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ellecdc · 3 months

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The Winner Takes It All

poly!Marauders x reader (gender not specified)

CW: slight light angst (between reader x other students), confusion on relationship status, fluff

You didn’t really know what you had done to win the affections of the infamous Marauder boys – namely Remus, Sirius, and James – but you weren’t going to question it too deeply; you quite enjoyed their company.

Everyone knew the three boys were together: Sirius and James were never known for their subtlety, and Remus was the reluctant (but quite pleased) victim of their near constant PDA.

Somehow, you too had gotten swept up in their affections.

It wasn’t official – in the sense that you and the boys had never discussed what their flirting, pet names, cuddles, or forehead kisses meant in the grand scheme of things – but no one was ignorant to the chemistry between the four of you. The boys were so unbelievably sweet with you, and their attention felt like nothing short of worship.

James’ excessive excitement when you walked into a room left you feeling like you meant something; an overwhelming sense of belonging within his space. Sirius’ devilish flirting, compliments, and obvious ogling made you feel more beautiful than you ever thought possible. And Remus’ small gestures – whether carrying your books for you, ensuring you’ve eaten and drank enough water, and his special nicknames he seemed to save just for you - left you melted into a puddle of fondness.

And that wasn’t always taken very well by others.

Namely, Emmeline Vance.

The boys had been known to be quite…open…in their sexual encounters in the past and have, on occasion, included a fourth party in their dorm room activities. This quickly stopped when some parties felt this meant they were included in their dynamic.

Emmeline was one of them, and it appeared she wasn’t taking the news of them seemingly working to include an official fourth to their relationship very well.

This is one of the reasons you hadn’t brought up exactly what you meant to them; you were not interested in simply being the boys’ next bedmate, and a part of you was afraid that bringing things up would expose the fact that this was indeed their hope.

The other part of you knew that the boys weren’t the kind to string someone along, and that they’d have to be playing an awfully long game if that was truly their angle. But the possibility squeezed at your heart nonetheless.

Emmeline had taken to making snooty comments to you when the boys weren’t around. Lily, Marlene, Peter, and Dorcas seemed particularly bothered by it, but you did your best to ignore her.

But there was a part of you that wanted to scream at her a little bit…you weren’t even technically in a relationship with them! You’d never slept with them, you’d never even properly kissed any of them, and you certainly hadn’t made any moves to make whatever this was ‘official’.

Another part of you didn’t even want to entertain the situation. You had far more important things to concern yourself with: You were studying for your NEWTS, considering whether you wanted to head right into the workforce or explore further education, and where the hell you were going to live after graduation.

Unfortunately, Emmeline wasn’t the only one to pick up on your new-found closeness with the Marauders.

“Well, well, well…look what the lions dragged in.” Mulciber sneered from behind you as you made your way up the path from Hogsmeade. You rolled your eyes and kept your head forward; you’d been given permission from the headmaster to run to the village to purchase more potions ingredients, but apparently, so had the Slytherins.

“What? Good enough for those Gryffindor’s but not us? Where’re you running too?” Avery continued with a malicious grin when you picked up your pace.

Thankfully, you could see the Hogwarts grounds were up ahead, and Lily was there at the gates waiting for you.

“Sod off.” You threw over your shoulder, feeling slightly bolder in the presence of your friend.

You smiled warmly at the redhead as she threw her arm over your shoulder, sparing the Slytherin gits behind you a withering glare as you carried on towards the castle.

“What’s their problem now, hm?” She asked you, still glaring at the boys.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, who knows. Not happy with anyone associated with the Marauders.”

Lily snorted inelegantly. “I don’t even think they’ve bothered pranking the Slytherin’s lately.”

“Nope.” You agreed with a pop of the P. “Everyone’s got bigger problems right now.”

Lily laughed but it turned into a groan. “Yeah, speaking of: incoming.”

You followed her gaze to see Emmeline making her way towards the two of you.

“Hello Lily!” She said cheerily before her face turned stony as the considered you, “Y/N.”

You tried to refrain (somewhat unsuccessfully) from rolling your eyes as you said hello to the girl.

“Have you seen the boys around?” She asked feigning innocence, but you both knew exactly who she was on about.

Lily played dumb, though you knew that she knew very well who Emmeline was looking for. “Which boys, Vance? That covers just about half of the population at Hogwarts.” She asked coolly.

“Remmy, Siri, and Jamie. Obviously. I’m going to ask them to Hogsmeade this weekend.” She shared with a sense of finality. You did roll your eyes at this, and Lily scoffed.

“Well, my first place to look for them would be with Y/N, and seeing as they’re not here, I couldn’t tell you.” Lily spat.

Emmeline narrowed her eyes and looked between the two of you before she levelled a glare at you.

“This isn’t over. I’ll win them back.” She said plainly, and something about her tone caused you to snap.

The Slytherin’s, Emmeline, the stress of not knowing – it was all too much, and you were done.

“You know what, Emmeline?” You said in a calm tone as you looked to the sky. “You can have them.”

Lily whipped her head to look at you bewilderedly at the same time Emmeline cocked her head at you.

“I beg your pardon?” She asked as you returned your eyes to her.

“If you think you can ‘win’ them, you can have them. I don’t want something that can so easily be taken from me, anyway. But you’re competing in a game that I’m not even playing, so either take them or leave me alone because I’ve got bigger fucking problems than your stupid school-girl crush.” You were out of breath by the time you finished; your face was hot, and you were sure it was likely the colour of Lily’s hair, but you willed yourself not to cry as you stormed toward the castle.

Damn being an angry crier.

You were just so tired – this wasn’t a game to you; these were your friends, perhaps more (you certainly hoped more), and it was also your feelings. But what you said was true – nothing that can be taken from you is worth keeping, not even them.

Lily quickly caught up to you but knew better than to say anything now, giving you the chance to breathe and calm down. You both made your way to Gryffindor tower where you threw yourself haphazardly into one of the plush couches near the fireplace.

“Fuck.” You groaned as you rubbed your hand down your face.

“You okay, hun?” Lily asked as she pet your head commiseratively.

You groaned again as you let your hand fall from your head and hang dramatically off the side of the couch. “Yeah, just tired. Of everything.”

Lily hummed in sympathy. “Why don’t you relax up here? I can bring you something from the Great Hall for supper.”

You looked at your friend like she hung the moon. “You’d do that for me?”

She chuckled and pinched your cheek, “‘Course. Anything for you, gorgeous.” She winked, trying on her best Sirius Black voice to mimic what the boy has said to you many-a-times before.

They really did treasure you, didn’t they?

You sort of regretted your outburst now – you knew the boys weren’t a prize in some juvenile contest; that’s what you’d been trying to point out – but you worried that’s not the way it sounded. What would they do once they heard? And you knew they would – hear about it, that is. Would their feelings be hurt? Would they understand? Would they feel embarrassed to be spoken about in such a manner?

You didn’t have much time to think about it after Lily left, because before you knew it, said boys were crawling through the portrait hole.

“Angel!” James shouted at you as he found your form curled up against the arm of the couch. He made for you instantly, vaulting himself over the back of the couch sat opposite of you like some kind of living room gymnast and launching himself onto your couch, nearly right on top of you.

“Hi Jamie.” You said shyly as his arms wrapped around your middle and he dug his face into the crook of your neck.

“Missed you.” He said, though the sound was muffled from the new home he seemed to have made in your being.

“Lily said we’d find ya here.” Sirius said as he sat on the coffee table in front of you. You grimaced in response.

“How was your trip to Hogsmeade?” Remus redirected at your obvious discomfort, taking a place beside Sirius.

“Oh, it was alright. I found what I needed.” You answered quietly, playing with the nailbeds of your fingers. Sirius quickly gave you one of his hands to play with instead.

“We heard you gave Vance a verbal lashing.” He said as you fiddled with one of the many rings adorning his long fingers. You groaned and let your head fall back onto the couch.

“Sirius.” Remus quietly (though lovingly) chided. “Do you wanna talk about it, dove?”

And there he goes with the nicknames, and James’ cuddling and Sirius’ piercing gaze and what the hell were you even doing here?

“No.” You answered. “I don’t know.” You amended quickly.

“I hope she didn’t upset you too terribly.” James offered quietly as he moved his chin to rest on your shoulder so he could look at you. You were suddenly self-conscious of how the side of your head looked.

“No. I may have been a little out of line.” You acquiesced. Sirius scoffed dramatically.

“Please, you’ve never been unreasonable a day in your life. You should try it once in a while.”

You chuckled at the dark-haired boy. “If anyone can drive me to it, it’ll be you boys.” You tried to joke, but it came out somberly.

“I’m sorry if being with us makes things a little tricky for you, with other students.” Remus apologized.

You snorted. “I’m not sure why being friends with you guys should be such an issue for other people.”

“Friends?” James asked as he sat up a little straighter. You cocked your eyebrow as you turned to look at him.

“Well, I don’t know…We’ve never really discussed anything, I didn’t want to assume…” You trailed off as you started picking at your nailbeds again. This time, Sirius moved to his knees in front of you and took both of your hands in each of his.

“Assume. Assume it all; all of it, everything. We’re yours.” He said emphatically, punctuating each sentiment with a squeeze of your joined hands.

“If you’ll have us…” Remus corrected, and you felt something swell behind your eyes at the faint blush that appeared on his cheeks.

James seemed just as moved by Remus’ bashfulness as he leaned forward to caress the boy’s cheek. “We know we’d love to have you.” James finished for him.

You sniffled and offered them a tight smile. “I’d like that.”

Sirius deflated instantly and let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, thank gods. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you said no.”

“Die, probably.” James said seriously, surprising a laugh out of you.

“We never wanted you to feel insecure in your place with us, dovey. We’re sorry we didn’t make it clearer how much you mean to us.” Remus continued.

“It’s not that. You make me feel very…” but you trailed off timidly.

“Very…” Sirius continued with a devilish grin. You tried to hide behind your hands but he held-fast. “Don’t get shy on us now, gorgeous. How do we make you feel?”

“Cherished.” You whispered, and you watched as the mirth left his face, leaving behind only fondness.

“Oh, thank merlin.” James breathed. “I thought I’d have to up my flirting; and I don’t know if you guys know this, but I already live at 100% love always.”

“We know.” You, Sirius, and Remus answered in unison.

“Okay, Jamie. Scoot.” Sirius said as he stood. He hardly waited for James to make room before he’d picked you up and flipped you two, so he was now sitting in your spot, and you were in his lap. “My turn.” He muttered as he put his face in the crook of your neck like James had before. James didn’t seem to mind the intrusion much; his arm thrown across Sirius’ shoulders and fingers rubbing at the baby hairs on your neck.

“Y/N?” Remus asked, and your toes curled in anxiety at how serious he looked.

“Yes?”

“May I kiss you?” He asked, keeping his honey gaze locked on yours.

You felt a grin overtake your face as you nodded emphatically. His smile matched yours as he leaned forward resting his hand on your knee and pressed his lips gently to yours. You felt so incredibly complete – Sirius’ arms wrapped securely around you, James gently massaging your neck and shoulders, and Remus’ lips on yours.

Both you and Remus seemed reluctant to separate, but you did. He pressed one last kiss to your lips before he leaned back into his seat on the coffee table.

“Does this mean we get to do that all of the time now?!” James asked excitedly, causing the three of you to chuckle. You didn’t much mind the sound of that.

“There was no competition.” Sirius said quietly from his place in your neck. You turned your head which forced him from your neck as you looked at him inquisitively.

“There was never any competition. Between you and Emmeline.” He clarified, silver irises seeming to bore into your soul. “Between you and anyone.”

You felt heat rush to your cheeks and ducked your head.

“And even if there was,” James continued, “you’d have won by a landslide.”

Read the companion piece: The Loser Has To Fall

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #self insert #reader insert #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x reader #poly marauders x you #poly marauders x reader #marauders imagine #marauder fanfiction #marauders ficlet #baby blurb #marauders baby blurb #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #ellecdc fics

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marksbear · 1 year

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Could I request a Vance Hopper x Male reader (boyfriends)? Plays a few months after Vance got kidnapped. The reader gets kidnapped too (and gives the grabber a really hard time because he doesn’t back down) and Vance ghost uses the chance to properly say goodbye to his boyfriend and helps him to get out of there. A lot of angst and heartbreak (the readers usually a tough guy too and doesn’t show much emotion but completely breaks down in the basement after Vance called him the first time) the grabber could show him the spot where he killed Vance to mock him idk make it hurt 💔💔💔I hope you have a great day and thank you!! <3

Sorry this took a while I took a lil break! But I really hope you enjoy this and that I wrote everything you asked for!

And I write this in a way so you won’t get much spoilers.

Warning:Angst! Mentions a toxic home, evil stepdad, kidnapping,trauma, grieving, sad and emotionless reader, blood, stabbing, survivor guilt.

GHOST VANCE HOPPER X MALE READER.

Y/n was inside his room laying on the floor as the TV played. Y/n's eyes bore into the screen not noticing a muffled shout from downstairs. The TV screen played Y/n favorite show ever.

Sadly it was hard for Y/n to even pay attention to the show. Y/n kept glancing around his room looking at the pictures hanging around of his boyfriend.

Every time Y/n caught himself looking at the pictures he’ll whip his head around as his mind runs wild about his boyfriends disappearance.

“Vance… We we’re supposed to runaway with each other. Get out of this stupid town together.”

Y/n thought to himself knowing deep down inside that Vance would never leave him on purpose. Y/n knew it was a deeper meaning as to why his boyfriend disappeared. But sadly it’s been months and most people stopped caring for the missing teen. It wasn’t like many people was searching for Vance anyway.

The door swings open hitting the wall on impact.

“Y/n! Your mom has been calling your name for the past three minutes! Go down there before she starts getting on my ass!” Y/n’s step dad says staring at Y/n.

“There’s something wrong kid? All the sudden you can’t hear?” His step dad says with a mug on his face.

Y/n rolls his eyes and stands up from the floor walking up to his TV turning it off. “And good lord take your boyfriends pictures off the wall son he left you.” Once those words came out of his mouth Y/n shoved his stepdad out of his room before slamming the door shut.

“You brat!”

His stepfather calls out slamming his hand on the door before walking away.

After making sure his stepdad was completely away Y/n opens his door walking downstairs to see what his mother needs.

When Y/n made it to the bottom of the staircase his mom was already waiting for him.

“Glad to see your dad listens to me.”

“He’s not my dad… And I’m sorry for not hearing you earlier.” Y/n responds back crossing his arms as his mom rolls her eyes.

“I need you to go to the store. Get some groceries and then get you and your sister some snacks to eat. And after that go to the corner store and get me and your dad some cigarettes.” She says before grabbing Y/n’s arm using the pin in her other hand writing the list of groceries on him.

After she was done she gave Y/n the money and extra just in case.

Y/n grumbles complaints under his breath as he takes the money and go back up stairs to change.

After changing Y/n goes back downstairs and walk to the front door about to leave.

“And please Y/n, come straight home. No looking for Vance or clues for his disappearance. I know you miss him honey we both do. It’s just that he’s gone now Y/n. He ran away…” She says before giving Y/n a sympathetic look.

Y/n listens to her words before leaving shutting the door behind him.

Digging inside his pockets Y/n gets the Walkman out and puts on the headphones before putting it back inside his pockets.

TIMESKIP

Y/n was finally halfway to the store walking on the sidewalk as he blasted music through his headphones. Y/n eyes were glued to the floor as he walked not bothering to look up.

Suddenly tapped into Y/n's foot.

Stopping in his tracks Y/n looked to see what touched him. It was a can and a few other things behind it. Y/n looked up seeing a man in white face paint on the sidewalk trying to but clumsily picking up his things.

Usually Y/n would have just avoided helping. Like going to a different direction or just out right to ignore them completely. But this time Y/n couldn't just fake his way out of this.

Y/n crouched down picking up the items that were scattered around the sidewalk. The stranger puts the fallen nearby items inside his bag before walking up to the teen.

Y/n hands him the items while imagining how Vance would have picked light fun at him for helping calling him "soft."

"T-thank you so much! Please let me pay you back for your kindness." The stranger says grabbing the teen's arm forcefully trying to pull him to the van.

"Hey man get the hell off of me!" Y/n shouts as he yanks his arm back. The man lunges for Y/n wrapping his arms around him. Y/n tries to fight back by kicking and stomping on the man's foot and also by scratching his arms.

The man swung the teen around in his arms yanking him to the van.

Y/n swung his head straight back hitting the man with the back of his head causing his nose to bleed.

"You brat!" The man shouts as he uses one of his free hand to pry open Y/n's mouth before using his other one to spray something inside his mouth.

Y/n continues to fight and sway around until his own body gives up on him slowly becoming unconscious the man swings open the van door angrily tossing Y/n inside of it before slamming it shut.

TIMESKIP

Opening his eyes slowly Y/n raised his head from the dirty mattress he laid on. As he looked around the more his brain processed what just happened before he got unconscious.

The walls were dirty and rusty and so was the floor. The only thing that kept Y/n company was a black phone besides the mattress on the wall. Y/n sat all the way up leaning his back against the wall.

The only door insight began to unlock and twist open.

Y/n quickly stood up and clenched his fist. Sure Y/n didn't fight much, but all the times he did he won and thankfully his boyfriend was a fighter so he knew a thing or two about beating the hell out of someone.

With the door opening Y/n got into a fighting stance just as his boyfriend taught him.

A man stepped into the empty basement staring at Y/n menacingly.

"Step any closer to me i'll kick your ass." Y/n says not even trying to threatening him. The teen told the man as if he was stating a fact. The man only laughs and step a few feet closer.

"Kick my ass? How cute." The grabber teases.

"Trust me I've been doing this for a long~ time. You won't be the first kid I snatched who fought back." The grabber says before adding."hmm... You know you sounded just like a boy who I kidnapped a few months ago. That's right Vance Hopper."

Y/n's fist clenched tighter as his whole body went into a state of shock and pause. "Y-you what." Y/n says with his voice cracking slightly.

"Vance~ I remember the day I kidnapped him. When I was driving around in my van I saw you two hug and kiss outside of your house. Y'all two looked so inlove as you wished each other bye. Even after he left after walking you open he still had a dopey smile on his face." The grabber says as he smirked behind his mask.

When he thought he would get an outburst from the teen Y/n stayed silent and on guard not even flinching.

The grabber lets out a frustrated noise before turning away leaving slamming the door shut.

With the new information Y/n lets go of the breath he was holding as he laid back down on the mattress thinking. As he thought his eyes wondered around looking before landing on the telephone.

Getting up Y/n walked over to the telephone picking up the phone and dialing 9-1-1. Much to Y/n's guess it didn't work and Y/n put the phone back into its place before sitting back down on his mattress.

TIMESKIP

For the past few days it has been weird and scary for Y/n. For numerous times him and the grabber fought and argued. Y/n refused to eat and drink and even one point threw the tray of food at the grabber once he came to collect it.

And even one time Y/n had gained advantage on the grabber taking him to the floor, but sadly he sprayed the same thing that caused Y/n to be unconscious the first time in his mouth.

The teen even met the ghost of the Grabbers old victims. They taught and helped Y/n against the grabber. Giving the teen tips and how to avoid the same fate they met.

The grabber haven't checked on the kid all day, so Y/n was just in the basement looking at the open scars from the previous fight he and the grabber had.

*riiing* *riiiing*

Y/n head whipped around looking at the black phone that was shaking. The teen quickly got up and walked to the phone. Picking up the phone Y/n glanced to the door making sure the grabber wasn't there.

"Hello?" Y/n says into the phone.

It was silence for a while until...

"Y/n you still sound like a fucking dork."

That's what caused Y/n to freeze. From everything that Y/n went through for the past few days this is what shocked him the most. The voice that he loved and cried for months.

"V-Vance! Is that you?!" Y/n's own voice began to betray him as tears threatened to fall.

"Yes babe it's me!" Vance's voice rings out through the phone causing Y/n start to break down.

"Vance! I'm sorry! I'm sorry that I wasn't there. For months I used to believe that you ran away without me. I-I'm so sorry Vans." Y/n sobs out as he spilled out the nickname he used to call him.

"Babe, don't start crying. I don't like hearing you cry." Vance says as his own voice began to crack.

"I miss you so much...I-I *sniff* " Y/n couldn't even finish his own sentence as he cried leaning his body against the wall.

"I know... I miss you everyday. And I guess it's my fault that we couldn't run away with each other as we planned---"

"Don't say that. It's neither of our faults okay!" Y/n cuts him off as he tried to wipe away his tears.

The phone grows quiet.

Finally breaking the painful silence.

"Promise me Y/n that you'll kick this guy's ass. Do it for the other dumb asses here... Do it for me." Vance says softly.

"I promise. You have my word babe." Y/n voices crack out knowing that he'll have to hang up soon.

"You better god damn it! I'll be there with you okay!?!..."

The two grow silent once again.

“Don’t go…” Y/n breathes out to the phone clenching onto it tightly.

“I have to.”

“Don’t please…even if I— I survive I won’t be able to live without you Vance! You told me that we were soulmates!” Y/n begins to sob again.

“Goodbye Y/n…”

With those last few words the phone rings silently.

With tears blocking his vision he drops the phone letting it hang. Y/n began to cry and shout screaming and cry out for his boyfriend.

“So you do cry?”

Y/n’s head whips around looking at the man that stood by the door.

“After everything this what makes you break? You miss your pathetic boyfriend? Well your in luck because I feel a bit generous today.” The grabber teases before walking towards Y/n.

