#(i tried a new kind of lining & coloring on the truck! i will never be doing it again!)

[ckret2]

So y'all know the Gravity Falls production bible that leaked three weeks ago. Someone in one of my discord servers pointed this out:

And, naturally, that spawned an entire AU.

AU Concept: Ford was kicked out instead of Stan and takes a job as a trucker to makes ends meet since he couldn't go to college, while still studying the weird and anomalous however he can.

Ford driving around from quirky small town to quirky small town, drifting through the liminal spaces of truck stops, meeting odd people in isolated diners, seeing strange things out on the road—a deer with too many eyes bounding across a two-lane highway, a flirty woman at a rest stop who doesn't blink or breathe, mysterious lights in the sky at night, inhuman growls on the CB or 50-year-old broadcasts on the radio—and taking notes when he stops for gas or food.

Aside from having gotten kicked out before graduating high school, Ford's the same person he is in canon.

He's still an ambitious guy, and here "ambitious" means working hard and saving as much money as he can—so, a long haul owner-operator who spends weeks at a time on the road. (He goes through a LOT of educational audiobooks.) Plus, this is the easiest way for him to get to travel the country; and since it looks like his "travel the world" dreams with Stan are dead, he'll take what he can get.

Since he's never in the same spot long and carries his life in a truck, almost all of Ford's research is in his journal. His bag of investigation supplies has an instant camera, a portable tape recorder, a thermometer, a flashlight, rubber gloves, and a few zip lock bags—and that's about it. It has to share space with all his clothes, toiletries, and nonperishable food when he's on the road. He doesn't have much opportunity to closely examine anything odd he finds, unless he's lucky enough to run into something when he can stop for the night. He has to cram his paranormal research around the side of his full-time job.

He doesn't live in Gravity Falls, but he knows it exists. Every time he moves—to Chicago, to Nebraska, to California—he seems to inch closer. He currently lives in Portland and usually hauls loads between the Pacific Northwest and Chicago or New York. He stops at the truck stop outside Gravity Falls when he can and has gone fishing in town a few times. He doesn't have the benefit of extensive research to know that this is the weirdest town in the world; but it seems pretty weird to him, there are local rumors about the town, and he's had some weird experiences in the area.

Plus, he can't explain it, but it's like the town's calling to him. He wants to move there, but it'd put him over an hour outside of Portland where the nearest jobs are. Maybe if somebody chucked him like $100k to build a cabin in the woods; but what are the odds of that?

He does know Fiddleford. Truck broke down somewhere and Fiddleford kindly pulled over to fix it on the fly. They looked at each other, had mutual knee-jerk "dumb trucker/hillbilly" reactions, and within ten minutes both went "oh wait you're the most brilliant genius i've ever met." Fiddleford's living the same life he was in canon before Ford called him to Gravity Falls—with his family in California, trying to start a computer company out of his garage—but they make friends and keep in contact.

One time Ford stops at a kitschy roadside knickknack store that also sells new agey magic things—crystals, tarot cards, incense, etc. He bought a "lucky" rearview mirror ornament that looks like an Eye of Providence in a top hat and hung it from his cab fan, and ever since then he's had weird dreams whenever he sleeps in his truck.

Things I don't know yet: what Stan's up to; or why Ford's the one who got kicked out. I tend to believe that in canon Stan wasn't just kicked out because he ruined Ford's college prospects, but rather because the family thought he deliberately sabotaged Ford; so in this AU, Ford would've been kicked out over a proportionate crime.

[in1-nutshell]

Susan and Ironhide get discovered

SFW, Platonic, Mention of injuries, Slight Angst, Human reader

TFP

I wrote this before the request for continuation of Susan and Ironhide began. I sort of forgot I had it written, until I found it. Welp, better late than never!

If someone had told Susan 2 weeks ago that she would not only end up making her grandpa proud but also make a new friend, she might have taken you to the nurse’s office.

Ever since she had found Ironhide, things in life seemed a lot more colorful.

She was thrusted into the world of Cybertron and its war. Her new friend, Ironhide, had been held prisoner for a while on a Decepticon spaceship before managing to snag an escape pod and arriving to Earth.

Sadly, due to his rough landing, his com link and long-range scanners were busted. Meaning even if he did find someone, it would be a while until he actually knew there was anyone nearby.

“What are ya doin’ kid?”

Ironhide questioned once he saw Susan try and lift a side to an old communicator. He gently shut it back into place.

“I’m going fix it.” She said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Kid, ya don’t even know our technology. Compared to yer’s, and I mean this with no offense, pretty primitive in comparison.”

Susan nodded.

“I’m still gonna to try. If me trying means any step closer to finding our teammates then I’m all in for it!”

Ironhide’s spark felt a bit warmer.

“Kid, yer’ already doing a lot for me.”

“Its not enough though.” Susan muttered just loud enough for Ironhide to hear.

Ironhide smiled a bit at the human before patting her head a bit.

Susan blinked a bit before smiling at the older mech.

The young girl swore to help him on his journey to find anyone on his team or side of the war. Susan was well aware of people like herself looking for any sign of alien life form, sadly not all of them had peaceful intentions like she did. She eventually made the hard decision to take down her alien sighting blog. If this page meant hurting Ironhide, she rather not have it at all.

Ironhide found out about her ultimate decision after finding her crying a bit at the deleted page. He felt a bit guilty for making her lose something that meant a lot to her. A bit more salt to the wound once Susan opened about her grandfather and the reason why she actively sought out for other life amongst the stars. The older mech made it up to her by bringing her along to get his new alt mode to blend in with the rest of Earth’s vehicles.

Susan was bouncing all over the place the moment Ironhide managed to scan a big red pickup truck.

As weeks stretched on into months, the two ended up falling into a routine.

Ironhide, after reading up on Earth traffic laws, would drop Susan off at school, then he would either work on his com line or he would go around town looking over some of the vehicles and seeing if any were his comrades. So far, none of his trips have been successful.

After school was over, Ironhide would go and pick Susan up and then they would go to Susan’s grandfather’s old, abandoned workshop. This was where she would try and work on Ironhide’s communication equipment while telling each other their day and stories.

The old workshop was the one thing Susan’s grandfather had left her and her parents either were kind enough to let her have it, or still didn’t realize it was part of their property. Either way, it was their place. It was a place where inventions were made, and things were fixed.

Though the last invention Susan tried to make was a spark detection device for Ironhide. They had driven into one of the smaller canyons, far from the town. Susan gave him specific instructions to hide, and she would use the device to find him. From Ironhide’s little hiding place the device looked like it was working… until it suddenly exploded.

Susan screamed in pain and surprise as she quickly let go of the device.

Ironhide quickly ran to her side, kneeling and servos hovered over her crouched body. He was only getting to know some bits about human patch work, but he hadn’t gotten to the lesson on ‘What to do when a machine explodes in your face’.

“Kid! Kid! Suzzy you, okay?”

He gently helped her sit up.

The girl’s hands slowly left her face as she grabbed onto one of Ironhide’s digits.

She had some cuts on her face as well as some slight burns and soot.

“I’m fine ‘Hide. Not the first time this has happened to me.”

The bot face dropped at this.

“What do you mean ‘not the first time’?”

Was it strange that the girl reminded him a bit of Wheeljack and Perceptor?

Susan tried to stand up straight but was carefully cupped into the red mechs servos. He looked grim.

“I think tha’ enough for today.”

“But—”

“Suzzy, the machine practically exploded on yerself and you still want to do something?”

Susan yawned a bit.

“Maybe a nap will do.”

The mech raised an optic.

“After you clean up.”

“After I clean up.”

It was nice to have a friend that looked out for the other. Susan felt complete knowing she had at least one friend in this world that didn’t mind all of her.

Which brings up the trio.

Jack, Raf, and Miko.

Susan did her best to keep all conversation with them to a minimum or if absolutely necessary. They never gave her a reason why they didn’t show up to her watch party. As much as she wanted an answer to it, the girl ended up shelfing it as another trick and she didn’t want to hold a grudge for that long anyways.

It was for the best.

She did notice Jack and Raf try to have a conversation with her sometimes, but it never stuck and usually ended up with them both leaving. The thought was appreciated, but it still didn’t cover up what they did and the fact they never acknowledge that they didn’t go to the party as well.

Miko didn’t even attempt to talk to her.

But no matter, Susa still had Ironhide.

Not even her parents’ absence and words could bring her down as soon as she remembered the Cybertronian.

…

Ironhide was late.

Not when it came to picking her up. He was a very punctual mech arriving at the same time every day like clockwork. So, when Ironhide didn’t arrive after an hour of waiting, Susan was understandably worried about what could have happened to her friend.

But she wasn’t the only one waiting for her ride, apparently so where Jack, Raf and Miko. Which was strange to Susan too. Their rides were almost as punctual as Ironhide, though on occasion she’d see them carpool or at the even rare chance see them pile into an ambulance. The girl figured that because Jack’s mom was a nurse that she had a friend at the hospital that could give them a ride.

“Nice weather we’re having.”

The sound of the young boy’s voice made Susan jump a bit.

Raf had sat down next to her while his two other friends were either watching the road or watching him.

Susan smiled a bit.

“Yeah, I guess it’s nice.”

They fell into silence.

“So… where’s your ride?”

Susan shrugged trying to play off her anxiousness.

“Don’t know. He said he’d come pick me up, but this is the latest he’s ever been. What about your ride? You three are almost as punctual as mine… something happen?”

Raf scratched the back of his head.

“Something like that.”

Susan hummed and looked back at the road.

For a second a flash of red drove past the corner, she thought it was Ironhide.

It was just some shiny red sports car.

Doc Austen if she was correct.

Susan suddenly felt a hand on her pulling her forward.

She turned to see Raf pulling. He looked worried, what was he so worried about? The boy started walking them both to Jack and Miko who looked almost as worried as Raf. Now something was up. It was one thing for Raf to be nervous about something, the kid was nervous about a lot of things. But if Jack and MIKO were nervous about something, then there was something to be worried about.

“Susan, you need to follow us.” Raf said as the group started moving away from the street.

“Follow you? Follow you guys where? And why?”

Miko gave her a slight glare.

“Susan for once, stop asking questions and just follow us!”

Susan glared at Miko and stopped in her place.

“I’m not going anywhere until I know where you guys are going and why? Why did you guys freak out when you saw the sports car?”

Jack gave her an apologetic look.

“As much as I want to explain Susan, we really need to go. Our lives and now yours are endangered. You just need to trust us.”

Susan pursed her lips while giving him a glare as well.

“Trust isn’t exactly given Jack, its earned.”

Miko sighed loudly.

“Well, we’re about to earn it but we need to move now!”

Susan wanted to say something else, but she caught something in the trio’s eyes.

Desperation.

…If it was that bad…

Susan gulped a bit and followed the trio into some of the back alleys in the town. The group continued to weave in and around the buildings until they reached the town’s limits.

Miko reached for her phone and began to call someone.

It rang two times before a smile came onto her face.

“Bulk! We’re at the drop point. But we got another passenger with us.”

…

“No, it not them… its Susan.”

Susan felt a bit offended by how the other girl said her name.

“Yeah, I know, but we saw Knockout—”

“Don’t wear it out.”

All four humans jumped at the new voice behind them.

It was the red sports car.

It was now that Susan was closer to the car that she noticed something off about the car.

It had an insignia.

An insignia that Ironhide told her to stay away from at all cost.

“Decepticon…” Susan muttered as she watched the car transform.

Her mind immediately went to the others. She looked at them.

They all had worried looks on their faces, but none of fear… almost as if they had already—

They KNEW.

The trio knew about the bots and Cons!

Susan was too busy thinking of her realization that she barely registers the sound of something else transforming when her body was suddenly snatched up.

Her vision was blurred as she was tossed inside someone’s interior. The seatbelt was wrapped around her waist and arms tightly, defiantly was going to be a mark there when she woke up. The red sports car, Knockout, immediately slammed the accelerator and went speeding down the road leading out of the town. Susan tried squirming with the seatbelt, but it just got tighter. Her ribs started feeling more of the pressure.

“Sit still! You’re lucky that I didn’t put you in the trunk like I did to your other human friends.”

Susan’s hand carefully went into one of her pockets where the prototype S.O.S button was. She originally made it as a way to get the others attention on something important. This happened after she found out Ironhide had come in contact with a family of skunks and didn’t know how to properly approach them. She remembered the questionable looks she got at the shop after buying almost all the tomato juice in the store. Her wallet was crying that day.

Hopefully it would work this time and not blow up on her… though that could help her out of here… but it could also cause more problems.

“Can you tell me where we’re going?”

The seat tightened a bit.

The bot didn’t respond.

“Please?”

“Don’t play coy human.”

Susan winced at the harsh tone. They were driving farther and farther from the town, the sun slowly setting. Where was Ironhide?

“…What’s your name?”

“What?”

“Oh, sorry I, I mean designation. What’s your designation?”

Susan could feel the raised optic through the rear mirror.

“…Knockout. Didn’t your little Autobot friends tell you about some of our names?”

“I’m not friends with the Autobots.”

“Sure, you aren’t.”

Susan huffed a bit.

“I’m not. Since when have you seen me with any bot besides today?”

There was a silence. Susan couldn’t help but smile a bit at the sudden realization hitting the Decepticon. He grabbed the wrong human.

“Well, I still can’t just let you go. Lord Megatron will have my helm!”

This was a problem.

Megatron was a name that Susan was familiar with. Ironhide made sure to explain who the evil warlord was and what he had done. The old mech tried to keep it kid friendly at first, but after some coaxing and talking, Ironhide started telling her some of the stories with detail. That was one Decepticon that she did not want to meet.

Susan shifted a bit.

“Do you really need to take me?”

“Yes. Sorry Fleshy but there’s no talking your way out of this.”

A soft vibration came from the button. The girl smiled a bit.

“What are you smiling about?”

“You should really let me go.” Susan replied.

“Why?”

Susan just smiled a bit.

“I have a friend who on the way to beat your tailpipe.”

Before the Con would answer, a loud honking sounded out. From the rear mirror Susan could see the rusty red pickup truck speeding down the road. Ironhide was coming.

Knockout scoffed. “Did you really get more of your human friends to come and get you?”

Susan just smirked.

“Who said he was human?”

It was at that moment that Knockout looked closer at the trucks frame. The shiny Autobot badge glisten in the last of the sunrays. Suddenly Bulkhead appeared behind the new bot. And he was alone…

Oh great…

And he just got his finish done today!

No! He rather face Megatron’s wrath than ruin this finish! It took Knockout MONTHS to find this type of wax. This was supposed to last for another week!

Susan belt was suddenly let loose and was suddenly tumbling across the small dune of sand.

She was thankful enough that Knockout had the decency to slow down before throwing her out of the car. The girl half expected the Con to turn around, but he never did. If anything, he drove faster.

Susan spat out sand and tried to stand up, only to stumble back to the ground. Her legs felt like jelly, suddenly feeling lightheaded and feeling something dribbling down the side of her head. She winced a bit seeing the familiar shade of dark red liquid sticking in her fingertips. It was going to take a bit more than a couple of band aids to fix this one.

“Suzzy!”

Susan’s head started seeing some dots with how quickly she turned her head. She saw Ironhide and the green car transform. Ironhide immediately knelt next to her, gently sitting her up almost afraid that touching her more would hurt her. Susan tried to use his servo to stand, but her knees still felt like jelly. Luckily Ironhide caught her in his servos and held her up to his chassis.

He turned around and faced the green bot with the trio following closely.

Susan waved a bit at the green bot with a weak smile still clutching her head.

The bot looked at her a bit curiously before looking at Ironhide.

“You said Ratchet’s still round. Figure he can fix ‘er? She’s never had something like this before.”

Susan zoned out for a bit, but it was enough to notice Ironhide transform around her, safely buckled in the front seat and following the green car.

Silence.

“…You okay there Suzzy?”

“’m okay. Just a bit of blood.”

“That’s not wha’ I mean Susan.”

Susan. Full first name. He was serious.

“… I’m not really sure right now ‘Hide. A lot of this is… well a lot. But if this helps you—”

“Susan.”

“I mean they’re your teammates. You actually found them!”

“Susan.”

“And I get it if you go—”

“Susan!”

The girl clapped her mouth.

“Suzzy. I’m not leaving ya. I’d be a mad mech if I leave ya by yer’ lonesome. Especially after everything. I ain’t never been a bot to leave another in the scrapheap and I ain’t gonna start now.”

Susan couldn’t help but shed a tear at what Ironhide had said. She gently traced circles on the steering wheel.

Whatever was going to happen, Susan wasn’t going to be left alone. Ironhide was going to make sure that never happened.

…As well as find out why in the world Bulkhead, of all bots, gave him a face when he mentioned about saving Susan from Knockout. He was going to have a few words with Prime and Ratchet if he was going to get to the bottom of this.

Please tell me this is what TFP Ironhide would look like. This is Ironhide right?

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 12: Heart On The Line

Chapter Word Count: 4,193

TW

(including spoilers) 1) SOMEONE GETS SHOT, IT'S MESSY. 2) Major Character near death experience (Someone flat lines) 3) REALLY BAD DESCRIPTION OF MEDICAL ENVIRONMENT / Someone puts their hand in a body (non-sexual, actually horrible) (this is here because I- listen….this is a heavy chapter) 4) Mouse has some trauma, we'll get into that later, kinda 5) Gross depiction of blood. 6) Someone throws up 7) This is my villain arc 8) Everyone is sad. 9) I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it.

Master List | Prev | Next

Seungcheol had requested your presence at the penthouse in the middle of the week late at night, having one of their men drive you over. Wonwoo had sent a message to your work computer about it and once you replied, it was gone. 

The man had walked you from the car, to the elevator, and to the set of double doors that separated you from the second home SVT shared. He opened the door and you entered but closed the door behind you. 

Looking about, no one else was in the penthouse from what you saw. The place was quiet and you didn’t want to poke around in their business by walking down the halls. 

“Hello?” You called out, sliding your hands into your pajama pants pockets and got closer to the hall but didn’t step through the arching barrier. “Seungcheol?” 

Was this some kind of test? You thought, furrowing your brow in confusion. 

Taking your phone from your back pocket, you pulled up his number and called, hoping to hear a ringtone but nothing came. Anxiety bubbled in your chest and you tried to call Seokmin but it went straight to voicemail. 

“What the fuck-” 

“Ma’am!” The driver threw the door open, panic in his eyes. “ King has told me to bring you somewhere else-” 

That didn’t ease the anxiety, you felt sick to your stomach. “What’s going on?” 

“I- Something has happened.” 

The car ride there was nerve wracking and each moment that past made you want to crawl out of your skin. The driver was speeding through the city towards the warehouses near the waterways, the red lights he had to stop were taunting you maliciously. He did not say a single  entire ride to the new destination. You’ve never been this far into the warehouse district and it was mostly abandoned but the building you pulled up to had Pledis Shipping written on a sign. The lights were on and the driver rushed you from the car and in through the main door. 

The openness of the building was weighing down on you, it was dizzying as unknown faces stared at you as you rushed around them towards the back. You didn’t bother to notice the crates and trucks that littered around, things being moved or looked through. You stood out for sure in some old pajama pants and bleach tarnished hoodie, not wanting to change for a simple meeting with Seungcheol. 

Ushered into the back of the building, under the second level overhang, you stopped dead in your tracks. The floor was covered in a trail of blood, still fresh by the bright color. The sight made you want to throw up. 

“-’am!” The shout had you snapping out of the trance placed upon you. 

A loud rumble of a scream down the hall had you moving once more. There in the hall was half of SVT, they were either pacing the floor or sitting on it, back pressed against the wall and heads low. Chan was hanging his head and Minghao sat beside him, rubbing his back. Seokmin was holding onto Soonyoung and Junhui like his life depended on it. Seungcheol was pacing at the far end near the door, speaking with a teary eyed Seungkwan. Wonwoo wasn’t to be seen, but you assumed he was at Pandora and was making his way down into the city as you spoke. 

“Sir I-” The driver began and you pushed passed, eyes still on the blood trail that lined the floor. 

“Mouse, you shouldn’t-” Seungcheol called out but you were already opening the door. 

“Jihoon, knock him out already!” Jeonghan yelled, trying his best to hold Mingyu down with Vernon as he thrashed and screamed out in pain. 

The room you stepped into was more of an emergency room type area. There were a few medical beds with machines beside them and cabinets upon cabinets of supplies. The left wall held two doors, both labeled ‘shower/bathroom’ for convenience. 

In the far right corner was a sectioned off with a smaller room, windows outline the top to be able to see in. Jihoon was struggling to get the needle in with how much the taller man was lashing out.

Rooted in place, you stared in disbelief at everything before you. 

Mingyu was hurt, blood was on the floors leading exactly where your gaze was placed on. Jeonghan was yelling for Jihoon to keep trying but each time it got harder and harder. 

Your feet were moving before you had a chance to think. Pulling off your sweatshirt and leaving you in the tanktop below, you hurried to the sink and washed your hands and arms as fast as you could, thankful your hair was already pulled back out of your face. You didn’t know what you were going to do to help but you needed to help. 

Jeonghan yelled your name but you ignored him. 

“Give it to me and all three of you hold him down-” Your voice was shaky but Mingyu didn’t stop thrashing on the table and he was getting blood everywhere, wasting all his energy in the pain of it.

Jihoon looked to Jeonghan for an order and he warily nodded. The syringe was placed in your hand and Jihoon moved to use all his strength to hold town Mingyu’s shoulder. You grabbed his bicep when he was stable enough and jabbed the needle into his arm, pushing the sedative. Thankfully it didn’t take long before it kicked in and the thrashing and screaming went from violent to calm, somewhat shallow breathing. 

Jeonghan grabbed surgical scissors and quickly cut open Mingyu’s shirt, revealing something you only thought you’d see in movies. In his lower right abdomen were two holes, both leaking blood at an alarming rate. You rounded the table and Jeonghan ordered Jihoon and Vernon to collect gauze, forceps, and anything else he could need. Off the counter, you grabbed a handful of gauze and started to apply pressure to the wounds the best you could. 

“I’m going to need a blood bag,” Jeonghan called out as he hooked Mingyu up to a heart monitor, blood pressure cuff, and placed an oxygen mask. Jihoon wasted no time in placing an IV and starting a saline drip to get everything going. He pushed a few small syringes of medicine through the line silently. 

Looking over to the monitor that beeped steadily with his heart rate, it was low but his blood pressure looked decent given the circumstances. The gauzes beneath your hands were getting soaked and warm blood was coating your palms and fingers. You threw the other ones aside, out of the walkway field, and grabbed more, leaning as much of your weight as you could down on the wounds. The other three were moving around you quickly but it was all a relative blur, keeping your focus on the task literally at hand. 

“Mouse, I need you to step back.” Jeonghan stated calmly. 

Lifting your head, you could see the concern on his face. His eyes were darting between Mingyu and you, keeping the best neutral face he could. You didn’t want to move, your mind was racing. 

The blood wasn’t stopping. How did this happen? Why did it happen? Is he going to die? 

Jeonghan held your stare before slowly moving his now clean hands over one of your wrist and pulled it back. 

“I’m not leaving.” You finally managed to say and he nodded again.

Dropping your hands to your side, you stepped back. In a flurry of movements, Jihoon and Jeonghan were starting their work. Vernon assisted in getting what they needed, but you lent a hand in hanging things over, grabbing more items, and overall being an extra set of hands if needed. 

You stayed quiet, watching them all work, calling things out or cursing at something going on. It was sickening and painful to watch them press and dig into the wounds, trying to find the bullets. It was clear there wasn’t an exit to both holes with how much they were frantically working. 

“Vernon, put your two fingers here.” Jeonghan pointed and without hesitation, Vernon was placing his fingers against one of Mingyu’s bullet wounds, applying the pressure asked, while Jeonghan was holding a small retractor to see inside. “ Fuck- I can’t see anything with all this blood. Give me the suction tubing.” 

Jihoon was grabbing it and the hiss the machine made as it extracted any blood from the wound sounded distant in your head. Jeonghan said something and a pair of long forceps were placed in his hands and the ends of it disappeared inside of Mingyu’s abdomen. The beeping of the monitors was the only thing grounding you to reality, letting you know that Mingyu was alive, that he was breathing, that he had a fighting chance. 

You took a few steps closer to see what was happening more clearly. Jeonghan was holding a retractor still, keeping the first wound open while Jihoon was trying to get the bleeding of the second to at least slow down. Vernon was holding gauze to catch any trailing blood and keeping his fingers right where Jeonghan had told him to. 

“I got the first one-” Jeonghan yelled out, relief flooding your mind for a moment. He was slow in taking it out to not hit anything internally and dropped the bullet on the tray to his side. “We need to get the other out and close it up quickly-” 

The machine that was monitoring Mingyu’s heart blared a loud, ear piercing alarm that had your heart dropping to your stomach. A chorus of curses were shouted out and it became clear that Mingyu was flatlining. They scrambled to start preventative measures but you were quick to move, pulling up a stool you found in the corner of the room and pushed Vernon out of the way to start CPR.

If you weren’t keeping the blood pumping through Mingyu’s body, you would have laughed. You were very angrily yelling the lyrics to ‘ Stayin’ Alive’ in your head, compressing down on his chest with all your might. If he didn’t wake up with bruised ribs, you weren’t doing it right, that’s what your first-aid instructor told you years ago.

Jihoon and Jeonghan were quick to put up the blood bag and placed another IV, saying something about him losing too much blood and needing more to sustain his heartbeat. It took a few moments and a dose of whatever medicine Jihoon pushed to help him, but the rhythmic beating of his heart came back and it was steady. 

