#and the one who also noticed my eyesight being shit other than my mom was my teacher.

[anne-the-insomniac]

I at times relate to animals who tilt their head when their confused cause when I was younger the doctors who checked my eyes were like yeah girl u good you see like a normal human no need for glasses.

AND YET THE WAY I LOOK AT WORDS TO READ THEM!!! Is with me squinting and then tilting my head.

It somehow was clearer in my child brain.

Like squinting is zooming in the camera while tilting your head is to make it focus.

[spideyspeaches]

Roller-coaster ↬ p.p

gif’s not mine

A/N: My take on What if Peter was in Wandavision? But with a twist ;) Beta read by my wifey @stars-aligning​ 🥰🥰

Warnings: canon typical voilence? mentions of death. Also the timeline doesn’t really make sense, just pretend everyone is of the same age. OH and Wandavision spoilers :)

WC: 9k (longest one shot I’ve ever written 😭)

Pairing: Peter Parker x ex!Reader 

Masterlist || Taglist

"Ben? What's wrong? Why are you looking at her like that?" 

"I- I don't. I don't know. She seems familiar." 

"Familiar? Familiar how?" 

"Like her and I don't belong here. Like we're from another world." 

Working with Tony Stark as his intern, then head of the R&D and now working in the labs as the head of the department felt surreal, a fresh breath of air every time he looked at his desk, with his name written on it. It had been Peter’s dream to meet Tony Stark, maybe work with him too.

And then he got bit by a radioactive spider, giving him super strength, super eyesight and apparently super luck too, because though he liked to think that he was working in SI due to his intelligence, the spider bite did play a role in becoming his mentor’s favourite intern, without which he might have not had a chance to meet him hands on.  

Tony kept reminding him that even if Peter had not been bit by the spider, he would have still secured a high position in Stark Industries, with his disarming intelligence that rivaled Tony’s own and charmingly trippy personality. 

Peter begged to differ. But then again, he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in it’s mouth. Ever since he was a bushy haired, rosy cheeked jittery teenager, he had always worshiped the ground Tony walked on. 

Peter remembers the day he got an anonymous letter, which turned out to be SHIELD's handiwork, asking him to join them in their base in New York, even if he insisted that he wasn't interested in being a superspy wannabe. He was skeptical at first, why would the most paranoid of paranoid agents send him a letter in mail? Him, twenty three years old Peter Parker, who lives in a shitty one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn with termite issues and smokes weed like the government is going to ban tobacco and is barely able to take care of himself with the overload of work. 

Maybe it was just his Parker luck, or the fact that he was a freelance vigilante who looked after New York in a skintight spandex suit, because the safety of the people was apparently second in priority to the government. They'd rather have people die than have an illegal protector. 

Yeah so Peter was salty, and what about It?

Slinging his satchel higher, he saw the sleek black car in confusion, trying to get a look at the number plate before the lift binged on arrival, walking into the open door. He swore he was either hallucinating or in midst of an intense flashback of the events that lead to what people dubbed as the 'Civil War', back to when he had been shaken out of his mind watching Tony Stark eat his aunt’s homemade walnut date loaf that had more salt than sugar.

His thoughts were put to a halt when he entered his and his aunt's old apartment in Queen’s after a long week of Spidey on mission and nearly getting (illegally) fired, footsteps coming to a pit stop. It's not like it's everyday you come face to face with Agent Coulson, Nick Fury and your ex not- really- girlfriend, somehow all in one day all together. 

"So… um. What are you- What are you guys doing here again?" he asked, folding his hands on his chest defensively, leaning into his aunt's side as he whispered, "how long have they been sitting here?" from the corner of his mouth.

Fury raised a non-existent eyebrow, looking at him with a dagger for eye, making Peter shift nervously. Agent Coulson looked uncomfortable and You, You looked strangely in your element, sitting on the couch with one leg over the other, a neutral expression on your face. 

Back when he was still in high school, when he'd first met you, he used to be in awe of how outgoing you were, seemingly adjusting in whichever situation you were thrown in. You had always accommodated to your surroundings, but with a start he realised that he had never seen you so… You in a while. 

Not during your visit to the Avengers tower, not during the first time you came into his bedroom, all alone. Not when he had seen you take down a mugger on your way home from your first date without even as much as batting an eye.

"They were here ten minutes or so before you came home. It's creepy, as if they knew you were visiting," May answered with a whisper, wearily eyeballing them before moving towards the kitchen, leaving Peter unattended to Your and Fury's piercing gazes. 

"I'm sure they know my monthly schedule before I do," Peter said, turning to look at the aforementioned agents. "So... you like, work for SHIELD, too?" He asked, wringing his hands to abate the tension in them. 

"Yes, she does, but that's not what we're here for, Mister Parker," Fury said in his gruff voice, sitting back with a sauve expression. Peter gulped as Agent Coulson looked him in the eye, finally noticing the thin file he held in his hands. 

"Well what are you here for?" Peter asked, mustering up some confidence as he tried not to look at You or the eye that Fury had that wasn’t covered by the patch.

"We need you to come to Westview, New Jersey with us," You said, a final no nonsense undertone in your voice. He shuddered when he heard you, remembering how soft and sweet you used to be. But that was before you disappeared out of nowhere, and apparently that nowhere was with SHIELD. 

"Me as in Peter Parker or Spider-Man?" he asked, looking behind his shoulder to make sure May wasn't listening. It's not like she didn't know about his… nightly whereabouts, he just wasn't comfortable with making her worry. She already had too much to deal with, with the nephew by day and vigilante by night thing he had going on.

It was also a little concerning that the three in front of him knew that he was visiting her today. He wondered if his apartment was bugged (well, more than the daily roaches and ants) or if SHIELD had been keeping an eye on him after he had denied their offer, instead opting to stay in SI.

It was probably the second one, although the first one was entirely a possibility. He was going to need to talk with Mister Stark about debugging his shitty one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. 

"We need Peter Parker and his tech skills for this one," Fury said, before shoving the file in Peter's hands and crossing his own, “and my offer still stands.”

"For the last time, I'm not joining your little murderous boy band," Peter grumbled, scrunching his eyebrows as he looked at your twitching lips, as if holding in laughter. "I'm perfectly content with working with Dr. Connors in his little laboratory in SI." 

Fury didn’t look convinced and opened his mouth to probably threaten Peter, when Aunt May came in with a tray of cookies. They smelled amazing, too good to be made by her, she probably brought them from Delmer’s.

“Oh- Were you…? I just thought you guys might want to eat something,” She said awkwardly, looking at Peter with pleading eyes.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, May! I would love to eat some of those, I’m famished,” You butt in, taking the tray from her with a smile.

“Um, May, you can um- you know?” Peter gestured, shifting on his legs, hoping that May would get the message before she stood for a minute too long. He didn’t like the way Nick Fury’s eye was looking at him, his tranquilizer gun suddenly visible from his leather jacket.

“Don’t be rude Pete, here May, I’ll help you get that.” You smiled, winking at him and dragging May by her arm, who was mouthing “she’s such a sweetheart” behind her shoulders. 

"What if I told you that his man accidently got evicted due to some legal issues? And that now you're legally unemployed with severe financial issues that need to be looked after because the government suspects something illegal brewing?" Fury continued, looking him dead in the eye.

"Are you seriously blackmailing me? Threatening to unemploy me after all that shit you put me through with Mysterio?" Peter defended, raising a disbelieving eyebrow, watching you strutt back into the room, distracted by the sway of your hips in your mom jeans. He tried to shake the image, rolling his head to crack some tension that had built at the base of his skull.

"Mysterio was a mistake, Parker. This one is not; and we really need you for this one. Besides, remember that you're still a vigilante that hasn't signed the Accords of Sokovia." 

Peter stiffened that the mention of the Accords. He thought the government was over it after the second amendment after the arrest of Thaddeus Ross, but apparently not.

"You said that last time and I almost died! My ex-girlfriend almost died, my best friend nearly died, heck half of Europe almost died because you Director Fury, apparently trust some superhero wannabe in a green and purple costume and overlook facts that could potentially harm someone. So the answer is clearly no!" he retorted, flopping the file on the table as he resisted the urge to sit on the floor flat on his back. 

The three agents were looking at him with an unreadable expression, making him uncomfortable in his skin. 

"Well, it's all up to you then." His voice had a finality to it, one that irked him to no end.

"Do I have a choice?" He sighed after a beat, looking at the three of you with a forlorn expression. 

"Get your equipment ready, Mr. Parker. We'll be leaving for the camp tonight. You can read the details in this file." He heard Agent Coulson say (he was pretty sure his name was Phil), trying to make sense of how fast everything was going past the chronic tinnitus in his ears.

"It's Dr. Peter Parker," he muttered fruitlessly, blushing under your raised eyebrow. 

***

"So, I didn't know you got a PhD. I knew you were smart, still are, considering that you're a PhD at twenty two," You said, sipping on your virgin mojito, and placing the mug in front of you. 

Peter had taken you to a cafe after the confrontation, wanting to know more about your whereabouts and how he had not noticed that you were a superspy all of his high school years. You had retorted with a simple "I'm a spy, that's why,” which he found pretty badass.

"Well, yeah, I did my undergraduate and PhD together." He shrugged casually, looking out of the window to avoid looking at you. 

You had always been beautiful, but somehow, you had become even more beautiful than the last time Peter saw you. 

"That sounds brutal. Only you can manage that," You joked. You weren't going to admit it, but you had missed being with Peter, joking with him and watching his beautiful side profile as he blushed under your scrutinizing gaze.

"So, um. This thing, what is it about?" Peter asked, snapping you out of your daze. 

"Huh? Oh it's a long story. Like really long, if this was a TV show it would take five episodes for me to explain." You gestured, dismissing his scowl. "Okay, so you remember that time when that super high security facility was broken in back in december 2019?" 

"Which super high facility? There are a lot of break ins happening in high security facilities in America, and it's more than concerning, considering they're supposed to be super high security." He said, fiddling with his own drink. 

"Okay, Yeah that's true. It was a S.W.O.R.D facility, and long story short, Wanda Maximoff kidnapped her corpse husband to reenact the dad-knows-best suburban lifestyle with an entire town held as her hostage." You said, looking over your shoulders to make sure no one was listening. 

"Wanda stole Vision's corpse? Wait, is this about Westview? 'The Town that ceased to exist'? Is that what happened? Is this some sort of mind control thing? Cause I know she can make people believe what she wants them to..." Peter whispered, leaning in to show that he was interested. You took a moment to admire his front profile, his broken nose and dimpled chin, rosy lips and sharp cheekbones, accidently zoning out on his theories.

Leaning forward, you brought a hand up his face, pushing a stray curl behind his ears, cutting him short of his rambling. 

"W-what?" He stuttered, his breath hitching, making the table shake with a wince. 

"You have nice hair." You commented with a smirk, caressing his hair one more time. 

"You said that in the senior's party too, and well, there's no sex happening anytime soon." He said, rolling his eyes, sitting back in his hair with his hands folded on his chest.

"I like being optimistic." You rolled your own eyes, heart beating a mile a minute at the reminder of your relationship- ex relationship with Peter, "so what were you saying about Westview? I kind of zoned out." 

You watched him roll his eyes again, trying not to let your eyes wander around his biceps and the little bit of his collarbones peeking from his shirt, unbuttoned from the top, also exposing the thin chain that he always seems to be wearing. With a start you realised that it was the one you had gifted him on his eighteenth birthday.

"So this town, Westview, it just disappeared right? Behind a barrier of sorts? Is it like, coming from an energy source? Was it created by Wanda?  " he asked, ever his inquisitive self.

"Yeah, apparently she's created an alternate reality, sitcom style, with the people of Westview trapped in it." 

"So she's basically starring in a fanfiction alternate reality of sorts but a sitcom format? Wouldn't blame her, poor woman's been through a lot." He nodded, shifting in his seat. He could feel your eyes burning a hole in his skull, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "Are you staying in a hotel? Or a shield facility?" 

"Nope," You answered, leaning back on your chair. "Am I still allowed to stay in your room? With the doors open?"

He watched you with narrowed eyes, tilting his head with a smirk, replying to you with a nod, "alright." 

*** 

"Did you pack your mittens? The extra warm ones with a built in heater? You know you're susceptible to frost bites-" 

"May! I packed my mittens." Peter murmured, ducking his head in embarrassment as he raised an eyebrow at your amused smile. 

"Okay, okay, that's great. Socks? Painkillers? Extra pair of glasses?" she asked, fumbling around the room like she did whenever he went on field trips. 

"Yes, May!" 

"Great. Stay safe, okay?" Her eyes softened, holding his cheeks in his hand like he was a seven year old, living with them with a knowledge of death no seven year old should have. Sighing, he leant into her palm, holding his own hand encompassing her small one. Giving her a smile, he kissed her cheek. “Ti amo, May. I’ll call you once I get there, okay?” 

She nodded, pulling him into her embrace, though she knew full well that he’s going to forget to call her, too excited to be in the vicinity of multiple certified geniuses and other figures of authority. 

***

"Is there anything I should know about? Like anything unexpected?" Peter asked, looking at the camp in awe as the jeep pulled over makeshift gates, a bunch of soldiers surrounding them. 

Peter was used to seeing the hustle and bustle of camps, considering all the missions he had gone through with the Avengers, back when Steve wasn’t retired and the newer generation of avengers hadn’t entered. 

“Your blood’s radioactive, right?” You asked, turning to face him with a smile. 

“Yeah. Why? Is that relevant?” he replied, raising an eyebrow as he saw someone carrying his bags before he could protest. 

“Well, Dr. Lewis found out about this hexagonal anomaly, no one really knows what it is, but the source seems to be emitting huge amounts of radiations,” You said, getting off the jeep, pulling Peter out with you. Walking towards the crowded camp, you came face to face with the tent where everything was set up.

“Doctor Darcy Lewis?” Peter said, looking at the place in awe. It wasn’t extravagant, but the technology surrounding the tent, the vans and what seemed to be a broadcasting antenna were all way beyond the regular one used in tech companies, which is funny, considering he’s been working with Mr. Stark his whole teenage life. 

“Yup, that’s her, nerd.”

“So, what exactly is this Hexagon? Is it, like, a barrier of sorts? Can everyone go in?” He asked, looking around with glinting eyes, lips twitching in a smirk as he saw the barrier in question. His super hearing caught the static sound it emitted, wincing at the sharp noises. His boots crunched under the snow as he felt the thing pull him towards it, your voice muffled by the noises of the hex. 

It was something he had never seen before, like the static of a TV with a lost signal, glowing red in places as if reaching out to him. His senses seemed dull, the world greying around the way it had before he was bit by the radioactive spider. The spider bite had enhanced his vision in a way that he saw colours not visible to the human eye, a technicolour wonder that even Bruce couldn’t solve. 

He felt a tug, looking down at his shoes, wondering if he had just imagined it. 

“Mom and dad have been, not fighting, just like different.”

He swore he felt a white light flash in front of him, his spidey sense buzzing at the base of his skull, tingling all the way to his spine as he straightened up to dissipate the feeling, shifting awkwardly.

“Only Captain Rambeau has gone in and come back intact so far. It’s emitting a colossal amount of cosmic microwave background radiation, also known as CMBR, and once you get into it, your mind doesn’t really stay your own, so no one has volunteered other than her. Everyone knows the risk,” You said, startling him, a sharp contrast to the voices that seemed to have suddenly accumulated in his brain. 

“If you’re going to break the sound barrier, please just take your brother with you!”  

‘Sound barrier?’ he thought, looking back at the hex as it flashed red, the tug strong enough to make him stumble in his place. You looked at him weirdly, asking if he was okay, but he wasn’t listening, turning to ask you what the red flash meant, distortion evident in the barrier.

“Captain Rambeau? The daughter of the director of SWORD?” he asked instead. 

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“Damn.” He sighed, running a gloved hand through his hair, and dragging it down his face. 

Walking inside the tent, Peter was hit with a face full of cold air, and the hundreds of monitors nearly gave him a sensory overload. The people running around didn’t help, either. “Where do I keep this?” He asked, pointing to his bag full of equipment that Fury had asked for. 

“You can set up over here, newbie,” A new voice said chirpily. Turning around, he came face to face with the Darcy Lewis, eyes widening as he took in her smiley presence, another human who he didn't recognise standing behind her. “Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself! I’m Doctor D-”

“Darcy Lewis, I know- I’m a fan!” 

“Aw look at you, you have a fanboy at your hand,” Captain Monica Rambeau said, strutting in and keeping a hand on her shoulder, confidence radiating off of her every pore. 

"And… You are?" he asked awkwardly, looking pointedly at the FBI agent. He saw Darcy hide a snicker behind her hand, patting his shoulder and shoving him forward. 

The man fell forward, steadying himself on the table before he flicked a card seemingly out of nowhere. "Agent Jimmy Woo, FBI,” he said proudly, a smile on his cute little baby face. Peter was left staring in awe, wondering how he had done that.

"Wait, can you do that again? How did you do that?!" 

"It's cool, isn't it? I could teach you if you want." 

"Yes, of course, but how did you do it? It appeared out of nowhere and if you take in consideration the law of conservation of mass, it can neither be created nor be destroyed and it just seemed to have accumulated-" 

"It's a trick of illusion. You see, when I opened my palms, I-" 

"Peter, let's set things up shall we?" You interrupted their session, a smirk on yours and the other women's faces, shaking your head.

Ditching the bag on the counter, he nodded, willing his heart to stop beating out of his chest. This was the coolest thing that had ever happened to him next to Tony Stark sitting on his aunt’s old futon. And the magic trick.

“This is the coolest day of my life,” he whispered, shrugging when you chuckled at his excitement. “Ned’s going to freak out.” 

“Wait until you see the schematics and control panels.” You smirked, making him raise an eyebrow as he blushed, the flush apparent from his neck to his ear. The others scattered just as he finished setting his station up, fidgeting with the radio, when the voice of Hayward boomed across the cubicle. 

“Ah, Mister Parker!” he says, a faux smile on his face as he looks at the station, making Peter shift uncomfortably. The weird tingling of his spidey-sense came up again, his hand automatically reaching there to scratch at the itch.

“Here we go again,” Darcy muttered, patting Peter’s back, her eye roll loud enough for him to glance at her. 

“It- It’s doctor,” he muttered, hearing a “he gets me” from Darcy.

“Very well, Doctor Parker it is, then. I’m Hayward, welcome to SWORD.”

“SWORD? I thought this was a SHIELD thing?” 

“...Fury didn’t brief you?”

“He did! He was just very vague, hence why I’m asking. What exactly have I been called here for?”

The silence that took over was palpable, with you shifting awkwardly as Hayward eyeballed them all, looking at the five of them morosely before saying, “Brief him Monica,” and leaving.

“God, is every higher official such a dick here?” Peter grumbled, watching him retreat, shaking his head as he threw the ball of paper he hadn’t noticed he had been fidgeting with.

“See? He agrees, I like him.” Darcy nodded, pulling him with her towards the briefing table. 

“This all started when the town of Westview disappeared after the second blip,” Monica said, pulling up holographs that showed the image of people reappearing from the snap, his breathing increasing in pace as he remembered vaguely of his own reappearance. 

The whole situation was fucked up. After stealing Vision’s corpse, Wanda had basically resurrected him, holding and controlling thousands of people, an entire fucking town. Looking at the list of all the missing people, his eyes zeroed on to one particular face. He racked his memory to remember who exactly it was, mouth hanging open when he realised who exactly she was.

“Is that… is that Agatha Harkness?” Peter said, pointing at the woman who had no name written under her photograph.

“You know her real name?” Darcy asked, looking at him with raised eyebrows as he nodded, wringing his hands around.

“Yeah, Wanda told me about her, she’s the witch from the Salem trials!”

“How is she significant to the plot, though?”

“She... she mentored Wanda, before she went to the dark side." 

In the time he knew Wanda, she had been the sweetest person ever. She was like an older sister he didn’t know he needed, empathising with him on a cosmic level. They had come close before the events of Thanos happened. She was his person, and they shared a lot of secrets, this one being one of them.

“That’s one connection to her. What about the others? She keeps telling Vision that she doesn’t know what’s happening, but when the drone strike happened, she looked straight at the camera, like she knew,” Monica intervened.

“He tried to deploy a drone strike? In front of her children, after knowing very well that she saw her parents die in the Sokovian attack when she was ten? Is he fucking insane?!” Peter seethed, nearly crashing his fist on the table hard enough for cracks to appear on it. 

“Peter, hey, calm down! You breaking things is not going to make the situation any better, okay? He already tried to chuck us out of this, you don’t go around breaking things now!” You said, holding him still as his body shook. You had never seen him this angry, and frankly, you would never want to see it again. 

Peter was a sweet person, respecting people’s boundaries and always so understanding. He was the embodiment of good, even after living a fucked up life, he never projected his trauma on the other. He wore his emotions on his sleeves, and your heart clenched every single time, seeing him in pain. 

"Listen, that's my sister in there, and she has no idea what she's doing. She needs our help and I'll do anything to help that woman and if you guys even think of hurting her I will make sure each of you regret it," Peter hissed, staring daggers at the silent team members of the room. 

“Is there any way to reach there?” he asked, more softly than before. Darcy exchanged a look with Agent Woo and Monica, opening her mouth before knowing better and shutting it. “What?! Is there a way to communicate with her?”

“Follow us,” the brown woman said, breathing deeply as she looked at the other two silently. 

"Where are we going?" Peter asked, fidgeting with your fingers. He hadn't noticed himself holding your hands, your lips twitching when you realised he had done that unconsciously.

“Trust me, I don’t know half the things these ladies do,” Woo whispered, and Peter nodded along seriously. 

“Whoa, I feel like there’s a secret underground base here! Is there a secret underground base?” 

“Well, it’s not underground, and not really a secret anymore,” Captain Rambeau said, unravelling a curtain, revealing a small space with a million monitors and a wooden desk littered with laptops and too many empty coffee cups. 

“This is so cool,” You whispered, watching in awe as Dracy lit up the screens, revealing various codes and stuff you didn’t really understand. Peter was already invested, babbling about codes and addresses and hidden files within hidden files, things that flew over your head at the speed of Darcy’s fingers on the keypad.

Leaning on the table with one hand, Your eye caught a flat round metal looking thing on the ground, picking it up and tracing it with your fingers. “Is this… a bullet?!” 

“Yeah, it was hit on that suit, which turns out to be 87% kevlar. That happened when Captain shot at it,” Jimmy answered, giving you a smile as you dropped your jaw. 

“She went in wearing a bulletproof vest right? Wanda just… manifested a dress made of kevlar?” You wondered, your words interrupted by Peter’s yelp.

“So, remember how Director Douchebag ordered a drone strike on Wanda?” she said, contemplating her words next as everyone turned towards her. “Turns out he’s been planning something else.” 

“What’s that?” Jimmy asked, pointing at the screen, which displayed two boxes full of what seemed like cells.

“That’s Monica’s blood work, he’s been tracking it the whole time. The first time you travelled to the hex? It changed your cellular structure on a molecular level, twice.” She said. 

A sombre expression took over the older woman’s face, pursing her lips. “He thinks I’m gaining powers.” Monica nodded.

“I may not be a genetic engineer, but from what I’m seeing here, he’s most likely right,” Peter interrupted, a silence taking over everyone. “He’s keeping track of the enhanced, if I’m not wrong.” 

Shaking his head, he clenched his eyes when he heard another voice. You watched him weirdly, reaching to ask him if he was okay, before retracting your hand.

“Chill out sis, it’s not like you can kill your dead husband twice.” 

“You’re right. He’s been tracking everyone who’s enhanced, including Vision.” Dracy said, typing something on the screen to show you the map of Westview, pulsing red and blue dots appearing in your sight.

“Do you know what his endgame is?”

“Yeah. Rebooting Vision.” 

Peter inhaled sharply, trying not to let his face show the anger inside him as he looked at Monica with wide eyes, both of them looking at each other dangerously, both of them realising same thing.

“Then, I’m going in. Someone needs to tell her,” he said, looking at the others for affirmation.

You took a step back, gulping in anticipation of his words. Reaching out with a hand, you stared at him, hoping he wouldn't lash out. "Peter, you have to know, the hex is a dangerous place. You won't even remember who you are so there’s no point in you going in. You won’t be able to convince her to magically leave her hostages, she’ll just see you as an outsider and throw you out-" 

"Captain Rambeau went in and she was able to get out!" he argued.

"Peter, I was tossed out because she saw me as a threat. She might not do that to you but going in that thing is dangerous, especially with your mutations-" 

"I don't give a fuck about my mutation! You of all people should know how it feels like to lose family, Monica," Peter said, looking at her. The fire in his eyes spoke volumes. No one dared to intervene. 

"Peter, your mutation could potentially kill you. You know the risks of going past the barrier due to your enhancements. The radiations are altering DNA to a molecular level, your cells-”

"-are already metastasizing! My spider DNA is going to get me killed some day because my body won’t be able to handle it anymore, so I don't care, I'm going and that's final." He nodded, puffing his chest to show that he wasn't going to step down. 

"Fine, I'll come with you then," You said, looking at him as you said that. A lump formed in your throat as you realised that he was so willing to sacrifice himself, and blood pumped in your veins as determination set in along with a rush of adrenaline. 

"Do as you please." He shrugged, pursing his lips, but his eyes were a different story. You felt sick, insides tearing themselves up as you took a good look at him and his pallor, the artificial lights illuminating the scar tissues on his face. Ones that you knew were inflicted by his years of being the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. 

***

“Maximoff is never gonna negotiate with us,” Hayward said, circling the table as Monica looked at him with disbelief in her expression. “We’ll need all the guns we have here to stop her.”

“We can’t outgun her, but what we can do is try and talk her out of this. Antagonising her is only making things worse. If Wanda is the problem, she has to be our solution!” Monica argued, looking forward.  

“She’s already killed thousands during the Sokovian attack. How do you guarantee that she won’t kill another person she finds threatening?!”

“She was guilty about it. It wasn’t her fault, do not bring that into this.” 

“Yeah? Well, the guilt isn’t going to bring back the dead children is it?” 

"The dead children aren't coming back, but those people trapped in Westview? They can, if you fucking let us!" 

"Fine. But someone will be monitoring you."

Negotiations with your boss and commanding team of SWORD concerning the ship was a tough feat. you had finally convinced them to let you and Peter go across the border, but Darcy and Monica were to be on the radio in case everything went amiss.

Sitting in the (illegally acquired) van, you watched Jimmy, who was trying to teach Peter the card trick, invested in the trick yourself. Leaning forward to get a better view, you tried not to let the rush of blood in your cheeks get to you at the close proximity with Peter, heart pounding with every step you took closer to the hex. 

“I did it! I finally did it, Y/N, look!” Peter said, showing you the trick, smiling at his childlike enthusiasm. 

“That’s great! You should show it to Morgan, she’ll like it.” 

“How do you know about Morgan?”

“I know everything.”

You may have been bluffing, but he seemed to have caught on your cue, the awkward tension reappearing as he shifted in his seat, twisting and turning and going back to the magic trick. You tried not to smile, but your mouth never did coordinate with your brain. 

“We’re here,” the driver said, parking the van. 

“Okay let’s go through this again: Captain Rambeau and Dr. Lewis will be on the radio while you try and get in, stay near a radio as much as you can so we can try and communicate, and do not try to meddle with Wanda,” Jimmy said, going over your checklist. 

