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jpmarvel90 · 10 months

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Don't let me down - Mini Series

Masterlist Scarlett Masterlist

Relationship: MamaScarlett x 16 yr old Reader

Summary: Y/n is shocked to learn that her biological mother wants to get in contact with her. She's even more shocked when she finds out who she is. However, after the troubled childhood she's had, can she find it in her to forgive her?

Word count: 10266

Y/n's POV:

Being called into the main office at the foster home was never a good thing. I've lost count of the times that I have left there with a new bruise or cut. I never understood why someone would want to run a home like this if they hated children. But Mr Woodstock did it anyway. It's not even like it pays well. He's barely able to keep up with his smoking and drinking habits. Food for us kids being the last thing on his mind some weeks. So, I can only guess that he does it because he gets a genuine kick out of being a dick to kids.

I'm 16 and have been in this particular home for 18 months. Before that I was living with my adoptive parents. In the grand scheme of things, this foster home was heaven compared to where I lived with my parents. If you could even call them that. For nearly 15 years I was treated like shit. I was at my parents' beck and call for whatever they wanted or needed doing.

My weekends and evenings were spent cleaning or cooking for them. I didn't have time for friends. I was to go to school and come straight home. If they could, I'm sure they would have not allowed me to go to school. But they didn't get permission to home school me, so it was the only solace that I had.

I never knew love. I would see parents pick their kids up from school with smiles on their faces, hugging them tightly. At lunch, most kids had a lunch prepared by their parents. I was lucky if I was given a dollar to get a chocolate bar. I was constantly reminded of the life I didn't have.

I've always known that I was adopted. Apparently, my parents were doing a favour to a friend that was a social worker. They almost resented that they had agreed to adopt me. I'm a kid not a dog. It's not something that you do as a favour. But they treated me like it was my fault that they were stuck with me. They made my life hell because of it.

I tried to talk to my teachers about what was going on at home. I'd show them the bruises and tell them what they would make me do, but when I got told that I was overreacting, I stopped trying. I had to accept that this was my life, and no one was going to help me.

There was a slither of hope 18 months ago when my parents died in a car accident. I knew that I would be moved into a foster home, but I thought that it wouldn't be as bad as my home was. Which was true, but it wasn't far off it. Turns out that Mr Woodstock is friends with the same social worker as my parents and I was left here to spend the last two years or my childhood.

I felt wrong for not mourning my parents. I felt guilty that I was happy. For a brief time anyway. I thought that maybe I would get a chance to have some happy years in my childhood. But life is cruel, and it wasn't meant to be. I just need to hang on until I'm able to move from this godforsaken home and try and make something for myself.

The only brightside of the foster home is that there is a lot more freedom. We have some chores around the home, but with the number of kids there, we get it done quite easily. The rest of the time, I just try and avoid being around the home. It's too much of a risk if Mr Woodstock catches you when he's drunk or hungover.

Since being in the home, I actually had the chance to make friends. I joined the soccer club after school as an excuse to not go home and I loved it. For the first time, I felt like I belonged somewhere. Coach Sanders is great and it's my favourite time of the week. Through the team I've made some great friends. Laura is my best friend. She's a complete goof and I love spending time with her.

She knows everything about me. The only person who does. She lets me stay at her house when I can, has me over in the evenings to prolong the time before I have to head back to the home. We're both hoping to get a scholarship to a D1 college. For me, it's the only way I'll be able to go. I have no money behind me and no parents to help. But if I could get a scholarship, I wouldn't have to worry.

Our number one choice is Pittsburgh. Laura has family there and for me, it's far enough away from New York that perhaps I could start my life off new. Make a life for myself in the steel city. But there are still two years left of school yet before any of that can happen. But it's my motivation. It makes me work hard in school and get the best grades that I can. Maybe I can make something of my life after all.

Anyway, back to being called into Mr Woodstock's office. I make my way downstairs, hesitant to open the door. But knowing the longer I take, the more I'll be punished, I swallow down the fear and push the door open. "Sir, you asked for me." I greet him, my eyes on the floor. "Ah yes. Y/n. Please come in and take a seat." His chipper voice takes me off guard. I look up and see the reason for it. A man in a suit is sat opposite him with a warm smile.

"This here is Mr Osborne. He would like to talk to you. I will give you a minute of privacy." Mr Woodstock introduces the man before standing from behind his desk and vacating the office. "Ms Y/l/n. It's a pleasure to meet you. Please just call me Danny." The man in the suit holds his hand out to me and I reluctantly take it. My senses are heightened, not sure what his intensions are. My history in these situations hasn't been good.

"It's ok. You're safe. I'm not going to hurt you." He reassures me, obviously sensing my nerves. My body instantly relaxes at his words, and I hesitantly shake his hand. "How can I help you Sir?" I ask him, taking a seat next to him. "I'm a lawyer and I represent your biological mother." He explains. I instantly gasp at his words, never thinking that I would know anything more about my biological parents.

"She would like to reach out to you and perhaps potentially meet you." He carries on explaining whilst I just sit there in shock. She wants to meet me. Why now? "Would that be something that you are interested in?" Danny asks me, his voice remaining calm. I don't respond, my mind is going a mile a minute. "There is no pressure to do so at all. Everything will be on your terms. If you make the decision to not meet her, then that is completely fine." He tells me.

I rub my hands up and down the tops of my legs. My palms feeling sweaty. What do I do? I never thought I would get this opportunity. Do I even want to meet this woman? My life is hell. There were days I would wish that I wouldn't wake up and it's all because of my adoptive parents. "I uh. I'm not sure." I finally find my voice, not wanting to be rude. From experience, if you don't respond to an adult's question, it doesn't end well.

"That's ok Y/n. There is no pressure to do anything that you're not comfortable with." He kindly says, but I can't help the scoff that comes out. I've been made to do many things that I'm not comfortable with and no adult has given a damn in the past. He instantly frowns at my reaction, and I panic. "Uh. Could you perhaps tell me a little about her?" I ask him, hoping that might help me to make my decision.

"Of course. Though I have to warn you that it may all be a bit of a shock to you." He says with a bit of a chuckle. I sit back more in my chair, feeling more comfortable around Danny. He seems kind and I'm not waiting for the moment that his mood changes. "Her name is Scarlett. She is 38 and lives in the Upper East Side in Manhattan." He starts off. "Wow. Upper East Side? That's fancy." I reply to which he chuckles. I guess she didn't give me up because money was an issue!

"You may have heard of Scarlett. Her last name is Johansson and she's an actress." At his words, my mouth drops open. Ok this has to be some kind of a joke. "Ok, this isn't fair. You know, it's not nice to play tricks on foster kids. We're not just here for you to get your kicks out of." I hiss angrily, standing up to leave. I'm not here to be the butt of someone's sick joke. Before I can pass him, he quickly reaches out to grab my arm. "What? No wait. Please Y/n. I'm not lying. I would never. Please just sit." He falters over his words but quickly releases my wrist when he sees that my wide eyed gaze is fixated on his hand. "I'm sorry." He apologises, his eyes showing regret.

I hesitantly retake my seat and allow him to carry on. "Scarlett was 22 when she put you up for adoption. It was a very hard decision for her. But she is very keen to meet up with you now. She asked me to come and see you specifically to tell you." He says and I can see the truth behind his words. It's something that I've become good at over the years. I can see when someone is lying. "Why now?" I ask, unsure what could possibly make her want to see me now.

"Well, she's been trying to find you for a couple of years now. But with the adoption, she wasn't able to contact you directly. When you got moved back into the foster home, her rights changed, and she is able to do so now. I'm very sorry to hear about your parents by the way." He explains, his voice laced with sympathy as he spoke of my parents. Again, I had to fight the scoff, if only he knew. "Scarlett understands that this is all going to be a lot for you to process. But she is willing to meet you somewhere that you feel most comfortable. Perhaps here..." "No." I quickly cut him off. Probably a little too quickly as I see concern flash in his eyes. "Ok, that's not a problem. We can arrange for you to meet her somewhere you feel safe and comfortable." He adjusts his comment.

I fiddle with my fingers as I think over the request. I've never wanted to meet my biological parents. I have too much anger towards them. But I also have so many questions for them. Maybe if I know that she is a horrible person herself, then it will make the fact that I grew up in hell a little easier to bare. "Ok." I mumble, not confident in my answer. "Really?" Danny asks, a smile growing on his face. I simply nod and I can't help but notice his excitement growing. "Oh, she's going to be so happy that you accepted. Where would you like to meet?" He asks, taking out a pen from his bag.

I think for a moment where I feel most comfortable. "There's a café on Franklin Avenue near Prospect Park. It's called Cuppa Joe's." I tell him. It's my favourite place to go. Laura and I visit most days and on Thursdays we come with the team after practice. "Ok. I'll confirm when she is free and confirm with Mr Woodstock the time and date." Danny tells me, closing his pad and packing his things away. He then hands me a card. "Please, contact me if you need anything. I've noted my personal mobile on the back too." I take the card and flip it over and sure enough see his number. "Uh. Thanks." I smile, shaking his held out hand.

I walk him to the door, still in a slight state of shock. But before I know it, my feet are taking me to my room to grab my bag and then they're hitting the pavement taking me to Laura's house.

Safe to say she was a lot more squealy when she heard the news. She is a complete Marvel geek. Don't get me wrong, I like the movies, but Laura reads the comics and has watched every movie at least 10 times. "This is amazing Y/n." She says when she finally calms down. But my mood doesn't match hers. "Isn't it?" She clarifies when she sees how my mood has changed. "Talk to my Y/n/n." She says turning to face me more.

"She already has a family. She's married with two kids. What could she possibly want with me? Is it just so she can clear her conscience that she made the right decision 16 years ago?" I share my feelings with Laura, who's face contorts with empathy. "Oh Y/n. Maybe she wants to have you in her life? Make things right again." She tries to make me look on the brightside. But as someone who never gets a silver lining, it's hard to do.

"She's gone on to live this amazing life all because she gave me up, whilst I was living in constant fear. Never knowing when the next beating was coming, wondering if my life was ever going to get any better. The sad thing is, I consider this foster home better! This is the best my life has been, and it is still something no kid should have to go through." I admit, tears starting to fall down my face.

I hated being this vulnerable, but Laura was the one person I felt safe being around. She quickly engulfs me in a hug. She hates that there is very little she can do. But what she doesn't know is she is the light, the one good thing in my life. "I know that nothing will change your past, but maybe this can change your future for the better. If nothing else, you can get some closure and then we focus on our future at college!" She says reassuring me.

"I'm scared." I admit. Although I'm not in a safe environment, I know it and I know what I can do to protect myself as best I can. But this is something I have no control over. An adult I don't know and don't know their intentions. I lose control over the situation. "I know that you don't know what is waiting for you. But no matter what happens, I will be there for you. I will always be here for you Y/n/n." She comforts me, placing a kiss against my head.

I stay for dinner at Laura's, and we talk more about everything, and she is being her usual amazing self and giving me the best advice. I really am so lucky to have her in my life.

Eventually, I have to head home. I give Laura a big hug and start my journey back to the home. When I get inside, I'm met by a sober Mr Woodstock, which is very unusual. "Y/n!" He calls me and I flinch slightly. He walks closer to me, and I hold my breath, waiting for the scolding that is coming my way. "Here. All the info for meeting your mom." He says with a smile. I take the note from his hand, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Here's some money for a taxi to take you." He adds on, holding out a 20 dollar bill. I hesitate but he waves it to me. "Not trick here Y/n." He smiles so I take it and make my way upstairs. Ok that was weird.

I read the note and see that she wants to meet on Friday at 4pm. That works well as I can get from school to the café in plenty of time. It's only two days away and it's scary to think that I'm going to be meeting my bio mom. It's even scarier to think that it's Scarlett Johansson.

__________

I'm currently sat in the café waiting for Scarlett to turn up. With the taxi, I was able to get here 15 minutes early. I pick a table in the corner out of the way. I'm sure she doesn't want to be too much in the open. I spend my time texting Laura, who is doing a great job at supporting me. I order a hot chocolate, knowing that having too much caffeine right now is probably not a good thing.

I can feel my nerves growing as the clock slowly ticks towards 4. My eyes keep falling to the door every time I hear the bell go. My heart rate spiking each time, only to calm when I see it's not her.

10 minutes go by, then 20 and there is still no sign of her. Maybe this was all some big joke and Mr Woodstock is watching me, getting a kick out of a new way to abuse me mentally. I finish my hot chocolate and as the clock hits half past 4, I decide that enough is enough. I'm not waiting anymore. Even if this isn't some big joke, the fact that she hasn't turned up tells me everything that I need to know.

Fighting off tears, I collect my bag and slip some money into the tip jar as I make my way out of the café. I instantly start to walk towards the park, taking a seat on the closest bench. She didn't turn up. I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. Why did I think that anything was going to go right for me. This isn't some fairy tale where we all live happily ever after. I grab my phone and text Laura.

Y/n: She didn't come

It's all I can say. Anything more and it makes my heart ache more. She didn't come. She stood me up. She wanted to meet me. She instigated this and decided that she wasn't going to show. I was happy in my dark little world. I knew the threats and what could hurt me. I knew how to keep that to a minimum. It wasn't a good life, but it was a life I knew and saw an exit to. I should never have even entertained the idea of meeting Scarlett. She was happy to leave me once, why would she want to follow through this time.

I get lost in my own dark thoughts, questioning my self-worth. No one has or will ever want me. As if the world wants to add to my misery, rain starts to fall. But I don't move. It's weirdly comforting as my tears mix with the raindrops that hit my cheeks. It feels like my heart is cracking. Which is stupid. I don't know this woman. She just happened to birth me and now disappoint me once again.

Scarlett's POV:

For 16 years I have woken up every morning and wondered what my daughter would be doing. From the moment I signed the adoption papers I regretted it. But it was the right choice. I couldn't give her the life she deserved, at least this way, she was able to have a family that could devote time to her and love her. My career was just starting to take off and having a child wouldn't have been fair to either of us.

My parents offered to help, but I didn't want to be an absentee mother when another could provide her with the home she deserved. When I had Rose, was when I started to look for Y/n. But I wasn't able to do so until she was 18. I had signed my parental rights away and unless Y/n made the decision to reach out to me, I wasn't able to do anything.

It was almost torture waiting for the days to pass so I could get in contact with her. When I married Colin, I told him everything, that I wanted to reach out and have a relationship with her. He was really supportive of me and said that he couldn't wait to meet her, and that Rose and Cosmo would love having an older sister.

I was shocked, however, when my lawyer contacted me to say that Y/n had been moved to a foster home. I had a meeting with Danny where I learnt that Y/n's parents had been killed in a car accident and that there was no immediate family to take her in. So, she became a child of the state and because of her age, was moved to a group home. This was my chance to see her. To try and have a relationship with my daughter. One that I had craved for years.

Colin and I were waiting anxiously for Danny to come by after visiting Y/n. We decided it would be best if he went and met her to arrange for me to see her separately, once she had a chance to take it all in. It killed me that she was so close, yet so far from me. "Scar, babe. Sit down. He'll be here soon." Colin tries to calm me by placing a hand on my shoulder. I go to respond, but the knock at the door has me rushing through the house to answer it.

I let out a sigh of relief when I see Danny at the door. "Hi. Please come in." I greet him, holding the door open to him. He follows me through to the living room where Colin is waiting. We offer him a drink and then get down to business. "How was she? Did she agree to meet me?" I ask quickly, which causes Danny to chuckle. "She was rightfully shocked. At first, she thought that it was a joke and tried to leave." He explains. "But I managed to convince her to hear me out." He adds on and I relax.

I can't imagine what it must all be like for her. Losing your parents, moving into a group home, and now being told your biological mother is a famous actress. "She has agreed to meet you and has suggested a café that she visits regularly in Brooklyn. It seems like it's a safe space for her." He shares and I let out a little sob knowing that she has agreed to see me. "I can't believe it. I'm going to meet my daughter." I cry whilst Colin holds me close.

"Did you talk much? Is she happy? What's she like?" I rattle off questions, but I see that Danny falters and it makes my heart stop. "What's wrong?" I question and he sighs. "It's nothing, we'll just focus on the meeting." He tries to deflect but I don't allow him. "No. Please share what it is." I request, causing him to sigh once again. "It's just a feeling. It's probably nothing." He defends, but he's struggling to make eye contact.

Danny has been my lawyer for years. He's a good friend and I like to think I can read him. He's great at his job and a gut feeling for him is more often than not, right. "Danny." I say lowly, showing that I'm not wanting to mess around. "I just have some concerns. I plan to do a bit of investigating and then I can confirm more." He explains.

I feel my breathing hitch. "What concerns? And don't tell me it's nothing." I snap at him, waiting expectantly for an answer. "She shows signs that she may have been abused. She was extremely nervous in not only mine, but also the care home manager's presence. I had to convince her that she was safe so she would sit with me. It was obvious that she doesn't feel safe in that home and when I touched her, she flinched and was hyper focused on the touch." He shares and I think that my heart broke in that moment. "But she's been through a lot. Her parents haven't long passed, and she's been uprooted into a new home. A care home at that. Surely that could explain it." Colin suggests, but I can tell by Danny's look, there is more.

"That's the thing. When I brought up her parents, she almost looked relieved. It's something I couldn't put my finger on, but it just didn't feel right." There was a silence as we let his words sink in. Danny has been in the game for a long time. Any gut feeling is based off of years of experience. He works a lot with foster kids and if he thinks something is up, it's most likely that it is. "Mr Woodstock gave me information on her previous family, and I plan to do some research and pull together some information. Which I will of course share with you, but it may take a few days though." He says and I nod, not trusting my words in this moment.

Fear washes over me at the thought that my daughter wasn't in fact in a safe and loving home. The thought that someone might have hurt her makes me feel sick to my stomach. What makes it all worse is that it's all my own fault. She could be with me, safe and sound, but I was selfish and put my career first.

"I know this is a lot to take in. But for now, let's arrange a meet up and we can go from there." Danny offers with a warm smile. "Ok. Let's get something in sooner rather than later. I don't want to wait too long to meet her." I say, instantly grabbing my phone to find some time to meet her.

Friday ends up being the best day. I'm filming in the morning but have the afternoon off so I can meet up with her after she's finished school. Colin agrees that I'll go on my own to start off with and if things go well, then he'll come along next time. It makes my heart swell every time he talks about her. He's almost as excited to meet her as I am. I just can't wait for Friday to come around. I finally get to meet my little girl.

__________

I couldn't be any angrier. Shooting has over run and I'm currently rushing to my trailer to get changed so I can go and meet Y/n. I was meant to finish at 12 but it's now half past 3 and I'm only just getting off set. The director tries to stop me to talk, but I quickly tell him that I have an appointment that I simply cannot miss and will call him later.

My heart feels like it's going to thump through my chest as I sit in the car on the way to the café. It's all the way on the other side of the city in Brooklyn and I watch as the clock ticks over 4pm. I'm late. This is really not a good start. I just hope that she will wait for me. When I finally pull up at the café, I jump out the car and see that its' 5pm. Fuck, she's not going to be here.

I rush in the café and a few heads look up at me as I frantically look around. I don't see her anywhere. I take a deep breath and make my way over to the counter. "Hi, excuse me." I greet the older lady who gives me a warm smile. "Yes dear. How can I help you?" She asks. "I'm looking for a girl. Her name is Y/n and I think she comes in here quite regularly." I explain and her smile grows wider. "Ah yes. We see Y/n a few times a week. But I'm sorry you missed her. She left in a bit of a hurry about 30 minutes ago." She informs me and my heart sinks. "Oh ok. Do you have any idea of where she might go?" I ask but she shakes her head. "Anywhere but home." She answers and then turns to the customer who has just walked in.

I make my way back into the car and sob. I'm sure my driver thinks that I've lost it, but I've screwed up. I've blown my only chance to meet my daughter. I just wanted to make things right. To help calm me down, I call Colin, who listens and helps to stop me falling into a panic attack. "You need to try and find her. She is probably thinking that it was done on purpose and is hurting right now." He says whilst I nod into the phone. "Start with the home." He says but I quickly disagree. "The lady in the café said she'd be anywhere but home." I inform him. "Well, that's not a good sign." He mumbles which just makes my panic increase again. "You've got nowhere else to start. They might know where she is and it's already getting late, so you never know, she might have gone home already." Colin talks sense.

I agree and then decide to call Danny. I explain what happened and he agrees to meet me at the group home. But this time it's already getting close to 7pm and I'm becoming more desperate by the minute. Danny and I both pull up at the same time and he is quick to stop me. "What?" I snap at him, but he just grips me tighter. "You need to take a minute ok. You can't go in there all worked up." He says sternly. I listen to him, knowing that he's right.

It's late and I pray that she's come home. We walk to the entrance, and I knock on the door. We're greeted by an older looking man and instantly the smell of alcohol is evident. I look towards Danny who has a harsh look on his face. "We're here to see Y/n Y/l/n." Danny tells him but the guy laughs. "She's not here." He slurs and it makes my anger build.

I feel a hand on my arm as Danny tries to calm me. "Mr Woodstock. Would you know where she might be? Ms Johansson here missed her appointment with her and would like to see her." He says calmly. "It's still early, she probably won't be home until later. She's probably at a friend's house." He states, clearly no longer interested in this conversation. "She's in your charge, how can you not know where she is?" I bark at him and his gaze snaps to mine. "I wasn't the one to stand her up." He snarls before turning to leave.

But before the door can shut, we hear a girl calling out from behind us. "Mr Woodstock!" He stops in his tracks and looks the girl up and down. "I'm Laura, Y/n's friend." She says and he nods. "I remember." He gets a smarmy smirk on his face, and it makes me feel sick. "She was supposed to come to mine this evening, but she didn't turn up. Is she home?" She asks, worry lacing her voice.

"No, she's not back yet. Check back tomorrow." He says and slams the door. "Fuck." I hear the girl mutter and turn to leave. "Wait!" I call after her and she stops, turning to look at me. "You know Y/n?" I question her. She's shocked when she sees me, but that shock soon turns to anger. "What do you want?" She growls at me. "I'm trying to find Y/n." I say but she laughs. "What so you can let her down again?" She asks with sass.

My mouth just opens and closes, unsure what to say. "It took a lot for her to agree to meet you. She's been through so much in her life. She deserves better. I told her that maybe you wanted to give her that. But I was wrong." Her voice seems broken. She clearly cares about Y/n a lot. The pain is evident in her voice. "Do you have her phone number?" Danny asks Laura and she nods. "Do you think you could share it with us?" He asks but she shakes her head. "No." She states firmly. I step forward, trying to hold it together. "Please. I just want to talk to her. Apologise." I say, fighting back the tears. "I'm not sharing her number with a stranger. Besides, she's not even responding to me right now, so I doubt she'd respond to you." She scoffs.

She's right. That is all I am to her. I have loved her even though she wasn't in my life, but for her, I'm just the woman who gave her up. I quickly fumble in my bag for a pen and scrap of paper. "Here." I say, holding the paper out to Laura. "This is my number. Please just let me know when you know she's safe." I say, practically begging her to take my number. She sighs but takes it with a nod of her head.

I watch as she walks away then turn to Danny. "What do we do? What if she's hurt?" I agonise. "There's not much we can do at the moment. She's not been gone long enough for a missing person's report. As annoying as it is, Mr Woodstock is right. It's still early and she may just be out and about. It seems like she avoids being here as much as she can anyway." He logically explains. "I want to stay here." I tell Danny who looks at me shocked. "I just want to make sure she gets home. I won't bother her." I tell him and he nods. "I'll stay with you. If she's not back home by midnight I can contact a friend at the NYPD." He offers and I pull him into a grateful hug.

So, that's what we do. I send my driver home and Danny and I sit in his car, our eyes on the group home, waiting for Y/n to come home. The closer it gets to midnight, the more worry I feel. I keep checking my phone to see if Laura has texted me but nothing.

It's 11:45 and I see a dark shadow getting closer to the house. "Is that her?" I ask. Although I've seen pictures of her, Danny is the only one to have met her face to face. He looks up and nods. I start to cry when I see her dejected form. Her head hanging low, he clothes soaked through from the rain. I reach for the door handle, but before I touch it, Danny stops me. "Don't Scarlett. We'll come by tomorrow and see if she'll meet you. But it's late and this is highly inappropriate." He tells me. Every part of my body wants to ignore him and go to her. To apologise profusely. But my head tells me that he's right. I want to do this the proper way.

He drives me home and Colin is waiting at the door for me. I practically fall into his arms sobbing. "I'll come by tomorrow. I'll have the full report ready for you and we'll go through it together. Then we'll head to the group home and see if she'd be willing to meet you." Danny says as I enter the house. "Thank you. I appreciate everything you're doing." I tell him honestly. I don't know what I would have done without him!

I don't sleep much at all that night. Every time sleep approached, I would remember that I let her down twice now. That I don't deserve to have the chance to have her in my life. But I know that I will do everything in my power to make sure that she is. It's selfish, but I want to give her the life she deserves. The one that I should have given her when she was born.

When morning eventually comes round, Colin gets up with me to make me eat something for breakfast. He had dropped the kids around my mom's house last night so we could have the time to sort everything out. My mom was more than happy to help. She's so excited that Y/n might be a part of our lives again.

At 10am, Danny arrives and comes in with a file in hand. My heart rate picks up as I know we're about to get a much clearer story of what Y/n's life has been like. He takes a seat, and I instantly can tell that whatever is in that file isn't good. Danny wouldn't be a good poker player, that's for sure. "Ok. So, I've done some in depth research into Y/n's life and I believe that I have a much clearer picture of things. But I must warn you that some of this may not be easy listening." He isn't one to beat around the bush, but hearing those words makes my breathing hitch.

"Y/n was adopted by Phil and Katie Y/l/n. They lived in Brooklyn the whole time. I have spoken with her schools and was able to get a better picture of her life. She didn't do any after school clubs and was very isolated. She would rush to get home each day and often would worry if she was late. She did raise concerns with two of her teachers when she was 11, but both teachers deemed that she was over-reacting." He starts off, placing school reports out in front of us. "What were the concerns?" I ask, a fire building within. "In the report, she said her parents were mean and weren't nice to her. They directly quoted her. They note a couple of bruises but claim they could have been from anything." Danny explains, a frown on his own face.

"The school reports after these days show that Y/n became more secluded and insular. However, she was at an underfunded school that didn't have the resources to be able to support her. She effectively gets lost in the system." Danny shares. I squeeze Colin's hand tighter, needing any comfort that I could get. "I also have her hospital records." Danny starts and I hear the hesitation in his voice. "She was admitted on a number of occasions for injuries ranging from broken bones to lacerations. On her 10th visit, one of the doctors referred her back to the social worker with concerns of abuse. However, it seems like this went no further than that." Danny shares, with a look of pity on his face.

"This is where things get a bit more difficult." He starts. "More difficult than the fact that it seems like my daughter was in an abusive home yet was failed by both the educational and social systems?" I snap. How could this get any worse? "It seems that Y/n's social worker arranged the adoption with her parents and then moved her into this particular group home once they passed. It's actually outside of Y/n's school district so wouldn't be a suitable placement. On further investigation, I have the belief that they were working to take money from the state through the adoption and fostering of Y/n." His explanation shows how she was only seen a pawn in their game for a quick buck.

