#can you tell th areas where i WANTED TO BE DONE this took too long its been years since i drew regularly i have lost my SPEED

[eshidu]

my dear friend @painted-bees has such a cute beesona, i wanted to try and make my own! UwU

[morganski-19]

The One Where Family Visits

Nancy and Robin are sitting on the couch in the coffee house when three people walk in. They spot Nancy and wave, trying to get her attention.

“Mike?” Nancy says when she sees them. Standing up and walking over to them. “I didn’t know you were coming to visit?”

Mike hugs Nancy. “Yeah, we thought we’d surprise you.”

Nancy moves over to hug Will and El as well. “I hope you don’t need a place to stay. I don’t have a guest room anymore.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “We’re staying with Jon and Argyle.”

“You know,” Will interjects. “Because they have the guest room now. Finally.”

Nancy snorts. “I know right. Be quiet about that, though. Not everyone knows.”

El rolls her eyes. “I don’t understand why they are being so secretive.”

“They’re not really. Our friends can be ignorant sometimes.”

“Speak for yourself,” Eddie scoffs. Having joined the group and no one notices. Dressed in his work uniform. “I figured it out before you did.”

Nancy looks at him confused. “When? I thought I was the first to know.”

“About a week after it happened, me and Argyle were getting high and he told me everything. Made me promise not to tell.”

“You mean I could have talked to you about this for months now, but you let me suffer in silence.” Nancy pushes Eddie’s arm.

Eddie laughs. “Yes.” He turns his attention to Mike. “It’s nice to see you.” He claps Mike’s shoulder.

“You too, man. This is Will, my boyfriend, and his sister, El.”

“Nice to meet you guys. I have to go, but let me know if you want anything.”

Nancy shakes her head. “Don’t do that unless you want really shitty coffee.”

“I’m getting better,” Eddie yells over his shoulder while walking back to the bar.

Steve is sitting there, mindlessly stirring his drink while waiting for Eddie to get back. They immediately engage in a hushed conversation.

Mike rolls his eyes. “Is that Steve?”

“Yes,” Nancy sighs.

“They a thing?”

“I really have no clue. They’ve been like this since they met.”

Nancy leads them over to the sitting area, making Robin move to the table. She sits on the armchair while the three of them sit on the couch.

“Mom tell you she moved out?”

“Yeah,” Nancy breaths out. “And that dad was not happy about it.”

Mike scowls. “Well, he can suck it up. Maybe he’ll finally get off his ass and do something for once.”

“Mike,” Will scolds.

“What? He’s my own dad, I can complain about him all I want.”

“And it’s not like he’s wrong,” Nancy adds. “The first time he realizes that his laundry doesn’t get done without him doing it, he’ll fall apart.”

“It won’t even take that long,” Mike continues. “The first morning when he has to brew his own coffee, he’ll be begging mom to come back.”

They laugh.

“So, are you seeing anyone?” he asks with a leading tone.

“Who told you?” Nancy sighs.

“Argyle,” Will says. “He really can’t keep his mouth shut.”

Robin gets up from the table, and goes to sit next to Steve at the bar. Nancy watches her, confused.

“He didn’t tell me,” El says, hurt. “I want to know.”

Nancy smiles. She pulls out her phone and pulls up a photo they took on their last date. “His name is Ryan.”

Mike takes the phone, nodding slightly. Showing it to Will and El. El takes the phone to look at it closer. “He’s cute,” is all she says.

“I’m hoping he’s better than all the other guys you tried dating.”

Nancy scoffs. “I wouldn’t still be seeing him if he wasn’t. It’s been going well.”

El hands back her phone with a smile. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you, El.”

“Can I meet him?” Mike asks. “Give him the talk.”

Will snorts. “Like that will go well.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“When has you trying to be intimidating ever ended in you not getting laughed at?”

Mike rolls his eyes again. “Oh, shut up. I can be intimidating when I want to.”

“I don’t know,” Jonathan interrupts. Him and Argyle having come in while they were talking. “You trying to give me the shovel talk when I was dating Nancy wasn’t that intimidating.”

“I was also like seventeen.”

“So what?” Jonathan shrugs, the two of them moving around the couch to sit at the side table. “How was the drive?”

“Long,” Will says, annoyed.

“You slept most of the time.” El looks at him. “It was me and Mike driving.”

Will shakes his head. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t think it was long.”

“The room, and couch,” Argyle says to El. She does a little nod. “Are both ready for you. So you can come over anytime.”

“Can that be now, I need a nap,” Will asks. Yawning dramatically.

Mike rolls his eyes, again. “We’ll be here all week,” he tells Nancy. “Let us know if you want to do dinner or anything.”

“Maybe with Ryan,” El adds, hopeful.

Nancy laughs. “He hasn’t even met these guys yet, but I will see if he wants to meet you. And I’ll text you about dinner.”

The group leaves the coffee shop, heading over to the street where Mike parked his car. “So,” he says toward Argyle. “Did you do your search on this Ryan?”

“I did,” he says, proud. “Nothing suspicious to report. Literally nothing. The guy has a reddit that had nothing on it."

"Jesus,” Will exhales.

Mike stops before he gets in the car. “Wait a second. You didn’t know me when Will and I started dating. Did you do a deep dive on me?”

“You don’t want to know the answer to that question.”

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low,

@thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady,

@apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic,

@fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging,

@potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @gregre369

@my2amgaythoughts, @ellietheasexylibrarian, @emmabubbles, @eriquin, @grtwdsmwhr

@croatoan-like-its-hot, @dreamercec, @dreamy-jeans137, @morallyundefined

[breathlessheartbeat]

The Bog Witch's Apprentice

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Out of all stupid choices she'd ever done in her life, getting an apprentice had to be the worse.

Marcia had never had the motherly instincts. When you have demon blood, that was just how it went. Her own mother hadn't been all too happy to find her decapitating critters in the woods as a child and got rid of her as soon as she legally could. From there, she had been content in living the old bog witch stereotype.

But the modern day took a lot out of witches. Sometimes, all you wanted was for someone else to watch the brew while you go get a bagel. You also got to monologue to someone other than your familiar, which you could then pass off as education. So she agreed to try this apprentice thing.

The other wtiches in her coven had gotten educated little things that politely did everything they asked and never got in the way. But being the bog witch that she was, of course she had to grab a reject that had a lot of raw power and terrible attitude, a deadly combination. In her defense, said reject had red hair, a personal weakness.

Marcia had told Penelope so many times to NOT do anything on Halloween... she thought she'd gotten through that thick skull. But wouldn't you know it? She was in the coven Hallows' Eve mixer, waiting for Penelope to show her stupid face so she could brag about her like the other witches were doing when the shop clerk from the shop they got supplies from came to ask her how the summoning had gone. When she pointed out she hadn't had a summoning, he told her about the copious amount of salt and herbs Penelope had purchased a couple days ago. Clear ingredients for a summoning.

So now Marcia was running through the bog in heels (the vallet had taken too long to find her broom).

A green light was coming from inside the windows, which usually wouldn't be worrisome coming from her house, but she was out here. There shouldn't be any magic going on inside.

She tried the front door. Locked. Smart devil.

Marcia climbed the log house on the side and climbed up to the loft window (fine, she used some levitating magic to get there, she wasn't as young as she used to be!).

Once she stepped inside, every hair on her body stood on end. The scent of sulfur filled the cottage. The light was coming from right below the loft area.

Downstairs, a circle had been drawn with black salt on the stone ground. Protection runes too. On any other day, something that might be able to protect her apprentice. But with the veil between realms so thin... if you called... anything could answer, even if you were very specific about who you wanted to summon. And in the middle of the circle, where she should most definitely not be, was her apprentice.

When you did a protection circle, it kept the bad things inside. Rule number one was to never break it, lest something can escape into the world.

Implicit number zero was to never go inside the circle. Because, well, you could end up floating several feet off the floor and emitting green light out of your mouth and eyes.

"Finally, young witch..." Came a voice from Penelope's mouth that did not belong to her throat. It was raspy and grovely, like it came from inside a deep pit and not a thin goth girl. "I was growing impatient."

As if this night couldn't get any worse.

"Dad," she told the demon inside her apprentice. "Get out of my apprentice! How many times do I have to tell you not to do that shit?"

"Oh, but she made it so inviting... passage into the house of my own flesh and blood? Inside of the dwelling of the one I could possess without damaging...? The one who has shunned m out? I could not pass on the opportunity."

Ugh, this again?

"You can't possess me without my consent, you bag of farts. I told you this already. Many times. Leave me alone."

"I am nothing if not patient, child. But... I do believe it is of your interest to hear me out now."

"And why is that?"

Though she had remained perfectly still where she was, floating there, there was a twitch to Penelope's chest then. Then another. Her right shoulder jerked once, then again. Then her left. Her fingers closed, then opened.

And when smoke started to get out from her open mouth, Marcia noticed something she hadn't before.

Penelope wasn't breathing.

"Let. Her. Go!"

"Oh, she fought valliantly, this little apprentice of yours... She's a tough one, I'll give you that. She thinks so highly of you too... But I am beyond human will, child, and you only delay the inevitable by fighting me."

She struggled to think. How to get rid of him, how to banish him while he was still inside Penelope? She couldn't. Not without...

Oh.

"You know I shall consume anything I possess... except the child made from my own blood and bone. If you allow me your body... I can let your feeble one go," the devil continued, unaware of her train of thought. "She doesn't have much time. Hearts and lungs nowadays are not what they used to be... Cellular phones and whatnot".

Penelope gasped, her abdomen trembling as more and more smoke gathered around her floating body, stopping around the limits of the circle. She could see the thumping of her heart on Penelope's neck, almost like a quick throb. She didn't doubt her father was telling the truth.

"Get in the circle, child. There is no need for this one to die."

She had a plan. It wasn't a good plan. But it was a plan. Marcia climbed down the ladder that brought her down and started walking around the salt circle.

"If I say yes... you promise to get out of Penelope's body?"

"Yes."

"And you promise to stay in your new body forever?"

"Yes."

Marcia stopped by her table, swiping a bottle into her pocket.

"Alright. I say yes. I'm getting into the circle."

The took one deep breath, whispered a blessing and stepped inside.

The wind took her by surprise. Once inside, it felt like she had stepped out into a storm. The smoke that billowed out of Penelope was swirling around the circle, as if trying to find an out. Her head was tilted back, her eyes rolled back, no longer glowing. Her limbs were twisted backwards, as if something was trying to escape her chest.

Marcia opened the bottle on her pocket, dropped the contents into a hankerchief and jumped up, grabbing Penelope by the shoulder with one arm.

"What are you...?" Said the voice of her demon father.

"Quiet!" She pressed the chloroform rag against Penelope's face.

Here's the danger with chloroform and why people shouldn't use it like they do in the movies: it messes with people's blood pressure, which affect the brain. This was a calculated risk though, in this case.

She pressed it into Penelope's nose and open mouth, holding it tight in place. Her body fought her, arms and legs thrashing, but already too weak to fight her. Smoke escaped between the fibers of the hankerchief and her fingers, burning her skin. They both fell from where they were floating onto the floor.

Beneath her arms, Penelope gasped once, then twice, the sound too awful for her to focus on. This went on for entirely too long. In real life, it takes at least five minutes for this to take. But Penn was already weak from the possession. Under her arm, she felt her chest struggle, her diaphragm work, and then... nothing.

Her apprentice had stopped moving. She waited a few more seconds, just to make sure. The smoke stopped. The green light winked off and suddenly the cottage was dipped in darkness.

"Sorry, Penn," She murmured. "Almost done, I promise."

She let her go, laying her on the ground. Penelope looked asleep, if a little pale. There was a pang of regret in Marcia's heart, but she pushed it back. No time to waste. She could lecture the girl once she was back.

Marcia ran to her table and looked over at the pots and cages. All of the animals had tried to hide themselves as far from the bars as they could, except for one. Edgard, the toad. It had been the worst witch toad she'd ever gotten and yet it refused to die. It was a great candidate.

"Lucky day for you, Edgard," she grabbed it's cage and brought it with her. She place it inside the circle, then carefully lifted Penn up and carried her out, laying her on the floor outside the black salt circle. Pulling out her knife -- every witch who was someone carried a knife at all times -- she did a small cut to the tip of her finger. Witches in movies needed to stop slicing he middle of their hands to draw blood. The magic of the movies was the only way they didn't lose movement in their fingers by slicing something important.

"Open up, Edgard," she pried the toads mouth open and squeezed a drop of blood in there. The toad blinked at her, completely unbothered by it as if it was used to consuming human blood. The witch tried not to think about that. "Now you get to live forever."

Finally, she turned to Penelope, who was still unmoving as a broken doll on the floor. She rubbed her hands together and huffed on them to try and gather some warmth into them. With her mind to the moon and her feet pointing north, she moved her hands in circles.

"You told me to get into the circle and into the circle I went," she told the cold air of the cottage. "And if i said yes, then your posession would end."

Penelope moved. But it was only her body. Light escaped under her closed eyes.

"A deal was forged and a deal was made. A new body for you to take. One with a drop of demon blood which you can never leave, no more."

And as a serpent charmer, the smoke started billowing out of Penelope's agape mouth as a small twisting cloud. Small retching sounds came from her throat, her chest trembling as the possession let go of her. Whispers of doom and eternal damnation filled Marcia's ears, but she kept repeating her words, willing it her way. A promise had been made and it needed to be kept. The demon would be trapped into that immortal toad and they would be long gone until he was a problem again.

Guiding the cloud, she forced it into the circle and into the cage and into the toad whose glowing eyes were the only indication something was happening to it as the smoke entered every pore in its body. It croaked and then fell quiet.

It was done.

Marcia stood, heaving. She was sweating like she'd been running, though it was cold in here.

"Penn," she murmured, running to the side of her apprentice.

Now the demon was gone, she looked sickly. Her eyes were set deep into her face, deep dark spots under them that hadn't been there when they'd seen each other that morning. Her lips were chapped, like she was dehydrated and her skin was coated with cold sweat.

When Marcia touched her face, she could feel no breathing coming out of her mouth or nose.

"Come on, come on, Penelope," she murmured, pressing two fingers to her throat. Not a tap came to meet her. Shouldn't be a surprise and still...

Bog witches were decay witches. Unlike kitchen witches and their potions or green witches and their healing salves, they kept millenar secrets as they sunk beneath their land. They bore witness to the passage of time.

To safe a life... might be beyond her. But for Penelope... she might give it a try. If anything, just to give out the biggest I told you so in existence.

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

Every so often I will write something meaning it to be a resus scene and then I just do a big plot and introduction... and run out of steam when I get to the resus. I thought I'd post it either way in case someone likes it!

[sailorshadzter]

Can we get tourist! Sansa asking Jon for direction and Jon (like the fool he is) pretends to know the way even though he is also a tourist and just arrived there like 1 minute ago? #TheyBothFailedGeography

WHEW. this has been in my inbox for... well... ever lol

i realized as i wrote it you said "tourists" specifically but as always, i tend to just let the writing flow and this is where this piece went.

tbh i really wanted to finish it with sansa walking into class and jon is the professor! BUT i know teacher x student isnt for everyone, so i left that out. but you know... if anyone wanted to read that.... 👀

anyways! hope you see this anon since it's been so long lol

send me prompts

The street is busy and she’s lost. 

Miserably lost, really, considering it took her ten minutes or more just to get back to where she was now. That place seemed to be the center of the town, a small courtyard with buildings on all sides, various businesses and the like. She sighs, deciding she might as well just ask the next person she sees for directions on how to get down to the university. 

She’s come South to attend the prestigious King’s Landing University, but she’s come alone, for her family’s busy lives barely left time for dinner at five, let alone taking their oldest daughter out of the kingdom. Besides, she was an adult, she could do this on her own without a problem. Right? 

Right.

Across the way stands a man as equally as lost. 

He’s lived North his whole life, but has come South to take what he hopes to be a lucrative job at the local university. But, he’s not expected such a large, crowded area- and truth was, he’s never been great at directions. Giving or understanding. How such a large university could be so hard to find is beyond him. He sighs, a stream of curses racing through his mind as he spins back, thinking for a moment he might just ask someone for directions, but then he’s caught off guard by the sight of the young woman just a few yards away. 

She’s the most beautiful woman he��s ever seen, with long red hair that falls down her back nearly to her waist, black sunglasses perched carefully atop her head. Her jeans hug her hips perfectly and her little pink tee shows off just a thin line of her well toned abdomen. And to his absolute shock, she’s walking his way. “Excuse me,” she says in a Northern accent and at this distance, Jon can see she has the loveliest blue eyes he’s ever had the privilege of looking into. “Could you happen to tell me the way to the main campus of the university?”

Suddenly, he’s quite forgotten that he doesn’t even know the way either, because he swallows, nodding. “Yes, I can,” he says without hesitation, with a sense of confidence he shouldn’t feel. “This way,” he goes on, gesturing for her to follow after him the one way he’d not yet gone. “Just moved here, I take it?” He asks as they walk, to which she nods, rosy lips grinning. “Me too, a few weeks ago.” If by weeks he meant days, then yeah, he wasn’t really lying. “I’m Jon. Jon Snow.” 

“You’re from the North?” She asks, though his accent is unmistakable, quite like her own really. “I’m Sansa… Sansa Stark.” Of course, at once, he knows who she is- the daughter of the Lord of Wintefell, a man as good as King in the North, as it had been thousands of years ago. A man close knit with King Robert, serving as Hand to the King, even from a distance. “I’ve come to attend the university.” 

“Small world! I’ve just gotten a job there,” he says as they walk and to his relief, he notices the signs for the university pointing in the direction they’re heading. Somehow, by the grace of the gods, he’s done it. “Here we are,” they’re approaching the main campus walkway now and he slows to a stop, pointing at the double doors just up ahead. “Maybe I’ll see you around, Sansa,” she likes the way he says her name and she smiles, brushing a lock of hair across her shoulder as she nods. 

“Maybe you will,” she replies before she passes him by, stopping as she opens the door to cast one last look his way. 

And then she’s gone, but certainly not forgotten.

[passerine-writes]

Silent Sparks - Volt 80

Warnings: More angst, a lot of medical and hospital stuff (i am NOT a medical professional, i’ve merely had bad experiences with doctors), talk of de*th, ptsd and a flash back, some fluff because I couldn’t bring myself to write all angst, we get back to business in the next chapter Word count: 4720

Notes: Italics - Tsukare signing Bold italics - Family member/friend signing 'Italics with apostrophes' - Thoughts

Masterlist

Volt 79 | Volt 81

The first thing Tsukare felt was the fog clearing in his head, the weight lifting off of his body ever so slightly. Then he fully felt someone holding his hand, it was no longer the sensation of it barely existing, he could feel the warm and comforting touch. Slowly, he peaked open his eyes, adjusting to the bright light of the room. Taking a shaky breath, he slowly took in the familiar surroundings of a hospital room before saying something.

“I’m never going in a vent system again.” Tsukare mumbled with a hoarse throat. He saw several people in the room. Dad, Pops, Hitoshi and Denki. Denki was already holding his hand when his Pops rushed over and cupped his face, slowly taking the oxygen mask off and setting it to the side.

“You scared us, little listener.” He said tearfully.

“I’m sorry. I heard most of what was said while I was out, I’m glad my plan worked.” Onryo managed to get out. His Dad held a cup of water for him with a straw and he gratefully took a sip. “How long have I been out?”

“Six days.” Denki said, making sure his lips could be read.

“Shit.” Tsukare muttered, the brain fog slowly lifting. “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t listen to my gut the right way, I had- I had a bad feeling. I wanted to find out why instead.” He said through heavy breaths, the weight not quite lifting.

“Don’t apologize for that. We’ve all done that. I’m just glad you’re alive.” He said, his face telling another story.

“Dad? What happened while I was out?” He asked, sitting himself up more, ignoring the pain in his side. Aizawa licked his lips nervously, eyes bouncing to Denki for a moment. You can say it in front of him. Tsukare signed loosely, knowing that’s where his current concern was being placed. He sighed and took a deep breath.

“Onryo, your heart stopped twice while they did surgery to find what was bleeding internally.” He said slowly while signing. It felt like the world stopped spinning on its axis, everything was now nothing and Onryo was floating in it.

“My heart problem caught up to me?” He asked weakly. Kaminari looked terrified hearing the news.

“The doctors said a lot of the stress caught up with your body, and mixing that with your heart problem..”

“It was a bad mix.” He finished for his Pops. He nodded slightly and I took a deep shaky breath. “How’re my ears?”

“Still the same. They took a look at everything and said the damage hasn’t changed.” Hitoshi said, finally speaking.

“What else happened?” He finally asked, knowing something else wasn’t being said.

“Can Onryo and I have a minute?” Aizawa asked, nobody argued with him. Denki gave Onryo a quick kiss on the cheek and left with Hitoshi and Yamada. Aizawa handed his son his hearing aids and watched as he slowly put them in. “I need to fill you in on the cover story.” Onryo simply nodded and paid attention to what he said. “You, Fatgum and everyone involved on the stake out were investigating a warehouse after getting intel that the Reservoir Dogs had a facility where they were illegally making drugs. You had a warrant and they sent you in to scoop out the area because of your quirk but there was a small leak in one of the gas lines. The fumes mixed with an open chemical and caused a chain reaction of explosions, trapping you inside.” Tsukare nodded along, the cover story not too far off of the real reason they were there. “The press was told that you’re in Matsushita Memorial Hospital, when in reality you’re in Hirakata City Hospital. That way in case they are trying to tail you, they’re led somewhere else. Fat Gum even talked to a reporter outside to make it more believable.” 

