#and reversed his car up hill to say good morning to me and to thank me for it

[raedear]

I came here for blorbo reasons but actually Malta is fantastic, I've yet to go anywhere on this island that I haven't loved immediately. Might actually inform the Maltese tourism board that I'm ready to join.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Do You Want to Keep Another Secret?

Part 2 of Do You Want to Keep a Secret?

Pairing: Dominique Luca x fem!reader

Summary: After the team finds out about Luca's secret girlfriend, he invites them over to share another secret involving a ring and an important question.

Warnings: more of the "book club" joke, Street's a good friend, Duke's a good boy, this is pure fluff

Word Count: 1.6k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

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“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask. You look down to smooth your new outfit and miss Street’s dramatic eye roll.

“You look amazing. Duke thinks so, too,” he replies.

“But-“

“Future Mrs. Luca, it’s dinner with Deacon and Annie Kay, not an audition for the next season of The Bachelor.”

You chuckle before thanking Street. Since you met, he’s become a good friend, and you’re thankful for all he does for Luca. The nerves aren’t only about spending time around people you don’t know well but extend to your upcoming anniversary. You’ve been with Luca for a while, and although you’ve never been happier, you aren’t sure if you show him enough.

“Hey. Wow, you look beautiful!” Luca exclaims as he enters. “Ready to go?”

“Yes, she is,” Street answers, glaring at you. “Don’t let her change again.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about; you’ve met Deac,” Luca soothes. “And Annie is just as kind.”

You nod and lean against Luca’s side. With a wave to Street and a quick pat on Duke’s head, you follow Luca to his truck. He’s a gentleman, so he opens the door and leans in to buckle your seatbelt.

“I won’t tell you how to feel, but you look amazing, and I’ll be with you the whole time,” Luca promises.

Dinner went just as well as Luca and Street said it would. Deacon is kind and funny when he can talk without his team drowning him out. Annie complimented you and your outfit and made you feel like part of the family. There really was no reason to be nervous.

Returning to the truck, you’re in better spirits than when you arrived. Your smile is wide and bright, and Luca can’t keep his eyes off you. He kisses you before shifting the truck into reverse and backing out of Deacon and Annie’s driveway. You watch Luca drive and decide to do everything you can to stay by his side for the rest of your life.

As you walk into Luca’s house, Duke greets you happily, and Street is in the same spot as when you left. Street shakes his head when he sees your smile and murmurs something suspiciously like, “Told you so.”

“I’ve got an early morning, so I have to go,” you say apologetically. “Thank you, Luca. And thanks, Street, for the-“

“Common sense? No problem,” he interjects.

“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Luca asks.

“Our weekly coffee date,” Street answers. “We have to have a little privacy to talk about you.”

Luca looks between you and Street several times before shrugging. “Okay.”

You kiss Luca before walking out of the door. He ensures you’re safe in your car and on your way home before he returns and sits on the couch.

“Streeter, are you up for two more book club meetings?” he asks.

“For what?’ Street inquires. 

“Reading.”

“Welcome,” Street says as he opens the door. “This better not be a waste of our day off.”

“It won’t be,” Hondo answers. “What’s the word, Luca?”

Luca raises a velvet ring box and smiles. “You said we had to talk about it.”

“Then let’s skip to that,” Deacon agrees. “No more period romances.”

“Except for Luca’s. Modern day is still a period,” Street argues.

“That’s enough out of you, playboy,” Hondo jokes. “Lay it out, Luca.”

Luca joins his team in the living room and takes a deep breath. He has their support no matter what, and he knows the plan is good, but he’s nervous.

“Duke’s going to help me,” Luca begins. “I’m going to take her to a scenic overlook in the hills. We went there for one of our first dates and we still use it as an escape. With Duke’s help to carry the ring, I’m just going to wait for the right moment and ask her to marry me.”

“I don’t know, man,” Tan replies. “It could be bigger; like-“

“It’s perfect,” Deacon interrupts. “It means something to you, and her, and your relationship. That’s what is important.”

“She’s going to love it,” Street agrees. “And she will say yes, so stop stressing.”

“There’s just…” Luca says before shrugging.

“If not for you, she’ll say yes to Duke,” Chris teases.

“That wouldn’t surprise me,” Luca says. He finally smiles again, and Deacon decides that you’re the best thing that has happened to Luca.

“Wait! You said two book clubs,” Street remembers. “What’s the next one?”

“I’ll let you know after she says yes.”

“A picnic with Duke?” you repeat.

“Uh, yeah, unless you’re busy,” Luca answers.

He’s glad he decided to call you rather than ask you in person. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, and his nervousness is visible. If you could see him, you’d hold his face and ask what was bothering him, and he’d probably tell you everything.

“That sounds perfect, Luca!”

Luca sighs in relief before offering to pick you up later. He doesn’t want to wait another day to propose; he needs you in his life, even if he does have a minuscule fear, deep down, that you will say no.

“Luca, this is too much!” you say as you climb into the passenger seat. “How are we even going to eat all of that?”

“Why do you think I brought Duke?” Luca jokes.

“Where are we going?”

“The overlook. We haven’t been in a while, and I thought, since it’s a nice day, it’s the perfect picnic spot.”

You smile and lean back in the seat. Duke lays his head in your lap, and you stroke his fur as Luca drives. When you arrive at the overlook, you take Duke’s leash as he bounds out of the car. Luca refuses to let you carry anything except the leash as he takes the oversized picnic basket out.

“I’ll trade you,” Luca says after he lays the blanket down.

Luca covers your hand as he takes Duke’s leash. He has a lot of energy to burn off before he sits (Duke and Luca both). You get comfortable on the picnic blanket and peek into the basket. There’s plenty of delicious food and two books. You chuckle at the long-lived book club joke but close the basket before Luca and Duke return.

“Street said he knew your favorite book, but I listened to your recommendation,” he says as he lowers beside you.

“Doyle,” you murmur as he hands you a book. “You do love me!”

“Open it.”

You obey, and when you see ‘I love you. Life is better with you. – Luca… and Duke’ written on a hand-painted card inside, you look up quickly.

Your surprise at the note disappears as you drop the book. Luca is on one knee, and Duke sits at attention beside him.

“Yes!” you blurt out.

Luca smiles and shakes his head but begins speaking despite your advanced answer. “I love you. Every moment with you makes me love you more, and I don’t want to go back to a life without you. Will you stay by my side now and forever? Will you marry me?”

You move onto your knees and wrap your arms over Luca’s shoulders to hug him tightly. You nod against his neck and repeat your earlier answer as his arms wrap around your waist. Duke barks excitedly and kisses your cheek.

“Hey, that’s my job, Duke,” Luca says playfully before pushing you back enough to kiss you.

When he breaks the kiss, he moves a hand from your waist to retrieve the ring box from Duke’s collar. You gasp when you see the ring; it’s beautiful and perfect, and you know that every time you see it, you will remember Luca and the love between you.

“I love you,” you whisper. “And I can’t wait to marry you.”

“I love you,” Luca replies. “But could we eat first?”

“I guess,” you say, feigning disappointment. “As long as you and Duke stay by my side.”

“Forever,” Luca promises.

“There she is!” Hondo exclaims. He hugs you before he sits for the last and most important book club meeting.

“Congratulations,” Deacon tells you.

“Let me see the ring!” Chris requests before taking your hand.

“I already threw them a party, but I guess we could do another one with their second-best friends,” Street says tiredly.

“I don’t actually know why I’m here,” you admit. “But thank you, all of you, for welcoming me into your family and all of the congratulations.”

“Of course,” 20 Squad says together.

“You deserve it for putting up with Luca and Street,” Chris adds.

“Enough,” Luca calls. “You’re here for those.”

He points to the boxes on the table: one for each person, with their names written on the top. They stand before their personalized boxes and look at one another before opening them slowly.

“Will you be… my groomsmen?” Hondo reads. “Luca, man, of course.”

He moves to hug Luca, and you walk toward Chris.

“What do you say? Please don’t feel pressured to say yes because of Luca,” you say.

She doesn’t answer as she pulls you into a tight hug.

“About time there was another girl around here,” she mumbles before agreeing to be in your bridal party.

Street pushes Chris out of the way to hug you, and you laugh as Deacon, Hondo, Tan, and Chris join him. You are part of their family, and you can’t imagine being any happier than you are now.

“Does this mean I don’t need to keep anymore secrets?” Street asks.

“No secrets to keep,” you answer. “Just make sure you save the date.”

Duke barks and Luca pushes his way past Street to hug you. He takes your hand and taps your ring before he kisses your temple. You’re happy here, and it will only get better as you plan a wedding and spend forever with Luca. 

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Evermore - Eddie's Ending

Series Summary: It's been 7 years since the love of your life left you behind for his career. When he decides to come back, is it too late to start anew? Will you decide to start over or realize what's been right in front of you this whole time?

Just a small note: Thank you all for sticking around with me on this small journey! Enjoy!

Masterlist found here!

18+ Only! MDNI!

Warnings: Reader is referred to as "Peach." AFAB reader. Tad bit of angst. Fluff. Eddie has a reverse prince Albert piercing. Unprotected P in V. Creampie.

Word Count: 5.6K

You were ready to finally face the past and look forward to the future. Deep down, you knew what you wanted. So, why was your heart hammering in your chest? Why were your palms so sweaty?

You turned the car around to head over to a house you knew fairly well. You’d been there a few times since Eddie had moved him out of Forest Hills.

The black sedan he’d rented sits in the drive as you pulled in behind it, shutting the ignition off and taking a deep breath. You sat there a few more moments trying to gather yourself.

Slowly moving from the driver’s seat, your feet felt like chunks of lead, carrying you up the drive. Then slowly taking the steps one by one until you are face to face with the front door.

You hesitantly lifted your fist, knocking three quick times, holding your breath in the process.

The door opened to reveal Wayne, smiling brightly when he saw you standing there.

“Well, hello darlin’.” Pulling you in for a quick hug and stepping aside to let you enter.

“Hi Wayne.”

“Don’t suppose you're here to see this old man,” chuckling lightly. “He’s in the living room, I’ll make myself scarce.” Turning to head down the hall.

“And darlin’, it’s good to see you again.” Smiling once more before disappearing into his room.

You turned the corner, to see Eddie at the end of the couch, feigning interest in whatever was playing on the TV. His profile outlined by the lamp on the table beside him, hair still pulled back in a bun from when he had put it up earlier in the morning, pieces now falling down framing his face.

“Who was it, Pop?” He said, not making an attempt to look your way when you entered.

“Uh, just some girl, but I can tell her to leave if you don’t want to see her.”

His head snapped up at hearing your voice, eyes wide with surprise as he shot up from the couch. He slowly came to stand before you as if any sudden movements might scare you away.

“Peach? What’re you doin’ here?” Looking behind you as if expecting someone else to follow.

“I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d stop by.” You shrugged, with a faint smirk to your lips.

“In the neighborhood, huh? And you came to see little ole’ me? I’m flattered, sweetheart.” He brought his hands up over his heart. “I uh… I’m glad you came by.”

“I think we had a little unfinished business to talk about, uninterrupted this time. Hopefully.” Your smile was warm, like sunshine, filling him with hope once more.

“You want to sit? Want something to drink? Coffee, tea?” He asked.

“I could use some coffee. I’ve got to go back into the Hideout tonight. Some new band is trying out for a regular spot.”

He beckoned you to follow him to the kitchen. Watching him start the pot as you sat down, letting out the smallest sigh as you did.

“New band? Hideout still does live music?” he asked over his shoulder, busying himself gathering some mugs from the cabinet.

“Of course, I didn’t change much about the place. I guess I wanted to keep the nostalgia. The parts that I always enjoyed.”

He sat the mugs down as he took the seat across from you.

“They uh, kind of remind me of Corroded Coffin in a way. They’re young, ambitious. They want to play anywhere people will listen.”

He sipped his coffee listening, biding his time. Hoping that you were here for some other reason than small talk before letting him down gently.

“Peach, I…” “Listen, Eddie…” Both saying in tandem. You let out small laughs in the quiet space, hiding the awkwardness but you were almost certain he could hear your heart from across the table at how fast it was currently beating.

“It’s ok, you go.” Eddie spoke first.

Releasing a ragged breath, feeling his big, rounded eyes on you so intensely made you more nervous than before.

“I just came here to tell you that you were right. I couldn’t just sit there and pretend that I didn’t feel anything between us. I haven’t felt something like that, well, since…” You caught his gaze, he knowingly nodded.

“Eddie, you turned my entire world upside down and shattered my heart. I don’t think you realize just how much you hurt me. You weren’t here to see me at my lowest. I didn’t leave the apartment for a week, and once I did Steve and Robin took turns watching me because I was such a wreck.” Your eyes felt the familiar sting behind them that you had grown so accustomed to in the past few days.

“Peach, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I know it doesn’t make up for it, but I would spend the rest of my entire life trying. I still love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. I know you’re trying to say your piece before telling me that’s it, but please. I am begging you. Just one chance, I’ll show you today and the rest of our lives.”

His big eyes boring into yours, glossy, tears lining his lashes ready to spill at any moment. You hadn’t seen him this vulnerable in a long time. Somehow you could feel he was telling the truth.

“Eddie, we live such different lives now. How would we even make it work? I’m not leaving Hawkins. I can’t leave Maddie.” The only words he focused on were “make it work.” You hadn’t turned him down.

“First of all, I wouldn’t ask you to leave Hawkins, not now or ever.” He dared to place his hand on top of yours, where it sat on the table. You didn’t pull away but turned your palm over so you could curl your fingers into his, pulling him closer. His heart fluttered at the gesture.

“Wayne and I have been talking. I’m not going back to LA, at least not right now. I need a break and a major detox. In case you haven’t noticed, I uh…I need…” He was struggling to say it out loud. Your thumb gently rubbed the tender skin you held, encouraging him to go on.

“Well, it would do me some good to sober up. I’ve been going too hard for too long.” Looking down, as if he were ashamed but you were proud of him. This was your Eddie.

“How about we take this one day at a time? It’s not going to be easy. But it doesn’t mean that I forgive you for everything you put me through. Words only go so far; you need to show me.” You squeezed his hand.

“I can do that. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.” Lifting your hand to his lips, placing a small kiss there. You smiled fondly hoping you’ve made the right choice. A second chance at a love you thought was lost.

“Alright, one day at a time Eddie.”

You sat there sipping coffee and fingers intertwined with his letting the gentle moment sink in. You were doing this; you were ready to try to love again.

“Walk me out? I’ve got to get ready for tonight.”

You both stood, as he placed his palm to the small of your back, guiding you back through the house.

“Hey Eddie,” turning back to him as you walked through the door. “There's this really cool band playing at the Hideout tonight. I could save you a seat. I’ll even have some virgin Pina Coladas ready to go. How about it?”

He grinned wide, “It’s a date sweetheart. I’ll be there.”

You were buzzing with electricity since you had left him, heading straight home to get a little more dressed up for a usual weeknight. You wore dark denim jeans, paired with a simple tank top and your own leather jacket with some old converse sneakers to keep your feet comfy. You kept your makeup simple but added a nice red lip. Something Eddie was always fond of.

The band you had hired brought in more of a crowd than you had anticipated, packing the place. The usuals grumbling about all these “young kids” taking their seats.

You were busy, helping out behind the bar or on the floor, wherever you were needed until your other waitress arrived. Your eyes kept glancing at the clock as it inched its way closer to 7 PM.

The band was set to perform at 7:30, and he would be arriving at any moment. You had roped off the two stools at the end of the bar earlier in the day, the ones directly in front of where your initials were carved what now seems like a lifetime ago.

You heard the commotion before you saw him.

Someone from the crowd shouted, as others joined in. “Holy shit, it’s Eddie Munson.” “It’s really him!” “No way!”

You gave him time, slipping in and around the people clambering to talk to the one and only Eddie Munson, frontman of Corroded Coffin. The members of the band you’d hired finally had their chance, speaking with him briefly, asking advice which he gladly gave but his mind was elsewhere.

His eyes drifted to where you sat, back turned to him. The noise and voices slowly subsided as you came into view.

“Excuse me, boys, I’ve got a hot date. And I’ve kept her waiting far too long.” He clapped one of them on the back as he made his way over. “Have a good set.”

You were sipping your Pina Colada, virgin just as you had told him they would be.

“Hi there, this seat taken?” He asked, coming to stand beside you.

“Well, I’m waiting for some guy but he’s late. I suppose you’ll do.” You grinned, taking another sip of the sugary concoction.

“His loss,” he chuckled out, as he sat.

Your eyes finally found him as you smiled at each other. He had showered, his curls down and around his face and shoulders. He’d left his stubble; it was a good look for him. It made him look older, hiding those boyish features but it was fitting. You were both older now. Your mind wonders how he sees you now.

He scooted over into your space, slotting his legs on either side of you. He smelled of that familiar leather and cigarettes that you had always found comfort in, something reminiscent of home. You could also faintly smell a cologne underneath, woodsy and expensive.

“So, handsome, what brings you in here tonight?” Pushing yourself a little closer still, knee pressing into his thigh as you slot yourself in between his open legs, feeling a little brave, placing your hand on his leg.

You watched his breath hitch, as if it was first date jitters and you hadn’t spent an entire lifetime together, but it was time to get to know one another again.

He didn’t have time to respond. The band cut through the sound system that you had spent a small fortune upgrading a few years ago as both of you looked toward the stage.

“Hey everyone, we’re Punk Rats. Let’s hit it!” It was new rock, in a small town. Something Eddie knew all too well. It usually wasn’t welcome, but it looks as if you made the Hideout a safe place for people like them to play and invite their fans. You were like him in that way, always a soft spot for the outcasts and lost sheep.

The music poured out. Loud and fast paced.

He leaned in close, so you could hear him. “They aren’t too bad.”

“I know, I hired them. Remember?” You laughed. He was so glad to draw that sound from you. Something he thought he’d never hear again.

He slyly watched you, watching them perform with stars in your eyes. He remembered those days you were looking at him up there. He’d never gotten to see you like this, up close.

You reached over and threaded your fingers through his, holding tight, letting the music sway you from side to side. You had missed his touch.

“Hey Eds,” you turned to him, finding his eyes already on you. “I’ll be right back, I’ve to check on something.” You slowly unlatched yourself from him, kissing his cheek.

He nodded, eyes trailing after you, a little sway to your hips as you went weaving through the small crowd. He thought to himself at this moment how lucky he was to be here, and he wasn’t about to let you slip through his fingers. What an absolute fool he was. Young, ambitious but at what cost?

The minutes ticked by, and you hadn’t returned. He checked his watch, looking around nervously until the bartender caught his attention.

“Hey man,” Randy cut through the chatter, “she told me to give you this,” handing him a folded paper.

For a moment his heart sank. You’d changed your mind and didn’t want to tell him. He was getting his payback, and he didn't blame you.

A look of confusion passed his features before he took it from him hesitantly, fingers with a little tremble; from detoxing or nerves he didn’t quite know.

Hey Handsome,

Meet me upstairs. The door is unlocked.

XoXo, Peach

Breathing a sigh of relief, he got up. Making his way across the bar to the front door, pushing his way out into the cool Indiana summer night air.

He looked up at the apartment window. It was dark, anticipation stirring within him as he started to climb the stairs taking two at a time but trying to maintain his cool.

He stopped, should he knock? No that's stupid, you said the door was unlocked.

He held his breath, and slowly turned the knob, pushing as the door slowly creaked open. The only light seeping in from the window.

“Peach?” He called out. Closing the door behind him, letting his eyes adjust slowly to the darkness that surrounded him.

He saw you moments later, silhouette outlined by the same window.

“Every time I come up here, I think about that night. Wondering what I could have done differently.” You gaze steady on the outside world, as he comes up behind you.

He’s well aware that he had the luxury to run away, forget it all. You had to stay, see everything that reminded you of him here in Hawkins.

He placed his arms around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. He radiated warmth but your body erupted in goosebumps from the sudden closeness.

“Is this, okay?” Breath fanning across your cheek, as he spoke.

“It’s more than okay,” wrapping your arms around his.

He nuzzled his face into your neck, breathing you in. You always smelled sweet. Something that always made him think of vanilla and summer days.

He wanted to cherish the moment, the time he had with you as he raised his head up, lips kissing tenderly at your temple.

“God, I missed you so much. And I’m sorry I’m a few years late. An apology that shouldn't even have to be made. I was stupid. Selfish.” He mumbled into your hair.

“Eddie, how about we make some new memories? Replace the ones that I need to forget.” You moved out of his grip so you could face him, as your hands snaked around his waist, meeting the warmth you missed so much laying your head to his chest.

“Yeah, Sweetheart. We can do that.”

You pulled your head away from where it rested long enough to look him over. His gaze immediately bringing you a comfort you so desperately craved from your time apart. His cheeks flushed, tinted the lightest shade of pink. Eyes drifting to his lips. His tongue darted out slightly, wetting them.

“You can make me forget? Remind me of all the good times?” He nodded.

“Kiss me, Eddie.”

You tilted your chin upward, as he crashed his lips into yours. His hand meeting the back of your head, pulling you in, his other resting on your hip.

The moment your lips met, it was desperate and needy. Your hands find purchase on the front of his shirt as you move against each other.

His tongue grazed your bottom lip, begging for entry, silently granting permission as you gently parted them.

All at once, he’s everywhere but it isn’t enough. Hands roaming, feeling any of the exposed skin he could get to. You fervently wish in this moment you could crawl under his skin, desperate to be as close as possible.

You feel a familiar ache between your legs, with an intensity that has you reeling. He pulls you closer, deepening the kiss, pressing in as you feel the evidence of his own growing need against your hip, straining against his denim.

Pulling away slightly, he sucks your lower lip gently before releasing it with a gentle pop. You’re both out of breath, panting. Leaning his forehead against yours, the small breaths being shared in the space between you the only sounds in the room.

“Eds, I need you,” you finally manage to speak.

“I need you too, Peach. Can I please, have you?”

You brought your hands up to gently cup his face. “I’ve waited for what seems like an eternity to have you back in my arms. Please.”

“Wait, is there even a bed up here?” As if he suddenly remembered where you were, and no furniture in the immediate area that he could see.

You giggle and nod, “Yes, Eds. Though I know that hasn’t stopped you before.”

“I had to ask sweetheart,” he leans in close, dropping his voice to that husky tone that has your thighs clenching, “I’d like to fuck you properly tonight.”

You yelp as his hand comes into contact with your ass with a loud smack.

“Eddie!” You chastise him, with a grin.

“Come on, baby,” he gently tapped your ass then, giving you the go ahead.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his narrow waist. Eddie was always strong; years of lugging heavy music equipment had its perks.

His large palms cup your cheeks bringing you even closer, grinding down so you could press your core to his ever-growing bulge making you both moan out with want. He wastes no time, managing to kiss you again and marching you both straight to the bedroom.

He only breaks the kiss a moment to look around once he’d managed to get you both through the doorway in one piece. Though the bed has changed it feels the same. It’s in the same position it was always in. Fitting, he thinks.

He gently moves to the bed, sitting you down with a small bounce as you giggle. Helping you quickly shed your jacket, tossing it haphazardly across the floor as he does the same with his.

He takes your sneaker clad foot and helps ease your shoe off and then switches to do the same with the other. You watched him, scooting yourself up into the pillows. He slipped his own shoes off and made his way back over to you.

Crawling over, he nudged your thighs so he could slot himself between them. His throbbing length meeting your core once again through the layers of still too much fabric separating you from one another.

You arched and moved into him when the rough denim meets your own, but finding enough friction where you craved it the most. You let out a breathy moan, sounding more like a sigh.

It was like music to his ears.

“God, I’ve missed those sounds.” Tenderly moving the hair from your face before caging you in.

His lips once again meeting yours, not as much urgency in the way they moved against yours, but just as much passion taking his time savoring the taste.

He pulled away, your lips chasing his, it only had you pleading once more, “Please Eddie, I need you.”

“I know baby, but I want to take my time. I’ve missed you so much.” He looked directly into your eyes, tears brimming at your lash line, and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Needy baby, let me take care of you.”

He helped you remove your top, kissing down your jaw, then the column of your neck, making his way lower. Tender kisses all the way down your chest, as if reacquainting himself with each part of you. Thumbs brushing over the thin fabric covering your breast, earning him another moan. He moved to unclasp it, freeing you from the confines.

Then moving his lips lightly over each nipple, breath fanning, teasing you. Your head was already getting dizzy, thrown back with pleasure before his tongue licks hot, over your already pert nub while his palm engulfed the other. Switching the motions of his tongue before fully sucking and then lightly biting, making your core throb with need.