"I've contacted the NYPD and given them all the evidence that I have, and they are going to start an investigation. However, until they have more concrete evidence, they won't be able to move Y/n or any of the children from Mr Woodstock's care. It could take a couple of weeks and from there she would then be moved to another care home." He informs us. I'm glad that they are being investigated, but it's not quick enough. I need her to be safe now.

"Can we take her in? She's my daughter after all." I ask, but the drop of Danny's gaze makes me fear his answer. "That is where things get a bit tricky. When you put Y/n up for adoption, you signed away your parental rights. You would have to get approved to be a foster carer first and then have to go through the courts to adopt Y/n. Through all of this Y/n would have to consent as she's 16." He explains. "Well, can we get an application started so we can at least start that process? We can then work towards adoption." Colin steps in and I smile at his confidence and commitment.

"Of course, if that's what you both want. We may be able to petition the state to speed the process along as you are her birth mother. But you'd have to go before a judge." Danny responds. "Do it. I will do whatever I have to do to get her back in our lives." I tell Danny firmly. "Do you agree Colin?" He asks, moving his gaze to my husband. "I 100% support Scarlett. We discussed this when she wanted to approach Y/n. The end goal was always to have her back with us." He says with a smile, leaning down to place a kiss to my head. "Ok, well I'll start the petition later today." Danny smiles, taking a note in his pad in front of him.

"Can we still go and visit her this afternoon?" I ask, unsure if it's still the right thing to do. "We can try, but it's important that we do this all on Y/n's terms. She's not had any adults in her life support her like she has needed. She has been failed on a number of occasions and we need to make sure she is comfortable before proceeding." Danny tells me. "Of course. I only want what's best for her." I respond.

"Ok. Well, I'll call My Woodstock and arrange a meeting this afternoon. In the meantime, I can leave her file with you if you'd like to read more. But please read it with care. There is a lot in there that isn't an easy read." He says whilst gathering his things. "I'll call you when I have a time to go and see her." He says, hugging us goodbye and heading out.

Colin and I take the time to read through the file. Danny was right, it was certainly not an easy read. With each page my heart broke even more. She had been through so much. She is 16 and never experienced a loving home. "I failed her." I whisper as I finish reading over her hospital record detailing each injury she had treated. It makes me wonder how many times she was hurt and they didn't take her to the hospital. "You didn't fail her Scarlett." Colin tries to defend but I shake my head.

"If I kept her, she wouldn't have gone to those monsters. She would have been loved. I was so selfish, putting myself and my career first. My parents offered to help and yet I didn't want the inconvenience." I start to cry as I fall into Colin's hold. "But you thought that she was going to go to a loving home. You had no control over that. She was used by a sick person in power. You had no way of knowing that. You trusted that the state would take care of her, but they are the ones that truly failed her." He tells me with conviction. "But." "No buts. Yes, yesterday could have gone better. But we'll go and see her today and start to make things right. We'll show her that we want to give her a home that she is worthy of. A family that loves her." He reassures me.

I couldn't be more grateful for this man. He has been so supportive through it all. I was terrified when I told him about Y/n. Worried that he might leave me, but he didn't. He asked me what I wanted and has been by my side ever since. I'm lucky to have him in my life.

Danny calls to confirm that we're heading over at 3pm. He's asked Mr Woodstock to not tell Y/n in fear she'll leave the home knowing that we're going. We meet Danny there a little before 3 and Colin says that he'll wait in the car until he's needed. I'm really nervous as I start walking towards the house. I have to fight the anger that is building when I think about the life Y/n has here and that Mr Woodstock isn't innocent in it all. But I need to keep my cool so I can keep Y/n safe.

We're guided through into an office space with a sofa and Mr Woodstock asks one of the girls to go and get Y/n. We take a seat and I'm sure I can feel my heart about to beat out of my chest. I'm actually about to meet my daughter. The next couple of minutes seems to drag by as Mr Woodstock tries to make small talk. Thankfully, there is finally a knock at the door and my head shoots up to look.

The door slowly creaks open, and I see Y/n walk in with her head down. "You asked to see me Mr Woodstock." Her voice is hoarse like she's been crying, and she hasn't even noticed anyone else is in the room. "Y/n we have guests. Please don't be rude and look up." Mr Woodstock exhales in frustration.

As she lifts her head her eyes land on me, and I see a sadness flash through them. That's until I see the dark bruising forming around her eye. I go to stand up but Danny places a hand on my knee. I then go to ask what happened, but Mr Woodstock is quickly out of his seat. I see Y/n flinch as he approaches her. "I thought I told you to cover that up." He hisses at her. "I'm sorry Sir. I didn't know you had guests." She quivered.

It is taking everything in me to not stand up and punch that asshole. I can see that Y/n is clearly fearful of him. Was he the one that did that to her?! "Well, it's too late now. Come in and see your visitors. I'll be in the living room." He says, marching out of the room, leaving Y/n stood with a slight shake to her body. I just want to engulf her in a hug and tell her that she's safe and that I'll never let anyone hurt her again. "I'm not sure if you remember me but we meet a few days ago." Danny starts calmly. "I remember you Mr Osborne." She speaks politely, though her gaze is fixated on her hands. "Please, call me Danny." He tells her with a smile. "Why don't you come and sit with us." He encourages her, holding his hand to point to the empty chair opposite us.

She slowly makes her way to the chair and takes a seat. "I would like to introduce you to Scarlett. She is your biological mother." Danny says, turning to me. Y/n doesn't look up and my smile falters. "Hi Y/n. It's an honour to meet you." I tell her, fighting back tears. I never thought I would find my daughter in a state like this. So, broken. But when I look at her, I see myself in her. She's got brown hair, but her facial features are just like mine.

"I am so sorry that I was late to meet you yesterday. I got held up at work and I didn't have a number to get hold of you with." I try to explain but her gaze doesn't move. "I went to the café, but the owner said that you had already left. So, I came here but you hadn't come back yet. I really am sorry. I never meant to leave you on your own. I was looking forward to seeing you more than anything. Please believe that." I practically beg her.

Her head slowly lifts, and she makes direct eye contact for me for the first time since she came in here. "It's ok. I'm used to being let down." She mumbles. "It's not ok Y/n. I made a promise to meet you and I was so excited. I should have done more to let you know that I was running late. I hope that you could maybe let me make it up to you." I tell her, wanting her to know that she shouldn't accept being let down. "I'll give you some time. I'll be just outside if you need me." Danny says, standing and leaving us be.

An awkward silence falls over us as I can't stop staring at her black eye. "How did you get that?" I ask her, pointing to her eye. "I fell." She responds bluntly. I don't believe her, but I don't want to push her just yet. Silence falls over us again whilst I think about what I want to say. "It was the biggest mistake. Giving you up." I tell her and that seems to get her attention. "Then why did you?" She asks, hurt evident across her face.

I sit forward so that our knees are almost touching. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I was 22 and my career was taking off. I made a selfish decision. But I soon realised the mistake I made, but I couldn't change it. I had signed away my parental rights." I explain, embarrassed by admitting my failings. "I couldn't contact you until you turned 18 or you contacted me. So, I just had to wait. But when your parents passed and you were returned to the care system, I was able to contact you directly." I explain how I was able to finally get in touch.

"I know that it may not seem like it after giving you up and missing our meeting yesterday, but I really want to get to know you Y/n. To have you in my life. My husband can't wait to meet you either." I tell her with a chuckle. But those words seem to do the opposite of what I hoped. "You have two children?" She asks me. "Well, I have three including you." I respond, trying to keep my smile on my face. "But you have two others that live with you." She clarifies and I nod. "You already have your family. I'm just a stranger." She sniffles.

I reach out and take her hand in mine. The flinch making my heart break even more. "No. You are the missing piece. You are my family. I may be a stranger to you, but I have spent every day loving you. Wishing that I had made a different decision all those years ago. I would wonder what you were doing and what you wanted to be when you grew up. I wondered if you liked sports and what type of music you liked. You were always on my mind." I tell her truthfully. "When I had Rose and Cosmo, it was a bittersweet moment. Each time it reminded me of the mistake I had made. That I could have had you in my life too. Being part of my family." I add on.

"Who's my father?" She asks, a question that I was expecting to come at some point. I look down a little ashamed. "I don't know. It was a one night stand. I didn't know his name." I admit. When I lift my gaze, I see hers already on me, studying me. "What is it you want from me?" She asks, almost with an annoyance to her voice. "Truthfully?" I ask her and she nods. "I would love to have a chance to be your mother. But I understand that you may not have the same desire." I tell her, feeling sick at the thought that she may never want to see me again.

"What do you want from all of this?" I ask her, turning the question back around. She sighs and rubs at her forehead as she formulates a response. "I have no idea." She chuckles lightly. "I never expected this to happen. It's all just a bit much." She admits and I nod understanding that this must all be overwhelming to her. "Would you want to be a part of my life?" I ask her tentatively, scared of what her response might be. "I really don't know Scarlett. I don't know you and although you say you love me, you don't know me either." She responds and I smile at her maturity.

"Then let's get to know each other. Spend time together. You can meet Colin and the kids. There would be no pressure on you at all. If this is something you don't want, then we can stop. As much as that would hurt, what is important is what you want." I share so she can see she has the control. "What would you tell your kids?" She asks. "I'd love to tell them the truth. But for now, if you're not comfortable with that, we can just say you're a friend and go from there." I offer up. There's a pause and silence falls once again as she thinks of her response. I feel like I'm holding my breath the whole time. "Ok. I think I'd like to get to know you. But..." My smile grows impossibly wide at her words, though it feels like my heart stops at the word but. "Please don't let me down again." She whispers, her whole body deflating.

I instantly give her hand a squeeze to gain her attention. "Hey. Listen to me." I say softly as I reach forward to wipe the tears falling down her cheeks. "I promise that you will come first. I will be here every step of the way. I will not let you down again. I just want you to be safe and happy." I tell her through my own tears. She only nods in return and I lean forward to pull her into a hug. She tenses initially but soon melts into it.

After we both calm down a little, I sit back and my gaze lands on her black eye once again. "Now can you tell me how you really got that?" I ask her and I see her tense once again. "I told you..." She starts but I quickly shake my head and step in. "I know that you didn't fall. Did Mr Woodstock do that to you?" I ask her cautiously. Her head drops but the small nod of confirmation doesn't go unnoticed. My breathing hitches at the thought and I feel anger rush through me. "Why?" I ask slightly more harshly than I intended.

When she doesn't answer, I reach out and take her hand, slowly rubbing my thumb over her knuckles. "He was mad that I was late home and that you and Danny came looking for me when he was drunk." She explains. "Is this the first time that he's done something like this? Are you safe here?" I question her, terrified of what she's going to say. The shake of her head shatters my already broken heart.

I wrap my arms around her trying to provide her any comfort that I can. "I promise you that I will keep you safe. I won't let him lay another finger on you." I promise her whilst gently rubbing my hands up and down her back. After a while, I go and let Danny in. Y/n explains what happened to her and Danny is straight onto the phone to the Police and Social Services.

As the police car arrives, I see Colin's face appear at the door, worry etched across it. "I'll be right back." I tell Y/n as she is with Danny and the police. I greet Colin and fall into his arms. He holds me tight and places a kiss against my head. "I saw the police and got worried. Is that her?" He asks, nodding his head behind me. I turn and smile when I see her. "Yeah. That's her." I confirm. "What happened to her face?" He asks and my body deflates. "Oh Scar." He says when the realisation hits him.

The police arrest Mr Woodstock after some of the other kids admitted that he had also hurt them. When social services arrived, Danny made sure to make them aware of the impending investigation onto Harry Lycett who was Y/n's social worker. He then returns to Colin and me. "What happens now?" I ask him. "They're arranging for temporary placements for the kids for the foreseeable future." He replies. "What about Y/n?" I ask, worried that I'm going to miss my chance. "She'll be found a foster home for the time being." He responds. "Can't she come with us?" I ask him in a panic.

Colin agrees with me as Danny sighs. "I'm not sure if that's possible. It's a Saturday and I won't be able to get in front of judge until Monday at the earliest." He shares sadly. He looks between Colin and I and sighs once again. "Give me a minute." He says, before heading towards one of the social workers.

We both wait anxiously for Danny to return. We watch him talk with the social worker who then makes a phone call. Eventually, he starts to make his way back over towards us and I can't tell what he's feeling. "Ok. I've spoken with the social worker and explained the situation. They have agreed to you having custody until Monday. After that, it'll be down to the judge to decide." He says and I let out a little squeal. "Scarlett don't get your hopes up. This could all be temporary." Danny tells me with a stern voice. "I know. But I have a chance. That's all I need." I respond with a smile. "Do you want to meet her?" I turn to face Colin and see his smile grow. He nods and I take his hand, walking back towards the office.

Y/n is sat in a chair on her own, fear across her face as she awaits her fate, her focus on fiddling with the hem of her shirt. This has been an overwhelming day for her. She's had to explain to the police what she's been through and now she's about to find out she's moving again. I take the seat next to her and Colin sits opposite. "Y/n, I'd like you to meet my husband, Colin." I introduce them. "Colin, this is my daughter Y/n." I say with a smile. I notice Y/n's head snap to look at me when I refer to her as my daughter and I see a slight tug at her lips. "It's lovely to meet you Y/n." Colin greets, holding his hand out.

Y/n takes it and gives it a firm shake. "You too Colin." She smiles. We chat for a little before Y/n turns to Danny, who's stood in the doorway. "What happens now?" She asks. Danny looks to me and nods, so I turn to fully face Y/n. "Social Services are closing the group home and finding alternative homes for everyone. Danny has spoken with the social workers, and they have agreed that you can stay with us this weekend until we're able to get our official fostering status." I explain, almost holding my breath as I wait for her response.

"Why are you getting your fosters license?" She asks. "Well, if things go well, we'd like to official adopt you. But we'd have to foster you first before the adoption could be processed." Colin steps in to show that he is just as involved in this decision as I am. "Wait, what?" She asks shocked. "I meant what I said Y/n. I want to be a mother to you. But if that's not what you want, then we can just foster you until you find an alternative home." I assure her, still hating the thought that she won't want to be a part of our family. "So, what do you say? Do you want to come home with us, and we can take it one day at a time?" I ask her with a shake to my voice.

It feels like time stops as I look at Y/n waiting for her to answer. My focus is on the 16 year old who's life has just been turned upside down, again. Internally, I'm begging that she's going to say yes. That I'll get a chance to give her the loving home that she deserves. After what seems like hours Y/n looks up to me opening her mouth. "Scarlett I...."

Part 2

#scarlett johansson x y/n #scarlett johansson fanfiction #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson #scarjo #celebrity fanfic

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writingseaslugs · 1 year

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Heartslabyul: Pocky Game

Sup! The long awaited Pocky Game for all the other dorms. I already did Diasomnia, and I will say these are going to be a bit shorter than what I did for Diasomnia. I mainly made those ones long because I wasn’t expecting to do every single dorm. Still, I hope you enjoy this fluff. Also the introduction is the same for each of the dorms, so if you’ve read it once, don’t feel pressured to read it again.

Disclaimer: All characters in this series are aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please do a quick read of THIS post.

Heartslabyul: Pocky Game

Apparently, no matter what world you end up in, there will always be some delicious biscuit coated in chocolate that comes in a stick form. You discovered it one lovely day when shopping for some snacks at Sam’s, and the moment you noticed them, you grabbed several boxes. They were a delicious treat, but there was something else you wanted to do with them. You chuckled as you got home, putting the bag down and grabbing your phone, messaging a certain someone if they wanted to hang out and have snacks.

“Hey, henchman!” Grim said, crawling onto the counter and going through the bags of snacks and other miscellaneous groceries you two needed for the week, “Did you get my tuna?” he said before pulling out a box of pocky, “Oh, what's this?”

“They’re pocky, and you’re not allowed to eat them all. I bought plenty of boxes. You can have one, but the rest are mine.” You said, knowing that Grim would certainly steal more than one box. He opened it up and took a bite, humming at the taste before going to scarf the entire box down. You just sighed, shaking your head in disappointment. He went to snag another box, and you didn’t have the heart to stop him.

You felt your phone buzzing and checked it, seeing you got confirmation for snacks and chill. You chuckled, grabbing two boxes and stashing them in your coat pocket as you started to get ready to head out, “Grim, I’m heading out. Please unload the groceries…your tuna is in one of the bags.” You said, gesturing to the small pile. Grim perked up, deciding to just tear through them until he got what he wanted.

“Whatever you say, henchman!” Grim said, not bothering to ask where you’re going.

“Aaaaaaand?” You trailed off, wanting him to give you a proper answer.

“I’ll do the groceries…” Grim said, and you hummed another ‘and?’ at him. “Aaaaaand thank you for the tuna,” he finally said. With that, you grabbed your house keys and began making your way over to Heartslabyul.

Riddle Rosehearts

You knew Riddle would appreciate the sweet treat, so who better to share it with than the dorm leader of Heartslabyul? Riddle was punctual as ever, waiting at the entrance at the dorm in order to escort you to his room. You happily took his arm that he extended to you, making your way to his personal room.

“So what is it, you wanted to show me?” Riddle asked, looking at your pockets. You had just stuffed the boxes in your coat pockets without much thought, and it was pretty obvious with how they bulged out.

“Pocky!” You said with a chuckle, “Or something similar to it. I think it has a different name here, but it’s the same exact thing. It was popular back in my world.” You explained to him. Riddle hummed, seemingly content. You two entered his room as you pulled out the snacks and opened up the mini bag inside the box.

You held out one of the treats to him. Riddle grabbed it then motioned for the box as well. You rolled your eyes, handing it to him. You could practically see him doing the math inside of head to find out how much he could eat while staying within his daily caloric intake.

“I see, so it’s a biscuit dipped in chocolate?” Riddle said, taking one in his mouth and chewing on it. “It’s simple, yet effective. I’ll need to see if Trey can recreate it.” Riddle said, a soft smile on his face.

“You know, back where I came from, there was a game that was often played with them.” you began, peeking Riddle’s interest.

“And what is the game?” He asked and you took in a deep breath and quickly explained the rules to the game. You could see Riddle had a faint blush on his cheeks as he cleared his throat, “I see, so it’s a game played by couples?”

“Couples or friends…” You said before grabbing a stick between your fingers, “Wanna play a round?” You asked and Riddle sighed and shook his head. Still, he got closer to you and watched as you put the stick in your mouth. He placed his lips on the opposite end and you two began nibbling away at the sweet treat.

Once you got closer enough, you took the last bite and grazed your lips against Riddle’s. The man pulled back, placing his hand over his lips as he stared at you. He cleared his throat and looked away, “I think that’s enough of that for the day.” He said, but the blush on his face was making him go scarlet.

You chuckled, placing another stick against your lips, “You sure?” You taunted with a wink. Riddle sighed then took your chin in his gloved hands and placed his lips on the opposite end. Guess the game wasn’t over.

Trey Clover

“What did you want to show me?” Trey asked as he held the door open leading to his room. You happily walked in as you took a box out of your pocket. You waved it near him, showing him the contents. Trey perked up, taking the box and reading over the label.

“I think I’ve used these in the past, for decorations on a cake. They’re pretty good.” Trey said, handing it back over to you. You smiled and opened the box up in order to grab one of the treats.

“These were pretty popular where I came from, even had a game to go alongside it.” You explained, handing him a stick. Trey seemed curious as he sat down at his desk.

“A game?” He asked and you nodded your head before explaining the rules. Trey finished the stick and then looked over at you. He adjusted his glasses while speaking, “Did you perhaps want to play the game with me?” He asked.

“Sure do! Now come over here.” You chuckled, patting the spot next to you on his bed. He chuckled and shook his head.

“How about you come over here instead.” Trey said, motioning you towards the desk. There was nowhere to sit since Trey took the chair, but you walked over anyway. Before you could say anything, you felt him grabbing the back of your thighs and pulling you onto his lap. You let out a small, startled squeak as you looked at him.

“L-like this?” You asked, feeling your face heating up. Trey chuckled as he grabbed a stick from the box that was still in your hands. He grabbed one of the sticks and popped it into his mouth. You took the other end and the game began. In a few seconds you could feel Trey’s lips against your own.

Trey’s hand went to the back of your neck, keeping you in place while he deepened the kiss, his tongue licking at the chocolate on your lips. You shivered under his touch as you felt him let you go. You looked at him with a flustered expression, noticing him smirking.

“Shall we go again?”

Cater Diamond

“What’s the snack you brought in today?” Cater said, hanging off his doorway as he looked at you with his boyish grin. You chuckled as you took out the box and waved it in his face. Cater took it and looked it over before frowning.

“Sweets?” he asked and you shook your head.

“They’re not overly sweet, I promise. Besides, there’s another reason why I brought them to share with you.” You explained as you took the box and ducked under his arm to get into his room. Cater was now intrigued as he closed the door behind him and walked over with his hands tucked in his pockets.

“And what’s the reason? They Magicamable?” Cater asked, taking a seat next to you on his bed. You shrugged, opening the box and grabbing one of the sticks from inside of it.

“Kinda; where I come from there’s actually a game that goes with eating them. Probably a marketing ploy, but it got popular in a lot of shows.” You explained to him before quickly explaining the game. Cater seemed to perk up at the ending where you could kiss someone if you got to the end.

“You know, if you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just said so.” He teased before grabbing a stick from the box and placing it against his lips. He made sure it was the biscuit part so it wouldn’t be too sweet. He’d happily let you nibble on the chocolate end.

“Isn’t this more fun though?” You asked as you placed your lips on the other end. Cater just hummed, already nibbling on his end of the stick. It wasn’t long before your lips were colliding. Cater didn’t hold back, placing a hand on your cheek and dipping you on the bed, deepening the kiss until you were left breathless. Only when your lips were bruised and swollen did he let up, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“You’re right, this is a fun game…but I think we can do without the stick, eh?” He said and you huffed before going back in for another kiss.

Ace Trappola

Right as you were about to leave, you heard your phone buzzing. You picked it up without thinking, seeing it was Ace. His voice filtered through, “Hey, you know what, how about I head over to Ramshackle?” Ace asked and you sighed.

“Got in trouble?” You asked. Ace scoffed, telling you to stop being dumb. He hung up moments later and you shrugged, deciding to take off your shoes and chill on the couch. Ace didn’t bother knocking when he came inside, You watched him kick his shoes off and head over to where you were.

“So what are we eating?” Ace said, his signature smile spread over his face.

“Pocky…or whatever this is called in your world. In my world, it’s pocky.” You said, motioning to the boxes on the table. Ace perked up, going over and opening one of the boxes and grabbing one. He wasted no time trying it and he seemed to be enjoying the flavor.

“These are pretty good…we gonna watch a movie, or play a game while we snack?” Ace asked, plopping onto the couch.

“We’re playing the pocky game, actually.” You said, opening up your own box. You grabbed one of the strawberry pocky out and put it in your mouth. You motioned for Ace to come over. He was confused at first before it clicked in his head. He shot you a smirk before putting his mouth on the other end of it.

It didn’t take long before you could feel Ace’s lips against your own. Still, you managed to get the last piece and quickly parted from him, “I won!” You chuckled, causing Ace to become confused.

“How?” he asked, before realizing it was a game after all.

“Whoever gets the last piece wins. If the stick breaks, whoever has the longer half wins. Since I got the last piece, I win.” You explained.

“Rematch; right here, right now.” Ace said, grabbing a chocolate one now. You chuckled, playing along and wrapping your lips around the other end. You began nibbling it again and managed to steal the win again. Ace groaned as he got another stick.

This time, when your lips collided, he made sure to snag the last piece while also biting your bottom lip. You gasped at the sharp pain. Still, Ace pulled back looking pretty proud of himself.

“Looks like I won.” He chuckled.

“Rematch; right here, right now.” He didn’t need to be told twice.

Deuce Spade

You headed over to Heartslabyul and noticed Deuce waiting out in the gardens. The sky was already dark, but there were some lanterns lit, illuminating the rose maze, “Everyone is in the room right now, so I figured we could eat out in the gardens…if you’re fine with that.” Deuce asked, scratching the back of his neck.

“Sounds good to me.” You hummed, following Deuce as he walked through the maze. As a member of the dorm, he learned his way around and seldom got lost. He soon had you at one of the many tables, scattered about that was used for mini tea sessions.

“So…what did you want to show me?” He asked, noticing you already pulling out a few boxes from your pockets. You laid out three different flavors for him to choose from, “I don’t think I’ve seen these before…” Deuce contemplated before going for the banana ones.

“They’re popular back where I lived, had a game and everything.” You explained, grabbing yourself your favorite flavor and opening the box.

“Really?” he asked, trying one of the pocky. He hummed at the flavor, deciding he liked it and grabbing another one, “What’s the game?”

“Oh, it’s like a kissing game, but friends played it all the time. Normally in groups. Even popped up in anime and manga all the time.” You explained to him, causing Deuce to pause. He looked at you with wide eyes, wondering if you wanted to play the game. You caught wind of the unspoken question and put a stick between your lips and motioned him forward.

Deuce awkwardly came closer and wrapped his lips around the other end. You could see the cute blush coating his cheeks as you slowly began nibbling on the other end. Soon you felt the warmth of his lips against your own and you couldn’t help but lean more into it. He tasted sweet and his lips were softer than you could’ve ever imagined

All too soon, he was pulling back and looking at you. You noticed the smirk now lacing his face and, despite the large blush, he looked confident.

“Did you want to try again…I don’t know who won or lost.” he said and you chuckled.

“Must’ve been a tie…let’s go again.”

Are you a fan of Diasomnia like me? I bet you are if you read my content (we love the boys in this household). Want to support a visual novel that will feature Diasomnia dorm, has multiple routes and endings, as well as some spicy visual scenes? Check out @twstfournights and if you want info, check out their announcement post!

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 year

Text

Spitfire

Jake finds himself enamoured with an enigmatic woman at the bar, wanting to do whatever he can to get to know her. Unfortunately, circumstance seems to stand in the way of fate, leaving him wondering if he’ll ever get the chance to love her, or if she’ll remain solely a memory.

Read part two here

Listen while reading: witchy woman - eagles

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: drinking, swearing, bars, smoking, frat boys, creepy/mean ex-boyfriends, mentions of drugs, mentions of sex, touch of physical violence, sorry if i miss any!!

aha! jake mini-series!! not sure how long this will turn out to be, so stay tuned i guess! also, if you can, i suggest listening to witchy woman by eagles while reading :) as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

Music was pounding through the sound system, bouncing off every body that was present on the dance floor. It wasn’t particularly good, but you were certain that you could get drunk enough to enjoy it. You’d only been inside the bar for a moment, but somehow your friends had already disappeared into the crowd, leaving no indication on where they could’ve went. You paid no mind to it, knowing they would show up sooner rather than later. You pushed your way through the crowd to get to the bar, earning some strange looks. When you landed in front of the wooden countertop, you were a bit out of breath and eager to start drinking. The familiar bartender looked to you, giving you a smile.

“Hey, Mike.” You greeted.

“Was wondering when I’d see your face back here.” He pulled a glass from under the counter.

“Roommates finally let me out of house arrest. Did enough chores to make up for the last time we were here.” You joked. He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at you.