“And what’s the real story?” Tsukare asked, needing to know what happened after he blacked out.

“Three bombs went off before you fell into the rubble. Your left hand was crushed in a pile of concrete and breathing in the debris, you needed a few breathing treatments. Even though Nedzu was able to pull a few strings, it took about an hour for Higari to get out there with Tetsutetsu. After that, it didn’t take long to get you out but your breathing was labored and your heart was barely beating. We believe that the Hassaikai started keeping tabs on you and Fat Gum’s agency because of the bullet the criminal had at Kirishima’s debut.”

“Okay.” He whispered, taking in everything he said.

“You know what I’m going to say.” Aizawa solemnly stated.

“The only way I’m not going on this mission is if Nighteye or Fat Gum tells me I’m not.” He told his Dad sternly. He sighed and hung his head.

“Once you’re out of here, we’re sparring. If you’re in good enough shape to spar me, then you can go.” Tsukare rolled his eyes but nodded.

“Win or lose, I’m still going.” He stated, he was already too involved in this, he can’t miss the mission now.

“Onryo, you almost died, just like him.” He paused and took a strained breath. “When you said you didn’t think you would make it out of there, it felt like the world stopped. It terrified me. We already almost lost you once, and to go through that a second time, I couldn’t take it. I know this is how you and your brother and Sunshine have felt before, I’ve had that same feeling before with your Pops, but I was never prepared to feel that with you and Hitoshi.” He licked his lips nervously and Onryo simply let him take his time. Opening up never was any of their strong suits. “I don’t have a good feeling about you going on this mission. At all. I don’t. Between the Hassaikai tailing you and the League being involved, on top of the League having an interest in you, something’s not right. I know this won’t change your mind, but I needed you to at the very least hear me out.” Tsukare reached up to give him a hug, his arms wrapping around his fathers shoulders.

“I’ll be safe, Dad. I’m always as safe as I can possibly be. A mission isn’t going to scare me out of this. I want to help people. It’s my dream.” He lightly nodded and ran a hand over his sons hair tenderly.

“I know, kid.” He sighed and gave him a small pat on his head before answering the phone. He curtly hung it up and turned towards Onryo. “Fat Gum’s here to check on you, he should be up any-”

“Kid! You’re okay!” Fat Gum announced as he swung the door open. “Heard that you just woke up, so I had to stop in and see you!” 

“Hey Fat.” Onryo breathed out, giving him a weak smile.

“What’s the word? When you getting out of here?” He asked excitedly, clearly trying to keep his spirits up.

“I might be able to help with those questions. And you would be Tsukare Onryo, better known as Sonus, correct?” The topaz haired boy awkwardly nodded, Fat Gum giving him a firm pat on his shoulder before leaving. Yamada came in after him and sat beside Aizawa. “I’m sorry but per HIPAA laws, only immediate family is allowed in the room.” Onryo rolled his eyes and sighed, albeit a little dramatically.

“They’re my parents. Can we just hurry this up? I’m not a huge fan of hospitals.” She slowly nodded and stepped forward, closing the door behind her.

“I’m Doctor Endo, I assisted your surgeon in the operating room.” She went on to explain what his Dad did, about his hand and his heart, that he was in a medically induced coma, etcetera. “We currently have you on a saline drip to keep you hydrated and a naproxen drip to ease any pain or discomfort you might be feeling. And how does your hearing seem to be doing?” He stared at her blankly before taking out his hearing aids.

“It doesn’t seem like it’s changed, I still need these after all.” She awkwardly nodded and scribbled something on her clipboard.

“Alright, and do you feel any pain or discomfort?” He shook his head a little and popped his hearing aids back in. “Do you have any nausea, sensitivity to light, sensitivity to sound, head aches, blurred vision, or difficulty focusing?”

“No, I just have shortness of breath and withdrawal symptoms.” She looked at her chart quizzically, merely glancing at it before looking at his parents.

“I’m sorry, is he struggling with addiction currently?” She asked hesitantly.

“He’s on a few medications and addiction runs in his genetics. After being on certain things for so long, his body has grown a dependency on them.” She slowly nodded and looked through the chart more thoroughly.

“Okay, and uh, you said you were experiencing shortness of breath? Mind if I just take a listen real quick?” Tsukare simply nodded and let her untie the front portion of his hospital gown. He had the displeasure of watching her eyes widen in silent horror at what she saw. “Take a few deep breathes for me.” She mumbled, lip reading saving him from missing what she said. He followed her instructions as she moved the stethoscope across his chest. “It sounds like you still have some of the dust in your lungs, I’m going to get you started on oxyg-” She paused while looking at the oxygen mask set to the side. “Did someone come in and remove this already?” She quickly asked, grabbing the offending medical equipment.

“We took it off. I don’t wear masks, I have PTSD.” She managed to repress a scoff before turning to Tsukare with it.

“Unfortunately, you have to wear this if you want to get the debris out of your lungs. Just lean forward for me real quick.” She said in a tone you would use to get close to a scared animal.

“Just lean forward for me. That’s it.” Kasumi said in a sickly saccharine voice before Tsukare felt the metal over his mouth and the leather across his face.

Muted screams left his body with hyperventilation. His breathing short, eyes blurry.

‘Take it off.’

‘Take it off.’

‘I was good.’

‘I didn’t use my quirk.’

‘I promise.’

‘What did I do?’

‘Make it stop.’

He came out of the flashback with his hand gripping her wrist. Everyone in the room watched as he sat there unmoving.

“You are not putting that on me.” Onryo told her firmly, his voice cold, void of emotion.

“Onryo.” Yamada said gently, moving next to her and grabbing his sons hand. “Breathe. Breathe it out. You don’t have to put it on.” He said carefully, putting some distance between him and the doctor. Onryo took a shaky breath, his body starting to shake as well. “It’s okay, you don’t have to wear it.” 

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” He managed to whisper. He saw his Dad sign something but didn’t process it, only hearing the muffled click of the door opening. His brother and his boyfriend came in slowly, concern and confusion written all over their faces.

“Onryo. Are you alright waiting in here with Hitoshi and Kaminari? Your Pops and I need to have a word with the doctor outside.” Onryo nodded slightly, able to see the rage on his Dad’s face.

Aizawa and Yamada walked out into the hallway with Doctor Endo, it didn’t take long before the sound hero started tearing into her.

“I have half a mind to get you fired right now, lady! You had no right to try and force that mask on you, especially after he confided in you! Did you even go to med school? Pass your boards? Anything! We want to talk to your supervisor, now!” He demanded, livid that she set off one of his children into a state of panic.

“Sir, I understand your concern, but please understand where I’m coming from with this. He needs oxygen.” She tried to reason.

“Then I suggest you look at it from our perspective. One of our children almost died, his heart stopped. Twice. He’s already terrified of hospitals because most of the time you treat him as inhuman. You looked at him as if he was a monster back there. He told you no to an option because he has PTSD, you’re meant to search for another option unless you hit a dead end. Then you tried to force it on him physically. So I suggest that you direct us to one of your higher ups before you lose your job and your reputation because my husband and I are not afraid of socially humiliating you and elaborating on how ignorant your actions were today.” The doctor seemed to pale at Aizawa’s demeanor and started leading the parents towards the chiefs office.

“How mad are they?” Tsukare nervously asked his brother.

“They aren’t mad at you. They’re pissed with the doctor.” Shinsou explained, sitting in one of the chairs. 

Tsukare just sat there silently, shaking in his spot as Kaminari held one of his hands before he got an idea. He tapped on the back of his boyfriends hand, catching Onryo’s attention and making him weakly smile while he slid into the hospital cot beside him. An arm wrapped around the shorter boys shoulder and he curled into Kaminari’s side, melting into his warmth. Something he hasn’t realized he had been searching for until that moment. His breaths were still labored and his chest was heavy, but Kaminari was startled at how cold his boyfriend was. His boyfriend who normally ran warmer than a grandma’s oven during the holidays, was cold. He looked at Shinsou with wide eyes and mouthed a few simple words to him.

Get help.

In two seconds, Shinsou was out the door and to the nurses station, dragging a nurse back in with him. Denki slowly got up and sat next to his lover again, holding his hand gently.

“What seems to be the issue?” The nurse asked quickly, a young lady in her mid twenties, clearly meaning business as she thoroughly looked at his chart.

“I know this is going to sound crazy, but he’s cold.” The nurse looked at the blond confused. “He’s never cold. He’s having a hard time breathing and he’s freezing, something isn’t right.” Denki said, clearly distressed.

“Tsukare?” The nurse asked, getting a hum as a response. She grabbed her stethoscope and listened closely, eyes darting back and forth between the monitor and the boy on the cot. She hit the nurse station button, getting two more people in there immediately. “I need an oxygen mask and a crash cart, now!” She turned back to the teenagers frantically as she got her hair up and gloves on. “Both of you out, now, you don’t need to see this, where are his parents?”

“Our parents are talking to the chief cause the last doctor screwed up.” Hitoshi rushed out. Kaminari was already being ushered out by one of the nurses. “I’m not leaving, he’s my brother.”

“You aren’t going to help by being in here, kid. You need to get outside.”

“You can’t put a mask on him. He needs a cannula.”

“I promise you I know what I’m doing, your brother is in good hands.” She tried to reassure but he shook his head, shoving the hands of a nurse off of him.

“He has severe PTSD, you can’t put a mask on him. That’s why our parents are talking to the chief.” She looked at the other nurse and nodded.

“Okay, we’ll get him a cannula but you have to go wait outside.” Shinsou waited, eyes darting between his brother and the nurse but he finally caved and waited outside. The third nurse escorting him out.

“Hey, is there anything else we need to know?” The man that walked him out asked.

“He can’t have any opioids or addictive pain killers. He was born an addict. He has a heart arrhythmia and a history of blacking out.” The nurse nodded and stood up fully.

“I’ll let her know, you go to the nurses station and ask them to page the chief with a 911 and have your parents sent here.” Shinsou shot up and did just that.

“I can assure you, I hear your concern, but to further ensure the right thing happens-” The chief of surgery’s words slowly died off as he looked at his pager. “We need to continue this later, I just got paged a 911 for.. your son.” Aizawa and Yamada were running out the door and down to Tsukare’s room, finding their son and Kaminari sitting outside distraught.

“Hey, what happened? Tell us what’s going on.” Mic said, crouching down in front of the two.

“I noticed he was cold and he still wasn’t breathing right, so I told Shinsou to go get help.” Kaminari said tearfully. The parents shared a look and knew who had to sit with who. Aizawa sat beside his carbon copy while Present Mic sat beside Kaminari.

“I tried staying in there but they wouldn’t let me. I made sure to tell them to use a cannula and about his medical history.” Shinsou fully said, eyes blearily staring into the ground.

“You both did the right thing.” Aizawa told them sincerely. “When Onryo wakes up again, we’re going to talk to the chief again.” Kaminari and Shinsou nodded, waiting impatiently for the nurses to return. After another ten or so minutes, the door opened.

“Are you Tsukare’s father?” The nurse asked Mic.

“We both are.” She paused for a moment but nodded.

“Tsukare’s stable now. He wasn’t getting enough air, causing everything to slow down. We gave him some epinephrine, hooked him up to oxygen and he seems to be doing a lot better now. He’s already conscious if you’d like to go in.” Yamada thanked her and the four rushed inside.

“Hey.” He said weakly, taking a full breath that was only slightly labored. “Did I black out?” He asked, confused on what happened.

“You didn’t get enough air and it almost didn’t go well.” Aizawa filled in gently.

“Well shit.” He sighed out.

“Hi, Tsukare?” A new voice emerged from the doorway. A man stood there, waiting to come in until he was granted permission so he wouldn’t crowd the room. “I’m Doctor Hayashi. I heard you’ve had quite the turn of events today. How are you feeling?”

“I’m able to breathe easier, so I’m good.” He hummed and jotted something down in his clipboard. 

“I’ve been assigned your doctor for the rest of your stay here, I’m also a psychiatrist here at the hospital. Do you mind if we have a chat?” Tsukare scoffed and sat up a little straighter.

“I do mind, actually. Every time I’ve had to go to the hospital, someone calls to get me a psych check cause they think I’m being abused again. I’m not. They’re heroes. I’m a hero in training. They’re my family. I’m safe. And I’m tired of doctors starting to act like they actually give a shit. Where was that when I was actually being abused? When I wasn’t happy in a family that you now want to take me out of?” The doctor paused and stood there awkwardly.

“Tsukare, all I want to do is make sure you have the tools available to help you flourish in life.”

“And I do, that alone tells me you haven’t properly read my chart. I go to therapy regularly, I’m on ADHD meds, antidepressants that double for my anxiety, panic attack medication, I have several doctors I see to ensure I’m healthy. I have resources and I’m using them. Are we done?” Tsukare asked, exhausted at the situation.

“With the psychiatric portion, yes. For my sanity, I’d like to listen to your lungs and check everything over along with making sure you know how to use a nebulizer.” Tsukare gave him a curt nod and sat up a little straighter, going through everything he did earlier with the other doctor. “Alright, everything seems to be looking better already. Do you have any questions for me?”

“What’s my diet?” He asked weakly.

“I’m sorry?” The doctor asked, confused that a child would ask that question.

“I’m gonna be honest, doc, this isn’t my first trip to the hospital, and I doubt it’ll be the last. It’s not my first surgery. It’s not my first recovery. And when it comes to something serious, I’m very blunt and I’d appreciate that same courtesy.” He paused and took a deep breath. “So what’s my diet?”

“I’d like to place you on a liquid diet for a few days to see how you’re stomaching those then gradually get you back to solids.”

“Okay, and uh, when am I getting my meds?”

“Within the next hour. Anything else?”

“Yeah, how long am I staying here for?”

“I want to keep you here for two nights for observation, ensure that once we take you off of oxygen you’re still stable and monitor you.” Tsukare shot him a thumbs up and slowly sunk back into the pillows a bit.

“Sounds like a plan.” He muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“Then I’ll be on my way. Let me or one of the nurses know if you need anything.” Doctor Hayashi said before leaving.

“Pops, did you really have to show the picture of me to Denki?” He asked with a huff of breath for a laugh.

“It’s not a bad picture.” Yamada reasoned, slowly reaching up and ruffling his sons hair.

“And ADHD word play?” Everyone laughed hearing that, something that only had good memories associated with it.

Everyone sat and talked for a while, enjoying the moment of knowing Tsukare was alive and well. Aizawa managed to put a lid on his distaste for his son growing up and having a boyfriend, knowing it was one of the few things bringing him joy and sanity at the moment. Kaminari stayed until visiting hours were over, him and Shinsou going back to the dorms for the evening. Once visiting hours were over though, the chief of surgery came down and asked to have a word with the parents again.

“Can I come?” Tsukare asked.

“Uh, I’m sorry, but I think this conversation would be best kept between adults.” He tried to reason gently but Onryo wasn’t taking that as an answer.

“And it’s about me. My health and the fact that I almost died due to medical negligence is what’s being talked about. I should be involved and allowed to have some sort of say or input.” He quipped, the doctor looking at Aizawa and Yamada in confusion.

“He’s always been a strong medical advocate for himself, we’re not going to stop him from wanting to know directly what’s going on with him.” Aizawa explained tiredly.

“Very well, better to learn sooner rather than later, I suppose.” He awkwardly chuckled and led the three back to his office, Tsukare being pushed in a wheelchair by his Pops. “I would like to start by saying, I assure you that this will be taken care of accordingly. This won’t be overlooked. To prove my sincerity, Doctor Endo is on her way to apologize for what occurred earlier.��� Tsukare scoffed and waited until the door slid open to reveal the doctor from earlier, the girl looking nervous as she stepped into the room.

“I would like to formally apologize for my actions earlier, to you, the parents and to you, Tsukare. I handled that in a very unprofessional matter and I will ensure to do better in the future.” She said, her hands folded in front of her.

“I don’t believe you.” Tsukare stated dryly, everyone turning to him in disbelief.

“Now, son-”

“Don’t call me ‘son’.” Tsukare shot back to the chief. “That’s a bullshit, well rehearsed speech that every hospital makes staff learn in case something went wrong. Neither of you seem to be able to comprehend how horrific that was.” He turned his attention back to Doctor Endo. “I’m already terrified of going to hospitals. I grew up that way. But whenever I had to go, I always favored having a female doctor because compared to guys, you tend to look at the small things that may not matter. From my experience, woman take care of children at least a little better, and any time I’ve had a woman for a doctor they’ve been able to overlook me having two dad’s or being gay myself. Usually men get more dismissive and standoffish and overall perturbed at the fact unless they’re gay or want to think of themself as a cool bro-dad who’s cool with anything and everything under the sun. Doctor Endo, you lost my trust and respect today, and that’s not something easy to get back from someone. So aside from you getting clearly discomforted about me having two Dad’s, you couldn’t even try and hide the look of disgust and horror on your face when you saw my scars. But I still had a small amount of hope that you would be a good doctor towards me, despite the fact that you never even read my chart.”

“I’m sorry, but there’s no way for you to possibly know that.” The chief interjected, mildly offended at the child’s open statements.

“I told her I could feel my body going through withdrawal, her first question was if I was a recovering addict. If my family knows I have to go to the hospital, they bring my file with them to save time getting records from other hospitals and databases. It says in my file that I was born an addict because my birth mother was abusing opioids when she was pregnant with me. Aside from my list of medications, diagnoses and treatments, yeah, she didn’t read it.” The chief simply sat there in disbelief but didn’t say anything. “I was willing to overlook all of that. You knew I needed oxygen, and after I confided to you that I have PTSD, you brushed it off and tried to physically force it on me. You sent me into a flashback.” He said, his voice strained with emotion. “Do you have any comprehension how mentally taxing and debilitating those can be? I told you I took it off because I have PTSD and I don’t wear masks. I don’t wear masks because I was muzzled as a kid for a quirk I didn’t know how to control or because someone was in a bad mood. But to top it all off, you called for a psych eval after you were taken off my case, because instead of asking questions you assumed my parents were the one hurting me. So no, I don’t believe your rehearsed apology nor do I accept it.” The doctor looked ready to cry hearing that from a teenager.

“Tsukare, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I hope one day you can forgive me.” She said, her head hung in remorse.

“Doctor Endo, you’re free to leave. So, are we all done here?” The chief asked lightly, hoping that was the case.

“No, we’re not.” Aizawa said, turning back to the man in a white coat. “I’d like to request that you have all of your staff go through sensitivity training again, this time more thoroughly. What happened today was unacceptable. As parents, we put our trust in her because she was the main assisting surgeon for our son. Today, she simply traumatized him further. We don’t appreciate what her inability to be professional caused.”

The chief paled and knew this would be a long day.

[bravewolfvesperia]

Before Yuri could answer, Flynn had added on a mention about his baking. He smiled before looking away sheepishly and back to his dessert baking. "Th-Thanks... To be honest, I kinda have to sneak it sometimes 'cause I get told it's unfitting for someone of my status... or some of those guys will insist that's someone else's job. What am I supposed to do all day, stare at the ceiling? I have as much free time as I do money, and they tell me not to do this and that or anything else 'cause it's not royalty's job."

He was lucky he'd gotten a caretaker from the Lower Quarter, frankly. While he wanted to believe part of his openness and kindness toward those in the poorer areas of Zaphias would have always been natural to him, he was sure having been raised in the care of someone from the area helped. Having knowledge on their living conditions and being able to see it for himself helped with what he was "supposed" to do as royalty, anyway.

Come to think of it, what did the council members even do in their free time? No wonder they were all so miserable. They behaved like everything that existed was below their station, and so stuck their noses up at any opportunity to be a person. They simply mingled with each other and showed off their wealth. Most likely, that was what they expected from their royalty, too.

There had been a time where, because of things like that, Yuri had wondered how Jiri got her position in the castle. Surely they wouldn't normally let someone "filthy and poor" into the castle period, let alone as the underaged royalty's caretaker. When he got older though, he could see it. The kind of person she was. How strong and unrelenting she was in the face of even the most judgmental and influential asshole nobles. How the looks she gave them made them realize that unlike them, she had real world experience. That they were dealing with someone who didn't play "politics" and could snap their fragile egos in half.

Yuri shook his head, not wanting to damper the mood on Flynn. "Ah-... Sorry, you were asking if there was something you could do, right?" He knew better than to tell Flynn to sit and do nothing while he was working on something. There was always that part of Flynn that was still the prince's personal guard... and just like he wouldn't want to be standing by doing nothing himself, he wouldn't ask that of Flynn.

He looked around at the counters and what was in front of him, sorting together the thing he was still using, and separating them from the dishes he'd used for the cupcakes. "Here, can you clean these? Just the dishes from what I already used for now. I'll let you know when I'm done with the stuff in front of me and then I'll pass them to you. I'm not about to leave a bunch of dirty dishes for Jiri or Hanks to come home to."