You were skeptical of the plan, thinking about how successful your mission was going to be, considering how powerful she had become in her own little sitcom. You had heard of her expanding the borders just after you had started driving near it. 

“You ready?” Peter asked, taking your hand as you nodded, and wrapped your fingers around his knuckles, before taking a deep breath.

“I’m ready.” You nodded, looking over your shoulders to see the FBI agent giving you a thumbs up, muttering something into the comms. Looking back at Peter, you felt dizzy with the buzzing anxiety, the pull of the barrier strong. 

Stepping close to it, you felt electricity buzz in your veins, shuddering at the chilling sensation and sudden exposure to stimuli, your gut twisting the more your hand went in the hexagonal anomaly. You swore you felt your physical being tear apart, your life flashing in front of you in a white hot light, your brain was practically mush with how much force you needed just to get in. 

"I thought we would be able to get in easily!" Peter shouts, his screams echoing in your eardrums, mixed with your own screams. 

"She's becoming more powerful the longer she stays inside, and so is the hex," You replied, gasping for a breath as you tried to move forward.

With a final scream, you closed your eyes at the static sound bombarded your ears, you couldn't fathom how loud it must be for Peter, sending a look towards him. His eyes were scrunched, hands curled around his head and ears to stop the sound. Before you could comment on his state, your own vision doubled, bright green and magenta lights appearing out of nowhere, the coiling of your gut intensifying, and before you knew it, the strong force pulled you inside, throwing you off on the hard concrete of the road, and everything went dark.

***

“I’m okay. I’m okay. Everything is alright,”  Wanda said, repeating the phrase like a mantra as she sat on the couch. 

She repeated the phrase like clockwork, just like being a mom to two half synthezoid pre-teens and the gatekeeper of Westview. Snapping out of her daze, she felt something in her brain stir, realising with a start that something had been messing with the barrier-- or, rather, someone.

Closing her eyes, she willed her powers, similar to the ones Tommy had, to look past the barrier, opening her eyes with a flash when she saw a familiar face.

“Peter,” she muttered, the brown eyed boy who she had come to think of as a brother materialising in front of her, dropping on the carpet with a thud as his unconscious form fell on top of Yours. Wanda remembered you from all the stories Peter had told her about. 

Crouching down, she reached out to touch you both. Her eyes glowing red as she held a finger to your and his forehead, scrunching her eyelids as she navigated both of your heads.

A lonely young girl was seen sitting on a rock, the wind blowing wisps of her dark hair along with her dress. Suddenly, the noise of clucking of horseshoes could be heard, a woman coming into view as she got off her horse. 

“Feeling lonely and afraid at the middle of the night when you’re a young and beautiful teenage girl?” the woman in the cowgirl shoes said, holding her hip as the girl nodded. “Well, don’t worry, every young girl must have a sword at her disposal!” 

“A sword?” the young girl asked, tilting her head as she took the object in her hand.

“Yes, a s.w.o.r.d, my dear. Fear not, for the sword will protect you from all the hexes around you.”

The girl smiled, looking at the camera with the cowgirl’s hands on her shoulder. “A sword to protect the young!” 

Buy now at your nearest convenience store, terms and conditions apply.

“What are you two doing here and not at school?” Wanda chortled, startling the two who were now very much conscious. The boy moved, fisting his eyes, and he curled his hands to stretch the kinks that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, the varsity jacket scrunching underneath his fists. 

“Babe?” the boy groaned, messing up his hair, looking at the general direction of the girl. 

Putting on a smile, Wanda folded her arms, biting her lips at how adorable the two of you were.

“Ben? Is that you?” the girl asked, looking at her disheveled frock with a confused expression, finally noticed the woman standing in front of her. “Oh my god, babe, I swear we were at the bleachers not long ago. Did you manifest teleportation powers now?” 

“Miss Maximoff! You’re Billy and Tommy’s mom! Babe, we’re in Billy and Tommy’s house!” The guy, Ben said, his voice rising up an octave as he looked at his surroundings. 

He couldn't remember much about the Maximoffs, except that his neighbours talk about the weird mom and dad almost everyday in the gossip sessions. Whatever, he wasn't interested in them.

"She turned them into teenagers." 

"Well there goes our plan. Do we still have back up ready?" 

“That’s right, kids. Now, what were you two naughty children doing out of school?” Wanda asked, helping the two kids get up as the boy blushed, stuttering an apology.

“We- we weren’t ditching, I swear, Miss Maximoff! We were just-”

"-Doing homework! Because… because Ben's a nerd and he doesn't like that he gets behind because of the baseball team!" the girl said, stuttering as Ben nodded along with her.

“Yeah! We weren't making out or anything! Even if we're totally dating." 

Their relationship wasn't exactly your normal relationship. It was more of a… mutually beneficial relationship. 

Well, so far they had the entire town fooled, having them all think that a guy such as Benjamin Fitzpatrick would ever date a girl like her, who liked her books more than her siblings. 

"Hmm, well, thankfully, I'm a cool mom and I will not tell your parents about this… thing. Whatever it was. Anyone want cheesecake?" Wanda smiled, clapping her hands once as she looked at the two teenagers. 

Ben's stomach growled at the thought of food. "You don't have to do it, Miss Maximoff, but I would love some," he said, sheepishly looking at the ground, and wincing at another growl. 

Wanda chuckled, patting the boys back kindly. "Oh honey, it's alright. Come on, don't be shy, the both of you!" she said, looking over her shoulder and saying, "and it's just Wanda! Miss Maximoff makes me feel old, you know." 

They followed her to the kitchen, taking in the interior of the house. Ben's eyes caught something from the corner, it was almost as if it was… flickering? Shaking his head, he dug his fingers in his eyes, wondering if he was still feeling the effects of the time he had hit his head during the baseball practice. 

"You okay?" the girl asked, keeping a hand on his shoulder to steady him. 

"Yeah, probably the aftereffects of a concussion." He nodded, burrowing his brows in confusion. 

"Hmm, should probably get that thick little noggin of yours checked by the nurse." She snickered, hitting his shoulders playfully. Her heart was beating fast, he noted, wondering how he could hear it so clearly. The thought that he would have to leave her after she gets a date for prom made him sad. 

They may be faking their relationship, but he had caught on very fast and realised that he wanted it to be real. As real as the town of Westview.

Wait, what?

"You know we don't have to pretend anymore, right?" Ben said, looking at the girl as she came to a halt. Miss Maximoff was nowhere in sight, the house eerily silent with her heartbeat echoing in his ears. 

"This is the best ship SWORD could ever make." 

The awkward silence was interrupted by the opening of the front door, a loud jingle as Agnes came strutting in, a big smile on her face. It made Ben's neck sting weirdly, slapping his hand at the base to nullify the feeling. 

"Hello, children! What are you doing, skipping school like the little troublemakers you are?" She grinned, pinching each of their cheeks as her voice took a baby-like tone to it. Ben took a step back, grimacing as she continued pinching his cheeks. 

"Um, we weren't- we have no idea actually-" 

"Agnes! Oh, what great timing! Were you here for Billy and Tommy?" Wanda came in, a plate full of cheesecake and crackers in her hand. 

"Oh, Wanda, Wanda, Wanda! Your little troublemakers are already in my house, or did you forget?" She chuckled, the sound of her laughter taking a higher pitch. 

Wanda furrowed her brows, opening her mouth to say something, before closing it, a grin taking over. "Right. Yeah, of course! They really love it there with you, huh?" 

"That's right, everybody loves Auntie Agnes!" 

Ben looked at his girlfriend again, feeling strangely out of place between the two women. 

"Um, Miss Ma- Wanda? C-Can we go now? I feel like-" 

"Oh, Ben, don't be ridiculous! Why don't you sit down and take a breather? You look pale, hon." Wanda smiled, setting down the plate and ushering the two kids on the table, both of whom looked at the table with hunger in their eyes. Well, it had been long since lunch break. 

"Thank you for the cheesecake Mi- uh, Wanda, we appreciate it," the girl said, promptly digging in after the affirmation. 

***

Vision knew something was wrong the moment Agnes showed signs of knowing what was going on. The first time it happened, he was sure his paranoid wife would do something, but she had continued to act as if nothing was wrong with Agnes' behaviour. 

Walking down the road in his ridiculous costume, he nearly sighed in resignation, before he realised that he wasn't capable of such human actions. 

One more thing that perplexed him to no end was his strangely human behaviour. It was as if someone was forcing him to act more human, some weird force that was so unlike Wanda's warm presence, something more foreign and way out of his realm (like the gum incident. He sure did remember Wanda chastising him for doing this atrocity, surely she couldn't have been the one controlling him? Right?).

His mechanical heart ached for his wife. She had gone through a lot, from what he had read from her thoughts; losing a brother (twice, if the absence of Pietro was anything but a confirmation), and then him (it didn't bother him much. He was a synthezoid, there was entirely a possibility that he could be revived). 

He just really missed her, he realised. Their relationship had been strained ever since the boys were born. He didn't blame the drift on his boys, of course. He loved them to no end, would sacrifice himself for them, but he couldn't help but notice the change it brought in Wanda. 

The arrival of Pietro 2.0 didn't help either. 

His thoughts were interrupted as his feet halted their movements, and with a snap he realised that he had somehow made it to Ellis avenue, the border's static buzzing through his entire being. 

"You look lost, buddy," a strange man said. 

Looking at the man, Vision tilted his head, looking through the database of Westview to see that the man seemed to be nowhere in the records. How had he made it here? 

"I- I'm sorry, who are you?" He asked, leaning against the car door to peer inside, the man sitting rigid. It was only then did he realise that the man's eyes seemed… glazed, almost like he wasn't aware. Looking back at the barrier, Vision gaped at the view in front of him. 

The man's car was half inside and half outside the barrier, the slow moving particles seemed to be disintegrating the vehicle, watching in awe as sparks flew the closer the barrier came to the man. 

"Listen, you have to get out of here before that thing destroys you." Vision tried shaking the man, but to no avail. His attempts were in vain as the man simply grunted. "Listen! Can you hear me? What's happening? Why is the barrier moving?" 

He tried opening the door, but it was shut firmly. Groaning, he punched the door, nearly falling to catch the falling man, who was mumbling some incoherent mumbo jumbo. 

"Wanda, what are you up to...?" Vision muttered to himself, realising with a start that the barrier was expanding and the man had come from outside the barrier. 

Looking at the muttering man, he quickly moved them both away from the barrier, propping him up against the grass.

"I'm sorry," Vision said, his hands gliding yellow as he touched the man's forehead, his own circuits being bombarded with incoherent noises. 

"Oh god! I'm sorry, please save me! Please, this hurts, this- you- you're the Vision!" the man screamed. 

"Yes, I'm the Vision! Now, can you stay still? I'm trying to help you!" 

"-Please! She's in my head!" 

His hands lit up again, the yellow light smothering the man's forehead as he went still again, as Vision retracted his hands regretfully. Opting to leave the man there, he stood up again, startling once again that day when he heard a shrill cry, the body of… Geraldine? Appearing out of the barrier. Shaking his head, he was convinced that he was hallucinating, if that was even possible for a droid, and turned around to walk back home. 

(Agatha gave a satisfied chuckle, purple sparks erupting from her fingers as she turned back to Wanda, pretending that that didn't just happen.) 

***

"Do you think our school is a little… solitary?" Ben asked, inhaling a puff of smoke from the blunt in his hands. His girlfriend and him were sitting on the rooftop of Westview high, their feet swinging against the edge as she clutched at Pe- Ben for dear life. 

Peter? Who was that?

"Did you see that?? Peter was right, that was Agatha Harkness and she's been the one manipulating the people, it never was Wanda! It was meant to be a plot twist, but I totally predicted it."

"Um…"

"What? I'm invested." 

Peter? 

Y/n? Can you hear me? Please say yes if you can hear me.

She noticed the static sound of the radio speaking to someone. The static noise increased, and Ben didn't seem to have noticed the small portable radio malfunctioning. Shrugging it off, she went back to passing the blunt from her boyfriend. 

Boyfriend. The word ignited a flame in her chest. Ben, who she faked her dates with once upon a time, now was her actual, real boyfriend, who she was ditching homework to smoke a blunt with, uncaring of her nearing curfew. Her parents would have her head if she found out.

"Do you hear that?" She asked, exhaling the stale air from her lungs. She knew it was more of the deep breathing than the weed, but it made her feel serene. 

"I've been hearing a lot of things lately." He croaked, clearing his throat, sniffing the air as he leaned back, his Adam's apple bobbing with every gulp. His glasses were sliding off his face. She reached to push them back up, smiling at the flush of his face.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, slipping her fingers through his, rubbing a hand on his back. His life had been difficult, she knew about him being an orphan, but she didn't know he was having a hard time with life at the very moment, her heart aching for the poor boy.

"I don't know, I keep hearing these voices in my head. Children screaming, people crying, and this… this buzz at my neck, I can't ignore it anymore! I feel like I'm going insane and I can't keep them quiet! I've tried, but it's like they're trying to communicate with me." 

Her eyes softened, hands running through his thick, straight hair as he leaned his head on her shoulder. Suddenly, the height at which they were sitting on didn't matter, she had him in her arms. 

"He broke the fourth wall. He's been hearing things, just like Billy." 

Wiping away his tears, she kissed his forehead, rubbing her hands gently on his back. 

"It's gonna be okay. You're okay, they'll go away soon." She reassured, folding her legs to get up, and pulling him up with her. "It's getting late, and mom will have my head if I'm later than curfew." 

"You've broken curfew before." He chuckled, stepping closer to Her, his hands on her hips.

Moving forward, she enclosed her hands around his shoulders, intertwining her fingers at the nape of his neck. Standing on her highest tip toes, she crashed her lips into his, their bodies swaying with the cold wind. 

"Awww, they're so cute! Exes to lovers, I like it."

"I agree. Didn't see the fake dating coming though." 

"Right?! Wanda should start a production company." 

"If Agnes lets these people go." 

***

Meanwhile, Monica had managed to find an abandoned shack in the backyard of Wanda's neighbour's house, her body buzzing with a familiar tension. 

Opening the shack, she saw the trails of purple, vein like thing running their tracks until they reached somewhere she couldn't see. She didn't notice another person creeping up on her, too busy looking at the trails. 

"Snoopers gonna snoop," the voice said, making her jump out of her skin, and keeping a hand on her heaving chest to stop her from hyperventilating. 

"Pietro?!" She startled, looking around to see if anyone had heard her. The neighbourhood was eerily silent, leaning against the wall, before deciding against it and squared her shoulders, looking at the man in front of her. 

"Yeah, that's me. But who are you? And what are you doing in Margie's backyard?" he asked defensively. She would have found the expression comical if it wasn't for her racing heart and adrenaline filled brain. 

"I could ask you the same thing," she said, folding her arms to show a defensive stance. 

"I'm here because… I live here?" he muttered, borrowing his brows as his eyes glazed over again, "Yeah, wait, no... I live with my sister! Who lives two houses from here! What am I doing here?"

"I don't know, you tell me." 

"God, this is so weird. First Wanda was being weird, now I am." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Nothing." 

***

Billy was afraid. He knew that he should be stronger and braver, if not for himself, then for Tommy. His momma always told him that the only thing to fear was fear itself, and he didn't know what that meant, but he knew that he had to be braver to get back to his mom and dad. 

"Billy, I'm scared," Tommy whimpered. "I'm hearing voices again." 

"It's gonna be okay, Mom and Dad will be here soon," he reassured, just as scared as his brother. They were only twelve minutes apart, but he still felt a responsibility for him.

Mom said that they both reminded of her own brother- Uncle Pietro. 

Hearing the door open, he felt a chill crawl up his spine. 

"She's here! Billy, she's here!" 

"I know! I know! Shh!" 

Her footsteps came closer, the cackling of her laughter making his heart pound. His brother buried himself in his shoulders, both of them huddled next to each other, as if the inevitable could be avoided. 

"How are my best boys doing?" Agnes' shrill voice rang, making Billy breathe faster.

"We want Mommy," Tommy whimpered, sounding as small as Billy felt. 

"Oh, I'm sorry honey, that's not happening anytime soon." She tsked, sounding as apologetic as the villains in the action movies his mom forbade him from watching.

"Why's that?" Billy asked, squaring his shoulders as much as he could. 

"You didn't hear? Mommy's dead." 

And his world crashed, his brain crowding with darkness.

A/N: Lemme know what you think! 😁😁

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch.9

Ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5 ch.6 ch.7 ch.8

Summary: Nicole needs a painkiller.

---

"Mother, please!"

God that was loud. Or far. It was a confusing mix of both. The sound reached her ears muffled, but even that was enough to make the fuzz in her brain even worse.

It took an enormous amount of effort to finally figure out who that voice belonged to, the desperate tone so uncharacteristic. Cassandra of course.

Her eyelids felt too heavy to open, so Nicole just tried to shift towards the voice. That plan turned out to be a huge mistake as with the smallest movement, her body seemed to short circuit. Her side felt like it was on fire, sending waves of pain that made her let out a choked pained moan.

Then, she realized, there were other voices surrounding her. She couldn't make out whether or not it was addressed to her let alone what was being said.

She did try though.

Consciousness was starting to slowly make its way into her mind. With great strain she even managed to open her eyes, harsh light making her groan.

"Oh she's awake."

"Hey, try not to move."

Nicole frowned, trying to focus on the two blurry figures by her side. When her brain finally managed to decipher familiar blonde and ginger hair she let out a sigh.

Bela was in a chair by her side, holding her in place by a shoulder while Daniela was lower down, pressing a white cloth to her abdomen.

Her bloody abdomen.

Panic started to course through her veins when she noticed the crimson mess on her skin and the sheets underneath her. What had happened? Where was she and where was Cassandra?

Sensing her intention to stir again, Bela pushed down on her shoulders to keep her still.

"I said don't move."

"Yeahh, I feel like blood loss may be an issue for you. Don't worry though, Mother will be here soon… I think," Daniela said, hands still keeping the cloth pressed to her wound. It made her wince.

On any normal day, that phrase would've probably shot a wave of terror through her. But in that moment the pain and fog in her mind didn't leave room for much more than confusion. "Mothe-... what?"

Daniela shrugged. "Sorry we uh- don't exactly have the tools to pull out bullets. Mother usually takes care of that."

"Now pray dear Cassie can convince her that your life is worth the trouble."

Nicole really didn't know what was worse. Bleeding out or having Lady Dimitrescu prod around at her wound. She tried not to shudder at the thought. Not that she really had time to finish that train of thought as the door opened and none other than the lady of the castle entered.

The only thing that kept her from whimpering was the sight of Cassandra entering right after, hurried steps taking her to Nicole. She gingerly sat on the bed and pushed a couple auburn strands of hair out of her face. When she spoke, her voice was dripping with worry that she tried to morph into something soft.

“It’s okay, Mother will take care of the bullet and then we can patch it up and you’ll be alright.”

Was she trying to convince her or herself? It mattered little, as the words did a good enough job at keeping Nicole’s focus on something not horrible.

She nodded weakly, trying to keep her eyes on Cassandra and not on Lady Dimitrescu wiping her hands somewhere near the bed. She gulped when she felt the bed dip and with her peripheral she could see claws elongating. No more than a few inches but it was enough to make Nicole consider the option of digging around for the bullet herself.

“Here, wouldn’t want you to chip a tooth.” Bela caught her off guard when she pressed a piece of cloth to her lips.

Nicole bit down and let out a muffled yelp when Daniela moved away to make space for her mother, who only sighed at the bloody mess. The talons were brought right above the wound.

“Keep her still darlings.”

All the warning Nicole got was hands clamping around her arms and legs, before razor sharp talons plunged into raw flesh.

She didn’t even realize that she was screaming, until the damp fabric in her mouth almost made her gag. Eyesight also proved itself a traitorous thing, as it was rapidly turning into fuzzy black splotches so Nicole squeezed her eyes shut.

The sensation of the Lady’s talons digging around inside the muscle was indescribably gut wrenching. Every single movement, no matter how small, sent jolts of pain through her body, drawing out pathetic sobs. When claws finally grabbed the bullet, the metal scraping almost made Nicole throw up, but she made the effort to swallow down the bile, as being shot was already bad enough without choking on her own vomit.

The bullet was ripped out unceremoniously and that’s when her body finally decided that it had had enough and shut down. Her muscles went limp and consciousness finally slipped away from her one again.

Lady Dimitrescu simply stood up and wiped her now bloody hand with a tissue. Her golden gaze softened once it landed on her middle daughter, her shaky hands caressing a damp cheek and mumbling words of encouragement to an unconscious Nicole. She gingerly put a hand on Cassandra’s shoulder.

“We can talk more once she wakes up.”

“Thank you Mother.” Cassandra’s voice was uncharacteristically small and she refused to meet her eyes. Lady Dimitrescu simply let her be, shifting her focus to the youngest daughter instead.

“Daniela dear, can you wrap it up?”

“Of course!” She sprung up, grabbing a few medical tools and bandages and starting to close up the wound.

---

The first thing Nicole was aware of was the utterly uncomfortable dampness of her skin. She felt as if she had run a marathon and then immediately jumped into bed, sheets sticking to her skin. The second sensation that came barreling in together with consciousness was the pain radiating from her abdomen. Of course.

She winced as she tried unsuccessfully to shift just a little in a more comfortable spot. Alright, laying in her own sweat. Wonderful. Next best thing?

Opening her eyes. Right, right.

She tentatively cracked one eye open, getting some semblance of relief from the dim light inside the room. It was probably close to sundown and her surroundings were illuminated by beautiful orange hues.

Nicole looked around the room. It wasn’t one that she was familiar with so she assumed it was one of the many guest bedrooms in the castle. Trying to piece together her hazy memories, she deduced that Cassandra probably just brought her to the closest room that had a surface to lay on.

Next thing her eyes landed on was the bandage around her waist. She gingerly traced a finger over the wound and winced when they brushed over stitches. She really ought to teach Daniela proper stitching. Not that I’m complaining.

The door swung open startling Nicole, who put all her effort into not flinching. Cassandra came in with hasty steps, reading the labels of one of the boxes she had in her hands. Golden eyes snapped to the bed when she heard Nicole stirring.

“Nicole you're awake- How do you feel?”

The redhead just took a deep breath, that was apparently too big of an offense to her wound. “Like shit.”

Cassandra just chucked and came to sit by her side. "I sent one of the maids to buy some painkillers. Not sure which one's better though." She once again brought one of the boxes to her face with a huff.

"Pass me the papers inside."

Cassandra did so, taking out the folded papers from each box and handing it over to Nicole. After scanning over the text, she picked one that she assumed would do its thing the quickest. The pain was starting to make her seriously consider knocking herself out for some sweet sweet unconsciousness.

After swallowing the pill with nothing but saliva and sheer exhaustion, she let her hand fall on the bed. There, Cassandra grabbed it, fingers playing with hers in a manner that Nicole has learned was the brunette's way of fidgeting when nervous. What on earth could she be nervous about?

"Hey, I'm okay. Just need some rest and wait for these bad boys to kick in." She started to rub small circles on top of the wrist with her thumb.

"My moms want to talk with you," Cassandra blurted.

[ivanabaqero]

Since I just returned from rehab, here is my.. idk, emotional journey on my chronic illness + mental health or wtf ever u wanna call this. This is the most personal thing I have ever posted but I need to get it out. 

Before you read, I guess I gotta tw this for suicidal thoughts and descriptions of my symptoms.

I don’t even know where to start. It feels like all of this happened in one week and at the same in a span of several years. But no idea, time just kept passing and more shit happened. 

Last summer was pretty cool. I worked hard and made a fuckton of money - not really considering the consequences of the fact that I overstepped the boundaries of my body every single day. Either way, I regret nothing it was pretty cool and another experience I am glad I could make. Well, but when I came back home, I started to notice a few things. Among some weird shit nobody wants to know about, I noticed a change of my eyesight. There was a cloud right on the vision on my left eye and it got blurry. At first, it started with minutes and then it passed. But I knew my body responded to exhaustion in an odd way so I let it slide. As doctors have instructed me, only when it lasts over 24 hours it’s an actual episode/flare and I should go to the ER -- to elaborate this further, I have been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 2015 and have not had any bigger flares since, only the regular symptoms like fatigue, etc.

 I got treated with the regular medication; cortisone. This shit gave me some energy boost for a few days and then, things went back to somewhat normal. The blurry thing in my eye has changed into a weird ass thing called nystagmus. Basically, my eyeball was twitching. It was better than the blurry sight and my doctors told me that physical therapy was the only thing to help me with that, and up until some weeks ago this didn’t stop, at the moment it’s gotten way better though - a relief because that caused me mad headache and made reading really difficult.

Anyway, that was the smaller problem. A few months later, in December around Christmas, I have gotten really weak and have been constantly dizzy. As usual, I let it slide for some days. Up until that point when I couldn’t move from the bed or look at anything else but right up at the ceiling or I would get fucking dizzy. Back to the ER again, the same procedure began. Cortisone  resulted in a massive push of energy that lasted for some days, but after that, all the symptoms slowly returned. Not only that, but it started to get worse. I have been dragging and limping with my left foot since months but I still managed somehow to walk and get around. In January I had a major panic attack when I noticed that I couldn’t walk on my own to my doctors, which is merely an 8 minute walk away. I had to call my mom to bring me back home because I couldn’t go any step more. My doctor sent me to the ER but the next day, I decided that I was fine and being over dramatic and everything was perfectly fine. The whole thing kept getting worse, I could not walk anymore, I kept feeling dizzy all the time unless I was staring at only one spot: my laptop or phone. So that was what I did, ignore my symptoms. Adding to my chronic fatigue, dizziness, inability to walk and my eye problem, a sensitivity problem spread all over my body from the chest downwards. My hands hurt and my fingers cramped up and got stiff, I lost all feeling in my feet. I had an appointment at the neurologist thank god, or else, I would have let it gotten worse and kept telling myself that I am being over dramatic and nothing is actually wrong. Delusional? Maybe. I don’t understand myself there either.

The neurologist decided to keep me in hospital for a whole ass week, getting cortisone every day. I got in there with the ambulance in a wheelchair and left out of there walking again. Not perfectly, but I thought things were looking up. Of course, once the high dose of steroids begins to wear off and you slowly come down from it, you first catch sleep. Steroids this time have been given to me five days in high dose instead of three and in addition, I had to take pills that I had to reduce slowly over another two weeks. I did not sleep in those three weeks more than 3-4 hours per night and then I finally could. To make this more understandable; my brain was tired but my body was buzzing. I also had a tremor that has still not entirely left me as a wonderful side effect from the medication. 

That time stationary they finally put me back in a MRT and found 2 bigger new lesions. One of them in my cerebellum and the other in my spinal cord. Each of them causing me all those massive problems. Back at home I had physical therapy every day, but despite all of it, I had to rely on a wheelchair. I got my wheelchair in march and named him Otto because he is the best man ever. Next time in hospital, I was mentally and physically just fucking done and tried to just ignore how much my mental health was going downhill along with my body, the neurologist offered me stationary rehab at a very well known center where they treat several physical as well as mental illnesses. I said yes, and luckily got a place in July.