You climbed off the stool to give space once more but adrenaline was pumping through your limbs, hands trembling and breath shaky. Blood was still coating your hands from earlier and you couldn’t bother to step outside now. Sweat clung to your skin, a gross layer that sent chills down your spine in the cool air. Jeonghan, Jihoon and Vernon were working fast but skillfully, wasting no time to get everything done. Backing up, you placed yourself against the wall and just slid down it, letting yourself rest on the floor, eyes never leaving them as they did their work. 

The tightness in your chest had you heaving breaths in and out, pulling at your shirt like it was going to help. It felt like the room was spinning, your pulse was pounding in your head and an agonizing headache debilitated you. Images you never wanted to remember flashing behind your eyelids with every blink, each chilling you to the core.

It took a good two hours for everything to be done. They found the second bullet and needed to search for any internal damage and patch up anything that was caught in the crossfire. More gauze pads were thrown on the floor, needing to have a clear field of work. You were letting the rhythmic beating of Mingyu’s heart calm you, still scared it might stop once more.

Jeonghan had requested your help towards the end with cleaning off the blood around each stitched up incision and bandaging Mingyu up. Jihoon muttered something about pushing antibiotics as a precaution which both men agreed was for the best. 

 Mingyu wasn’t out of the woods just yet, he was probably going to need one more bag of blood and it would be a waiting game of when he was going to wake up. 

Though you didn’t have to, you started to organize the tools that would need to be cleaned and sterilized, placing them all in a row by type of tool while the other three finished up. Your anxiety was fueling this tired perfectionist streak to give some sort of control to the situation. You moved more or less on autopilot, picking up gauze pads and tossing them in the biohazards trash they had in the room, seeing that your hands were already dried with blood. You used other pads to kneel down and wipe up some blood but it could only do so much, blood was horrible to clean and the iron smell was nauseating the longer you breathed it in. 

“Hey,” Jeonghan knelt down and stopped you. Your eyes were fixated on the crimson red streaking the floor. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” 

“But it’s a mess-” 

“We’ll have someone clean it up. Don’t worry about it.” Jeonghan took your hand and removed the pad from it, standing you up not a moment after. Both of you had a decent amount of blood on your hands and wrists, Jeonghan’s extending up to his elbows and definitely on his gray button up. 

 Quietly, you spoke, keeping your voice as steady as you could. “I want to stay here with him.”

“I know, I’m sure he would like that.” Jeonghan spoke softly, leading you from the surgical room and into the medical bay. “We’ll get you some clothes to change into and have you take a shower while we transfer him into a cot so he can rest, okay?” 

With a nod of your head, you were walked to the bathroom and encouraged to head in and clean up. Jeonghan told you to take as long as you needed and promised that Mingyu would be waiting right in the room when you came out. 

Left alone in the bathroom, the first thing you did was empty the entire contents of your stomach in the toilet. You had been holding it back since you had blood on your hands and the headache only pounded harder. You wanted to cry, really you should be crying, but it didn’t feel like there was anything to cry. Everything felt out of touch – numb – and you just wanted to get clean.

You didn’t know how long you were in there if you were being honest. Once the water hit your back after stripping, everything moved in slow motion. The scorching water burned, but it hurt less than the pain that thrumbed in your chest. With your head hanging, you watched as steaks of blood dripped from your wrists and hands, letting you process the last few hours. 

Mingyu nearly died. Whatever situation they found themselves in was bad enough to result in Mingyu getting shot. You didn’t pay attention to any of the guys outside earlier when hurrying passed, not knowing what their injuries were, if any at all. As you thought over the situation that you didn’t have full context to, anger was starting to build up, the burning taste of stomach acid just at the back of your throat once more.

Scrubbing every inch of your skin came after the blood was nearly water-washed off. The small hand towel and antiseptic soap was enough for the job and left your skin bright pink. A knock had you jumping and bracing yourself on the walls behind the thick shower curtain. 

“I’m just putting some clothes in here for you. He is in a proper bed once you are done washing up.” Jeonghan’s voice bounced off the walls when the door opened and was quickly closed soon after.

You finished your shower and toweled off, tossing on the sweater and joggers provided, each item warm and soft against your irritated skin. Letting the towel rest atop your head to catch any droplets of water, you checked yourself in the mirror, wiping the fog off the surface with a hand. Through the clouded image of yourself, you could see that you looked pale. Your eyes drooped but you knew you weren't going to get any sleep tonight between staring at Mingyu’s heart monitor and waiting for him to wake up. The headache was still a dull ache behind your eyes. 

Shaking off the discomfort, you tugged the towel from your head and pushed the door to the bathroom open, your socked feet shuffling against the clean white floors. 

“-Know she was gonna rush in-” Seungcheol whispered to Joshua and Jeonghan, throwing his hands up in defeat, the three standing off towards the entrance of the room. “She just went in on her own.” 

The room was flooded with all of SVT. Vernon, Jihoon, and Jeonghan had showered in less time than it took for you to. Wonwoo was sitting beside Mingyu’s bed, head against the edge of the mattress. Seungkwan was hugging Vernon’s side, dried layers of tears still streaking his cheeks, eyes red and puffy. Minghao and Junhui stood at the foot of the bed, Minghao’s hands gripping the end of the bed frame to the point his knuckles were turning white. Jihoon was grabbing some medicine from the cabinet to your right, mumbling something you couldn’t catch under his breath. Seokmin, Soonyoung, and Chan were sitting opposite Wonwoo, the youngest holding Mingyu’s hand tightly. 

“That isn’t an excuse, you should have stopped her-” Joshua scolded in a hushed voice. They weren't as quiet as they thought, but everything felt too loud and too bright. The overstimulation that coursed through you was dreadful. 

Ignoring them, you walked over to Wonwoo’s side of the bed and dropped a hand gently on his back, letting your nails drag against the fabric of his t-shirt. He didn’t lift his head but he didn’t make you stop so you used it as a way to soothe yourself, knowing that you could be providing a smidge of comfort to someone else. None of you spoke around the bed, there wasn’t a need to. It smelled too clean now that you’ve showered. Your feet were cold against the vinyl flooring. The image of a blood covered Mingyu kept flashing in your mind.

“Enough.” Jeonghan said, louder than the two. “It’s over, let’s get through this.” 

“SVT,” Seungcheol’s voice rang out and most of them looked to their leader, Wonwoo even lifting his head. “Jeonghan can’t have the horde here all night, you know his rules.” 

A few grumbles of protest followed. 

“If you want to sleep upstairs on the couches, the floor up there, I don’t care, but I need you out. I don’t need to have to push you all aside and have you crowd my field if anything is to happen.” Jeonghan crossed his arms. “And don’t argue, this was the same with Seokmin and Jihoon. I’ll be here all night with Jihoon.” 

Another wave of protests followed. Seungkwan looked ready to cry again. Their love for the tallest was heartwarming but Jeonghan was right. Though this wasn’t a hospital, it was enough of a medical room to warrant the need for space in preparation for any disaster. They were averse to the idea of leaving, but with more prodding from Seungcheol that Mingyu would be fine and they needed to sleep, they left one by one. Jihoon administered whatever he grabbed earlier with more space and checked each machine to make sure it was hooked up properly, leaving once he was finished up. The oldest three stayed near the door and Wonwoo was the last of the younger ones to leave but you continued to rub his back. 

“Wonwoo,” You said barely above a whisper, letting your fingers draw continuous patterns on his back. “I’ll stay here, you know I won’t let anything happen.” 

He lifted his head to look at you, eyes shiny from unshed tears. His eyes study you, likely looking just as hollow and worried as he was. “Call me if anything changes.” 

Giving him a nod, you stepped back to let him leave, filling the space where he sat previously. You scooted the chair a little closer and gently took Mingyu’s much larger hand into your own, turning it slowly into a more comfortable position. Any move you made scared you enough to think it was going to hurt him. 

“Jihoon, go up and take a break, I’ll handle the rest for a bit.” You heard Jeonghan and footsteps out the door were a signal the shorter man left. 

The three chairs across from you were soon filled, the three oldest deflating and taking a breath for what felt like the first time all day. Raising your eyes to them, Joshua was rubbing his face and pushing his hair back, Seungcheol was slouched, head hanging back with his eyes closed and Jeonghan looked exhausted, slightly more composed then the other two but you could see the worry behind his eyes. It might have been hard on them, they were the heads of the whole operation. You wouldn’t be surprised if the three blamed themselves for what happened to Mingyu. 

“Tell me what happened.” You broke the shell of silence, keeping your voice low as if it would disturb the man knocked out before you. 

Seungcheol sighed but didn’t move. “They were at that building where you first saw us. We bought it as extra storage. One of the distributors we had was trying to two time us, Mingyu was there helping oversee the hand offs with Chan, Soonyoung, and Jihoon. God, he wasn’t even supposed to be there but another person was needed because of how large the case was.” You’ve never heard Seungcheol more upset since knowing him. There was a shake to his voice that had your heart breaking. “Shots were fired and Mingyu got hit twice since he was the closest to the fuckers. Soonyoung drove here as fast as he could and he got here not even ten minutes before you showed up.”

“Did they get-” 

“They handled it.” Joshua answered before you could fully get the question out. 

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you let your thumb run over Mingyu’s knuckles, watching the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. “If you three want to take some time to rest, I’m not moving.” 

Joshua shook his head, “You don’t have to, Mouse. We can have someone take you home.” 

Your eyes moved to him and your eyes narrowed in a glare. “I’m not moving.” You repeated sternly. 

“Ah, if looks could kill.” Jeonghan tried to lighten the mood with some humor, but you moved the glare to him and even he tensed up at your icy gaze. “...Sorry.” 

Seungcheol met you with a glare of his own, thick eyebrows drawn together in a frown. 

Should you have backed down? Yeah, probably. But really you knew that they needed a moment to collect themselves and you needed a moment to try and wipe the traumatizing image of Mingyu flatlining from your memory by watching him. 

You held his glare, tightening your hold on Mingyu’s hand, mirroring him with a frown of your own. In the moment, you weren’t scared of Seungcheol, not that you were fully scared after the many encounters you’ve had with him. Sure, he could threaten to kill you, you’ve probably done more than enough for him to toss you to the curb. He could actually kill you to tie up loose ends for all you cared, but you weren’t going to move from this spot until Mingyu woke up. You’d go out kicking and screaming if they tried to drag you out. 

“Cheol, I don’t think we are winning this one.” Joshua placed a hand on Seungcheol’s leg and patted it. “And before you think it, I don’t think threatening her will make her back down.” 

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’m exhausted so I’m not even going to fight you, Mouse. I’ll have Jihoon and I switch out every hour to check up on things.” He stood and stretched, long limbs playfully hitting against his friends. Both swatted him away. 

Seungcheol grumbled out a ‘ Fine’ before raising to his feet. Joshua followed behind the oldest as he exited and Jeonghan went to a cabinet and grabbed a neatly folded blanket. He returned and unfolded it, draping it over you to keep you warm. He ruffled your still wet hair and soon left. When the door closed, you leaned forward and folded your arm to cradle your head against the mattress. Really you more collapsed than anything, criss crossing your legs in the chair to get comfortable the best you could. 

Tag List is Open! Comment on the BSH Master List to get added!

Tag List:

@unlikelysublimekryptonite @iiaweirdo @aurorajoye

[watchmegetobsessed]

Waiting for you - Harry Styles

❄️ FANFICmas 2020 ❄️

Read more about FANFICmas here!

i wrote it over like a month ago, but kept it for today, i hope yall will like it! it’s a cute bestfriends to lovers fic, so yeah... happy holidays, hope you are having an amazing time!

word count: 13k

masterlist

Harry Styles has been a household name around your home, but not for the reason many would think. While for the rest of the world he was the famous singer, former member of One Direction and recent solo artist, the guy who performs at the biggest arenas, wins awards and sings his heart out through the radio, for you and your mom he was the goofy, curly haired boy who lived across the street with his mum, sister and stepdad.

You still remember all too clear the first time you met him. You and your mum just moved into your new home after the nasty divorce of your parents, ready to start a new life. You’ve barely turned twelve, it was quite the awkward stage of your teenage years, you were still trying to find yourself on the rocky road of growing up. Moving to a whole new town and switching schools were terrifying and you had quite a few nightmares about possible outcomes of being the new girl in the neighborhood.

You and your mum just finished unpacking the dishes in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. She rushed to answer it and you wandered behind her, curiously peeking at the guests under her arm as she held the door open.

“Hi! We saw the trucks and thought we would say hi! I’m Anne and this is my son, Harry,” the nice woman greeted your mum and stepping aside she gestured towards the teenage boy standing next to her.

His green eyes fell to you almost immediately and you forgot to breathe for a moment. You were not the kind to crush that easily on guys, well, not until you laid your eyes on Harry. He smirked at you, nodding in your way in such an easy-going manner and you could feel the heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks and ears.

Anne and your mum quickly became good friends. She was the rock your mum definitely needed after such a bad year behind her and you were glad she found support in such a wonderful woman as Anne. Their newly funded friendship got stronger day by day until the two families just… simply felt one.

Growing up the Styles siblings and Anne came and go in your home as if they lived there too. On many occasions you came home from school only to find Anne in the kitchen while your mother wasn’t even home. Anne always knew when your mum was working the night shift at the hospital where she was a nurse and always made sure you had a warm dinner on those evenings, often inviting you over to just stay at theirs while your mum was away working. Birthdays, graduations, Easters and Christmases, they were all spent at either yours or at the Styles home, strengthening the bond between the two families.

You have always had a strong friendship with Gemma, but maybe because you were closer in age or for something else, but you became the closest with Harry. Two peas in a pod, as your mums liked to call the two of you. You weren’t just neighbors or good friends, it was clear to anyone and to both of you as well that you were the best of friends. You were there for each other at the best and worst of times, before and after Harry’s launch to stardom. You were there with him all along, sometimes physically, sometimes just through text messages and reassuring calls when he just needed a piece of his home away from home. Late night calls and talks were your usual when he was on the road and he made sure to only talk about his life after you’ve told him everything about yours, even if the most interesting thing was that you were able to buy three socks for the price of two. Harry listened and cared for everything that happened to you, not letting you think even for a moment that he would forget about his best friend when he is on the other side of the planet.

The two of you grew up together and while his life consisted of concerts, screaming fans, telly appearances and award shows, your mundane everydays went on the same was as any normal young girl’s: you graduated from high school, went to uni and then started a career for yourself. As time was moving it became a little more and more complicated to stay as close as you used to, though, both of you terribly busy with your own personal lives, so the calls, texts and meetings became less frequent, but you were always able to pick up from where you left, it was as easy with him as it could be.

Maybe that’s why you grew to love him in a more than friendly way through the years. Slowly, but surely you started to realize what an amazing man he really was –is. It was impossible not to fall for him, however you valued your close friendship more than to just ruin it with dropping a bomb on Harry. You always thought he doesn’t feel the same way, so you were sadly left with your daydreams and fantasies about him only your bedroom walls heard.

This year it’s gonna be the tenth Christmas you get to celebrate together, quite the anniversary. There were only two years when you didn’t see each other during the holidays, the first one because you and your mum spent it in Canada with some relatives that live there, and the second one was because Harry couldn’t come home a few years ago, having a too tight schedule. But this year, everyone made sure to make it back home in time. Harry called you three month before Christmas to check in if you are still gonna coming home.

“Would be an idiot not to. Can’t wait to stuff my head with cookies!” you chuckled.

“Have you found your sweater yet?” Harry questioned, the muffled noise of the traffic around him broke through the line as he was on his way home when he called.

“Not yet. But I’ve been looking. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna win this year,” you smirked in victory.

“Oh, not so fast with the assumptions, little girl!” he warned you making you laugh.

The two of you had a kind of tradition. Every year, you go on mission to find the ugliest Christmas sweaters one could find, and then perform a chosen song at the karaoke machine after dinner, entertaining the rest of the family. Those performances are the best memories you nurse. Your absolute favorite one was just a couple of years ago when Harry’s sweater was filled with weird looking reindeers in quite inappropriate poses, he even added a glittery pair of sunnies and he sang I Want To Break Free from the Queen. Everyone was on the floor laughing as he took the living room by storm as if it was the Maddison Square Garden filled with thousands of screaming fans, while it was just the five of you.

He won that year, Hell, even you voted on him, giving him the cleanest win of all times, but you swore to live up to that performance and you really feel like this year is gonna be your chance to live up to that promise. You have quite some tricks up your sleeves.

These past couple of years you were anxiously waiting for the holidays to roll around, because you knew you would get to spend so much time with Harry and through the year, even with several occasions of the two of you meeting, you missed him dearly. Sometimes you selfishly wished he would have just stayed the boy across the street so your lives could take tracks that run at least close to each other, but you always reminded yourself that his work was his life and you would have never taken away his true passion and happiness. Besides, you love watching him perform from time to time, that was just one of your favorite sides of him, see his eyes shine so bright as he sang to his fans. You used to envy the fangirls, it always seemed like he had a special connection with them, but you realized that you were one of them. You felt the same excitement when he stepped on the stage, you bought all his albums, even though he made sure you’d be one of the first people to get your hands on it. You had a second copy of them, because buying it gave you the extra jolt of happiness and the feeling that you were a tiny part of his success too. You watched all his music videos, knew the lyrics to his songs and cheered on him whenever he won another award. Difference was that at the end of the day you could call him and tell him how proud you were of him and he stared back at you with that beautiful grin, his dimples digging deep in his cheeks, telling you that he wouldn’t be here without you. You always knew he just said it to make you feel special, but he insisted it was the truth.

“I’m telling you. It you weren’t with me I would have gone crazy already, pulling a Justin Bieber or summat. Don’t think you are any less than what you are, that’s just daft.”

Every time he said something along those lines those damned butterflies in your stomach went crazy and you tried your best to ignore them. You didn’t always succeed, but the effort was there.

 Now it’s two days before Christmas and you are already standing in your old room after coming home from London, leaving your small but cozy little apartment empty until the next year. The walls are still the same lilac color you chose when you were fourteen, a twin bed is pushed against the wall under your window, the wardrobe’s door is littered with old pictures from high school and ones you cut out from magazines. You just never got around to take them down and after a while it brought you a comforting sense every time you came home. A warm nostalgia took over you when you saw them, so they eventually stayed.

Your suitcase is lying on the floor as you unpack some stuff you’ll be using often during your stay, but you don’t get far in the packing when you hear an all too familiar voice coming from downstairs. Leaving your stuff as it is you rush down and throw your arms around Anne from behind, who is standing in the kitchen with your mum.

“My sweet angel! How are you?!” she cheers turning around in your hold to hug you back, giving you a tight squeeze before she pushes you away so she can have a good look on you. “Swear you get prettier every time I see you!”

“Stop it, my head’s gonna get big,” you chuckle feeling yourself blushing a little.

“Never gonna stop praising my daughter,” she smiles and gifts you with a cheeky wink.

Anne was never shy to let you know that she thought of you as a second daughter and you still remember how it felt when she called you that for the first time. It felt nice to know that you could count on her no matter what.

The three of you chat in the kitchen, Anne asks you about your job and how things have been going, she hasn’t seen you in a while. You missed the times when you could just go across the street and have a talk with her whenever you wanted, but since you’ve moved to London, Harry wasn’t the only one you didn’t get to see as often as you would have wanted. Your job and life overall got you so busy sometimes, you barely had time to call your own mum.

“Harry is arriving this evening. Wanna come with us to fetch him up at the airport?” she asks you and of course you say yes. You wouldn’t miss the chance to greet him with a bone crushing hug just after he lands.

However, as the time nears when you’d have to leave to the airport, Anne calls you up and asks if you could go on your own.

“I didn’t finish cooking and Gems is in an online meeting. Would you mind if you went alone?” she asks and though it sounds a little made up, you don’t question her.

On your way to the airport you are nervously drumming on the wheel, the thought of seeing Harry excites and worries you a little. It’s been months since you last seen him in the flesh and though you’ve talked plenty of times on the phone and in video calls, it’s just not the same. You find yourself wondering if he still smells the same, if you’ll fit the same way into his embrace as before. When you were younger you often liked to think about the two of you as two pieces of legos when you hugged. Your frame just fitted so perfectly against his body, he was your absolutely favorite person to hug.

Standing in a corner at the terminal, you keep checking the board until his flight’s status changes to landed. Then your eyes are glued to the sliding glass doors, knowing well it’s gonna take him some time to get his bags and walk out, but you are just way too excited to finally see him again.

People start walking through the doors and your head perks up every time you see a slightly tall frame, only to realize it’s still not him. Until it is.

You can’t bite your growing smile back when you spot him, a beanie and the hood of his hoodie covering his mop of hair, sunnies hiding his eyes, but you’d recognize him even from just the tiniest detail. You push yourself away from the wall as you see him look around, probably searching for his mum and sister, because he was already on his way when Anne decided it’s gonna be you who fetches him up, so he doesn’t know about the change.

“Excuse me, can I get a picture?” you ask teasingly walking up to him and for a moment you can tell he believes it’s a fan who recognized him, but his face quickly changes once his eyes land on you.

“Fo’ fuck’s sake, you had me for a second,” he breathes out, his arms already reaching out to pull you against him and you gladly envelop yourself into his hold. “What are you doing here?” he mumbles tightening his arms around you, and you don’t mind it. As you face is pressed into his shoulder you smile when you realize that he still smells the same. Like home.

“Your mum asked me to come and get you because she didn’t finish cooking. But if you ask me she just wanted to surprise you with me. You happy to see me?” you smirk up at him letting your head fall back so you could look into his eyes.

“Always,” he grins before placing a soft kiss to your temple and letting go of you.

The two of you leave the terminal before anyone could recognize him and packing his stuff up into the car you head back home.

You hand your phone over to him once you hit the road so he can be in charge of the music and it’s no surprise when he starts playing Christmas music straight away. Grinning to yourself you glance over at him and see him scrolling through your camera roll like the nosy little gremlin that he is.

“Hey! I did not give you permission to snoop around my phone!” you warn him, but don’t try to snatch it away from him, there’s really nothing he shouldn’t see, besides, half of those pics have been sent to him through messages.

“Just tryna catch up w’ you,” he mumbles under his breath, continuously opening up photos he is interested in. “New couch, eh?” he asks showing you the screen for a second.

“Yeah, bought it a few weeks ago. You like it?”

“Looks comfy. I should try it out sometime.”

“You never sleep on my couch, what are you talking about?”

“Right, you always drag me t’ your bed,” he snorts and you gasp at him, smacking his chest gently.

“That’s so not true! You always just arbitrarily make yourself comfortable in my bed and I don’t have the heart to kick you out,” you correct him.

There hasn’t been many times when Harry crashed at your place, but when he did, he always slept in your bed with you, and the two of you have shared a bed a few other times prior too. It’s nothing new, though it does have a deeper meaning for you than for him, you think. Waking up with Harry snoring lightly next to you, admiring how peaceful and beautiful he is in this intimate state, you just wish you could see him like this all the time.

Harry smirks at you cheekily, scrunching his nose as he chuckles.

“’Cause I wouldn’t want to sleep anywhere else, Love,” he says before turning his attention back to your phone while you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at the nickname.

It’s quite late by the time you get home, you’ve run into some traffic, but it just meant more time with Harry. You gladly listened to his stories and you are happy you got some alone time with him. Parking up to your driveway you help him unload his bags before locking the car.

“Wanna go to the Christmas market in the morning? Promised Gemma I’d go with her and Michal,” he asks, slowly walking down the driveway towards his home.

“Uh, sure,” you nod smiling. Not that you had any other plans, the holidays are reserved for family and the Styles’ are family.

“Great, I’ll be here at ten. And thanks for the ride,” he smirks waving goodbye and you watch him cross the street before he disappears in his home and you do the same.

“Y/N? Is that you?” your mum calls out when you walk in.

“Were you expecting anyone else?” you ask, hanging your coat before you join her in the living room.

“Not,” she smiles giddily. “Was everything alright at the airport?”

You throw your legs over her lap and she squeezes your ankles playfully.

“Yeah, everything fine.”

“How is Harry?”

“Cheeky and smug, as always,” you huff smirking.

“Can’t wait to see him. I feel like I haven’t seen ‘im in ages.”

“When are they coming over tomorrow?”

“Anne said she’ll come around four to help me cook, the rest I don’t know. Dinner will be done around seven though.”

“I’m pretty sure Gemma and Harry will be here along with Anne,” you snort, knowing well they wouldn’t miss a chance to come over, especially Harry. He has been talking nonstop how he’ll be glued to your hip once he is back home, making up for all the time you’ve spent apart.

“They surely will,” your mum chuckles before you both turn your attention at the telly.

You go to bed way after midnight and finish up the packing you left abruptly when you left to get Harry. Shuffling around in your room you glance out the window and see that the light in Harry’s room is on too. Peeking out you lean against the window’s frame, thinking about the times when the two of you sat in the window, talking on the phone after curfew, keeping your voice down so your parents didn’t wake up, sharing secrets and your silliest thoughts. With Harry, you never felt like you had to keep anything back, he would have never judged you for anything, you could be your true self around him and vice versa.

A tall figure appears at the window and as Harry glances out his window he is quick to see you sitting on the window sill, your head resting against the frame. The two houses are not far away from each other and you see him grinning as he sits at the window as well, pulling out his phone, a moment later yours starts buzzing on the nightstand. You quickly grab it, and go back to the window.

“Creeping on me, eh?” he hums into the phone and you roll your eyes at him.