Some nights Jiri didn't come back, of course. Some nights she stayed at the castle in her own room there. Usually Hanks took care of things in the meantime with the kids here, or another member of the community helped out. Things like that made Yuri jealous, honestly. There were many days he wanted to just... disappear from the castle and stay here. Maybe not at this exact orphanage since he didn't want to just walk in on the kids like that, but in the Lower Quarter in general.

If he asked if he could stay here, he knew the answer would be a no. Even if it was Jiri, she knew she'd be in trouble with the higher ups if she let him. Worse, it could reflect badly on Flynn for not stopping him or not being there to stop him (as if Flynn didn't have his own life to attend to sometimes...). Asking the higher ups would just be a flat out no, because it was unbecoming of royalty of mingle with "dirty, infested rats". As long as their answer was no, he couldn't risk Jiri or Flynn getting in trouble for allowing him to.

But then, he couldn't just disappear from the castle and sneak out for days on end. There would be an uproar and a panic. Searches would be ongoing until he was found, and if they found out the truth of what he'd done, he was... honestly? Truly? Terrified of what would happen to him. Not that he expected them to torture him or throw him the dungeon or something, but... they would likely lock him in his room, as close to literally as possible. Worst case scenario, quite literally by changing the lock on his door and trapping him in his room for who knew how many months.

That didn't stop Yuri from voicing his desire to Flynn though as he continued his baking work. "I wish we could stay here. They don't have a lot of necessities that they should have, and when they do, not in enough abundance... but they're happy people. I wish I could stay here with you and raise these kids with you and Jiri-baasan." While Flynn did live here technically, his usual residence was the castle now. It, well, had to be. If something happened to Yuri, Flynn would be the first one blamed if he wasn't at Yuri's side when it happened.

No, no, he was trying not to damper the mood, wasn't he? But he couldn't help the twinges of jealousy he felt at not being able to have a life like this. The court would laugh at the very idea, but... to Yuri, this was what a happy family looked like. "Uh... sorry again. Just... I'm really happy, coming here. And I'm really happy you were willing to let me be selfish and come here. Plus, I can tell the kids are really happy about it too. Seeing them in person like this also always makes me remember who I'm fighting for and passing laws for. I know I can't watch over them for the rest of their lives, 'cause they'll get older and do their own things... but while they're here, I want to keep these smiles on their faces. There's only so much I can do from inside a castle to make that happen."

Flynn, deep down, knew that Yuri had no issues with his behavior when dealing with the small child and, in fact, it seemed as if Yuri welcomed that type of behavior. Like he welcomed the idea of Flynn always putting the people first and then his duty second. And the fact that Yuri was so accepting seemed to win Flynn over even more, if that was even possible. The more time that Flynn spent observing Yuri and how he interacted and cared about the world around him… the more Flynn began to feel a certain feeling blossoming in his chest. A feeling that was entirely too dangerous for a knight to have.

“O-Of course…” Flynn responded to Yuri’s light laughter with a tiny mutter, his blue eyes fixated on the man in front of him. He can’t get himself to respond beyond that as Yuri begins to lead the way to the orphanage. Which was just as well, because Flynn suddenly was having a hard time focusing. When had he started thinking about how pretty Yuri was? When had he become so obsessed with hearing his charge’s laughter, as light as it was?

Even as they walked together, Flynn watched as Yuri took in the environment around them, he could practically see how Yuri was examining the situation and was already trying to decide on how he could make the Lower Quarter better. Perhaps… Later on, he could give the other suggestions on where to start. There were a lot of problems on the surface of the Lower Quarter, but there were also a lot of things beneath the surface that one couldn’t see unless they lived there daily. Considering Flynn technically grew up in the area before he moved into the castle, he could at least share some of his ideas… if Yuri allowed. Which, knowing Yuri, he would. He always did. He always seemed to value Flynn’s opinion for some reason.

His heart skipped a beat at the mere thought of it. Could he really allow himself to feel this way…?

As they arrived at the orphanage, Flynn shook himself slowly from his thoughts lingering on Yuri as he turned his full attention to the children that ran out to greet them, their smiling faces bombarding them with question after question. As usual, the energy of the children was enough to make Flynn feel energized himself but he also couldn’t help but direct his attention to the new child they had brought along with them. Gently, he took the child’s hand and stepped back from the group. “Of course, I’ll see to it that he’s taken care of and that his injuries are tended to. I’ll make a list of their current stock and we can decide if they need anything extra so far. We’ll have to remember to inform someone that he’ll be staying here as well.”

He figured that Yuri had that part under control. If not, they could simply inform Jiri upon their return… even though it would likely end with them both being scolded for leaving without permission. By this point, Flynn has just accepted that being under Yuri’s service was going to get him scolded every so often. It was worth it though… mostly. Jiri was scary, sometimes.

It didn’t take long to get the small boy cleaned up and bandaged at all. The child was very good at pushing through any pain or discomfort he may have felt. Having him take the medicine was… a bit more difficult but with some convincing and gentle talking him through it, the young boy took the medicine successfully. After that, Flynn took the time to take a quick stock, noticing that they were running a bit low on bandages and medicine to apply to the wounds in order to disinfect them. He would definitely have to bring that up to Yuri when he was done baking for the children.

After Flynn returned to the group and made sure the young boy was settled, he had been intending on helping Yuri with his baking before the other practically forced him to take a seat with the children. Flynn couldn’t stop the chuckle as he clearly got the hint. Someone had to distract the kids. And distract he did. The children really liked to talk and for some reason, they were very fascinated by the stories that Flynn had to tell, especially when they had learned that Flynn had once lived in the Lower Quarter at some point too.

They began asking about his home life when he was in the Lower Quarter, and while Flynn gave tiny answers here and there, so not to bring down the mood entirely with bad memories of his father or mother, or to give away who he was currently working for, the children seemed rather satisfied with what little answers they received. Still, talking about his childhood home, even if he skimmed the topic as best as he could… He couldn’t help but realize that he hadn’t been home in quite some time. His work life has been so busy lately that he just never had the chance to visit home nowadays. Maybe he could try and stop by just to clean up a little bit… But he would probably have to take Yuri home first, wouldn’t he?

Speaking of Yuri, he is snatched away from his thoughts when the long haired prince begins to circle the room, handing out little cupcakes to everyone before finally stopping by Flynn’s side. When Flynn is given his cupcake, he lets out a tiny laugh at the sight of the funny little face that Yuri had put on the cupcake because of course he did. It was just so in character for the young prince.

“You didn’t have to go through the trouble of making me one as well, Yuri… but it’s appreciated. Thank you.” Flynn smiles warmly at the other and his smile only seems to grow when Yuri smiles back at him. Once again, that nagging feeling tugged at Flynn’s heart as his gaze lingered on Yuri for a moment, only to watch the other turn and hurry back to the oven.

Flynn’s smile faltered for a moment. Was it him or did Yuri seem a bit nervous about something? Was it about the cupcake? As Flynn picked it up and bit into it, he hummed thoughtfully for a moment. It tasted fine to him…

Flynn spared another glance over his shoulder towards Yuri and then back to the children. They all seemed preoccupied with their own cupcakes for the time being… Perhaps he could sneak away for just a moment or two?

He at least finished up the cupcake before making his move but soon enough, he was slipping from his seat and making his way towards the kitchen, where Yuri began to resume his work on dessert making. With a quick knock to the doorway to announce his presence, Flynn quietly entered the room.

“...The children seem pretty distracted amongst themselves and the cupcakes.” Flynn took a peek over his shoulder before looking back to Yuri. “Do you… Uh… Do you need anything? Any help or anything like that?”

With a pause, Flynn quickly added on, “...The cupcake was really good, by the way. You’ve gotten really good at baking lately."

Come to think of it, was it Jiri who taught Yuri how to cook? It was nice to see that Yuri even knew how to cook too! The boy just seemed so independent and determined to do things himself that sometimes… Flynn honestly forgot he was looking at someone of royal blood. Once again, Flynn averted his eyes, that feeling rising up in his heart once more. Oh, he was in trouble, wasn’t he...?

[bluejayblueskies]

oh if you did a little something for jonmartin and "hiding their face in the other’s neck" i would be so 🥺💕

touches prompt list

a little post-circus kidnapping hurt/comfort! cw for wounds/injury, mild blood, mentions of non-consensual touching, and mentions of kidnapping

.

There is a stranger’s elbow digging into Jon’s side.

He shifts from one foot to the other, trying to relieve some of the pressure on his side while surreptitiously giving the stranger a glare that he hopes adequately conveys his dislike of the current situation. The tube is packed, as it always is at this time of day, and there are… so many strange hands. An elbow, at least, is better than the hand that had pressed to his back as the individual it belonged to had instinctively tried to maintain their balance.

After all, Nikola didn’t touch him with her elbows.

Jon doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t want to think about any of it. He wants to lie down in a soft bed and get his first good night’s sleep in a month and finally have the space to process. Alone.

Instead, Martin stands next to him on the train. His hand rests just beneath Jon’s where it grips one of the metal poles, and Martin takes care not to brush against him despite how crowded the car is. Jon considered telling Martin, when they first got on the tube, that it was okay—that his touch would be… well, it wouldn’t be bad. But he’d stayed silent, allowing Martin to cultivate a careful space between them. They’ve been silent for the past twenty minutes as they’ve passed by station after station on their way to Martin’s flat in Brixton.

“I have a flat,” Jon had said uncomprehendingly when Martin had suggested (or rather, gently begged) that Jon come back to his flat with him. “It’s, um. It’s nice. Spacious. S-sturdy locks.”

“You… you don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Martin had said, sounding and looking very much like he wished Jon would anyway.

“I’m fine.” Jon was not fine. But he could be fine until he got back to his flat. It was always good to have a short-term goal.

Martin gave him a look that clearly said that he thought Jon was full of shit. Jon was, but it was still unnecessary. He was just trying to keep it together. What did Martin want—him sobbing and crumpling to the floor right here in the Archives? No, that wouldn’t do at all.

“You were kidnapped. Twice now. I really don’t want it to happen a third time. Besides, I…” Martin trailed off and fluttered his hands at his sides. “I—I should take a look at your hand. And your, um. Wrists.”

Jon looked down at his arms. They were, indeed, quite red and raw and scabbed over and likely to scar. Nikola had been irritated when she’d seen that he’d been tied up so tightly, but she’d decided there was nothing to be done about it. She would just ‘make do with what she had.’ And, well. She had never stopped Breekon and Hope when they’d cinched the ropes just a little bit tighter each time.

“I have first aid supplies in my flat,” Jon lied. He was fairly certain that he had a backpack of What the Ghost merchandise and a single mattress to his name at the moment. “I can take care of it.”

“So can I.” Martin took a deep breath. “I just… I don’t want to see you hurt, Jon.” His cheeks were flushed a rosy pink, and he looked over Jon’s shoulder at the wall behind him. “J-just for tonight, at least? I want…” Martin swallowed. “I want to make sure you’re safe.”

And then Martin had turned those lovely blue eyes to his, and, well. Here they are.

Jon adds 24 hours onto his mental countdown of the time he has left until he’s allowed to break down and tells himself that he can manage. It’s… important to have long-term goals as well. He splits this one into steps.

Step one: get to Martin’s flat without crying. He achieves this easily enough. He finally escapes the cloying presence of strangers as Martin’s door shuts behind them, and then it’s blissfully quiet. Martin flips on a light, illuminating the space in pale yellow. It’s a little bit messy but otherwise spartan. The walls are painted a dull eggshell white, the floor made of cheap lino. Martin sits Jon down on the couch and disappears into the bathroom. Jon stares at the wall and focuses on breathing evenly and thinking about anything other than how smooth his skin feels when he slowly rubs his fingers together.

Step two: let Martin bandage his wounds without crying. This is… more challenging, if only because it hurts. Martin apologizes profusely as he wets a cotton ball with isopropyl alcohol and gently cleans the inflamed areas. Jon sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down, focusing on anything other than the stinging, burning sensation in his wrists and hands. Funny—he’d thought that at this point, he would be used to the pain, but he’s not. All he knows now is what to expect.

Martin carefully wraps his hand and wrists in bandages. For a moment after he’s done, he delicately holds Jon’s hands in his like they’re porcelain. His hands are warm and soft, and Jon imagines how lovely they would feel against his cheeks. He thinks briefly that Martin is going to raise his unbandaged hand to his lips and lay a kiss across the back of it, but Martin doesn’t. Instead, he sets Jon’s hands back in his lap and stands, mumbling that he’s going to go make some tea.

Jon scrubs his uninjured hand across his eyes, just once.

Step three: sit on the couch with Martin and drink tea without crying. Martin presses a mug of steaming chamomile into his good hand and lays a plate of biscuits between them. “Th-they’re your favorite,” Martin says with a small, nervous laugh, like Jon’s not already staring at the plate with something choked sitting in the back of his throat. “I—I figured you probably haven’t really eaten today, and… I don’t really know what you’ve eaten lately. So, um. Yeah.”

Jon thinks of the things that Nikola had called food, then chooses not to think of them at all. He tucks the memory into a box next to cold hands and exposed skin and burning ropes and slams the lid before it can all come spilling back out again. “Thank you,” he says earnestly. He gingerly takes a biscuit in his stiff, aching hand that hasn’t had the time to heal properly and probably won’t get the chance to do so in the future and pops it into his mouth whole so he doesn’t get crumbs on Martin’s couch.

Step four: eat a biscuit that tastes like the best biscuit you’ve ever had and is the first palatable food you’ve had in weeks without crying.

“Jon?”

Jon blinks and comes back to himself. He’s staring blankly at Martin’s face, at eyebrows folded in concern and mouth curled into a small frown. Martin’s freckles are smudged into smears of tan, and the lines of his jaw waver like a mirage in front of Jon’s eyes. That’s odd, Jon thinks. Then, he feels something wet hit the top of his cheek.

Oh, no.

Quickly, Jon reaches up and scrubs the tears away from his eyes. As soon as he lowers his hand, more spring up in their place. He curses and sets his mug of tea down heavily on the table, taking one more look at Martin—whose eyes are now wide with worry—before turning away and attempting to pull himself together.

Step five: stop crying. Stop crying. Stop crying.

(Stop crying, his grandmother says as he stands in the living room, hands and knees dirty and hair a mess. He’s managing to say words between his sobs, words like book and stole and spider. She’s frowning at him, but her voice is still patient and calm when she says, You’re not making any sense, Jonathan. Stop crying, please, and speak clearly. You had a nightmare?)

“Jon, what’s—” Martin catches himself, which Jon is thankful for. He thinks that if Martin had finished that question—asked him what’s wrong—Jon wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from saying, what isn’t? “What can I do to help?” he says instead, a hand hovering carefully in the air between them like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch Jon or not.

“Don’t look,” Jon manages to say. He immediately feels ridiculous and follows with a quick: “S-sorry, it’s—I don’t k-know how to—I’m not—I’m n-not good at—”

“I’m not looking,” Martin says softly.

Jon cuts off, takes a breath, and turns his head back toward Martin. True to his word, Martin has his eyes closed, though his hand remains in the air between them. Jon presses his good hand to his mouth for a moment to hide how the sight rips a new, more ragged sob out of him. Then, tentatively, he reaches forward and takes Martin’s hand.

Martin inhales sharply. Jon almost lets go, but Martin curls his fingers around Jon’s hand and squeezes. He holds Jon’s hand tightly yet so achingly softly, and Jon could weep. (Or rather, is weeping.)

“Can I hug you?” Martin says abruptly, like he’d been fighting an internal battle about whether or not to say it and had just lost. His cheeks darken, but he doesn’t say anything else or take it back. His jaw shifts as he pinches his lips together and worries them back and forth.

Jon is… not the kind of person who initiates or seeks out hugs. He always makes them too stiff, or he holds on just a bit too long and makes them awkward, or he doesn’t know what to do with his hands and ends up just dangling them uselessly in the air. He’s also never really seen the point of them if he’s being honest. As a form of greeting, surely handshakes or waves or head nods get the point across just fine. Right now, though, there is truly nothing in the world that Jon thinks would make him feel safer than having Martin’s arms around him.

Jon nods, then remembers that Martin can’t see him and whispers, in as composed a voice as he can muster: “Please.”

Step six: hug Martin Blackwood without falling apart completely.

Martin’s arms are soft and warm around him. His chest is flush with Jon’s, and he’s holding him so close that Jon is practically on Martin’s lap. All Jon can think is that it’s been so long since he’s been held by something not made of sawdust or plastic. He grips the back of Martin’s jumper with lotion-soft hands and cries tears that have been collecting for a month into the fabric as he buries his face in Martin’s neck. Martin’s hands rub large circles across Jon’s back, and he’s whispering gentle words into Jon’s ear. Things about safe and okay and time and here.

By the time Jon feels thoroughly wrung dry, his cheeks are sticky and his head is throbbing and he’s desperately in need of a glass of water. He takes a few deep breaths, then carefully extracts himself from Martin’s arms. Martin lets him go easily, though his hands remain resting lightly on Jon’s elbows as if he can’t bear to let him go completely.

Jon thinks he knows the feeling.

Martin’s eyes are still closed, and Jon is hit with such a swell of affection he can hardly breathe around it. “Y-you can open your eyes,” he says, a bit sheepishly. Martin does, and if he’s affected by the state of Jon’s face, he doesn’t show any indication of it. “Sorry,” Jon mumbles, twisting his ring—now on his left middle finger instead of his right—around and around mindlessly. “I just…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Jon.” Martin squeezes Jon’s elbows gently. “I understand. Any time you need me to look away, I will. Okay? I just…” He takes a breath. “I’ll always be here. F-for you when you need me.”

If Jon weren’t thoroughly out of tears, that would make his eyes water. Instead, he nods and offers a small, weak smile. “I know. Thank you, Martin. It… just. Thank you.”

Step seven: fall asleep safe against Martin’s side in the bed that he insists is big enough for two, face pressed into Martin’s neck once again and hands curled loosely in Martin’s sleep shirt.

He’s so drained by the time they’re there, so wrung-out and empty and relaxed, that he manages to do so almost immediately. He thinks he hears Martin murmur, “Sleep well, love,” as he drifts off. But it disappears into the fuzzy border between sleep and wakefulness, slipping from Jon’s mind entirely as he fades to black.

[mediocre-writerr]

safe and sound [jennifer jareau]

jennifer jareau x reader

requested by anon: Hi! I love your Criminal Minds fics and was wondering if I could make a request? Where JJ and reader are dating and it’s set during the season 7 finale where reader is the one who shot the robber and is the one who was taken instead of Will. JJ and reader reunite with a fluffy ending. 

*not my gif*

Kings and Queens. Jacks and Jokers. 

Sound familiar, right? When you hear that you think of the playing cards, not some bank robbers who have been robbing internationally. 

It was a bank robbery. Something that you have been reported to at least five times throughout your career, but this time it was different. The robbers known as the “Face Cards” have been robbing banks all over the DC area, only this time were you called onto the scene.

You and your partner Will were driving around on patrol when your police radio went off, “All units in the vicinity of Penn and Southeast, robbery in progress at Colonial Liberty Bank. Shots fired. Repeat, shots fired at the Colonial Liberty Bank. All units.”

Will and you looked at each other as you grabbed the radio, turning the steering wheel to make a U-turn, “426 responding,” 

Will flicked on the sirens as you started to pick up speed. The two of you finally parked on the side of the bank to prevent them from escaping through the side doors, “Better pull back and see if they respond-” Will was about to go on went a shot rang out and a bullet narrowly missed his head. 

“Shit! Cover!” you yelled. 

The two of you took behind the car as you fired at the man who tried shooting Will. The bullet ripping through the man’s shirt and through his shoulder. You watched as the other man began pulling him away from the door and back inside. 

You called for backup and not too long after JJ came running towards you, embracing you in a tight hug, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine, Will over here got pretty lucky,” you said with a smile on your face, patting his back. 

JJ scanned your face, her hands never leaving your cheeks. You grabbed a hold of her hands, pressing a kiss to the palm of them, “I’m okay, let’s just try catching these guys okay?” you whispered and she nodded letting out a sigh. 

Most of the day was spent talking to Chris as you all watched Oliver die. The only goal was to get the hostages out of there without anyone getting hurt, “No more feds. I want the cop who killed my brother,” you let out a sigh, placing your head in your hands.

You, Morgan, JJ, and Hotch all stood there in the van, “Well, I gotta go out there, don’t I?”

“No, absolutely not!” JJ exclaimed.

You looked at your girlfriend with a sad smile, “What other choice do we have?”

“Something! Anything else! They will shoot you the second you walk in, is that not running through your brain?!” she basically yelled.

Hotch and Morgan met your eyes and they took your face to give the two of you some space. Once they left, you looked at JJ and placed your hands on her waist.

She finally leaned in to your touch and placed her hands softly along your neck. You placed your forehead on hers as she sighed. You pressed your lips on hers, kissing her intensely. You wanted to show her how much you love her and care for her even if you’re about to run into a bank full of robbers who probably want you dead.

Once you pulled away, she noticed the determined look in your eyes, “No, no, no! You can’t do this! What about us? What about Henry?” 

“Four people are dead because I killed his brother,” I whispered. 

You pulled away from your short embrace, walking backwards towards the door of the van, “No please! Please don’t leave me!” she exclaimed, tears running down her face as she slid her back against the wall.