“Oh, Eddie,” an already breathless utterance falling from your lips.

Once he felt your breasts had enough attention, his lips began kissing down your stomach, before finally pulling away, easily popping the button of your jeans, bringing his face back down nipping at the top of your panties.

Once again, making you comfortable and giving you an out he asked, “This alright, sweetheart?”

You met his gaze, your own eyes reflecting the same lust he felt.

“Please, Eds.”

He helped you shimmy out of your jeans and panties letting them join the growing pile on the floor.

You spread your thighs for him once again, as his fingers began to trace patterns on your skin, getting closer to where you needed him the most. He moved inward, watching your pussy on full display for him.

“Baby, you're already dripping, and I haven’t even touched you.” He hummed.

He moved his finger to trace your slit. Your hips canting up to meet his touch, desperate for more.

Gently, he parts your lips, brushing his thumb over your clit and sees the way your aching hole clenches around nothing as it pulls another delicious moan from you making it hard for him not to take his throbbing cock out and pound you into the mattress right then and there.

“Fuck Peach, such a need girly. My needy girl.” He says as he lowers himself, head between your thighs, mouth now mere inches from your sopping cunt; breath fanning over your hot flesh as he admires the meal he’s about to devour.

He doesn’t give you time to respond, letting his hot tongue meet your core, painting a stripe from your aching hole, meeting your clit with just the pressure you needed.

“Ahhh, fuck.” You moaned out, gripping the sheets to ground you.

He began swirling his tongue over your bundle of nerves, like an exposed live wire, the coil already threatening to snap.

“God, yes Eddie. Please don’t stop!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.” He speaks into your pussy, drawing your clit between his lips sucking harshly.

His finger draws lazy circles around your entrance, you couldn’t focus on one sensation alone. Everything felt so good.

That same finger began to prod your entrance, sliding in easily, a welcome relief.

He quickly adds another, curling them upward, not missing the way you’re already fluttering around him as he reaches that sweet spongy spot that has you begging for more.

He lifts his eyes, but never removes his mouth from you, as you begin to writhe beneath him, gripping the sheets as you feel the coil within you winding tighter.

His fingers brushing that spot over and over, as he alternated his attention from sucking and lightly nipping at your clit, it finally sent you over the edge. With a cry of his name the coil snaps, sending you into orbit. With stars behind your eyes bursting, all you seem to hear is the blood pumping in your ears and the distant thump, thump, thump of the music from the Hideout below.

He works you through it, drawing it out as long as he could before reluctantly pulling his mouth away and letting his fingers retreat, easing himself up.

He can’t help but admire the way you look so blissed out. Lips plump and kiss bitten; cheeks flushed. You lazily open your eyes to see him looking down at you.

“Come here,” you manage, reaching for him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, bringing him back to your awaiting lips, tasting yourself on his tongue. It has you moaning again, threading your fingers through his hair, trying to pull him closer.

He finally pulls away, breathless, searching your eyes.

“Peach, baby, I’ve got to get my clothes off. If I don’t get inside you, I’m going to combust.” You laugh out, but ease up on your grip, letting him ease aside.

“Uh, that reminds me,” he starts as he sits up, “You got any condoms?”

“I’m on the pill Eddie, I want all of you inside of me.” Biting your lower lips watching his jaw drop.

“You are perfect.” He pecks your lips and moves off the bed.

His shirt goes first, you study his body, more tattoos on his alabaster skin than you were accustomed to. Across his chest and side. You made a mental note to study them later, as the clinking of his belt made you trail lower as he unzipped his pants, watching as he lowered the fabric from his waist, sliding them and his boxers down his legs as they pool at his feet allowing his cock to spring free, just as pretty as you remembered. Thick and long, your eyes follow it upward until something shiny catches your eye at his ruddy tip.

“Eds, what’s that?” You ask, continuing to stare almost mesmerized.

He follows your gaze, as if he’d forgotten himself. There at the head of his cock, a steel piercing is visible.

“Oh yeah. That. Drunken decision but it's hot right?” He states, with a sly grin.

You nod, as he brings his hand to his shaft, taking the pearly bead from his slit, smearing it back down. Teasing himself and you in the process, as he then moves to crawl back between your thighs.

He moves close, chest pressed into yours, as his cock nudges through your slick folds, wrapping your legs around his waist. He nuzzles into your neck as lips ghost over the shell of your ear as he speaks, “And baby, I know you’re going to love how it feels.”

Canting his hips at the last word, his head catching your clit just right, pulling a breathy moan from you.

“Yeah, that's it Peach. Let me hear those beautiful sounds. My beautiful girl.”

He moves his hand to your thigh, gently pushing. You take the hint, spreading yourself wider to him as he holds himself up by your head and his other hand travels between you.

He takes his now aching cock, teasing now long forgotten as he brings his head to your entrance. He slightly nudges inside but looks up to you for a response. Your glazed over expression is almost all he needs, but he waits. You nod, as he begins to push in slowly.

“Fuuuuuck,” he draws out the word.

Your own head now thrown back, chest heaving. Each delicious inch stretches you out.

Finally, bottoming out, he holds for a moment, kissing the side of your mouth as you moaned out once more. The high of him fully seated within you taking over filling you to the brim.

He pistons his hips, pulling almost all of the way out and thrusting back in harder than he intended. He had every intention of taking it slow, relishing the feeling as long as possible.

The slow outward drag of his cock sent a shiver down your spine and ignited a new flame deep within. That steel ring was brushing against you each and every time he thrust in and out relentlessly. It was a new experience, something you had never felt before and it had your mind and body buzzing.

“God, Eddie, you feel so good.”

Your words ignited him, it was almost too much for him to hold back, he thrust a little too harshly as his head kissed your cervix.

“Ohhhh, fuck. Eddie. Please, you can move faster.”

“Yeah, that what my girl needs, huh? Need my cock to ruin you, huh?”

He moves, pulling your thigh higher up on his waist, suddenly punching the air from your lungs with each thrust. You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak.

It was just Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

It felt like a lifetime of waiting and to have him back in your arms felt like a dream.

You reached for him, your nails digging crescents into his back. His pace didn’t let up, he felt like he was everywhere at once, invading all of your senses. Each thrust of his hips had his cock kissing your cervix, every withdrawal had him brushing that place within your walls your own fingers could never reach. Your second orgasm was building with each delicious drag.

“I’m… mmmm… Fuck,” you couldn’t get it out, but he heard your loud and clear. In one motion, he sat up, pulling your hips up with him. The new angle made it feel like he was impossibly deeper. He moved his thumb to toy with your clit, already sensitive from the first orgasm he worked you through.

“Come on baby, give me one more.” He showered you with praise, “I need to feel her. I need you to cum all over my cock. You can do that for me, can’t you baby?”

“Eddie, I…” A new sensation started to build, it had you feeling dizzy. Your orgasm was impending, but this felt different. Intense, building with each rock of his hips and graze of your clit.

“What baby?” He hummed, but it was too late you came harder than you ever have, crying out his name as it washed over you. Your pussy clamped down on him, making it almost impossible for him to keep pumping. A gush of fluid came down around you both, wetting everything in the process.

“Holy shit,” he huffed out, ceasing his movements. “You just squirted all over me. Goddamn, that was so fuckin’ hot. When did you start doing that?”

He draped his body over yours, thrusting slowly, giving your body a reprieve.

“I… I’ve never done that before.” You breathed out, chest still heaving from the exertion.

“I told you that you'd love it.” He chuckled, still balls deep inside you. Though your walls were still sensitive, you used your muscles and pulsed down around him, effectively cutting off his laugh, eliciting his own moan instead.

“Fuck Peach, you dirty girl. You could have just said you were ready,” he huffed, getting back to the task at hand as he rolls his hips back into yours.

“Where’s the… mmmmm… where's the fun in that?”

His pace picked back up; you were able to watch his lean muscles as they worked in time to reach his own release. A sheen of sweat across his forehead, eyes closed as his head was thrown back.

His thrusts became a little sloppy, so you knew he was getting close.

He groaned at your words. “Perfect, you’re fuckin’ perfect.”

A few more thrusts and he was following you.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” he mumbled as he spilled inside of you, your tight cunt milking him for everything he was worth.

He finally stilled and collapsed onto you, chests heaving, both trying to come down from your highs.

He kissed your forehead, withdrawing his softening cock and lying next to you, pulling you over until your back was to his chest and nuzzling into your hair.

You didn’t speak, nothing more needed to be said in the moment. You listened to him breathing until it turned into soft snores. You relaxed into him, letting sleep slowly take you over.

You opened your eyes slowly, scanning the room, reaching over expecting to feel a warm body next to yours.

Instead, you were met with nothing but a cold space. You sat up clutching the comforter close to your chest as your heart rate ticked up.

“Eddie?” you groaned. Waiting a few beats, only met with silence.

Oh God. You grabbed the sheet, wrapping it around yourself, noticing his clothes were gone from the floor.

You raced out into the hall, running into the kitchen. Too crazed to notice the fresh pot of coffee that was brewed or the brown paper sack sitting on the counter with

“Benny's” printed across it.

Turning the corner, you barreled right into his chest.

Woah, baby, where you going in such a hurry?” He laughed but his smile dropped when he saw the worried look on your face, immediately pulling you into his embrace.

“I'm sorry baby,” kissing the top of your head. Realizing in your state what you must have thought. “You looked so peaceful. I didn't want to wake you just yet, so I went out for breakfast to surprise you.”

You were clinging to him. Face buried in his chest, letting yourself relax into his embrace, as he rubbed soothing circles across your back.

"It's ok… I just thought… you weren't there and…” Coming out a little muffled.

“Shhhh, sweetheart. I've got you. I'm not going anywhere. I promise.”

Thinking back to all those years ago, this is what you had wished for. What you needed.

You were both given a second chance at love. It was time to let go of the past and look forward to the future together.

He had you back and he’d do everything to keep you.

In the soft morning light, you had coffee and breakfast in the apartment you once shared, ready to take this one day at a time.

[12yeahiminluvwu]

Bad Enough For You

pairing - pop-punk!jj x pop punk!reader

summary- JJ wants you all to himself, and he’ll do anything he has to to make that happen, even if it means reverting to his old ways. 

word count- 2,265

warning(s)- swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drugs, 

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

From the wings, JJ watched as the girl he had shamelessly obsessed over for months sang her lungs out and jumped around the stage like she owned the place. He could tell that this was her element. The stage was where she belonged. From where he stood, he could see her chest moving up and down as she fought hard to breathe but you wouldn’t know by the way she hit every note like it was second nature to her. He watched the way she got down on her knees, reaching out for the crowd and singing right to them. She was fucking good at this. It was no question why they were the most popular band in the little college town. 

Y/n was somewhat of a mystery to JJ, even after all this time. He couldn’t figure her out, no matter how hard he tried. He watched countless guys come and go, none of them fitting her standards- of which he had no clue what they were. 

He was always nice to her- which was his first mistake. Y/n wasn’t into the nice guy type. Unbeknownst to JJ, she liked her boy, and girls, as bad as they come. Her last boyfriend was a drug dealer from the southside of town who looked like he definitely had killed someone before. She never bothered to ask though, it was just better that way. His second mistake was trying to get her attention. She didn’t give it to anyone she knew wanted it, except for fans on stage. So there JJ was, shit out of luck. It wasn’t until one night after a hopeless encounter that he decided he’d start trying to be someone she would pay attention to. That had been a few weeks ago now. JJ knew how to be an asshole. He’d done it most of his teenage years back home on the island. 

As the band was coming off stage, Y/n waited for the typical “Hey good job out there!” from JJ, but all she got was a cold shoulder. He didn’t even acknowledge her, even if all he wanted to do was spin her around and tell her how amazing she’d been. He had to be the bad guy now, because that’s the only way he’d get to her. She brushed it off quickly and made her way back to the green room, whereas JJ and his boys made their way onto the stage. 

--------

“Anyone know The Band CAMINO?” JJ asked and the crowd erupted in loud chants and screams. The tune to See Through filled the bar and the crowd got even louder. She didn’t know it, but Y/n was the inspiration for the band singing this song tonight. 

Now it was Y/n’s turn to watch from the wings. She kept her gaze on the blond bassist, silently wishing he would stop trying so hard to get at her. 

The air in the bar was damp and smelled like sweat and cheap beer. It was packed wall to wall, for sure violating some type of fire code, but who really cared anyway. The only sound you could hear from here all the way down the block was the live music being played. Lights shined on the boys, illuminating every inch of their skin, making them look like absolute gods. JJ, as usual, had ended up taking his shirt off a few songs into the set, making everyone in the crowd go crazy. Y/n had to admit, the boy knows how to work an audience. He knows exactly what to do to drive them crazy, and if he wasn’t such a kiss ass off stage, she might give him a chance. She just wasn’t into the kind of guys who would drop everything and come running. She liked the chase. She liked feeling like she had to earn the attention of someone, she didn’t like when it came easy. 

“Rebound feeling like a rerun, everything that we've done, funny how it all played out.

You're good at looking at me like I'm see-through but I gotta see you, I shoulda learned by now.” The vein in JJ’s neck was straining as he poured his heart into the song. In that moment, with the crowd roaring and the sweat dripping down his face, he felt like he was flying. He felt invincible, and for a moment- he forgot about Y/n. But only for a moment, because as soon as the next verse fell out of his mouth, her image came flooding back into his mind like a tidal wave. 

“How do I get your attention? How does it feel to always have mine? How do I address this tension? How you're looking through me every time? Got me out here, got me thinking what I would do, got me in my head, got me wishing I was with you. God, I'm wishing I was with you.” Quickly, JJ glanced over to where you stood and before you could notice, his eyes shifted back to the crowd in front of him. 

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

Post gig was always JJ’s favorite time because he got to hang out with his boys and revel in the high that was performing live. The air was still thick from the events tonight but the boys didn’t care. The afterparty had moved from the bar to the band’s shared apartment and Y/n’s band was here too. JJ did his best to keep his gaze off of her, but her smile lit up the whole room, and he couldn’t ignore the way he felt when she was around. But he knew that if he showed any of that at all, it would send her running for the hills. 

There she was, standing with a drink in her hand, laughing with the lead singer of his band and driving him crazy. He tried to focus on the music playing and the conversation he was having about how good Ashton Irwin’s solo music was, and how his album is going to be a huge hit, but he found himself drifting back to her every time. Excusing himself, he walked into the kitchen to make himself a stronger drink. He stopped cold when he saw who was standing at the counter, back facing him. Shaking his head, and ignoring the hitch in his throat, he brushed past her, reaching around the counter to find what he was looking for. 

“You’ve been pretty quiet lately Maybank… any particular reason?” The girl asked from beside him. He looked over at you quickly, simply shrugging his shoulders. That was all he gave you, hoping it would be enough to keep your attention a little longer without looking too interested. You gave him a once over before continuing on with your night. 

JJ had left you wanting more, believe it or not. You suddenly wanted to know why he detached himself from you. Was he losing interest in you? Or using reverse psychology to get your attention. Either way, it made your mind race. The more he drew away, the closer you wanted to get. This was the chase you wanted. 

By the end of the night, you were drunk off your ass and had somewhat attached yourself to JJ. He paid you no mind other than keeping you from falling over every once and awhile. 

“Do you need a ride home?” He asked as people started to clear out and head home. He hadn’t ended up drinking as much as he thought he would, and was completely sober. 

“Probably…” You giggled and laid your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his middle, attempting to pull him closer to you. On the inside, he was freaking out. His heart was permanently beating at a million miles an hour, his palms sweating and breath caught in his throat, but to anyone looking your way, he looked cool as a cucumber. No one would be able to tell that he was freaked out by the girl of his dreams hanging off him like they were in love. 

JJ looked around and saw that your whole band had left and that you two were the only ones left in the living room. 

“We should get you back home…” He trailed off, walking the two of you over to the couch and sitting you down so he could grab your things before helping you back up and out to his car. He reached across to belt you in and gently shut the door. Starting the car, the quiet hum of Bad Enough For You by All Time Low filled in the silence between the two of you. 

“You know…” Y/n started to say and JJ glanced over at her before returning his gaze to the road. After looking at her ID for her address, he made his way through the streets. 

“I actually think you’re really attractive, but you made it wayyy too obvious that you had a thing for me so I pushed you away… because it scares me when people show an interest in me… be-because usually people just leave in the end anyway…” 

JJ was quiet for a moment. Had you just admitted that you liked him? 

“Why, don’t we talk about this tomorrow when you’re sober?” He asked, parking his car in front of her apartment. Coming around the side of the car, he helped her up out of the seat and walked her to the door, grabbing her keys from her to open the door. 

“Will you stay?” She slurred and he hesitated. 

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea Y/n…” 

“Please? We don’t have to do anything, I just don’t want to be alone when I wake up…” The look on her face was enough to make him do anything she asked him to. His heart melted and he nodded, walking behind her, hands intertwined, to her bedroom. She shimmied out of her skinny jeans and took her bra off under the baggy band tee-shirt that had been tucked into the pants, plopping down on the queen mattress. JJ kicked off his docs and shimmied out of the jeans he’d been wearing before climbing into bed next to her. She tucked herself right into his chest like it was her own little spot and was out in seconds. JJ, on the other hand, took a little longer to fall asleep. He started down at you, your cheek pressed up against his chest, hair all over the place. He’d never seen you look this peaceful, not even on stage. Slowly, he brought his hand up to brush the stray hairs out of your face.  He just couldn’t get his mind to shut off. But eventually, his eyelids fell heavily closed and sleep took over him. 

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

When morning came, you had trouble remembering where you were, and who you were with… Looking up at the person you were laying a slight rush of releifewashed over you, but then you started to worry about what happened last night and lifted the blanket in hopes that your clothes, and his, were still intact. Thank fuck, they were. 

You felt JJ take a deep breath and closed your eyes, pretending to be asleep still, doing your best to ignore the pounding headache that resided at the base of your neck. You could tell JJ had a mini freakout, similar to yours, when he opened his eyes. But then his memories of last night came back. Yours came back in pieces, while his came back in a rushing wave. You remembered suddenly wanting all of his attention and doing your best to get it, until your bandmate kept handing you vodka sodas and before you knew it you were hanging all over him the rest of the night. If that wasn’t embarrassing enough, you somehow got him to stay the night with you. And now here you were, tangled in your bedsheets. 

Slowly, you looked up at him, trying to gage the situation. He looked down at you, the smallest hint of a smile ghosting across his lips. You found yourself staring at them. The feeling of his fingers trailing up your arm sent shivers down your spine, and heat rushed to your cheeks. 

“Uh, hi…” You trailed off, absentmindedly tracing shapes along his abs, sometime last night his shirt had come off, leaving him in his boxers. 

“Hey.” He smiled. His voice was deep and scratchy due to the lack of use overnight, his nerves didn’t help any. 

“Coffee?” You asked after a pause and he chuckled lightly, nodding his head. You nodded back at him before pushing yourself out of bed and making your way to the kitchen. JJ wasn’t too far behind you, taking a seat on the other side of the island. 

“So… last night was interesting…” He began, trying to get the conversation flowing. 

“Yeah, uh. I was pretty fucking drunk so. I don’t really remember anything I said…” You admitted from where you stood at your keurig. 

“Well, to sum it up, you told me to stop being such a try hard and you think I’m hot.”

“That sounds like something I would say, yeah.” The two laughed and another moment of silence fell on them. 

“Well, I would be down to go out if you are…?” She said and JJ did his best to contain his excitement. 

“Yeah, that’d be cool.” He said and she smiled, realizing she’d been right about him just faking the hard ass act to get her to like him.

[themuseic]

Only Fools (Chapter 4)

Fic Summary: Sent to Boone County, West Virginia on an assignment, you find yourself engulfed your work. How could you possibly find time for anything else? Even if ��anything else” includes the tall, kind, and handsome bartender from down the road?

Word Count: 1.5k

Read Chapter 3 here.

Read here on AO3.

Warnings: Pining.

Author’s Note: Thank y’all for being SO patient waiting for this update! I have a pretty busy weekend ahead of me, so I wanted to make sure I got something out tonight. As always, thank you for reading! 

Gravel and dirt crackled underneath the tires of your car as you pulled up to the address written on the napkin you clutched in your hand. The trailer was humble but looked like it was cozy. It wasn’t a mansion, but a mansion didn’t seem like it would fit the gentle giant that you had met. 

On the porch out front sat Clyde, reclining in a wooden rocking chair. He had one leg propped up on his knee with a book resting in the fold of his leg, his prosthetic pressing the spine open. In the other hand, he held a speckled tin mug, filled with coffee so hot, you could see the steam rising from it as you walked towards him. It looked like a teacup in his hand. The shatter of a stick as you stepped on it alerted him to your presence, and he set the mug down on the patio table next to him as he stood to greet you. “Mornin’ darlin’,” he called, stretching his arms to the sky. The dark blue short-sleeved shirt he donned pulled up with his shoulders, revealing a thin strip of skin just along the waist of his pants. You felt your cheeks warm as you spied a patch of dark hair just above the button of his jeans but snapped yourself out of it as the shirt fell back into its rightful place. 

“Morning Clyde. You have a lovely home,” you smiled to him, eyes roaming the exterior of the house. 

He rubbed the back of his neck and his pout seemed to deepen, an expression you were beginning to realize he wore regularly. “S’alright. Needs some fixin’ up,” he gestured to peeling paint spots on the door, and you waved your hand. “Nothing a coat of paint can’t fix!” He smiled sheepishly back at you. “Well,” he stopped to take a final swig of coffee. “Wanna get headed out?”

~~~

One thing that you never tired of was how alive the forest remained, no matter the season or time of day. 

Birds called to each other across valleys, the open skies filled with their song. The air glinted with flecks of particulate that caught on the sunshine filtering through the trees. The foliage that shaded the forest had begun to flush deep golden hues since the first time you had trekked through the hills, and the leaves that had been shed already crunched underfoot. 

You had mentally prepared yourself to have to push to keep up with the long-legged Clyde, but he had surprised you. He moseyed along, moving with purpose but without haste. He didn’t drag or dawdle, but seemed to simply be enjoying the sights and sounds of the forest, just as you were. You found yourself sneaking glances at him as you strolled next to each other. It was difficult not to, especially when his profile was so easy to melt for. You felt your cheeks warm as you watched him move. He was almost bearlike, plodding through the forest with purpose, like he owned it. You could tell that Mellie’s words rang true - he was comfortable in these woods. He knew them. 

Caught up in the sight of him, your toe caught on a hunk of wood and you stumbled. Clyde’s arms were out to catch you before you even had a chance to process what was happening. A feeling akin to an electric shock shot through your body, originating from where your skin brushed against Clyde’s frame. “Sorry darlin’,” he muttered. “Shoulda warned you ‘bout that log.” As you righted your footing, you laughed, elbowing his side lightly. “Aren’t you supposed to be my guide out here?” Clyde’s ears flushed and he suddenly became hyper-focused on a single point on the forest floor, but he chuckled softly. “I’ll let you know ‘bout any other obstacles we got comin’ up.” He glanced at the foliage around you, studying the rocks and layout. “Actually,” he rubbed at the junction of his prosthetic and upper arm. “I think the area was just ‘round that boulder up there,” he gestured forward with his right hand, point to where the trail wrapped around a spire of boulders. Your heart leaped at the prospect of being so close to making actual progress on your assignment that you broke into a brisk jog, leaving Clyde startled. 

As you rounded the boulder, your eyes were drawn to the area of scattered remains just off to the side of the trail.You knelt next to the tufts of hair and scattered bone shards, surveying the remains and jotting down notes in your bright yellow field journal. “It’s perfect,” you called back to Clyde. “If the cams don’t see something here, I would be floored.” A quick survey of the area was all you needed to decide on your camera locations, and you bent down to start the set up.

Ruffling through your backpack, you pushed aside the copious snacks you had brought along and pulled out your cameras, glancing up to Clyde where he watched you, leaned against a tree. You extended one to him. “Want to help me set these up?” you asked, eyebrow cocked up. He stared down at your hand for a brief moment before moving towards you, his right arm extended. He turned the machine over in his hand, running his fingers over the edges.  “Now, where d’ they have to go?”

~~~

With Clyde helping you, set up was both a breeze and sheer torture. You sped through the cameras and with the added help of Clyde’s towering height, they were placed much higher than you could accomplish yourself. But each time you both grabbed for a zip tie and your fingers brushed or he moved up behind you to help you tinker with something just out of your reach and his chest brushed against you, you could feel your heart clench and your cheeks warm. You tried to keep distance between the two of you, but it was all for naught. No matter how hard you worked to quell the butterflies that fluttered around your stomach when Clyde was near you couldn’t quite shake the feeling. 