“Was just admiring the street lights, don’t flatter yourself, your head is getting too big,” you huff, but you can’t push your smirk down.

“Admit it, you were hoping to see me roam around naked, weren’t you?”

“As if I haven’t seen you like that before,” you snort making him laugh too. It’s true, Harry has never been shy to get rid of his clothes and he also doesn’t bother to draw the blinds whenever he is changing. You once saw him butt naked when he was nineteen, and when you told him to close the blinds next time he is changing, he just shrugged with a smug smile.

“’M not ashamed of anything, Love,” he told you and you had to turn away because you were blushing for sure.

“Right, you’re a fan of putting yourself on full display when you’re naked, almost forgot,” you chuckle shaking your head. “Millions of girls have the picture of you, lying naked on their walls.”

“You one of them?” he cheekily asks.

“Nah, doesn’t go well with the vibe of my apartment.”

“Shame. Though I think it would definitely look amazin’ above your bed, Love.”

“Now would it? I don’t know about that.”

“I’ll get you a copy framed,” he smirks and you can see it clear even from the distance. “Y’ know what? I’ll make you an exclusive one. One that nobody else has, how does that sound?”

“I can’t believe you, Styles,” you chuckle shaking your head. “I’m not gonna answer this, just gonna head to bed. You should too.”

“So we’re not sharing any secrets like we used to? Thought you’d have something fo’ me.”

“You know everything, Harry,” you sigh with a soft smile, though your heart skips a beat. He does know everything, except one big, fat, heavy secret you’ve been carrying around for way too long, that will probably stay with you forever.

“Right. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Night, Harry.”

“Good night, Love,” he murmurs and you know he is smiling, thought he steps away from the window as he says goodbye and you do the same before ending the call.

 ***

 “Hey! That’s mine!” you protest as Harry steals another roasted chestnut from your little paper bag, but you can’t stay mad at him when he is smiling at you so sweetly.

“Sorry, tastes better when it’s someone else’s.”

“Sure,” you snort and just let him get as many as he wants. You wouldn’t have eaten it all anyway.

It’s quite cold out in the town, but at least there’s no rain or storm, so the weather didn’t try to ruin your little trip to the Christmas market.

Gemma calls out for Harry to show him something and you just keep wandering between the booths, enjoying the atmosphere quite a lot, you have no idea when was the last time you got to come to the market, though you always loved coming when you were younger.

Finishing up your chestnuts you throw the paper bag into a trash can and turn around to find the rest of your little group, spotting Harry and Gemma deep in discussion next to a booth that offers handmade ceramic mugs. As you walk closer it almost seems like as if they were having a fight, which is just odd, they rarely do that.

“Just get your head out of your arse!” you catch Gemma telling her brother who only groans in frustration before he spots you, a smile plastering across his face.

“Hey, there you are!” he beams.

“Everything alright?” you ask looking at them.

“Sure, just Gemma is being a little nosy, is all,” Harry waves in dismiss. You glance over to Gems, but she is already back in discussion with Michal so you decide to drop it. “You ate all the chestnuts?” Harry asks offended, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Well, it was mine, so of course I ate them!”

“Selfish,” he narrows his eyes at you, but you both know it’s just a joke.

You walk further down in the aisle, occasionally stopping at some of the booth when you spot a place that offers hot chocolate in cute little mugs that you can take home with you if you’d like, or just take it back and get your money back.

“Oh look!” you gasp excitedly and head towards the hot chocolate booth. The old lady smiles brightly at the two of you as you take a look at all the choices. “Oh my god, they have caramel flavored!” you cheer, basically already drooling at the thought of a good, caramel flavored hot chocolate.

“What can I get for the lovely couple?” the lady smiles warmly at the two of you and you freeze at her assumption.

“Oh we—“ you start, but Harry cuts you off.

“A caramel flavored and a plain one, please,” he orders, without even batting an eye about how the lady just called you a couple. You can feel your cheeks heating up at the thought, but you try to calm yourself. He probably just didn’t want to get into explaining that you two are not an item and let her think what she wanted.

The nice lady hands you your mug and you take Harry’s as well as he pays for both of them. You would try to argue with him and pay yours, but you are already used to how stubborn he is and he never lets you split anything, it’s always on him.

“Thank you, have a nice day!” Harry calls out to the lady before the two of you leave. You peek at him handing him his mug, looking for any clue that would give away if this little scene got him just as bothered as it did you, but he looks perfectly fine and relaxed, so you decide not to bring it up. You’re sure he didn’t think much of it.

Your little stroll stretches into the afternoon, the four of you decide to have lunch out there too, then you just opt for a walk in town as Gemma wants to do a quick last minute Christmas shopping, so by the time you get home Anne is already over at yours helping your mum with dinner. Tonight you are all eating at yours, then tomorrow it’s the Styles’ turn to host, this is how you agreed this year.

“Woah, it smells amazing!” you call out walking into the house. The delicious smells fill up the whole place and you hear the two women giggling in the kitchen.

“Hi Honey, how was the market?” your mum greets you, a glass of red wine in her hand and the same goes for Anne.

“Great, we have a new mug,” you say holding up the emptied out hot chocolate mug. Stepping to the sink you wash it quickly and drying off you put it away in one of the cabinets.

You stick around in the kitchen and not so much later Harry comes over, the two of you leave your mums alone and get comfortable in front of the telly.

All channels are filled with holiday movies and you don’t mind, really, you like them all even if you’ve seen them a million times, you still find them funny and cute. Harry feels the same way, so when you settle on Love Actually he doesn’t say a word.

What startles you is that he grabs your ankles and pulls your legs over his lap, a small shriek escaping your mouth since you weren’t expecting him to do that. You’re sitting sideways, your legs are bent at the knee and Harry is kind of hugging them as his eyes are glued to the screen.

You find it rather hard to focus on the movie when Harry’s fingers keep fidgeting on your legs, they keep running up and down, sometimes he lays his hands flat on your knees, there’s no spot he hasn’t touched since you started watching the movie.

About an hour into the film he turns to you and you look at him in question.

“’M in the mood to cuddle,” he announces and starts moving around, not even letting you protest as he basically crawls to your lap, resting his head on your stomach as the two of you lay on the couch.

“Am I now your personal pillow?” you ask chuckling, but you wouldn’t want him to move for anything. Feeling him weigh down on you just feels so warm and simple but amazing.

“The best one,” he mumbles, bringing a hand to your side as you let your fingers comb through his curls.

You keep massaging his scalp and he lets out soft moans when you go over a soft spot, you can’t help but chuckle as he melts under your hands. His fingers start drawing circles on your side and the movie is long forgotten by you, all you can focus on is how great it is to have Harry so close to you. He is known to be a physical person, you are used to hugs and touches, but it seems like he is a little needier now than the usual.

You don’t mind it though, you just try to enjoy the moment, because it can end anytime.

Gemma and Michal come over a little before seven, and while your mums finish up the cooking the four of you set the table. You grab the crystal glasses and start placing them to the table, Harry lending you a hand. Once the table is all set you shuffle into the kitchen to see if there’s anything you can help with, Harry following you behind, placing a hand to the small of your back.

As you stand and wait for you mum to finish up the meals so you can help carry them to the table you feel Harry’s hand wander over to your hip, giving it a squeeze as he stands closer, so his chest is pressed against your back.

“Harry?” you ask a little out of breath.

“Hm?” he innocently hums.

“What’s with you today?” Turning your head to the side your eyes lock with his, but he just shrugs smiling.

“Guess I just missed yeh a lot.”

“You’re weird,” you chuckle shaking your head, but don’t make an effort to push him away. His touch feels way too good to put an end to it and you just want to be selfish a little longer.

His hands leave you when the two of you help to bring the food to the table, and you almost wish they would just return, but you gotta swallow the thought.

The food is amazing, as always. You all sip on some wine, just having a genuinely good time, enjoying that all of you are back at one place, something that rarely happens now that all three of you kids are all grown up.

At one point Harry rests his arm on the back of your chair, no one seems to notice but you. All these little things have been driving you crazy all day and your mind seems to be playing a nasty game with you. There’s no way Harry thinks of these details more than what they are, a friendly gesture towards an old friend of his.

When Gemma is telling a story about some weird guy she met at work Harry reaches up and pushes your hair behind your ear, his finger lingering over your neck a little longer than you would have expected. Turning to face him you give him a questioning look, not sure what to think about his needy and touchy self all of a sudden.

“What?” you mouth him, but he just smiles at you absentmindedly, curling a strand of hair around his finger, playing with it for a moment before letting go of it and going for another lock. You reach up and pull his hand away, feeling yourself heating up from his touch, but when you are about to let go of his hand he grabs yours, lacing your fingers together with yours as he rests them on his thigh.

“Harry…” you breathe out, glancing at the others, relieved to see that they are not paying much attention to the two of you.

“What? Am I not allowed to touch you?” he asks with a smug smirk and you roll your eyes at him.

“As I said, you’re weird,” you mumble under your breath looking down at your now empty plate. Harry gives your hand a squeeze.

“But like, the good kind of weird, yeah?”

“Shut up,” you chuckle shaking your head at him.

You try to tell yourself he is just needy because it’s been so long since you last saw each other. It can’t be more, you push even the smallest thought to the back of your mind, though it surely lingers there throughout the evening.

He helps you with washing the dishes, you stand arm to arm at the sink as you scrub the plates and hand over to him for drying. He gently hums to himself all along, swaying his hips, bumping against yours. At first you resist it, but then you catch the rhythm and start moving along, so your hips meet in the middle before swinging to the opposite side.

“What’s the song?” you ask finishing up the last plate.

“Just something random,” he shrugs smirking over at you. You hand him the last plate, he is still singing, making up gibberish lyrics to his song and once he puts the plate down he throws the kitchen cloth to the counter and easily grabs your waist pulling you against him as he starts swaying with you to his impromptu song. You let out a small shriek at the sudden movement, but eventually melt into his hold. The humming slowly turns into an all too familiar melody as Harry starts singing Sweet Creature into your ear, slow dancing in the kitchen while you hear your mums and Gemma laugh outside somewhere.

Your hands run up his arms and stop behind his neck as you lock your fingers and let him hold you close, his palms are pressed to your waist, fingers gently stroking you through the fabric of your shirt. You take a deep breath and his cologne fills your nose, one of your favorite scents, sometimes you just wish you could spray it on your pillow so it would always smell like him.

“Sweet creature, wherever I go, you bring me home…” he softly sings, leaning back just enough for your eyes to meet. It feels like your heart is about to burst out of your chest, it’s not the first time you feel so intimidated by him, like you could pass out any moment, but this is a little different. As if his eyes were telling you another story, but you can’t completely make up the words.

“Sweet creature, when I run out of road, you bring me home, you’ll bring me home.” He finishes the song, hums the closing melody and you watch him in complete awe. Your lips part when you catch his gaze move down to them and you swear you see him leaning closer, as if he is about to kiss you. Your breath gets caught in your throat, he is so close, just a few more inches and you’d taste those perfect lips of his, the ones you’ve been dreaming about for way too long.

It almost happens, it seems, but just when that last push is about to set in Gemma waltz into the kitchen and you step back faster than light, pushing him away even though the sudden lack of his touch is more painful than you were expecting.

“You guys—Oh, what’s up?” she asks stopping at the door and you feel yourself getting redder with each passing moment, the heat crawling up your neck, ears cheeks, right to the top of your head. What were you thinking? You let yourself believe Harry would ever kiss you, this whole scene was nothing more than just a friendly moment the two of you were sharing.

“I’m—sorry,” you breathe out making your way out of the kitchen, right up to your room to have some well needed space.

“Way to ruin everything,” Harry snickers at his sister.

“You joking? You wanted to kiss her in her mum’s kitchen?” Gemma snaps at him in disbelief.

“We were having a moment,” he mumbles rubbing his face with his hands. “Up until you stomped in with your big mouth.”

“Well, if you were havin’ a moment, just make it happen again.”

“As if it’s that easy, Gemma!” he scoffs throwing his hands in the air.

“Man up and tell her how you feel, don’t have to complicate it too much,” she shrugs before walking out and leaving her brother alone. Harry growls in frustration, the gears in his head turning wildly as he is trying to figure out how to come clear to you about his feelings.

 Meanwhile, up in your room you get out your laptop and busy yourself with checking up on messages and emails you’ve been ignoring, hoping that the uneasy feeling in your chest will ease very soon. Your hands were shaking when you locked yourself up in your room, but as you get focused on other tasks you slowly gain your balance back.

You kind of even forget that the Styles’ were over, you only realize that you abruptly pulled yourself out of the evening when there’s a soft knock on your door.

“Come on in!” you call out and a moment later Harry’s head pops in, eyes softly falling on your sitting figure on the bed. “Hey,” you smile at him faintly.

“Hey. Thought you were sleepin’s or summat.” Coming inside he closes the door behind him then sits on your plush rug in the middle of the room.

“Just… sorted some work related things out,” you sigh.

“Working during the holidays? Tha’s not healthy.”

“I know, I’m done,” you smile shutting the laptop down and putting it aside. “Sorry I disappeared, I just—“

“No worries,” Harry shakes his head. “Mum and Gems went home, they thought you were sleeping too, tha’s why they didn’t say goodbye.”

“Oh, alright.”

“But I thought we could have a sleepover,” he peeks at you with a boyish smile.

“What, like we did in middle school?” you chuckle.

“Yea, thought it would be fun.”

“Well, I don’t think my bed would fit us comfortably and we don’t have the mattress anymore that you used to sleep on,” you tell him looking around.

“Nonsense, I’m not tha’ big,” he insists hopping to his feet and throwing himself on the bed, ignoring that you’re already there. His body takes up more than half on the bed , limbs wrapping around you as he brings you down to the mattress next to him, you can’t help the laugh that leaves your lips.

“You’re like a gigantic baby, Harry!” you laugh as he keeps you down on the bed with his arm.

“It’s perfectly fine for two people,” he mumbles with a smirk, closing his eyes as his head sinks into your pillow.

“Do you ever get no as an answer?” you ask looking at him in awe. You can never get used to seeing him so up close, like not many get to.

“No,” he huffs in satisfaction, his arm bringing you closer to him and you just giggle at him.

“I’m not sleeping just yet, gotta have a shower first.”

“Do what you want, I’ll be here,” he mumbles but you snort at him.

“You’re not sleeping in my bed without having a shower,” you tell him before you grab your pajamas and head to the bathroom.

You have a quick shower and get done with all your evening business. Returning to your room you find Harry sitting on the floor, his back against the side of the bed as he is scrolling through his phone.

“Does mum know you’re staying over?” you ask him as you throw your used clothes into the hamper, moving around the room while feeling his eyes on you.

“Yeah. ‘S all good.”

“You need a towel?”

“Yes please,” he says pushing himself up from the floor.

“Clothes?” you ask with an arched brow. He just grins at you and it’s enough of an answer. “Here,” you give him the shirt and sweats he has left at yours quite some time ago, along with a clean towel.

“Thanks,” he smirks before leaving to occupy the bathroom.

He doesn’t take long in there, you’re lying in bed already when he returns, smelling like your shower gel, strawberry and melon.

He throws his clothes to the chair in the corner and then lies beside you on the bed. You scoot over to the wall to give him space, but he is quick to bring you closer to him once he has made himself comfortable. You lay your head on his shoulder as you are both scrolling through your phones.

When you had enough, you throw yours to the nightstand, and stay cuddled up to his side.

“Do you remember the last time I slept here?” he asks tossing his phone to the nightstand and bringing his arms around you.

“Mm, was it at my twentieth birthday?”

“Yeah. You were so wasted,” he chuckles and you smirk to yourself

“But you took good care of me.”

“I did. You were so cute, rambling about how much you love me when I took you home from the pub.”

You bite into your bottom lip. You still remember that night vividly. Your birthday party had gone a little wild and you had gotten drunker than you intended to. Luckily, he was there to bring your home and he stayed in the bathroom with you as you threw up everything you ate and drank that evening. Then he made you take a shower, got you fresh clothes out and helped you get into bed. He slept next to you that night, holding you in his arms, gently caressing your back and upper arm as you fell into your drunken slumber. In the morning you told yourself he just did what any other friend would do, helping you out when you were clearly knocked out, but he made you breakfast in the morning since your mum was working all night and morning and he stayed over later the afternoon to make sure you were alright.

What you told him in your drunken state about loving him, it wasn’t just your friendly side, it was your drunken self coming clear to him, telling him that you are in love with him, but he didn’t take it seriously and you were too ashamed and awkward to even bring it up to him after that, so it was all forgotten very soon.

Following that you planned on telling him how you feel, several times. You even wrote a little speech you planned to give him when the time comes, but you couldn’t do it. The fear of losing him if he doesn’t feel the same was stronger than you expected and every time you had the chance to come clear, you chickened out. The thought of losing him as a friend is way worse than having to push your feelings down... forever. You just can’t imagine your life without Harry in it and you can’t risk losing him.

The two of you talk for quite a while, laughing about the good old times, until you both fall asleep. Sometime in the middle of the night you wake up and feel Harry wrapped around you, his head lying on your chest as he is snoring softly. He truly is like a big baby, an arm thrown over your stomach, his legs tangled with yours. Good Lord, how amazing it feels to have him so close to you!

Reaching up you tangle your fingers through his hair gently so he doesn’t wake up, his soft curls glide between your fingers easily and lifting your head you kiss the top of his head before letting yourself drift back to sleep.

When you open your eyes the next time the situation is the opposite, you are the one cuddled up to Harry’s side who is scrolling through his phone with one hand, keeping the other one on your arm.

“Mornin’, sleepy head,” he chuckles softly when he sees you awake.

“Mmm, what time is it?” you ask letting your head rest on his chest a little longer.

“Quarter to nine. You can sleep a little more if you want, it’s not that late.”

“No, I promised mum I’d help her wrap gifts,” you sigh rolling over to your stomach as you push yourself up to your elbows to look at him. “Love the double chin you got going there,” you tease him sleepily and he just smirks.

“Yea? Quite cute, right? Worked a lot on it,” he jokes running his finger over it before letting out a chuckle. “Ready for our battle today?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. You are going down this year, Styles,” you tell him pushing yourself up into a sitting position. Harry only pushes himself further on the bed enough to rest his head against the headboard.

“Oh really? I wouldn’t be that sure about tha’,” he warns you, but you are feeling pretty confident about your performance this year. There’s no way he can top it.

“We’ll see. Alright, I need a coffee. Want something for breakfast?” you ask him crawling out of the bed.

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

Your mum is already in the kitchen, sipping on her morning coffee while reading the paper. She doesn’t find it even a bit weird that Harry spent the night at yours, it’s been quite the usual for you. Harry helps you make eggs and bacon and the three of you eat together, having a lovely time and you genuinely feel like it’s just like in the good old times when you were still living home and Harry wasn’t Harry Styles, but the boy from across the street.

He goes home after breakfast to help his own mum with the cooking for tonight’s dinner and you don’t do much for the rest of the day, just spend time with your mum, watch movies and relax. It’s nice to unwind after such a busy year behind you.

Not long before five you go to take a shower and get ready to head over to the Styles’ and you pack everything you’ll need for the evening: gifts, ugly sweater, accessories. Harry is going down this year for sure.

It’s a little past six when you and your mum walk across the street, Anne’s Christmas lights are putting the little town house into the spirit for sure. You don’t even ring the bell, just walk straight in, like you always do. The Christmas tree stands tall in their living room and the table is already nicely set. Gemma and Michal are snuggled up on the couch while Harry is helping Anne in the kitchen with the finishing touches.

“I’m rooting for you this year,” Gemma winks at you when you set down your bag in the corner that has everything you’ll need for your performance.

“He’s gonna lose this round,” you smirk proudly, very sure in yourself.

Harry greets you with a bright smile and a tight hug when he walks into the living room, as if you didn’t just see each other a few hours earlier.

When the food is ready you all sit down to eat, and though you’re trying your best to focus on the conversation, you’re getting excited about tonight’s karaoke battle.

“Anxious much?” Harry asks you quietly.

“Why are you asking?”

He doesn’t answer, just places a hand to your thigh stopping it from shaking, making you realize you’ve been probably bouncing it all along. He smirks at you as you just roll your eyes at him.

“’S okay, you can handle one more year of losing,” he teases you and you give him an arched eyebrow.

“Don’t be so full of yourself, Harry,” you warn him, but he just squeezes your thigh again before bringing his hands back up to the table, leaving you a little breathless with his touch.

You all help clean up the table after dinner and when it’s done, you gather in the living room to open gifts.

When Harry’s career launched, the first few years you felt anxious about gifting him, because you felt like you couldn’t give him enough. He had all the money and bought everything he needed for himself, there wasn’t much you could give him. But when one time, you admitted to him this struggle of yours he assured you that it doesn’t matter what you give him, it’ll always be precious to him.

“You thought about me, you took the time to buy something for me, and that’s more than enough, Y/N,” he told you and though it took you time, but you got used to it. Especially when you saw the same excitement in his eyes every time you gifted something to him, you slowly but surely realized he wasn’t expecting a Gucci suit, but a thoughtful gesture.

Gathering in the living room you open the presents one by one and just as always, everyone was quite creative with the gifts. You can’t help but still feel a little anxious when Harry grabs his gift from you. Giving you an excited look he unties the little bow on the top and tears the wrapping paper off.

“Y/N!” he breathes out, eyes softening as he pulls the knitted cardigan out of the box.

“I always saw you wearing all sorts of cardigans and so I finally had a reason to learn how to knit, so I thought I would make one for you,” you ramble as he holds up the baby blue cardigan that has little daisies all over the front. It took you an entire week to just make the daisies, you worked on the whole cardigan for more than two months, usually in the middle of the night, staying up until unholy hours to finish in time.

But Harry’s smile is worth it all, he is beaming, clearly so in love with what you made him, so you breathe out relieved. He then puts it aside and wraps his arms around you pulling you into the tightest hug.

“Thank you, I love it so much,” he mumbles and kisses your temple and you breathe in his sweet scent, burying yourself in his embrace, hugging his waist.

When you part, Harry reaches for a box from under the tree and hands it to you, a nervous smile tugging on his lips. You can tell he wrapped the gift himself, the silver wrapping paper is a little uneven, but the huge rainbow colored bow on the top is the perfect touch that makes it like a piece of him.

You carefully tear the paper off, peeking inside you just see a plain box that doesn’t give much away. Glancing up at Harry you see how he is anxiously biting his bottom lip, even though you’d be happy with a gift as small as a candle. It’s the thought that counts.

“I-I wasn’t sure if this was the one you mentioned to me, so I hope it’s gonna be alright,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on your hands as they open the box, while you try to think back what you have told him about that caught his attention, but you just can’t recall what you wanted to get so badly you told Harry about it.

As you open the box you don’t process what it is immediately, the plastic wrapper making it hard to figure it out, but when you carefully pull out the object, you gasp in surprise.

“Harry!” you breathe out as you pull off the plastic of the old, vintage polaroid camera. It’s not one of these new types you can buy in stores easily, this is a classic, must have quite a history behind it.

Now you vaguely remember talking about longing for an oldschool, vintage camera, but it was months ago and you’ve forgotten about the whole thing since these devices cost a fortune because there aren’t many left from them. But now there’s one in your hands, because Harry not only listened to you, but he remembered and went out of his way to find you one in amazing condition.

“This must have cost a fortune!” you huff, your heart pounding in your chest, though you already know it doesn’t matter to him.

“This face is worth every penny,” he smiles at you softly before you throw yourself at him for another round of hugging. This man surely knows how to have you wrapped around his fingers.

The two of you sit on the floor as you figure out how to make the camera work, Harry bought everything needed, so you have a few packs of films as well. When it’s all done you bring it up to your face and aim it at Harry. It takes him a moment to realize that you’re about to snap your first photo and he tries to snatch the camera away, but it’s too late, the flash goes off and the device pushes out the undeveloped picture.

“You wasted your first snap on me?” he protests rubbing his eyes after the flash blinded him for a little.

“It’s not a waste,” you tell him as you patiently wait for the picture to finally appear.

Slowly, the colors start to show and in a couple of minutes Harry’s face appears, his hand reaching in the direction of the camera, looking out of focus, only his face appearing clearly. He looks so delicate, his eyes dazzling as a soft smile plays on his lips. This moment now will live forever not just in your mind, but on this photo.

 Harry goes out with his karaoke performance this year for sure and you’d be actually anxious about him winning if only you didn’t have the absolutely best performance right in your pocket.

His sweater this year features some really ugly looking penguins and a horroristic reindeer on the back, it’s really ugly and you can’t even imagine who thought it would be fine to make it and then sell it. His choice of music is also excellent, he has a great eye for songs you’d never imagine him perform and then shock everyone with it. This year, he chose Rude Boy by none other than Rihanna, and it’s fantastic, no one can make it through the song without crying. Harry makes sure to put on his best show, even dancing and twerking unapologetically, trying everything to win the battle and you are amazed by his effort. Above all the fun and jokes, he nails the song, that’s undeniable. It always baffles you how he can just slay any and all genres, even the ones that stand a million miles away from his style.

When the song is over, you all cheer for him, because he truly deserves it. He grins down at you in victory, but you just give him a challenging smirk.

“You can just give up now, if you want,” he teases you as you stand up from the couch and the two of you trade places.

“Oh, I think you should be the one to worry about losing,” you warn him grabbing your bag. Stepping to Gemma you whisper into her ear, instructing her to put on your song when you call out from the bathroom, since you are planning on do a grandiose entrance. When she hears what song you’ll be singing she gasps.

“Oh my fucking God, no way!” he looks at your with wide eyes.