“You’re gonna get yourself hurt fighting like that.” He scolded. The last time you’d been at the bar, you’d gotten in a physical altercation with a frat boy who’d been bothering a girl. You’d never been scared to throw a punch or speak up. Growing up with four brothers really taught you a thing or two about how to fight. Your quick temper seemed to get you into trouble, but thankfully this particular bar staff knew you only got physical if deserved. They didn’t care, because they didn’t want people like that in their bar any more than you did.

“No faith in me, Mikey?” You asked. He slid a drink towards you. You picked it up, taking a sip. “Jack and coke?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Had to go with your second favourite, apparently that fireball gets you feisty.” He grinned.

“I don’t think it was the fireball, baby.” You confided. “I was actually applying for the bouncer position, anyway. You guys don’t seem to want to hire me; figured I just needed to show off my skills.”

“If you were the bouncer, I don’t think anybody would get through the front doors.” He chuckled. “Plus, if we had to pay you to be here, we’d lose out on all our profit.” You laughed as you pulled a twenty out of your purse. As you handed it over to him, he waved you off. “First ones on us, we missed you.” You shoved it back in your purse, pulling out a ten instead.

“Fine, here’s a tip, I missed you too.” You left it on the counter, grabbing your glass. “Oh, and put some better music on. I don’t want my favourite dive bar turning into a club.” He let out another laugh, throwing his head back as he did so.

“Will do, spitfire.” He moved on to the next customer as you turned around, losing yourself in the crowd. The boy on the stool next to you stared at the spot you’d been standing moments before, turning his head to watch you weave into the mess of bodies. He turned back to the bartender, who was making his way over to him. “Refill?” He asked the boy, nodding towards his empty glass.

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat. Mike pulled down a bottle of whiskey from the display, filling a glass with ice and pouring the liquor atop it. “What’s that girls name?” He asked. Mike looked up at him, furrowing his eyebrows slightly.

“The one who was just there?” He nodded his head towards the empty spot beside the boy. He gave a nod. “Y/n,” he answered “but if you think you’re interested, tread carefully, man. She’s something else.” The bartender smirked.

“You seem to know her pretty well. Could you put in a good word for me?”

“What’s your name, kid?” Mike questioned, placing his drink in front of him and taking his used glass away.

“Jake,” he introduced himself, reaching a hand across the bar. “And you’re Mike?”

“Yeah, that’s me. I own the place.” He smiled. “I’ll try my best to send her your way, but no promises. I’ve known her for a long time. She’s a force to be reckoned with. She does whatever she wants, whenever she wants to. I’ve never been able to reason with her.”

“‘Preciate it, man. I think I can handle her.” Jake smiled. Mike let out a laugh, knowing the boy was maybe a bit too confident in himself.

“Whatever you say.”

Back on the dance floor, you’d found yourself surrounded by a group of people you’d never met before, but seemed like they knew how to have fun. You’d finished dancing with one of the girls, blowing her a kiss as you continued on your journey through the sea of drunkards. A familiar head of red hair caught your attention. You pushed past a pair of frat boys, giving a scowl as you did so. They were your least favourite type of people, and the university you’d been attending was full of them. You caught up to your friend, grabbing onto her arm before she could slip away again.

“Hi!” Eve exclaimed, smile lighting up the room. “I didn’t know where you went!”

“Had to go say hello to Mike!” You shouted back. “Where is everyone else?”

“I think Ally’s doing blow in the bathroom.” She giggled. You rolled your eyes.

“Of course she is.” You were a party animal, but even you had to admit that Ally, one of your roommates, definitely had a problem that she wasn’t willing to deal with yet.

“Ben’s probably guarding the bathroom door for her,” you nodded. Ben was Ally’s boyfriend, always making sure she was safe. You liked him; he wasn’t necessarily overbearing with her. He never stopped her from doing what she wanted, but just made sure she was protected while she was doing it. “And I think the rest of them are over playing pool.”

“And you and I are gonna dance.” You smiled, grabbing her hand and twirling her around. She let out a laugh, reciprocating the action. The two of you moved your hips in time with the music, dancing on each other and sipping at your drinks. From behind you, a wolf-whistle sounded. You straightened up, spinning around to see a guy you’d seen around campus a few times. You gave him a glare, flipping him off in the process. He rolled his eyes at you, turning to look the other way. “Asshole.” You muttered, bringing your glass to your lips and finishing the rest of the drink in one gulp. “Come on, let’s go get another.” You ushered her along. The two of you stepped down the stairs leading back to the main floor, catching sight of your third roommate. “Ally!” You shouted, waving her over. Her head whipped around, following the sound of your voice immediately. She gave you a grin as she joined you, hooking her arm through yours. “Hello, sunshine.” You greeted.

“Fancy meeting you here.” She jittered. You had to laugh.

“Let me buy you a drink, sugar.” You gave her a small yank towards the bar. You pooled into some stools, all scooting your chairs closer together. Mike made his way over to you, a towel over his shoulder. He placed his hands on the edge of the counter, leaning forward and giving a disapproving sigh.

“You troublemakers are back again?” You gave him a sweet smile. He was an attractive guy; a bit older, but very good looking for his age. He had his head shaved and tattoos littered his arms. You always played the flirting game with him, knowing you’d let him take you home under the right circumstances. Still, you enjoyed drinking there far too much to ruin it over a quick fuck.

“Couldn’t stay away from you.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. What are you having this time?”

“I’m thinking shots. What about you, ladies?” You asked. They gave a collective nod. “Six jägerbombs.” He obliged, grabbing a can of red bull and the dreaded green bottle. He poured out six, placing two in front of all of you.

“Oh, there’s a guy over there that seems particularly interested in you, too.” Mike said, nodding in the direction of a booth behind you. You raised an eyebrow, giving a smirk.

“Trying to pawn me off on some poor patron?” You asked. He shook his head.

“I’m just relaying the message, sweetheart.” You turned around, seeing a group of boys sitting together. Your eyes scanned them, taking in each one of them individually. One had long curly, dark hair and a sweet smile. He looked different than the other three, who all seemed a bit similar. There was a lankier, taller boy who sat next to the curly haired one. He had a bit of facial hair growing in and long, brown hair that barely had a wave to it. On the other side of the booth, there were two boys who looked quite similar. One had short fluffy hair, shaved down on the sides and a grin that never left his face. The boy beside him had long hair, too, but his aura looked a little darker. His smile wasn’t as wide when it crossed his face, and he looked a little stoned.

They must be twins, you thought.

They were all good looking; you wouldn’t mind taking any one of them home, but that wasn’t your intentions lately. Boys, and girls, for that matter, were not your peak interest. Too much drama, too much effort. You liked drinking and having fun. Freedom was great and you used all of your time not spent with your friends, studying. You didn’t need someone to drag you down. Still, out of curiosity, you had to ask. “Is it sunshine and rainbows, or dark and broody?” You turned around, a laugh on your lips.

“Dark and broody,” Mike chuckled. “How’d you know?”

“Come on, you know me well enough by now. I know everything.” You took the first shot, feeling the warmth flood your chest for a second. It was quickly washed away by the carbonated drink. “He is cute, though. But I’m not interested in wasting my time.” You sighed.

“Y/n, he’s gorgeous. You have to go talk to him, at least.” Ally pleaded.

“Take your shots and maybe I’ll think about it.” You brushed her off.

“He seemed to really like you, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Seemed like a nice guy.” Mike offered, throwing another drink in front of you before he stalked off to serve another group of people. You thought about it for a moment, taking another look over your shoulder at the guy. You found he was already looking at you. He gave a small smile, to which you returned.

“You know, maybe it would be good for you. You haven’t even so much as looked at anyone since the last asshole.” Eve said. You shrugged.

“For good reason.” You kept it short and sweet, not wanting to get into it now.

“Just give him a chance, y/n. You never know.” She took both of her shots back to back without a flinch in sight.

“Oh, I know,” you rolled your eyes. “All guys are the same. They just want to fuck and ruin your life, then act like it never happened.” You stood again, grabbing your drink. The two girls shuffled to their feet, following after you. You made your way to the pool tables, taking a seat on the side of one the rest of your group was playing on. Ally’s boyfriend shooed you off without any hesitation, completely used to your antics. You jumped off, now watching the game they were playing. Ben and his roommate were playing together, and they were down to the 8-ball. The tension seemed a bit high; they always contested each other in pool. It was their version of a pissing contest. You had learned not to comment on it.

The mood shifted in the air suddenly. Mike had adhered to your request, changing up the music. Overhead, the opening notes of Witchy Woman by Eagles sounded, sending a jolt of energy through you. “Thanks, Mike!” You yelled over to the bar. He looked up, giving you a wink.

From the booth the group of boys sat at, Jake looked over at you, pleasantly surprised that you’d requested the music change. You were singing the song to Eve, and she was dancing to your voice. Jake admired the way your hips moved, the life behind your eyes, and the heart you were putting into the performance. “Go talk to her, man.” Josh elbowed his brother in the side. Jake snapped out of his trance, looking over to his twin.

“Oh, no,” he shook his head. “I don’t want to bother her. She looks like she’s having fun.” In reality, he was nervous. He’d never met a girl who affected him quite like you did. Your whole aura drew him in, like you’d casted a spell on him. The way you were so openly you and not afraid to show it was enchanting, and new. Not many people were like that. He thought your song choice had been fantastic, because if he had to pick a song to describe you, it would have been that one.

“Just ask to buy her a drink; she looks friendly enough.” Sam said, now looking back over his shoulder to get a glance at you. Jake took a deep breath, nodding his head once.

“Yeah, okay.” He stood, throwing back the last of his whiskey and advancing towards you. You caught sight of him as he was approaching, finding your breath catch in your throat. He was really good looking, and even better up close. He gave you another smile when you caught his eye. You stopped dancing, trying to channel a bit of your confidence that you’d lost momentarily. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I could almost believe they wrote this song about you.” He spoke once he got close enough to you. You gave him a smirk.

“Flattering,” you looked him up and down. He was wearing dark jeans; you couldn’t tell exactly what colour they were due to the dim light, but they looked black. He had a dark blue button up on, only the bottom few buttons fastened together. The sleeves were cuffed at his elbows. His chest was tan, the skin looked soft and was inviting you in. His neck adorned a few chains, one with a pendant hanging from it. You couldn’t get a good look at it. He had dark features: brown hair, brown eyes and dark eyebrows. He was beautiful, and definitely had a good music taste for knowing the song, but you weren’t willing to fall for it. You were certain there had to be a catch. “What brings you to my side of the bar?”

“You,” he was blunt. You hated to admit it, but you liked it. His eyes scanned your face, taking in your red lipstick in particular. He wasn’t disrespectful with his gaze, though. It never fell below your shoulders. “I couldn’t let you leave without at least introducing myself.” You gave a chuckle.

“Trust me baby, I’m not leaving any time soon. They shut the bar down when I’m ready to go.” His heart sped at the pet name. “Now, tell me what you really wanted.”

“I wanted to buy you a drink.” His confidence was non-existent, but he attempted to sound sure of himself, anyway. “A woman with a music taste like yours is certainly deserving of a beverage of her choice.” You softened your stare, easing up on him a bit.

“I guess that depends on what drink you had in mind.”

“You don’t strike me as a bottom shelf kind of lady.” He let out a small laugh.

“You got me there.” You smiled. “I think-“

“She’d love to have a drink with you!” Ally cut in, earning a glare from you.

“Come on, Ally, you didn’t even let me intimidate him first.” You rolled your eyes, making a quick joke.

“He looked pretty scared to me.” She giggled. You looked back at the boy, shrugging.

“I guess he does.” Jake let out a nervous chuckle. “Come on, pretty boy, let’s go get a drink.” You grabbed his hand, pulling him along behind you. When you reached the counter, he pulled a bar chair out for you, letting you sit down first. He took a seat beside you, turning to look at you.

“So, witchy woman,” he smirked “what’s your name?”

“Hm, I think I like that name better.” You grinned.

“Come on, I’m sure that pretty face has an even prettier name.”

“Y/n,” you said, crossing your legs. “What about you, mystery man?”

“Jake.” He told you. You looked at him for a moment, slowly nodding your head.

“That fits. You look like a Jacob.” He laughed.

“I do?”

“Yeah, I mean, not in a bad way or anything, you just look like a Jake.” You stated, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Noted.” he replied. Mike stopped in front of the two of you. “I’ll get the same as earlier,” he looked to you “and one of whatever this beautiful lady has been getting all night.”

“Lady is a strong word for this one.” Mike chuckled.

“How rude, Mike. I may just have to leave a bad review.” You snipped. He waved you off.

“You love me too much for that.”

“You’re right, I do. I can’t get this cheap of a drunk anywhere else. Glad to see you referred to my Spotify playlist for tonight.” You mentioned, hearing a Cream song begin to play.

“It was too good not to play.” You watched as he poured the drinks. “I should pay you instead of the shitty DJ’s they bring in.”

“Hey, twenty bucks is twenty bucks.” You sent another wink in his direction.

“You think I pay them that much?” The three of you let out a chorus of laughs. He handed you both your respective drinks.

“Add them to my tab, please.” Jake told him. Mike gave a nod. “And all of her drinks for the rest of the night.” He added. You gave him an incredulous look.

“Absolutely not,” you scoffed “that’s very kind of you, but I won’t do that to you.”

“I don’t mind, really.” He assured you. Mike gave him a look of warning.

“She’ll drink you broke, buddy.” He told the boy.

“It’d be worth it, then.” Mike gave a shrug, walking away and doing as he was told without another protest.

“Jake, you really don’t have to-“

“I want to.” He cut you off, a tone of finality in his voice. You closed your mouth, pleasantly surprised at the authority. Usually, it would irk you, but from him, it was more than alright. You sipped your drink before the conversation continued. “So, what do you do for a living?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

“I’m in school right now, actually.” Now that you were looking at him, you were realizing he might have been a bit older than you. You’d never seen him around the town, or the campus. He was a mystery waiting to be discovered.

“What are you taking?” He asked, eyes never leaving you.

“What do you think I’m taking?” You figured it would be fun to play with him a bit. He studied you for a moment, trying to pry into your brain.

“Something science-y.” He deducted. You were impressed.

“Yeah, actually.” You smiled.

“Biology?” You nodded.

“Well, sort of.” You gave a small laugh. “Chemical engineering. Moving on to biomedical engineering for my masters.” His eyes widened at your statement.

“So you’re a genius, too?” He asked.

“If you want to say that, sure.” You played into it. “What about you, Jacob?”

“I’m a musician.” You narrowed your stare at him.

“Any good?”

“I’d like to think so,” he responded, eyes crinkling with the upturn of his lips. “I guess I’ll have to show you sometime so you can judge for yourself.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You trailed off. “So that’s why you have such a good taste in music, then?” He gave a small shrug.

“I grew up on the type of music you like.” Was all he replied.

“So you play rock music?”

“Modern rock, yeah.”

“That’s actually really cool.” You admitted. “You play guitar, don’t you?” He nodded.

“How’d you know?”

“Woman’s intuition, if you may.” You scooted your chair closer to him. He welcomed it, doing the same. “So you’re just passing through town, then?”

“Yeah, we had a show here last night. We’re gonna be here for a couple days, though.” He was much more intriguing than you’d originally pegged him for.

“Where’s home for you, then?” You pried, genuinely wanting to know him now.

“Michigan.” He answered, setting his glass back on the countertop. “You?”

“Washington.” You replied.

“You’re a long way from home, then.” He noted.

“Well, I couldn’t really turn down a scholarship from John Hopkins.” You practically scoffed. “My parents would have killed me if I did.” You laughed.

“Yeah, fair enough.” He conceded. “How far along are you?” He asked.

“I’m in my third year of my undergrad. I’m finishing up my bachelor’s early, then I’m starting my masters in the fall.” Jake was blown away at your words.

“You amaze me.” His expression showed nothing short of admiration.

“I guess I can add ‘impressing celebrities’ to my resume.” You smirked, leaning forward slightly. Perhaps it was the alcohol lowering your common sense, but he looked very good, and you’d likely never see him again. It was a win-win for you. “I think I’d like to make your time in Maryland memorable, Jake the rockstar.”

“You already have, Y/n the engineer.” He was leaning in now, too.

“Oh, so you don’t want to kiss me?” You teased. Your noses were practically touching, the smell of whiskey on his breath was driving you crazy.

“No, I would love to kiss you.” He assured you.

“What are you waiting for, Jacob?” Before you could say anything else, his mouth was on yours, desperate to know what you tasted like. It was heated, both of you tipsy and fuelled by attraction, but it wasn’t sloppy. When you pulled away, you giggled at the lipstick that stained his lips. “Reds your colour, I think.” You wiped away the smudge with your thumb. He couldn’t hold back his smile, placing a kiss to the pad of your finger.

“You think so?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. But, in your true nature, you stood, cutting the moment short. “Come find me before you leave, rockstar.” You placed another kiss on his lips, walking away without another word. He followed you with his eyes, dumbfounded at the sight of you walking away. He watched you until you disappeared back into the sea of people, not sure if he should follow or not.

You ventured back to the pool table, joining your friends once more. They didn’t notice you right away, but when the girls caught sight of you, they had a shock at your smudged lipstick. Instead of explaining, you grabbed a pool cue and started up another game after convincing one of the boys to go buy a round of shots.

Jake joined his brothers in the booth, wordless and still trying to comprehend the interaction you’d shared with him moments before. “How did that go?” Josh snickered.

“I… I don’t know.” He said. “I mean, she kissed me, then she just… left.” His twin reached out and gave him a reassuring pat on the back.

“Maybe you’re a bad kisser,” Sam chirped, earning a pointed look from his eldest brother.

“Did she say anything else?” Josh questioned.

“She told me to find her before I leave.”

“Well that’s not a bad thing, then!” He exclaimed, trying to cheer him up.

“I don’t know, man. I’ve never met anyone like her before. I’m scared I might’ve blown my shot.” He sighed, swirling the ice around in his cup.

“You’ll just have to find her, later.” Sam shrugged. “Then you’ll know for sure.”

Back at the pool table, you were on your last solid ball, eyes already on the 8-ball and planning your victory. You lined up your shot, guiding the cue through your fingers and knocking it into the cue ball. It bounced into the orange one, hitting it against the corner and rolling it back into a corner pocket. You gave a smirk of triumph at Ben’s roommate, who still had three balls left to sink. He said nothing, barely willing to make eye contact with you before you took aim again. You shot at the black ball, eyes following it carefully as it landed in the hole without issue. You placed your cue on the table and gave your opponent a sweet smile.

“I’ll take another Jack and Coke. Make it a double, honey.” You told him. Instead of arguing, he placed his own stick down and nodded, walking to the bar without another word. While waiting for him to return, you checked your makeup in your phone camera. You pulled out a tube of lipstick, reapplying it in the places it had worn off. When your refill was brought back to you, you thanked the boy and turned to your own roommates. “I’m going outside, anyone joining?” You asked. The girls nodded, grabbing their drinks. They scuttled behind you as you made your move toward the door. The bouncer caught sight of the drink in your hand and moved in front of the exit before you could get outside.

“You can’t bring that out there, y/n.” He told you.

“Oh, come on. You know I’m coming right back in.” You bargained with him. He didn’t budge. You put on a little bit of an act, letting an innocent look fall over your features. “You know, a lady is never supposed to leave her drink unattended. You never know what could happen.” He faltered, shaking his head, knowing he wasn’t going to win the argument.

“Fine, but make it quick. Don’t let Mike see you, either.” He warned.

“You know he couldn’t stay mad at me.” You reminded.

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” he chuckled. You blew him a kiss as you passed by, Ally and Eve following close behind.

The night was cool, but it felt nice after being inside the warm bar. The exposed skin on your legs filled with goosebumps at the sudden breeze, but you paid no mind to it. You handed one of the girls your drink, pulling a cigarette pack out of your purse. You took one between your lips, offering it around to the others. They each took one, mimicking your actions. You took your lighter and lit all of them, slipping it back into your bra. You took your drink back, letting out a long exhale of smoke. “You guys having fun?” You asked.

“I’d be having more fun if you could set me up with one of mystery boy’s brothers.” Eve said. You gave a low chuckle.

“You can have mystery boy, too.” You flicked off the ash that was accumulating on the end of your cigarette.

“Why? What’s wrong with him?” Ally asked, eyes wide.

“Nothing,” you shrugged “he was a good kisser, probably a good lay, too. Just not looking for anything like that.” You were lying. You were very into him, even before he’d kissed you. If it were with him, you’d be willing to try another relationship. You barely knew the guy, but he had an effect on you you’d never felt before. You knew if he walked out of the bar and joined you, he’d have you wrapped around his finger, and you didn’t like that feeling.

“Babe, he may be a fantastic guy. He seems really into you. I think you should give him a chance.” Eve pushed.

“I told you, not interested.” You replied, leaving it at that. “He’s a musician, anyway. Best case scenario, I fall for him and I get to see him twice a year. Doesn’t sound fantastic to me.”

“No, y/n, the best case scenario is you get to know each other and he treats you really well. Maybe he’d even take you across the world with him.” Ally interjected. You scoffed.

“As if I have time to travel across the world with a horny rockstar.”

“Don’t let you-know-who ruin this for you.” Eve warned.

“I don’t want to talk about him; how I feel has nothing to do with him.” You snapped. She knew your ex-boyfriend was an off-limit topic. She conceded, still knowing that you weren’t being 100% truthful. He’d really fucked you up, and was still trying his best to make you miserable months after your dramatic end by following you around, blowing up your phone non-stop, and ruining any new, blossoming relationships before they could amount to anything. You wanted nothing more to do with him after your caught him hooking up with a sorority girl at a house party, and that was one of the lesser injustices he’d committed against you in the time of your relationship. You were surprised he hadn’t shown up at the bar, yet, just to disturb your night. The cigarettes were slowly dwindling to an end and the tension had yet to subside. “I’m going to have another one, I’ll meet you guys in there.” They nodded, departing back into the building. They were well aware you just needed a minute alone; you’d be fine by the time you went back inside.

You lit another cigarette, leaning back against the building with no real thoughts. You watched the passerby’s, wondering quietly about what was going on in their heads. People were fascinating. It was always strange to think that every person that passed by had their own stories, thoughts and dreams. At face value, they were just bodies. You couldn’t begin to fathom the amount of memories and tales each person that walked by held in their minds.

“Penny for your thoughts?” A voice broke you out of your own mind. You looked up to see the same blue button-up and black jeans from earlier.

“Following me, rockstar?” You smiled. He shook his head, holding up his own pack of cigarettes.

“Just luck.” He leaned against the wall next to you, not close enough to make you uncomfortable, but enough to make your heart flutter.

“Guess so,” your usually witty comments seemed to be lost. The liquor coursing through your veins seemed to be making the decisions rather than your conscious mind, now. All you knew was that he was gorgeous, and you’d never have to see him again after the night was through. You hated that you were so back-and-fourth with your own mind, but you couldn’t help it. Those were your only justifications for what you said next. “Do you plan on taking me home tonight, Jacob?” You turned your head slightly, peeking at him through the corner of your eye.

“If you’ll let me.” He looked at you, now.

“I think that would be alright.” You said, turning your body towards him. He mimicked you, eyes finally fully landing on your face. He let out a shaky breath, stunned by your beauty. He thought he’d never get to experience it that close to him again. Without another word, you threw your cigarette to the ground and pulled him in by his shirt collar, landing your lips on his for the second time that night.

His hand shot to your hip, pulling you into him. Your tongue darted over his bottom lip, begging him to open his mouth. He did so without hesitation, knowing that he’d take you right there if it meant he got to have you at all. You were lost in the feeling, the taste of him intoxicating you more than any of the liquor you’d drank that night. You felt as though nothing could break your focus from the beautiful boy in front of you. But, all things come to an end, and in this case, it was by your name being called frantically.

“Hey, sorry to break up the moment, but we’ve got a problem.” Both of your roommates were in front of you, wide eyed and anxious. You were still coming back to reality, confusion etched in your features.

“What is it?” You finally mustered, taking a step back from Jake, who also looked very disgruntled.

“He’s here. He saw us, and he’s looking for you.” Your expression turned stone cold. Jake looked between you and the girls he didn’t know the name of, silently begging for someone to tell him what was going on. “We have to go.” They tried to usher you away, but you kept your feet planted to the ground.

“Let him find me.” There was no shakiness in your tone; you were serious, almost eager for him to come outside.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Ally said, shifting on her feet.

“I think it is.” You brought you drink to your lips, draining the last of the liquid into your mouth and swallowing it down. “This is my bar.” You reminded them.

“Okay, hold on,” Jake said, intervening now. “What isn’t a good idea?” With that, the front door to the building opened and a boy stepped outside, eyes immediately settling on you. You took a step forward, a smile twisting on your face.

“Finally found me, then?” You handed your glass off to one of your roommates, not looking to see who grabbed it. His eyes were menacing, but they had never scared you before, and they certainly weren’t, now.

“Didn’t have to look very hard.” He took a step towards you. Jake was watching, still unsure of the situation. He looked to the other two girls for an answer, but they weren’t paying any attention to him. “Just had to find the sluttiest outfit at the shittiest bar.”

“This is getting pretty pathetic, Aaron.” You crossed your arms over your chest, giving him a look of disdain.

“It’s been months. You won’t speak to me, you won’t answer my calls, you won’t even fucking look at me when we pass each other on the street.”

“I wonder why,” you rolled your eyes. “We broke up. You were an asshole, I left. Get over it.” You snapped. “Stop following me around to the bars and waiting for me outside of my apartment complex. It’s creepy; get a fucking life.”

“Maybe I would stop if you would just talk to me! I just want to have a conversation, maybe figure this out.” You scoffed.

“No, I don’t think we’ll be ‘figuring this out’ any time soon. Or ever, really. Take the fucking hint and move on. Or get some help, preferably.” He took a step towards you, a look of warning crossing his features.

“Don’t speak to me like that.” His voice was low.

“Should we stop her?” Jake whispered to your roommates, wondering if they were really going to let you take on a guy two times your size all on your own. They both looked back at him, having to bite back a grin.

“Honey, if you’re really interested in her, you’ve gotta understand: nobody can stop her. Most we can do is cheer her on.” The red-head explained. He was still nervous, looking at you and the unknown guy. He was towering over you, but you had no intent on backing down.

“Should we help her, then?” He asked.

“I promise, she doesn’t need any help.” The blonde one spoke now, a ghost of a laugh lingering in her tone. Jake backed down, deciding it was best to just watch how things played out before getting involved.

“You don’t even have the decency to give me any closure, and I come out here and see you whoring around with,” he looked at Jake for a moment. You could see the gears turning in his head while he searched for a good insult. “Van Halen wannabe?” You almost giggled at his shitty pass at Jake.

“At least the Van Halen wannabe could get me off if he wanted to.” You cackled. Your roommates gave Jake a pat on the back, reassuring him that it was alright. He wasn’t even paying attention to the insult thrown at him, more worried about you. There was quite a crowd forming now, everyone wanting to see what the fuss was about. Although, Jake did happen to notice, everybody was looking at the boy as if they were scared for him.

“Sure, you’re laughing now, but you won’t be when you realize he won’t stick around, either. You’re not worth much more than a quick fuck. He’ll realize that pretty soon, too.” The demeanour shifted quickly. You were no longer in a mood to throw insults back and fourth all night. You were itching for a fight. “You can spit out insults all you want, but it won’t change the fact that you’ll end up alone. Wasn’t hard to find someone better. All I had to do was bring home the first girl I saw at that party.” Your vision turned red, furious at the thought he’d even bring up that night. Your hands were vibrating, fuelled with rage at the sight of him, now.