You wanted nothing more than to run up and hold her, but you knew that this needed to be done. So no one else could die for your mistakes. “I don’t have a choice baby,” you whispered again, “I love you and I love Henry. Remember that, always,” 

Hotch already knew what you were gonna choose, SWAT members hid behind the cop cars, already pointing their guns inside. You took a deep breath as you started to walk towards the bank. 

You could hear JJ’s screams as you slowly walked towards the bank, “Morgan! Let go of me! Y/N! Y/N stop!” 

You raised your hands up immediately, walking into the bank, “C’mon Chris, you got what you wanted. I’m here. Now please, let them go,” 

“You go,” Chris said, forcing a mom and her children out of there, “What’s your name?”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you told him. 

There was no response from him as he just shot you twice. The bullets firing echoing throughout the entire building and outside. JJ scrambled in Morgan’s arms, her bright blue eyes widening, “No!” 

The team sat there in the van with JJ. All eyeing her like she was about to just explode. One wrong word would just cause her to go crazy, “Where were they shot?” she asked. Garcia just stared at her unsure of what to say, “Where were they shot?!” 

“I don’t know,” Garcia muttered. 

JJ picked up the stack of papers that were lying next to her and threw them at the wall of the van. Smacking her hands down onto the cool metal. Everyone just stared in shock, unsure of whether you’re alive or dead.

Luckily, he didn’t go for the kill shot.

You laid there as you could feel your body going cold. Your shoulder was bleeding out and the hostages who were helping you started to get a little blurry. 

All you could think about was JJ and Henry. The way Henry would run up to you when you’d go over to their house and hug you tightly. 

Or the nights where both you and JJ were off, Henry would lie in the middle of you as a movie played. Eventually, Henry would fall asleep cuddled up next you. Then JJ’s lazy arm would wrap the both of you. Once you made sure they were both sleeping soundly, you’d wrap your arms around both of them safely and securely. 

“I need to cause a distraction while you guys get out of here,” you told the man, who was applying pressure to your wound, “But I need you to tell my girlfriend Jennifer and her son Henry that I love them so much and I’m sorry,” 

The rest of the time you spent at the bank was a little fuzzy. You were more focused on trying to get Chris to turn on the woman and trying not to pass out from blood loss, than anything else. 

Before you knew it there was an explosion and you were just getting pushed into a car. The whole car ride, you focused your breathing, trying your hardest to stay awake. 

The only thing keeping you going were JJ and Henry. What you would do just to hold them one last time. 

Your thoughts came to an abrupt stop when you arrived at a fire station. The fireman helped patched you up much to Izzy’s choice. You watched as she shot him multiple times before sneaking into the firehouse to grab you a change of clothes. 

“You didn’t have to kill him,” you muttered.

“He was a witness, he needed to go,” she shot back without an ounce of remorse. 

Then the next thing you know you were transported back to the car. Everything was going fine or well okay for being a hostage to two psychopaths. Until Izzy just started opening fire on Chris.

“Well Detective Y/L/N, take Chris out of the car and get in the passenger seat. We’re going on a little drive,” she told you, the gun pointed straight at you, “Stop here,” she muttered after a little bit.

The backdoor opened to reveal the Joker himself. He was the former Marine who helped keep pressure on your wound. Your eyes widened slightly at the sight before ultimately remaining your composure.

“Hey Y/N!” he patted your wounded shoulder and you tried your absolute hardest not to wince, “Sorry, forgot about that,” 

“Drive,” she said again.

“Where?” 

“Take me to see your son,” Izzy said and you shook your head. Henry wasn’t your sign biologically, but the longer you and JJ dated the longer it felt like he was. Like your entire life he was actually yours, “I said, drive!” 

You took a deep breath in before driving towards JJ’s house. The drive was tense as your knuckled turned white from gripping the steering wheel too hard. You just hoped and prayed to whatever type of God there was that they could keep Henry safe. 

JJ would be able to get over the loss of you, but the loss of Henry. That’s a different kind of loss she’ll never be able to survive. 

You finally parked across the street. You smiled softly at the sight of Henry playing in the front with Miss Kate and her daughter. 

“He’s a cutie,” Izzy told you and your smile quickly faded, “Looks a lot like Jennifer. Where’s the hospitality Y/N? Come on introduce me!” 

You got out of the car slowly walking up to the house, “Y/N!” Henry yelled, running towards you as he wrapped his arms around your legs. 

You crouched down so his tiny arms can wrap around your neck. You held him tight and close, sucking in a deep breath. Just for a moment, you were transported back to one of your favorite parts of the week. Just for a moment, he was safe in your arms.

Until he wasn’t. 

You told Miss Kate that it was okay to go as Izzy followed you into JJ’s home. Once Henry ran off to grab some toys, you turned your head and looked straight at her, “You touch my kid and I will kill you!” you said with teeth gritted.

Izzy clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth, making a tsk noise, “Now do you remember the deal Y/N? You touch me and both you and Jennifer die. Who’s gonna take care of Henry then?” 

“Y/N! Come play with me!” he exclaimed, running back in.

You crouched down again, ruffling his blonde hair, “I would love to, but I can’t right now buddy. You see, I have to go back to fighting bad guys, okay? Izzy over here is gonna take care of you until mommy comes home,” you could feel the tears start stinging your eyes as you tried to stop them from falling.

“So you’re gonna be a good boy for Izzy, okay? Listen to everything she says, okay?” you ask him

“Okay,” he replies innocently. 

“One more thing bud,” you pull him close to you as you hug him tightly, “I know I am not your mom or dad, but I love you so much. Did you know that?” 

He nods and you smile softly, “I will never let anything hurt you. Everything is going to be okay,” 

“Everything will be okay,” he mumbled back, “I love you Y/N,” 

You sniffled, “I love you too buddy,” 

You take a deep breath and back away from him. Before you walked out of the house, you looked Izzy dead in the eye, pushing your shoulder against hers on the way out. 

You sung open the car door before slamming it shut, “What the fuck do you want?!” you asked. 

“Woah, easy tiger,” Matthew told you, “You’re going to listen to everything I say. If you as dare mutter the two lettered word, your boy is as good as gone. Or should I say Jennifer’s boy is as good as gone because he’s not yours. He will never be your own kid,” 

Matthew made you drive to the train station where he strapped a bunch of bombs to your chest and chained you up like you’re some random zoo animal. Then he ran, like the coward he is, he ran. 

You thought you were as good as gone. But that didn’t matter to you. All that mattered to you was that Henry was safe. He was stuck with the psychopath that is the quote on quote “Queen”. 

Just when all hope was lost Prentiss came running in, “I found Y/N!” 

She ripped the duct tape off your mouth, “Izzy’s got Henry. Forget about me! Make sure Henry’s safe, please!” 

“JJ’s there right now. She’s gonna keep him safe,” Emily tried calming you down, “I’m not leaving your side, I’m gonna get you out of here so you can be with your family,” 

Emily was panicking as she tried to find a way to keep you from blowing up into bits. She punched in one passcode and it beeped, showing that she only had two tries left. 

You shook your head, knowing that in a minute you’ll be gone, and Emily could not be here to be included in the damage.

“Emily, just go. Get everyone out of here,” you pleaded.

She shook her head, “No, I told you you’ll get to be with your family and that’s what’s going to happen. I’m not going to leave you,” 

When she finally unlocked the code, another box opened. 30 seconds flashing and taunting you. This is how long you have left live. 

“Emily, tell JJ that I love her and that I’m sorry,” you whispered, “Now leave please! There’s still a chance that you could save yourself so go!” you screamed. 

She sat there looking at the wires before out of nowhere without speaking she just cut one, “What the fuck?!” you exclaimed, shutting your eyes close.

After a couple seconds, nothing happened. You opened one eye and looked down at the timer. It stopped. You let out a breath and an empty laugh, leaning your head against the pole.

“Emily, I love you and I love that you’re JJ’s best friend. But let me just say, I did not think we’d get this close to where I trust you with my life...literally!” you joked and she let out a soft chuckle.

“Let’s get you to your family,” she told you.

As soon as the bomb squad came to disarm you, you wrapped your arms around Emily, pulling her into a tight hug, “Thank you,” 

“Of course,” 

You were finally discharged from the hospital after a couple hours. Rossi reassured JJ that she could stay home with Henry and that he’ll drive you to the house. She was hesitant at first, but Rossi basically forced her to stay home.

Rossi parked in front of JJ’s patting your shoulder softly, “Enjoy your time off,” he joked.

“Oh trust me, I will,” you fired back and the two of you let out a hearty laugh.

You walked into the house slowly. Henry’s little voice echoing throughout the foyer was like music to your ears, “Y/N! You’re back!” he yelled.

You kneeled down as he made a bee line towards your arms with your arm that wasn’t in a sling, you hugged him tight. Even with one arm you could tell that he was struggling to breathe at how tight you were hugging him.

“I am! Did you pick out a movie tonight?” you asked, raising your eyebrows up at him.

“Yup!”

“Which one did you pick?” you asked and he showed you the DVD case of Shrek 2, “Nice choice bud!”

You looked up to the sound of footsteps to see JJ walking towards the two of you, “How about you brush your teeth and change into your PJ’s and me and your mom we’ll get the bed and movie all set up? How does that sound?” 

“Great!” he replied with a big smile.

“Great!” you responded, ruffling his hair, pulling him into another hug, “I love you,” you whispered to him.

“I love you too,” he told you before running off. 

You stood back up to face JJ. At first she looked angry before her anger turned to sadness. You took her into your arm as she buried her face into your neck, “It’s okay,” you whispered, “Everyone’s safe. I’m safe, Henry’s safe, you’re safe. We’re okay,” 

JJ took your face into her hands, running circles on your cheekbones, “I know Henry’s not biologically mine, but he means the world to me Jay. I wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to him,” 

“You’re just as much as a parent as I am,” she whispered.

“But he’s not mine,” you told her. 

“Then let’s change that, Y/N Y/L/N, marry me. We’ll get married in front of all of our friends and family. Henry will be your son, blood or not. And I will be your wife,” JJ whispered.

You smiled at her softly, “You know, I always wanted a wife and son,” you whispered to her.

“So is that a yes?” she asked.

“In every single language,” you murmured, pressing your lips upon hers. 

You and JJ stood there for a minute, just relishing in each other’s embrace. Your lips moving in sync. When all of a sudden you hear a little, “Ewwwww,” 

The two of you pulled apart and you saw Henry all dressed up in his Captain America pajamas, “Who are you ‘eww-ing’ Mr?” you asked him and he giggled as he ran away from you.

You immediately ran after him, JJ yelling after you, “Y/N! Be careful of your arm!” 

Henry squealed as you picked him up with your one healthy arm, spinning him around the bedroom before dropping him onto the bed. You crashed in your usual spot next to him as JJ put on the movie. 

You felt Henry’s little arm wrap around your body and once his grip loosened you knew he was asleep. Your eyes glanced over to JJ who was sleeping safe and soundly, her chin resting on top of Henry’s blonde head of hair. 

You sighed contently, as you turned on your side, wrapping your arms around the two of them. Henry’s head close to your chest as your forehead rested on top of JJ’s. 

Just for a moment, everything was right where it needed to be.

[shoichee]

how would atsushi, akashi and aomine react to haizaki threatening/hitting on their s/o?? (cue that one scene where he was literally taking on himuro, kagami, kise, and alex all at once 😡... basically that, but with their s/o)

ANON…. THOSE 3???? LONG STORY SHORT…. HAIZAKI EXPERIENCES DEATH (OR AT LEAST NEAR-DEATH) 3 SEPARATE TIMES…… BUT HERE’S THE “LONG STORY” THROUGH THESE HCs 

TW: attempt of physical assault, unwanted advancements… asshole Haizaki? cut under this to keep y’all safe JUST IN CASE

[Headcanons]

Aomine Daiki

you went out to look for Aomine after noticing how he hasn’t come back to his seat for too long

this was shortly after Kaijō defeated Fukuda Sōgō, and it was currently intermission before the next match rolled in

your face was met with crisp air as your eyes adjusted to the dark, scanning for any sign of your boyfriend

upon seeing no one, you decided to walk around the perimeter, just in case Aomine decided to nap for a quick moment on a whim and forgot to tell you

maybe you shouldn’t have walked out alone and in the dark of night, but you figured that in such a public event in a public area, you didn’t think anyone had the balls to start anything fishy around the stadium

oh how you were so wrong

you unfortunately bumped into Haizaki right when he was slowly strolling with his basketball shoes over his shoulder, and you immediately stopped in place, praying that he would walk past by you or perhaps not even see you

you knew that he wasn’t good news based from what Aomine told you and from watching that unpleasant game… he was bad, bad news

why did you think he wasn’t gonna see you? his senses are as sharp as a falcon, scrutinizing you before he realizes your identity

“Oh? Now what’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here… all alone?”

“I, um, I was looking for someone, but I realized it’s been getting a little too late… I think they returned back to the stadium, so that’s where I’m heading…”

your voice slowly diminishes to a soft whisper by the end, but judging from his widened eyes from glee, you knew he wasn’t going to walk past by you after this

“That so?” he drawls, licking his thumb. “The stadium ya say?”

something about his gaze turned sharp and dangerous, “the stadium” triggering unadulterated rage and frustration from the game and from his encounter with Aomine

“I… I really gotta leave,” you say in a hurry, quickly backing up. “Th-They’re impatient, so—”

“Huh?” he mocks, leaning closer to you. “I’m kinda of an impatient guy myself, yeah?” but upon even closer inspection, he realizes that he’s seen you somewhere very recently

“Hm?” he muses lowly. “Weren’t ya sitting with Daiki that game?” when you don't answer out of fear, his eyes merely shine with excitement… “Ohhhh… is that how it is?”

. . .

Aomine returns back to his seat after settling a score with Haizaki outside the stadium, but immediately becomes confused when he sees your seat empty

Sakurai immediately apologizes and quickly informs him that you went out to look for him, and Aomine immediately dashes back out… after all, who knows if you got lost in the dark or if you kept being persistent in looking for him?

imagine his visible distress when he sees Haizaki putting an arm around your shoulder while still holding his shoes and you looking absolutely fearful because you knew what he was capable of

this was a very rare moment where Aomine was not so calm and collected

but he tries to, especially when he knows that Haizaki probably relishes in the fact of “getting revenge” for that punch earlier (and probably realized the connection between you and Aomine to do so)

“Hey, asshat,” he calls out, grabbing Haizaki’s attention away from you, but Aomine notices him pulling you slightly closer to his body. “The fuck you think you’re doing with (y/n)?”

“Hehh? So (y/n)’s your name?” Haizaki merely pays attention to you, completely ignoring Aomine

“Back off,” he says lowly, almost to a growl. “I won’t be holding myself back to just a punch this time if you do anything else.”

at his hardened glare, Haizaki does a gleeful mock-surprise expression before putting his arm off of you and says: “Whoaaa there, Daiki. Never pegged you as that typa guy.”

he licks his thumb before walking away casually without a care in the world before calling out, “It ain’t fun here anymore, I’m bouncin’ out.”

by the time he leaves Aomine’s field of vision, he finally releases a pent-up sigh before calling out your name:

“... Come’ere… he didn’t do anythin’ to you right? Sheesh, I leave you alone for one second—alright, alright I guess it was more than a second… fine, it was several minutes… look, I’m sorry… okay, okay quit lecturing me… more importantly, promise me you don’t go out alone like that. It’s dangerous out there, y’know.”

when you finally ask about what he meant by his threat to Haizaki, he smugly replies, “Aw, that? I gave him a hard sock earlier. Went down pretty easily.”

Murasakibara Atsushi

it’s quite rare that Murasakibara would agree to going to Tokyo temporarily over break, let alone leave his house, but here you two are, resting on the park benches in Tokyo

shortly after, you went to the nearest arcade hall, begging and tugging him along with you to try the strength test for the jackpot prize (totally using his physique to nab home prizes and merch LOL)

he only agreed because you looked way too excited for him to turn the plan down

he still enjoyed himself, if he was being honest; it’s just you, him, his snacks, and some games you both are playing together

Murasakibara notices that the arcade also has a mini food court to the side, and he immediately pouts at you to let him go tasting galore on a food binge

and you laugh, telling him to “hurry up” to tease him and letting him know that you were staying here to try to earn more points to exchange for rewards at the end

you entered a coin into the slot and hummed before seeing a START screen, but as soon as it went black into a loading screen you saw someone’s reflection on it

Haizaki was right behind you

“Whaddya know? Would ya look at that?” he says, hands in his pockets while sneering. “If it isn’t (y/n).”

you merely pretended that you didn’t hear him, considering that the arcade was pretty crowded and noisy, and went on to playing the game in front of you

you hoped that by the time you were done with the round, he’d be gone, but his reflection was very much still there on the arcade machine screen, depicting his laid-back posture against the back of another arcade machine, watching you with complete amusement

after spending all the available coins on hand and still sensing him behind you, you promptly turned to your left to head for the coin machine and acted completely casual, but before you got too far ahead, Haizaki easily blocks your path with an outstretched arm, the hand against the arcade machine

“Whoaaa,” he drawls. “That’s pretty fucked up for you to ignore me like that.”

“... You’re blocking the way, so can you please kindly let me pass?” you flatly say, not bothering to look at his face

“What’s with the cold shoulder?” He tilts his head with a crazed look in his eyes that spelled unpredictability. “I just came and stopped by to say hello to an old friend from Teiko. Nothin’ wrong with that, hm?”

“Look,” you sigh. “You’re in the way, and I wish to spend my time here left alone. No, I’m not interested in small talk. No, I’m not in the mood for a bite with you. No, I don’t want to give you my number. Did I address everything?” you finally turned your face to look at Haizaki, but his face contorts to one of a dangerous beast

“Good, good…” he slowly says. “You haven’t changed one bit, haven’t ya? I was wonderin’ where that feisty side of yours went.”

perhaps you shouldn’t have spoken up after all; it only riled him up more

before you can formulate any further thoughts, he grabs your chin and directed it towards him, and you immediately froze up

you tried to dart your eyes around you if anyone noticed, but no one seems to pay attention

“What’s the matter?” he asks. “Cat got ya tongue?” when he looks to where your gaze was at, he chuckles before drawing closer to your face. “No one’s gonna help… not when they think we’re a little thing…”

but he instantly feels a heavy hand on his shoulder, and Haizaki turns around, ready to cuss the perpetrator out, but his eyes widen when he sees a furious Murasakibara

a giant with a very, very hostile aura… even nearby crowds dispersed out of fear for their safety

“Hands off of (y/n)-chin, pest.”

“Oho?” Haizaki releases your face and completely turns around to face him. “Well if it isn’t Atsushi… been a while hasn’t it?” he brings up a hand in a shrugging motion. “While I’d love to chat, I’m busy. Scram.”

“Touch (y/n)-chin again, and I’ll break all of your fingers.”

“Huh?” Haizaki licks his right thumb. “What’s up with ya? It’s non’ya business.”

you took this as an opportunity to run to Murasakibara’s side and seek shelter behind his back, which Haizaki raises a defiant brow

“Hmmm?” he smiles a slow smirk. “Was I really such bad company, (y/n)?”

his smile was completely wiped when he sees Murasakibara’s outstretched hand towards his head, and he deftly dodges his grasp before he walks off with a scoff

“I’m gonna crush him—”

“W-Wait! Just leave him be…” you held onto his torso in a full-attempt to stop him from going too far, and after a few moments, he relaxes with body and finally turns to face you

he doesn’t say anything but darts his eyes all over your figure to make sure there weren’t any injuries on you

he gently holds your hand before he tugs you to follow him to the food court

“Murasakibara…?”

“... You won’t be separated from me if we hold hands, (y/n)-chin.”

“I’m fine, you know.”

he doesn’t say anything more, and when you both settled into your table with your orders, he’s constantly staring at you and giving nonverbal cues that he wants to do PDA with you

becomes very protective and affectionate of you for the rest of the trip

grows very quiet and deep in thought until you reassure him that you were okay because of him stepping in to save you

Akashi Seijuro

it’d be extremely rare for you to ever bump into Haizaki, especially when the only chance you can see him is during the annual Winter Cup

Winter Cup arrives once again with the GoMs being 2nd years this time, and Akashi is still the same Oreshi ever since last Winter Cup

Haizaki definitely had seen you walking with Akashi very closely before the opening ceremony started, and it gave him ideas on how to “get back” against Akashi without directly confronting him

he was gonna mess with you

even after all those years, he still has that grudge against Akashi; the fact that he is one of the few people who has that power over him irritates him to no end

even when Akashi told Haizaki to quit long ago to help him save face, his pride was still heavily bruised

when he was sure Akashi wasn’t with you, he approached you while you were waiting outside the stadium

. . .

Akashi exits out of the locker rooms and carries his duffel bag before he heads to the entrance to greet you, excited in reuniting with you to talk about today’s games and your opinion on Rakuzan’s performance… that is, until what he saw made him beyond furious

“O-Ow…!”

“If ya want someone to blame for,” Haizaki sneers. “Ya can thank Akashi for messin’ with me, yeah? Don’t take it too hard babe, but I’m just returnin’ the favor… by proxy.”

