#dude I wanted to write angst or horror but this came out instead…

[livingininsomnia]

“I’m always going to love you,” Silver says honestly. “A day or a year, however long I have.”

His eyes are gentle, soft as he takes your hand and presses it to his cheek, and your heart skips a beat.

“I don’t know how to stop.”

Thump.

Your breath catches in your throat, and warmth lights up your face, toes curling.

Just love me back, he doesn’t say.

[prettyflyshyguy]

Hello, I appreciate you exploring your interests and I'm interested to hear more about the Live Free and Twihard SPN AU

HI. I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS. So does @snackhouse and we've been screaming at each other about this.

She came up with the name "Live Free or Twiharder"

We just really wanted to see the episode go further and double down more mostly.

Anyway gonna dump post some stuff from our conversations under the cut!! We've been bouncing back and forth a lot of ideas, writing snippets, and lamenting on how we wish he had better teeth.

Y'know girl talk things. "I wish this man had really fucked up teeth"

"Yeah"

This is a mix of ideas and comments from the two of us, so full credit goes to Snack for being a local legend and playing handball with me with our shared blorbo. Worse Dean Winchester.

We wanted Sam to have his soul, because the angst potential goes up 200% and we're all here for that. Instead of Sam watching Dean get turned, he gets there too late, and blames himself for what happened.

He's full nihilism mode, genuinely thinks this is the end, Sam tries to explain that there's a cure but Dean's too stubborn and too deep in the downward spiral to really take it in. He has self sacrificial tendencies and just immediately decides to take the fall.

"Dean please just listen to me for once."

"Look at me man, I'm a monster."

Our man is not coping.

So we're both like OK what if it takes longer to heal him. What if he's stuck for a bit longer. Ya gotta hang in a few more days. So then maybe he runs into Lisa, or she reaches out to Sam. She loves this man and after he has the worlds most bizarre and erratic behavior she's going to be really fucking worried, especially since he was aggressive out of seemingly nowhere. She's terrified of him AND for him.

We're cooking so hard the kitchen is on fire.

We are making an environment that is so toxic.

Snack's been cooking hard on how bad can the cure possibly be.

_

Everything was quickly becoming too much. Every sound, smell and sight was bombarding his brain like a 18 wheeler hitting a squirrel.

“My mouth tastes like blood and creepy-dude sweat.” Dean grunted, stepping towards the bathroom.

It was a bullshit excuse and they both knew it, but Dean didn’t think he could make it another minute standing so close to his brother. Stepping into the cramped bathroom he took a second to breathe in a space where he couldn’t hear all of Sam’s veins pulsing with blood, Dean’s gaze drifted towards the mirror.

I wonder if I’ll even recognize myself by the end of this…

He already knew what he was going to find, it’s not like he couldn’t feel them.

Gently peeling back his lips, Dean struggled against the waves of nausea that spilled over him at the sight. Feeling the fangs where there was different from actually seeing them. Now there wasn’t any doubt as what he was now.

Lightly poking the exposed tip of the fang, Dean could feel how sharp it was. Moving his fingertip upward, he slightly pushed the gum above the protrusion, pushing the tip of the fang out like massaging a cat’s foot to see its claws.

The other needle-like teeth seemed to be eager to join their friend, as the rest of the fangs slid from their slits in Dean’s mouth. He wrenched his hand back in horror. He could feel the sharp new additions sliding over his normal teeth. Like the bars of a cage they sealed away any signs of humanity he saw in the mirror. In a matter of seconds he found himself grasping the toilet bowl for purchase has he emptied his stomach.

-

^That's a Snackhouse special right there

-

His shaking hands rattled the keys, clanging in his ears. It made him wince. Pressing his eyes closed he felt for the lock and fumbled for a few agonising seconds in the searing light of the hotel corridor before he heard the familiar clack of the latch sliding open. Stumbling inside, he was relieved to find the interior of their room cold and dark.

“Dean?”

Sam’s familiar voice called out from the table.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

Dean groaned as he lurched towards the kitchen, eyes fixed on the floor as it began to shift and spin. Waves of nausea had flowed through him all night, rolling through his body, shifting from his stomach to his chest. He crossed by the beds, leaning on them for support.

“... You ok?”

He stiffened as the feeling rippled through him.

“I’m good, Sammy.”

He heard his brother start to speak again, but stopped. Thank god. He needed a beer or two. Or three. And a nice dark corner, as far away from the table, and the windows, and the noise from the upstairs room, and the opposite corridor room. And the pipes. And the heartbeats.

He could hear two of them as he leaned on the wall, breathing heavily as he recovered from the growing ill sensation in his abdomen. His back was to the table but that didn’t stop him sensing and feeling and hearing. Every. Pump. One heartbeat was significantly faster than the other. Samuel must’ve gotten back early, he noted. He’d had moments of nervous spikes, but generally was taking things well, as expected. Sam on the other hand…

He grunted as he shuffled infront of the fridge and yanked the door open. The hinges whined and creaked, spiking the building throbbing pain in his head. Staring at the contents in dismay, he assessed the rations.

One beer, three cans of soda, two mason jars of cows blood. Both were almost full.

Scrunching his face in disappointment, he reached for the beer. He pressed himself up against the kitchen bench, gently nudging the fridge door closed with his right foot. It glided shut with another sharp and piercing squeal. He growled at it in response as he twisted the bottle cap open.

“I uh… accidentally… ran into Lisa just now and–”

He paused to take a swig of beer. The cold sensation was refreshing, but the taste was stale, and wrong. He gagged on the mouthful before forcing a swallow.

“Augh, what the hell.”

He brought the bottle up to examine the label. He’d had it before and it’d tasted fine then. Frowning, he turned his focus to the table.

“Hey did you–”

Sam was staring at him. He was fiddling with a bottle of the same beer, empty, in front of him. Samuel was not with him. Dean’s heart sank as the sounds of the water pipes, the street, the tv upstairs all began to fade out. She was sitting opposite to Sam, bottle in hand. She looked terrified, worried, confused. She was staring at him the same way she stared into his eyes when he was in her room, though she seemed to recoil in her seat slightly when he returned her gaze.

“Uhm, the uh, the eye thing is to be expected.”

Sam’s voice was a whisper but Dean heard it as if he was standing a foot away. His mind jumped to the nest. In the gloom, when the light caught their eyes, it reflected, like a deer when the car headlights scanned the countryside.

Or like a wolf.

Oh god.

“I gotta go.”

He barely blurted out the words, tossing the bottle of beer into the sink as he beelined for the bathroom door. Past the table. Past the sound. The unbearable, overpowering sound.

“Dean wait!”

Slamming the door behind him, he cursed when he remembered there was no locking latch. Pressing his weight into it, he felt the door handle turn gently. He pushed back against it, digging the heels of his boots into the grooves of the tiled floor as he slowly slid down to sit at its base, panting. The bathroom was his escape, the walls dampened the sound, he could turn the tap on to create white noise. The shower was the only time he felt safe. The drowning sound of the water droplets blocked everything else in the world out.

He could hear the thumping behind the door. Two channels in parallel, overlapping. The beating, beating, beating, beating, beating.

-

Creaking the door open just enough to peer out, he sighed in relief when he saw the hotel room was empty again. Sam was standing near the door, the lamp on the table turned off. He turned around and began to walk back towards the table, hitting the corner of one of the beds in the process. Dean would have laughed, if it had been any other day.

It suddenly occurred to Dean that it was dark. It was late, the blinds were down, and all the lights had been turned off. He could see everything as clearly as if it was a normal, overcast day. Sam was clearly struggling in comparison, as he slowly walked holding his arms out to avoid crashing into another obstacle. Once he had made it to the chair, he sat down and looked in the direction of the bathroom, though Dean could see he wasn’t exactly sure where to look.

“You can come out now, Dean. She’s gone.”

He could have told Sam that.

“The hell’d you let her in here for in the first place Sam!”

He gingerly took a few steps out of the comfort of the bathroom. The low thrum of Sam’s heartbeat was noticeable, but tolerable.

“She was owed an explanation, Dean. She reached out to me, practically demanded and honestly, she deserves to know what's going on.”

Sam was staring at him now, with that stupid puppy dog face he always used to get people to listen to him. Typical emotional bullshit.

“I almost bit her, Sam. I came so close and I–”

“I would have stopped you.”

“Would you have?”

Sam was silent. Grinding his jaw slightly, he breathed out and looked back towards the door.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Look, it's not your fault.”

He once again reached for the fridge door, pulling it open despite the creaks and squeals in protest.

“Augh, god. Fuck.”

“What’s wrong with your arm?” Dean glanced over at Sam, then down to his bandaged forearm. The white gauze was just visible underneath the edge of his rolled up sleeve as he reached into the fridge. The light bathed it in a sickening glow, the spots of red poking through were nearly impossible to hide.

“Nothing.” he responded curtly, slamming the door closed and shutting off the light.

-

^That's a Shy 4AM special for you. You ever open a fridge door and flashbang yourself in the hotel room? (Sorry I only have 5 jokes and they're all in constant rotation with a different skin like a videogame gun)

What you're all here for though, is TEETH TEETH TEETH TEETH

"Stares lomgingly at blood bag" nice

Anyway we started talking about the x files LMFAO but here's the most and best of what we've cooked together so far; we've had a lot of fun.

[phecdasolar]

HEY HEY HEY TRAFFICBLR I RETURN WITH ANOTHER FIC IDEA SO BUCKLE UP

Okay so, I adore reaction fics, they’re my absolute favorite breed of fanfic, whether it be the characters watching their show/media, or there’s an unseen spectator, living through the events with the cast, I just adore the concept okay! So picture this:

3rd Life, but none of the participants know each other, other than this little feeling in the back of their head like ‘I feel like we’ve met before but idk where or when.’ Now, here’s where the unseen spectator aspect gets added!

While all the 3rd Lifers are going on about the game as we know, the Hermits (and Empires ppl if you want) who didn’t participate, and who DO know and remember their friends, are watching them with ZERO CONTEXT as to what’s going on!! The second all the participants got snatched up to play the death game, so did the Hermits, but they got put in spectator mode!

So they’re all having to stand there, completely helpless and unable to interfere, as their friends go to war and start murdering each other!!! And even when they die, they can see the ghosts of their friends but the ghosts can’t see them!!

Like dude there’s so many events in 3rd Life that would definitely cause a few heart attacks and/or tears, but picture the cactus ring!! Grian and Scar, circling each other, fists bloody, the bloodthirsty ghosts of their deceased friends howling in their ears, screaming for more blood! More pain! More death! Until there’s only one life left-!

Picture the horror on the Hermits’ faces as the friends they once knew and loved have become twisted near beyond recognition in death.

Picture their fear when Grian wins, and shuffles over to the cliff by Pizza’s grave, dripping red, eyes dead, wings limp, ghosts still HOWLING for blood, and they realize what comes next.

Picture the terror and screams that fall on deaf ears as they try to hold him back but their invisible hands find no purchase and he plummets.

Picture the horror when they all wake up and the severity of the situation sinks in. Memories are returned, realizations are had, panic attacks occur, and now those who weren’t participants have 8 heavily traumatized Hermits to deal with, ntm Empires having their 3 traumatized emperors(?) as well!

AND then there’s also the case of Martyn, BigB, and Skizz, who to my knowledge were not on any specific SMP at the time of the series, so for the sake of plot instead of sending them to the void like Martyn in that one fic (love that btw <3) they can spawn in on Hermitcraft or Empires to make things angstier! As a treat uwu (Martyn preferably on Hermitcraft bc haha Dogwarts angst!)

I hope that came out as somewhat understandable, but yeah! If anyone likes this idea and wants to write it then by all means, please go for it!! Just credit me for the idea, @ me or send me the link and we’re all good :D if I had the time and patience to write this myself I would but alas I shall leave it up to the community~ And even if no fics come of this, it’s still a cool idea, no? ;]

[demon-blood-youths]

The Abandoned - Part 1 || What If - AU

Hi everyone, so this is a drabble for @the-silver-peahen-residence. This is a writing I want to experiment on regarding the serious content and mature content. I get inspired seeing Peahen's drabbles and the serious parts. That said, I want to do one for the fun of it.

------ Warning -----

Mature content ( Child Abuse, Neglect, Abandonment, and Cursing )

Some horror.

Supernatural theme.

Angst.

Drama.

Darker themes.

Grammatical errors and typos.

----- Summary ----

This is what if AU. What if Taz hasn't joined the DBT. What if she and her family live in Japan instead of America? After the death of her parents, Taz and her older brother, Tidam are the only ones left. However....Tidam changed leaving Taz in a dangerous situation.

----

Brother didn't come today. She knows that he's upset but she doesn't want him to get in trouble if he messed with the shrine. Did he forget? Maybe he's busy with his friends. This is just the morning. It's fine.

Taz holds her knees together. She could only hear the wind.

Soon, day turns into a rainy night.

She sighs as she wraps her arms around her body. He will come tomorrow. He said it's only one day. She sighs and looks upon the shrine. Good thing, she brought her snacks.

----- Yesterday -----

The group came across a temple shrine. They didn't know a school would have a shrine near their school. The teens decide to go on ghost hunting for fun as they enter the shrine and see.... a statue they saw before.

It wasn't a Buddha statue. More like inspired by.

It was sitting in a cross-legged pose with four arms holding an item. A spear. A dagger that is a vajra. This statue seems to have hair and has a demonic look. Most likely a guardian of this shrine. It has dried ink markings on its body. Rings around its wrist. Marks on its face.

"Yo Tidam. This isn't Buddha." Asked one friend.

"What? Do you think I know what it is, Ben?" Tidam asked. He had wild hair, wearing a tee and jeans.

"I don't know. Don't you used to go to a Buddhist temple?" Benjiro nicknamed Ben scratches his head.

"My father does...." He grumbled.

"Uh...I hope your sis is doing okay by herself in the car." Said another friend named Taro. All three look like delinquents. Right now, Tidam has to bring his little sister since she wants to go to a shrine. Tidam needs somewhere to go because he needs some fresh air.

"She probably got out of there..." Tidam rolls his eyes. "If she did, I'm not surprised that she is exploring the place or looking for us." Tidam looks at the offering and scoffs. He is eating a bun and goes to litter the plastic wrapper.

"What's so good about this place, huh?!" He kicks at ox statue and it falls over. The other two boys are snickering, laughing it off. "This shrine ain't popular! This can be a good hangout!" One of them said.

"Big brother!"

Tidam clicks his tongue and goes to look over his little sister.

"Yeah?"

"Um...uh..."

"Well...what is it?!" Tidam asked annoyed.

"Don't kick that statue over." Taz said.

"Ha!? Says who?!" Tidam exclaimed.

"Well...it's someone else's house," Taz said. "You have to respect things."

"It's just a stupid rock!" Tidam yelled. There, the two siblings get into an argument of respecting things especially the shrine while Tidam's friends are watching this with amusement. Tidam had enough and says that they're leaving. With a sigh, Taz goes to pick up the statue. But before she leaves. The door is shut from the outside.

"Huh!?" Taz then runs over and bangs on the door. "Big brother!"

"If you like it so much, stay there!" Tidam yelled. His friends laughed, thinking it was a joke. After several minutes, Tidam proceeded to leave and this got the friends blinked.

"Uh...hey man! What about your sis?"

"Like I said, she can stay there! Heck! I will come back for her tomorrow." Tidam shrugged.

"Dude...you sure it's a good idea?" Ben asked with concern.

"It's only one night! After that, she will learn her lesson. What can happen?!"

One night?! Taz widened her eyes and banged on the door harder but to no avail.

"Brother! Tidam! Please don't leave me! LET ME OUT!" Taz bangs on the door over and over as she is crying now. But Tidam didn't bother, his friends looked unsure but went ahead to follow and didn't argue since Tidam was the one driving. Taz can heard the footsteps away and away until they are no more.

"Brother..." Taz sniffled.

Locked inside a shrine with snacks and all. She looks towards the statue and walks to it. "I'm sorry for what my brother did. Um...." She wonders what's the name of the god. She looks at the name and reads. "Sukuna...Ryomen?" She never heard of him but still...she feels bad for anyone taking care of this shrine. Taz isn't too superstition but she does believe in spirits.

"Yeah..." She said. She has something in her hand. A chocolate bar. She breaks half of the piece. "Not sure if you like it but please take it. She sets the piece down on an empty plate. And with that, she goes to one of the pillars and leans against it. The rain is still ongoing.

She needs to sleep. She has to sleep. Her big brother will come back.

And soon, she sleeps despite the quiet sobs she let out.

Throughout the night, the rain was still ongoing but there were creaks within the shrine. A shadow looms over the sleeping youth. The shadowy figure has four eyes and four arms, looking down on her. Then it walks over to the offering plate and examines the offering in its hands. It eats chocolate and hums. It looks to the sleeping child and goes over to her.

Time passes and night becomes day.