Before anyone could do anything to stop it, your arm raised, hand balled as tight as you could get it, and you swung at his face. Your fist connected with his nose, knocking him backwards. He stumbled, hand coming up to grab where you’d hit him. “Sure, Aaron.” You shook your hand out, barely paying any mind to the stinging. “If telling yourself that helps you sleep at night, keep it up! But if you’re going to lie about it, you can at least leave me alone. Hard to believe you can find someone better when you’re still chasing after me like a lost puppy.” You gave him a sweet smile. He had straightened up and approached you again, about to open his mouth for another jab. Before he could, you moved swiftly, landing another punch to his face. “Now do me a favour and stay the fuck away from me.” It felt nice. You’d been waiting to do that for a long time, finally happy the perfect moment had presented itself.

By that point, the bouncer had caught on that something was going on outside. He’d pushed through the crowd, catching sight of you. “Y/n! Again?” He snapped, making a move towards you. You let out a laugh, stepping back.

“Sorry, Cody!” You shouted your apology to the bouncer as you turned towards your roommates. “Tell Mike I’ll see him next weekend!” You grabbed the girls hands, staring to make a run for it. Jake watched, still trying to process the entire interaction that had unfolded in front of him, amazed that a single punch from you could have knocked a boy that size, backwards. He only clued in to what was happening when you paused in front of a building a few down from where he was standing. You were pulling your heels off, still trying to walk while you did so.

“Wait, y/n!” He called after you, not willing to let you get away that easily. You turned back to look at him, faltering for a moment.

“Sorry, rockstar!” You yelled back, genuinely feeling your chest ache as you ran away. “Nice meeting you!” Your voice echoed through the street. You thought maybe you should turn around and get his number, but pushed the thought away. He was leaving in a few days and he’d likely never remember you, anyway. You told yourself it was for best.

Jake watched your silhouette disappear into the night, debating running after you. But he stood, frozen, until you were completely out of sight. He was head over heels for you from the minute he saw you, even more so now after seeing you hold your own against a man two feet taller than you and probably a hundred pounds heavier. In the background, he could hear the bouncer scrambling your ex-boyfriend to his feet, eager to get him off the property before he had to call the cops. Jake didn’t care to pay attention to it, though, because he was only caught up in wondering if he’d just let the love of his life run away without even getting your last name.

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only-one-light · 11 days

Text

back by unpopular demand:

the "arthesia loses her shit over gacha mini movie titles" series!!!!!!!!!!!!

now under the cut instead of reblogs! let's go!!!!!! no harassing btw!!!!!! or whatever idk

———

1. "my boyfriend is my brother"

this is the title that prompted me to bring back this series to begin with because what the fuck

2. "m4fi4's bloody past"

ooooooo so so spooky edgy oughhhhhhhhhhh uwagghhhhhhhhhhh

3. "my daughter pregnant with enemy's son"

idk why but i find this title super funny for whatever reason 😭😭😭😭😭😭

4. "pretending to be mute?!"

WHY. would you pretend to be mute.

5. "my step brother got me pregnant"

i'm pointing a gun to my head right now.

6. "only i can bully the softie"

#gatekeeping ‼️

7. "admit it! you're an alpha!"

good god what is up with the gacha community and fucking. omegaverse??????

8. "our maid is my girlfriend"

you said our and then you said my. so is she you and some other guy's girlfriend or jusr yours????? hu?h????

9. "i'm a better boyfriend than him"

Shut The Fuck Up.

10. "you're mine, forever"

god forbid.

11. "my ex is my therapist"

damn. 😔

12. "you are my prey"

????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

13. "papa is obsessed with mama?!"

they're married with kids cut him some slack

14. "the big baby"

the thumbnail scares me...

15. "nerds like you are my type~"

the thumbnail makes it look like the guy is committing sexual harassment on the girl and i don't like that fact

16. "sold to my ex boyfriend"

SOLD????????????????????

17. "mr. popular's little pet"

yo why are you calling him a pet?? 🤨

18. "forbidden love when vampires vs. lucky girl"

What.

19. "to love my school's intruder"

wait what the hell is a school intruder. like is it just some guy who isn't even a student coming into said school and literally nobody decides to give a fuck or something???????

20. "shortie is our maid!"

yeah and what's so special about that

also shortie isn't a word apparently. shorty is a word though. uh.

that's all for this episode. see you all in the next one. (i say as i lazily get off the stage before a loud ear piercing scream comes from backstage)

#arthesia losing it over gmm titles

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sokkastyles · 1 year

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It's me again, back with another fiery hot take for your viewing pleasure. This just in. Aang offering Ozai a chance to end the war peacefully before their fight, and Zuko taunting Azula during it is another parallel between them and really drives home who they are as people. Because Zuko taunted Azula while knowing that she's mentally unstable, and therefore not only is that a wrong thing to do to someone (because it shows that he doesn't care about her and likes fighting her obv, also he's taking advantage of her mental state) but it also makes it his fault that Azula shot lightning at Katara. He got cocky and arrogant, and it cost him, apparently. I would love to know what Azula stans are on so I can get me some of that. Seems like it'd be a wild ride lmao.

Hey, um, did it work when Aang offered Ozai a peaceful chance to end the fight?

Did it?

...

Anyone?

...Yeah, I thought not.

The real parallel is that in both cases, both Zuko and Aang are fighting someone who isn't going to back down. And it is established well in "The Southern Raiders" that Aang's method of unconditional forgiveness does not work against someone who is determined to hurt you and does not ease the pain for the victims, nor should it be the victim's responsibility to offer peace to someone who is entirely unrepentant. Azula also would not have backed down even if the opportunity had been offered, and she is the one who challenges her brother to an agni kai, with glee, saying it was "the showdown that was always meant to be." She has the power to end things any time she wants, she's literally being crowned Fire Lord in that moment. But she chooses violence. She makes that choice. Not Zuko and Katara, who are trying to stop her. Just like Aang tells Ozai that he has the power to end the war and he decides to use that power to keep fighting.

Also, Zuko knows personally that a violent person on a power trip isn't going to stop if you ask them nicely. Many people have talked about the parallels between Aang trying to get Ozai to back down and Zuko, at the same age, refusing to fight his own father.

Oh, and what was Azula, who really, really wants to be mini Ozai, doing while that was happening?

Oh, that's right.

Praising Aang for nearly dying because Ozai didn't want to back down isn't a hot take, it's just using respectability politics to blame the victim.

Also, many people have already pointed this out but I'm going to say it again. Zuko was not being cocky and arrogant when he goaded Azula to shoot lightning at him. His intention the whole time was to end the fight quickly and not involve anyone else. He wanted Azula to shoot lightning at him so he could redirect it. He is not to blame for Azula choosing to shoot Katara, who was not even fighting in the fire duel she challenged her brother to. If Zuko had not acquiesced to those terms, set by Azula, then she would already have had to fight Katara and him. Zuko let her fight only him and then she broke the rule she set by attacking Katara. Zuko ain't the one being cocky here.

And taunting? If Zuko got what he deserved for taunting Azula and being arrogant, Azula should have been struck by lightning a hundred times in the series.

Whatever they're on, I don't want it. It's not even the fun stuff.

#zuko #azula #the discourse

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cbrownjc · 21 days

Note

Absolutely love your speculations and thoughts.

What do you think Raglan James' plans of doing since he made contact with Daniel? He didn't only talk to him in that sushi clip, but apparently he brought him with him somewhere (That clip where Raglan says "The great conversion is real")

I know that there's the whole body thief going around, but wouldn't that have to do with David and Lestat? Do you think they're going to bodyswap Daniel with that young (indian? i don't remember well ahah) boy, taking David's place? Because why else would he be talking to him

Thank you have an amazing day

Hello! Glad to hear you like my thoughts! 😌

So okay, I gave a lot of my thoughts about Raglan James in this post. I don't think David is going to be on the show. I think part of his character has been worked into Daniel's story, and David's character has been cut.

Now, that said, I'm actually not sure if Daniel is going to get the Body Thief plotline . . . or, I guess I should say, I don't think the story from the book is going to happen one-to-one in the show. Because I don't think Raglan James is going to steal a younger body before he makes the offer to Lestat to switch. And that is why the character is being played by Justin Kirk. Because, in some later season, Kirk is going to be playing Lestat.

Because, as I noted in the link above, I do not think this show is going to have a bunch of white men swapping around the body of a young man of color. Plus, Rolin Jones has already talked about how tricky body-switching plots can be. The book version of the story had three people swapping around. Right now, I think they are going to streamline things down to just two people -- James and Lestat.

Okay so, as to the preview for ep 2x03, well. I think what happened with Daniel toward the end of 2x02 is setting the stage for Daniel to contact or make contact with the Talamasca. I don't know if the Talamasca made contact with him before Daniel came to Dubai or will do so while Daniel is there already. But I think Raglan James will make some type of promise or deal with Daniel to make sure he'll leave Dubai unharmed or something if he gets info for them, particularly about the Great Conversion thing.

However -- I also wouldn't be surprised if Raglan James has already been kicked out of the Talamasca at this point, and is just acting on his own.

Anyway, I think the show is about to set up a 3-ep mini-arc in that people will wonder if Daniel is "betraying" Louis and Armand in some way, or if Louis and/or Armand really are going to kill Daniel or something and that the Talamasca really are trying to help Daniel or something.

And then, I think something that is revealed in Episode 2x05 will have Daniel feeling different about things again. And, if he's made some kind of deal with Raglan James, (thinking it was a deal made with the whole Talamasca), Daniel will back out of it either at the end of Episode 2x05 or the opening of Episode 2x06.

So yeah, I think Raglan James is here for a little mini-arc and will try and use Daniel to get info about the "Great Conversion" -- either for the Talamasca or just for himself and whatever plans he might have about it.

Now, as for if I think Daniel will get swapped into another body at all? Yes, I do think he will. But I don't think they'll have a new actor cast in the part of Daniel when they do it because . . . the show already has two actors playing that part. And there are other ways characters in the VC series have obtained a new body beyond just switching with another person.

But I don't think such a plotline is going to happen any time soon. This is something I really don't expect to see until just right before the Great Conversion storyline is about to kick into gear which, IMO, won't really begin until around Season 4 or the beginning of Season 5.

I hope that answers your question and have a pleasant day too!

#tale of the body thief #raglan james #Lestat de Lioncourt #Daniel Molloy #Talamasca #Interview with the Vampire #amc iwtv #iwtv #iwtv spoilers #iwtv season 2 #iwtv Season 2 speculation #iwtv book spoilers #ask #ask and answer

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look-at-the-soul · 1 year

Text

The runway -Part 1

Lenny Miller x reader (Cillian Murphy’s role in movie Anna)

Finally!!!! I’ve had this request for a while in my drafts and it’s turn for some Lenny Miller mini series.

@l1-l4 Andy I’m really sorry it took me so long to post this, but stories have their own time (at least to me), I loved your request since the very beginning so here it is finally, I think it would be perfect for a mini series, as there are several important points to reach, but I hope you like this! 💕

Special thanks @heidimoreton for the gifs help!! 🌷

Lenny poured himself a glass of wine and walked towards his bed. Loosening the knot of his tie, he flicked through the confidential file he got at the end of his day at the office. A new mission, after his last successful one where he rescued a diplomat that was caught in a zone of conflict, now he would have get inside of a world he didn’t know anything about; a model agency.

“Adam, yeah, sorry about calling this late.” He greeted the other man in the line.

Lenny heard him chuckling. “Shit boss, you know you’re not sorry.”

“You’re right, I’m not… I need you to get me all the information you can for a new mission.” Adam was young, but he worked hard at the office. “I’m after Anna and Y/N Y/LN.”

“The Runway sisters? They can be all you want, but they ain’t criminals, Lenny.”

Lenny frowned staring at the photographs they attached to the mission file.

“You know the rule number one right, Adam?”

“Don’t ask questions? Are there more rules?” Lenny could hear him typing fast. “All right, the sisters have a fashion show tomorrow night in NYC at seven, then they are going to have dinner at a new exclusive restaurant. I’m sending you their address, their gym schedule, the number of their dentist, the hair salon stylist, oh! And their assistant’s DNA.” Adam joked.

“Since you’re in such a good mood, get me a ticket to NYC, I’ll also need a seat on the fashion show and a table at that restaurant.”

Adam gasped. “The show is only by invitation by the designer and the restaurant had a one-year reservation RSVP, it’s full.”

“Oh, about the plane ticket? Since we’re hitting an elite world and the CIA’s got budget, make it a first-class seat. Good night Adam.”

Hanging up, he couldn’t take his eyes of Y/N photograph.

——

“Miller.”

“Sir, I’m sorry for calling so early, I’m on my way to NYC. Just wanted to ask for your approval to take active part in the mission.”

“Elaborate.”

“Sir, these models only care for parties, designer bags, being covers for the magazines, they can mess up and ruin our work. We’d lose the invaluable progress we have.” The investigation was almost done, they just needed to take the leader down, they had all the targets drafted.

“What do you suggest?”

“Allow me to be their manager, that way I can guide them through the mission.”

“Do whatever you have to do to bring those bastards down.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

As he boarded on the plane, Lenny took the files from his briefcase, he continued studying the girls background. They were French citizens, but divided their time between London, NYC and Los Angeles.

Anna was the trouble maker, the party girl, drugs, alcohol, rebel without a cause, it was written all over her face as well as in the cover of so many gossip portals, a deep contrast with her sister, Y/N she had a career in business, ran her own shoe brand, was an ONU volunteer, part of a program to feed woman in trouble, they were practically the devil and the angel. But even though apparently, she was the good one, he was afraid she would be the one giving him more trouble.

Sipping on his coffee, he then went on to check Anna’s profile, according to the record, for some reason, she wasn’t taking the runway with her sister like they had done in the past so many times. Apparently nobody knew her location and Y/N had been covering her work recently, doing three runways in one day, press conferences and attending numerous social events.

——

“Mr. Richardson, allow me to introduce myself.” Lenny extended his hand at the man. “I’m the new manager to the Y/LN sisters.”

Richardson looked at Lenny and let out a loud fake laugh. “No fucking way, those girls are pure gold, they’re making me earn a shit loads of money, you can get the girls that appear on the pedicure ads.”

Lenny took a look at his watch. “Perhaps I didn’t explain myself correctly.” When Richardson tried to open his drawer to get his weapon, Lenny smirked. “Don’t even bother, it’s not there anymore.”

And his smile grew as the phone started to ring.

“You can’t do that, I signed those girls.”

Lenny looked at him, he was starting to sweat.

“The VP of the agency gave me this.” Lenny informed Richardson and putting the sheet on his desk, he leaned back. “He mentioned he appreciated all your hard work and he would assign you to some model called Cara?”

“He can’t do that!” Richardson stood up, shouting. “I made this agency win millionaire contracts with those sisters!”

“Oh, he said you would bring that up that’s why I suggested you take the Hadid sisters instead.” Lenny’s eyebrows raised, his voice remained calm.

“In that case…”

A sick smile appeared in Richardson’s face. Lenny wanted to throw up.

Closing the button of his suit, Lenny walked to the door. “Don’t worry you can keep your office, I will choose another one.”

It was easier than he thought, this man was pulling the trigger by himself.

Now he needed to go to a fashion show.

Skipping the red carpet, Lenny walked around the building to get in, cameras flashing everywhere, waiters handling glasses of champagne, the mix of perfumes was making him feel sick. All the people looked the same; like they were starving themselves or they were suffering.

The loud music, people taking photographs, bodyguards whispering in the corner, reporters taking notes about the women taking the runway, he felt so out of place.

But soon, Lenny found his spot, it was at the end of the runway, right in the middle where the models would stop before walking back again.

The next thing he knew is the lights went down and the music changed to a dramatic tune. A silhouette was illuminated at the end of the runway, the curtain fell to the ground and revealed the woman behind it.

“That’s Y/N Y/LN.” Said someone on his right, talking to a camera and recording his message. “And she’s wearing Emilio Pucci’s emerald dream dress, the master piece of this collection, with-”

That was all Lenny heard, as Y/N started taking the runway he was completely mesmerized by her presence. His eyes were fixed on Y/N, her steps hitting the runway, her gaze never leaving a spot in front of her, barely blinking.

She moved with such elegance, not looking down to the floor, a serious expression on her features. The emerald dress hugged her figure beautifully, one of the arms was covered in beads that were shining every time it hit the lights, part of her skin was exposed as the piece was asymmetrical.

Lenny saw Y/N placing her hand on her hip and the way she snapped it to the side, made him lose the tie a little around his neck, then in a slow motion, she gave her back at him and she started to walk back right were she had started. Slowly, he let out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

Seeing all the details of her and the dress so close made him feel like the air had been kicked out from his body. It all happened in the blink of an eye and soon other models were taking the runway.

He lost count of how many they were, all looked the same but didn’t have the same presence Y/N showed off while doing the walk.

As the lights got down, all the models made a human wall at the sides of the platform, the music stopped and silver papers were thrown down from the ceiling as Y/N appeared once more hand linked to a man with white hair and bear dressed in a navy suit.

The pair walked mid runway and Y/N let go of his hand to start clapping as the rest of the people, then they shared two kisses on the cheek and walked back to disappear.

Lenny sighed and decided to take a walk backstage where he was greeted by models half naked, changing clothes, dresses and shoes all over the floor, cameras filming interviews, assistants going mad… it was a totally different thing from what he just saw.

“I’m looking for Y/N Y/LN.” He asked someone who was walking past him.

“Take the corridor, first door of the dressing rooms.”

Following the instructions, Lenny knocked on the door and a soft come in, invited him to open it. He was surprised to find the top model tidying up around, folding her clothes, she was now wearing a short dress in red tone with colorful beads, her hair free.

“Hi, how can I help you?” She asked when Lenny was lost for words, the pictures didn’t really do any justice to her beautiful features, and there was a genuine smile, in deep contrast to the serious poker face she showed while walking.

“I’m Leonard Miller… Lenny, your new manager.” He offered his hand to her, noticing how she was taller than him.

Y/N looked at him surprised accepting his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Lenny. I’m-”

“Y/N, I know… where’s your sister?”

That seemed to make her uncomfortable and she looked away.

“She didn’t feel well.”

“Is this a common thing? Do you take her place in other runways?”

Y/N shuddered. “Sometimes.”

Lenny decided to not make her feel uncomfortable on their first encounter. “You did it amazingly out there.”

His words seemed to get her attention because the smile grew again in her face.

“Thank you… that means a lot.”

Lenny wanted to ask her if she didn’t hear that often, but a woman appeared rushing Y/N out of the dressing room, demanding some time for an interview and other things he didn’t understand.

Giving him one last look, Y/N walked out, but she turned her head around. “I’ve a full day of work tomorrow, would you like to have breakfast?” She proposed. “To discuss the next projects?”

“Sure.” He was about to say that he’d be going to the same restaurant as her, but decided to keep his mouth shut.

The line to enter the restaurant of course was full, paparazzi across the street flashing, fans behind a barrier shouting, a limo stopped right in front of the main entrance, someone reached out to open the door and the crowd went really loud, the paparazzi wild as Y/N raised her hand and waved at them, a huge smile at the sound of her name. A couple greeted her and posed for a photographer, then they cut the ribbon and inaugurated officially the restaurant, as the people started to walk in, Lenny saw Y/N walking in the opposite direction, to the crowd, shaking hands with the people waiting, taking pictures with them, signing things, hugging those crying inconsolably.

Everything seemed pretty normal to Lenny, given her line of work, this was her world.

Until a man pulled her abruptly and Y/N screamed for help. Lenny was on her in mere seconds, helping her out, releasing her from the man, he held him by the collar of his shirt as security from the restaurant rushed to get him, just in time right before Lenny pulled out his gun.

“Are you alright?” He asked looking for any sign of injury. “Let’s get you out of here.”

“No, no… I signed this engagement a long time ago, I need to be there.” Y/N tried to catch her breath, feeling off for having all the eyes on her, the cameras started to flash suddenly in her face.

“Let her pass!” Lenny requested shoving the people around, an arm protectively on her back.

Once inside, Y/N left the scary moment behind, she greeted everyone, posed for endless photos and made Lenny ask himself how she could always keep the smile on her face, she didn’t seem to be tired, never made a face or said no to anyone. And once she finished with her affairs, she walked to the kitchen to thank the chef and staff. It was two hours later that he caught her coming from the ladies room.

“Perhaps it’s time to head home, Y/N.” Lenny stated firmly, hands inside the pockets of his suit.

“But I’ve to work, this isn’t my free time.”

But his hand was placed firmly in the middle of her back as he walked to the back of the restaurant.

“You’re awake since 6 o’clock, did an interview this morning, the runway and this, you need to rest.”

They drove in silence to her apartment, Y/N felt intoxicated by his lotion, it was so masculine. He had such an intriguing personality, totally different to her previous manager. She was so grateful for not having to work with Richardson anymore, she never liked the way he was always around when the girls were changing their clothes for photo shoots.

Y/N looked at him intensely. “How do you know?”

“I’m your manager now, remember? I’m supposed to know your schedule.”

“That’s why you had a gun?” She asked casually stepping inside her apartment. Lenny was taken aback by her question.

Lenny leaned against the door frame. He knew she would be a trouble. “I’ll tell you if you tell me where I can find your sister.”

Y/N looked away from his piercing blue eyes. “Thank you for helping me tonight.”

He offered her his business card, pointing out his personal number in case she needed something. “My pleasure.”

And with that, Lenny walked away, trying to force himself to stop thinking of that pair of kilometric legs.

***

Part 2

Master list

Lenny blurbs

Ok Can we now talk about how gorgeous is that dress?!!? It’s an Emilio Pucci from the 2011 collection and I’ve been in love with it ever since 💚 just a random fact in case anyone is interested 😉

I hope you enjoy this Lenny series, you know it would mean a lot to know your thoughts about it 🥰 if you want to be added/removed from the tag list just let me know xx

Tag list @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @cutecurly-hair @strayrockette @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @moral-terpitude @mrkdvidal1989 @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel @sydneyyyya

And I’m adding you guys because you liked the previous Lenny stories: @camilleholland89 @allie131313 @star017 @babayaga67 @imichelle-l-rigby @windguidesyou @lovemissyhoneybee @jyessaminereads @emmanuelle19

#that’s what Cill said #Lenny Miller #Lenny Miller fanfic #Lenny Miller imagine #Cillian Murphy x Lenny Miller #anna movie imagine #cillian murphy #Lenny Miller x reader #Lenny Miller x you #Lenny Miller x y/n #Cillian Murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you

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tsams-confessions · 1 month

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Disclaimer and TL;DR: No hate please, I had a stupid non-canon crack ship that I got attached to that canon up and ruined. I don't ship incest shit, if I do continue shipping these three it'll be as an AU like people do with SolarMoon, but I haven't decided.

I'm gonna say it - I hate that it's apparently become canon that Jack considers Puppet and Solar as parents. I don't care about Moon he can be Jack's whatever

But literally before all the "Jack is Puppet and Solar's kid" headcanons (And the puppet one was very recent) I thought those three would be cute as a ship.

And now I have been fucked over

Is this how the solarmoon shippers feel? Except instead of a popular ship I had a crack ship (as I tend to do) that grew on me and then for literally no reason got destroyed. What was the point of giving Jack parents, he was so much cooler when he wasn't considering anyone family because that made him different from literally everyone else. He was the only fucking one that didn't go "my creator must be my dad"

And now he's not

THIS IS GENUINELY SO FRUSTRATING I THINK I GET THE FRUSTRATION NOW

At least I still have Solar/Puppet that is still acceptable in public 😔😭

I had a cute little mini-series in the works between these three that I may end up scrapping due to these recent events. I haven't decided. I know that "AUs exist" I preach that all the time, and people are fine with solarmoon when it's an AU but the little crack ships I have are nowhere near as common or loved as solarmoon. I'm gonna think about it because I've spent a long long while being down bad for this stupid thing only for this. My brain just can't see Jack as being related to anyone because he spent so long not being related to anyone. And sure the fandom will do what the fandom wants but this just. It feels so out of the blue with puppet?

Sure, I understand Solar and the fandom. Solar built Jack, of course, people were gonna latch onto the idea that meant that Solar was Jack's mom. But since it wasn't canon at the time I just ignored it and let my brain do its thing because depression hits hard man I need the serotonin.

But Puppet? Sure, as a Solar/Puppet shipper I'm happy. But as a crack shipper, I'm not. I'm conflicted ugh. I don't know.

#sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #tsams #sams #tsams confession #< block this if you dont want to see these #mod 1blood

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whatgaviiformes · 28 days

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Ficlet: (for FishTank Week)

All I've got in my for the moment is mini scenes, so here's a combo of prompts 1 and 2. :D

“Virg-?”

“No.” Virgil didn’t have the bandwidth for Gordon's Gordonness today. Not while the smudge on Thunderbird Two's wing, which he'd been trying to buff out all morning, was entirely Gordon's fault. See if he ever lets him pilot Two ever again.

“Aww come on, bro. I haven't even said anything yet!” Despite the blatant whine, there was a smile in his words. Which he was ignoring; Virgil was intentionally trying to focus on Two’s paint job.

Gordon leaned in to intrude on Virgil's space, and he was forced to look at him. Not a hint of remorse, the little shit.

Heavily, Virgil sighed. “Whatever it is you want, my answer's no.”

“Two looks fine, Virgil, I’m don’t even see -”

“I do!”

“Okay, big guns I guess.” Finally, Gordon’s expression cracked, a little too forced to be real. “Tickets to the Phil! Next time we are in the city,” Gordon bargained. His eyes twitched as he offered, “I'll even go with you.” The smile widened, losing no luster, as he pretended he was happy to provide such an option.

Biting back a grin, Virgil crossed his arms. Considering Gordon couldn't sit still for more than five minutes and would often fall asleep within the first minute of an andante movement, the offer of the symphony was a serious trade indeed. Philharmonic for what, though? “Ok, I'm listening.”

“I need a wingman. Hold on, hear me out before you give me that look. There's this lecture…”

Apparently it was not just one lecture, but a series of them over the upcoming weekend. And for all his elusiveness earlier, Gordon had fully buried the lede, considering Monterey asked him specifically to guest speak. Not as International Rescue or the Olympic medalist, but solely based on an article he’d gotten published about dolphin pods and life cycles.

He knew the one. It was a good article, as researched and thorough as it was approachable. Reading it, he could hear Gordon’s voice throughout, and Virgil knew Gordon thrived in public speaking. A bold thought, but there was a part of him that considered seriously: if Gordon had ever cared enough to try to go after Scott’s job, he probably could’ve done so based on his charisma alone. It was a good thing Gordon valued his own unapologetic authenticity more than the business acumen taught to them by their father.

Gordon’s had been a different journey.

Virgil loved that for him, and loved him for it. Much more than a silly paint smudge.

“Gordon,” Virgil holds up a hand to interrupt him mid-pitch. “You can stop. Of course I’ll go with you to listen to your presentation.” Relief visibly coursed through the aquanaut, and Virgil flicked his microfiber cloth against his chest. “I’m still cashing in on the symphony, though.”

“That’s fair.”

“You could’ve just said you wanted company, you know. I would’nt’ve said no.”