Akashi strides over to the two of you with the intensity of death that would even surprise Bokushi himself

“Haizaki.”

at the sound of his eerily calm voice, Haizaki turns over to Akashi, and his glee is immediately wiped off his face and replaced with one of anger… and hidden fear

he suddenly drops you from his chokehold, and as you hit the ground, coughing to intake air, he turns to Akashi with a vengeful look

after a suffocating staredown between the two, Haizaki tuts and turns to leave in unspoken defeat, knowing full well the consequences from defying against Akashi; it’s something he never did in Teiko and certainly not something he would risk doing now

Akashi immediately drops his cold facade and rushes over to your side, rubbing your back and examining the slight bruises on your neck

his HIGHEST priority at that very moment was your safety, and he decided to take you to a doctor and then to your home, opting to cancelling/rescheduling any plans for today despite your objections

all the while, he coos softly at you and touches you with such care and gentleness that you managed to calm your heartbeat from that sudden attempt of assault

as soon as he feels like you’re safe, mentally and physically (and probably in a safe environment with either a GoM or at your own home), he reveals his true emotions on his face regarding the incident for the first time when he’s alone

being super considerate about your current mental state, he didn’t want to potentially scare you even more with his anger and much more negative emotions

for the first time, he allows his darker thoughts to simmer and stir… it’s one of those rare times where he wishes that Bokushi still existed within him

he eventually finds time to pay a visit to Fukuda Sōgō… to make nice… threats conversation

if you somehow figured out that he was going to do that, only when you convinced him is when he’ll decide to back down

but that’s only IF you figured out about how Akashi really felt about this…

[jihopesjoint]

*sigh* you’re gonna have to come pick me up off the floor

it’s been close to 24 hours atp i just wanted my review to be meaningful and more than just me screaming. i don’t even know where to begin uhhhhh fuck i have to put a break this is going to be so goddamn long 😂😅

i have to start by being soft to you specifically (i’m a gemini stellium with a cancer rising lmao) you’ve dedicated your e2l jimin fic to me and the drabble to hozier you posted you also told me it was a gift and all of that already made me feel so special, but then you writing this specifically with me in mind was a whole different feeling entirely. i KNOW that it’s a drabble and i KNOW it’s not that deep, but regardless of the fact that it’s a request i sent you, it’s one of the nicest things anyone’s done for me because you took the time and energy to write this. it’s just really fucking nice.

it’s really cool to me that we found each other here. we joke about it often, but i saw you answer the ask game last night saying you would use the word “kindred” to describe me, and that feels so accurate to me. we have very different backgrounds and experiences, and there’s STILL so much we have in common. we haven’t known each other long, and we’re mostly just silly together, but i do truly feel seen and understood by you, and the way you wrote this drabble makes that VERY clear. i guess i’ll talk about it now lmfao

idk if it’s because i had the easiest time ever self-inserting (thank you lmao), but this made me EMOTIONAL. i absolutely fucking loved how in sync these two were and are. neither of them surprised to find each other again after a year. jimin STILL being confident about the kind of drink in the travel mug, even after so long. there was no second-guessing, no “well what if she changed her coffee order in that year she was gone?” him asking how many shots of espresso she (i??) had and all she did was grimace for him to know the answer. there’s just something about how there was little said to each other in words but so much understanding passed between them anyway. and in general, it’s so special to have people that you can immediately fall back into step with regardless of time and distance. ALSO having a shared google calendar is so fucking cute to me oh my fucking GOD!!!! that was one tiny detail and it might’ve been my favorite part LMAO

the energy of the song is SO potent too, in both the literal and figurative sense. they physically found each other again completely on accident with no surprise, just instant comfort. and i just loved that he loved her enough to tell her to go. he had faith in her that she didn’t have in herself, and she needed to go find that faith in herself, by herself. i uhhh relate heavily.

i know that the song’s true intentions were to be about learning to find a home within yourself and that she’s singing to herself, and it’s DEFINITELY the reason i love it so much and identify with it so heavily. but i also typically think about my best friend when i hear it. we met in june 2013 (happy birthday bts), and we got attached to each other pretty immediately and obviously have been ever since. we started out at the same college, which was in the area where i grew up, but she moved there from another part of texas. but while she stayed there, i transferred to the university in my hometown due to baby’s ~first~ of several mental breakdowns. she’s also stayed in the area after graduating, and i moved to the other end of texas and then ultimately across the country. but i have the intention of eventually moving back and moving in with her. she’s always known me to be on this journey of finding myself.

i’m mentioning this because while you DEFINITELY channeled me through the little details (the eyebrow crease, inability to go to sleep early, the hitting the arm, “please clap,”), you also captured an overall theme in my life in more ways than i think you even realized, and it honestly took my breath away. the “there’s more of you now than there was” and her glow that had begun to dim that was back and brighter than ever made me so fucking hopeful that one day i can have that because i’m doing everything i fucking can to be comfortable in my own skin. i have never known a peace and contentment like that. and FUCK i just wasn’t expecting to be seen in that way during this story.

i tend to be PARTICULARLY delusional about park jimin because i’ve looked at both of our birth charts LOL and all of our placements kinda fit together, but we both have gemini moon and cancer rising. it just makes me think that, language barrier aside, if some miracle were to happen and we crossed paths that we would get each other on a fundamental level. i relate to him HEAVILY. and the way you captured him and put him into this story was just exactly the way i think of him in relation to me. and you also inserted him into the position of my best friend in real life, which is SO interesting.

i don’t know man. i just can’t fucking thank you enough for this. i’m going to reread it so often. i fucking love you dude. i’m sorry this was so long for something so small LMFAO

jade. my soulmate. co-parent of our brain cell. the time has come—i have worked up the courage to send you a request.

i am thinking of the absolute love of my life park jimin. like estranged friends to lovers (not necessarily bad blood, just time and life caused distance between them)? fluffy like so fluffy but a hint of angst if you squint?? perhaps song inspo ‘find me here’ by hayley williams???

love u, sending this made me NERVOUS LMAO

OH, BINCH, I AM READY.

As the saying goes, two things in life are inevitable: death and taxes. As far as Park Jimin is concerned, that list is non-exhaustive, woefully incomplete. It fails to account for the one thing he knows is certain.

When he left his apartment that morning, Jimin didn’t necessarily expect to run into you. The Google calendar you once shared had been out of commission for nearly a year; and your paths hadn’t crossed in the meantime. He had no reason to know that your plans for the day included sitting riverside, sipping coffee, and watching the water. Despite that fact, it doesn’t surprise him to find you there now.

It just makes sense.

You’re daydreaming when Jimin sits down next to you. He gets so caught up in that thoughtful crease between your eyebrows that he forgets to make his presence known for more than a few minutes. You don’t even jump when he eventually decides to speak rather than stare. Finding him doesn’t seem to be a shock to you, either.

“Hey,” you sigh as if you’re relieved, and you are all smiles.

Jimin echoes your greeting in that same, soft tone, and it’s easy, like the last time he said it wasn’t twelve months ago. He’s grateful for that — for the lack of theatrics. It isn’t a dramatic reunion; there’s no gasp, no tears, no oh my gods. There’s you and him, falling into lockstep without so much as a stumble.

Glancing down at the travel mug in your hands, Jimin confirms that he knows exactly what he’s looking at. Right above your thumb, he finds the accidental dent you made in the metal when you knocked it off his kitchen counter two years earlier. The sight of it has him warm all over.

He doesn’t have to guess that it’s full of the medium roast from that café up the street, but he does have to ask: “One shot of espresso, or two?”

You grimace and Jimin knows exactly what that look means.

Eyes wide with mirth, he snorts, “Three? Shit. Don’t tell me you’re still staying up until sunrise.”

“Excuse you,” you gasp in feigned offense, swatting playfully at his bicep. Thank god some things never change. “I’ll have you know that I went to bed at midnight last night like a responsible adult!”

Jimin makes a big show of rubbing the spot where the back of your hand collided with his jacket. He relishes the way you roll your eyes at him for doing so. “Responsible is debatable, but I’ll concede that — for you — midnight is impressive.”

“I know, right?” you snicker. There’s a beat, then you blink at him expectantly. “Please clap.”

With your face lit up like that, how could he not?

“Proud of you,” He chuckles as you bow through his applause. And he means it, he really does. Sleep never came naturally to you, yet here you are, willingly going to bed before the moon does.

When it grows quiet again, that feels easy, too. It’s just as comfortable as it ever was, sitting silently next to you. Jimin realizes now just how much he’s missed this. Missed you, missed existing on the same page.

In any other circumstance, with anyone else, Jimin would feel obligated to keep the conversation going. He’d volley small talk until he was exhausted; fill every lull and refuse to let the mood hit the floor. Social interactions have always felt like endurance exercises — but not with you. Not then, and thank god, not now.

You’re looking straight ahead, shoulder leaning ever-so-slightly into his, when you eventually do speak. “Thank you.”

Now, Jimin is surprised.

“I don’t think I said it before I left, so I need to say it now,” you quietly answer before he can ask.

You turn to look at him and find that his eyes are already trained on you. It’s hard to put a finger on it, but there’s more of you now than there was the last time Jimin saw you. The glow you used to have — the one that had started to dim — was back, brighter than ever.

Happiness looks good on you, he thinks.

“I don’t think I would’ve gotten my shit together if it wasn’t for you,” You sigh. Then, you slot your fingers into the spaces between his without any hesitation at all. “I needed to — like, really needed to — but I wouldn’t have seen it if you didn’t point it out.”

Jimin squeezes the hand he didn’t want to let go of in the first place. It would’ve been selfish of him to cling to it back then, but it was a gamble not to. He threw in all his chips and hoped that you were the boomerang he thought you were; that you’d come back to him when you were ready.

You were, and are, a safe bet — one he’d take every single time — so Jimin gambles again.

He leans in slowly and you lean, too. Even though it’s the first time, the way you kiss him back feels natural.

Inevitable.

[hamburgerhelpersotherhand]

Lost P2

Lost Boys x Reader

Warnings: blood, noncon touching, a sexist remark, general yandere vampire schemes

Notes: I’m taking forever to post this bc I’m incredibly lazy, but I’ve decided to post it NOW even if I think there could still be improvements made. I’ve just been on this shit for far too long! I’m losing it!! Anyway, for those of you who actually read my updates, you know what this means… Infatuation is the next big one.

Part 1 -> "https://hamburgerhelpersotherhand.tumblr.com/post/634556269709148160/lost"

How you’d gotten yourself here, you hate to remember. It’s not like you had a choice, it was either this or... you’re not so sure but, based on the mangled bodies of your former friends, you can assume something just as grim and inauspicious.

But where are you? As you open your eyes just a sliver, you take note of the darkness of the night and the rushing wind that chills your view. Your ears are easily overpowered by the loud motorcycles surrounding you, and the one you find yourself aboard. Your arms are wrapped uncomfortably around a torso with the buttons of a coat digging into your skin.

David is his name. He’s driving his motorcycle like he’s got nothing to lose- no helmet and definitely going over the recommended speed limit. Behind you are his friends, or as he likes to call them: his boys. Marko, Paul and Dwayne. They follow him wherever he goes, and he follows them wherever they go.

A bump in the road scares you into tightening your hold around David’s torso and you’re reminded of how easily you could fall off. And while escape would be ideal, you’d rather not get trampled by the bikes behind you... that’s without saying what’ll happen if you let go and hit the road at this speed.

David looks behind him, toward you, and your heart stutters in your chest.

“We’re almost there.” You think you heard him say. He smiles and you shut your eyes tight when the others begin to shout and howl in excitement.

The road was long and dark, no houses in sight. You think the last building you remember seeing was the gas station. The back roads have always been an unsettling way to travel at night and that was exactly why.

“Can you hear the music?” David asks you, shouting so you can hear him. Listening closely, you do hear the music.

As you look over David’s shoulder, you see a large lit up home a little ways away. People are standing outside, surrounding the home are plains with little to no trees. The moonlight seems to brighten the area considerably.

When the bikes slow down and come to a stop, you freeze at the realization that they’re really about to do this. They’re really REALLY about to crash this party, huh? Your hold around David tightens, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he looks over his shoulder.

Before you can speak your mind, Paul and Marko grab you by the arms and pry them away, essentially yanking you off David’s bike. Naturally, you shout “Watch it!”, and strain to get your arms back.

David steps off his bike. “Relax, didn’t you want to be here?” He seems amused when they chuckle at your pointed look, though you keep quiet. No, you didn’t want to be here... but you knew some people who did before these wild animals had a go at them.

David crumples a dirty map between his hands and exchanges a look with the others. You can’t quite tell what they’re thinking, but you recognize those nefarious smiles. In the blink of an eye, they set their path toward the house with you by their side.

“You know anybody here?” Paul asks, nudging you. The music is louder as you approach the front door.

“No.” You mutter to yourself, though they easily hear you. You don’t recognize the guy passed out in the front lawn, or anyone in the group sitting on the porch. Just as you had done them, the strangers regarded your group with a look of confusion... and perhaps disgust.

“That’s great! Seems like we took care of it.” Paul pushes Marko as they walk and laugh, seemingly unaware of the judgmental looks they’re being given.

“L/N?” One of the guests on the porch questions. You stop to stare at the stranger.

“I’m... sorry?”

“L/N, right? High School, maybe?” He tests again, lifting his drink up to point to you with the same hand. “That might not be it, but I recognize you.”

Paul’s arm drapes over your shoulders before he mumbles right up against your ear with a huff. “Are you a liar?”

You gulp and shake him off. You’re not a liar. High School isn’t the most clear of memories, you had your friends and everyone else was forgettable. Without responding, you look to David, only to find his absence. Actually, all of the boys are missing with the exception of Paul, whose clearly never heard of personal space and replaced his arm back over your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I can’t remember you at all.” You state dryly and pull yourself away from the conversation. Paul follows closely as he cranes his neck and raises his voice to the stranger with a wave of his hand. “See y’a around!”

Wether you recognized him or not, you knew a conversation was worth less than his life. Paul seemed pleased as he pulled you in closer by the arm wrapped around your neck and gave you a solid kiss against your cheek. His lips ghost over your ear while you try to march ahead, but the weight of his arm slows you down.

“David wouldn’t have been as forgiving as me.” He mumbles, giving you a squeeze.

~

The backyard is full of people, none of which you recognize. There’s a loud fire crackling between messily placed lawn chairs and red cups. Music is playing, but it’s not as prominent the further you get from the house, conversations speak over it with little effort and laughs seem to entirely drown out the tunes. A couple social circles seemed to have been formed about. The boys are sat further back, leaning next to a lone row of trees and some coolers. They stick out from the others, they’re so... dirty.

David is sitting on the white and blue cooler with a cigarette between his lips and a flickering lighter in his hand. His attention seems to be drawn to it. Marko is leaning against the tree, observing the crowds with a mischievous smile and Dwayne is watching you like a hawk.

Paul’s hand pushes you forward as you walk past strangers. You’re hesitant and your legs feel stiff as you get closer. People are watching, they’re starting to notice you and the... they’re unwanted guests, they’re strangers, and they’ll quickly become party crashers if they pull anything. If these people didn’t know any better, which they don’t, they’d simply believe these boys were up to no good… but you know things could be far worse.

Paul barely caught it, but your mumbling has never been quiet when you more than obviously wanted someone to listen. You breathe out a simple “I want to go home.” and he huffs out a laugh without indulging the topic further.

You suddenly come to a halt, stopped right in front of David. Your attention is drawn elsewhere at the moment, but you can feel his and the boys’ eyes on you.

“You know them?” David asks. You tense up at the question but, despite it, you steel yourself for the response.

“No... it’s quite the opposite.” Your hand reaches to loosely scratch at your wrist and you talk. “I don’t recognize anyone.”

“But someone recognized you.” David tucks his lighter in his pocket and gestures to Paul, you’re soon shoved forward and land on your knees. You hiss, for good reason too. You think you’ve scraped your knees against some small rocks but... that’s the least of your worries now, being at David’s feet like this is far worse. When he grabs you by your chin, you try to flinch back.

“It’s not the end of the world, either way.” You don’t respond, instead choosing to cast your eyes toward the dirt as he hummed. “Head up, Y/N. You’re the lucky one”.

The lucky one?

“Why? What’s the fucking point, David?!” You snap.

He seems to laugh at you, bringing the almost forgotten cigarette to his lips and sucking in a breath before releasing it against your face. “My boys really like you, Y/N.”

You cough. “N-None of you know me.”

“You’re right.” He sighs, taking another drag of his cigarette but blowing it upwards this time. He shifts in his seat. “We don’t really know you, so why keep you around?”

He’s mocking you but he’s right. They don’t know you, so why do they keep you around? Ultimately, you’re still alive— despite everything that had happened up until this point. And looking around at the unsuspecting party-goers, you can’t help but feel relieved you’d made it this far.

“This isn’t a playground.” You say plainly.

“Little missy’s being snarky.” Paul laughs.

“She’s just being silly. Girls are like that.” David’s other hand reaches and pets your cheek. If you could pull away from the action, you would’ve. But as it stands, you’re in no position to do much of anything besides look away, observing the other guests.

When he unexpectedly grabs your face again, you jump but are easily kept in place as he looks into your eyes... his gaze slowly traces itself down the curve of your nose and to your parted lips. It wouldn’t have worried you, if he wasn’t already beginning to lean in and close the gap between the both of you. Your hands wrap around his wrist tightly as you attempt to jerk out of his grip.

He seems to enjoy your reaction, savouring it before pulling away to laugh along with the others. This is when he lets go, letting you fall back into the dirt and left to scramble yourself off the ground.

You don’t say anything besides the few annoyed huffs, you’re completely silent as you stand. Staring at David, your heart continued to race.

As he hums pleasantly, Dwayne leans toward David’s ear and whispers something to him. Despite not knowing exactly what he’s sharing with him, David’s glance behind you gives you an idea. You turn your head ever so slightly to see what had caught his attention, easily spotting the one set of eyes still looking in your direction: the stranger from the stairs. He’s made himself comfortable with one of the groups outside, but his attention seems to be partially on you.

When you turn back around, David leans in closer with a grin on his face.

“Go talk to him.” he says. You would of loved some freedom, but a loosened leash still tethers it’s victim the same. So you refuse with a shake of your head. “Ah, I see.” David leans back and crosses his ankles. “—but it wasn’t really an offer.” he and the boys laugh, “You waltz over there and talk to him, or nobody gets to go home.”

You think for a second, wondering, but ultimately give yourself no time for a conclusion. With a few hesitant steps, you made your way around the fire pit and toward him. Once you get closer, your eyes glue themselves to his. You can’t recall his name, but you’re sure keeping the conversation short and light would be satisfactory.

But once you’re facing him, you couldn’t trick yourself into speaking.

His friends look at you— he’s looking at you- and yet nobody says a thing. Your mouth hangs open uselessly and the music seems louder now. Before anyone can get a word out, you brush past them and make your way toward the house’s backdoor.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Marko spins you around. You shake his hand off your wrist before exchanging a glance. As you storm back toward the sliding doors, you swear under your breath and remind yourself of how stupid you’re being.

Even so, you walk straight through that open slide door, being followed every step of the way.

Entering the kitchen, you’re alone— seemingly alone. Empty red cups litter the floor and counters, and you have to watch your step as you approach the one phone you’ve seen all night.

You pick it up quickly, pressing buttons to call the first number that popped into your head. As you do, you chew your lip impatiently, holding the phone between your shoulder and your ear. Your heart is racing at the idea of speaking to someone— anyone that isn’t immediately in reach. Yet, as you wait patiently, an overwhelming feeling begins to make itself known to you. It hadn’t been long since you last saw your friends, and the horrid thought of them growing cold where you left them jabs at your chest.

Why isn’t anyone picking up? When you snap back to the present, you try the number again. Though you only then realize the lack of sound from the phone.

You place it down and lift the phone stand.

The line is loose. As you follow it, you find that it had been cut.

“What are you doing?” Someone says from behind you, when you look back, you find yourself alone with the guy from the staircase. He’s uncomfortably close.

“Did you do this?” He says tensely, his eyes blown wide as he grabs the cut cord and examines it closely.

“No- I found it this way.” You hurriedly try to explain. “I just needed to make a call.”

You huff audibly, your face twisting as you observe the plastic casing of the landline.

He looks at you for a second, examining your expression and softening his demeanour.

“It’s alright.” He sighs. “There’s another telephone in my parents’ room.”

You still for a moment, his words seemingly attacking you from all angles as you mumble the first thought that came to mind. “This is your party…?”

“Uh… yeah, who invited you?” He questions with a raised brow.

Mary invited you to her cousin’s party, you repeat to yourself over, and over again. You feel sick, but you keep yourself together in hopes of using the upstairs landline quick.

“Mary. She’s- she’s not here, though.” You gulp, your hands getting clammy as you continue. “She felt sick so she… um.. went back to the… uh, the motel room we got.”

He looks toward the corner of the counter for a minute, thinking, and all the while you’re finding it harder and harder to breathe.

“Tell her to give me a call tomorrow then, yeah? We could get some lunch together and catch up.”

Catch up. You feel sick at the remark, such an innocent activity soured by the fact that she’s nothing more than dead- and they’ll find her in the morning.

Even so, you nod your head and crank a smile, your brows remained furrowed but he smiled back, none the wiser.

He leads you out of the secluded kitchen, through the more than handsy crowded living room, and toward the old carpeted staircase.

~

“Close the lights and door on your way out. Thanks.” He simply states before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.

Grabbing the landline, you waste no time in dialling that same number and finally hearing that all-too-sweet ringing. You sat on the bed and sighed, running a hand through your hair as relief washed over you and your composure faltered. Your leg tapped the floor eagerly as you waited.