The brisk hike back helped you blow off some steam and get some physical space from him. You determined that if you hugged the far edge of the trail, you could keep a good berth without straying too far. It was impossible, however, to escape talking to him. Each time he opened his mouth to speak, an indescribable feeling shot through your body, straight to your toes. It was easy, chatting with him, but you took care to not ask too much about him, for fear of falling harder. You kept it to things about the woods.

“So, do you hike these woods much?”

“Yes’m. Easy for me to come back out here, what with it being right behind my trailer,” Clyde hummed. “Good place to come think, y’know?” You nodded sympathetically. “Clyde, I know just what you mean.”

~~~

You found yourselves back at his trailer much faster than you anticipated. Coming to a halt right in front of his porch, the pair of you turned to face each other. It was quiet, each of you waiting for the other to start. With a stretch, you began, “Well-” but Clyde spoke at the same time. 

“Wanna come in for a pop?” Clyde batted his eyes at you, his head slightly tilted in question. You sucked a quick breath of air in through your teeth and chewed at the inside of your cheek. His warm brown eyes bore into you, and you were a hairs breadth away from saying yes before the seemingly rational part of your mind pushed in. “No,” you sighed, “thank you though. I think it’s probably best I head back to the hotel.” 

“Oh.” Clyde nudged a rock absentmindedly, eyes focused on the ground. “S’alright. I probably got some stuff I should be doing anyhow.” Your heart ached to turn him down, yet again, but you reminded yourself it was for his own sake. Not yours. “Maybe we can come back out to collect the footage together in say, a weeks time?” 

Clyde huffed, still pouting and his face downturned. “Yeah, that would work alright.” A beat of silence passed. “Alright then. I’ll text you about details soon. Maybe catch you at the bar?” A small smile threatened to upturn his lips but didn’t quite come to fruition. “‘Course darlin’.” Clyde’s eyes met yours. There was something behind his eyes, an emotion you couldn’t quite place. Maybe an emotion you didn’t want to place. If you didn’t know how he was feeling, you could take some of the guilt for making him hurt in any way. “Have a good weekend Clyde,” you said, bordering on timidness. “You too darlin’.” 

As your car reversed away from Clyde’s trailer, you stole another glance at him. He remained in the same place you had left him, fidgeting with the stone and turning it over between his feet. Clyde glanced up at you, and nodded once. You waved your goodbye, a sympathetic smile edging it’s way onto your face before you pulled back out onto the road. You could see that Clyde stayed rooted to the spot until he disappeared out of your rear view window. Pressure from the breath you were holding started to mount in your chest, and you released it in a long, low stream of air. “Fuck.”

Taglist: @mind-p0llution @thedivinemissm @clydesducktape @finn-ray-nal-beads @ladygrey03 @desiraypark @1800-fight-me​ @aloneandsleepless​

[yootaesowlwrites]

Requested by: Izzy_xxx24

Request: Can I have this one with either Carlos or Daniel please

AU Prompt: D16- Mafia AU - I knew you were too perfect, of fucking course you had to be the leader of the mafia. of ALL things, the leader of the mafia?

A/N: So, I was going to take a nap yesterday afternoon, but then I scrolled through my phone looking at my notes, and just got so inspired, I think I might have gone a little overboard.

Warnings: Guns, Blood, Death, Shock, Fear, Horror, Possessive Carlos, Jealous Carlos.

Word Count: 2.4K

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(Y/n) sat at the bar in the night club that Carlos owned, he was talking to somebody about some sort of business while she waited for him to finish, she had no idea what kind of business and why it had to done at his club, but she was becoming bored while waiting for him, somebody walks up to her with one thing in their mind, everybody at the club knew not to flirt or talk with her, but now and then a new person would find their way into the club and they try their luck and night was no different, a guy new to town decided to visit the popular night club and saw (Y/n) sitting alone by the bar, and just like every other man, he thought she was single and looking for a quick fuck.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks, she could hear the confidence in his voice.

“No thanks.” (Y/n) mutters, Carlos had told her that he was the jealous type and she had witnessed it a few times when she was left alone at the bar while he conducted business, she was always told it was promotion business, she had no idea that he was a Mafia boss.

“Oh come on, one drink.” He says, thinking that she was just playing hard to get.

“I said, no thank you.” (Y/n) says as she turns her head to look at the guy, the bartender could see Carlos approaching the bar and knew by morning the man’s body would be found by the side of the road.

“Don’t be such a bi-“ He begins but was quickly cut off by Carlos.

“Finish that sentence and see what happens,” Carlos says, (Y/n) froze in her spot as the man turns around to look at Carlos. “Go on, I dare you to finish it.” The man had no idea who he was dealing with. “What were you about to call the lady?”

“A bitch.” He says and chuckles, Carlos chuckles as well but (Y/n) could hear how fake it was, she glances at the bartender and saw he had turned away.

“A bitch huh?” Carlos asks, his voice sounding calm, (Y/n) turns around in her chair, her eyes silently pleading with Carlos.

“Carlos, please.” (Y/n) whispers.

“No,” Carlos says harshly. “I will not let this man or any other man call my girl a bitch.” The man stood from his seat.

“Look, man, she was sitting here looking lonely, I was just keeping her company.” The man says, thinking he was going to talk his way out of trouble.

“Company?!” Carlos says loudly, the music in the club cuts off and everyone turns to the bar. “Did everyone hear that? This idiota was keeping my girl company!”

“It’s not such a big deal, man.” He says. “If anything, she’s asking to be fucked in her tight little dress.” If wasn’t silent before, it became silent now, nobody moved and nobody said anything, the regulars already knew that Carlos owned the club and if they disrespected him or (Y/n), you were as good as dead, Carlos’s henchmen made their way to the bar and grabbed the man by his arms harshly. “Hey, what the hell? Let me go!” Carlos takes a step closer to the man.

“You dare come into my club, drinking my expensive shit, looking at those women on the pole,” Carlos says, he points to the pole dancers on stage. “Disrespect my girl, disrespecting me in the process.” Carlos’s gripped the man’s jaw, digging his fingers into his cheeks. “You’re going to learn.” Carlos pushes the man back, but due to his henchmen holding him the man’s head snapped back. “If you can’t keep it in your pants, you don’t need it, do you?” The man’s eyes widen in shock. “Llevarlo al sótano.” His henchmen nodded their heads and dragged the man out of the club and down to the basement, not that (Y/n) knew what would happen to the man, or where he was being taken, she always thought they were just getting kicked out of the club and banned. “Darling.” Carlos looks at her, he pushes a few strands of hair out of her face. “He didn’t harm you, did he? Assault you?” (Y/n) shakes her head.

“No.” (Y/n) whispers, his hand caresses her cheek as the music switched back on and the noise slowly came back.

“Do you want me to take you home?” He knew that she didn’t like being at the club, he just hadn’t realized it was because of all the men hitting on her and it ending in a scene with the man being dragged away.

“Yes, please.” (Y/n) says, she stood from the chair at the bar and Carlos removed his blazer and draped it over her shoulders, she pulls it closer to her body as Carlos looked at her dress, it wasn’t as tight as the man had indicated it was, and neither was it short, it fitted her perfectly and ended above her knees, Carlos looks at the bartender.

“Diles que volveré pronto.” Carlos says, the bartender nods his head leaving his post to go tell the henchmen that he would be back later to take care of the man tied in the basement, Carlos wraps an arm around her waist pulling her a little closer to him, they walk out of the club and the night's cold air hits them. “Chilly?”

“A little.” (Y/n) says, they were walking towards his black sports car.

“I’ll turn on the heater when we’re in the car,” Carlos says, (Y/n) nods her head as a drunk man stumbled towards them.

“HEY, BIG MAFIA BOSS!” The drug man yells out, Carlos knew the man, he owed him money after loaning 5.5 million two months back. “I DON’T OWN YOU SHIT!” The man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gun, (Y/n) gasps as the man aims it at Carlos.

“You loaned 5.5 million from me, are you here to repay me?” Carlos asks, the man pulls the trigger missing Carlos by a meter as he stumbled trying to stand still, the loud gunshot echo’s in (Y/n)’s ear before a loud pitch sound replaced the sound, Carlos unwraps his arm from around her pulling out his own gun, he aims it at the man and shoots him in the head, (Y/n) couldn’t hear anything around her, but she saw everything, Carlos had just killed a man in front of her, he looks at (Y/n) seeing the horror and shock on her face, his henchmen ran out of the club to see what was going on and saw the drunk man lying dead on the ground. “Take care of that.” Carlos orders as he looks at them, some of his men rush towards the body to take it away while Carlos turned his focus to (Y/n). “(Y/n)? (Y/n)?” Her hearing was slowly returning to her. “(Y/n)?” He placed his hand on her shoulders hoping to gain her attention, as soon as he touched her, she let out a loud scream.

“NO!” (Y/n) screams pushing his hands away from her. “DON’T TOUCH ME!” She gasps for air. “OH MY GO-“

“(Y/n).” Carlos softly says.

“YOU JUST SHOT A MAN!” (Y/n) gasps, her breathing becoming short and fast. “OH GO-“ She stops as she realizes the man had aimed his weapon at Carlos. “He was going to shoot you.” Tears build up in her eyes as fear and horror hit her.

“(Y/n), darling, let me explain,” Carlos says, she was trembling with fear. “Go get her some water!” Carlos orders one of his men, one of them runs into the building to retrieve the water. “Look at me, look at me, darling.” (Y/n) slowly looks up at him, her vision becoming blurred. “Calm down, take in a deep breath.” she continued breathing in and out rapidly. “Come on, take in one nice deep breath.” (Y/n) opens her mouth sucking in the cold night air. “That’s it, now blow it out slowly.” She blew it out but as slow as he was hoping. “Do it again.” She takes in another deep breath and blows it out, the henchman arrives with a bottle of water and gives it to Carlos, Carlos opens the bottle and holds it out for her. “Here, drink some water.” She takes the bottle and brings it closer to her mouth spilling some water as her hands still shook, she takes a sip from the cold water.

(Y/n) looks down at the bottle before taking another sip from it, Carlos turns to look at his men. “Cuida esa cosa en el sótano.” He instructs, Carlos wraps an arm around her and guides her to his car, he opens the door and helps her in, putting on her seatbelt as well, he walks around the car and climbs in as he takes out his keys, he pushes them into the ignition starting the car, he reverses out of the parking area and drives down the road, he could see that she was still in shock and decided that she shouldn’t be alone for the night. “I’m just going to stop at your place, pack an overnight bag for you.” (Y/n) slowly nods her head, her mind still replying the horrifying scene over and over in her head.

Carlos enters her apartment and looks around for a bag, he finds her gym bag and takes out a couple of shirts and pants from her closet and pushes it into the bag along with underwear and bra’s, he enters the bathroom and finds her bathroom bag, he packs her toothbrush and toothpaste into the bathroom bag before pushing it into the gym bag, he looks through the drawers and pushes her hairbrush into the bag before leaving the bathroom, he enters the living area and picks up her phone charges, pushing it into the bag as well, he zips the bag closed and leaves her apartment, locking it behind him, He returns to the car seeing (Y/n) still in the passenger seat slowly falling asleep as the initial shock slowly passed, he climbs in pushing the bag to the back.

“Are you still all right?” Carlos asks, (Y/n) nods her head and Carlos drives away from her apartment building and towards his mansion at the top of the hill.

Carlos parks the car at the front of the entrance seeing his men waited for his arrival outside his mansion, he cuts the engine and climbs out of the car.

“Get the bag.” Carlos orders as he walks around the car, he opens the passenger side door and undoes the seatbelt and carefully takes her out of the car, he enters the mansion and walks up the stairs to his bedroom, he lays her down on his bed and picks up the blanket that was draped over the bench at the end of his bed and throws it over her, her bag was left outside the bedroom door by the henchmen knowing that they weren’t allowed to enter his room, Carlos walks towards the door and picks up the bag bringing it into the room, he puts it on the bench and looks at her, she had fallen asleep during the ride to his house, he admired her for a moment before turning away to leave, he knew that he would have a lot to explain when she woke up, he was about to leave when he heard her mumble something, he turns back to the bed and saw her looking at him. “Could you repeat that?”

“I said, I knew you were too perfect to just be a night club owner.” (Y/n) says, Carlos chuckles as he pushes his hands into his pockets. “I mean seriously.”

“What part was too perfect?” Carlos asks.

“Everything.” (Y/n) says. “I should have realized it sooner.” She pushes herself into a sitting position and runs her hand through her hair, pushing them back only for more hair to fall into her face, Carlos smiles watching her, he wanted to push them back but knew it might be better if he stayed where he was, he had no idea how she would react if he would take a step closer to the bed, she brings one of her legs to her chest as she pulled the blanket closer to her, she looks up at him, for a second he could see conflict in her eyes. “Of fucking course, you had to be the leader of the Mafia!”

“I should have told you sooner.” Carlos begins, but she quickly cuts him off.

“No, no, you should have told me when we met!” (Y/n) says louder. “I mean, of ALL things, Carlos, The leader of the Mafia?” She had no idea if she was being brave or digging her own grave, but she would have to find out.

“Do you want anything to drink? Or eat?” Carlos asks, (Y/n) didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry or do both.

“I saw you kill a man, I found out you’re a Mafia boss, and you offer to get me food and something to drink?” (Y/n) asks in disbelief.

“We have much to talk about, I thought you’d like to have something to eat and drink while we do,” Carlos says, (Y/n) brings both her hands to her face, covering it, she gnawed on her bottom lip as she thought for a moment, she uncovers her face to look at him.

“I’m not getting out of here anytime soon, am I?” (Y/n) asks.

“You’re free to leave, but I’d prefer if you stay the night,” Carlos says. “You experienced a lot tonight.” (Y/n) nods her head.

“Then I guess food would be nice, and a warm drink as well.” (Y/n) says, Carlos nods head and turns to leave. “And then we can talk, if you really feel like you need to explain yourself, you can…” she trails off, he turns to look at her. “But you’re the leader of the Mafia, me? I’m an ordinary person.”

“I assume you want to end our relationship?” Carlos asks, he knew how this could end, she could walk away and live her life normally, or she could stay and possibly get killed by his enemies.

“I should.” (Y/n) states. “I really should, but you’re the first person that has ever made me feel safe, even though I’m probably in more danger than ever.” Carlos nods his head. “We’ll um, discuss it later.” She runs her hand through her hair again. “After you bring me some food and hot chocolate.” A faint smile appeared on his lips, there was still a chance.

[soranihimawari]

Shatter

A story in several parts:

tw: reader chan’s sibling is a toxic force to be reckoned with; officers mentioned in later parts (civil servants for young adults); mentions of accidents and scarring [both emotional and physical]; young adult 18+ for strong and suggestive language 

word count: 6.8 K

tagging @oikawa-obvs​ @m0nstergeneration20xx​ @smolbludandelions

the characters and other tie in works: 

seijoh 4: oikawa, iwazumi, hanamaki, mattsun

spin off of the Running at 6a.m. feat. hanamaki and his s/o [plus s/o family]

Throughout this story, mattsun & q learn how important the actions of others does not define a set path.

Next >>

I.

“If I get one you like, you can have it,” you say with a wide smile. You still remember the third day of the last month of the year. You were nearly on the cusp of being eighteen within a few short weeks. You had heard a few weeks prior that one of your friends from middle school had moved to across town once her relatives agreed to taking her in during the summer leading into your respectful third years. Recently your were surprised your friend was so openly affectionate toward a certain strawberry blonde. You  would tease her saying that she was insane for having him wake her up at six in the morning during one of your late night voice calls.

“Well, Makki-kun is part of our school’s volleyball team,” she says. You sigh because your friend is right. “Besides aren’t you still interested in getting your hands a little dirty? I’m in serious need of my right hand mechanic to give me a hand running a few diagnostics…”

“I’ll clear it with Naka-one,” you say. “You know how much my sister worries.”

“Says the woman with the muscle memory of a saint,” your friend’s voice is singing sweetly into the receiver. “Besides, I think I can’t keep hiding my best friend away from those giants.”

“I suppose you’re right. Meet me at the station on Saturday, ok?”

“You got it. I can finally prove to Makki-kun’s friends that I do have other friends.”

II:

[Saturday//Ice Cream & Journals\\]

Winter was no joke as she briskly shared her wind across the neighborhood you found yourself visiting. You had arrived not too early in the mid-afternoon; you had an overnight Hershel bag with your various journalistic tools stacked in according to importance. You were a designer by instinctual honing skills whereas your friend was a hands on mechanical genius in her spare time. The two of you used to race up and down the hills of your childhood streets. Your drive to inspire others was something your sister had maintained with a skilled hand, but you were defiant against the dainty life she was grooming you to try to emulate. The argument reaches its pinnacle the night before you were supposed to be leaving to visit your friend:

“Your hobby is just that! A hobby! You can’t keep losing more hours of sleep over a career our parents didn’t think suitable for a teenager like you!”

Your markers container was the closest thing to your sister’s hands and instead of strangling you, she knocks over the matte boxes you so ideally spent hours recataloging. You say nothing, that is until those hands of hers reach for the journals you kept your portfolios of car designs is in her hands. 

“Don’t!” was the last word you were able to yell before the sounds of tearing roars into your eardrums. You are left alone collecting the shreds of your dreams on to the kitchen table. Your sister was as mad as a hatter, but you were too. If her madness only saw the way you clung to the last bit of your individuality like it was a godsend. 

So in the morning, you send a message to your friend who meets you at the train terminal. She dons sunglasses and extends a pastel jacket to you; the jacket has your nickname stitched on it with the sigil of a craftsman:

“I got your message. Man, you sister is really fucked up,” she says. 

“I know,” you retort. 

“You even cut your hair into a more asymmetrical cut. It looks good on you Q.”

Q is for Quantum. Your parent who birthed you chose that perhaps having born two daughters roughly seven years apart was not the best idea, but alas, here you were still wandering the corner of the outskirts of a city close to the palisades your host lives in.

The mod scarf you brought with you is wrapped around your neck in a double knot. The rest of your winter attire is kept simple in the various hues of indigo and splashes of cerulean pearls. Your best friend, you notice, is a bit more tan than before, but her ever present pizazz shines through like it always does. Women can be anything they set their minds to so long as they have the right know-how. 

“I have the guys meeting us up at the ice cream parlour not too far from here,” she says stifling an amused laugh when you scrunch your nose in a slight snarl. “What? You did want to meet the person I’m dating after all. And not to worry, this is only a small gathering.”

Your snarl subsides only to remain as neutral as possible. You nod as your friend rounds the corner of a children’s park across from the ice cream parlour bells chime when the door is pulled open by other patrons.

“Thank you,” you and your friend say walking through the open door which automatically closes behind you both. Your eyes are averted for a moment toward the glowing holographic menu cards above the cashier. The ice cream parlor is paired with an adjoining coffee bar as you take a look around. Your friend has a nickname too and the moment you hear a subtly calm voice call out to her, you realize you recognize the voice (from the photos she sends you, you know their names only as ichigo no kori, cinefile, pretty boy, and…) 

“Oh look, they’re all on time for once,” your friend says as she takes the lead with you close behind. When you reach the table, you unwrap your scarf from your neck.

“Makki, your girlfriend brought a friend,” the cinefile says. His winter attire is typically laid back as far as you could see; he donned a hoodie under his jean jacket and matching slacks. The person to his left, is the pretty boy. Apparently he was the aforementioned princely type who was more popular and it clicks in your brain why: Seijoh has a reputation for being a powerhouse. Then your eyes shift to the strawberry ice haired neighbor you were told so much about from several text conversations you had had. 

“The chisana josei has a right to bring whomever she likes, Iwazumi,” the baritone voice is curious as he eyes you quietly. 

“Of course she does,” your friend winks at you. You hear her whisper a play nice to you as she takes her place at the table next to her beau. You roll your eyes after your friend sits down, you shake your head like an etch and sketch. New slate for the weekend. I’m just here for a few days to give my sister a few days of quiet. Your consciousness rumbles.

“She’s awfully quiet,” the prince chuckles when you make a face. “Is it because she thinks I'm handsome?”

“Oh my god, the world doesn't revolve around you Oikawa,” the one named Iwazumi says through gritted teeth.

“Boys, boys, you’re both pretty, but remember Makki is dating me,” your friend reminds them and her boyfriend smirks. “Have a seat Q, before you actually start growing roots. Mattsun, be a dear and make some room for my best friend will ya?”

“I prefer to stand,” you said with a shrug. “If you want to flip for it, go right ahead.”

“You sure? I mean, Mattsun does make a pretty decent chair...” your friend’s voice trails off when she sees your gloved hand open and close. 

“That’s easy for you to say to an old friend,” you say when you take off your backpack when you hand it to her. “You’re not the one who was kicked out of the house again, so please excuse me if I decline the invitation for now.”

The conversation moves on after Makki challenges Iwazumi to another arm wrestling match while Oikawa heads to the counter to order a round of hot cocoa because it had already been sanctioned it was his turn to pay. Your friend converses at the end of the table with you and Mattsun together trying to act as a buffer between the most withdrawn people in the group. 

“Mattsun, did you know that Q is an excellent designer? She helped me forge the gas tank for the bike I use,” your friend sings your praises. How does she know what to say to push your buttons like that? Mattsun is apathetic, yet upon closer inspection of his softened features, he reminds you of an older cat. One who has both a playful and mischievous personality and your imagination wonders how fast you’d fall for him not knowing he was wondering the same thing. The middle blocker keeps a neutral expression as he stands up to help Oikawa with the drink carriers with the mugs. After a rocky start, you realize that the group is not so bad. You were now a group of six third years and you liked the odds of having a small unit composed of your best friend and her reverse harem. They walk with you two all the way back to their respective blocks and when Iwazumi along with Oikawa branch off, you are left with your best friend, Makki, and Mattsun in your company

“Six in the morning again?” your friend sighs. Her breath is caught in the chill air when he kisses her temple. You see how smitten they are for each other and while you had just survived an hour into the prolonged sabbatical, you wonder if you would eventually get a shot.

“We may have lost the game chisana josei, but at this point, I think it’s just Oikawa wanting to make sure we’re still sharp.”

“If you say so, but I’m not going to be joining you. It’s too cold,” she teases. “Q’s here to hang with me.”

“I’m sure I can find something to do for the meantime tomorrow,” you answer. “I don’t want to inconvenie--”

“She can run with me,” Mattsun speaks up, scratching his cheek. He had this quiet charm about him. The offer throws you off course for a little bit in the afternoon sun. 

“What do you think, Q? You up for a little excursion tomorrow?”

“Sure. It couldn’t hurt. You trust these two.Techinically dating one, but that’s besides the point.” The two of you laugh before realizing you set up a first date right under your nose. 

“Careful with this one Mattsun,” your friend teases, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. Your bag is now carried on one of your shoulders after you leave the cafe. “Q is really one of a kind. A gem if you will. See you guys tomorrow morning. If it’s snowing, we’re both staying indoors and you two can run together…”

It didn’t snow the following morning.

--House Hours--

You heard movie nights were a tradition, so you had tagged along with your host for the weekend away from home. The first day you had arrived, you had hot cocoa with her ‘reverse harem’ as she would like to call it followed by having dinner with her aunt and uncle; the following morning and true to their words, both Makki and Mattsun picked you two up for the daily morning run which ended with your friend getting another piggyback ride from her boyfriend (and you wonder why she fakes it from time to time, but it’s worth the way Makki’s ears burn a scarlet hue), yet you keep a steady pace much to the other party’s delight; the rest of the second day was filled with you trying to piece back together the shredded blueprints your sister ripped in front of your face. You look at the scraps tossed on the floor of the spare bedroom you were staying in and when the aunt of your best friend walks in to ask you a question, she doesn’t proceed with it since your sniffling kicked in her maternal mode: you explain to her you allow yourself to feel horribly for about five to ten minutes daily and you move on about your day, however after this particularly rudeness your sister had showcased, you needed more time before you were able to head back to your suburb. Her niece had explained the situation already a few days prior to your train arriving, but to see the damaging effects it had on you, her aunt calmed you down with some sage advice:

“Your faith is shaken, but you still believe. Give ‘em hell kiddo. I got you,” she says pulling you into a side hug. “Now, shall we make some tea? I think you deserve a break.”

Your friend came back from running an errand to the store because she wanted to buy a few more strips of tape as well as another set of trail mix with the granola clusters you like. See, you were invited at the request of the benevolent prince to his home to indulge in a movie night. “Makki said we’re going to start off the movie night at Oiks’ place with whatever you want to watch. It was Mattsun’s idea too apparently,” your friend says, handing you a hair elastic. 

“Can you ask them if Oikawa is ok with playing ‘His Girl Friday’?”

“Sure thing.”

You two had dressed in similar fashions lately due to the steady drop in temperature.A lot of muted royal colors were your in your wheelhouse of clothes you had brought with you, so tonight it was forest green tweed pants layered with a peasant belted sweater dress. Your host had snapped a photo of you getting ready and she nearly choked back a laugh when you scold her for sending it to her boyfriend. 