Gordon clapped him on the back, beaming. “Nah, what’s the fun in that? Besides, this is what we do. And I’m getting the better end of the deal, anyway. The show’ll be - what? - three hours at the most. You’re the one that has to deal with three days of fish,” he squeezed his shoulders, laughing, “and three hours of me fidgeting.”

Virgil groaned. And it wasn’t because of Gordon’s strong grip on his shoulders.

And just like that, Gordon released his hold and pranced off as quickly as he’d arrived.

“You’re the worst,” Virgil shouted after him.

Gordon just shimmied away in response.

#fishtankweek2024 #fishtankweek #gavii scribit #ficlets and bits

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around1302 · 1 year

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XVII. YOU HAVE ME

SPARE PARTS: a series (17/20)

BOLOGNE, ITALY

(W) strong language, family restraints, alcohol use, fingering

good lord this has taken me some time to finish. i’m so sorry, life just got in the way. hopefully 4.3k of a smidge of angst and a fuck-ton of fluff makes up for it!

HARRY’S POV

“What’s the move for tonight?”

“You can do what you want, I’m taking Charlie out.”

Niall’s usual grin twists into a smirk, his eyes glinting. I resist the urge to roll my own.

I am taking Charlie out. Not that she necessarily knows that yet.

I don’t mean to sound like a desperate man, but I need Charlie and I to move on like I need air. I can feel her warming to the idea of me, but at the end of the day she still just sees me as her annoying bandmate who’s up to giving her an orgasm or two.

I need to be more than that to her. I can’t be either nothing or just her temporary fix.

And if there’s one thing that’s apparent about Charlie, it’s that she’s a hopeless romantic. She doesn’t crave sneaking around and fleeting glances and meaningless moments. I’ve seen her face light up more from seeing a couple holding hands in public than when I’ve been literally going down on the girl.

In fact, in the time I’ve known her, she’s only ever dated one person – Zayn, which is also why this could get messy.

(But fuck him. I was there first).

“I’d love to say I’m surprised about this whole thing, but I’m really not.” Niall snorts.

I narrow my eyes, but before I can ask anymore questions, the guys barge into Niall’s suite.

“Fuckin’ Hell, Horan. You have it fancy in here.” Louis gawks far too loudly for the fancy establishment we’re in, but I have to say, I share the sentiment. We all have nice rooms (it’s the most expensive hotel in Bologne, for God’s sake) but Niall managed to bag da Vinci’s fucking shrine.

Niall shrugs, sitting up with that mischievous flicker in his eyes.

“Lia still out?”

“Yeah,” Liam explains, “she’s dragging Charlie and Zayn round the shops. Tried to rope us in but we managed to escape.”

My chest tightens. I force it to relax.

Liam throws his legs up on the Ottoman, stretching out. After the show last night, we’re all exhausted. After nearly four months of touring, non stop performing and the consequential non stop partying, we’re all wiped the fuck out. It’s why Niall and I said no to their little day trip around Italy. To put it frankly: I can’t be arsed with the tourism shit when there’s a mini bar five feet away from me up here.

“Good,” Niall reaches behind him, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket.

“What the fuck is that?” I spit.

“This, my friend,” Niall flicks the box open. My suspicions are confirmed, “is about to get me the best head I’ve ever had.”

“Holy shit.” Louis grabs the diamond, making Niall fly up and snatch it back.

“For real?” Liam stands too, while I’m still sat in shock.

“Why I got this fancy suite,” Niall’s as giddy as a kid on Christmas, “want to do it tonight. Italy’s always been her favourite place and I figure–”

“You’re twenty-one.” “Twenty-two this year.”

I scowl. Niall’s cheeky grin droops.

“Oh come on, man. Who cares how old we are? I know I’m gonna be with this girl till I’m all old and gross and grey, why not seal the deal now?”

“Because it’s insane!” I splutter. I’m not angry. Am I? Why am I angry?

“Hardly,” Louis sharply laughs, “they’ve been basically married since they met.”

“Okay, but being basically married and being actually married are two very different things.”

“Dude, don’t you think I know that? I have thought about this, you know.”

My jaw tightens.

My best friend is about to propose to his girlfriend, and I can’t say I’ve ever even had one. The girl I’ve been in lo– whatever. It doesn’t matter. The point is, I can narrow my anger down to one, ugly thing: bitter fucking jealousy.

So, I do the mature thing; I storm out.

Luckily for me, the second I step out into the hallway – all heaving chest and unnecessary frustration – Charlie, Amelia and Zayn bump into me. They’re all laughing about something, a million shopping bags between them.

“Oh, hey man–” Zayn starts, but I cut him off by grabbing Charlie’s waist and pushing her in the direction of my room. The sliver of skin given to me below her crop top sends a spike through my spine.

I don’t care that Zayn is probably about to start quizzing Amelia to no end, all I care about is the universe quite literally handing me the only person I want to talk to right now.

“Yo, what the fuck?” She twists, staring at me with what I assume is a mixture of vexation and confusion, but I’m too busy staring ahead to notice. Charlie doesn’t make a move to escape my grip (something I know she’s more than capable of doing), so I keep walking us to my room.

I messily scan my keycard and grab her shopping, setting it down as carefully as I can in my haste before closing the door with her body.

There’s something else I want to do before talk.

But, I hesitate for a moment, brushing my lips against hers. I silently ask for permission, pulling her toward me so her lower back lifts from the door and our torsos press together. She hesitates, too. Brushing her nose against mine before kissing me with as much urgency as I got her into the room with.

I sigh into her mouth, completely wrapping my arms around her back to hold her flush against me. “Missed you,” I mumble against her lips, trailing my hand up to hold the back of her head. I rake my fingers through her hair, loosening her ponytail.

“Missed you too.” She gasps, looping her fingers through my belt hooks.

I nearly let myself smile, but then she palms me over my jeans.

Quickly, I hold her wrist, preventing me from dragging her to bed and insisting we don’t leave my hotel room all night. “Go out with me.” I let the words tumble like a subconscious spill, letting my chest do all the work so my brain doesn’t have to.

Frowning, she pulls back. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I want to rewind and let her do whatever she wants with me. Why the Hell did I–

“Go out with you?” She’s smiling. She’s smiling.

“Yeah,” I feel my cheeks heating. I’m getting shy, for fuck’s sake. I don’t do shy. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve said those four words over the years, and I’ve lost count of how many people I’ve said it to. I don’t recall nerves ever being a factor in that habit.

“You realise I’m a sure thing, right?” She cocks her head, and I want to kiss the faint dimple that pops beside her lips. I settle for her bottom lip.

“I want to take you out.” I pull her lip between my teeth, bathing in the way she sighs. “Properly.”

“You’re having me on.”

“Nope,” I pop. I need to banish this shy thing. Fuck the shy thing. I realise our proximity might have something to do with that, so I step away, flicking the light on so I can see her properly.

Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes are dark and her hair is mussed and– and shit. I’m so gone on this girl. She folds her arms across her shirt, and that’s when I notice the shirt. It’s my shirt – the one I gave her weeks ago, the band she claims to hate, the shirt I’ve dreamt about fucking her in ever since.

The shirt which now rests just below her bra.

“Oh,” she clocks my thought process – probably because I’m staring at her chest – and fumbles with the messy hem. “Shit, sorry. I never even asked if you wanted it back–”

“Never.” I murmur.

A pause. “What?”

I blink back to reality, back to her eyes. “I never wanted it back,” I clear my throat, try and regain some conviction, “the band sucks anyway.” I wink, she chuckles.

God, maybe we should just stay here. We could order room service and continue our theme of fucking in hotel showers and spend all night getting sweatier and sweatier in between the sheets and–

No! No. I need to take her out.

“Be ready by seven.”

I bend to pick up her shopping, handing it back. Charlie takes the bags slowly, looking at me like I just told her my name’s actually Bill.

Then, softly, nearly meekly, she whispers, “I thought we had rules?”

My lungs stop working. “We did. We do.”

Right – I’m not even considering her right now. I know what I want, and I know I want it badly. I need to learn I can’t just demand this. Sure, I’ve waited six years, but she sure as shit doesn’t know that.

Patience is a bitch.

She looks at me, scrutinising, studying. I want to read her mind, it seems to all work so complicated up there. A million bolts and cogs working tirelessly; I’d give it all up for just a peek.

“I suppose I’d be pretty stupid to deny we’re at least friends at this point, right?”

I can breathe again. “Right.” I rush to say.

“So… dinner as friends. Yeah?”

“Absolutely.” No, fuck no. “Bonding time.”

She purses her lips, seemingly amused. Nodding, she swivels from the door, palm wrapped around the handle and about to let me stand in my room and punch the air but…

“You sure you don’t want me to help you out first?”

Her eyes flicker accusingly at my crotch. Specifcally, my hard on, from just kissing the girl.

It’s like I’m fucking fifteen again.

I snort, pushing my tongue against my cheek to stop the habitual impulse to say something inappropriate. I want to scream yes, God, yes but I can’t. Charlie’s like some kind of kryptonite – one handjob will turn into one blowjob will turn into round after round after round.

“I’m good, love.”

Charlie scowls. “You’re really just going to try every nickname in the book, aren’t you?”

“That’s the plan, sweet pea.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she swings the door open, so before it slams behind her I shout a reminding,

“Seven!”

And then I stand in my room, and punch the air.

“Jesus, Styles, this place is fancy.”

I smirk. “Only the best for a princess.”

“Hey–”

“I’m kidding! Here,” I let go of the small of Charlie’s back to pull her chair out for her, “sit, before you hit me.”

“I can still reach you from over here.”

I playfully roll my eyes as I take my seat. She definitely can. I made sure to get us a table hidden away, close enough for our legs to accidentally tangle and far enough away from anyone else Charlie doesn’t need to worry about people.

She’s always panicked about mobs. The first one was pretty traumatic I guess, and ever since she’s been the overly cautious one in public. Never seen without heavy glasses and an even heavier hoodie, so I made sure she wouldn’t be spending our first date (that is what I’m declaring that is, friends or not) in fear.

It’s not conceited if saying your name for a last minute res at one of the most established restaurants in Bolonge works. Fame has it’s perks, I’m allowed to admit that.

… I think.

Within a few seconds, a waiter comes over with a bottle of red I preorded on the phone. Charlie leans back, looking at me quizzitivley as he pours us both a glass and leaves the rest between us. We thank the waiter, and I gauge her reaction.

A pause. My heart awaiting a beat.

“I’m impressed.” She raises her brows, a glimmer of a smile on her rouge lips.

“Good,” I lift my glass, clinking it against hers before we both take a sip.

I let my eyes properly roll over her for the first time since I met her outside the hotel. It was too dark and too much of a rush to the car for me to drink her in, and God. She looks fucking edible. She’s wearing a strapless dress that lets my wind wander to every inch of skin I can kiss with her still in the thing – but, Jesus, stop.

Tonight isn’t about that.

Quiet falls on us, because, well. What do we talk about if not for the security of sex or argument, if not for the safety net of anyone else around us? Here, we’re uninterrupted. In fact, no. We’re not anything.

We’re two people on a first date. We’re fresh.

“You know,” Charlie chuckles to herself, setting her glass down and leaning on her palms, “I love trying to figure out the other people at restaurants like this. Like, okay, that couple,” she nods behind me, so I try and turn as discreetly as I can. She hits my leg. “Don’t be so obvious!” She hisses behind a smile.

I’ve just gone and made things worst myself by taking Charlie out, haven't I?

“That couple is on their first date, and he’s trying to figure out how to leave.”

“And how do you know that, Sherlock?”

Charlie shrugs and leans back to take another sip.

“I know people. He’s fidgeting like crazy, looked at the bathroom like five times in the past thirty seconds. For sure planning his escape.”

“Or he just really needs a shit.”

Charlie snorts into her glass, spraying wine onto her cheeks. I guffaw, and both of us fall into laughter too loud for an establishment like this. “Fuck, my makeup.” Charlie taps at her cherry stains aimlessly, so I lean across with my napkin.

“Here, hold still,” I chuckle, pinching her chin between my fingers and trying to get as much grapejuice from her face. In the midst of the scene, our waiter returns.

“Are you… oh.” He clears his throat, and we pause to look up.

“We might need a few more minutes.” I mumble. Charlie grins sheepishly.

Yeah, okay, maybe it is conceited – but thank God we do what we do, because judging by the compressed scowl on the guy’s face as he leaves us, we were one 0 in our bank accounts away from being kicked out.

As I’m wiping at her face, our eyes lock, and the words tumble out before I can think about what I’m saying.

“Niall’s proposing to Amelia.”

She gasps. I sit back.

Silence holds us, until a slowly whispered, “shit,” punctures it.

“Yeah.”

I see her reach for her wine. Then she downs it.

“So I told my mum Gemma was a drug dealer. Of course my mum was like, Harry, she’s nine. But it was the worst thing I could come up with at six years old.”

Charlie throws her head back at the story of myself and my sister, one of my favourite memories to relay. I stab my fork in my pasta and try and muffle my grin as Charlie giggles away.

“I never thought you’d be the type to take WWF wrestling so personally.”

I shrug. “I was a dedicated fan. I still refuse to believe it’s staged.”

Her laughter dies, and she gets this sort of gone off look in her eyes. Like she’s thinking about something, someone, and then it hits me – I’ve been sat here reeling off stories about my sister without any regard for the fact she no longer has hers.

“You know,” she shifts, eyes dropped to her plate. She pushes a piece of broccoli around with her silverware, chewing on her lip. Then, her voice gets quiet, small, when she admits, “I don’t think my parents have called me one time this whole tour.”

She chuckles to herself, but it’s void of any humour.

“They did their usual prayer for my safety before I left, and rang to see if I had changed my mind, but…”

I dip my head to meet her eye. She looks up at me, meekly. Like tears are threatening to spill but she’s using every muscle to hold them back. I’m so terrible in situations like this, I never say the right thing because, truthfully, people don’t often open up to me.

(Not like this, at least.)

So, I go with my gut, and pray it doesn’t betray me.

“Pretend I’m your parents.”

Charlie piques. “What?”

Confidence begins to slip from me, evident in the way I mess with my hair and twist my rings beneath the table. “Pretend I’m your parents,” I repeat – despite the out she just gave me.

“This apart of that daddy kink you were talking about?” She smiles smally.

“No,” I lilt. “Tell me about tour. Look,” I sit up straight, bringing my hair forward and cracking my neck. Getting into character. I lift my hand to my ear, pretending to be on the phone. “Hi sweetie, how’s tour going?”

Charlie snorts. “That supposed to be my mum?”

“I’ve never met the woman, go with it.”

She rolls her eyes, but she sits up and lifts her hand, too.

“Hi mum. It’s fine.”

“Fine? Come on, you’ve been away for months.”

She sighs, giving me that look through those lashes. I lift my brows.

“It’s been amazing, actually.”

I smile. We’re getting somewhere.

“Everyone really likes our album,” she continues, “and I started banging the one with long hair you always tell me I need to stay away from.”

“Heey,” I drop the ‘phone’. She looks pointedly at my hand. I raise it again.

She heaves a breath, her expression stone again.

“I wish you’d try and understand my job a little more. I think you’d see what I’m doing is actually really cool if you took the time.”

My chest aches. I knew Charlie had a strained relationship with her parents, I just never knew why. They’d never come to shows, she would never mention them. I don’t even remember them sitting with her at Poppy’s funeral.

Maybe when Charlie blamed herself for her sister’s death, her parents did too.

“You were wrong, by the way.”

I got so lost in my own anger I forgot we were doing this.

“Wrong?” I ask.

“About the dude with long hair. He’s actually alright.”

I couldn’t let this night end.

We practically got kicked out of the restaurant when we wound up being the last two in there, and then we stumbled our way to my hotel room and have been laid on the bed giggling over nothing for the last hour.

Red wine is strong shit.

So far, I’ve learnt Charlie hates the colour purple, secretly loves 90s horror and sometimes worries she made a mistake by going to that audition six years ago.

“I just want a dog, y’know?”

“You can have a dog.” I laugh.

“No, no,” she flips, her hair messily cascading her shoulders as she hovers above me. I let the wine guide my hand, tucking a strand or two behind her ear. She leans into my palm. “I want a dog, and a spouse, and a kid.”

I caress her cheek, and then she lays her face completely on my chest. I freeze, watching in awe as she shifts so her legs hang off the bed and her head is on the spaces were my shirt gives way to my skin. Charlie tilts her head, closing her eyes when my fingers find home on her scalp.

I just want this, I want to scream.

“What?”

Fuck. Wait. Did I not think that?

The domestic bliss lasts all of ten seconds before she’s sitting up again.

I’m at a loss for words. I’m sure she’s going to leave, that I just fucked up this whole night, but then she’s climbing a top of me. My hands instinctively fly to her thighs, holding her close through the silk while she assesses me from above, her hair a curtain.

“You want friends with benefits forever? That’s your end goal?” She sounds amused, so I can’t tell if she’s being serious or not. I want to shout, is that all I am? Even after today, after everything?

I’m better at holding in my thoughts this time, though.

“You really think we can ever be friends?”

Then, she sighs and straightens. Her hair no longer tickling my neck.

“Jesus, you’re confusing. I thought that was why you took me out in the first place!”

This girl will be the death of me.

“Okay, Charlie,” I sit up, gripping her waist to pull her against me. I feel her chest huff out against mine in three quick, fluttering motions. “Let me be crystal clear,” I cradle her face, now, just brushing her bottom lip. She leans into my touch again, and I feel every ounce of self-doubt fade away with the sigh she lets out. I knock my nose against hers.

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

Charlie rushes to say, “You have me,” whilst fisting at my shirt.

As much as I want that to be true, I know she doesn’t believe those words in the same way I want to believe them. So, I stifle a breathy chuckle, shaking my head.

“I don’t think I do.” My throat stutters at the word baby. I haven’t tried that one out yet.

“What do you mean? I’m right here.”

Charlie looks genuinely confused, which I suppose is the problem. The problem I created. I pull back, sinking into her brown eyes till I’m sure I’ve turned to stone. All I’ve wanted for the last six years is to hear Charlie say those words: you have me. Yet, in this moment, I realise I’ve gone about all of this completely wrong.

“I want a redo.” I barely whisper, insecure in my words.

“A redo?”

I quickly lick my lips. “Of everything.” I thumb at her jaw. “I fucked it all up, Charlie.”

“Fucked what up?” She deadpans, clearly tired of my inexplicability.

“You. Me. Us. This.”

Charlie shorts out a huff, as if she’s finally got it.

“We didn’t know this would end up happening–”

“I knew.”

I let my confession barrel before me. If I scare her off, then fuck it. I scare her off. But she needs to know. She needs to know that,

“I’ve wanted you since we were sixteen and you shouted at me for being late to our first recording. I knew the minute you stood there in your stupid scarf and your even stupider boots that I was going to have it bad for you and I’ve not known what to do with it since.”

Charlie looks startled, but she’s unmoving from my lap, so I take it as a sign to keep going.

“I thought that you’d always hate me,” my throat swells, “so I’ve been a prick to you and I… especially after Zayn, I just didn’t…” I shake my head, looking down, losing myself.

It’s the wine, that’s all that’s fuelling this sudden, dumb confession. The wine and the fact that right now my best friend is probably engaged. But, then...

Charlie lifts my chin.

Charlie hesitates.

Charlie’s eyes flick back and forth between mine.

Charlie kisses me.

I kiss back with force, pouring everything I couldn’t say into her lips. I hold the back of her head, moaning against her tongue as she pushes me back to the pillow and grips my shirt so hard it pulls nearly painfully against my back.

And then she stops.

“Zayn told me after Amsterdam he loves me.”

Just found the quickest way to kill a boner.

“Oh.” Is all I can say, apparently.

“But I don’t…” she trails off, her eyes dropping to my lips. “I don’t love him.”

“Okay.” I whisper.

My insides are having a fucking party, right now.

“That doesn’t mean I love you.” She rushes to clarify. I smile.

“I know.”

“But you are the first person I think about when I wake up. And when I go to sleep. And while that’s confusing because most of the time you piss me off, you don’t seem to do that anymore.”

I try not to sound so excited as I respond. “At all?”

“I mean, don’t push it.”

I chuckle, brushing her hair from her face. But then a dreadful pit starts to hole its way through my stomach, and I have to ask,

“You’re not just saying this because you want a dog?”

Charlie smiles against my lips. “I want you, Harry.” One sweet, chaste kiss. “I’m not thinking about the dog right now.”

I lean up to kiss her, flipping her onto her back. My hand slips under her dress, and her breath hitches. “Good,” I breathe against her mouth, rubbing her over her knickers. Her gasp travels to the back of my throat, and I swallow it, keep it, store it, run it over and over in my mind as I push her pants to the side and curl my middle finger in her.

“Stay the night?” I ask, adding my index finger.

“Oh,” Charlie moans, her head tipping back. I kiss her throat, “yes.”

“Yes, you’ll stay the night?” I nip at her neck, losing myself in vanilla and Merlot.

“Yes, Harry,” she pulls my face up, “just assume from now on I will always– fuck, stay the night.”

I grin. Her nails dig into my nape as I pull my fingers out and rub her clit.

“God, like that,” she breathes as I push my finger down harder, tuning myself to every gasp and moan she gives me. I kiss her through her orgasm, muffling her cries with my mouth despite wanting the entirety of Italy to hear how pretty she sounds when she comes.

“Always so good for me, baby.” I murmur, gripping her thigh as I shift my weight and move her core to my own thigh, still covered by the overpriced trousers I asked Amelia to find for me. She bucks her hips, capturing my bottom lip between her teeth. I whimper.

“Baby,” she breathes questioningly. “I like that one.”

taglist: @lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily @sirtommyholland @tpwksm @b-reads-things @tiaamberxx @daphnesutton @mleestiles

#spare parts series #harry styles series #one direction series #harry styles x oc #harry styles enemies to lovers #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #1d series #1d ot5 #1d smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles friends with benefits #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic rec #one direction smut #one direction #one direction ot5 #ot5

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lovesickonmybed · 7 months

Text

bad idea right? | (2/?)

chapter one | chapter three | series masterlist

eddie munson x OC | word count - 3831

summary | a game of truth or dare has consequences.

warnings | swearing, underage drinking, smoking, mentions of drug use, mentions of sex, sexual harassment, a bit of bullying, and depression.

a/n | i fucked with the timeline a little so billy and max had moved to hawkins a few months earlier because I need him for the story. listen to bad idea right? by olivia rodrigo and g.i.n.a.s.f.s. by fall out boy while you read this btw.

God fucking dammit. My night was awful to begin with, hell I didn’t even want to be here in the first place, but now it’s even worse. Eddie fucking Munson is here, and he looks hot, like really hot. I swear to god if I was more drunk I would probably already be on him. Sure he hates me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still think he’s hot. After our falling out I was hoping I’d hate him, that he’d suddenly turn ugly in my mind, but nope, he just gets hotter and hotter. And tonight it’s like he’s the only guy I’ve ever seen. Every guy I’ve ever hooked up with or ever even found attractive all exit my brain as soon as my eyes land on him. He’s sitting on a boulder with his long curly hair tied back into a bun, he’s attempting to light his cigarette. What strikes me as odd is that he’s completely alone, usually Ronnie or Dougie is with him but they’re nowhere to be seen. I down my drink and look away from him, if I keep looking at him I’m going to go over there and it will not end well.

To distract myself I go over to one of the coolers and try to find something that won’t taste awful, I take a while to find anything. I smile to myself when I find a mini bottle of Malibu and a coke. I grab them and stand up and turn around, immediately running into somebody. They grab me by my shoulders to steady me. We meet each other's eyes and my face goes red and my mouth goes dry. Of course the person I’ve just run into is Eddie. He removes his hands from me with a disgusted look. “I-I-I’m…s-sorry…” I mumble before running off to go find somewhere to hide from him.

I duck behind a rock and open the tiny bottle of Malibu, I chug the entire thing and then chase it down my coke. “Goddammit!” I whisper/yell to myself. I know I look insane as I claw at my skin, breathing heavily, trying to self soothe and calm down. When I’m finally calm I’m left with crescent-shaped indents on my legs from my nails. I wonder what Eddie thought when he came face to face with me like that. I mean I can probably guess from the look on his face that he was annoyed and disgusted. I get lost in my own thoughts, panicking and overthinking the interaction when Carol plops herself down next to me.

“Are you alright? You look like you’re gonna throw up.” Carol isn’t really concerned about if I’m okay, she’s more concerned with how it would look if somebody in her friend group puked at a party from drinking too much, I’m already on thin ice for the amount of ass I’m showing tonight.

“I’m fine. Fuck. I just-” I don’t sound fine, I don’t sound calm. She can tell I’m upset.

“You just what?” She asks in an annoyed tone.

“I just ran into Eddie…like literally, physically ran into him…w-who invited him?” I ask.

“Oh, Tommy did. Apparently Eddie is like dealing now or whatever and we needed a weed hook-up for tonight. We didn’t think you’d care. It’s not like you and that freak are friends anymore anyway,” She explains. Right now I’d love nothing more than to punch her in the face.

My friends are assholes, I’m aware of that. But that doesn’t mean I’ve succumbed to it too, she knows I hate when any of them call him a freak or insult him. I hate when they do it to any of the Hellfire kids, I always try to get them to back down and it always ends with her berating me the entire time she drives me home about how if I don’t shut my mouth then I’ll end up back with them. Then she so graciously reminds me I won’t just be back with them, I’ll be lower than them, because if she drops me then not even Hellfire will want anything to do with me thanks to my betrayal. She wasn’t always such a bitch to me. When this all started her and Tina actually enjoyed having me around. They were kind to me; they took me shopping, and we’d have movie nights, now something has shifted. It’s like they’re aware of who I used to be, it’s like it matters to them now that they used to dump trash on me or make fun of me for my appearance. They heavily monitor every move I make, if I step out of line even the slightest then they remind me of where I could be. Eddie was right about them.

“When did he start dealing? I never thought he’d end up like that…” The Eddie Munson I knew was terrified to turn out like his father. His dad was pretty much never home, Eddie would always be at Wayne’s because his dad was out somewhere in another state usually in lockup or getting into some kind of trouble. He’d always come back with a story and a kind smile that charmed everyone into forgiving him for being the worst dad of the year.

“Are you kidding? We all knew he’d end up like that, Viv. He’s a Munson, they’re all worthless low-lives!” Carol says.

My hand curls into a fist and I squeeze my eyes shut tightly. I’m one drink away from beating her ass, “Watch your mouth, Carol.”

She looks at me bewildered, “Why don’t you watch your mouth, Vivian? Defending a loser like that won’t get you far. I’m sure you like fucked him or whatever before you left his loser ass but that doesn’t mean you need to defend him anymore. Spending your time defending a reject like him won’t get you anything good, especially not from him. Just in case you forgot, he hates your guts. If you don’t want to spend the rest of your senior year as a loner then you’ll let me say whatever the fuck I want about him.”

I go quiet. I hate that I go quiet but her threats are real and I’d rather be with people I hate than be alone. Carol smiles at my silence, “I’m glad we had this talk. Why don’t you go buy something off him to calm down?” She chuckles to herself and walks off to go find Tommy.

