal to come to a decision. He didn't want to expel her so he had given her 3 days of suspension and she had lunch detention for the next 3 weeks.

The real reason why Sumi was so aggressive with her classmates was because someone found out that her mother is still out in the streets.

Odette was still a prostitute.

All of the laughter that would occur when Sumi would walk into the lunch room.

All of the snide remarks by them as she would change in the locker room.

All of them mocking her, teasing her, belittling her.

It was all too much for the 17 year old to handle, so in turn she fought anyone who say her mothers name out their mouth.

Many years of anger management and counseling made Sumi realize that violence was not the answer to everything.

It made her realize that selling her body is all her mother knows, she has been doing it for as long as she can remember.

At age 18 is when the light would start to shine through on their very gray lives.

At 18 her mother met Juno.

Juno was a local police officer, who was well known in the town and whose wife just had a baby girl.

Nobody knew the secret life he had.

Nobody knew instead of arresting the prostitutes on his late night shift, he would sleep with them.

One of them being Odette.

Odette was nothing like the 18-24 year olds who would just wear a skimpy top and try to blow you for $100. She knew what she was doing and lord knows she did it well.

Being 36 years old she was well experienced in what it takes to get your money's worth of a man.

Juno was crazy for Odette and Odette felt the same way, but when days would pass. Weeknights would go by of them staying in a crappy motel room. Odette getting on her knees and him washing up afterwards because his wife needs him got stale pretty quick.

She needed more from him.

She craved more from him.

She got pregnant by him.

She blackmailed him into getting them out the trailer and into a 3 bedroom house.

It worked.

"Isn't this house wonderful?" Odette exclaimed as she put the key through the red door.

"Momma you know your wrong for lying to the man like that." Sumi sighed while walking into their new home. Her brother and sisters rushed passed her quickly running up the stairs to choose which bedroom they want.

She was pregnant but got an abortion, her exact words were. "I'm not having a white man's baby"

So she lied and said she lost the baby but she needed the house for her kids to have a stable environment to grow up in.

He let her have the house, he took care of all the bills and explained to her to not tell a soul what he had done.

She obliged and we never saw him again.

Sumi thought she would follow in her mother's footsteps and become a street walker like she was. But she knew better, she knew her sisters were looking up to her and she’d be damned if all her family was, was a bunch of people fucking for money to get something to eat.

She decided she wanted to make something of herself, she wanted to become someone that contributed to society.

She attended college and after many, many, many hard years she became a Cardiac Surgeon. And she couldn't see herself doing anything else.

She knew this was her calling.

Buying a decent sized apartment for her mother and siblings she knew that was the right thing.

580 street was on its last leg and it wasn’t safe for her mother to stay their anymore.

Sumi starting the remodeling on the house meets a contractor named Esai.

Esai was the best and worst thing to ever happen to Sumi Turner.

After dating for 1 year & 8 months, the house was finished and so was the relationship.

Sumi was a workaholic, always seeing patients, scrubbing in on surgeries, even spending the night at work. Rumors spread quickly around town and it was revealed that Esai was sleeping around with other women. When Esai found out that she knew about the other women, he knew he had to get in her good graces. Sumi knew she would never find a man like Esai, plus she felt he was sincere about the adultery.

Instead of ending the relationship she took him back.

He kept his word, 2 more years would pass when the couple got married stayed in the house with the red door. Although things looked good on the outside of the house it was anything but pretty on the inside.

After marriage counseling, talking to their local pastor, they even went on a couples retreat to Greece. They decided to go their separate ways, Sumi stayed in the house while Esai left and went to live back home with his old roommate.

Sumi wasn’t fond of kids, of course growing up she was around them constantly but by no means was she ready to be a mom. But life knows how to throw curve balls, unexpectedly Sumi became pregnant. She knew Esai had always wanted kids and she knew he would want to be in their child's life. So the now exes were bound to see each other for the years to come.

When their daughter Peyton was born Sumi thought she couldn’t love anybody or anything more than her. She knew it would be hard taking care of a newborn with her just starting her medical career but she knew she had it in her.

Mama bear taught her to take care of the people she loved, so she did just that.

Moving back in with Odette wasn’t the plan but she knew, she needed help. After her maternity leave ran out and Sumi was back to work and Odette was a full-time grandma, showing Peyton the love and attention that her actual children had never received.

After many months of staying in the 3 bedroom apartment, Sumi needed a change.

A change of space for Peyton and Sumi.

Of course she could go back to 580 Street but that house didn’t feel like home.

So she wanted to make a new one.

Moving into a small 2 bedroom one-story house Sumi and Peyton lived well.

The house with the red door sat empty for 3,485 days until one day Sumi had a thought.

A thought that would change her overall look on life for the better.

580 street became a sanctuary for women with children who didn’t have a home.

Sumi thought becoming a surgeon was her destiny, But helping other women who didn’t have anything, was more rewarding. Seeing how her mother struggled for years to provide a stable home for them really pushed Sumi to be that light in the darkness. To make that walk way from poverty to middle class living.

She needed to do this not only for the families she meets; but for herself as well.

End of Flashback

¤ ¤ ¤

Peyton, Sumi’s daughter was in the back seat of the car waiting for her mother to come out the bank making a withdrawal.

The May weather was very humid but not scorching hot like June or July, grabbing her Ipad Peyton begins to play a game.

Sumi emerges from the building, money in her hand and her mind clear on one thing.

Getting Mama bear back home with her.

Sumi recognizes her old neighborhood, it has changed a lot since she left, some of the stores that she had gone to as a child disappeared. Her old elementary school got tore down, even Mama bears apartment building looked abandoned. Parking on the side of the street Sumi looks into the windows of the old apartment, seeing nothing but the light in the hallway.

Her attention moves towards the back seat where her daughter sat, sleeping. She didn’t tell her where they were going, she just announced they were going on a girls trip just the two of them and they were to meet a special friend along the way.

After a few minutes of waking Peyton up and grabbing their bags, they both walk into the building where Sumi stayed all those years ago. Reaching the front door Sumi takes in a breath, she doesn’t know if she’s even here, if she’s dead, she didn’t know anything. Putting one foot in front of the other, her hand gripping Peyton’s she knocks on the door.

No Answer.

She tries again.

Still no answer.

Peyton starts to whine about how scared she was, Sumi clicks her tongue, placing her hand on the door knob and turning it open.

The door opened.

The light shining from the hallway reveals an old frail woman, her skin had lost its color, her hair was dirty and tangled, her eyes are still blue like the ocean. She was in the kitchen eating some crackers, pleading with Sumi, “Please don’t take me away, I will listen and clean up after I finish please let me live here….my children might come back.”

“Mama bear?”

Peyton was very afraid of the dark and not having any lights on really bothered the 8 year old child. Leaving her mother’s side she feels across the wall searching for a light switch and when she finds, she flicks it on.

Mama bear frantically runs towards to child, not to scold her but to turn the lights back off, she then retreats back to her crackers, taking little bites of the salty food. “No lights….if they see they will know someone’s in here”

As Mama bear ran Peyton caught a whiff of her body odor, she stands back by Sumi whispering. “Mom she smells”

Sumi who couldn’t believe what she was seeing, she of course wanted to hug Mama bear so bad, but she knew it was too early for that. She quickly embraced Peyton in a hug patting her bum laughing at her daughter’s comment. “Shh...I know.”

As the mother and daughter got settled into the very dark apartment, they decide to light some candles throughout the house. Sumi knew the power was still on in the building so that meant the heat and water was on as well. They both decided to give her a hot bath, Peyton was in charge of washing her hair while Sumi was in charge of washing her body. While they were waiting for the water to fill up the claw foot tub Peyton and her two high puffs start to brag about her mother to Mama bear. “Mom knows how to make the perfect bath! She can do other cool things as well, like make my hair pretty for picture day and she makes really good grilled cheese.”

Mama bear shows the little teeth she had left to the child, observing her face, she touches her cheek feeling the soft skin of Peyton's face. “And who are you?”

“I’m Peyton”

“Peyton, your not one of children”

“No” Peyton replies shaking her head.

Shutting off the water from the tub Sumi Places her hand in checking the temperature making sure it's not too hot, but also not too cold. Satisfied with the temperature she walks over to Mama bear kneeling in front of her. “Mama bear….it’s me Sumi”

Giving Sumi a blank look she starts to take off her clothes.

Sumi not wanting to believe she didn’t recognize her squeezes her hands, her manicured fingernails digging into her palm. Turning her attention over at Peyton it seems as though she didn’t have the shampoo bottle in her hand, Sumi tells her to fetch a bottle out the bag in the living room and then they will get started.

Sumi while helping her with her pants, bends down grabbing her foot and pulling it out the leg of the pants asks again, this time emotion evident in her voice. “Mama you really don’t remember me?”

Mama bears hand lands on Sumi’s back it had two meanings, one for balancing herself to not fall and two for comfort. Lifting her other foot out she replies, “Sumi you think I’d forget that beautiful face of yours?”

As they were walking to the bath water she questions Sumi, “Why didn’t you visit?”

Sumi was afraid she would ask that question but she knew it was bound to come up. She had rehearsed it so many times in her head as to how she was going to answer. But nothing just seemed right, she answered honestfully, “I was busy”

Mama bear settles into the water, “Too busy to come see mama?”