“You look stellar,” she says when she brushes her hair back into a loose ponytail. 

“Do I though? When was the last time you saw the scars the fiberglass left on my shoulder, chise?”

“Seventh grade,” she answers. “Scars or not, you’re still my best friend. Even if you just made a portmanteau of the harem’s nickname for me.”

You bop your head and laugh. “I suppose you’re right… we should get going, yeah?”

Oikawa house, 19:32

You walk side by side with your friend after she mentions it was her turn to bring the snacks. You divide the work explaining that you know what they need more than you do. Although all dreams must end, your life was not some hallmark film. Sometimes the hardest thing and the right ones are the same, your subconscious reminds you to be more freeing of your worries.

“Let go have some fun,” you mumble. You reach the counter with your friend ahead of you. She had the usual assortment of candy to mix into the popcorn, she noticed you have new pens and a crossword puzzle. 

“Crossword puzzles in ink was always something I wanted to try,” your voice is confident. “Besides, didn’t you say the boys were providing the food?”

When the final tally was tabulated, you leave the store together and head north at the next intersection, you two walk reminiscing your play days together.

“Oh! Your mother was so angry,” you friend says laughing about the time you stole one of her baking sheets to go sledding. “Wasn’t she going to use that pan for the crescents at the holiday party?”

“Yeah, she was. Haha,” your laugh is a foreign sound. However it is a sound you don’t often make anymore. 

“You miss her too,” you friend says as she stops in front of a modern home. 

“What child doesn’t?” You ask looking up at the sky. 

The constellations twinkle a tarnished image of a family who prided themselves in raising functional perfected youths and while your sister doted on your parents every whim, you rebelled. The rebellion sparked many fears for your family; a tomboy with a high marks should not get into scuffles on the school yard. Such a fiery spirit could only be doused for so long. You were allowed to keep your hobby of drawing because it’s what calms you the doctors mentioned. Ever since the first cold snap when you lost your mother (you were a child in the seat behind her solving a crossword in pencil) in a hit and run, the last embers of creativity sparked a carnal desire to be free. Yet here you were seven years later with a sister so emotionally damaged who in her toxic mindset didn’t understand that for you, art and designing (like the paint job you oversaw before your childhood neighbor moved across town) for automotive purposes was your way to find balance. The girl who moved across town to be close to family had a stronger support system, but after hearing what her aunt had to say it suddenly makes sense, so when she calls you out from your trance, you remember you are always evolving: keep moving. One step at a time. 

“Oikawa’s place is this one? Wow he really is a prince with a castle,” you joke in the front walkway. 

“I know right? I know he’s one of the top setters in the prefecture, but with all those interviews he does, it helps, haha. Mind holding this real quick?”

The small convenience store bag is passed to you to hold for a moment while your friend knocks thrice times. 

On the inside the boys were talking amongst themselves. It had been three days since you arrived for your holiday, and each morning after your first night, you woke up at six to run with half of the team (Makki, Mattsun, you, and your host). 

“Q is really good at keeping up with us,” Mattsun says. There is a moment where he notices his friends stop talking. They figure it out and tease the tallest middle blocker like he was discovering a crush for the very first time. 

“Oh~ is our little Mattsukawa finally growing up?” Oikawa cooed. Luckily Iwazumi’s shuts him up saying to get the door. 

Makki sends Mattsun a text and judging by his best friend’s face, Makki confirms his disposition. Iwazumi mentions he’d be heading to the couch in the living room to create more space for the girls and Oikawa. 

“Chisana mentioned you wanted to watch ‘His Girl Friday,’ so it’s already queued up.”

“Yeah, it’s really well written. Thank you,” you carry on the conversation as naturally as Oikawa points out the half bathroom in case you need it out of anything you can have your friend show you where things are since this wasn’t the first time everyone’s been over since the school year has started. 

“No problem. Ah! Here we are,” Oikawa’s arm extends outward to showcase the kitchen area where the rest of group was. Makki greeted your friend first and you wave politely. You say a quick hello to Iwazumi and you know if you could hear a stare, you would when you greet Mattsun last. 

“Greeted him last, huh?” you friend muses. 

“You greeted your strawberry first,” you argue back. 

“I don’t mind,” Mattsun says, his voice is hauntingly rich like the darkened wood finish on the tables outside. He leans in a little toward you before he stands he whispers in your ear, “you look pretty.” Your mood changed slightly as you hear his compliment. Then you remember the company you are in front of.

“We’ll go on ahead,” Makki suggests as he grabs the bowl of popcorn he separated for your friend to dump all the candies in. You nod when your friend silently slides you both kit-kat minis for luck.

“I heard you,” you say softly before you tap the back of the middle blocker’s hand. “C’mon, let’s not keep our friends waiting.”

Mattsun doesn’t give you the opportunity to remove you hand because he turns his palm up and you run your fingers barely ghosting over his future line from palm reading; you both hold a conversation behind curious eyes. 

“Leave them alone, they’ll be alright,” your friend says in a lower tone. 

Makki backs up the sentiment his girlfriend states with a stern glare at both Oikawa and Iwazumi, as one of them clicks the console control and the opening credits start to play. 

And just once, you remember what your scars mean: it’s kind of fun to do the impossible. You eat the KitKat your friend left behind as you walk away from the kitchen and sit next to Iwazumi. Mattsun observes this and decides to take matters into his own hands literally. He walks toward Oikawa’s den area, he chooses to sit on the floor in front of you like a guard dog throughout the rest of the film. The film wraps up while the next film was being chosen. When the conversation goes on much longer than expected, you can excuse yourself for a moment back to the kitchen to pick up your crossword puzzle; you cross back to the other side of the den’s layout to sit down where you were earlier. Your pen is in your hand (youyou had tucked into the bag) as you begin to solve the first puzzle. 

“I’m just saying horror movies are great,” Oikawa said. “Sci fi too.”

“Then it shouldn’t be that hard to choose,” you quip without looking up from your booklet. Your pen moves diligently as you flip over to the next page. To be quite honest, you aren’t really paying that much attention to notice Iwazumi and Mattsun switched places. 

“Twilight Zome collection it is!” Oikawa exclaimed. He pressed play. 

The evening draws to a close once you see that almost everyone had taken short catnaps around each other. You questioned whether or not the boys slept, but at least one or two of your company stayed awake.You close the crossword puzzles when Mattsun turns his head to look at you; you quirk an eyebrow at him You two were the only ones awake during this round of animated featurettes, so when Mattsun reaches for one of your hands he forces you forward a little too much, but you stop yourself from toppling over. You whisper something to him, causing him to make room for you on the floor; when you are sitting next to him, you lean into the side of his arm comfortably. 

“My my, someone is affectionate today,” you tease. 

“You don’t make it any easier,” he whispers in low tones to you. 

“I suppose that is true. Is this ok? I mean, your face is more impressionable now than before,” you call him out on the subtle changes of his features. 

“Is it? I haven’t noticed. My running partner is improving,” he tells this to you when you hold his hand in yours again. Neither of you want to let go.

“I think this is the beginning of something new,” you say calmly. “I’m still healing,you know.”

Instead of an answer, he shows you his understanding through squeezing your hand in a gentle manner: ‘you don’t need to run; you’re fine as you are.’ 

A couple minutes go by before you nod off. Mattsukawa was about to ask you a question, but chuckles lightly to himself that his question would be saved for another time. To him you are much more than a casual acquaintance of his best friend’s girlfriend. You’re shaping up to be someone he likes to know more of; you gravitate towards each other and now perhaps he realizes the appeal of having someone be a constant in life. There are many people who take the time to learn everything about the person they are crushing on, yet you and him are laid back enough to balance out your friends’ personality. You on the other hand are learning to forgive yourself one day at a time, but it’s the first time someone else is willing to wait for you. How long, you don’t know, and yet here was this casual acquaintance from your  best friends new neighborhood willing to wait for you to feel better about yourself. Mattsukawa tells you how he wants to hang out with you tomorrow; just the two of you. You were lucid enough to agree. 

Next >>

[potatocrab]

Salvation is a Last Minute Business (14/18)

Chapter 14: A Face and a Number

After a few weeks of preparation, Nick, Madelyn, and Deacon make their way to Fort Hagen undercover, searching for information on their suspect. At the agency, the group is joined by Piper and Hancock to discuss their findings. Madelyn makes a solo, impromptu visit to Concord. Later, at her apartment, Madelyn is faced with the realization that this time, she may have dug too deep.

“To me, you're a face and a number, and let's keep it that way.” - Cody Jarrett as played by James Cagney (White Heat, 1949)

[read on Ao3] x  [chapter masterpost] 

Just south of Concord, situated between the highway to the east and the hills to the west, was Fort Hagen, a sprawling command center for the United States Armed Forces. The military base was a township in itself—amongst the soldier’s barracks and administration buildings was a gas station, medical clinic, corner grocer, preschool and playground. But this wasn’t like any other town or city in Boston that could be visited while on a scenic drive-by. The satellite arrays, relay towers and other military equipment required the upmost of security measures. One did not simply walk into Fort Hagen.

As much as Nick wanted to storm the gates and follow-up on the lead they had discovered while snooping around Kellogg’s apartment, that was a sure-fire way to find himself locked up in a military prison. No amount of Madelyn’s charm or connections at city-hall would get the detective out of a court martial. And so, the two spent nearly two weeks carefully researching and organizing, coming up with the perfect plan that would get them onto the well-fortified base. A few weeks was nothing in comparison to how long the Eddie Winter investigation dragged on—they knew how to be patient.

Piper was still busy hunting down anything and everything she could about the Institute, so Madelyn and Nick made use of the rest of their resources and contacts throughout the city. MacCready had sweet-talked his way to receiving blueprints of the fort from the registrar’s office downtown. Like most of the files they had, it was heavily redacted, but still provided some clarity on what the two might find inside—if they ever got a chance. Preston and his so-called Minutemen monitored the Parkview Apartments in case Kellogg decided to make an impromptu visit. It was a longshot, but Nick didn’t want to take the risk in allowing the elusive man to slip through anybody’s fingers if there was even the slightest chance he could be caught.

Meanwhile, Madelyn and Nick poured over their case-notes and files, working in tandem with Tinker Tom who had continued to decode and reconfigure redacted report from Railroad cache sights. It was a slow process that ultimately yielded nothing the agency didn’t already know about Fort Hagen or their investigation. A breakthrough didn’t come through until Deacon revealed he’d gone through the old Switchboard files and discovered long-forgotten Defense Intelligence Agency clearances. At first the credentials seemed too good to be true—tucked away in some catacomb just waiting to be found at the opportune time—but Madelyn wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. They had their saving grace—all the more fitting that it was found in the basement of a (mostly) abandoned church.

That’s when the real planning started.

Even though the DIA wasn’t technically part of the military, they still belonged to the Department of Defense—the credentials were sure to get them past the security checkpoints at Fort Hagen. All they needed was a plausible reason for being there. Seeing that he was a master of disguise and skilled in the art of lying, Deacon was tasked in creating their personas and cover-stories, while Tinker Tom worked on updating the clearances to match their profiles. It was collectively decided that the best time for their visit would be right before Decoration Day, with the theory the base would be scant of soldiers, the top brass busy with coordinating celebrations elsewhere. The entire operation was full of unknowns and would require a healthy mix of luck and skill to navigate the variables. But this was their only shot if they wanted answers—only time would tell if their plan would work.

May 29th, 1958

Madelyn could tell from her spot in the backseat of Nick’s Cadillac that the detective wasn’t entirely pleased with his role in what Deacon had dubbed Operation ‘Lapins de la Mort’—jaw set tight and gloved hands gripping the steering wheel tight as he drove the trio west towards Fort Hagen.

“Remind me again,” he began in a measured tone. “Why I’m being ousted from my own investigation?”

Perhaps Nick was being a little over dramatic—he wasn’t being removed from the case, but he didn’t necessarily have a starring part in the grand scheme of their undercover operation. Simply put—he was the driver—the go man in the getaway car, on standby in case anything went awry. Safe to say he wasn’t happy about being resigned to wait around while Madelyn and Deacon snooped around inside the facility.

“No offense Valentine,” the Railroad spy mused from the passenger seat. “But since you won’t even try to wear a disguise, you’ll only stick out like a sore thumb.”

Deacon wasn’t wrong. Madelyn glanced up through the rearview mirror to observe Nick’s appearance—his stubble had grown out in the last week and a half, and for once, he’d swapped his tattered fedora and trench coat for a newer, cleaner set. But any Bostonian with a brain and a recent copy of the Boston Bugle or Publick Occurrences would likely be able to recognize him as the hardboiled detective that took Eddie Winter down. Not to say Madelyn hadn’t had her fair share of recognition lately, but it had always been easier for her to blend into the background as Nick’s nameless partner—the broad—she only hoped it would benefit her that day. That, and the long, brunette wig and glasses would help disguise her features.

She was also trying to settle into her undercover identity, chosen to play the part of a DIA investigator, who travelled between military sites to inspect operations and ensure they were running smoothly. Deacon—with a differently styled wig and his signature shades—would act as her second-hand-man. At first, she thought it would be better if their roles were reversed—he was the better liar and showman by far. She was reminded then, that she possessed what neither of her partners did—female persuasion. Madelyn would need to rely on all her skills in order to be successful—litigation, intrigue, investigation, and a whole lot of charm.

“This plan of yours better work,” Nick muttered as he turned down the private road towards the Fort Hagen security checkpoint.

“Our plan,” Deacon corrected, reaching up to adjust his tie. “Little late to start having doubts. I had you pegged as a man of faith.”

“I used to be.”

While Nick’s somber tone worried Madelyn, she didn’t have time to console him the Cadillac slowed, compelled to stop as they were flagged down by an approaching soldier. Another watched the exchange from a small, but well-fortified building, and his expression made it clear he had no intention on raising the barricade—not without knowing their business first.

“This is a secure area,” the armed soldier expressed as soon as Nick rolled down his window. Madelyn peered through the glass to see the name-patch and insignia on his uniform—Specialist Rhys. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to turn around and leave. Immediately.”

Deacon leaned over to address the man on the driver’s side. “Don’t you recognize a DIA agent when you see one?”

He wiggled his badge for the soldier, who bent in to try to get a better look at both his and Nick’s credentials. Madelyn straightened in her spot, attempting to look as dignified and important as she thought a government agent should.

“Just got in from DC this morning,” Deacon continued. “Hagen is our first stop today, best not to keep us waiting. Miss Kitty doesn’t like to be late.”

Madelyn gave Specialist Rhys a pointed look for good measure when he glanced to the back seat, and just as quickly diverted his gaze away. Still, the soldier didn’t look wholly convinced.

“We don’t have any scheduled visits for today, on account of the Decoration Day preparations,” he explained, looking over a logbook on a clipboard. “Are you sure you’re at the right facility?”

“Are we at the right facility, he says…” Deacon mumbled, lightly tapping Nick on the shoulder in mock amusement, though the detective was clearly on edge, eager to get moving. “That’s the thing about the DIA, we like our secrets and surprises. Like to keep the rest of you army types on your toes—”

Nick made an uncomfortable sound—something between clearing his throat and a groan—hinting that he was growing increasingly frustrated by Deacon’s posturing. Madelyn remained silent, only wishing he’d had the chance to see the spy in action prior to this little excursion—maybe then he wouldn’t be so anxious. The Railroad didn’t call him the best for nothing. Before anybody could speak, Specialist Rhys signaled back to the man standing guard in the building, and the road gate lifted.

“Sorry about the confusion, sir,” he nodded, pointing up the path. “We’ll radio ahead to have a delegation meet you at the command post in front of the main building.”

Deacon flashed a beaming grin. “Thank you kindly! I’ll be sure to put in a good word back at—”

The car lurched forward as Nick pressed on the gas, causing Deacon to tumble back to the passenger side. The detective let out a soft chuckle, and Madelyn had to hide her own amusement. “Don’t want Miss Kitty to be late.”

The streets and buildings of the Fort Hagen military base were already lined with Decoration Day fanfare—banners of red, white, and blue, flags waving on every lawn and from every storefront post. Between the many ribbons, streamers and balloons, however, was a noticeable lack of military personnel—dismissed for the holiday weekend or sent to other sites in preparation for the next day’s events. Madelyn knew it was tradition for soldiers to plant flags on the gravesites of former soldiers, and she couldn’t help but wonder if they’d leave one for Nate. A sobering feeling washed over her as she thought about finally visiting the Concord cemetery where he was buried, but the idea fell away as quickly as it materialized. She didn’t have time to be melancholy when they had a job to do.

As they pulled up to the command post outside the main building, it was clear that delegation meant two, well dressed, uniformed men. Their attire and insignia signified that they weren’t the average enlisted private, either. Nick pulled up to the designated spot along the curbside and released a sigh.

“Here goes nothing.”

Deacon and Nick exited the car in near synchronization, the detective rounding the vehicle to meet the spy as he opened the back door for Madelyn to step out. She silently thanked the two with a polite nod, steadying her composure as she approached the waiting soldiers, gripping the briefcase in her hand tightly as if to ground herself. There was a slight hesitation, as she nearly defaulted to a handshake before remembering to salute.

“Special Agent Catherine James of the Defense Intelligence Agency,” she flashed a demure smile. “Gentlemen.”

“Colonel Kells,” the man in dress uniform introduced himself, extending his arm for a handshake—finally a gesture something she was used to. He politely motioned to the taller man standing to his left. “This is Lieutenant Colonel Danse. To what do we owe the pleasure of such a visit?”

Madelyn could sense the tension in his tone, but it was filled with more irritation than suspicion as he eyed both her and the men she’d arrived with. She continued to smile, not wanting to waver or show weakness. “You know as well as I do that the government doesn’t hand out grants without proper inspection. We like our ducks shiny and all in a row, so to speak. And what better way to ensure everything is running smoothly than to show up when you least suspect it?”

“In war, the enemy never gives you a fair warning,” she added, with a wink.

While the Lieutenant seemed taken aback, nervously glancing away from her face, Colonel Kells appeared impressed. “Right you are.”

“As you can tell, we are in the middle of Decoration Day preparations,” he further explained. “You’ll have to forgive my absence, but I’m needed elsewhere. Lieutenant Danse will escort you through the premises and answer any questions you may have.”

Without further clarification, Colonel Kells saluted the Lieutenant. “Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” he answered, copying his superior’s actions.

The Colonel silently nodded to Madelyn before walking away to his own escort, and she didn’t dare to move or say anything until the officer’s vehicle was moving away from the outpost. She turned to face Lieutenant Danse, offering her hand in greeting. The man was tall, husky—built like a damn wall—fitting for the United States Army. With dark hair and dark eyes, he was handsome too, all the more easy to charm. But with the Colonel gone, his expression had shifted, and he eyed her with much more skepticism than before—she’d need to change that, fast.

“Agent James was it?” he asked, one eyebrow arced high. He reluctantly shook her hand, as to not appear rude, but she could tell he wasn’t completely comfortable with the action. Madelyn wondered if it had to do with her sex rather than her presence—something she could use to her advantage. What was it with military men and being unable to act rational around women?

“You can call me Kitty,” she grinned, letting his hand go as she noted the subtle flush of embarrassment on his face. She turned towards the waiting duo just a few feet away. “Agent Johnson will join us,” she gestured to Deacon, who was already hiding his amusement at the names he had chosen. She almost dared to go off script, just to spite him for being so smug.  “Agent Johnson will monitor the perimeter.”

Nick barely maintained his composure, sighing at the Lieutenant’s brief confusion. “No relation.”

“Right,” Lieutenant Danse answered, clearing his throat. “If you’ll follow me. We’ll make our way through the visitor’s center to the main offices.”

Madelyn shared once last glance with Nick, who stared back, expression stuck between a pout and a scowl—he wouldn’t be happy until she returned, evidence in hand. She only hoped the fort actually held the secrets they were after.

The interior of Fort Hagen was not unlike the Switchboard—a state of the art government facility, technology tailored for the times and to their specific branch of the military, albeit functioning and filled with a moderate amount of personnel, even with the approaching holiday. As Lieutenant Danse led Madelyn and Deacon through the halls of desks and offices, she kept a careful eye out for anything out of the ordinary, or anybody familiar. A shiver ran up her spine as she thought about the probability of running into Kellogg himself.

“Is there anything in particular you wish to observe during your visit?” Lieutenant Danse asked, his voice pulling her back to reality.

She scanned the room, pretending to observe the military staff with a keen eye, silently nodding to Deacon as if it was part of their secret code. It was and wasn’t at the same time, mostly used to confuse their guide. Madelyn knew they needed to play their cards carefully. Ask for the goods too soon, and the jig was up—she didn’t want to think of the consequences.

“Can you give me an update on daily operations?” she questioned, looking back to the Lieutenant. He was carefully watching her movements, hands clasped behind his back. “Our last report showed this facility was performing live training with protectrons in accordance to military contracts with RobCo.”

“That is still accurate, ma’am,” he answered with a firm nod. “The robots Mister House provided may move slower than your average soldier, but they certainly pack a harder punch.”

Madelyn raised a curious brow at his phrasing. “Concerned about being replaced by technology, Lieutenant?”

“N—no, ma’am,” he hesitated in answering, turning away as he led on through the offices to an observatory area. Below, army specialists were hunched over a spread of diagrams and blueprints, the charts too far away to discern.

She tilted her head, thinking back to the dossier Tinker Tom had compiled based on all the information he’d been able to drudge up on the fort’s activities. “And here I thought we’d stopped production on MK-1 turrets.”

“We have,” Lieutenant Danse confirmed, his eyes darting across the various people through the tinted glass. “Truth be told, I’m not privilege to everything that occurs within these walls. You’d have to speak with General Maxon, and I’m afraid he’s currently off-site.”

Madelyn wondered if he was holding something back, eyeing the soldier’s body language for any tell-tale signs. Not that she felt comfortable interrogating him for more information, but if there was even the slightest hint something sinister was occurring behind the scenes, she wanted to know. But whatever anxiety the Lieutenant appeared to be showing was more indicative of her close proximity and not some big secret he was trying to hide about Fort Hagen’s operations. With a disappointed sigh, she gave another nod to Deacon, who tapped his nose in return.

“Director Gould was explicit that we inspect the records room,” she spoke, driving the conversation and tour forward. “She has quite the reputation as being the most organized member of the DOD. Her demands aren’t to be trifled with.”

“Yes, of course,” Lieutenant Danse agreed, motioning with his hand towards a long hallway. “This way.”

In the next corridor, there was a secure door that required a keycode for entry. She was polite enough to look away as the Lieutenant entered the passcode, but she knew Deacon snuck a peak, unable to resist the forbidden knowledge. The room itself was enormous, akin to a library with tall shelves of books and binders, metal cabinets filled with files and paperwork.

“We’ve been following Director Gould’s suggested methods ever since she sent out the new directives two years ago,” Lieutenant Danse explained, walking them past the front desk where a lone clerk flashed a curt salute. “Every piece of intelligence is properly archived within these walls. Only authorized personnel are permitted to remove records, and all requests must be logged with the clerk.”

As she looked around, listening to his explanation, it started to sound and feel more like Fort Knox than Fort Hagen. “Would we permitted to perform an audit?”

The Lieutenant’s stern expression hadn’t changed much, but even then she felt like she might have crossed the line, shown their hand too soon.  After a few moments of silence, he slowly nodded.

“I believe that would be…permissible,” he agreed. “What would you like to assess?”

Madelyn paused, even though she had her answer long before they’d made their trip that day. “K—for Kitty.”

The three navigated through the rows of shelves and cabinets until they reached a section, little flags with black lettering blocking off every few feet. Ka—Ke—Yes, that would do. She set her briefcase down by her feet and pointed to the cabinet she wanted to inspect. “This may take a while.”

Lieutenant Danse didn’t seem phased at first, content to watch her as she clicked open the drawer and began filtering through the various files. Under his watch, she had to at least pretend to be slowly inspecting that the paperwork was in order, humming under her breath and smiling to herself as if she enjoyed playing secretary.

Deacon decided it was time for him to shine. “Catch the game last night?”

“Excuse me?”

“The game,” Deacon clarified, earning the Lieutenant’s attention. “Baseball. Ya’ know, America’s pastime. I swear, it was a close one—”