I fish my carton of cigarettes out of my pocket and light one up. My hands are shaking with anxiety and anger as I bring it up to my lips. I look around at everyone else who’s here, I’m jealous of them all as they talk with friends, flirt with crushes, and just enjoy their time here. I haven’t had a close friend or anyone to confide in for a long time, even at these parties my friends won’t hang out with me anymore. I honestly don’t know why I show up, I go to parties to be ignored and drink in a corner until I’m stumbling home and trying not to cry. That’s how tonight will go as well. I’ll get into the car of whatever sober girl I can find, because I’m not making the mistake of getting into a car with a guy again, and make small talk as she drives me home. I’ll stumble into my bedroom, cry when I take off my makeup, end up in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts and crawl into bed to cry some more until I can finally fall asleep. It’s not ideal but I guess it could be worse.

I see Tina flirting with Billy and I shake my head in disgust. He’s the worst thing to roll into Hawkins. Every time I see any of my friends with him I just start distancing myself more and more, I can’t take it. He’s an asshole, a creep, a goddamned racist sack of shit and I want nothing to do with him. I don’t get what any of these girls see in him. Why do they throw themselves at that asshole when there’s so many better options?

I get up to find another drink so I have something to occupy myself, this time I make sure Eddie is nowhere in the area when I do so. I see there’s only shitty beers left but at this point I’ll take whatever. When I’m going back to my hiding area I’m grabbed by Vicki Carmicheal, she’s one of Billy's groupies. “Vivi! You look bored, come play truth or dare with us!” She drags me off to a group of about 15 people and I let her. What more do I have to lose tonight? I’m sitting between Vicki and Tina as the game starts. I’m zoned out for a lot of it, people are just making others admit their crushes or making them do vaguely embarrassing bullshit. Finally somebody asks me the dreaded question.

“Vivian, truth or dare?” Heather Holloway is the one who asks, she’s another one of Billy's loyal little groupies, sweet girl but her taste in men is abysmal.

“Uh, dare I guess,” I say as I take a sip of my beer.

Heather giggles, “I dare you to strip and take a nice little swim.”

I’m looking at her like I could kill her, “Seriously? That’s what you’ve come up with? If you wanted to see me naked, you could’ve asked…” I get dirty looks from quite a few people for that comment but I couldn't care less.

“Don’t be a baby, do it.”

I glare at her and begrudgingly head towards the nearby dock, everyone in the group follows me, which of course gets others to follow out of curiosity. I get to the end of the dock and debate if I’m really gonna do this; I finish my drink and decide that I have nothing to lose. It’ll probably piss Carol off to no end as well and I love nothing more than seeing her mad. I start by putting up my hair, next I take off my shirt. I’m wearing a red lacy bra underneath it. I hear some asshole yell, “Take it off!” and roll my eyes. I take off my shorts next, I’m wearing a pair of leopard print panties underneath, they’re one of my favorite pairs. I kick off my shoes and peel off my socks before taking a deep breath and jumping in. The water is cold but not cold enough to where I freeze up and can’t swim. I resurface and look at everyone on the dock. Carol looks pissed but everyone else has a smile on their face.

“Is no one gonna join me?” I joke.

“Hell no! I heard they found a body in there, you’re crazy!” Tina exclaims.

“It’s just water,” I say before swimming off.

The water feels nice, I’ve always felt calmer in water. When I was a kid, I’d go to the community pool and sit at the bottom for as long as my lungs would allow me. There was something so peaceful about it. I decide to get out and get redressed; I swim back over to the dock where I see Billy Hargrove standing smugly, his arms crossed as he looks down at me.

“Quite a show you put on there, sweetheart,” He says, clearly trying to sound seductive.

“Mhm,” I say uninterestedly, “Mind helping me up onto the dock?”

He reaches down and helps lift me out of the water, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close to him. I put my hand on his chest to keep some distance. I don’t want him to think I’m into any of this.

“Thanks, Hargrove,” I pull away from him and look down at where I swore I had left my clothes, but of course, they’re not there. I look around with a confused look and then turn to Billy.

“Where the fuck are my clothes?” I ask angrily, I’m freezing cold and in just my underwear with like half of Hawkins High staring at my body.

“You don’t really need them, do you, sweetheart? I mean with a body like that, why cover it up?” He teases, he reaches out to touch me and I take a step back.

I cross my arms over my chest to cover it up, “I’m serious. Where. The. Fuck. Are my clothes?” I’m giving him my meanest glare.

“Give me a kiss and I’ll tell you,” He smirks.

“In your fucking dreams. Just tell me where they are!” I’m yelling now and causing a scene. Carol is gonna murder me.

“You know what, princess? With an attitude like that I don’t think I will…unless you wanna make it up to daddy,” He says.

I damn near slap him across his smug face, but before I can get the chance somebody is coming to my aid. I see Eddie snatching my clothes out of somebody's hands, some asshole football player I can’t bother to remember the name of, and gulp as I watch him walk up to me. He doesn’t say a word as he hands me my clothes, I feel pathetic as I take a minute to even look him in the eyes, “T-Thanks.” I redress quickly.

He just nods in response. He goes to leave but Billy is seeing red and wants a fight. He grabs Eddie by his jacket, “Where the fuck do you think you’re going freak?” My eyes go wide, maybe I want a fight too.

“Billy shut the f-” I’m cut off by Eddie pushing Billy into the lake. Everyone gasps and Eddie goes running, since I’m technically involved in this and don’t plan on having my ass handed to me by Billy Hargrove I take off as well.

I run as fast as I can to the road. I didn’t drive here because I don’t even have a car so it looks like I’m walking, or well, running home tonight. When I reach the road, I take a minute to catch my breath. That’s when a van pulls up beside me. The window rolls down and for a minute I think I’m about to become a missing person. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but get in,” Eddie says.

My eyes go wide and for a minute I’m frozen in place with my mouth hanging open.

“Hey! Unless you want Hargrove’s little groupies to tear you apart I’d suggest getting in.”

I nod and run over to the passenger side and hop in, I’m quick to get buckled so we can get the fuck out of here. He notices me shivering, “There’s a uh, a blanket in the back. You look cold and this piece of shit doesn’t have heat or air conditioning.”

“T-Thanks,” I reach into the back and grab the blanket. I recognize it from Wayne's trailer, it’s the one I always used at movie nights. I smile as I remember the time we had watched The Hill Have Eyes, and I pretended to be scared of the cannibals so I could cuddle up next to Eddie. I wrap the blanket around myself and nuzzle my face into the warmth.

We ride in silence for about 5 minutes before I realize I don’t even know where he’s taking me, “Hey um, where are we going?” I ask. I take a minute to take in his appearance, he looks so much different from when we were friends. He’s been growing out his hair, it reaches his shoulders and curls beautifully. The dark circles he already had under his eyes are even worse now, but he doesn’t look bad. He looks even better than when I knew him.

He rolls his eyes, “I’m taking you home, obviously.” There’s the snarky response I expected. He’s hot even when he’s mean to me.

“Oh, okay. Sorry…” I reply softly.

“Where did you think I was gonna take you? Did your shiny little friends corrupt you into believing I’m a virgin sacrificing satanist or something?” He asks sarcastically.

“Definitely not. You couldn’t sacrifice me anyway, you need a virgin, remember? If you sacrificed me it’d probably fuck up whatever you’re doing, turn into a monster or something,” I joke.

I see him smile and butterflies fill my stomach.

“Sorry I forgot you gave your virginity to Tommy fucking Hagan,” he says dryly. I struck a nerve and now I feel like I could throw up, guilt is clawing in my throat.

“You gave yours to Nicole Summers so I guess we’re fucking even, huh?” I reply angrily.

The rest of the ride is silent, and he speeds up to get to my apartment quicker, we’re there in no time thanks to all the traffic laws he’s broken along the way. “Out,” he says when he pulls up outside of my apartment building. His voice is stern and commanding.

“Thanks for the ride…and for standing up for me,” I say.

“Don’t expect it to happen again, now get out,” He says coldly.

“Fucking fine then!” I hop out of the van, “I’ll walk next time.” I slam the van door and start trudging to my apartment.

“There won’t be a next time! You owe me for this, by the way!” He yells.

“Yeah sure, whatever!” I walk faster up the stairs and go into my apartment.

My mom is already in bed asleep. I come in quietly and tiptoe to my bathroom. I strip off all my clothes and turn on the shower; I take off my makeup while I wait for it to heat up. I slip my hand under the water to check the temperature, it’s perfect. I step in and sigh happily as I feel the warm water wash over my body. I wash my hair twice because I don’t trust whatever the hell is in the water at the lake. When I get out I wrap a black towel around my body and a blue one in my hair. I do my skin care and hair routines; it helps calm me down before bed. I know that tonight it’ll be pretty impossible for me to get to sleep, most nights I’m up for a while and I know tonight it’ll be even worse. I put on a band t-shirt and a pair of black and gray striped panties before getting into bed. I know the shirt will come off before I go to sleep, I can’t stand the feeling of wearing a shirt when I try to sleep.

I get under the covers and turn on my radio, sometimes listening to music before bed helps me clear my thoughts, but not tonight. Tonight the music just soundtracks my thoughts about Eddie and what happened. I wonder what he thought when he saw me at the cooler, and then what he thought when he saw me stripping in front of everyone and jumping into the lake. I wonder if he liked what he saw, or he was still just disgusted by the mere thought of me. I wonder why he helped me. He didn’t have to, he could’ve just left or completely ignored the entire situation but he intervened. He stole my clothes back from some jock and pushed Billy fucking Hargrove into the lake. He’s on two peoples shitlists now all because he helped me out. It makes no sense; he looked at me with disgust when he saw me at the cooler so why help? And why offer me a ride home? God, I just don’t get it, men are so fucking confusing. There’s a reason I limit them to one night and then pretty much force them to swear it into secrecy that we had ever had sex. It’s not that I’m ashamed that I’ve slept with who I have, well besides Tommy, that’s like the biggest regret I think I’ve ever had. I just know what’ll happen if everyone knows who I’m sleeping with, when you’re in Carol and Tommy’s circle everybody is obsessed with who you’re fucking. Everyone loves the drama of getting to label someone a slut or getting to come up with bullshit rumors about your relationship. But if nobody knows shit about your love or sex life, then you can kind of avoid it.

It’s not just my circle whose relationships and hookups get picked apart. Shockingly Eddie’s love and sex life is considered a fun topic to many people. Everyone knows me and Eddie used to be best friends so when he started dating a girl who was practically my clone everyone was quick to spread rumors he was only dating her because she looked like me. I can’t lie, she could’ve been my twin. She had the same hair and eye color as me; she had my lips and my eyes; she was like me but prettier and it pissed me off.

I saw them together once at a party; she was dancing on him and he looked at her like she was the only girl in the world, the strobe lights in the room illuminating their faces. It drove a stake through my heart as soon as I saw it. I remember running into the kitchen and taking a shot, and then another. I was quick to find a guy to hook up with; I hoped it would take my mind off Eddie. I had even let him give me hickeys hoping Eddie would notice and be jealous, but that guy couldn’t even make me cum so I got absolutely nothing out of it. I should’ve been over Eddie by then, and I should be over him by now, but he clings to my mind constantly like a parasite.

I’ve heard the stories about Eddie, sleeping with a few girls here and there, stumbling into short-lived relationships with some of them. My luck is just as bad. Every guy I’ve been with can’t seem to give me what I’m looking for, but then again, I don’t even know what I’m looking for. I just know it’s not whatever a drunk bathroom hookup or a blind date has given me. I’m sick of how I’ve felt since me and Eddie stopped being friends. Some nights it gets so bad I almost pick up the phone. I have his number memorized for years, and I doubt I’ll ever forget it. When I’m drunk, I have to fight back every urge to call him. I know that if I do, he’d either slam the phone down as soon as my voice hits his ears, or maybe he’d cuss me out, tell me everything that’s wrong with me as if I haven’t spent my nights listing off every flaw for years. The emptiness aches through my body like a sickness. It’s an ache that alcohol or pills can’t fix. I don’t know if anything ever will.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x oc #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic

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punsmaster69 · 6 months

Text

25/DEC/20XX

wooooooooooooooo.

that day.

the one.

the twenty fifth.

the holiday.

if i list what everyone got from everyone, i'll be here all night, so just the most notable stuff.

got some new books. and socks. and a giant blanket. and a sweater.

i'm feeling very cozy.

frisk shrieked when they got one of those rock excavation kits from my bro.

(little known fact: frisk has an innate fascination with rocks.)

asgore gifted them an art kit.

alphys got them a mini salt lamp. they immediately licked it.

i got 'em a tungsten cube.

"Why are you so excited over a hunk of metal?"

"It's not a 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘬, it's a 𝘤𝘶𝘣𝘦."

"It's a hunk of metal."

"I'm gonna 'hunk' this at your face in a second."

"Do you WANT to kill me?!"

"No. But stop calling it a hunk of metal. It's a tungsten cube."

"Why do you care, anyway? It's MY cube, not yours."

"It's boring."

"Not to me."

"You underestimate my ability to find entertainment in shiny objects."

"Whatever. Suit yourself."

a lot of us had similar ideas, because flowey got a decent amount of (mostly dinosaur related) brick sets.

it's hard not to notice the pieces constantly strewn about flowey's half of their room.

walking over there's like a spike trap.

might be purposeful.

tori also got him some simulator game. he apparently already had the others in the series, so it makes sense.

papyrus has been using the same pots and pans for ages.

they're a bit charred and dented in places.

so, paps got gifted new cookware.

undyne got him utensils, and alphys got the pots.

tori gave him new oven mitts that don't have holes in them, unlike the previous pair.

i got him a giant puzzle cube. it's got so many rows.

it'll take him forever to solve.

he seems excited.

mettaton got him a robe, because apparently paps been admiring his. they match now.

got asgore some new teacups.

his current ones work fine, but didn't have many ideas outside of that. besides, when have extras hurt anyone?

undyne gifted him a book on slang and how to use it.

alphys' face dropped when she saw it.

"have fun with that."

(some kind of disgruntled lizard sound.)

alphys was ecstatic about receiving a manga she's wanted for ages from undyne.

tori got her some t-shirts. the one alphys liked the most is printed with a ramen brand.

undyne was gifted another giant foam sword.

that was the most exciting one for her.

they've been into collecting these specific stuffed animal things lately, so i got alphys and undyne matching ones.

mettaton had a similar gift, but luckily we didn't end up on the exact same stuffed animal.

something i'll probably regret was getting mtt a tub of glitter.

i know he likes the stuff, but i'm realizing now how this is probably ending.

already preparing to have glitter stuck to me every time he's in the vicinity.

...so not much will change, actually.

papyrus gave him a pillow custom-altered to have mettaton's branding on it.

giving mtt an mtt themed item...

he loved it. suggested that paps could help design products with him at some point.

alphys' gift was apparently done earlier, as it was an adjustment that enabled him to sign things without having to worry about carrying pens.

because his finger turns into the pen. kinda neat, honestly.

napstablook's headphone cord was looking a bit rough, so that's what i got them.

simple, but they smiled.

must not have been too bad a choice.

mettaton gifted tickets to a live band. they'll go together at some point.

me and tori, being old nerdy bookworms, exchanged exactly that: books.

frisk gave tori a cutesy handmade card, signed "by frisk and flowey but mostly frisk" on the back.

asgore gave her a necklace.

she stared at it and flatly thanked him before tucking it into her purse.

undyne gave a pie tin. self-explanatory.

probably exactly as expected, grillby was gotten a lot of various kitchenwares.

we have a lot of cooks in our friend group, i realize.

anyway, he was fond of the sturdy glass mugs i picked out for him.

that's the notable stuff gift-wise.

as for stockings, i went with chocolate bars for the other adults.

plain, simple, don't know anyone who doesn't like it.

safe bet, y'know?

got frisk a bag of those fake rock chocolates. the ones that look exactly like real rocks. they always talk about wanting to eat certain rocks; figured this would be a better alternative to shattering their teeth on real ones.

gave flowey a bag of fake coal.

"for being a butthead this year."

"Jokes on you, I'll gladly take this. And I'm STILL being the same next year!"

"didn't expect any different."

"besides, that's why you got coal last year too."

"Does it even count if it's chocolate coal? Not much of a punishment."

"it's the idea."

"The idea?"

"that you're eating rocks."

"Frisk is the one eating the rocks."

"you want real coal next year?"

"No!"

"Give that to Frisk instead."

"wouldn't be a punishment to them."

there's a lot of candy in each stocking, and most have forgotten who got what anyway.

the certain thing was everyone getting a bone in their stocking.

you know who from.

he gives 'em every year, this being no exception.

——

previous rock-paper-scissors decisions on who brings what dish collaborates now into a holiday feast aplenty.

or whatever jolly terminology i'm supposed to use to say: there was a lot of food. it was good. asgore overcooked the rolls a little. edible enough though.

——

somehow still full of energy, paps, mettaton and frisk are belting holiday songs.

napstablook's dj-ing for them.

undyne and alphys are chatting quietly beside the tree.

asgore is trying to help flowey put together that brick set.

his big hands aren't doing great with the small pieces.

grillby's trying to help him help better.

leaned against me, tori is chilling on the couch. i think she's convinced everyone else she's asleep, but under the blanket, her hand lightly tightens around mine every once in a while.

might be that she doesn't want to draw any attention to it.

...

i don't either, so i'll close my eyes too.

#undertale #journal #sans #papyrus #napstablook #alphys #undyne #toriel #frisk #asgore #grillby #flowey #mettaton #soriel #sans x toriel #christmas #gyftmas #holiday

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vanillabourbon · 1 year

Text

the first of many. | intro | ongoing tlou series

story summary. joel arrives at Jackson twenty years after the outbreak with a young girl that cares for him just as much as he cares for her. little did he know, he would soon meet someone else that would urge his returning sense of humanity one step further.

introductory chapter warnings. weaponry. alludes to suicidal thoughts and behavior. mentions of blood and violence. wounds. kinda sad ngl but let’s call it canon. pls let me know if i missed anything.

story pairings. joel miller x reader, tommy miller x platonic!reader

words. 11k (i went a bit overboard, hehe, but editing is going slow so pls ignore any obvious mistakes. this is the first work i’ve taken seriously so please enjoy :))

Chicago, Illinois. September 2003.

The mind and the body’s initial response is always denial – denial of things, of circumstances, and of situations that are too radical, too unconventional, to believe.

How could anyone believe the events of things as they were? Social and societal constructs had been dismantled in a matter of hours, as if the very fabric of everyone’s being had been tied together by a mere string. The justice and sovereignty in belief, in trust in the nature of things themselves, was apparently so fickle, so haphazardly constructed in the first place, that it took a rapidly spreading infection to displace and make known just how unsafe anything is from harm.

No one should be shocked, really. Least of all you.

In hindsight, which is the only perspective anyone can rely on at a moment’s notice, everything gave way to regret and humiliation. How had no one seen this coming? Everything up until that point in time suddenly seemed so obvious – so commonsensical. It was as if someone had balled up every bad thing and every imperfect thing until it could no longer withstand its own constraints and, instead, chose to flow directly toward the seemingly permanent.

There’s always an element of impermanence in the seemingly permanent.

For whatever reason, now, only a day had passed since the events that led to an abrupt collapse in society as you knew it. You wanted to believe the best – that society and the nature of man would prevent anything from happening. You trusted that the condition of humanity would never outweigh the moral weight of integrity and righteousness. You told yourself that the militant responses of the government were out of necessity and that order and control would fall soon after – or, at least, eventually.

Whether you truly believed that or not no longer mattered.

You were being ushered through the city of Chicago by your older brother, trailing after your uncle, aunt, and two cousins in the wake of another riot. It was dark, darker than any time you had ever stepped foot through the streets of Chicago. And it was bare. Every skitter and harsh knock of a tin trash can sent your brother’s nerves into overdrive; his fingers dug into the flesh of your forearm, dragging you beside him with every step he took. His vice-like grip pained you, but you didn’t bother to tell him that.

You did exactly what he had instructed you before: keep quiet and avoid eye contact.

Military brigades sat empty in the torn and destroyed city streets. Fires engulfed and illuminated countless buildings – convenience stores, pharmacies, mini marts, miscellaneous retail stores. For a moment, you could’ve sworn you saw a young boy, no older than your small cousins, ducking behind a fire hydrant. Tiny fingers braced against the stained red paint, gripping the rusted bolts as if a life depended on it. Maybe it did. But the boy was gone when you chanced a look back.

“Eyes forward,” your brother mumbled.

You didn’t bother to argue. You were far too consumed with wandering, catching stray remnants of the world around you in your peripheral. Anything and everything surrounding you seemed too fantastical, like a stupor you were unable to shake yourself from. The tall, familiar skyscrapers were in stark contrast to the now empty storefronts and abandoned vehicles.

Even though it felt like the end of something, it seemed like the start of something else. Of what, you didn’t know.

Regardless, you wanted to make no effort to distract or distress your brother any further. You’d never seen him so laser-focused, so adamant about one thing, in your life. It was clear that safety was his top priority, and the thought sent your mind and your heart reeling.

Even if your brother hadn’t been dragging you toward Lawrence Avenue, you felt that your feet would have been bumbling about of their own accord. You were sure they weren’t moving because of anything you were doing. Your mind was elsewhere, eyes flitting to and from every glimpse of dark corners and shattered glass you dared to witness. Surprisingly, it wasn’t fear bubbling up and threatening to overtake your every sense; it was surprise, perhaps confusion.

Your gaze would’ve gotten lost down a dark side road as you were marched by it, but you were torn from your daze. A slight stumble, the slip of a toddler’s foot, caught everyone by surprise. One of your cousins rested in an awkward heap a few feet in front of you, ground having scraped her knee and stray debris nearly slicing her palm as she braced herself. Among stray tires and pieces of burnt wood, she looked so small, so petite. Her face twisted in pain and sadness as she turned about, first to you and your brother as you approached then to her parents only a few steps away.

Without missing a beat, your uncle ushered your aunt forward, pushing her lower back and guiding her to keep going. He did the same with his young son before going back and reaching down, scooping up his daughter from where she lay on the pavement with one hand and reassuring her with the other.

Momentarily, his eyes flitted toward you and your brother. It was the first time he had turned to look at either of you since you started your trek. For a moment, you wondered if he was about to say something.

But he didn’t. He only locked eyes for a second, maybe longer, before he was turning on his heels and picking up his pace to a light jog.

Only minutes had gone by before your family’s pounding footsteps were quieted by shouts and gunfire. A frighteningly sudden halt came when you all jolted to a stop. If things were still, you would’ve been gracious for the moment to rest your feet, for the chance to catch your breath and rock back on your heels to ease the pain from your soles. The act of running was starting to take its toll – stripping and coercing your composure and relief from their rightful place.

Calm felt so far removed. Even more so when the gunfire ceased and a loud, nearly automated voice came over a distant speaker: “ALL REMAINING CIVILIANS MUST REPORT TO ONE OF TWO EMERGENCY MEDICAL CAMPS.”

A tan army vehicle passed by your group just then. It rolled passed, and you all did a poor attempt at ducking into the shadows. Your brother’s grip tightened, if that were even possible, and dragged you to his side. Your breath caught in your throat until the back tire of the vehicle disappeared from sight, rolling down the road and toward the loud din still protruding from two streets over.

Whoever was among the shouting didn’t matter. It was clear that there were a lot of them, and that scared you. The streets had seemed so empty, so shallow. For a moment, you could pretend like your family was all that was left, that you all would make it to your aunt and uncle’s vehicle you’d left at airport parking. Maybe drive until you found a place safe enough to sleep. Wake to a world not burnt and bruised on every side.

It was a good dream. A pipe dream, perhaps, but a good one.

Your uncle was the first to move. He wrapped his arms around your aunt and cousins, driving them down a side street a few feet away. Your brother, a slight wild look in his eye, chanced a look around. For a split moment, he looked as if he was going to grab your wrist and keep running, chance a run-in with the military or with a group of people just as scared as the two of you. But he didn’t. He let out a low huff and dragged you toward the same side street.

Your aunt was huddled a few feet away, partially occluded by shadow and rocking one of your cousins in her arms. She was crouched, whispering, or pleading, something in a low voice. It was almost unnerving to watch her come undone.

Your gaze was torn from the sight when your uncle grunted. He was crouched right beside you, tying your other cousin’s shoes. Your cousin’s small hands were splayed across his back as she tried to balance herself.

“Danny boy, you’re with me,” he finally said. He looked over his shoulder and up at your brother. “We’ll run the rest of the way. It’s just a few blocks.”

You furrowed your brow, stepping forward quickly. Danny’s hand was still locked around your arm, but he made no move to stop you nor speak for himself. “Wait, what?”

Your uncle turned his attention back to the small white strings in his hands, his fingers fumbling awkwardly with the small shoelaces. “I know we said we’d get the car checked, but it should run just fine. We’ll come back for them in five minutes, tops.” His head was nodding before he even finished his sentence. “Yeah, yeah. Five minutes. Tops.”

“You can’t be serious.” Since he made no effort to acknowledge you, or to look at either of you again, you turned to your brother. “Is he serious?”

Danny was chewing on his bottom lip then, staring down at your uncle with eyes that did not seem in the least bit alarmed. “You sure about the car?”

“Positive.”

“It’ll run?”

“Should.”

At that point, your chest started to heave. Slightly, but heave all the same. A thickness suddenly but slowly started to coat your throat, like someone had lodged a softball right between your esophagus and windpipe.

Danny might’ve been calling your name, but, if he was, you couldn’t hear him. In seconds, he was dragging you backwards until you were pressed into the wall of the closest building. It was some worn-down bar. Your shoulders dug into the brick. “You have to stay here. Okay? With Aunt Lorraine and the twins.”

And that did it – that truly jolted you. “No,” you protested, hands coming up to grip your brother’s forearms. Now it was your turn to dig your fingers into his flesh. Anything to keep him there and grounded, right beside you, where he belonged. “You can’t just leave me.”

“I have to. We can get the car. Skirt downtown and be on our way to Indiana.”

“What about the military?”

“We can get away from them.”

“How?”

“We can.”

“It’s the military,” you deadpanned.

For a moment, you could almost make out a brief glint of humor in his eyes. The side of his mouth perked up, threatening a smirk that always drove you crazy whenever he found hilarity in situations not in the least bit hilarious. But right now, in this moment, it lifted whatever burden was trying to settle like a rock in your chest. Your brother was still your brother. And, to you, he’d never leave you.

“We just can, alright?” He reasoned. “We have to.”

“Well, what happens when we get to Indiana? What if we can’t find a place to stay?”

“You let me worry about that.”

“But, that’s the problem, Danny. You don’t worry about these things.”

You finally broke eye contact then. Pools of tears were beginning to form, blurring your vision and making everything around you swim.

“Well, that’s why I need you, isn’t it? Gives me an incentive to actually come back for you.”

You scoffed, a slight sniffle leaving you as you did. “As if you’d ever leave me behind.”

“Hey, we need to go, kid,” Your uncle said.

Afar off, he had long since stood and was waiting for your brother at the mouth of the street. When you turned toward him, he looked away, chancing a quick look both ways before exiting the shadows entirely. He loitered there, clearly waiting for Danny to join him.

Your brother had completely ignored him, not taking his eyes off of you for even a second. “Exactly. That’s why you have to trust me when I say I will come back.”

When you returned his gaze, his eyes were as earnest as you had ever seen them. He was telling you the truth and trying his hardest to make sure you believed him before he took off. You did, of course, but something was making every nerve in your body hot and every hair on your head stand. Something wasn’t right.