Taz slowly wakes up. "Hrmmm..." She slowly wakes up and feels something soft. Huh? She looks to see there's a blanket over her. What? She clutches the blanket tightly and sleeps once more.

---- The next day ------

"So Fushiguro, is this really the place?" A voice is heard.

"It is. It is said to be believed that the people here worship him. This is one of the few ones remaining. Can't believe it is still there." Said another voice.

"This place gives me the creeps..." It's a woman's voice.

"Man. Who knew that the Cursed King had a shrine!" Said another. "Yuji, did he say anything about this?"

"Daichi...he didn't, but you know how he is." Yuji Itadori sighed as he and his friends; Megumi, Nobara, and Daichi recivce a mission about a shrine that is discovered.

"You think one of the fingers are in there?" Yuji asked.

Daichi's spirit companion Eito chirps, "No. But... someone is inside." He asked now confused which got everyone tense.

"Inside. You mean a cursed spirit." Megumi narrowed his eyes

Eito chirps now looking worried. "He is not sure, but there's a live person. A kid." Daichi translated, looking worried now.

Right away, Yuji Itadori wasted no time. He sees something a bar latch gate and lifts it open.

"Itadori! Wait!" Megumi Fushiguro tries to stop him, but it is too late. He opens the shrine, and what they see is a girl sleeping below the staute of Ryomen Sukuna with a blanket on.

"What the? There's someone here." Nobara said. "How did she get in here?"

Yuji goes to the sleeping child and takes a look at her face. He looks up to the staute. 'This is what you look like?' He thought.

'Take a guess, brat.' Sukuna uttered in his mind. Yuji sighs but Sukuna hums, 'But I must say I am surprised that the little one stayed here. She must have spent the night. What a lucky one.'

The night?! Yuji widened his eyes.

Yuji goes to pick up the girl in her arms. Taking a good look at her, she has three orange marks on the right side of her cheek. Has messy black hair. She must be year younger than him or two.

"Who is she?" Daichi said. Eito chirps flying around Yuji, looking over the girl.

"We need to find out. We need to bring her to Kiyotaka." Megumi said.

"Seriously.. how did she get in here?" Nobara said. "Did someone lock her in here?!" The four need to update their sensei that they found a person inside Sukuna's shrine.

"I think we need to get out of here. I mean... it's better if we go back." Said Daichi. So the group heads down the stairs away from the shrine, Yuji carrying the girl in his arms. The girl is snoozing peacefully. Yuji had to wonder how she managed to survive a night in there. She must have been scared.

Down below, Ichiji sees the students coming down. "Hm?" Then he sees the girl. He gasped. "What happened? Who?"

"She was inside Sukuna's Shrine." Megumi said. "We don't know how long. But we need to go back to the school." His divine dog, Totality is on guard. There is cursed energy around here but not much.

"And there is no finger it seems. I don't think we need to stay here if there's someone here." Daichi informs Kiyotaka as Eito chirps to confrim.

"I see. Very well. I will inform Gojo then-" Kyotaka goes to text.

"Big....brother?"

Everyone heard a soft voice. "!" Yuji blinked to see the girl waking up as she tugged his chest. Yuji answers, "Huh? Oh, I am-"

She sniffles as she grips him tighter. "P-please don't leave me. I will be good. I promise I won't fight you anywhere."

Everyone went silent. Yuji heard this with wide eyes.

"Huh?"

"I am sorry. Don't leave me there, again!" Tears were streaming down from her eyes. She looks tired. Yuji looks confused and unsure while everyone else doesn't know what to do. The only thing that Yuji can do is hug her. "It's okay. Nobody will leave you there ever again. There, there." Yuji comforts her. "I'm here." He said as the girl sniffled. This calms the girl down before she sleeps once more.

"We should go." Said Yuji seriously.

---

To be continued...

[bluecatwriter]

jonmina, holward (if you have done them already, helward)

Joke's on you, I'm answering all three because no one can stop me! :D JonMina (Jonathan Harker/Mina Harker)— HECK YEAH! 1. What made you ship it? Jonathan and Mina embody a whole bunch of tropes I absolutely love— childhood friends-turned-lovers, young married couple facing The Horrors, a very stable, respectful, and loving relationship that's mostly buffeted by outside forces, etc. I was in love with them even before I met Mina in the story. 2. What are your favorite things about the ship? I'm a really big fan of romantic partners who are genuinely best friends and deeply in love, looking out for each other as they face conflict together. I'll admit a lot of this is a sort of self-insert enjoyment: my spouse and I have been married ten years but are frequently mistaken for newlyweds because we're super annoying affectionate. I love angst and conflict as much as the next person, but sometimes I just want a couple whose love is one of the great stabilizing forces in the story, and I adore Jonathan and Mina for that.   3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? Jonathan avoiding the oath to kill Mina and vowing instead to follow her into vampire hell instead is incredibly romantic (and hot as hell), but I don't see it as an unqualified good decision, and in fact see it as one of the few times he won't respect Mina's choice in a situation. It's pretty much the only decision Jonathan is capable of making at that point, given what he's been through and how he feels— but it still denies Mina's agency in the situation, which makes for an interesting tension. I think that tension makes their relationship even more compelling! Holward (Arthur Holmwood/Jack Seward)— Yup! 1. What made you ship it? I always thought their friendship was sweet (I'm a sucker for dudes comforting other dudes when they're crying, even if it's just a repressed manly squeeze on the shoulder like Jack manages at Lucy's funeral), but it wasn't until I wrote a fic about them (Words and Voice Fail Me) that I came to appreciate their romantic potential. 2. What are your favorite things about the ship? They're a classic sunshiny-golden-retriever paired with a sullen-wet-cat dynamic, which is always fun, but on a more serious note they're just complementary in many ways: Arthur tends not to overthink things while Jack runs in mental circles all the time, Arthur's used to abundance while Jack is in more of a scarcity mindset, and Arthur is very emotionally open while Jack is repressed. But sometimes Arthur really does need to think more carefully, not assume that everything will go his way, and keep his emotions in check a bit more, so Jack is helpful for him, too. They're a good match. I think they're sweet. 3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? I honestly don't know enough fandom discourse to know which opinions are controversial. ;) Helward (Abraham Van Helsing/Jack Seward)— OH YES 1. What made you ship it? A vast amalgam of Tumblr posts, plus reading the text itself. This is one of those ships that feels absolutely canon to me— any version of the story without Jack and Van Helsing at least pining for each other feels like an AU at this point.  2. What are your favorite things about the ship? There are so many different ways to write/headcanon it! There are tons of potential obstacles between them— whether Van Helsing's marriage, the age gap, the former student/teacher dynamic, the internalized homophobia, you name it— and so many different possibilities for how their relationship can play out. It seems that no matter which way it goes, there's always a lot of delicious tension and pining and angst.  3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? I've never seen a version of Helward that I didn't like in some way, so I think my opinions are pretty mainstream… considering that there's, like, seven of us who ship it in the first place. ;)

[cow-smells]

Eli/Hawk x Reader: Changes

Request: Can you do a Hawk x reader where they are dating since a long time and y/n tries to handle with his change from Eli to Hawk? @sophiahardy912

A/N: Thought I’d write all cutesy lovey dovey fluffy smutty things but then this angst came out? sorry if i failed you idk what happened here

Words: 2054

Warning: A few cuss words

----

Eli wasn't... Eli anymore.

Not just in a metaphorical way – he was Hawk now, inside and out. At first it was a refreshing change – you loved Eli back when he was introverted and lacking in confidence, but now Eli loved himself, and that was surely better.

    Confidence is a good thing. Right?

You remembered the day he texted you 'Dig it?' attached to a photo of him – classic brunette gone, dyed down and gelled up to a Blue Mohawk.

The phrase 'dig it' by itself was previously foreign to the boy, so of course the new bold hairstyle was a big shock for you. Not a bad one, just unexpected. Even more unexpected was the new attitude that came with it.

When Eli walked up to you the next day at school, he adopted a strut that came with his new hair and attire. You almost didn't recognize him without one of the comfy sweaters he previously would wear, the ones you would steal borrow when you'd go over to his on date night.

    It had been a while since you had one of those date nights – Eli wasn't fond of spending too much time in public, always feeling like people were staring at his lip – so you'd often spend the night at his house, watching some horror movie late in to the night, laughing together at cheap, unconvincing productions. Or, even better – clinging to him when a movie really was scary, finding an excuse to casually entwine yourself around him. You loved how he would turn red every time, as though you haven't been together for a long time now.

The last date night you two had was... unusual, yet exciting all the same.

Eli had been Hawk for a while now, and things were taking a turn for the worse. At first it was nice – Eli would link your pinkie fingers together under the table at lunch, Hawk would put his arm around you as you two walked down the hallways between classes. Eli cowered when anyone would so much as look at him; Hawk would shut down anyone who tried to start with him.

You didn't mind it, so to speak, when he got in to a fight with his former bullies. You were worried, of course, but Hawk knew how to handle himself. He beat the shit out of them and after years of Kyler and co taunting him, it felt like fair karma at play. You were actually proud. Hawk came home on cloud nine that day and you were all for being his cheerleader; it ended up being a night of great celebrations.

However, these days he was getting exceedingly violent with anyone who would look at him wrong. It was one thing paying back those who wronged him, but the whole karate thing was getting out of hand; it came to a red line for you once you saw his treatment of Demetri, the only one other than you and Miguel who accepted him far before he accepted himself.

You two had gotten in to a serious argument, Hawk stating that Demetri's treatment is his own doing for being such a nerd, you telling him to grow up.

A couple of days went by with you giving him the silent treatment. Hawk thought he'd just slide in by you the next day at lunch, kiss you and everything would be fine – but you weren't having it. If he didn't mind throwing Demetri under the bus so quickly, how long until that was you instead?

Not talking to Eli proved harder to do than you thought. After so long together it was strange, suddenly having this wall between you two. It had only been a couple of days of you riding the bus to school rather than on his motorcycle with him and you already felt an insistent pit in your stomach that refused to go away, no matter how hard you tried to distract yourself with schoolwork and your other friends.

So unsurprisingly, when Hawk texted you asking you to meet him at an unfamiliar address, you agreed.

It was dark out – the only people you saw around the road you were going down were a couple of shady looking dudes, only obviously under the influence.

You checked your phone again to make sure you were going the right way.

    “You made it!”

Eli's voice startled you, making you look up from your phone. Illuminated by the blue florescent lights from the shop he stood outside of, he seemed... relieved.

    “Yeah,” you answered simply, your eagerness to make up disapparating in to an unconfident hesitation. “what are we doing out here?”

    “Look,” Hawk took one of your hands in his. “I don't wanna lose you. And if that means being nicer to Demetri or whoever of those dorks, whatever. I can live with that. But not without you.”

You hated how he knew exactly what to say, even if it wasn't prefect. It was enough.

    “You didn't answer,” you said, allowing a flirtatious tone to creep up. “What are we doing here?”

Eli smiled, a smile that was more Hawk than Eli, and pulled you in to the shop after him, knowing he was well on his way to winning you over.

    “This is my guy, Rico,” Hawk introduced, fist bumping the older man. Between the familiar name, funny looking chair and sketches on the walls, you knew exactly where you were and what was about to happen.

    “Eli?” you tentatively called as Hawk guestued for you to sit in a chair behind the funky-looking one. Rico adjusted said chair and motioned for Hawk to come over. Eli sat on the chair, his back to you.

    “You sure about this?” Rico asked, preparing ink on a side table. “Sure,” Hawk answered confidently.

Naturally, your curiosity got you up on your feet towards Eli's other side – of course you wanted to know what he was getting inked – but Hawk quickly protested.

    “Stay over there!” he scolded playfully. “It's a surprise.”

The machine started buzzing and even though it wasn't you who was getting anything done, adrenaline started rushing, making you a giddy mess, forgetting all about your previous fight. As needle pierced skin, you spent the time waiting making assumptions over what Hawk was getting on him – at first you guessed the Cobra Kai snake, later guessing Sensei Lawrence in a heart – a suggestion that made Eli laugh particularly hard, in that way that he used to laugh when it was just the two of you (this earned a scolding from Rico, who couldn't get the work done if his canvas was jittering about).

It must have been twenty minutes at best before Hawk rose from the chair and turned to you, gesturing to the new piece over his heart – a heart with your name in it.

Was it possible to have your heart sink and jump simultaneously? On the one hand, you were realistic, and there would probably come a day where he'd regret this – a thought that made you sick. On the other hand, it was the most romantic thing you've ever experienced, and it was unlikely for anyone else to ever top that.

What was done was done, so you shoved aside any negativity and allowed yourself to revel in the love you felt, showering Hawk with kisses that quickly turned in to a deep, longing kiss – until Rico politely suggested you take the show elsewhere.

    Apparently “being nicer to Demetri” meant ignoring him altogether, besides some threatening looks. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than the alternative, so you let go of it despite it seeming like Hawk was constantly on the edge.

You were ready for another date night – the first since the tattoo parlor – ready to get away from school and its drama, just to spend some quality time with your boyfriend.

Now that he wasn't shy anymore, he suggested going to see a film in an actual movie theatre, which was exactly what you were doing.

The two of you split up – you needed to go to the bathroom so Hawk stood in line for tickets. By the time you had come out you had lost sight of your boyfriend – the crowd around the ticket stalls had suddenly increased.

    “You looking for someone?” a male voice asked. Turning around, a couple of guys you didn't know were approaching you. “Think you'd have more fun with us.”

Just as they reached you, a hand grabbed your arm. You were relieved to turn and see Eli – but he wasn't even looking at you. His eyes were locked with one of the guys – you could feel the tension in the air.

     “Eli, no,” you whispered firmly. His grip on you tightened, moving you aside – but you weren't going to stand for it. You stepped in front of him, grabbing hold of him as he did to you. “You start something, I walk.” your voice was low, not wanting those guys to hear, but serious enough to make Hawk understand you weren't playing around.

With a grunt, he looked down at you, took your hand and walked away.

You optimistically thought the worst was blown over.

You and Hawk were waiting outside the theatre to be let in, chatting away when Hawk stopped you mid sentence with a kiss.

Another pleasant surprise about Eli's newfound confidence was how willing he was to show affection to you publicly, while before you two could pass off as acquaintances at best.

It was rather random but you accepted the kiss – even when he deepened it, getting closer to you, pulling you closer to him.

His hands started sliding lower.

It wasn't anything you haven't done in the privacy of your bedrooms, but to get that intimate in public, in broad daylight – it was too much for your liking.

    “Eli -” you called, pushing away from him. He didn't allow it.

Pulling your hips to his with one hand on your bum, his other went up to hold your chin, tilting it back to grant him access. He managed to hold you for a moment before you mustered up the power to push him a few steps away from you.

    Hawk was visually surprised – whether because of you or himself, you were unsure.

    “What the fuck was that?” you asked, not bothering to keep your voice down this time.

Despite trying so hard to become this new person, new Eli still had old Eli's tells – and a quick glance he threw aside told you everything you needed to know.

Following his line of sight, the two guys from earlier stood there, watching the scene unfold.

    “So that's what this is about?” you huffed. “some territory marking thing?”

Hawk struggled to gather his words, his bottom lip bobbing wordlessly a couple of times before he spoke. “Look, you didn't want me to take care of it out there, so-”

     “So you do whatever you want with me? Like I'm nothing?”

    “Y/n, you know it's not like that-”

    “So what is it like?”

When Hawk didn't immediately respond, you turned on your heel to the exit. Hawk followed you outside.

    “Come on, Y/n, you know I'd never hurt you!”

    “You just did!” you yelled back. “you... I don't know you anymore, and I say that in the worst way.”

    “What,” Hawk huffed, “you want me to go back to being a pansy? 'Cause that's not going to happen.”

    “You know what's the worst out of all this?” you asked, coming to face Hawk. “at first I thought it was cool, you being all tough. Seeing Kyler become afraid of you. I thought it was great. But now... Now I'm afraid of you.”

Hawk frowned, the realization dawning upon him. “C'mon...” he lifted his shirt to show the heart tattoo dedicated to you. “Doesn't this mean anything to you?”

    “Make it mean something.” you replied with a heavy heart, taking a step back and left, leaving Hawk standing alone in the parking lot.

[bluejaem]

7 THINGS — J.JH

❝ The seven things I like about you. Your hair, your eyes, your old Levi's. When we kiss, I'm hypnotized. You made me laugh, you made me cry, but I guess that's both I'll have to buy. Your hand in mine when we're intertwined, everything's alright. I wanna be with the one I know. And the seventh thing I like the most that you do. You make me love you. ❞ — ♫ 7 things by miley cyrus

↳ PAIRING — jaehyun × gn!reader

↳ GENRE — tooth-rotting fluff lmao, slight angst in the end, post-break-up!au

↳ WORD COUNT — 2.16k ; « 8 min »

↳ WARNING/S — a kiss, mentions of food at one point, like one curse word ig

↳ PLAYLIST — paris in the rain by lauv :: fly away with me by nct 127 :: king of my heart by taylor swift

↳ A/N — perhaps I fell in love with jaehyun while writing this fjsnfjdjf. low-key plagiarised some of my own works while writing this lMaO. Anyways, I just hit my 3-month mark with this blog on this hellsite. So this is a celebratory work ig?