You were patient, but not this patient. As it kept ringing, your tapping quickened, but it all came to a dead stop when you heard the familiar sound of a line being picked up— the plastic clanking, the subtle huff of someone’s breath- you could almost die…

“Can’t make it to the phone right now, please leave a fun little note after the beep!” … and god did you want to be dead after that one.

You practically threw the handset down onto the dial pad, a cold sweat breaking out at the back of your neck and down your spine. Before long, you picked it back up and tried again.

You had tried it again, and again, and again, and no time was ever different— save for the final straw of your hopeful demeanour. You wanted to desperately shout in frustration, but all you could manage in such a predicament was a simple “Fuck”, muttered almost inaudibly as you threw the handset back down and lifted it one last time.

In the silence that followed this ringing, your stomach dropped. Your hands were steady, somehow, and your breath suddenly slow and shallow. Your head slowly turned itself toward the bedroom’s door.

Right behind that lock and below your feet, it was quiet. You were certain the music had been loud, even when on the top floor and even with four walls and a door in its way. Before the voicemail could sound, you slowly placed the receiver down. Your eyes remained glued to the door, your breath stuck in your throat, and you desperately wished for more time.

In the silence that followed, you had nothing else but your self loathing thoughts. How stupid could you be, to think this was your best outcome. To think— even for a second- you could call your mother, dooming her to the same fate, but get out of this unscathed?

When a harsh gust of wind slammed the window open, your body lunged itself off the bed and toward the bedroom door.

It all happened so quickly, and you felt a close presence follow you down the carpeted steps— which you couldn’t help but wail going down- and followed you to the empty living room.

When you spotted the front door, you would’ve nearly bolted if a hand hadn’t grabbed at your arm and pulled you back. Before you was a face that twisted and mangled itself into something that crawled under your skin. You recognized Marko but blood coated the corners of his mouth, a firm red handprint streaked across his eyes, and it wasn’t something you had wanted to see again. At this exact moment, though you could barely focus on it, the music had resumed. You shrieked.

“Is something wrong?” Marko pulled you snug against him and laughed, and you squirmed at the sight of his sharp teeth and piercing eyes. But hysterically looking elsewhere, you’d finally notice the broken coffee table and fresh blood coating surfaces of the carpet. Following its trails as Marko eagerly pawed at you, you’d finally come to notice the bodies. There were streaks of blood leading to the kitchen— toward the backdoor, and you’re horrified by the putrid smell that meets your senses.

You tugged yourself away, desperate and violently, and Marko seemed to just let go.

Your back hit the couch unceremoniously before you scrambled back to your feet and continued your sprint toward the exit.

You nearly ripped the door off it’s hinges with how quickly you yanked it open. Next were the few familiar steps of the house, which you entirely skipped by leaping off the front porch and bracing for impact by bending your knees. Despite knowing how to fall, your ankles still stung from the action— but you kept running, that’s the important part. You kept running as fast as you could, as far as you could. The field around the house seemed like the only way to go, if you wanted a chance at not being immediately caught, but nothing could have prepared you for the tall plants which nipped and clung to your limbs or the unsteady ground below.

You fall face first into the dirt and swear you swallowed over a handful as you cough out your lungs and continue forward all at once. Loose dirt gives way below your shoes, yet your determination motivates you to move forward.

The mushy soil is slowing you, and you’re growing more frustrated every step.

The plants reach just above you as you continue to run, you shake your legs free from their tangled grips every chance you get, though the rub burns left behind have you sobbing to the open world… your desperation claws at them as you continue to run through the tall grass.

Before long, a heavy weight comes crashing down on you, dragging you forward through the dirt as you try to soften the blow before an eruption of laughter comes next.

“Caught ya.” Dwayne says in a playful tone you’d never quite heard from him before. They’re all hovering above you now, even as your face is casted down and watching the soil, your ears don’t lie so easily.

You’re flipped around and as a last line of defence, though very stupid in hindsight, you cup your hand and throw dirt at your assailants. Dwayne flinches away, clenches his fists. He looks at you with a frustrated huff before almost pouncing back— but David grabs his forearm and anchors him.

“Don’t worry about it.” David says. “Everything sorts itself out in the end.”

David’s hand then comes up to his own face and gently takes the cigarette from between his lips, his stare never wavers. They’re fixed intensely on you, just as he lets out a calm and steady breath… he watches your every move with interest.

Behind him, you notice a light and your eyes blow wide at the realization. Fire reaches up into the sky and smog clouds out the moon too perfectly. You’re stunned for a moment as you reel yourself back into the moment. You can almost smell the searing flesh from here and, as the fire encapsulates the house, you morbidly wonder if anyone had been left alive.

Breathing smoke out into the sky, David smirks. “You get along with the ground so well.” he says, and his boys seem to find it funny.

[teenyweenynightghost]

Haii!! I absolutely adore your writing and was wondering if you would be up to write something comforting with Ethan where reader is having the period from hell? Thank you ❤

Oh ho ho this should be fun

Y/n was sleeping over at Ethan’s for the first time. She had feelings for him for god knows how long, and the night he asked her out was probably the happiest she had ever been.

Their date had been unbelievable. Y/n felt as if time stopped and she was the only person on Earth along with Ethan, as cheesy as that may sound

When it started raining, they both hurried to his car and drove quickly to his place.

“God, I didn’t think the night would end like this.” Y/n chuckled, draining her hair in Ethan’s bathtub, while he was brushing his teeth next to her.

“You can sleep in one of my shirts.” Ethan mumbled, almost choking on the tooth paste

“What?”

“I said” he spit out all the paste and rinsed his mouth “you can sleep in one of my shirts.”

Y/n’s heart skipped a bit and she blushed a bit at his suggestion, before nodding sheepishly and putting her hair in a bun.

Ethan chuckled and muttered a few words Y/n didn’t quite catch, before leaving the room.

In a few moments, he came back with a large t-shirt. It was burgundy and had a logo in the middle. Ethan gave it to Y/n and left her alone to change

That night she had fallen asleep in his warm embrace, listening to the rain drops hit the windows

She felt as if it was a dream come true, and the only thought on her mind was Ethan

Luckily for her, Ethan felt the exact same way

He held her close all night, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck, and dreamed of her

Ethan woke up to a slap. He opened his eyes grumpily and looked for the source of pain, only to see Y/n turned away from him, in that position all girls sleep in; the one where they have a leg up and they’re on their stomach

That’s when he saw that Y/n had started her period

There was a large, red stain seeping through her underwear and another few spots on the bedding

Damn, he shouldn’t have put on white ones

Stretching a bit and getting out of bed, he started to think about what he could do.

He didn’t know how much Y/n trusted him or how she would react to this, so the two smartest choices that he had were to either wake her up and tell her what happened, or prepare everything for when se would wake up

Eventually, he decided going for the latter.

Heading to the living room and grabbing his keys , he got in the car and drove to the nearest pharmacy around.

The man was walking down the unbearably white aisles of the pharmacy, looking for some ibuprofen and tampons

He really didn’t know what type Y/n used, and he wasn’t about to be like that dude on TikTok who asked his girlfriend what size pussy she was, so he took 4 types

Maybe different colors would mean something…or maybe scent?

He made a mental reminder to ask Y/n if they had any flavors

After searching forever, he ended up having a kilogram of pads, three types of sheet masks and a new lotion, but no pain medication

They must have been hidden

Eventually giving up, he went to the cashier and placed all the products on the register

“Tough times with the lady?” The woman asked, sending him an all-too knowing smirk

“I hope not. Speaking of which, do you happen to have any pain medication?”

Ethan left the store smirking, having received a 20% discount for being “so cute”, and he also got a small chapstick as a gift

His next stop was the grocery shop

He already knew what he needed, so the trip would be easy; Twix, KitKat, Puffy Cheetos, Aloe Drink, and A LOT of Chocolate milk

It didn’t take long for him to find everything, so he wondered around the shop for a little longer, picking up a few more things

Y/n was startled awake by some people screaming outside

She jumped out of bed and hurried to the window, only to see that they were a group of friends who were just pranking one another

She groaned and pressed a hand to her stomach, feeling a painful hotness around the area

Looking back at the bed, her heart stopped in her chest as she saw that there was a trail of blood behind her

Oh gods, her period came in the worst moment possible. Did Ethan see? Did he run away out of disgust?

She paced around the room nervously, thinking of what to do, yet ignoring the sound of running water coming from the bathroom

She shrieked when she heard a knock on the door and tried to hide the bloodied sheets as well as she could.

“Cara mia, are you awake?” Ethan’s soft voice was muffled by the door, which only made Y/n feel worse.

“No?”

She heard Ethan chuckle before seeing him enter the room. He seemed to have a reassuring look on his face, but Y/n could tell there was some pity in there too.

“Wanna come with me?” He asked her softly, taking her silky hand in his and leading her to the bathroom before she could answer

Y/n watched as he opened the door to the bathroom and led her inside. The shower was running and there were some clothes on the counter

“Get in the shower. I’ll take care of everything else.” He said, looking at Y/n so softly that her heart exploded and she burst into a fit of tears

His armed were around her in a second, comforting her as best as he could, but he truly did not know the reason why she was crying

“Baby, is everything all right? Why are you crying?” He asked her, worry written all over his face.

“Im sorry…I’m just” she sniffled a bit, shedding a few more tears, “no one ever took care of me when I was on my period and you’re being so fucking sweet and I ruined your sheets and everything is wrong and my stomach hurts and FUCK why did It have to come now we could have-“

“Woah, woah, woah, take a deep breath, dolcezza. Like that, just relax.” He interrupted her ramblings, wiping the tears off her face.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about the sheets. I’ll clean them later. We can just stay in bed all day and relax. How does that sound?”

Y/n nodded slightly against his shoulder, pulling herself away and wiping her face.

“Okay.” Her voice was still raspy, and she looked at the shower. At that moment, washing her entire body felt like an unbelievably long and exhausting process. She slumped her shoulders at the thought of it and puffed.

“Let me wash you. It’ll go by quicker.”

Y/n nodded and started taking her clothes off, too exhausted to care about Ethan’s red face. Even though he had offered, he couldn’t help but think about other circumstances in which he would get in a shower with Y/n.

Regardless, it was not the time for such things.

Once she was inside, he grabbed the shampoo and squirted some in his hand, thinking of a way to lather it on Y/n without getting wet.

“Now how are you gonna do that without ending up in the shower too, Mr Edgar?” Y/n teased, letting her head fall back as the warm water glided down her body.

While trying to find a solution, Ethan’s gaze fell on the floor, which was now filled with blood.

“Y/n are you alright?” His tone instantly changed, now being extremely worried about how much blood came out of her.

“Yeah. Why?” She followed his gaze to the ground, seeing what he was staring at. She let out a low laugh before grabbing the bottle from Ethan.

“It’s creepy, I know. You don’t have to wash me.”

“No. I said I would help and I want to. Do you mind if I join in?” He asked sheepishly, concerned about crossing any boundaries with the girl.

“Whatever floats your boat.”

The man nodded, getting out and taking his clothes off. He placed them neatly next to Y/n’s, then got back in the shower.

Y/n was facing the wall, so Ethan pressed a soft kiss to her neck from behind her.

“I bought some goodies too.”

Y/n just hummed in response, leaning against Ethan. His hands instinctively went to her shoulders and started massaging them, earning a few whimpers from Y/n

“I can give you a massage later…”

“Absolutely.”

They both chuckled a bit, before Ethan got to actually cleaning Y/n. He softly lathered the soap all over her body, letting the water wash away the bubbles.

“Okay…I’m gonna leave you alone now, considering that I don’t know how to put on a tampon.”

“Alright.” Y/n responded, blushing slightly from all the contact. She heard Ethan take a towel and dry himself off, before getting dressed and leaving.

Ethan was in the kitchen, his phone in front of him as he sat prompted against the counter

Now close your eyes, and with a deep breath, release all the pent up frustration inside of you

“Um, Ethan? You said you had food?”

The brunette jumped up and hurried to close his phone, blushing furiously as he turned towards Y/n.

“Yes, right it’s over th-“

“Were you meditating?”

“Maybe.”

“You were.” (The bitch was so horny he had to reset his mind)

“You said you wanted food.” He finally managed to switch the topic, as Y/n’s eyes lit up.

“Gimmie.” She stretched out her arms and closed her hands repetitively, beckoning for Ethan to give her the snacks.

“Alright, alright. I’ll grab a few more things and come. Just go in the bathroom and get in bed.”

Y/n pouted, but eventually followed Ethan’s instructions. She was surprised to see that he had changed the sheets and lit up a few candles. She smiled to herself before cuddling up under the blankets.

Soon enough, Ethan entered the room with some snacks and drinks, a hot pouch and some medication.

“Here is some ibuprofen, if you have cramps, and a hot pouch.”

Y/n could have moaned in pleasure when she placed the hot object on her stomach, relieving a lot of the pain.

She gulped down the pills, cuddling into Ethan, who had an arm wrapped around her and another one massaging her butt.

He nuzzled into her neck, smiling a bit and breathing in her chocolatey scent.

“Squishy.” He joked, squeezing her butt, which made Y/n erupt in a mess of giggles.

She leaned over and grabbed a cereal bar, unwrapping it smoothly before shoving it down her throat.

“Thank you so much Ethan. I really don’t know how to tell you…no one has ever done this for me before.” She whispered, twirling a strand of his hair around her finger.

“I’ll always be here when you need me. Now you just need to sleep.”

“Okay…”

A/n: so i know this isn’t particularly a head canon, but the only way I can write is if my brain thinks im writing something short with bullet points, even though it would be a normal piece If I were to remove them😂

Taglist: @fuckim-so-gay @ginny-lily @messyhairday-me @cheese-toastie-11 @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline @simp-per-ethan @maneskinrollercoaster @juststalking @superchrystaldrug @immrbrightsideeee @shehaddreamstoo @tiaamberxx @victoriadeangeliswifey @bidet-and-legolas @makapaka11 @electra-phoebe

[thedemonconstantine]

thecursedhellblazer​:

“I dun bloody cares if I gots worse. It’s th’ bloody principle, lad,” John grumbled, pocketing the dirty handkerchief and shooting another long, venomous look at Yoyo.

That was all he said on the subject, however, because the large, loud crowd they found in the lobby of the building stole away his attention. His face slacked into a stunned expression before hardening in another frown.

“…Yeh gots to be kiddin’ me.”

That whole trip was starting to feel like one big joke played at his expenses, from all the walking and the stairs climbing down to the endless wait ahead of them.

“Bollocks! No way in bloody ‘Ell,” and wasn’t that ironic?, “I’m fuckin’ waitin’ in line wit’ dis riffraff.”

There were no seats available, of course, and inside the actual waiting area the air was heavy and stiff. The stench of rotten flesh, blood, stomach acid and piss was stronger than it had been in the open lands of Pandemonium. It was almost revolting, even for someone who was used to breathe in big whiffs of the Pit’s very distinctive fragrance.

With a growl, John marched through the crowd and made his way towards the closest counter.

One the way, he tripped in a few hoofs, got his coat caught on a few claws, accidentally knocked over a short horned demon, who, of course, erupted in a stream of expletives, and stepped in a pool of piss, splashing the imp who was standing nearby with it.

Useless to say, by the time he had made it to his destination, he had pissed off every single demon he had passed.

And the crowd just got more irritated when he grabbed the scaled, four-legs creature who had been rummaging around several papers, desperately trying to the the additional ones they hadn’t been told to bring. 

A shove and the already miserable demon landed on the floor with an angry hiss, all his scrolls scattered around.

“Oi, listen up, yeh tosser,” John started, leaning forward as much as the glass that separated him from the bored clerk allowed him too. “We gots a bloody appointment n’ I ain’t waitin’ a bloody decade in line to gots me business done. So jus’ tell me where to find Dahak n’ we can all get on wit’ our day.”

“Sir, you have to wait in line or you will be removed from the premise,” the lemur recited, in the same blank tone of the one that had made the announcement. “Please, go stand in a free spot and avoid making a scene.”

The magician opened his to protest more, but a growl stopped him before he could say another syllable. He turned his head to see a pair of bull-like demons, mouths filled with rows of sharp teeth, slowly approaching. One of them still had the paw of the latest disrupted hanging from the corner of his mouth.

Thus John was left no choice if not backing off and returning to Tim and Yoyo.

“…Bloody fuckin’ ‘ell.” He ran a hand over his face. “Alrite, lad. I guess we’re cuttin’ th’ fuckin’ line n’ sneakin’ in from th’ back. I gots a bloody proposal to make n’ I wants to get it out dis year.”

“You do know that they’d really toss you out and then you’d have to come back in again to take another queue number. That’s part of the gag,” Tim said the obvious just to get it out of the way. He pried Yoyo off his shoulder to fit the owl into the front of his hoodie. The cosier the bird got, the less irate it would be at John.

Smelly Smoke Man die... Timmy warm and cosy Timmy. Cosy and warm Timmy...

“Yes, Yoyo, now be good and stay there whilst we figure out how to move this along. Why actually...” “S67003426B to Counter 5,” Said the speaker overhead.

A simple prestidigitation spell should do the trick. Tim swapped their ticket with the one demon who was making his way towards Counter 5, took John’s arm and dragged the man along.

“Ahem,” Said Tim who waved the swapped ticket at the imp seated at Counter 5, having cut in front of the demon. The poor creature blinked and squinted at the ticket in his claws and groaned, threw both hands in the air and shuffled back to wait with the rest.

“I believe it’s our turn to be escorted to Dahak’s offices?” 

“State your name and business,” The imp leered over his scrolls and books and tried his very best to look important.

“I’ll have to announce you, you know.”

[enjennie]

Stay [ Lee Jeno x Reader ]

Summary: You find yourself in a dark room at a party underneath the basketball captain Lee Jeno. And he might just have a thing for you.

genre: Smut! (minors begone!) Fluff. 

warnings: contains smut and profanity. losing virginity + unprotected sexc time (pls practice safe segz)

a/n: my second smut ... i’m still testing the waters and this isn’t proofread but i just wanted to write smth to destress. also yes there is lack of foreplay bc im not too familiar with writing that yet but i hope it's not too bad !! enjoy ♡

The room was both dark and unfamiliar, but you push yourself into it without a second thought. Jeno’s arms are wrapped around your waist securely, lips molded together in an electrifying kiss that sent waves of euphoria all over your body. Jeno wasn’t any more familiar than the room. Not to you, of course. You knew all about him, but not the other way around. You were a stranger to him. Or so you believed. But none of that mattered to you in the moment. It should have. Yes. You kissed him. Yes. You initiated it. So why were you so confused on why it was leading to a very heated make out and possibly into… sex?

The music from the party you’d both left downstairs is muffled by the shutting of the door but what was really drowning it out was Jeno taking you into another world of your own as his lips drift from yours down to your neck while his hands touch you in places you’ve never been touched before. It all felt like a dream. But his voice brings you back to reality, proving that this all was in fact real.

“Are you okay with this?” he breathlessly asks. You’d both gone from the door and were now on the bed, with him towering over you looking mighty as ever. Godlike. Jeno the basketball team captain, whom you’ve crushed on for years was in front of you, had just kissed you back. You gave him a nod, not having it in you to construct a sentence by how baffled you were. “You’re not…drunk, are you?” he tilts his head to the side, inspecting your face in the dim light the moon provided.

“I barely had anything to drink,” you shyly confessed. You’d been throwing out your drink in bushes and every shot you took were mostly infused with soda. But Jeno knew. Jeno noticed it all. He chuckled, dipping his head closer to yours. Close enough that he caught a whiff of your perfume, close enough to hear how your breath hitched in your throat with the sudden proximity between you two. “Me too,” he quietly whispers into your ear.

So why was this happening right now? If it isn’t because of the heavy alcohol intoxicating you both to make unsure decisions, why were you in a room with Jeno when you were both very much sober and aware of what was going to happen? It wasn’t like you were the only girl at this party. Why was basketball captain Lee Jeno in the room with you, student council secretary Y/N, right now? Isn’t it an odd pairing?

You couldn’t think about any of that. Not when his lips are on yours again and they’re all you could think about. It didn’t take long before his shirt was on a pile on the floor along with yours. Jeno drew circles on your waist with his thumb as he grinded against your needy area. Your fingers laced through his while the other found itself entangled in his hair. Jeno let out a low growl when you pulled on his roots, and you can’t keep the smug smile from appearing on your face at the thought of him reacting this way because of your doing.

He didn’t waste a second more, he lined his tip against your entrance after pushing your skirt up and panties aside and thrusted himself inside you, making you yelp louder than you’d intended. You forgot to mention the fact that you were a virgin. Never have gone past the third base. Jeno drew in a sharp breath at your tightness and seemed to notice that the sound you’d made was more pain than it was pleasure. The boy propped himself up to peer at you. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gone so rough,” he apologized, concern flooding his face.

“I’m… I’m a virgin,” you let the cat out of the bag. It settled in the air for a while, hovering above the both of you in the dead silent room. You couldn’t look at his face. Out of embarrassment and shame. But Jeno placed a hand against your face, framing it and letting you look into his honey brown eyes in the darkness. “You’ve never done it before?” he whispers.