“I trust your word, Danny, but I have a bad feeling about this.”

“I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”

And something told you he didn’t mean himself and your uncle.

He urged himself forward, pressing a hard kiss to your forehead. He stayed there for a few seconds, crushing you to his chest, before abruptly letting go. He determinedly strode down the street, meeting your uncle on the sidewalk with a firm nod.

Before he disappeared, he turned once more to you and added, “I’ll see you again.”

–

Austin, Texas. September 2003.

If Joel could give voice to the crushing weight of a broken heart or the sudden unwillingness to yield to the innate response to keep going, he still wouldn't be able to properly identify it as true sorrow.

He still couldn’t quite pin it – anger, disbelief, pity … guilt. Everything had happened so fast, as they always do. But never to him. Calculations and planning, pure thought – the things he was used to and relied heavily on simply because they worked – were nothing compared to the devastation of unpredictability – of spontaneity, the unexpected. As cruel as fate could be, as cruel as life itself could be, there was very little possibility that it could bring about something like this – to take something so pure, so innocent, as a life. A child’s life.

A life for a life, he determined.

“Swear?” Sara had asked. Long ago now, it felt like. Something about a birthday cake, but the softness in her voice had sent Joel’s heart pumping with love and affection.

“On my life.”

A woman screamed somewhere to his left. His brow twitched, and, for the first time, he became semi-cognizant of his surroundings. A makeshift medical camp was teeming with victims, families, military and doctors alike, swarming and descending around him. White lab coats and camouflage armor were a hazy swirl as frenzied bodies wheeled grocery carts, gurneys, wheelchairs, beds – anything they could find – all through one Austin plaza.

For one second, one split second, Joel could vividly picture himself and Tommy driving by here on the way to pick up supplies not even two months earlier. He had been laughing, then. Shaking his head at something his brother had said to diffuse his anger for having been late the morning of.

Joel had been clutching a juice box then, too. A ‘good source of vitamin D.’ It felt small and strange in his hand at the time. Foreign. An odd replacement to the coffee usually growing cold in his tired grip. But he had promised her. Even when she threw a smile over her shoulder and clamored out of the truck to bound across her school’s parking lot, he didn’t let the box go until he’d drunk it all. Even when the memory was fading now, lost to a couple of weeks and now permanently overwritten by the last time he’d dropped her off, Joel could still feel the box.

Small. Strange. Like the last image of her now boring into the backs of his eyelids – curling and uncurling her failing grip in his t-shirt with every gasping breath.

Out of nowhere, a woman screamed again. Not loud enough to startle him from whatever depth he was losing his footing in, but still loud. Loud enough to draw the attention of nearby soldiers, who rapidly trained their weapons toward her. They didn’t shoot. They didn’t stand down either.

The woman was on her knees in the middle of all the chaos. A nurse unknowingly side-stepped a soldier and nearly tripped over the wailing woman. She didn’t notice of course. She just knelt there, rocking and shrieking. It took a moment for Joel to notice the small body she was clutching in her hands. A girl. Straight, dark hair thick and spiraling, down her mother’s lap and nearly sweeping the concrete. Her legs were dangling, bedazzled skechers limp and uncanny. There was a trail of blood leading from a misshapen wound – like indents left from teeth – on the girl’s left calf.

He looked away.

“Joel.” A voice came. Hardly recognizable. Seconds later, Tommy appeared in front of him, hands gripping his forearms and eyes pleadingly searching Joel’s countenance with growing anxiety. “Joel, c’mon now. Talk to me, brother. Say something.”

He did say something, though it didn’t quite reach Tommy’s ears. He was muttering, balancing himself on the perch of the old gurney beneath him and rocking himself slightly.

“On my life,” Joel muttered, continuously, trapped in an earlier memory. An earlier conversation. With the only one who mattered.

“Alright, well,” Tommy started, dropping one hand as he scanned the surrounding area. “We need to get you something to cover that hand.” He turned his attention back to Joel, leaning down and pushing forward to take up Joel’s entire field of vision. “I’ll be back, you hear me? Don’t move.”

He was gone almost as fast as he came. At his words, Joel’s eyes dropped to his hand, the one he’d been unconsciously cradling in his lap. Blood dripped, unceremoniously, down the valley of his palm and onto the cracked pavement under his boots. He vaguely remembered lashing out at some guy before being ushered into the camp. In front of some convenience store. He had landed roughly, shards of glass impaling his skin before Tommy got the chance to haul him up and press him to keep running.

There wasn't a single part of him that felt it, though. The gaping wound – the whole ordeal – seemed like a hallucination, like something plucked from the deepest, most submerged part of his consciousness. Something hardly thinkable. Something vicious and unnerving. Something that simply couldn’t be true.

“Dad … Daddy!”

Joel jolted awake. A stray frosting tip fell from his fingers and rolled across the floor until it hit the edge of Sarah’s heel. His vision swam with exhaustion, drowsy eyes sweeping over the kitchen table. A half frosted cake, a bit lopsided and slightly whiter than the yellow version advertised on the box. A frosting bag filled with purple frosting resting precariously on the edge of the table, inches from his hand now numb from laying on it.

In sudden alarm, he turned back to a curious Sarah. “Baby, I –.” When she met his gaze, he just sighed, dropping his shoulders. “What’re you doing up? It’s late.”

“I saw the light,” she said simply.

She bent down, retrieving the frosting tip before ambling over to his side. He watched her every move, weighing every option that popped into his head about what her expression meant. Child-like innocence. Brief reminders of every year he’d spent enjoying her life right before his eyes.

The small gears were shifting in her head; he could see them from here. She was eyeing the cake, if he could even call the mound of crumbled blocks a cake. Her gaze momentarily slid toward him as she neared him. She stopped at his side, a small hand on his thigh indicating her intent. He pushed his chair back, hands easily guiding her up and onto his lap.

“What’re you doing?” She finally asked.

“Figured I’d try my hand at baking. Construction’s getting slow these days. What’d you think?”

His voice was casual, but he was anything but. He had worried his lip in the aisle of the supermarket just at the thought of buying the wrong cake decorations. The moment of truth had come too soon for him. If he hadn’t been so damn tired, if Tommy had gotten the supplies earlier and hadn’t caused the job to go until ten –

“It’s pretty.”

Her voice startled him, laced with joy and, what seemed like, pleasant surprise. Her back was leaned against him, and he could just make out her face, angled slightly away from him. She was smiling softly at the poor imitation of whatever he’d bought. The only store left open had been out of cake mix, of course. A woman in the aisle with him explained how easily he could make something close to it with this. Easy for her was hell for Joel, but he couldn’t put a price on Sarah’s smile at that moment.

“Thank you. Tried real hard on it.” He was trying for humor, but he meant every word. His attempts were born from a real place – a place that desperately wanted to see her light up the way she did when he forced himself to sit through her favorite movie, when they decorated the Christmas tree early last year, and when he finally let her drive the truck on Tommy’s lap.

The two looked at the excuse for a cake. It was leaning now. A small portion protruding from where Joel attempted to make a flower out of a mold.

“Is it –,” she paused, cautiously, but hopefully, picking her next words. “Is it for me?”

“‘Course, babygirl. This masterpiece of a cake ain’t for just any eight-year-old.”

“I’m not eight yet,” she reminded him. “Except,” she paused again, frowning. “My birthday’s tomorrow.”

“You always wake up so early. Thought I’d try to surprise you by fixin’ it tonight.”

She stared a bit longer before nodding decisively and throwing an arm around his shoulders. She twisted in his lap, eyes and smile beaming up at him. “I would’ve slept in for you.”

Luck. It had to be luck. Joy, devotion, trust, unquestionable love. A child’s eyes swim with all of the above, and one child in particular, his child, was looking at him with all that and more. Her tightly-wound curls framed her small face and swept her tired eyes, but her expression remained the same. Joel’s heart twisted at the sight.

He cleared his throat, hesitant to speak with the growing lump in his throat. “You would’ve pretendin’ to, anyway.” He rose, maneuvering her until he was carrying her comfortably against his hip. “C’mon, now. It’s late. Gotta get to bed if you want your gifts.”

Abruptly, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, daddy.”

He smiled, part of him worried his eyes were growing wet. “Anything for you, babygirl. Happy birthday.”

Joel was torn from his stupor at the sight in front of him – the sight he’d been staring at while reliving a memory he felt fading almost as fast as he began to remember it. It was a boy, barely old enough to be a teenager. His tear-stained cheeks were nothing compared to the way his eyes rapidly and wildly scanned the area. His gaze hit Joel’s for only a second before he was moving on.

“Dad!” he was shouting. “Dad!”

The boy was turning in circles, looking every which way and shouting into the sea of unknown faces. Every so often he was jostled by complete strangers – unnamed faces covered in weaponry, medication, or grief. One man bumped into him so hard he nearly lost his footing. It didn’t matter. It didn’t stop his shouts or his turns or his wild eyes cutting through the masses of people.

“Dad!”

“Dad … Dad!”

Joel turned suddenly, new reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose and hands gripping a cup of coffee – fresh seconds. His elbow was propped against the kitchen table he had been occupying for the last hour, mountains of papers and file folders splayed across the tabletop along with a black pen resting atop an unfinished tax document. With Sarah now in sight, his eyes briefly scanned the backyard through the patio-door window, where he’d last seen her playing soccer with Tommy.

His brother, of course, now leaned against their fence with a shit-eating grin on his face as the woman he was talking to from his neighbor’s yard threw her head back in laughter.

Of course.

Joel’s eyes turned back to Sarah, breathing in feigned annoyance. “What? Jesus, you keep calling my name like that you’re gonna dad me to death.”

She snorted. “If I wanted that, I’d do it more like this – Dad. Dad. Dad. Dad. Da–.”

“No, now that’s more like it.”

With a shake of her head, and a small smile, she wandered closer to him with a simple, “What’re you doin’?”

“Takin’ a break from you.”

She ignored him, stepping close enough to peer over the table. Normally, Joel would shoo her away with an obvious hint that she shouldn’t concern herself with whatever was his job. He didn’t like her looking or hearing about their situation in any way, good or bad. She was supposed to be thinking about soccer and school and zoos and the fair he and Tommy were taking her to later that week. Not any of this.

After a moment, he finally did; he abruptly moved forward, reaching and shuffling the papers into a messy stack.

“Nothing you have to worry about, honey, it’s –”

“Line eight E is repeated three times.”

He froze. “What?”

“Line eight, letter ‘E.’ It’s repeated three times.” For emphasis, she pointed down at the document closest to her.

Joel picked up the paper, letting the black pen slide off of it and land with a soft thud on the paper beneath it. She was right. There was no denying she was right. “Huh.”

“‘Sometimes it’s good to have a second pair of eyes,’” she quoted him, turning and strolling to the cabinet to retrieve a bag of chips. He’d told her that when he let her replace the axle nuts on her bike tire. She’d sworn the nuts wouldn’t rotate until he came over to help. The sentiment worked then, and it was working now. “You don’t have to do everything by yourself, Dad.”

He gave her a look, brows furrowing, but her back was turned. She busied herself pouring chips into a bowl. He tried for humor again, responding, “I’m never by myself. I got Tommy breathin’ down my neck every day. He’s all the help I need.”

The only indication of her response was a slight shake of her head, curly hair brushing, back and forth, between her shoulder blades. A quiet huff, something close to a laugh, escaped her.

“We’re also out of milk.” She threw a reply over her shoulder casually, very obviously avoiding turning around.

For a long moment, his eyes were still trained on her. It took a mental connection, a moment of realization, for his brows to lift slightly. His gaze slid over to a purple sticky note hanging diagonally on the refrigerator. Her frilly handwriting, turned cursive upon entering middle school, etched out ‘Get milk from the store!’ in large letters.

“That’s what the note on the fridge is for?”

She remained silent but finished making her snack, ambling back to his side and taking a seat in the chair beside him. There was no need for her to respond, but Joel’s nerves went into overdrive at any and all underlying insinuations. Was she worried about something? Worse yet, was she worried about him?

“Where’s all this coming from?” he continued.

She shrugged, not quite meeting his eyes. “You just work so much. More than usual. I just thought – Least I can do is help you some.”

“You really wanna help out around here, maybe you can finally get a job,” he tried, verbally poking fun. “Pick up a few hours.”

“Oh, ha ha.”

She briefly smiled at him, but the act ended as soon as it began. It was clear something was bothering her. Worry was etched between her brows, and it was then Joel realized that’s how she’d been looking at him all month. Eyes wide and deep with concern; brows furrowed with a tight smile that didn’t seem quite as natural anymore. His heart nearly broke, and he cleared his throat to hide his upset.

“Look, I’m sorry. I know I work a lot, and I’m not … around as much as I used to be. I’ll do better. I will. But there’s nothing you need to be worryin’ about.”

She only nodded before adding a soft, “I know.”

“Good. So you also know I love you, babygirl. Not much I wouldn’t do for ya.”

“I know.”

“That all?”

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “I love you too, dad.”

“That all?”

“Well, I wouldn’t wanna ‘dad you to death.’”

“Oh yeah,” he teased, leaning forward to swipe a few chips from her bowl. He flung one towards her, grinning when a laugh erupted that she couldn’t quite contain. Popping the rest of the chips in his mouth, he warned, “Stop playing with your food.”

The sound of laughter, even from a memory, felt jarring, too rich and too pure for the dark scene unfolding around him. He was long-since aware of his eyes growing wet, and, for once, he didn’t care. Couldn’t bring himself to fear or worry about it. He just stared – from the shrieking woman to the shouting boy to the wide, suddenly imposing, city landscape in the distance. It all felt void, lacking meaning in a meaningless world.

What was to be gained from this? What did any of them gain from anything?

Someone ran by, bumping into Joel’s gurney and swearing a harsh apology in the process. Or maybe just swearing. He couldn’t quite place it, and he didn’t try to. But the action was enough to remind him of his being; his body felt weightless as he drifted from distant memories to distant memories, deliberately failing to grasp one long enough to replace the bitter nightmare threatening to replay itself, over and over again. Maybe if he’d twisted the other way. Or took a chance on running. Or held her a little tighter. Or –

The gurney suddenly felt rough where his hands were gripping the edge, knuckles white and blistering. Now he could sense pain from his open wound. And maybe that was the point. To sense, to feel, something other than what was threatening to send him spiraling. The recent events were still forming pictures in his mind. Consolidation taking its time as depictions kept reordering and restructuring themselves. Building and tearing down again. It was like his brain refused to settle on any one experience.

Because they were all wrong. It was all wrong. It shouldn’t have happened. Not like this.

Emotions had yet to hit him like a brick wall, and, quite frankly, he didn’t want them to. Not now. Not ever. Sensations were returning, sporadically. There was only one he settled on. He vaguely remembered Tommy slipping a handgun into the waistband of his jeans earlier, telling him he might need it before hoisting him to his feet and pushing him to run. To run like his life had depended on it. Even if he was forced to leave his entire life – a child – lying on the cold ground behind him.

That was the sensation he focused on: the hard lick of metal curling its cool touch against his lower back.

Chicago, Illinois. September 2003.

Waiting is just as agonizing as not. You still couldn’t quite decide if you wanted time to go faster or to go slower. You were, however, determined to maintain as much control over the situation as possible. If Danny could manage a calm head, so could you, for his sake and in his absence. You made sure your aunt was comfortable, reassuring her with a few pats on the shoulder after she’d sunken to the ground. Your cousins kept near her, staring up at you with pure curiosity.

You wondered if they understood, or just how much they understood. For their sake, you hoped they hadn’t a clue. If their silence was any indication, you were sure they were fine, probably more so worried about their mother’s – your aunt’s – tear-stained cheeks than anything else.

You tried your best not to glance at the street entrance every minute, but your head was on a swivel. Time itself seemed to stand still. How could you not wish you could do the same? Stand still, as if holding your breath might make it easier to hear your brother’s footsteps come back to you. His footsteps – loud, heavy, familiar.

That’s what you were thinking about when your uncle stumbled through the mouth of the side street he’d left you in. A purple bruise was forming on the lower left side of his jaw. A streak of blood ran across the chest of his gray shirt. Most disturbing of all, he was completely and utterly alone.

“We’ve got to go,” he said.

He hurried right by you, taking long strides towards his family. After checking his wife and daughter, he crouched and busied himself zipping his son’s jacket.

“Where’s Danny?” You asked.

The question hung in the air – thick and unanswered. He ignored you. Easily. His eyes remained pinned to his son’s body as his fingers fumbled, first with the jacket and then with the cuff of his son’s jeans.

“Where is he?” You were still calm, then. With no answer, you pulled back and stepped cautiously toward the end of the street, looking down where he’d come from. When no one else came by, you returned to your place a few feet away from your family. “Where’s Danny?”

All action and thought cease to exist when laughter brings forth pure, adulterated delight. Especially for a six-year-old child. Laughter and millions of innocent giggles bubble over and make it easy for small feet to run freely. Untamed footsteps can easily fall in line with grass and get lost to rows and rows of trees.

Lost. So, so lost.

You stood in the middle of a clearing. At some point, your laugh had burned down to a chuckle, then to silence, when you realized how far you’d made it alone. Your brother had teased you, playfully giving chase about a mile back, and you had wonderfully ran and leapt over branches and small creeks. Even climbed over a small boulder. You only came to a stop when your echoes seemed too quiet for two.

“Danny?” You called to no one in particular. “Where are you?”

It only took a moment for the beautiful chirps and snaps of branches to seem daunting, not tranquil. Terrifying, not serene. The stillness of it all threatened to suffocate you and evoke fear where you didn’t think it previously possible. You wanted to back away, but your foot had already nearly slipped on a slick mud spot.

Your eyes bounced, wildly, from one tree trunk to another. An unfamiliar feeling coiled up your back and settled at the base of your neck. The sun was starting to slink toward the horizon then. Which way had you come from? What would happen if you didn’t make it back home? What if Danny had gotten hurt, and you hadn’t both to hear him or stop for him? Had you left him somewhere?

“Danny!”

There was no answer. Only the distant sound of water trickling over rocks and another quick snap of a tree branch waving in the wind. Hot tears trickled down your face as you dropped down, sitting and pulling your knees under your chin. You were lost, but, above all, you had lost your brother.

“Hey, little sis, look what I found!” You nearly jumped out of your skin, twisting around to see Danny stepping around a bush and joining you in the clearing. He looked up to proudly present you with a small frog, cupped carefully in the palms of his hands. “Wanna name him?”

For a moment, you stayed right where you were. A soft cry escaped your lips, but there was an early sense of relief flooding every part of your small frame. You still hadn’t relaxed your furrowed brows or the frown that wound tightly on your face. Fear had gripped you, and you were beginning to realize it was the hardest thing to shake.

It only took Danny a second to realize you were crying, and only a second longer to bound over to your side and drop to his knees. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He set the frog down on a dry patch of grass before fixing an intense stare on you. “Did you fall? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, sucking in a breath and releasing a broken sob. “I – I thought you were gone.”

Danny’s shoulders dropped a bit. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” He reached out and set a hand on your shoulder. “I would never leave you, okay?”

You nodded, and he dropped his hand. He let you take a few breaths and calm down a bit before he stood to his feet.

“I think we should go back now. It’s getting dark.” He stuck out his hand, pulling you to your feet when you slipped your hand into his. “Do you remember our secret handshake?”

“Yes.”

An easy grin graced his features once more. “Good, you can show me when we make it back home.”

He moved to leave, but you pulled him back. Your hand fell from his and pointed down at the frog. “What about the frog?”

“What about him?”

“He doesn’t have a name.” He stood back and looked at you expectantly. “I think we should call him Rex.”

Danny nodded, pretending to be lost in thought for a moment. He tapped his chin with the tip of his finger before smiling down at you. “I like Rex. It’s cool.”

Your smile returned, and you skipped out of the clearing, grabbing Danny’s hand as you went. That’s how it was, and that’s how it should be, when an older brother is so near – when another’s presence soothes the quiet that only loneliness can bring about. Your tears had dried and a glimmer of tranquility returned to the noises in the air and the stillness of the environment. A feeling of safety returned soon after, too, and the discomfort of fear had fallen without your notice.

His word was enough: I would never leave you.

You half expected him to scare you like he had when you were children. To step around the wall and stumble towards you, completely oblivious to your worries and concerns about his whereabouts. You would berate him, maybe smack his arm or chest for sending your nerves into overdrive, but you would most likely pull him into a hug and look him over for any bruises. You kept glancing in the direction of the street, waiting for an arrival that would never come.

“Where’s Danny?”

“Honey,” your aunt tried, giving your uncle a sincere look that read: Please answer your niece.

He ignored her too, setting his hands firmly on his son’s shoulders and giving him a nod. He looked at his son intently, probably trying to reassure him with just one look. With the state the world was currently in, words were starting to fail. All anyone could do was offer some sense of familiarity in gestures and in looks.

But that wasn’t enough for you. It never would be.

In desperation, you moved to grab at your uncle’s shirt. “Where is he? Where’s D–.”

Your uncle stood abruptly, whipping around to face you. You were nearly chest to chest as he leered down at you. “He’s not coming back.”

Your response was immediate, taking a step back as if someone had punched you squarely in the chest. “Wha– What?”

A long, silent moment went by. You could just make out the screaming crowd now nothing but a soft, inaudible sound to your ears. Your uncle dropped his gaze. He looked almost guilty for not being able to offer you the reprieve you were obviously searching for – the answer he just couldn’t give you.

“He’s not coming back, kid,” he said, softer this time. “I– I’m sorry.”

He turned, picking up his son and grabbing his wife’s arm to hoist her up with him. Your aunt held her daughter close to her chest, unable to meet your eyes. There was another moment of silence between you all. They stood there, uncertain. Your uncle refused to meet your eyes for longer than a second, flitting his gaze from you to the street behind you. It was the sound of another military vehicle that finally made him straighten his posture and look you in the eye.

“You need to get out of here. It’s not safe out in the open.”

He turned to jog further down the street, in the opposite direction of where you’d all entered originally. That’s when your aunt offered you a sincere look. “Come with us.”

You made no effort to move. Your feet were cemented to the soiled street; Your eyes still glued to your uncle’s distressed countenance. His words were the only thing you heard: He’s not coming back.

“C’mon, Lorraine. We need to go.”

“We can’t just leave her here, David.”

The military truck came louder now just as the backdoor to the bar slammed open. A man stumbled through the door and landed in a heap of tangled limbs on the ground. A low growl escaped him as his hands fisted the concrete, and he doubled over, twice, in obvious pain. His brown hair was awry, fingers caked in something you couldn’t quite place. The back of his shirt was ripped in various places, and his veiny flesh was exposed; skin long since too inhumane to not deserve the look you gave him. Your eyes blown wide and jaw slack.

The man’s head snapped up, wild eyes looking directly at your aunt.

“C’mon, Lorraine!” Your uncle shouted louder, backing away and pulling his son tighter to his chest. “We gotta go now!”

Your aunt stayed there, frozen in fear. You took a step back, foot catching in a small puddle and sending the man’s horrid attention barreling toward you. The break in harsh scrutiny was all your aunt needed. She took that moment to hug her daughter close and sprint after your uncle. Their retreating footsteps hit like lead to your chest, every step sending you reeling backward as your chest heaved with something closer to alarm than fear.

The man shrieked, scrambling to his feet and running toward you. For a moment, your eyes slid to your aunt and uncle’s distant figures just over his shoulder. A part of you half-expected them to chance a look back, to answer their curiosity about you and your wellbeing. But they didn’t. They didn’t spare a single look, even when they turned sharply and disappeared around a corner.

A deep pain began to throb, harsher now, from the spot Danny had been gripping your arm. The man was within arms length now, hand reaching out to grab that same arm – the arm Danny had held protectively in place.

Your body reacted quicker than you did. You weren’t sure you would’ve reacted at all, if not for the slightest inkling, the slightest hope, that Danny was still out there, somewhere close. Who would come for him if you didn’t?

With a surprised yelp, you turned on your heels and sprinted toward the street entrance – toward the street Danny disappeared down not even thirty minutes before. Gnashing teeth and a horrible stench followed you closely, squirming and throwing itself at you like an animal. You had made it only a few feet in the street before the man tackled you to the ground. Pain erupted from your knees and elbows as you fell with a sharp cry.

A hand pulled your hair, clothes, arms, just about everything fingers could find purchase. You twisted sharply, coming face to face with the man. His teeth came dangerously close to your face and, on instinct, you brought your forearm up to his neck, pushing him away with as much strength as you could muster. You gritted your teeth, but a scream soon ripped from your throat as his upper body pushed further and further down on you. Closer and closer until –

A shot rang out, and the man’s body went limp.

–

Austin, Texas. September 2003.

The finality of acceptance had still escaped Joel. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to take anything in that moment as truth, no matter how outlandish it might have been.

Two white coats rushed by, stopping mere feet away. Even among the chaos, their conversation was easy enough to overhear.

“I have a dad asking after his kid.”

“Everyone’s asking after someone.”

“Yeah, but she was here when they arrived. Apparently lost her in all the confusion.”

“Take him to triage. A lot of missing kids there. We just revived one.”

Joel looked up at the new truth being presented to him – a truth that was far easier to accept than the one bombarding his current experience. His feet were carrying him away from his spot of refuge before he could even think. In fact, he wasn’t thinking. He was scanning for her. Curly hair. Eyes looking for him as much as his eyes were looking for her.

We just revived one.

If there was a possibility she was here, he was willing to take it. He had already accepted that possibility as fact without his own notice. His heart was elated and his chest was rising just at the thought. It was easier, fairer. And in no way was he preparing, or thinking to prepare, for the inevitable crash that always took place when attempting to deny reality.

“By nine, Dad.” Sarah hopped out of the truck, slamming the door behind her. She went to Tommy’s side, hand clamping down on the opened window and eyes boring into her Dad from where he sat in the passenger seat. “You said nine.”

“I know, I know.”

She opened her mouth to add something, but the bell cut her off. She huffed in resignation before pointing at the two of them, each in turn. With a growing smile, she waved and ran towards her school, throwing a quick “Don’t forget the cake!” over her shoulder.

Just as Tommy pulled out of the lot, his eyes slid over to his brother, and his face twisted into a wide grin he couldn’t hide even if he tried. “Jesus, that kid loves you to death.”

At that, Joel couldn’t hide his own smile, even if the weight of Tommy’s words felt heavy on his shoulders. “Yeah, I know.”

A content quiet fell between the two as Tommy maneuvered out of the school lot. Once he was back on the road, his eyes drifted toward his brother a few times before he shook his head. He always did that when something was on his mind but didn’t know quite how to approach it. Especially when it was Joel he was trying to approach.

“I tell you what, Joel. You gotta cut back.”

Joel was no stranger to the topic Tommy was attempting to bring up. He knew he was working like a madman again, picking up projects and stumbling into the house late at night often long after Sarah had put herself to bed.

Still. He acted oblivious. “What do you mean?”

“Sarah, man. You gotta cut back. Spend more time with her. I know you mean well. You want to provide for her, protect her. I respect that, Joel. Hell, everybody sees and respects that. But she’s still young. Still needs you. It won’t be like that always. She’s got a bright future ahead of her. Nothing’s going to take that from her. From you. Nothing’s going to change that. You don’t have to work so damn hard just to keep it that way.”