Once he was close enough Y/n tries to push him away, but the grabber was fast taking a fistful of Y/n’s hair yanking him to him.

The grabber pulls Y/n to the bathroom area.

“This is we’re he died.” The grabber says yanking Y/n’s head to the wall forcing him to look at the pool of dried blood on the walls.

“I took his head just how I am with yours and banged his head against the wall until he was bloody and limp.” The grabber says whispering into Y/n’s ear.

With the picture painted in his mind Y/n eyes started to water as the grabber went on and on about how he killed him.

TIMESKIP

Since his last call Y/n and the ghost began to communicate more and more.

Their calls became more helpful and strategic preparing for what’s about to come or really the day he’s supposed to be killed. Y/n had been staring at the door for the longest.

Y/n looked to the side of the room seeing all the ghost standing by the wall. Who really stuck out to Y/n was his boyfriend looking at him with so much guilt and confidence.

Vance’s eyes softened once him and Y/n met eyes. Y/n gave Vance a small smile before turning back around looking at the door again.

With the door slowly opening Y/n stands up from the bed.

Bracing himself Y/n gets ready to fight with everything he got. With the door opening Y/n’s eyes glare.

First a dog steps inside the room with a steel chain wrapped around his neck. The grabber walks inside behind the dog with a smirk.

“You really are just like your boyfriend. Never backing down from a fight.” The grabber taunts as the dog bark and growl.

“Keep his name out of your fucking mouth.” Y/n says with a straight face showing no emotion.

The grabber ties the chain around a pipe as he takes a knife from his back pocket.

“Too much of a little girl to fight me with your fist.” Y/n says as he’s the one who’s taunting now.

Out of nowhere the grabber strikes pouncing in front of Y/n before swaying the knife to Y/n’s arm. Y/n dodges just in time right before the grabber tries to stab him again.

As the grabber misses a swing Y/n winds up his own arm before giving him a quick hook to the cheek.

The grabber reacts fast using the closeness to his advantage giving Y/n a quick slice to the arm.

As the two fought the ghost watch in different parts of the room. Watching intensely.

Soon enough The grabber begins to play dirty by tackling Y/n onto the hard cold dirty floor. Raising the knife above his head The grabber swings his arm down directly at Y/n’s face.

With luck Y/n swiftly moves his head out of the way making the knife dig into the floor. As the Grabber tries to pull it back Y/n punches the man straight in the stomach causing the Grabber to hunch over and gasp.

Y/n pushes the grabber off of him before quickly climbing on top.

Similar to how Vance got arrested Y/n started to punch the living shit out of the grabber. The grabbers face quickly became bloody.

Once the man under the teen became weak Y/n stood up walking to the knife that was stabbed into the floor he pulled it out before walking back to him.

“You killed those innocent boys… More importantly you killed my boyfriend.” Y/n says as he crawled onto him.

Sitting in his stomach Y/n wrapped both hands around the knife handle bringing the knife above his head he angled the knife above his heart.

Without any more words Y/n plunged the knife deep inside the man’s chest. Y/n drive the knife deep before pulling it out and back inside stabbing him repeatedly.

“You killed my boyfriend you fucking asshole!” Y/n shouted as he stabbed him again and again.

Finally calming down Y/n dropped the knife before getting up and looked around.

With all the ghost staring at him Y/n knew what they wanted to do. Y/n ran up the stares leaving the basement before running to the front door that was surprisingly unlocked.

The only thing Y/n could do now was shut and find someone.

Sprinting out of the yard Y/n ran with all his might. What Y/n didn’t notice that his boyfriend was in the middle of the street watching him run away watching Y/n with a proud expression.

“Good job babe…”

THE END

#vance hopper x reader #vance hopper x male reader #the black phone #the black phone x reader #the black phone x male reader #x male reader #male reader #the bear club

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ellemfaoh · 2 years

Text

Pinball, Hair, and Detention Pt. 1 | Vance Hopper x Reader

Part 1 (here) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Word Count: 2.9k

Categories: Enemies to Lovers (eventually lol), Rivalry, Angst, Fluff, mentions of past Bruce X Reader

Content Warnings: Swearing, Bullying, Mentions of Blood, Fighting, Female Reader implied

Summary: Reader and Vance have some sort of ongoing rivalry. You accidentally spilled your drink on his hair and he in turn gave you a “fresh cut.” You both end up getting detention together due to fighting. On the walk home one day— where you both live merely a block away, he barely misses your abduction and watches as you helplessly get carried away in a black van.

A/N: let’s pretend the grabber decided to start grabbing like a year or two later or smth cuz high schooler Vance and Bruce seems more plausible to me personally

A/N 2.0: Please excuse weird formatting like spaces behind paragraphs n shit. I wrote this on docs because my personal laptop is broken and my school laptops block tumblr—so all this uploading is done from my phone lol

——————————————

You never figured that walking into the Grab ‘N Go on a hot Denver summer day would have catalyzed as big a domino effect on your life as it did—and yet it did.

It was the middle of a Denver summer in 1977, the year before high school; and everyone was dealing with a week hotter than satan’s armpit. Most kids were either in their houses with the AC on full blast, in stores and the local theater, or away to go to the beach with their family. It explains why the town was just a little more empty this week. Both of your parents worked full-time jobs down in the city around an hour away, so you were confined to either your house or local entertainment attractions—the same ones you had been using since you could open your eyes. It was kind of old by the time you were twelve and stuck in your small town for yet another summer.

You were currently situated on your bed, reading last week’s edition of the Teen Beat magazine, flipping through the pages of celebrity interviews, dating tips, and latest fashion trends—which eventually got old, especially considering this was last week’s magazine. You checked the time. 12:53 PM. Probably the hottest part of the day. You only lived three blocks from the Grab N’ Go though, so if you biked or just walked quickly you probably wouldn’t get heatstroke just from being outside.

“Ugh.” You groaned, peeling yourself from the comforts of your bed. You had to change. “All of this for a magazine and some cola.” You muttered to yourself, sliding on the nearest (and hopefully clean) pair of jean shorts and exchanging your spaghetti strap pajama top for a plain white tee.

Getting out of your room and down the hall, you picked up the shoes you kicked off in the hallway yesterday and slipped them on, grabbing the $5 bill your parents left on the counter for you to order lunch with—which you were deciding to use for snacks. Maybe you’d pick up a small lunch thing on the way home. The money’s use was ‘to be determined,’ you decided.

Leaving your house and out into the Denver summer air, any amount of chill you felt on yourself before was wiped away completely. You needed to make this trip quick. What was a little jog compared to the instant relief of the too-cold Grab N’ Go?

Walking into the small convenience store was instant relief. Not too many people were around—and those that were wouldn’t bother you, the lady at the counter looked less bothered too, which was surprising since Vance Hopper was stationed at the pinball machine as per usual. Maybe it was because no one who would piss him off was there. Then again, anyone who bothers Vance must have a death wish.

Grabbing a soda and the new edition of Teen Beat, you walked over to the counter and slid the money over, opening the drink and quenching your thirst for a cold drink. Taking the return cash the lady gave you, you walked over to the exit, flipping through some pages absentmindedly. It was this exact moment where life seemed to have changed forever. An excited kid—probably an elementary schooler if you had to guess, ran into your arm, causing your soda to splash out of the bottle. You definitely had a death wish now, because your soda got all over Vance Hopper; the sugary drink now in his hair and on his back.

When the losing chime of the pinball sounded around the store and the blonde went still, the air in the mart tensed. Everyone was waiting. Watching. You didn’t bother to wait either, quickly speeding out of the store. Maybe he wouldn’t remember your face. You had never really talked with him before, the most you had done was look at him a few times in classes you had previously shared.

You had drank a little more soda and tossed it in the nearest trash. Sure you were running away from what was probably certain death, but you already bought the soda. Might as well finish what’s left before running away. You rolled up your magazine and tucked it into a pocket before moving into a slight jog to go back home. Or maybe you should go get something from a restaurant. Usually when you commit an unsaid crime hiding in unexpected places could benefit. You barely made it a block away before you heard Vance shout at you, his footsteps getting increasingly louder.

“Hey dumb shit! You just got your soda shit all over me!”

You sped up, breaking into a run and not responding to him. If you made it home in time then maybe he’d leave you alone. But what about school? You’d have to change your name and face and move across the country.

“I’m going to kill you!” Now he was running after you. He wasn’t unused to running after kids who fucked with him, so he was pretty used to this kinda thing. And he was fast at it too. “Gotcha!”

You yelped when you were grabbed and thrown down onto the grass next to the sidewalk. At least you were next to a park. Maybe God would be a little more merciful today, considering you could’ve been thrown onto the pavement. You really hoped that the next thing that would happen would be you getting saved right before he starts beating your head into the ground. You really didn’t feel like going to the ER today, and your mom would be pissed about how you knew you shouldn’t start shit with ‘Vance fucking Hopper.’ Your dad would probably beat you for a second time over the medical bills.

“I swear it wasn’t on purpose!” You pleaded, choosing to explain yourself as he straddled your waist, keeping you in place between his legs as he grabbed at your shirt collar. Maybe he’d punch you softer? “Some kid ran into my arm! I promise I’d never bother you ever, Hopper!”

Vance just started down at you, fist by his side, assessing your words. “Huh.” He said, letting your shirt go as your upper body fell to the ground. Now you were winded. Better than the alternative. “Guess I’ll just get a similar payback then.”

You watched in horror as he pulled out a pocket knife. What was he gonna do? Carve his name into you? Cut up your face? Oh god, he was gonna murder you. With a not-so-gentle hand, the blonde boy pulled your hair, hands threaded firmly in your locks. “What…?”

Vance cut off a good length of your hair, and you watched in horror (as best you could) at the hack job. What previously used to be your clean-cut hair was now resting on the floor or cut in the most uneven way possible. Maybe a bright side would be the fact you had the layers all of your hairstylists could never give you. After he was finished, he stood up and looked at the hair in his fist while you sat there crying. “Now we’re even.” He said, tossing the rest of your hair into the grass next to you.

That was the start of your burning hatred for Vance Hopper.

——————————————

High School had finally started a few weeks after your and Vance’s incident. At least your hair could grow into its new form for a little bit. To say your mom was angry when she came home that night to find your hair hacked up was an understatement. She was livid—ranting about, ‘how could you let this happen?!’ And, ‘We need to schedule you an appointment with Shelly immediately.’ You had to hand it to your mom and Shelly though; cuz they got your hair not looking as horrible as it did. Hell, they even kept the layers, which was actually really nice. As you walked through the halls, you could tell there were a few people talking about your hair. It made sense though, considering you ended school with longer hair.

You walked up to your friend, Bruce Yamada, leaning against his neighboring locker as you let out a quiet groan of exhaustion and annoyance. He just chuckled and closed his locker, slinging his bag over his shoulder and gave you a light punch in the shoulder. “Spur of the moment decision, or did you get caught in something?”

“Does Vance Hopper count?”

“Yikes.”

You quickly socked him in the shoulder, lips turned into a frown as you looked at him. Bruce just gave a light chuckle and apologized for the remark while rubbing his shoulder. You weren’t by any means a crazily strong badass, but you can pack quite a mean punch. Just not against Vance Hopper, or Robin Arellano. Though, after your run-in with Vance this summer, you did practice your swings and basic attacks—just in case, you thought,

“Whatever, let’s just go to class.” You sighed, grabbing Bruce by his backpack strap and pulling on him. You two were lucky to have three out of your six of your classes together, and they were in every other class period, so it wouldn’t be horrible.

Rolling into your first period, which was Biology, you were relieved to not see a certain blonde-headed dickhead anywhere around. Bruce chuckled at you when you let out a sigh of relief and dragged you to the last available seats that were next to each other. You both would be damned if you didn’t sit next to each other. Bruce wanted someone to help keep his ‘crazy fans,’ as you dubbed it, away from him. You? You just didn’t really wanna sit next to someone you didn’t know well. You really hated the awkward silence when the teacher asked you guys to do the ‘get to know your classmate’ activities.

“Class one cleared.” He whispered to you, getting a giggle out of you. That was the nice part of being friends with Bruce, is that he always knew how to keep the mood light. Previously, a few summers ago, you both dated. It wasn’t anything big, and it just felt like being friends. You both decided to just keep up with the friends thing, considering there was no romantic chemistry there. Now you were both the other’s special person. Bruce’s break-ups, your family issues, no secret was kept between you two.

——————

After Biology ended and you started heading toward English, your stomach lurched up your throat. Vance Hopper was right in front of you. Luckily he was walking forward so he didn’t see you, but you almost bumped into him for a second time. You didn’t need to be re-acquainted with his pocket knife again. You saw a small space in the hallway clear out and give you a direct ‘in’ into your English classroom, so you quickly ducked your head and hurried into the classroom, finding a seat in the back of the class next to the windows. Thank god this spot was still open.

You set your bag down on your desk and laid your head on top of it, listening to the buzz of kids talking with their friends as they entered the classroom. What was a short 5-minute power nap gonna do? Just before you could relax fully though, the buzz turned into a quiet hum suddenly. It was weird. Did the teacher walk in? Was it Mr. Manning? He was the worst teacher to have. You lifted your head up to see what the quietness was about, expecting to see a balding middle aged man at the front of the class, but you were met with Vance Hopper.

“Fuck.” You mumbled, watching him walk up to you.

“Hey dipshit, you’re in my seat.”

The kids in the classroom visibly tensed as he spoke to you, watching as you gave him a tired look. You knew the easy path would be to relinquish your seat and move, but you were particularly pissed at him. You didn’t want to give him the right to walk all over you. It was the middle of a school day—what was he gonna do?

“No I’m not. I’m in my seat.”

Vance gave you an angry look, standing right next to you. “Do I need to cut off your tongue next? I’m telling you to–”

“Everyone sit down and be quiet. I’m taking attendance.” Your teacher walked in, and what did you know? Mr. Manning. “Also, these are your seats for the rest of the school year, so enjoy.” Everyone looked up at him, waiting for him to finish with whatever paper he had in his hands. Please look up. Please notice Vance. “Hopper! I know about you. Sit your ass down.” He said, pointing at the seat next to you. Fuck. That wasn’t occupied?

Vance gave you one more angry glare before dropping his stuff and sitting down begrudgingly in the uncomfortable plastic chair. Well, at least Vance wouldn’t be able to torment you too much here. When you looked up though, he slid his finger across his throat. A warning.

You’re dead.

——————

“I’m telling you Bruce, he kept kicking my legs during class! It hurt like a bitch too. Have you seen his boots? I’m gonna die.” You finish telling Bruce, sitting at your table and chewing angrily on your sandwich. It was Friday, the last day of the first week of school, and you were just hours from 48 hours of freedom from Vance Hopper. “And I have to deal with him in history next.” Yes, you had Vance Hopper in two of your classes

“Wow. Good luck.” He says, trading you his apple for your peach. “I mean, good luck with getting through high school. With Vance in your classes and all.”

“Your support speaks volumes.” You say flatly, laughing along with Bruce. You couldn’t ask for a better friend—he just always made things feel so much better.

That was until you felt a cold substance coat your head entirely, slowly dripping in your hair to your clothes. Vance fucking Hopper just poured his milk all over you. Bruce just stared at you for a second, standing up instantly as you took a moment to process what happened and wipe the milk off of your face.

“What’s your problem with (Y/N), man?!” Bruce shouted at Vance, the blonde walking away with a cocky smirk.

“I mistook her for a trash can, my bad.” He chuckled, kids turning to look at the commotion building. “Maybe you shouldn’t hang around her so much, you wouldn’t want me to have to—“

Vance was met with a right hook to the face, not expecting you to fight back ever. The first time you had cried over a simple accident, but now you were swinging at him? Oh were you getting bold. He blinked in shock for a moment, pressing a hand to his face and looking at you. Maybe now would be a good time to back down and accept what you had coming, but you were feeling really stupid today.

He seized you by your collar, holding you close as he growled out, “You’ll regret that when you’re six feet under, you bitch.”

You spat in his face, kicking at his knee to get him to let go—which he did, and you fell back to the ground with all your body weight, watching him wipe the spit from his face as he wound back and gave you a good kick to your legs, a yelp caught in your throat. Now the entire cafeteria had eyes on you both, kids watching in horror, shock, and excitement. You’d love to see these kids go toe-to-toe with Vance Hopper the way you were now.

After a short while of fighting, you and Vance were on the floor. Scratches, bites, punches, hair pulling. Blood, and bruises, and welts. Vance’s arms were for sure fucked to hell and back, but he did a large number to your torso. You would totally believe it if you were told you broke a rib. It wasn’t long before Bruce had run back in with security and staff, watching the two of you get pulled apart.

Vance had a bruise already taking place on his cheek and his arms were visibly harmed—hell, you even got a hold of some of his hair. The previously fluffy but somewhat tamed mop on his head was now a mess of tangles and abuse. You meanwhile had a bloody nose, and you were holding an arm around your stomach, knees wobbly. While you managed to get back at Vance in your own way, you definitely took the brunt of the beating, and not to mention the milk in your hair was still there.

Vance fought against the grip on his arms like an angry restrained dog, while you stared at the floor, walking to the office with the teacher who was next to you. Looking over at Bruce, he mouthed a ‘sorry’ and you just gave him a small smile, shaking your head. You could always count on Bruce to somehow end up a hero in a sense. With a last look back at Vance, he also walked in defeat to the office, refusing to look at you. What a fucking asshole.

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familyvideostevie · 9 months

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🐚 SEASHELL: “Can we pretend that we’re good? Just for the night til the morning, I’d take it back if I could, but I’ll never find another you.” With James Potter please and thanks.

omg! you sure can! i was feeling a bit angst in this one, maybe james sticking his foot in his mouth and not realizing it. so here's him doing just that! (it ends nice though, obviously)

It's like the entire pub goes quiet when you hear it. James is maybe three paces in front of you, speaking to some girls you think you know. You can't see his face but you bet he's smiling, being kind and handsome and flirty like he always is. You plan to slide under his arm and exhibit a tiny bit of possessiveness as you give him his drink but then you hear one of the girls ask about you.

"Are you two, like, together?"

James shrugs. "Why, are you about to ask me to dinner, Vance?"

In that instant, one of the girls spots you behind James and her eyes go wide. You turn before she can say anything and retreat through the crowd and out the front door, two drinks in hand. The smokers who are chatting seem to see that you're in crisis mode and surrender a bit of the standing room to you.

Frankly, you're embarrassed to be so upset. You and James are not officially together. Some dates, kisses, nights spent together don't amount to exclusivity if you haven't spoken about it. But you know that the boys refer to you as his better half and he calls you on days he doesn't see you and you thought maybe it was going in that direction.

But while James is kind and sweet and lovely, he is also a bit vain and has quite the ego sometimes and he likes to flirt. You know all of this but your chest is aching, even so.

Someone calls your name and then James is in front of you. His face is a mix of emotions you've not seen before on him -- flustered and concerned. "I'm sorry," he says, though you're not sure he knows what he's apologizing for.

"I got you a drink," you say, a bit morosely. A breeze sweeps down the street and you shiver. James whips off his jacket and drapes it around your shoulders.

He deems the drinks irrelevant, taking them from you and putting them on the ledge of the pub. "I'm sorry," he says again. "The girls in there told me I needed to fix what I did, so here I am."

He rubs his hands up and down your arms, brow furrowed. He really does seem stressed. "I don't know what you're apologizing for," you say quietly. "No need."

"There is," he says, frowning. "I was being daft. I should have said we're together, because we are. No need to joke about it."

"Are we?" you say, hating how small you sound. James huffs.

"I guess we haven't put a label on it, have we?" You shake your head. "Well, no time like the present. We've been together for weeks in my head, honestly," he confesses. "I mean, I've been having dreams about you for months. Remus says I say your name in my sleep when I'm napping on his couch."

"James," you admonish, face heating. "I feel silly," you tell him.

"What, you don't want to be together? Now is the time to tell me, darling." You look at him and he looks less worried now, though his eyes flash behind his lenses.

"No, I do," you say, and he grins. "I just feel silly for being upset."

James tugs you in for a hug. You smush your face into his shoulder and feel his chest vibrate as he laughs. "It's kind of hot," he says in your ear. "Being possessive. Feel free to do it anytime."

You smack his chest with your palm. "You're impossible."

"But I'm your impossible!"

"That doesn't even make sense, James." He puts your hand on his elbow before he grabs your drinks and heads for the door to go back inside, flashing you a grin and a wink.

"Now I get to tell the whole pub we're together," he says. "And you get to take credit for all the dumb shit I say."

join the celebration!

#fvsbeachday #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fanfiction #james potter fluff #marauders fanfiction

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ivanzplaid · 2 years

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hello i was wondering if i could request a Vance Hopper x female reader (gn is okay also ) where reader is getting bullied by some kids at school and hiding it from vance and he gets a hunch something is wrong and finds out and beat the bullies ass & gets mad at the reader & yells at them but then realize the reader is hurt kinda bad & apologize & take care of the reader after saying it's okay & don't hide things from him next time a lil angst & fluff plz take care of urself & drink some water

oooo, the details are so nice here, i love this idea sm!! ive not got a lot of experience w writing angst so take this w a grain of salt, but i hope you enjoy!

requests r open, masterlist is up!

Vance Hopper x Gn Reader!

Warnings: Slight Angst, Bullied Reader, Slight Injury Mentioning

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

June's uncertain weather never spared you, leaving you chilled while walking home from school, the wind lashing out on you. The fresh bruise forming on your leg began to flare up with pain as you continued walking, your pace quickening as your ears picked up heavy footsteps in the distance, heading right to you. Originally, you guided yourself to your boyfriends house, spending the rest of the day leading into the weekend with him, it'd been in the works for weeks, finding free time for the both of you.