I ruined it. You thought. Maybe I should’ve told him I’ve already done it…

“C’mon,” he snaps you back into reality by pulling away and you see him holding his hand out to you. You stare at it, not knowing what to do in this situation. “Give me your hand,” Jeno smiled softly at you, his face completely changed as if he isn’t balls deep inside you right now.

You take his hand and he threads your fingers together, gripping yours firmly in his and pushing it down on the mattress. “Hold onto me, tell me how you like it,” Jeno shifts his body, pulling himself out of you, leaving you empty. Hollow. The friction made you gasp for air, which melted into a moan. You let your nails prick him on the hand from how hard you were holding his as he entered once again, slower this time. The stretch was painful, but so good. Jeno watched your face change from depicting pain to a mixture of pleasure. Such a sinful expression on an angelic face. You could feel him get harder inside you as he continued to thrust in a controlled pace.

“You okay” he asked softly. His mouth is by your ear and you can hear his soft panting. You let out a hum, too overwhelmed by what you were feeling to make up a reply. “Use your words, baby,” he urged.

“I feel great,” you breathlessly sighed back, just as his tip hit a new spot that felt otherworldly. “Fuck-,” you moaned. Jeno paused, biting on your neck, trying to restrain himself from going fucking you senseless.

“Keep going,” you directed. Jeno’s eyes grew dark from hearing your sultry voice telling him what to do. He pushed himself deeper, earning a delicious moan from you. Jeno bucked his hips and continuously rammed himself into you, filling you up with each thrust. He was pushing you into the soft mattress and had your thighs spread apart to give him space between them.

The sensation you felt gradually built up in your stomach as you cried out his name, your moans filling the empty room. Shutting your eyes and letting yourself indulge in the feeling Jeno gave you, the knot in your stomach tightened. He peppered your chest with kisses before his thrusts began to get sloppier, you noticed he was close. You let yourself look up at him and the sight of you was enough to send him to the edge as a string of curses along with your name escaped his mouth as he came. You clenched your walls around Jeno as you felt your orgasm hit moments after. Jeno slowed his pace down before pulling out completely and collapsed beside you, falling on the mattress of the poor stranger’s bed where you’d just lost your virginity in.

Your head was spinning and your hearts hammering as you came down from your highs. You turn to him, pushing your skirt down to cover your thighs.

“Did you enjoy th-,”

“That was amazi-,”

You both interrupt each other as you spoke, and you chuckle as he let you go first.

“That was amazing,” you finished your sentence. Jeno looked at you, his smile prominent on his face and his eyes displaying crescents. “Yeah? You’re not too bad yourself, made me forget that this is Hyucks’ parents bed,”  

That was enough to get you to spring off of the bed, looking back at it in horror. Jeno cracks up laughing, sitting up and reaching for your shirt before handing it over to you and pulling his own over his head. “Let’s go somewhere else,” he says, his tone suggestive. You knew it was to ask for a greenlight. It was surprising he even wanted to spend more time with you after the sex. The question brought a smile to your face as you put your shirt back on.

“Let’s get out of here,” you tell him. Jeno smiled at you, pushing the hair that covered his view behind your ears.

 That night, as you and Jeno sped away in his convertible with the top down, you let the cool wind run through your hair and engulfed the summer breeze. Jeno watched in awe, while he drove you to the hill with the best view of the city. He didn’t know how this was happening, when you both had never spoken before. It was always him and his little crush on you, going unnoticed. Shy glances from across the room at the girl who thought she was invisible when in fact you brought light into every room you walked into, almost like the sun followed you around.

But it was senior year. Fuck it, he thought. He’d heard you got into the college of your choice and it wasn’t in town. Jeno had decided on a whim that night, as he watched you bob your head to the song playing while mouthing the words along, that he was gonna tell you how crazy in love he was for you. When you disappeared into the hallway looking for the toilet, Jeno had followed you in a rush. To profess his adoration for you, tell you how you were the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. However, before he could spit it out, you’d kissed him. You didn’t know what came over you, in the moment it just felt right. It turns out to be the best decision you’ve ever made.

He pulled over, and you admired the view upon you. Twinkling lights from the bustling city of traffic and skyscrapers. Jeno turned the engine off, leaving you both in the sounds of nature around you. Crickets and the distant sign of life in the city. Cars beeping and music playing from different homes as seniors were having their party to celebrate the end of examinations. You looked at Jeno and he cupped your cheeks with his hand before pulling you in for another sweet kiss.

Unreal.

He pulled you easily onto his lap. How could you be so comfortable with a man you’ve technically just met? You felt like you could trust him with your life.

“We skipped all the formalities,” you murmured as you dipped your head close to his. Jeno lowered his gaze to your lips which made you subconsciously wet them with your tongue. He smiled sheepishly, leaning in and giving you a peck. “Then let’s start from the beginning,” He plants a kiss on your lips before pulling away after each one. “Hi-,”

Kiss.

“My name is-,”

Kiss.

“Lee Jeno,”

Kiss.

“Will you go out with me?”

[wypapichulo]

𝟕 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬.

pairing ; lee donghyuck x reader genre ; fluff, very very slight angst / high school au word count ; 5010 words warnings ; some explicit language? the use of the word 'shit' a few times? playlist ; dive into you – nct dream | walk you home – nct dream | best friend – rex orange county | anti-romantic – txt | can't take my eyes off you – frankie valli | backyard boy – claire rosinkranz author's note ; i hope the ending doesn't sound too rushed,, aah i just lost the vibe and wanted to get it done ;,, i hope it's alright🚶 dt ; @matchaeee <3

Making someone you don't know fall for you would have been easier. Making your best friend fall in love with you? A little bit more of a hassle But not unless they've been in love with you from the start.

“I can make her fall in love with me in 7 days”

Haechan had said this whilst he was sitting on the sidewalk in front of the small convenience store beside an exasperated looking Jeno. “Hyuck, I’m pretty sure you can’t.”, “No I’m confident!” He continued, sipping his carbonated drink and cutting Jeno off as he spoke, “Look– I know her inside and out, I’m sure I know just the right tricks to make her fall for me!”

Jeno sighed slightly, knowing it was no use to force Haechan to listen to him. “You shouldn’t play with feelings like this…” He started, taking a sip of his own soda, “Can’t you just tell her you like her like a normal person–“, “you’re seriously no fun.” Jeno deadpanned at the statement, hand ready to reach for the brunets to pull his fingers back, “I just wanna see if she really likes me back for real!” he said, hands fidgeting with the rim of the soda can, “I don’t know, what if she doesn’t like me and rejects me when I ask her!”

“So the only logical way to fix that is by ‘making her fall in love with you in seven days’?!” Jeno exclaimed, nearly in tears at his own friend’s stupidity. Haechan grinned, “well if she doesn’t like me yet, she’ll definitely like me by the end of this.”

“I’m going to forget about him in the next 7 days.”

Renjun looked up in surprise at the girl’s statement, never having thought of the day she’d finally say it.

“You won’t.” He stated simply, continuing to sketch the tree outside the window of her room. She whined slightly, turning her attention to the boy in her room, “and what makes you say that?”

“You said that two years ago.”, “I was younger then!”, “Sure you were.”

She groaned, falling back on her bed with a thud, “I need to try… this one-sided shit is getting to me…”

Turning to look at the heap of sadness on the bed, Renjun sighed quietly. “I definitely won’t question you if you tell me you’re still in love with him by the end of it.”

“I’m only trying right?”

DAY 1

“How you doin’ gorgeous~”

To say she was shocked was an understatement. What?

“What do you want Hyuck.” She asked with a deadpan, staring down at the blank page of her notebook. Her plan was to study but it seemed as if the man duped as her best friend had other ideas. “I don’t want anything! Can’t I say nice things about you?” He said, taking the seat across from her.

The library was quiet, save for the few students chattering mutedly by the computers. The whole day Haechan had been fine– normal, so to speak… He sat next to her as usual during lunch–as they barely shared any classes this school year–and joked around for a bit, he stole the milk that she had painstakingly waited behind a line of first years to buy, giving her a presumably empty promise that he’d buy her another one… but then he came in the library and said that?

“You’ve never called me that before,” she scoffed, “and if you have, I’d remember.”

Of course she would. Somehow every compliment he had given her always stuck in her mind, even the few ingenuine ones that came out as jokes. The time he called her quick witted when she replied to one of his jokes, the time he said she was pretty good at math’s when she had explained to him how to find an axis… And of course there was the time he had exclaimed how she was prettier than the girl she had been talking shit about… not one of her best feats but... it was something.

So to have him call her gorgeous, even if it was just as a passing nickname… it was something that made her cheeks burn when she remembered his exact wording of the sentence.

“Well that doesn’t matter does it?” he said, leaning over the table to read through the same passage as she had been going through for the last hour, trying to fit anything and everything in her head. “Are you having trouble with anything?”

“Nothing you can help me with.” She scoffed, turning a page. “Aw, come on, don’t say that!” he laughed aloud, earning him an abundance of shushes from the few students scattered around the area. “I’m sure I, with my great expertise, can help you in some way with–“ he looked down at the chapter’s name, “intercontinental… exchange… what the hell is this–“

She laughed lightly at his confusion, “It’s economics,” she smiled, making his heart race with anticipation for some unknown reason, “you won’t get it.”

“Well maybe if you taught me, I’d understand.” He chuckled softly, sitting properly once more and sighing as he stared at the soft curve of her lips. She blushed lightly, realizing the direction of his eyes and looking back down to her book.

Barely the first day and she was already smitten once more with him… she wondered if she’d ever manage to escape from the trap that was Lee Donghyuck.

DAY 2

Closing her locker up, she nearly went into cardiac arrest as she saw none other than Haechan leaning on the locker right beside hers.

“Donghyuck! You almost gave me a heart attack!” she exclaimed, heart pounding at a thousand beats per second… or not– maybe she was just exaggerating…

He smirked, an image that had always and forever will be engraved into the crevices of her mind. “I hope that’s a good thing?”

She merely rolled her eyes at him, shoving her textbook into her backpack. “no.” she stated with a deadpan, turning to walk away. “Wait uppp!” he whined, following along behind the exasperated girl. If Jeno was tired of him, then she was something else entirely. How she managed to keep up with the outgoing boy was a mystery even to herself.

“Are you busy this weekend?” he asked as he caught up with her and took long steps to follow along with her short quick paces, “I was thinking maybe we could go to that new café that just opened– you know, the library one?”

She kept on walking, but her pace slowed significantly. A small tell to her interest in the subject. He smiled.

“You don’t even like reading much.” She said with a chuckle, “why’d you wanna go there?” She asked softly glancing up at him. “Well… you like reading… so–“ he shrugged slightly “–I thought you’d enjoy it…”

See this was the thing about him. Whenever she had made a commitment to stop thinking about him–leave her feelings for him in the dust–he’d always come back strong, making her feel as if he never wanted her to stop liking him. But what could she do? It seemed as if he never had the slightest interest in being anything other than friends.

She smiled softly, sighing as she opened her mouth to give out a small, “alright.” As her answer to his invitation.

“Great! It’s a date!”

The four words stopped her in her tracks between the horde of students walking to and from to get to their classes.

He only grinned, turning to face her as he walked backwards. “I’ll see you after class!”

She was frozen in place it seemed. Blinking as she watched the retreating back of the boy who had… just asked her out?

Again, confusion had begun to settle in. Was this ‘date’ meant to be a romantic date? Or just– one where they hung out as friends and had coffee?

In her confusion, she had forgotten to ask him about the exact day of which their little ‘date’ was supposed to be on�� but she was sure he’d text her everything she needed to know about it, right down to the dress code.

Retracing her thoughts, maybe she was wrong… this might have been the first time he’d ever shown any interest in being anything more than friends… And to be quite honest, it may or may not have scared her…

What would she do if it turned out he really had feelings for her…? DAY 3

“I thought you said you were going to stop liking him.”

She had found Renjun in the art room as per usual, painting away at whatever his heart had decided to explore. The golden particles drifted in from the late afternoon sun as she had just finished up her own after school activity. “I want to… But he’s making it so hard!” she exclaimed, sitting on a table to the side at the back of the room.

Renjun was somehow her only sane friend, and even so, he preferred to stay out of her messy love life with the undeniably annoying Haechan. Not to mention that he couldn’t even talk to Haechan without bursting a nerve. “I don’t understand how you don’t see how annoying the boy is.” He said nonchalantly as he continued to mix and match an array of greens to the trees he had started on. “Just thinking of that should be enough to stir you away from him.”

Sighing in aggravation to her situation, she sticked out her tongue at the back of his head. “I saw that.” He stated, barely even looking up from his canvas. “’course you did…” she grumbled lowly, pouting and looking out of the window.

“That’s just the thing…” she started, her tone soft and her eyes unfocused, “he’s not… annoying…”

Renjun scoffed aloud, nearly keeling over in laughter. “Are you sure about that?” He said in between his dying giggles, turning to finally look at the girl who was now looking at him with an unamused look. “Shut up– you know what I mean!” she cried out in annoyance. He made a face, turning back to his painting and continuing to work on the piece. “Really, when you get to know him– he’s more than that!” she tilted her head back to rest on the cool wall of the classroom.

“Today he actually got me the milk I wanted…” she muttered softly, “It’s not much of course… but…”

“You said the other day that you had to wait a long time to get the milk cause of those underclassmen, so– y’know– I got it for you.”

“But it’s enough for you to stay deeply in love with him isn’t it.” Renjun sighed, knowing that she would start yelling as soon as the thought sunk in her head.

To his surprise, she didn’t. She simply sat in thought in the back of the class, watching as Renjun shrugged and continued with his painting. She mulled it over, what he said, and came to the personal conclusion that he in fact was right. It was no use in fighting the feeling. She really did care for him… a little afraid to say love– but she cared for him immensely nonetheless.

She got off the table and walked towards where Renjun sat with his canvas and patted his shoulder lightly.

“Thanks Renjunnie.”

“I told you not to call me that… makes me sound like a child...” He murmured, rolling his eyes before continuing, “what are you even thanking me for anyways? I didn’t do anything. The feelings were there the whole time.”

Her lips turned up slightly, and she hummed softly before walking towards the door.

“You did more than you think.” She said, turning to look at him once more as she opened the door. He merely looked at her in puzzlement, not understanding just how he had helped her in her quest of love. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow!”

“Yeah… see you…” he muttered quietly, his eyebrows still furrowed in confusion, before shaking his head as the door fell shut.

“Why are all my friends so weird…”

DAY 4

The living room of her house was spacious.

Very much so that she wondered why it felt as if she couldn’t even get a distance away from the clingy boy.

Haechan had come over to help her with some of her class work she was struggling with, and truly, she couldn’t thank him enough for the help… but why did he have to sit so close to her?

He had been reading a passage out to her from the book, shoulders brushing ever so slightly against one another, causing her cheeks to flare with heat. Every single move he made seemed to make her tense up all the more.

She was never like this! Each time they had studied together, even as much as she liked him, it never caused her to blush or fidget as much as she was doing now.

Maybe it was the effect of realizing that he might like her after all… The last three days were such an improvement in that area of their relationship that it made her wonder if he actually had liked her all along and just decided to showcase it all now.

“And that’s why the tectonic pressure in this area is much larger than here.” He explained– arm stretching slightly over her to point at an image on the book. For some unknown reason, she had held her breath ever so slightly as to maybe become stone in the next few seconds. He turned to look at her– their faces not too far from one another, and it was like time had stopped right in that moment, just to make her realize how much trouble she was in by falling for this forsaken boy. She could feel her face redden to the deep color of the roses on the front porch of her house, and suddenly, all she wanted to do was melt into a puddle right there and then.

Oddly enough, he seemed to be reactionless. It was as if the proximity of their faces had absolutely no effect on his own heart, bringing up the question in her mind once more whether he actually held any feelings for her other than the simple platonic ones.

“You weren’t paying attention were you?”

Her eyebrows raised to her hairline, quite literally, at the accusing statement he had thrown upon her. “I– Hey! I was listening!”

Suddenly every single feeling of embarrassment left her body as she pushed him playfully, as a means to get away from him as well. He yelped aloud, his back hitting the couch. “You weren’t!” he called out, a smile beginning to grow on the edges of his lips, “I can tell when you’re listening and when you’re not! And here, you were clearly not!”

She laughed loudly, throwing her head back as she did so. It had been ages since she had laughed so freely, and Haechan soaked up every single moment of it. His smile softened as he watched she tips of her eyes crinkle up and turn into crescents– the sound of her laughter as melodious as his own favorite song. In the moment, he wished so dearly he could just reach over and kiss her face all over, his heard filling up with affection he wished to shower her with.

Her laughter died down and she simply turned to look at him with a look in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place. “I really haven’t laughed that much in a while…” she said softly, watching as he nodded in listening. “I can tell.”

She giggled lightly once more. “Should we go back to studying?” she asked, a teasing smile gracing her features, to which he merely scoffed and laughed at.

“Only if you’ll listen properly this time.”

Another 3 days to go. If he was able to successfully make her fall for him, he’d be able to do all he wanted and more. DAY 5

So maybe accepting a walk home from the person you’re trying to forget about isn’t the best strategy to go with… but– in defense, Haechan had been more the one to tag along home, rather than ask her if she wanted anyone to walk her.

She had gotten used to it… but with the antics of the past week and the upcoming date on the Sunday (Yes he had given her all the information the night before. Yes he sent her every available picture there was of the place. Yes he was very excited and honestly, so was she.), who wouldn’t?

As Saturday was a day where she and the rest of the ’00 liners’–as they all preferred to call themselves (though their whole school year was the ’00 line’ so honestly that nickname was rather stupid)–usually had a game night at either Jeno or Jaemin’s house, both she and Haechan had settled on going to the cute little library-esque café on the Sunday.

The whole way home, Haechan couldn’t help but stare softly as she recounted the events of the day. Again, being in different classes had its perks, as there was always something new to tell each other about.

Every step he took felt heavier. He knew they both were getting closer to her house– every time he saw a bench on the side of the street his instinct would tell him to sit down with her and just talk for longer, wanting to keep all her minutes for himself selfishly.

“So that’s why she was kicked out of the class today– I honestly can’t believe she had the nerve to pull that off!” laughing slightly, she turned to face Haechan, “I’m sure you’d do some stupid shit like that too.”

Haechan snapped out of his short daze if not to cry out words of denial, causing her to laugh even louder at his insistence that he would not blend and eat drink his homework just to get extra time on a project.

“After all, I’m not stupid– I don’t need extra project time since I’m just that smart!” He huffed, glancing to the girl beside him to see if he had gauged a reaction out of her. To his delight, she laughed once more, letting him relish in her melodic laughter. “you’re really full of yourself you know?”

This erupted another fit of laughter and denial to spurt from the two, pitter patting home for the day. “I’m not full of myself! I’m just confident!”, “same difference, Hyuck.” She said between breaths as her laughter finally died down.

He merely huffed and pouted­– turning to the side and glancing at her a few times to gain her remorse for her mean words ; it clearly didn’t work as all she did was giggle softly and shook her head.

The brush of the back of their hands made his heart pound faster. He glanced down to look and there it was, the soft hand he wanted to hold in his so much. He looked back up in a panic– noticing that they were getting closer to her house.

Unknown to him, her heart was just as heavy at the thought of having to part with him for the day. Though she knew tomorrow would be another day that would definitely be spent with him, it made her sorrowful to think of the fact that they’d have to be apart for the night. Cheesy as it may seem.

As they stood in front of the pathway up to her front door, he debated internally on whether or not he should do what he wanted to do or not, his head spinning at the thought of her maybe thinking he was an idiot for what he was about to do. She smiled up at him, a silent goodbye being exchanged between them, before turning around to walk up the pavement to her house.

“(Y/N)!”

Her feet stopped, and in turn, so did her heart. In a good way, of course, but it stopped nonetheless. She stayed silent for a moment before turning to face the brunet once more. “Yeah?” she asked quietly, a soft smile present on her features.

His mouth dried up. He had nothing to say– stupid! Why did he stop her like that then?

“I– Uh…” he faltered in his words; eyes still stuck on her face. Lips, to be specific.

She tilted her head slightly in question, wondering what was going through that enigma of a mind everyone called Haechan. “Hyuck?”

He smiled and shook his head, opting to grin at her like the idiot in love he was. “Until we meet again tomorrow~” he said in a mock posh accent which made her giggle lightly behind her hand. She merely shook her head and turned once more, walking up to her front door and opening it slowly, turning to give him one last smile before she closed the door.

There he stood like a lovestruck fool in the middle of her driveway as he watched her back turn as she finally walked into the house.

“I wish I had the courage to give you that hug…” DAY 6

Jeno’s house was the choice of the week, Haechan and Jaemin having pestered him into agreement over where they’d all be bundling into for the afternoon.

“I really don’t see why it should have to be my house!” Jeno whined as he stepped into the living room with snacks in hand, “It was already my house last week! It should be nana’s this week…” he trailed off, grumbling as he stepped over the legs of a serious Haechan and sat between the sole girl in their group and Jaemin on the floor. Jaemin laughed aloud, “you have the comfiest sofa!” he hollered out, earning him a kick from Renjun, who’s legs he was sitting in between.

“You’re not even sitting on the sofa,” Renjun retaliated for Jeno, cutting him some slack, “you’re leaning on my legs.”