Looking behind her Sumi checks to see if Peyton was nearby, not seeing anything she turns back around. Letting out a sigh, her eyes flutter as she thinks about her answer. “You knew how dangerous it was for me to come back.” Thinking about way they left when she was 10 years old, how Fantome said he would go to the ends of the earth to find us. Some say he got locked up, others say he’s still on the streets and a sprinkle of people say he cleaned up, got out the game and got a real career. Nobody knew the truth but Sumi didn’t want to take that risk of being here long to run into him. Mainly for the well being of Peyton.

As Sumi got the wash cloth ready she dipped it in the water, taking it out and placing some soap on the cloth. Lifting up her arms Sumi starts to scrub away all the dirt and dead skin off of Mama bears armpits. Mama bear quietly states. “It shouldn’t matter…..I clothed you, I bathed you, I hugged you when you needed it, I took care of you like you were my own. Your still my child Sumi, although my mind is leaving me these days. One thing I’ll never forget is how all of my children impacted my life, you all made me feel whole. But no one came to visit….no one came to see how I was doing, if I was ok.”

Hearing that made Sumi wish she had came sooner, to check up on her, even a letter would have made her day. But nothing, for 12 years Sumi not once thought she would ever come here, but for Mama bear she would do anything. Continuing to wash her up Sumi’s lips slowly started trembling and her nose was starting to run, sniffling while holding tears back she cries out, “Mama I came back for you….I came back to take you-”

Peyton’s feet come running up to tub, bottle in hand she steps closer to Mama Bear, “I can start on her hair now mom!”

Turning her face over to the wall Sumi uses her arm to wipe her face. Both of the adults chuckle as the child pours some shampoo into her hands, she starts to work the shampoo in her hair. Seeing it foam up excites the young girl, she giggles as she molds Mama bears hair into a mohawk. Sumi smiles and continues to wash her up, thinking about how life would’ve been like if she never left.

Would have she became a surgeon?

Would she have Peyton?

Would her mother still be alive?

A hand placed on top of Sumi’s breaks her thoughts, looking down she sees a very bony wrist knowing it was Mama bear’s she felt safe.

Their eyes meet and she takes Sumi’s hand bringing it up to her sunken in cheeks. “My Sumi….a mama herself”

¤ ¤ ¤

As Sumi and Peyton slept on one of the couches, Sumi’s mind couldn’t stop racing and she thinks back to when they had just arrived in town. Stopping by the old market where Odette used to argue with the owner daily. Still the same but of course the owner died years ago so one of his daughters had taken over. Sumi was getting some essentials for Peyton and herself, also for Mama Bear in case she can’t take care of herself. As she got to the register the daughter started talking about Momma bear and what has happened over the past 12 years. “Her son took her to a nursing home after last thanksgiving, even though she started to lose her mental faculties little by little bit she was still going strong, raising all those women’s kid. CPS raided the place and took all the children away from her. Of course the city wants to tear down the property and make some new apartments. Of course her son was on board, and is still trying to get her to leave the place but she keeps going back every time.”

An unsettling feeling set in the pit of Sumi’s stomach but she didn’t know why, ringing up the total the Indian woman repeated. “That will be $26.68.”

¤ ¤ ¤

It was early morning; 6:45 a.m. to be exact, Sumi was sitting by the window looking out into the sky, watching it change colors as the day moves forwards.The suns starting to peek out in between the buildings. She has always loved to wake up early and experience the earth right as the moon falls and the sun rises again. Hearing her daughters snores tickled the mother, She swore she was raised by bears with a snore that loud. Knowing today was Sunday and its Esai’s week to pick up Peyton, Sumi knows he’s going to be upset. Her ex husband was an amazing father, never a day late to pick Peyton up, always going to her school events, never complaining about how hard it is to take care of her knowing he has very little income.

He was the father Sumi wanted for Peyton. But Sumi often times thought about the way she would treat her daughter, not giving her cuddles at night when she was scared, missing out on field trips when she’d be at work. Being a parent is hard, but being a mother is even harder.

Knowing no one was awake Sumi needed to speak out loud, turning her head away from the window and facing the living room of the 500 sq. foot apartment.

“Will I be able to take care of my child? When I didn’t have a good example myself?”

Sumi sees Mama bear walk out the back room, “It’s ok, you will get the hang of it.”

Rubbing the back of her neck Sumi responds with deep sorrow. “I think it’s too late.”

Mama bears eyes squinted as her eyebrows furrow.

Defeat was not a contender in her house.

She slowly walks over to Sumi bringing Sumi’s face into her hands; her voice was scratchy but Sumi could still understand what she was saying, “It’s never too late, look at your mom she redeemed herself.”

“Can I redeem myself Mama? Am I doing the right thing?”

Mama bear takes a seat on the loveseat nearby, patting next to her Sumi then follows popping a squat. “I remember when I first started my nursery I asked the same thing...am I doing the right thing? Some moms would sell their children, some moms would take them on the street with them. Some moms would never come back. I said dear god I don’t know what I’m doing. Or if I’m teaching these children the right things but the thing about motherhood is, you don’t what is the right and wrong thing to do. But now as I look at you, I know I did the right thing. I’m happy to see you become a mother, to see you try and fail and teach her the right things…I’m grateful for you Sumi.”

A loud bang on the door startles the 3 females as they were having a quiet morning in the apartment. Peyton woke up in a panic and ran to her mother when the pounding kept occurring.

They hear a voice yelling on the other side of the door. It sounds manly, like Mama Bears son.

“Mom open the door I know you're in there!!”

Then another voice.

“You need to evacuate the building ma’am”

The first voice again, this time Sumi can tell he’s enraged. Although Sumi never knew she had actual children she knew it wouldn't be long before they came bursting through the door.

“Mom just come out so I can take you to a safe place.”

Sumi goes to open the door when a smaller hand grips hers, not letting go. Sumi sees Peyton and those big hazel eyes looking back at her. Crust in her eyes, her hair has flatten out but the child was determined to not let her mother’s hand go. She pulled with all her might forcing Sumi to step away from the door.

“Mommy I don’t want her to go!”

Ignoring her daughter cries she shakes Peyton off and turns the knob allowing them access.

“Mom!!”

“Mommy no!!”

As Sumi stepped back taking a look at the son, she realized he looked very familiar, he must have observed her face too because he was just as shocked.

“Fantome?”

He looked better than before, looked like he has been off drugs for a while. Having on an appropriate outfit for the weather he walked passed her, his only concern at this point was his mother. “I don’t go by that anymore….my name is Nero I don't know why your here but you need to leave so I can take my mother and leave this god awful place.”

Sumi scoffs “This god awful place? Really?”

The building manager nudges him, “Nero take her and lets go”

Sumi quickly places her hand around Nero’s exposed arm stopping him from leading Mama Bear out the door. “No!! Not yet...let me tell you something this place was my safe haven. This was the place where I knew someone else in this crazy ass world cared about me. This is where I knew when I was home, I still feel at home here. This tiny 500 sq foot apartment was the best thing that ever happened to me. Now my daughter got to experience a night here and as you can see she loves Mama Bear like she’s been here all her life.”

Nero clears his throat staring directly at Sumi, he wears a cold expression while getting his arm out of her grip. “Are you done?”

Although so badly Sumi wanted to just grab Peyton and Mama Bear and run she knew what was best for her, she knew mama bear needed to be wherever her son placed her, if that be a nursing home then so be it. She just wanted to make sure she was safe.

Before she walks out Mama Bear whispers to Nero, Nero who didn’t expect the request let her have one last look around the place, she has called home for more than 20 years.

As she was slowly walking around the vicinity she walked around as though the apartment was more than 500 sq. feet. walking over to the same spot over and over. A part of Mama bear didn’t want to let this place go, she didn’t want to let her nursery die out. She also knew she couldn’t keep living like this, like there was still children living here with her.

She needed to let that dream die out as well.

As she heads back to the front of the apartment where every waited for her to come back. Mama Bear sees Peyton who was crying like somebody had died, Mama Bears’ own eyes starting to get glassy as she holds back tears.

“Peyton you're my last child...my lucky number 16, take care of your mom for me as I have for her, make sure she feels loved. Your mom was one of the bravest out of all my children. She used to help me with the kids when she got older. She became my guardian angel, she made me fall in love with you just as I did with her those many years ago.”

“Mama bear…” Peyton ran to hug her one last time.

Mama bear rests her head on top Peyton curly mane. “Shhh child, don’t cry….You’ll see me again.”

Now it's Sumi’s turn, after all of these years she has gotten the goodbye she has always wanted. Hugging Mama bear so tight she cried in her arms as she wailed out. “This is harder than the first time I left.”

This was not how it was supposed to go.

Mama bear was supposed to come live at 580 street.

Sumi was supposed to help take care of her.

They were supposed to be back together again.

Mama bear smooths out Sumi’s hair, kissing her on the forehead she replies, “I know I know but it’s gonna be ok”

All the laughter, all the cries, all the love that was shown through this place showed. The crayon markings on the wall added character to the rather dreary and run down apartment. To Sumi it was her childhood.

This was her sanctuary.

¤ ¤ ¤

After a couple of months have passed it was nearing the end of fall and winter was soon to come. The family that was currently staying at 580 Street were hosting a dinner party and of course Sumi with her family were in attendance. As they set the food out on the table and everyone got in their preferred seats a ring of the doorbell filled the house.

Sumi who just took a bite of her fish looks over at Peyton who was sitting by her mother Odette. “Peyton get the door please”

Peyton gives her mom a nod, hopping out her seat she quickly gets the door.

“Mom!!” Peyton yells out to Sumi.