As you treaded on, the footsteps multiplied, only getting closer. If your pace quickened, their pace quickened, and if yours slowed, they followed. It was in a mocking manner, they were so obviously taunting you while you had no guard, targeting you while you're vulnerable, and it was working. Vance's house was a block away, turning a right would give you access of his street, but you were brutally shoved to the pavement before you got within running distance. Your shoulder connected to the concrete, a harsh thud coming from it, you were lying there helplessly, how embarrassing.

Propping yourself on your elbows, you inched backwards, trying to pad yourself with the scarce yellow grass. Your head tilted up, locking eyes with the group of guys that stood before you. Even with the sun obscuring your view, you knew who it was, and the foreboding feeling seeped in you as the boy with curly brown hair stepped forward, a smile forming when he saw your eye brows furrowing, accompanied by your look of disgust.

"Don't look so fucking upset, I haven't even touched you yet."

His voice lingered longer than needed, he wanted to see you scared. They always took advantage when you didn't have Vance hounding you, sticking within your view. They took pride in knowing you didn't have it in you to fight back, acknowledging just who they were beating up made them feel braver.

The boy bent down, bunching your shirt in his fist as he grimaced down at you. His face was inches away, the mutual feeling of hatred was apparent. Taking an opportunity in, you spat at him, the saliva causing him to squint his eyes & curse under his breath.

"You little shit. Too fucking bad your boyfriend isn't here to be your body guard."

You tensed, the air being taken from your body as he lifted himself up with a foot on your stomach. Shielding your eyes, you awaited the antagonizing pain that was to come, being sharply delivered, but the revelation would be revealed as to why there was no kicking or stomping within seconds.

"You Fuckers! I'll send you all to the hospital, get the fuck away!"

The sun was covered by trees, but the light still warmed the earth while you were escorted to Vance's house, his grip on your shoulder was something he'd never shown before. His rough hand fit perfectly, and if you weren't in this situation it could've been romantic, but Vance's body language was nothing short of irritated. His voluntary silence seethed with anger made your heart beat, ringing in your ears while he took you down the road, his house nearing. You could tell he was angry, he didn't try to hide it, but you couldn't distinguish why he was angry with you. The bruises and blood were not a new concept to him, so why was he bothered about it now?

Walking up his front steps, he kicked the door with a firm leg. Nobody else was home, there were no cars in his drive way, nobody there to scold him, and nobody there to regulate him.

His hands brought you to the couch, firmly putting you down with a silent agreement that you'd stay there. The heavy breathing emitting from his was mildly concerning.

"Vance, listen. It's not what it-"

"Don't start now. I'm getting water."

The house sat in silence as he moved, hearing the faucet turn on, then hastily turning off. He was attempting to soothe his nerves so he wouldn't misplace his anger, but as he sat next to you, it clearly did not work. He was shaking slightly, his hands gave it away as he threw them in the air, a heavy sigh coming next.

"What the hell? You told me that nothing was going on. You lied to me. For fucking what?"

He didn't give you a chance to speak, his voice was the only thing keeping himself from lashing out more, or letting one of his tears that built up out.

"I can easily deal with them, you know that. I just beat them to a pulp, but you know what fucking sucks?"

He was sporadically breathing, facing you entirely. You could see the hurt in his eyes, encapsulating you to his world.

He took a small breath in, the unfamiliar tone of disappoint came over the room.

"It hurt that I had to figure it out myself, that you didn't want to tell me."

His sentence was finished abruptly, ending with him leaning backwards, head peering up at the ceiling above, searching in his mind, or maybe his mind was blank, sitting with the rooms feel. His demeanor was exhausted, tired, a scary look on such a gruff boy.

Your stomach ached, not from pain, but from guilt. You joined him, staring at the ceiling longingly, you wished you could pause time to think of something to say. Your throat felt closed, or hard. You wanted to say so much, but you couldn't, your hazy mind prevented you from speaking, and it only seemed to make your throat even more clogged with 'wishes' and 'could've's.

"What's wrong with just, telling me. Is it me? Am I too unapproachable for you?"

You could tell he was rationalizing. Seeing you rather get your shit beat, bloody and injured, than tell him affected him worse than any fight could. It felt like distrust to him, like a part breaking off. He wondered if he was too brutish to be with you.

The silence overcame the room once again, and the both of you sat in it, letting the mood hit the both of you, together.

Finally speaking felt necessary, but your voice was dry from the air, harsh. Even the slightest words couldn't stop you from crying, so you accepted your fate, not trying to hide.

"I didn't want you to be overwhelmed. You already do too much for me,"

You felt the couch shift as Vance moved his body next to yours, allowing you to lean your head on his shoulder,

"You shouldn't be obligated to be my protector, you have your own life."

The ceiling became blurry from your tears, cruel blinks finding their way to you. An arm suddenly snaked around your back, to your shoulder, holding you lightly in a comforting sense. His fingers drew circles on your upper arm.

"My life is with your life, idiot. Why do you think I'm with you?"

His words, while seeming harsh, blanketed you. They were sorrowful in their own way, specific to Vance, and Vance only.

"Really?"

The arms moved from your shoulder to your hand, squeezing it. The house's air became warm once again as you two worked it out, communicating silently & verbally.

"I swear."

The calloused fingers sat comfortably over yours, and the both of you stared up at the ceiling as time ventured on, promising many more moments for your time together.

"I'm sorry."

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sorrg if this was written weird, dont know why i feel so off abt it🫡🫡 but i hope you enjoy!!

requests r open, masterlist is up :)

#black phone #the black phone #the black phone 2022 #the black phone x reader #vance hopper #vance hopper x reader #vance hopper x you #gn reader #angst with a happy ending #angst

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in3rci4 · 16 days

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Can I get an Angst with all the boys, having a crush on gn reader who is new in town and heterochromia? ( If you can of course💕)

It's the first time I do a request fr 😭

It's ok , it's normal to be nervous when requesting if you're new or not used to it , hopefully I'll do my best with this one , enjoy it anon , thank you for sending your request 💕 !

°°°IT'S THE EYES . IT WAS ALL IN THEIR EYES °°°

Author's note : I been slow with publishing stuff because personal life is becoming more a survival than living , so sorry if it takes some requests too long to get done , but I'm slowly , yet surely , getting the ones I have done one step at the time .

Characters included in the following headcanons : Robin Arellano , Griffin Stagg , Vance Hopper , Finney Blake , Bruce Yamada , Billy Showalter

WARNINGS ! : CHARACTER X READER CONTENT , IGNORANCE / DISBELIEF ABOUT THE SYNDROME , BULLYING , THIS MIGHT BE SHORTER THAN EXPECTED , SOME MIGHT BE SHORTER THAN OTHERS , THERE'S PROBABLY SPELLING MISTAKES , GENDER NEUTRAL READER , CRINGE ¿? PROBABLY CRINGE , 2 SIDES , ONE WITH FLUFF , ONE WITH ANGST ( AND IT MIGHT NOT BE SO X READER TYPE OR BE A SENSITIVE TOPIC TO READ , ALSO THE CHARACTERS ARE MEAN ON THE ANGST ) TOXICITY ¿? DISCRIMINATION , MANIPULATION ¿? , ETC

ROBIN ARELLANO

≈ This guy is in love with your eyes , they're so unique , so badass , so special of yours , you're like a cool character of a movie or like a kickass villain

≈ Robin is a boy who loves everything that it's out of the normality , the more different , the more harder to forget , the better .

≈ If you felt insecure for your eye colors before then you'll be no more with him by your side ! He will compliment you without shame in front of others and he won't stop until you're all flustered and blushing

≈ But all jokes aside , once he get to know you and learned more about you , Robin will always remember you to not feel bad about your looks , it's not like you can control it , and it's nothing bad that you need to hide either

≈ if you want to buy contact lenses to match both eyes he won't stop you , but he'll be sad for not being able to see the real look in your eyes anymore

≈ He sometimes jokes about being jealous of your eyes , you get to have 2 colors and he only got 1 , that's not fair ! He wants to look just as cool as you

≈ You will always have his protection and support , no one will make fun of you , no one , and the one who dares to will feel a physical payment for playing stupid games in their faces

≈ Don't ever feel bad about yourself , because you'll have an annoying and romantic Robin making sure to bust your ego over the sky and taking photos whenever he can

≈ But that isn't so bad , isn't ?

GRIFFIN STAGG

° He's so sorry for being the ones who believed in the rumours it was contagious in the past , for being ignorant and avoiding you like the rest of the students

° Growing up he realized it was something stupid to think on , if it was contagious , then why nobody has changed eye colors yet ?

° Maybe you don't , but Griffin does remember well the day you two started to be friends

° The day you decided not to do anything in P.E class because you felt physically bad , and he , since nobody wanted him on his team , didn't lose anything by also not doing exercise either . You sat next to him , and started a casual conversation that turned out to be a funny exchange

° Casual conversations started to be more interested on each other's likes , conversations in each other's likes lead to gossip sessions , gossip became deep talks about the future and other corny shit that Griffin didn't thought he'll talk with someone ever

° He compares your eyes a lot with things , now that he learned to appreciate them , he can't stop remember you everytime a combination of color is the same as the look in your eyes

° You can say that your charm is contagious , and he's more than happy to be infected by love for you

VANCE HOPPER

♠ While others kids thought you were weird or cool , Vance thought you were a pretender

♠ Can you blame him though ? He hasn't seen somebody like you in his entire life , it's impossible for someone to have their eyes like that ! You must be using contact lenses or some shit !

♠ The evening he realized you weren't faking , he melted like ice cream in summer right there in front of you ( But you didn't noticed it )

♠ He stormed furious out of the mall when in a bad day he couldn't even get to the half of his high score , and accidently bumped into you . He looked into your eyes mad as hell , not expecting at all to see your pupils getting bigger , frozen about how fucked up it was to know that you truly had such a unique pair of eyes

♠ After an awkward time he slowly started to greet you " indifferently " , drawing you on his special notebook when the teachers didn't bothered him , and sometimes inviting you to watch him play Pin Ball when he felt cocky enough

♠ Hope you don't mind intense staring , because Vance is all about looking straight into your soul , he can't help it , or well , maybe he can because he can be a little of a tsundere

♠ To be honest he'll stare at your eyes all day if he could , but he's too of a dork to admit it , or decide if he likes it when you look at him or not due how flustered you make him feel

♠ And yeah , he will start a fight for you if someone dares to mock you , it's obvious , but it's a nice thing to think about

FINNEY BLAKE

∞ Finney is more curious than avoidant , he feels guilty for looking at you so much , you may had felt the hairy eyeball before and don't like it but , you're so .... Interesting ? Beautiful ? It's hard to describe

∞ Even for A or B you'll meet and trust my word , he's going to be respectful all the time he's with you . Only if you gave him permission to , he'll ask you more about your condition and how it exactly effects you , but don't worry , once he get all his doubts solved , he will move on and ask you about yourself

∞ He understands it yet he does not understand how someone could hate you by the color of your eyes , he doesn't even get racism and now we have people insult you by the color of your eyes ? By something you didn't choose to have ? Like what ?

∞ You're special ( and attractive he may add ) from the rest and that's gonna get more staring than someone else will have , sure , but he'll be angrily confused if someone bothered you in front of him , now we're bullying people for their genetics ? Come on man

∞ Finney would try to get you out of a uncomfortable situation , but if it persists , he might be verbally violent or push the person to tell them to back off and leave you alone

∞ Bonus : Gwen does the same with you , although she loves to tease Finney in your presence , she likes you though , she just does the " sibling annoying the other " things

∞ He has a special love letter that he never gave you were he used astronomy elements to describe you and the look in your eyes , but he was to embarrassed or afraid of rejection that he kept it for himself

∞ You read it , but you never told Finney and kept the secret

BRUCE YAMADA

★ Ignorance isn't a sin some people say , but he pity you when he first saw you and until this day he can't believe how dumb he was

★ Bruce mind was like " Aw poor kid they probably have problems with their vision " as if he knew what exactly condition you have

★ He felt like a dumbass the day you tapped his shoulder to tell him from really far away that someone was trying to steal his bike after one of his games

★ To thank you for the gesture ( ahem , and clear his mind from the guilt ) he invited you to watch a movie in the cinema ( Jaws 2 being his option and yours Star Wars 4 , you both watched the two of the movies because in one you sneak in between the crowd anyway )

★ after that movie night everything went smooth , until the point that neither of you acknowledge the fact that you still didn't confessed yet and were already lovey dovey with each other

★ He has the privilege to say he has a partner that has no comparation , there's no other you , and Bruce loves that

★ Bruce loves you and those special eyes that life has gave you

BILLY SHOWALTER

🔺 Billy knew animals could had two different colors in their eyes , but he didn't thought it was possible for a human too

🔺 It was a shame how nobody saw that special shine in you , or maybe they did , but they decided it was too bright for them and tried to turn you down

🔺 But you never let them took advantage of you , and he was proud that you know your worth and didn't let the negativity get you

🔺 He didn't stuttered or thought twice when you asked him on a date , you were his crush , of course he's gonna say yes !

🔺 Billy is not only an admirer of you and your lovely eyes , but a flatterer as well

🔺 At first , the compliments were accidents that escaped from his mouth before he noticed he was talking in loud voice , but with time , he became more and more confident to tell you how gorgeous you look , how you make him feel , his plans for the future , etc

🔺 If Billy has the chance to , he's gonna spoil the hell out of you , just to give you a material proof how much he loves you , so he can see that singular look in your eyes everytime you're happy , forever .

ANGST PART

They would love you of course , they can't control their hearts to stop beating for you every time you look at them or smile , but love sometimes ain't all rainbows and butterflies .

Now why or why you were born like this ? Why you couldn't just be normal ? Everything could be so perfect , so beautiful , if you didn't look different and just be like other people .

In a bad dream type of reality , they will cross the limits so they don't feel " ashamed " to be seen with you

BRUCE AND BILLY would suggest the idea of buying contact lenses to match your eyes with only one color , Billy being the one telling you that it's necessary that you should had them , BRUCE being the one who bought them without asking you first as a " gift " , thinking it was the best idea , after all , the two of you would look much better as a couple in people's eyes if you did

ROBIN AND FINNEY would keep you as their secret , no one has to know their feelings for you or your relationship if you ever had one , FINNEY afraid of having another reason to be bullied because of you or having his father mock his selection of partner , ROBIN because he's ashamed of liking someone that doesn't look " right " and is "pointed by God "

VANCE AND GRIFFIN would backstabbed you when you started to get used to the idea of having someone by your side , VANCE would mock you and insult you in front of his friends or people if that made him look better , GRIFFIN would act as if he doesn't know you when you needed him the most , without a feeling completely guilty for it , perhaps not even a little if that makes you and people's starting at him when he's by your side go away

It's just the way things are . It's how your eyes are .

#the black phone #billy showalter #bruce yamada #finney blake #griffin stagg #robin arellano #tbp #tbp fandom #tbp headcanons #vance hopper #finney blake x reader #bruce yamada x reader #robin arellano x reader #billy showalter x reader #vance hopper x reader #the black phone x reader

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eluxcastar · 20 days

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Writing here because the type limit for comment in that one anon is FEOLSEKFMSEF.

NAUR, NOT THE FINAL LESSON NUH UH. If Arlecchino canonically doesn't die next patch, Brighella shouldn't too… BET. I do love the idea of a match between Cap and Brig! (wait, tf do we name her if she ain't "brighella" the fatui harbinger like it is the name she only knows) I mean, I did think about about her dying too… so tempting. I kinda ride that Acheron idea, some intense danceeee ehe… Her ult kinda has the Arle schemed and vice versa.

Angst material… hmmm, I did have an idea but it was only IF Arlecchino was centuries old but due to her taking over recently by canon that is scrapped because it is too inaccurate by the possibility lol. (It involved lowkey dying, and giving her heart to Arle then did get resurrected by the abyss order for them to use but she went rebellious and just lingers around Teyvat and the Abyss). A dance between the two, YES. I've always thought of Arlecchino being incapable of being romantic with Brighella beyond obsession. But, with all those fanfics I am consumed by sweet Arle with acts of service... Hahaha! We shall wait for the next patch on her potential emotional stance ykyk... Maybe she does care, despite having the reputation of discarding anything that does not benefit her. For me, Arlecchino is more of "You belong to me" kind of person not "You belong with me" Hold up gotta reread the lore stuff, after doing an assignment

Hehe Final Lesson inspiration I knew it was evil ALRIGHT it's on if Arle doesn't die I won't kill Brig either but if she does not only will I cry but I'll make it worse

I still call her Brighella, but she was also briefly called Matilda in my notes after the folksong Waltzing Matilda (what is she but a jolly swagman camped by a billabong (￣▽￣) wait I just realised she lives in Wangshuu Inn next to a body of water—she IS a jolly swagman camped by a billabong (°ロ°) !)

I also struggled so bad with the fact Arle is young because like, the timeline was screwing me over in my original plans (；￣Д￣) I was like WHY CAN'T YOU JUST BE OLD (to my friend if you're reading this GO AWAY it's NOT because of the accusations I like old people) it would've made my life easier, but alas miHoYo can never do such things. I would have loved that idea because it's so edible— SACRIFICING herself for Arle??? Then Arle having to grapple with potentially being responsible for Brig becoming an unwilling pawn of the abyss??? delicious (*/▽＼*)

I LOVE the dance between Acheron and Black Swan sm something about those vibes just fits them so well

Yk I agree with that philosophy that Arle is a "you belong to me" not a "you belong with me" kinda person. I also like the idea Arle is lowkey obsessed with her (and though it's subtle in OoR it's sprinkled in there ( ´ ꒳ ` ) ) I wish that it didn't get so long it lagged every word program I put it through because I think when I rewrite it, I'll lean into that more and draw out the time it takes for them to come to an agreement ( ◡‿◡ *) Possibly a mix of the two where her 'love' for Brighella is born of obsession, their relationship is probably in some manner unhealthy, but she may be able to learn to love her normally as well (I doubt either of these people are capable of a healthy or normal relationship LMAO)

Random fun fact to throw into this one: the differences in thinking about their relationship are also what prompted me to have her completely unable to understand why Brighella gave up so easily and generally have there be a disconnect between what Brig wants and what Arle wants for her (ノ*°▽°*) because those are two very different things

Second song idea for the two of them I had five seconds ago: Fire and the Flood by Vance Joy ♡( ◡‿◡ )

#✦ — riri rambles.#♡ — kae.#✎ — one of repetition.#arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

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horseshoegirl · 8 months

Text

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 18 - Sapling

📖 This is it - The one song that inspired this entire fic. It’s so bittersweet I’ve gotten to this point. When I posted Part 1: Be Still, a small part of me thought I’d never get here.

I know everyone is probably sick of me saying thank you, but I honestly cannot stop. I could have never imagined the support or the amount of people who’ve loved this story as much as I’ve loved writing it. Whether you’ve been here since I posted all those months ago or just started reading, I cannot describe how important each and every one of you is to me.

Here’s Part 18: Sapling - The one I’ve been waiting for 💛

(If there was ever a song to listen to for this story, even though I know most of you guys don't, this one is it. I hope you do💛) . It's Liz through and through/and the one after this one, but more on that later.)

❗️+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, mentions of an original child character, sexual themes, angst, fluff, deployments, apologies, and mentions of shitty family dynamics.

# 5k words

Part 17 | Masterlist | Part 19

"Attention on Deck!"

Jake and Bradley stood in sync in the empty hanger, the sound of metal chairs scraping across the hard stone floor. Much like the day they were called in for the Uranium run, the space had been turned into a mock classroom. Only two desks sat before the podium this time, and Jake and Bradley were the only ones who had been requested to report.

Jake kept his eyes forward as two pairs of footsteps echoed off the hangar floor behind him. Cyclone appeared in the corner of his eye, the man holding two manila envelopes and a thick black binder. He wondered what awaited him or Rooster in those files. While Maverick had torn them apart for the dramatic display, he wouldn't be surprised if Cyclone suddenly decided that wasn't enough.

But Jake could only think it made sense the patterns and exercises they had been flying for the past week were in preparation for something greater.

At least, he hoped they weren't getting kicked out.

But as Cyclone each tossed a folder in front of him and Bradley, Maverick trailing close behind indicated it had to be something worse. Even with his eyes facing forward, Jake could catch the look on the Captain's face out of the corner of his eye.

Worried and apprehensive.

Jake had an answer to his question. It wasn't a reprimand from his and Bradley's dangerous flying from the week previous.

This was a special deployment.

Cyclone stepped up onto the podium, not once lifting his eyes as he dropped the binder down to the wooden surface, stating, "You may be seated."

Jake and Bradley did as they were told, instantly reaching for the papers in front of them.

"Good afternoon." Cyclone finally looked up and nodded to the pair. "Intelligence has gotten word of another illegal facility violating United Nation’s Peace Treaty accords. The flight tests you and your team have been flying these past weeks were a simulation of the area we expect to the best of our intelligence."

Most of what Cyclone was saying flew over Jake’s head. Not after Cyclone explained the stakes. Not after Jake started to read the mission report. Next-generation fighter jets. In enemy hands. And they wanted an air assist while they went after the factory responsible for making them.

Even if he believed he was the best, there was too much at stake for him to say he could make it out of there unscathed confidently.

This was the literal fucking definition of a suicide run.

Rooster suddenly pipped up from beside him as Cyclone paused. "Has the rest of the Squad been briefed, sir?"