“What? What is it?” Harry asks, dying to know what you just told his sister, but you shake your head at him.

“Patience,” you tell him before locking yourself up in the bathroom.

This year, you didn’t find the sweater, the sweater found you. On one of your thrift tours, you were digging up a huge pile of clothes when you came right across it and you knew what you needed to do.

Putting on the sweater you fix up your hair quickly before putting on your party glasses, the one that lights up if you switch it on. You take one last look at yourself in the mirror and smirk at your reflection knowing well you’ll have everyone dead when you walk out.

“Gemma! You can start it!” you call out with your hand on the doorknob, waiting to hear the music. Gemma quickly starts in and you haven’t even stepped out, you can hear a round of gasps.

Best Song Ever blasts through the speakers and you walk out trying your best to imitate a younger version of Harry, wearing the absolute ugliest Christmas sweater ever, that has the faces of One Direction all over it, filling up every inch of the fabric, and all of them have poorly photoshopped Santa hats on, it’s just literal trash and ridiculously perfect for the battle.

You grab the mic and start singing as everyone screams in the room. You jump, sing and even do the dance moves the boys do in the original music video, and when you look at Harry you see him staring at you in disbelief and total defeat. Everyone knows you won, nothing can top this performance ever and you could burst from the sweet feeling of victory.

By the end of the song everyone is up on their feet dancing and singing with you, a mini party forming in the middle of the living room and you all scream the last lines as the song comes to its end.

“I think we don’t even need to vote this time,” you say when the music stops, everyone screaming in agreement while Harry stares down at you, trying to hide his growing smirk.

“Where did you even find this?” he asks chuckling as he takes a better look at the sweater.

“At a thrift store, it called out my name, knew it’d be perfect.”

“It really is ugly, if I’m being honest,” he sighs, his eyes meeting yours again. “And the song… I accept defeat, you earned this victory, Y/N,” he tells you bowing and admitting your victory.

 Later that night everyone is so keen on watching Holiday, you agree to stay even though you feel your eyelids heavily weighing down, threatening to close with each passing moment. You let your head rest on Harry’s shoulder and he presses his cheek against the crown of your head.

It’s not a surprise you fall asleep halfway into the movie, but what you weren’t expecting is to wake up and find yourself not on the couch anymore, but in Harry’s bed. It’s dark, only the moon is shining through his windows and as you turn to the right you see that he is sleeping peacefully next to you on his back, one arm spread next to him, hand hanging from the edge, the other one resting on his stomach, rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

Squinting your eyes you look at the digital clock on his dresser, it reads 3:23 am so you’ve been asleep for quite a few hours now. You don’t even remember him bringing you up here, but you’re definitely not mad that he didn’t bring you home, just up to his room.

Rolling to your side you give yourself a moment to adorn his beauty without fearing he would catch your wandering eyes. Everything seems so perfect about him, the line of his nose, his cupid’s bow that delicately rolls into her lips. The crease between his eyebrows, his soft skin on his cheeks, down his neck that runs into his broad shoulders and inked, strong arms. You truly think there’s no man that could compare to him and you are lucky enough to live your life so close to him, be able to touch him, hear his voice whenever you miss him, see his smile and share a connection with him.

It’s so silly, but you think of him as your personal ray of sunshine in your life. Just the smallest things about him can brighten your worst day, he’ll always have a special place in your heart, no matter where life takes the two of you.

Watching him sleeping you allow yourself to break free from your doubts and fears and scooting closer you shyly curl up to his side, your head resting on his shoulder, but you can’t even make yourself comfortable before you feel him moving under you.

Sucking on your breath you think he’ll push you away, not wanting you so close, but instead, he pulls his arm from under you, curling around your frame as he pulls you tight to him, almost making you lie on top of him. Your whole body is pressed against him and you mingle a leg between his long ones under the soft sheets. You let out a long huff at the warm touch of his body against your skin, completely lost in him.

“You alright?” he mumbles in his sleep laced voice, his eyes remain closed.

“Yeah. Is this okay?” you nervously ask as you lay your hand flat on his stomach. He brings his hand that was hanging from the bed on his other side and covers yours, as he squeezes you tight to his side.

“’M all yours,” he breathes out, his words sending a shiver down your spine. You’re sure he didn’t mean it like that, but it warmed your heart to hear it from him and you let your mind play with the thought that there was more behind his words than a friendly manner.

Nuzzling your head into his chest you close your eyes and listening to his steady heartbeat you let yourself fall back asleep.

 Your morning is filled with coffee, pancakes, laughter and great company. Harry doesn’t let you leave without having breakfast with them, so you sit with the Styles family and laugh about the craziest stories from your teenage years.

“Remember when we tried to run away?” Harry grins at you, his red mug that had white polka dots all over it in his hands as he eyes you.

“Oh, how could I forget that?” you huff and Gemma turns to you with surprise in her eyes.

“Wait, I didn’t know about that!”

“Because we didn’t get too far,” Harry laughs. “We were, what, like fifteen?”

“Yeah, it was a few weeks after my fifteenth birthday,” you nod smiling.

“I had a fight with mum about God knows what, then stormed over to Y/N’s and talked her into running away. So we packed our backpacks and left.”

“Where did you go?” Michal asks with an amused grin as he listens to the story.

“We didn’t want to go into town, running into anyone we know, so we thought we would just go straight out to the meadow that’s there,” Harry says gesturing towards the window. The edge of the town is not so war, and a huge meadow lies there, a little stream running across it. “We walked for quite long, but then it started to get dark and we had nowhere to go, so we just ended up coming back home. No one even noticed we were gone, they thought we just went out to bike or something,” he finishes laughing.

“You knew about this?” Gemma asks Anne.

“Yeah, he came clear the next day, thinking he would piss me off with it, but I didn’t care, he came back for dinner, so it was alright,” Anne explains laughing.

It’s been so long since it happened, but I still remember it vividly, only that it was a more dramatic memory back then, now I can only laugh at it.

“We should go for a walk today,” Harry prompts to you.

“Wanna run away again?” you tease him.

“Always,” he chuckles.

You help cleaning up and agree with Harry to meet outside in an hour to take a walk to the meadow. Going home you take a shower and wash the dishes your mum left in the sink when she left for her morning shift. You put on a pair of boyfriend jeans, a warm sweater and your jacket with your trusty boots and you walk out the house right when Harry steps out as well. He grins in your way as the two of you meet in the middle of the street. He holds his arm out for you.

“M’ lady?” he smirks as you link your arm with his and the two of you head out for your little walk. It’s a gloomy day, might rain later as well, but it’s dry so far, so you’re just hoping to get home before it starts raining. Your runaway attempt wasn’t the only time the two of you came out here, it was kind of your place when you felt like having a break from everyone else. You biked out here, brought your favorite snacks and just ran around, enjoying the stillness.

However it also holds a bitter memory as well.

A little further down among the trees happened Harry’s first kiss and you witnessed it, feeling your heart break to a million pieces when you saw him lock lips with someone who wasn’t you.

Debby Hamilton was a friend of yours in sixth grade, you’d say, your only friend beside Harry and the three of you often hung out together around that time. Debby was a delight, you always desired to be more like her, boys liked her and she knew it damn well, but it didn’t make her cocky and egoistic. You always thought Harry had a crush on her, why would have he? They kind of looked cute together.

It was a Friday afternoon and Harry asked if you wanted to come out and listen to his new cassette he got for his old Walkman he refused to get rid of as technology was evolving. You figured he’d want Debby there as well so you invited her along, but didn’t tell Harry. He never made a move on Debby and you thought he was just looking for the right time.

That afternoon, you were supposed to meet them out there at five, but you didn’t leave until half past five and it takes about twenty minutes to get out there. Though you gave them the alone time technically, it still startled you when you found them under one of the oak trees, Debby leaning her back against the tree as Harry stood in front of her. She was smiling up at him sweetly, saying something to him and you were just about to call out for them and apologize for being late when Harry ducked his head and kissed Debby right in front of your eyes.

That was your first and probably worst heartbreak and you were only twelve. You felt betrayed, hopeless and naïve to think Harry would ever have a thing for you when there were girls like Debby. You left without letting them know you were there. When Harry asked you later why you didn’t come you told him you felt sick to your stomach, which wasn’t a total lie, you had quite the nausea after seeing Harry with Debby, but he didn’t have to know all the details.

He later told you about kissing Debby and you pretended like you didn’t know about it. However they never dated and not long after their kiss Debby drifted away from the two of you. Not that you minded, you had a bitter feeling every time you had to look at her after that, jealousy raging in your chest knowing that she got Harry’s first kiss.

He didn’t bring it up after and you weren’t keen on talking about it, but you still know which tree they were standing under and now as you near the area you see that it still stands tall near the tiny stream.

Peeking up at Harry you see that his eyes are focused on the same tree, but then he catches you looking.

“Memories?” you innocently ask, feeling your chest tightening. You don’t even know why you asked. It’s been over a decade since that kiss, you are both adults, but you still can’t help the sadness that washes over you at just the thought, why would you want to get him talk about it now?

“’S just… that’s the tree I kissed Debby when I was twelve,” he mumbles with a shrug. Biting into your bottom lip you look at the old oak tree nodding your head and before you could stop yourself, you speak up.

“I know.”

“What? How would you? I never told you,” Harry asks stopping, a puzzled look pulling on his face.

“Well I… It doesn’t matter,” you sigh, regretting ever opening your mouth.

“It does. Tell me!” he pleads standing in front of you.

“I know it, because… I was here.”

“You what?”

“I came, I was just very late. And when I arrived you two were standing there and I saw you kiss. I thought I shouldn’t interrupt whatever was happening so I went home and let you two be,” you explain, changing it up a little bit.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why is it important that I saw it? It doesn’t change anything, right?” you ask with a smile that you intended to look innocent, but deep down it’s filled with pain.

Harry opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but then remains silent and you are done talking about it, so you just quietly keep walking, Harry catching up with you a few moments later.

It’s awfully quiet after your revelation, it seems like Harry is deep in his thoughts and though you’re dying to know what’s occupying his bright thoughts, you’re kind of afraid you’d hear something you didn’t want to.

The two of you soon head back home and slowly, but you forget about the whole Debby thing. Harry starts talking again, but he looks a little keyed up still when you reach your street.

“Wanna come over later?” you ask standing on the pavement in front of your house, it’s just an innocent question. Harry nods his head.

“Sure. Is your mum working?” he asks glancing at the house, though he knows she is, the car is not on the driveway.

“Yeah. She’ll be home around six.”

He nods again and you want to ask if he is alright, but you decide not to. You share a quick hug before he heads over to his home and you do the same. The house waits for you in silence and when the door clicks behind you, it weighs down on you heavier than you were expecting. You hang your jacket, kick your boots off and throw yourself to the couch, covering your eyes with your arm as you huff out in frustration. You feel silly for getting upset about such a small thing even after so much time, but you just can’t help it.

You barely realize the sound of the front door opening, taking your arm off your eyes you see Harry walk in, eyebrows furrowed, a worried look on his handsome face.

“Harry—“ “I was waiting for you that day,” he simply says as you sit up with wide eyes, confused about what he is really talking about.

“What?”

“That day, we agreed to meet out there to listen to my new Stevie Wonder cassette, but you didn’t show up, Debby did even though I didn’t invite her out there.”

“Well, I did, thought you wanted her there too,” you explain, startled by the situation.

“I would have invited her if I wanted her to be there, but I wanted to be with you. Only you.”

“I-I’m sorry?” you breathe out, not seeing where he is going with it.

“Y/N, you don’t understand,” he huffs and he is right. You don’t. “I wanted to meet you, but you never came, or at least I thought. Then Debby showed up, I was frustrated that you weren’t there and she was being all nice, telling me how cute I looked when I was worried and it all just happened so fast and… I didn’t even want to kiss her.” He looks properly upset telling you the story and he takes a deep breath before his eyes meet yours with a hard stare. “I wanted to be with you,” he repeats.

“Harry, I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

He shakes his hair, not even letting you finish, because he knows what you wanted to say and that you still don’t understand the meaning behind his words.

“Y/N, I wanted to kiss you,” he then finally says and you suck on your breath as he continues. “Well, not right then and there, but I’ve been meaning to kiss you, I just didn’t know when. I thought that if we have a moment that afternoon I’d do it, but you never came and I was mad and disappointed. I hated myself for kissing Debby, because I didn’t really want to, it just… happened. I wanted to tell you, and I intended to do it when I told you we kissed, but you acted so happy, I figured you didn’t feel the same way about me as I did for you. So I didn’t tell you the rest, but…” He sighs in defeat, looking for words, but he ran out.

“Why are you telling this to me now?” you ask a little out of breath, your head feeling heavy at the new information you just heard.

“Why didn’t you tell me you saw us and why did you go home without a word?” he asks ignoring your question.

“I… don’t—“

“Don’t try to lie.”

Gulping hard you lick your dried lips as you stare back at him.

“Because I was… jealous.” Your voice comes out only as a whisper. Harry’s lips part as he takes two steps closer to you.

“You had feelings for me?” he asks and you just nod your head, not trusting yourself with your voice. “Do you still have feelings for me?”

“I do,” you whisper your answer and Harry lets out a sharp breath as he leaps across the room in your way. You jump to your feet, thinking that he’ll lash out on your for keeping it a secret and you open your mouth to explain yourself, but you never get to speak up because as Harry reaches you, one hand snaps to the back of your neck, the other one to your waist, yanking you against him as his lips crash to yours.

You gasp in surprise, but it doesn’t take long to kiss him back, your numb mind blindly reacting to his sudden action. Your hands snake up to the back of his neck as you pull him closer, returning his hungry kisses. His soft lips feel so smooth and warm against yours and when his tongue runs along your bottom lip you whimper letting your tongues meet in the middle.

He is intoxicating and it doesn’t help that your adrenaline level is up in the sky, you’ve fantasized about it way too many times, and now that it’s happening your body is burning in flames. He kisses you all over and over again, his body pressing against yours hard and when he even leans in making you lean back, you lose balance and the two of you fall to the couch, both of you gasping as you are forced to part your lips.

“Fuck,” you chuckle as Harry is basically lying on you, holding himself up on his arms, but you feel him everywhere.

“’M sorry, I got a little carried away, but I’ve been dying to do this since forever,” he admits chuckling as he lifts his head and looks down at you with those bright green eyes of his.

“Really?” you breathe out, only slowly processing what’s really just happened.

“Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since I first saw you hiding behind your mum.”

“Idiot, you were just a kid, you weren’t in love,” you chuckle, running up your hands to the back of his neck, your fingers playing with the soft curls. He smirks and nuzzles his nose against yours.

“Oh, I was, I just didn’t know it yet.” Leaning down he pecks your lips softly. “I’ve been meaning to tell you so many times, but I didn’t want it to ruin our friendship. Though I was growing impatient these last few years.”

“Yeah?” you chuckle.

“You can’t imagine,” he huffs shaking his head. I almost kissed you the other day in the kitchen, but Gemma completely ruined the moment.”

“I’m sorry I ran away, I was just—“ “No need to apologize. I guess it all played out well after all, right?” he smirks and you can’t help but chuckle.

“I guess,” you breathe out and the smile slowly fades from your lips. “And now what?” you ask quietly, staring up at him.

“Now… We’ll try to make things work. Test the waters. I’m very serious about this, Y/N,” he tells you. “I’ve been waiting for this my whole life so I’m not gonna let go of you now.”

“You have no idea how happy this is making me,” you choke out feeling the tears forming in your eyes.

“Oh Love, please don’t cry,” he begs and leaning down he kisses your tears away. “I’m right here, with you. Sorry it took me so long you get here, but I’m here now.”

“I know,” you huff blinking away the tears as you pull him down and press your lips to his. “I love you, Harry,” you whisper against his perfect lips. You feel him exhale sharply as he keeps kissing you before he lifts his head so your eyes meet again.

“I’ve always loved you.”

 Thank you for reading, let me know what you thought about it!

[girls4keigo]

A Bird Whisperer’s Guide to Fighting Villains and Falling in Love | Hawks x Hero!Reader

Summary: Hawks needs help to defeat an upcoming hero attack in Tokyo. What better hero to ask than the one he’s been crushing on for months

Warnings: F!Reader, Hero!Reader, Fluff, Cursing

Reader plays hard to get. Reader has a nature quirk and can control natural elements and talk to animals. Reader is a popular hero

a/n: hi! this is my first post i hope you all enjoy! :)

————

You sighed, trying to keep your composure while talking to a bunch of big name heroes. The fundraiser events that your agency made you go to were unbearable. Standing around for hours listening to the most mundane heroes try to impress you with their line of work. But hey, if it helps boost approval ratings I guess it’s not that bad.

For the past year you’ve slowly been climbing the ranks of the hero world. With a powerful quirk and unique fighting styles it was hard to go unnoticed. By now you were familiar with how the industry treated female heroes. It seemed as if the general public cared about anything but your hero duties.

It was all love, relationships, “Who are you dating?”, “What’s your skincare routine?”

You honestly didn’t expect any different but geez, it sure did piss you off. And now that you were in the top 3, you weren’t expecting any of it to die down. Might as well just get used to it.

You continued to chat when suddenly your ear twitched as you sensed a certain birdie approaching.

Oh God.

“Hey. Mind if I steal ya away for a little?” Hawks’ signature smirk appeared on his face as he approached you.

Hawks seemed to really be latching onto you for quite some time, well since the new hero rankings were announced. You were on your way to surpassing the number 2 hero and had gained a lot of notoriety in the past couple of months. 

He was clingy for sure, always play flirting, inviting you to lunch, showing up at your agency unannounced. It was obvious that he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. You’d be surprised if he admitted to actually having feelings for you. Well, not that you cared anyways. Your job was to save civilians, defeat villains, and do things that any other normal hero would. Love was simply not on your agenda.

Holding back a heavy sigh, you complied and stepped off to the side with Hawks.

He seemed delighted by your decision, using his feathers to fetch you a glass of champagne off of one of the caterer’s trays as you two walked over to the bar area.

“So your agency makes you come to these lame things too, huh?”

You didn’t answer, not very interested in the direction that the conversation was going in.

“You look nice.” He bit his lower lip, dragging his eyes vertically across your figure.

“Thank you.” You replied, taking a sip of your champagne.

After you both had made your way over to the bar he instructed his order to the bartender, asking you if you wanted anything and keeping the same dumb smirk on his face when you denied.

“Rarely ever see you in a color other than green. I mean, I guess it’s your entire thing but I really dig this red look you’ve got goin’ on” He mused, as he watched the bartender carefully make his drink.

He wasn’t lying. He’s been eyeing you since you walked in, you look good.

“What do you want, Hawks?” You asked, visibly annoyed.

“Damn.” He chuckled, “Small talk isn’t your thing, noted.”

You side-eyed him, getting impatient with his overly relaxed demeanor.

Catching the hint, he got straight to the point. “There’s some trouble going on in Tokyo.”

Now you were intrigued. You took another sip of your champagne, “Petty villain attacks like always, isn’t it?”

You turned towards him, he got a good look at your face before he answered.

Fucking pretty, he thought to himself.

“That’s what I thought at first but it’s getting harder to believe that as I do more digging.” He looks around before inching closer to you, trying to keep his volume to a minimum. “The League is planning something big next week. The ‘Rain of Terror’, they’re callin’ it. They’re trying to ease the amount of big attacks in the city to let our gaurds down. And frankly, I think it’s working.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “How do you know all of this?”

“I’ve got connections,” Was all he said, with a shrug.

Ok, whatever. You’ll confront him about that later. “And this ‘Rain of Terror…’ what does it entail?”

“Bombs.”

“Shit,” You muttered.

“Big ones. Huge ones, actually. I don’t know how the fuckers did it but they found a way to make these huge, bioengineered clouds that ‘rain’ bombs.”

You grew uneasy. Raining bombs? Over the entirety of Tokyo? The amount of destruction it would do to the earth, to civilians, made you panic. Hawks sensed your uneasiness but continued anyways, “I want us to team up. Your quirk would be useful with the entire controlling nature n’ weather thing.”

He loosened up from his serious expression, talking a bit louder and showing a teethy smile, “Plus I think we’d make a pretty good team. I’ve already got a plan so we’ll meet up at yours tomorrow.”

“As in my house? Why not anywhere else?” You questioned.

“Well,” He grabbed his drink and used his free hand to rub the back of his heck, “This isn’t really the typa thing we can talk about in public. Mass hysteria, panic, that type of thing. And my living situation is pretty…complicated right now.”

You felt a small tap on your shoulder, followed by the voice of your high school aged sidekick. You turned to the younger hero. “Uh..Y/N? It’s time to go. I gotta be back by 11.”

You sighed before turning back to Hawks.

“Kids and their curfews, right?” He commented.

“Fine. I’ll have my agency send you my address. Don’t come during the day.” That was the last thing you said before finishing your drink all in one quick sip and making your way to the exit. You could feel his eyes on your backside until you left the venue. And the singular scarlet feather rushing in front of you to open the car door for you was really the cherry on top.

You rolled your eyes.

“Woah.” Your sidekick mused, “He seems to really like you. You should give him a chance, he’s hot.”

You giggled at her comment, “He doesn’t really like me, y’know? He flirts with every female hero.”

—

You heard a slight tap on the window leading up to your balcony. You already sensed him flying towards you when he was about a mile away, but your bedroom? Reluctantly you walked over and opened the sliding door.

“Never heard of a front door?”

“Well that’s no fun, is it?” He said, displaying his signature smirk. You looked cute out of your hero clothes. Hair tied up and messy, and in big comfy clothes.

Adorable, he thought to himself. He walked in as if it was his own befroom, slipping off his shoes, gloves and jacket and placing them in the corner of your room.

“Make yourself comfortable I guess.” You deadpanned at him, “And we’re still going downstairs anyways.” He shrugged.

He couldn’t help but be taken aback by the layout of your room. There were plants in almost every corner, on every shelf. Vines growing on your walls, half read books strewn across your bedside table and dresser, your pet birds of all different shaped and sizes flew freely around your room, chirping every once in a while. “So you’re a bird whisperer, huh?” He said, looking around.

“I’m an animal whisperer.” You said, “That’s kind of like my entire thing.”

He let out a hearty laugh before making his way out of your room.

“Tea?” You asked, heading towards the kitchen as the winged hero made himself comfortable on your couch.

“Sure.” He picked up your remote with one his feathers, flicking through the channels.

He turned his attention to you a couple moments later as you took a seat across from him at your coffee table, setting down two mugs of green tea.

He explained his plan carefully, paying close attention to all details and pausing for any questions you might have. You had to admit, as much as an annoying asshole this guy could be, he knew what he was doing. You could tell he plans his strategies very carefully, as much as he likes to come off as lazy and laid back to the general public. He was a damn good hero. And you hated admitting it but he was right, utlizing his speed and your ability to control weather, it wouldn’t be all that hard to stop villain attacks.

Hawks also couldn’t help but admire you. You seemed attentive, always paying close attention to detail and asking a lot of questions. I mean he already knew you were good at your job, watching some of the viral videos of your fights with villains.

—

When the day finally came, it went as smoothly as planned, of course with a little bumps along the way. Still, the few civilians that were hurt only had minor injuries, and you and hawks made it so only a couple bombs hit the ground.

You, Hawks, and some other minor heroes who had joined mid-battle regrouped to talk about how to resolve the collateral damage.

“It’s not too much to be honest, I’ll have it all repaired by midni-“

“Wow! What an incredible display of courage from Hawks and Mother Nature, currently sitting at number 2 and number 3 of Japan’s Hero BillBoard Chart!” A loud reporter exclaimed, accompanied by a camera crew.

Of course.

You tried your best to ignore and keep talking to fellow heroes until a microphone was shoved in your face. The face of the reporter gleamed as she talked to you. “Tell me Mother Nature, how does it feel working with number 2 hero Hawks?” You winced at the question, but answered nevertheless.

“Hawks is a  diligent hero with a lot of experience under his belt despite being so young. It was great working with him.” You answered, forcing a smile on your face.

“There’s speculation that you two planned this together..is this true? How were you able to predict this attack? More importantly, are you two dating?” Those questions hit you like a truck.

“Um..no comment.” Was all you could answer with.

Nevertheless, the reporter persisted, “Well there has to be something going on. It’s just my opinion but you two seem perfect for each other.” She giggled at the camera, “Please! The public is dying to know!”

Before you could even muster up an answer to the reporter’s overwhelming question, a giant scarlet wing came between you and the reporter, blinding both her and the camera from your view.

“Hey. She said she doesn’t wanna talk about it. Let’s respect personal boundaries, yeah?” Hawks said in a nice but slightly defensive tone.

You blushed, looking up at him. As nice we he was trying to sound, he looked angry. And damn right he was. How dare they talk to you like you’re no more than just some D-list celebrity? You’re a fucking hero, who cares about dating speculation when you just saved Japan’s largest city? And how dare they ask questions about him when you were the one doing most of the work. He was enraged, and it was his natural instinct to protect the thing he cared for.

Before you knew it, he latched his arms around your waist, pushing you into his chest.

You were flustered. “What are you-“

“Let’s go.” Was all he said before flapping his wings, sending you guys soaring through the air.

You held on to him for dear life, damn was he fast.

Hawks smirked to himself, feeling your rapid heartbeat against his chest. You were trying your best to hide your blushing by burying your face in his neck, granted that probably made it worse because he could already tell by how hot your face was.

God, she’s adorable

As soon as you two landed on top of a building, you pushed him away as quickly as possible.