Everyone’s chatter went quiet as Sumi looked around, nervous as to what her daughter was yelling about. She rose up from her seat at the table. While turning the corner to the entryway she clears her throat before seeing him.

“Nero?”

Sumi found out after Momma bear got put into the senior home that Nero AKA Fantome had actually got his life on the right track, quit pimping out girls, quit drugs, made a new path for himself. He went to school, got a degree and was now making enough money to support himself and support the family he was raising with his longtime wife whom he met when in school.

Nero who was bundled up in a coat, scarf and hat gave them a sheepish grin, “She said she couldn’t go another day without seeing you...she refused to go back unless I brought her here.”

As he moved out the way, they saw her. A smile plastered on both Peyton and Sumi’s face as Peyton ran to her almost knocking her over.

“Mama bear!!”

“Mama Bear!!”

Mama bear embraces Peyton while waving at Sumi. “Hey sugar!!”

Inviting them inside Sumi showed Mama Bear around the house, they even invited her to stay over dinner. Of course Odette and Nero talked, they had a very emotional reunion but they came to an understanding that he is only here for his mother. Also Evelyn and the twins don’t remember Mama bear as much as Sumi does but they have heard the wonderful stories Sumi has told about her over the years. As they were all around the table eating Mama bear wanted to make a toast. Getting everyone’s attention wasn't that hard, Looking across at Sumi she begins to speak. “Sumi, I provided a sanctuary for you and my other children to stay in and now you provide the same thing for other women looking for a safe haven, I raised you right...Sumi thank you for becoming a mom, I was so happy to hold your daughter. I hope god won’t let me forget this moment.” After dinner was over and hugs were exchanged Sumi was walking Mama bear to the car when she stopped all of a sudden. “Sumi?”

Sumi who had no coat on was freezing, her body shivering as she leans into Mama bear, trying to get some body warmth. “Yes?” “My name is Ramona.”

Sumi let out a breath, a smile appeared on her face while she looked up into the sky thinking about all the years Mama Bear has taken care of her, taken care of her neighborhood.

She thought of Ramona which meant, ‘Protecting Hands’

It fit Mama Bear perfectly.

Nero opens the door for his mother to get inside the car, once she’s in he closes the door but not before taking off his own coat and placing it onto Sumi’s back.

“Thank you.” He states while looking out into the distance not once placing his eyes on Sumi.

Sumi looks up at the 6’6 male as she wraps the coat around her body. “For what?”

“Your the only one of the 15 children that has ever came back for her….to love her like she loved all of you.”

19 notes · View notes

elvendara · 5 years

Text

April Challenge 2019 Day 9

Answered this ask:

Hello! First Anon here. It's been a while. Anyway, I'm loving your Heart Road works. I am looking forward to your Lillie (did I spell it right?) and Jumin pairing moments. They're actually cute, imho. 😆 Also, Yoosung's birthday is coming up. How do you think Saeran would celebrate it with him? 😊 Always take good care of yourself! 😊

Hello my lovely First Anon! Sorry it took so long to answer your ask, but I wanted to save it for my April Challenge! I think next year I’ll do it in March to coincide with Yoosung’s birthday as opposed to Zen’s! LOL It makes me so happy that you’re enjoying Heart Road. I’m having fun writing it, even though it’s going slower than I would wish. I am trying to take care of myself, but you know how that goes! Sometimes it just doesn’t happen. Anyway, I hope you like what I’ve written =D

Order a mint swirl macchiato espresso slow drip at your favorite coffee shop. I adore you - Saeran

Yoosung grinned as he read the note he’d found on his nightstand. He quickly showered and dressed. Once outside his building it was difficult not to outright run to the café down the street. People watched him as he sped through the crowd, but he was too excited to care. He tossed out “I’m sorry’s and excuse me’s.” half hazardly as he bumped into everyone in his way.

He made it to the coffee shop in no time but was crestfallen when he saw the line. He waited impatiently until he made it to the front. Leaning over the counter eagerly he made his order.

“I’ll have a mint swirl macchiato espresso slow drip, the name is Yoosung!”

The girl at the register was taken aback at the excitement, but she smiled wide when he said his name. “Oh, it’s you. Of course, right away, it’s already been paid for.” She nodded and Yoosung’s heart fluttered. He pulled out the note Saeran had left for him and read it again. They had been together for almost two years now and the man could still make his blood heat up. This birthday gift had been unexpected, but a treasure hunt was proving to be fun and exciting.

He waited, attempting to watch the barista make his concoction but there was too much in the way for him to be able to see.

“Mint swirl macchiato for Yoosung.” She called out and Yoosung sprang for the cup before it hit the counter. The girl laughed and gave him a wink. “Hold on.” She stopped him before he could fully turn around. “This is yours too.” She placed a plate with a warm banana nut muffin on it, sliding it towards him. “Happy birthday.” She whispered.

“Thank you.” Yoosung breathed, taking the muffin with a smile. He turned the paper cup in his hand and read the writing on it:

Sit down and enjoy your muffin. When you’re done, head to the bench we like to sit at when we eat ice cream. You’re smile brings me joy – Saeran

Sit and eat? With a sigh Yoosung did just that, although he was eager to go to the next step. The muffin was good and the mint in the coffee somehow reminded him of Saeran. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was. He knew Saeran didn’t feel that he was much of a catch, but Yoosung couldn’t disagree more. The man was incredible. Intelligent, kind, honest, loyal, not to mention incredibly attractive. Yoosung blushed thinking about him that way. Not that there weren’t any negative aspects to the man. He was still moody, distant, too honest, and sometimes just plain exasperating! But they made it work.

Before he knew it, he was done and after disposing of his trash, he ran out the door and down the sidewalk to the park two blocks down. He passed the ice cream shop they frequented, and he glanced inside briefly, just to make sure his lover wasn’t in there watching. No such luck. With a sigh, he made his way across the street and into the park. It was a beautiful March day and he closed his eyes, enjoying the breeze, a chill still in the air, Spring not quite having arrived.

He spotted the bench right away. It was on the grass, facing the small pond where they liked to sit and watch the children play, or the sun set. There were many memories associated with that bench. Saeran had told him many secrets sitting there, looking out towards the water. Yoosung understood the setting made him feel at ease and all he needed to do was sit and listen.

He sat down, memories of the last two years stirring. It had been difficult to get through Saeran’s tough exterior, but once in, it would take a lot to dislodge yourself from his life, not that he wanted to. Saeran looked and acted hard, but he was really a mushy marshmallow inside and Yoosung loved teasing him about it. There was a small commotion from a crowd that was gathering from around the park, they all appeared to be looking and pointing upwards. Yoosung swung his head and stared at the sky as a plane flew what seemed dangerously close to the ground. Behind it, a large banner fluttered. Against a black background, deep purple words read:

Follow the path that leads to our hiding spot. You’re sexy - Saeran

Yoosung’s eyes widened and he laughed out loud. Their hiding spot had been an area where they had first made love in public. His hand flew to his mouth and he was thankful no one was looking at him to see how crimson he had become. He stood slowly and weaved his way through the crowd. People were muttering, wondering out loud who that message was for and what it could possibly mean.

He made his way down the sidewalk until he came to a dense area where the trees grew so close, they created a canopy overhead. He pushed through some bushed to a small clearing, barely large enough for two people. The tree branches covered most of area overhead, but the leaves were not full enough to make it dark. On the grass there was a picnic basket and a note, held on top by a rock that had been painted with a face. One eye was a brilliant mint green, the other was winking. A tongue stuck out of the slash of a mouth and atop was a chaotic array of orange red. Yoosung shook his head and picked up the rock to get to the note.

Take the basket with you and ask the annoying one to let you sit in his favorite baby. Love to kiss you - Saeran

Saeyoung’s! Next step was Saeyoung’s place. He took off again, annoyed that he would have to take the bus to Saeyoung’s and it would take at least an hour to get there. He was still excited, but not too happy about having to shlep across town. While he walked automatically to the bus stop, his head down, he heard a familiar honk. His head snapped up and he saw MC waving at him, a huge grin on her face.

“Get in birthday boy! Your chariot awaits!” she laughed, and he obliged instantly.

“How’s it been so far?” she asked as she drove off.

He hugged the basket to himself as he told her about his adventure so far.

“I’m so glad! Saeran was afraid you would think it was silly.”

“Silly? I love it! Do you know how many more stops there are?” He asked anxiously.

“I have no idea! He wouldn’t tell us.” She shrugged.

They talked about the twins as they made their way to Saeyoung and MC’s house. Saeran might not like it, but he was a lot like his brother, and Yoosung was happy to see this side of him. It was a side he rarely cultivated, but Yoosung loved. He might groan about doing ‘romantic’ things, but he enjoyed them as much as Yoosung did.

They made it to the house in no time, Yoosung not even bothered with the dangerously high speeds MC employed, it had apparently rubbed off on her from Saeyoung. Once they were parked, he got out and went to find Saeyoung.

Bursting into his office he accosted the red-head. “I need to sit in your favorite baby!” he commanded.

“Whoah whoah! Hello Yoosung. Happy Birthday. Nice to see you. Nice to see you too Saeryoung. How are you? I’m fine, and you? Oh I’m good, thank you for asking.” He rambled.

Yoosung rolled his eyes but took a step away from the man.

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry. Hello Saeyoung.” he sighed.

“I’m just kidding!” Saeyoung jumped up and gave him a bear hug, which was painful as he crushed the picnic basket between them. “Come on!” he put his arm around the younger man’s shoulders and walked them back to the garage.