Cyclone started him down, his face emotionless. "You misunderstand me, son."

Maverick bowed his head as Cyclone continued, "Only the both of you are going. This is a two-person run."

Bradley side-eyed Jake, who leaned forward slightly to gauge his reaction. All Jake could do was draw in a sharp breath.

"Take it for what you will, gentlemen. Looks like the Navy was impressed with your reckless display and wanted to award your bad behaviour," he remarked, turning the pages of the files before him.

"Now, the factory will be taken care of by ground forces. The technology and the data within the facility are too valuable to be destroyed. We need two F-18s to assist..."

Jake began to drown him out, despite his instincts telling him otherwise. Cyclone explaining everything to them was only a formality, a chance for them to ask questions. Jake didn't need to. Everything he needed to know would be in the brief.

Time.

That's what was on Jake's mind.

How much time did he have left?

How much time did he have left to make it right?

How much did he have left to give to you? And make it up to Sadie?

He jolted slightly when Cyclone hit the edge of his binder against the edge of the podium.

"Get your affairs in order," the older man commanded, walking away. "You have till 22:00 today."

---

The thick fog settling over your neighbourhood this late at night wasn't helping your current mood. You were extremely uncomfortable at the errieness, the dimly lit street lamps casting an unreal green glow. You couldn't even see beyond the neighbours' backyard from your kitchen window.

The rest of the house was silent, too. The lack of noise indicated the place was empty, except for the occasional creek or rustle of a tree branch against the roof. You were utterly alone, with nothing but your thoughts as company.

You wish you could say it was a welcome notion.

With everything that had happened the night Tyler was arrested, Penny closed The Hard Deck for the week, waiting for the insurance money to come through. The damage wasn't as bad as it could have been, and she didn't really need to close it down, but in a way, you realized she was probably using the chance to take a break.

Or at least try to give you one.

So, she decided to go sailing. That's where Sadie was, sleeping over at her place so they could go out on the water tomorrow. Penny had offered to take you as well.

You had refused.

It was funny to think you suddenly needed to process what had happened - you had never been good at processing shit before, so why would this time change that now?

Maybe you just wanted to be alone.

Even the cup of tea you made wasn't helping, having long since gone cold and still practically full. You didn't know what to think, finally alone for the first time in a while, finally finding the opportunity to allow yourself to sit and process.

And you still couldn't bring yourself to do it.

It wasn't as if you didn't know what you should be thinking about. You were thinking about all of it... Tyler, Sadie, Jake... and..

No, not that one yet.

Each thought was laid out in your head like an itemized list, neatly written and bullet-pointed. Each stood out on their own, colour-coded and organized into categories to the point you couldn't do anything more with them. Picturing each in your mind was easy, but you couldn't bring yourself to do anything beyond that.

Something was stopping you from going deeper. Maybe you didn’t want to admit you didn’t know how.

A hard couple of knocks on your front door startled you out of your trance, echoing through the quiet house. It took you a moment to acknowledge them and realize they were, in fact, coming from your front door. You placed your mug on your kitchen table, scraping your chair along the title as you made your way to the front hallway.

It wasn’t quick enough for the person on the other side of the door, impatiently knocking their knuckles against the wood in rapid succession again. The sound quickened your pace, socked feet on the coarse rug thumping with each step.

In retaliation to the urgent knocks, you ripped the door open in an aggressive pull, only to find Jake hunched over, forearm resting on your doorframe. His head was bowed, handing low between his shoulders until he realized you had finally opened the door. Lifting his head, several emotions flashed across his face. Hope. Despair. Then, determination, with wide and wild eyes staring back at you.

You realized he was dressed in his flight suit, his hair was flicked back, and his face looked like it had been freshly shaven.

And he was panting like he had run a marathon.

“Jake?”

"I thought we would have more time," he heaved roughly. "I thought we had all the time in the world to figure this out. For me to find a million different ways to say I'm sorry for what I said. For what I did."

The corners of your mouth quivered, and your eyebrows furrowed, knitting together.

"No matter the length of time, I never would have gotten it right. Because there is no right way to apologize for what I said,” he lamented.

He opened his mouth to say something else but froze, the words dying in his throat like he suddenly lost whatever drive he had while coming here. Pushing himself off the frame, he turned towards your driveway, looking lost. With his back facing you, he reached for the bannister of your front porch, leaning over and bowing his head between shoulders.

You didn't know what else to do except remain frozen in your doorway, watching him look utterly defeated.

“Rooster and I got called up. It’s dangerous. Extremely dangerous,” he said, his voice low. “I might be the best, but even this one worries me.”

Whatever feelings of anger or resentment you had been carrying towards Jake were suddenly overpowered by concern.

Despite knowing you would never be privy to the details of the Navy, you found yourself stepping forward, a hand reaching out as you asked, “How dangerous?!”

You stopped yourself from touching his shoulder when he lifted his head, a sad smile on his face as he looked out to your yard. “You know we can’t tell you more than that, Darlin’.”

You crossed your arms below your breasts instead, gripping your elbows with a hint of apprehension as you gulped. “Do you know how long?”

He dropped his head again, shaking it while doing so. “At least a month, maybe two.”

A month, even two, was too long. Not when… You didn’t even know. You didn’t even know what to say or to do. Because Jake had hurt you, had protected you, and then shown up on your literal doorstep late at night before another deployment to leave all his cards on the table.

Sarcasm, sass, or any attitude or brave face you've ever used from behind that fucking bar couldn't save you from this. Not when Jake was facing yet another death sentence.

That fact alone made your heart break just a little bit further.

“George called me,” he told you, filling the silence. “Said the first thing he did was kick the hell bringer off the ranch. I didn’t trust him. But then Janet called, saying his name was on the deed for some tax reasons, so George had every right.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you joined him, coming to stand next to him and gripping the front railing tight. It almost hurt - the way the wood felt under your nails.

"I never expected that. I never expected George to seek me out after what I did to him either. I honestly thought he'd report home, saying the damage had been done," Jake sighed, rocking his shoulders back and forth. "But he did. And the first thing he did was admit he was scared of you."

You dropped your chin to your chest. You couldn’t deny that maybe a little bit of shame was starting to eat away at your stomach. Yelling at George was more than just you being upset at both Seresin brothers. It was a deep-seated weight you had been carrying for too long, waiting for any moment it could unleash itself. George and Jake… had been the perfect excuse to scapegoat the underlying issue you refused to acknowledge in yourself.

Jake straightened himself, turning to face you with a bated breath. You spun with him, leaving your one hand on the railing.

"He told me the reason he wanted to change was not that I had shown him up at darts or that you had torn him apart with your words, but that either one of us should’ve to begin with. You made him realize that.”

You failed to notice Jake’s hand slowly sliding along the bannister, inching closer to yours.

"My relationship with him is anything but fixed. He is more of an asshole than I could ever be. But when I told him he needed to live his own life, he said he couldn’t claim anything he had earned for himself without the hell-bringer handing it to him. Or say he did it with good intentions.”

It wasn’t a shock when Jake slid his hand over the top of yours, gently curving his fingers around your wrist. In fact, you let him, allowing him to pull you towards him as he stepped closer gently.

“But he also said he found you on the beach the night Tyler stormed the bar.”

You failed to hide your grimace at the mention of Tyler’s name, and Jake offered a sad smile. “He said he tried to make things right. Because after I quoted a dead president, he took what you said to him to heart..”

You swallowed hard, knowing just exactly what George had been referring to. It was the same point you made when you yelled at him, the words echoing in your head.

‘So you can gallivant around letting someone who has lived their life decide what you do with the rest of yours?’

And when you asked point blank on the beach the last time, he had been happy. Which was when he did something for himself.

"He's never thought highly of me, but he said meeting you and Sadie was the best damn thing I could have ever done." Jake reached for your other hand, looking down. "Because my arena has two people willing to be in it with me, no matter what I've done."

“I’ve always loved that quote,” you laughed quietly to yourself, trying to avert your eyes.

“I know,” he replied sadly. “It was in a worn book on your bookcase.”

You lift your head, finally allowing yourself to stare into his eyes. It pains you to think you had forgotten how green they were. And how easy it was to get lost in them when so much happened between you.

"I should have let you explain yourself that day."

Jake huffed a small laugh, reaching up to stroke a piece of hair away from your face. “I shouldn’t have said those words to begin with. And not that it’s worth anything, I’m so sorry they did.”

Jake doesn't drop his hand but rather cups the side of your face.

"But you deserve more than an apology on the eve of a deployment. It's not fair to you. But I have to try because there is a chance I might not be able to. Because I'm trying to listen to the advice of a ten-year-old girl who once said she believed in me.

The admission guts you. Sadie’s impact on the world and those around you would always gut you.

“So let me be honest with you now before I don’t have the chance to,” He urged, his thumb caressing under your eye and across your cheek. "I'm in love with you, Elizabeth Beck."

A strangled sob tore from your throat, attempting to pull your hand out of Jake's and your face away from his touch. He was quicker, tugging you forward into his chest with a hand on the back of your neck. You were too weak to protest, allowing yourself to be pulled towards him.

"No, you're not running from this, darlin'," he shushed you, both arms encasing themselves around your waist, preventing you from escaping. "Not this time."

You couldn't do anything but cup your face in your hands, pressing yourself against his chest and sobbing. Tilting his head down, he whispered gently against your ear, "I'm not saying it to hear it back. I'm telling you so you never doubt that I do."

Strange enough, you didn’t doubt him. Not ever - even when he had hurt you.

He kissed your collarbone once through the thick fabric of your sweater, feeling as if he had touched your bare skin. He took a deep breath under your hands, body heaving up once as he gathered the courage to continue.

“Darlin,” he whispered. “ I know I can’t ask this of you, but I can only hope you love me back. Even after… Because I know how badly I fucked up. For a split second, back at the Hard Deck, I thought you would be better off without me."

"You hurt me, Jake," you cried into his chest. "You said those things..."

"I know, darlin'," his voice sounded broken next to your ear. "I went for the things I knew you'd leave me for, not because I believed them. Just the opposite. You didn't need me in your life, in Sadie's life, when I have so much baggage following me around. You didn't need another pair of assholes tainting your life, whether it be George, the hell bringer, or myself."

You gripped his flight suit tight at his confession.

"Then Sadie cornered me on the beach. And told me to get my shit together or not bother coming around anymore. Because you two would be just fine without me," he sniffed. "And it fucking hurt coming from her."

"Oh, Bug," you coo. You're not mad at her for going against your rule.

“I can’t promise I’m not going to fuck it up again. I’m the furthest thing from perfect compared to everyone I know. But I promise, I won't stop trying to get it right or at least stop at how many times I have to apologize to you for being me.”

You hate him. You hate him.

Except you don’t.

“I brought you your favourite flowers the first time I apologized because I couldn’t offer anything else. And I cannot bring you flowers when I’m apologizing for a second time, not because tulips are currently out of season, but because a man shouldn’t do that when apologizing to the woman he loves.”

He let go of your hip to stroke a piece of your hair behind your ear before pressing his lips to your forehead, letting them rest there for a moment.

“I should give them to you just because I can,” he murmured against your skin.

As Jake pulled back from you, he reached down to the side pocket of his flight suit against his thigh, his hand a firm fist as he pulled out something attached to a balled chain.

“So, I can’t ask you to forgive me, Elizabeth. Or even to wait for me. I don’t know what will happen when I am gone. Or if I’m worth accepting an apology from.”

He grabbed your wrist gently, pulling it up between the two of you, only to press something metal into your hand. But rather than let go, he threaded his fingers through yours, keeping the object between the palms of your hands, the chain dangling between.

“But if you can still find it in your heart to trust me, trust me when I say I want you and Sadie in my life. It’s you two or nothing at all,” he croaked, before adding, “I broke my ways for a literature-loving bartender and her ten-year-old niece because they both chose me knowing I am probably the most flawed human being, besides that asshole, ever to grace their path.”

You sobbed at that.

“If I make it back…” he trailed off. You shook your head vehemently. “When you make it back…” You corrected him. Yet, a small part of you died inside when he gave you a hesitant, bittersweet smile.

“I want you to tell me your answer then.”

Jake let go of your hand, leaving behind and revealing a pair of worn dog tags, making you gasp.

“I want these to stay with you until then. So you know I’m with you. Always.”

"Jake.. I can't.." you stuttered.

He ignored you, grabbing them from your hand to grab the chain in both hands. “They’re my first pair. My current set is in my bag.”

Watching him lift and guide the chain over your head, the protest dies on your lips. The intimate act brought him close enough to feel his breath on your face. The weight of the dog tags was a new feeling on your sternum.

"You know, in basic, they scare the hell out of you with these," he said, grabbing one of them and holding it between you. "Tell you that if you crash and burn, these are the bits they use to ID whatever's left."

He glanced away, eyes briefly distant. "They find you, leave one tag, take the other." He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Guess it's also their way of grounding you, reminding you of what’s at stake."

You stared at the tags between the two of you, gulping hard.

"For me, giving you them is... it's not just some sentimental crap. It's me leaving a bit of myself with you, no matter what happens."

Your breath hitched, and as he dropped the tag, a new weight was placed on your chest. The fog around you seemed to grow thicker, and if you didn't know any better, you would have blamed it for constricting your breath.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "Jake, I... I haven't... I haven't fully dealt with losing her," you whispered, trembling.

"I know you haven't, darlin'," he mumbled, wiping away another stream of tears on your face. "And I'm only adding another burden to your plate."

Jake leaned forward to press another kiss to your forehead before peering down at your face, taking in the sheer devastation. He caressed your bottom lip, huffing affectionately, “I guess it's only fair. I broke your heart. You need to break mine, too.”

“Jake…”

As you reached out, your voice was soft, barely above a whisper. Your hands moved around to his back, sliding up against his shoulder blades. He was tall and broad. And as you tried to pull him into you, your arms didn't stretch enough. You wanted to hold to so many parts of him, latch on in hopes he wouldn't leave you so soon.

You don't know how long you stood like this, on your porch in the fog, holding on to each other. It took you a while, but you eventually realized the two of you started to sway in a silent rhythm, back and forth gently.

The action was so reminiscent of the night he drove you home. When he found you closing by yourself and swept you into his arms - before everything became so chaotic.

It makes you look back on every memory with him, like a film reel in vivid technicolour.

Water and Sand, a Mona Lisa smile. Math homework and Sadie's cheeky smile. Yellow flowers in apologetic hands. Dirty dishes and clean slates. A game of darts and an almost kiss. Walking next to mountains and trees. Poloarids, video chats, and scary moments. Fireworks on New Year's Eve, to a slow dance in safe arms.

Thunderstorms and Sadie's tears to passionate kisses. First dates, Ferris wheels, Sadie in the hospital, and Jake catching your tears. Bradley lashing out, and Jake standing by.

Purple blues and orange-reds, the sunset colours that made you cry for your sister for the first time since you don't remember when.

Looking back on what was leaves you wondering what will be.

Jake's voice cuts through the silence, faintly humming a Chris Stapleton song. Your voice is muffled against his chest. "I wanted to take you to a country concert for a date."

You felt him smile against the top of your head. "Would you have let me pick you up and put you on my shoulders?"

You huffed affectionately into the fabric of his suit, turning your head to rest your cheek against his chest. “Oh, people would have hated us for that.”

He laughs quietly. “I’m sure you would have come up with something sharp and witty to reply with.”

“Enough to get us thrown out?”

“I could always pull the military service card.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Jake chuckled softly into your hair.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, swaying on your front porch under the green-lit fog. Not that you would have noticed. You were too busy trying to imprint this into your memory. How he felt holding you, how he smelled, the sensations in your chest. Or how his heart felt beating under your ear.

Until the alarm on his watch ruined it all, and he stepped away from you, pressing another long kiss to your forehead. You felt him grimace each time he tried to pull away.

"I have to go, darlin'," he murmured. "I have to report in 30. Otherwise, I'd drag you inside and abandon my post."

I would have let you.

As Jake lets you go, you reach out to grip the railing again. Before he turns to leave, he says with a smile, "Send me letters if you can."

Watching him proceeding down your front steps, your heart ached in a way it never had before. Your hand moved to the dog tags, gripping them tightly.

The idea of losing Jake, never seeing that cocky grin or hearing his sarcastic quips again, was paralyzing. But even more terrifying was the thought of him leaving without knowing how you truly felt.

If he were to... no.

You couldn't wait. You couldn't let him leave with things unsaid. The fog outside was thick, and Jake's form was about to become a silhouette in the distance, but you wouldn't let him leave without knowing.

"Jake!"

Running down the steps of your porch, you flung yourself towards him. He spun, eyes wide as you reached for his face, hands cradling either side of his jaw as you pulled him down, pressing your lips to his.

You put everything into that kiss, struggling to breathe, fearing you would lose him before you could ever truly be with him. Jake wrapped his arms around your waist, moulding his lips to yours. And with each press, you commit them to memory, pushing away the thought this may be the last time you could.

You were already struggling to grasp the death of someone you loved. You couldn't survive a second.

Jake always kissed you like he was a man starved of affection. This time, he was holding himself back, hands deliberately resting lightly on your hips, unmoving and researching. His kisses were less than firm, hesitant against your more urgent ones.

It gave you the strength to continue pressing on.

You pulled back with a gasp, looking him square in the eyes. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to tell me you love me and expect me not to say anything. Not to call you out for your shitty perception of yourself when you, Jake fucking Seresin, are worth it."

You can feel the heat on your cheeks and more tears running freely down the sides of your face.

"I do forgive you,“ you rushed out in a breath. “I forgive you for all your faults and everything you will ever do to me, whether you are Jake Seresin or fucking Hangman. Life is short, and... and.. if I woke one morning to find you were gone, I would never find the strength to carry on had you not known that I lo.."

Jake didn't let you finish, quickly grabbing the sides of your face to kiss you roughly, all open mouth and tongue. You whimpered into his mouth, struggling to breathe and to keep up with the onslaught.

He bent you backwards, your back curling around the sudden added weight of his arm. You tugged on his flight suit in a desperate attempt to pull him closer to you as he attacked your mouth. His fingers were locked deeply into the roots of your hair behind your ear, angling your head just right so he could capture your lips in all the ways he wanted to. In all the ways he might never have the chance to do again.

Jake considered himself selfish. For most of his naval career, he had been selfish. But he never truly felt the weight of that feeling until he was trying to memorize these last moments with you. As if this was all he would ever get to have with you.

It was selfish to do this to you. To kiss you one last time.

Your body is warm under his touch. He tries to imprint the sensation.

Your kisses are firm. He tries to akin the taste.

Your grip on his suit is tight. He tries to remember the pain it creates.

Your whimpers and moans. He tries to imagine they’d be exactly what you’d sound like if he’d ever get the chance to be with you. Truly.

Or if they’d be enough to sustain his dreams.

He knows he needs to go. Needs to pull himself away from you before the next kiss, or the next touch is the one that convinces him to stay. So he tugs away first, and you chase his lips, whining at the loss of contact.

"Tell the bug she was right," it's a whisper against your lips. "And I'm sorry I disappointed her too."

Your bottom lip quivered as Jake finally wrenched himself away from you with a deep grunt. He climbed into his truck and started the engine, backing out of your driveway like a man possessed. As if one slight moment of hesitation or if he looked away from the task at hand and saw your face, he’d drag you back inside the house and lock the two of you away in your bedroom.

He would have if there were more time.

Your footsteps against the pavement were muffled in your ears as you followed his truck. You couldn't bring yourself to look away, even when you found yourself frozen at the end of your driveway, watching his red taillights fade into the fog.

And when you finally found the courage to move, absentmindedly walking back up your driveway, up your front steps to close the front door behind you, you fell against it. Your back pressed hard into the grooves and ridges as you collapsed to the floor. Your tears were falling freely, and the sobs racking your chest were each more devastating than the last. You heaved for each breath, trying to gather the strength to do anything but cry.

For Jake.

For Bradley.

For Sadie.

For Ridley.

...For yourself.

After working the heels of your hands into the corners of your eyes, you grasped for the dog tags, looking down at the worn-out pieces of metal in your palm. You could still make out his name and call sign imprinted on the surface, a finger tracing over the imprinted ridge.

The damn things were both a reminder he was still out there and could never return. A reminder he couldn’t promise more sunsets with you. A reminder there was a chance you'd never get to tell him you loved him, too.

You pressed your fingers to your lips, the other clutching his dog tags over your heart.

Come back to us, Jake.

Please.

Tag List:

@blue-aconite @tinytotontheoversizedpony @djs8891 @caitsymichelle13 @startrekfangirl2233

@mayhemmanaged @ereardon @dempy @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @daggerspare-standingby

@phantomxoxo @formulapierre @eli2447 @fulla02 @blckgrl-sunflower @mizzzpink @ohgodnotagainn

@bubblegumbeautyqueen @sarahsmi13s @desert-fern @lynnestra44 @memoriesat30 @penwieldingdreamer @mxlanciia

@bradleybeachbabe @bobby-r2d2-floyd @lavenderbradshaw @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233

@keyrani @craftytrashprincess @hisredheadedgoddess28 @abzidabzy@memeorydotcom @vicsnook @taestrwbrry

Part 19 - An Evening I Will Not Forget is being edited 👀

Wickett ;)

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maydayblake · 7 months

Note

Hey, can you where the reader is a little sister of vance hopper? And he is very over-protective for her. He always mocks her but deep down he really love his sister. He hates when she talks to other boys. She is just apposite of his brother. She is too friendly with everyone. She is in the same class where finn and robin are. And she has a crush on robin. Vance always protects her from bullies. He once broke a hand of a boy because he tried to bully his sister. ( he is just like gyutaro from demon slayer).