↳ SYNOPSIS — Sure, he broke your heart. But you still weren’t over him. No matter how much you tried, he was the only one in your heart.

And here lie the 7 things you love about jaehyun.

the first thing — your eyes looking in mine

“Ooh, do you remember this one? We took this on our first ever date. You were so cute then — not that you still aren't—” you pulled out the polaroid picture of the two of you from the album and showed it to Jaehyun, who was sitting beside you.

But he turned out to be staring at you.

His eyes were like an empty canvas, gradually being painted with love after every moment that passed. His eyes were always gentle. They looked at you with a softness you had never encountered before. The gaze that was filled with nothing but warmth and fondness. His eyes that spoke a thousand words at once. With a thousand tales to tell.

You were lost.

Lost in his eyes. For who knows how long. But all that mattered was that he was too.

“What?” you giggled when you saw him smile. “nothing, you're just really endearing,” he gushed.

This statement was soon followed by a shy smile taking over your face. He couldn't help but chuckle at this sight. How you'd always shy away whenever he complimented you. Or how you'd try to be the flirty one, but when he said something next, you'd be the flustered one.

He loved the fact that he still had the same effect on you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the second thing — your smile

“hi bubs, and what's your name?” you crouched down to talk to the little toddler holding onto her mother's hand. “I'm Zoey!” the girl replied. 

“Hi, Zoey! I'm y/n!” you flashed her your sweetest smile and put your hand forward for a handshake. She returned your smile with the same amount of affection and shook hands with you.

“And this is uncle Jaehyun,” you take Jaehyun by his hand and make him crouch down beside you.

“Hi, Zoey! That's such a pretty name!” Jaehyun cooed with delight. “Thank you,” the girl giggled, and you did too.

The way his smile grew wider, the dimples making an effortless appearance. He adored you so much, and you had no idea about it.

“Bye!” you waved Zoey and her mom goodbye and turned to look at a smiling Jaehyun.

His eyes, his lips, and his spirit all at once smiled at you. He paints a ray of sunshine all over his face. His smile lights up your world — always. His smile was one of happiness growing, much as a spring flower opens. You could see how it came from deep inside to light his eyes and spread into every part of him. In his sweet smile is all the love you'll ever need.

And there you went, falling for him all over again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the third thing — your hand in mine

“Do you trust me?” he asked as he finished tying the black cloth on your eyes.

“with my life,” you replied, feeling the soft fabric of the clothing on your eyes.

“Well, then,” he smiles, taking your hand in his as he leads you to a surprise that awaits you.

The warmth of his hands penetrating through your skin. The way your hand fit perfectly in his. The feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours was one that couldn't even be described in words.

It felt like holding onto your world at your fingertips and never wanting to let go of it.

“And we're here! Please don't open your eyes until I tell you to do so,” he untied the cloth and ran to the other side.

“Can I open my eyes now?” you snickered because you kind of knew where this was going.

“Yes!” that was the last thing you heard before opening your eyes to a smiling Jaehyun holding a huge card that read, "”ill you be mine again?”

You slowly made your way to him, a candle-lit pathway made just for you. “happy 1st anniversary, love” he gave you a peck on the cheek as he kept the card down.

“you didn't have to do all this?!” you let out a shocked chuckle as you looked at the rest of the decoration. “Now you're making me feel bad that all I did was gift you a bottle of perfume!”

He smiled at your comment and took out something from his pocket. He went behind you, and you felt a cold chain making contact with your skin. He locked the necklace from the back and made you turn to face him.

“Don't feel bad — your presence itself is a gift from heaven above.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the fourth thing — your ears when you're shy

You woke up to the sound of the sizzling of eggs on the pan. You broke into a big yawn as you sluggishly made your way towards the kitchen.

“Good morning to you too,” he chuckled when he looked at you barely able to open your eyes.

You instantly found yourself smiling when you heard his voice. You walked up to him and hugged him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulders as he continued cooking.

“we're eating eggs again?” you groaned out of boredom. “What did you want to eat?” He snickered.

You wore a sly grin as an idea hits you at the right moment, "I want you.” you whispered in his ear. His eyes slowly grew wide, processing whatever the fuck that you just said.

He turned around — only to see you, a laughing mess. And as soon as you saw that smirk on his face, you knew it was time to run.

“aww, your ears are turning red. What happened, loverboy? Were you flustered because of what I said?” You teased him as you both were waiting for the other one to leave their side of the couch and run.

It was one in a million moments when jaehyun was the flustered one, and you were the one who provoked him to be. And so, these moments really had to be the most memorable ones.

“Jae, no–” you sprinted to your room as he followed you. “Let's not–”

Your legs hit the end of the bed, and the next thing you knew was that you had fallen on the bed and jaehyun got on the bed with you, tickling the life out of you.

“Wait, do you smell that?” you said as you sniffed dramatically. Jaehyun stopped tickling you for a moment, and the look on his face when the realization hit him was honestly the funniest thing you had ever seen. You let out the weirdest chuckle when your heard him shouting in horror,

“my eggs!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the fifth thing — your lips when we kiss

"”want a sip?” he offered you his coffee while you were sipping on yours. “How'd you know I wanted to try it?” You let out a soft chuckle while you take his coffee to try.

“I mean, even when you're sipping on yours, your eyes were on my drink. What else should I decipher it as?” he continued walking along with you, smiling when he saw your reaction to consuming his cup of coffee.

You let out a dissatisfied cough after drinking a little bit of his coffee. You hand him his coffee back. “How do you drink that stuff, dude?” you gulped hard, trying your best to get rid of the bitterness by taking long sips of your drink.

“Not like yours is that great,” he said in his cockiest tone in an attempt to provoke you.

You stopped on your tracks, disbelief was written all over your face, “Excuse you, for this is my best buddy!” you scoffed. Well, almost choked, but we won't talk about that right now.

“Then let me try yours—”

“Nope, sorry. And now you've lost the both of us.” Sure, you were fighting like an elementary school kid at that point. But in your defense— yeah, no. You were just being petty, and Jaehyun was just playing along.

You walk ahead of him while he stood there, trying to think of how to get back at you. An idea perks him as he looks at your figure slowly getting smaller the further you walked. He quietly jogged his way towards you, wearing a smug smile on his face.

Oh, dear y/n. You signed up for something you didn't know was about to come.

When he finally caught up to you, he tapped on your shoulder. As a reflex, making you turn around to look at who it was. But instead, you were met with a pair of lips on yours. Not just anybody, but the only guy ever, Jung Jaehyun.

Resistance — was something you were always pretty bad at. And especially when it came to Jaehyun.

No matter how hard you'd try, you always end up giving in. And as a matter of fact, that's what happened then too. He smiled in between the kiss, knowing very well that you had once again given in to him. Your other hand runs through his hair while he pulls you closer to himself, closing any distance between the two of you.

God, you missed kissing him.

He finally broke from the kiss, and started walking, leaving you totally confused. He wore a smile of triumph as he said, "I never liked Mocha anyway," not once did he look back at you before saying that.

For a hot minute, you were pretty confused as to what he meant by that. And that's when you understood that he was talking about the coffee.

You stood there, totally baffled — screaming on top of your lungs while he still kept walking,

“Get back here, Jung gorgeous-ass-man-who-just-tricked-me-like-that Jaehyun!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the sixth thing — your voice when you call out my name

“you coming?” you shouted as you got out of the water, walking your way up to where jaehyun was standing. He seemed to have been writing something on the wetter side of the sand.

“And, done!” He presented you with the small surprise he had prepared for you. You smiled when you saw what it was. He took you by your hand, giving it a kiss before making you stand beside him.

“Jaehyun + y/n forever” he read it out loud while pointing at the sand.

The way your name rolled off his tongue so easily, yet giving it its own unique color. It felt foreign but at the same time, it was so familiar and resounded through your whole self. No matter how many times he calls out your name, something about it still gives you a sense of serenity and you could never get tired of it.

“you plus me forever indeed,” you softly said, burying your head in the crook of his neck as you hugged him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the seventh I like the most that you do — you make me love you

“This is the last one for today, I promise,” Jaehyun said as you both climbed up the stairs of an unknown building. You both entered what looked like an empty terrace with a bench in one of the corners.

He sat on the bench and signaled you to sit beside him. “We're ready!” he shouted.

You were kind of confused by whatever that was going on at that moment. “For what?” you looked at him. Anticipation getting the best of you when you saw the proud look on his face.

“For that,” he put both his hands forward, pointing at the other side of the terrace, basically the wall.

And that's when the led lights lit up, and you could see some words coming the other way like a long led banner.

He read, “There are days when I feel down, and there are days when I feel joy, but the best part of it is going through it all with — you. I know what I'm going to say next is kind of cheesy, but”

This time he turned to you, reaching out for your hand “— will you be my once upon a time?”

It was like the flower of love bloomed once again. There’s something about him that you find so intriguing. Something to his aura that never fails to bring in pleasant surprises. It was like this weird force of attraction that never failed to make you fall for him all over again — if that was even possible. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

But as history has seen it before, every story has an ending. And the one of yours and jaehyun's was of no exception.

© BLUEJAEM, 2021

Tysm for reading! Feedback is very much appreciated <33

[hockeyboysimagines]

All good boys go to Heaven but bad boys bring Heaven to you

Chapter 6

Warnings: language, sex, a fist fight, (tw) stalking, lots of angst, and some fluff.

Sorry it’s taken so long. I’ve been trying to get Say it to me softly out, and now it’s finished so this will be updated more regularly. This is a very appropriate gif for this chapter. Stay tuned💕

“Chucky watch out!” Matt turned just as a puck cracked off the side of his helmet and sent him tumbling to the ice. He hadn’t been paying attention during practice, instead thinking all the ‘not sleeping’ he had done the night before. He could hear Noah and Johnny laughing as they skated over and helped him up. He deserved that one.

“Dude you gotta pay attention. What’s going on in there today space cadet?”

He wanted nothing more than to tell them. He was not only thinking about Hallie, but also about the mysterious flowers that had obviously rattled her. So he went with amended version of the truth.

“We’ll actually.” He turned to Noah and leaned on his stick “Has Hallie ever mentioned like a bad boyfriend or anything?”

Noah looked at the ceiling and chewed on his lip for a moment before he shook his head “I don’t think so, not to me anyway. Why?”

He chose his words carefully, keeping his expression cool “Well I showed up at her place yesterday and made her have dinner with me, and while I was there she said she got flowers and she assumed they were from me. But I didn’t send her any, and she got all fucking weird about it.”

“Was there a card?”

He shook his head “No but she was definitely upset. I offered to stay but she said it was fine.”

Johnny rolled his eyes and gave him a shove “Of course you did.”

“I can ask Carly if you want. They tell eachother everything.”

“No it’s okay. I don’t wanna invade her privacy or anything. Just seemed weird to me.”

They went back to running drills but his mind was still elsewhere. The more he thought about it the more her behavior bothered him. She had seemed upset, anxious, and scared and the whole thing had rubbed him the wrong way. He didn’t want to get involved in her business but it was really bothering him.

*******

“Come on Hal we’re going to be late.” Carly complained as Hallie shoved her feet into her shoes. She locked the door behind her and dig around in her bag as they took the elevator and exited her building towards the parking lot.

As they walked through the parking lot, she was still digging for her keys when she felt Carly’s hand on her arm forcing her to stop.

“Hal?”

Hallie looked up and felt the blood feeeze in her veins. Rose petals littered her car, moving very gently in the breeze. She took a step backwards turning her head this way and that but the parking lot was empty. She turned slowly towards Carly who was looking at her alarmed.

She began to shake, eyes filling with tears. She thought when she came here this would be over, that she could finally be free and not live her life looking over her shoulder. But she was wrong.

“He found me.”

**********

“Hal? It’s me open the door.” Matt said knocking. He hadn’t heard from her all day, and was starting to get worried when Carly told him she was sick, but was them confused when she texted him and told him to come over. He heard her shuffle around on the other side of the door before she eased it open, big eyes peering at him through the crack.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, come in. Hurry up.”

She yanked him inside and clicked the lock as she shut the door. He frowned at her.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine why?” She breezed past him to pick up her buzzing phone on the counter. As she read the message the color in her face drained.

“Something wrong?”

Hallie stuffed her phone in her pocket and shook her head not meeting his eye.

“No why?”

He shrugged “ you just got super weird when your phone went off that’s all.”

“No I didn’t.”

“You did but it’s none of my business.”

“Your right. It’s not.”

“Maybe I should just go.”

“No!” She grabbed his arm holding him in place “I-I mean sorry. I just had a long day is all. Stay please?” She looked uncomfortable asking him, but there was another emotion he couldn’t identify. Whatever it was, it was convincing.

“I got your mail by the way.” He said setting several white envelopes and a large Manila one down on the counter, and walking from the kitchen to the bathroom. He needed a shower, and went to rummage through the collection of clothing he had accumulated. He had hoped by pulling his shirt off and walking back past the kitchen he could entice Hallie to come shower with him but he found her standing with her back to him, looking at an article of mail in her hand. He could see her trembling from where he stood.

She had opened the large envelope first, noticing it had no return address, but felt bulky and heavy. She felt goosebumps bloom across her skin as a stack of photos slid out and she looked through them. There were dozens, her walking to work, out with friends, her and Matthew. Each photo got progressively closer and some had foul crude writing on them. Mattys face was crossed out on several of them and a few were ripped in half.

“Hallie?”

Matt was standing in the middle of the room, shirtless looking at her, concerned. She thought for a minute about hiding them but she knew that there would be no point. She held the photos out to him and he took them, frowning. His eyebrows furrowed as he shuffled through them.

“What-what is this?” He looked mad now, eyes burning. His knuckles were white as he gripped them ”Who took these?”

She took a deep breath “ His name is Ryan. I dated him for a few months before I moved here, to get away from him. He started stalking me, saying we were meant to be and he couldn’t live without me. I thought I got away from him but he found me. He left roses on my car this morning. And he texted me just now.”

“How long has this been going on?”

She looked down “A few days. That’s where the flowers came from the other day. And I got a weird phone call at my office last week. -“

“A few days? And your just telling me this now?”

“I’m sorry. I thought he would just go away. I was wrong.”

Yeah I’d say you were. We need to go to the police.”

“I already have. They can’t do anything about it. Besides he’s just trying to scare me.”

“ And what happens when that’s not enough for him anymore? What happens then? If you think this creep is going to be content to watch you forever, your wrong. He’s going to hurt you.”

“I know I’m-I’m sorry.”

“That’s it. I’m moving in here.”

“What?! No!”

“It’s not up for discussion. Till this guy goes away I’m staying here.”

She wanted to be annoyed, but in all honesty she was relieved. She felt safe with him in the apartment, and it felt good to get this off her chest.

“And what are we going to tell our friends?”

“Would it be so bad if they just knew about us? I mean really Hal. Your starting to make me feel like I’m just a good lay and that’s the only reason you keep me around.”

She looked hurt for a minute and her expression softened “Matty. I’m sorry.” She put a hand on his arm and rugged him closer “I never meant to make you feel that way. I’m just scared okay. Of this, of Ryan of everything. We will talk about this, but give me some time.”

He pursed his lips for a minute before he nodded.

“Okay. That’s fair.”

She squeezed his arm before wrapping her own around him, her head resting on his chest near his heart. He was so big and safe, any worry she had about Ryan out the window, as she stood listen to his heart beating through his shirt.

She had lived by herself for so long it was weird having a roommate. Especially one who walked around mostly shirtless and slept in her bed. She learned a lot about him in the following days. She learned how incredibly sweet he was, and how much he loved his mom and his sister. She learned he slept on the left side of the bed, that he never had a dog growing up, and that he was not the pest that everyone saw on the ice. She learned that he loved to dance, and they had spent much time slow dancing in her kitchen, and that he could talk about everything and anything late at night. His voice, which had annoyed the hell out of her just a few months ago, now soothed her every time she heard it. She liked seeing him smile at her across the table, or next to her while they brushed teeth, and his presence had become a comfort that she never knew she needed. She had fallen hard for Matthew Tkachuk, just like she knew she would.

One particular rainy Sunday morning she had woken up to his big rough hands barely brushing the bare skin of her back. She rolled over eyes still closed, lips immediately finding his in the dim light of her bedroom. He kissed her deeply, lips moving slowly, tongue pushing inside her mouth. There was already minimal clothing on, so it didn’t take long before he was pushing inside her. She let out a breath, eyes closing slowly. Each time was more enthralling than the last time. He moved slowly, lazily hot breath on her neck. She reached up, running her fingers through his hair. She could her the dull pounding of rain hitting her window, the thick grey clouds making the room dim. But she could see those eyes burning into her own, as he moved above her, curls falling into his eyes. He leaned down and kissed her heavily, as his pushes became faster until he let out a ragged breath as she tensed around him, her own high coming with his.