The initial plan was to stay there for four weeks, but the doctors suggested to extend to six. I did. And good that I did. I made slow progress. Very slow. To imagine, in twenty minutes at the first day I could barely walk 130m with four  breaks in between, with walking aid and what not - and my last day I made 640m in the same time with no breaks. I know this doesn’t sound like a lot but fuck -- I made it out of a fucking wheelchair. I am walking again. Not perfectly or any good, but my legs are used for their purpose again; to get me through this world. For someone who loves hiking and going for little walks alone, this was such a big deal to just not be able to anymore. 

The day I had the panic attack was the day I realized that in 2015 I made a promise to myself that if I ever have to rely on other people, I would end it. But I felt selfish for not wanting to end it. I felt selfish  for wanting to live and being a burden to people. I know, none of this is my fault and I am the first to give good advice, but am I good at handling my own shit? Absolutely not. 

With all the physical therapy I did for six weeks every day, I also had a psychologist that helped me understand myself better and deal with the trauma this experience brought me. I have to find another psychologist at home as well, because I didn’t feel the one I have helped me at all. I had to make a lot of promises to myself, such as accepting and asking for help and that it’s no shame in doing so. I feared losing my independence and I still do. But fuck, this experience was an eye opener in so many ways. I made new friends in rehab as well, which was one of the coolest things. And I got hit on by two attractive men - can you believe? I was in a wheelchair, dressed like absolute shit and not making any kind of deal of how I look! But yeah, my interest wasn’t really there to get involved in anything. I’ve got a lot of love to give but I need to give it to myself rather than pour it out on someone else.

I learned so many lessons, about my body and about my mind. My brain is an idiot and I have so many fears I was never even able to see until now. I thought optimism could beat everything and well... while it helps me a lot to get through every day life, every now and then I just need a slap in the face to look at things in another light. Not everything is fine if you tell yourself it is, no, you are not over reacting and you are allowed to feel sorry for yourself when life is dealing you a bad card. It doesn’t matter that other people have it worse -- it doesn’t mean your own shit is any less valid. And with that, I am going to wash my face and stop crying. I am still in a shock of reality state because I am  back at home now and everything is different. And I got to admit, I feel a little lonely. But I don’t want to reach out to my old friends at the moment with whom I felt like the “sick friend”. I want more friends in similar positions as me so I don’t have to feel bad for... well, feeling bad, and I don’t want to hear any more optimism monologues from healthy people who have absolutely no idea what it is like to have chronic pain, fatigue and overall; an illness. Whether it be mental or physical.

If you really read all of this, thank you. There was no need to, but I appreciate it. I honestly just needed to let it out. Because I haven’t done so properly since all of that started. 

[komfortkiri]

HELP WANTED (PART 1)

WOLF QUIRK F!READER x HANTA SERO x EIJIRO KIRISHIMA WORD COUNT: 1,724 TW/CW: BULLYING MENTION, PARENTAL ABANDONMENT, PANIC ATTACK MENTION (ONCE)

NOTES: I’ll make a banner for this series whenever I get my shit together on Photoshop, lol. I’ve been on a Sero/Kiri thing lately plus this was brewing in my head so I wanted to hurry and type it all down before I forgot it.

“ HELP WANTED! 3RD AND FINAL ROOMMATE FOR A 3 BEDROOM, 2 BATH HOUSE. — MUST BE RESPONSIBLE AND RELIABLE. TEXT THE NUMBER FOR ANY QUESTIONS. NAME IS KIRI. ”

You had been staring at this ad for a couple of days now. Surely they must have found someone by now, right? You were new around the area and being on your own, wasn’t quite what you had imagined. Your parents? Well, your mom up and decided to leave you behind after bringing you home from the hospital and your dad.. He’s always been there but you wanted to prove you could finally be on your own. You were 24 for God’s sake, of course you could do it, but sometimes— you found yourself wondering if you bit off more than you could chew. Living in this big city full of crazy quirks of all kind, including yours, it was pretty overwhelming.

Oh, your quirk? Well, you were part wolf and people could tell that from looking at you, due to your pointed black ears that rested on either side of the top of your head plus a tail that was pretty fluffy and was also black in color.. Can’t forget the fangs that you have, too. Your howl could deafen someone for a brief amount of time, distracting them. You also had the agility which mean you could run— fast. 

Growing up wasn’t easy at all. You were often teased about your appearance. Kids would pull your tail, thinking it didn’t hurt you when in reality, it did. You spent majority of your childhood wondering why you had to have such an awful quirk, blaming your father since he was also part wolf. However, as you got older, you became more mature and focused more on yourself. Of course, you apologized to your father, which brought the two of your closer, allowing you to confess the reasoning behind why your child days were so… dark and why you lashed out in such ways. 

Your father was a strong man, taking on a few jobs at a time to support you and his self while also keeping the bills paid on time. You admired him for that but you didn’t want to depend on him anymore which led you to where you are right this second— staring at this damned ad, wondering when you’re going to build up some type of courage to text the number. “Oh, for all that is holy, just do it.” You grew tired of being scared so you brought out your phone and texted the number.

TO KIRI: Hey… I was texting about your ad about needing a third roommate and wanted to inquire about it, if you haven’t found anyone yet.

You thought about it again.. What if it was a scam? Oh, you literally brought your palm to your forehead, tapping it a times then halted when your phone buzzed. You looked at the screen, eyes widening in surprise because it was the number from the ad. You had your phone set to where you wouldn’t be able to see previews of your messages unless you unlocked it fully. You braced yourself for a ‘Sorry, we’ve found someone’ or something along those lines. You wouldn’t be surprised since it did take you forever to even act on this whole thing. You swiped left on the message, unlocked your phone, squeezing your eyes shut then took a deep breath. Your right eye slowly opened, eyesight adjusting to the brightness of your screen then falling amongst the words of this Kiri’s response. Your other eye shot open in shock, both your ears perking up.

FROM KIRI: Awesome! We haven’t really had any luck with anyone reliable.. so since that’s the case.. would you mind if me and the other roommate meet you for, say.. coffee? How’s tomorrow morning sound around 8:30-ish?

Thinking to yourself, were you reliable? Of course, you were. Responsible? Absolutely. You worked at a local animal shelter, coincidentally. You worked more with dogs than cats, though, which came with the territory. Dogs obviously gravitated more to you given your natural wolf scent that only they detected with their sense of smell. Recently, you were moved into a management position so you were paid pretty well, which struck up this whole idea to be on your own, per se. Before you could think any further, did you work tomorrow? No, perfect. You rolled over onto your stomach on your bed, tail moving from side-to-side.

TO KIRI: Of course! That sounds great. There’s a coffee shop a few blocks from where I currently stay.. called Camille’s Cafe, not sure if you have heard of it or would prefer something else?

Were you coming off pushy? Demanding? At this point, you didn’t know and you were so nervous that it was driving you crazy but before you could go into panic mode— you got a text back, agreeing on the meeting place and everything. That was… easy.. almost too easy.. Either way, you were thankful they wanted to meet in a public setting in case they really were scammers. That’s when the thought had hit you.. What if they were guys? Kiri didn’t necessarily sound like a guy’s name.. did it? You laughed at your overthinking. No way these were guys.

With that, you looked at the clock on your bedroom wall, it reading 9:30 PM. You decided to go ahead and settle into bed to get enough rest so you didn’t look like a walking zombie when you met your potential roommates for coffee. You plugged in your phone to the charger and laid down, laying awake for an extra hour or so before drifting to sleep.

After a long day of getting phone call after phone call, text after text from different people saying they were interested in their ad, Eijiro and Hanta were close to giving up. Everyone who showed interest had some type of flaw about them, whether it be a bad history of paying rent on time or being an awful roommate in the past. It was becoming annoying, to say the very least. After denying everyone who reached out, Eijiro thought it was best to just block all the numbers to prevent further contact.

“Bro, I’m beginning to lose hope. We probably won’t ever find someone else to move in with us.” Hanta sat down on the couch in the living room with a sigh, kicking his feet up on the table in front of him. “Might as well talk to Kats about ditching that condo he’s in to move in over here with us.” They had thought about that a few times but even the slight mention of a roommate the first time, their friend, Katsuki, was the first to say not to even consider him because he valued his privacy. They didn’t press further because they understood and knew how he was. 

Eijiro sat on the other end of the couch, directly across from Hanta, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees and his head on his hands. “You know exactly how that’ll go, Sero. I say the next person that texts us, we invite to coffee and really figure shit out. It’s been days since we posted that ad, and you know that we need the help we can get.” Hanta nodded in agreement then both their eyes shot down to Eijiro’s phone that lit up with a unsaved number, inquiring about the roommate situation. Hanta moved over to the same side as where Eijiro was to sit down once the red head picked up his phone to look at the message. 

“Huh, look at that! It’s almost like this person heard you.” Hanta chuckled, looking over the message. “What do you think? Coffee?” Eijiro nodded then sent his first text out in response to the inquirer.

TO (YOU): Awesome! We haven’t really had any luck with anyone reliable.. so since that’s the case.. would you mind if me and the other roommate meet you for, say.. coffee? How’s tomorrow morning sound around 8:30-ish?

Sero scowled, “8:30 in the morning, dude? You really must be desperate because we sleep till like noon on our days off. That or you’re hoping it’s a girl.” He laughed then got up to circle around the furniture to head to the kitchen. “I mean, it might be a girl… and it might be good for us. Could teach us a few things.” Kirishima didn’t think about what all that last statement could entail but Sero, thankfully, didn’t catch onto it. “I guess so. Did they respond?” Just as soon as he finished asking his question, another text came through. 

“How do you feel about Camille’s down the road?” Kirishima looked over to Sero who thought for a minute then shrugged with a nod, “Alright, yeah. I could go for one of her bagels. We haven’t seen the lady in a while so we should pay her a visit.” Camille was an older woman who had a heart of gold and loved both Kirishima and Sero. They always were such gentleman when they came in but they stopped going once the crime rate escalated the past few weeks. 

“That’s true. I told the person it sounded great so. Let’s head to bed so we can actually wake up early and look decent instead of a mess.” Kirishima rose from the sofa to head toward his room. Sero called out, “Wouldn’t have to get beauty sleep at all if you didn’t schedule this meeting at the crack ass of dawn.” With that, Kirishima held out his arm behind him, giving Sero the middle finger. “Stop your bitching and go to bed, princess.”

Sero laughed and both settled into bed for the night. While one went to sleep pretty quick, the other laid awake, wondering who this mystery person could be. The thought of whether it was a female or not, really stuck to Eijiro’s mind. He had hoped that if it was, they wouldn’t be scared away by the fact that they’d be living with two guys should they accept the offer at all. Kirishima wanted them to be as comfortable as possible and that’s what he intended on doing and without noticing, he drifted into a deep sleep.

[just-come-baek]

get in, loser 1

Pairing: Taeyong x female!reader

Themes: smut | mafiaboss!taeyong | carthief!reader

Word count: 6.2k

Summary: How to get noticed by the most dangerous man in the country? I guess stealing his sport car and dying it hot pink must catch his attention.

Warnings: car theft | speeding | alcohol consumption | jaehyun being taeyong’s henchman | hardcore brainstorming | taeyong being touchy | more in next chapters

A/N This series will be around 5 chapters long. New updates shall be posted once every two weeks I hope. Also, @starlightbebes challenged me into posting chapter 1 on Taeyong’s birthday, so I won. ^^ Pay up.

***

Considering it was Saturday night, the city seemed oddly serene. Any other night, I’d witness some wild shit, yet tonight, it was quite peaceful. No prostitutes were arguing with no-cooperative customers, no inexperienced adolescents throwing up in the public trash cans, no aggressive football spectators fighting with their rivals.

Despite the calm aura, the city was vibrant; colorful neon signs were blinking, inviting people into different liquor establishments, cars honking on drunken pedestrians jaywalking across the streets, a few undiscovered musicians playing on the main square with plenty of tourists recording them.

Each establishment promised an unforgettable night, and for some people, it would be a real dilemma to pick one among such a rich palette of entertainment. I, on the other hand, had a pretty well-defined plan of stealing a fancy car – a precious possession of one, infamous crime lord in the country.

It wouldn’t be my first car theft, yet it surely was going to be the most meaningful one. Everyone in town knew that Lee Taeyong was up to no good. When it came to his personal taste, though, it was impeccable. The most expensive, the most extravagant, the fastest cars belonged to him, so stealing one of his astounding vehicles would be the cherry on top of my villainous career.

Rumor had it, tonight he’s celebrating in his VIP club – the Cherry Bomb; if you ask me, its name is a little bit tacky, but who I am to judge? The crowd of people trying to get inside was enormous, so despite its name, the local must’ve been quite profitable.

Being the most dangerous crime lord in the country must be a pretty time-consuming profession – I wouldn’t expect him to get to the club before midnight. Regardless of what must’ve been on his to-do list tonight, his schedule was bound to be packed.

It was almost 1 o’clock when matte black carbon-fibred McLaren P1 LM with “DRAGON” written on its registration plate pulled over in front of the club; in an instant, people in the queue grew silent, mesmerized by the handsome man who nonchalantly got out of the car, tossing the keys to the valet boy.

Lee Taeyong was just as good-looking as he was deadly – with his styled-up tousled vibrant-red hair, ripped black jeans, and a top-brand leather jacket, he made people turn their heads despite their gender and sexual orientation. In all honesty, I did my research, I had dozens of pictures of him, and I knew what to expect. The pictures didn’t do him justice, though. His natural beauty was enchanting, but when topped with his charisma and cocky confidence, it was a lethal mixture.

When Taeyong strolled inside his establishment, I, just like the other people who were in rapture, could finally get my shit together. It was remarkably difficult to remain in the right state of mind when he was within your eyesight, and tonight, it was going to be my most significant theft, so I couldn’t get distracted.

“You can do this,” I encouraged myself before running across the street, ready to execute the first stage of my plan.

I didn’t dare to doubt my skills for even a second. Tonight I would succeed, and Taeyong would have to call an Uber to get back to his grand mansion.

***

It’s been three days since my ingenious heist, and I was getting impatient. I wanted Taeyong to find me and talk to me, yet I was waiting and waiting, and he didn’t seem interested in getting his car back. It was actually disappointing. I couldn’t contain my curiosity; I just needed to see his reaction after I had his car tuned. I had made sure to be caught on their CCTV, so he would quickly track my traces, but it only proved me he was working with rookies.

Checking the time on my wristwatch, I walked into the run-down car repair shop, wanting to sneak one last peek at my masterpiece before I’d put a cover over it so Taeyong would gasp upon the big reveal. The new car paint looked amazing – Doyoung, my friend and a mechanic, did a great job dying it hot pink. Too bad, he was too scared to wait for Taeyong with me. I couldn’t blame him, though. Taeyong was known for his short temper, and it was understandable that Doyoung didn’t want to stick around to witness Taeyong’s wrath.

“What is taking him so long?” I asked myself as I plopped down in a ripped leather armchair, cracking a cold one. “How long does it take them to find the guys who don’t want to be found?” I wondered, pulling my phone, scrolling through the new content on my social media.

It was taking them forever, but when the sun was slowly setting behind the horizon, I could hear a vehicle park in front of the car repair shop. Judging by the engine’s roars, the car was expensive.

It must’ve been Taeyong himself.

“Finally,” I hollered as I got on my feet, throwing my slowly dying phone on the armchair. If the crime lord showed up, he needed to be welcomed accordingly. Taeyong was a royalty amongst gangers, and he deserved the best treatment.

Midnight blue Bugatti Chiron registered under “FURY” stopped on the parking lot, and I waited for Taeyong to get out. Seconds passed, and he was still sitting comfortably in the vehicle, building the tension. I didn’t feel stressed, though. Although we hadn’t been properly introduced, I knew a whole lot about him – he was famous for his rage. However, right now, he had to be impressed rather than enraged. Or at least, it was the emotion I hoped for him to feel.

Only a complete psycho, and me, would dare to steal one of his automobiles.

The descending sun was blinding me, and when I raised my hand to block the direct sunlight, the car doors opened. Even in daylight, Taeyong looked like a five-course meal. Today, he was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a Gucci T-shirt; the outfit was simple, yet on him, it looked elevated.

“Very impressive,” he shouted loudly before he coolly walked over. “You’ve got balls, I have to give you that,” he added, and I smirked, considering his words as a compliment. Men of high positions often have trouble complimenting people, let alone women, and Taeyong didn’t seem to be an exception.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, too,” I answered politely, offering him a handshake, which he contemptuously denied. “I must say, I expected to meet you sooner,” I jabbed, but Taeyong only looked at me condescendingly before he walked inside, impatient to check up on his stolen property.

“My people located you yesterday morning, but I wanted to see you in person, and you must know, I am a busy person,” he explained, studying the shabby interior. “No one steals from me.”

“Well… I already have, and it was easier than I previously assumed,” I answered confidently before approaching the cover. “I have a surprise for you, are you ready?” Taeyong didn’t even flinch, and I considered his indifference as an agreement. With one quick pull, I uncovered the vehicle, allowing him to see my teeny tiny change. “I hope you like pink.”

Taeyong grew silent.

I had told Doyoung to change the car paint to hot pink, yet Taeyong didn’t even blink. I expected him to get pissed or, at least, annoyed, but when I looked at his features, I couldn’t see any reaction.

“Actually, pink is my favorite color,” Taeyong emotionlessly announced, and I only stared at him in utter confusion.

What the fuck?

“Well… I expected a different reaction,” I spoke, the wires in my brain incapable of coming up with anything intelligent. A guy with such a foul reputation favors the color pink.

Imagine my shock.

Apparently, Taeyong is a man of many layers.

“Who are you?” Taeyong condescendingly asked as he sat comfortably in the armchair, putting my phone on the armrest. Calmly, he leaned backward, crossed his legs, and entwined his fingers over his bent knee, waiting for me to tell him everything he wanted to know.

“I think you already know who I am,” I stated, and he just stared at me intensely. His people must’ve done a background check on me, yet he still wanted to hear it again. Stealing his car was one thing, but disrespecting him about such trivial matter seemed way worse. Doing something so risky and bold was admirable in his eyes, but wasting his time like this was just annoying, so I simply did what was expected of me.

I told Taeyong about my childhood – how I spent my allowance on go-kart races; it was my escape whenever my father got drunk and picked up fights with my mom. Then, I disclosed my secrets on how I began stealing cars – when I was seventeen, because of excessive drinking, my father needed a liver transplant, and it was the only way of getting money remotely quickly. Later, at the age of twenty-one, I participated in my first street race, though this time, it wasn’t because I needed money – I did it because I enjoyed the thrill.

“How did you steal it? How, on Earth, did you go inside the club without any of my workers noticing you?” Taeyong asked, and although he must’ve already concluded my operating plan, he wanted me to explain it myself. This time around, I didn’t even hesitate.

“I blended in,” I shortly answered with a shrug. “It wasn’t that difficult to find out all the information I needed to get inside unnoticed. I checked all your staff’s social media accounts; it took me like… three days of stalking to get their names and work schedules. That night, I sneaked into the club right after your arrival, and when somebody asked me something, I told them I was busy doing the thing the manager wanted me to do. They just assumed I am the new girl. Normally, I don’t do things like that when I steal a car, but this time around, I wanted to do something extra. Are you impressed?” I challenged, and Taeyong cocked his eyebrow, deeply in thought.

“Huh, last question. Why have you done it?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I inquired rhetorically, and Taeyong didn’t even bother to give me a proper answer. He seemed bored, and it was making me feel a little bit fed-up. “Well… in all honesty, I am sick and tired of freelancing, I want to work for you,” I elaborated, and Taeyong just chuckled as if I just told him a hilarious joke. Why was he laughing? It was a reasonable proposition, and besides, I’ve already proven my amazing skills.

“I’m not recruiting, sorry,” Taeyong spoke when he stood up and glanced at his pink vehicle. Well… it was a harsh rejection. “You have one day to return my car, or I will have my henchman kill you,” he added, walking up to me until he invaded my personal space.

“Asshole,” I whispered loud enough for him to hear me. Taeyong already knew what I was capable of, yet for some reason, he still decided not to give me a chance. It was a dick move, and I couldn’t let him have the last word.

“You’re feisty. I like that,” Taeyong said at last, “Let’s meet on Friday, at the Superhuman. Midnight. Don’t be late.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me, and don’t forget to bring my fucking car.”

***

“She’s here,” Jaehyun told Taeyong as soon as the gatekeeper forwarded the message. “I can’t believe you didn’t kill her back then,” he added matter-of-factly, remembering the infamous car theft. No matter how many times he thought about it, he couldn’t comprehend how someone could be so stupid to mess with his boss. What puzzled him even more, however, was the fact that Taeyong seemed rather impressed by this woman’s actions.

“I was surprised too,” Taeyong answered honestly. “Can you believe she had the audacity to ask me to recruit her?”

Jaehyun was stupefied. “Well… are you going to?”

“Actually, I am not sure,” Taeyong replied hesitantly. It wasn’t how the regular recruitment process worked, but the woman intrigued him. She had seemed quite keen on working for him, and he was curious how much she wanted this job. “I haven’t decided yet,” Taeyong added, and Jaehyun looked at his boss in concern; Taeyong was impulsive in his decisions, and the fact that he hasn’t made up his mind yet was rather peculiar.

“You can’t be serious,” Jaehyun commented, hoping for Taeyong to come back to his senses. This wasn’t the way the things were dealt with here; if someone dared to mess with the leader, death was the kindest thing they could hope for. If other members found out about it, they might’ve thought Taeyong was getting soft. She disrespected the leader, and she ought to have faced the consequences.

“Bring her in, Jaehyun,” Taeyong ordered, dismissing Jaehyun’s concerns.

“Of course.”

“I expected to meet you in one of the VIP lounges, not in your office,” I spoke the second Taeyong’s henchman led me into an expensive-looking office at the back of the club. “You should’ve given me heads-up, I would’ve dressed accordingly,” I carried on, glancing down at my not suitable clothes.

My outfit consisted of a cropped T-shirt, denim shorts, fishnets, and a pair of combat shoes, and it did not look appropriate under these circumstances. I was expecting a flirty conversation in Taeyong’s natural habitat of leather lounges, expensive drinks, and beautiful girls competing amongst each other for his attention, but instead, he surprised me with a job interview in his private office at the back of his club. If only I had known, I would’ve dressed suitably.

“Leave us alone, Jaehyun,” Taeyong spoke in an authoritarian tone, and his associate left the room without any further comment.

The second I heard the doors click, I let out a breath of relief. For some reason, the henchman’s presence gave me chills. It was difficult to remain composed with Taeyong in such close vicinity, however, when accompanied by the other dangerous man, I felt uncomfortably anxious.

Taeyong’s piercing gaze was fixated on me, and it made me blush a little bit. He was hot as hell, and in all honesty, any woman would react this way if alone with him.

With one fluid motion, he commanded me to sit, and with a sheepish smile on my face, I obliged.

“You seem to be in a good mood,” I started, but Taeyong only smirked, sliding an A4 format envelop across the desk. “What is this?” I asked in confusion, but Taeyong just sat back, entwining his fingers together, enjoying my reaction.

Gang members didn’t sign employment contracts – that’d be silly.

“You admittance,” he started, and I cocked my eyebrow, trying to understand what the hell was going on. “Inside the envelope, you’ll find all the necessary information about your new assignment. Bring this car to me within a week, and you’ll be officially the newest addition to the family.”

It was interesting.

Taeyong had already seen me in action, yet he needed another proof of my qualifications. Actions speak louder than words, but my most recent ones screamed and ought to echo in his ears for years!

“Don’t look at me like that, it’s just a regular procedure, don’t take it personally,” Taeyong added, but I wasn’t exactly buying that. There must’ve been something that he didn’t tell me. There was a catch, it must’ve been. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have that playful spark in his eyes the whole time.

 “I’ll text you the meeting location sometime this week,” he added with a genuine smile, and I didn’t even dare to question how he got my number. “Good luck, doll,” smirking, Taeyong whispered, and I started questioning his intentions.

It must’ve been a set-up.

“I look forward to hearing from you,” I answered respectfully, quickly standing up, wanting to run out of the club. Curiosity was killing me; I had to peek inside the envelope, but I couldn’t do it in front of Taeyong. I hoped he acknowledged me as fearless and confident, and I couldn’t allow him to change his opinion about me. One hesitant glance at the papers could ruin my image, and I couldn’t let it happen.

“Are you out of your mind? You can’t be serious! Tell me you didn’t recruit her,” Jaehyun angrily stormed into Taeyong’s office, fed up with the leader’s decision. The girl left the club alive, and it’s not the outcome he anticipated. Jaehyun would break her neck if only Taeyong told him to. Letting her scot-free was a mistake, and it was crazy that Jaehyun was the only one to realize it.

“Calm down, Jaehyun,” Taeyong announced casually, making Jaehyun a bit confused. “I did give her an assignment, but don’t you worry about it. She’s gonna fail. She’s good, but not that good,” Taeyong added, and both of them smirked mischievously.

***

I’ve never been more anxious. My grip on the envelope was tight, my knuckles turning white, and I really had mixed feelings about opening it. Taeyong’s mischievous smirk couldn’t have been a good omen.

On the other hand, I couldn’t let the stress weaken me, so I did what any other person in my shoes would do – I went to the liquor store and bought the biggest bottle of gin they had. Regardless of what Taeyong had assigned me to do, it would be easier to digest when drunk.

Then I hailed the cab and dialed Doyoung’s number. He picked up after the fourth ring. “I’m coming over,” I quickly said, notifying him before my arrival. As my friend, he would help me if the alcohol was to fail.

“You’re alive, so I assume it didn’t go that bad,” Doyoung spoke when he opened the doors and let me in. Not bothering to greet him, I walked passed him and shoved the bottle of gin into his hands. “Are we celebrating?” He asked, kicking the doors shut, “please, tell me we’re celebrating.”

“I don’t know,” I answered, plopping into an old armchair, throwing the envelope on the coffee table. “We’re about to find out. Taeyong gave me another assignment, but pour me a drink first. I’m not sure I can handle it sober,” I explained, and Doyoung knew what to do. Within a minute, he was back with two Scooby-doo mugs and a bottle of tonic.

“It can’t be that bad,” he started as he sat down on the couch on the other side of the coffee table, pouring us drinks, which were basically 80% alcohol. “I mean… you’ve stolen his car; can it get any more challenging than that?” Doyoung asked, and I actually had to admit he was right. Taeyong’s the most dangerous crime lord in the country; as long as he didn’t make me steal Kim Jongun’s tank, I should be fine. However, on the second thought, I didn’t know Taeyong that well, so the guess might’ve not been that farfetched.

“I don’t want to open this envelope,” I confessed as I picked up the mug with Shaggy’s face and took a large gulp.

“Do you want me to do that for you?” Doyoung proposed, and I nodded. Perhaps if Doyoung read it out for me, it would’ve been easier to accept my fate. “Because you’re all stressed out, I’m all fidgety too,” Doyoung added before he grabbed the envelope, looking inside.

“What does it say?” I inquired in curiosity, hoping to hear some good news.

“It looks like you gotta steal a yellow Ferrari LaFerrari,” Doyoung started, as he pulled out a picture of my target. OK, it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, it was doable. “And it belongs to someone called Yuta,” he spoke, and I jumped to my feet and snatched the papers out of Doyoung’s hands in disbelief.

It must’ve been a sick joke.

“It can’t be,” I whispered, refusing to comprehend what Taeyong wanted of me. He was a complete psycho if he thought I could steal one of Yuta’s cars.