He chuckled, putting both of his hands up in defense, “You’re the one making this awkward y’know? Plus you owe me for saving your ass.”

You were angry. Was it because of the downright rude questions that the reporter asked you not too long ago, was it because you knew tabloids would be posting all about you and Hawks for the next couple of days, was it because you were..warming up to that damned bird?

And then you started. “Just so you know, this..us..is not a thing. It will never be a thing. I wish you’d just stop flirting with me all the damn time. Just move on to the next female hero. I actually don’t care what you do. Just leave me alone. I don’t understand why you have to be so clingy, it’s annoying.”

Hawks did nothing but smile, listening to you ramble.

“You know…I-“ He interjected, only to be interrupted by you.

“And geez, you’re so goddamn entitled. I owe you? I don’t owe you anything. I didn’t even need your help. You’re no different from any other guy, you’re fucking insuffer-“

Hawks shut you up with a gentle kiss on your lips.

Oh.

“You talk too much.” He said in a low whisper, before pulling on your chin to kiss you again. You kissed him back, resting your hands on his chest, completely indulging in the moment.

Fuck. Your knees were weak. As much as you wanted to keep going you pulled away, blushing furiously and refusing to make eye contact with him.

“Oh? So now you’re shy?” He chuckled, pulling you closer to him. He tried to catch your gaze but you just moved your head away from him each time.

“Someone might see us. This is bad,” You were able to muster out.

“You’re so fucking cute.” He said, making you blush even more. He continued, “I don’t flirt with you for no reason, y’know? Sure, sometimes it’s just to tease..but I think you’re amazing.”

You felt like you were melting in his arms. Unable to find the right words, you panicked. You were gone in seconds, manipulating the wind so it could carry you back home, the same stupid blush unable to leave your face.

“Call me!” He yelled.

That damn bird.

[andreafmn]

Collision - Chapter 2

Word Count: 1,477

Characters: Female Reader Uley Character, Sam Uley, Allison Uley, Charlie Swan, Bella Swan, Seth Clearwater, Billy Black, Jacob Black, Emily Young, Paul Lahote, Harry and Sue Clearwater, Leah Clearwater

Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life at it’s first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Twilight, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Stephanie Meyer and Summit Entertainment. The only thing I own is Uley Reader insert, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ story line.

Chapter: 2/?

A/N: There’s no Cullen’s in the first chapter, we’ll see them soon though. Also, Esme is in the story but her and Carlisle are not together romantically. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

<-Previous | Next ->

Chapter 2

The next day she awoke at half past ten. She looked at her bedside clock flustered, knowing she had wasted almost all morning. She could smell breakfast already prepared and her mother downstairs doing some light cleaning.

She hurried into the bathroom and took a small time to finish her morning routine, flying down the stairs. Allison laughed as she noticed her daughter stumbling with hurry down the stairs, clearly heading to the door.

“Eat some breakfast before you go, darling!” Allison shouted as she swept the floor of the dining room.

“I’ll just get some on the way,” (Y/N) said as she put her jacket on, seeing in the distance dark clouds adorning the sky.

“I made you a sandwich so you can take it with you and a travel mug filled with coffee.”

“Thanks, mom. You’re the best,” (Y/N) kissed her mother’s cheek and grabbed the food from her hands.

“And be careful on the streets, the tires haven’t been changed on the truck and the roads are supposed to be very slippery today.” Allison called out to the girl who was almost completely out of the door.

(Y/N) barely heard her mother’s warning as she jogged up to the truck parked on the driveway. There was a sandwich hanging from her mouth as she backed up and sped to the main road. It was quite a long ride to Port Angeles, and she wanted to be back before dark. She spent the ninety-minute drive listening to background music and noticing how the sky changed from blue to dark grey to a lighter grey as she passed and left Forks. She rarely visited the neighboring town, listening to the stories by the elders gave her enough reason not to. Unlike most of her friends and even her own brother, she believed the string of words that they sewed. There were so many things that were unexplained in the universe that it would be ignorant of her to not believe that the supernatural could exist. Although, the past four years she had started to disregard the tales as made up stories, not being able to prove that they were veracious.

Once she arrived, she parked in front of an antique store and started perusing through the various stores in the strip mall. Before she knew it, five hours had passed. Her feet were sore from walking back and forth, her arms were read from all the bags she had carried, and her head was hurting from a lack of food. It was already five in the afternoon and (Y/N) was ready to go home. She got back into the truck and started her drive back home. An hour into the drive the sky darkened more than it should’ve, and heavy rain cascaded from the clouds. Her vision was impaired from the thick droplets and her heart was beating hard, scared of what could jump out in the darkness.

(Y/N)’s worries were confirmed when a deer jumped onto the street and had her swerve the truck. The car spun for some seconds and slid off the road, crashing into a tree. The girl’s head flew forward on impact and connected with the steering wheel in front of her. Her vision blurred and her headache grew exponentially. She could hear her name being called from far away but couldn’t distinguish whose it was. As it came closer, she could finally make out the frame of the sheriff, Charlie Swan. He was speaking to her, but no words registered in her head.

Charlie moved closer to the truck and tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. The sheriff reached into the open window and carefully tried to retrieve the wounded girl. She wasn’t in the right mind and in this rain an ambulance would take too long to get here. He laid (Y/N)’s head on his shoulder as she mumbled incoherent words, then reaching his arms under hers to pull her softly. He was careful not to scrape her body too much against the broken window, laying down his jacket first to cover most of it. Charlie tried his best to see amid the harsh rain, praying to whatever being was controlling the weather to stop. The blood that was gushing from (Y/N)’s forehead had washed off as soon as her head had exited the car but it didn’t stop flowing. After what felt like hours, the sheriff had the teenage girl in his arms and carried her to his cruiser. Turning his emergency lights on he sped as carefully as possible to the hospital.

He felt the ride eternal as he heard the hurt girl in the back of the car moaning in pain and noticing the shirt he’d wrapped around her forehead was soaking up too much blood. As he neared the bright lights of the hospital, he slowed the speed down as to not slam on his brakes and cause more damage to (Y/N). He carefully grabbed her limp body and entered the hospital. It seemed like the emergency room had a slow night, but he only brought trouble. 

“I need some help here!” Charlie called out, worry laced in his voice. 

“Sheriff Swan, what happened?” A nurse asked as she accompanied the team wheeling a gurney for the unconscious being in the officer’s arms. 

“This is (Y/N) Uley. She hit her head in a car accident, I assume her car swerved as she avoided an animal in the street. She’s been unconscious since I got her in my car. When I found her she was barely coherent.” 

“Okay, why don’t you wait for us in the waiting room. We’ll let you know as soon as we have some news.” The nurse smiled. 

All Charlie could do was nod and sit down for a second, later pulling out his phone to dial Allison Uley’s number. 

“Sheriff, to what do I owe this pleasure,” Allison chimed. 

“It’s not good news, Allison. (Y/N) has been in a car accident.” Charlie could feel the panicked energy coming from the other side of the phone. Close to this time last year he had gotten news that his own daughter was hurt through a phone call. “Now, Allison, I know you want to speed off to the hospital but I would advise you not to. The roads are really bad over here and we can’t have you both admitted.” 

“But I can’t leave her alone,” she sobbed. “I need to be there for my baby.” 

“I know, but she won’t be alone. I’m gonna stay here until she’s good to go and I’ll take her back to your house. Now don’t you worry, you know she’s a strong one.” 

“I know,” Allison sighed an air of defeat. “Alright, just please keep me updated on everything. Doesn’t matter how late.” 

“Will do. I’ll have my buddy pick up the truck and leave it at Billy’s.” 

“Thank you, Charlie, so much.” 

“No problem, Allison. Try to get some shuteye, it looks to be a long night.”

And a long night it was.  

Thankfully, (Y/N)’s injuries were minor and she would be able to leave as soon as she woke up. Charlie spent all night in the hospital, calling a friend to drive (Y/N)’s truck so that Jacob could see if it was worthy of repair and leaving a message for his daughter that he would not be coming home that night. The nurses were nice enough to bring the officer a blanket and some coffee as it seemed he wasn’t going to leave and come back the next morning, keeping his promise to Allison that he’d stay beside her daughter. 

Once a room was given to (Y/N), Charlie managed to catch up on a little bit of sleep on the armchair next to her bed. The girl slept even through the morning light that slipped through the window that woke the sheriff up. He updated Allison on the persistent status of her daughter. Once again, the nurses showing kindness by bringing him a cup of coffee as he waited for (Y/N)’s eyes to open.

(Y/N) was engulfed in darkness during what felt like a second. She tried fluttering her eyes open but was met with a painfully bright light and a pulsating headache that rang through her body. Her eyes closed once again to try to minimize the discomfort, to much avail. She barely remembered what event befell her to end up in this situation, but she could hear she was not alone.

“Are the lights bothering you, (Y/N)?” Sheriff Swan spoke, noticing the girl had awoken. She promptly nodded and he stood up to turn off the lights as the room door opened. “All right, they’re off now. Hello, doctor.”

She tried opening her eyes again and was met with the most radiant eye color she had ever seen.

Golden.

<-Previous | Next ->

[alice-angel12x]

☁Alpha!Kirishima x rebellious!omega!reader

Omegas, the lowest rank and the most submissive... Well not all. 1 out of 50 omegas is an omega-R. Or called broken omegas, they have an uncanny ability to ignore an order from an alpha.

An Alpha order is a special ability they have to force submissiveness on the lower ranks, even some lesser alpha. So if an alpha tried to use his Order on an Omega-R, they would not submit. Or at least not very easily, they will feel the urge to obey. But they can ignore it and defy them. Other than that there is no real difference between the omegas.

So you could see why my kind is frowned upon. Not wanted and such. I was born an Omega-R from a pure omega couple, funny enough.  Know there is no way to tell if you an omega-R, till some alpha tries to order you into having s@× with them. Then the next thing that alpha knows is that they have a broken nose. Or they do a DNA test to see a small mutation in your omega genes.

News quickly spread about me being an omega-R, while most omegas found it cool with a few exceptions. Other ranks especially alphas did not like this. To them, an Omega-R is something unnatural.

"That's unnatural, such a freak of nature"

"Disgusting, that thing should know its place,"

"Life is gonna crush her spirits soon anyways,"

"I can't wait for her to sent to Omegan school,"

They would snicker those words behind my back. Omegan school is a place to teach Omegas how to please their mate. Being Alpha or Beta, whoever is willing to paying enough to have a 'trained omega' as a mate. I found it disgusting, and many omegas would agree, but in silence. Omegas have the most restrictions, they have curfews at night, only certain jobs are open to them. Or at all if their Alpha/beta allows them. All this to "protect the fragile omegas". Even though I have met many omegas with powerful quirks and skillsets. But are swept under the rug just cause of their second gender.

Despite this, I had one good alpha friend named Kirishima. He was gentlemanly and kind, the only one who treated me like an equal or at least like a person. Know that doesn't mean he was a pushover, he was a pretty formidable Alpha. The only guy who believed I could become a hero.

Many people in society believed that omegas shouldn't be hero's, that is a role only for betas and Alphas, they say. Omegas have only two roles, to be a perfect obedient housewife and used for breeding. Yet what I find only more messed up, is when the education system goes out of its way to try to prevent me from even attempting to get to UA. But thanks to the power of knowing the right people I was able to take the exam. And pass with flying colors, placing in number 6.

Know I have a pretty strong telekinesis quirk. I could crush a large point zero robots into the size of a small truck size metal ball. Yet even in this school, surrounded by good people in class 1A. I still couldn't escape the awful stereotypes. They mean well, but once in and while they would bring up the flaws omegas have, and how they shouldn't be in the hero course. I never told them that I was an Omega-R.

_______

It was a bright day and we were outside doing training. Aizawa placed everyone in one on one matches, chosen by a simple lottery. Y/n was up against Bakugou, a very strong and proud alpha.

He was a little too happy to fight y/n the omega. I wished they would stop referring to y/n only by her second gender. Bakugou never liked Y/n from the start, he believed that she should have gone to Omegan school like she was meant to. The others believed that becoming a hero is not safe for omegas. I just can't help but get pissed off about that, they think they can protect omegas by stripping them of their humanity and rights. Forcing them down a path that leads to them being locked away at home. Only there to please their mates.

The fight between Bakugou and Y/n was fierce. Every time Bakugou tried to get close to y/n, she'd simply push him away with her quirk. Eventually, y/n was able to pin Bakugou in place with her quirk. He was just a few inches away from the boundary line.

"LET GO OF ME, Omega!"  Bakugou ordered.

Y/n trembled at his voice. Bakugou was using his Alpha order to force Y/n into submission. Some of my classmates trembled too.

"This is why an omega shouldn't be a hero. Omegas can't help but obey an order," Mineta said simply.

"It's a sad truth, most villains are alphas. So Y/n could be easily forced to submit by a simple order. Some alphas can break free of order, but omegas can't," Momo added with a sorry look.

"Surrender omega! That's an order," Bakugou said with a cocky smile.

Y/n trembled in place, she was fighting against the order. Then suddenly Y/n started to run full speed at Bakugou. She jumped into the air moving forward from her momentum. She twisted her hip, recoiled her leg, then extended it right into his face. Kicking Bakugou out of bounds. Everyone was shocked, not because this omega bet Bakugou, but because she was able to ignore an alpha order.

"I may be an omega, but I'm not an omega you can order around. And I would never submit to the likes of you," Y/n said with her own piercing glare.

Everyone started to look at her oddly after that. Those Who were nice still talked to y/n, but many just stayed out of her away like the plague.

One night I entered her room, after a hard day she had. She was on her bed sobbing. It has been a rough week after word got out that an Omega-R was in the school.

"Are You alright Y/n?" I asked her.

"No," Was all she said.

I quietly walked over to her bedside and sat on the edge of the bed.

"What's wrong with being what I am?" She sobbed.

"There's nothing wrong, it's just many higher rankings like to be superior. Omega-R's are like a threat to them," I said sadly.

"Do I feel like a threat to you?" She asked as she looked over at me.

"No. But to be honest that's what I like about you. Don't get me wrong having a submissive omega would be nice and all. Yet that thought doesn't seem appealing to me. And my dad would take advantage of his rank all the time with mom and me," I explained

"I refuse to be like him. I... I'm going to be better than him. So I've been wanting to ask you," I hesitated. I didn't know if this was the best time to ask this question.

"What is it Kiri?" She asked as she sat up.

"Will... Will you be my mate. Not as Alpha or Omega, but just as Kirishima and Y/n," I asked.

Y/n was silent for a long time, till I felt arms wrapped around my shoulders.

"I would like that very much, Kiri~," she coed as she kissed my cheek.

[sadlysoulx]

HAIKYUU CHARACTERS GOING TO IKEA

Part 2 (w/ Hinata, Kageyama, Sakusa, Oikawa, Ushijima and Tendou)

I really really like the idea of haikyuu boys going to Ikea, the part 1 is on my account so pls feel free to read it. As u can see. . . Double post😏😏😏 I want to spoil y'all coz ur my bbs😌✨ please enjoy ❤️ THANK YOU FOR 49 FOLLOWERS 😭💓✨

Hinata

Please this ball of sunshine's never been excited to go to a furniture shop

He likes it because he loves picking up mysterious tools.

GURLLL, THE MOMMENT YOU STEPPED IN IKEA HE GOT LOST😭

You got so nervous coz you can't find your boyfriend in the sea of people.

That is until the speakers blared out, saying:

"L/N Y/N, please come to the office, your child has been found,"

And you were like: wait I have a child???👀👄👀

But then you figured it's probably Hinata

So you went in the office to see Hinata pretending to crying his eyes out

And then when he looked up, he said to the staff:

"yeah. . . That's my mom,"

You:👁️👄👁️

Employees:👁️ᴗ👁️

Hinata: 👁️〰️👁️

After that, you made sure Hinata doesn't leave your sight.

He sat in that cart where your supposed to hang the yellow ikea bag.

Hinata likes to point to things you don't need and tries to convince you to buy them.

"Y/N. . . Please! Look it's so cool, you just have to spin this and then your pencil would be sharpened!"

"Ooooooh! Y/N we need to get that folding table!"

"WOW! Y/N, Y/N, babe! Look at that sofa that can turn into a bed, let's have one!"

But ofcourse you didn't buy them🙅

After buying things you need, you went to the Ikea food court to have lunch.

This baby likes the kiddie meal where you are given a colored plate filled with nuggets and french fries.

Please, Kuroo and Bokuto had a huge influence on him since they also like kiddie meals.💀

He also likes the Ikea meatballs<3

But then after that, he convinced you to let him go to the Ikea Kid playground.

Since he's a small baby, the Ikea staff let him in😭😭😭

(pretend there's no height limit)

Your watched through the window outside as he played.

He settled in the pool of plastic balls playing with other kids.

And then he went up climbing the big dust pan with those ropes and surrounded by plastic balls😖

He watched cartoons with other kids❤️

But then he immediately went out because he made a kid cry by accidentally cursing at them💀

Hinata may be a fluff ball but sometimes Tsukishima is a bad influence for him 🤦🏻‍♀️

Kageyama

ಠ_ಠ expression always on

When you wanted to show him something and ask if it's nice, he would nod and just be like: ಠ_ಠ

Seriously, when you show him a kitchen knife, he would nod and say:

"It's nice you should buy it,"💀

When you show him a useless kitchen tool, he would nod and say to buy it.

Help this boi✋🏻😭

He doesn't know how to shop😭

Buuuuut when it comes or the bedroom area, he would sit on it and lay down.

Kageyama would drag you on the bed and make you lay down beside him, not caring if people gave you weird looks❤️

He keeps on insisting to get a new matress because the one he's laying on is soft.

And then he mentioned how you need to buy a new bedframe because the both of you broke the ones in the house.😃

BECAUSE YOU WERE JUMPING ON THE BED SEEING WHO CAN JUMP THE HIGHEST.

He was bored whenever you stop by to check something out

So he stands behind you like🕴️

And one time he accidentally made a kid cry😭

He just tried to make the baby laugh with "funny faces"

But then he ended up making them cry¯\_( ˘_˘)_/¯

You know that part of Ikea where there are really tall shelves with full of boxes?? Yeah that one

It's so adorable how he looks up at them with his chin up in the air like how a child would look up on an airplane 😖❤️

Oh yeah and he insists on buying those cute tent playhouse 🎪. 😃

He even begs on his knees for you to accept to buy it.

When you stopped to eat, he wants to push the food cart for you, he find it exciting to out on the trays of the cart😣

he always go back to the line to get another carton of milk

He came back 3 times, back and forth just to buy another milk🤦🏻‍♀️

Kageyama likes the yogurt that Ikea sells, he likes the strawberries and berries decorated on top of it.

He doesn't have his own plate of food, he wants to share with you✌️

Sakusa

He doesn't want to go

But reader-senpai is so stubborn so you insist

He didn't want to go so you finally gave up, leaving him in your shared apartment.

But then at the last minute, he said he wanna come.

Yoomi-bby doesn't want people to touch you or even ask for your number.

What's his is only his so no SHARING 😤

He always scolds you on stop picking up things on everything you see.

So every time you drop the item, he sprays your hands with alcohol

Coz he doesn't want his baby to be sick😪

But when the both of you reached the bathroom/toilet models, he literally switched.

He finds them interesting😃

Like how the bathroom models are beautifully designed.

He finds it funny when the inside of the toilet is covered with plastic, so no one would really poop or pee in it

He laughs so cute 😖❤️

He laughs for straight 2 minutes and you don't really care, he's just adorable.

Please he collects Ikea pencils 😭

He takes more when he saw another Ikea pencil and ruler stall.

And then take some random paper and draws on it out of boredom.

He drew you😞

It wasn't the best but it's cute how he tries hard.

Kiyoomi also find the chair sections interesting.

He likes the rocking chairs and said that he would get one

How could you say no?❤️

He payed for it easily and it would be delivered in the apartment this night.

💸RICH BOI 💸

When you are in the rugs and mats section, he likes touching the furry ones

"Look Y/N! it's really soft. . . Touch it,"

But then he told you to leave the area immediately because it smells weird👁️👄👁️

It came from those leather and those cow skin looking matts💀

When lunch rolls by, he likes to watch kids playing in the playground 😣

He eats fancy so don't be surprised if you see him use knife and fork so expertly and eat steak with some sauce.

He gets so excited when going home because he can finally set up the rocking chair 💀

Oikawa

He loves shopping!

I can sense it, he radiates the vibes, you can't change my mind.

He picks up everything he sees and put in the cart.

And you have to get those things from the cart and put it back because you don't need them💀

He whines about how he needs all of them

And you have to remind him that they would just stay in the storage room like how the other things ended up he brought last time.

But nuh-uh

🎶He sees it, he likes it, he want it, he got it🎶

🎶I want it, I got it, I want it, I got it🎶

"Y/N-chan, I'll buy it with my own money! You don't have to worry about it!"

You know what are the things he buys?

A whole chandelier, an emergency lamp that charges by spinning the ledge, a WHOLE cabinet, some kitchen utensils–he doesn't cook💀 and some more things. . .😐

He actually bought the whole Ikea 😭

But then he came up to you and ask if you can buy him those dog stuff toys.

He pouted for it.

You gave in and bought two stuff toys for you and him❤️

And then you remembered why he asked you to buy it for him when he had no problem to pay the expensive things he wanted.🙄

"So that it would be special, Y/N, look it came from you!"

He likes the candle section.

He specifically likes the scented ones.🕯️

Oikawa keeps picking them up and smelling them😭

He ended up adding to cart once again🤦

He made a delivery truck deliver all the things he bought to your house.

Ofcourse he would, he 💸rich💸

After that you both ate

And he just had to insist on you feeding him because he wanted to make the lonely teen across him jealous 😭😭😭 slskskjfgh

He likes the bread bowls

No he doesn't put soup in them

He just likes the bread.

You don't have to go back to Ikea for a whole year because you remembered Oikawa bought the whole store.

Ushijima

He just follows you everywhere, stoic and not saying anything 😐

When you stop to check on something he'll be like🕴️behind you

He also picks up some things that interests him😖

And if her finds something weird, he'll pick it up also and try to find out how to use it

But he ends up breaking it, so he quickly put it back and walk back to you😭

He holds your hand and look around as if he's a lost puppy ❤️

Waka-waka takes those paper rulers and roll them into a tight roll💀 please I do that everytime

He also collects those Ikea brochures and still takes another one even though you have a lot at home 😃

You know those yellow banners that hung from the ceiling with the prizes labeled on it??

Like kenma from part 1, he jumps and hits it with his fingertips aww

He's a huge baby🤭

Until he breaks it and made it fall on the floor💀

The both of you quickly run away before a staff scolds you both

Everytime other time, out of the blue, he would hug you, telling how much you mean to him😢

You know those fake windows in house models where it's actually just wallpapers lightened up from underneath??

He thrash talked about who taught about it because it didn't look too realistic 💀

He likes the kitchen section because the kitchen tools amazes him nd he cooks in the house,sooo¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Ushijima points at the things he find interesting and talk about them to you

"hey. . .Y/N. . . That thing is so cool, it can turn into a bed from a sofa. . ."

ANDDDD

He also likes the outdoor/garden section.❤️

He has his mini garden and he plants succulents😩

So he puts soils and other plant materials he needed for planting like pots and shovels.

He buys you plastic flowers too💀

It's not real but hey! At least it came from someone you really really love😏

He buys you unnecessarily a lot of those too😃

buys you things you needed, anything you want, he'll buy for you. . .

He'll just take out his credit card💳

When lunch comes, he always take the fruit salad because he likes it.

He would also feed you his own food•//////•

Ushjima always likes the fish with that kind of sauce

He shares food

So take it or leave it 😤

Tendou

Baki Baki ni oreeeee~

I love this boi, I don't get why people see him as a monster😤

Oki oki, he is sooooo excited to go around ikea

He takes a lot of the Ikea magazines

"it's free! So why not take many?"

He literally skips around beside you and gets excited over small things

"Ooooooh, Y/N! A rechargable light bulb!"

"Y/N! Y/N! Come here! Look, it's a chandelier that opens and closes!!"

He is very curious about things so make sure you stir him away from the kitchen section because that's where most of the weirdest things are.

Somehow you'd still end up in the kitchen section

He saw this weird looking scissors and he doesn't know what are the other features for.

You told him to drop it because he might hurt himself.

But no, he just had to figure out what is is for💀

He ended up hurting himself from toying around a scissors that separates each leg so that it can become a knife.

Of course he did hurt himself🤦

He run up to you, whimpering

And you just have to scold him😐

One time he got so curious about what that heavy door was for and he opened it

The alarm started going off🚨💀

IT WAS AN EMERGENCY DOOR

You made sure you don't let Tendou out of your sight again

When you stopped for lunch, you let him control the food cart.

But he accidentally pushed an old lady infront of the line with it.

Don't worry Gran is fine👵

What's with Haikyuu characters always liking kiddie meals?!😭

Yeah yeah he likes them❤️

But then when you two settled down to finally eat

He screamed why is his plate color is green, he wants red😭

You told him to finish his food quickly or else you'll leave him there

So both of you finished quickly and Satori wants to go home as fast as possible because he said he has a concert in his shower💀💀💀

My hands hurts😐

Anyways thank you for staying till the end❤️

Every like, reblogs and follow is appreciated 😏

This is my work so please don't steal in any way, not even turning it into a tiktok😐

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[markosmate]

Could you do one where the boys (poly or David) girl gets insecure after seeing other girls fawn over the boys so she try’s to dodge the boys thinking they’d be happier with someone else- also your writings are quickly becoming some of my favorites of the lost boys ff writers 💛💛💛

aww thank you so much!! that means so much to me and of course,, this is a really cute idea so i had fun writing this one. i chose to do poly, if you want me to write another one that’s just david i'd be happy to :) - 🧚🏻

cinnamon

pairing; poly!lost boys x reader

warnings; self doubt, insecurities

The first thing you noticed about the boys was how well they were dressed. Despite all of their outfits consisting in relatively dark colors, they all seemed to have their own little aesthetics that fit their personalities well. The second thing you noticed, was how they either seemed to completely deflect people, or draw them in like bees to honey. No in between. You felt drawn to them almost immediately, their punk yet boyish vibes rubbing off on you the perfect way immediately.