“Are you enjoying yourself? I tried to give Saeran some suggestions, but he didn’t seem to want to take any of them! Humph! No matter, I’m sure MC will love to fly with me to the space station, did you know they’re selling tickets for the first commercial flight?” his eyes twinkled with joy and Yoosung could only shake his head.

“Here we go, my very first baby!” he wiped an imaginary tear from his eye, then winked at Yoosung as he left him alone with the car. Yoosung opened the door of the bright candy apple red sports call, he wasn’t sure what kind it was, cars weren’t his thing, but it sure was beautiful. He sat on the soft leather seat and it seemed to caress his body. The key was in the ignition but he was sure he shouldn’t actually turn it on. On the passenger seat was a bottle of wine, the same kind they had shared on their first date. Tears sprang to Yoosung’s eyes. The man was going to kill him with all this romance!

A ribbon was tied around the bottle neck with a small card attached to it, his name written in gold calligraphy and he was sure Saeran had done it himself. He turned it over where more gold words appeared:

Turn the car on and follow the directions on the GPS. Dive into the basket if you get hungry. I Love you so much - Saeran

He gasped, had Saeyoung approved this? He didn’t have much experience driving, but it wasn’t as if he didn’t know how to. But what if he got into an accident? He must have approved it though, otherwise, why would the key already be there? He set the basket next to the wine and with a trembling hand, he turned the key. The car roared into life and the garage door opened. He glanced at the rearview mirror and both MC and Saeyoung stood, arm in arm, waving at him. Without another thought, he shot out of the garage, the wind ruffling his hair as the convertible almost seemed to slide across the road. He wasn’t even sure the tires were touching the road, it was so smooth.

The GPS turned on and a female voice began giving him commands. A playlist popped up and began to play. It didn’t take long for Yoosung to realize it was one of his favorite playlists. The drive was far into the countryside and he was beginning to worry that it wasn’t right. It took almost two hours for him to finally pull into a long and winding driveway. The house that appeared around the bend, that had been hidden by trees was small and quaint. He could see a lake behind it, the setting sun reflected of the small waves.

The house was made out of wood, painted a dark grey and weatherworn. The porch was large and wrapped around the left side. The porch lights were on and it looked like a fire was flickering inside. His heart skipped a beat as he got out of the car, grabbing the basket and wine. He climbed the short set of stairs to the porch and approached the door. On it was tacked an envelope, with his name, this time in Purple, written across it. He pulled the tack out, took the envelope, then pressed the tack back in. He opened it and pulled out a thick piece of paper:

Come in my love - Saeran

He slid the card back in the envelope and opened the door. It appeared to be a single room with one other door in sight. There was a small kitchen to the right, a kitchen table with four chairs next to it and to his left was a sofa facing a fireplace that was already lit and a full sized bed against the left wall. As he watched, Saeran stood from his place in front of the roaring fire and turned to face him.

“Happy birthday babe.” He smiled and opened his arms. Yoosung dropped the basket and wine on the table and ran to the man. He almost tackled him, tears of happiness falling down his face, unable to articulate anything as his throat felt like it was full of cotton and he couldn’t swallow enough to clear it. “Did you like your gift?”

Yoosung nodded, sniffling like an idiot. When he pulled away to look into Saeran’s beautiful mint green eyes, he saw they were wet as well, but his smile was brilliant. He leaned in and kissed him softly, gently, then more passionately. Yoosung moaned into the kiss, his arms wrapped around him.

Saeran pulled away reluctantly and shook his head.

“No, none of that, not yet, but don’t worry, I planned for dessert too.” He grinned. Yoosung’s eyebrows shot up and he flushed crimson.

“What’s in there?” he asked.

“Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough.” Saeran chuckled, running his fingers through Yoosung’s hair and pulling on it enough to bring his head back around to he could plant a kiss, a lick, a bite on his neck.

#My posts #Yooran #Yoosung #Saeran #Yoosung birthday #April ask #one of two #mysme #mystic messenger #love #it's in the air

13 notes · View notes

probably-writing-x · 5 years

Text

Fleeting Moments (i)

Warnings : Mentions of anxiety, depression and mental illness.

~~~

Her fingers hung over strings searching for any rhythm that she could find inside of her body. There was nothing. No joy, no sadness, no excitement. And even now, there was no pain. It was all just nothing.

'Waiting for as long as you need'.

The words rung in her head like a stuck record. A record she heard but couldn't listen to. Couldn't hold with her and compress into the pocketed comfort of a memory.

So here she was. An empty guitar and an empty vessel of the human she once was...

~~~Three Months Prior~~~

Summer. Sun, sea and absolutely no school.

It was all just bittersweet for Ivy. Summer in this family meant working enough to make money to keep helping her parents and find more for all of Leo's school supplies. Her eight year old brother meant the world to her but his juvenile mind couldn't understand any concept of money problems. So she acted as though they weren't there. And every year, without fail, she would find the money to buy all of the new shoes and backpacks and pencils that had suddenly become popular in his class.

"Ivy, honey, are you nearly ready?" Her father's aging voice called out from downstairs, not aging in years but aging more so in stress.

Ivy hadn't realised that the blurring condensation as residue from her shower had now dissipated from the mirror in front of her. So she just stood there, bare skin only shielded from her own burning eyes by the cotton towel tucked firmly under her arms.

"I'll be down in a minute Dad," She responded, all emotion seeming to have fallen down the drain with the water that stained her skin.

Within irrelevant minutes, Ivy had swapped the towel for a comfortable shield of skinny black jeans and a simple long-sleeved grey t-shirt. Stay as unseen as possible.

The house felt like it was separate from the serenity of her bedroom. There was usually an uncomfortable level of noise, a forgotten TV screen left on the morning news, the human alarm of her mother calling for everything to be on some unknown time schedule and of course, Leo's clattering toys.

"Morning Ivy," Her mum says absentmindedly, "I need you to take Leo to his friend's house today,"

"Mum I've got-" She starts, already knowing the words are futile.

"I know you have work at nine but you'll just have to be ten minutes late and stay ten minutes later," She cuts her daughter off, placing a set of house keys into her hand and spinning to continue with her million other tasks of the morning.

Ivy answers in silence, tugging on a pair of battered shoes she had worn more than enough and finding a suitable jacket for her brother.

"Leo come on," She calls, switching off the television to find some other way of helping, "Ready to go?"

Leo nods with no dispute and slips into his jacket and shoes calmly, making sure he grabbed his bag of random toys that would soon become the best possible imagination starters for him and whichever friend he would be with today.

He's already by the door by the time Ivy has grabbed her phone and his feet have touched ground with outside of this noise.

"Bye mum, bye dad," She raises her voice slightly to try to match the bustling building. She's met with a harsh silence.

The door closes behind her.

Leo's hand clung to her own and it felt like in some way that would boil some sort of happiness in her. And it always seemed to, just slightly.

"So where's your big adventure to today?" She asks, inquisitively hoping she would know the directions to wherever the house would be.

"Jake's," He responds, jumping up with excitement that seemed to burst from his feet, "We're going to be pirates,"

"Pirates?" She exclaims, lifting him up rest on her hip with his legs swinging either side of her, "And who's treasure will you be stealing?"

"No Ivy, we don't steal treasure!" He shakes his head, "We help people."

She chuckles slightly as they turn the corner, luckily to the street where Jake and his joyous family lived.

Leo wriggles down to the floor and runs ahead to where he can already see the house of his friend. It pained Ivy to see it, their pristine house with a tall gate and two shining cars on the drive. When Jake came home, he wouldn't have to bath in lukewarm water or eat averagely cooked food from his sister who had to replace the parents that seemed to work through the day and night. He would have it all. And Ivy could feel another part of her becoming lost into the abyss of never being good enough.

"Oh hello Ivy!" Jake's mother beams from the door, her son already chasing Leo round the front yard.

"Hey, Mrs Smith," Ivy responds politely, "Thank you so much for having him today,"

"No of course, we love having Leo round," She grins, a smile that Ivy couldn't find it in her to dislike.

"I don't know who will be picking him up but-"

"Don't worry about it, he can stay as long as he needs. Whatever works for you and your parents," Mrs Smith smiles with a sickening reassurance. They all knew Leo wasn't as privileged as the other children, that perhaps the Falter family had to work more than the average. But the exaggerated sympathy always made her blood boil. It was unnecessary and always hid how they really felt.

"Thanks," Ivy nods, hugging Leo goodbye quickly before making the quickest exit her feet could manage.

She knew she was already late to work and part of her couldn't find the point to care. The turning roads in front of her and the tired bags carrying underneath her pale eyes made all of it just another internal struggle. To muster a smile for a paying customer and accept tips with a grateful response.

Her thoughts were cut short.

"Falter!" The familiar voice rang out across the street, "Skipping work today?"

Dylan jogged across to meet her, his steps falling into a comforting rhythm beside hers.

"Just running a bit late," Ivy nods in response.

"Right, you look like you're in a real hurry," He chuckles, mocking her with jovial intent.

The brunette teen rolls her eyes, "Shut it Peters,"

They relax into a silence momentarily. He breaks it once again.

"So, how are things?" He smiles before pausing instantly, "Nope I didn't ask that, forget I asked that,"

Ivy smiles, eyes focused on the floor. Dylan had found her skipping school a while ago and had stuck around ever since. Skipping was realistically a broad term, she had taken an extra shift at work. Now it was summer and he had happened to bump into her even when she thought she was free from the horrendous leash of school-aged idiots.

"You don't need to act like you're worried Dylan," Ivy shakes her head, arms falling into a guarded crossed formation in front of her chest.