“Do you know this dude?” Doyoung inquired, reaching for his cup with Fred.

“Do I know this dude?” I deadpanned, trying not to burst out in tears. I was royally screwed. “It’s Nakamoto Yuta. He’s the royalty of Yakuza. He’s basically Taeyong’s biggest rival,” I explained, and it got Doyoung speechless.

“Well… it sucks,” he whispered, downing his drink, ignoring the burn. “What are you gonna do?”

“Good question,” I replied, coping Doyoung’s actions, drinking my gin to the very last drop. “Even if I manage to steal his car, how am I supposed to get it across the border? It’s a suicide mission.”

“Is there anything else in the envelope?” Doyoung asked, and I put all the papers on the coffee table. Among documents about Yuta’s bio, there was a check for 20 grand written under my name. “Mr. Bad Boy must’ve felt generous,” he commented, but I didn’t find it amusing. Mr. Bad Boy, as Doyoung eloquently put it, would kill me if I failed this mission.

“Generous or not, I’m gonna be dead if I don’t bring this car to him within a week,” I muttered, feeling helpless. I lacked ideas on how to conduct the theft successfully, and the time was slowly running out.

“You can do this,” Doyoung stated confidently, not even a sliver of hesitation in his tone. He was absolutely sure of my skills, and I wished I had as much faith in myself as he had in me. “We have no time to waste; pack everything you need, we’re going to Japan.”

“Do you have a plan, though?”

“We’ll come up with one on our way.”

***

Doyoung was right; we had no time to waste. God, in times like these, I was really thankful he was my friend. Right now, when I was a nervous wreck, he was the voice of reason. If it wasn’t for him, I’d get wasted and pass out in the poodle of my own vomit. Thanks to him, I was only slightly tipsy, but productive as fuck. We made a stop by my apartment and his car repair to get everything necessary, and then took a train to the harbor.

The first ferry to Japan was leaving the docks at 7 o’clock. The journey was about to last more or less 8 hours, it was plenty of time to finish the entire bottle of gin and come up with a foolproof plan on how to steal that Ferrari.

“How about you seduce Yuta, and he lets you borrow his car?” Doyoung voiced his seventh plan this morning, and in comparison to his previous ideas, it actually seemed doable. “It’s great in its simplicity,” he added, and I shook my head in disappointment. Even if I was his type, how was I supposed to bullshit my way into his pants without any Japanese skills?

“How about you seduce Yuta, and when he’s busy drilling your ass, I’ll sneak into his mansion and snatch the car?” I proposed, and Doyoung fake-gagged at the thought of doing this. Or maybe, he just has had one shot of gin too many. One could never be sure…

“How about you seduce Yuta and talk him into doing it in his car, and when you’re about to do it, I knock him out with a rock?”

“How about we go to Yuta’s club, and you challenge him in a singing duel, and you win the car fair and square?”

“How about we find Yuta’s doppelganger to steal his identity and pay him to steal the car for you?”

“How about we kidnap Yuta and keep him hostage until they give us the car?”

“How about we hypnotize Yuta into making him lend us his car?”

Truthfully, we struggled a lot while trying to figure out the best way to prove my worth to Taeyong. Stealing Yuta’s car wasn’t an easy assignment – some people would say it was impossible. Thankfully, we came up with one solution throughout our drunken brainstorm that wasn’t that bad…

We were so drunk that I couldn’t actually remember who came up with this idea. One second, Doyoung and I were brainstorming, then, a moment later, someone woke us up because we reached the shore.

“Come on, we have no time,” Doyoung said as he picked up his bag, urging me to pick up mine and get off the ferry. I rubbed my eyes and looked at him, wondering how, on Earth, he wasn’t hungover. “You’ve got only six days left…”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I answered, groaning.

I had an unpleasant feeling in my gut, telling me this week was going to be awful, but at least we had figured out a plan. It was far from perfection, but with proper execution, I could pull this through.

***

By sheer luck, I managed to accomplish my seemingly impossible mission. Though I didn’t fully believe in the plan, we didn’t make a single mistake, and after three days of data analyzing and one night of the actual heist, we were on our way back.

Hopefully, it was the only recruitment assignment that Taeyong wanted me to fulfill.

On Friday, one hour before the meet-up, Taeyong sent me the location.

In an hour, I’d become one of his people, and I wanted to look worthy of the new position. Wisely, I chose my best outfit, deciding to wear a pair of black leather trousers, a modest white button-down shirt, and fancy boots on a 10 centimeters heel. I looked formal, but with a fierce twist, and I gave off that cutthroat businesswoman vibe. I lived for this outfit. And to top it all, I carefully applied make-up, making sure to highlight all of my features.

I expected to meet with Taeyong in his extravagant mansion, yet he surprised and scared me at the same time with his decision. This gig cost me a lot of stress, and the last thing I wanted was to meet with the most dangerous thug in the country in a deserted meeting point in the city outskirts.

Trying to remain calm, I sighed to shake off all types of negative thoughts. Terrifying scenarios were playing in my head in which Taeyong shot me in the head and dumped my body somewhere in the woods. Taeyong was a dangerous gangster, but I believed he had the honor and would not kill me without any concrete reason.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t say the same thing about his henchmen – this Jaehyun guy in particular. It was obvious the guy hated me and was pissed with Taeyong because of me. I didn’t fancy meeting with him, it would be best if Taeyong and I could talk alone.

Punctually, I arrived at the meeting point. Nonchalantly, I got out of the vehicle, shut the doors close, and leaned against the hood, waiting for Taeyong to appear. The night was warm, yet a little bit windy – it was perfect for the employment celebration.

Taeyong was running a bit late, but I didn’t mind. Besides, he was the most wanted thug in the country; he wasn’t running late – anyone he was meeting with was just too early.

So I waited.

Thankfully, I had plenty of time to psych myself up, so when I heard an engine roar in the distance, I didn’t panic. I was confident enough to face Taeyong and genuinely smile in response to his compliments. This theft was epic, and I expected to hear how impressed he was of me. It was the only reaction I hoped to get.

I was right, it had to be Taeyong. Who else could’ve been in the jet black Audi R8 Spyder registered under “WHIPLASH”?

Having parked right beside me, Taeyong got out of the car, carefully inspecting the Ferrari. His focused eyes were studying the vehicle’s features as if trying to tell it indeed belonged to Yuta. In the meantime, I studied Taeyong’s outfit.

Tonight, he was wearing all black: a pair of high combat shoes, black cargo pants, a see-through shirt, and a leather jacket. The outfit was on point, but when topped with his new haircut – tousled and of powder pink color, Taeyong looked like a model. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found out that modeling companies contact him every once in a while to recruit him.

“How did you do it?” Taeyong asked, his tone telling me he didn’t believe in my talent. Well… that hurt a little bit, but proving him wrong gave me a lot of pleasure at the same time.

“It wasn’t easy,” I started, not really wanting to spill the beans; especially, when the story wasn’t as impressive as he might’ve thought. “I really wanted this job, so I had to figure out a plan. You know how it is… you gotta discover your enemies’ weaknesses and use them to your advantage.”

“It doesn’t answer my question, doll,” Taeyong remarked, smirking at the nickname he once again used to refer to me. It must’ve really stuck with him. “I gotta be honest with you, I expected you to fail, but you actually did it. I’m impressed,” he added, and I smiled, swiping my hair to the back in a nonchalant manner.

“What can I say? I’m really good at what I do,” I replied, looking into his eyes, trying to remain in the confident pose. “Now, it would be a mistake not to hire me,” I trailed off, making Taeyong smirk again. He was gorgeous, but when that mischievous smirk decorated his face, he was just breath-taking.

With his hands in the pockets, Taeyong took a few nonchalant steps toward me and placed his hands on the hood of the car, leaning in, trapping me between his arms. His stern glace was trying to penetrate my mind, to read me, but I managed to remain calm.

I wanted to work for him, not to hop on his dick, and though the second option seemed rather tempting, I had my priorities set straight.

“From the moment I saw you, I knew you were special,” Taeyong whispered in a husky voice, and I looked up into his eyes, swallowing hard. He was indisputably intimidating, but I couldn’t let his charm overtake me. “You seem troublesome, but at the same time, awfully skilled.”

“You bet,” I answered, trying to ignore the fact that Taeyong just pushed his leg between my thighs, inching closer and closer with every second. “Is that how you treat all your employees?” I asked, trying not to lose my cool.

“They’re not employees, they’re family,” Taeyong clarified, and I rolled my eyes, actually expecting his kind of answer from him. “And that would be weird if I treated them this way, wouldn’t it?”

“They wouldn’t be your family, but your orgy if you ask me,” I spoke matter-of-factly, waiting for his reaction since I doubted anyone was this frank with him.

“Why do I have a feeling you’re gonna be a huge pain in the ass?” Taeyong asked, hopefully not expecting an answer. “Quite talented one,” he added, dropping his head down to my neck, placing a delicate peck against my sensitive skin.

“But hey, it’s what keeps everything fresh and exciting,” I offered, suggesting looking on the bright side of these circumstances. “So… speaking of my recruitment…” I mentioned, internally wishing for Taeyong to keep his hands to himself. I was trying to be professional, and it was incredibly difficult with the boss, basically making out with my neck.

“One more test and you’re officially a new addition to the family,” Taeyong said sternly, finally pulling out. “You said you race, I want to see you in action,” he added, and I bit my bottom lip due to stress. Seriously? Another test? He got to be kidding me. “Don’t worry; it’s a formality at this point.”

Honestly, his words didn’t cheer me up at all. I had stolen his car, and then I had been to Japan to steal his rival’s car. And now, he wanted me to pass another test. Come on!

“All you gotta do is to give me a lift back to my mansion,” Taeyong announced, somewhat excited to see my driving performance. “The route takes up to 20 minutes, so I’m gonna give you ten. It sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

“What about your car? I wouldn’t leave it here if I were you,” I remarked, trying to make out a logical answer. I wouldn’t leave my bike here, let alone a sports car, knowing how much crime was going on in this particular part of the city.

“Normally, I’d not, but you see… I caught a flat tire,” Taeyong explained, and I cocked my eyebrow, trying to see which tire was pierced. I didn’t notice any damage, but then, Taeyong pulled out his gun, shooting through the left back tire, making his point. “It was an exceptionally unfortunate accident,” he added, and I rolled my eyes at him.

He was a mad man.

“OK, fine, get in, loser,” I said, inviting him inside the car. Having sat comfortably and fastened our seatbelts, Taeyong put the location into the GPS. “Are you gonna time me?”

“Of course,” Taeyong answered, extending his arm, staring at his expensive wristwatch. “You have ten minutes, starting… now.”

Carefully, I chose one of my playlists before driving off.

It was a wild ride. I was driving twice as fast as the road signs were telling me to while singing my heart out to Backstreet Boys’ biggest hits “Everybody” and “I Want It That Way”. At this point, Taeyong was probably questioning whether it was safe to get in the car with me, or not. Though I encouraged him to join me in this carpool karaoke, yet he decided not to.

The navigation system was giving me weird directions, trying to lead me into congestion. Listening to my driver’s instinct, I sped through some self-discovered shortcuts. Judging my Taeyong’s expression, he had no idea what I was doing.

In the middle of “I Want It That Way”, I had to speed up even more. Each song is about four minutes long, so I still had about three minutes left to make it to the mansion, and though I seemed rather calm, I was out of my mind.

I’ve gone too far to lose right now. I couldn’t let this short race end up my flourishing career. I had stolen two cars within two weeks, and both vehicles belonged to the most dangerous men in their countries. I couldn’t lose now.

Breaking probably all traffic laws, I managed to reach Taeyong’s mansion before the boys got to finish the last chorus.

“You’re a triple threat, doll,” Taeyong said, and I wondered what the third admirable thing about me was. Undoubtedly, he was impressed with my theft and racing skills, yet I didn’t have a clue what was the third factor. “You’re officially one of us,” he added, and I smiled widely, ecstatic to finally hear his words of approval.

After so much testing, I finally proved my worth to him, and he took me under his wings.

Having pulled out his phone, Taeyong gave me a few instructions. “From this moment onward, Lucas is your direct superior, you gotta report everything back to him; I texted you the address. Be there first thing in the morning. Better be on time, Lucas doesn’t like it when people are late.”

“Thank you, Taeyong.”

“Don’t thank me, doll,” Taeyong replied, opening the doors, ready to exit the vehicle. “You have no idea what you’ve got yourself into.”

“I’ve got one more question…” I hollered, and Taeyong sat back in the passenger seat, waiting for my final inquiry. “What am I supposed to do with this car?” I asked, and Taeyong shrugged nonchalantly, suggesting it was not his problem.

“Get rid of it, obviously,” Taeyong answered, confirming my suspicions. “It belongs to Yuta, and the last thing I want is him realizing that I have it. Burn it down, dump it in the lake, I don’t care, just make sure it’s not gonna be found.”

“Great,” I whispered, losing enthusiasm with each voiced letter. It was problematic to bring it here, yet disposing of it was going to be even worse.

“Don’t lose your spirit, doll,” Taeyong added, leaning down towards me. With his right hand, he raised my chin and pressed a delicate peck against the skin of my cheek. “Good luck, make your daddy proud,” he whispered before exiting the car, shutting the doors close.

Though Taeyong was long gone, I was sitting in the vehicle, not leaving the driveway. What the hell just happened? Not only was he using this stupid nickname, but then he dropped that daddy bomb. I was not prepared for this.  

[stardust-walker]

High Hopes

Chapter 1: The Highway

Synopsis:  Dove Sawyer was more than happy going to her job, coming home, and maybe being able to talk to her sister if she was real lucky. None of that matters when the dead start to walk and she ended up in the woods with her older sister's family and a bunch of strangers. It's almost always been the two sisters but she never thought it would be so literal. Dove is sure in for a surprise when someone in the group starts to look after her family almost as much as she does.

Word: 1801

Author’s note: Ya girl is at it on tumblr now. The fic is also posted on AO3 here as well as on wattpad so I figured why not here as well since I’m posting Welcome Home mostly on here for now. I have 30 chapters up so I’ll be posting 2 or 3 a day until I’m all caught up! If anyone wants to be added to my taglist, just hmu.

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The young woman sat in the backseat of the Jeep Cherokee. She wished she'd had time to get her own car before her sister had panicked and basically dragged her out of the house with a half-packed suitcase, a few things already in her purse, and the clothes on her back. Ed was not happy about it and she could, for once, agree with him on that. It was a miracle they were both still alive 2 hours into a motionless traffic jam.

"Shouldn't they be saying something about this on the radio? What the hell is going on? Think you can change the station?" Dove finally spoke up for the first time in a half hour. The uncomfortable silence was broken by even more uncomfortable discussion. She could see the radio on but there was no noise coming from it since the emergency alert had stopped. She'd tried to be as delicate as she could with Sophia in the seat right next to her. Too bad her own father couldn't be so kind.

"Don't know. Guess a degree doesn't teach you everything." Ed snapped from the front seat and she noticed her sister tense up next to him.

"Jesus Christ, Ed. I was just asking you a question," Dove let out a heavy sigh as she pushed her door open.

"Where are you going," Carol's voice sounded slightly higher pitched than the last time she'd said anything.

"I'm just going to see if anyone else might know something. Maybe someone has a CB or heard from someone in the city. I'll be back. If I'm not back in a half hour, send a search party," she joked as she ruffled her niece's hair, not missing another snide comment about her being an uppity bitch from the man in the driver's seat. She hated leaving her family alone with Ed but right now she didn't really have a choice.

She felt like something was going on that someone else might know about and it was killing her not knowing. At least if no one else knew what was going on, she might be able to find someone actually intelligent to talk to. Anything was better than spending another minute inside the stuffy car in the Atlanta spring.

Part of her wished that she'd had time to change too. Damn Carol, she thought to herself as she pulled the fabric of her jean shorts back to their place an inch above her knee. Dove grabbed her sunglasses off the seat and slammed the car door shut as she started to meander her way down the freeway.

It wasn't weird to see an Interstate crowded or at a near standstill, but that was usually at rush hour with people going home or to work. Something about the way it was right now was eerie. It wasn't a feeling that was strange to her by any means, working in mental health will do that to you. Dove paused at the car up and over one from Carol's.

Her eyes lingered at the pistol on the man's hip before shifting upwards to his shirt. "Hey, officer. Any idea what's going on here?" She frowned slightly as she took a step forward, the man turned slightly to look over at her. A dark haired woman was sitting on the trunk of the car, a boy no older than Sophia perched up there next to her. The poor kid looked pale and stressed out. His mother didn't look much better.

"No clue. Maybe they're screening people on their way into the refugee center? Only thing that makes sense." The man looked concerned as he ran a hand through his hair. He seemed nervous. Dove nodded slowly and shifted her weight to her other foot.

"I hope you're right." She ran a hand across her forehead to wipe away the sweat. "I'm Dove, by the way. Dove Sawyer. Back there's my sister, Carol. She's got a little girl about your boy's age. Sure she wouldn't mind the company. Plus we might have some extra water in there if you're thirsty, bud." She smiled comfortingly in the direction of the little boy.

"Mom..." The little boy looked up at his mom. The poor thing looked so stressed out. She couldn't help but wonder what they'd been through before they decided to go to the refugee camp.

"We'll have to see, Carl." The dark-haired woman ruffled his hair before she kissed his forehead. "Thank you." Dove didn't miss the look she shot to the officer.

"Well, I'm Shane. That over there is Lori and the little man is Carl," Shane held his hand out and Dove shook it.

"Nice to meet you. I'm planning on trekking up ahead. Seeing if anyone's heard anything. People might have family in the city, you know? I'll probably circle back within the hour though. I'll be sure to let you know if I find anything out," she wished she could be a little more comforting especially with a little kid being involved. They did seem grateful for any information though. There was no doubt in her mind that the cop would try to figure something out just like she was.

With a quick wave, she bid Shane goodbye and started back off down the highway.

~

She'd definitely been gone longer than she told her sister and she'd gotten a quiet sort of hell for it when she got back to the car. Carol didn't want Ed to hear that she'd been worried about her. "Do you have idea how worried Sophia was?" Carol said through gritted teeth as the two women stood a few feet from the car. Dove frowned and shifted her gaze from the car to the ground. She was happy, at least, that Sophia seemed happy and distracted by Carl and his mother having joined them shortly after Dove had departed.

"Sorry, guess I just lost track of time," Dove couldn't shake the eerie feeling that still crept up her spine. The sun was had started to go down. "I didn't hear anything. From anyone else, I mean. Everyone's clueless. Something isn't right, Carol. People looked sick..." She trailed off as her brother-in-law glared in their direction. It was clear this conversation was over before Carol even took a step towards her husband.

Dove let out a heavy sigh. "Hey jellybean," she almost whispered as she walked up behind Sophia and ruffled her hair. Dove sat there with them for a while, Lori was pretty easy to talk to. She reminded Dove a little bit of Carol in that she could see the other woman was fiercely protective of her son just like Carol was with Sophia. "Shane hear anything?" She squinted her hazel eyes at the older woman who shook her head.

"No, they just keep playing the emergency alert over and over again now. Same one too. No updates or anything," Lori frowned as she leaned up against the car behind her son.

"Is that normal?"

"No it's not," Shane interrupted as he strolled up from the direction of his own car. Dove pursed her lips, any response lost as Shane pulled Lori away from the car. "We'll be back. I just want to go check something out."

Something was wrong. Something was really wrong. Dove's stomach twisted into a knot. She made a split second decision to pull the laces on her boots tighter before jumping off the trunk. "Where are you going now," Carol called after her as Dove started down the highway again. She needed to know what was going on. She had to.

Lori and Shane had disappeared behind the crowd of people that had started to fight on the highway before she even got within eyesight of them. "Hey!" Dove shouted as she came up closer to the fight. She stood up to her full height as she tried to get the attention of the group of men fighting. It happened fast, Dove had taken a step too close to the fight.

Next thing she knew was on the ground, her cheek throbbed where the stray punch had hit her. Dove pulled herself to her feet, a stream of curses ready to come out of her mouth when the bombs dropped. The sky lit up and buildings in the distance started to go down. There was no way this was happening.

A scream cut through the silence on the highway, followed by another. Cars were started up again, more fights were breaking out. Dove turned and started to run back to Carol's car. They had to go and they had to go now.

She caught a glimpse of something in a car she'd passed. The person who'd looked sick was leaned over the person in the driver's seat, their teeth digging into the neck of their partner as blood covered their face. The blood drained from her face and a feeling of intense panic made her blood run ice cold.

The rest of the run back to the car was so fast, she could've sworn she teleported. Lori and Shane were already back trying to wrangle everyone up. "Get in the car, Ed," was the first thing that Dove said as she ran right past the door to the backseat and attempted the trunk closed as Ed was looking through his things. Probably making sure the little boy hadn't taken any of his food.

The anger was evident in his eyes but she was powered by nothing but fear right now and that was a powerful thing. "You trying to tell me what to do, huh?" Ed was too close. She tensed up, ready to throw a punch if she had to when Shane called out over the chaos.

"Just get in the car, man. Shit's going down, bad!" There was something in the other man's voice that actually made the other man listen. He didn't look too happy about it but when a cop sounds scared, it's safe to say you should probably listen.

Dove practically jumped into the backseat and slammed the door behind her. Sophia scooted closer to her in the backseat and wrapped her arms around her aunt. "What's happening?"

Carol glanced back at them, a worried look on her face. Dove started to feel the pain on the side of her face as she stroked Sophia's hair, her hazel eyes locked with Carol's blue ones. "I don't know but don't you worry. You're gonna be just fine."

They'd ended up following Shane, there was no wonder about that in her mind. The line of cars following behind them made her feel a little bit safer too. People made it out but she had a feeling in her gut that there was no way this would be over soon. Life was going to be very different and she hoped she wasn't lying to Sophia when she said she would be fine.

_______

If anyone wants to be added to my taglist, comment or send an ask!

@crossbowking​

[leotssukinaga]

And They Were Pining

Yaku Morisuke x Reader

Anon requested:  can i request something for yaku? fluffy with mutual pining please? Word Count: 1787 A/N: This was the only title I could think of. I’ve been awake way too long. No thoughts head empty just Yaku. I don’t know if he’s in character. I tried

"Hey, Y/N!" You turn to see a certain libero- one you hold very close to your heart- jogging to catch up with you. "Yaku! Hey, what's up?" "Lev ran away again, we're trying to find him.""Oh, have you tried the drama room? Drama club doesn't run on Wednesdays, sometimes he hides there." "I swear you're like a Lev wrangler." You giggle at the suggestion, smiling softly at him. "We missed you at practice yesterday, you know."  You're sort of like the teams unofficial manager, never quite committing to the role but fulfilling the duties nonetheless. "You did?" "Yeah. It's nice having you there- feels weird when you're not." You couldn't hear the words that sat between the ones he uttered, the I like having you around, the when I don't see you I end up thinking about you all day. You had no reason to suspect his affections for you. He was the opposite of subtle, but if you'd ever had an inkling, you'd brushed it aside as wishful thinking, thinking Yaku would never feel that way about you. This could not be further from the truth. "As soon as my physics project is in I'll be back, promise. That's where I'm headed now, my WiFi clapped out so I'm gonna see if I can finish it in the library." "The library WiFi is less likely to be working than yours is." Your laugh sends sparks through his veins, and the walk ends far too soon as you reach the door of the drama room. "I hope you find Lev in there, I'll see you tomorrow? Lunch? Just us?" "I can't wait." He couldn't, he wanted to spend every second he had with you. You pat his shoulder, setting the area on fire, before adjusting the strap on your bag and making your way to the library. He doesn't know why he didn't offer to help you with physics. He seems to forget how to think when you're around. He sighs, wishing he could apply the same confidence he had on the court to asking you out, and pushes the door to the drama room open. Lev yelps in surprise. Busted.

Lunch with Yaku the next day turns, unsurprisingly, into lunch with most of the team, because apparently not one of those boys understands the concept of minding their own business (except for Kenma, he got dragged over by Kuroo.) You don't know whether it's a blessing or a curse, since an hour alone with Yaku would almost certainly mean you'd embarrass yourself in some way- thereby solidifying yourself as nothing but a friend in his mind- but the chaos that follows the others means you don't get as much chance to talk to him, no matter how you both try. Not long after their arrival he leans over to you, intending to get close enough that he can apologise for their behaviour without them hearing, when Lev- doing God knows what- stumbles into him, pushing him forward, directly into you. His mouth that had been close to your ear lands on your cheek in what looks and feels very much like a kiss, and the next second Lev is being kicked. It's hard to tell whether Yaku is pink with anger or embarrassment. It's rather more obvious which one applies to you. The next apology is louder, and he refuses to look at you as he says it. You assume he's embarrassed because he doesn't like you, while every other person with mildly effective eyesight can tell it's because he does.He's still sitting next to you, and while you're doing everything you can not to look at him, he can't take his eyes off of you. There's still a faint dusting of pink across your cheeks, and you're  chewing on your lip like you usually do when you're nervous. He can't keep the smile off of his face as he watches you, and the others really don't know how you haven't noticed his crush on you. He wouldn't know subtlety if it hit him in the face. 

You're back to watching practice on Monday, and it would be difficult to miss the way his face lights up when you walk into the gym. Apparently, it's also hard to miss his face with the volleyball, which Yamamoto discovers moments after you walk in. (It's definitely Yaku's fault, he was utterly distracted by you, but he still yells at the second year.)You're the first person to rush to his side the second he hits the ground, and the only person he listens to when you insist that he come sit down until his nose stops bleeding. You've seen him get hit in the face plenty of times before, but you're still worried, and hold out a hand to help him up. The blood is not the only thing on his face that's red, but the blush doesn’t last long. It turns out in the aftermath nobody noticed that he fell backwards at an odd angle, not even him. That is, until he takes your hand and begins to stand, letting out a yelp as he falls back down. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" "Think I twisted my ankle." "Shit. Hey Kuroo, you're strong, can you help me carry him?" "You don't need to carry me, I'm fine." "You can't stand, Yaku. Do as you're told." He'll never tell you that the tone of voice you use sends a shiver down his spine. Once he's on the bench, he feels a little guilty as you examine his ankle carefully, it really doesn't hurt that bad and you're being so gentle with him that it makes his heart thud. "I think you’ve sprained it. You did fall at a really weird angle. I'm gonna bandage it up just in case, okay?" "I don't nee-" "When are you gonna learn to listen to me?" "That is never gonna happen." The smile you send his way is soft and amused. He could almost forget the pain in his ankle when you look at him like that. Almost. "Ah, that hurt." "Sorry, I'll be a little gentler. How's your nosebleed?" "I think it's stopped." "There's a plus, then. All done." You pat his knee as you stand up, smiling at him. "See, this is why we need you at practice." "And here I thought you just liked having me around." "Well, there's that too."