But after realizing how many girls flocked to them on the nightly, you refused to give into the butterflies in your stomach when you locked eyes with one of them for the first time. Instead, you turned on your heel and began making your way in the opposite direction. It didn’t take long for them to get you wrapped around their finger, almost like you got hooked on their line and they were pulling you in quicker than ever before.

You fell for each of them, hard, and in turn, they fell for you. After many conversations among the four of them, they decided to break both the news of what they were, and their plan of sharing you, in one night. You were honestly more shocked at their confession of feelings than you were about their apparent bat side.

Of course you were a little horrified at first. What do you mean your sweet boys drained people of their blood every night to survive? You didn’t quite believe either thing they were telling you until David flashed his face at you, yellow eyes and fangs galore. You stared at him for a good long while, taking it all in before the second confession hit you like a truck.

"You’re saying all four of you have feelings for me? Like, feelings feelings?" Your jaw dropped, looking each one in the eyes as they all nodded at you with cocky smirks on their faces. Except Dwayne, he was kinda sympathetic about dumping that all on you at once, you know - he’s a nice guy when he’s not killing people to survive. "Dwayne kills people?" That earned you a round of laughter that cooled the tension in the air.

That night, you let your walls down. After all, you could deal with a few girls flirting with them every few nights. Now that they were all with you, they'd surely turn down the flirting and make sure the girls knew they weren’t interested right? Wrong, completely and utterly wrong.

In fact, it almost seemed like they were doing the exact opposite. Dwayne and David were about the same, they never used seduction to lure in victims. They had always preferred to use stealth and intimidation. Paul, on the other hand?

Suddenly he didn’t know how to hunt without cat-calling three girls in the process.

It angered you to no end. But at the same time, it also dug up many self-doubting thoughts that seemed to ring around your head every time he or Marko did it. Would the boys be happier with someone else? One of those girls who constantly fawned over their every move, practically obsessed with your four boys? You didn’t know, and after a while of that insecurity building, you decided you didn’t want to stick around to find out.

Your distancing started out small. Not showing up at the boardwalk for a night here and there without telling them you weren't going to be able to make it, cancelling plans of going back to the cave with them to sleep there for the day. They noticed immediately, obviously, but they couldn’t for the life of them figure out why you were suddenly acting this way. And the night that they planned to ask you about what was wrong, you didn’t show up to the boardwalk. Nor did you didn’t show up to their meeting spot the next night either, or the night after that. On the fourth day of you not showing up, the boys were all practically ripping the hair out of their heads.

"I’m going crazy here, man! Why can’t we just go check on her?" Marko groaned, thumping his fingers on the handle of his bike.

"Because." David answered curtly, breathing in deep around the butt of his cigarette.

"Because?" Paul cried out, looking at his leader with an exasperated expression. "Something could be wrong with her and you’re just saying 'because'?"

"He’s letting his pride get in the way." Dwayne huffed out, taking a sip from his milkshake. "He wants her to come to us, not the other way around."

"This is ridiculous. I’m going to her man." Paul grunted, starting up his bike before revving the engine for extra effect.

"Right on, dude." The shorter blond mumbled under his breath, following the former's actions.

"I told you we need to wait." David narrowed his eyes at the two offending vampires.

"No, man. They have a point. Something's wrong." Dwayne defended the other two's protests. "She’s been distancing herself lately and suddenly she’s not showing up to be with us anymore?"

"Obviously we did something." Marko threw in. "She wouldn’t just stop talking to us if we hadn't done anything."

"She’s not like that, man." Paul concluded as they all stared directly at David knowing that he had to give in now.

"Alright. Let’s go." The grins on his three boys' face was infectious, and he had to hide his own to avoid the teasing that was sure to come if they were to notice it.

The four revved their bikes and were off to your house, arriving in a record-breaking four minutes. They parked their bikes down the street as to not raise suspicion from your parents and quietly made their way around the back of the house towards your window.

Paul took the opportunity to pick up a few small pebbles along the way, before tossing them gently up to your window.

After a few short moments, your face appeared to them as you pulled your curtains back.

Your eyes caught Dwayne's first as you stared down into the yard, trying to make out their shapes in the dark. You unlocked the window and threw it upwards, much harsher than you should’ve considering your parents were still very much asleep. "What are you doing here?" You hissed down to them after poking your head out of the opening in the window.

"Whoa, babe." Marko tried to calm you. "We’re your boyfriends, why aren’t we allowed to visit you?"

You glared at him before turning to gaze at each of them individually. "Please leave." You mumbled calmly. "I don’t want to see you guys right now."

"Babe?" Paul called up, voice cracking the tiniest bit. "What’s going on? Can we please come up?"

You frowned. You were doing this so that they could find someone else that they would be happier with, not to hurt them. Your eyes softened as you made eye contact with each of them once more, eyes locking with David's at last. "Come on up." You sighed, stepping away from the window and plopping down on your bed. A huge gust of wind came blowing through your room, pushing your curtains out of the way and rustling your hair as all four of your boys managed to stumble through your small window.

You reached over towards your headboard and grabbed the nearest pillow you could to hug to your chest. Immediately Paul threw himself on the bed next to you, wrapping his arms tightly around your body to hold you against him. David moved to lean back against your closet door. Dwayne stayed near the window, moving to sit against the sill as Marko just kind of fumbled about awkwardly in the middle, not quite knowing where to go.

"You guys have never been in here before." You muttered, trying to divert the conversation that you knew they would want to address immediately. "Just outside to pick me up."

David rolled his eyes at your stalling tactics, pushing himself off the closet door to walk over to you. He leaned down, slipping a finger under your chin to bring your head up to face him. "What’s going on kitten?"

You sighed, not knowing how to put it without sounding desperate or clingy. You opted to lean back against Paul's chest as he shifted to sit with a leg on either side of you. "I wanted to distance myself from you guys-"

"Why?" Paul and Marko blurted out before you could finish your sentence. Paul seemed hurt while Marko just seemed offended that you would lead them on only to ditch.

"She was trying to tell us, shut up." David shushed them both.

"I just- I thought that maybe if you guys didn’t have me holding you back... you could find a nice girl that you really like who makes you more happy than I do." You whispered, holding on tightly to the blond's wrist that were wrapped around your waist.

"Baby, why would you think that?" Dwayne cooed, moving to sit beside you and Paul as Marko and David visibly deflated at your confession.

"I don’t know... I guess I just- I just got kind of upset seeing all the girls that flock to you guys night after night. And then seeing Marko and Paul flirt back with them, even more than you guys did before we all started dating, it just kinda sealed it for me. I just... felt like you guys were better off before we started dating." You explained almost all in one breath. Paul buried his face in your neck as Marko moved to sit on the other side of you. David kneed onto one knee and cupped your face to encourage your eyes to meet his own.

"Doll, we want you. That’s why we chose you. We don’t want them. We want you baby." He whispered, scanning your face to try and read what emotion you were feeling.

"And I’m just dumb, babe. You know I never mean it when I flirt with them. They’re just meals, you’re everything to me." Paul pouted, pressing a flurry of kisses to your neck and shoulder. "If I had known that it bothered you that much, I would have stopped right when you said the word."

"Yeah, baby doll. We won’t do it anymore, promise. They could never compare to you." Marko grinned at you, leaning forward to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. When he pulled back, your smile was already beginning to return to your lips.

David grinned at you, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. "All you had to do was tell us, kitten. You didn’t have to put yourself through all this self-doubt. We’re yours."

You smiled softly at him, leaning into his gloved hand. "I love you guys."

That night, three of your boys fell asleep curled against each other at the foot of the bed. You slipped out of Paul's arms, causing him to toss and turn until he found Marko's body to pull into his own. You crawled up the bed towards the headboard where Dwayne was leaned back against a bunch of your stuffed animals. He gathered you tightly in his arms as you curled up against his side.

"Go to sleep." He whispered into your hair. "I'll wake you up before me and the boys leave to say goodbye." You knew he wouldn't, but it made you smile anyway. You tried to keep your eyes open, trying to make the moment last as long as possible as you knew they would all have to leave in a few hours before the sun rose but you couldn’t deny how comfy it was to sleep against Dwayne. You fell asleep to the sensation of him pressing kisses to the crown of you head in rhythm you couldn’t pick up on.

"My cinnamon." He whispered just as you finally drifted off. "How could you ever doubt the love we have for you?"

Quick AN:// you’re LYING to yourself in you try to say the image of david curled up with marko and paul doesn’t sound like the absolute cutest!! okay i’m done hehe, i have three more requests to work on so i need to get started on those,, bye y’all mwah <33

[paversandplatters]

||𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚙|| (6/10)

Apocalypse! Au (TW! Minor gore and cussing)

Reader x multiple

Chapter 6: Found you.

Philza doesn't see the unexpected obstruction in the middle of the road until it's almost too late. The problem is he's far too engrossed in lecturing his younger proteges after one of them so boldly insulted his longtime companion and friend sat beside him. See the youngling seems to be plagued with diarrhea of the mouth. Philza sits behind the wheel of his rumbling winnebago, relentlessly chewing the ears off of Tommy, who is currently slumped in his seat, struggling to actually pay attention to what the older man is saying.

"May I remind you, if it hadn't been for Techno, this convoy woul-"

"LOOK OUT!" The angular masked man, deck out in leather and denim sits up with a start, eyes wide and fixed on something he sees through the massive windshield. Philza jerks the wheel and stands on the breaks. The contents of the RV shift. Water bottles, canned, goods and other heavy items tumble off the shelves and cubbies, a few crash onto the tops of Tubbo and Tommy's heads, eliciting a colorful string of curses. Both men slam forward as the trailer skids to a sudden halt. Philza and Techno flop back into their seats blinking, breathless, in the side mirror they see the long line of vehicles- pickup trucks, RVs, four-wheelers and even a few sedans- forming a chain reaction of lurching skids, every member of the caravan screeching to a stop, one by one in a billowing cloud of carbon monoxide.

“What in the hell is that?” he sucks in a breath, still gripping the steering wheel as he tries to focus on the figures standing blithely in their path less than twenty yards ahead of them.

One of them is a tall, Caucasian man, dressed in a tattered green pullover with the hood pull up and over an unsettling white mask- the only marking on it being a very minimal smiley face ‘:)’. In front of him stands a much shorter woman in an equally ragged black sweatshirt and jeans. She has one of her muddy boots propped up on the front fender of a fancy Cadillac SUV- the big black kind often used by shady government types- which is currently parked and idling in the middle of the road. The strangest part of this tableau is that the woman is smiling. Even from this distance, she aims her ultra bright grin at the convoy’s lead vehicle as though preparing to sell some new line of kitchen knives.Techno goes for his .38, which is stuffed down his boot.

“Easy Techno, easy…” Philza takes another deep breath, waving the weapon off. He’s a man approaching his early thirties, Philza wears a well worn graphic-t the design too mottled by age to be recognizable. His face marked with the faintest signs of age, his pouchy eyes radiate a certain kindness. “This seem like a group of the living, no sign yet that they aren’t friendly. Just keep your eyes peeled.”

Techno shoves the short barrel pistol under his belt.”you stay here Phil, I’ll go-”

Philza puts his hand up “No, no… Techno I’ll go. You tell the others to keep their cool and tell them to stay inside their vehicles.” The younger man reaches for his two-way radio as the older man climbs out of the cab.

Over the thirty seconds- the amount of time it takes him to struggle down the running board steps, and scuffle across twenty feet of pavement- a chemical reaction occurs. Unseen, subtle, undetectable to anyone other that the three coming to face each other in the middle of the asphalt two lane. It bubbles up within Philza unexpectedly and as powerfully as an electrical charge passing through him. Instantly he dislikes the large fellow looming behind her.

“Morning sir.” The woman occupying the road says with a gleam of neighborly congeniality in her eyes. Philza can see two others behind the tinted glass of the Escalade- Two young men sat in the back seat, their moods and demeanors are unknown. Their hands hidden, their spines rigid, muscles tightly coiled.

“Hello there…” he calls back, faking a smile. He can feel the eyes and ears of his people on the back of his neck. They need fresh souls and strong backs to help with the maintenance, fuel runs and heavy lifting involved in keep the caravan going. At the same time they must be careful. A few bad apples have passed through the group in recent months and have threatened Its very existence. “Something we can help you with?” He inquires.

The thousand kilowatt smile brightens as she adjusts the hem of her sleeves, almost as if she were readying for a sales meeting. “Didn’t want to sneak up on you back there.” She sniffs and covertly follows Philza’s gaze to the ever looming figure behind her. “You never know who you’re going to run into out here in the wilds of biter country. Your group here seem to have it down to a science, traveling in that little cavalcade of yours, always moving… Safety in numbers - it’s genius really.”

“Thank you.” He keeps his artificial smile plastered on to his face.

“That’s quite a vehicle you got there…”

“Thank you.”

“Is that a Cadillac?”

“Yessir, two thousand and seven, still runs like a top.”

“Looks like it’s been in some rough scrapes.”

“That it has..”

Philza nods pensively “What can we do for you? You seem like a woman-“ his eyes flit to the man behind her once more. “Who’s got something on her mind.”

“Names Y/n, just a fellow survivor trying to get by, avoid the unsavory types, the four us have had our full of it.”

“Uh-huh.” He scratches his chin. He knows what's coming and doesn't like it one bit. It doesn't feel right. “ what can we help you with? We’ve got some extra petrol if that’s something you’re interested in… if not we’ve got some bottled water on hand?”

She pours on the charm. “That's kind of you. These are difficult times. The biters out here are often the least of our problems, you have to be real careful. I wouldn't expect you to just take in any old stray you find along the road.” Her expression softens, her eyes filling with sadness and humility. “ Sir, we are good, hardworking people who need a place of refuge if not only for a short time, we need medical treatment, food and the safety of fellowship. It never occurred to us that solace might be found and a moving target like the one you've got here.”

The daylight has dawned enough now for Philza to clearly see the young men hunkered in the Escalade, obviously injured, nervously waiting. he swallows and licks dry chapped lips. “I'm going to have to ask if the two in the Caddy could maybe go ahead and show their hands.” She turns and gives them a nod, one by one the people in the SUV hold up their hands, revealing that they are unarmed.

Phil nods. “I appreciate that. Now may I ask the number and type of weapons you might be carrying?”

She grins. “It’s not much. Got a couple of nines and a shotgun. Big man’s got a snubby. Not much left over in the way of ammo, I’m afraid.”

He nods again and starts to say, “Fair enough, now if I might ask you to-”

Out of nowhere, a number of unexpected noises and quick movements in his peripheral vision interrupts his spiel and makes him flinch as if a bomb has just gone off. A figure from behind him approaches at a dead run, arms pumping excitedly, voice caterwauling-

“HOLY SHIT!! CHRIST, IT’S HER, I TOLD THEM IT WAS HER- I JUST KNEW IT-!!” The young protégé, dressed clad in red and white comes charging toward Y/n, Big man jerks back, reaching for his weapon taken completely by surprise.

“It’s okay! He’s one of ours!” Philza calls out shooting his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. “It’s alright, he’s harmless!” Y/n has her face suddenly aglow with emotion, eyes wet as she spots the kid, seeing the grey scarf still tightly knotted around his belt. She opens her arms.

“I fucking knew it!” The young man plunges into her arms. He so much taller than she remembers, that fact makes her heart ache. “I was worried you might’ve been dead.” He murmurs, his face pressed into the crook of her neck. The woman hugs him back, stroking his head with maternal tenderness. The young man begins to softly weep.

Y/n shushes him, murmuring soothing words. “I’m not dead yet… still that ‘cranky-old ass bitch’ you met in that hole.”

The young man now sobs into her neck. “I missed you… I tried coming back for you, but I was afraid… by the time I got help, you were already gone… I just.. I just didn’t think…”

She shushes him again “Now that’s enough of that, I told you not to bother looking back now didn’t I?” Her hand move to rub circles over his back. Nick pokes his head out the window with a furtive look. “What’s the deal..? Are we staying with these people or what.” Philza looks over at the two still embracing and smiles.

“looks like you’re already apart of the family.”

Tag list:

@the-wandering-pan-ace @hvrcruxes

[strawberrywritings]

Pastello Bianco

A/N: Found this song and thought: why not? I kind of want to do a series (if you can call it that) based on Pinguini Tattici Nuceari’s songs because I’ve been listeniing to them non-stop and they’re genius! But I do not guarantee. Also, yes, hi, it’s me again, coming on here to post something nobody asked for. You can find the song here and the full English translation here. Hope you enjoy it!🍓❤

Warnings: sad times + I haven’t written in months

/ Masterlist / masterlist 2

E se m'hai visto piangere (If you saw me crying) Sappi che era un'illusione ottica (Just know that it was only an optical illusion) Stavo solo togliendo il mare dai miei occhi (I was just getting the sea out of my eyes)

Your brows knitted in confusion once you spotted Angel hunched over the bed, his back to the door, where you currently stood. You’d never seen him cry, was he crying? Yeah, you were almost sure he was. You could hear quiet sniffles.

Knocking on the door, you made your presence known, a small smile at your lips, ready to comfort him. He turned his head towards you, looking over his shoulders to see you standing at the door of his room. He turned back around, looking straight ahead and trying to compose himself, not wanting you to know that he was, in fact, crying. Wiping the few tears that were just below his lower lash line, he put on a brave face, the face that always made him look so sure of himself, he had mastered it over the years.

He got up and walked over to where you were standing, giving you a hug and a kiss on the forehead, as you let him envelope your body in his, grateful for the heat his body brought to yours, feeling calm, letting out a breath when his fingers sneaked below your shirt, making contact with the skin of your waist.

“How was your day?”, he asked, not moving from the position, keeping his cheek pressed to your head, the smell of your hair filling his nostrils and making him more at ease. “Good – you answered, your hands moving soothingly up and down his back – how ‘bout you? You okay?”, you murmured, kissing his cheek and moving your head so you could look him in the eyes.

Mi chiedi come sto e non te lo dirò (You ask me how I'm doing but I won't tell you)

“Yeah, I’m good”, he mumbled, keeping you tight against him. The way he was breathing and the sound of his voice gave him away, though, but if you noticed, which you had, you didn’t point it out: if he didn’t say what was bothering him, it meant that he didn’t want to share it and you were fine with it. He knew he could come to you if he needed help. Instead, he kept to himself, like he always did, but there was only so much he could take… it got to a point he felt like he was about to explode, and yet he didn’t let anything show, opting to cry in the shower or when sleeping alone in his bed. You already had too much on your plate, he didn’t have to add his problems. It wasn’t fair to you.

I tuoi segreti poi a chi li racconterai (So who are you going to tell your secrets to?) Tu che rimani sempre la mia password del Wi-Fi (You're still my Wi-Fi password) E chi sa se lo sai (And maybe you don't even know it)

After your breakup, he tried to set a routine that would help him not to think about you. He worked at the scrapyard, he went on rides, he went to parties, he started working out more, he was doing everything in his power to avoid letting his brain run free, trying to occupy it with other thoughts in order to keep you out of his head. The only reason he noticed that your name was still the password to his wi-fi was because the new prospect asked if he could connect his laptop to the wi-fi. And your name sounded bitter in his mouth, he said it like he almost didn’t want to pronounce it, and saying it out loud brought back all the memories that he had kept stashed in the back of his mind, he hadn’t forgotten the pain in your eyes when you parted ways, or the sound of your voice when you said goodbye for the last time.

E scrivevo tutti i miei segreti (And I used to write down all my secrets) Col pastello bianco sul diario (With a white crayon in my diary) Speravo che venissi a colorarli (Hoping you would come and color them in)

Perché un addio suona troppo serio (Goodbye sounds too serious) E allora ti dirò bye bye (So I'll just tell you "bye bye")

You approached his house with a bag in hand, full of the things that Angel had left at your apartment, and you had come to retrieve the things you had left at his place. The exchange was almost silent, you greeted each other, avoiding saying anything that could ruin the moment, no empty words or empty promises, nothing more than what was necessary. When you were done collecting your things, he was in his living room, inspecting the stuff that you had brought back almost as if he didn’t recognize his own possessions. You stood in front of the door for a few seconds, before gaining his attention by announcing that you were leaving. He came to open the door for you and watched as you put your stuff in the car, climbing in and turning the engine on. If you had to speak again, you’d have burst into tears, so you opted for a small wave, trying to control your breathing and not cry in front of him. He didn’t say goodbye, that word sounded bad, and heavy, and emotional, and he really couldn’t bring himself to even look you in the eyes as you drove away from his house. When the noise of your car was replaced by silence again, he let out a shaky breath and went back inside, having to face the memories that were encased in the bag you had returned to him.

E ti auguro il meglio, i cieli stellati, le notti migliori e le docce di altri (I wish you all the best, starry skies, the best of nights, and someone else's shower)

Dove tu forse non stonerai più (where maybe you won't be so out of tune)

While getting the shower ready after his workout, he put a random playlist on, and the sound bounced off the walls as he turned the volume higher. You liked to blame your off-key singing o the acoustics of his bathroom and he just liked poking your sides, making a funny remark about how you should audition for X-factor, then. He hoped you’d find a bathroom where your voice didn’t sound as bad as it did in his, and he hoped you’d be happy, even if it wasn’t going to be on the back of his truck while stargazing. He hoped you’d be happy, even if it wasn’t with him.

taglist: (it’s the usual one, tell me if you wanna be added or removed❣) @sesamepancakes @i-love-scott-mccall @mayans-sauce @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @angelreyesgirl @my-rosegold-soul @deeandbobbymcgee @chibsytelford @rebelwrites @littleesilvia @woahitslucyylu @sadeyesgf @elcococruz @cocotheclown @sheeshgivemeabreak @blessedboo @brattyfics @thesandbeneathmytoes @enamoured-x @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @blackmissfrizzle @thickemadame @peaches007 @ly-canthrope @justahopelessssromantic @everyhowlmarksthedead @samcrobae @cind-in-real-life @mrsjaxtellerfan @gemini0410 @brownsugarcoffy @losolvidad0s @marvelmaree @noz4a2 @-im-fantastic- @destynelseclipsa @danie1432 @krysiewithak @ellieereads @wrcn9fvlcver @buttercup812

[faerune]

the sun has come to save me

pairing: johnny silverhand x f!v [vera volakov]

summary: in the aftermath of mikoshi's destruction, johnny takes his old body for a joyride and v accepts an offer from the aldecaldos though they can't seem to shake the other's presence. johnny shows up for a drink.

warnings: smut with feelings! drinking! smoking! spoilers!

[AO3]

Johnny Silverhand is on her doorstep and boy, if her teeny bopper self could be here-

But she isn’t and Johnny barely looks at her when he shoves inside with not a hello but a “Where you keep your booze?” 

They both seem to realize how redundant the question is when Johnny makes a b-line for the cabinet stocked with half-finished liquor bottles and mixers. 

Vera clicks her tongue against the back of her teeth and frowns at him, shoving the door closed. She hasn’t seen him for weeks. Not since Viktor gave him the all clear. She wasn’t surprised. It seemed he was rearing to take his new...well, old body out for a spin.

Still, a text to let her know he wasn’t dead in a gutter would have been nice. She had worked damn hard to get that body back for him. She’s surprised he didn’t take it and run; get back to doing what he does best — shredding in some sleazy bar for free drinks or sniffing out any way to fuck a corp over.

Vera shifts on her bare feet, hip cocked out and her arms crossed. She bites her tongue because it’s weird how much the picture of a pissed girlfriend she must be right now. 

She wanders over to where Johnny has uncorked a bottle of whiskey that’s been gathering dust in her cabinet. He pours it garishly into mismatched cups and hands her one. It’s the first time he looks at her, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“It’s like...ten in the morning,” Vera tells him, motioning toward the window aglow with sunlight.

“Like you give a shit,” he counters.

Vera ponders that for a moment and then shrugs, throwing the glass back. The whiskey burns her throat and she makes a disgusted noise, a little shiver shaking through her. Vera has never liked whiskey and regretfully his tolerance for it was not something they shared now. She catches Johnny’s crooked teasing smile before he takes the cup and bottle, swaggering over to her couch.

She wonders if he has noticed that — that they have bled into each other like ink on a soaked page. It is no coincidence that Vera has suddenly developed the ability to write with her left hand. And gained an affinity for shitty 2020s alternative rock.

Vera doesn’t bring her cup with her but follows him and sinks onto the couch with him, folding her long legs underneath her. 

“So, where have you been?” 

Johnny leans against the back of the couch, long silver arm stretching over the back and mirrors her so their bodies are turned towards each other. He takes a thoughtful sip and Vera fights the urge to roll her eyes. Always one for the dramatics. Though, it’s not like she can judge. Her annoyance with him has simpered to a warm, idle irritation. Something born more out of habit and unfortunate fondness for the asshole.

“Explorin’ the city. Seein’ what’s changed-” he begins. He points at her. “On my own terms. You were a good tour guide, V but-

“So…getting fucked up,” Vera continues with a wry smile.