“Well they sure are comfy if that’s what you’re implying.” Jaemin said, pressing at the buttons erratically as he flurried to beat Haechan at what seemed to be a simple game of mario kart. Hey, anything to beat Haechan right?

“DAMN!” Haechan yelled, causing the girl seated beside him to jump slightly in her seat. Jaemin only laughed, leaning his head up to look at an unimpressed Renjun.

“Hyuck give me the controller, I’m gonna beat Jaemin.” Renjun said with some form of courage to beat the one and only Nana. “Sure you are,” he said, standing up and handing the controller over to Renjun. “Anymore soda anyone?” he asked, stepping to the side to head over to the kitchen. “I’ll have a soda!”, “alrighty! One soda coming right up!” Haechan called out, turning right out to the kitchen.

“I’m gonna run out of sodas at the rate you’re drinking them…” Jeno murmured to her softly, a giggle erupting out of her lips, “fine then– I’ll have a cup of tea instead, ‘s that better?” she asked softly, smiling at the black-haired boy beside her. Jeno smiled back, his eyes disappearing behind his perfect crescents, “I’ll go get you some then.” He said, standing up from his seat to get her some tea.

Walking into the kitchen, he tutted lightly as he found Haechan going through his fridge. “And what if my mom was the one who had walked in?” Jeno stated with a deadpan, rolling his eyes at the idiotic grin his friend gave him. “First off– she’s not home. Second off– your mom loves me!” Haechan exclaimed, closing the fridge behind him after finding nothing of his interest. He picked up the sodas on the counter– before Jeno stopped him. “She changed her mind on the sodas, said she’d have tea instead.” He explained, moving to the cabinets to take out some tea to brew for her, to which Haechan simply hummed in understanding before cracking one of the soda cans open and sipping it.

“So…” Jeno started, turning to face him as he leaned on the counter behind him, “how’s the love quest?” He queried, wondering about his best friends own pursuit of love. “Is she ‘in love’ with you yet?”

Haechan shrugged slightly, “I sure hope she is… if not then I’m not sure what I’m gonna do tomorrow…”

“Why… What’s tomorrow?” Jeno questioned again, tilting his head in confusion. In Haechan’s mind… he looked rather like a lost puppy…

“Date.” The only word that came out of Haechan’s mouth as he stared with a smirk on his face to the boy standing opposite him.

Jeno’s eyes widened significantly, “Date? You mean you asked her out successfully?”

Haechan grinned, “Of course I did!”, he boasted smugly, “only a fool wouldn’t be able to make her fall in love! Especially with the shitty dudes she’s liked before.”

Jeno looked up in glee, “then– after that– my days of hell are over! I won’t have to listen to your lamenting again!” He whined when Jeno exclaimed that, shaking his head, “I wasn’t lamenting, you were the one who complained about my topic of conversation–“ he paused, rolling his eyes at the grinning puppy-like boy.

“Alright fine maybe I was,” he agreed begrudgingly, “But hey! I managed to make her fall in love with me AND score a date in 7 days! My lamenting wasn’t for nothing after all!”

Their shared laughter was cut short by the sound of the slamming of the front door and the cries of both Renjun and Jaemin. Haechan looked up worriedly at Jeno, who in turn gestured him to the kitchen exit.

“what’s wrong?” Haechan asked once he reached by the front door beside the other two boys. “You!” Renjun seethed, turning to glare at the brunet, “She was already trying to forget about you and now you play with her feelings like this!”

Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, Haechan scoffed, “I never played her like shit! I was always honest!”, “Then tell me what this stupid 7 day bet is all about!” Renjun yelled in his face, angry for his best friend who had muffled out in tears the short reason she was leaving so early.

“Bet?” he questioned, truly confused as to the entirety of the situation, “what fucking bet?”

Renjun rolled his eyes, “Don’t play stupid Donghyuck. You were talking to Jeno about some 7 day bet to get her to like you or something–”, “wait, this is all wrong!” Jeno exclaimed, “We never made a bet! Hyuck wanted to confess to her at the end of the week, and that’s why the whole week he had been making proper advances to her…”

The room stilled as the clarity of the situation which was misunderstood settled into their heads.

“I need to talk to (Y/N).” DAY 7

Checking her phone, she grumbled slightly, rereading the message that Haechan had sent to her the evening prior, or rather, spammed her endlessly.

hyuck ♡ : please come tomorrow.

hyuck ♡ : i really really have to talk to you about this :((

hyuck ♡ : please please please

hyuck ♡ : I don’t know what I’ll do if you don’t come :(((

hyuck ♡ : please? At least consider it?

Sighing quietly as she scrolled through the abundance of messages of theirs from previous sleepless nights, she jumped when she heard the call of the voice she had cried herself to sleep over the night before. Oh his treacherous voice, hurting her feelings like that with the words that came out of his wretched mouth yesterday.

“(Y/N)!” he said, jogging up to her with a grin spread on his face, almost as if yesterday had been a dream and she had simply hallucinated the entire event. But she knew better than to believe him that fast.

Giving him a curt nod, she spoke up before anything could leave his mouth– “Tell me, Donghyuck, what happened yesterday?” she started, face hard with the cut still deep in her heart. His smile faltered, realizing just how much his words had hurt her feelings the day before.

“Do you take my feelings as a joke?” she asked again, looking to her feet in fear of her eyes betraying her and leaving tear stains across her cheeks, “because if you do then i–“

“No!” he cut, knowing that if he let this go on for longer it would only hurt her more, “No, I’d never!”

She was quiet, listening to the sound of his ragged breathing, almost as if the quietness would let her hear the sound of his heartbeat.

“Then what… what…”

He sighed softly, “I was… scared.”

Looking up, she was met with the troubled face of the person she once thought to be the largest of mysteries. “I didn’t want to be faced with rejection, I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you, as a friend or as…” he cleared his throat slightly, turning to the side, “as something more.”

The tension was thick, the street around them continuing on its route of life whilst they both stood in their own quiet bubble. Her eyes softened at his statement, the pieces of the puzzle which was Haechan starting to become clearer by every word.

“And you thought the most logical way to go, was to ‘make me fall in love with you in seven days’? come on Hyuck we’re not in some stupid romance movie–“, Haechan’s whine cut her voice short, “You sound just like Jeno now!” he cried, making her laugh softly, before stepping forward to take his hand in hers.

He looked down at their intertwined hands and looked right back up at her questioningly. “what…”

“If you liked me, you really should have just said so…” she muttered softly, shaking her head with a slight giggle, “If you did, it definitely would have saved us 7 days.”

He grinned widely, “so this… makes us boyfriend and girlfriend now, right?” he asked, grin turning into a teasing smirk on his face, making the girl before him scoff and laugh.

“We’ll see in 7 days.”

[disturbedbydesign]

The Widow and the Wolf - Chapter 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x dark!exWidow!reader

Summary: After Natasha Romanoff took down the Red Room, the former Widows scattered to the wind. Raised to be a killing machine and released into the world with nothing and no one, you decided to use your newfound autonomy to take down the bad guys of your choosing. But now Natasha is riddled with guilt for leaving you on your own. She wants to recruit you, rehabilitate you, make you part of a team again. But the rest of the squad has reservations, and no one is more against you than Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: Graphic violence; Mentions of domestic violence, rape, pedophilia, human trafficking, child sex trafficking; eventual Dubcon (not Bucky); eventual smut; slow(ish) burn enemies-to-lovers. [More warnings will be added as necessary but these are the Big Bads.] 18+ only, no minors.

A/N: This is canon-adjacent in that I just decided to pick and choose who I wanted to write for and what parts of canon I wanted to use. Best not to think too hard about where it falls on the timeline because the canon is a mess and we all kind of hate it anyway.

If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here.

Chapter One

You’ve been tracking him for days, not that it was hard. His patrol schedule is always the same, as is his after-hours routine: drinks at the Irish pub on Reade Street with the other boys in blue. It’s a cop bar but you waltz right in, looking lost even though you know the name, rank, and various misdeeds of every guy in the place. He looks at you, because of course he does—his wife assured you that he has a wandering eye, among his other sins.

You take a seat at the bar. “Double vodka rocks, please.”

The bartender pours you your drink and you take a deep pull, savoring the burn of it. Then you wait, but it doesn’t take long—it never does. Sergeant Thompson sidles up to the barstool next to you.

“Hey darlin,” he says, his breath reeking of cheap beer. “You lost?”

You turn to him with an innocent smile. “Evening, officer.”

“It’s Sergeant,” he says, tapping his badge, “but I won’t hold that against you. So, what’s a pretty young thing doing in a dive bar with a bunch of old men?”

“I was supposed to meet a friend for dinner but she bailed on me. Figured I’d grab a drink before I head home.”

“And where is home?” he asks, not that it’s any of his business, but cops think they deserve answers to any questions they feel like asking.

“Williamsburg,” you lie.

“You’re pretty far from home, then,” he replies, even though you both know that you aren’t. He takes a sip of his beer and the foam leaves a trace like a mustache before he licks it clean. “It’s late. Why don’t you let me drive you? Wouldn’t want you on the subway this time of night.”

“It’s only 8:30,” you say. “I think I’ll be just fine.”

He leans in conspiratorially. “Well, I really shouldn’t be telling you this—open investigation and all that—but we’ve been on the lookout for a guy in the area, serial rapist, real nasty piece of work.”

That’s one thing the two of you have in common at least.

“I’d feel a lot better if you’d let me take you home, darlin.”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” you admit. “Can’t get much safer than the NYPD, right?”

He laughs and so do you, knowing that nothing is farther from the truth—especially when it comes to this guy.

Sergeant Thompson speeds across the Williamsburg Bridge with his flashers on, headed toward the address you gave him. Of course, that’s not actually your address—you don’t have a home anymore—it’s just one of many rundown warehouses in the neighborhood, variously used for impromptu raves and as drug dens and, in your case, a private place in which you can take care of business without fear of being interrupted.

“This is me,” you say, waiting for him to let you out of the back of the cruiser where he insisted you ride—caged in like a helpless animal, or so he thinks.

“This place?” he asks. “Looks like it’s about to collapse.”

“You’d be surprised what they can do to these places on the inside—gentrification and what have you. My rent is astronomical.”

“Still,” he says, “I’d like to walk you up. Looks a bit unsavory.”

“If you insist, Sergeant.”

The second you get up the stairs to the top floor, you inject him with the etorphine, straight into the jugular, and down he goes. It never gets old—how easy it is, when they think that they are the predator and you are the prey. You drag him into the loft where you’re already set up for a long night’s work.

When he comes to, he’s fixed to the chair with (among other things) his own handcuffs, mouth taped shut and a rag shoved in for good measure. You don’t want to hear him talk; it’s time for him to listen. His day of reckoning has come. He starts to squirm but between the cuffs and the duct tape and the sedative still coursing through his veins, he’s not going anywhere. Even if he did get free, you could take him down easy. It’s what you were trained for. It’s what you were born for.

“Welcome back, Sergeant,” you say, and he screams something unintelligible through the rag which, if you had to guess, would be some combination of “cunt” or “bitch” or any of the other choice words he likes to use on his women.

The tarps are laid meticulously around the room, placed strategically to catch any and all evidence of what you’re about to do. When he notices them, he goes still, because he knows. Part of him knows.

“So,” you say, pulling out the Thompson file, “this is quite the impressive resume you’ve got here, Sarge. Lots of civilian brutality complaints, including a few choice allegations from female prisoners. Oh, and then there’s the domestic violence and marital rape. You’re a real charmer, huh?”

There’s more muffled screaming but you ignore it—the last gasps of a dying man.

“Here’s the thing, Sarge. I know you think that you’re above the law, because you are the law, but you aren’t. Your wife is real tired of your shit, and me? Well, let’s just say that my motto is protect and serve.” You lean in close enough to smell the salty sweat on his brow. “And unlike you, I actually mean it.”

You pull your favorite knife from your thigh holster and slit him from ear to ear. “See you in hell, Sergeant.”

You sit on the edge of the table, swinging your legs and watching him bleed out. It doesn’t take long. The actual disposal is the real work. You set about chopping him into manageable pieces and you find yourself missing the days when you didn’t have to cover your tracks alone, when there was a clean-up team to take care of it for you.

But you’re freelance now. You’re not a Widow anymore. She made sure of that.

Sometimes—like right now, when you’re dripping sweat and every muscle in your body is screaming its exertion as you saw through bone after bone—you hate Natasha Romanoff. You know why she did what she did; you understand that, objectively, it was the right thing to do. But did she ever stop to consider the repercussions of her actions? She got out early and found a new family and became one of the Good Guys. But you? You entered the Red Room with nothing and you left with nothing.

They always said you were born to be a killer. It’s all you’ve ever known. So what exactly did she expect you to do? You may be free of the mind control, but you never had the chance to develop a mind of your own. Killing is all you know. At least now you get to pick your own targets.

Once you’ve got Sergeant Thompson all squared away, you pack him up in the trunk of his cruiser and drive upstate, listening to the 80s station you like. It occurs to you that most people have heard these songs a thousand times—so many times that they know the lyrics instinctively, can sing them without even having to think about it. It’s all new to you, though. You can’t decide whether it makes you sad to think about all you’ve missed or whether you’re lucky that you get to experience for the first time what everyone else is already tired of.

When you get to the farm, you dump Thompson in the holes you’ve already backhoed, then you hop on the Cat and fill them all in. You shoot a text to Mrs. Thompson from your burner—just a thumbs-up emoji—and she replies with a smiley face. It was only so long before he would have killed her; she knows it as well as you do. The only people that will grieve the dearly departed Sergeant Thompson are a bunch of assholes who are one false move from ending up in your web.

You didn’t charge Mrs. Thompson your usual rate—just what she could afford without drawing the attention and ire of the Mister. Sometimes, depending on the circumstances, you even work pro bono. After all, you only kill people for money who you would happily kill for free. You consider it a service, something for the greater good of society. You’ll take money, sure—you need it to live and to continue your work—but not from people who can’t easily spare it.

You have standards. You have a code. That’s the difference between the you that served as a mindless weapon wielded by others and the you that decides for yourself how to use the gifts you’ve been given. No women. No children. No collateral damage. Only Very Bad Men who’ve done Very Bad Things. You don’t see the harm in it, not really, and as you settle into bed you come back to the thought you often have before a fitful night of sleep: who’s the real avenger, Natasha?

*****

Natasha wipes her brow and throws the rag down on the mat, grabbing a bottle of water and chugging half of it before she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Bucky has barely broken a sweat from their morning sparring session, and he doesn’t even try to fake it. He’s in an especially grumpy mood.

“This is a bad idea, Natasha.”

“To some people, maybe,” she says, “but I want to bring her in anyway. I don’t understand how you of all people are against me on this, Bucky.”

“Uh, for starters, she’s a serial killer.”

“That’s a bit of a harsh assessment, considering the circumstances. And do I really need to remind you that the same could be said about the two of us? That a lot of people still say that about us?”

Bucky sighs, because he knows she’s right, but this is different—you are different. “It’s not the same,” he grumbles, but he’s not entirely sure it isn’t, and that’s what’s really bothering him.

“Look,” Nat says, taking a step toward Bucky, “I need to try, ok? I know what she’s going through because I went through it, except she’s completely alone out there with nothing and no one. You and I… we had people behind us, helping us.”

“And what if she says no?” Bucky asks. “Are you just gonna let her go on doing what she’s doing? She’s killed… how many is it now?”

Natasha mutters something under her breath and Bucky looks at her expectantly. “What was that, Tasha?”

“25 people in the last 6 months,” she states, her mouth set in a hard line.

“Exactly,” he says.

“I would like to point out that they were all very bad people. So...”

“Tasha,” he says, and he puts his hand up to silence her. “I can’t help you on this. I’m sorry. I want to, but I can’t.”

Natasha huffs out a laugh. “You know what, Barnes? You’re real high and mighty for a guy who–”

Natasha stops herself when she sees the ice-cold look in Bucky’s eyes. “Go on. For a guy who what?”

“Nothing,” she says. “I’m sorry. I’ll go on my own.”

“Well, good luck to you. Hope you don’t get your throat slit.”

Bucky stomps off and Natasha is left wondering if she’s about to make a huge mistake. She knows you’re volatile, that a part of you must resent her, but she needs to make it right. At the very least, she needs to try.

Natasha grabs her tablet and scrolls through the latest intel on your whereabouts. She’s just missed you in New York, but she thinks she’s got a jump on your next target: some coke dealer down in Miami with a predilection for underage girls. Just a brief glance at this guy’s file is enough to make Natasha’s blood run cold. She knows why you do what you do. If she’s honest, it doesn’t bother her one bit that you’re doing it. It’s the thought of you out there on your own, filled with hate and anger and thirsty for bloody vengeance, that frightens her. Because maybe one day—left to your own devices, lost in the chaos of your troubled mind—getting the Bad Guys won’t be enough for you. Maybe you’ll decide that some of the Good Guys aren’t so good after all. Maybe you’ll even be right.

She contemplates being honest with Steve and telling him where she’s headed but decides against it. Steve isn’t on board with her plan. Natasha doesn’t fault him for it—he doesn’t understand, he couldn’t. Bucky, though... that’s a disappointment, and it surprises her. If anyone knows what it feels like to spend your life as someone else’s weapon, it’s Bucky Barnes.

Natasha waits until nightfall to “borrow” the Quinjet, and she finds Bucky waiting for her when she gets to the hangar.

“I’m coming with you,” he says, “but only as back-up. She’s dangerous, Natasha.”

“Maybe so,” Natasha replies, “but only because she’s afraid.”

*****

You knew that she’d be coming for you sooner or later. Might as well get it over with. Your little stilt cabin on the outskirts of the Everglades isn’t quite set up for company but at least it’s tucked away and difficult to access. You’re surprised she brought him, though—that was a mistake. You and she could have a nice long conversation, but you have nothing to say to the Soldat.

You climb up the tree to your lookout platform and hoist your sniper rifle onto your shoulder, following their slow but steady progress through the knee-deep swamp water, trying to line up a decent shot as they weave in between the bald cypress trees. When you see your chance, you take it, and you put one about an inch from where the Soldat’s metal arm meets the flesh of his shoulder. It ricochets off, as intended, and he jumps forward to shield Natasha. You hear her laugh through your earpiece.

“Relax, Barnes. It was a warning shot. If she wanted to hit you, she would have.”

“She did hit me,” he snaps.

You smile as you descend from the tree to meet them.

“Well well well,” you say. “If it isn’t the Murder Twins. To what do I owe this unwanted visit?”

“You know why I’m here,” Natasha says.

“Yes,” you reply, “but why is he here?”

The man she calls Barnes looks at you with disdain and you give it right back to him. You can tell that shot in the arm really pissed him off and it pleases you to no end.

“He’s just watching my back,” she says. “That’s what happens when you’re on a team.”

“Right, The Avengers. How adorable.”

“Listen,” Natasha begins, but you stop her.

“Let me save you the trouble of whatever little speech you have prepared. I’m not coming with you. I’m not going to Widow rehab and joining your ragtag group of misfits. And I’m not going to stop doing my work just because you come here and bat your eyes and smile pretty at me.”

“Your work?” spits the Soldat. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

“Bucky, don’t-”

“Let him talk, Romanoff,” you say. “He obviously has some… opinions. Now that he’s got the mask off, he can finally speak for himself.” You take a step towards him, your rifle in hand but not pointed at him. “So speak, Soldat.”

He looks flustered and not a little bit angry. You can tell he doesn’t like to be called by that name. “Killing people isn’t work,” he says.

You huff out a laugh. “And what is it that the two of you do, exactly? Run a coffee shop?”

“We are not the same,” he says, and you smile because you know that he doesn’t actually believe that—how could he after everything he’s done?

“I think we are exactly the same, Soldat, with one huge exception: you’re still letting other people tell you what to do, and I’m done with all that.”

“This is pointless,” he says.

“Now that is something you and I actually agree on.” You turn to Natasha. “You should go while you still can. I have work to do.”

But Natasha just won’t let it go. “I should never have left you alone,” she says. “This is my fault. Let me fix it.”

“I don’t need to be fixed,” you snap, and you raise your rifle and point it directly at her head. “Leave, Natasha. And take your little pet with you.”

The Soldat grabs her arm gently. “Let’s go, Tasha. She’s hopeless.”

You feel a pang of something then—some indescribable form of melancholy. You try to keep it off your face but you can tell from the look in his eyes that he sees it. A minute tremble of your lip, the quick double blink—it gives you away, and now you’re really pissed off.

“Leave. Now,” you yell, and it pierces through the sweltering darkness. “I’ll make you sorry if you don’t.”

You watch Natasha and the bionic man make their way out of the swamp. You don’t turn your back on them, not that you think they’ll try to take you by force. That would be unwise and Natasha knows it. Once you’re satisfied that they’re gone, you return to the cabin. The bloodied man in the linen suit lays strapped to the bed where you left him, squirming and shouting around the gag in his mouth.

You have to stop yourself from making this a messy affair, but the anger you feel—at her, at him, at everything—is making it difficult to temper your darker urges. You’re not one for torture, even though this man absolutely deserves it for the horrible things he’s done. You almost give in, but you remind yourself that this is a job—it is work, despite what the Soldat may think—and you have to remain professional.

You grab the man’s file off the desk and pull a chair up next to the bed. “So, Mr. Garcia, where were we?”

CHAPTER TWO >>>