Madelyn tuned them out as soon as she confirmed her partner had managed to engage the soldier fully, rambling on about player statistics and the next day’s game against Baltimore. A part of her was humored, imagining Deacon studying up on the Red Sox players before wondering if he was actually, secretly a fan of the sport. God willing he never dragged her to a game. She quickened her pace, lest she become distracted by whatever the hell Vito’s save was.

The entire infiltration of Fort Hagen was a long shot. So, as Madelyn skimmed through the folders, she didn’t expect to find much, if anything of consequence. But then, right as she reached the back of the drawer, she saw lettering typed out in a bold font, displaying a familiar name—C, Kellogg. She almost gave herself a papercut yanking it out to inspect, refraining from opening the folder at the last moment when she thought about how to get the file into her briefcase. Deacon’s distraction wouldn’t be enough.

The idea struck her instantly and without a second to overthink her next movements, she tugged on the metal cabinet, shouting dramatically as the entire structure came toppling over. As hundreds of papers flied out, she swiftly captured the one she had been searching for, tucking in with a few others as she knelt to the floor, feigning collapse. Lieutenant Danse and Deacon were by her side in an instant, the two quickly lifting the cabinet back into place. Madelyn took the opportunity to stuff the handful of files into her briefcase, clicking open and shutting it closed again like a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it magic trick. By the time Deacon leaned to assist her, the job was done. Her hand in his, she gave him one last signal—three quick squeezes.

“Agent James, ma’am,” the Lieutenant’s concern was evident, even if he also appeared worried about the mess of files. “Are you alright?”

“While your files are organized Lieutenant,” Madelyn explained, breathing a sigh of relief—genuine, but only because their real task was complete. Well—so far. “They don’t appear to be structurally sound.”

The soldier frowned. “I apologize.”

“I appreciate it,” she answered, with a broad smile. “I will be kind in my report. You may lead on.”

For the following hour Madelyn and Deacon continued to follow Lieutenant Danse through the fort, her hand squeezing the handle of her briefcase so tightly she thought her fingers would snap in two. As confident as she had felt about securing supposed evidence on Kellogg, it was quickly dwindling the longer she was subjected to a farce of a tour. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep the façade up, pretending to be interested in what constituted as military secrets. Thankfully, Deacon appeared to be engaged and as collected as ever, silencing maintaining their cover.

When they were finally back outside, Nick was still standing by the Cadillac where they’d left him, left foot twitching as he tapped it against the sidewalk impatiently. When the group was close enough, she flashed him a wink, twitching her nose as she subtly glanced to what she was holding. The detective was barely able to hide his surprise, eyeing them as he eagerly awaited their return. Madelyn wouldn’t share in the excitement until they were far away from the military base, certain they had completed their operation without detection.

Lieutenant Danse turned to them near the curbside, never relaxing from his rigid military posture. “Agent James, Agent Johnson,” he nodded to both of them. “I hope your visit to Fort Hagen was satisfactory.”

“Very,” she answered, glancing to Deacon. “Johnny boy and I have a few more stops before we return to D.C, but I believe you’ve set a precedent.”

The Lieutenant, for once, showed the slightest bit of reaction—pride. He offered a salute, and parting words. “Ad Victoriam.”

“Defendam hoc,” she replied, copying his gesture. “Until we meet again.” 

It shouldn’t have been surprising that Piper was waiting for the trio when they returned to the agency that afternoon, as the reporter had a knack for occupying the space even though she had a perfectly suitable office on the second floor. Madelyn hadn’t visited the Publick Occurrences suite in a long while, but assumed it was just as cluttered as the last time she saw it, covered in newsprint, photos and paperwork. That day, Piper wasn’t alone.  

“Nicky boy, good to see you.”

It had been over a month since Madelyn last saw Hancock, when she paid him a visit at the Old State House during Nick’s hospitalization. He hadn’t changed much, not that she expected him to, still wearing his red coat and golden pin—of the people, for the people. He was leaned back in Nick’s chair, ankles crossed with his feet on the desk, flashing a lazy grin.

“Been a while,” he mused.

The detective was less than enthused by the sight, walking over to shove Hancock’s boots back to the floor, hovering intimidatingly until the other man finally moved. This time, he perched himself in an armchair, lounging back without much decency or care that there were others in the room. Even though Madelyn barely knew him, she understood the behavior aligned with his reputation. She crossed through the room to sit opposite of their guest, while Deacon followed to settle into his usual spot against the back wall.

He smiled at her, offering a low whistle. “Love the look, dollface.”

She returned the expression but couldn’t wait to slip into her office and remove the wig and return to her usual self. How did the saying go? Gentlemen prefer blondes—well, so did Madelyn, at least when it came to her own hair.

“What do you want, John?” Nick finally asked, removing his hat and coat before practically collapsing into his seat. Within seconds, he struck a match and lit a fresh cigarette, ignoring Hancock’s request for a spare. After a long day at the military base, it was to be expected—especially if they were about to reconvene on what they’d discovered.

“Miss Wright and I were just discussing the fascinating attributes of one, Mayor McDonough,” Hancock answered. “Otherwise known as my sleazy, good-for-nothing brother.”

Piper had never agreed with the mayor’s policies, or ethics—read any article she’d written on the subject and you’d get a clear understanding of her stance within seconds. She had McDonough pegged as corrupt before half the city knew what corruption was, only learning it was possible after Eddie Winter’s dirty laundry was left hung out to dry in the papers after his death. But that investigation hadn’t been able to link the mayor to anything nefarious. It seemed now that Piper was after the Institute, she was determined to root out McDonough’s secrets once and for all.

“He hasn’t been seen since the MIT demonstration,” she noted, and even Madelyn had to admit that was strange for a government official. The mayor of Boston couldn’t just disappear for two weeks without suspicion—thank God for intrepid reporters. “Even Hancock can’t get an audience.”

“Shut out by my own flesh and blood,” he mocked offense, holding a hand over his heart. “Guy has always been a pain in the ass, but hell, even on our worst days he’d still call me up on holidays and birthdays. Shake my hand in public. And on rare days, join me for a scotch in the Old State House.”

Nick was listening, but his focus was clearly on the briefcase Madelyn had situated on her lap. Piper sighed, resigned to the fact that the detective had his priorities. Until the Shaun Perlman case was solved, his interest in her investigation was limited. With all eyes on her, Madelyn took the cue to click open the case.

“I might have grabbed more than necessary,” she said, shuffling through the extra files before leaning over to place one on Nick’s desk. He read over the typewritten name, confirming it matched their suspect—Conrad Kellogg.

The group continued to sit in relative silence as Nick skimmed through the paperwork, tracing his finger across redacted lines and mumbling under his breath with a furrowed brow. “Most of this reads like any military dossier.”

“So your man really is a soldier,” Hancock suggested, inferring he’d been brought up to speed on their cold-case.

“Looks like it,” Nick muttered, but his eyes continued to scan, flipping through page after page of information. Suddenly, he blanched, and momentarily flicked his gaze to Piper as his mouth twitched. “MIT is mentioned.”

“What?” the reporter yelped, rushing to the desk and practically yanking the file from Nick’s hands. He didn’t resist, leaning back in his chair as he thoughtfully rubbed at his chin. Piper gasped as she read over the text. “This is his medical history. It says that in 1945, after returning home from the war in Europe, he received experimental brain augmentation in an attempt to cure a traumatic head injury.”

Her voice was shaky, clearly alarmed by what she’d recited. Madelyn sat in stunned silence, unable to believe was she was hearing—could it be possible Kellogg was linked to the Institute after all? “As far as these reports indicate, MIT considered the operation a success.”

“I’ll say,” Nick muttered, shaking his head. “This goes back to your theory on Institute experiments. Who’s to say they didn’t implant something while rooting around, only for it to backfire?”

Piper reluctantly nodded. “That means we were right. MIT has been hiding secrets for years. Decades even.”

An eerie silence filled the room as Nick stared down at his right hand—the prosthetic that he’d received after returning from the war, courtesy of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Similar circumstances to Kellogg, and yet set on entirely different paths. Madelyn knew there was little she could do to settle the questions that were likely running through his mind.

“Could this explain his crimes?” she asked in a hushed tone. “Any of his actions?”

Nick didn’t answer, so Piper took the initiative. “Anything is possible. The Institute has made that much clear.”

“Maybe they put one in Guy’s brain too,” Hancock joked.

At first, his statement didn’t resonate with the others, but Piper’s expression quickly shifted, her interest piqued. “That—that would make sense. It would explain everything about his actions.”

“Gives a new meaning to government puppet,” Hancock muttered.

Madelyn focused on her partner, and his continued silence. “What do you want to do, Nick?”

The detective didn’t answer for a long time, still focused on his hand, studying the hard lines of his palm. Only when his cigarette was burned down to the filter did he let out a deep sigh. “Only one thing left to do.”

He lifted his head to stare at the others. “We go after MIT.”

They’d managed to infiltrate Fort Hagen—how hard could sneaking into the Institute be?

There was something to be said about the dangers of women walking the Boston streets alone at night. Even though Eddie Winter and his crime syndicate had been shut down, and the corruption within the police department and government had been culled, there was always an underlying threat when living in the city. Between rumors of a so-called Fens Phantom and the Cola-Killer, or worries of running into a crazed, scarred gunman—there was always the possibility of running into something sinister behind every dark corner.

Madelyn wasn’t afraid, and it wasn’t because of the pistol strapped to her thigh-holster under her dress, or the backup stored in her purse for good measure. For all the potential danger lurking about after sunset, nothing was more terrifying than the idea of what she was about to do. Since the visit to Fort Hagen and subsequent discovery of evidence linking Kellogg’s involvement with the Institute, she’d had the overwhelming desire to return to Concord. Not with Nick to follow-up on their investigation, but to visit a place she thought she’d never come back to—the church. Perhaps something within her snapped when the connection had been made at the agency. Nick would sort out their leads, coordinate with Preston’s Minutemen on surveillance for the university. Piper would work with Hancock on locating Mayor McDonough in an attempt to shake him down for answers. Deacon would return to Railroad headquarters so Tinker Tom could mine the redacted information from the smuggled Fort Hagen files. Madelyn would rendezvous with the others in the afternoon, after she paid a visit to city hall to research caselaw and any court documents on file for the Institute. Their plans were set into motion without a moment to lose—the totality of it all, frightening.

Then again, she’d been delaying the visit for months—years—best not to fool herself into thinking some wild event had finally pushed her over the edge. If trauma was what she needed, Madelyn had plenty of opportunities in recent memory to travel north to Concord, and to the little church cemetery in which her husband had been laid to rest for all eternity. It was better late than never. If ghosts, spirits—guardian angels, were real—she hoped he could forgive her for the delay.

Madelyn stood at the gates for a long time, before musing to herself that if anybody were watching her, how strange it must be for a young woman to be staring longingly into a graveyard. Even then, her movements were slow as she navigated the tombstones and tiny monuments, paying them no attention. Underneath a shady tree near the back corner was her husband’s grave, the inscription easy to read thanks to the dedicated groundskeeper who worked to maintain the site, even when nobody visited.

Nathaniel James—Devoted Son, Husband, and Soldier

Madelyn swallowed back the flood of emotions that threatened to knock her down to her knees and released a shaky breath. “Hi honey.”

What? She shut her eyes tight, groaning at her own frustration. A year and a half, and all she could think to say was that? Instead of flowers, she fumbled with the most expensive bottle of whiskey she could find at the corner store and turned it in her hands, showing off the label as if he could see.

“I brought the good hooch,” she attempted to tease, but the words felt forced. Finally, with a defeated sigh, she slumped. “I—I don’t know how to do this.”

Tears prickled her vision and she gripped the bottle in one hand, reaching up with her other to wipe at her eyes. “I don’t know a lot of things. How to feel about you being gone, for starters. Guilty for the slightest bit of happiness? Sad and wallowing in self-pity? Nick doesn’t think so.”

A breeze shook the branches of the tree, startling her. She glanced around in the darkness before deciding to sit down on the ground, uncaring of the dirt and grass that would likely stain her dress—Codsworth would have words with her on laundry day. After some consideration, she unscrewed the bottle of whiskey and carefully poured a little out onto the ground in front of his headstone.

“Is Heaven a dry county?” she joked, smirking as the liquid disappeared into the earth. “They don’t teach such blasphemy in Catholic school.”

She took a sip straight from the bottle, wincing at the smooth burn as it travelled down her throat and radiated through her chest and gut. “Everybody always wants to offer unsolicited advice,” she lamented. “I know Nick means well, he always has. And maybe I shouldn’t give him such grief after—”

Madelyn broke off when she thought about her partner’s own, recent loss. “At least you and Jenny have each other now.”

The only sound—or response—were the rustling of the leaves in the oak tree. She sat in the quiet for a while, alternating between pouring more whiskey onto the ground and into her mouth until her skin felt tingly.

“All I know is—” she steadied herself as the tears clouded her vision again. “Damnit Nate, I miss you.”

“I have Nick, and Piper and—” her breath hitched, unable to prevent herself from crying. “I activated Codsworth. He’s such a sweetheart, for a robot with artificial intelligence. Worries so damn much. I—we—have a dog too,” she softly laughed, thinking off all the times she’d seen the Mister Handy walking Dogmeat outside her Cambridge apartment, much to the confusion and wonderment of her neighbors. “But I miss our house, I miss our life. Our plans. I miss dates at Shelly’s—they tore it down last summer—”

Madelyn stopped cold, realizing she’d gone on an emotional rant to an inanimate object, admitting more to empty air than she had to any living person. Remorse trickled through her mind as she realized there was one name she’d omitted, perhaps purposefully. She wasn’t lying about the way she felt—not in the slightest—but her feelings went beyond that of her late husband.

“I have more bad news,” she hushed, side-eyeing the grave like it could come to life and take his form at any moment. Maybe she’d taken too many sips of the whiskey. “I—I met someone. Maybe. Still trying to figure out the circumstances of our paths crossing. He might’ve stalked me. Might be stalking me now.”

She glanced up to the nearby church steeple window, looking for a looming shadow. “Despite the warning signs, and odds, and…cons list, I—”

Madelyn’s face felt warm, and it wasn’t from the alcohol. Why was she unable to admit how she felt, even though she’d made peace with the realization time and time again? Maybe it was the absurdity of expressing it aloud, to her deceased husband’s grave—I’m in love with somebody else.

“I’m a fool,” she sighed, tipping the whiskey bottle so more amber liquid spilt onto the ground. A little moved to dampen the edge of her dress, but she was beyond caring. “To want something after all the death and destruction—not to mention explosions—it’s new and exciting and terrifying.”

“And I’m still carrying around all this guilt and shame,” she tossed her head back, grimacing when her skull thumped the hard stone. “We’ve been busy with this case, but I’m afraid my apprehension is obvious. Even if I started it.”

“Was I always this stubborn?”

Madelyn shook her head. “Don’t—I know you can’t, but—don’t answer that.”

“I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,” she continued, quietly. “I don’t know why I finally decided to come see you. Like I said—I don’t know a lot right now, but I’m trying. Waiting for the next big break—though, I guess that’s already happened. Don’t suppose you can tell me if Nick and I are on the right track?”

Silence. Well—what did she expect?

“I need a sign,” she mumbled, gesturing to her surroundings. “Something a little louder than the wind in the trees. You know I’m not a fan of subtlety.”

Madelyn wasn’t sure if she was asking for divine intervention on the agency’s investigation, or for something else. Maybe both. Regardless, it didn’t hurt in asking for assistance from the other side. Unable to drink anymore, she capped the bottle of whiskey and tucked it safely against Nate’s gravestone, digging it into the soft dirt so it wouldn’t topple over so easily.

“There,” she sighed. “Now you can get shitfaced with the apostles.”

A sad little smile pulled at her lips as she wondered if her husband would’ve found the joke in poor taste. Somebody else she knew would’ve laughed like she was Lenny Bruce performing in New York. She pushed away the thoughts of another man and the associated guilt that ensued, focusing as she ran her fingers across Nate’s engraved name.

“I love you,” she whispered, closing her eyes for a brief moment. “No matter what happens next.”

Madelyn didn’t linger for long, unsure if she wanted to know what could possibly occur in a cemetery after midnight. However, as she left the Concord graveyard and stood on the sidewalk to hail a cab, she couldn’t shake the sense that she was being watched. 

It was late when Madelyn managed to haul herself up the seven flights to her apartment door, the hallway quiet and dark save for one flickering, fluorescent light near the stairwell. She wondered, as she fished the keys from her purse, if her neighbors were fed up with her late-night escapades or were suspicious of her line of work. If they hadn’t seen the fruit of her labors plastered across the newspapers, she was sure they’d probably think of her as some kind of floozie. Maybe when the Shaun Perlman case was closed, and Kellogg was captured, she could settle down and return to practicing law at the District Attorney’s office downtown.

Laughter bubbled in her throat—first at the assumption there would be no more cases to solve, that the work would ever truly be gone. Second, that she’d ever leave the agency and Nick behind. Or anybody behind. To finally be part of something larger than oneself as she assisted not one, but two organizations—Nick’s partner with the agency by day, Deacon’s partner with the Railroad at night. Settle down? Never.

Deacon’s parting words at the office suddenly echoed in her mind and she turned on her heel to face Drummer Boy’s door. She hesitated before knocking, not wanting to disturb him at such an odd hour. But Railroad agents were habitual night-owls, and not a moment after tapping, the lock clicked open and she was greeted by a familiar, kind smile.

“Just checking in. Doctor’s orders,” she pursed her lips in thought. “Not Carrington, but—”

“Deacon called ahead,” he explained, cutting her off.

While Drummer Boy would never come out and interrogate her, the way he was eyeing her with one raised brow told her he’d been listening for her return. She liked having the Railroad agent nearby, but she didn’t need to be on surveillance—something she’d need to remind her partner of the next time she saw him. It was bad enough she had a Mister Handy unit that was likely ready to report her missing if she didn’t walk through the door in the next ten minutes. The last thing she needed was a babysitter.

“Late night?” he simply questioned.

“You don’t know the half of it,” she sighed, cutting him some slack—he was just doing his job. Madelyn’s head still felt dizzy from drinking all that whiskey at Nate’s grave, and exerting herself on so many stairs didn’t help the unsettling feeling in her stomach. Maybe some food would help. “Did you have dinner yet? Thursday…I’m sure Codsworth has some kind of casserole in the oven.”

“Rain check,” he grinned, even as he shook his head. She was remined that despite his duties to the underground organization, they had managed to form a good friendship. It was only natural, seeing as they were neighbors. “I’ve got a stack of dead drops to sort through and run to their next location before dawn.”

Madelyn didn’t take offense to his rejection, understanding that his Railroad obligations came first. “I’ll save a piece for you,” she said. “Well, if Dogmeat doesn’t lick the pan clean.”

The two shared a laugh before bidding each other goodnight. Keys in hand, she stepped through her door to find her apartment unusually dark. She tossed her purse and coat over the back of her couch and reached to turn on the lamp on the table, but even after a few tugs on the chord, no light shined through the bulb.

“Codsworth?” she called for the robot, and heard his buzzing from the hallway, but only Dogmeat came bounding out into the living room to greet her. “Hey boy, is the power out?”

She patted his head and looked around the room, trying to remember where she’d last stashed a flashlight or some candles. Curiosity filled her mind when she thought about the fact she’d seen light coming through Drummer Boy’s door—had she forgotten to pay her electric bill amid the chaos of recent investigations? Dogmeat barked, and Codsworth finally appeared from the hallway.

“Miss Madelyn, you’re finally home.”

She moved to meet him halfway near the kitchen island, ready to crack a self-depreciating joke about the circumstances when something shot through the nearby window, whizzing so fast in front of her that she barely had a chance to react or realize what it was—a bullet. A second shot caused the glass of the window to shatter and Madelyn was unable to hold back a frightened shriek. A third flew by, ricocheting off the kitchen counter and into Codsworth’s chassis. The Mister Handy didn’t seemed phased, brushing off the attack as he rambled off threating phrases to the phantom assailant, hovering closer towards the window.

In the next second, Drummer Boy burst through her front door, gun drawn. With quick strides he was at her side, colliding with her body as another bullet whistled by. They fell to the floor in a heap, Drummer Boy scooting them out of sight from the window and behind the kitchen counter to best of his abilities. Muted gunshots continued to echo through her apartment until finally—there was silence. Madelyn’s adrenaline continued to rush for a long while, and neither her or Drummer Boy dared to move, unsure if it was really safe. Judging by the way Codsworth was moving around the room, celebrating their survival, the coast was clear—for now.

It was only when she felt a dampness seeping against her chest that panic started to bloom and she thought to move—had she been injured? Her thoughts shifted as Drummer Boy flashed her a pained expression, breathing out through gritted teeth as he pulled away if only to collapse flat against the tiled floor.

“Robby?” Madelyn knelt over him, uncaring of Railroad protocol on codenames. Blood soaked through the side of his shirt where he’d obviously been shot. “Jesus, you’re—”

He shook his head and forced a smirk. “I’m fine.”

“Just a flesh wound,” he assured in a hushed tone.

Madelyn had a hard time believing it, considering the painful expression he was struggling to hide. He slowly gestured to her arm, and she realized she really had been injured—blood trickling down her arm from a tear in the shoulder of her dress. It was a small graze, as far as she could tell. Considering the wound could be worse—and that she’d suffered worse before—she wasn’t fazed. The shock would likely catch up to her later, as it typically did. All she cared about in that moment was finding out why she’d been shot at in her own home—who wanted her dead? Her sense of security was shattered, all over again.  

“On second thought,” Drummer Boy mumbled, catching her attention. Madelyn found his hand and gripped it tightly, listening as the sound of police sirens wailed outside the apartment building and filtered in through the busted window. At least somebody had the decency to call for help. Tears began their silent roll down her cheeks as she wondered, how much more harm would come to those she cared about?

He barely squeezed her fingers in return. “I’ll take that slice of casserole now.”

[polygamyff]

56. Part 4

Placing Reign over my shoulder, Robyn is again being unfair and just loves listening to her own voice. Locking my car as I made my way to the home, I can literally hear Robyn outside this door “and where have you been mom? Seriously, I called you” rolling my eyes walking up the steps “here we go” I said to myself “I just needed some time to myself; I didn’t need anyone in my ear Robyn. That is all, I am back now so stop shouting. What is all the commotion outside I could hear you from here” placing Reign down on the couch, she is tired. Placing Reign on her side as I sat down on the edge “oh just Maurice hates the poor and I argued with him about it, that is all, no big situation at all. He is a stuck up drama queen, I can’t be bothered to deal with him” taking Reign’ shoes off “whatever Robyn, keep talking. Says the woman in her million dollar home in New York be quiet” Reign’ feet are all sweaty in these shoes “mom, he was so rude. He didn’t want anything because some poor people made it, he complained right from the start, shall we take a bodyguard, shall we not wear anything expensive. And then he made my family! My family, feel like shit for being poor, how is that even right? His pussy ass couldn’t even tell some kids off” placing Reign’ shoes on the couch “Robbie, calm down. Stop it now” turning while sat on the couch so I can see Robyn’ flustered face, she is just boring “you’re a hypocrite, fine whatever. You’re down for the people, I am not so what. You are just doing the most, I don’t care what you say or what you feel, I will never go back there, ever. Take it as you like. You are the same woman waltzing around with people with money, you are living with a maid and a fucking bodyguard yourself. You are disrespecting my life when you are fucking living it too, ok?” Terry looks so displeased, she just sighed out heavily “I didn’t want the maid!! You fucking bought it, like you do with everything. You are wrong Maurice, accept it, you are wrong. I felt it, I felt awkward and I know they did too. Stood there like a fucking plank of fucking wood watching with such a face on, they were nice to you” getting up from the couch “I wasn’t wrong, it’s not a good place and I said what I said. I am trying with you, I fucking tried!” why won’t she accept I tried “tried!? You should have stayed here, you’re only happy on your throne, your dad did the worst job with you” walking over to Robyn slowly “and still, you’re going to be in your Million dollar home” I stood in front of Robyn “at the end of the day you’re still going to be flying back in a private jet, this shit is irrelevant because your life is not the same, now lower your tone” Robyn mean mugged me “fuck you! Why are you even in this home, you hear this mom. He said I came here didn’t I, making out even this home is beneath him, why stay here?” rubbing my chin “you right, but seeing as my daughter is here I will be here” I said “same room you’re standing in when didn’t want her, right?” I knew that was coming, nodding my head “you’re predictable, you know what. I will go” I can’t be bothered; it will be low blow after low blow from both of us.