Johnny laughs and sets his drink down, “Little bit of that too.”

“Why are you here, Johnny?” she finds herself asking, resting her cheek on her fist. 

“Realized we never celebrated,” he tells her, relaxing back with a satisfied grunt and aims his eyes at her. “Got our bodies, our lives. Hell, I can’t figure anything better to drink to.”

“We got lucky,” Vera tells him as both a grateful praise and a truthful warning. The cautious paranoia she has adopted has nothing to do with his influence that’s for sure.

“When’d you become so pessimistic,” Johnny scoffs. “What happened to my favorite starry-eyed little merc?”

Vera avoids his eyes, stares down at a scratch in her coffee table. Her manicured nails play with the studs in her ear. 

“You miss me?” 

Johnny’s voice comes as a surprise, thick and sticky with emotion. When she looks up, he’s staring right at her, studying her face. Vera’s chest tightens. Maybe he does feel that itch, the unfamiliar and haunting foreignness of being alone in the silence of a room. The lingering touch of someone else on the soul.

“You wish,” she teases dryly but the tightness in her throat prevents it from packing the intended punch. Vera reaches out for the bottle because suddenly that burn seems all the more appealing. It’s easier the second time around but she still can’t help the little twist her face does. He takes the bottle from her, again without comment. This time, however, his face looks serious and inquisitive.

Instead of prodding, filling the silence with words she waits patiently. It’s a hard habit to break but she’s getting better at it.

“Fuck,” Johnny grunts, leaning forward to rub the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Feel like I’m goin’ insane.”

Vera watches him — the fall of his hair in a dark curtain around his face, the curve of his back in the black t-shirt he’s wearing. The couch dips with the shift of his weight and it hits her again like it always does. She could reach out and touch him right now.

“I keep tryin’ to talk to you,” Johnny says in disbelief. “Keep forgetting I’m not in your head anymore.”

She lets out a breath of relief.

“Me too.” 

Vera’s lips curve into a tight-lipped smile, “Keep doing shit just to piss you off so you’ll talk to me.”

Johnny laughs at that. Well and truly laughs, deep in his belly. Vera isn’t sure she’s ever heard him laugh like that. It’s awfully contagious because pretty soon she is laughing with him.

“Been chewing on that fucking gum you chomp on,” Johnny tells her, snapping his ‘ganic fingers together. “Fuck what is it-”

“Cherrygasm?” Vera grins. 

“Shit, yeah,” Johnny says, shaking his head and leaning back against the couch. “Get antsy if I don’t taste that teeth-rotting shit. Got me to quit smokin’ at least.”

Vera lets out an uncharacteristic snort, “Well, shit, I started.”

“Ah, V…” Johnny begins.

She gasps and clamps her hand on his shoulder, sitting up onto her knees in excitement, “Don’t tell me The Johnny Silverhand is about to lecture me on smoking right now.”

Johnny’s hand cups the back of her thigh and moves it to the other side of his waist. Vera blinks dumbly down at him, her hands held up in front of her, limp and awkward. The two stare at each other for a moment but Johnny’s chrome hand doesn’t leave her bare skin. God, he almost looks...scared shitless.

Her voice is tight and quiet when she speaks.

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly.

Vera’s lips are on his. It’s rough, sudden and desperate as he responds in kind. A frantic kind of want starts to burn in her belly. Johnny is solid. Warm. Real. Her fingers sliding into his hair, Johnny grasping at her ass with bruising eagerness and flips her onto her back. He’s over top of her, around her. 

Her thighs spread so his slim hips can settle between them. Johnny’s hand tightens around her thigh and he grinds into her through the soft fabric of her shorts. A little sound leaves her mouth that she can’t manage to swallow. He smells like shitty motel soap and his tongue tastes like fucking bubblegum just like he said. Their frantic hands both war with her shirt for a moment, pulling in every which way as they scramble to get it off. 

Vera is exposed to the chill of her apartment, colorful tattoos spread over her heavy breasts, her stomach and the curves of her hips.

He is touching her, touching with long calloused fingers and chilled chrome; and is it a surprise she whines when he pinches her nipple between his silver fingers? Her head swims as it tries to grasp onto reality. Johnny’s warm mouth latches over her other breast with the kind of messy hot licks that make her squirm. 

“Fuck,” she breathes, arching up into his mouth as he sucks greedily at her skin. Her breast, her collarbone, her stomach. Johnny nips at skin and soothes away the sting with a hot tongue. 

Vera tugs roughly at his hair enough to make him groan deep in his chest. Is this what she has been aching for? To have him inside of her again?

“Johnny,” she huffs impatiently, losing grip on the back hem of his shirt when he shifts to lick and bite at the one of the pistols on her hips. Almost angered by the interruption, he moves up onto his knees and tears his shirt off over his head. Vera’s hands grab him, pull him back down to her. She needs to feel him. The solid weight of his body, the brush of the hair on his chest over her sensitive nipples, the ragged border of his shoulder where skin meets metal. 

Johnny licks at her neck, loves roughly at her sensitive skin. Vera lets out another keen of impatience, rolling up against him as he rocks against her through their pants. Then he’s down again, trailing long tails of heat with his tongue.

She’s about to tell him to stop fucking around when he lifts her legs and yanks her shorts off in a swift motion.

“Fuck,” he groans, only giving himself a breath to gaze over her before tossing her legs over his shoulders. A happy purr of pride burns through her chest at that. Johnny buries himself between her thighs. Vera’s hand reaches overhead and grabs the edge of a velvet cushion as he covers her with his mouth and laps eagerly at her. 

A moan, a breath-

She presses him between her legs with a hand on the back of his head, tangling again in the silk strands of black hair. Her body shudders, heat having hit her like a truck, burning through her body. Johnny’s tongue drags the small amount of wetness that has gathered at her opening and licks it all over her cunt. His hands grab her hips and yanks her closer to him, her ass lifted a little into his arms. 

He lets her hips rock up against his tongue desperately but his clenched fist on her thigh that will surely bruise tells her that he normally does not allow this. Blinding pleasure aches through her all the way to her fingertips. Pretty moans and gasped whimpers offered to the room. It drowns out the news reporter babbling away on the radio.

Vera’s concerns and thoughts of past, future and present have been lost to her frantic train of thought.. It is only the two of them again. It is only Johnny between her legs flicking his talented tongue over her and pressing two warm fingers inside. Vera lets out a breathless, broken moan and bears down on them, her knuckles white as she grasps at the cushions and his hair in an effort to ground herself.

She wants to be filled, wants him, wants more, more, more.

Her chest is tight, her body is crying for it, begging for him and-

Vera’s lips only manage the first syllable of his name as her release crashes through her like a booming stroke of thunder. She moans loudly to the ceiling, her ankles locking together between Johnny’s shoulder blades. This is when he presses her down, holds her to the Earth, while she keens and groans deep in her chest for him. 

Johnny doesn’t wait till she’s finished before prying her thighs away from his head and scrambling to settle above her. Her mind is a pleasured daze as he shoves his pants down his hips just enough to pull himself from the tight pleather. It’s good he doesn’t wait because he’s big when he slides into her, her cunt giving way to him in one stroke with how slick she is. Johnny lavishes his tongue over her ear, his breath hot and his hands greedy, touching and grabbing at any part of her he can reach.

Vera wraps herself around him — legs hitched up around his waist, arms around his middle. It feels as if she can’t seem to get her breath back but it’s alright because Johnny’s got her, fuck he’s got her in his arms and he’s inside her. She buries her face into his neck and thinks about how much she doesn’t want to let go of him. Vera cannot let go of anyone. Cannot give up. How many times has he called her stubborn?

Johnny grinds into her; stretches her and licks at her collarbone to smooth the dull sting inside of her. It’s been a long time for her and maybe he remembers that. Memories of hers she didn’t keep too well guarded— far too preoccupied with other parts of her psyche she didn’t want anyone to touch. 

He grunts into her skin, bruising grip still on her hip and starts to fuck her hard. He stays seated within her, content not to draw himself out of her tightness. Johnny’s thrusts are hard and quick and shallow, leaving her breathless. Vera concludes that if he stops and leaves her aching and empty she would shatter. 

Johnny starts groaning and huffing, breathing V and then Vera and then baby and it could be the force of his pace but she swears she feels him shaking in her arms. 

He tightens, stills and grunts a slur of profanities against her neck before he relaxes against her. 

Vera starts to chase her breath, staring at the cracks in her ceiling while his weight settles on top of her. It is quiet except for their breaths and the continued drone of the radio. Vera tries to latch onto the words but she can’t seem to make sense of them at the moment, heart pounding in her ears. The two of them, sticky chests pressed together and breathing in an awkward, frantic tandem. Her fingers slide up over his shoulders and back into his hair, his breath hot and wet as it beats against her neck. 

Johnny doesn’t seem to be moving any time soon but she still keeps her arms around him, even if her legs have fallen back apart like jelly noodles.

When he finally picks his head up, her breathing has returned to normal. The edges of his hair are damp with sweat when she combs it from his face. 

“You good?” Johnny asks her. She isn’t looking in his eyes, a burn of intimacy blooming in her chest that is hard to bear.

“Yeah,” Vera nods and aches when they disentangle themselves from each other. Vera reaches down and snatches up his t-shirt, tugging it on to cover herself. Johnny instead kicks his pants off the rest of the way and sprawls naked on her couch. There is a long and tender moment of silence between them, Johnny watching her curl her legs under her, tucking herself into the curved corner of the couch. 

She reaches over the back to grab her half-empty box of smokes. Vera holds her lighter in her shaking hands and lights it with just a bit of difficulty. The burning drag feels good, settles the nerves that are bounding in her body; heart still pounding under his gaze. 

Satisfaction. A heart-rending something she still does not want to name and thinks she might not have to. Loneliness, an empty ache with him so far away —  though it may just be a foot or two in reality. Guilt too. 

“I’m leaving.”

“Fuck, I know it wasn’t bad,” Johnny jokes and smirks lazily. It falls when she doesn’t chide him or smile back at him. Vera takes another shaky drag.

“Joining the Aldecaldos when they leave for Arizona. We leave in two days.”

Vera is an expert now in catching the quick strike of hurt in his features. No matter the words he slings at her she can see it and that fucking scares him. Vera knows because it scares the shit out of her too. 

“Spit it out,” Vera huffs in irritation, anxiously flicking the ashes from the cig.

“You’re fuckin’ with me,” he scoffs with a shake of his head, “Why in the fuck would you wanna live the rest of your life with tarmac rats, eatin’ sand and-”

“It’s my fucking life, Johnny,” Vera snaps angrily, forcefully flicking more embers into the ashtray she pulled into her lap. “Finally. Just mine.”

Vera laughs breathlessly and shakes her head in disbelief. 

“This city ate us alive. We are lucky to even be sitting here,” Vera tells him forcefully, her finger raised in accusation. 

“Be fucking smarter next time then. You’re really going to give up? Let all of them-”

“All of who?!” Vera exclaims. “Arasaka? Millitech? Petrochem? NCPD?”

She stands, almost stumbling in her anger. The ashtray clatters onto the table. Johnny sits back and glares at her, watching her body curl in fury.

“Never thought you’d be a fucking pussy, V,” he snarls, yanking his pants back on when he stands.

“Aren’t you tired of fighting?” V breathes, staring up at him. There is a softness to her body, her voice — not of defeat but of exhaustion. “Johnny, this city takes . That’s all it does. It gives nothing. It took you. It took me. It took-”

Jackie. Evelyn. Her mother-

Vera leans over, blowing a column of smoke from the corner of her mouth and stubs out the cigarette.

“For some fucking reason we have another chance. I’m not going to waste it throwing my bloody corpse against a fucking wall like every promise this city makes isn’t a fucking lie .”

Johnny’s jaw is tight but he doesn’t speak. It’s how Vera knows there are no more walls he can throw up.

“A new start. It’s more than any dirtgirl from Heywood could ask for,” Vera tells him.

“Okay,” he tells her with a shrug.

“Okay?” 

“Both know you won’t listen to me anyway,” Johnny grunts, arms crossing over his chest. A flippant flick of his hand. Still, there is something in his resolution. Something bittersweet and maudlin. Her body swims with the same ache.

She kisses him again, softer this time, arms threading around his waist. It isn’t long before Johnny lifts her into his arms.

 -

Vera’s apartment is darkened save for the warm glow of a lamp and the ever-present neon flicker outside her window. One of her neighbors is playing some music that booms through the walls, into her stomach. A bright green and yellow light dances over Johnny’s face, cuts sharp lines into his cheeks. She refuses to let him take a drag of her cigarette, the pair of them tangled in sweaty sheets on her bed.

Vera leans her cheek against the side of his chest, staring up at the ceiling. He has an arm looped around her and she can’t resist playing idly running her thumb over each of his fingers.

“Panam and I are going to say goodbye to the city. Sunset on that bridge in Westbrook. Two days.”

They both know why she’s mentioning it.

The silent dark of the apartment swallows their silence.

 -

Two days later, Vera is bathed in sunset glow as she says her farewells to the city skyline. A tangle of emotions ache in her chest but the heaviness is peeling from her shoulders like a bad sunburn. Panam had told her to take a long look. She left Vera with a reassuring touch on the shoulder and an understanding Vera had only found a handful of times before.

Johnny had left her apartment that morning after without waking her. Neither of them were really equipped for goodbyes anyway. How did you say goodbye to someone who knew you like that? Vera felt untethered, light and bittersweet. Despite herself, when she closed her eyes she could still feel the ache of tears pressing forth. A few fell freely, quickly swept away by a manicured finger.

So lost in fighting back the well of emotion in her chest, Vera doesn’t hear the car until it comes roaring around the last curve in the hills. The tarmac waves with heat, the shiny silver metal reflecting sunrays into her eyes. She squints against the brightness and eyes the red racing stripe that cuts across the back half of the car.

It rumbles to a stop at the curb. Too far away, Vera decides, pushing off the half-wall she had leaned her height against. She is already taking long strides — that might have been a jog if her legs were shorter — when the driver ducks out of the car and loops around to the hood.

“Just so you know,” Johnny begins, arms crossed, leaning back against his Porsche. “I get sand in my asscrack once and I’m leaving-”

“Johnny,” Vera huffs, pulling him down for a hard, messy kiss once she reaches him. An arm loops loosely around her waist, tugging her closer. Against his lips, she lets out a satisfied sigh, a beautiful, peaceful smile gracing her features in sharp contrast to the annoyed, fond tone that leaves her lips. “Stop talking.”

Johnny smirks lazily and straightens with a grunt.

“Know I can’t do that V.”

[shapeshiftersandfire]

The Woman at 29 Wilson - pt 1

@whumpinggrounds​ @sie-werden-nie-vergessen​

okay kids, buckle up, grab a box of tissues and a stuffed critter to hug, this is where it starts getting Sad

Verna Bellows

Washington, DC

29 Wilson Drive

20002

Stella stares at the address all the way down. The bus is hot and cramped and uncomfortable, full of people from states all along the bus route going to one place or another, but Stella’s eyes are all for the four lines of red text in the middle of an otherwise blank page.

Verna Bellows

Washington, DC

29 Wilson Drive

20002

Sarah is leading them right to Verna. Sarah herself is telling them exactly where to go to find her missing, dead aunt…and Stella can only guess why.

It has to be a cemetery. Verna’s family, her real family, whoever they were, must have set up a memorial of some kind for her. A headstone with nothing buried underneath it. A marker on a family plot where one space will always remain unoccupied.

But why would Sarah lead them there? Why would Sarah lead them anywhere? She’s never shown any inclination to cooperate with them, much less give them the exact information they need. What changed?

Stella runs her fingers over the words. They’ve dried since they were first written; she can touch the words without smearing them, without leaving streaks of red ink behind on her skin. They don’t seem real, they don’t feel real, none of this feels real. And yet, just a few hours after saving Ruth from her own horrific end—Sarah hadn’t spare them a story, after all—she’s on a bus on her way to Washington, DC, with Chuck and Ramon in tow, and into the heart of the nation on the brink of turning on itself, in search of a woman who has been dead for the last seventy years.

She’s not sure what she’s expecting to find, or if she’s expecting to find anything. She’s not sure what’s going to happen as they follow the address through the city, where it’s going to take them.

They’ll just have to wait and see.

Stella turns to the window, watching the landscape roll by, lost in thought at the leg of their search that awaits them, and it’s just after the driver announces that they’ve crossed the Maryland border that something on the paper moves. Stella’s heart leaps; she sits up, ,thinking another story is being written before her eyes and she’s on a bus, unable to do anything about it.

But instead of being a story, it’s a message.

Tell her I’m waiting for her.

                                                     [***]

The address is not a cemetery at all, like Stella assumed, but a one-story house with beige siding. The neighborhood is quiet, not a soul in sight, driveways either empty or occupied with empty vehicles. The drive at 29 Wilson is occupied by a single white pickup truck, rusty and dirty with a cracked headlight. Stella looks around the property, at the lawn strewn with colorful autumn leaves, the short evergreens on either side of the perimeter blocking it off from the neighbors’ homes. One tree at the corner of the driveway is bare; the other is mid-loss, with great patchy areas empty of leaves. Wind chimes blow somewhere in the distance. The leaves in the yard rustle. The whole place seems empty and abandoned, feels empty and abandoned; there’s a heavy, sorrowful feel over the house, as though something so horrible happened here that the nature itself was never able to shake the weight of it.

Stella looks around at the house. It seems so quiet, unnaturally so. She dares to take a peak through the sliver in the front window curtains, but the slightest look in gives her shows her a house with the lights off and no one wandering around inside. When she listens closely, there’s not even the sound of the television on.

Is anyone even home?

She goes up to the door and knocks anyway.

For a long while, nothing happens. Then there’s the faint sound of shuffling from the other side, the door clicks and swings opened, and in the doorway stands a woman in a pair of gray capri sweatpants and a ratty old yellow t-shirt, looking as though she’s just rolled out of bed despite it being late in the afternoon. Her copper hair is tied back in a loose ponytail and haphazardly thrown over one shoulder. She looks at the trio with a distant kind of curiosity, as though she’s grown used to having people come to her front door and having yet more strangers show up is nothing new.

“Can I help you?” She doesn’t sound unfriendly, just…tired.

For a moment, all Stella can do is stare at the woman. She looks vaguely like Verna, she thinks, something in her face that resembles the woman in the drawing in the newspaper. A distant relative, maybe?

“We’re, um, we…” She wrings her hands, glancing at the boys standing behind her. She takes a breath. “Did Verna Bellows live here?”

The woman leans back with a deep breath, jaw clenched. She doesn’t answer the question. Something in her eyes darkens. She says nothing, but steps away from the door, letting the trio inside and shuts it behind them. She gives them a firm look before she disappears down the hall and around the corner. They don’t follow.

Stella adjusts her bag. It feels heavier, being in the house. The weight she felt outside on the porch was nothing compared to what it feels like on the inside. There’s a sense off warm homeyness, but it’s suffocated by a thick, sorrowful fog.

Something awful happened in this house.

She adjusts her bag again and tries to listen as the woman has a muffled conversation with someone in another room. She can’t make out the words, and the voices are almost hard to distinguish, but one of them sounds noticeably more pained and tired than the other. Then a chair rolls along the hardwood floor, someone sniffs, and the floors creak as they walk. The copper-haired woman reappears around the corner, followed by someone else who looks…eerily familiar.

The new woman is shorter than the first by a few inches, with shoulder-length black hair and a black dress that comes down in a short V. Her heels click on the floor, her step sluggish and slow and aching. Dark circles line her eyes as though she hasn’t slept well, or at all, in quite some time.

Stella’s breath catches in her throat. Chuck grabs her arm. “Holy shit, it’s her.”

All Stella can do is stare. She’s supposed to be dead. Everyone always said she was dead. No way, there’s no way, there’s no damn way. Why isn’t she dead?

Verna Bellows herself stands before them, alive and well, and not looking a day older than she had in her portrait in the newspaper.

[sheerfreesia007]

Roadside Assistance

Title: Roadside Assistance

Fandom: Kingsman

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x OFC

Author: @sheerfreesia007​

Words: 2,028

Warnings: None

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711, @fioccodineveautunnale, @phoenixhalliwell, @linkpk88, @weirdowithnobeardo

Author Notes: I blame this little fic on Sparkles, after she got a flat while driving. I told her to imagine Whiskey coming to her aide with the tire trying to cheer her up. Low and behold we now have a fic. Ugh now I’m thinking of other scenarios for Whiskey, expect more cute scenarios between these two.

The loud thumping of rubber on asphalt made you curse as you tried to correct your line of driving with the steering wheel. Easing on the brake you slowed your car down and steered it over to the shoulder of the semi busy highway you had been traveling on. Managing to pull your car over far enough on the shoulder you finally stopped and put it in park. Sighing loudly you let your head fall forward as you still gripped the steering wheel in your hands.

Shaking your head softly you blew out a harsh breath and then opened your door to step out of the car. Cars, trucks, and semi-trucks sped past you on the highway making debri fly up around you causing you to lift your arm to shield your face. Looking down to the tires on your car you thanked your lucky stars that the blown tire was on the passenger side away from the fast paced traffic.

Walking around to the back of the car you popped the trunk open and leaned inside to grab the spare tire and pull it out. Letting it bounce slightly on the ground once it touched you rolled it to the side and let it fall in the tall grass at the side of the road. Leaning back into your car you pulled out the car jack and other tools you would need to fix your wheel.

Placing the jack and tools next to the front passenger wheel that was now flat, with what looked like a large puncture hole in the top of it, you stood back to your full height and began walking towards the spare tire that you had left in the grass. You slowed your step as you noticed a sleek black heavily tinted Aston Martin slow and pulled over to the shoulder not far from your parked disabled car. Feeling the hairs on the back of your neck rise, you subtly reached into the trunk of your car and pulled out a spare hand ratchet holding it to your side as you watched the driver’s door open on the probably more expensive than your mortgage vehicle.

You watched slightly stunned as a real life bonafide cowboy climbed out of the low vehicle. He was a tall man with dark brown hair with a gray cowboy hat sitting atop, a red and white plaid button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a large gold belt buckle with some ‘s’ emblem that you didn’t recognize, a pair of well worn blue jeans, and soft looking cowboy boots on his feet. To say he was the exact opposite of what you expected to climb out of that vehicle was an understatement and you stood there for a moment stunned.

“Everything alright there, miss?” he called out concernedly over the loud traffic not far from the two of you. You gripped onto the hand ratchet tighter as he stepped closer to you and nodded towards your car. “Do ya need help?” he asked as he stopped a few feet from you. You watched as his eyes darted down to the hand ratchet in your hand and he smiled softly before holding his hands up in faux surrender. “I come in peace, honest. Just saw you blow yer tire and wanted to make sure you were alright.” he tried to ease you.

“I’m alright, I can change it myself.” you reassured him loud enough to be heard over the flow of traffic.

“Ya sure? I don’t mind!” he called out as he gestured to the tire. “Ya can even keep your ratchet while I change it for ya.” he offered and you grimaced softly. You knew it’d probably be quicker for him to change it for you since you’d only done it once before on your own. And not to mention you were running late for your first day at your new job as it was. Nodding your head you moved to the side so that he could change the tire for you.

“I need to make a phone call and let my new boss know that I’m going to be late.” you said as you held up one finger to the cowboy. He nodded as he picked up the spare tire and began rolling it towards the passenger side.

“No worries sweetheart. I’ll start changing the tire while you make the call.” he said easily and you turned to face him while raising your cellphone to your ear. You still didn’t fully trust him so you kept yourself facing him so that you could watch as you pressed the contact number for Mrs. Brew, your new manager.

“Good Morning Statesman distillery this is Mrs. Brew!” came the cheery greeting over the phone.

“Good Morning Mrs. Brew I just wanted to call and let you know that I would be running late. My car got a flat tire while I was on the highway.” you explained regretfully feeling stressed and anxious that this would be a mark against you at your new job.

“Oh no! Are you alright? Do you need us to call a tow truck for ya?” came the worried response from your manager. You were surprised by how kind she was as your eyes focused on the cowboy fixing your tire, it was a far cry from the harsh cold treatment you had grown used to in the city.

“No, there’s a nice cowboy changing my tire for me. He stopped when he saw it blow out on me. Do you mind staying on the line with me until he’s done. I don’t trust him and don’t want to-” you began to explain unsure if she’d stay on the line with you.

“Of course! Smart thinking by the way. You never know with people these days, anyone could mean to do harm.” she said easily and you smiled at knowing she understood you. “By the way what does he look like? And what does he drive?” she asked curiously. You shifted on your feet as you watched the cowboy pull the last lug nut off your bad tire and take the wheel off the car.

“He’s driving a heavy tinted black Aston Martin. He’s tall, brown hair, mustache, unsure about the eye color, red and white plaid button up, blue jeans, a large gold belt buckle with an ‘s’ on it.” you relayed to her easily as your eyes danced over the man knelt down next to your car. You watched silently as he easily changed your tire as if it was no effort for him at all.

“Oh good description. Is he almost done with the tire dear?” asked Mrs. Brew on the line. Just as she finished asking her question the cowboy cheered loudly after tightening the last lug nut on the spare tire.

“Yes he just finished.” you replied amused at his actions. Mrs. Brew laughed softly in your ear as she heard him in the background.

“Sounds like it.” Mrs. Brew said softly and fondly. “I’ll stay on the phone with you until you get back in your car ok?” she reassured you and you hummed softly in response as the cowboy walked up to you holding the blown out tire. You quickly moved to your trunk once more and let the cowboy set the tire in there for you.