“Can we stay in bed all day and do that again?”

Before she could answer she heard her front door open and then close. Panic rose in her throat as Matt jumped off the bed, yanking a pair of gym shorts on and banged the bedroom door open. He couldn’t believe this creep was bold enough to come into her apartment in broad daylight, but he was going to kill him before he got the chance to ever do it again.

“Matty wait!” She whispered pulling a T-shirt over her head as she hurried out behind him. To her horror it was not Ryan in her kitchen, but Noah and Carly standing there with wide eyes and open mouths.

“What the hell?” Noah said, eyebrows raised so far up his forehead they were in danger of disappearing into his hairline.

Hallies face had bypassed Red and turned Maroon as she shrank down behind him under Carly’s glare.

“Are you two serious right now?” She asked hands on her hips, looking between them.

“How long has this been going on?” Noah asked. He too was frowning, arms crossed. He knew something was up, and they had become even more suspicious when Hallie started being magically busy the past few weeks, coupled with Matthew being notably absent and coming and going at all hours. They had never though thought in a million years they would find them shacked up together in Hallies apartment.

Matthew took a deep breath and turned to look at her before looking back at their friends “Since that weekend at the lake.”

Carly sucked in a loud breath, eyes huge. She sputtered for a few moments, words completely escaping her.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked after a few moments. She looked hurt. Hallie had wanted to tell her so bad, but she didn’t want to say it out loud. She was so scared that she had even let him in, but now to tell everyone else? That was terrifying.

“Let’s talk about this another time yeah?” Noah said, giving Carly’s arm a gentle squeeze.

“No.” Matt said “Let’s talk about it now. We didn’t tell you guys because we didn’t really know what to say. I honestly still don’t know what this is.”

“But there’s something else too.” Hallie reached behind her to pick up the envelope full of photos and handed them to Carly. She looked alarmed as she pulled them out, face turning white.

“Hallie.” She whispered.

“What the fuck?” Noah said, grabbing a few photos from Carly’s hand, and looking at both of them clearly confused.

“Sit down.” Matt said, patting the counter and walking to the fridge to pull out the liquor “We’ll tell you everything.”

And they did. They started with the lake house and went from there. Hallie and Carly walked Noah and Matt through the details on what had happened with Ryan and how they had come to Calgary to get away from him. Noah was so angry about the stalking, and the fact that she had kept it from them, he gave her a very stern talking to.

“This creep could have hurt you. Both of you.” He said glaring at Carly as well “We can’t keep you safe if we don’t know what we’re trying to keep you safe from.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Carly said giving his hand a squeeze.

“Now that we’re all in the loop I think we can agree that you two can’t go places alone for right now.” Matt said rubbing his chin “It’s just the way it is. Until this guy goes away or does something to get arrested for it has to be this way. When we have away games you two have some kind of sleepover or something. Have Jay come too.”

Carly giggled “I don’t really see Jay taking down an intruder, but safety in numbers right.” They laughed and the mood seemed to change. They decided to order takeout, and Hallie realized how much better she felt not keeping secrets. To finally have her and Matt out there in the open felt good, and natural.

After Noah and Carly left, it was just them in her apartment. He was smiling at her, a smile she hadn’t seen before. He walked very slowly towards her, eyes burning into her own.

“Thank you.” He said coming to a stop in front of her, hands resting on her shoulders.

“For?”

“For telling our friends. I know it wasn’t easy, and I know you didn’t want to, and I know your not my girlfriend or anything but thank you.”

“You haven’t actually asked me to be your girlfriend.”

He shrugged “I’m not really in the market for a relationship right now so.”

She gaped at him till he burst out laughing and swept her up, carrying her down the hallway towards her bedroom.

“Come on. Let’s go do boyfriend girlfriend stuff.”

********

As news of their new relationship spread, Matthews performance on the ice skyrocketed. He was having a great season, exploding on the ice and making headlines every game. He was still a pest, and that would probably never change, but he found himself playing with a confidence he didn’t know he had.

Plus it was an added bonus to look up and see Hallie sitting in the stands, looking so damn good with his name across her back. She was a steady constant in his life, and he found that having a real relationship was better than any hookup.

After one particularly physical game, Hallie waited nervously in the hallways outside the dressing room. Noah exited followed by Johnny and came over dropping a kiss on Carly’s cheek and turning to Hallie with a smile. Johnny gave her a gentle bump on the shoulder and grinned when he saw her expression.

“He’ll be out in a second.”

She peeked our from behind Him, as the door banged open and Matt came through the doors of the locker room, wet curls falling around his face with a casual elegance, cheeks pink, tie loosened around his neck. His eyes searched around the room till they landed on her and he smiled.

That damn smile.

He accepted a few pats on the back from his teammates as he made his way over to her, and stopped a few feet in front of her. She looked him over not noticing any injuries or blood and he held his arms out wide.

“ I’m fine Hallie. “

She breathed an audible sigh of relief and fell gratefully into his arms. He was so big and warm and she closed her eyes and breathed him in.

Watching Him fight had been a confusing expression to say the least. She had seen videos of it on YouTube but watching it happen live was completely different than through the tv screen. It was horrible because he was her boyfriend and she didn’t want him to get hurt, but it was enthralling to watch him throw his 6”2 frame around with such confidence on the ice. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to kiss him or smack him and the whole experience had left her emotionally drained.

They made idle chatter as they made their way out of the SaddleDome and into the parking garage, making plans to get together with some other guys from the team the following evening.

Once they were buckled in the car he turned to find her already staring at him.

“What?”

Her eyes were squinted and her head was turned to the side and like a flash of lightning she had hopped from the passenger seat to the back. He wasted no time following her, as they hurriedly pulled at whatever clothing was necessary to come off. She tugged the zipper of his suit pants down, and hiked up her skirt. She was dressed for work, having come to the game right from there with no time to change. She motioned for him to sit but he shook his head and leaned her back against the backseat, coming in between her legs. She settled in, opening her legs. His eyes bugged as he watched her pull the skirt up to reveal she wasn’t wearing stocking, but black thigh highs, and no underwear.

“Hal.” He breathed as she pulled his suit pants down enough and guided him towards her entrance. Her eyes closed and she arched back against the seat at the sensation of him pushing inside of her. He pushed again, adrenaline pumping through him as he quickened his pace, pushing deeper with each thrust.

“Matty.” She breathed, pulling his face to hers so she could kiss him. She fisted his dress shirt in her hands, as she pushed her tongue inside his mouth kissing him sloppily. Her legs began to ache as his pushed became erratic, and she came, him following shortly after. They say breathing heavily for a few minutes before he pulled out of her and sat next to her, situating his suit pants and turning to her. She smiled tiredly at him, eyes closing as he ran his fingers through her hair.

“Take me home.”

********

Hallie felt a twinge of annoyance at the way the girl was so obviously flirting with him and he was doing nothing to stop her. After a long night and a lot of sex, Hallie was overly tired and hadn’t really been in the mood to go out at all. She only had because she promised Carly she would. Matthew had gone to the bar to get a drink and was immediately approached By some bimbo in a short skirt, and that was all it took to bring Hallies mood down even more than it already was.

“Relax Hal.” Carly warned. She could feel an angry heat creep up her neck as she watched him smile at the girl, way to friendly for a guy who had a ‘girlfriend.” She angrily slugged the rest of her drink before setting it down loudly on the table.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” She said stand up and storming towards the ladies room sign, glaring at the back of the girls head who was flirting with her boyfriend.

She burst through the door, startling several girls who were fixing their makeup and blinked away angry tears while she went pee. Who did he think he was? They finally tell their friends the truth and here he was laughing and smiling with some random girl in the bar.

When she exited the bathroom she felt a hand on her arm. She turned ready to chew Matt out, when she realized the hand wasn’t his. She froze. It felt like someone was pouring maple syrup over head, and it was trickling down her body suffocating her as she came face to face with Ryan.

“Hi Hallie. I’ve missed you.”

“Get away from me Ryan.”

“I’m sorry about the photos, it was the only way I knew to get a hold of you after you blocked my phone number.”

“And what about the flowers on my car? How did you find my apartment?”

“I just know that you really love pink roses.”

“How did you find my house?”

He took a step forward and backed her further into the corner. Carly had noticed the exchange from across the bar and stood suddenly knocking her stool back and startling Noah. Matt turned from the conversation he was having to look at her as she jumped over the stool.

“That’s Ryan.”

As Hallie tried to maneuver around Ryan he grabbed her arm.

“Hallie please talk to me.” As she tried to pull away there was a commotion and Ryan’s face went white, a look of terror flashing across it. She turned just in time for a fist to come flying over her shoulder and connect solidly with Ryan’s face.

“Matty no!” She tried to grab on to the back of his T-shirt as he surged forward, punching Ryan again. He was so much bigger than her and she struggled nearly falling forward, until Noah appeared and grabbed Matt around the middle hauling him backwards. Johnny was standing looking at the scene with his mouth open and Carly was attempting to help Noah pull Matt towards towards the entrance. Hallie bit back tears and gave Ryan once last glance before she followed her friends out of the bar.

She burst through the door of her apartment not checking to see if he was behind her or not. She was so angry at him for what he had done she didn’t even want to look at him.

“Look I’m sorry okay?” He said leaning against the doorframe. The cut above his eyebrow had stopped bleeding and he was flexing his fingers, bruises beginning to bloom across his knuckles. “I just. When I saw that guy grab you like that, I don’t know. I just reacted” He looked at his hand and sighed “ it’s cuz I fucking love you okay?”

“You have to stop punching first and asking questions later. You almost punched me in the face!”

“I would never punch you in face Hal-“

“Your fist was two inches from hitting me.”

He looked at his feet embarrassed before she continued.

“And don’t think I didn’t see you flirting with that girl either!”

“What? What girl?”

“The bimbo at the bar who’s chest you couldn’t stop staring at! Thanks for making a complete idiot out of me in front of everyone!”

“This is never gonna change is it? Your never going to trust me.”

“Give me one good reason why I should?! You fill my head with air about wanting to have relationship with me then you flirt with some girl at the bar!”

They were standing ten feet apart, red faced and screaming at each other.

“I don’t need this.” He snapped grabbing his he let and leaving the room. She followed him.

“No you don’t need this and you clearly don’t need me either. Get out!”

“I am. And I won’t be coming back either.” He slammed the door behind him as she stood there, fists balled up at her sides. She listened to him walk angrily down the hallway until his footsteps could no longer be heard.

[synmorite]

Time and Patience (War and Peace- Part 2)

Summary: Dean hasn’t spoken to you in years. Are the demons lying when they tell him that you’re dead? Or is Cass when he says that you’re alive? Word Count: 3149 Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Warnings: Angst, language, show level violence, some torture, major character death, a little bit of fluff maybe? A/N: So here it is, part 2 to War and Peace. Gotta be honest, I’m not entirely sure where this whole thing came from. I wrote War and Peace in the middle of the night and then a rough summary of Time and Patience shortly after. It got stuck in my head and demanded I write it out.

Dean’s POV

September 2007

Dean walked up the steps to your house. His heart was pounding, even though he’d done this many times before. Maybe it was because, for the first time, he wasn’t sure he was welcome. He’d tried to call you after he made the deal to save Sam’s life, but your phone wasn’t in service anymore. He hadn’t heard from you in well over a year by that point. Hell, the last time you called him was when Pastor Jim died. Even longer since he called you. He knew he should’ve picked up when you called about Pastor Jim. The man took you in after your mom died. You were hurting as much as he was. But with everything going on with his dad and Sam and that damn yellow-eyed bastard, he didn’t think he could be your rock. Even though you had been his so many times before. He was an ass and he knew it. But he was an ass who loved you. He just hoped that you could forgive him before he ran out of time so his last months could be spent with you instead of alone. Dean reached your door and knocked on it. He could hear heavy footsteps from inside approaching the door. Too heavy to be yours. The door opened to show a large man in his mid to late 30’s. “Yes?” The man asked Dean, looking him up and down. “Uh… Is Y/N here? Y/N Y/L/N?” Dean asked, glancing into the house behind the man. The house was all wrong. The walls were different colors and the furniture was too masculine to be to your taste. “Who?” “Y/N. She lives here.” Dean said, looking at the man again. The man snorted. “Not anymore, dude. I’ve lived here the last year and a half. She must not have told you she moved.” The man then shut the door in Dean’s confused face. Dean walked back to the impala slowly and after climbing into the driver’s seat, played with the keys a bit. You didn’t even tell him you moved. You changed your number and left. “Well, fine then. You don’t want to see me anymore, I won’t try and find you.” Dean grumbled angrily as he shoved the key in the ignition and drove off.

May 2008

Dean’s time was up. There were no more deals to make. No more ways to try and weasel out of it. Lilith held his deal and they couldn’t get to her. It was over. And then Lilith took over Ruby’s vessel and let the hellhounds in. He thought of you as the first hound dragged him off the table. He just wanted to kiss you one last time before he went into the Pit. Dean felt some of the worst pain in his life as the hounds tore through him and left him in shreds. The worst pain until that point. Because Hell was worse. So much worse.

July 2008

Twenty-seven years. That’s how long Dean has been in Hell. Twenty-seven long, painful years. They did everything to tear him down physically and emotionally. Over and over and over again. Even through the screams echoing all around him, Dean could hear the soft footsteps enter his cell. Oh, no. Not her. Not again. Dean was nailed into the wall and unable to escape this particular torment. “Dean? Why did you leave me, Dean? You were supposed to come back.” Dean stayed quiet, gaze on the floor. “The demons came and got me, Dean. All John had to do was give them the Colt and they would have let me go. It’s your father’s fault that I’m dead, Dean. It’s your fault!” He heard your footsteps draw closer before your fingers reached out and stroked down his cheek. He choked on a sob and looked up at you, knowing the horror he’d see. Your normally beautiful Y/H/C hair was greasy and knotted. Your skin was ashen and sallow. But the worst part was your neck. A deep gash was cut into your throat with dried flaked blood on the skin. Your t-shirt was coated in blood. “You’re not dead, Y/N. You just left.” Dean whispered, looking into your Y/E/C eyes. Your eyes were the realest thing about you. Still so bright and full of light. While everything else about you felt cold and dead, your eyes still felt warm and alive. “I am dead, Dean. I’ve been dead. For over 2 years now and you didn’t even notice. I sacrificed myself to save your father and you didn’t even realize I was gone! My body was left to rot in an abandoned warehouse! I didn’t even get a hunter’s funeral!” Tears welled in your beautiful eyes as you met Dean’s. The knot of pain in his chest finally broke and he sobbed. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He couldn’t see the little smirk on the demon’s face through his tears. He was almost completely broken. Just needed another nudge and then he would take Alastair’s deal.

September 2008

Dean was free. He didn’t know how yet. But he was sure that Sam must have done something. He was riding with Bobby in one of his cars to go track Sam down in Pontiac, IL. They’ve both been quiet for the last couple of hours. Dean was wrapped up in his memories of Hell. When Bobby asked him about it, Dean didn’t have the heart to tell him that he remembered everything. One question kept burning through Dean’s mind until he couldn’t take it anymore. “Hey Bobby?” Bobby grunted to show he was listening. “Have you heard from Y/N?” Bobby glanced at him. “Nah, not for a coupla o’years, at least.” A couple of years. He felt that pang inside. He could understand her avoiding him, but Bobby too? “Has anyone heard from her?” Bobby glanced at him again with his eyebrows furrowed. “Dunno. Nobody’s mentioned her to me. Why?” Dean shrugged and looked out the window. “Just wonderin’.” Demons lie, right?

November 2009

The world was going to shit and they were losing the war against Lucifer. Ellen and Jo were dead, and Dean knew it was his fault. He broke the first seal. He sat on Bobby’s couch, watching the fire burn and nursing a bottle of whiskey. He’d long given up on using a glass. Sam was passed out on the floor and Bobby had gone to bed hours ago. Dean’s guilt wouldn’t let him rest. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Jo, pale and bleeding, lying on the floor of that store. He saw the pain in Ellen’s eyes as she realized her daughter was not getting out of that place alive. As the hours passed and the fire died, Dean’s thoughts turned to you as they always did when the darkness pressed in on him. He’d been afraid of looking. Afraid of finding an answer he wasn’t ready for. That there was even more blood on his hands and that it was your blood. The world was coming to an end, and Dean didn’t want to be afraid anymore. He set the nearly empty bottle down and quietly went outside. “Cass? I need a favor.” Dean whispered into the quiet night. A flutter of wings and the angel appeared beside him. “Dean? You should be sleeping. It’s been a long day.” “I can’t. Not yet. I need your help.” Castiel saw the drawn look on Dean’s face and nodded. “If I can help, Dean, I will.” “I need you to find someone. Y/N Y/L/N. I haven’t seen her in a few years.” Dean hesitated. “The demons told me she was dead while I was in Hell.” His desperate green eyes met Cass’s blue ones. “I need to know what happened to her, Cass.” Cass nodded slowly. “I’ll find her for you, Dean.”