“Maurice” Robyn said, I don’t want to hear it anymore. I can find anyone in the Hollywood Hills that will take me in anyways. Dragging open the door “where exactly are you going to go?” banging the door shut as I got my phone out from my pocket, jogging down the steps as I unlocked my car. Diddy will let me use his crib, tapping on his name as I got into my car, I am honestly not going to argue about this to her “Maurice, the man himself. Not like you to call me out of the blue, I guess this ain’t no business dealing” he said down the phone, I chuckled “not exactly, I just need to use your crib in the Hollywood Hills?” putting the car engine on “you know me, you always can. When did you ever need to ask, Quincy is there so just go. You family” putting the car in reverse as I drove back slowly “thank you, this is why I called you first. I knew you got me always, don’t tell Quincy is throwing a little something?” he always doing that “you know how he do, my boy always got a party to throw. But I will let him know you are coming but I have my invite my nigga, my invite to the kings party for the takeover huh” my dad is out here inviting everyone “well I am sitting in the throne with rest of the black kings, that’s how we do. But I will speak to you later, I am driving right now and I ain’t connect it to the car yet so I will call you and tell Quincy to relax. I don’t need that shit around“ I laughed down the phone “I can’t control him, but I will speak to him, be cool” disconnecting the call. I didn’t even want to go but I can’t even believe she made that noise; she made that noise about the moment when I was in a bad place. I am not happy, talking about Maurice. Fuck that, I am annoyed.

The gate opened up as I drove into the mansion, I mean shit is beautiful here, now this is me “Big M!” Quincy said, revving my car as I parked at the side of the Ferrari “it’s been a while” putting my car in park “a while? You thirty now, I saw you and you was in your twenties” getting out of the car “I blinked and I literally aged, family” hugging Quincy “good seeing you, who you with here?” I hope he isn’t having a party; I just don’t want no trouble. Just somewhere to lay my head “some of my friends, some girls. Just a little get together” locking my car door as I walked with him into the home “my dad called and said that Maurice is coming, I am so fucking hype you here. It’s been years! I remember I used to sleep in your home here” I laughed remembering “you mean you was asleep on the floor; I would be walking around in the morning and your ass is on the floor asleep. But it was good, we had fun but good looking. This place is even better now, the renovation was needed pretty much” seeing some new dudes, I don’t know who these are “who are these anyways?” I asked “so this is Cyn, aye. This is Maurice, or Big M, or to me my brother. But Big M was named after what?” I am trying to think now “it was that night, when I got that delivery, and that nigga called me Medicare, the crib was full of all the drugs, I had every drug in that crib. But y’all can call me Big M or Maurice, not Medicare please” Quincy busted out laughing “this nigga threw the best parties, every nigga was there but this is Cyn, and this Lil M” Quincy laughed which made me laugh “are you my son, you light skinned enough to be my son, little fucking M” I cackled “y’all niggas playing me” the kid said but he sound like he ain’t even hit puberty yet.

There is a few girls here, they ain’t coming near me and I ain’t going near them so we good “you passed that now?” Quincy placed the bag of weed on the table “way passed it, you and I both know I have partied enough to question why I am alive now. So we doing lowkey parties now, what is this?” I pointed at the little group around the pool “I arrived here yesterday, but if you want to throw a party we can do it” shaking my head “I was just asking, I am all good with that” getting my phone out from my pocket, Robyn is calling me but I can’t be bothered to hear her at all “I am playing, I am happy for you. We joke and stuff, but you done so good, I flew out for you actually. Your big day, nigga we all are coming out for you” I didn’t even know this “that is dope to hear, not going to lie. You think that shit is fake, you know this famous life. But you do meet good people, yo Cyn. Take a picture of us” holding my phone out to him, he was just walking by us “I am going to be on your Insta? No way” I laughed shaking my head, Quincy rested his arm on my shoulder as we looked my phone “done” he held the phone out to me “thank you” looking down at the picture “light skinned united finally” Quincy spat “I look pale as shit, New York don’t be giving me no sun. That Spain tan done left me” captioning the picture ‘Hollyweird’ posting the picture “what we saying today Big M” looking up at him and laughed “Big M with my nigga Quincy, we just vibing in Hollyweird, we got little M over there. We just vibing, and Shad, if you know the location then come up for a drink” Quincy busted out laughing “we living” he stopped recording “Shad is going to be running here, watch” Shad is like some groupie nigga that made a name for himself, he always was every party I been too here, I think he had an obsession over me.

Sitting down on the chair “can’t sleep?” my mom said “I am tired but then I’m not, he got me angry. I didn’t want to say it, but I did but I didn’t mean it. Mom he was so rude, he literally stood there like they were shit, he made them feel awful. I know they was feeling because I was, I had to go. And then he is acting like some asshole for what? They are my family, they don’t have money, what does he want? Not everyone is rich” shaking my head “I don’t want to be involved Robyn, he is acting how he was bought up like you are acting like you was bought up, you have seen struggle, he hasn’t. I am not taking anyone side because he could have acted better, but also you could see it from his side too. You both need to talk, not argue. I feel like this home is a curse, I am sick of it Robyn. I want to move, how can there be so much bad luck but how was it baby? Are you happy?” My mom asked “I am happy but now I am upset, Maurice is god knows where. I called his phone, but he disconnected it, I didn’t mean to say it. I just want to know he is ok; I want him to know I will see them. They are not bad people, he is taking it all wrong” I am so stressed out “let him have space, try again tomorrow. Did you see his grave?” nodding my head “I cried, it was emotional. I was upset about that, then I was upset that Maurice was not liking it at all. They are not us; I mean they not even me. Yes, I saw, well they told me they have guns, but they have it for their own protection. I don’t know, I didn’t want him to walk out” I feel bad now, I really do.

“I guess he is ok” I said after seeing the post he has made “what makes you think that?” my mom asked “he is with the people he likes, the rich. He posted on social media, but he ignored my call” I want to make up with him but now he’s annoyed me even more “you know what to do, let things cool off. Text him, tell him that you would like him to come here so you both can talk. I am not going to be involved in this, but emotions are high, I just want you both to be ok. Least we know he is ok, that is all we need to care for” placing my phone on the table “but I honestly can’t take the fact he feels that way mom” I don’t think I can “Robbie, listen to me. You love him, let’s start there. You both need to come to a solution, it can done. Sleep on it and think of something. I will take Reign out with me. Or go back to New York, I have had enough because California is no good to you and him. This home!” my mom huffed out “I am going to sleep” rubbing my face shaking my head, he was rude and I am not that but I didn’t mean to say that to him either, my anger and frustration got the better of me.

[ellixthea]

Anniversary

Request: @xxkellsvixen19xx “Request for Colson/MGK romantic wedding anniversary with reader please!”

A/N: Here you go! Hope you enjoy it ;)

“Your first anniversary is coming soon! Any plans for the occasion?” Lizzie, your best friend for 12 years asked you.

 “Actually, I started to talk to him about it, but he cut me off telling me he was taking care of everything, so I guess I’ll have to wait.” You replied, taking a bite of your meal. In a week, it would be yours and Colson’s first wedding anniversary.

The first time you saw him was in a restaurant. You walked in with a bunch of your friends to celebrate one of your closest friends’ birthday. You didn’t see him at first, you didn’t really pay attention to the people around you but when you were about to sit down, it was where you saw him, across your table. He was with other people, ordering their meal when he eyes met yours. You couldn’t explain what you felt but you felt something. You didn’t believe at love at first sight but with all the emotions rushing through your body, it felt like it was. His face looked familiar, but you couldn’t put words on where you would have seen him.  He gave you a smile which you returned before sitting down between your friends. During the whole time at the restaurant, you would sometimes check him out which surprised you since usually you wouldn’t do those kinds of things, but you were even more surprised when you caught him do the same thing. When it was time for you and your friends to leave to keep celebrating in a club, you felt a little sad knowing that you would never see this unknow person ever again. You were all heading to your cars when you heard someone calling you. “Hey!” You turned around, and so did your friends. “Yes, you” he started, and you felt your heart beating faster. “I was wondering if I could get your number. I saw you at the restaurant and I don’t know what kind of sorcery you did but I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.” His statement made you giggled and you accepted to give him your number. “I’m Colson by the way.” “Y/N” “Such a beautiful name, have fun with your friends Y/N.” He said and soon he was heading back inside the restaurant leaving you both speechless and excited. Then things went on simply, you went on several dates, learnt a lot about him and especially his career and soon enough the two and you started dating. What you felt for him was indescribable. He made you feel like you were the only woman in the world. What Colson felt for you was something he barely felt for a woman. You were so important to him and made you understand it in every way. After 2 years of being together he proposed to you, which you immediately said yes.

“Ooohhh I wonder what it is.” Lizzie added smirking. 

“Lizzie you know what he’s planning don’t you?” “I don’t know maybe but you’re not getting anything from me.” She laughed soon joined by you.

The week went on slowly as you were excited for the surprise Colson was planning. You would try to steal information from him, but it would always end up either you being frustrated or into a make out session.

When you woke up on the day of the anniversary, you turned around to cuddle with Colson when you found the bed with only you in it. You frowned your eyebrows as you wondered where he could have been. You got up and made your way in the living room where you saw him through the large bay windows with a joint between his fingers. You came behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

 “Good morning handsome.” 

“Good morning babe.” Colson replied, turning around to hug you and kiss you languidly. When he pulled away, your eyes were still closed, as if you wanted to recall every second of it. His arms were around your neck when he started to talk. 

“I know today is our day, but I have to go. It’s not gonna take long I promise.” You pulled away from him.

 “What? Why? It’s our first year and you’re leaving?”

 “Don’t be mad, I promise you that when you’ll know the reason why, you’ll be happy.” You were confused at his statement which made you raised your eyebrow, something that would turn Colson on. “Oh, babe don’t do that thing with your eyebrow. You know how it makes me feel.” You got closer to him, wanted to play on the situation. “That’s what you get for leaving me.” You replied, lifting your eyebrow once again, a smirk drawn on your face before going back inside.

Colson was right, his little excursion didn’t too long but long enough for you to miss him. During the day, he would have cute attentions towards you, treating you like a goddess. You loved everything that he was doing for you but as the day was going you wondered if him behaving this way was the surprise, he told you about. It was around 7p.m. when Colson joined you in your bedroom. You were trying on bracelets when he had an expression you knew way too well. “Babe, I want you to wear whatever that makes you feel amazing. We’re leaving in an hour.” He said before grabbing a bag that you had never seen before and leaving the room. You couldn’t fight the smile growing on your face and decided to get ready. You opened the dresser to find what to wear for the night. You didn’t know where you would go so you decided to wear a night blue dress which was tight at the breast and flared from the waist until the end of the dress which was ended in the middle of your thigh, not too short but not too long. A reversed triangle shape exposed your back. The dress was suiting your figure perfectly. Once you were done with the outfit, you went to the bathroom connected to your bedroom to do your hair and makeup. You went on for a messy yet chic bun and for your face, you decided to put on mascara, eyeliner and burgundy lipstick. You were fixing yourself in the mirror when you heard Colson knocking at the door.

 “Can I come in?”

 “Yes, you can.” You said as you exited the bathroom only to be face to face with him, both shocked at each other outfit.

 “You look amazing Kells.” You said getting closer to him. He was wearing a dark chino pants with a white shirt.

 “What should I say about you then! You look incredible Y/N. I can’t wait to take that off.” You weren’t expecting him to say that, even though he always did those kinds of comments. “Kells!” You said laughing. “Are you reading for our night?” “More than ready!”

On the way to the mysterious location, you realized that Colson was driving away from the city. “Wait, why are we getting that far from the city?” “You’ll see.” He simply replied, raising his eyebrow, imitating what you usually did which made you rolled your eyes in an amused way.

After 20 more minutes of driving, you finally parked in the high of the city. He offered you his hands, guiding you to the hills and you were glad you decided to go for flat shoes. Once you arrived you couldn’t believe what was in front of your eyes. A spot which was overhanging the city, and which gave a glimpse of the sea afar. Bunch of beautiful and colorful flowers were around a table that had been set up for the two of you.

 “Colson, it’s amazing.” You were speechless. You would talk sometimes about how you loved being away from the city and how you would love to spend a night there but couldn’t do it with Kells’ busy schedule and yours. The fact that he took note of what you said, even the flowers brought you so much joy inside your body. 

“A caterer is on the way.”

 “A caterer? I didn’t even know it was possible?!” You replied, even surprised. “Everything is possible when you want to.” As a response, you only smiled and kissed him.

Here you were, standing on the top of a hill, with an amazing landscape and the love of your life. Back in college, you used to be worried about your future, afraid to fail in life and you were also concerned about what life had planned for you but what you were living was everything you would have hoped for.

You were still looking at the view when Colson took your hands in his.

 “Y/N, I didn’t know I needed you until you came into my life. I know it’s hard to keep up with my shit sometimes and I’m thankful you didn’t give up on me, on us when the times were rough. I can’t explain how in love I am with you because I guess nobody has experienced this love ever. Making you my wife was the best decision I have ever taken. Thank you for being an amazing step mother for Casie and thank you for being an amazing and sexy wife.” By the end of his sentence, you were crying. It was rare for him to open up that much.

 “Thank you for being the best Kells, I love you so much.” You replied, jumping on him, wrapping your legs around his waist and kissing him until the both of you couldn’t breathe anymore.

[sunmoonandeddie]

little ballerina (12/16)

pairing: peter parker x reader

word count: 3,133

summary: After The Snap was reversed and the world went back to normal, Natasha Romanov had one request of her team: to infiltrate and destroy the Red Room.

chapter warnings: Devil words

masterlist

a/n: We love backsliding.  Let me know what you think!

Almost three months flew by right before your eyes.  You were going on missions with the Avengers pretty consistently, though you were never on the ground.  You always worked tech in the quinjet.

And as promised, you told Peter every time you went on a mission and called him as soon as you got back.  That is, if he wasn't on it with you.  If there was a mission during the weekend and you were going, he was sure to make sure he was on the team.

You and Wanda...  Well, it took a while, but you two had grown a lot closer since your little heart-to-heart in the kitchen that one night.  You two and Natasha were like three peas in a pod, with Pepper sometimes joining in on your antics.  Most of the time, it was just wine nights where Natasha would give you a glass with a wink.  The four of you would kick out the boys so you could be alone.

You looked up at the apartment building in front of you with wide eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat.  The sounds of the city rushed around you.  Happy had parked the car and walked to the trunk, pulling out your luggage.

"It's okay.  I, I, I got it," Peter said as he grabbed the suitcases, waving the man off.  He turned to say something to you but stopped when he realized you were still in the car.  "Y/N?"  He walked over to your open window, leaning against the hood so he was looking into your eyes.  "What's wrong, angel?"

Biting your lip between your teeth, you looked down so you wouldn't meet his eyes.  "I don't want to go in."

"Why not?"

"What if she doesn't like me?"

Peter's worried expression fell as he laughed a little.  "She's going to love you.  I, I promise."  He opened up the door, holding his hand out for you to take.  "You've been looking forward to this trip for the last month.  Don't, Don't let nerves stop you now."

You slowly placed your hand in his, your eyes meeting his as he smiled at you encouragingly.  Once you had stepped out of the car, he pulled you into a tight hug.  His breath tickled your ear as he murmured, "I've got you, okay?"

It wasn't just meeting Aunt May.  This was the first time that you had been to New York City since being taken.  This moment was also you being reintroduced to the world.  It had been a slow process, starting with that run with Bucky.  He had made you promise to go on it before your first mission, but it didn't actually happen until about a month after.

You had come downstairs one day to find Nat, Steve, Tony, and Bucky talked in heated whispers.  Bruce was standing off to the side, clearly listening but not wanting to be a part of the discussion.

"I think she's ready," Bucky said firmly, his eyes narrowed.  His metal fingers were flexing at his side.

Tony shook his head, his arms crossed over his chest.  "What if she runs?  What if all of this has been an act?"

Nat bristled, taking a step towards the brunette.  "She's not going to run.  Wanda undid the Stockholm Syndrome bonds."

Tony looked ready to say something else, but Steve cut in, "Bucky and I will be there with her the entire time.  It's just a run."

"Hey, Y/N," Bruce suddenly said, bringing everyone's attention to where you stood at the elevator.

You had already put on your pajamas and had just come down for a late night snack before your nightly FaceTime.  "Hi."  Moving towards them, you wrapped your arms around yourself a little nervously.  "Talking about me?"

Tony cleared his throat as Bucky shot him a look.  "Uh, we—"

"I'm not going to run.  If that's what you're worried about."  Everyone's voices went quiet as they watched you.  Your e/c eyes flickered to each of them in turn, trying not to whither under their scrutiny.  "This is my home now.  Why would I leave?"

Natasha had smirked triumphantly at Tony, clapping her hands together.  "Sounds good enough to me."  As Tony walked away grumbling, she winked at you, mouthing, "I'm proud of you."

The next morning, you met Bucky and Steve for the run at five in the morning.  Well, Bucky had to drag you out of your bed, but still.  Five in the morning.  You had changed into your running clothes and thrown up your hair into a ponytail as you got into the elevator.

When you stepped outside of the compound, you took in a deep breath, relishing the feeling of fresh air filling your lungs.  It was the first time you had been outside the compound since arriving.  You had forgotten how good the chill could feel against your skin, your breath forming clouds in front of you.  It was a little cold for your taste, but you quickly forgot about it as the three of you started your run.  You knew that they were slowing themselves down for you, but they didn't complain.

You were about two miles into the run when you finally got to the trail.  From there, it was another three miles to the spot that they were wanting to show you.  The sun still hadn't come up when you finally emerged from the trees, finding yourself on the edge of a cliff overlooking a river.  You could see the outline of the rolling hills as the sun finally began to rise behind the horizon.

"I remember the first time I went outside after the Avengers took me in," Bucky said as he sat on the edge, his legs hanging off.  You sat beside him, gingerly taking care to not fall.  Steve was on the other side of you, quietly listening.  "It was the middle of summer, and hot as hell.  I almost wanted to run into the forest and live there for the rest of my life, just so I wouldn't have to spend four months without fresh air ever again."

The sun was peeking over the hills, shining light on the bare trees.  "I feel human again," you said breathlessly.

The two of them smiled, and turned to watch as the sun got even higher in the sky.  It was the same feeling they had experienced years ago and still felt from time to time.

But that was just a in the forest.  This was going into the city and being around people that weren't a part of your little family.

It was also meeting the people that are most important to Peter.

He grabbed your suitcases along with his, despite your protests, and led you up the steps.  His Aunt May's apartment was on the fourth floor and there was no elevator.  Part of you expected him to be exhausted by the second floor, but then you remembered that he was Spider-Man.  He had super strength and all that just like Bucky and Steve.  He could handle a few flights of stairs.

Peter turned to you right before he opened the door, squeezing your hand in his.  "She's going to love you."  You simply nodded, and he opened up the door to lead you inside.  "Aunt May?!  I'm home!"

You watched as a woman who looked to be in her early-to-mid thirties came out of a room down the hall and came barreling towards the two of you.  You covered your mouth to hide your laughter, watching as she hugged Peter tightly.

It took only a few seconds for her to turn to you.  "You must be Y/N!  I'm Aunt May!  I've heard so much about you!"  You were shocked when she pulled you into a hug and watched Peter panic a little before realizing that you were hugging back.  The woman pulled back, holding your face in her hands as she got a good look at you.  "You're even prettier than Peter said you are!"

You laughed awkwardly as you looked down at the floor, your face hot.  "Thank you, Ms. Parker."

"Please, call me Aunt May."

Peter seemed stoked to have the two of you together as May took you on a tour, showing you all the rooms of the small apartment.  "And this is Peter's," she said as she opened up the last door in the hallway.

You grinned, looking at the boy behind you.  "Nice Star Wars sheets," you teased, nudging him playfully.  He grumbled as he nudged his hip back against yours.

"So, Y/N, tell me about yourself," Aunt May said as she was making dinner.  You and Peter were sitting at the kitchen table as you were talking with her.  "What do your parents do?"

Peter stiffened beside you, muttering, "May...  I told you..."

Her eyes widened as she must've remembered what details he had told her about you.  "Oh.  Oh, I am so sorry."

Clearing your throat, you sat up a little straighter as you looked down at your hands.  "No, it's okay.  Really."  Over the past few months, you had gotten to a point where you could talk about your mother without crying.  It was partially in thanks to your new therapist, Brenda.  She came twice a week.  Tony had set you up with her, since she was a therapist for most of the Avengers, too.  "My mama worked a lot of different jobs, though she was a bartender most of the time.  My dad wasn't exactly in the picture.  Left before I was born."

May nodded as she looked at you with sympathy, having turned around to pay complete attention to you.  "I get it.  My husband, Ben, died a few years ago."  She paused as her eyes went wide.  "It's been...  It's been almost eight years now."  Shaking her head, she turned back to the food.  You weren't sure what she was making, and it didn't exactly smell very good.  "Time flies, huh?"

Your heart hurt as you looked between her and Peter.  "You never told me your uncle died," you said softly.

He shrugged as he glanced away from you.  "I don't really like to talk about it."

You had known about his parents, but he had never told you about his uncle.  You had just thought that his Aunt May had never been married or something along those lines.  You stared at him for a long moment, reaching under the table and squeezing his hand.

May winced as she looked at the pots and pans in front of her.  "So, I don't really think this is going to work."

"What were you trying to make?" You asked, peering over towards the stove.  Almost everything was so burnt that you couldn't tell what it was.

She smiled sheepishly at you, rubbing her hands on her pants.  "I was trying to make Mexican food.  Peter mentioned that you and your mom used to make it from scratch, and I just wanted to bring a little bit of home to you."  May looked back at the food on the stove, groaning as she opened the oven and smoke came pouring out.  "I was trying to make beef empanadas and red chile cheese enchiladas since Peter mentioned that you've been wanting to stop eating meat other than fish.  I don't think it exactly worked."

You couldn't help but laugh, covering your mouth with your hand.  "It really means a lot.  Thank you."  Standing and walking over to the food, you examined it with a grimace.  "Tomorrow I can teach you?  We can start slow, with quesadillas and rice."

She breathed out a sigh of relief as she turned off the stove.  "I'd really like that."  Turning to Peter, she asked, "How's pizza sound?"

That night, the two of you crawled into Peter's twin-sized bed.  It was a tough squeeze, and you were both giggling as you tried to get comfortable in various positions.  Eventually Peter just pulled you on top of him, letting you rest your head on his chest.  His fingers ran through your hair soothingly, his other resting on your lower back.

"Why didn't you tell me about your uncle?"

Peter's fingers paused as he took in a deep breath.  "It was my fault that my Uncle Ben died."

"Peter, I'm sure it wasn't—"

He shook his head, and you went quiet.  "It was a few nights after I was bitten by that spider, and I, I, uh...  I got into a fight with Ben.  I missed curfew and so I stormed out of the apartment.  He followed after me and when he was looking for me..."

You grabbed his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together.  "You don't have to tell me if you're not ready."

He looked at you with such gratitude and adoration that you could burst on the spot.  But he continued, "He was shot trying to save someone from a mugging."

"Peter, I'm so sorry."

He pulled your hand up to his mouth, kissing your fingertips as he closed his eyes.  "He's the one that inspired me to become Spider-Man.  He always said that if you had the power to do some good in the world, then it was your responsibility to do it."  Peter smirked as he wrapped his arms around you, your head resting on his chest again as you took it as the cue that the conversation was over.  "He would've really loved you," he murmured as you fell asleep.

The next morning, you slowly slid out of Peter's grasp, trying your best not to wake him.  He had a little bit of drool running down his cheek and you grabbed your phone, snapping a quick picture before heading to the kitchen.

The smell of coffee warned you that Aunt May was awake before you actually saw her.  "Good morning."  Yawning, you murmured your thanks as she passed you a cup off coffee.

"Nice shirt."