"No...no," Dylan stops, jumping in front of her to block her from her next step, "I just want to know why. You can tell me you know? You can trust me," His tanned hand rests upon the fabric of her arm and there's nothing but honesty surrounding the dark pools of his blue eyes.

Ivy stops, she wished she could confide in him. That perhaps part of her could be that girl that could truly say how she felt. But the other half of her told her she was already past that stage.

"Not now," The words sliced out of her mouth and fell like daggers into the boy in front of her.

"Alright," He backs away with raised hands like he had to surrender to her icy exterior, "But you know where I am." He states simply, eyes longingly holding onto her own for one last second until he was gone; away with the solemn wind.

She was silently screaming for it to bring him back. Maybe that her hand could lace with his and for that moment she could tell him everything. The real truth. The burning, twisted, devastating hell inside of her that only Ivy Falter knew about.

Work was mundane. A task that had to be done and perhaps provided a distraction for a sufficient amount of ticking hours.

"What will it be today?" Ivy forged a polite tone through her chapping lips, directed at the overly smartly dressed woman standing in front of her.

"Soy latte, one shot of caramel," The woman states simply, glancing up and down at the seventeen year old serving her, "And perhaps a smile with the service,"

"I would if I had a reason," Ivy muttered under her breath, hoping that perhaps it would spark some anger inside of her. Nothing.

"Forget the drink," The woman scoffs, heels clicking on tiled floor as she strutted out of the building just as she had entered.

"Seriously Ivy? What was it this time?" Ivy's boss, Neil, raises his brows, a red fluster sparking in his cheeks as he busied himself with yet another order.

Ivy doesn't respond at first. She starts to question what other people see. In her fatigued blue eyes, in her sun-kissed skin and in her messy brown hair. Are they seeing her as the bitch that stereotypes any rich person they see? Or perhaps as the barista nobody wants to be served by?

"Forget it, just take this order," Neil gestures in the direction of the till before he is off to hand over drinks to waiting customers.

"What will it be today?" Ivy recites, fingers hanging over the keys of the register in front of her.

"Ooh... what would you recommend Miss Falter?" A harshly familiar voice sounds into Ivy's ears. The sound of Lily Cook's words rung sharply in the café, sickening her stomach.

"What do you want Lily?" Ivy sliced the words through a clenched jaw.

She hated her. A bully was the only way to describe Lily. A twisted, evil bitch of a bully. She somehow managed to make every day a living hell for Ivy and the worst thing was, she knew a secret Ivy wanted nobody to know. Not yet.

Lily chuckled to herself cold-heartedly, "I saw you with your little brother earlier. Admiring the houses were we?"

Lily knew she was pretty. She was of a mixture of Asian descent with perfect skin, piercing eyes and long hair that never appeared out of place. There was no denying that she was utterly beautiful.

Ivy couldn't help the forced anger that boiled inside her from that Lily's last comment. Not one part of her could deal with this for a second longer than necessary. The next words... Well, she might just regret them.

"Go fuck yourself!" Ivy stated with no emotion, none was left.

No, she didn't regret it. It felt like some tiny relief on the clenching hold she had on herself.

"Ivy, take your break. Now," Neil says, remaining calm to avoid losing another customer.

As Ivy threw her apron to the side and began to walk away from that place, she could already hear her boss trying to excuse her actions. They didn't require an excuse. They were necessary.

Fresh air became burning to her fiery skin. It clung to her lips, unable to truly reach her throat. Why should she feel like this? Shouldn't she feel empowered, strong, victorious? No. Instead, panic crawled into her chest. It twisted it's sickening claws into her lungs and deprived them of life. Her heart tried to keep up, fluttering painfully into a fearful beat in her body. She was sinking.

"Hey, hey, look at me," There were Dylan's eyes again, "Inhale, exhale alright?" She could tell he was nodding but his face was blurring.

She was slumping into him subconsciously. There was skin on the top of her hand and fabric on her palm. She could feel his beating heart in a relaxing rhythm. Hers began to match his.

"You're alright," He sighs in a breath he had been holding and holds her head to his chest as though he was telling himself rather than her.

Words still defied her human power. They hung silently in the air between herself and Dylan. So they walked. Silently and as though nothing had ever happened. She knew not of the destination but an air of comfort surrounded her.

"So you wanna talk about it?" His voice rang in her ears that had started to pound with rushing blood much less than they had before.

"What so you can tell the full story about you being a knight in shining armour?" She scoffs, eyes finding any way to avoid his own.

He chuckles, head hung low as his elbows rested on his knees in a relaxed posture. Ivy sat with crossed arms and her back sternly stiff.

"No, more like for all of the reporters waiting to talk to me," He rolls his eyes, hand resting on top of her knee, "Come on, I'm serious,"

She shifts herself away, "What do you want to know? I get panic attacks sometimes,"

"It's happened before, right? "

"Unfortunately."

"And your parents don't know?"

She shakes her head, "It's none of your business,"

"Okay. Well, I know more than you think, which I think you know, really," He pauses, his relaxed tone instantly switching to one of pure severity, "And I know you're hurting."

Ivy stops. This didn't feel normal. He may have known much more about her, but she didn't know anything about him. He didn't go to her school, though he was the same age as her. She knew nothing of his family, where he lived or even if he lived in this town.

It was only then that she broke back into reality, to see those oddly known eyes looking into hers once more, the freckles dotting his cheeks and the warmly sympathetic smile that crossed his lips.

"Who even are you?" The words fell from her mouth instinctively. She didn't want to ask. Part of her wanted to keep things the way they were, her unknown saviour.

He smirks and looks away, "I figured we'd get to this eventually," He nods, rubbing the palms of his hands together as a simple of his nervous nature, "I'm Dylan Peters," He states, being irritatingly vague.

He refused to tell more about his true self.

"What about your family?"

"I don't really have one, not anymore," He states, eyes finally meeting hers once more, "But I'm still close with my brother,"

"So where do you live now?" She questions, wanting to learn more about this boy.

He pauses for longer than she expected, "Let's get you home, just let the guy at the café know you weren't feeling well," He stands quickly and extends a hand towards her.

She stops, glancing between his hand and his eyes that were trying to avoid hers once more, "Wait I-"

"Not now Ivy, you don't want to know," He shakes his head, "Please?"

"Sure." She nods, worry now circling in her mind. What wasn't he telling her?

Their walk back to her home was silent, Dylan fell into a step alongside her and the streets were empty of any passengers.

She knew the house would be empty too. She hated those times. For when she was alone, she had time to think properly. At least when there were people around, the noise of her family could drown out the screaming thoughts in her mind.

"This is me," She gestures towards the quaint house now towered in front of them, despite his clear knowledge of this being her house.

Dylan nods, walking to the edge of the path that led to the door, "I'll see you later?"

"It seems that way," Ivy smiles lightly.

Dylan chuckles and goes to turn away. She catches his arm, she doesn't miss the feeling of the faint bumpy lines under her hold.

"Thank you."

He shakes his head, "You don't need to thank me,"

She watches as he walks away, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. It takes conscious thought to pull her gaze away from him. Something was different about him. Why did he feel so familiar?

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @bringmethehorizonandpizza @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @shamelessbookaddict @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee @darlingtholland @fanficparker

(Please let me know all of your thoughts!!!)

#Fleeting Moments #FM #Original work

13 notes · View notes

hubpostblr · 2 years

Text

Motor Trimming: Details You Need To Understand About it!!

When you adore your vehicle, you not only depend on it to get you safely to where you need to go, but you love taking it out for joy rides, long-distance road travels, and maybe even your everyday commute. But what happens when the car you used to love starts to lose its lustre, and you begin to catch its imperfections? Or do you begin to regret not getting some of the features you wanted when you purchased your new car? These are both excellent times to invest in car upgrades. Your vehicles need upholstery similar to the furniture in your house as experts and professionals offer motor trimming in Padstow. The suitable fabrics and materials provide the right environment while serving your best interest.

Types of Motor Interior Trim:

Motor trimming in Padstow offers to trim all parts of your vehicle that are more decorative than practical. Its immediate objective is to make the inside of the car into a habitable and warm environment. Examples of trim may include:

A leather steering wheel.

Door lining.

Car roof lining decorations.

Seat trim.

A sun visor mirror.

The common denominator between all of these types of upholstery is that they're beautiful in terms of chic and styles. They offer practical purposes like insulating vehicles and keeping the heat. In addition, it keeps hands from burning on the steering wheel from the sun while preventing roof damage. Though most clients seek an aesthetic appeal, getting practical advantages can bring you an edge. It will look modern and enhanced in selection once trimming is done.

The Most Common Automotive Trim Materials:

As there are so many items that qualify as internal trim, there are many fabrics used. Some of the most typical consist of:

Leather ( used in steering wheel lining, seat covers, glove compartment exteriors)

Vinyl and faux leather (Budget-friendly alternatives to leather that many producers are using)

Fabric (the lining of your car roof, felt inside cup holders, fabric rugs on the floor of your vehicle)

Suede (soft steering wheel shrouds, seat cushion exteriors)

Wood (to decorate linings and door panels)

How Are These Materials Manufactured?

Interior trim parts are extraordinarily diverse and manufactured in many different ways. Professionals will develop new ideas for trimmed components and test principles before manufacturing. This ensures that each element has a certain level of functionality and aesthetic appeal.

From there, the materials that best suit the part will be gathered and moulded into the appropriate shape. From two-shot injection moulding to variable temperature moulding, there are many different ways that small pieces are together. Once that's done, in-mould decoration will be applied, and the parts will be allowed to cool.