I hope you will write about this. I am sorry for my bad English. It's not my first language.

Protective ( Vance Hopper X Sister!Reader, Robin Arellano X Hopper!Reader )

Includes : Bullying, Brother/Sister Relationship, Teasing And Etc...

Genre : Fluff And Little Bits Of Angst

" Get up dipshit ", Vance trows a pillow at me as I groan, turning around in my bed.

" Come on, we don't have all day ", he growls out, dragging me out of bed.

" Can you leave me alone, it's Saturday ", you get up from the floor, rubbing your eyes, as your brother Vance stares at you with crossed arms.

" Do you wanna see him or not, remember I can easily tell about your crush- ", you hit him with a pillow as you go to your wardrobe, picking out an sundress.

He hated that you talked with boys and especially Robin. But he knew he couldn't do anything because she's her own person. And he respected that. But it still didn't stop him from sending glares towards them when Robin got too close.

" If he hurts you I'll break his arm, you know I'm always watching ", he turns around and leaves the room, going to Grab N Go, to play his stupid pinball stuff. I don't get it, why's he so obsessed.

Anyways. As I finished getting ready, I put on a bit of mascara, lipgloss and left the house to meet up with him.

He asked me to hang out yesterday, and I couldn't be happier. Even if it's as friends.

Finney teased me when he heard about it, and I had to smack him to shut him up. Obviously not with the intend to hurt him, just as a joke.

And as I was walking 3 girls came up to me, glaring.

" Uhh can I help you? ", you stopped walking, as you stared at the ginger haired girl.

She slowly walked towards me, before pushing me on the ground. I hiss as I landed on a rock.

" Stay away from Robin or else.. ", she threatened, I just stared up at her. Finally after 3 minutes of complete silence I spoke.

" Or else what? He's his own person, he can hang out with who he wants, and you can't stop me ", I try to reason with her. She just laughed before the two other girls came behind me and grabbed my arms.

" What the- GET OFF ", I scream as I start kicking around. The girl just smirked at me before kicking me in the stomach. I groaned in pain. She kept kicking and kicking, and just as she was about to punch me. With her hand raised she was stopped.

She looked behind her to see Vance, standing there glaring daggers at her.

" Stay the fck away from my sister, or else... ", he threatened. The girl shook in fear as she nodded relentlessly.

He let go of her hand, and her and her minions ran away. I was laying on the ground groaning in pain. He kneeled down.

" You okay? What'd they want? ", he looked genuinely worried. I just gave him a small smile as he helped me stand up.

" They thought I was someone else, I'm fine... ", I lied, he just raised his eyebrow, not believing me.

He knew I was a soft person, if someone hurt me, I'd still want to protect them. That's what he hated most about me. The fact that we are polar opposites.

Vance would not hesitate to punch someone for messing up his game. And you - you wouldn't hurt a fly even if you wanted to.

He didn't push it any further as to not upset her. He just gave her a small nod and started walking with her to where Robin was standing. To make sure no one came up to her with the intend to hurt her anymore.

And as soon as they arrived, he gave him a glare and left.

Robin smiled at her, sending butterflies to her stomach.

" You ready to go? " he asked the girl. She just nodded and then they we're on their way.

She groaned a few times, probably the bruises forming from where she was punched but she didn't say anything.

Robin noticed.

" You okay? Did something happen? ", he asked the girl as he stood in front of her, taking her hands.

She just stared at him. Finally she nodded, giving him a smile. Trying to convince everything was fine.

" I know you better than that Y/N, was it those girls? ", so he knew them?

" Yeah, but it's fine, I handled it ", I lied, and by the looks of his face, you can see he didn't believe me one bit.

" Amber likes me, she confessed to me a week ago, and I rejected her. I guess she didn't take the hint. Look, if she hurts you again, come to me, I'll handle it ", he spoke softly as he laid his hands on my shoulders. Staring into my eyes.

" You're not gonna hurt her are you? ", he laughed before shaking his head.

" I don't hurt girls, I'm not like that. But I'll talk to her, make sure she gets the hint this time, like I said, I got it covered. ", I smiled at him as a thank you. He took my hand in his and we walked off.

#tbp x reader #the black phone #robin arellano #finney blake #vance hopper #robin arellano x reader

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sailor-aviator · 6 months

Text

Sailor-Aviator's Playlist Writing Challenge

Hello, hello!! Welcome back to another writing challenge! This one also had a lot of votes in the poll I posted, so I figured why not go ahead and release it?

The Concept

I have what some might call an eclectic music taste. What does that mean? I like a bit of just about everything! So, I compiled a list of songs from my playlists that I thought might make good fanfic inspiration! As with my Christmas Challenge, there will be a limited number of spots for each song! Just send me a DM/ask telling me which song you'd like to choose and for which Top Gun character you'd like to write for!

The Rules

You may sign up for more than one slot as long as there are slots available. However, you can not take up two slots for the same song.

Tag your fics appropriately! (Angst, smut, fluff, warnings, etc.)

18+ ONLY!

This can be a series, a one-shot, moodboards, or even a collection of drabbles! Just have fun with it!

You MUST use your song in some way in the fic. For example, if your song is Two Doors Down by Dolly Parton, then you could write about going to a party or about being a Dagger's neighbor.

HAVE FUN!!!

This writing challenge will not have a time limit, and you can sign up whenever you want! When you are finished (or started the series/collection), you can shoot me the link so I can tag it below. Also, please tag me in the fic and tag the challenge! The more the merrier! Now, there are some popular artists on here, but I encourage EVERYONE to listen to ALL the songs before making your decisions!! I will add more songs if I need to as well!

Tagging a couple of mutuals who I think would be interested: @goldenseresinretriever @bobgasm @mamachasesmayhem @hangmansgbaby @jupitercomet @seresinhangmanjake @number-0-iz

The Playlist

Songs below the cut!

Two Doors Down by Dolly Parton

@aworldinsideaperson w/ Jake Seresin

@alegendoftomorrow w/ the Dagger Squad

Ends of the Earth by Lord Huron

alegendoftomorrow w/ Bradley Bradshaw

Work Song by Hozier

@devil-angel-winchester w/ Bradley Bradshaw

Darling by Halsey

@goldenseresinretriever w/ Tom Kazansky

The Death of Peace of Mind by Bad Omens

Stolen by Dashboard Confessional

Youth by Troye Sivan

Get on the Road by Tired Pony

Littlething by Jimmy Eat World

The Saltwater Room by Owl City

Enchanted by Taylor Swift

@shinycupcakebaker w/ Bob Floyd

@seresinsbrat w/ Bradley Bradshaw

Georgia by Vance Joy

I'll Be by Edwin McCain

@powellssugarbaby w/ Jake Seresin

@sweetwhispersofchaos w/ Bob Floyd

Love is a Battlefield by Pat Benatar

New Religion by The Heydaze

@aworldinsideaperson w/ Bradley Bradshaw

alegendoftomorrow w/ Jake Seresin

She Burns by Foy Vance

Shrike by Hozier

Dancing With the Devil by Short Stack

Like Real People Do by Hozier

Shut Up and Dance by WALK THE MOON

Bright by Echosmith

Someone to You by BANNERS

WILD by Troye Sivan

Stay With Me by ayokay

Iris by Jada Forcer

goldenseresinretriever w/ Tom Kazansky

Sunshine by Short Stack

Tell Her You Love Her by Echosmith

aworldinsideaperson w/ Bradley Bradshaw

alegendoftomorrow w/ Bob Floyd

Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac

Too Late to Turn Back Now by Cornelius Brothers and Sister Rose

Leather and Lace by Stevie Nicks

Mine by Taylor Swift

@bellaireland1981 w/ Bradley Bradshaw

alegendoftomorrow w/ Bradley Bradshaw

Landslide by Fleetwood Mac

Burn You Down by Short Stack

Jolene by Dolly Parton

@dingochef w/ Jake Seresin

Pretty Carolina by Jontha Links

Sleep on the Floor by The Lumineers

aworldinsideaperson w/ Bob Floyd

Style by Taylor Swift

Out of the Woods by Taylor Swift

You and Me by Lifehouse

@bobgasm w/ Bob Floyd

seresinsbrat w/ Jake Seresin

Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac

aworldinsideaperson w/ (TBD)

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tightjeansjavi · 1 year

Text

Burning in a Hopeless Dream

Boston QZ : part 8 ‘Dust to Dust’

A/N: I sat down and wrote this all in one go. I literally could not stop writing. The words just kept flowing and this is just going to be one cluster fuck of emotions.

Summary: A winter blizzard has you and Joel trapped in the apartment together. You’re worried about Tess as she hasn’t been home in days. To calm you down, Joel suggests you have some whiskey with him.

~work count : 5.3k~

Warnings: age gap (m/c is 28) angst, trauma, PTSD, triggering themes, drinking to cope, graphic mentions of death, loss, child death, angst, lots of swearing, repressed feelings, unestablished relationship, mild violence, emotional trauma, angry outbursts, feelings of guilt, pain, comfort, soft ! joel, feelings of agony, angry ! joel (+18) minors dni !

Songs for this chapter :

“Dust to Dust” by The Civil Wars

“my tears ricochet” by Taylor Swift

“I’m with You” by Vance Joy

“After the Storm” by Mumford and Sons

“evermore” by Taylor Swift

“Rescue” by Lauren Daigle

“Sign of the Times” by Harry Styles

___________________

December 24th 2020 : Boston QZ

Winter was already proving to be unforgiving this year. The Boston QZ had been hit with a 4 day blizzard. It was like something out of the movies. You weren’t even sure how many feet of snow had fallen already. The wind was howling and the blowing snow was creating a thick wall. Opaque and ferocious, this blizzard had enveloped the city into darkness. Tess had gotten caught up in the storm days ago. Joel insisted that she head home with him before the storm worsened but she had something to finish. Rather, someone. He trusted his partner enough to find shelter if things turned for the worst so he had headed home. Tess was too tough to let some snow take her out. She had managed to seek shelter elsewhere with a few other QZ residents that were waiting out the storm.

It was just you and Joel in the apartment now. He showed no signs of concern if Tess had survived the brunt of the storm. He was the most relaxed you had seen him in months. He was laying on the couch, his head resting comfortably against the pillow with his arms crossed over his chest. His broken watch is facing towards you. He wasn’t exactly asleep, just resting his eyes.

You were sitting on the floor across from him, your back against the wall with your nose buried deep in a book. It was the only viable distraction for you to not think about Tess, and her chance of survival. The book you were reading was titled, “Wuthering Heights” by Emily Brontë. The pages were worn and some were even torn. You appreciated the foot notes that the previous owner had left. You could tell whoever owned this book, adored it deeply. You wondered if that person had made it out alive, and if they did, did they miss this book as much as you imagined them to? You found yourself enveloped in the story of Catherine and Heathcliff. A tragic romance nonetheless. You would describe their love as being soulmates. Their love existed on a higher, spiritual plane. Two people who have an affinity for one another. This affinity draws them together, irresistibly. You recount all the times Heathcliff refers to Catherine as his soul. His fucking soul.

Heathcliff reminds you of Joel, in some aspects. It’s their broodiness, you first thought. Their passion for the ones they love. Heathcliff was dealt challenging hands, yet his love for Catherine was undeniable. He was cruel, vindictive and he sought revenge. You didn’t think Joel carried these traits. Or perhaps, it was your heart trying to convince you that Joel Miller was a good man. You stop at the part where Heathcliff finds his Catherine on her death bed. The words he has spoken are chilling.

‘You teach me how cruel you’ve been-cruel and false. Why did you despise me? Why did you betray your own heart, Cathy? I have not one word of comfort–you deserve this. You have killed yourself. Yes, you may kiss me and cry and wring out my kisses and tears. They’ll blight you– they’ll damn you. You loved me-then what right had you to leave me? What right- answer me for the poor fancy you felt for Linton? Because misery, and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, you of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart-you have broken it- and in breaking it, you have broken mine. So much worse for me, That I am strong. Do I want to live? What kind of living will it be when you- oh, God would you like to live with your soul in the grave?’ You slammed the book shut. It was too much and you decided then that Heathcliff was a monster. Your Joel was nothing like him. You couldn’t imagine him acting like this, speaking to Tess, or you on your deathbed in this fashion? You hadn’t realized a stray tear had rolled down your cheek and when you felt it, you quickly wiped it away. Heathcliff’s undying love for Catherine turned him cold, unforgiving, and violent.

The sound of the book slamming shut was enough for Joel to open his eyes, turning his head slightly to look over at you. He had a deep frown on his face. Had you been crying? He had seen you wipe the tear away.

You had set the book down to the side then, pushing it far away as you processed what you had just read. You hadn’t even noticed that Joel was awake now. That he had seen you wipe a tear. You were too consumed in Catherine and Heathcliff to notice.

You turned your head to the side, resting it against the wall and you listened to the howling wind. Finally, you spoke. “Joel? Are you awake?..”

He closed his eyes then, breathing in through his nose and exhaled softly before he slowly sat up. “Yeah, Doll.” He rasped. “I’m up. ‘You alright over there?” His Texas accent was thick, and it melted through your body like warm whiskey. Coating your senses in a figurative blanket. Warm, and familiar.

“Is Tess going to be alright? It’s been days and the storm hasn’t let up and what if she–”

He cut your ramblings off then.

“Gwen. Take it easy, breathe. She’s g’nna be alright. It’s Tess. She ain’t gonna let some snowstorm take her out.” He was looking at you then but your eyes were still trained on the window.

“Hey, look at me. Gwen?” His voice was soft but his tone held some urgency. He didn’t want you worrying your mind over things that were out of your control.

Slowly, you looked over at him. His brown eyes were soft, and inviting.

“You gotta trust me when I tell you that she’s g’nna be fine. Trust me.”

You nodded then. Appreciating his reassurance in that moment because truthfully, you were absolutely terrified for Tess’s safety.

“Good girl.” He placed his hands on his knees as he slowly rose from the couch and his footsteps headed into the kitchen. Your eyes followed his back, watching him.

“Where are you going?..”

He paused then. Turning to face you. He had never seen you this way before. You looked so fragile, so delicate unlike your normal sarcastic self. Where was that part of you now? In that moment, he missed your smart mouth, your banter and witty remarks.

“Nowhere, Doll. ‘Jus g’nna grab some whiskey and a couple glasses. You look like you could use a drink.”

You let out a sigh of relief. Rationally, you knew there was nowhere for Joel to go. Your fear was eating away at you, bit by bit. Fear was clouding your sense of rationale and you didn’t know how to control it.

He returned to you then. Sliding a glass onto the coffee table and poured a splash of the amber liquid into it. He motioned you over then before he sank down into the couch once more and poured his own glass. “C’mon. We’re gonna take our minds off of the situation that we can’t control, alright? Drink with me, Doll.”

You watched as the liquid splashed into your glass before you had scooted over to the coffee table. Sitting down on the other side of it, facing him with your elbows resting on the worn wood. You picked up the glass then, swirling the liquid around. Before you could take a sip, Joel had leaned over the table, his glass outstretched to you and his eyes focused on yours. You followed his motion and clinked your glasses together before you brought the rim of your glass to your lips and took a sip. The whiskey tasted like how you imagined Joel’s kisses did. Smoky, sweet, and absolutely fucking addicting.

“I see why you enjoy this stuff.” There was a hint of a smile over the rim of your glass.

“Yeah?. It ain’t half bad. ‘Nothin like the stuff I used to drink back in Austin. Some of the best whiskey I have ever had was from Texas. Would never say that outloud to any Kentuckians, they’d probably shoot me on the spot.” He chuckled a little then as he took a sip, far larger than yours.

You stifled a laugh then, shaking your head at his comment.

“Well, it’s a good thing there’s no Kentuckians around to hear your blasphemy, huh?”

He nodded then, holding his glass between his knees, against his thigh comfortably as he looked at you.

“Yeah, thank fuck for that. I think they’re just afraid to admit that Texas just does everything better.”

You took another sip then, this one bigger. You wanted to feel the familiar burn in your stomach.

“Easy there, cowboy.”

He raised his eyebrow at you then. “Mmm. It's alright, Doll. You Chicagoans wouldn’t understand good whiskey if it slapped ya in the face.”

He brought his glass back up to his lips, smirking over the rim at you.

“Ohh. I see how it is. Well, fine. You may have the best Whiskey, but we have deep dish Pizza, and a fucking gigantic, BEAN.”

Joel let out a deep chuckle then, shaking his head as he took another sip. The liquor was already warming him up in a physical sense, but you were warming his soul without even realizing it.

“Deep dish pizza sounds like a fuckin heart attack on a damn plate. The ‘hell is someone supposed to do with a giant bean?”

You laughed then. It was a small one but it was undeniably, your sweet laugh.

“Oh, it WAS a heart attack on a plate man but god, it was so good! Friday nights were our order out nights and we used to get Lou Malnati’s like, every other week? Shit was so good, Joel. The cheese was endless and the crust? It was so buttery and flakey. Melted in your mouth. As for the bean, you don’t do anything with it! It’s just Chicago's most famous landmark. Serious tourist attraction. If you didn’t visit the BEAN, you weren’t doing Chicago justice.”

He took another sip then as he listened to your laugh, your voice as you recounted a memory of the past. “I’m sorry Doll, but endless amounts of cheese sounds like a terrible fuckin time to me. This so-called BEAN sounds interesting though. I’ll give you that.”

“If you're lactose intolerant then that insane amount of cheese is most definitely, NOT a good idea.”

He took another sip then and he was enjoying the fact that you were comfortable enough to talk about these things and he hoped that in doing so, you weren’t thinking about the storm any longer.

“So Chicago has heart attack pizza, and a giant bean. Anything else I should know about it?”

You paused then. Recounting your 11 short years in the city like it was just yesterday. There was so much more you had wanted to see and experience.

“I um, I only lived there till I was eleven. On outbreak day, my family and I headed north. As far north as we could go. My uncle had a horse ranch in Michigan. It was close to the Canadian border. I stayed there till I was 20.” You had taken a big sip of the liquor then. This was the first time you had ever spoken about your experience when the world as you knew it came to an end.

Joel was frozen on the spot. Your confession was not something he had been expecting and it hit him like a ton of fucking bricks that you were only a year younger than Sarah when she– he polished off his glass then. Chucking the liquor down his throat, and pouring himself another shortly after. He splashed a bit more into your glass as well.

“I’m sorry Doll. We don’t have to talk about this stuff. I don’t wanna go and make you upset or anythin.” He was careful with his choice of words and the tone he used. He could tell just by your demeanor, that this was a sensitive topic for you.

In response, you took a bigger sip of the whiskey, waving your hand slightly and shaking your head. “No, Joel. It's fine. Really. I want to talk about it, if that’s alright? I just–this is the first time I have spoken to anyone about it.”

He nodded then and rested the glass against his thigh once more. “Sure we can talk about it, Doll. Whatever makes you comfortable, alright? So, the horse ranch that your uncle owned, what was it like?”

This was a side of Joel that you never thought you’d see. He was so gentle, so understanding and this is why your comparison of Joel to Heathcliff, was false.

“Oh, it was wonderful. I’d go up there every Summer for a few months. The first time I was on a horse was when I was 7. Had been around them since I was a little thing, according to my mom. Anyway, my uncle bred Quarter Horses. You have those in Austin, right?”

He nodded then.

“We had a few Mustang’s as well. Rescued them from a kill pen down south. Some other livestock as well. There was one quarter horse that was my absolute favorite. Her name was Honey. She was a Palomino with the softest dappling. She was the sweetest soul, Joel. I’d be mucking out stalls, doing my usual chores and she’d just follow me around. We were best friends. She taught me so much and–” You paused then, tears beginning to well in your eyes at the memory.

Joel set his glass down on instinct and leaned over the table, gently grabbing your soft hands in his larger ones. “Hey. Hey, Gwen. ‘It’s alright. You’re okay Doll, ‘m right here, okay? I’m right here.”

You sniffled a little then feeling a spark of electricity when he had ever so gently grabbed your hands. You could see the worry strike across his face as you had teared up.

“She died 5 years after the outbreak. I was sixteen then. Some raiders came through in the middle of the night that winter. Shot her and–most of the others. I was fucking devestated. Who the hell just shoots an animal, a pet like that, Joel? Then I remembered that all morals were lost after the outbreak. No one gave a shit about a fucking horse.” You spat the last part out. You had lost so much after the world ended and Joel had no idea just what you had to endure to survive.

His hands gently squeezing yours was enough to bring you back down to reality. You took notice of his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the back of your hands. His knees were pressed firmly against the coffee table.

“Gwen, I'm so sorry about Honey. She sounds incredible. I’m sure your bond with her was unbreakable. Horses are incredibly intuitive creatures, ya know. She loved you Gwen, I'm sure of it.”

You let a few tears slip then from his affirmation. You couldn’t help it and Joel had let go of your one hand to gently brush your tears away. He found himself gently holding your cheek in his warm palm, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb.

“Yeah, you’re right. She did love me, and I still love her.” You subconsciously found yourself leaning into his comforting touch, your eyes closing momentarily as you took a deep breath and looked up at him, your eyes glassy.

“Joel, I’m not sure I can say much more.”

He nodded then, still gently holding your face, afraid that if he let go, you would shatter.

“That’s’alright darlin. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to, okay? Just, tell me if there’s anythin else I should be doing to comfort you.”

You grabbed your glass then, downing the contents quickly before you reached for the bottle of whiskey and poured more into your glass. The buzz coming on was definitely a slow fucking burn.