You looked down, biting your lip as you realized you were in one of Peter's high school t-shirts and a pair of sleep shorts.  "Sorry, I just always sleep in his shirts."

"Even at the compound?"

Slowly nodding, you realized that maybe that wasn't the best move since you were trying to get her approval.

But May seemed to notice as she passed you the creamer.  "Don't worry.  I'm not upset."  She turned back to where she was making omelettes, one of the few dishes she could make without almost burning the house down.  "I haven't seen Peter this happy in a long time.  You two make a cute couple."

You choked on your coffee, coughing as you shook your head.  "We're not—We're just friends.  Not a couple."

The older woman looked at you in surprise as she flipped the omelette onto a plate.  She grabbed her own coffee, sipping at it as she leaned against the counter.  "Really?  I thought you..."  She shook her head, her eyebrows furrowing.  "With the way Peter talks about you, I just thought...  Nevermind."

She busied herself with making more omelettes, and you realized she was avoiding talking more about that.  Your mind was running a mile a minute, your heart pounding in your chest.  She thought you two were a couple?  You didn't know why it sent your heart racing.  Peter was just Peter.  The Peter who stayed with you so you wouldn't have nightmares.  The Peter who kissed your forehead and called you his angel.  The Peter that you would do anything for, the one that you would die for.

You liked Peter.

No.

You were in love with him.

You were sure that Aunt May could hear how loudly your heart was beating from where she stood across the kitchen.  How could she not?  It was possibly the loudest thing you had ever heard.

You jumped as you felt two arms wrap around you, Peter's head moving to rest on your shoulder.  "Good morning, angel," he whispered, his voice coated with sleep like honey.  He kissed your cheek and you looked up to see May raising an eyebrow at you.

"I—I need to go to the bathroom," you stuttered, pushing yourself out of your chair.  You practically ran to the bathroom and shut the door behind you.  Locking it, you looked at yourself in the mirror as you felt a wave of panic come over you.

You weren't good enough for Peter.  You might've gotten better over the past few months, but it was like domesticating a monster.  You were bound to break free and hurt someone eventually, and you'd be damned if that was going to be your best friend.  It didn't matter how much you loved him.  You would...  You would stay away from him.  The moment you got back to the compound after this little getaway.

You had to protect him from yourself.

Splashing your face with cold water a few times, you did your best to calm yourself, using the breathing technique that Peter had taught you.  Once you felt a little better, you plastered a smile on your face and went back to the kitchen.

"Hey, you, you okay?" Peter asked softly, his face filled with concern as he reached out for your hand to pull you to his chest.

You let him, knowing that you were going to have to distance yourself and all of the affectionate words and gestures would have to stop.  "Yeah.  Just felt a little sick.  But I'm good."

He hummed, kissing your forehead.  "Let me know if you feel sick again, okay?"

You didn't reply, instead just picking at the omelette that May had pushed in front of you with a knowing look.

Peter picked up his phone, frowning as he read a text message.  "Ned said that he can't make it.  He has to help his mom with something."  He looked back at you, clearly upset.  "I'm sorry.  I know how badly you wanted to meet him."

"It's okay," you insisted as you took a bite of the omelette finally.  You had just been pushing it around the plate.  "There's always next time."  You felt a little relieved.  If you didn't meet Ned in person, there would be one less person to keep at a distance after this weekend.

May turned to you, wiping her hands on a towel.  "So, after you're done eating, why don't you shower and then you can run to the store and get things for the enchiladas and rice?"

You smiled, mumbling a, "Sounds great," as you put your plate in the sink.  You ignored Peter and May's whispers as you locked yourself in the bathroom and started the shower.

You hated what you were about to do, but you knew it was the only way to keep Peter safe.

[legitlaur]

Deception 3 // Mysterio

pairing: Quentin Beck/Mysterio x Reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: none

Summary: Quentin helps you when you have a panic attack and stands up for Fury for you. When you confess feelings for him he debates whether or not to tell you the truth

<<<<Previous      Next>>>>

____________________

Agent Hill looked up from her tablet for only a split second, “Finally, we gotta move.” 

“Where are we going now?” You and Quentin asked in unison.

“Prague.” Fury barked behind you.

You turned around, “The Fire Elemental is going to Prague? What about the kid? I, um.” You turned to Quentin, “I’m feeling a little, a little light-headed.”

He grabbed you and sat you down next to him on the closest chair, “I think she's sick,” he told Fury, “I better take to Prague. It’ll be less chaotic, but I promise we will get there in no time.”

“Unacceptable, agent y/l/n is fine. She and you will travel with everyone else.”

Quentin stood up, leaving you nothing to lean on. He stood eye level with your boss, “y/n is a human being, not just an agent. Her health is a top priority and will come before the mission.”

“I’ve left you a car. You have 24 hours to get to Prague.”

“Thank you, sir,” you muttered.

Quentin rushed to you, “Let's get you back to the hotel room. Once I get you situated, I’ve got some errands I’ve got to run.”

You didn’t remember much, everything was a blur. Quentin put you in a car, buckled your seatbelt and held your hand. The next thing you knew you were in a different hotel than the one you slept the previous night.

“I’ll be back soon, get some sleep.” He tucked you into bed and kissed your forehead. 

_____

You couldn’t sleep very well. The stress of everything kept making you think and stress more. If your mind calmed down enough to sleep the nightmares came back. Always the same nightmare.

“I love you y/n.” your ex would always say.

You would always reply with, “I love you too.” 

He would pull a gun on you, the barrel touching your forehead. “I’m doing this because I love you. You need to get out of this place, this world its. This world is full of evil.”

You grip the knife in your hand, “You’re the evil.” when his back is turned you drive the knife into him. Breaking flesh you pushed the knife in further when you let go. You stood over his body, watching it thud onto the glass floor.

Shattering your world.

“Quentin?” you called into the empty darkness of your hotel room. 

There was no response. Your heart began racing, tears came crashing down.

He left me?

He, he lied to me?

It was all a trick!

Your throat was closing, unable to breathe you tried gasping for air. This was the end. You would die of suffocation, all the lies and illusions you’d been fed were blocking your airway. Life was being sucked right out of you. There was nothing, you were ready. Finally.

The light the bright, you squinted from the pain. Something warm was holding you, your fragile body was pressed up against something warm and sturdy.

It wasn’t until his hands were running through your hair that you could hear someone speaking.

“Sssh. You’re safe y/n, I’ll protect you.” His silky voice kept repeating.

You didn’t speak, instead, you grabbed his shirt. Pulling him closer, he wrapped his arms around you even tighter, “I won’t let you go.”

You stayed there until fell asleep in his arms. When you woke up you were in the car again.

“Good morning,” the silky voice welcomed you back to life.

You rubbed your eyes and sat up, “How far until Prague?” 

He took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, “We’ll be there soon.”

You kept looking at your shoes, “I’m really sorry you have to deal with me. I can’t be left alone for like what? An hour?”

“Don’t do that.” His voice sounded angry. 

“Do what?”

He sighed, “Blame yourself. It’s not your fault. Remember I told you how I was a mess when my wife died?”

You nodded. 

“I didn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, I had panic attacks all the time. Much worse than what happened to you today. I truly think if my world was still around they would’ve locked me up. Things get messy when you have powers and you freak out.” He began laughing, “You can’t blame yourself, he was probably HYDRA before you fell in love with him. There was nothing you could’ve done.”

“You’re really good at the whole pep-talk thing. I really owe you, Quentin. You’ve practically saved my life.”

He squeezed your hand, a feeling becoming so familiar you were scared to not have it. “You don’t owe me anything y/n. I’m doing what Fury should have done long ago.”

You fell back asleep and woke up in Prague. Quentin reminded you that food was a thing, he watched you eat a bowl of fruit. Once you had some energy the two of you heading to meet Fury. 

You were completely aware that he would yell at you in front of everyone and tell you to get your act together, his boots stomping into the room gave you a moment to take a deep breath and prepare yourself for the lecture of a lifetime. 

Instead of hearing a rough voice, you heard Quentin’s soft and gentle voice, “Fury, may I talk to you privately?” 

You grabbed his shoulder, “What are you doing?” 

His blue eyes showed the sorrow he felt, “Something someone should have done long ago.”

Fury followed him out of the room. 

“What was that about?” Hill mumbled. 

You shrugged, “Do you need any help?” 

“Make sure all agents are accounted for and send them all to the quinjet. There are lots of things to be unloaded”

You went to work, this was something you could easily do. Not fieldwork, but management. If only Fury understood that you have other skills and you’re more than just a field agent.

You finished gathering everyone to the quinjet, all that was left was to facilitate the group. 

“Y/n pack your bags, I’m sending you home. Await further instructions once you land in DC” Fury's voice called out.

You spun around, Quentin was behind him smiling at you. “Wait, what? You’re sending me home? Why?”

Fury turned to Quentin, “Mr. Beck brought up some concerns about your involvement in this mission. He has asked to escort you to the airport. Go.”

Before he changed his mind you rushed Quentin to the car you were in  “What did you say to him?” You threw your tablet in the bag and put your hair in a ponytail. “Fury never changes his mind, you must be very persuasive.”

His gentle hands took yours, “Sit down,” he guided you to the passenger seat, “I told him about your condition, and that you are too unstable to be a field agent. When he didn’t agree, I told him I would back out if he didn’t send you home.” 

Your throat went dry, “Thank you.”

He squeezed your hands, “You need help. I’m going to get if for you, but first, let’s get you home.”

Quentin held your hand the whole car ride. You were beginning to question whether you were more than friends.

“Quentin?”

He took his eyes off the road, “Yeah?”

Inhaling you asked, “Why are you being so kind to me?”

There was a small smile creeping onto his face, “When I first saw your photo in the file Fury gave me I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”

Your eyes were pooling with tears, “Beck.”

He pulled into the airport parking lot, “I kept reading and you were so talented.” Changing the gear into park he turned, his whole body was facing towards you, “You were even more beautiful in person. Then when I saw you crying in the hall, I knew it was something serious. A SHIELD agent doesn’t break down easily.” 

The tears finally fell, with a mix of crying you laughed, “You’d be surprised.”

Quentin wiped away your tears, “y/n why are you crying?” he almost chuckled. 

You grabbed his hand before it left your cheek, “I just think it’s crazy. Somehow I am falling for a man from a different world, and that’s not even the craziest part.” 

“What’s the craziest part?”

You weren’t even sure if what you were about to say is true, but if it wasn’t then you definitely needed to go home. “I think he’s falling for me too.”

“He’s falling,” Quentin’s other hand grabbed your chin, pulling your face closer to him, “Is this okay?”

Your heart was racing, your voice came out as a small whisper, “yes.”

His lips pressed against yours. He was so gentle and soft. It was quick and sweet, a perfect kiss. 

“Please don’t hate me but, I need to complete this mission.” You cupped his cheeks in your hands, “I’m eternally grateful to you for standing up to Fury. But I’ve never failed a mission and I don’t want to ruin that streak, also I don’t think I can take care of myself as well as you can take care of me.” 

He put his hands over yours, “I don’t hate you, I understand.” He let go and turned to face the steering wheel.

“Quentin?” 

“I need to think,” his voice was more rough than usual.

You felt the silence weighing you down, something bad was happening. He must have planned to send you home, kiss you once and send you home with no strings attached.

“If you don’t want anything to do with me, please just tell me the truth. I can handle it, I can’t handle this silence.”

 “You want the truth?” He sounded scared.

“That's all I’ve ever wanted.” you were nearly yelling.

He reversed out of the parking lot and sped through the city, “The truth y/n, I’m afraid you’re not going to like.”

You interrupted, “Where are you taking me?”

“One thing I need you to know before is that everything I feel about you, that I want to help you, is all true, 100 percent.”

“Quentin! What are you talking about, and where are you taking me?” You were screaming now.

He pulled up to a warehouse, “To the truth, come with me.”

He opened his car door, ran around and opened yours, “Please,” he reached his hand out towards you.

“I’m not going to get murdered right?” You half-joked.

His smile faded, “No but you’ll want to murder me.” His hand pulled you close to him as he walked into the warehouse.

“My name is Quentin Beck, I was born on this Earth. There is no multiverse, that we know of. I don’t have powers, and Mysterio is a trick.” His let go of your hand and ran up to a table with multiple computers on it.

“Mysterio is a trick?” You repeated to yourself.

He was trying feverishly, “I’ll show you. I wanted to give the world something to believe in. Iron Man is gone, so many people have lost hope. I want to give the world hope again.” 

“People believe you? Fury? No, I saw first hand, your powers are real.” You argued.

“It's easy to fool people when they’re already fooling themselves.”

Your lip trembled, “Quentin, you lied to me.”

He ran up to you and grabbed your hands, pulling them up to his chest, “I know, but it won’t work if it's not kept a secret, and now that you know you can help. Then I’ll take care of you and we can be together.”

“Can we?”

a/n: i actually have no clue if I should do a next part, lmk

[wordsturnintostories]

we're pack, moonchild.

Seokjin | Yoongi | Hoseok | Namjoon | Jimin | Taehyung | Jungkook

Masterlist

Summary: Kim Seokjin. It’s him who introduces you to the world that is this school. The first year with him passes quickly. [a drabble in which you go to the same school with the Bangtan gang and are tiring to figure out if that’s what they really are. a gang? or a pack?] Word Count: +1.5k Note: Kim Seokjin, a fine man. Took me a while to write this but once I had an idea of what I wanted to see, the drabble really surprised me. I hope you like it. Make sure to read Namjoon's chapter first ✨ college!au, supernatural!au

Gif not mine, credits to the owner.

It’s Kim Seokjin who introduces you to the world that is this school. He’s a steady presence, encouraging and genuine and even if there’s no time to hang around the kind senior after the first year in which he is your guidance student, coincidental meetings in the hallways become your most treasured moments at this place.

The first year with him passes quickly. The first days are full of orientational stuff, full of faces with no names and words without a guarantee of sticking to your brain. Everything that is new demands your attention and Seokjin offers a vantage point, an opportunity to look at the mess from above. After a quick while, you can finally put meaning to the strange stares you receive whenever Seokjin treats you like a younger sister, whenever he pats your head and whenever he graces you with those high pitched, rollercoaster laughs of his. Kim Seokjin is one of those reoccurring, unavoidable topics at this school for some reason.

Half the students’ body spends their day admiring his body, the other half spends it admiring his wallet. If you want to believe rumors, he owns a restaurant downtown and apparently, his mother has won a Miss Korea contest before, not that you can confirm or deny these things when people try to interrogate you. Despite his obvious generosity with you, you’d never thought about asking about his family’s financial situation. How shallow, you think. While that matters to the entire school, it doesn’t to you.

Seokjin has been there for you during orientation week and after and whenever you see him now, you feel better afterward. He never fails to crack a joke, never fails to crack your bad moods. His life philosophy raises you up. Money can’t buy that, you decide and revel in the fact that people don’t get to see there deeper, more sincere parts of Seokjin just because of their pettiness and stupidity. To be honest, you prefer his company even over many of your own friends from your classes (not that there’s a ton), simply because he finds ways to be real with you. Even if you don’t talk about everything on your minds, you strengthen each other. It’s refreshing to see someone ask about your interests with actual affection.

So, considering how your relationship with Seokjin works, your little paradisiacal world crashes when you notice him in passing by the parking lots one day. Half-hidden between cars, his tall form is crumpled on the ground and he’s crying. One mess follows the next when you notice his arm is covered in blood. You run towards him to help, but Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin emerge from behind another car and help him up. Their appearance is more than suspicious, there’s no denying that you would rather they would stay away from your friend. It makes you freeze and stay at a distance, even hide when they scan the parking lots.

One thing that you had admired Seokjin for was his smart mind. He always knew what wanted from him. He would never let himself be dragged into certain cliques or friend groups, no matter his level of popularity. He didn’t care for becoming some sort of object of prestige for them. And now, the Bangtan gang has gotten to him, or better, has taken him by force.

When you deem it safe to run to him, there’s a black dog trailing after Kim Namjoon and Kim Taehyung, who has joined the other two. It’s intimidating, reaching up to Namjoon’s waist, blood on his snout and a growl to make anyone run for the hills. After overcoming your goosebumps, you stay where you are, letting your heart ache and Bangtan take your friend. When Seokjin, a sweating, sobbing Seokjin notices you and shouts for you to stay away, it feels like you’ve lost a part of yourself to the dark side.

And sure enough, on the day after that jarring experience, you choose a seat in class that’s close to the windows so you can keep an eye on the school’s door, there’s Seokjin, paraded by the Bangtan gang as they enter school fashionably late - as they always do. (Not that any teacher cares. Some people still insist that even the principal bows to Kim Namjoon.) Seokjin looks better that morning, fresh and energized - as if the gang had revived something forgotten in him. He’s almost glowing. It makes you frown and wonder what Bangtan did to him. Just this image turns your silent optimism into a sour mood. The entire day there are intrusive thoughts you can’t shake; the entire day you receive a few sympathetic glances from him but when those aren’t backed up by actual attempts to seek conversation, the effect is gone. It’s simply incomprehensible how he could become so untrue to himself to hang out with them. When the gang walks past you, calling him Jin instead of his full name, you snort. There’s a shimmer of hope to find an old thing about your friend hidden from their view, stashed away until your return. When Seokjin answers the call enthusiastically, accepting the new name without blinking, even that flies away.

Maybe there’s some secret that could explain everything, but that thought stings even more. That you might have become one of those people who don’t know a thing about what’s going on with the real Seokjin. You wonder to what extent the Bangtan gang knows him, how much he would dare to open up for them.

When you notice Kim Seokjin bowing to Kim Namjoon for the first time, surprise is an understatement. You feel stunned, actually, to see the elder honor the younger so demonstratively. That’s definitely something to jot down in your notebook of observations, just like the way Seokjin switches drastically from drinking coffee to drinking only teas and water. Still, despite the reversed roles in the age-hierarchy of your community, there’s no doubt about Seokjin being older - he’s one grade above Namjoon (who skipped a grade, which is widely known), and he still reserves himself the right to tell the dimple-cheeked boy what to do and to honor his elders. Age is important to Seokjin, you know that. This display of submission is just one indicator of how the gang dynamic works. You can’t say that you like it, but then again, you might be a little biased.

Then, during recess, when your mood is the lowest, you watch Jimin hug Seokjin from behind, even jumping on his back in an attempt to snatch the elder’s food, and whispering something in his ear to distract him. Against your expectations, Seokjin lets him (you know he doesn’t like touchy-touchy people who get too close), and moreover, he smiles. Then, he opens a new conversation that has everyone involved immediately. Apparently, this new constellation of people has not only you but also the rest of the school shocked. Even the school’s newspaper discusses the news in some not-so-clandestine way.

The following days, you make a firm decision from the moment you move your head off your pillow. I will not spend time obsessing over Seokjin today. I will live my own life, be happy and forget about this rather than being miserable. If he thinks we’re still friends, he should come to me and explain. The plan works - for three hours. Even though you’re determined not to look at Seokjin, everyone else does. Also, the Bangtan gang is present everywhere somehow, always pushing into your line of vision without permission. Additionally, your fingers still itch to keep notes about the other members. So in the end, you can’t help but pick up your notebook and give in to the urge of figuring out Bangtan’s secret.

When you face the wolves, it’s strange. At first, you don’t understand the Seokjin’s role in the pack at all. He’s everywhere, spending time with every wolf in a different way, then just running around, nipping the younger ones playfully despite his rank as the oldest. It’s like he doesn’t fit into the concepts of ranks between wolves that you’ve read up on. You truly can’t predict what he will do next.

But after a while of observing the wolves interact, it clicks. It’s the moment he pushes Jungkook to meet you. The strong black wolf seems nervous to make contact, but the elder is kind and convincing. He watches as Jungkook tentatively offers his head for you to scratch, ears always conveying his mood towards you. Instead of interrupting the two of you, Seokjin patiently walks off, nestling his side into Namjoon, who has jumped off the rock to join the family.

Seokjin is the backbone. He’s the spine of the pack, connecting everyone, enabling everyone to function coherently, as a unit. He’s the older brother for the pack just like he was an older brother for you during your first days at a new school. He’s the essence of home in a pack of wild, vulnerable minds. When you return to Namjoon from meeting everyone, Seokjin is there, offering his side for you to sit down and lean against, like a warm, soft pillow-wall instead of a mattress.

“I missed you,” he whispers in your mind, with all the good memories of your time together flowing towards you in a single, buzzing stream of consciousness, creating this wonderful dream-like state of comfort and reminiscent serendipity, “my little flower.”

Thanks for reading! :)

Masterlist | moodboard masterlist

taglist: @xmagicxshopx, @jiminnies-baby, @inappropriatepirate, @dope-boss

Seokjin | Yoongi | Hoseok | Namjoon | Jimin | Taehyung | Jungkook

[avengers-nextgen]

AU Propositions

So, I have been thinking about doing an AU along with the main series. Below are the theee options I’m willing to write! Each has a snippet or sample of material for that given AU. Please vote on which one you’d like to see based off of wha I’ve written.

— — —

Apocalypse

Factions, were all that remained. Years ago the government was overthrown, the world dissolved into chaos, and loyalty became an illusion. Patriotism no longer existed, one governing body was replaced with many, maps were re-made, and alliances dictated territory.

Ram shackled buildings made up towns, and once superior technology was now lost. The wars had ravaged scientific advancement putting the world’s technological timeline in reverse.

Enemies lurked at every corner as nations tried to re-establish themselves. Safety didn’t exist.

The only hope anyone had was the next generation-the offspring of surviving fighters. Tides were beginning to shift, and alliances were converging to form four powerful states. Keeping peace was increasingly difficult, but the few unattached townships were looking to restore America. If one nation could rebuild itself, then others could too.

— — —

A bullet ridden sign held a few straggling letters naming the town NEW O, also known as ground Zero.

Smoke wafted into the sky, streaming up in plumes from piped chimneys.

“The stables aren’t far,” James assured, stepping aside as a barefoot kid ran past, “we take a ride down south and check on Havoc Sector.”

“Right, my favorite place to be,” Piper sighed, adjusting her backpack.

“It’s just a quick round up,” Alex tried to brighten the mood, “nothing major. Get the medicine, distribute it, and head home.”

“Last time we sent someone to distribute supplies they were killed.” Piper reminded the two siblings.

“Which is why there’s three of us.” James pressed his lips into a thin line.

— — —

Havoc Sector was a shit hole. The only reason none of the states wanted its service was because of its poverty. They had nothing to offer anyone. In fact, Havoc Sector was lucky they even had support from New 0.

“It’s infected,” The Doctor pursed his lips, “I’m not sure there’s anything we can do.”

“There has to be something,” Bianca insisted, looking at her discolored arm. The large cut from a work related accident had become severely infected.

“I’m sorry, no medicine can treat this-let alone if we had any.” Part of Bianca wanted to kill the man. He claimed to be medically certified, and maybe he was once upon a time, but the equipment now just wasn’t the same. His abilities were limited.

“I’ll go somewhere else then,” Bianca decided.

“And where will that be?” The doctor frowned.

“The Skids,” Bianca’s assertive tone surprised the doctor, but he was more surprised by the selected location.

“If you go to the Skids you’ll die for certain.” He made no move to stop Bianca from stumbling to her feet.

“So be it.”

— — —

A fist rocked into her face pushing her back against the dusty wall. All around people crowded and yelled at the scene before them. Just beige her opponent could take the advantage, Sage slammed her foot down against their knee.

With a sickening pop the other girl dropped with a cry of pain. Using the back of her arm, Sage wiped the blood from her face, and grasped the unfortunate competitor by the front of her tank top, “Yield.”

“Not a chance.”

“You know what happens if you don’t.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

The crowd roared angrily and slammed their hands down upon rickety wood tables.

Kill

Kill

KILL

KILL!

“You heard them,” The girl smiled thinly. Sage nodded and quick as a wink she snapped the other girl’s neck letting her drop to the ground. With the thud of the body the room dissolved into complete chaos.

Sage scampered from the ring and snatched up her winnings before heading off.

She’d changed quickly, and was now pedaling swiftly towards home. Her mother was sick and dying, if she’d gathered enough money there was a chance she could afford a hospital room. The Skids was a cutthroat place. A place for criminals, but because of that-they had the best health care possible.

80s

“Throw the ball!” Piper yelled, tapping the bat on the base outlined in the dirt. James brought his leg up slow, making the movements grander than they needed to be, before throwing the mall. It whistled through the air in a perfect spin as Piper swung the wooden bat.