Two weeks later, you're pulled into an empty classroom on your way to practice. You spin around to see Kuroo taking a seat on the nearest desk. "Kuroo what the fu-" "I have a question for you." "And that requires kidnapping me?" "Relax, whats a little light kidnapping between friends?" "Just ask me your question." "D'you like Yaku?" "Well, he is my best friend." "You know that's not what I mean. When you daydream in class does your mind wander to our darling libero?" "I- that's... why would you? He's- Yaku is my friend! How could you- you're trying to throw me off, aren't you? Maybe you're the one who likes him and you're projecting? Huh?" You don't even give him time to look surprised before you run out of the room. That was potentially the stupidest moment of your life, and your outburst most certainly gave Kuroo the answer he was looking for. You let out a groan as you stopped running, sliding down the nearest wall and placing your head on your knees. It wasn't long before someone sat next to you. "So... how long have you liked him?" "I hate you." "I didn't ask about me." "Last year, I guess." "You ever thought about telling him?" "You ever thought about combing your hair?" "Shut up." He pushes you gently, causing you to laugh. "You should tell him, though." "Yeah, when I'm 93 and about to die."" You're far too stubborn to die that young." "My mom said that to me once." "Tell him." "We're late to practice." You attempt to stand, but he grabs your bag before you can walk away. "I'll let you go if you agree to confess." "I'll consider it. Final offer." "Alright." When Yaku waves at you when you arrive, your cheeks flush more than usual. Maybe telling him wouldn't be so bad, even if he does reject you.

You're walking around campus aimlessly when he finds you, clearly lost in thought about something. "Hey, Y/N." He falls into stride beside you, matching your pace. "Oh, hey Yaku." You don't look at him. You decided 2 weeks ago to confess to him, but every time you try you pussy out. Even looking his way sent you through a haze of anxiety and embarrassment, so you've done your best to avoid him. It hurts both of you. "Is everything okay?" "Of course! Why wouldn't it be?" "I don't know you seem... distant. I miss you." "Things are fine, Yaku." "You're not mad at me?" "I'm not mad at you." You finally steel yourself to look him in the eye, offering him a sweet smile. He really doesn’t look like he believes you. "Have I ever lied to you?" "Well if you have, you're good enough at it that I don’t know... Have you?" "No. Not to you. Although, technically, I have lied about you." "Wait, what? When?" "Uh, Lev asked me a couple weeks ago if I had a crush on anyone. I told him I didn't." You were really about to do this. If only your heart would shut up for 3 seconds. "How does that have anything to do with me?" "Because...it’s you. I have a crush on you, Yaku." He stopped moving, almost stopped breathing. Did you just say- is he dreaming? "Oh Christ, I really shouldn't have said that. I'm just gonna go lie in a river." "Wait." You turn back to face him, chewing your lip anxiously. "I have a crush on you, too." Suddenly, your confidence rushes back and you lean in close to him. "Oh? Then what are you gonna do about it?" He doesn't quite think in the split second between the end of your sentence and his lips meeting yours, doesn't quite register exactly what he's doing. Not until you pull back and rush off like he hadn't just kissed you. "Wait, why are you running? You confess to me, I kiss you, and you run away? That’s not how this works!" Neither of you see two of your friends watching, Kuroo with a delighted smirk and Kenma with his usual bored expression. When the two of you walk into practice the next day, hand in hand, they're the first to cheer. (Kenma's is quiet and sounds disinterested, but you know it’s heartfelt anyway.)

taglist: @tremendousglitterthing​ @svtbitch​ @the-fandom-ness​

[sleepywinchester]

Fool For You Pt. 2 ⏤ Oscar Díaz.

Summary: You are back in your hometown Freeridge to take care of your sister Jasmine and your father after being away for six years. You left Freeridge looking for a better life but in that process you had to let go of someone you loved. But you’re back and things are not the same but they sure feel like it.

Words: 4,038

Warnings: Smut (ish) - Abusive Ex Mentions 

A/N: I usually don’t write smutish fics (honestlyyyy i think i suck) but I TRY. On this part things get heated and you guys can see a bit more of their backstory but there’s still so much more to be revealed. 😈

(english is not my first language, might be some typos around)

❤

The continuous loud hard knocks on the window woke you up. Sitting up from the bed you let a loud groan, glaring at your sister on the other side of the window. 

“Open the door!” Jasmine shouted.

She watched you stand up from the bed. After what happened last night you didn’t want to talk about it because you are still processing it. But you knew Jasmine and she wouldn’t leave you alone until you two talked. Opening the door she barged in, standing in the middle of the room and taking a hit of her inhalator. 

Closing the door you turned to see her in the eye, “¿Que?”

Jasmine’s eyes got wide open, “¡¿Que?! LAST NIGHT I CAUGHT YOU ALMOST BONING SPOOKY AND ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY IS ‘¿QUE?’ BITCH I NEED ALL THE DETAILS. ¿Cuéntamelo todo?”

You rolled your eyes walking by her, “I told you I buried that shit when I left.” Turning on the coffee pot, you turned and she was glaring at you. 

“Well it seems like last night he was going to bury his D!” Jasmine shouted.

“JASMINE!” You shouted with wide eyes. “Gosh,” you leaned against the counter.

“In that spot,” she mocked and you rolled your eyes. “Okay fine, I’m being extra but this shit is huge. Like freaking Spooky and my sister? Bitch! Who knew you had it in you?!”

You cocked an eyebrow, “Had it in me? Bitch! I got needs too.” 

Jasmine busted on laughter, “Yass Queen! I can’t believe you’re actually my sister!”

Shaking your head you turned and began to pour coffee. “Anyways,” you looked at her over your shoulder, “Oscar and I have a lot of history. We have known each other since we were kids. We were together until-,”

“you left his ass and went to New York City,” she cut you off completely bluntly. 

Your head tilted to the left as you shrugged, “Pues si, lo deje. I wanted to leave Freeridge, I wanted so much more than just this hood.”

“And he didn’t?” 

“He did,” you sighed and your head dropped. Thoughts of all that could have been rushed through your mind. You and Oscar often talked about a life together out of Freeridge but there was also one major factor in between. Turning around you met her confused eyes, “He couldn’t leave Cesar alone with his mom. She-.” It was so hard to talk about this because his story and yours reflected. “She was a drug addict.”

Instantly Jasmine’s face transitioned into a sadder one. It wasn’t about gossip anymore, this shit was real and it made her think about mom. 

“I’m sorry,” you sat next to her, placing the coffee mug on the table and holding her hand. “This shit hits hard for us especially with mom…” Jasmine was holding in her tears. You felt guilty for not being here for her, she was the one dealing with mom being everywhere but her home taking care of her kid. “Perdón por no estar para ti cuando mas me necesitaste. I know you said you got it but you shouldn’t, you should be going around with your friends being as crazy and loud as you want.”

“I mean I still did that…” she smiled softly, “I just didn’t want to spoil what you had with Alex in NYC.”

“Boo,” you slightly fixed her hair, “that shit was already spoiled.”

She frowned, “What do you mean?” 

“He hurt me, Jas. In so many ways and the fucked up thing is that I thought it was my fault that I deserved that until one day it got out of control and I said no mas. I remembered who I was and my value.” Your voice broke a little, talking made you think about the awful times. Jasmine holds your hand tightly. Showing you she was there for you. “I was at my lowest point but you called me and…” you smiled, “you saved me, mana.”

“I love you, girl. I’m so sorry,” Jasmine stood up from the seat and hugged you so tightly. Knowing you were unhappy and being mistreated made her mad and sad. But you were safe now and she finally had her sister back.

Hugging her built tears in your eyes, “I love you too.” 

She was on her way out when she turned, “I never told you this because it didn’t really make sense but… Santos helped us so much when mom left. They are scary as hell but they take care of their own.”

Your lips created a small thin smile, “How did they help?” 

“Groceries and utilities, papi’s check doesn’t cover all of it,” she shrugged. “Anyways, I’ll see ya at school, need to prep dad before leaving.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll do it. You get to school,” you told her. She smiled and walked away.

You got dressed quickly, put on a pencil skirt and paired it with a yellow blouse that had small flowers and went into the house. 

“Hola pa’,” you spoke sweetly to your dad sitting on his wheelchair. He wasn’t the same man after being deployed in Afghanistan.  Before the war he was the most optimistic man you ever met. He would always have the biggest grin on his face. “¿Te acuerdas cuando me ayudabas con las tareas?” You spoke as you got him ready for his day. “Those were the days and I did not even know it,” you continued. “I miss those days.”

You looked down at him, his eyesight was lost in the background, oblivious of what was happening. A part of you envied that, being able just to be numb to everything happening around. 

“Jasmine?” You heard a thick Mexican accent walking inside the house. 

“Hola,” you said cheerfully walking out of the bedroom to see Milagros, the woman who used to babysit you so many times as a kid was the same person who took care of your dad.

It took her a couple a seconds to recognize the little girl that had transformed into a woman. Milagros eyes sparkled when she placed the dots together. Instantly she flashed a big grin as she walked forward and wrapped you in her arms.

“¡Muchacha!” she exclaimed, “It’s been so long.”

The way she was reacting to you being home made you grin widely. Hugging her back brought memories of when she would pick you and your sister from school and babysit. Every time your mother would go away, Milagros would always be there for your family. She filled the void of not having a mother at all times. 

“Estas igualita,” you grinned. 

She grinned so much her eyes were difficult to find. Cupping your cheeks with her hands she placed a kiss on your forehead. “Estas hermosisima, mija.”

You shook your head, “Not as beautiful as you.”

Milagros laughed and gave you another kiss, “¿Cuando volviste chamaca?”

“Hace tres días,” you told her, “volví y I’m already working at the school teaching.”

“Siempre quisiste ser una teacher,” she grinned, “me da mucha alegría que estés de vuelta. We missed you so much.”

You kissed her forehead, “I missed you too. Take care of my pa’ por favor.”

“Pos claro,” she said glancing at your dad, “I have a full day planned.”

You chuckled and grabbed your bag saying goodbye at the same time you strolled out of the house. Couple of kids rode their bicycles by your house, all of them laughing. 

As you walked down the street the events of last night appeared in your mind. The thought  of that prophet trying to do something made you so nervous. But instead of drowning in your own thoughts, you decided to raise your chin and focus on other things. This was Freeridge and shit like that happened all the time. 

Looking around you noticed a Santo sitting by his porch, he looked at you as he took a drag of his cigarette. Changing your eyesight to another house, another Santo catches your eye. Soon enough you noticed a good amount of Santos outside which was really rare at that time in the morning. 

The sound of a car made your head turn, another Santo. 

“Oscar…” you said under your breath continuing the path to school. 

You had no time left to go and talk to him but it was definitely in your to do list. He had almost the entire Santo gang on subtle escort duty, all of them around the neighborhood from your house to the school.  

That day you saw Cesar and his friends at school talking and mostly scheming, they seemed troubled about something. 

Is he in the gang too? You asked yourself.

That wouldn’t be a surprise if he was a Santo, it was his family’s legacy to be part of that gang. Learning from the past events you left right at four after the bell rings.  Once again a couple Santos were spread around the block. You smirked, shaking your head as you strolled. You wanted to be upset and even mad at him for taking what happened that night to the extreme but there was no way you could be mad at him for making sure you got home safe.  

You thought that after a couple days the subtle escorts would stop but they never did. Couple weeks passed and The Santos were like clock work, always out and watching. Oscar hasn’t been seen around that much, it’s like after that night he got into a business or something. You’d lie if you say you didn’t want to see him because you did but your pride got the best of you and pulled you away from walking by his house and looking for him yourself. 

When the colmado came to sight the thought of a couple things crossed your mind and you went with it. Going in Selena Quintanilla sounded on the speakers, the viejita was dancing to the cumbia behind the counter as she restocked the cigarettes. She looked at you and engaged you to dance with her. Shaking your head you said no but gifted her a smile. 

“Vamos, vamos,” she walked out of the back, continuing to dance. 

You chuckled and slowly following her moves, somewhere else this would be such an unusual thing. In this hood even though everyone was going through their own bullshit, they still put it aside to laugh and have fun. 

Bidi Bidi Bom Bom rhythm was so contagious that La Abuelita did the infamous washing machine dance.  “Come on, mija!” Her smile brought light to the store. You couldn’t leave her hanging and started to do the dance yourself. Dancing to this song brought you memories of your mother teaching these moves to you and Jasmine. You moved your hips in circular motions to the rhythm of the song.

“Se emociona, ya no razona, no lo puedo controlar,” you sang with her. 

You haven’t been or felt this carefree in years, this moment filled you with joy. 

“Bidi bidi bom bom,” she sang, “mijo baila con ella!” 

Turning to see who she was talking to, your sight locked with Oscar’s brown sparkling eyes. You slowly stopped dancing, his grin didn’t show any of his white pearls but his eyes were so bright. 

“Hey,” you fixed your hair, catching your breath. 

“Muy bonita. ¿Que no, Spooky?” La viejita told him.

Oscar looked you up and down, nodding to the lady. “She is.”

She softly patted your hands a couple times, “I haven’t had that much fun in a while. Thank you, mija.”

You chuckled, “Neither have I.” 

“Spooky?” She said his name walking by him, “She knows how to dance and she’s not wearing a ring. Ándale,” Her whisper was everything but a whisper which you thought was hilarious. The old lady patted his arm softly as she continued to the back of the store. 

The two laughed at what she told Oscar. He had both hands inside his pockets as he reached closer to you. Seeing him made you realize you actually missed him after not bumping into him for weeks.

“What up?” He looked you in the eye.  

You shrugged, grabbing a basket, “Nothing much. You?”

“Igual,” he also took a basket.

Oscar and you walked side by side around the corner store both picking similar items. This would be a perfect moment to ask him about the cholo security you felt you had as you walked on the block but you didn’t want to ruin what was going on. 

“You still got moves,” he said as he got a corona from the fridge. He glanced at you, asking if you wanted one with his eyes. You nodded and he grabbed it and placed it on your basket. “La batidora siempre me volvió loco.”

You chuckled, “Everything makes you crazy, Oscar.” 

Oscar smirked at your words, he grabbed a handful of limes that were right next to you. Pouring a couple of those limes in your basket as well. His chest was pressed against you, “Everything you do makes me crazy.” His whisper turned on all your senses throughout your body. 

You grabbed hot sauce, looking back at him to see if he wanted any. Understanding his small nod you grabbed a second one and handled it to him. 

“Any plans tonight?” He asked, grabbing nopales and placing them inside his basket. You grabbed the sweet potatoes next to them and added them to your haul. 

“Aside from grading quizzes and maybe unpacking,” you turned to him, “nada.”

“You still got all those boxes laying around?” You shrugged guilty of being a procrastinator. The click of his tongue was followed by a soft chuckle. “Wanna go to a party?”

You cocked an eyebrow, “Santos party?” He nodded. “I don’t know... Don’t wanna get behind on grading those quizzes.”

“It’s all good,” he told you. Deep down he knew you weren’t the biggest fan of being around his gang and he didn’t judge for that. 

The two paid and walked out of the corner store, you were holding your bags with both hands. The sunset was in full effect, pastels of pink and blue painting the sky. Oscar gazed at you as your eyes were lost in the beauty of the colors. 

Licking your bottom lip, your eyes met with his. “Thanks for the protection.”

He looked away flashing a grin, “You noticed…”

“Your crew is really hard to miss,” you smiled. “Thank you.”

Oscar shrugged, “Just making sure you’re safe.”

Without asking for consent, you tiptoed your way to his cheek and placed a kiss on it. “I know,” you said, turning around and walking away. You looked over your shoulder when you felt his eyes on you. “Te veo, fool.”

“Nos vemos, fool,” he said watching you walk.

The corner store was a couple houses away from your place. You couldn’t see it but Oscar put his bags inside the car and leaned against the hood of his car. Lighting a cigarette he watched you stroll to your house and got in safely. 

/ / / 

Your skin felt refreshed after taking a shower and washing your hair. Only wearing a towel wrapped around your body, you began to look for something to wear.

“Where are my freaking t-shirts?” you roamed around the boxes on the floor. 

There were too many unopened boxes to find the one that had your sleeping t-shirts in them. Meanwhile the ones that were open had everything but you work blouses. The Harley Davison’s ones you’ve been using have become dirty. Your eyes roamed around the floor and found Oscar’s black flannel lying by one of the boxes. You sighed walking towards it and picking it from the floor. Your finger tips instantly feeling the softness of the material. Taking a quick sniff you noticed Oscar’s scent on it and better yet, it wasn’t dirty.

“What the hell,” you shrugged, putting it on. 

You could smell him on the shirt, God how much you loved his scent. Wearing his shirt made you feel close to him even though he wasn’t there with you.

Grabbing a Corona from your fridge, you took a sip from it and began to unpack. You’ve been procrastinating about it for almost weeks now but tonight was the night all of these boxes were going to be empty.

You were drinking the last of your beer when the knock on the door made you look over your shoulder and pause on the sixth box. ‘It’s probably Jasmine’ you thought, not worrying to stand up.

“It’s open, Jas!” You shouted, turning your focus back to the box of old pictures. 

“Not Jasmine,” Oscar's deep voice filled the room.

Looking over your shoulder, you saw him standing by your door with one 40’s on both hands. You stood up quickly noticing how Oscar fully scanned your body. Seeing you wearing his shirt turned him on. How the shirt covered enough to see most of your thighs and legs. It helped that you didn’t buttoned the flannel all the way through, giving him a good sight of your cleavage. He couldn’t help but roam his eyes, admiring every inch of you. 

Oscar cleared his throat, licking his lips before speaking. “You said you were going to be here unpacking and grading papers…” He paused, his eyes were lost on you. “Uh-,” he shook his head, “I just wanted to pass by and maybe help.”

Your eyebrows rose, “You want to help me unpack?”

“Yep,” he spat. 

“Don’t you have a party going on?”

He shrugged with no worry, “Me vale. I can go if you want.”

You shook your head obviously not wanting him to leave, slowly licking your lower lip as you walked towards him. He took a deep breath once you were in front of him. You smirked, grabbing one of the 40’s, “You can stay and help. I’m actually opening the old picture box.”

He watched you turn and sit on the middle of your bed. Oscar having a seat by the edge of it. You handled him your beer for him to open and watched him twist open his.

“I was wondering where my flannel ended up,” he teased, grabbing the box next to him and opening it. 

“I actually didn’t see it until today. Needed clean clothes and,” you looked down at the flannel, “this was clean enough.”

Oscar chuckled softly as he started to take out old photo albums. 

“I can give it back if you want…” you teased.

He glanced at you over his shoulder, “Keep it, te queda mejor a ti.” 

You smiled at his response, looking down to the photos laying in your lap. There were a couple of you with baby Jasmine in her crib. Your abuelita always got you guys the biggest and colorful bows.

Oscar looked back at the album on his hand, brushing through the pages he found an old picture of the two of you in High School. “Mira,” he said.

You got slightly up and looked over his shoulder. Oscar clenched his jaw and his breathing began to get heavy as he felt you so close to him.

Flashing a grin you chuckled looking at your younger self sitting on his lap both with big wide smiles. “This was the first day we missed school to go to the beach.”

Oscar nodded with a small smile, “Si.”

“Todo era mas fácil,” you let out a sigh.

Looking at him, Oscar continued to look at the picture with nostalgia. You wished to be able to listen to his thoughts. Once again you were unsure if you should do what you felt. Kneeling next to him, you rested your chin on top of his shoulder. 

“You remember what happened that day?” you said softly. 

Oscar looked over his shoulder locking his brown eyes with yours. “Como olvidarlo.” 

You smirked, “We didn’t know what the fuck we were doing.”

He clicked his tongue, “We still enjoyed it though.”

“Hell yes,” out of habit your lips touched his skin for a second before placing your chin back on his shoulder glancing down to the picture. 

Oscar froze, his sight going down to your lips as he licked his and looked up back to your eyes. Being that close to each other was the only approval both needed to do what both were craving. He pressed his lips with yours, his right hand grabbing the back of your neck as he kissed you with passion. Your body followed your instincts and got on top of him. His fingers roamed inside your hair as his lips moved in sync with yours. 

The taste of his tongue is warm and lemon from the beer. He moaned when you bit his lower lip, listening to his moan turn you on even more. Your hands were holding the back of his neck. You could feel his hardness between your legs as you slowly moved your hips. 

His hands went under the flannel shirt you were wearing, gripping on your thighs and his fingertips finally finding the thin waistband of your panties. You stood up for a second, eyes locked with his as he slid them off your body. 

You wanted to tease him, you wanted him to build up the level of him wanting you. Slowly you began to undo your buttons, Oscar growing impatient. 

“Don’t tease, mami,” his voice was so deep and his accent so thick it made your skin tingle. He reached a hand over to you but you stood back, clicking your tongue as you moved your index finger left and right. 

“Paciencia, Oscar,” you said softly. 

Oscar smirked looking down at his lap before looking up to watch flannel drop to the floor, his hand reaching your nalgas and gripping tightly, pulling you forward. Looking down to your hip, he realized the black ink still on it. “Todavía lo tienes?” Oscar’s eyes linked with yours.

You looked down to the small cross tattoo on your hip. Turning so slightly you gave him a better look of it. Oscar’s hand touched it, reminiscing of when you first got it. That night was one neither was able to erase. 

“Damn,” he caressed it, “that was the night we-,”

You cut his words with another passionate kiss. He ignored his thoughts or what he wanted to say and continued tasting your lips. Oscar turned you over, laying you flat on the bed. You looked down at him, biting your lower lip watching him take his clothes off. His strong arms flexed as he crawled on top of you leaving trails of kisses all over your body, moans escaping with every kiss he left. Your lower back arched while your eyes shut to the sensation.

“Mírame,” he said, kissing right under your belly button. 

Biting your lip, your eyes locked with his, “I-,” you moaned when his hands cupped your breast. 

“Use your words, mi amor,” he said against your delicate skin. 

His tongue danced in a way only Oscar fucking Diaz could make it dance. He knew all your spots and how to work them. Your hands gripped the sheets of your bed tightly as you bit your lips holding the loud moans that wanted to escape your inside. 

“I can feel you holding your moans out,” Oscar told you, his look full of lust and hunger for you. “Let it out, bebe. Let it all out.”

“Fuck!” you let out a loud moan as he continued to eat you. In a matter of seconds he built you up back again. With every second, you could reach the stars more and more, until there was a full explosion. “Oscar!”

He kissed his way up to your lips, “Así me gusta.” 

“Me llevaste a las estrellas,” you kissed him. 

“Si?” He arched an eyebrow, his hand on your hip. Oscar kissed first kissed your chest, then kissed the left side of your collar bone. He left a trail of wet kisses all the way up your neck. He kissed your earlobe, you could hear his steady breathing. 

“Tonight I’ll take you to the whole damn galaxy,” he whispered in your ear.

______________________________________________________________

CHAPTER TRES

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[plaidbooks]

Everyone Deserves Love chapter 8

A/N: This starts with a little bit of fluffy cuteness, but don’t let that fool you! Jenkins coming in hot, and then it switches to angst. And it stays angst. So heads up, it’s gonna be angst for a bit haha.

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Tags: none, outside of feelings, oh, I guess minor character death that was mentioned in one line

Words: 6k+

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba (lemme know if you want to be tagged!)

Apartment of Rafael Barba

Saturday, May 2nd. 5:00am

Devon woke up at 5am sharp, as usual, even after being up over 24 hours the day before. She uncurled on the couch, stretching while standing, then went through her morning routine: exercise, shower, dress. She tried to be as quiet as possible, since Barba was still asleep, and she planned to let him sleep in a little, their deal from the previous night. Normally on weekends, he would stumble out of his room around 8am. Glancing at the clock, it was still early; only 6:30. Devon planned on making coffee to go with the breakfast, so she decided that 8am would be the safest time to start it. Until then, though, she’d work on the abandoned report from last night, while trying to ignore the thoughts that had stopped that report. Having those types of thoughts helped no one and was wildly unprofessional. So, she shoved her feelings away, focusing on the events from the past two days instead.

Time flew by and 8am came faster than she thought it would, with no signs of life from Barba’s room. She still got up from the couch, report done, and started the French press. While waiting for the water to heat up, she went to the FBI database, trying to check on the last 12 Aces in the city. She looked up from her laptop when she heard Barba’s door open; she didn’t even hear him shower, yet his hair was still damp from the spray. He was in nice slacks and a plain polo shirt; his “casual” attire, unlike his “weekend” suits. It was always a little treat seeing someone who was normally in expensive suits dressing in something…not as expensive. Casual. He still looked damn good, though.

“Good morning,” Devon chirped, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “Coffee?”

“Please,” he grumbled. Even when he slept in, Rafael Barba was not a morning person. Devon grinned, pouring him a cup, and adding the appropriate amount of sugar that she knew he liked. She noticed, somewhere deep down, that she liked their almost…domestic tendencies. It made sense, with how much time they spent together, but it was still nice to have these little shared things. It was like his home was hers’, too. Which was comforting. And absolutely terrifying.

“Here you go,” she said, passing him the hot liquid.  He gratefully took a deep pull, letting the caffeine waken him. He went to the fridge, pulling out an assortment of vegetables and a carton of eggs. He set about making breakfast, an omelet with sautéed vegies; Devon hovered in the kitchen, but her attention was on her laptop, still researching.

“So, what time were you up today?” Barba asked casually.

“Uh, 5am?” Devon replied.

Barba shot her a look. “I thought we agreed to sleep in today. Why were you up so early?”

“I—I’m always up at 5. I have an internal clock, wakes me up,” she explained.

“Everyday?”

“Correction, almost always. Sometimes I’m up at 4.”

Barba looked shocked first, then concerned. “We go to bed so late; why the hell do you wake up so early? And how the hell are you so perky in the morning?”

Devon thought about it. “I’ve been waking up before the sun for a while, now, couple years, actually. Guess it’s just habit.” She gave him a playful smile. “The perkiness is all me, baby.”

Barba ignored the joke, all serious. “Years? That cannot be healthy. Have you talked to anyone about this?”

Devon took a sip of coffee, swirled it in her mouth before swallowing. “After doing a UC, it’s mandatory to talk to a therapist. So yes, I did ‘talk to someone’ about it…. Especially because it seemed to start a week into that assignment.” Barba flipped the omelet he was making. It looked like he was going to question further, so Devon cut him off. “Yes, both my therapist and I believe that it’s from stress. I—I think I’m just…” she took a deep breath; saying it out loud was acknowledging it. But it was also good to get it out of her mind. “I’m just afraid; my brain needs to be on alert at all times. I know it sounds silly, but people like you—victims--deserve to have 24/7 protection, but I can only give you 20 at most. I’m a light sleeper; anyone breaking in and I’ll hear it. But I don’t think that’s really good enough; it leaves at least 4 hours where you’re open, exposed, especially with the fire escape in your room.” Barba took the omelet out of the pan, placing it skillfully on a plate, and passing it to Devon. She took it gratefully, blowing on it before taking a bite. It was delicious. Is there anything he can’t do?

Barba sighed as he went back to the pan, starting on his own food. “Devon, I know that no one wants to hear it, but you are human. No one, including you, can stay awake and alert 24/7. Hell, even 20/7 is insane. I’m glad that this whole mess is almost over.” He flinched inwardly as soon as the words left his mouth. And the look on Devon’s face was a punch to the gut; it was only there for a split second before she went back to a neutral expression. But he felt it, too; as much as he would like life to go back to normal, he really didn’t want to lose her, lose this. Not yet.

“It will be nice to sleep in my own bed again,” Devon joked, though her voice fell a little flat. She knew that it was inevitable; she’d have to leave him eventually, go on with her work and life. But she really, really, didn’t want to think about that. She was disappointed that he was already there in his thoughts, that he was wishing for it.

Barba finished cooking his own food, standing at the counter next to Devon. They ate in relative silence, besides complimenting each other on the food and coffee, and idly talking about heading to the park afterwards.