“After she died, things just started to get worse. By the time I was 20, our family members were being picked off. If it wasn’t infected, it was raiders or natural causes. It’s like we were plagued or somethin. We thought we were safe just from how remote the area was. We weren’t near any major cities or anything like that. We were practically out in the wilderness.”

You had a slight flush to your cheeks now from the amount of liquor you had consumed and before your brain could stop you, you were reaching up and brushing your fingertips against his plush lips. When you realized what you had done, your eyes had gone wide and you went to move your fingers but Joel had reached out and gently grabbed your wrist holding your hand in place.

“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have.”

“Gwen, you’re okay. You don’t have to apologize for anything, okay?” He breathed out. Selfishly, he didn’t want your touch to cease. He was afraid that at any moment now you would pull away from him completely.

You watched with a drunk gaze as he gently set your wrist back down on the coffee table and you took another sip. Starting to feel the full effects of the whiskey taking place.

“Joel, tell me something about you, please. Anything. Doesn’t have to be super personal. Just, anything you feel comfortable with.”

Joel was a little stunned that you had wanted to know anything about him. He didn’t think you wanted to be close to him at all, in any sense.

“Alright, anything at all?” He cleared his throat then, recounting the years before the outbreak and what he missed the most, that wouldn’t give away too much about himself.

“I used to be a carpenter. My younger brother, Tommy was one as well. We’d take just about any job. Whatever pays the bills, right? I enjoyed it for the most part. The real bummer was the weird fuckin hours we worked but I enjoyed bein on my feet and having something to do.”

“You were a carpenter?” You slurred slightly, the rim of the glass was resting against your forehead gently.

“I was, yeah. Why? Do I not look like the carpenter type?”

You shook your head then, setting the glass down and pushed it far away.

“Took you more for the lumberjack type honestly.”

Joel chuckled then, he had gently released your hands from his grip then when he deemed you were mentally stable again and he leaned back against the couch, his arm resting along the back of it now, with his drink in hand.

“Coming from you, I’ll go ahead and take that as a compliment. Cause I’m sure that’s what you meant it as.”

You had 100% meant it more than a compliment but these were just your drunk words talking, right? You had the whiskey to use for an excuse.

“What do you miss most from the past? Or, what do you think about the most?” You asked.

Joel paused then as the conversation dipped back down into a heavier one.

“What do I miss the most?” ‘My daughter’, he thought to himself

He couldn’t tell you about Sarah. It was too soon, too painful of memories to bring up. If he told you about how his daughter died in his arms 17 years ago, he’d be opening up to you entirely. The thought of him doing this terrified him.

So he did what he did best, he lied. “A good, American style cheeseburger and a pack of cold ones, on ice.” he said as he took another long sip of his whiskey.

You laughed then, nearly snorting through your nose because that was the most Joel answer he could have given you.

“Are you fucking serious? A good American style cheeseburger and a pack of cold ones? Man, that was literally the most Texas thing I think you have ever said to me.”

“You bet your ass that’s what I miss the most, ‘darlin.” He winked then, for good measure. He was starting to feel his own buzz come on and his cheeks were looking flushed like yours.

Did he just fucking wink at you or were you really that drunk that you were hallucinating things now?

“You’re fuckin unbelievable, Miller.”

You polished off your glass then and by your slight sway as you sat on the floor, Joel could tell you had tipped over the edge a bit so he did the right thing and grabbed your empty glass and pushed it to the far side of the table along with the bottle.

“Can I get you some water or somethin, doll?”

You shook your head then, very slowly.

“Nope, I’m good, no water for me. Appreciate the offer though. can I—would it be alright if I came and sat by you?”

His eyebrow slightly raised in your direction and his heart fucking skipped a beat when you asked if you could come sit by him. Alcohol made you nervous, and ballsy at the same fucking time. What a dangerous combination.

He nodded then, patting the empty spot on the couch next to him.

You slowly rose from where you were sitting on the floor and made your way over to the couch, plopping down beside him with a thud. His fingers that were resting along the back of the couch were now lightly grazing your shoulder and he couldn’t help but gently grasp at your shirt, sliding the material through his fingers. He was so dangerously close now you could nearly taste the whiskey on his breath.

“You cold?” He asked when he noticed you shiver slightly, it was a different kind of shiver, the good kind.

“No. No. I’m good.”

He didn’t listen and reached behind him, grabbing the thick quilt and draping it over you gently then.

“If ‘m overstepping, just let me know. I’ve had this question on my mind for, well, let’s just say awhile. What’re all your tattoos mean? I’ve uh-seen a few, here and there.” His tone sounded nervous. Why was he nervous? It was just a simple, normal question after all. It was the close proximity that you were to him that was really tripping him up.

“Oh, you’ve noticed them, huh?” You had the tiniest smirk on your lips then as you looked at him. The alcohol made you all warm and fuzzy inside, but the way Joel was looking at you now, had the same effect. This one was even more intense.

You sat up then, rolling up the sleeves of your hoodie. You had an array of wildflowers on your forearm, above it on your bicep was a small horseshoe and when you turned your arm around, you had your zodiac sign written out, ‘Aries’ you then rolled your jeans up your ankle revealing a knife slicing through a rose. The biggest shock of all is when you had turned your back to him and slowly lifted the bottom of your sweatshirt. In the middle of your lower back, higher than a tramp stamp, was a single, delicate butterfly.

He nearly sucked in a breath at the sliver of exposed skin but you had turned around again before he had a chance to brush his fingers against it.

“The horseshoe means the most to me. Got it after Honey died. The rest of them were pretty much my fuck it, the world has ended and I’ve got nothing to lose, choices.”

“Well, I think they’re all pretty fuckin cool. Thought about gettin a few myself at one point but never pulled the trigger on it.”

“Damn.” You said, slightly disappointed. “You definitely could have rocked a sleeve or somethin, I bet.”

“There ain’t no way. You’re just being nice for nothin.” He chuckled.

“No, no! I’m serious. You’d look good.”

He cleared his throat a little then. “Where the hell did you manage to find someone to tattoo you in the middle of the fucking end of the world?”

“My cousin was actually a tattoo artist. He had to make his own tattoo gun from scratch but honestly, he did a good enough job for the materials he had.”

He nodded then.

“Well, if on the off chance we ever run into a tattoo artist in this god forsaken, shit hole of a world, I’ll get a tattoo.”

“Oh bull fuckin shit man, you won’t. You’re serious?” You totally believed that Joel was completely shitting you there’s no way he’d really go and do that.

“I’m dead serious. We find one and I'll get a tattoo. Swear on what’s left of my life.” Based off his tone alone, you could tell he really wasn’t bluffing so you grasped each other's hands, and shook on it.

“I’ll hold you to it, Miller.”

______

You weren’t sure how much time had passed with how easily your chatter together had flowed. You both found yourselves leaning in towards each other and his fingers hadn’t moved from the spot on your shoulder. The chemistry was undeniable. You just got on together so well and now it seemed like you both weren’t trying to fight it. You were just letting it happen.

There was always one question simmering in your mind. Why did Joel constantly wear a broken watch? You had no idea that asking him this question would have consequences. If you had known this, you would have never asked.

You couldn’t help it, the alcohol was still bubbling in your gut and you didn’t think it was a terrible question to ask. Boy, were you wrong.

“Joel? Why do you always wear that broken watch on your wrist?” It was just a question, a simple question. One that anyone would ask.

Joel immediately tensed up. As soon as, ‘broken watch’ slipped past your pretty lips, it was like it all came rushing back at once. Like he was constantly being knocked into a treacherous wave, gasping for air but never reaching the surface. A figurative knife had been twisted into his gut, sending white hot pain surging through his veins. His ears had started to ring as he recounted his baby girl's screams. The bullets whizzing past, her body tumbling into the dry grass. “C’mon baby girl, I gotta get you up.” The look on Tommy’s face as he watched his brother hold his dead daughter, clutched against his chest, sobbing.

He didn’t even hear you ask him if he was okay. He could hear her screams getting louder, and louder. The bullets, her body tumbling, her blood, lifeless eyes, Tommy, help me. The bullets, her body tumbling, her blood, the bullets. The bullets. The bullets. Her body—

“DON’T FUCKIN TOUCH ME!”

Joel’s sudden, loud and almost pained outburst, had you stumbling against the back of the couch, like a frightened animal.

“Joel I’m sorry— I didn’t know I’m sorry I should have never asked you.”

He looked over at you slowly then, his eyes were stinging with tears that he refused to let spill over and he couldn’t hold it back.

“Why do I fuckin wear this watch, Gwen? You really want to know?” He spat out.

“Joel no, it’s okay I don’t need to know I’m—”

“My dead fucking daughter gave me this watch on my 36 birthday, 17 fucking years ago. She went and got it fixed for me because she knew I’d never go and do it myself. She died bleeding out in my fucking arms and you wanna know what killed her?” He seethed.

“Not cordyceps.” “The fucking military shot her down, in my arms. THE FUCKING MILITARY SHOT US WHEN WE WEREN’T INFECTED. SHE HAD A TWISTED FUCKING ANKLE AND THEY SHOT HER!”

He yelled out, almost in a wail tone and he picked up the empty glass and threw it at the wall as hard as he could, it shattered into a million tiny pieces on impact. You were fucking stunned, and trembling now as his gaze hardened on you.

“So there you go. I hope that fucking answers your goddamn question.” He was breathing heavily, seeing red behind his eyes and when he saw you trembling, he wanted to laugh but instead, it came out more like a choked sob. This man was absolutely broken in front of you and all you could do was watch.

“She died in my fucking arms, on my goddamn birthday. You wanna know what I did after that, huh? Sweet Gwen?” He leaned towards you then, his tone was husky and low.

“I got my revenge on every single one of those motherfuckers. You wanna know how many men I killed, baby? How many innocent lives I yanked away? I’m a murderer, Gwen. I’m a fuckin cold blooded killer.”

“Even after all the bloodshed on my hands, it still wasn’t enough. There’s a massive fuckin hole in my heart that ain’t ever gonna be filled because she’s gone, she’s fuckin gone and she ain’t ever coming back. They took her from me.” He sobbed. “They took my beautiful fuckin baby girl from me!” He picked up the other glass and threw it at the wall in the same manner as the other and when he reached for the bottle, your hand had gently grasped his wrist, ceasing his movements.

“I said don’t fuckin TOUCH ME!”

“Joel.”

“JOEL.”

“Joel. Listen to me, listen to me, please!” You pleaded, begging him to come back to you. It absolutely shattered you inside to see him like this. You felt so fucking guilty for asking him about the watch. This was all your fault, you said to yourself. All you’re fucking fault.

He was already pulling his wrist from your grasp, his breaths were shallow and his eyes were wide, and frantic.

You tightened your grip on his wrist then, your other hand reached out and grabbed his face, gently holding it between your fingers, the stubble from his beard was tickling the soft skin on your palm.

“Joel.” You spoke softer this time, hoping to ease him down from his trauma response.

“Joel, look at me, please. You’re okay. I’m right here. You’re okay.”

He met your gaze then, his skin had a slight sheen to it from the sweat building up on it and his lips were moving but no words were coming out. He was truly broken.

“You’re okay, Joel. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here.” You reassured him.

A few stray tears had spilled from his eyes and he was already trying to vigorously wipe them away. This was too vulnerable for him. This was too much. Too much for him to handle. Too soon. Too fast. Too everything.

He suddenly found himself grasping for you, breaking his wrist free, only to wrap his arms around you, nearly knocking the wind out of you from how hard he had hugged you. He hugged you like his life depended on it. He was afraid that if he let go, you’d disappear into thin air. His hard, rough exterior was melting away before your very eyes.

You gently found yourself grasping the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair, feeling how soft it really was. He leaned into your touch, grasping onto your waist harder. You swore you’d have bruises left behind from how hard his fingertips were holing onto you.

“I’m right here. I’m right here, Joel. Always going to be here.”

You refused to let eachother go till you could feel his heartbeat return to normal, till his fingers loosened their grip around your waist. Soon his touch was gone all together and the couch felt cold and empty without his presence. All that was left was the smell of his whiskey, and a sizzled out flame, depleted of oxygen, dying in the pit of your soul.

You heard the bedroom door slam shut shortly after as you pulled your knees up to your chest, processing everything that had just happened.

One thing was for certain, nothing was ever going to be the same after tonight.

CHAPTER 9:

178 notes · View notes

ellemfaoh · 2 years

Text

Pinball, Hair, and Detention Pt. 4 | Vance Hopper x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (here)

Word Count: 6.7k

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Rivalry, Angst, Fluff

Content Warnings: Kidnapping, Swearing, Female Reader Implied/Mentioned, Descriptors of character deaths, Blood, Beatings

Summary: Reader and Vance have some sort of ongoing rivalry. You accidentally spilled your drink on his hair and he in turn gave you a “fresh cut.” You one day get detention together due to fighting. On the walk home one day— where you both live merely a block away, he barely misses your abduction and watches as you helplessly get carried away in a black van.

A/N: We finally hit the climax of the story!!!! AND THE END!!!! Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoyed <3

——————————————

You heard the click and hum of the basement lights flick on, bleary and groggy eyes forcing themselves open as you sat up. What did he want with you this time? You turned and looked over at the window. Sunset. What day was it again? Was it meal time? As the door opened, you sighed and turned over. You didn’t want to look at him right now. That cable you found crammed under the wall should be used for something. Could you trip him? Keep him down long enough to get out? You didn’t know.

“Hey kid, what’s your name?”

You turned and looked over at him, an annoyed expression on your face. “I bet there are missing posters posted around town already. If you wanna know so bad, go outside.”

His silhouette was unclear, a foggy orange light behind him keeping you from seeing him entirely. You could make out the horns on his head though. The Grabber kept standing there, an annoyed chuckle coming from him. He must’ve been getting itchy for the kill, but like Billy said; he wanted to play a game.

“I must admit, you’re way more feisty than the last two. They just lied through their teeth.” Walking forward, his mask wore a deep frown. You knew he was probably still annoyed at you for that stunt you pulled—but man that was creepy. “Less of a naughty girl after that lesson earlier, huh?”

Silence loomed over you both, a staring match seeming to take place as he threw a newspaper at the ground before you. “I would’ve appreciated an answer though.” He gave a slight chuckle and said, “I almost considered letting you go, too.” as he left.

You quickly crawled over to the paper on the floor and held it in your hands, a big print of your school yearbook picture accompanied by Billy and Griffin’s on the front page labeled ‘MISSING.’ All you could do was let the tears silently fall from your eyes, hugging the newspaper to yourself as if it was the last lifeline you had to get out of this place. You looked around the room and got up, placing the newspaper face up by the phone, getting up to walk over to where you kept the cable stored. You’d find a way out, whether you had to kill him before he got you or if you had to painstakingly dig yourself out.

As you walked over to the toilet in the weird hallway, you looked at the rugs. You couldn’t really do anything with these. Maybe stand higher on them and try to get yourself up to the window. You pondered for a second, then another. You could maybe try knocking the man out too. The toilet tank lid could probably do some serious damage. It was a little heavy though…

“Fuck this!” You shouted, kicking at the rugs and squatting, holding your head in your hands. You were probably going crazy very slowly. “Griffin, Paperboy, either of you, help me out.” You murmured, rocking slowly on the balls of your feet.

——————

Vance was panting heavily, dismounting off the bike and hiding it in a bush nearby before running the rest of the way down the block to the house the man parked at. He never thought he’d be able to do this—it was all a hopeless dream to rescue you, right? Some weird fantasy where you forgive him for saving you from your hell and he feels better about himself?

“God, you’re getting soft Vance.” He said to himself, “you watched her get taken and the cops aren’t doing shit. You’re helping. You aren’t guilty.”

Jogging up the street, Vance made a mental note of the house number, even deciding to carve it into something on him. His shoe sole would have to do the trick. He’d come back later tomorrow, hoping and praying you’re still alive by tomorrow—or he’d stake out the place tonight, hiding amongst the bushes around the neighboring houses as he waited for the man to leave the house so he could get in and get you out. Maybe he’d even wait and get revenge for you all by murdering the sick bastard. For now, he just needed to give Bruce Yamada his bike and get some stuff.

Just as the blonde started making his exit to get the fuck out of there and enact his action plan, the front door of the house opened. It was more reflex than anything, but Vance dove into the nearest bush to hide, effectively scratching himself up a bit. He had to bite his tongue to keep himself from making any noise—which was a bit hard since he had a few thorns stuck to him. As Vance looked through the leaves, he noticed something. Wait a minute, that’s not the fucking Grabber.

“Al, you really need to clean up your fucking cans man, they smell like shit!”

“Max quit complaining and just dump the trash, nobody is around sniffing them like they’re fuckin’ dasies!”

‘He’s living with someone?’ Vance asked himself, making as little movement as possible. ‘An accomplice? Family?’

As soon as Max left, Vance climbed out of the bush, brushed himself off, and left. How was he going to get into the house if another person was living there as well? He was going to need to do way more planning. Grabbing Bruce’s bike, Vance started pedaling towards his neighborhood—considering the three of them all lived within a block of each other. When he left, he didn’t seem to notice the curtain slightly lifted on the second floor.

——————————————

“So you’re telling me that you needed my bike to follow that guy and then found the house of (Y/N)’s kidnapper?” Bruce said, leaning against the wall of his garage with his arms crossed over his chests, looking at a scratched up and ragged Vance.

“I said I’d tell you, so I did.”

Bruce gave one more look at the blonde in front of him and sighed, body sagging forward as he seemed to relax ever so slightly. “I just don’t know what to make of it Vance. This is like some sort of shity cliché in a bad movie.”

Staring at Bruce as he talked, there were small things in his behavior that the boy noticed about the other. He seemed to be a little more pale than normal and more ragged. Bruce Yamada was usually pretty clean-cut, so seeing him like this was a bit of a shock—and funny.

“Well it’s not. Your best friend was kidnapped by a man named Albert with a sick fantasy involving murdering kids.”

Bruce seemed to flinch at his harsh words, looking up at Vance with a spark of anger behind his eyes as he grabbed at the collar of his shirt. “I know! You think I haven’t been stuck on this for the past week?! It’s been a week! She’s probably dead!” Bruce’s grip loosened. “And you were the last one to speak to her.” The two boys stood there as a tense silence hung over them in the dim garage.

“She’s not dead, I can tell.” Vance said, reassuring Bruce. “I’ll save her.”

His grip on Vance’s shirt collar loosened and his head hung as he obviously tried to hide his teary eyes. A small chuckle came from Bruce, which shocked Vance. “When did you get all soft for the girl you tormented?”

Vance stood there in silence. Shit. So it was obvious. Thinking for a moment, Vance looked away. Jeez, this is embarrassing. “I guess you could say I owe her a big apology.” There was a weird look exchanged between the two, a sort of unspoken silence as blue eyes met black.

“Hey, what the fuck is that look you’re giving me?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

——————————————

“Hey.”

You ignored him.

“Hey.”

Still ignored him.

“HEY!”

You sat up when you heard him walking closer, turning quickly to look at the frowny mask and visible angry and excited eyes. What was with him today? You looked out the window, greeted by the darkness of night. What day was this? Three? Seven? Thirteen?

“What do you want?”

He stared at you for a minute, a giggle coming from behind his mask. Raising an eyebrow at your kidnapper you wondered what kind of sick thoughts he was having as he had a sort of perverted laugh. He didn’t look to be visibly armed or anything so your swimming thoughts of death were kept at bay. When The Grabber let out a sort of cough you paid attention to him again. What had him in this kind of mood?

“Looks like one of your friends has a habit of not minding his own business.” The man said, throwing down some pictures of a boy crawling out of a bush, standing around, and then walking away.

The pictures were a bit blurry, but you could tell it was Vance. You pinched at your thigh to keep yourself from showing any sort of joy or hope. You knew the games this man was trying to play on you; he wanted to see your look of recognition, your look of the hope you’d get out of here soon.

The man’s face fell when you looked up with a confused and nonchalant look, shrugging as you tossed the pictures back down and said, “I don’t know this kid.”

He chuckled with an angry sort of lacing to it, squatting and picking one up, pointing at the boy in the picture. “Yes you do, it’s that kid you were walking with last week when I fucking grabbed you.”

So it’s been a week?

“No it isn’t. The hair is a similar color to his, sure—but it’s straighter and a tad darker. Also, that kid is dressed more like that paperboy you nabbed or those dickhead jocks.”

As you pointed out all the differences so casually, the man in front of you grew slightly more frustrated each time. You made for a good liar when the time came, and you could see that doubt was starting to crawl across his face.

“Then why was he in the bushes next to my house?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t even know you had bushes in front of your house until just now. Kids lose shit in bushes by accident all the time. If it really was blondie then he probably would’ve tried to break in immediately or rummage around your shit. Have you seen or heard anything about him? Cops say he’s one of the most reckless and dangerous kids around.”

Shit. Albert was losing. He couldn’t believe with full certainty that it really was that boy he spotted with you that day by his house. It didn’t make sense. Grabbing your cheeks quickly in one hand, he pulled your face close to his and you lost your balance as his eyes scanned yours for what you presumed was the truth. You stared back at him, an angry but scared look crossing your face. Could this old bastard just leave you alone?

He let you go and got up with an angry grunt, scooping the pictures up and walking away, not noticing the one you hid under your stomach when you fell forward after he grabbed your face. The basement door closed with a slam but no heavy click of a lock. He wanted to give you hope so you’d feel more inclined to try and sneak out and into the arms of whoever was outside his house earlier? Yeah right, you’d wait just a little longer to try and make your great escape.