Trimmed parts may be installed before being sent to the dealer, but others are sold aftermarket products. Therefore, the vehicle needs to be installed to complete the process.

#motor trimming padstow

0 notes

svtnreactions · 6 years

Text

“occult” CH. 1 - BTS x reader

bts x female reader

romance / fantasy / action / etc. ??

word count: 5796 oof

plot: after, accidentally, causing quite a disaster for your family, you land yourself in the ‘twilight zone’- a home for kids with more than human abilities. you’re meant to spend your time there learning how to control your powers. however, fate has another thing in store for you and your housemates.

so this has been in the works for a while. i already have the next chapter ready if anyone likes this so far ... heads up: it’s like an odd sort of miss peregrine’s + red queen + monsters vs. aliens (LMao) mashup but with bts!!!!! literally what am i doing.

- cc

next chapter >>

Your neighborhood was illuminated by red and blue lights. The sirens cut through the quiet of the night and echoed down the streets. It was chaos. Yet, everything seemed to move in slow motion.

The pajamas you were wearing hung off your body where the fire had seared it, and in any other circumstance you’d be looking for a way to cover your exposed skin. However, your attention was on the building in front you. Your home, the place you grew up in. The firemen were hard at work, but there’s only so much you can do to stop flames that are tall enough to lick the sky.

You felt the presence of the man at your side, even before he draped the blanket over your shoulders.

“I know what you did,” He said, “I know what you’re capable of.”

It wasn’t an accusation, nor was there any trace of venom in his words, but the statement didn’t fail to send chills down your spine.

“I can help you, Y/N.”

Your mind wanders back to that night more often than you’d like. You had been traveling all day and a three hour plane ride, followed by an equally long drive, allowed you a painful amount of time to reminisce.

Things had to come crashing down at some point. That’s what you kept telling yourself, hoping you’d begin to believe it. There was no way you could’ve kept your ‘peculiarities’ a secret forever, right? Not in a world so afraid of change, so set in its’ ways.

The radio connection became staticky as the driver took you over a small bridge. As you listened to the old blues singer’s voice fade in and out, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were at fault for the poor connection.

You’d never been sure if it was a friend or foe, but one thing is for certain, electricity is a part of you. It’s pulsing through you at any and every moment, a silent reminder that you’re special, as well as dangerous beyond comprehension.

Your hands flattened out your skirt repeatedly, a nervous tick you had acquired as a young girl. The vehicle’s leather interior was cracked and curling up in places, scratching at your bare legs and making you profusely uncomfortable. You silently hoped that you would be arriving soon.

Thankfully, your prayers were answered only moments later, as the car rounded a sharp corner in the dirt road. For miles, all you’d seen was the road and the forest surrounding it. Now, a large, gawky house was jutting out of the horizon.

As the car slowed beside the house, the front door swung open and a figure descended the wooden stairs. You felt a spark ran up your arm as your anxiety heightened. Meeting the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He nodded his head and offered a soft smile. With that, you gathered as much as confidence as you could and pushed the car door open.

The boy jogged over to you. Your eyes immediately directed to his hair, which was a striking lavender color. When he slowed to a walk, he began to speak with a voice deeper than the sea and smoother than honey.

“Hey, you must be Y/N.” The boy presumed, his dimples beginning to show. “I’m Namjoon. Headmaster Lee sent me to give you a quick tour.”

“Yeah, that’s me.” You responded. “Nice to meet you, Namjoon.” You gave a weak grin. Normally, you’re a pretty enthusiastic person, someone who believes in the importance of a first impression. But a lot had changed in the past few months.

“You too.” His smiled wavered for a second, his eyes skimming around the top of your head and torso. “Okay, well, follow me.” Namjoon glanced over his shoulder at you, “There’s no need to be nervous. We’re like a family here.”

You only nodded in response, your heart clenching at the thought of your real family- your parents. Were they relieved to see you go?

As the two of you stepped into the house’s parlor, the area above you immediately caught your attention. Stairs made out of the same wood as the exterior of the house, twisted up in a square formation for at least three floors. An enormous skylight on the roof allowed the afternoon sun to pour in. The only word to fully capture the view was, truly, magical.

“Welcome to the Twilight Zone.” Namjoon said breathily. His gaze was fixed on your side profile, “Pretty nice, huh?”

“The Twilight Zone?” You quirked an eyebrow at him.

Namjoon seemed happy you had asked, turning on his heel to lead you through a narrow hallway just big enough for one person to pass through at a time. “That’s what we like to call it here. Because this place- or rather, the people in it, are surreal. Just, totally bizarre.” He explained, a touch of humor in his voice, “No ordinary person could comprehend the shit that happens in this house.”

“Good thing I’m not ordinary.” You said. Your laugh had a certain bitterness to it.

“Good thing.” Namjoon reiterated.

For some reason, you’d expected the house to be buzzing with activity. However, other than you and Namjoon, the only sign of life was the occasional passing of maids. Dressed in the stereotypical black and white uniform, they quietly milled around with brooms, dusters, and laundry in hand.

“How many kids live here?” You asked, having yet to see another person your age.

Namjoon puckered his lips thoughtfully and began to count on his fingers. “There’s seven of us.” He chuckled, gently nudging your shoulder. “Well, eight now.”

You laughed softly, keeping your eyes on the ground. His words were a reminder that you didn’t quite appreciate. You were already beyond homesick and the thought of living in this strange, unfamiliar place was making your stomach churn. “So where is everyone, then?”

“The living room, I’d imagine. Or at least some of them are.” He was motioning towards an open doorway you were slowly approaching.

Namjoon lowered his voice to a whisper. “Just, keep in mind that they don’t get to talk to girls our age very often. It’s been a pretty long time since someone like you has lived with us.” You were nodding along, though several things about his statement confused you. You waited for him to step in, then followed on his heels.

Before you could take in the scenery of the new room, you saw the boys inhabiting it. One had his back to the doorway. He was hunched over an old television set, slamming the side with his palm. “I swear to god, if this thing craps out one more time!”

“Quit it, Jin.” Another boy spoke up exhaustively. He was sprawled out on the vintage, floral print couch, his face buried in a book. His hair, which was powder pink, was significantly more attention grabbing than Namjoon’s.

Neither boy seemed to notice you and your tour guide’s presence until Namjoon cleared his throat and sidestepped to make sure you were visible. He clasped his hands together and gave a closed mouth smile. “Jimin, Jin, this is Y/N- Headmaster’s newest misfit. She just arrived.”

Their heads immediately snapped in your direction, question marks on their foreheads. The powder pink haired boy, Jimin, shifted and let go of his book. You watched the pages slowly turn until he had completely lost his place. Now it was clear to you that he wasn't on the couch at all. He was floating- above it. You shouldn’t have been so surprised, after all, this place is meant for people just as strange as you.

“This is Y/N?” Jimin immediately said with his eyes wide as saucers. Getting used to the sight of him lounging about in mid-air was proving to be rather difficult. You blew air from your nostrils, the sound showing your amusement.

“So, when Headmaster Lee said the new kid is ‘a bit unconventional’....this is what he meant?” Jin followed up. Much like Jimin, he didn’t bother to mask his stupefaction. He broke into a grin. “A girl?”

You tugged on a lock of hair that had slipped from your ponytail. The headmaster had gone on and on about the benefits of being surrounded by people with similar situations. People who you could learn and grow with, people who would understand you- god knows your parents never did. However, you still seemed to stick out like a sore thumb in this place.

There was that tingle, that spark of electricity again. It traveled up your spine, sending your entire body into shivers.

“Yes, it’s been awhile since Headmaster accepted girls here,” Namjoon kept his eyes on you, though his words were directed towards the boys. Somehow, he seemed to see through your cool exterior. “But please, Y/N is staying with us now, so make her feel welcome.”

Jin and Jimin shared a look, their eyebrows raised. Jin was the first to break away as he placed a hand on his forehead and saluted Namjoon. “Yes, drill sergeant!”

Namjoon let out a deep sigh in response, accompanying it with an eye roll. The boys’ conversation was fading off and so, you took advantage of the absence of dialogue. “So, that’s like, your power.” You uttered, motioning to Jimin with raised eyebrows.

Jimin’s face was blank for a moment before he broke out into a grin. He nodded whilst laughing, quite amused by your words. “Levitation.”

“This is pretty much the extent of it.” Jin snorted. He then lowered his voice and cupped his mouth before continuing, as if he was whispering to you, “It’s one of the less interesting powers in the house.”

“Well that’s rich coming from you. You’re like an off-brand ‘The Flash’.” Jimin shot back.

Jin’s figure blurred, and in an instant he was at Jimin’s side, slapping him on the back of the head. “Try me when you can full-on fly.”

It was then that the echo of approaching footsteps reached your ears. All at once, everyone looked in the direction of the sound. Soon enough, you came face to face with one of the maids.

“Miss Y/L/N, your bags have all been moved to your room.” She was an older woman with a voice that wavered ever so slightly when she spoke. “I’ve been instructed to escort you there. Would you please follow me?”

“Namjoon, I think you were just fired from your ‘tour guide’ position.”, Jin teased.

Ignoring his friend, your former tour guide offered you a lopsided smirk. “Well, I guess this is where we part! I’ll see you later- at dinner, probably.”

You exhaled deeply before returning a nervous grin. The worry bubbled up inside of you like a bad stomach ache. “Thank you for showing me around, Namjoon.” You framed, looking to Jimin and Jin as well, “Nice meeting you guys.”