Castiel’s POV

Cass should have seen that request coming. He knew that you haunted Dean’s thoughts ever since the demons told him what had happened to you. Cass also knew that the truth may break Dean in ways they can’t foresee. He needed Dean to remain strong. Unbroken. But Cass wasn’t sure he could lie to him either. He needed to speak to the only person who could help with this decision. He needed to speak to you. Castiel flew to Heaven and stood outside your door.

Y/N Y/L/N 1980-2006

He gripped the knob and pushed the door open to be met by bright sunlight. He heard giggles and laughs as a young girl ran past followed soon after by a green-eyed boy. “Y/N! We’re s’pose to stay in the house! Pastor Jim said!” “But you’re with me, Dean! You’ll protect me, won’t you?” The little girl shouted back to him before her eyes fell on Castiel. She froze, but Dean kept running and shouting around her, like she was still playing with him. In a blink of an eye, a young woman stood where the girl had been. “Castiel? You’re back.” You said. “Hello, Y/N.” You leaped forward and embraced the angel in a hug. Cass had visited you several times before now. First, it was curiosity on why Dean still felt so attached to you. You two had not been marked by a cupid so why did Dean still dwell on your memory? It didn’t take Cass long to realize that you were something rare and beautiful. Especially to Dean. He slowly wrapped his arms around you. Pulling away, you saw his sad eyes. “What is it, Cass?” You asked. Cass blinked at the nickname. It never failed to amaze him how similar you and Dean were sometimes. “It’s Dean. He asked me to find out what happened to you.” You stepped back. “You didn’t tell him, did you? I asked you not to!” “I haven’t told him, Y/N. But I am not sure I can lie to him.” You sighed heavily. “I need you to, Cass. If he knows what happened, he will punish himself for it and it wasn’t his fault.” Cass’s eyes searched your own. You smiled softly at him. “Tell him I met someone. That I left behind my old life and the painful reminders of it. Tell him I got married and had a kid. A little girl just as wild as I was. That I am safe, and I am happy. He will be at peace with that.” Cass nodded slowly. You reached forward and grasped his hand. “Trust me, Cass. This is far better for him than the truth.” Cass squeezed your hand. “Okay, Y/N.” With a smile, you turned and were the little girl again, playing with Dean in the yard of Pastor Jim’s house. Cass quietly left you to your heaven.

Dean’s POV

August 2014

It’d been years. Why was Dean thinking of you now? Of all the times he thought of you before, why was he thinking about you now? When he was a demon? He wasn’t supposed to care right? But is that what this was? Or was there something else driving him? Dean stared up at the ceiling as the blonde waitress slept next to him. She was a good fuck, he’d give her that. But he wanted her gone now. Frowning, he turned to look at her. She wasn’t as pretty as you. Maybe that’s what was bothering him? That you had chosen someone other than him. He felt the demonic growl in his chest at the thought. You should have been his. You were always supposed to be his. What right did some normal, human man have to take you from Dean. He understood now. Jealousy. He was jealous that you were someone else’s and not his. That would change. He’d find you. He’d make you his again.

September 2014

He’d searched for you. It was difficult, keeping Crowley off his tail. The man had attached himself to Dean like a clingy girlfriend. But Dean managed. He’d distract Crowley with booze and pretend to take some other whore to his bed. Then he’d leave knowing he had the rest of the night before Crowley looked for him. But even after a month of looking, he still couldn’t find you. He’d tortured people. Killed people. All to find some morsel of information that would lead him to you so he could reclaim you. But there was nothing. Cass had sworn to him that you were alive. That you got married and had a kid. Was he lying? Dean was sitting at the bar next to Crowley, downing another glass of whiskey. Crowley was yammering on about something, Dean didn’t know what. He couldn’t care less. “Do you know what happened to Y/N Y/L/N, Crowley?” Dean asked, tipping his glass back and emptying it. Crowley immediately shut his mouth. “Why are you asking me about her, Dean?” “I want to know the truth.” “Do you now?” Crowley kept his hands on his own scotch glass, spinning it a little in his hands. Dean recognized the nervous tic. “Why now, Squirrel? Why do you want to know about her now?” “That is not your business to know, Crowley.” “I am your king.” Crowley hissed at him. Dean turned and levelled him with a cool gaze. “Are you sure you want to go there? I am not your subject.” Crowley watched him carefully before deciding that he had nothing to gain. “I wasn’t there so I don’t know for sure, but I heard through the demonic grapevine. Lucifer’s bastard children, Meg and Tom, took her from her home as collateral when trying to get the Colt. When Daddy Winchester showed up with a fake, she killed herself. They bragged about how scared she must have been of them.” Dean shook his head. “If that’s the truth, that she’s dead, she didn’t do it out of fear of them. She did it to deny them the pleasure. She was tough.” Crowley continued watching Dean, knowing this was dangerous ground. “Do you believe them? Demons lie.” Dean said as he waved at the bartender for another drink. “They also tell the truth when they know it will hurt.” Dean stayed quiet this time. Did Cass lie? Were you dead? Or did Meg lie?

November 2014

He was cured. He was human again. And he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He didn’t ask Cass if he lied. He wasn’t sure he could handle it with the Mark. So he let it lie.

May 2016

Amara brought his mother back to him. She brought his dead mother back. She said that she’d give Dean what he needed most. Surely, if she brought his mother back and not you, that must mean you were alive? He tried not to think about it. He trusted Cass. Cass wouldn’t have lied to him. Surely, Amara would have brought you back if you were dead.

May 2020

It was over. They defeated Chuck. God. Now would be the time to retire. To settle down and have a family. But Dean couldn’t. Amara told him. Chuck told him. You were gone. Chuck told Dean that he would never see you again. That he wiped your soul from existence. Dean was glad that Chuck was powerless. He couldn’t play with anyone else’s lives anymore. He couldn’t hurt anyone else like you. Because Dean knew now. He knew you were long gone and that it was his fault. What else could he do now except keep going? Because as sure as he knew that he loved you, he knew you had loved him and would want him to carry on.

November 2020

Dean breathed in a deep breath of the sweet air as he blinked into the sun and gazed over the beautiful landscape. “Well, at least I made it to Heaven.” “Yep.” Dean turned towards the voice and saw Bobby sitting in a chair in front of what looked like Harvelle’s Roadhouse. Puzzled, Dean asked, “What memory is this?” Bobby laughed. “It ain’t, ya idjit.” “Yeah, it is, ‘cause last I heard, you… you were in Heaven’s lock-up.” Dean walked forward trying to figure out what was going on. “Was. Now I’m not.” Bobby smiled. “That kid of yours, before he went… wherever... made some changes here. Busted my ass out. And then he… well he set some things right. Tore down all the walls up here. Heaven ain’t just reliving your golden oldies anymore. It’s what it always should have been. Everyone happy. Everyone together. Rufus lives about 5 miles that way.” Dean sat down as Bobby gestured vaguely forward. “With Aretha. Thought she’d have better taste. And your mom and dad… They got a place over yonder. It ain’t just Heaven, Dean. It’s the Heaven you deserve. And we’ve been waiting for you.” At that, Dean heard a laugh from inside the bar. He turned and stared towards the door, missing Bobby’s smile. “Why don’t you head on in and say hello?” Bobby said. Dean nodded and stood back up and walked to the door. He placed his hand on the familiar handle of the familiar door and pulled it open. It took only a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light, but at the sound of another laugh, he looked towards the bar top. He realized that the woman behind the bar was Ellen. But his gaze immediately refocused on the woman who was sitting in front of Ellen. He recognized that beautiful Y/H/C hair. As you spoke to Ellen, his chest ached. He’d forgotten how beautiful your voice was. He was frozen in place, staring at your back when Ellen noticed him. Her face broke out in a wide smile and she stopped talking. “Ellen?” You asked her. “What is it?” Dean took a deep breath, but still only managed just above a whisper as he said, “Sweetheart?” You froze as his voice reached your ears. Turning slowly, your Y/E/C eyes met his shiny green ones. “Dean?” Hearing you say his name, broke the spell over him and he surged forward to scoop you into his arms. He buried his nose into your hair and breathed in your unique scent. “I missed you so much, Y/N.” You laughed lightly through your own tears as you held onto Dean. You pulled back just a little to look at him, seeing the years on his face, but he was still the most beautiful man that you had ever seen. You leaned up, meeting his lips with your own in a needy kiss that showed all the years you’d been separated. “I knew we’d see each other again, Dean. Just needed a little time and patience.”

[crazy4myself]

No Harm List Pt.4

Word Count: 7.2k

Summary: You live in a city where crime runs rampant. One day, you save a young boy's life, not knowing that he is the most powerful crime lord's heir. And you have just been put on the no harm list.

Trigger warnings: DESCRIPTION OF PANIC ATTACK!! I really took my time with writing this, trying my hardest to convey these feelings without being triggering. I also tried to make it as comforting as possible, but if you are feeling a little anxious maybe save this fic for a better day. Mental health first!  

Additional warnings: mentions of violence, explicit language, mentions of death,

Genre: Romance, angst, violence, gang/mafia AU, 

Rating: 18+  (bc of mentions of violence there’s no sexual content)

<- Pt.3

"Hobi, I don't wanna be mad. I just wanna know the truth,” you pleaded, voice wavering. And that was the truth, you felt like you could care less if he was in a gang. It was Alcorn, you had to be in a gang to survive if you weren't rich.

Upon seeing your eyes water and your lip tremble, Hoseok instantly wished you would scream at him. He didn't want to hurt you. He didn't mean for it to go this far. For you two to get so close after his sister's death, or for him to lie to you for so long. He told himself he kept you out of it for your safety, but really it was just too easy for him to live two lives, for you to look at him like he wasn't a murderer and for him to pretend for a few hours that he wasn't. 

He sighed, sitting on the couch, and you plopped down next to him and waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts. 

"I guess it's best to start at the very beginning, which was when I was around 16," he started. 

"I lived in the same neighborhood as these two guys RM and Suga. They had actually served some time for getting busted with another gang, the Dime Lions, they're long gone now but basically, some shit went down during some kind of gang raid, and RM and Suga ended up taking the fall for it. Instead of the Dime Lions busting them out of jail, they left them there and basically disowned them afterward."

You nodded along to let him know you were following. 

"Anyways RM and Suga, they had a rough start when they got out of the gang, both were bastards, street rats on the Westside they never had anyone to look out for them. So they did the only thing they could do at the time to survive, which was breaking it to cars and shit and cleaning them out. I don't just mean personal belongings of these guys took engine parts, piping, tiers they took it all, and sold it to any scrap shops they could find. At the time, I was working at my uncle's scrapyard. I knew RM and Suga when they were in middle school before they joined the Dime Lions. They stayed with the foster family that lived in my neighborhood. I knew they had been kicked out of the house and were basically living with the Lion's, so when I saw they were working alone, I got curious. For a year or so, I convinced my uncle to continue buying from them even when he started getting a little suspicious about the guys stealing. The guys knew I looked out for them, and we were cool for a while. Then my mom got sick," he paused for a moment looking away from you.

You reached out and placed your hand on his leg knowing how hard it was for him to talk about his mom and Dawon. 

Collecting himself, Hoseok went on, "So I asked for an in with the guys, I needed money and I knew cars. I could remove the parts more effectively than they could. I also knew some clientele who were always coming by and buying parts because they flip cars for fun, those guys were easy targets. So I guess the three of us were a little gang of misfits for a while, I used the money to help pay for mom's treatment. They used the money to survive.

Then we started taking some younger ones under our wing. RM and Suga got their own place and opened their doors to some kids in a rough spot like they were. But as we got bigger, we started getting sloppy. We had been at it for about a year at this point. The guys started taking on some other jobs, but I stuck to what I did best. I wasn't really interested in broadening my horizons. Like I said, we had been at it for a while, and I got cocky, I guess. We had a few scuffles here and there, but we always got out of them okay. Then one night, we got busted scraping a car at some guy's house, and he shot me in the leg, and the cops got me. RM ended up bailing me out of jail, and Suga, Suga got me a gun." 

He shifted in his seat and looked at you nervously, "I wanted out at this point, mom was basically on her deathbed, and I was all Dawon had. I couldn't risk going to jail, ya know. I owed RM money for bail, but my uncle got me a job as an actual mechanic, I thought I could earn money the honest way, pay them back and then Dae and I could just go back to our lives. But then the doctors told us about some experimental treatment that could possibly cure mom. How the hell could I pass that up? I would have done anything to help her get better." his brows furrowed as he tightened his fist into balls.

 "So I stayed. At this point, BTS was growing, it was an official gang, tattoo and all. We had recruited Jin, who came from money, he used some of his trust fund to fund BTS and help us grow, and RM was starting to get a little ambitious. He wanted territory, he wanted me to take the tattoo and be his third." Hobi squeezed his eyes shut as he let out a sigh, he felt like he had to force the words out of him to confess his sins to you. 

"I told you Suga got me a gun after the arrest, and it ended up I'm a really good shot, so good I didn't even have to kill a guy for a long time. I researched where to shoot to keep someone down for a long while without it being fatal, so that's what I did. I worked a few more jobs for RM, we did a big heist. Actually, that was our big break. A team of six other guys and I broke into this old rich dude's mansion, nearly cleaned out his safe when we split the money most of the guys put a percentage into my pot. I walked out that night with almost enough to pay for mom's treatment in full. 

I told RM I wouldn't be his third, and he offered me an out, I just needed to take one more job for him, and he would pay out the rest of mom's bills, so that's what I did. I killed for the first time, and then I was free. I wouldn't have to do any of it again. Well, that's what I intended," he paused, his voice growing softer. 

You tried to keep your face neutral as he revealed the horrors to you. Not that it mattered Hoseok couldn't even bring himself to look at you.

"Mom ended up passing that night." he laughed, a bitter sound that felt foreign to the kind man you knew, "I swear whatever cruel god is out there pulling all the strings did it to punish me. To let me know, they saw what I had become and that I didn't deserve to have people I love in my life. I wasn't good enough to feel love in this world," 

"Hobi, that's not-" he cut you off with a bitter laugh as he looked upwards to hold back his tears. The motion made him seem as though he was searching for the fates he mocked. "Don't y/n, I know what I am,"

"Dae was a senior when mom passed, and it absolutely broke her. I had to fight to get her to go to school for those last few months. Hell, it was a fight to get her out of bed for her graduation. Her exit exams were a disaster, and the councilors at the college were understanding, for the most part. They still admitted her to the school, but not a drop of financial aid was offered to her. She deserved so much more," Hobi's voice was laced with bitter disdain, his eyes looking far off. 

"So I did everything I could to give it to her. I borrowed from Namjoon, enough to cover her entire admission at Alcorn University."

"Hobi, that's so much," you couldn't hold the comment in. It was near impossible for an ordinary person to buy their way into Alcorn if they didn't get scholarships, the tuition at the prestigious school was over $20,000 a semester for admission alone. 

"And I did it, I had Jin make up a fake scholarship for her, send her a cute little letter telling her about the award. She thought that she earned a full ride, and I let her believe it. I even borrowed enough so she would stay in the dorms, I figured it would be safest to keep her out of the house. I didn't know what kind of jobs RM was going to have me do."

"I took the tattoo, and killing became more of a normal thing for me. It started to get easier, I kept my distance and tried my hardest to not even see their eyes. 

There was a big turf war that year. I don't know, the city was on the brink of a recession, a lot of big players in the city were changing the rules of the game. Business owners fought to take down other businesses simply so theirs could stay open, the market was a disaster. I never cared about the politics of any of it, I just did what I was told, and because of that, I'm still not totally sure all I did that year. What lives I took. Who all I hurt. I did everything I could to forget those nights and the blood. I told myself I was doing it for a good reason, ya know. 

I didn't want to know, I thought I would save that for the day I'm standing outside of hell, and they list off every single one of my evil deeds before they sentence their judgment." Hoseok's vacant eyes started to shine with tears.

 "And that was the stupidest fucking thing I could have ever done. I had no clue who had it out for me, I had started feeling invincible. I didn't even consider that someone would want to take their revenge, I had killed Kim Martin Sr.'s son." 

Your blood chilled at the name, and he didn't look at you as he continued.

"He was some big business owner or something, I was supposed to kill him, but there was a mix-up, and I got his son, Kim Martin Jr. instead. Whoever made the call decided that killing his son was just as effective because the grief practically destroyed him. A few misguided stock investments, while he was grieving, crashed his empire. He lost everything and had to move to the Westside in the aftermath. 

Suga kept good tabs on the guy, but then he fell off the grid. We figured he left town or hell maybe he died. We didn't consider him a threat, he showed no interest in coming after BTS, so I didn't even think to keep an eye out for Dawon."