“Oh shit, I need to call Liv,” Devon said, pulling her phone out of her pocket. Olivia picked up on the second ring.

“Hey Dev, everything alright?” she asked.

Devon chuckled, shaking her head. “Of course. Just wanted to let you know that Barba and I were going to Central Park for a little. Get some fresh air after the mess from the past couple days.”

“Are you sure that’s wise? You don’t think that you’ll be sitting ducks?”

“There’s only 12 Aces left, and I think after what happened with Marco, we should be good.” Devon waited a moment before adding on, “I’ll be armed, we’ll be safe.”

Liv sighed. “For one thing, I forgot to text you last night; we caught 5 more Aces in a raid last night. So now the magic number is 7. And second, I’ll station some extra unis in the park, just to be sure. The remaining members may be getting desperate, since there’s not many left.”

“That’s good to know. I’ll let Barba know, and I’ll keep my eyes open,” Devon replied. She hung up, then, and relayed the information to Barba.

“Hm, SVU must be busy; Liv doesn’t normally forget to inform us like that,” he said.

Devon agreed. “We can always stop by later today, see what’s up.” Barba nodded.

They finished their food quickly, suddenly eager to get out into fresh air. Barba’s loft was only two blocks from Central Park, so it was a short walk there, but before they even hit the park, they were already more relaxed, basking in the warm, sunny day. There’s something about getting out of the house, even for a simple walk, that was refreshing. It seemed like the tension, the heaviness, from the last two days lifted, and they joked and laughed, conversation flowing easily. They made it to a trail that went by the water, and just enjoyed each other’s presence. They talked about nothing, really, just idle small talk.  Devon did surreptitiously watch every person within eyesight; she saw at least 6 cops the first ten minutes there, two on bikes and the rest on foot. But no one looked suspicious, only suburban moms with their strollers, joggers, couples walking through the park. They wandered the trail for about an hour, slowly getting closer together, though neither of them noticed. It wasn’t until Devon’s hand brushed against his that they realized how close they were. They stopped walking, half turning to each other, Devon’s cheeks flushing, an apology on her tongue. Barba opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by a woman screaming.

Devon was a flurry of movement, embarrassment from the simple touch forgotten. Her first instinct was to shove Barba behind her, turning towards the noise. It took a moment for the woman’s words to process in her adrenaline-clogged brain.

“Help! He stole my purse!” she yelled, pointing. A man dressed like a burglar from a shitty movie, complete with loose jeans, a black hoodie with the hood pulled up, and dark sunglasses, was running on the path that Devon and Barba were currently on, a tan purse clutched in his hand. As the man tried to push passed them, Barba stuck out his leg. The man got caught on his foot and went down, slamming into the ground, glasses flying off his face.

“Great reflexes,” Devon said, jokingly, giving him a half-grin. She knelt down, grabbing his hands and pulling them behind his back. “Senior Special Agent Motely, FBI,” she informed the man. She grabbed the purse from his clutches and handed it to Barba.

“Did you doubt me?” Barba smirked back. He took the purse, looking towards the woman who had alerted them. She was on her way over, as well as the two bike cops. Barba handed over the purse, and Devon let the unis cuff the man. Devon noticed Barba’s hands were shaking; he must still be feeling anxious from the past couple days for this small action to affect him so.

“Come on,” Devon said, giving him a soft smile. She took Barba’s shaking hand, ignoring the jolt of electricity she felt from touching his burning skin, and led him away from the scene at a slow jog. She was hoping that a short jog would burn off the extra energy coursing through both of their veins. She led him out of the park and towards a small café across the street; one of her favorite spots.

“That was…surprisingly fun,” Barba chuckled, trying to catch his breath. Devon laughed with him; at least he had stopped shaking.

“Oh no, please stay as a lawyer. Don’t switch to cop,” Devon replied, feigning concern at his life choices.

“Why not? Afraid that I’d take your job?”

“No, but I think the power would go to your already inflated head.”

Barba scoffed as if offended. “Don’t lie; I’d outrank you in a week.”

“And there’s that ego I mentioned.” They chuckled, before a waitress came out to them. They both ordered a coffee—Devon got a pastry, too--and resigned to people watching while they waited for her to come back.

“To be honest, though, I am glad that we were able to help that woman out,” Devon said.

Barba agreed. “We got lucky that he ran towards the two people in the park that could help her.”

“That’s a little rude to the cops working in the park.”

Barba smirked. “But am I wrong?”

“Not at all,” she replied. Their coffee and food came just then, and they sat in silence, drinking and sharing the pastry. Devon broke the silence. “Today’s been really fun. I’m glad we decided to do this.”

“Me too. It’s nice getting out of the loft every now and again. To not worry about cases, files, rapes, murders, and traffickers.”

Devon nodded. “It does get…taxing, after a while. You have to find a balance in this line of work. It’s not always enough to just go home at the end of the day.”

Barba thought about what he wanted to say, how he wanted to say it. “I—I couldn’t imagine doing what you do. At least I get to go home at the end of the day. You just finished a three-year undercover op before this; you didn’t even get to go home. You didn’t get to talk to friends, hell you didn’t even have your own name. That sounds like a type of torture. And now, you still don’t get to go home.”

“At least I have some good company,” she smiled at him. She took a small bite of her pastry, then continued, “sometimes, it feels like torture. But you have to get so into your character, your fabricated life. You have to be invested in your fake job, fake friends, fake relationships. Sometimes, none of those things feel fake anymore. It’s just life…. I’ve learned that you need to have something, anything, that can pull you back to your real life.”

“What…what did you have?”

Devon’s cheeks turned red, though she tried to hide it by drinking her coffee. “You, uh, you got to promise me you will not tell a soul,” she said after putting her coffee down. She locked eyes with him. “I’m serious; no one must know of this, especially Olivia.”

Barba kept his face neutral, trying not to smile at how flustered Devon got, how cute she was when her face got all red like that. Was it really that bad? “Okay, I promise.”

Devon took a deep breath, let it out. Then she reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone. She popped the case off, pulling something out. In her hand was a small square of what looked like folded paper. She went about unfolding it, and Barba realized it wasn’t a piece of paper, but a photo. It was so worn, so creased, that it was obvious how often she had needed to look at it during her time undercover. Once unfolded, she handed it to Barba, looking away sheepishly, sipping at her coffee.

The picture was faded, even though it was timestamped as only four years ago. It was a snapshot of what looked like a fun night in a dark bar. Devon was on the left, wearing a plastic top hat that read “Happy New Year’s! 2010” and with a drink in hand. She looked like she was laughing in the picture. Hanging on her, arm wrapped around the people on either side of her, was Olivia. It looked like she was trying to have them hold her up, but her face showed that it wasn’t happening. The photographer must have gotten her mid-fall—her mouth was open in a comical “O” shape. Barba only knew the man on the right because Olivia had showed her pictures before; his name was Elliot Stabler, Liv’s old partner. He wore a hat matching Devon’s, and it looked like Olivia was taking him down with her. His mouth was open in surprise, though a smile tugged at the corners. It was a great picture of three friends enjoying the start of the new year. Barba hated that he felt a pang of loneliness and jealousy looking at it. He looked up from the picture to find Devon watching him, cheeks still red.

“That was the first time since my childhood that I had celebrated my birthday; that I even had friends to celebrate with,” Devon explained, taking the photo back and gazing at it lovingly.

“Your birthday is New Year’s Eve?”

“Day, actually,” she corrected. She took one last look, then folded it up, stuffing it back into the phone case, popping it back on and replacing it in her pocket.

Barba wasn’t quite sure what to say. He was glad she had people to celebrate with, but also felt sad that it took her so long to find that kind of acceptance in her life. “Thank you for sharing that with me,” he said softly. There was nothing else to say. He was touched that she had opened up to him, had shown him something so personal.

Like in the park, they were both so enraptured in their thoughts that they stopped paying attention to their surroundings, especially their body language. They both had the same, stupid grin on their faces, as they stared into each other’s eyes. Barba had his hand on the table between them, and Devon didn’t even realize that she had placed hers on top of it. They were slowly leaning closer to each other, lost in the depths of their eyes, the closeness that they felt. Thinking about how today was a perfect date, yet neither would admit to the other that it even was one; it was just a walk in the park between friends. Sharing an intimate secret between friends. Holding hands, sharing a pastry, leaning closer, heads tilting, eyes closing…as friends….

Devon’s phone started ringing loudly, and they both jumped back, ripping their hands off the table. Devon fished her phone back out of her pocket, heart beating wildly. What just happened?

Barba looked flushed and a little…disappointed, grabbing his coffee and taking a sip, adverting his eyes. Devon looked at her phone screen, seeing her boss’s name lighting up across it.

“Uh oh…” she mumbled before answering. “Motely.”

“Is there a reason that NYPD’s Internal Affairs just handed me a file on you shooting a man two days ago?” Jenkins asked. He wasn’t angry; he just sounded tired.

Shit. “Oh, I meant to call you about that, sir,” Devon replied, heart still pounding. Her mind was going a mile a minute, stuck between thoughts of shooting Marco, IAB, and almost, maybe, about to kiss a certain counselor who was still avoiding her eyes. “You see, it’s a long story….”

“Well, you’d better come in and explain it to me, then.”

Devon looked to Barba, sipping innocently at his coffee. How much coffee does he still have? “Uh, permission to bring a civilian?” He finally looked at her at that, brow furrowed.

Jenkins sighed; he knew better than to ask questions. “Granted. Get here. Now.” And with that, he hung up.

Devon slowly put her phone down. She looked deeply into Barba’s green eyes. “Ever wanted to go to the FBI Headquarters?”

FBI Headquarters

Saturday, May 2nd. 12:37pm

Devon led Barba into the elevator leading to her boss’s office, his visitor badge bouncing off his chest.

“This is not what I had planned today when we agreed on a day off,” he mumbled, the doors closing behind them. Devon smirked.

“Sorry about this. I could’ve left you with a detective, if you really wanted. Or you can go back to the lobby; one of the field agents can watch you.”

Barba scoffed. “I’m not a child for you to pass around.”

“Then stop complaining like one,” she replied. He glared at her, and she stuck her tongue out in response. The elevator doors dinged and opened, and Devon led him down the long hallway to Jenkins’s office.

“Come in,” he said before she even had a chance to knock. Barba gave her a look, eyebrows raised. She shrugged in a yeah, that’s normal way, then opened the door for him, following him in. Jenkins kept his office space neat, tidy; a desk with two monitors, a couple of full bookshelves, and a small conference table in the corner. Although he was the Assistant Director, in charge of multiple sectors of field agents, he still didn’t spend much time in his office, usually only resigning to the space at night or on weekends to do paperwork. Much like Olivia, he worked his way up from field agent, and his heart and mind were still out in the field. He had trouble sitting still for too long, and was often out of the office, running teams or even in the field himself as much as possible. Which was why everyone respected him, whether they liked him or not.

“Counselor,” Jenkins said in his deep voice, nodding to Barba, before turning back to Devon. “Motely, report.”

Devon took a deep breath, then filled him in on everything that had happened since the end of January, starting from the night she met Barba, to talking to Olivia, to accepting the 24/7 protection of the ADA. “I honestly didn’t think it would be this…extensive,” Devon finished, lacking a better word. It was true, though; she knew what 24/7 protection was like, but she had only ever done it for a weekend at most. Never for months at a time. And though she knew that there was the chance of it lasting longer than she thought, it was different talking about it and actually doing it.

“So, this shooting of Marco Sorrel was in defense of Mr. Barba here,” Jenkins replied, looking at the case file from IAB.

“Yes sir.”

“And this protection order is still in effect? That’s why you brought him here, I take it?”

“Yes sir.” Devon felt Barba tense next to her; she had almost forgot he was there. He had said nothing since coming into the office. He knew when to bite his tongue.

“For how much longer? I need my top agent back to work.”

That knocked the wind out of Devon’s sails. It was the confirmation that after this was over, she would be going right back to work for the FBI. She wasn’t surprised, but it did solidify her resolve; she could not have a relationship with Barba, regardless of their feelings. She basically already told him as much that one day they talked a little too loosely about relationships.

“To my knowledge, there’s only 7 more Aces active in the city. Once they’re arrested, and the hit on Barba is off, I’ll be cleared for work again, sir,” Devon informed him.

Jenkins smirked. “Only 7? Tell that SVU Sergeant that I’ll make sure it’s taken care of before the weekend is over. I want to see you here, bright and early, on Monday morning; there’s a sex-trafficking ring I need you in on.”

Devon felt her stomach drop, her world crumbling. But she kept her face neutral, her voice steady. “Y-yes sir,” she said. Hearing the dismissal in his voice, she turned, Barba following suit, and left the office.

Apartment of Rafael Barba

Saturday, May 2nd. 3:05pm

“So, are we going to talk about it?” Barba finally asked from the kitchen. They both had been silent leaving the Bureau, and even more distant on the ride back to Barba’s loft. They tried small talk, but it sizzled out after a couple words. They both resigned to doing their own thing; Devon researching on her laptop, Barba doing the dishes from breakfast.

“Talk about what?” Devon replied, but she knew. Of course, she did. But she wanted to hear him say it.

Barba sighed, turning off the water. He placed the last pan on the drying rack, drying his hands off before coming to stand in the doorway. “Let’s be adults about this. Please. You know what,” when Devon stayed silent, Barba continued, “about what happened, well, what almost happened at the café. About the fact that you’re going to be leaving soon. About…about where that leaves us.”

Devon’s heart fluttered when he said “us.” God, she wanted there to be an “us” so damn badly. But she couldn’t force herself to take that leap, to fully commit to him. How could she, when both of their schedules were so busy, so crazy? Jenkins said it himself; she was about to go right back into the field. She could be gone for months, years at a time. She could be hurt or worse. How could she possibly hurt Barba like that, put him through that?

“The café was a mistake,” she said as flatly as she could. She stared at his chest, not able to make eye contact with him. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea, Rafael, but there isn’t an ‘us.’ This is a job, and once it’s over, I’m back to working with the Bureau.” Devon was glad that there were no tears in her eyes; her years of training, of becoming personas were coming in handy, even if her own heart was breaking at her words. She dared a glance into Barba’s face.

He was crestfallen, his face falling. He had been sure, was positive, that she had felt the same way about him. Especially when they brushed hands in the park, when they almost kissed in the café. It took him weeks and weeks to build up the courage to make a move, and when her hand had enveloped his at that table, he knew that that was his moment. Then that damned phone call happened. And then, that damned meeting with her boss! And now she was going to leave him, by tomorrow if her boss was correct. That’s why he had to tell her, he had to know if she had felt the same.

“I thought you said that we were friends. That you cared about me,” he said softly. God, he sounded desperate, pathetic, even to himself.

Devon’s eyes softened, if only for a moment. “You are, and I do. But Barbs, we can’t be any more than that. You know that, right?” Her resolve was shaking under his intense stare. She could see him caving in on himself, his shoulders slumping slightly, his head falling, knees bending. His whole body language just screamed defeated. And she was the one delivering the blows.

He took a deep breath, stiffening his spine, raising his head; the prosecutor heading into a losing battle. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be putting you in this kind of situation. Forget I mentioned it.” With that, he made his way down the hallway and into his room, closing his door softly behind him. Devon opened her mouth but couldn’t think of anything to say.

Great, she thought. There goes that friendship. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing, though; it made things a little less awkward. And it made her leaving easier. Plus, it’d be just like one of her many one-night stands anyways. No attachments: just cut all ties when she left. And leave the broken pieces of her heart behind.

As if the timing couldn’t be more perfect, Devon got an incoming call, from Olivia.

“Motely,” she answered, trying to sound professional.

“Devon! Great news: all the Aces have been rounded up and delivered to the NYPD. Did you call in the Feds to help?” Olivia asked.

Devon smiled grimly. “No, but my boss did offer his assistance after getting IAB’s report.”

“Well, he certainly assisted. Also, I just got a report that said that an hour ago, the Aces in Rikers got in a fight with the 32nd street gang in the prison courtyard. Jorge Ramirez was killed in the scuffle,” Olivia paused, letting her words sink in. “To our knowledge, the hit on Barba has been called off; you can go home, now.”

Devon sat in silence, trying to figure out what the hell the bombardment of emotions she felt was; it was all too much, too quickly. “Devon? You there?” she heard Liv say.

“Yeah, yeah sorry, I’m here. That’s…that’s great news, Liv. I’ll be sure to tell Barbs; I’m sure he’ll be relieved.”

They talked for a few more minutes before Devon made an excuse to hang up, citing the fact that she needed to pack and go grocery shopping before heading home. She sighed heavily, rubbing her hands over her face, but she stood and started collecting her small number of possessions.

“It’s done, isn’t it?” a voice came from down the hallway. Devon stopped, but didn’t turn to look.

“Yes; all the Aces have been arrested. Plus, Ramirez was shanked in a prison fight, so the hit’s been called off,” she turned to look at the man now, “congratulations, Barbs. You’re no longer a marked man.”

The door to his bedroom was wide open and Barba was leaning casually against the doorframe. Well, as casually as he could; his body was tight with tension, as much as he tried to hide it, and if Devon looked closely, she could see a small red ring around his eyes. He gave a stiff nod, peeling himself off the doorframe and coming out into the living room. Devon finished packing her things, zipping up her grip and slinging it over her shoulder. She felt a slew of emotions run through her; she needed to get out of there, but she was rooted to the spot.

“When will I see you again?” Barba murmured. It was barely a whisper, so quiet that it was hard to tell if he actually said it, or if Devon imagined it.

She gave him a soft smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sure we’ll end up working on a case together at some point…I do help SVU from time to time,” she replied quietly. He gave her another stiff nod, not trusting himself to speak. She no longer trusted her own voice, and turned away, unable to look at his face anymore. She felt tears spring to her eyes, and she blinked them away rapidly, swallowing past the lump in her throat. Devon made her way to the front door, unlocking it, opening it slowly.

“Wait,” Barba finally choked out. Devon froze at the door, one foot already in the hallway. She looked over her shoulder at him, eyes softening for a moment. His mouth opened and closed a couple times, but no sound came out.

She gave him a small smile. “Stay safe,” she whispered, and then she was gone.

 *********************

Devon didn’t go straight home. It was still early in the evening; the sun still hadn’t set, and it was still warm out. She also didn’t call a cab; instead opting to simply wander the streets, the grip slung over her shoulder soon forgotten as her mind, too, began to wander. She made it a full block before the tears began to flow, slowly at first, but then soon falling freely. She let them, ignoring the stares from strangers she walked by. It was good to let it all out, especially here, outdoors, rather than in her own space. She did wander in the general direction of her apartment—she lived about a 30-minute walk from Barba’s loft—and she took her time, weaving in and out of the streets. Finally, with the sun setting, and her shoulder growing sore from the weight, she made her way home.

 *********************

Apartment of Devon Motely

Saturday, May 2nd. 7:35pm

After her undercover op in California, Devon had the cleaners from the FBI clean her place so that it wasn’t dusty or gross. This was not the case with the past three months with Barba; the place had obviously not been inhabited. Dust covered every surface, there was a weird smell that wasn’t there before, and it was stuffy. Devon sighed, having no motivation to clean anything, emotionally drained. She looked at the clock and sighed again, realizing she hadn’t eaten anything besides breakfast and the little pastry at the café by the park, right before everything fell apart. She should eat, but she didn’t feel hungry. She didn’t really feel anything right now except for emptiness…a longing, and a loneliness that she hadn’t felt in years.

She went to her room and checked her bed, sniffing the sheets. They smelled musty, and she knew she couldn’t sleep in that. She stripped the sheets and threw them on the floor in the corner; that was a tomorrow problem. She went to her closet and pulled out her back-up sheets but couldn’t bring herself to make the bed. Instead, she threw them on the bed in a heap and made her way to the kitchen. Hungry or not, she should eat something, especially if she planned on drinking—and she did plan on drinking; maybe it would help lessen some of the emptiness, though she knew, deep down, that that was a load of crap.

First things first, she looked in her liquor cabinet, finding some cheap whiskey. Fingers crossed, she looked in her fridge and, hallelujah, she found an unopened bottle of Coca Cola. She quickly made herself a strong drink, then took another look in the fridge. No food to be found. She checked her pantry next. A couple cans of soup and some long-expired rice. She winced, remembering that she had been gone for over three years now; she really needed to go grocery shopping tomorrow.

Sighing, she grabbed a box of instant rice and opened it. It wasn’t fuzzy or discolored, so she presumed it was fine. The alcohol she was drinking would kill anything in it, anyways. While waiting for the water to boil, she unpacked her grip, throwing the clothes in a laundry bin, plugging in her laptop, and taking out her toiletries, to be replaced with new ones tomorrow. She went back to the kitchen, grabbed a notepad, and started making a list of foods. Once done, she had a thought, and went to her supply closet. After checking the small amount of cleaners she had, she added ones she needed to the list too. She was on autopilot, thoughts blank, afraid to stop moving. Actions kept her thoughts at bay. Speaking of moving, she realized that she could finally go back to the gym tomorrow morning, something that she thought she’d be excited for, but in this state, it was a dull thought. She dreaded the pain she’d be in tomorrow—her little morning routine wasn’t intense enough to replace a gym workout—but knew it would be worth it in the end.

Satisfied with her list, Devon took her food and drink, then sat in her living room. She didn’t like how the apartment didn’t seem…familiar, not in the way she was used to, or how his had felt. Even with her work, she had lived in this apartment for about seven years now, and it was always a welcome relief coming home. Now, it was like a piece was missing. Suddenly, the silence was pushing in on her, deafening her. She lunged for the TV remote, turned on whatever sports station she could find, and sat there, picking at her rice as the announcers were droning on about…the Mets. It didn’t really matter what was on, as long as there was continuous talking, hence, sports.

It didn’t take long, though, before the monotone voices seemed to tune out of her consciousness. Devon finished her food and drink, went back to the kitchen to dispose of her dishes, and brought the whiskey and coke back to the couch with her. She quickly lost count of drinks, thinking more and more about, well, everything that happened the past couple months. She remembered the first night she had met the ADA, before she knew who he was. She thought about how he didn’t want her help at first, how he had told Olivia that he didn’t need her. How she had made a deal with him that she’d never bother him again afterwards.

She thought about those first few weeks together, about how they were awkward around each other, learning about each other. She thought about how fascinated she was the first time she watched him in court, the pride and awe the first time he won a conviction. She remembered how his eyes lit up, how he set his jaw when he ran through his arguments with her in his office. She remembered how his green eyes conveyed concern when she got stabbed in the shoulder. She remembered his little smirk when he found something amusing. She wondered when she noticed all these little things about him.

She was shocked when she felt the tears on her cheeks, didn’t notice them pooling in her eyes. So, what if she loved him? It wasn’t going to work; she knew that! She had to move on with her life, let him move on, too. He deserved someone who could love him with their whole heart, who could be there for him when he needed them. She couldn’t be that person; she was always on call, and it was never a guarantee that see would come home at night.

Devon let out a loud sniffle, trying to control her emotions. It was final; she would forget about Rafael Barba. She would get a good night sleep, clean her apartment tomorrow, and then go back to work on Monday. And that was that. She finished her drink, wiped the tears out of her eyes, then went to her room. She saw the sheets clumped on her bed and let out a frustrated scream.

[hyperactivelittlebee]

The oddity at Area77(Hermitcraft)

BEFORE YOU READ, KNOW THIS:

Doc did add some fox DNA to fill in gaps in the chain, this is unexplained in the fix so I wanted to put this here.

This takes place in a AU where Doc going through the infinity portal led him to an entirely different dimension instead.

Ren strummed his guitar as he listened to Grian and Impulse chat across the campfire, their heads adorned with flower crowns as colorful as the conversation. As adorable as they were, his thoughts were not focused on the conversation between the two other hippies, their words slowly slipping together until they were completely foreign to him. The Lycan stood up, putting down his guitar before walking over to the treeline of the manmade cliff hiding the camp.

He squinted, his eyesight sharpening as he searched the grounds of Area 77, huffing at the sight of the empty terrain. No one had seen Doc leave the sight for days, and whenever Scar was out he would always be in a rush- muttering about how he needed to get back to the sight as soon as possible. It was suspicious- everyone on the server knew that- but Xisuma had checked it out and had come back saying they were just expanding the underground.

Ren combed his fingers through his long brown hair, a soft growl bubbling in his throat. No. They couldn't be simply expanding the underground- they were acting too suspicious for that- and he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

Meanwhile, inside Area 77- things were bubbling to the brim.

Doc paced, eye scanning the mess of papers in his hands in anger. Each paper was filled from top to bottom with various notes, mathematical equations, formulas, and descriptions- all his and Scar's handwriting. His eyes scanned the papers furiously, trying to figure out the problem with his notes just as he had been doing for weeks.

Every. single. formula. was. perfect. They had calculated every ounce to a T without a problem, each calculation was flawless- 

"So why the fuck isnt it working?!" The creeper hybrid yelled before roaring in frustration and slamming his robotic fist down on the metallic surface, making a sizable dent. Scar jumped in his seat in shock, eyes wide as saucers and shaking. He had just started dozing off when the loud smash sounded and gave him a near heart attack, but now he was fully awake. Doc looked at him, immediately regretting his outburst as he saw the fearful look on the younger man's face, "S-sorry Scar..." His tone was strained, but softer than before making Scar's shaking slowly cease, "I-its fine...I was falling asleep anyway..." The brunette rubbed the tiredness from his eyes.

They tensed when an alarm went off, spinning towards the monitor. On the screen, it showed Ren walking towards the hangar doors with a surprising scowl on his face.

"Shit..." Doc cursed under his breath before grabbing his trident and running out, "I got it Scar..."

"M'kay..."

Doc flew up to the hanger just in time to see Ren pry the doors open gently, the eyes of the pair locking. "Doc." The Lycans voice came out forced as if he was trying to sound simply intimidating but instead, it came out as if he was frustrated with the creeper hybrid.

"Ren. What did I say about coming here? You aren't allowed. It's strictly forbidden." Ren shrugged, trying to relax, "I thought I'd come offer to help you and Scar expand- it's taking you quite a long time."

Fuck. Doc had forgotten about that excuse. He forced a grin, "Thanks, but no thanks. Scar and I have got it covered." Suddenly, the creeper hybrid took in the other male's posture and he narrowed his eyes, "But that's not really why you're here is it."

Sighing, Ren huffed, "Alright, alright. I wanted to know the real reason behind you and Scar's behavior- What the hell are you dudes workin' on?"

"You don't need to know Ren."

"I DO need to, the curiosity is killing me Doc!!"

"Curiosity cannot literally kill you, Ren, now go home and don't make me use my trident and drag you out by the scruff." Ren sputtered, gasping in offense, "You wouldn't dare!!"

"I would."

The two held glares for several minutes before Ren made a mad dash for the ladder all of a sudden, Doc lobbing his trident at him in instinct. The trident snagged his shirt, pinning him to the wall, "I told you, Ren. Now come on." He pinched the back of Ren's neck- his scruff- and took his trident from the wall, dragging the whining younger man out the door. He was going to drag him all the way to the gate, when suddenly Ren shouted something, "C'mon man- Your not my mom or my dad, let go!!"