Joel didn’t say anything, but he offered his brother a brief nod when he glanced in his direction. They both knew he was right.

“Besides,” Tommy continued with a teasing grin, “you need to get a hold on her before she gets too much older. If she’s anything like we were, they’ll be hell to pay.”

Joel grunted. “Nu uh, my Sarah’s too smart. I ain’t worried ‘bout nothing.”

“You say that now.”

“And I’ll say it then.” Joel nodded decisively. “It’s like you said, she’s got a bright future ahead of her.”

“I know, brother, I know. All I’m saying is that you should make the most of it now. These years will be gone before you know it.” Tommy turned to look at him, more intensely this time. “She’ll be gone before you know it.”

The children were many, but the number that resembled her were few. The child they had revived was a boy no older than four and had been revived for reasons unbeknownst to Joel. The inevitable crash of secret humiliation and embarrassment at his own deception led him to a corner, away from the frenzy and uproar in the camp. Two soldiers stood, with their backs toward him and weapons drawn, with their heads on a swivel. But they paid no attention to Joel. Even with the cool metal resting in his hands, safety off and finger poised at the ready. They still paid him no mind. He might as well have been a dead man.

Should’ve been, anyway.

On my life. Not yours, babygirl.

With that thought, he was ready for anything that might come after. Truth be told, he was more than ready. He wanted to pull the trigger, so he did.

But he flinched. Even before the bullet had left its chamber, a part of him was wholly certain that any shot or amount of lead was not meant for him. It was a destiny he was never meant to share, no matter how much he wanted to.

–

Chicago, Illinois. September 2003.

Four pairs of hands were on you and hauling you to your feet before you could reassess your situation any further. The body slid off of you as you were pulled to your feet; its weight made a sickening noise as it thumped to the pavement at your feet. You were being dragged to an armored truck filled with people – men, women, children. Greedily, you scanned the faces for the only one that mattered. Maybe they’d got him. Maybe they’d saved him, too.

There were a lot of people, but none resembled Danny.

Finally, something broke – anger, bitterness, nauseous … mostly anger. You dug your heels into the pavement, nearly sending one soldier tripping over his feet at your sudden protest. You took the moment of surprise as an opportunity to rip your arm free from his grasp, shoving him away and clawing at the hand still clamped firmly around your other arm. You tried desperately to free yourself, scratching and pulling like your life depended on it. Like Danny’s life depended on it.

“No!” You shouted. “No! Get off me!”

Your doorknob rattled before your brother let himself in, closing the door softly behind him as if he hadn’t already made a world of noise just by entering.

“Jesus,” you started, sitting up in bed, “don’t you know the first thing about knocking?”

“I’ll knock when you stop stealing my sweatshirts from my room.”

Childishly, you stuck out your tongue and crossed your arms. “Fair.”

Without missing a beat, he took three long strides toward your window and looked out, smiling down at something. Undoubtedly his friend’s car, waiting for him in the driveway. “I’m heading out.”

“When are you not?”

“Just open the window for me when I get back, alright?” You got up to join him by the window as he opened it. “I won’t be too late this time.”

“I’m starting to think you like asking for trouble.”

He turned to smile at you – soft, mischievous, winning. Your brother could just as easily ask to leave the house, but he preferred sneaking out. He was defiant just to be defiant, doing so in a way that still made him agreeable and likable. Roping you into his mischief was like a sibling rite of passage, as he put it.

Despite yourself, you smiled back before watching him clamor out of your window. He crouched on the roof, turning to flash you one last smile. “Don’t forget my knock.”

“Three knocks.”

“Always three so you know it's me.” He winked.

“You say that like anyone else would be knocking on my window at one in the morning.”

“You’re right. Because you’re lame.”

“Go before I push you off the roof.”

He grinned widely before turning and inching his way toward the edge. He immediately stopped when you called his name.

“Danny,” you said softly. He looked over his shoulder. “If anything ever happens, don’t be afraid to call the house. I’ll come get you myself if I have to.”

“What could possibly go wrong?”

“I’m serious, Danny.”

“Relax. I know my fearsome sister will always come to my rescue.” He gave a mock salute before jumping down to the lawn. He ran toward the idle car before turning back toward you, cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting, “Three knocks!”

When the soldier had recomposed himself, he walked back toward you and yanked your arm, much harder this time. Your outburst drew the attention of the others on the vehicle. A mom pulled her child closer to her, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was still out there, missing, and not a single person seemed to give a damn.

“Get off me!” You screamed again, voice breaking as a tear slipped down your cheek. In frustration, you sent a swift kick that the soldier sidestepped easily. “Get off me!”

One soldier finally let you go as the other wrapped his arms around you, pulling you off your feet and carrying you the rest of the way to the awaiting vehicle. Your struggle was rendered useless as he carried you with ease, tossing you onto the truck like you meant nothing. You probably didn’t, not to him and not to anyone. But you knew you meant something to Danny, and you weren’t going to go down without him. Not without a fight.

You pushed off the bed of the truck, attempting to scramble off of it and back onto the street. “Danny!” You shouted, pushing a stranger out of your way and making a quick jump for it. “Danny!”

You were sure you were still calling his name, even when the butt of a gun connected with the side of your forehead.

–

Austin, Texas. September 2003.

The sound of a weapon firing draws a lot of attention. Namely from uniformed soldiers who were to make sure all civilians had been thoroughly searched and weapons properly confiscated before entering the medical camp. The mistake was sure to cause one of them trouble, which is probably why they tackled Joel with such ferocity. He was on the ground and surrounded by military and medical personnel before he could blink.

Tommy was shouting his name again, parting the crowd roughly as he clawed his way to his brother. White bandages gripped in his hand. He was searching for him, relentlessly, before catching sight of the commotion. All the while, Joel was calm. The realization hadn’t dawned on him yet; the adrenaline of the deed he was trying to commit had not yet worn off. He was delusional with the loss of will – his volition having been stripped from him through no effort of his or anyone else’s.

For a second, he let himself believe he was dead. Like some instinctual force hadn’t just caused him to flinch.

Someone hoisted him to his feet; all while someone, most likely Tommy, was shouting, “Don’t shoot him! Don’t shoot him!”

A doctor stepped forward. She flashed a light in his eyes. “Sir. Sir? Can you hear me?”

A trickle of blood slid past his peripheral. It dawned on him that the commotion around him was real – it was happening – and his unfocused eyes finally snapped toward the soldier gripping his arm. His unfeeling expression hidden under his helmet felt familiar. Too familiar.

“Joel,” Tommy warned. He knew his brother well enough to predict his intent. He stepped forward, cautiously, trying but failing to shoo the soldiers and doctors back. He momentarily looked between the wound on Joel’s head and the discarded gun on the ground. He hesitated, partially, but hesitated all the same. “He ain’t sick or nothing.” Tommy turned from the doctors back to Joel. “Joel, listen to me, brother. Let’s get you patched up, alright? Let’s ge–.”

Joel was swinging before he knew what he was doing. He lunged, kicked, and swung wildly, nearly ripping himself from the awkward grip now three soldiers had him in. They were strong; non compliant. They wrestled with him for a moment before another doctor ushered him away.

“Here,” the doctor was saying, “bring him over here.”

“Careful, I said he ain’t sick,” Tommy butt in, grimacing at the hold they had on his brother. “Joel, calm down. Everything’ll be okay, Joel. Just — Just calm down.”

The soldiers were dragging him to a nearby gurney. A few medical personnel were preparing a syringe somewhere off to his right. He sure as hell wasn’t going down without a fight, and every single thing he was doing was an indication of that. Somewhere, deep down, he could hear his brother. Calling for him to stop. Calling for him to settle down before they did something to him. But he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Maybe they should do something to him. Put him out of his misery. Or subject him to the same fate they subjected her to. It was a cruel thought that they’d spare him – that they’d do everything in their power not to hurt him in the way they hurt her.

They were wrestling him onto his back when his mouth finally caught up to his actions.

“My daughter!” He shouted. “My daughter. You took her.” He leered in the face of the nearest soldier, tears glistening in his eyes. “You took her.”

A needle was being pressed into his skin when a third voice spoke to him, calmly. Another doctor. “Don’t worry, sir. We’ll find her. I’m sure, wherever she is, she’ll be alright, if she’s not already.”

His next protests were weak as his body suddenly relaxed. His eyes fluttered just as Tommy came into view at his side. Tommy just stared at him. Horrified. Guilty. Sad. They both looked at each other, eyes mirroring one another and telling stories neither one of them were ready to say aloud.

–

2023.

The consequence of grief and sudden loss might be unique to the individual, but it is imminent for all individuals. No one can measure the actions or reactions of another. Neither can blame be given or taken away. The repercussions of any event are often cyclical, far outweighing descriptions or explanations. In any one situation, one might fall and another might rise. Or perhaps one and another might both fall.

With loss, it’s typically the latter.

Joel’s gruff appearance was unmistakable to the people in the Boston QZ. Unsurprising. Like the rumor that swirled around about him after the day’s shifts ended and the people could return to their nightly rituals of whatever placated their poor souls — beer, pills, sex. The former two either stolen or traded for rations.

The rumor didn’t spread far — not past a block, maybe a sector at most. It was a cautious one. A woman told of her inability to toss a child’s body to the flames during her shift. An unforgiving job. A thankless act of service to the QZ that meant discarding the ones killed at the hands of those in authority — by Fedra. Infected. Suspected. Guilty (or not). Didn’t matter. Her story was one that stoked plenty of bitter, angry people who already hated the QZ for their wrongs and misdoings.

But it was Joel who stoked their feelings too — feelings of fear and avoidance. Wordlessly, he had tossed the lifeless child into the awaiting flames with as much absence of emotion as he always displayed. Unfeeling. Unapproachable. Never spoke a word but was somehow enough all on his own – enough to cause others to steer clear, to look away whenever he came around.

The only one that could tolerate him, that could placate him, was Tess. Something she could use to her advantage and soak in the pleasure of.

Nearly a thousand miles away, you were pacing wordlessly outside a freezer in the back of a restaurant in downtown Chicago. A bitter cry had long-since been muted by the sounds of grunts and a flurry of punches before a familiar face stepped out. He didn’t say anything, even when he walked right by you and wiped his hands on a dirty rag.

You did as you always did — followed at his heels. “I don’t trust this guy, Dallas. He’s lying.”

“You never trust anyone.” His face was serious, but his voice carried humor. You rolled your eyes.

“And for good reason. He’s been lying since I found him by the old medical camp near Lincoln Park.”

“You don’t think I know that?”

He turned to look at you, eyes boring into yours for a few seconds. You were dropping your gaze before the intensity of it all could get too thick. For a moment, your attention bounced around the small kitchen. Your ears caught the quiet voices of your group outside — a good mix of men and women.

Dallas turned fully, tossing the rag on the floor and standing in front of you with arms crossed over his chest. “What were you doing near the old med bay?”

“I told you.” Your voice had a dangerous edge to it. You shifted your weight to your other foot and finally met his gaze again. “I ran an errand.”

Unconvinced, Dallas nodded. “You were looking for him again, weren’t you?”

He commanded and barked orders well. You usually followed them — usually. But even he wasn’t stupid enough to mention his name aloud to you. Your sibling’s name was never spoken again after you revealed to Dallas that dark night twenty years earlier. But Dallas knew this was about him. He could tell in the way a muscle in your jaw jumped, and you looked away briefly.

He chuckled. Dark. Low. “Look, I get it. You haven’t been back here in years, and I figured the thought of finding him’s been tempting you since Arizona. But you keep putting the group at risk, and I’ll have to abandon you.”

You snorted. “As if you’d leave me behind.”

“Watch me.”

He was grinning, a certain humor in his tone that wasn’t in the least bit light or airy. There was nothing indicating that he wasn’t as serious as his darkened eyes meant to be. Something twisted in your stomach, heart plummeting, as your smile dropped at the thought. Only a moment went by before you forced the feeling away, choking the thick emotions down until the only thing you could feel was cold metal being pushed into your hand.

“If you don’t trust him,” Dallas muttered, stepping closer to you as he pressed the gun into your limp palm a bit firmer, “then end it.”

You swallowed quietly, taking the weapon and testing its weight without once looking up at him. You could feel him hovering over you. His heat dripped off of him and pooled at your feet. Deep. Menacing. Unforgiving. His request wasn’t the first time, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. But this time, this one time, some part of you felt off. Something tugged at your lips until you unknowingly frowned down at the tigger your finger hovered over.

Maybe it was the mention of him. Maybe your emotions were too high and your willingness finally waning. Maybe it was the sister waiting back at the old medical camp, looking for the brother you helped kidnapped and now held hostage in some worn-down freezer.

“Is this really necessary?” You asked. “If he’s really lying, we can still use him.”

“And have them get to him? He’s a damn liar, sure, but he’s a traitor first. He knows what we did.”

“Yeah, but he did the same to them.” You finally looked back up at him, gun held loosely at your side. “For us. Remember? What else did we expect? For him not to turn on us, too?”

Dallas was quiet for a moment, a long moment. But the way he was peering down at you, with hooded eyes and clenched teeth, didn’t change for a second. “I’ve never stopped to question you. We are the only two here. I never left you.”

You knew what he was referencing. Suddenly the group just beyond the thin white door separating the kitchen from the dining area seemed too close, too imposing. Every person in your group was a new face. Their voices were still unfamiliar and discomforting to hear. Your old companions were either dead or dying, snitching to Fedra for brownie points or taking their chances on their own, and Dallas was all you had left...

He measured the look on your face before leaning in further, adding, “Now’s your chance to prove your loyalty to me.”

Your eyes snapped up at him, mouth now partially agape. Everything you had done leading up to this point had been erased by that measly sentence. Your actions, however gruff and unforgiving, were whittled to nothing before your eyes, and you were made out to be a fraud. Weak. Someone incapable of returning the favor of protection or dishing it out in the first place. The thought made you sick.

With a low huff, you spun on your heels and walked determinedly back to the freezer. You threw open the door to find your old partner, Brett, tied haphazardly to a chair surrounded by two of your guys. At the sight of you, his eyes were blown wide and head shook furiously from side to side. He was shouting something: No. No. No— please, no. But you were already gone, doomed to proving what you had already proved time and time again.

It only took one steady aim before you pulled the trigger.

Your men stood, jaw slack, as Brett’s body fell with a sickening thump. Your knees suddenly felt wobbly as adrenaline seeped from your body in waves, nearly doubling over as a pain hit your chest. You sniffed, waving the barrel of the gun between the two men before pointing it in Brett’s direction.

“Clean this up.”

Perhaps — for you and for Joel and for anyone else — the mind and body’s first instinct is denial. Perhaps sorrow cannot be given a true voice. Perhaps acceptance is far more brutal than the precious time one can spare living a half truth. Whatever the reason, manifestations of pain and suffering matter little when grief goes unnoticed and the heart unattended.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #tommy miller x platonic!reader #the last of us #thelastofus #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #fanfiction #joelmiller #tommymiller #tlou #the last of us tv show

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badmirvcle · 2 years

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Childish - [Prince Paul x Reader] (1/?)

Word count: 2.4k

Pairing: (Catherine the Great) Prince Paul x Fem!Reader / Y/N

Genre(s): Slow burn, (Slight) angst, Mutual Pining

Warnings: Strong Language, Adult Situations, (Eventual) Smut || MINORS DNI || (More warnings will be added as chapters are updated).

Summary: You’ve known Paul your whole life - known that you were to belong to him one day. He’s always gotten what he wanted, so why make it easy for him?

A/N: I haven’t written anything in yeeearrsss so apologies for being rusty! I’m thinking of making this a mini series (maybe 3/ 4 chapters?) I love slow burns but not THAT slow, y’know?

Paul is rambling about something you don’t care for again.

“Do they not know the difference?” you mumbled with thinly veiled disinterest.

Something about the line of succession in Russia, you suppose. As always. If not this, then a myriad of complaints about his mother. You prayed he would find a hobby soon. Nevertheless, you played along.

“It appears that they do not.” he huffed.

“Then perhaps they are ignorant. I suppose they are yet to realise that you are ordained by god. Born to rule. The epitome of Russian male excellence and mediocre height-” you chirp as you slowly sway from side to side to mask your restlessness. You could play this game with him for hours.

“-Oh, you suppose, do you?” His face brightens incrementally for a moment. He hoped it wasn’t obvious how much he wanted to reach out and grab you each time you leaned in close to him, reaching out to delicately grasp a flower’s petals between the tips of your fingers.

“Yes, suppose I do.” As you look away back toward the palace and your watchful mother for a moment, he seizes the opportunity to glance down at your cleavage and let out a quiet, but deep sigh.

The childish back and forth had been going on for almost an hour now. Pettily poking and prodding at whatever words the other strung together in order to force a pleasant conversation. Neither of you knew any other way to be. This was supposed to be a ‘calming stroll’ through the gardens, yet you found yourself unable to breathe your frustration out - constricted by your corset and Paul’s face centimetres from your own, relentlessly taunting you gleefully. You both must have known what this farce really was - a chemistry read. Your mother, off to one side smiling behind her fan with one of the Empresses' ladies, eyeing you both like a hawk. You were having none of it.

“Well.” He continues. “There we have it. May I say no more, lest I waste my precious breath on you.”

You glower at his proud display of childish petulance. You shouldn’t be having fun with this - you’d been informed that it wasn’t lady-like, apparently.

“Why must you be this way? It is not the fault of your father, nor your mother - what accursed thing possessed you in your childhood to have you turn out so intolerable?”

He gawked in stunned silence for a moment, before his eyes brightened and a smile broke out across his boyish face. You hated when he did that. He looked almost pretty.

'Oh here we go' you thought, begrudgingly.

“And what mewling quim did you crawl out of to foster you into the vicious harpy that you are?” finishing off with a sly smile and a smug side-eye.

For a moment, you find him handsome.

Although you hated to admonish it, that was eloquently done. Quite a sophisticated level of snark from him. Touché.

You feign a gasp as your hand is dramatically flung to your forehead and you bend yourself back as far as your silk prison of a dress would allow you, falsifying weak knees.

“Paul! My mother speaks only highly of you, how unbecoming of a gentleman. However shall we join our two houses now? Bring harmony to our court?”

In all honesty, you couldn’t for the life of you remember what you were quarrelling about in the first place - It was irrelevant now. You were bored. Or perhaps it had slipped from your mind so easily because you had caught sight of how the Tsaverich had been eyeing your lips as you spat poison his way.

“On the subject of court and harmony..” You begin, coyly. Paul raises a well-groomed brow at you.

“Your mother- the Empress has expressed a growing interest in my future betrothal. Seems she wishes to see me making some other poor soul’s life a living hell”. You foolishly seemed to think that by jesting about the topic it would soothe the thunderstorm forming over his soft, but reddening face.

“Of course she has. Can’t have me keeping the company of any friends, can she? However would she keep her control over me then?” He attempts to steady his breathing before he stutters out an irritated laugh under his breath. “Besides…are we not already engaged? You are to be mine, she cannot take you then.” He chances a glance at you before he continues on with his train of thought.

You feel your neck flush a warm pink, slightly taken aback at the all too familiar subject being brought up again.

“It has always been a suggestion by our mothers, yes. But surely that is all it is, all it has ever been? We were children then! You; 8 and I only 6 and if I recall correctly, that was the first and last time that we got along” you reasoned, with a huff. “Surely neither of us are so desperate yet.”

Daggers. He’s glaring daggers now. Brilliant. As much as you generally enjoyed taking a hammer to the Prince’s peace, the sudden shift in topics had left you feeling queasy. It was now or never, if you didn’t royally piss him off now then he would be chasing you down the halls until he had you cornered both physically and metaphorically with a ring cutting off the circulation of your left hand. On the surface, you understood what your mothers had intended for the two of you and why - had Paul become any other man and you any other woman, you would have made a handsome pair. But as things were, you would never work. You could not. You drove each other wild and not in the exciting way and you didn’t feel like developing wrinkles by the age of 20 from the stress.

You hadn’t realised that you’d both stopped walking in favour of staring at each other in open-mouthed silence, and it was beginning to become uncomfortable.

‘Please don’t ask, please don’t ask me, please please’ maybe the mental chanting would work to cast a spell of protection to evade the elephant that’s been in the room since you were both barely out of your infancy.

“I will be seeing you at the ball then, I presume? Not one to pass up the chance to sink your claws into your next potential victim, little devil.”

You successfully mask your sigh of relief through a tight smile.

Oh, he seemed proud of that one. His lips were doing that sinister little side smirk you hated so much that you couldn’t look away. And he noticed. He absolutely noticed. So he held it there to tease you.

Little devil.

“Would you miss me too much if I decided not to? Could you bear the loneliness, my sweet Prince?” you purred as you took an unnecessarily deep and exaggerated curtsey, aware of the eye-full he was getting.

An equally exaggerated eye roll and he was back to his usual bratty self.

“Couldn’t stand to miss witnessing you hunting those poor men down for sport” he laughs softly, almost to himself. “Besides, it will be a welcome distraction, perhaps you’ll cause enough of a ruckus so that I may avoid my mother’s beady gaze for the evening and find some fun in a quiet corner for myself.”

He looks at you excitedly, almost as if he were a child who knew something you did not.

But a child you were not. Sex was hardly beyond your comprehension.

You’re not exactly sure what caused the sudden flush over your chest and the following hot anger, but before you could reason with yourself you found your own voice strained and spitting venom.

“Make your best effort to avoid the headache of bringing along some bastard for both our sakes while you’re off having this ‘fun’.” You scowl. “I would hate to give anyone any more reason to chain us together under the eyes of god. No getting out of that one I’m afraid, so do try to keep yourself out of the wrong maid”

Ah, that was a tad cruel.

“I wasn’t planning on- planning to-” Paul found himself floundering now, desperate for his eyes to not betray him and sink back down to watch your lips curve smoothly as you whispered your increasingly harsh ‘japes’.

You’re jealous.

He’s flustered, but not in the way you found yourself wanting him to be. Where that sudden thought came from, you would ruminate in the privacy of your chamber tonight.

‘Little devil’ you mused again. You liked that.

“No? Good. Now, I have other matters to attend to, I must be off.” You really didn’t want to leave him so soon, his reactions were starting to get interesting.

“Now just a moment-” Without thinking, he’s extending his arm to reach blindly for your hand, never once breaking eye contact. Are his eyes becoming glassy? He’s adorable, you want to see him like this more often, you think.

Now you’re feeling mean.

A chance to make him panic.

Maybe you can make him cry.

“Can’t keep your mother waiting, we have much to discuss. Good day, Tsarevich.”

“Tsarevna.” He mumbles softly, his cheeks dusting a soft pink as he looks down at his feet in a slight bow.

But you catch none of it - already marching back toward your grinning mother and her ever growing gaggle of gossipers. She looks proud, at least. Most likely mistaking the physical closeness of yourself and Paul to be playful attempts at stealing shy kisses, rather than hissing curses to each other through an awkward tension you’d never experienced before. Well, not with him of all people.

“My darling girl-” she sings softly into your ear as she embraces you just a tad too tightly to call it lovingly.

“Matushka” you attempt to bow your head slightly in gentle acknowledgement.

“I see your outing went well with your Prince, he couldn’t keep his gaze off of you - not even for a moment, we all found it so absolutely precious.” Her eyes flicker back down the gravel path and to Paul for the briefest moment before meeting your anxious but expectant gaze again. “Whatever spell you have cast over him, keep that up. We shall make a Princess of you yet, it was meant to be as our Patriarch told your father and I on the day we-”

“-On the first day you brought me to court - yes mother, god forbid I ever forget my true purpose here.”

“Good girl. Now, I’ve been informed that the Empress personally invited you to a joint dress fitting for the festivities. You shouldn’t keep her waiting and you can’t afford to miss this appointment, you must aim to be the most eye-catching cherub in the room - mustn't let another steal his affections.”

It hurt. You were hurt. As much as you willed it to be different, it would never be. You were not brought here to make friends, to find your place. You were here to be groomed into the position of Tsarevna - the future wife of Tsarevich Paul. As immature as you knew you had been, you knew deep down that this is why you had never allowed yourself to become close to him in the way you had wanted to - you wanted to be his friend so desperately, whilst growing up. You just could not allow yourself to blindly follow the path that had been designed for you by your puppet-master parents and their equally scheming Empress.

Perhaps you wouldn’t have much in the way of control over your life, but you’ll take the small victories by making the desires of your betters just that little bit more difficult to attain. They cannot force your happiness, therefore it had been decided by you that should you be forever chained to Paul - you would have him live to regret it.

Of course, that had been the plan. Throughout your childhood, you had always found Paul to be rather unpleasant to look at. The way his face would scrunch up in tandem with his fists whenever he had a temper-tantrum, his cheeks and neck turning an ugly shade of plum as his anger rose - which was constant. You had always towered over him - he was a shy little thing, shook like a leaf at the slightest confrontation from the other children. This led to you becoming his protector, naturally. He was never quite the Prince who was supposed to sweep you off of your feet one day.

Every summer, you would make the lengthy trip back to the palace and make good with the lords and ladies of court, be sweet to the royal family, unwittingly court their son and then be on your way back home with your parents and nanny. That is, until your father received an invitation for a permanent position at court and your mother - a long time friend to the Empress, to be welcomed into her tight-knit circle of vipers-in-waiting.

3 years had passed since you had last found yourself here, you had quite been enjoying your education in France and felt reluctant to return.

Yet, somehow. At some point, the rug had been swept from under your feet. That morning, as Catherine had come to greet you all for the final time at the main entryway to the palace, the eyes you had met 100 times over her shoulder were not the same angry little black dots that you had grown so familiar with. Instead, your breathing had stilled as you struggled to maintain a mask of polite indifference.

Were they always so big, like a baby deer’s? So vibrant. Did you spot flecks of gold now that he was out here standing in the sun? His jaw had sharpened too - and he was taller, taller than you. Much taller than you and broad. Now possessing a strange but alluring confidence - no, arrogance that really should not have had you standing there, openly staring with not a single word forming in your mouth or brain. Paul was handsome. 3 years and he was handsome.

Not one to usually be self-conscious, you suddenly find your eyes flitting over yourself. Did you fill out your dress nicely? Was the light shade of lilac adorning your tightly-fitted gown a fashionable choice? Was the wind carrying your perfume and was it to his liking or perhaps it was too overwhelming?

Unbeknownst to you, Paul was suffering through his own internal crisis. You had made it no secret to him in your adolescence just how unbecoming his face and attitude was, how your own face soured around him and how it was doing something similar in this moment. His mother was talking but all he could hear was white noise and his own stifled breathing as he rapidly and openly scanned over you. In some twist of fate, the two of you had shared a thought that morning as you stood together, bowing to each other in your matching shades of purple as if you were two flowers from the same meadow. A romantic thought had crossed his mind for a moment, but only for a moment - of this being fate. A romantic however, he was not as he’d let the notion slip away from his mind as easily as it had entered.

A/N ii: this one goes out to all of my argumentative girlies, fighting means flirting here & you’re in a safe space to be as mean as you want to your boy toys <3

#childish fanfic #you waaaaant eachother #reader hates Paul’s wig #she’s just waiting for the right moment to tell him #prince paul x reader #joseph quinn #x reader #catherine the great #mini series #joseph quinn characters #joseph quinn x reader #prince paul

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