You felt hot tears roll down your face as you realized what happened. The media painted Martin as the bad guy. They accused him of losing his business after his son died due to extreme drug abuse. The city officials wrote him off as such a pathetic low life, that come the time of his death that his murder was barely investigated. It was simply declared a drug deal gone wrong. But he was a father, a father who lost everything to a hitman and wanted to return the favor. 

Hoseok believed he didn't deserve love. Whatever higher power that was calling the shots took everything away from him as punishment. 

You think of your best friend now long passed, her beautiful smile and contagious laugh. The way she could always read you and knew exactly what you needed, whether it be your favorite ice cream on your period or a trip to the botanical gardens in the middle of the night when she knew you were missing home a bit more than normal.

There was a loose glass in the greenhouse that hosted the plants native to your home. You would both scale the fence to the gardens late at night and push that glass panel in and carefully crawl into the greenhouse. The air would be filled with the floral scents you grew up with, and you would just walk the rows of plants and run your fingers over the velvet petals and waxy leaves. 

Until Dawon would play music, a playlist the two of you made of songs in your native tongue. You would dance around the humid greenhouse singing on the top of your lungs while Dawon would laugh and clap along, excitedly shouting with you when she recognized a word or two. 

You thought about the way you and Hoseok both carried a burden of guilt after she passed. Until now, you had felt like you failed her as a best friend and roommate. 

For three years, you had tortured yourself with thoughts like if you hadn't procrastinated so much on your assignments that week, you would have been home when she decided to make a late snack run. You told yourself the robber probably wouldn't have stopped her if you were together. You reasoned that two of you would have deterred her as a target. 

Or maybe he would have just shot you instead. Dawon would have recovered from the loss so much better, she had Hoseok to comfort her and family and friends to support her. You were merely an exchange student in a city with no morals, loved by no one, but taken in out of guilt by her brother. It would've been a better trade. 

You tortured yourself with these thoughts day and night consumed with feelings similar to survivor's guilt.

You never understood Hoseok's guilt, until tonight, you felt like there was nothing he could have done to make that night play out differently. But now you realize he could have anything, and it might have made a difference. 

"Y/n, I understand if you hate me," Hoseok said softly, watching the tears that dripped down your cheek as you processed everything he told you.

"I wanted to honor Dawon's wish. I didn't expect you to do so much for me, for you to become my best friend and for you to make me feel normal. I kept this from you because you were the closest thing to her I had left. There was a time where I thought I would distance myself from you when you moved out. That I would just become another hazy detail to the tragedy, and you would move on completely with your life, but y/n you were so sad, and you needed me too. 

When you moved out, I was terrified of something happening to you. I couldn't stop myself from checking up on you. I couldn't let us grow apart." Hoseok's voice broke off as you looked at him, the pain and betrayal in your eyes.

 "Y/n, you're the closest thing I have to redemption, protecting you, being your friend is the last thread of humanity I have left, I can't lose you," he pleaded. 

"You watched me blame myself," you whispered accusingly, your eyes shining with betrayal. 

"You watched me tear myself apart, and used comforting me to make you feel better about yourself?" 

He flinched at your words, "I tried everything I could to convince you there was nothing you could have done," Hobi argued feebly. 

"Everything but tell the truth," you hissed as hot tears rolled down your cheek. 

You got up as a sob escaped you, your face red and snot running from your nose. Hoseok stood with you, but you flinched away with a broken no.

 "I need time, Hoseok," you begged. 

You swallowed thickly as you did everything in your power to keep it together, "I don't want to hate you, but please, I need time to think about everything," you assured. Even knowing what he did, he was right. You needed him too. If you lost him, you truly didn't have anyone in the city who cared if you lived or died tomorrow. And maybe settling for that made you your own kind of monster. 

It was funny how he claimed such a tarnished person could be his redemption. 

You secure your bag to your shoulder, stepping out into the night air and pulling the door closed behind you. You couldn't even bring yourself to lock the door behind you, afraid that if you stopped moving for one second that you would completely break down and be unable to make it home. You only hoped Hoseok was smart enough to check the door behind you and make sure to lock it. 

You counted the stairs as you made your descent and into the parking lot, making an effort to take in your surroundings. You tried to list off the colors of the cars as you passed them, and while some distant part of you did the action, you still felt like the effort wasn't reaching whatever corner of your brain you were hiding in. 

You got a lot better with controlling your anxiety attacks as you made it further in college, even going as far as taking advantage of the university's free therapy sessions to get professional guidance in your junior year. You defaulted to your go-to grounding technique as your feet moved of their own accord to carry you home. 5,4,3,2,1 was an exercise that made you aware of your surroundings and tether yourself to this world when your mind felt a dimension away. 

The technique walked you through your five senses, making you list off 5 things you could see, 4 things you could feel, 3 things you could hear, two things you could smell, and one thing you could taste. Even in your most anxious moments, you were a slut for making a good list. You always found this exercise more soothing than any breathing technique. 

Your eyes searched without really seeing as you tried to find five things you could see around you. Straining yourself to really take in your surroundings, you settled for a yellow fire hydrant, a car parked on the side of the road, a penny on the ground, a drainage inlet tucked into the curb, and finally your own yellow shoes pacing down the concrete sidewalk. 

You were going to be okay, you reminded yourself as you took an intentional breath. 

Next, four things you can touch, you focused on your breathing as you reached an arm out to graze your fingertips along with the rough brick of the building you walked by.

You shifted a little more with each step, concentrating on how the fabric of your clothes moved across your skin and curling your toes into the padding of your shoes. You didn't count each feeling, your wandering mind struggling to really take in each sensation, but you were sure you touched four things by now.

This was a mistake you often caught yourself making when counting down like this. Sometimes you were in such a rush to reach the end and get to one as if identifying one taste would magically make all your anxieties go away that you forget to take it slow and really center yourself. 

Three things you can hear, it was at the time, as you strained to let the world in through the all-consuming pounding of your heart in your ears, that you realized you were whimpering to yourself slightly. The awareness of your own vulnerability made you stumble as your mind spiraled, and you struggled to find something to tether you back to the earth. 

You began walking faster before realizing you're not certain you were going the right way. So you came to a halt, realizing you couldn't bring yourself to focus enough to take in your surroundings. You stared at the street sign for a long time, repeating the letters to yourself as you made them form a word finally settling on Gardenia. 

Your breathing hitched as you realized you had wandered off the main streets and into a neighborhood in your daze. You were lost, but you couldn't bring yourself to care about it, and the lack of fear flashed an alarm in your mind that let you know you were too far gone to count away your anxieties.

You struggled to breathe as you tried to come up with a decision. You needed to ground yourself to calm down. You needed to list off 5 things you could see, fourth things you could feel, three things you could hear, two things you could smell, and one thing you could taste. You knew the only way to bring yourself back to the world was to become aware of your settings. 

But it felt as if the part of your brain that knew all these things didn't even touch whatever part of your mind was controlling you now. You were better off giving directions to the light pole you stood under. 

You felt your breathing get harder as you desperately gasped in all the air you could. Your arms and legs began to tingle as your body over oxidized, and your head began to spin. 

Slowly you slumped to the ground, wrapping your arms around the light pole you had stopped under as you spiraled. 

What were you even doing before this moment? How did you even get here? You forced your eyes open wide, hoping the action would make you actually see and register what you were looking at to no avail. 

What were you doing, what were you doing, what were you doing?

You struggled to reign in your thoughts of your laughing best friend and her crying brother. Or was it your crying best friend and his dead sister? 

You were supposed to find three things you could hear. Your crying doesn't count. A more logical voice seemed to get through to you. 

You strained your ears to hear past your own breathing, you could hear a frog croaking in the grass nearby, you felt the earth beneath you to confirm you had in fact settled in a patch of grass. You smiled to yourself proud of your progress as you continued to listen as you continued to listen. You heard the electricity buzzing in the light pole you had wrapped your arms around, you felt almost childlike as you opened your eyes. Actually, seeing this time as you looked up at the pole, you were around. 

You needed one more sound, you strained your ears, expecting to be met with something like a far off car driving by. Instead, you heard your name being called. You blinked as you turned away from the street lamp and towards the repeating sound of a familiar set of syllables coming from a familiar voice. 

Jungkook jogged up to as he saw you curled around a lamppost. Even from a distance, he could see the rapid way your chest was rising and falling in that familiar chaotic rhythm he only saw when he found Taehyung or Yoongi having a panic attack. You looked up at him with a tear-stained face and saw the confusion of his presence take you off guard and snap whatever control you had over yourself. 

Your face crumpled as a sob broke from your chest, and you turned away from him and curled yourself around the light pole a little tighter. 

Jungkook felt such a rush of guilt and panic at the sight of you so broken that he ignored the dull ache in his knees as he instinctively fell down in the grass next to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you from the cold metal pole, trying to position comfortably in his chest. 

Jungkook shifted as he uncurled his legs from beneath his body and stretched them out next to yours in front of him, trying to touch as much of his body to you in comfort. You didn't resist, but the jolting motions did seem to make you more upset for a short moment. Jungkook realized he forgot to ask for permission to touch you before he acted. 

He knew Tae preferred physical comfort to calm down, but sometimes it could act more as a trigger when unwelcomed. He loosened his grip hesitantly, and you wrapped your arms around his middle, hugging him closer to you in response. 

Physical contact is. He thought to himself as he began stroking one hand up and down your back and rocking you both side to side slightly as if he was trying to calm a baby from a tantrum. 

Which he basically was doing, you thought bitterly to yourself as you accepted the comfort.

You were too far gone to calm yourself down. You had ridden the river of upsetting thoughts that triggered your attack all the way down, and now you risked floating out to sea and losing yourself forever. Not actually forever, just until you would cry yourself unconscious and wake up to start anew. But you supposed accepting comfort was better than sleeping outside in a neighborhood you didn't know. 

Jungkook whispered to you, not the sweet nothings people typically say when they see people break down like 'it's going to be okay,' or most annoyingly 'breath.' No Jungkook simply told you, 'you're safe,' 'take your time,' 'you're stronger than you give yourself credit for' and in your case most importantly, 'exhale.' 

When people see you having a panic attack and hear the loud gasp you make as you fight to breathe, they instinctively tell you to breathe as a way to calm down. But it's your failure to let the air out that keeps your body over oxidized, making it harder for you to feel in control of yourself. 

Slowly, you regained control of your body, and your desperate gasps for air morphed into shallow panting. Your shallow breathing morphed into soft whimpers and sniffled. Jungkook held you as your continuous knit itself together, and you faced the pain your mind was so desperate to escape.

He rubbed you back as you let out soft sobs as you reopened wounds that had healed into jagged scars. You cried for Dawon and her undeserved death. For Hoseok and the guilt you knew, he carried every day. You cried for Kim Martin, who died at the hands of the killer that stole his son. You cried for yourself, over the fear of the future as you saw it grow intimately tangled with a notorious gang.

You don't know how long Jungkook waited as you reeled yourself back together. He waited long after you finished crying, knowing just because you had control of yourself physically didn't mean you were mentally ready to face the world, so he wrapped you in his warmth and hummed to himself as he rocked you both slowly. 

You loosened and tightened your grip on his shirt and curled and uncurled your toes as you tried to become more aware of your body. You were basically sprawled out on the grass with your upper body twisted and pulled into Jungkook's middle. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but you weren't willing to risk losing his warmth to move. 

You licked your lips, and the jarring taste of your salty tears pulled you from your self pitying thoughts, deciding to work your way up the list you once again started to count. 

One thing you taste, salt. 

Two things you smell: you inhaled deeply and took in the smell of laundry detergent that clung to Jungkkook's shirt. "Detergent," you mumbled into his shirt, and the sound of a coherent word leaving you made Jungkook's humming stop as he looked down at you, nuzzling your face deeper into his chest. He held in his chuckle as you stiffed the air again, and confidently said, "and grass."

You finally pulled yourself away from him only slightly to turn your face away from him, your cheek still pressed against his chest.

"I can hear frogs, cars nearby, and.. your heart," you listed as you looked up at him from under you thick lashes still clumped with tears, "it's louder than mine," you observed as you listened to the hammering in his chest. 

He was from a different kind of nerves. 

He recognized the countdown and realized you were working to ground yourself, "What can you feel?" he prompted eager to get you to move on from his pounding heart. 

"Your t-shirt, it's soft, the grass poking at me through my jeans, my bra digging into me" you wrinkled your nose as you became aware of the discomfort. 

"And?" Jungkook prompted. A smile curled your lips as you looked up at him mischievously, "You're abs," you giggled as you sat up, finally pulling away from him. Jungkook felt the heat crawl up his neck as he turned away, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. 

"And what do you see?" he asked gently, looking everywhere but you. 

You smiled at his bashfulness as you look around, "I see the street sign, the green grass," you pause as you squint, "I think that's either a rock or some dog poop over there," Jungkook let out a startled laugh. You smiled to yourself proudly as you continued. 

"Our shadows from the street light, and,” you pause realizing how close the two of you are, "the little mole underneath your lip."

"Good," he whispered, and you watched in fascination how his lips formed the words, "Are you ready to get up now, or do you need a few minutes?" he asked. It was the way his mouth twisted into a smile at the end of the sentence that made you realize you were still staring at his lips. You blinked before looking up at his eyes, which was alight with a teasing glint. 

"I can stand," you answered, flustered as you pulled your body away from him. Maneuvering your feet beneath you to get up. Jungkook offered you a hand once he was up helping pull you to your feet, before bending down and grabbing your purse for you. Your feet still tingled in that pins and needles feeling. You wiggled your hands to wake up your fingers as well, but other than that, you felt like you recovered from the physical toll of the panic attack quite well.

"C'mon my place is at the end of this road, let me grab a car and drive you home," he offered. 

You walked with him obediently, your hands brushing past each other twice before Jungkook's hand finally snatched yours mid-swing; you looked down and watched as your fingers intertwined with his effortlessly. You looked to him to see a change in his expression, but he looked straight ahead as he walked, acting as if nothing happened. 

You smiled at yourself, thankful for the affection. You always did get a little clingy after panic attacks, relying heavily on skinship and the feeling of someone taking care of you as a way to feel calm. You were surprised how easy it was for you to let Jungkook fall into that roll despite barely knowing him. But you suppose in the handful of interactions the two of you shared, he's always prioritized your comfort and safety. 

"This is your house?" you asked as you took in the massive white art deco house behind the gate you stopped in front of. The gate buzzed and rolled open for the two of you of its own accord and rolled open for the two of you. 

Jungkook smiled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah, kinda," he said with a shrug. 

You raised a brow, "kinda?"

"It's complicated, c'mon let's get you home," he said with a tug reminding you that the two of you were still holding hands. You flushed but followed obediently as you made your way to the garage. 

You squinted as your eyes were met with a flood of fluorescent light upon opening the door. A row of vehicles lined its way down the length of the garage, varying from sports car, to jeep, to a large black truck at the end of the row. A line of 4 motorcycles along the furthest wall. 

"J-Hope sells Namjoon a car any chance he gets," Jungkook chuckled as he took in your awed expression. 

"J-Hope?" you questions, and Jungkook's smile faltered.

"That's what we call Hoseok," he clarified. 

You nodded in understanding, "Like how Taehyung goes by V?" you asked, and he nodded. 

"Hoseok, does he sell drugs like V does?" you asked curious of what all Hoseok's gang involvement entailed.

Jungkook opened his mouth to answer but was cut off as the adjacent door slammed up from what looked to be inside the house, revealing a man in a black t-shirt with a mop of platinum blond hair. 

"There you are," he practically growled as he stormed in the room.

The man was dwarfed by Jungkook a good bit, but somehow Jungkook seemed to cower and appear smaller as the man approached, dropping your hand as if he were caught doing something he shouldn't. 

You looked at him curiously and wondered if he was. 

"Yoongi hyung," he greeted as he tried to force a smile, "I was just about to-" 

"Save it," he snapped, "I have half the army out looking for you, ya know," he turned his fury to you much to your surprise as he added "both of you." 

Your mouth fell open, shocked by the confusion apparent on your face as he continued, "Do I need to babysit both of you, because believe it or not, she's taking up a lot of my time. I really can't handle you getting flakey on me Jungkook, we need to know that you're safe," 

Jungkook looked down as he lectured, murmuring a small apology. 

"And you" Yoongi turned to you, "That goes for you too, the Black Tips are still on your tail, I can't do much for you if you go running off,"

"Hyung," Jungkook hissed. "Not now, please." 

Yoongi blinked at his younger in surprise, turning to you and making a point to really look at you, and take you in. Your red-rimmed eyes and splotchy face, the way you seemed to lean into Jungkook. He recognized that far off look in your eyes like you had to concentrate on being present in the moment, and Yoongi remembered the warning in Hoseok's earlier message when he told him you had run out.

"Yeah, okay, get her home and come straight back when you're done, we still need to talk," he said dismissively. None of your questions were answered, but you didn't resist as Jungkook put a hand on your back and guided you towards a nearby car. 