Although…

——————

As Vance was getting some of his shit together; the shit being a bag filled with things he could use tonight and for the next little bit as he waited for an opportunity to try and get you, he felt a lingering sense of doubt. What if when he went to try and save you, you’re already dead? What if he ended up in your position next? What if he died? He shook off those thoughts, masking them with his tough-guy persona. He wouldn’t die. Those what-ifs were just moments of weakness—and Vance Hopper was anything but weak.

Scribbling a note, he wrote, ‘Going to save (Y/N), if I’m not back by tomorrow afternoon assume I’m dead and bring the cops to house 7742 with the shitty metal fence and twisted tree.’ At least if he died, he’d end this sick fucker’s kidnapping career. Sure he could call the cops right now and say he had the house of the kidnapper, but these guys weren’t going to do jack. No matter who went with each of the kidnappings claiming they saw the kidnapper, unless you had solid evidence then it was pointless.

As he walked out of his house and down the winding streets to make it to ‘Al and Max’s’ House, Vance thought out his plan. If he waited until late enough in the night to try and break in, then it’d probably work since he was sure no person would or could stay awake that long and late. One issue was that he didn’t know where exactly in the house you were. You could be in the bedroom, a basement if he even had one, a bathroom.

He thought of you stuck in some dingy and dirty room, face and body dirty and your face scared, and he could imagine your scared face very well considering your guys’ relationship with each other. Vance never felt guilty for bullying someone before—so why did he feel bad for you? He knew a lot of people weren’t exactly happy with him since he was the last person to see you and he didn’t even help when he was just feet away, and he felt bad for how many people mourned your disappearance. Not to mention how Bruce Yamada had said the last person you talked to was him, and the last thing you mentioned was how he fucked up your life in a way.

You really weren’t as bad as he thought when he remembered you. You fought back against him which was a bit of a change to what he was used to, and you seemed to be somewhat of an enjoyable person based on your interactions with other people. You had nice eyes, he supposed. Maybe after everything is over he’d try and make it up to you. Get you some snacks or take you to a movie.

Wait. That wasn’t really making it up. That was more like asking you out on a date. Shit. How had his mind drifted from saving you to taking you out? It’s not like he’d known you in the past, especially not because you two lived on the same block. Thinking back to that incident in the Grab N’ Go, Vance didn’t fully know why he cut your hair. It wasn’t just because you messed up his game, it was also something else he had against you. What that something was, no one would really know.

It was slightly dark when Vance got to the neighborhood, hiding behind the big bush next door. Vance had a watch with him, so he knew when he should be in and back out. 8:47 PM, not too bad. He figured sneaking around at sometime near 11 would probably be good to get a feel for the place, and actually breaking in around midnight. When the blonde started to look at the front of the house, he nearly jumped out of his skin when the masked man, ‘Al’ as he learned, walked out to let a dog take a piss. Fuck, there was a dog?! This was going to get a little harder.

——————

It took a little bit to prepare yourself, grabbing the soda bottle from yesterday and the cable from their places as you got ready. You didn’t know exactly what you’d do, but you were pretty good at coming up with things on the fly. You could hit the Grabber with the bottle if you needed, and you could use the cable to choke him or trip him or something.

“Oh my god I’m getting ahead of myself.” You whisper to yourself, pacing around the room slightly. You guessed it was sometime around 9 or 10 PM by now. You’d been looking around the area trying to see if you could get out another way. By the toilet, the walls, the window—nothing.

You tied the bottle to the cable by the neck, swinging it around to see if you’d be able to use something with distance. If you couldn’t hold your own against Vance Hopper normally while you were at your best, then you had no chance against a grown man while half-starving. Wait a minute. You did beat Vance once—in the nurse’s office!

You stopped for a second, the swinging bottle stopping and clattering to the floor, making you cringe and wince at the loud noise as glass collided with linoleum. You walked over to grab the bottle, thinking of that tug-of-war you played with Vance a few weeks ago. Now you have a strategy. Thinking of that time in the nurse’s office, your mind drifted back over to Vance. You’d really appreciate him right about now—with his strong arms, threatening demeanor, and all that. You remember staring into his blue eyes when he was on top of you, both scared and intrigued. Eyes are the window to the soul or some bullshit like that. If he wasn’t so scary, you’d probably be into him. He was the bad boy that good girls would want if he wasn’t so violent when provoked.

Hold on, were you just thinking that Vance Hopper was attractive? You shook the thought from your head, bending down to pick up the bottle and noticing the linoleum flooring under it cracked. That’s odd—linoleum didn’t usually crack like that. You stomped on the crack, noticing it push down slightly. What was under this? You eventually clawed at it, noticing dirt. Cheap bastard put tile straight on top of dirt.

You could use this. Quickly, you went at the dirt with the bottle, filling the greenish glass with the dirty substance. Now there was more weight and therefore there’d be more power behind your strikes.

——————

Vance was walking around the house and scoping out where he should break in, the quietness of the night creating a sort of nerve-wracking, tense air around the blonde. So far, any door he’d tried so far had been locked extensively and any window was locked tight and in a hard to access place. It had been about thirty minutes since he started searching around and so far nothing had come of it.

Sitting down against a wall of the house behind a few bushes, the boy leaned his head back. He was supposed to help you, but he wasn’t doing anything helpful aside from just walking around. Maybe he should just go for it and break in by force. He was strong, maybe he could take the man on and win.

Turning his head to look above him at a window, he sighed and slammed his fist against the wall in frustration. That wall didn’t feel like a wall though. Looking down, he noticed a window nestled close to the floor next to him. How he didn’t notice before was crazy to him. Getting on his stomach, his blue eyes were squinted as he tried to make out what room this window led to. It was really dark inside and the window wasn’t the cleanest thing on earth so he struggled a bit, but he noticed something moving inside and was instantly at full attention. Wiping the glass cleaner on his side, Vance saw it was a moving person going back and forth—that moving person being you. Holy shit.

He furiously knocked on the glass, hoping to catch your attention—which he did. As you turned your head to look at where the noise was located, your eyes widened. Vance Hopper was knocking on the glass window leading to your captivity. With watery eyes, you moved a little closer so you could both see each other more clearly. You were both so close but so far away. You tried shouting at him to see if he could hear you, but based on his confused look, you concluded that he really couldn’t hear you. This basement really was soundproof.

You thought for a moment, running over to grab the bottle of dirt you had on the floor somewhere and showing Vance. He had not a single clue what you were trying to tell him, but when he saw you wind your arm back he got the hint and moved away. He heard a loud thump against the glass but ultimately nothing came of it. Moving back over, he peered through the window and saw you with your arms raised back. The bottle broke in its collision against the wall and was now in bits and pieces all over the floor.

Vance got up from his spot and walked away, going to grab his bag of stuff. You didn’t know this however and assumed he just got up and left. Why would he do that? Was he taunting you? Did he get that man to kidnap you? It could’ve been a setup.

You started hyperventilating, tears coming out of your eyes. Your life was going to end soon and Vance Hopper and this kidnapper would be the only ones to truly know of your demise. Covering your mouth to slow your breathing, you were scared by the loud crack of something against metal—your head snapping to the window where Vance was thwacking at the glass with a heavy hammer. When it started cracking and you started calming down in response, you grabbed the cable you had lying by the bed. You could toss it up and he’d pull you out.

Finally, the glass broke, the hand of your tormentor-turned-savior sticking through the window. “Toss that up here. I’ll tie it to the bush and get you out of here.”

You were crying heavy tears now, the relief of everything settling down on your shoulders. You threw the bundle up at the boy with a slight struggle because of your blurry vision and waited for him to finish. When his head popped back into view, he looked more terrified than concentrated. Being caught up in the moment earlier and trying to quiet your sobs, neither of you had heard the basement door swinging open and the masked man coming into the room, the lower half of his mask gone, a deep frown now painted on his face.

“Looks like we have some naughty children at play.” He said whilst bearing a knife that glinted in the dim light of the room.

You backed up, eyes wide and air gone from your lungs. Holy fuck he had a knife. He heard you two and now you’d pay the price. Your eyes flicked between his position near the door and the glass all over the floor. Vance’s shouting at him helped distract the man as you made a quick move to swipe the largest and sharpest shard of green, dirt-covered glass off the floor.

“Leave her alone, Al! That’s right, I know your fucking name! If you so much as touch her I’ll get you straight to the fucking cops!”

The man’s eyes—Al’s eyes, flicked to your sudden movement, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “You wouldn’t be able to get anyone here before she’d be dead and cold on the floor.” He started walking over to you near the corner of the room. He won. You played his game and lost, retreating back into the corner of the room like a scared animal.

You looked around, darting from your current position to the wall by the hallway, his heavy footsteps following with more fury and speed than before. You didn’t make it to your next position before him though, a rough and calloused hand gripping around your elbow and yanking you against him and causing you to lose balance, his other hand fumbling the knife around as he got it into position.

You knew you wouldn’t be at peak physical ability after eating nothing but eggs and soda for your past three or four meals, but you already felt disoriented by just being tugged around? Not to mention that you normally ran faster than you just did.

“You’ve been a very naughty girl, (Y/N).” He murmured, tracing the knife up your arms—the blade biting into some parts deeper than others as you started to bleed. He finally brought the knife to your throat, the tip pressing against the thin layer of flesh on top of your windpipe as a warning. “You got so much closer than that other kid, and yet you’re still gonna die just like he and the other boy before him did.”

You struggled against him, the hand holding the glass shard moving up to get a better vantage point. “Let me go!” Jerking your arm down, you stabbed it into the flesh of his thigh, a loud scream coming from him, his grip around the knife loosening enough to drop it, but the grip on you tightening.

“You little shit!”

Just as the Grabber shoved you to the floor and was winding back his leg to kick you, Vance—who jumped in through the window—came up behind the man and kicked the back of his knees out, watching you roll over as Albert fell forward and jammed the glass further into his leg before rolling over. Ouch, that looked painful. He curled forward in pain until Vance sat himself on his stomach, throwing punches at him and knocking the mask off in the process—which you picked up. Getting his mask knocked off seemed to give The Grabber some newfound energy as he punched Vance in the stomach, the blonde falling off of the man while struggling to get breath back into his lungs.

“Fuck.” He wheezed, gripping his gut, wheezing out in pain when Albert kicked him.

“Two birds with one stone.” His voice was gravely and dry, about to start repaying the favor until the phone rang, startling Vance and Albert.

It gave you the perfect opportunity to grab the knife in your free hand, the steel and rubber a little heavier than you expected which caused you to fumble for a moment as you quickly walked up behind Albert. ‘Shit.’ You thought, knife raised. Your vision was spinning ever so slightly and your arms hurt, so when you made a stab for his back and landed in his shoulder, that would have to be as good as you would get. Vance pushed him off and got up, his steps staggered as he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the window and cable setup.

“Climb up.” He commanded, turning to keep an eye out for any more surprises your kidnapper had in store. When you threw the mask out the window and crawled through the window frame you ended up cutting your arms and legs on the broken glass around it, tears pricking at your eyes in the process. Just after you got up and reached a hand out for Vance, The Grabber stood, his knife in his left hand while his right was clutching the wound on his shoulder to stop the blood pouring out. Seeing his whole face together and uncovered by any obscurities made your stomach lurch. He looked just as sickening as you imagined.

“Give up already.” Vance said, ready to take him on again. “You’re just about halfway dead anyway.”

“I won our game, (Y/N), now I get to kill you.” He said, ignoring Vance and pointing his knife at you.

“I’m fucking talking to you!” The blonde said, stomping over to the man with his arms in a fighting position. “Just lay down and–”

The man swung his arm out in an arch before him, the knife making contact with Vance as the boy shouted out in pain. It happened so quickly that you barely processed anything; not Vance falling to the floor clutching his arms, not Albert walking to you, and not him yanking on your arm. Just as you started falling through the window and back into hell, you made a grab for the hammer that had been right beside you, swinging your arm at his head as you fell down. The room echoed with the sickening crack of metal on bone and flesh along with the thud of bodies on the linoleum flooring. Albert seemed to be knocked out, blood quickly flooding his hair and the floor around him. You on the other hand though…

“Shit!” You cried out in pain, your left wrist limp and at an unnatural angle. Definitely broken, you thought. Rolling onto your side and holding your arm close to your chest to not move it, your tears and sobs started filling the quietness of the room, so did the sound of ripping and shuffling. You were too focused on the pain to look at what it was.

A warm hand landed on your shoulder, lifting you into a sitting position before pulling you up with a pained grunt coming from behind you. Vance was okay and alive. Thank god. You turned to look at him as you stood, the help of one of his hands cradling your elbow at a stable position, and hugged him, stifled cries coming out in full. It took a moment, but Vance hugged you back with his free arm, his own quiet tears falling onto your dirtied shirt. You two killed the man that had been tormenting your town for weeks and Vance had saved you from death.

The phone on the wall rang again, capturing your attention as you wiped your eyes and started walking over to the wall-mounted device and leaving a confused Vance to wipe his tears. You stood there for a moment, an air of hesitation surrounding you, your unbroken hand just on top of the phone body. It rang once, twice, thrice– Picking it up, you held it to your ear.

“Hey, (Y/N). Thanks.”

“Hey Griffin.”

“He’s gone for good now, right?”

You were surprised to hear Billy as well. “Yeah, he’s gone. Dead and gone.”

It was quiet for a moment until the line went flat. No static, no background noise. Just a phone with a cut cord now. Pulling it away, you smiled at it and put it back, walking over to where the knife laid on the floor to pick it up and thought for a moment. You wouldn’t disturb some universal god right? You walked back to the phone and looked back at Vance, silently asking for help.

“Why?” He asked, taking the knife from you and holding the twisting phone cord.

“Good question,” You started, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Maybe I want to keep a piece of Griffin and Billy out of here, ya know?”

“I really don't. Are you sure you didn’t go crazy?”

“I’m not sure.”

——————

When you two walked out of the basement through the stairs and looked around, it was strange. Vance felt like he’d been in that basement for weeks even though it might’ve been just an hour—so he couldn’t imagine how you felt when you hobbled up the stairs leading away from your captivity. In short, you were shocked. The house looked so normal—nothing like what you’d expect from a man as sick in the head as Albert.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” You muttered, looking around for the way out of this place.

“Puke on his couch or something.”

Looking around for a quick second, you both noticed the front door and the bike lock on it. Vance looked particularly pissed about it since he assumed you both didn’t know the code and you’d have to end up going through the window—which your broken wrist and his sliced and barely scabbed over bloody arms didn’t allow.

Grabbing at the lock and shaking it with clear frustration, Vance didn’t expect to hear a dog start barking like crazy, both of you jumping out of your skins. If you two escaped a murderous serial killer but died to a dog…that’d be really embarrassing to you both. Footsteps started walking down the hall to your left and you both looked that way and saw a disheveled man who had clearly just woken up looking at you both—scratch that, he was looking at you in fear.

“Holy shit. You’re the girl The Grabber kidnapped!”

You and Vance exchanged confused looks. Wait—did he not know? When Vance leaned back to look at him, he had a mixture of emotions on his face. Why wasn’t that man freaking out? Why wasn’t he attacking you both to avenge Albert?

“You mean that man downstairs?”

His face changed into one of disbelief. You guys were bullshitting him right? “What do you mean? There isn’t a downstairs.”

——————————————

When you and Vance ended up at the nearest police station—courtesy of Max, who’s whole world seemed to fall apart when you two explained what happened, it was a whirlwind of events; several officers running over to you and asking you everything that happened, paramedics being called, both of your parents being called, reports, cars driving to the house at four in the morning. It was a lot.

Vance had severe lacerations across his forearms and ended up needing several stitches, along with severe bruising and two cracked ribs. You meanwhile had completely shattered your left wrist, had a few small cuts that needed one or two stitches, and slightly malnourished. You have to stay in the hospital for around a week, while Vance is just there for two nights and one day.

You had a lot of visitors come through: your family, Bruce (who started to sob upon seeing you), Donna, Gwenny, Finney, Robin, and the press, but they kept getting denied. By the end of the first day you were allowed to see visitors, you were a little disappointed Vance didn’t show up. Laying back in your bed and staring up at the ceiling in the dark room you sighed. After all this mumbo-jumbo was taken care of life would be back to normal; people going about their days in peace and kids out and playing again—meanwhile you’d be terrified too to walk around the area alone.

“‘Lucky escapist’ they say, but I think I’m more on the unlucky side.”

“I think living as a sort of hero and escaping that guy is pretty damn lucky.” A gruff voice muttered out, startling you enough into sitting up quickly, looking around.

“Vance?” You asked, heart pounding. “You don’t come visit me all day and then at night you do?!”

As much as you appreciated the sentiment and that he came to talk to you—that terrified you. Albert had come to visit you so often at night, often waking you up just because he was watching. You didn’t even realize how heavy you were breathing, your body unable to regulate itself as fear and adrenaline took over.

“Holy shit, (Y/N), I didn’t realize it would scare you so much.”

You glared at him, laying back with your hands over your face in an attempt to take away all the open air and calm yourself down. “I’m just still scared.” You admitted. “He watched me at night.”

Vance walked closer from his spot near the door, pulling up a chair and sitting down next to you. “Well you’re still lucky you got out of there.”

“Only thanks to you. I think I would’ve died on my own…” Small pause. “No. I definitely would’ve died without you.”

Vance looked at your small smile, your eyes holding a sort of sadness. He’d tormented you since the summer and led you into your kidnapping, yet you still were grateful for his help when you could just as easily take it as something he should’ve done. God, he felt like the biggest asshole ever.

“I’m sorry.”

You were shocked, eyes wide. Vance Hopper apologizing? You had no clue what he was apologizing for—but it was shocking. “For what?”

“What do you mean for what? Did your body start eating its own brain? I’m apologizing for what I did to you before you got kidnapped!”

“Ohhh.” You said, giggling at his facial expression. “I think after my getting kidnapped overshadows that. I’m not mad or salty about it anymore.”

The blonde leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh. God, you were stupid. He turned his head to look at the wall, spotting a picture on the nightstand. “Did someone leave a polaroid here with you or something?” He asked, snatching it before you could react.

“Wait a minute, is this a picture of me?”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, the words lost on your tongue. “It was The Grabber! He took those pictures and came downstairs asking if it was you!”

He started laughing. Yes, laughing. It was a little shocking to hear him laugh about something like this, but you joined in. In your defense—his laughter was really contagious. When you realized he was getting really loud though, you got up and covered his mouth.

“As much as I’d like to appreciate my hero, you’ve gotta be way more quiet. I don’t want us to get in trouble.”

He stared at you, his hand reaching up to your wrist and pulling your hand off his mouth. “Your hero, huh?”

Your face turned red, looking away. “You saved me, what else am I supposed to say?”

“Nothing, I guess.”

There were a few moments of silence as you two sat there, the air slightly awkward. You stared at the wall across from you and Vance stared at the picture. Damn, so he wasn’t as slick as he thought he was when he was sneaking around that house. He looked up at you. Why’d you keep the picture? He couldn’t think of anything that would make you want to keep it—unless…

“Since I’m your hero, don’t I deserve a reward?”

“Huh?!”

“Now you’re the one being too loud.” He said, leaning forward. “Why’d you keep the picture?”

You stuttered a few times, hands fiddling with the blankets nervously. “My last connection to the outside?”

“Hm.” Staring at you, his blue eyes were hooded and piercing, a nervous blush spreading across your face.

“Fine.” You murmured, leaning forward to place a kiss on his cheek, surprised when he turned his head at the last moment and pressed his lips on yours.

His hands slid on top of yours resting on your lap, lips connected for a good few seconds before you both pulled away. Your face was hot, embarrassment and shyness taking over. Vance’s cheeks were pink, his eyes focused on where your hands were connected. You’d only ever thought that Vance Hopper would probably be a pleasant person to kiss; with his rough exterior slowly becoming soft just before the moment, and now you actually did kiss him.

“Bruce um…he helped me realize something.”

You nodded, lips pressed into a small smile as you intertwined your fingers together. “Bruce didn’t help, but I think being kidnapped did.” You laughed at what you said as Vance leaned his forehead against yours, both of your noses touching as he looked at you.

“So…do you think ‘lucky escapist’ is actually true now?”

—————— FIN ——————

Taglist

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895 notes · View notes

hobeemin · 1 year

Text

fool’s gold

💰 genre: angst, smut, drama, established relationship au, lovers to enemies

💰 pairing(s): ceo!kim namjoon x doctor!poc (f)reader x lawyer!kim seokjin

💰 summary: "the cause of broken marriages is selfishness in one form or another" - vance havner

vows were never meant to be broken yet here they were. the problem is how can you quit the very person you know is your soulmate?

💰 rating: 18+

💰 warning(s): divorce, infidelity, depression, anxiety, gossip, drinking, swearing, pregnancy, gossip, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk, teasing, angry sex

💰 word count: 4.5k

💰 credits: a huge shoutout to @daimyosjeon and @sugakookitty for beta reading this fic. i hadn’t written anything in awhile so i appreciate the feedback you both gave cause i was so unsure of this fic 💜💜

banner resources found here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

💰 a/n: for the heartbroken society collab hosted by @shina913 @playmetheclassics & @jeonlius

The horns outside roused the two occupants awake. The man blinked, trying to remove the sleep from his eyes. His lover didn’t take long to rise from the bed and search for her clothing strewn around the room. He watched with interest as she dressed, only sitting back down on the edge of the bed to put her shoes back on.

“Leaving so soon?”