Doc froze, eye widened as he murmured, "Mom...or dad..." The creeper let go of Ren, eyes wide, "Holy shit, I've got it!!!" He turned and dashed back to the hanger, leaving behind a confused Ren laying on the lawn as he locked the hanger back up and jumped to the bottom of the ladder, sprinting to the lab, "Scar, I think I've got it!!!"

"What??"

"I figured out what we were missing!!" He laughed, beyond ecstatic as he grabbed his notes, "We have the DNA from a female- the mother- but we never added the DNA for a FATHER!!" He whipped around towards Scar, "Quick, I need some of your DNA- Do a cheek swab-" Scar tensed, "What? Why me?"

"Would you rather give Creeper DNA to an already potentially dangerous foreign entity, or would you rather give it human DNA?" Scar was silent, internally face palming as he grabbed a clean Q-tip and did a cheek swab.

He handed the Q-tip to Doc, who put it in a separater. Scar walked over to the machine, entering the formulas and measurements, silently praying for Doc to be right. He and Doc were on their last DNA sample of the unknown female- they had one last shot at this.

"Alright, Stand back with glasses!" Scar grabbed his goggles and ran behind the safety glass with Doc, sealing the door.

The Redstone lit the chamber up in an ominous red as the machine started to shake, flickering between blue and green lights as it powered on. A shadow slowly formed inside it, looking more and more human-shaped as it molded itself.

Doc and Scar's hearts were in their throats, almost weeping in joy. It was working- they were recreating an actual body and technically reviving someone dead. It started to move into the memory transfer, working to restore the being's memories. This was a scientific breakthrough- bigger than the infinity portal, or the weather machine, it would mean everything.

The two scientists' minds were running at a hundred miles an hour with possibilities. Bringing back long-dead societies and servers- reversing Permadeaths- it was all endless.

Then something went wrong.

The alarm went off, the buttons on the machine blinked red, the monitors flashed with "System failure" all over them, "Shit!!" Scar shouted, excitement turning into fear in seconds.

Doc scrambled to do something to stop the process- The body was more likely already formed, it was proof enough, "Scar! Shut it down!!" Scar nodded and slammed his hand down on a button labeled "Abort", all the systems shut down at once and the only light coming from the emergency lights around them.

The pair shook, staring into the room. There was a soft hiss as the body chamber began to open, prompting Doc to spring into action and race into the room.

The chamber door opened and sure enough, in the cushioned cradle was the small form of a baby, still and silent. He ran in, kneeling down by the cradle and cautiously scooping it up.

The first thing he noticed was that it was a female, the idea instilling itself as Scar ran in immediately with a soft-looking baby blanket. The second noticeable thing was her short, incredibly pure snow-white hair and two large silver fox ears followed by a long fluffy silver foxtail protruding from her lower back. The third thing he noticed, was that due to aborting early her body wasn't finished forming. She was missing her leg up to her kneecap on one leg, and the other was missing halfway down her shin- the ends just being clean stumps. 

Her skin was a milky white like a ghost.

A pit formed in the brunette's stomach as anxiety settled in, Doc's fingers pressing against her pulse, his eyes searching for some sign of life. Scar's swallowed dryly, the pure fear settling in that this- the endless nights of exhaustion, the multitude of trips in and out of the Infinity portal just for simple excavation, the endless formulas and equations and mountains of crumpled papers- might've all been for nothing.

Doc held his breath as he prayed for a pulse, "Please...please wake up..." He murmured, eye searching the baby's face for anything- any signs of life.

Nothing came.

The creeper hybrid felt like he was going to break down right then. He slowly placed the baby back in the crib and walked back to the door, the exhaustion creeping back in on him as devastation weighed heavy in his heart, "This experiments over. I...I can't do this anymore Scar. I thought I could handle this- but I can't..." Scar could see it in his eyes- the hurt, the pain, the devastation.

Doc had wanted this to succeed more than anything else. Sure, it was proof he could play Notch for a brief moment! Just long enough to stick it to everyone who told him he would never be able to. However, it was also personal.

Doc and Scar had been searching ruins from the infinity dimension, quickly realizing they had stumbled across a dying- or perhaps already long-dead- species settlement. They searched and searched, digging until they came across an almost fully decayed body of one of the natives. They tested the DNA sample only to find that the DNA matched nothing the servers had seen before- then Doc had the idea. He wanted to use the dead tissue to try and rebirth the species.

Was it a good idea? In hindsight, not really.

Was the idea of potentially playing Notch and creating life alluring? Absolutely.

But now was their last chance- having used up the last strands of DNA they had from the remains- and it had failed for what, the 27th time? They had made it far enough to almost fully create a body- so, so close...but in the end, they couldn't give it life.

Scar gently patted Doc's back, "Okay...you just...You go rest-"

A wail cut Scar off, his eyes growing as wide as saucers. Doc whipped around in surprise, his voice caught in his throat as his eyes locked on the babe, who squirmed and wail in the cradle- eyes screwed shut and little hands reaching for empty air. Scar felt all his anxiety and fear wash away with that wail, tears of relief gathering in his eyes.

Doc walked over to the cradle, reaching out to pick up the baby before flinching back, looking at his prosthetic arm with uncertainty. Instead, he reached down and gently petted the top of the baby's head. Slowly, the baby calmed, instead making soft cooing noises.

He looked to Scar as he drew his hand back, "Scar, you pick them up. When you do, they'll probably open their eyes and imprint on you." His voice was faint, weary and strained. Scar raised a brow, "Why can't you? You're the one that conducted the experiment after all...Are you uncomfortable with the idea of it imprinting on you?"

Doc looked at Scar, tensing and biting his lip- his sharp teeth digging into his bottom lip, "It...its not that I'm uncomfortable! I-i just- They've got YOUR DNA, your technically their father a-and- and-...god dammit..." The creeper hybrid cursed under his breath, unable to formulate better words as Scar gave him a look that screamed unconvinced, "I just-" He sighed in defeat, looking at the brunette with a rare moment of vulnerability, "I don't think...having her imprint on me is a good idea."

"Why not?" Scar's voice was soft, silently telling Doc that whatever he felt, Scar would at least try to understand.

"Scar...Look at me. To a child- I look like a monster under the bed! I mean- I intimidated and terrified the hell out of everyone on the server when I first arrived simply by appearance alone! I'm missing an eye, half my face, and an arm. I replaced them with metal plating on my shoulder and face, a robotic arm, and a cold, emotionless, glowing red laser-like dot for an eye." He ranted, his voice remaining quiet enough to not disturb the baby but loud enough to get his anger across, "But that only added to my already scary appearance. I'm practically a giant with how tall I am but instead of being mostly lanky like Mumbo and X, I'm well built with muscles- which I'm not complaining about that necessarily, but a child sees how big I am and normally they run the other way crying!" He strode closer towards an unwavering Scar, towering over the smaller man with a snarl on his face, showing off his teeth as his voice grew firmer, "I'm a Creeper Scar- I walk among everyone else and talk with them as if I'm one of you but I am still just that- A mob made to instinctively blow up and kill as many as I can. My teeth are sharp to let me consume meat, My skin is tough like iron armor and rough like gravel to protect me, my nails are meant to slash and draw blood- Fuck, the only thing I've managed to not break or hurt has been Redstone machinery! I'm meant to kill-" He drew back, eye filled with anger at not Scar, but himself, "Not to raise something as delicate and soft as a baby. I don't....My DNA might have been blended with a little bit of humans- My father might have been a human- but that instinct? The one that gives parents an urge to love and protect their child? I don't have that in me. You do, Scar."

The room was quiet as the two stared each other down, Scar standing stubbornly.

"With all due respect, Doc...that's the most moronic thing you've ever said."

"Excuse me?" Doc scoffed, shock written on his face. Scar narrowed his eyes, "Doc- look at me. Do I look like the nicest guy?" Doc's eyes scanned the younger man's face, his eyes drawn towards the 3 large scars across his face, left to right, and the piercing gold irises, "No, I don't. People look at me and are immediately repulsed by my scars- how do you think I came across that name? People started calling me Scar and disregarded my real name- I don't even remember how long ago it was when suddenly the only name I knew was Scar! "Despite how he looks, It's always a good time with Scar!" They mocked...Nobody was around who remembered my birth name and so eventually I just- forgot it...I adopted the name and phrase people from my home server called me where ever I went- Scar Goodtimes." His tone was surprisingly solemn and tame, catching Doc off guard, "Doc, your situation? Honestly, its a shame on me to compare to my own- My scars aren't nearly as bad as yours- but I know what your feeling. Let me tell you- You are passing off the opportunity of a lifetime, are you sure you want to do that?"

Doc was frozen in place, eye growing wide. He had never really thought about it like that, he never wondered why Scar was named something so blatantly obvious, he never realized this truly was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

It wasn't like he'd ever settle down with someone- he was fine with being single- so this would probably be the only chance he'd have at experiencing being a father.

The hybrid took a deep breath, "Fine...your right Scar." He smiled warily, "I didn't get this far without seizing opportunities or taking risks after all." Doc chuckled nervously, turning to the crib and looking inside. The baby's eyes were still shut and she was now nibbling on the blanket Scar had draped over her earlier, seemingly unaware of his presence.

He cleared his voice before speaking quietly, "Hello little one..." Doc reached into the crib, gently scratching the baby's back. The baby let out a gurgling noise, turning to his hand and grabbing his finger with little hands.

The Creeper heart felt lighter, the soft coo's reaching his ears and the feeling of soft, delicate little hands wrapped around his fingers. 

"Bah!" The baby yelled out the word so suddenly it made Doc and Scar jump a little bit. Doc looked up at Scar, his eye begging for the other man's help, "What- what do I do now?" The brunette rolled his eyes, walking over and standing on the opposite side of the crib, "Pick her up. Support her head and body most importantly- She probably isn't old enough to support it on her own..."

Doc gulped nervously as he slowly scooped up the smaller body into his arms, shifting around a bunch before just settling on cradling it in his arms, pressed against his chest. He felt like he was physically melting as he gazed down at the being in his arms, an awestruck smile crossing his face as he looked up at Scar, "She's...she's so tiny...Scar- Scar it's so small I-i- M-My chest hurts- My heart- I can't- She's so cute-"

Scar gawked in silent amazement at the display before him. Doc was shaking, looking like he was about to cry as he shakily held the baby in his arms. The scientist's smile was so incredibly contagious and his voice was soft, squeaky and breathless as he tried to convey what he felt.

That hard shell Doc kept up so often was crumbling to pieces at his feet just like that, "M-maybe you should sit down..." Scar muttered and put a hand on Doc's back, leading him out the machine and grabbing two chairs from the control room, setting them down and leading Doc to sit.

Their attentions snapped back towards the baby as it let out an excited gurgle, "DAH!" She stretched her arms towards Doc's face, eyes opened wide and fixed on him with a large smile on her face.

Her eyes sparkled as they focused on him, a soft gasp sounding as his breath hitched, eye-widening. Her left eye was a shimmering forest green, but her right was a milky, clouded white. Half-blind.

"Heh....well, I'll be darned-"

Scar's voice cut off as a sob retching itself from Doc's throat, looking back to him in shock as he saw shimmering tears stream down the right side of his face, a wide grin on his lips as he bent down and brought her closer to his face, resting his forehead against hers as overjoyed sobs just kept coming. Incoherent blabbers came from his mouth, a large, shaky smile stretched across his lips as tiny hands roamed his face. They touched his cheeks, grabbed his nose, and tugged gently at his hair.

Doc felt like dying- his heart was swelling, his emotions were horrendously out of wack, he felt weak in the legs.

He looked up at Scar, his voice broken, "S-Scar...a-am I having a heart attack?" Scar sputtered, shocked, "What? Of course not-"

"T-then what IS this...this f-feeling?"

Scar blinked. Once. Twice. Then a smile of realization hit him, "That's joy, Doc. Really- Intense joy..."

"Joy...."

Doc separated his forehead from the baby's, warmth settling itself in his stomach as Scar sat closer and leaned in, "May I?" His voice was just above a whisper once again, looking to the creeper hybrid for permission, "Y-yea...go ahead..."

Scar gently took the baby from Doc's arms, cradling it in his arms and gasping softly, "She's...surprisingly light?"

"I know..."

Silence took priority in the room, Scar gently humming as he rocked the child to sleep. When the baby yawned gently and closed its eyes, the brunette spoke up again, "What are you going to name her?"

Doc thought, gazing at the sleeping baby in his friend's arms until finally, it clicked, "Amal." Scar snorted softly, looking at him, "Amal? What's that mean?"

"Well... there are many meanings but- a more common one is to have hope...to be bright, clean, pure..." Doc's gaze only softened as he spoke, making Scar's melt a little.

He wished the others could see this.

"Amal it is then..."

[spideyy-girl]

Prince Charming ~ Richie Tozier [IT]

Requested by @caswinchester2000: combined one prompt from each request for this (sorry if it’s disappointing, but I hope you still enjoy!)

22: “Can I trust you?” “Probably not, but you will anyway.” “Good to know.”

24: “Shut up and kiss me already.”

Warnings: henry being a bully >:(, blood, mentions of parents fighting/abuse

Word Count: 1149 (3.3 pages)

~~~

The warm summer breeze hit your face as you ran down the shallow river, holding the hand of your new friend Ben and tugging him along with you. The water under your feet splashed violently with each step you took, soaking the bottom of your ripped mom jeans, not that you noticed. The sound of your heavy breathing deafened you as you sprinted down the rocky waters. 

Suddenly a weight pulls you down, and you hit your head hard on a jagged boulder in the river. You groan and rub the side of your forehead where you got hit, pulling your hand back to see dark red painted across it.

Before you could think any more of it you hear a hiss, looking back at Ben and seeing him with his hand over his belly. You crawled over and took his hand away, gently lifting his shirt to see the wound that god awful Henry Bowers put on him before you pulled him out. It looked as if he had been carving his name into Ben's skin.

You made mental note to beat the shit out of him next time you say him.

"Holy shit! What happened to you guys?" You hear a voice and quickly move your head to look in the direction of it. There you see four boys standing in the entrance of the barrens, all looking at you in shock. You recognized them from your school, they were in your homeroom for a few years.

Richie Tozier was the one who spoke. He was known as the trashmouth of the school, with thick glasses and thicker black hair. His friends, Bill Denborough, Eddie Kaspbrak, and Stanley Uris stood with him, quizzically looking on. 

"Well, are you just gonna stand there and watch us like some freak show?" You said harshly, as you tried standing up but fell right back into the water, feeling faint still. Eddie and Stan rushed over to the two of you, trying to help you up. You tried swatting away their hands as they helped you up but once they let go you grabbed Stan's shoulder, as he led you over to his other friends.

"W-w-we should g-get them to a doctor," Bill suggested, offering you a smile as you and Stan walked over. You tried to return it, but couldn't really do anything properly as it seems at the moment, so it turned out more like a grimace. 

"Looking like that? No way in fuck, they're going to start asking weird questions and shit," said Richie, rather loudly. He turned to look back over at you. "Lucky for you pretty lady, we've got the best doctor in Maine right here, isn't that right doctor K?" He nudged Eddie beside him who just pushed him away.

The group of boys helped me and Ben through some plants that you could've sworn looked like poison ivy to where their bikes were placed. Ben went with Bill as Richie went over to me, Stan helping him over to the trashmouth's bike. 

"Can I trust you?" you asked quietly, partially not wanting to know the answer. He took your hand and helped you onto the back of his bike, sitting down in front of me before replying.

"Probably not, but you will anyway," he said as he pushed off and began to pedal behind his friends through the woods towards the town pharmacy. You tightly gripped his waist and buried my head into his back as you sarcastically replied.

"Good to know." you could hear him laugh at the witty response. "Don't worry, sweetheart. Just know I wouldn't let anything happen to a girl with such a pretty face. Fuck knows that's rare to find in this damn town." He said it seriously but you couldn't help the laugh that escaped your lips.

"Oh, my prince charming!" you squeal sarcastically, a smile still on your lips. When he looked back over at you, he let his own smile spread across his face.

~~~

It had been a couple of weeks since you had that first encounter with the Losers club, and since then the group had gained two new friends named Beverly and Mike. You were the group of town rejects, but who the hell cared when you all had each other.

Or that's what you thought before. Until you all split up after fighting at the Neibolt house. 

You sat in your room, cheap headphones over your ears as you try to block out the loud yells of your parents. You knew it was only a matter of time before your father started throwing plates again. It was times like this that you missed your friends, giving you an excuse to get away from your house, from the constant mess and screams.

You were blasting your music so loud, so lost in your distant thoughts, that you didn't hear the rocks hitting your window. Next thing you know, the infamous town trashmouth is crawling through your window. You almost shriek when you see him, thinking he was trying to rob you.

"Well don't give me that, you weren't answering so what was I supposed to do?" He said as if it was obvious. You roll your eyes as you respond.

"Maybe try knocking at the front door like any normal human?" you suggested, raising your eyebrows as you take off your headphones and throw them on your bedside table. Richie looked down, a rapid change in demeanour.

"I didn't think it was an option... considering I could hear them from down the street. Thought I shouldn't get in the middle of that," he explained. At the answer, you visibly shrink, embarrassed of your parents being so loud. He reaches over to lay a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry, I get what it's like."

You look up at him in shock as he just smiles welcomingly, leading you to the window as he helps you from the ledge to the branch of a nearby tree. "My prince charming," you joke once you get to the bottom, Richie jumping down right beside you."

"You know I'll always come to save you, princess," he says. You grab his hand as you guys sneak away from your house and down the street. Once you've walked out of eyesight from your street he turns towards you and gives you a playful smirk. "So, where's my reward, princess?"

You roll your eyes as you grab the collar of his tacky hawaiian shirt and pulled him closer. "Just shut up and kiss me already," you said smugly, taking him by surprise. Nevertheless, he hastily presses his lips against yours. 