"Good night, princess," Yoongi called over his shoulder before closing the door behind him. Unlike with Jimin, you felt like you were being mocked when Yoongi called you that.

"Who was that, your brother, and why did he say he needs to babysit me?" you questioned as you both settled into the fine black vehicle the windows were so deeply tinted on the outside you wondered if it was safe to drive at night, but upon getting in the car, you noted that you could see through the windows clearly. 

Jungkook waited until after he put the key in the ignition and backed out into the driveway before he started talking."That's Yoongi hyung or Suga, he's head of surveillance for BTS. He was the one who sent out a message to go escort you home when J– Hobi Hyung told him you were upset and left his apartment so late. I was on my way in that direction when I ran across you on our street," he said, breaking at a stop sign and turning on the blinker.

You looked out the window as you took in everything he's told you, noting that you were stopped again by the light pole you had a panic attack under. Suga was one of the original members in Hoseok's story. You thought to yourself as you connected the dots. Your head still felt a little foggy as you recovered from the literal mental breakdown. The sudden change of lighting earlier had started to make your head throb. You were ready for bed.

"Hobi sent people to look for me?" was all you could manage, not entirely understanding the emotions stirring in your chest. 

"Well yeah, I mean, I was supposed to escort you home after work, and you kind changed plans, so we had to roll with them. I figured Hoseok would have taken you home after everything, so I didn't wait around. And then when Suga did send out the message I didn't notify them that I found you it was dumb on my part," he clarified. 

You leaned onto the console between the two of you, propping your cheek upon your hand in a way that squished your lips into a slight pout. Jungkook tried not to stiffen as you got more in his space. Peeking down at you through his peripherals he saw your brow furrow as you processed everything. 

"Why do you care?" you finally settled on asking as you still struggled to pinpoint why so many people would be worried about your safety.

Hoseok, you understood, to a certain extent, you even understood why he called in the favor. He knew your patterns and signs, you were probably shouting you were about to have an attack with your body language as you walked out the door. He knew he could never comfort you, not when he was the trigger. What you didn't understand was why BTS would listen.

"Because you're still not safe, and BTS took responsibility for your safety when I did," Jungkook said, simply turning to look at you as he stopped at a red light. 

If you were in the right state of mind, such a comment would have triggered an immediate fight. You had been on your own for far too many years to suddenly need a whole gaggle of men to tend to you as if you were some helpless girl. You were a grown-ass woman. But you weren't yourself as you searched for a response in the fog of your mind. 

"You're not responsible for anything about me?" you said softly as you shifted to rest your hand on your chin. 

"Y/n what all did Hoseok hyung tell you?" Jungkook asked, confused, you weren't rejecting his protection, you just seemed oblivious. He assumed the cat was out of the back as soon as you learned what BTS was, who they were concerning you. 

"Just how he joined BTS as how he ya know," you stuck your pointer finger and thumb in the air making soft 'pew pew' sounds. You couldn't bring yourself to talk seriously about the subject. Too much of this night had been severe for your liking. 

"Y/n, you saved my life last week," Jungkook said, trying to look in your eyes and convey all his gratitude. You shifted under his stare.

"I wouldn't call it that," you murmured, turning away, "The lights green," you added flatly trying to turn his attention from you. He ignored you and placed a warm hand over yours. 

"I would, and because of that, I and all of BTS owe you a life debt. We want to protect you as best as we can, especially since you're not totally safe from the guys you saved me from," he emphasized. 

You looked up at him owlishly as you thought over everything he said. But whatever you were going to say died on your lips as a car honked its horn behind you. You both jumped startled, and the intensity of the moment evaporated slightly. 

After a few moments of silence, you decided he didn't require a response. You can't imagine you would give a correct one anyways. You looked down at your hand, his larger one still resting atop your own and turned your wrist quickly and intertwining your fingers.

You rode in silence the rest of the way home, and you were fighting your eyelids as you pulled up to your complex. 

Jungkook wondered if you always fell asleep in the car even with dangerous men. He wondered if that's why he never sees you take the bus at night.

"You really should consider living somewhere safer," Jungkook muttered under his breath as he shut off the engine.

You bit your tongue holding in several comments and gave a noncommittal 'mmm' as you unbuckled and stepped out the car to see he planned to walk you to your door again. 

You grew embarrassed as you climbed the stairs and scrambled to think of parting words dwelling on everything Jungkook had done for you that night, "Thank you," you finally forced yourself to say. Jungkook looked down at you as you came to a halt in front of your door. "For earlier, with the crying and the counting," you offered awkwardly your eyes looking everywhere but his as you breached the sensitive topic. 

"Oh, it wasn't a problem, really. I'm glad I could help" he laughed nervously, and you smiled, reaching for his hand before he could bring it to the back of his head, a nervous habit you were quickly picking up on him having. 

"I'm serious Jungkook, a lot of people freak out and make the situation much worse for me, and I get it seeing someone crying like that it's never an easy thing to react to, but you did—" you hesitated as you searched for the right words, "You were good, comforting." 

You didn't give yourself time to question it as you stood on your tiptoes, deciding to convey your gratitude in a way that your stuttering mouth wouldn't botch, and grazed a small peck aiming for his cheek. Unfortunately, the height difference and your own lack of balance had you landing more on his jawline. Jungkook gasped only slightly at the feeling of your soft lips on his jaw, the heat of your body radiating off of you in your nearness. You smiled at him again as you turned towards the door to unlock it. 

"Haha yeah, happy to hear that," he responded, his voice crawling in pitch as he ordered his heart to beat, and you gave him another warm smile as you pushed open your door. 

"Good night, Jungkook."

"Good night, Ella." 

Jungkook's face split into a grin as you closed the door, a hand reaching for his jaw and pressing against where you kissed him as if it would simulate the feeling. His steps seemed to bounce as he made his way down the concrete stairs and back to his car.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading please tell me what you think! Your comments make me eager to write more :)

Pt.5 ->

[binniebutter]

Under The Wisteria

Pairing: Choi Soobin x fem!reader

Genre: Angst Angst Angst; fluff ig, dystopian au

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: violence, gun violence, blood, major character death, I think that’s all

Summary: You just wanted to be with him forever, but you didn’t mean under the Wisteria tree.

Credit: beta read by @nottodayjjk and @inmyfelix from @txtarcadianet. Thanks so much babes!

a/n: I messed up the tags so I deleted and now I’m posting again🥲 but yea this is a birthday gift for @unlocktxt​ also i can’t write kissing scenes don’t make fun of me.

“Happy birthday to you,” you jumped in your seat a little, startled by your friend’s mom’s sudden singing, “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Y/n, happy birthday to youuuuu.” She walked into the dining room with a single vanilla cupcake in her hands, a candle sporting the number 18 on top. There was no icing or sprinkles on the cupcake yet it still looked ravishing to you. The government only allowed for sweets on special occasions, like birthdays or weddings, and even then it could only be so many calories. This was the government's way of getting rid of obesity in Lamore, along with other, harsher, methods.

“Thank you, Mrs. Johnson. It means so much to me.” You looked up at her and could see the sparkles in her eyes. That was one thing you loved about Mrs. Johnson, she always had sparkles in her eyes and a positive outlook on this fucked-up place we call Earth. Even after the incident…

“Oh dear, it was my pleasure! And how many times have I told you to call me mom, darling?” A lot. Almost every day, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do that. Every time you looked at her, you not only saw the sparkles, but you also saw her.

Amelia.

You see, Amelia was your best friend. You had known her since you were 3. You guys did everything together, homework, parties, shopping. Everything. Your families were also close to each other. So close that she called your mom “mama” and you called her mom “mom”. You loved each other dearly and made a promise to be best friends forever, always wearing promise rings on your pinkies. Until one fateful day. It had been all your fault. You wanted ice cream so badly that day, even though you knew that you could only have it on your birthday. You didn’t care though, begging your mother, who had taken Amelia and yourself to the park that day, to get some from the vendor.

“Please, mom. Please please please with a cherry on top,” you pleaded with your hands clasped in front of you. “Please it’s so hot I could melt. You wouldn’t want your only daughter to melt, do you?”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not my only daughter. I have Amelia too,” your mom childishly stuck out her tongue at you, causing you to look at your best friend with a pout on your face. Immediately, Amelia knew what to do.

“But mama, I want some ice cream too,” she said with a pout that you knew your mother couldn’t resist. And you were right because her resolve started wavering and soon the three of you were heading towards the ice cream vendor located in the middle of the park.

“Hello, sir. Three ice creams, please!” The man at the stand eyed you skeptically before asking who’s birthday it was. You replied before your mother could even open her mouth.

“Mine! Can I please have a cookie and cream ice cream with a waffle cone?” The man had seen how enthusiastic you were and assumed you weren’t lying. After hearing Amelia and your mother’s orders, he immediately got to work and soon enough you were walking away from him, licking your ice cream.

“Come on, Amelia, let’s go to the swings! Last one there is a rotten egg,” you took off towards the swings, leaving Amelia shouting about how you had cheated. Once you both got there, you sat right beside each other, kicking your legs back and forth while gossiping about some boys in your class. In the middle of you telling a story about one dude, a little girl about 5 years old came up to you two asking if it was one of your birthdays. You both had forgotten all about the Capitol rules and answered her truthfully, no.

“Oh, ok,” she bid you goodbye and ran away. You turned back to Amelia and shrugged your shoulders, going back to your story. You both were so absorbed in the story that you didn’t notice the little girl, or what you thought was a little girl, going to tell her mother. But one person did notice, your mom. She saw the tattoo on the girl’s arm and immediately knew who, what, she was. A spy for the Capitol.

Immediately, your mother made her way over to the two of you, telling you that it was time to leave. You should've listened to her. Instead, you were your stubborn self and insisted that you stay a little longer. Amelia had always been the more obedient one out of the two of you and seeing how urgent your mother was on getting you to leave, tried to convince you. Again, you should’ve listened to her. But you didn’t.

“Excuse me,” a voice sounded from behind your mom and you saw her face become as pale as a ghost. She turned around and was immediately tased. Her body convulsed on the floor for a few seconds before she stilled on the grass. You screamed in shock, drawing the attention of the other park users. Amelia grabbed your hand in fear, too scared to do anything. You squeezed her hand to comfort her but she could tell that you were just as scared. The woman stepped over your mother’s body and took a step towards the two of you, which in return to you took a step backward.

“Now, which one of you lied, and said it was their birthday? You both should know that Lenore doesn’t allow liars here,” she had a smile on her face the whole time she was speaking, but instead of comforting you, it terrified you. After a few moments of silence, her smile dropped into a scowl. “Well,” she barked at you causing you to shrink in fear, “Who was it? Or am I going to have to punish both of you?” Your eyes widened in shock. Both of us. You couldn’t let Amelia get hurt. Little did you know, Amellia had the same thoughts. And so before you opened your mouth, she spoke.

“Me, ma’am. It was me.” Although her voice was quiet, you could hear the firmness in it.

“What!?!? Amelia, no!” But alas it was too late. She had been tased the moment the words had left her mouth. You watched in horror as your best friend fell limp on the grass. You couldn’t scream. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t even cry as you watched her eyes roll to the back of her head. Even after the cleanup crew came to take their bodies away, you were still standing in the same spot, looking at the place where your mother and best friend had just been. You didn’t want to believe they were gone. They couldn’t be. It wasn’t until you felt arms wrap around you and bring you into an embrace did you break down. Your mother and your best friend, your platonic soulmate, the only one who knows you better than yourself, were gone. You sobbed and sobbed into the person’s shirt. You couldn’t care less that they were a stranger, you needed someone. After you calmed down you looked up at your savior for the first time. It was a boy around your age, maybe a few years older.

“Thank you,” you paused, feeling silly for not even knowing his name.

“Soobin, Choi Soobin,” he answered with a small smile on his face. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

“Forever?” you asked with a small sniffle.

“Forever.”

You met Choi Soobin when you were 10 years old.

After you finished celebrating with Mrs. Johnson, which consisted of splitting the cupcake in half and opening the gift she got you, a brand new pair of workout sneakers, you both headed up to your rooms. It was almost curfew time and you knew the Capitol Workers were making their way around for nightly checks. You remembered reading in a history book, that somehow was missed when all the books of the past were burned, that curfew back then was way different and that not everyone had a curfew. The person with a curfew just had to be home by that time. No random stranger was coming into your room to see if you were sleeping. How lucky.

You tensed up as you heard the front door open. He’s here. You didn’t know your Capitol Worker well. You didn’t even know what he looked like. All you knew was that he’s a guy and he comes to your room every night to check if you’re asleep.

You closed your eyes and willed your heart to slow down to a normal pace. Your room door opened and you could hear the heavy sound of the combat boots that all CW’s were forced to wear. They took a few steps toward you, which was unusual, and you held your breath. This is it. I’m gonna die. They’re gonna know that I’m faking-

You paused in your thoughts at the sound of the boots walking towards the door and it being closed. You let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Jesus, that was scary,” you muttered, still scared of them hearing you. You continued to lay in bed even after you heard the front door shut. After waiting a few more minutes, you got up and headed towards your closet. You put on some dark clothing before grabbing your backpack and heading to your window. Looking out the window carefully, you saw the CW’s moving on to the next street.

“Perfect.” You opened up your window and stuck a leg out. You shivered a little bit as it was chilly out. With one hand still holding your window you pulled your other leg outside, now sitting on the sill. With your other hand, you reached for the closest branch of the cherry blossom tree in your backyard. Using the hand still on the window, you closed it shut, making sure the sound wasn’t loud. Now you were dangling from the tree. Expertly, you swung yourself up onto the branch, having done this a million times before. Once on the tree, you were able to climb down safely, without being seen. Great. Looking left and right, making sure no one saw you, you headed down the pathway that you’ve traveled frequently. The pathway to the love of your life.

Who, you may ask. Well, none other than your savior.

“Hey Y/n,” you didn’t let him finish as you engulfed him in a big hug. You didn’t let go for a while, squeezing him so tight he almost couldn’t breathe. You hugged him as if it was your last hug and Soobin was rapidly getting worried that it might be. You could feel his heartbeat increase and pulled away slightly to reassure him.

“I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong, I just missed you.” At your words, Soobin calmed down and a shy smile overtook his face. You smiled widely at his shyness. He’s so cute!

“Babe, we saw each other today at school.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same and you know it. We’re not allowed to hug each other or kiss each other.” A devilish smirk appeared on your face as an idea popped into your head. “Like this!” You cupped Soobin’s face in your hands and brought it to yours, leaving a quick peck on his lips. You laughed at the shocked expression on his face.

Anyone who knew Soobin knew that he was timid. He didn’t speak a lot in school unless he was called on. He sat by himself during lunch, which worried you a little because you didn’t want him to be lonely, but anytime you expressed your concerns he reassured you that he likes the quietness. Which usually wouldn’t soothe your worries, but Soobin is different when with you.

With you, he talks exceedingly, maybe too much if you were being honest. With you, he wasn’t afraid to laugh his boisterous laugh. With you, he could be himself and he was grateful to you for that.

“Yah! You can’t just d-do that!” Even though it was dark and you couldn’t see it, you knew that there was a bright blush on Soobin’s face.

“Why? Aren’t I your girlfriend?” you teased. You loved teasing Soobin. It was your favorite pastime. Though at your words, you could feel the mood change. It was like a breeze came by and took away the lightness of your banter.

“But you aren’t.” The street lamp cast a light on his face for a moment and you could see the sadness etched on his face. He was right. You weren’t his girlfriend, not technically. The government has this rule that no one is allowed to date until they are 30. Apparently, it deals with overpopulation. Man, fuck The Capitol.

“Y-yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry,” you said looking at your feet. Soobin looked at you with sad eyes. He hated seeing you like this which is why when the two of you met up, you never talked about this. But it was bound to come up sooner or later. He lifted your chin with his thumb and index finger, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“I love you. Let’s not talk about this tonight. It’s your birthday!” He placed a kiss on your forehead, then your cheeks, which were blushing red at his affection, one on your nose, and lastly he placed a passionate kiss on your lips. You immediately kissed back, shocked.

It was different, not like the small pecks the two of you share. It lasted longer and you could feel all the emotions that he was trying to convey in the kiss. You closed your eyes and deepened the kiss, hoping to show him how much you loved him. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you more into him. When your lungs felt as if they were to collapse if you didn’t stop, you pulled away, a daze in your eyes. Looking at Soobin, you saw his usual small, crooked smile on his face.

“Happy birthday, love. Forever?”

“Forever.”

“What if we run away?”

It’s been about a month since your birthday and currently, you have your head in Soobin’s lap, gazing up at him. He has his back resting on the wisteria tree behind him, a book in one hand while the other runs through your hair. His big, round glasses are adorned on the bridge of his nose, sliding down every few seconds. His blue bangs are covering his eyes today, not gelled back like usual. He looks like an idol Harry Potter adorable, you think. He should leave his hair down more often. It’s when he moves his hand from your hair to turn the page that you pop the question, causing him to stop and freeze.