A loud crack resounded signaling a solid hit. James glanced at the sky trying to follow the ball as Piper took off to where Scout stood prepped at first base. Orion charged in from the outfield sprawling out flat in an attempt to catch the ball. Recovering he slung it towards second base forcing Piper into a dive.

Nathaniel snagged the ball from the air, stopped over to tap Piper, and cursed when she beat him. “Safe.”

“Yes!” Thalia clapped. Piper stood to dust herself off, all the while taking a bow.

With a sigh James took his place on the mound once more. Adjusting the cap on his head he wiped at the glistening sweat with the back of his arm.

“Hold up,” Scout called, checking his watch, “shit. We gotta go! School is soon.”

Nothing else was said as they all picked up the baseball equipment. An onlooker would have laughed watching a bunch of teens scramble across the dusty field, up and over the hill, down the other side, and disappear in the neighborhood.

— — —

“You have to work on your pitching,” Nathaniel joked accompanying his younger friends to school. College had yet to start for him so he enjoyed the morning cycle to school without the anxiety of having to do any learning.

“You pitch next time,” James huffed, taking the corner sharp into the parking lot. Kids were scrambling out of cars and racing up the steps to meet friends.

“That hit though,” Alex winked at Piper who puffed her chest out in pride. They rode past a car blasting U2 and shortly after another playing ABBA.

“The music tastes of some of these people,” Orion shook his head in dismay.

The conversation was interrupted as an engine came screaming by, a motorcycle sped past sliding into a parking space with ease.

“Hey! Watch it!” James yelled, “You yield to us.”

“Says who? It’s a parking lot. Everyone yields to everyone dip shit,” James’ brows arched in surprise as the biker jerked off their helmet to reveal an intimidating girl with short choppy black hair.

“Attitude,” Alex hummed earning a snicker from Piper. Shaking his head James lead the group to the bike rack.

“Some people have serious nerve,” Scout frowned.

“You get used to it,” Orion assured him hopping up onto the nearby wall, “see you all later.”

— — —

“Glad to see you decided to turn up,” Bianca turned to see her friend climbing the steps to the front of the school.

“I’m still a bit nervous,” Bianca admitted. She’d managed to snag a prosthetic but it wasn’t exactly the most function-able or attractive device.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sage promised holding the door open for her, “I’ll kill anyone who says anything about it.”

“Murder on the first day seems a bit excessive,” Bianca laughed.

“So does getting math homework,” Sage countered.

— — —

“This place is ghastly,” Penny frowned.

“Why? Because you learn stuff?” Chloe asked, arching a brow.

“It’s a prison.” Penny insisted.

“Thanks for that, I can finally cross going to jail off of my bucket list.” Penny rolled her eyes at Chloe before turning her attention to Arthur.

“How’re you holding up?”

“Honestly I am terrified,” Arthur mumbled. The news was all over the place with people who’d been beat up or killed for being gay, lesbian, and trans.

“Just remember to be careful,” Chloe warned.

“Why the fuck wouldn’t I be?” Arthur glowered.

“I’m just saying-“

“Yeah, you don’t want to move schools again I know.”

“Arthur, I’m not mad at you.” Chloe looked a bit offended, “but not everyone is like us. Some people are cruel.”

“The newspapers made me well aware of that,” Arthur swallowed hard, his heart hammering in his chest at too fast of a pace. He was pretty sure he was already sweating.

Demigod

Capture the flag was the olympics of camp half blood. The winner didn’t earn a week of chores, gained honor, and best of all-bragging rights. There was nothing worse than watching people fume over defeat.

Even the campfires were fun if the participation was high enough. Maybe the music wasn’t the best but it got the job done. If anything, it allowed people to be completely unhinged.

Dinner was wonderful too, there were people to laugh with, tell stories with, and simple talk too. It was a vibrant atmosphere meant to be welcoming, but it was also a lonely type of place. There were those who felt confined, restricted, and unwanted.

Chloe hated her cabin. The perfume gave her a headache, the gossip was annoying, and they didn’t value a whole lot. Of course, not every child of Aphrodite was like that, but stigmas existed for a reason. The only one who’d gotten anything good out of the deal was Arthur. A perfect body, the one he always wanted, and with none of the pain.

Even Piper was dissatisfied. There was only so much a person could do with the limited equipment. She had big plans, big desires, and being confined to share a forge was infuriating. Her only solace was Siyanda who seemed to understand the struggle.

As for Scout, there was more to being smart than knowing facts. He was stuck in a cabin full of one uppers. Nothing anyone did was good enough, and someone always came up with something better. He was sick of it. Not to mention everyone’s ideas seemed to follow the same pattern. Originality didn’t seem to be valued as much as tradition did.

Penny and Orion were stuck in the most crowded cabin where something was always missing because someone always took something. You could barely even trust your own siblings with objects for fear they’d take it or sell it for something better. Personal possessions weren’t much of a privilege for them.

James and Alex had a relatively empty cabin. Everyone was pretty alright until it came to intense competitions, then all hell broke loose. People would argue over athletes about who was better or not, and it could go on for days. No one ever admitted defeat, that they were wrong, or that they weren’t as good as their ego said they were.

Violence was quite the go to response for people in the Ares cabin, but it didn’t come naturally to some. Thalia refrained from unseeded conflict at all costs, and instead advocated for peace more often than not. Bianca just wanted to be left alone. She barely spoke to anyone, and they all assumed it had to do with the age old incident.

Being a child of Nemesis meant no one wanted to befriend you. Not to mention the history of Nemesis children at camp. Fox found herself trying to be as detached as possible, but it was hard when people tried to piss you off to see what would happen.

As for Nathaniel, the poor boy didn’t catch a break. He taught archery every chance he got or helped out in the medical wing, but there was one cot that no one touched. It was practically forbidden, but that almost made it worse.

Enzo fit right in with the other peppy magic kids. He went about practicing his powers all day, loved to participate in group activities, and cabin bonding moments. Sage, however, kept to herself on the top bunk in the dark back corner of the rather unpopulated cabin. She found their happiness sickening, and spent most of her time curled up staring at the wall. No one bothered to drag her into activities anymore.

[rohobi]

Pulse 02 | (m)

Kim Taehyung | Medical AU |  Smut | Angst | Trauma | Patient death | Medical Jargon | Medical Inaccuracies | Mature Content | Multi-fandom Medical Team | 

CHAPTER 2 SUMMARY: ❝ I’ll only take a minute ❞

↳ INDEX → CHAPTER 3 

↣ THE BEGINNING OF THE END When you woke up that morning, kissed your daughter and made her breakfast, you honestly thought it would be a normal day.

Because who wouldn’t? You were living in the city, in a nice Bungalow and Craftsman style family home in the suburbs. The sun was still rising, mellow hues of golden light bloomed in every crevice of the distant hills. A chorus of birds still sang from the trees outside your home, it wouldn't be long until they joined the cacophony of congestion; the sound of horns and drivers aggression. 

You lived a long drive away from your hospital but a short drive away from everything else. Forest Lakes Hospital was a rural hospital adjacent to a military camp. The acuity was nothing in comparison to Seoul Hearts Emergency Department but it still maintained a large patient load everyday. This was due to the atrocities practiced in the camp, to injured farmers in the farmlands and VIP patients who are flown in via helicopter for the privacy.

You loved working there but sometimes things happen, unexplainable things that made you feel like you were a pawn on someone else's chessboard. The thunderous clouds of hospital politics loomed so close that you feared, it would strike you down one day.

And maybe, today was that day.

“When’s Jimin coming out?” your daughter had asked, food smeared all over her face. “I want to see him already.”

You had laughed loudly at the girl, tying your wet hair into a bun.

Sunny had been humming under her breath that morning, fumbling in her seat to the song playing on Jungkook’s speaker in the bathroom. In her 4 year old childish mirth, she had been waiting for the sound of Jimin's rambunctious alarm clock. So she could see her favourite uncle.

“Don’t wake him up Sun-

Jimin's alarm clock had sounded like a rubbish truck reversing as it jarred through the morning peace of your home. Her face lit up immediately. 

You were sure that annoying alarm clock was her favourite sound. 

-chimmy!” she had squealed as soon as the sound hit her little ears. You had watched as she raced out of her seat, feet slapping against the wooden floor towards his wooden bedroom door.

“Great, my child has been conditioned.”

In great timing, Jungkook had turned off the shower and his music at the same time. Jungkook was a junior doctor in your department, one who answered to you. He was supposed to be on the same shift today as you but the boy habitually left home and arrived when he wanted to.

It would’ve been better if he hadn’t turned up at all.

Sunny stood on her tippy toes trying to open Jimin's door so she could jump up onto his bed and cuddle. You had watched the entire ordeal from behind the kitchen bench, her incessant desire for affection …it really and honestly reminded you of him.

Sometimes she does things and you wonder how she is so much like him when she doesn’t even know him. She was a beautiful genetic mosaic of the both of you but as she grew, it was increasingly noticeable. 

Sunny looked and acted exactly like Kim Taehyung. 

“Sunny sun sun sun!” Jimin croked, opening his arms to her. “My baby!” 

The sound of her laughter as he tickled her, fluttered peacefully throughout your home as you walked back into the kitchen. You never thought in that moment, that it could’ve been the last time you'd ever hear her sweet dulcet laughter because who does?

“I need a doctor,” Jimin had stammered, limping to the living room, “I have a growth on my foot and it’s smiling up at me like a gremlin. Diagnosis?”

Sunny had wrapped herself around his foot, looking quite pleased with herself as he dragged his feet towards the couch.

Grinning, you had announced in a deep and serious tone.“I’m afraid it’s Sunnyitis.”

“Prognosis?” Jimin feux sobbed, “Am I going to die?” 

“Prognosis is 14 years. With tender, love and care, you’ll be fine.”

“Well, I can deal with that.” Jimin had smiled in greeting at you before falling onto the couch, letting her crawl onto his lap. “I have an afternoon shift, mind if I catch a lift with you back?” he had asked and you had nodded enthusiastically, “Sounds good! Will give me something to look forward too. We have much to chat regarding your little boyfriend my love.”

Jimin had blushed, gasping loudly at you. "Yoongi is not little, he's big, like really-

-I honestly don’t need to know and if you’re taking this conversation where I think you’re going with it, it explains the noise," you snort, lifting your cup of coffee to your mouth. “Who knew Min Yoongi had it in him?” 

Jimin gasps even louder. "If you're assuming I'm a bottom, I am not. I am versatile, thank you."

Silence. 

"What?" You raise your brows in confusion. "No one was asking? Where did that come from?”

You had grown close to Jimin, even going as far as to calling him your bestfriend. Somehow, after everything that you've been through, it was just right that he took up that space in your life. He earned it.

He stayed.

And staying meant that you shared something special enough to tolerate.

Jungkook walks out of the bathroom, shirtless with a towel wrapped around his waist. "Did Jimin just say he was versatile?"

"Weird, right?" You nod, looking anywhere but at the boys honey coloured abs. "I think he's trying to tell us something."

“Well, there is no way in hell,” Jungkook laughs, sizing Jimin up. “No way in fresh hell that you aren't a bottom.”

"Is this a conversation we should be seriously having while sunny is in the room?" he shouts, covering her ears. "Who knows what she'll hear from anything we say?"

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "I ask that everytime Yoongi comes over and all I can hear is-” he clears his throat, putting on a thick Russian accent, "-oh Yoongi, put it it in, yeah, daddy, ooh ahh, oof, i’m done." You're one to talk."

"Then don't put your ear up to the door at night Jungkook, you creep," he snaps, throwing a pillow at Jungkook's chest. Sunny laughs. Jimin covers her ears tighter, "I know you want me, you little-

"-here we go," you roll your eyes, tipping the rest of your coffee down the sink and leaving the mug there, "I hate to break whatever you two are arguing about but it's crossing the boundary of what she can and can not understand, and therefore I suggest you stop.”

"What if I do?" Jungkook muses, wiggling his brows at Jimin. “What would you do?” 

"God, get me out of here," Grabbing your stethoscope, you lean over the couch and grab Sunnys head, kissing it as per usual, "Baby, I'll see you when I get home. Try to keep your clothes on today and no playing with the neighbours dog, he's dirty."

"But ma," She pouts, hiding her face in the crook of Jimin's neck. "I want a puppy and Alfie likes me."

"Awh, Sun," Patting her back, Jimin pouts at you too. "I want a puppy too."

"That's what your boyfriends for Jimin," You said, scowling at the orange haired boy, "Honestly, both of you are just as bad as each other. I'm off, see you all tonight and tomorrow."

"Bye mamma, see you when you get back." Sunny had shouted after you.

Leaving the girls and Jimin to their days, you had tied your laces in triple knots before draping your white coat over your shoulder and dragging your feet to your car. Sunny had waved goodbye from the lounge room window and you had tooted as you drove away.

The sun had rolled out from the hills, shining brightly in a cerulean sky as you drove past Seoul Hearts Hospital and out past the evergreen, toward Forest Lakes. You had picked up Seokjin and Dr. Xiumin from their shared home on the way, listening to rock music to mentally prepare yourself for the rest of the day.

Jin sat in the front, an occupational hazard.

Xiumin stared at you from the back, something you occupationally ignored.

Forced to park the car a street away from the hospital, Seokjin had groaned loudly at the lack of staff parking as you all walked the distance to the Emergency Department.

There had been an abnormally large amount of parked black and white SUV's taking up spaces, forcing patients and staff to park elsewhere. In other ways, it was a blessing but in every other way, it was a sign that something wasn’t right.

Somehow, that should’ve alarmed you.

But it didn’t.

On arrival, Namjoon had greeted his partner Seokjin with a kiss on his cheek and you watched them walk towards his office with smiles drawn across their faces.

Xiumin smiled delicately with a watermelon blush, wishing you a good day. Minus the blush, you had done the same to him. It was the simple little things that made today feel like it could be like every other day in the department, except that everything about it wasn’t.

Medical school may have prepared you and equipped you to be good at saving people, but it definitely and most certainly did not prepare you enough to save yourself.

Especially on what was supposed to be a completely normal day.

↣ FOREST LAKES HOSPITAL | Dr. Y/N and Jeon Jungkook

It was anything but a normal day, that was so horrendously clear from the state of the hospital.  

Panic had surged through the hallways of Forest Lakes when the alarm was triggered and people dispersed from the hospital, running like razor sharp autumn leaves against each other.

White coats flew past you, carrying babies and small children. Blue and red lights lit up the night sky, streaking through the windows. 

Adrenaline ran through your veins.

Tension clung to the air; the smell of fear so pungent, it asphyxiated any room for sound judgement as chaos painted the white halls with a reddish-brown reminder of the in-progress code black .

People ran and pushed, people fell and people got hurt.

You had watched it all as you stood beside Irene and the patient bed outside of the trauma bay, waiting for safe passage through the hallway ahead. It was so loud, machines beeped, people screamed, wailed and yelled, babies cried, nurses tried to reassure and calm people down, phones rang incessantly. It was a chorus of everything you never wanted to hear at the same time.

Nurses pushed past you; doctors helped their patients escape; junior doctors cleared rooms; and you waited until it was clear, until it was safe. 

But it never would be. 

“Yah, how much time do we have?” you asked, grabbing Namjoon’s arm as he ran past you, “Who told you these orders?”

He stops, yanked back by you. “Y/N, why are you still here?” He says, looking at both you and Irene in concern.

“We're waiting until it's a little less mental down there,” You nod your head to the chaos ahead. “Who gave the orders?”

Perspiration dripped down the sides of his face as he pants. “Someone triggered a silent emergency alarm in the VIP wing. Did you see all those cars in the carpark today?” he stepped close, whispering in your ear, “Politicians and athletes are in that wing being treated and we think it might be something to do with the-

“Wait,” Your heart thumped loudly in your chest. “Isn’t Dr. Hoff in that wing?”

He nodded, stepping back. “Yes. While you were in surgery, he offered to go in your place.”

“What the fuck?” you stammered with tears glistening your eyes, “Namjoon.”

“I know,” he says, taking a deep breath. “Make sure everyone gets out after you, don’t stay here too long.” 

“Do you think Dr. Hoff will be okay?” you ask, guilt settling itself in the pit of your stomach.

“Look, we don’t have time for this. I’m sure he’ll be fine. We have to get the fuck out of here. Call me when you’re at Seoul Hearts so I can clear you as safe,” Namjoon had said, brushing your arm away from his. Running down the hallway, sneakers squeaking as he ran, he shouts back. “I mean it Y/N, you better call me. Keep Seokjin safe.”

You watch him rush through the crowd and then through the automatic sliding doors, throwing himself into the cold night, running towards the red and blue embers of a parked ambulance nearby.

That could’ve been you up in the VIP ward?

* * *

“Y/N, we need to go now. Load the patient into the back Irene,” Seokjin yelled, shoving his key into the ambulance ignition. “Jimin and Irene, let’s get a move on! Go, go, go!”

The wind swept through the loose strands of hair dangling around your face as you stood underneath the brightly lit red Emergency Department sign watching them from across the carpark. It was dark and suddenly desolate as all the cars and ambulances sped quickly away, how everyone managed to get out, amazed you.

It was suddenly silent.

You weren't sure if that was relieving or not.

"Jin, I honestly think someone is still in there and Namjoon told me to make sure everyone got out okay," You shout, yelling across the car park. He had frowned back at you, as though you had said something so daring to him. "I'm serious, we can't leave knowing someone might still be in there."

"Namjoon cleared all the rooms before he left, no one is in there Y/N." Seokjin shouted back, throwing his bags in the front seat, “Get here and get in, we don't have time. Everyone else is gone, we should be enroute to Seoul Hearts right now, who knows what will happen if we don't go.”

"I think I heard someone yelling for help though!"

Throwing his cap into the ambulance, he shouts. "You're hallucinating!"

But you weren't. You had an itch. A sinking fucking feeling pulling you like a magnet back inside.

“Come on guys!” Seokjin rushed, jumping back into the front seat and closing the door, “Get in and let’s go!”

You watched them all argue with each other over resources the ambulance didn’t have while you had tossed up the decision to run back in. It was stupid to even think you could be a hero and save someone, when the person in this situation who would need saving, was you.

You watch Jimin and Irene jump into the back of the ambulance after pushing the patient in. You look back to the doors. 

You’d be okay. 

It would only be a second. 

In and then out.

Whispering, “Fuck it.” you run as fast as you can.

“Y/N,” Seokjin had been the first to notice you running back in. "Y/N WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING DOING!" He had shouted, adrenaline surging through his blood, throwing himself out of his truck, he watched you, unable to move any closer as he fell to the pavement. “COME BACK Y/N!"

“What is she doing?” Irene shouted at Jin, prompting Jimin’s immediate attention as he popped his head out of the ambulance doors. "Y/N?"

Jimin thought he could feel his heart bursting out of his ear drums as he screamed, eyes wide with horror. “Y/N, what are you doing?!” held back by Irene from running after you, he screams louder. “Y/N COME BACK! COME BACK RIGHT NOW. ARE YOU FUCKING DUMB?”

“I’ll just check okay! I’ll only take a minute, if you’re truly worried, just park the car at the end of the carpark. I’ll be fine,” You shouted back, “I will be fine.”

Jimin yells with his whole body but you don’t look back, convinced you’d only be a second as you run through the automatic doors and down the hallway, disappearing deep within the building. 

With the exception of the insect life buzzing around them, there was a strange silence in your wake as all three of them stared at the doors in disbelief.

Tears glistened in Jimin’s eyes as he watched the doors close and then they fell in rivulets down his face when the ground rumbled with the first blast of three. 

When you didn't run straight back out, he wailed loudly, feeling the impending loss strangle his heart as he fell completely into Irene’s arms.

I’ll only take a minute...

[thebuffalohuman-blog]

Stories from my history: 9/20/17: The Sand Pits

So, laying out my entire life, (or at least my most interesting stories) in blog form might take a while. I have many of them. I will avoid doing them chronologically at times. This particular one is the story of how I got myself into deep shit (actually sand) and through persistence, sustained belief in my abilities and some help from my friends, I was able to have a fantastic night that affirmed my self confidence AND extricate myself from a tricky, potentially costly situation.

So, it was about a week before my birthday last year and I had recently met my then-lover, Crunchy. We had hung out a time or two before that and just chatted in my car at the beach (my 1978 Buick Century Station Wagon, Frank)... but this time we had our first real adventure. I’m pretty sure the first part of the adventure consisted of walking around near Longwood Estate and then visiting Gotham Smokes, rolling a blunt and getting extremely stoned in Frank’s front bench seat. At this point, it was starting to get dark and I proposed we go take the Buick into an off the road kind of dirt path that I had discovered nearby when I was in High School. Obviously Captain Crunchy was as adventurous as I, so we took the Buick down that back road and parked it on the edge of the path, about 100 feet down the path alongside the road. We then rolled UP the windows, because the mosqueets were kind of annoying and smoked ANOTHER blunt.

Fast forward a little bit, we got out of the car and walked sky-clad amongst the trails of the Pine Barrens and the fresh feeling of the Early Autumn winds against my stony skin was such an incredible experience and I was tremendously grateful to share the moment with someone else, other than the mosquitoes. Staring into the sky at the clearest stars in the area, we had such a great time sharing space and affection that night. (The Earth was, that night to turn its cycle further into the harvest season and bring us into Mabon.)

So, around 1am, we walked back to the car and Crunchmaster suggested that we go home. Now, for whatever the fuck reason, I thought it was a good idea to put the car into DRIVE instead of reverse and go explore the trails IN A REAR WHEEL DRIVE BUICK. So, obviously as we rounded the first sandy-pit turn, the rear tires dug themselves into the sand and BAM, I was stuck with the first woman who had liked me in any reasonable capacity in a vehicle that I had stupidly dug into the sand pits at 1am.

Now, trying not to panic, we start throwing around ideas on how to deal with it. She had AAA and I had no such thing, so we call that and sit there for about an hour before the guy comes down the road backroad. I see him, hail him and he pulls over and asks me where the car is. I push open the gate and he gives me a look like I’m fucking crazy (which is true, but doesn’t excuse him not doing his job.) I assure him that it’s actually quite a wide path and that his tow could easily fit in it and that the ground is quite well packed until you reach about 500 yards in (or something like that...) He backs his truck through the gate and goes about 50 feet in before he stops the truck, puts it in drive and yells out his window that he’s sorry and that he can’t help me and that he will call his friend, but he’s not sure they can help and that I should just “call the cops”... then without calling his friend, he drives his vehicle continuously out the gate and down the road, far the fuck away from where I was standing, slack-jawed. I didn’t know if he called the cops or his friend or why the hell he just SCATTED. I knew the woods were somewhat of an intense experience (I had seen spirits there before, but nothing too terribly crazy), but I didn’t think a grown man would run away from helping out another in need of his services. Either way, I was stuck.

Now, I walk back to our little “camp in the sand” with the bad news. Crunchy had been asleep in the car, as she had to be up at 5:00 in the morning. I didn’t wake her. It was now 2:30am. Trying to keep panic at bay, I did my best not to worry about the potential fines for both “trespassing” and towing or what my beautiful friend thought of me after this whole ordeal on what was, essentially, our first date. Instead, I focused on solutions. I tried to run the car on some cardboard, on some wood slats I had found, using a tire strapping technique I had learned on youtube, considering if there were “off road” towing companies, like my other friend, QBall had used when he drove his mini-van into the woods and destroyed his entire transmission and front axle... I didn’t think he would answer me at 2am and I couldn’t find an evidence of such a thing existing... so I figured he had probably just “known someone”... then I realized... wait... I know someone.

I called upon my LONGEST STANDING BUT VERY HERMIT-Y FRIENDSHIP, with my friend, Deutsch. Deutsch had a four wheel drive, built as hell jeep with EVERY POSSIBLE survival tool I could imagine. I couldn’t think of a person who was more prepared if shit hit the fan. Conveniently, Deutsch also doesn’t have a normal sleep schedule and is more or less completely nocturnal... so this time, it worked out in my favor. She says she will be there in 45 minutes.

She shows up, Crunchy is still asleep and I am more stoned than before. She puts on a tow strap, tells me to put my car into reverse and drive... she cranks me out of that sand like my car was a ladle out of a cup of soup (YAY WEIRD ANALOGIES)... boom. I am at the top of the hill, tires freed with a wonderful, still running car and a sleepy passenger. I thank Deutsch, give her some cash for her time and am RIGHT THE FUCK OUT OF THERE. I drive Crunchy home or to her car or whatever she wants.. and somehow, she seems completely unphased. Now, I was thinking this was some kind of “calm before the storm” and that somehow I was about to get my ass chewed out the next time we spoke... Obviously this a thing I’d want to talk about right there, rather than let it sit. I ask her how she felt about the whole ordeal.

SHE SAYS TO ME THAT SHE TRUSTED ME MORE AND HAD GREATER RESPECT FOR ME MORE BECAUSE I MANAGED TO GET MYSELF OUT OF THAT SITUATION AND HANDLE IT ON MY OWN. She then kissed me and fell into my arms for a moment before we parted ways.

That night, I drove home in a total fog. I didn’t understand how she appreciated me after the shit that I got us into. I deprived her of many hours of sleep when she works such hard hours. I felt like such a fuck-up, but somehow the glimmer of hope in the situation was her, loving me anyways. The next few months we spent together we transformative for me and her. I have a tremendous amount of respect and love for her soul and our friendship still stands strong, though we are no longer lovers.