Tentatively, you tailed the maid as she made her exit.

Calling this place a ‘bedroom’ would be pretty generous.

Sure, it was a room with a bed in it. But ‘closet’ would be much more fitting. The first thing anyone would notice was how insanely cramped it is.

A twin sized mattress was pressed against the wall in the far right corner and a dresser stood diagonal to it. Those things alone took up the majority of the room, only leaving a small pathway for you to get to and from the door.

Because the house wasn’t set up to be co-ed, there was no wing for female teenagers. The only way you were able to have a regular sized bedroom was if you shared one with the boys. And so, that’s how you landed in an unoccupied room within the maid’s quarters.

You didn’t really mind, to be honest. You hadn’t expected anything fancy when you agreed to come here- so there was no chance at you being disappointed. Actually, you were pleasantly surprised in some ways: like how comfortable your bed was, or how much room you had in the dresser drawers.

Curled up in fetal position on top of the comforter, you stared up at the little window above the dresser. The sun was setting and it sent a warm, orange light dancing across the walls. You knew that there was so many things for you to be thinking about. Your parents, your new home and its occupants- yet in that moment, your mind was completely blank.

It wasn’t until there was a knock at your door that you were pulled out of the soothing nothingness of your brain and back into reality. And when you got up and tugged it open, you were staring up at Namjoon. You were were a bit surprised, having been expecting to see a maid on the other side of the door. About an hour ago one of them had shown up to let you know that dinner was ready, but you declined. Sure, you were famished- but you were also completely exhausted, and not quite in the mood for meeting the rest of your housemates.

“Thought you might be hungry.” Namjoon deduced, holding a plate out to you with one hand.

You may have been a little too eager, accepting it without the slightest hesitation. “Thanks for thinking of me.”

He nodded, as if accepting your thanks. “Sorry it got a bit cold.” He said with a chuckle, “It was warm when I left the dining room, but there were a lot of stairs between there and here.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You shrugged it off, already piercing a chunk of chicken with your fork, “It’s my fault for not coming to dinner.”

Namjoon leaned against the door frame and the sleeve of his flannel, which had been unbuttoned, slid down to his elbow. Something like sadness was behind the smile spreading across his cheeks. Reminiscence, perhaps. “You need time to adjust.” He pieced his words together slowly, “Believe me, we’ve all been there.”

“How long have you lived here?” You asked, your curiosity piquing. Shoveling some broccoli into your mouth, you waited for his answer.

He took a moment to exhale slowly. “About 6 years now.”

You sputtered, nearly choking on your food. “6 years?” He couldn’t have been much older than 12 when he first came here.

“6 years.” Namjoon repeated, seeming quite amused by your reaction. “I’ve been here the longest out of everyone, believe it or not.” He followed up sarcastically.

Your eyebrows were raised, mouth sitting in an ‘o’ formation, “So, what’s your ability?” You asked. The question was rolling around in your head since you’d met him. There was no obvious answer, like there had been with Jimin, and you were insanely curious.

Namjoon paused before casually stating, “Aura vision.”

“And what is that exactly?” You puzzled, pouting your lips curiously.

“Well, everyone has an aura. It’s a sort of a bright, glowing outline.” He explained, “I can see them. What color they are, how bright they are.”

Something in your brain clicked. You remembered all the times today that Namjoon seemed to be looking around you, rather than at you. “What does a person’s aura say about them?” You pursued, becoming more and more intrigued.

He shrugged, “It can tell a lot about you, from your personality, to your emotions.”

“What’s my aura saying about me?” You looked down at your arm, wishing you could see what he could. What an interesting and delicate power. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t envy him.

Namjoon smiled and ruffled your hair, “That’s for another day.” He covered his mouth with a hand and yawned into it. “I should probably get to bed. We have class pretty early tomorrow.”

You agreed, trying not to show your disappointment. You cleaned the last bits of your dinner off of your plate. “See you in the morning, then?”

“I’ll be there.” And with one last wave, he stepped off in the direction of the stairs.

Once he was gone, you placed the empty dish on top of your dresser and flopped onto your bed. You were so tired, you found yourself nodding off in a matter of seconds. But, tragically, your bladder had ideas of its’ own. Rolling out of bed, you irritably made your way down the hallway to where the maid had shown you the bathroom.

As expected, your trip there was uneventful. It was on the way back, however, that a flash of movement on the stairway caught your eye. Leaning forward onto the railing, you squinted into the darkness.

Below you, a boy with a rich, honey colored head of hair, was slinking down the steps. He had the hood of his sweatshirt pulled halfway onto his head, the drawstrings knotted together, and a backpack over one shoulder.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when he caught you staring. He had stopped, rather suddenly, in his tracks and peered up at you. You were able to see his full face now, and everything about his features were utterly adorable- but his eyes told another story.

He held your gaze intensely, his expression stony as he slowly brought his hand up and pressed a finger to his lips.

You felt the static from your sweater send your flyaway hairs straight up as you pulled it over your head. According to the maid who had woken you up, it was currently seven AM. You weren’t very eager to get out of bed at first, but she had also mentioned that breakfast ends at eight thirty, and that did the trick. Within ten minutes, you were bounding down the stairs towards the dining room.

Upon entry, Jin smiled in your direction, “Good morning!” The room was rather small, which seemed to be a recurring theme in the Twilight Zone. You stepped towards one of the three open chairs, very aware of all the eyes glued to your profile. The table made for a tight fit and left just enough space to pull out your chair, which happened to be beside Namjoon.

“Good morning, everyone.” You greeted, initially directing your gaze at Jin.

“Eggs and toast for breakfast,” Namjoon motioned to the dish in front of you, which had been piled high with food, “I made you a plate. I didn’t want the boys to eat it all before you got here.”

You chuckled at this, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes I did.” He laughed, dimples deepening, “I’m serious, there wouldn’t be anything left. They’re animals.”

“He’s not wrong.” Someone piped up, giggling at himself. After glancing around, you were able to match the voice to the boy sitting directly across from you. He had a slim face and a contagious smile. He took a bite out of his toast, dropping it on the plate to extend a hand in your direction. “Hoseok.”

You accepted, his hand grasping yours firmly as he shook it up and down. “Pleased to meet you, Hoseok. I like your hair.” You said, throwing in a compliment as you didn’t really know that else to say.

“Thanks!” He seemed genuinely thrilled by your flattery, grinning as he reached up to pull at a lock of his soft pink hair, which was accented with pale blue streaks. “It can get pretty boring around here. We dye our hair to fill the time.”

“We should dye your hair, Y/N.” Jimin suggested. The neck of his turtleneck sweater was pulled up all the way to his jawline, sleeves hanging to his knuckles. He had already finished his breakfast and was leaning back onto his chair comfortably.

You pursed your lips for a moment as your contemplated the idea, “Sure, why not?”

With that, the boys had burst into conversation. Hoseok began listing off colors that would suit you, Jin cutting in to comment on how fun it’s going to be to have a girl in the house. You were silently observing their interactions, when a familiar sensation crept up inside you.

Upon instinct, you turned to meet the pair of eyes that were burning into your side, setting your fork down on the table. Your eyes met those of the only boy at the table you hadn’t properly met. You smiled softly at him, “Sorry, I don’t think I got your name yet?”

He cocked his head to the side, his gaze rather unfriendly at first glance. Almost immediately you began to feel much too seen. Your stomach turned, and you squirmed in your seat uncomfortably.

When he finally spoke, the dialogue around you came to a halt. “That’s because I didn’t give it to you.” His voice was low, a touch of- amusement, maybe?-in his otherwise inexpressive tone. Your smile was threatening to fall right off your face, having become uneasy and rather downturned.

“Oh come on, go easy on her.” Namjoon placed a hand on your shoulder, offering a feeling of security. He waved in the direction of the dark eyed boy, “This is Yoongi. Don’t mind him too much, he just likes to pick on us.”

Yoongi impaled a chunk of eggs with his fork, no longer looking at you, but Namjoon instead. You felt relief wash over you at this. “What? Am I supposed to treat her differently because she’s a girl?”

“No, you should just be nice to everyone. Girl, boy, whoever.” Hoseok opinionated with a sigh.

“Well that’s just unrealistic.” Jin jumped in, “You should’ve seen him last week when he missed breakfast,” He recalled, shaking his head as he laughed at the memory, “No one saved him any food and-”

With a bang, the kitchen door swung open. An older maid stepped out, shoulders back and chin high, and cleared her throat, “Unfortunately, it’s time for class. Please finish up your meals.”

Jin abandoned his story, groaning childishly. “But I still have so much left!” He whined, lowering his head to his plate. He then proceeded to shovel food into his mouth like his life depended on it.

Namjoon stood and pushed his chair in. He started rounding the table, clapping his hands together, “Let’s go everyone!”

“Coming, Dad.” Hoseok took one last bite of his toast before mirroring Namjoon’s actions. “Are you ready for your first class, Y/N?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. I’m not really sure what to expect.”

The last to get to his feet was Jin, who had rather impressively, had finished the remains of his breakfast. He jogged to your side, and everyone began moving down the hallway. “Well, if Taehyung and Jungkook don’t turn up soon, you should probably expect a scolding from Headmaster.” Jin predicted, many of the boys murmuring in agreement.

“I hate it when Headmaster yells..” Hoseok voiced with a sigh.