She sighed as she felt his hand touch her lower back. She almost recoiled from it.

“We go through this every time, Namjoon. You know I can’t stay.”

He frowned, rolling onto his back as he looked at the ceiling. “You can; you just never do.”

She stood, walking over to the mirror at the dresser. “I’m not going to get into this with you right now, and I need coffee before my meeting this morning.”

He rolled his eyes. “Always a pleasure Y/N.”

“Likewise.”

---

Y/N sat at the table, fiddling with a pen in her hand. Her eyes kept glancing at the clock.

Late as usual.

“Are you sure he knew when the settlement started?”

She huffed, turning to the man beside her. “Jin, I’m sure of it, and it was scheduled months ago.”

Jin sat back and adjusted his tie. “Being late will only make the judge hate him more.”

The door opened as the judge walked in. She nodded to the three people sitting and sat down. “I see he’s late again,” she murmured, opening her files.

The second man finally spoke up, his features slightly annoyed. “Your honor, I’ve called my client but haven’t been able to reach him–”

The door to the conference room burst open as Namjoon entered, looking disheveled. He planted himself in the seat next to his lawyer and gave the judge a small smile.

“My apologies, Judge Park. Traffic.”

Judge Park scowled. “Traffic didn’t stop everyone else from being here on time. Mr. Kim, I’d suggest you get your priorities straight. After all, this is your divorce settlement.”

The judge continued to drone on, summarizing what had been said in the last few sessions.

Y/N glared at Namjoon. After seven years of marriage, they called it quits. They didn’t try to hold on to their marriage. How she felt about him and made her think they weren’t aligned. The bills from their marriage counselor were proof enough.

After a particularly nasty scandal involving a secretary, Y/N called it quits. She was tired of the whispers and the looks she received working at the hospital, which added even more stress to her already fast-paced life.

And yet.

She looked across the table at her soon-to-be ex-husband. Why couldn’t she stay away? The guilt of that morning still lingered, and the thought made her face heat up if they had any idea what she and Namjoon did the night before.

Feeling eyes on her, she looked up from her papers to see Namjoon glancing at her. She looked over at her lawyer. Jin was preoccupied with the judge, reading over his notes and paying attention, as was Namjoon’s lawyer. She rolled her eyes as a smirk spread across his face. The sudden urge to wipe it off his face with her fist grew each moment. When he sent a wink her way, Y/N let out an audible groan making both lawyers stop talking.

They turned, looking at her curiously. Jin raised an eyebrow at her in concern as he reached for his glass. “Everything alright, Dr. Kim?”

Y/N flashed him a smile.

Judge Park pressed her hands together with a nod to each person.

“It seems these are the terms from both parties. If we’ve reached an agreement, these can be drawn up, and in our next meeting, we’ll only need signatures. How do we–”

“Your Honor?”

Y/N huffed out a breath as Namjoon spoke up. Adjusting his tie, he shot her a look with a grin. “I’d like to go over the logistics of the assets once more.”

Jin frowned. “I’m sorry, but what wasn’t clear before?”

Namjoon murmured as he leafed through the sheets. Once he reached the section, he chuckled, flipping it around and placing his finger near it.

“The vacation property. What do you plan to do with it?”

Was he for real?

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. “You can’t be serious. Why do you care what I do with it?”

“Humor me, please.”

A frown crossed her face. “Sell it.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Wha–B-But why?! We built it together, Y/N!”

A snarl erupted from between her lips. “It lost all value when you decided to bring multiple women into our bedroom, Namjoon.”

“I will have to step in and cease this conversation. This session is adjourned.”

As the judge stood, the group did as well until she left the room. Y/N sighed heavily as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. Namjoon observed the action. Yep. She was stressed, and it was her way of coping with it. He remembered when he first saw her do it as a university student, and they were studying in his dorm during finals week.

“Helps me calm down,” she once said.

He realized he’d been staring once her eyes fell on him. He looked away in haste. She rolled her eyes until she felt a hand on her arm. Y/N turned to see Jin standing next to her. He removed his hand once he realized they were still around other people. He dropped his voice enough for her to hear.

“Call me later?”

She nodded, giving him a small smile. Relief passed his features as he gathered his papers and put them into his suitcase. The group headed to the elevators waiting for it to stop at their floor.

“Where’s Haneul?”

Y/N scoffed at the question, keeping her eyes facing the elevator. “So now you care about your daughter?”

Namjoon sighed, feeling the sudden headache grow. “She’s just as much my daughter as she is yours.”

She rounded on him, and her temper began to flare. “I wish you wouldn’t try to test me. Keep it up, Joon. I’m trying to be fair, but if you keep antagonizing me, I will ensure you only get limited visits with her.”

“You wouldn’t do that, Y/N,” he accused quietly. Namjoon narrowed his eyes at his wife, and she was playing hardball now. He was a lousy husband but prided himself on being a great father.

Jin glanced between the two of them. “This isn’t the proper place for this discussion.”

“I’m aware, Seokjin,” she snapped before returning to Namjoon. “She’s staying with my parents; they flew in a few days ago. Happy?”

“Very. Thanks,” he mumbled. “I’ll pick her up on Friday and take her to school on Monday morning.”

She nodded, pressing the button that led to the parking garage. At least she could be civil when it came to their daughter.

“Fine with me. Just call before you arrive.”

Namjoon hummed in agreement, and the elevator ride fell into silence. As he leaned against the wall, deep in thought, he noticed something. Seokjin stood too close to his wife– he refused to call her his ex until the papers were signed. They were merely separated. But Y/N didn’t move away from Seokjin; she quickly smiled at him. Namjoon’s knuckles paled as he gripped his suitcase tighter. Clenching his jaw, he cleared his throat.

“Are you going back to work now?”

Y/N stepped away from Seokjin and turned to Namjoon. “No, I took a leave of absence.” Seeing his facial expression, she sighed. “It’s fine, and I have enough residents to help until I’m back.”

The last thing she wanted to do was have him pry about why she took time off work, and all it would do was lead to another argument. She was relieved when the elevator finally reached the parking level she was on. As the door opened, Seokjin held the button. She turned toward Namjoon with a curt nod.

“I’ll see you soon, Namjoon. I’ll let Haneul know you’ll pick her up.”

“Thank you. See you Friday.”

As she walked out, Seokjin followed, tipping his imaginary hat to him just as the doors shut. Namjoon frowned as he got off at the next level. Why did seeing her with Jin rustle his feathers so much? Not only would that be inappropriate, but it would also be an extreme conflict of interest. He was her lawyer, for crying out loud.

Would that stop you?

He shook off the thoughts, frowning as he walked to his car. Yes, things had gotten bad between them, but they always ended up in bed together for the most part. Regardless of their thoughts of each other, no matter how toxic it was, Namjoon and Y/N still had some physical attraction to each other.

---

“Oh shit!”

Y/N whipped her head back, biting down hard on her lip. One hand gripped the counter's edge, and the other tangled into dark hair from the scalp for dear life. She willed herself to open her eyes and look down at the head between her legs.

She bit back a scream as she rutted against his mouth. He massaged her inner thighs, placing soft kisses along her skin, making his way up to her pussy lips. His finger stroked her slit, gauging her reaction. His fingers dug into her thighs as his lips laid an assault on her swollen clit. Y/N’s hips bucked, making him chuckle as he pulled away.

At the sudden loss of contact, a frown formed on her face. Mischievous eyes met hers as his tongue licked a thick strip along her seam, causing her to jolt.

“Frustrated?”

Y/N eyed him with scrutiny.

Giving in would only make things rough. He knew what he was doing to her. A smirk spread on his face, watching her come undone.

“I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn. Just say my name, and I’ll let you come, darling.”

Making a point, he spread her lips, zeroing in on her clit. He flicked it gently, followed by a smack. With a muffled moan, Y/N’s hips bucked. Collecting her arousal on his tongue with kitten licks, he let out a hungry moan before covering her clit with his mouth, causing her to cry. He let go of her clit, letting his tongue travel down to her entrance. He hummed as he feasted, enjoying how close she was to unraveling. Gasping, she gripped his hair more, making a hiss slip past his pillowy lips as she anchored herself.

“Let go, Y/N. I know you want to, darling. It’s alright,” he coaxed silkily.

The tight coils in her belly released so suddenly that she almost scooted off the counter. He held down her thighs to keep her from falling as she cried out. The aftershocks were so intense she kept shivering as he stood from his spot. He picked her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest.

“Anything to say, Y/N?”

Finally catching her breath, she looked at him with a chuckle.

“Fuck you, Kim Seokjin.”

---

Y/N emerged wrapped in a towel, shower bonnet on her head as the steam billowed from the shower in the bathroom shower. The smells wafting throughout the apartment made her mouth water as she removed the bonnet shaking her faux locs from their confines. Slipping into a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, she padded back into the living room, going toward the kitchen. A man stood around, turned by the stove, stirring something in a pot. Smiling, she walked behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso.

“Something smells delicious.”

Jin laughed as he paused his stirring. Turning, he bent down to kiss her before focusing on the pot. “It’s almost done. Wanna taste?”

“Do you have to ask me?”

He grabbed a spoon from the drawer and scooped some of the sauce onto the spoon. He blew it gently before bringing it to her lips. Y/N tasted the sauce, humming at how delicious it was.

“Not bad, Mr. Kim.”

He laughed, putting the lid on the pot. “Not bad, my ass. It’s the best kimchi tofu soup ever.”

She scoffed, removing her hands from his torso, and grabbed bowls from the cabinets. “And feed your already bloated ego? You think so little of me.”

Jin smirked as he swatted her ass playfully and kissed her cheek. “I think of you just fine. You ready to eat?”

She nodded as she helped set the table. Jin brought out the side dishes, scooping the rice into two small bowls. They sat down moments later, and Jin opened a bottle of wine, pouring each a glass. Sitting there in silence felt calming. No yelling or arguments...just peace.

She spoke too soon.

Jin took a sip of his wine before digging into his soup. “How are you feeling?”

Y/N’s brow arched in curiosity. “In what way?”

His smile reached the corner of his mouth. “You’re being coy, but I meant the settlement and Namjoon.”

Her nose wrinkled in distaste. “Do we have to talk about that?”

“But as your lawyer–”

“Correction...yes, you are my lawyer, Jin; however, we are off the clock. I don’t want to talk about that right now, please.”

“Fine. But I do have one more question.”

Y/N gave a lackluster smile but urged him to continue.

“When am I going to meet Haneul?”

She blinked once. Then twice. Where was this all coming from? As she remained silent, Jin began to feel agitated.

“It’s not a difficult question, Y/N. I mean, we’ve been seeing each other for almost a year. Don’t you think it’s time?”

"No. No, I don't," she answered.

He stared at her in disbelief, frown lines forming on his face. "No?"

"No."

"Why?"

All she wanted was a quiet dinner with him. Was that so hard to ask? The last thing she wanted was to think about custody hearings and the divorce. It was hard enough taking a leave of absence was hard enough, and work helped her be distracted.

Y/N rubbed her nose bridge again to alleviate the pain between her eyes.

Why was he ruining this?

Standing, she met his gaze as her lips drooped into a frown.

“I think I should leave.”

Jin swore under his breath, rising from his seat. “Why are you being so dramatic? It’s just a question.”

Rolling her eyes upward, she stormed off, grabbing her belongings and shoving them into a bag. “I don’t have time for this, Jin.”

He followed her into the bedroom, watching her dress. “Then make time.”

Her posture straightened as she let out a hiss, eyes narrowing. “What did you say?”

He walked up to her crossing his arms over his expansive chest. “We knew what we were doing, starting something. You’re so caught up in what everyone will think; you can’t see that someone cares about you.”

His voice lowered, reaching out to grab her hand. “Y/N, please stay. It’s late, and I don’t want to upset you.”

She shook her head as Jin’s thumbs circled the top of her hands. The gesture calmed her nerves as she thought about what he had said. She didn't want to admit it, but he was right in some aspects. Sighing, she looked up at Jin and nodded.

“I get what you’re saying, but can we slow things down for a while? I want to be able to do things right this time.”

Jin leaned in and kissed her forehead gently. “Yes. I’m willing to wait as long as it takes for you.”

---

Namjoon stared out at the skyline, drink in hand. The condensation coated his fingers. Brows furrowed as his insecurities began to eat away at him. Why was he feeling like this? He hadn’t been able to shake the suspicious feeling since seeing Y/N in the elevator. Something was up, and he did like the unknown. Lost in his thoughts, he barely felt the hands encircling his waist. Lips pressing against his earlobe caused him to shudder. A smirk ghosted her face.

“Come back to bed.”

“Can’t sleep,” he muttered.

She frowned, reaching out to take the glass from his hands. “You’re drinking again.”

“Helps me get to sleep.”

“No, it doesn’t. Just makes the bad things go away temporarily.”

Namjoon let out a heavy sigh as he fought to roll his eyes. “You gonna lecture all night and ruin my buzz?”

She scoffed with a frown. “Not unless you come back to bed.”

“Soon.”

She sucked in her teeth, glaring at the back of his head. “Namjoon, you’re making this easy for me to decide.”

“Decide what?”

“To leave you completely.”

He turned to look at her with a stare of disbelief. “Tiffany, you can’t be serious.”

She crossed her hands over her chest. “Very. It was fun while it lasted, but you’re a mess.”

“I wasn’t messed up when you came here today,” he taunted. “It wasn’t messed up when you and I started this. Admit it, you didn’t care you were fucking a married man, and you sure didn’t care that it was the husband of your colleague.”

“You’re a bastard,” she hissed.

Smirking, he gripped her by the hair, tugging her toward him. “I know. Now kiss me.”

Her lips smashed against his as he laid claim once again. The glass slipped from his hands, falling to the floor in an earth-shattering crash, making her pull away momentarily.

“Leave it,” he murmured against her lips.

Picking her up by the waist, her legs wrapped around him instinctively. Namjoon pushed her against the glass, pushing her panties to the side; she moaned as she felt him enter without warning, gripping him by the hair as their grunts and pants filled the air.

There was no tenderness in the sex, just two people seeking their selfishness. And it worked for them. Namjoon’s head fell back, lost in lust as his thrust quickened.

“Fuck, Baby, you feel so good around my cock.”

She could only moan back in response.

“I love you so much, Y/N.”

Her eyes popped open as her hands dropped to his shoulders. “What the fuck did you say?”

The look on his face was of utter shock. “I–”

“Get the fuck off me,” she snapped.

Shoving him away after he placed her back on the ground, she avoided stepping on the glass as she gathered her things.

“Babe, let's talk about this.”

“There is nothing to discuss with you anymore. I’m done. You get your priorities together, Namjoon, or so help me.”

She placed her coat over her shoulders, slipped her heels on, and walked away without a word. All he could do was drop to the couch in disbelief.

What was he doing?

---

Y/N watched as Haneul ran around the playground with a smile spread across her face. It made her happy to see her daughter having so much fun. She sometimes regretted not giving her a sibling, especially since she came from a large family. But that time had passed in her mind. Would she want to go through it again? Would Jin even want to?

She shook the thoughts away as Haneul ran up to her, breathing hard.

“Eomma, did you see me in the jungle gym?”

“I did! You’ve gotten faster!”

“Appa helped last time,” she said with a smile.

Y/N strained a smile back as Haneul sat next to her. “Oh, he did.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I see.”

Haneul looked out at the scenery for a moment before speaking up again. “Is Appa going to come back to live with us?”

It was only a matter of time before Haneul questioned what was happening. She was far too observant of a child not to. Y/N dreaded the day it would come, but keeping her daughter in the dark wasn't fair.

“Next time Appa is with us, we’ll sit down and talk to you about it, okay?”

It seemed to satisfy her, and she got up again to play on the swings now that they were unoccupied.

“Mind if I sit here?”

She saw Namjoon standing beside her, holding three drinks in a carrier. She gestured for him to sit as she focused on Haneul.

“How are you doing, Y/N?”

“All things considered, I’m alright. Yourself?”

“More or less fine.”

“Good,” she answered.

He held out a cup to her with a small smile. “I got your favorite–a vanilla matcha latte, right?”

She took it from his hands with a tiny nod. “Yes. Thanks.”

After a minute of silence, Y/N spoke up. “We’ll have to explain things to Haneul at some point, and she’s asking many questions.”

He sipped his drink, taking in what she was asking. “When should we?”

“Sooner than later. I’m returning to work this week– maybe in a week or two. You can come over for dinner.”

He tried not to show too much emotion on his face. He hadn’t returned to their place in ages, and maybe this was the way back into their lives.

“Sounds good. I’ll call you to discuss details.”

Haneul noticed Namjoon as her eyes lit up. She jumped off the swings, much to Y/N’s protest, running up to her father and hugging him.

“Appa!”

“BunBun!”

She chatted animatedly with him as Y/N watched on. It almost felt like old times, and it was practically the calm before an even more significant storm— one they weren’t prepared for.

---

Y/N washed her hands as she turned to her patient with a warm smile. “I’ll send my nurse in to administer your shot. I’ll have your new prescription ready at the reception desk, and you can schedule a follow-up with me in six weeks.”

Walking out, she almost collided with one of the Nurse Practitioners.

“Oh, Dr. Kim!”

Y/N’s lips pressed thin as she stared at her unmoving. The woman felt uneasy under her gaze.

“You should be more aware of your surroundings, Tiffany,” she murmured with a slight edge.

Tiffany muttered an apology as she cast her eyes down at the ground. “Apologies, I haven't been in the right headspace today.”

Y/N shook her head, still lacking her normal empathy. “Maybe you should have taken the day off–”

Suddenly Tiffany hunched over, vomiting right in front of Y/N all over the floor. Nurses looked up from their computers and rushed over, fussing at Tiffany. A few bowed to Y/N as they ushered her away. Something felt off to Y/N. Her stomach twisted in knots. Giving the front desk her instructions, she rushed off in the direction they walked off with Tiffany. She found her in the physician's lounge in one of the beds. With a cold compress on her head, she brushed off the nurses standing around her. Once they noticed Y/N standing there, they hurried away, avoiding her gaze.

As Tiffany began to sit up, Y/N shook her head.

“No need to do that. Rest.”

She sat on the edge of the bed, staring hard at the lines in the hardwood.

“Dr. Kim–”

“How long?”

Tiffany’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

The sound that left Y/N's mouth was equal parts exhaustion and exasperation. Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she met her gaze.

“You can stop playing innocent, Tiffany. Admit it. You’re pregnant.”

Silent tears fell as she covered her face away from Y/N. “How did you know?”

“Doesn’t matter. How far along are you?”

“I have an appointment tomorrow to find out.”

“Does he know?”

“No. I don’t know what to do.”

“You’ll figure it out,” she exited the room. “But you need to tell him. I mean it.”

As Y/N closed the door behind her, she felt the air deflating from her lungs. The lump in her throat grew as she nearly ran back to her office.

Once the door shut, she slid to the floor and sobbed quietly.

Things were always going to be different now.

---

If looks could kill.

Y/N and Jin sat across from Namjoon and Tiffany in the restaurant, and her ex looked as pissed as she felt. When Y/N suggested dinner, the last thing he expected was to see Jin sitting across from him.

So they were together. His temper rose by the minute, but he had to keep it in check. Otherwise, Y/N would have more arsenal to use against them in their case.

He sipped his whiskey, trying to seem interested in the small talk, but he couldn’t help but notice Y/N's body language with Jin. Nothing like his, and that didn’t sit well with him.

“I’m curious as to why you called this dinner, Y/N,” he said, interrupting the conversation.

Y/N set her fork down to glance at Namjoon. “Well, it only seemed fair to get everything out in the open. You and Tiffany are starting a family, and I have been seeing Seokjin for some time now.”

“Isn't this a bit extreme?”

“No. I don’t think so. Let’s look at the facts; Tiffany is...what, three months pregnant. If you look at the time frame–”

Jin put his hand over Y/N’s. “Honey, maybe this isn’t the place.”

She snatched her hand away. “No, I’m going to finish my thought,” her eyes flashed in anger and hurt at her soon-to-be ex-husband, “The timeframe shows that she got pregnant while we were still together before the separation. Legally, this breaks our clause, so you better sign the papers, Namjoon, or I will make your life hell. I mean it.”

Namjoon slammed his glass down, scowling at Y/N. “You think I wanted this to happen?!”

“Don’t play the victim here. You both are guilty and knew what the fuck you were doing. I’m tired of all this. Just let our marriage go, Namjoon. I’ve moved on, and you need to do the same.”

She was throwing it away like that. Tiffany tried to console him, but he moved away from her as he pouted. Jin cleared his throat, looking at him.

“I care about Y/N. Can you see what this is doing to her? It’s better this way.”

The last thing she wanted was to shed more tears for this man, but she stood so fast the chair fell back from her seat.

“I loved you unconditionally, Namjoon. Did any of it mean anything? I wanted this marriage to work and I poured my life into it. We wanted our family to grow, and you ruined it for selfish reasons. I’m done. Officially. Goodbye, Namjoon.”

She got up and ran out of the restaurant. Jin nodded to the remaining couple, grabbed his and Y/N’s things, and walked outside. From his position, he could see Jin wrapping Y/N in his arms. She leaned into his touch, letting him take care of her. He kissed the top of her head, making a smile appear on her face. He took her hand, kissed her knuckles, and led her away.

Tiffany turned to stare at Namjoon, questioning the last few minutes.

“What are you going to do about this?”

Namjoon called for the waiter to refill his glass. He watched the amber liquid pour into his drink and nodded once it was filled. Raising his glass to Tiffany, he brought the glass to his lips.

“Cheers.”

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