If someone told you a few months ago that you would be kissing Richie Tozier this summer, you would've laughed in their face. But as it was happening, you couldn't imagine anything better than these precious moments.

~~~

Tags:  

Permanent:  @phonegalhelp​ @caswinchester2000​ @gwenebear​ @morganvanilla​

A/N: sorry this literally took half a year!! Ik I’m the worst I was just feeling so uninspired and unmotivated lately but writing this has sparked something in me so thank you! Also sorry it wasn’t exactly what you requested but I felt this would be better than if I wrote two I had no idea what to do with? But thank you for waiting and requesting and I hope you enjoyed nonetheless!

[trashfireinc]

apparently teenagers don’t know a lot about life. I mean, its a fair argument. if I’m lucky I’ve still got a good 62 years left on this space rock. but just for shits and giggles, lets take a look at what i’ve learned so far.

when i was four, i learned that everyone does not, in fact, see blurry colors and shapes. i also learned that the level of fucked up my eyesight is can be measured in numbers. wicked.

when i was five, i went to kindergarten. in that first year of school, i learned that books are a way better way to spend my time than playdates.

when i was seven, i noticed that teachers really, really like me. and i really, really liked them too. turns out, elementary school teachers and i have a common love for whiteboard markers and “good job” stamps.

when i was eight, i learned that parents don’t always sleep in the same bed. I learned that sometimes dad’s voice gets really fucking loud and mom learned how to run when she was a kid too. i noticed that mom didn’t really get out of bed much anymore. she didn’t really do much of anything anymore. but she still let me sleep in her bed, so i didn’t really think about it anymore.

when i was nine, i learned that dogs have babies just like humans. i learned that puppies need more attention than even i did. i learned to love my puppies more than anyone else i was yet to meet. the runt of the litter died. by this, i was taught that the weak don’t make it far.

when i was nine, i learned that adults roughhouse too. but most of the time they aren’t joking. I learned that acrylic nails against a stubbly jaw ends with red and blue flashing lights and mom spending the night somewhere i couldn’t go.

when i was ten, i had to move from the only house i could remember. had to say goodbye to the room i painted into a blue sky. had to say goodbye to the pool in the backyard, where the first friend i made, had ever had learned my name.

when i was eleven, i met my first best friend. she was darker than me, but she held so much light. i remember talking on the swings and chasing boys through the multi-colored playground. i remember planning times to go to the bathroom so we could see each other between classes.

when i was twelve, my first best friend changed. she still had that light, but she used it to manipulate her way to the top of the popularity list. she wore too-tight shirts and white american eagle jeans. she made it clear that she wasn’t bringing a plus one to the top with her. she still came to my house, and when no one from school was around i could pretend that she hadn’t changed at all. that’s when i learned how to ignore the bad parts of people, even when they hurt you over and over again.

when i was twelve, i also learned that sometimes, people hate you for no good reason. after my first best friend, i met a girl. a-line blonde bob, jeans and tees just like me. she blended in, and i didn’t know who she really was until it was too late. i lost my phone in gym. my mom pinged the location and i heard it coming from a class down the hall. i opened the door, and there she was. my phone in her hand, her trying to turn it off. me biting my lip, running out to the bathroom to hide from my mom and her. she cut 6 inches of my hair off after we caught her. my mom got her expelled, and i learned one more thing that year. revenge isn’t sweet. it’s tasteless.

when i was thirteen, i learned that new situations are worse than the one you were trying to escape in the first place. I learned that the only time i felt safe was in the bathroom stall with my legs on the toilet seat. wanted so badly to be invisible. i learned that the only way to have a few minutes without anxiety, was to bleed. I learned to call the sting and the velvety warmth home, and since then i am uncomfortable without that burn.

when i was fourteen, i learned that writing is a better way to spend the time than much of anything else. with no direction i wrote short stories, bad poems, and journaled til i had a callus on my thumb. i smeared the pages with blood and never got more than halfway through a journal before getting bored of the cover. i learned to write and write and write until everything i had inside of me boiled down to hundreds of thousands of words.

when i was fifteen, i learned that no and maybe are synonyms to the wrong type of boy. i realized that even i wasn’t immune to the desperate persuasion that comes a guy who wants to get off. i started cussing a lot more. our movie dates ended with me crying myself to sleep, wondering why i didn’t say pull away when his hand found mine, why i let him use me like that, why i didn’t just walk out of the theater, why i didn’t fucking end it right there. i found the strength to later, and the revenge i got as tears streamed down his face was the same: tasteless.

when i was sixteen i learned that you can love so many people at once, all in different ways. a boy who led the group, kind when it matters and a great listener. a boy who made everyone laugh, with beautiful curls and honest hands. a girl who went to school in the town over, a voice that gets the birds harmonizing and me head over heels. a girl who supplies the music, mostly oldies she somehow got me to listen to and love. and this is how a romantic slowly meets their biggest weakness.

when I was seventeen I learned for the third time that you should walk away from experimental girls, girls who have a history of only being halfway interested, girls who say all the right things and give up when they win your heart. walk away from those girl friends that flirt when it’s fun. just because you give them everything they want doesn’t mean they will choose you when the dust settles.

I’m eighteen now. i’m learning that growth is something you have to work on every day, confrontation isn’t positive or negative, and not everyone is the enemy. i’m learning to love all over again (for the sixth time). it’s only been two months and i’ve already gained so much. here’s to the next ten.

[yojeongin]

small written portion below images ☆彡

compass

masterlist in bio

[pt. 27: he stank]

pairings: art teacher!taehyung x mom!reader x producer!jungkook

genre: bts parenting au, sm au, crack humor, fluff, angst

a/n: owo oWo,, haha lowkey coming to an end :D

—❁—

Taehyung had no expected to had been woken up by the horrid sound of their doorbell. Despite being in that same apartment many times, the bell was never rung given that a harsh knock was enough to alarm everyone that someone was at the door.

He had given it at least a few seconds until he noticed y/n wasn’t opening the door, so as he sighed softly and put on a shirt he often had laying around in your room, the boy walked towards the door, slippers shuffling against the wooden floor of the living room.

“Please give me a few seconds,” he’d whine, voice groggy and deeper than usual. His pout was prominent as he rubbed his eyes and with a silent huff he opened the door, not expecting sunlight to hit his face so early (despite it being noon.)

“Taehyungie!” The childish voice that wrapped itself around his torso caused his silent curse to stop as he felt yani’s tight embrace. “Hey, bubs!” He spoke bubbly ignoring his earlier annoyance of being woken up. “Hello,” He’d speak to the women staring at him with much disapproval. “Would you like to speak with, y/n?” Giving them another smile, it soon faded seeing how they just nodded. “Very much so.”

Nodding he picked up Yani, beginning to speak on his way to the restroom. “Baby, yani is here. Umm-“ stopping at the fact he didn’t know their names, Taehyung turned to them, his eyes speaking for him. “Jungkook’s mother.” The taller woman spoke sternly, causing for Yani to furrow his eyebrows before he went back to playing with the hole in Taehyung’s shirt. “Alright. Baby, jungkook’s mom wants to talk with you.”

He didn’t have to tell you, you could hear everything from the cold restroom where you hoped to hide out until she got tired of waiting but also feared they would say something to Taehyung. Nodding to yourself as you exit the restroom, you give a smile to Taehyung in reassurance. “Yani, why don’t you show Taehyungie the drawing uncle Yoongi helped you draw, yeah?” Nodding, the boy kissed your cheek before Taehyung carried him to the bedroom.

To say Jungkook’s family weren’t looking at the interaction, would be a lie. Their eyes looking at every detail and action any of you did. Even the action of seeing you walk towards the lone chair in front of the women with the shirt Taehyung wore last night and a pair of sleeping shorts.

The air was hostile, the stares they gave you were judgmental and longing. Clearing your throat, a small smile resided on your lips. “Pomegranate juice? Jin made it yesterday.” The women only nodded as they watched you walk towards the kitchen, only to come back rapidly with a tray of three glasses and the pitcher.

“Hun, I’m sure you know why we’re here.” His mother begun, watching as you poured the juice into their glasses, Kook’s aunt taking a sip she would finish rapidly. “I-I’m well aware, Mrs. Jeon, but my answer remains the same.” As respectual as you were trying to be, their words had already gotten to you.

Jungkook’s aunt turned to look at you, shifting to give a sign she was about to talk. “Give him a chance love. He loves you and I’m sure you love him.” Shaking your head, you looked at your lap, leg shaking already. “I love him as a friend and nothing else, a greatful love for being the father of my son and nothing else.” Placing the glass down on the coffee table, you crossed your arms against your chest.

“Yes, the father of your son. Don’t you think it’d be best for Yani if you two were together?” A scoff left your lips hearing her words. Not even they believed it but for sakes of stopping the talking tongues, they tried to force a marriage that wasn’t needed. “In what possible way is it better?” Your question with eyebrows furrowed. “It’d be healthier for Yani and you both. You wouldn’t have to struggle with knowing what times to spend time with him.” Continuing to shake your head, a frustrated huff left your lips. “How is an unwanted marriage healthy? How would it be healthy for Yani? A marriage without love isn’t a happy marriage and personally I don’t want to be with Jungkook. You both already know who I want to be with.”

“Clearly,” his aunt spoke taking the last sip of juice once again. “But is he the right choice?” Mrs. Jeon questioned, squinting her eyes softly as she looked at you. “Mrs. Jeon of course he is. I love him, he loves me. For sakes Yani loves him and Taehyung adores Yani, not only that but your own son likes Taehyung and doesn’t mind what we have. Even so Jungkook has no say in my relationship with Taehyung just like Taehyung has no say in my parenting with Jungkook.” Though speechless and knowing well you were right, Jungkook’s mother asked to bring Taehyung out.

“What? No. This doesn’t have to involve him.” You spoke following behind the woman who had already reached your room. Opening the door, you couldn’t hesitate as both inside turned to the open door. Yani stood in front of Taehyung who sat on the floor with his legs crossed pretending to be his student as Yani spoke about his drawings. “Would you mind coming?” She asked Taehyung softly, seeing your defeated lowered head, Taehyung only nodded.

The three smiled at the boy who only looked at them blankly. “Watch TV, bubs.” You’d softly tell Yani who only turned around to turn on the television. Grabbing Taehyung’s hand into yours, the three walked towards the living room.

Sitting on the couch to the left of the women, Taehyung pulled you to his chest whilst his arms wrapped around your hip and shoulder. Creating a sense of reassurance and safety.

“Do you see this going anywhere?” Jungkook’s aunt asked, Taehyung looking at them both before at you. “It’s going somewhere and I hope it remains that way.” It was soft and innocent sounding. His eyesight directed at you as his grip became tighter. “Are you sure? Are you sure you can handle juggling your relationship with taking care of a child? This isn’t a typical relationship and one only goes into one knowing what they’ve gotten themselves in.” It was so cold, cold to where the hair the back of his neck rose.

It was true, this wasn��t a usual relationship and he knew it, but he also knew that he wanted to be part of it and would fight through it against all obstacles. “I wouldn’t have gotten in it if I didn’t know what was ahead,” looking at the and shifting slightly. “With all do respect, I adore y/n and Yani and wouldn’t want to give them up for anything. At all. I knew what it meant to be in a relationship like this and I’m up for whatever obstacle.” Your hand found his, squeezing it softly.

With a sigh, Jungkook’s mother took her purse onto her lap. “Think about it y/n. Give Jungkook a thought and ignore whatever happened, if that is what’s holding you back.” Ready to stand up, you beat her to it. Both facing each other. “What happened was purely his choice and only his choice. He decided to leave and abonded whatever we had. If you think it’s a bitter payback I’m trying to do, then you’re wrong because out of the consequences I’ve found peace and love just like he is.” Walking towards the door a soft smile rested on your face.

“I adore you both, but for once you need to know when to not dig your nose into something that has nothing to do with you. Jungkook and I have worked out a deal on how to care and love our child to where he is happy. Respect our way of parenting, the happiness that Seoyan contains, and respect Taehyung who deserves none of your blatant bitterness.” The heat in your neck turned into coolness, eyes jumpy from the anger they held. With heartbreak, the two women walked out trying to ignore their changed thoughts on the situation.

Closing the door behind you with all the locks, Taehyung walked your way wrapping his arms tightly around you. “Are you okay?” He’d question kissing your cheek with multiple kisses. “I’m just so tired…” a well needed gasp left your lips as you hurried your face in his chest, smell of cologne and his musk remaining on him and his shirt. “If it’s not them it’s my mother, school moms, or the media. God why can’t they mind their own business.” Taehyung never considered these problems to happen to you, so seeing how there was actual criticism towards your relationship, his heart shattered holding you tighter.

“I’d understand if you want to end this…” his voice was a mere whisper, closing his eyes tight to avoid any spillage. Pushing him away out of anger you shook your head. “It’s too early for dumb shit, Taehyung.” Scoffing you went back to his arms kissing his lips softly. “Don’t even say nonesense like that, I want you and only you. Fuck, I love you.”

With those word, his head resting on top of yours and his eyes closed once again, a smile formed on his plump lips.

“And I love you.”

taglist: @aureumjeon @bebbitta @bangtan-serendipity @thefooolonthehill @yoonjinbabe @mauvekookie @oodlespadoodle @cutaejaemin @princesskimnamjoon @mygscafe @rjsmochii @pastelbleuet @taegukgis @twomilkmen-gocomedy @parkjiminstan16 @jiminieschilliepeper @acc3ssdenied @lustremyg @sg2802 @sugamonster22 @slytherinholland @pocketfullofsuga @sippinpeachtea @btstxtstanninprogress @common-oreo @bts-reveries @magicalchan @babybluebisexual @beanstalkyoongi @hajimaoppaa @y-eehaw @darlingyoongs @kiara-rose-blackthorn @janieooo

[let me know if you want to be added to the taglist]

[latenightdrabble-blog]

Looks Can Be Deceptive

a/n: I know its been forever, but I’m writing this one because it was requested. This one’s for you bub! Hope you enjoy it :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the first day of college and you were nervous. After being in the same school for so long, you wondered if you could even make new friends anymore. You wiped the sweat off your hands and grabbed your satchel tightly. Your parents had helped you settle in to your dorm room the previous night, and the only person you had spoken to far was the warden. Your roommate was yet to arrive. 

You walked toward your first class hoping things would be alright. It took some time to find the right lecture hall, but with some help, you located it easily. Unfortunately, you were late to the class. The professor excused you but it didn’t mean that your new classmates didn’t take the opportunity to snicker at you. You took a seat at the back of the hall and wished to disappear. A tall boy made way for you to sit down, You took a peep into his notebook and he already seemed to have taken down a lot of notes. This experience was going to be difficult if  you didn’t keep up. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The library soon became your safe place. All the time you weren’t at class, you spent there, in hopes of catching up with the curriculum. It seemed like a big jump from the kind of studies you were used to, and the assignments were endless. 

You tried to reach the top shelf for one of the books you needed to complete your latest Computers assignment. Unfortunately, you couldn’t reach, even though you stood on your toes. 

“Do you need help with that? I can get that for you.”, you heard a deep voice behind you. You lost your balance in fright, and had to grab the bookshelf to steady yourself. Shutting your eyes in embarrassment, you turned around to find the source of this voice. It was the tall boy from your class! He had black spectacles on today, something he didn’t have earlier. You often sat beside him in class, since the other students didn’t really leave place for you. In spite of your sort of poor eyesight, you always felt at home with all the tall folks at the back of the class However, the two of you never talked, except for the occasional ‘Excuse me’ when you needed to get to your place, or a ‘Thank you’ when you borrowed anything from each other. 

You stepped aside and told him the name of the book you needed. He fetched it for you and stared at it for two seconds. 

“Oh no. OH NO. We have an assignment due right? Oh no I haven’t even started on it.” he said, his eyes widening in realisation. 

“Yeah we do, but don’t worry, it’s not due until next week!”, you said, in attempt to calm and quiet him. A couple of students had looked up from their books when he started rambling. 

“Yes but I won’t be free this weekend to finish it.” he said. 

You didn’t want to pry, you barely knew the guy, but you figured, this could be a chance to get to know him. You hadn’t made many friends. They were more like ‘people who are in my classes’. Spending time outside of class was not something you did, since you were in the library all the time. 

“I could help you... Uh... I mean if you want, we can work on it together so that’ll cut down the time we need to finish it.” you said, unsure of what his response would be. 

He stared at you for a few seconds, as if trying to process a couple of things all at once. You fiddled with the edge of the book as you waited, each second filling you with growing regret for suggesting it in the first place. 

“That would be really great. That would be wonderful really. Thank you so much! I’m Chanyeol, by the way.” he said, smiling and extending his hand for a shake. You took it and introduced yourself as well. 

Every evening for the rest of the week, you and Chanyeol spent your evenings in a corner of the library, away from the other students, as you realised that he was sort of excitable and had very little control over the volume of his voice. You managed to finish the assignment before the weekend, and for once, had nothing to do on Saturday and Sunday. Normally, other kids would spend it with their friends. So naturally, when Chanyeol asked you what your plans for the weekend were, you fumbled over your words and tried to come up with something.

“Hey, its okay. I know you don’t have many friends here, I’ve noticed. And that’s okay. I thought you were a really quiet kid, and was surprised that you offered to work together on the assignment. I’m really glad that you did, because now I know just how talkative you can be!” he said, cheekily. 

You punched his arm in retaliation and he pretended to be hurt. That made you burst into laughter, because he was a lot taller than you, and his arms felt solid under your punch. 

“Damn, Chanyeol, you work a lot huh?” you said, feeling his arm. 

“A guy needs his gains. We need to be able to protect ourselves from friends who punch you. Self defense.” he said 

You smiled at him, a funny feeling washing over you. He called you his friend, and it made your heart flutter. 

“Okay so now I know you have no plan for the weekend, so do you want to come see my band ?”

“Wait, you’re in a band?” you asked, in disbelief.

“Why, do I not look like someone who’s in a band?” 

“No it’s just that..... Never mind, we’ve hardly known each other, so it makes sense I’d love to come watch you guys practice.” 

He immediately perked up on hearing your reply. After giving you the details, he walked you to your dorm room and waved goodbye. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Shit, Chan, you’re brilliant! I didn’t know you played guitar so well! And the rest of the band is amazing too !” you said in delight. It was one of the best Saturday mornings you’ve had since you joined this university. Chanyeol introduced you to his band mates and friends - Baekhyun, Jongdae and MInseok. They were super friendly and welcomed you warmly. 

“Oh he does much more than play guitar, dear. He also plays the piano, the drums and he sings pretty well. Oh and how can I forget, he can rap too!” Baekhyun said cheekily. 

“Okay mom, are you done showing off about me?” Chanyeol retorted, rolling his eyes. You giggled at their antics, but were also impressed. 

“I did not take you for such talented guy! Insane. If you will allow me, I would like to come see you play all those instruments!” you said. 

“What about you, do you play any instrument?” Jongdae asked, joining the conversation. 

“Well... “ you trailed off. You were sort of shy to say, but you were pretty darn good at singing. However, you could hardly compare to Jongdae and Baekhyun. They were brilliant in their own right. 

“I’m guessing she sings.” Minseok said, not looking up. 

“How did you guess?” you asked, stunned.

“I saw you trying to sing along. That’s the sort of I see Baek do more often that I like.” 

Chanyeol almost turned into a puppy on hearing this. Baekhyun, however, turned into a pouting puppy. It was quite a sight. 

“YOU NEED TO SING FOR US!!” Chanyeol yelled, in his unintentionally loud voice. 

“I don’t think you want that I mean like hahaha you guys sing so well and..” you tried explaining, but it was futile. Chanyeol was already setting up a mic and grabbed his acoustic. 

“I know you like that song, Shut Up And Dance, I think I can play it. Come, sing.” Chanyeol called you. 

You knew there was no winning this battle. You did as you were asked and sang for them, They clapped for you at the end, and you couldn’t help but blush. 

“I can’t believe you were hiding those pipes from me!” Chanyeol said, as he put down his guitar. “I think we can all agree that with a bit of help and practice, she can actually utilize her voice to the maximum extent.” 

Baekhyun and Jongdae agreed enthusiastically. Minseok however, looked a bit reluctant, but shrugged in agreement. 

“Thanks guys, but I really do not want to detract from the main agenda, which is your practice. So I guess, help me out only when you have spare time.” you tried to reason. 

“Ah no, we can spare sometime on the weekends. It’ll be like a mini project!” Baekhyun said. 

So, a deal was made. You and Chanyeol would work together to complete all the assignments during the week, and rehearse on the weekends. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the days passed, you found yourself spending more time with Chanyeol You’d find yourself laughing at his antics quite often, and the other students wondered what changed you. At lunch, the other boys would sit with the two of you and cause quite a fuss, most of it started by Baekhyun. They also introduced to their other friends, Junmyeon, Yixing, Sehun, Jongin and Kyungsoo. They were part of the dance and theatre courses at the university, and soon, you became part of their friends circle. It surprised you, how quickly they took to you, and all your initial worry of being friendless through your time at university faded away. 

You also found yourself getting specially close to Chanyeol. Baekyun seemed to catch on and would tease you endlessly, but in secret. 

“I know you like him, why don’t you just tell him?” he asked you seriously, one day. 

“Well, I don’t want to ruin our friendship. Right now, my friends circle consists of mainly you guys. If he doesn’t feel the same way, then I’m back to square one. I’m so terrified.” you admitted. 

“Hey, I don’t think you have to worry about that. We’re friends with you because you’re cool and we enjoy your company. That’s what I’ve discussed with the other boys. And also, I think Chan is mature enough to not screw up a great friendship, no, a symbiosis like yours.” Baekhyun said. 

“Symbiosis?” you asked, surprised. 

“Yeah! You guys work really well together, it’s nuts. I think you should just tell him how you feel.” Baekyun said, knowing all too well that his tall friend had indeed fallen for you already. He didn’t bring a lot of girls to band practice, and he knew that you were special to him at the very least. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The minute you stepped in to the party, you realised you should have trusted your gut and stayed at home. It had been two months since you had that conversation with Baekhyun, and you finally worked up the courage to ask Chanyeol out. Although he was being a little distant off late, you though you might as well clear the air and confess.

But the minute you entered, you spotted Chanyeol by the bar, chatting up a pretty girl. You felt sick in the stomach, but before you could turn away, Jongdae came up to you and pulled you in. 

“Hey ! Someone cleans up really well !” he said, gesturing to your outfit. You could barely register what he was saying, as hot tears filled your eyes. His kitten like smile quickly disappeared as he hurriedly led you to a side room. Baekhyun stood there, his hands on his hips, looking tense. The minute he saw your face, the frown grew. 

“Did you see him already?” he asked, in a serious tone. 

“Yep. I couldn’t steal her away soon enough.” Jongdae replied, his voice quiet. 

You were surprised. They were the most energetic people you knew, and yet here they were, their mood sullen. Letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in, you quickly wiped your tears away. 

“I should just go home, guys.” you said.

“No way! You’re not going to miss Sehun’s party just because Chan decided to be an ass.” Baekhyun said, his frustration showing. 

“In his defense, he didn’t know I was going to ask him out today.” you said.

“Wait, what? Is that why you dressed up so fancy?” Jongdae asked in surprise. 

“Yep.” you laughed incredulously. 

“Oh God no. Good God. Holy crap.” Baekyun huffed. 

The door suddenly opened, surprising you. 

“Hey guys! What’s up? We were looking for y’all all over, the party is really getting started now, hurry up!” Jongin gushed, clearly already inebriated. He didn’t seem to catch on to the tension in the air. The four of you stood in silence for a few moments. You didn’t want to ruin Sehun’s birthday for him, so you made up your mind. Survive the night and then get away. 

Clearing your throat, you tried your best to smile. Taking a deep breath, you said, “Lead the way!” and followed Jongin out the door. 

You spent the rest of the evening with the boys, dancing and laughing, and drinking, and actively trying to avoid Chanyeol. You tried to have fun, after all, no one should stop you from enjoying your life. The news however, seemed to have spread to the other boys. They were taking turns trying to cheer you up - everything from a shot contest against Jongin, a dance contest against the birthday boy, and a singing contest against Jongdae. It was no surprise that they did badly on purpose, making you laugh at their antics. Chanyeol was however, clueless. You noticed,however, the girl from earlier wasn’t anywhere around. It didn’t bother you though, because you finally understood Baekhyun’s words. The boys did care for you, and that meant that you had real friends. 

By the time everyone left, you were too drunk to even stand. Chanyeol came up to you, and offered to take you home. You began to protest, your bottled emotions rising to the surface. 

“I haven’t got a chance to talk to you at all today, what is up with you?” he asked. 

“Why don’t you ask that pretty girl who was all over you earlier?” you spat back. 

“Who? Oh her. Okay look, it’s complicated. I doubt I can explain it to you right now.” he said, sighing. 

“Am I dumb? Chan, we don’t hide things from each other, so how come I’ve never heard of this girl before” you said, your sadness taking over. 

“Because she doesn’t matter and I’m stupid. C’mon let me take you back. I’ll explain everything, I promise. No secrets.” 

You conceded defeat. As he helped you up to leave, Baekhyun came upto him and said “You better take her home safe and take care of her or I’ll beat you up so bad. You made her cry, Chan, I hope you’re happy.” 

Chanyeol looked between the two of you, not knowing what to say. Finally, he spoke up, “Yes. I’ll take her home safe. Thank you for being a good friend Baek.” he said, sincerely. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you got home and got changed, with Chanyeol’s help, you sat him down on your couch. Sipping water slowly from a cup helped you sober up slightly. “Care to explain ?” you said. 

“Yes. I’m sorry I made you cry, I’m sorry I ruined your mood and hurt your feelings, that was not my intention. I just wanted to make you feel jealous and that backfired. I should’ve been more sensitive to your feelings- ” he said, before you cut him off. 

“Jealous?” you asked in a quiet voice. 

“Yeah. If it wasn’t obvious...” he trailed off, trying to steel himself before he continued, “I really like you. Like, a lot a lot. And I didn’t know how to go about tell you I should’ve just straight up told you. I was so immature, now that I look back at the evening. I’m sorry, love. If you chose not to forgive me, I understand. If you don’t feel the same, I understand that as well.” he finished, his eyes trained on you. 

You were stunned to say the least. You had planned so much to say to him when you were going to confess, but now your mind was blank. 

“You idiot.” you managed to croak out, before reaching forward and placing your lips on his. You’d imagined your first kiss with him in a lot of different ways, but never like this. He was surprised initially, but gave in and pulled you close. Your hand slowly sneaked around his neck and into his hair. He grabbed your legs and helped you straddle him, as your lips moved over his. Pulling away, your chest heaved as you tried to decipher his expression. 

“Wha- What does that mean?” he asked softly, searching your face for answers.

“I like you like a lot a lot, you damn fool. I was going to confess to you tonight, but then you had to go and bring that girl. “ you said, red rising in your cheeks.

His mouth went from an ‘O’ shape to a full blown smile when your words sunk in. He pulled you close to him and buried his face in your neck, laughter rising from his throat. 

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” he asked. 

“Why didn’t YOU tell me earlier, instead of resorting to silly measures to make me jealous?” you retorted. 

He pulled away and held your face in his hands. “I’m sorry, love. I truly am. But I’m so grateful that you like me back. So let me ask, will you go out with me?” 

“Yes, a thousand times yes!” you said and he pulled you in for another kiss. He didn’t hesitate this time, tasting you with a curiosity you had never imagined. His warm breath fanned over your face, as you continued to kiss, sending shivers down your spine. He moaned as his mouth moved over yours, which drove you wild. Pulling apart, he began trailing kisses down your chin and down to your neck, where he continued to taste your skin. The way he nibbled at your neck caused you to moan and tug at his hair. Satisfied with this mini adventure, he pulled away. 

“Are we, I mean, did I move too fast? I’m so sorry if that was not what you wanted, I will just stop-” he said, realising what he had just done. 

“Babe, Chan, relax. I wanted this. I’ve been wanting this, and more for a while now. I’ll tell you if we’re going too fast, okay?” you said, trailing your fingers through his hair. 

“How long have you liked me? If you’ve been wanting ‘more’ ” he asked, cheekily.

“Remember that time when you helped me stack the paper cups for Baekhyun’s birthday, and it kept falling over, so you carried me so I could reach the top? From then. That entire party planning experience basically had me whipped for you. Weird, I know.” you said shyly. 

“Did Baekyun hire cupid or something because that’s around when I fell for you too! This is crazy. He even told me to confess to you after that party.” 

“He told me to confess too! Baekhyun didn’t hire cupid, he is cupid.” 

“Well, we have one friend to thank tomorrow morning, provided we can get out of bed.”

“Oooh what did you have in mind?” you asked, wiggling your eyebrows. 

“I thought we could watch Ghibli movies” he said, faking innocence. 

“Chanyeolllll !” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You can find my masterlist here. 

[southside-jess-blog]

All Snakes Have A Soft Underbelly - Sweet Pea Imagine (Part Five - FINALE)

Masterlist

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Tag List: @the-greatt-perhaps @love-your-little-thingss @euphoricmads @sataninsatin @aframeofbones @the-sun-is-dark @rissamonique97 @skeletoresinthebasement @late-night-tragedy @lilp2018 @squ-z @hiighdeex3 @luiza-4-ever 

Initially requested by @madamzeyl & @love-your-little-thingss

Warnings: Mild swearing

Author’s Note: Not much Sweet Pea in this one, but it is a closing chapter for the story. I hope you enjoyed it, thank you so much for the amazing amount of support that I have got for this series. I am going to work on a few individual requests before I start up the next series again, thank you once again! X

Word Count: 1,767

I cherished the freedom of the open road as I sat in the back of FP’s truck, my sights set on the trees that adorned the sides of the road, illuminated by the moonlight. My long hair moving with the wind that created a chill within the vehicle. Sweet Pea’s hand lay resting on my thigh, drawing small circles through the denim fabric of my jeans. No one spoke a word, not even of the nights events, all we could hear was the sound of the engine and Pea’s motorcycle rattling around in the trailer.

Although I was at comfort, I still couldn’t help but feel slightly tense, as if I was fourth wheeling on the three men in the car. FP and Jughead kept looking back at me through the rear view and wing mirrors respectively, a mixture of sorrow and guilt in their eyes, as if they blamed themselves for what had happened. Each time they did this, I pretended as if I didn’t notice but the one time that I caught FP’s eye, he looked away from me at the speed of light, causing me to sink down into my seat.

The horizon was irradiated by the time that we drove into the familiarity of Riverdale, a wave of liberation flooding through my body as we approached the Whyte Wrym. Sweet Pea removed his hand from my thigh, lacing his fingers through my own. It was now that I turned my head away from the window, looking at him to see an uplifting smile on his face. His mouthed ‘are you ok?’ and I simply nodded before looking down at our connected hands, tightening the grip.

I’m safe.

I fluttered my eyelids open, the interior of the Whyte Wyrm entering my eyesight. The natural light causing my eyes to shut quickly and adjust after being shadowed in darkness whilst I slept. I pushed myself up from the uncomfortable position that I had found myself in on the couch. Unsure of how I got here, my questions were answered as I saw FP and Jughead sat by the bar, FP with a half-empty bottle of beer and Jughead with a glass of coke. They were sat in silence, staring at the surface in front of them. Raising to my feet, I walked over to them before pulling out a stool and sitting in between them, it was only then that they noticed I was awake.

“How are you feeling?” I turned to Jughead to find him staring at me intensely.

“I’m good, feeling much better after that nap” I looked over my shoulder, looking around the bar, “where’s Pea?”

FP sighed next to me, my attention turning to him. “He went home”. I sighed quietly, I have to admit that I am a bit upset that he isn’t here. “I needed to talk to you about something”.

My eyebrow raised in confusion and interest, my silence signalling for the man to continue. As he did, he let out a long breath, looking over to Jughead who I saw nod at his dad in the corner of my eye before he spoke.

“You moving here… it was a complete shock, for you especially, but also for me”. He looked me in the eyes, his hand twitching as if he wanted to hold onto mine but scared to initiate it, so I took matters into my own hands – literally – as I cupped his hand amongst mine, his rough fingertips rubbing against the palm of my hand. “You see…” His Adam’s apple moved as swallowed harshly, a single drop of sweat rolling down the side of his face. “I knew you, before you moved away from Riverdale. I knew your mom before you were born. Quite well, actually”. His eyes left mine and he looked down to watch our hands. “God this is more difficult than I thought it would be”, he mumbled under his breath, I wasn’t sure if I was meant to hear it, but I did. I was trying to add everything that he had said so far together in my head, thinking about my childhood, faded memories slowly coming back into colour. A familiar face being a common occurrence in those memories, my eyes scanned over FP’s, minus the stubble and a few wrinkles from age, the resemblance was uncanny.

“When your mother called to tell me that you were coming home. I felt full again, like all the shit I’ve been through in my life had been worth something. My girl was coming home”. I felt my eyes widen as he spoke these words, everything adding up in my mind. “And when I saw you get out of that car, I knew that you were so special. I had to make up for the 15 years of your life that I had missed, which I guess explains why I so quickly took you under my wing”.

I felt so comfortable around FP, from the moment that I arrived in Riverdale that was some sort of familiarity whenever I was around him, despite him being, what I thought, a complete stranger. I looked over at Jughead looking for him to confirm what I was speculating in my head, but he avoided eye contact.

“When I got that call from Penny, I felt broken again. I had just got you back and the thought that I could have lost you again absolutely tore me to pieces”. Another tear fell from his eyes, but he didn’t make an effort to hide this one.

It’s so difficult to say this straight up but I’m going to, please just hear me out before you react. If you want to leave, I’ll understand, but please just let me finish”. His eyes went back to my own, searching mine as his were full of fear. “I’m your dad, Y/N”. He used his hand that wasn’t held between mine to wipe away a tear that escaped from his eye, his voice cracking slightly as he continued to speak.

“And I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you”. I leaned closer to him, releasing his hand, moving my arm to wrap it around his waist, resting my head on his shoulder, rubbing his back in an attempt to soothe him.

“I was there as much as I could have been when you were young, but life got in the way, I pushed you and your mother away and I have been full of regret since the day that you left”.

It all made so much sense in my mind. In all of my years on this planet, I had never allowed myself to become comfortable around people so quickly, it explains why FP and Jughead were so different, the underlying family bond that was undoubtedly within me. The memories came flooding back from my early childhood, memories that I had forgotten after so long were now so prominent within my mind.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t realise the two pairs of eyes burning into my skin. I looked at the two people next to me, a warm feeling as I made eye contact with them both individually. I couldn’t hide the smile that crept up onto my face. I looked at Jughead.

“So… that means your my…”

“brother. Yeah” The most genuine smile that I had ever seen appeared on his face, the warm feeling only intensifying. I was lost for words; my life had changed within moments, but it didn’t feel like it had. It felt like I had known this for years, but I guess that came with the fact that I had already developed such a close relationship with the two of them, but now I know exactly why that was.

Unsure of what to say, I removed my arm from my dad’s waist (so weird but feels so right to think) before embracing my newly-found brother in my arms. Hugging him tightly as I buried my head in his neck, his arms only pulling me closer to him causing me to shift to the edge of the stool that I had been sat on. I pulled away after what felt like ages before turning and hugging my dad, my neck becoming damp as his tears continued to fall from his eyes. I rubbed his back once again to soothe him. I pulled away from the hug, a huge smile on my face as I looked in his eyes before sitting back down on the stool beside me.

“We have so much to catch up on” My dad let out a short chuckle, shaking his head as he walked behind the bar to grab us a drink each, as I was already deep in conversation with Jughead about the 15 years that we lived without each other.

I had been at the Wyrm all day that when it came to me eventually leaving, the bar was pitch black as we hadn’t noticed the nightlife taking over from the day as we were deep in conversation. I was dropped off at Sweet Pea’s trailer, noticing that the main lights were also off but the illuminations from the TV screen were visible through the cracks within the curtains.

Weary of the fact that Sweet Pea may be asleep, I put my key in the lock and turned it as cautiously as possible before walking in slowly, looking towards the living room to see that Sweet Pea was already on his feet facing me as I walked in. Before I could get settled, I was secure within his embrace. I snaked my hands up his back, pushing on the back of his neck forcing him to lean down and connect his lips with mine. I deepened the kiss slightly before we both pulled away from each other, our foreheads rested against each other as we stared deeply into each other’s eyes.

I leant back slightly, my hands connected behind his back whilst his rested on my bum.

“Life feels so good right now”. Despite everything that had happened within the past 48 hours, I felt perfect, like everything fell into place. In the craziest of circumstances, I gained a father and a brother. My life felt complete again, despite me never really realising that it had some emptiness.

I kissed him once but we both allowed for this one to deepen, eventually leading us to the bedroom where we made up for the time we lost during our brief separation.

Life is good, the darkness turned into light. And I am happy. That’s all that matters.

Thank you for supporting this series! I hope you liked it! X