“Thank you very much for helping me. I really appreciate it. It’d probably take me much longer to change it.” you said in thanks to him as you walked behind him and went to grab the tools and the jack to put back in the trunk.

“No worries sweetheart! I can now tell work that I already got my workout this morning.” he said with a wink sent your way which made your breath catch in your throat. “Are you alright to get to work now?” he asked concerned and you nodded your head at him after placing the jack in the trunk and he moved forward to grab the tools from you to help set them in the trunk for you.

“Yeah I think I should be good. Thank you again.” you said to him with a pleasant but still distant tone. You smiled softly at him trying to be kind but still not trusting him. You couldn’t help it, after growing up in the city you knew that you had to take care of yourself and there were some out there that wanted to hurt anyone they deemed lower than themselves. There was always going to be a slight sense of paranoia in you because of where you had grown up. You liked to think that it made you smart and cautious. “Anyway, thank you again. I really appreciate it.” you said and waved at him as you began walking to the driver’s side door.

“Don’t forget to get a new tire. If you work in this area you can go to Dixon’s Repair Shop and tell them Jack Daniels sent you, they’ll give you a good discount.” the cowboy said and you turned to him with a furrowed brow.

“Your name is Jack Daniels? As in the whiskey?” you asked confused as you set a hand on the side of your car. The cowboy looked down at the ground as he scuffed his boot against the asphalt and nodded his head before looking up to you. “Huh, well it was a pleasure Jack Daniels. I hope you have a good day.” you said with a soft tilt to your lips and turned back to open your driver’s side door. Slipping into your car you breathed out softly and shook your head at the notion that the man shared a namesake with the whiskey company.

“You alright sweetheart?” came Mrs. Brew’s voice in your ear and you jolted, having forgotten that she was still on the line.

“Yes! I’m so sorry. I’m back in my car now. I'll be in to work shortly.” you said quickly as you buckled yourself in the seat and started the car.

“Get here safely I’ll see you when you get here.” Mrs. Brew answered and you easily hung up the phone as a loud car horn beeps at you and you waved at the Aston Martin as it pulled back into the flow of traffic. You turned your phone onto the map app that you used and plugged in the address to the distillery that you would be working at from now on. Seeing that you were only ten minutes away you sighed gratefully and pulled back into traffic following the route as your mind turned back to the kind cowboy who had fixed your tire for you this morning. Maybe you’d take his word and find Dixon’s Repair Shop and get a new tire. Smiling softly you shook your head setting the cowboy out of your head as you traveled to your new job.

*-*-*-*

“Brew to Whiskey, ya copy?” came the sweet sounding voice of someone Jack knew very well. Smiling at the radio in the car he tapped the console and brought up the secured line she had started.

“Whiskey here.” he responded easily and waited for her to relay her message.

“Did you just fix a young woman’s tire on the highway?” came her question and Jack furrowed his eyebrows at the console wondering how that woman knew what he had just done. His mind easily flashes back to the pretty cautious woman standing on the side of the highway gripping a ratchet tightly in her hand for protection. He grinned softly at her memory in amusement.

“How’d ya know that?” he asked in a gravelly drawl.

“I have my ways. You’ll be seeing more of her soon enough so be nice.” Mrs. Brew warned him and Jack scoffed softly.

“I’m always nice.” he snipped out and she laughed amused over the line before the line went dead. Jack shook his head as he focused on his route to work before smiling brightly at the thought that he’d get to see the wary woman again. She’d certainly brighten up his day and make things interesting now.

[offda-rails-art]

Been a while since I’ve enjoyed art. I finally finished my story-no color becuase paint is expensive and I can expand more by doing what I love most-sketching. Slight gore warning, like typical horror movie gore⚠️

Thank you for anyone following me recently, even though I haven’t been very active. I hope this makes up for it. Peace and love. Lochlan’s story part one👇

The countryside of Hennessy had a horrible storm roll in. It poured endlessly all night and into morning. The seemingly endless pounding rain made everything a muddy slippery mess, and with that the tracks were overflowed with water. Travel for any engine was dangerous so it was decided that everyone would take the day off and wait out the storm inside. Old Red, Donner, and Cracker Jack had already been in the roundhouse that night and early in the morning they were told “no work for today. Too dangerous.”

Lochlan had still been on his job pulling a long train all night. Something that had been expected to be finished by early morning was delayed by the rain. Lochlan went along the tracks carefully and managed to deliver his train by late afternoon meanwhile the rest of the engines back at the roundhouse were confined to their berths all day. And with that the group of 3 were very bored.

Lochlan backed his way into his respective berth, he was soaked from being in the down pour all day. He was also visibly tired from his tedious journey of start stop all through the wet slippery tracks. Before the poor big engine could get a word out Cracker Jack piped up. “About time! Reds been going on and on about silly stories. We’ve traded back and forth on interesting ones of our own. Well, Donner and I at least. Reds giving the whole “Wild West romance, forbidden engine/human love” spiel again.” Cracker Jack groaned.

“My recounts of pistol packing cowgirls are not romance stories! I’m simply making it clear that women are just as dangerous as men! That’s all!” Red growled quick to defend himself. His face turning slightly pink.

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that you old fart.” Cracker Jack smirked. Even Donner gave a slight chuckle in agreement.

Lochlan smiled and shook what water dripped down his face off. Cracker Jack grinned up at Lochlan expectantly. “Suppose you have anything of your own to share?” Cracker Jack asked, his grin widened hoping that Lochlan would have a story to tell. At least one that wouldn’t put him to sleep. Or any about his love interests.

“Me? What kind of story? I don’t do much that interesting.” Lochlan sighed and tried to think of anything worth telling.

“Lochlan. You’re huge. You see the world from a different point of view everyday. You do the more than any other engine on the railway. You’ve been everywhere, you must have something?” Cracker Jack retorted. Lochlan frowned and clicked his tongue in thought. A loud crack of thunder boomed in the background and shook the roundhouse. The 4 engines jumped at the sudden loud noise. The natural fearful reaction to the loud noise gave Lochlan an idea.

“What about a scary story?” He smiled and knew exactly what to share. The other three raised their brows in interest. Cracker Jack noticeably grew attentive.

“Yes! I think we can all agree that horror over a whole romance novel is sure to help pass the time!” Cracker Jack grinned. It took Red a second to process the slight dig made at him. He only grumbled and rolled his eyes.

“Good! I have just the one! It happened the very first week I arrived here.” Lochlan grinned and cleared his throat to begin.

When Lochlan first arrived at Hennessy he was immediately tasked with pulling long trains of heavy and important cargo for distances many other engines couldn’t travel. He traveled from late at night till very early morning so naturally his rest time in the afternoon was spent in any noisy bustling yard he could manage to get a break in. Most of the time Lochlan couldn’t sleep with all the noise. He didn’t mind not napping but peace and quiet was something he could definitely enjoy. It seemed that wouldn’t be an option for a while with his break schedule. So, Lochlan decided to eavesdrop on his human counterparts. They did after all have interesting things to share. While in a yard one afternoon the prefect opportunity to eavesdrop came in, a group of engineers decided to take their break not far away from him. They sat down on some old flatbeds and joked around for a while. The oldest man in the group began talking about his past colleague who was a Native American. He recounted all kinds of interesting things his colleague shared. From ancestral meanings to cultural symbols, but then he brought up something strange. Lochlan grew curious and listened in best he could. The engineer asked the others if they ever heard what a “wendigo” was. The two men shook their heads. Lochlan listened in as the man explained to them what it was, and the reason for bringing it up.

The engineer grew serious before beginning, “ a couple years back a rancher went missing out by his home just a good ten miles from the south side of Hennessy. No one knew how he could possibly go missing, he was in touch with the locals and was a very smart man. He knew the wildlife and his homeland well enough to where an animal attack was ruled out. He carried a gun on him all the time to stay safe and no one would want to harm a lonely rancher with not much of anything to give anyway. Robbery and murder was ruled out too, especially after his home was found kept well with nothing out of the ordinary or missing. He just seemed to have vanished along with his horse and dog. The sheriff decided he could’ve left unannounced for private reasons and perhaps he would turn up soon. It wasn’t until a week later a hunter stumbled across what was left of the poor rancher. He was so severely mangled that the only thing that showed proof it was him was his hat, horse and dog. Whatever creature that did that couldn’t possibly be a bear, or even a pack of wolves. Only the rancher looked like something had eaten parts of him. His horse and dog were for the most part untouched, the possibility a rabid bear attacked him was brought up due to the massive claw marks and slashes embedded in his horse and dog. And how badly the man was shredded. But what bear could be that big? A search for whatever rabid bear or sick pack of wolves was put out but nothing was recovered.

No one wanted to admit but they were scared. The scene was so brutal it seemed almost impossible another living thing could do that. It was swept under the rug and everyone tried to forget about it in hopes it would just go away. It seems there’s no answer for what happened right? Well your wrong, that’s were this “wendigo” comes in. Wendigos have an insatiable hunger for human flesh, they crave taunting people and torturing them until giving them a brutal horrible death only to feast on their scared poor souls. They tower above the tallest pine trees, make blood curdling screams, and can strip the flesh from your bones instantly. He wasn’t attacked by a rabid animal, he was murdered and eaten alive by one of those foul beasts. Only something that big and mercilessly brutal could’ve done such a thing. And why eat just the person? An animal would’ve taken all it could get. Dog and horse would’ve been part of the main course as well.”

The two other men who listened in shuddered upon the end of the tale. Lochlan was intrigued but was interrupted by his crew coming to fetch him from his break. He needed to get back to work and couldn’t listen in anymore. He sighed and set off to collect his train, he had plenty of time to ponder what he just heard on his long quiet journey.

Lochlan enjoyed the unexplainable, everything had an explanation. An answer. While the story of the wendigo was interesting to him he couldn’t help but believe it was simply a tall tale. Even with how big and goofy the engine could be, he wasn’t gullible. The only way he’d believe something is if he witnessed it first hand. And as far as he knew he never saw any forest animal that towered over pine trees or had a specific desire for human flesh. But for some reason something inside him wouldn’t let go of it. The story was kept in the back of his mind and not forgotten.

Lochlans first week on Hennessy’s railway was almost over. He already gotten familiar with the area and his routes in the short time he was there. His job went swillingly and it was something he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his days doing. Oh, and no strange gigantic monsters hungry for human flesh appeared. There was one route Lochlan hadn’t traveled yet, and the unkept longer line of tracks was only taken if necessary but no reason was ever really given as to why it wasn’t used. But with only almost a week of experience on the railway he had a lot more to learn and explore.

While Lochlan pulled a long train of cargo with the morning newspaper edition, important mail, and dairy that needed to get to its destination quickly in order to not spoil he came to a stop when he realized his normal route back into Hennessy was blocked. Someone had derailed and a big mess of tar trucks were scattered everywhere. Lochlans engineers grew frustrated and argued with the crewmen in charge of cleaning up the wreck. “Listen pal, it’s going to take all night to clean this mess up. You’ll just have to wait until morning to pass through or go through the south side.” The agitated worker groaned and pointed up ahead to a route Lochlan wasn’t familiar with.

“Well. We most certainly ain’t got time to wait. I’ve got the morning paper to deliver and dairy that will spoil! Come on big feller we’ll just have to go through the south side which will still delay our schedule because some incompetent idiot can’t operate an engine worth Jack shit.” Lochlans engineer growled and made his way back to his cab. Lochlan looked on curiously up ahead at this new route. The grass ahead was severely overgrown, and by the looks of the track no one seemed to have been down it for a decade. His cow plow would come in handy to shove away any overgrowth that littered the track up ahead. Lochlan puffed down the track without incident. He sliced through any overgrowth that littered his path, and was thankful for his bright headlamp because it seemed any lights that lit up the track before had been left not repaired. Lochlan had come upon something odd as he plunged further down the unused route. A herd of deer were stopped close by the tracks, what was odd to him was that the animals didn’t acknowledge his presence at all. It was normal for the forest animals to hurriedly clear the way when any loud engine chuffed close, to the animals an engine was another predator to run away from. But the large herd of deer stood stalk still, their backs turned towards him and their heads cocked up looking into the distance at something. They didn’t dare move and their fear was focused on something Lochlan couldn’t see. Lochlan raised a brow and chuffed by but the deer didn’t move. Even as steam whooshed out and his own massive frame rumbled on the rails shaking the ground. The deer seemed to care less about him. It was one of the most peculiar things he had seen, but he had no idea it was about to get worse.

Tumblr limits posts and I have to many illustrations to do one part. So I’ll have to skeet part two in another separate post. Stick around for the second part if you enjoy so far. Thanks so much for people who’ve stuck around my blog and actually wanted to read my stories. I really really appreciate it.

[insomniamamma]

Liminal: Ezra and Cee

A/N: Contemporary AU in which Ezra becomes his niece, Cee's caretaker after an automobile accident kills his brother, Damon, and costs him his arm. Same AU as "Ferris wheels are for old people." No reader insert character, just Ezra and Cee on the road. Written for @autumnleaves1991-blog​ ‘s Writer’s Wednesday.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma/injury. Drug references in a song. Some language. I tried to research body powered transhumeral prosthetics to get some idea of how Ezra's prosthetic arm might work, but then I fell into an overthinking morass, any inaccuracies are mine.

"Willin'" is written by Lowell George. The version referenced in the story is recorded by Linda Ronstadt.

lim·i·nal /ˈlimənl/

adjective: liminal

   1.relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process.    2.occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.

--"Willin'"--

          "’... been warped by the rain, driven by the snow,’" Cee sings along with the music rattling through the truck's speakers, "I'm drunk and dirty, don't you know. But I'm still willin'..."

        The road stretches long and straight in front of them, harsh, rust-colored land dotted with scrub under the arc of an impossibly blue sky. Ezra asked Cee to compile the playlist. You are my co-pilot for this mission, he'd told her, and as such your duties include, but are not limited to, navigator, snack supervisor and DJ. DJ? Really? Make us a playlist, Little Bird, every adventure needs some good road music. And she had really delivered.          "’...Out on the road late last night, I'd see my pretty Alice in every headlight, Alice, Dallas Alice...’"  Ezra'd expected hours of auto-tuned pop or loud screamy music where he couldn't understand the words, and while there was some of that, Cee had taken her duties as DJ very seriously, creating a huge genre-bending list that all worked together.

     He knew a lot of it. When he was still weird Uncle Ezra and not Legal Guardian Ezra, Cee made a habit of pawing through his vinyl collection when she and Damon would visit, picking a record to play and then peppering him with questions about it. Still, some of the tracks she picked surprised him, like this one, Linda Ronstadt's version of "Willin'" a road trip anthem if there ever was one, but something he didn't expect Cee to be familiar with.  On their first go through the playlist, he'd asked her, where'd you hear this one, Birdie? You remember that movie, The Abyss? It's in that movie, the director's cut though, not the theatrical cut, the theatrical cut is bullshit--and he'd just listened to her go off about all the things wrong with the theatrical cut, the movie itself he barely remembered, something about divers finding aliens underwater, he'd listened and grinned, Cee could go so quiet sometimes. It was always a relief to hear her sound alive and interested, especially after--          "’And I've been from Tucson to Tucumcari," Cee sings and Ezra joins her, "Tehachapi to Tonopah...’" Cee's voice is sweet. Ezra's voice is not, but that's never stopped him. They've got the windows down. The AC started smelling funny a couple days ago, and, in this part of the world, a breeze to evaporate the sweat is just as good as AC. Cee's hair makes a flyaway halo as they sing--          "’Driven every kind of rig that's ever been made, Driven the backroads so I wouldn't get weighed. And if you give me...’" Ezra and Cee smile at each other, suck in deep breaths for the big chorus, "’...Weed, whites and wine, and you show me a sign...And I'll be willin' to be movin'"

--Petroglyph--

       The rust colored forms on pale stone walls peer out at them. Some loom large in the foreground, others recede into the background as if the weathered rock is a portal a window into some other place that lives just below the skin of the world. The back of Ezra's neck prickles. Sometimes the world is thin. Sometimes he feels as if there is a larger world moving and shifting beneath the surface of this one. Sometimes he feels like things are happening out of order, reality stripping and skipping like a loose bicycle chain--        Cee's warm hand creeps into his, "They're a little scary, aren't they?" She says.        "Indeed they are," says Ezra, "One has to wonder what they were thinking. What they were trying to say. Are these gods in these pictures? Or just regular men?"        "Does it matter?" Asks Cee, and he jerks his head to look at her. She is utterly entranced by the red figures and sigils.        "Of course it does," he says, "You don't think so?"        "I mean, it matters, I guess, but what matters more is that people made these," she says, "People like us. People with hands. Not that Ancient Aliens bullshit." Ezra laughs. Cee squeezes his hand.        "C'mon," she says, "let's see more."

--Rest Stop--

       "Hey MOM!," a child's voice snaps Ezra out of his reverie. Cee is in the truck stop, using the restroom and restocking their snack supply. At these stops he fuels up and then gives her some cash and sets her loose inside. And then they stretch their legs and sit outside for a spell. Ezra sits at a picnic bench letting the sun hit his closed eyelids, "MOM! That guy's got a ROBOT ARM! Like WINTER SOLDIER!" Ezra opens his eyes to a little boy, maybe four with a bunch of curly hair and big eyes, pointing at him.        "Daniel!" His mother hisses, and pinches at his arm, "That's rude. I'm so sorry. Danny, what did I tell you about staring--"        "Ma'am? It's quite alright, Ma'am," says Ezra, and hunkers down so he's eye level with the little boy.        "Hi there," he says, "Daniel, is it? I'm Ezra." He offers his right arm, the double hook at the end open, titanium alloy padded with silicone. Daniel solemnly grips the hooks and shakes.        "You've got stickers!" Says Daniel, and for a second Ezra is confused, and then he grins, looking down at the bedecked black plastic of his prosthesis. He stands.        "My girl decided that I must have a sticker for every state we stop in," says Ezra, he stands and smiles at Daniel's mom, "Like an old steamer trunk. I'm afraid I didn't catch your name--"        Cee steps out of the air-conditioned cavern of the truck stop, slits her eyes against the brightness of midday sun glittering up from the concrete, plastic bags full of crap-snacks and energy drinks threaded over her arms. Ezra handed her a couple twenties and told her to go nuts. Re-supply runs have turned into their own sort of game. She always grabs the usual stuff, chips and Snickers bars and Paydays (Ezra has an absolute weakness for Paydays. They don't taste like they used to, he'd griped, but that didn't stop him from eating them), but somewhere along the line, Cee decided to turn this into a battle of the wills. Her unspoken mission is to find something so utterly weird at one of these stops that Ezra won't eat it. So far, she has been unsuccessful. The closest thing was an aloe juice and cucumber drink that smelled amazing, but felt like swallowing cold snot. That one was a draw. She has high hopes for the dill pickle-sriracha gummy worms nestled in the bottom of the bag. The packaging looked like Christmas in hell. More important than the snacks is the plain, flat paper bag she holds.                                                                                     Ezra's near the picnic benches chattering at some lady with a kid. Menace, she thinks, but smiles. Ezra was always the extrovert before, and it's good to him smiling so big and open in the sunshine, making friends with random people at a truck stop. She sees an echo of her and him before, when she and Dad would visit when she was small and he'd tell her some outrageous tale and she'd say Uncle Ezra, you're so weird, and he'd scoop her up and swing her around, planting a prickly kiss on her cheek and saying oh, little bird, you have no idea, and this always made Dad laugh.

       "Oh, Ez-ra," Cee calls, and when he turns, he sees her devilish grin, holding a small brown paper bag up beside her face like it's contraband, "Look what I found."         "So I get to witness the sacred stickering?" Asks Ezra's new friend.        "Indeed you do," says Ezra, "This is Cee. Cee, meet Jody, and that little man playing in the dirt there is Daniel."        "Nice to meet you," says Cee, "Stick your arm out, old man."        "Don't you want to document this momentous occasion?"        "Oh, right," Cee pulls out her phone, "Hey, uh, miss Jody? Can you take some video? I got it all set up."        "Cee is documenting our adventures for posterity," says Ezra. He extends his prosthetic, already covered in overlapping ovoids, enough that they are starting to resemble dragon scales, "What do you think?" Cee and Daniel circle round.        "How bout here?" asks Daniel, tapping just above the articulated elbow.        "That's a good spot," says Cee and peels the sticker from it's backing with a flourish. She smiles up at her phone recording in a stranger's hand, "We have now infiltrated the state of Nevada," she grins, "Evil-doers beware."        "Yeah!" Says the little boy, pudgy hands planted on his hips for the benefit of the camera, "Or Winter Soldier will KICK YOUR ASS!"        "Daniel!"

--Stars--

       Cee wakes in the dead of night, disoriented, a darkness so thick that for a moment she's not sure where she is, and then she hears Ezra's rhythmic snoring off to her side, reaches out and brushes fabric of the tent and lays back, puzzled, muscles pleasantly sore from a day spent scrabbling up and down eroded granite boulders that looked like they belonged on Mars or Tatooine, walking trails and marveling at the strange ecology of the high-desert, so unlike back home. Bad dream? She wonders, probably. She feels her eyes getting heavy, feels herself lulled by Ezra's sleep sounds, snores punctuated by mumbles. Sometimes full sentences, his side of whatever dream-conversation he's having. Probably has no idea he does it--        Cee sits bolt upright, hands clutched in fists against her chest, a high-pitched wail cuts the cold night, a sound like a woman screaming, and another wail threads through the first, so loud it could be right outside the tent, and then a sound like gruesome laughter. The back of her neck prickles and her heart pounds in her throat. She tells herself that it's just some wild animal making noise, some desert bird maybe, but wasn't the California desert the last known home of the Manson family? Maybe not this desert, but still--        "Ezra," she hisses, and he mumbles something incoherent, "Ezra, wake up!" She reaches and pokes him hard, "Ezra!"        "Whazzit birdie?"        "Listen!" The screams rise and fall again like something from a horror movie.        "s'just coyotes," says Ezra, "probly next county over. They don't hurt people, they're just loud."        "You sure?"        "Go back to sleep, Cee."

       "Ezra," He's dreaming, some place with Joshua trees the size of skyscrapers, spiked limbs under a red sky. Cee's with him somewhere in the bloodlight but he can't see her, just hears her calling--        "Ezra!" He blinks awake, the red sky receding. Cee is shaking him.        "Yuh. M'awake birdie,"        "I gotta pee," she says.        "You know where the outhouses are, just right down the trail,"        "I'm not going by myself! Not with those things out there!" Ezra pushes himself up and shakes his head, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He can just make out Cee's form against the faint light of the sky leaking through the tent.        "Alright, just gimme a second," he says.        "I'll get the light,"        "We don't need it," he says.        "Ez-"        "We got night eyes now," he says, "No light pollution out here. You'll see."

       Ezra stands transfixed in the chill dark, head cocked upward. The more he looks, the more he can see. More stars than he's ever seen in his life spread across the vast inverted bowl of the sky, no summer haze out here, no light-wash from streetlights. He is dizzy with it, the vast sweep of the sky, and as he stares and his eyes adjust further, he can see the arm of the Milky Way angled across the black, can actually see the dark band of dust threaded through the silver-blue light. He doesn't hear the outhouse door shutting, doesn't notice Cee beside him until she folds his hand into hers.        "Look up, Little Bird," he breathes and it feels like a prayer, his heart suddenly full, squeezing in his chest, Cee small and warm next to him.        "Oh, wow," she says, barely a whisper, "That's the Milky Way isn't it?" Tears blur the stars and fall hot against his cheeks.        "It is." He looks at her, her face upturned, cheeks and hair frosted in star shine, limning her eyes, her smile. They've lost so much, him and Cee, but they've gained each other, and that's not nothing is it?        "We're so small," says Cee, "Us. People. This whole planet. All of us. We're just a little dot." Ezra smiles in the dark, even as tears dry in his lashes. He squeezes her fingers in his.        "C'mon, let's get back in the tent before we freeze."

--Hoodoo--

       Cee sleeps in the passenger's seat. She'd helped break camp and pack everything up even though it was early for her. They had spent an extra night in Joshua Tree and now had to make up the difference. It's time to go home. There are things he wants to do before Cee goes back to school, things they need to take care of. So he woke them early, promising Cee that she could sleep in the car as long as she needed. She'd helped him get ready, half-peeling a couple candy bars and putting them were he could easily reach.        "You want the playlist?" She asked, "I can get it going."        "Not right now. I want some quiet."          “'Kay," and Cee was asleep before they were to the next mile marker.

       Hoodoos rise on either side of the highway, striated red cliffs against the slowly lightening sky, cut into improbable formations by long gone rivers, thin spires topped with boulders, first glints of sun hitting the higher cliffs while everything else still exists in that liminal space between day and night. Ezra glances over at Cee, hair in a messy halo, face slack in sleep, cheeks sun-reddened and newly freckled, closed eyes moving, dreaming. Ezra thinks of those first days, wracked with pain and trying to navigate the new, dark-shrowded territory of her and him, each of them crippled by loss, each willing to lash out at the other. Ezra thinks of how far they've come since then, uncurling like relaxing fists and learning to be with each other. They drive into the dawn and the first bit of light touches her hair, turning it to fire. She shifts in her sleep, turning away from that first hint of sun. He doesn't know if she's awake or not.        "I love you, Cee."        "Love you to, Ez," she murmurs and settles back into sleep. Ezra looks out over hoodoo country spread red tinged and stark against the rising light, the miles of road ahead. We're gonna be ok, he thinks and means it.