You only contemplated their words for a moment or two, trying to pay close attention as you stepped down to a lower level of the house. Namjoon briskly lead the group into a rounded out doorway to your left. As soon as everyone was inside, he slid the two wooden dividers and closed it off behind you.

Mouth slightly agape, you scanned the area. You were quite sure that all the other rooms were as small as they were to accommodate for the classroom. It was by far the biggest area in the house, that you knew of, and was decorated rather differently. Walls, floors, ceilings, and all were made of a creamy, off-white wood. The exterior was lined with bookshelves, crammed with many novels and other miscellaneous items. A gathering of desks occupied the far back, the largest of which was probably meant for an instructor. It had a stereo resting on top of it blaring a news broadcast.

“With more than 400 soldier fatalities in the past few months, the army is requesting another wave of drafts throughout-” Hoseok had made his way across the room, cutting the reporter off mid-sentence as he switched the radio off. You didn’t blame him- everyone was tired of hearing about the war now. It seemed like it would never end, bringing constant death and despair to the nation. You were staring intently at the stereo now, the newscaster’s words on repeat in your brain. For, even this isolated from society, there’s no way to escape your reality.

You spun on your heel, ripped from your thoughts at the sound of the dividers moving. “Sorry, I overslept.” A deep voice was suddenly announcing, “Jungkook didn’t even try to wake me up. So when you think about it, this was sort of his fault.” After a brief scan of the room, the owner of the voice stopped, his tone changing completely the next time he opened his mouth. “Oh. Headmaster’s not even here yet.”

“Yeah, so don't waste your excuses on us.” Jin said with a laugh.

The newcomer chuckled along sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “Where’s that kid, anyway?”

“Jungkook?” Namjoon asked, “He’s not in your guys’ room?”

“No.” The new boy furthered into the classroom, his features demanding your eyes. You watched his eyebrows furrow, hands pulling down at the sleeves of his red jumper. “He wasn't there when I woke up. I figured he went to breakfast.”

Some sort of realization had risen within Namjoon, his concern beginning to show. His eyes were wide, and his complexion even got the slightest bit paler. Namjoon shook his head, massaging his temples with his thumb and pointer. “Please don't tell me he snuck out again last night.”

At his words, a memory was immediately triggered in your mind. You remembered the boy on the stairs, his careful movements as he made his way down each step. -could that be Jungkook?

The new boy’s low voice surprised you time and time again. He replied slowly, eyes flicking around the ceiling, “He, uh.. he may have.”

“Taehyung.” Yoongi snapped, taking a step forward. He seemed to be itching to reprimand the boy, but Namjoon held up a hand dismissively.

It was rather amazing how quickly Yoongi shrunk back at this. Your eyes remained on him for another moment after he stepped back. For a second, just a second, you could’ve sworn that he looked more worried than Namjoon- but he quickly composed himself. The scared expression that you’d seen was soon a ghost.

After exhaling deeply, Namjoon was dissolving the tension in the room, just as quickly as he had created it. He slowed his speech, jaw unclenching, “Well, i guess there’s not much we can do now.” He sighed, “Headmaster will figure out where Jungkook ran off to. If he doesn’t show up on his own, that is.”

“What if Kookie’s is in trouble or something?” Jimin fretted, leaning forward in his chair.

Namjoon took a moment to think about this before replying, “I’m sure he’s fine. I mean, this has happened before.” He concluded, “Let’s focus on class now, it is Y/N’s first time, after all.”

Six faces were suddenly looking in your direction. You offered a closed mouth smile, eyes gliding over each person. You aren’t someone who likes to be the center of attention, especially not in a room full of boys you hardly know. But despite that minor detail, you made an effort to look comfortable.

“You’re Y/N?” The new boy- Taehyung, was it? -had come considerably far into the room upon entrance, and was standing a short distance away from you. He glanced around at his friends, his confused expression meeting many entertained ones. After a moment or so, his stare settled on your profile once more and stayed there.

You reminded yourself to breathe. “Sorry. I would’ve introduced myself sooner, but you all seemed to be having some sort of... crisis.” You said, pairing the sentence with a nervous laugh.

A small draft ran from the front of the room towards the back, the chill creating goosebumps on the back of your neck. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Jimin and Jin share a look, muffling their laughter in their hands. Yoongi rolled his eyes pretty severely, resting his head on his desk.

Taehyung side eyed them, a timid grin settling on his profile. “No, no, don't apologize.” He spoke a bit louder, “I just- No one told me you were, you know.” He motioned to you, looking increasingly more unsure of himself.

“Pretty?” Jin teased, just loud enough for everyone to hear. Taehyung’s cheeks became pinker at this, noticeably so.

Hoseok elbowed Jin in the ribs “A girl, you mean.” He came to Taehyung’s aid.

“Right, a girl- Headmaster failed to mention that part.” He pieced together slowly, gathering himself, “Anyways, I’m Taehyung. It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Likewise” You said, actively holding back a laugh. Sliding into the seat of the desk you had been leaning on, you turned away from him. You noted a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach, one you badly wanted to disappear.

The dividers slid open yet again- a welcomed distraction. Everyone looked, eyes full of hope, but none of them seemed all that surprised to see that it wasn't Jungkook in the doorway at all.

As the old man strode to the back of the room, your eyes followed the familiar wrinkles that decorated his aged profile. Headmaster Lee was ancient, but even you knew that he doesn't carry himself that way. He is intelligent, and in this house, at least, he is powerful.

“Headmaster-”

“Sit, Namjoon.” Headmaster waved away the purple haired boy, his eyebrows furrowed, mouth setting in a tired smile. From what you had gathered, he was a very warm, friendly man. However, something was very intimidating about him when he's serious and you could tell the boys felt this as well.

You watched Namjoon slump back into his chair, mouth closing slowly. Headmaster Lee stared at all of you, almost all at once. It was as if the air had been taken from the room. No one uttered a word for several moments- they were waiting for him to speak again, and you followed their example.

“As i'm sure you all know, Jungkook is MIA… yet again.” Headmaster Lee said, his small grin fading away. “If any of you have information on his whereabouts, please tell me now.”

Still, silence.

The man sighed, continuing with, “Very well, then. Finish your book work from last week, I expect it to be done before class is over.” His gaze met yours, “Except you, Y/N. Would you mind coming with me?”

You nodded your head mechanically, glancing back at Namjoon as you did so. The boy offered nothing back but a blank stare. “Not at all, uh, sir.”

Headmaster Lee gave the boys one more look before turning and walking back towards the door. You scrambled to your feet, trying your best to keep up with the man’s long strides.

You felt rather small in the seat across from Headmaster Lee’s desk. It was plush and lined with a soft material that was practically hugging you.

The office was plentiful with wall hangings and books and folders, which were piled high in every corner. One couldn't look at a shelf or table without finding knick knacks or newspaper clippings scattered about. It was cluttered, terribly so, but somehow that made it a bit more comfortable.

For the past few minutes, Headmaster had been scribbling on a form on his desk. Now, his eyes rested on you, sending a feeling of reminiscence coursing through you. Your mind travelled back to the day he first told you about this place. An image of him, across from you and your parents at your favorite diner came to mind.

You picked at the peeling leather booth, barely paying your waffles any mind.

The man was speaking casually with your parents, any passerby wouldn't look twice, but the four of you could practically see the heavy intensity of this situation.

“Our home, it’s for kids just like Y/N.” He explained, “She needs to learn to control her gift. You've witnessed first hand how.. dangerous she can be.”

Your mom reached down, lacing her fingers with yours reassuringly. You weren't looking at them anymore, but you felt all their eyes on you.

There was a pang of hurt in your heart at the memory. You flexed your fingers, longing for your mother’s touch.

“I must apologize, Y/N,” He finally spoke, “I wasn't able to give you the tour of the house myself.”

You shook your head slowly, offering the smallest of smiles, “No, no, that's fine. Namjoon is really nice, he helped me a lot.”

Headmaster nodded lightly, folding his hands on the desk the separated the two of you. “Good, I’m glad you're getting to know your housemates.” His face pulled into a grin, “I realize I had left a few details out here and there, so hopefully nothing came as too much of a surprise.”

“Like how I’m the only girl?” You blurted out before your mind could catch up to your mouth.

You were already on the verge of an apology when Headmaster beat you to it. He chuckled softly, “Right, like that. I can't apologize enough.”

That surprised you, if you were being completely honest. Any coldness you felt towards him was slowly, but surely, dissolving. Only nodding in response, you leaned back onto the chair.

Headmaster didn't wait for you to say anything else on the topic. “Now, has Namjoon talked to you at all about his ability?” Headmaster lowered his chin with interest.

“Aura vision.” You answered. You were curious where this was heading.

The old man nodded softly, “Right, aura vision. It's a beautiful power- but one that can't exactly be perfected. He was gifted with it, and that's as far as it goes.” You hummed in response, “However there are abilities, that require practice.”

You had already caught on. “Like mine.” You finished for him, a bitter taste appearing in your mouth.

“Precisely.” He confirmed with a melancholy smile, “You're quite the firecracker, Y/N. It's important to get yourself under control so that you return to your parents in the right condition.”

You felt hope bubble inside of you at the thought of this. But it was gone as quickly as it had came.

Namjoon’s words were echoing in the back of your mind. They were all day, actually. Only now, you truly listened to them.

He's been in the Twilight Zone for 6 years. He’s been here the longest, but who knows how long the other boys have lived here? 5 years? 4?

The truth was, you may never leave this place.

You held Headmaster Lee’s stare with great purpose- because you knew this simple fact, and so did he.

next chapter >>

80 notes · View notes