“W-what?” he asks while looking down at you. His head is tilted, almost as if he didn’t hear you properly. But he did. And you know that. “Y-you want us to r-run away!?”

“Ok, I know it sounds crazy but we both love each other dearly, right?” He nods and you continue. “And it’s not like we have anything here weighing us down. Plus this country is horrible. I hate it and so do you. So let’s just leave. We can go to Averna, rent a home, start a family, grow old together.” Your voice slows down and you start sounding less sure of yourself once you see the look on Soobin’s face. “Do you not want that…”

“Of course I want that!” You flinch a little at the sound of his voice. In all of the 8 years that you’ve known Soobin, he has never raised his voice at you. Seeing your flinch, he lowers his volume. “Of course, I do Y/n, but how are we supposed to run away? There’s a tracker in our necks. The only reason we haven’t been tracked yet is cause they think we’re sleeping. If we leave, someone will report it. They could easily find us and bring us back….or worse.”

You know what he means by worse. The Capitol hates when citizens break the rules. You’ll end up the same as Amelia and your mother. You shudder at the memory of their limp bodies being carried off the grass. You push those thoughts to the back of your head as you open your mouth to speak again but you are cut off.

“No, Y/n, I’m serious. We are not running away. We’ll be killed. And what about Mrs. Johnson, huh? Do you really want her to lose another daughter?”

His words hit you hard. You look at him like a gaping fish, opening your mouth repeatedly but words never come out. He is right, of course, he is right. But you had always been the stubborn one.

“I DON’T CARE, SOOBIN!” Now he is the one to flinch back in shock. “I am tired of living in this terrible place, aren’t you? We’re treated like crap here, having to follow all these stupid rules. I wanna be able to eat candy whenever I want. I wanna be able to go out at night without having to be sneaky. I want to marry you, Soobin, before I turn freaking 30. And I can’t get any of these in Lamore. So let’s leave. Please,” you beg. You thought your words would be all that was needed to convince Soobin but you are wrong.

“Y/n. I love you so much. But I can’t do this, I can’t allow you to do this. We can’t. They’ll kill us once they find us and-”

“I’m going, Soobin. With or without you,” you tell him while standing up and he knows from the firmness in your voice that your mind is set. “Tomorrow night. I’m leaving tomorrow night at sunset. If you want to join me, meet me here, under the Wisteria.” You turn around to leave and take a few steps before Soobin’s words make you pause in your tracks.

“Forever?” It is a last resort. He thinks maybe he can change your mind. But you don’t even look back before continuing on your journey home. Soobin looks down dejectedly at his shoes before standing up and walking in the opposite direction you have.

What neither of you had noticed, was a certain Capitol Worker watching you the whole time. 

“She’s leaving tomorrow at sunset.” “...” “Don’t worry, I have a plan.”

The next day at school, you had expected to see Soobin in your first period, sitting in the front row as usual. Red flag number one should’ve been when you noticed that he wasn’t there when you walked in. He’s always early. You brushed it off though. Red flag number two was when the bell rang and the teacher started the class and Soobin still wasn’t here. Soobin’s never late to class. Again you pushed the thought away, focusing on what the teacher was writing on the board.

It’s the end of the day and still no sign of Soobin. You were extremely worried now and had reason to be. Even when he had the flu he came to school, albeit he was sent home immediately. You forced yourself to calm down, willing the worry that was bubbling in the bottom of your stomach to go down. It’s ok, you’ll see him tonight. You were certain he would be there. He loves you, there’s no way he wouldn’t be there. Boy were you in for a shock.

At about 10 minutes to sunset, you headed to the Wisteria tree which had quickly become your safe haven. A place where you could truly be yourself with your lover. A place where many kisses were shared, many memories were made. You smiled at the thought. But your smile was wiped off your face at the sight before your eyes.

Because there was Soobin, tied up to the tree with a gag in his mouth, and a boy around your age, maybe younger, next to him. His eyes were wide with worry and fear, for his life or yours you couldn’t tell. What the hell is happening?

“Oh hello, Y/n dear. Nice of you to finally join the party.” The boy spoke. “Do you know who I am?” Slowly, you shook your head no. His lips turned upwards into a smirk. He was fairly attractive and if you weren’t in love with Soobin, you would swoon. “My name is Kang Taehyun. Your CW.” A gasp slipped from your mouth.

“M-my, my what!? Y-you’re the one who does my curfew check? But you’re just a kid.” When the word left your mouth a hard glare was thrown your way. “N-nevermind, not a kid. Got it.”

“Good work, Taehyun.” A  feminine voice resounded from behind you. You turned in the direction of the voice and froze. No. Right in front of your eyes was the same woman you had met almost a decade ago. The same woman that had held a taser to your mother and best friends’ necks. The same woman who had stepped over their lifeless bodies as she had left the park. The same woman who had smiled at you from over her shoulder, as if she were happy that you had no one left. “Y/n, we meet once again. Oh, what’s with that frown? Aren’t you happy to see me?” She mocked you. She had killed your family and she dared to mock you. You felt a bolt of anger surge through your body. You got ready to lunge at her but stopped at the cock of a gun.

“Uh, uh, uh. Take a step back or else I’ll blow your brains out.” You smirked. You weren’t afraid of dying. It would’ve been worth it to hurt the bitch.

“I don’t care. She deserves to feel pain. It’s not as strong as the pain of losing your family but close enough.” You took a step forward your arm raised to throw a punch at her, but then Taehyun uttered words you never wanted to ever hear.

“Maybe you don’t value your life, but I’m sure lover boy over here does.” You stopped in your tracks for the nth time that day, turning around to see Taehyun’s gun pointed straight at Soobin’s head. You looked into his eyes and saw nothing but fear and you knew that your eyes reflected his. When all you did was continue to stare at Soobin, Taehyun started to become impatient and shot up into the air. You jumped at the booming sound and looked over at him. “Next shot will be in his head.” 

“P-please. What do you want? I’ll give you anything, just please, don’t hurt him,” your voice was shaky as you begged for his life. He can’t die, you won’t allow it. “K-kill me. Please kill me instead. Spare him.” At your words, Soobin tried his best to break free from his restraints. He struggled and struggled until Taehyun punched him in the face, forcing him to stop and causing you to scream in anguish.

“NOOOO!”  The pain in your voice could be heard from a mile away. Your sobs echoing in the darkness. You have never cried as hard as this. “PLEASE I BEG OF YOU STOP! STOP PLEASE. LEAVE HIM ALONE, TAKE ME. HURT ME.” You never imagined that you would be in this situation. Watching Soobin, the love of your life, your forever, in pain. Blood dripped from his nose and you cringed at the sight.

“Oh darling, we plan to. But first, why don’t you enlighten us on why you want to leave Lamore?” The silky smooth voice behind you spoke again. How does she know that? She must’ve read your mind because she answered your question right after. “Taehyun here has been following you, getting intel on you, for about a month now. You’re a sneaky one, aren’t you?”

A month? Why only a month? And they both must be mind-readers as Taehyun answered you next. “Your breath. The night of your birthday. It was too fast, almost as if you were nervous. And what would you have to be nervous about if you were sleeping?” His eyebrow quirked up a little as he asked the question. “So I came closer than I usually do to make sure I was seeing correctly. I was, it turns out.” So that’s why he took more steps towards you than usual. You knew something was up.

“So what, you followed me here. And you’ve been following me this whole time?”

“Precisely. Now answer Miss Paige’s question. Why do you want to leave Lamore?” You glared at the both of them, your stubborn self not answering. “Oh, no answer? Alright,” as he said that, Taehyun pointed his gun at Soobin’s leg and pulled the trigger. A deafening boom ringing in your ears but you didn’t hear. All you heard was Soobin’s horrifying scream. He’s in pain. And it’s my fault. 

You watched as blood spurred from the love of your life’s leg and you saw how he stumbled a little at the loss of support. I did this. 

“I-if I tell you everything, everything. Will you leave Soobin alone? And get him to a hospital?”

“See, darling. That’s not gonna work. Taehyun here, he’s bloodthirsty. He needs to kill at the sight of blood.” The fuck is wrong with this dude? Yea, definitely not attracted to him anymore. “So one of you here is gonna have to die.” Her creepy smile never left her face.

“O-ok, kill me. Not Soobin, me,” you said the words quietly, hoping that Soobin wouldn’t hear you. But even in his loopy state, he heard. He started struggling against his binds once again. You made eye contact with him and put on a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You hoped to calm him but did the opposite. Worry pooled in his eyes and you looked away, knowing what you had to do. “Promise me. Swear that you won’t harm him anymore.”

“Alright. I swear on my daughter that I won’t harm lover boy.” And so you told them. You told them how much you hated the Capitol and Lamore in general. You told them how you loved Soobin and wanted to be with him forever. You told them how you planned to run away to Arena but Soobin didn’t want to. You told them everything. And when you were finally finished, you closed your eyes, awaiting death. You heard the sound of the gun and smiled. I’ll see you soon, Amelia, mom. But after a few moments of no pain, you opened your eyes. And screamed at the sight.

Soobin. With a bullet lodged in his head. You rushed over to him, your hands hovering over his body, too scared to touch him. You sobbed even harder than the first time you met him, your wails even causing Paige to feel sympathy for a moment. But only for a moment. You wheeled your head towards her, rage in your eyes. 

“You promised! You promised you wouldn’t kill him! You swore on your daughter, you lying bitch.” You screamed at her, feeling another part of your heart break. You lost one half of your heart at 10 years old and now, you lost the other half. You had a heart no more, all that was left was a hole in your chest. 

“Fun fact,” she leaned close to whisper in your ear, “ I don’t have a daughter.”

That must’ve been your breaking point because you wrapped your hands around her neck. Now you were the bloodthirsty one. But before you could even see a glimpse of pain in her eyes, a shot rang out. You looked down at your shirt, seeing a pool of red seep out. You smirked. It worked. I get to be with my family now.

You stumbled backward, ending beside Soobin, your back resting on the Wisteria tree that you used to call home. You leaned your head on his shoulder, thinking about the last thing he said to you. 

“Forever?”

And as you closed your eyes, you answered him.

“Forever.”

TXT Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[bruh-haikyuu]

Waaaaaaah!!! I really liked you (internecine/oikawa tooru)!!! Can I ask for a part two? What happened with s/o-chan? Her ex(not Oikawa) is dangerous? Will Oikawa discover the truth? Thanks for writing so well!

A/N: DAMN THE SEQUEL YALL BEEN WAITING FOR dabbled with a smidge of iwaizumi x reader ;)) HANA THIS IS FOR US OIK SUCKERS I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY

sequel to this

querencia. | oikawa tooru

word count: 5437

warnings: blackmail and angst! (+slight gaslighting)

(n.) a place from which one’s strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self

Iwaizumi knows Oikawa was strict when it came to volleyball. He knows how riled up he gets whenever he does solo practices. Although that focus came with Oikawa’s obliging reticence, the absence of noise was really pissing him off.

“Oikawa, let’s go, dude. We have to lock up soon or the Discipline Committee will chew us out again.”

He noticed a slight glance from the captain’s sepia pools but Oikawa Tooru kept his lips sealed. This guy… Iwaizumi grimaced. “Hey, I know you heard me. Don’t give your old lady grey hairs by coming home late all the time. Let’s go.”

“Hey, Iwa-chan, are you devoted to anything?”

Iwaizumi hid a relieved expression. At least Oikawa was finally saying something in full rather than the half-assed responses he’d been giving out the past month.

“Huh? What’re you trying to say? Of course I’m devoted. To volleyball!” Iwaizumi didn’t mean to sound angry, but looking at his best friend’s current state, he couldn’t help but to clench in frustration.

The blue and yellow ball rebounded from the polished hardwood floors into the setter’s expecting grip. “…Was it that? The problem. My ‘devotion’?”

Iwaizumi scratched the back of his neck in earnest before grabbing Oikawa’s wrist to drag him away from the fluorescent spotlight of the gym. Heaving two school bags over his shoulder with his limp friend on the other, Iwaizumi grumbled.

“I don’t get any of the shit you’re saying.”

Iwaizumi lied. He knew exactly what Oikawa was talking about.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Being in the Library Committee came with its own perks.

A peaceful workplace to drown yourself in your own thoughts

Full privilege to a lineup of all the volumes of Hirunaka no Ryuusei

Being the one and only member of the Library Committee

You had always enjoyed the tranquility that the magnificent atrium of papers offered—not a lot of people scourged for outdated reference books anyway. It was a welcoming interlude from your hectic life… Especially with your current state of affairs. But your head was stubbornly rejecting peace.

If it had been a couple months ago, Oikawa Tooru would have been sneaking into the library to avoid getting his head bashed in by Iwaizumi for being ‘too good at Old Maid’. He would have groaned and whined, subtly asking for your attention to make it all better. You would have refused, a blush betraying your response. Either way you would’ve surrendered to a single kiss after all.

The impression seemed so distant despite it being so recent.

Oikawa Tooru could find someone better than you. Someone who didn’t have this mess piled up upon their shoulders. Someone who wasn’t stupid enough to have dated an obsessive, creepy bastard.

You were so sure of the thought… but why do you keep remembering the taste of Oikawa’s lips lingering on yours? It had always suggested a hint of peaches and tropical mango juice. Flavors that had sparked fireworks in the depths of your belly.

In the end, you decided you would stop by Lawson’s after your duties to buy a mango ICE MONSTER bar. Just for the sake of the memory.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Ah. L/N-san.”

You cursed yourself to a million deaths. What on Earth did you pull to get karma this big? You were sure the constant suppression and cold shoulders from school were enough to cover for your sins against their volleyball superstar. But to encounter said superstar’s best friend at the convenience store (especially with your theatrical “baton pass” to him a month prior) was beyond your gravest punishments.

“I-Iwaizumi-san! Funny to see you here.”

“Ain’t this the only convenience store in the area though?”

God, you idiot. Just can’t keep your mouth shut, can you?

In the deserted frozen food aisle, two Aoba Johsai third years stood faced off with one another. If it were one of your younger brother’s RPG games, Iwaizumi would’ve been an impossibly matchless boss level—emanating all sorts of auras that screamed ‘INDOMITABLE’. And you? A level one player with only a wooden stick at your siege.

Crossing his arms, he huffed. “Anyway, L/N-san, I wanted to talk to you about—”

You prepared yourself for another blow like always. He was probably going to talk about that. But this time, your legs acted faster.

“Um, I have to go! Goodbye, Iwaizumi-san!”

“Huh? Hang on a sec! L/N-san!”

Iwaizumi Hajime, ace of Aoba Johsai Boys’ Volleyball Club, was chasing you. Why was he chasing you?! Your head spun with images of him cutting you up into pieces to serve for Oikawa’s breakfast, lunch and dinner. Merciless. Brutal. Vile. Was this his way of getting you back for dumping Oikawa on his shoulders?

You let out a small shriek, zipping past a bicycle parked horizontally on the sidewalk. Maybe with his large size, Iwaizumi would have to slow down a bit, giving you a chance to—

Vaulting over the bicycle, Iwaizumi only became hairs closer to your hurrying form. “Wait! L/N-san!”

“Please don’t kill me!” You sobbed, turning into a corner. “I have a family I still want to come home to!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he yelled, the hoarseness of his voice striking horror in your legs. “You didn’t pay for your ice cream!”

“Ha?!”

After dropping off 195 yen on the shop counter and dutifully bowing your head to the cashier at least ten times, Iwaizumi escorted you to the store’s entrance, the light amber of the sky gracing his stern features. For a moment, Iwaizumi Hajime, ace of Aoba Johsai Boys’ Volleyball Club, seemed like a normal high school boy instead of the terrifying column of pure muscle.

“Sorry for chasing you like that… You got the wrong idea and everything too,” he chuckled, low vibrations bobbing in his Adam’s apple.

“It was my fault too,” you cringed, head empty with only the thought of your animalistic instincts kicking in to take you away from ‘danger’. “I was just shocked that anyone would talk to me right now.”

“…Is that so… B-by the way…”

You almost forgot that you had run away just as he was about to beat you to a pulp with his words. You held your breath, feet rooted in place now that you had learned that there was no way you could beat an ace in races.

“We’re on Cleaning Duty tomorrow, right? Don’t forget and bail on me like that asshole Takahashi does.”

Gradually, you felt a World’s Biggest Idiot crown settle on your head. You breathed through your nose and muttered a sullen “yes, yes” before turning around and going your own fine way home. Of course, after apologizing once more to Iwaizumi for making him chase you distances just so you would pay for your treat.

Watching your back shrink into the golden horizon, Iwaizumi scratched his head, heart heavy with the weight your words carried. He probably shouldn’t have stalled his real question to you like that.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Becoming the enemy of Aoba Johsai’s general public didn’t seem so bad at first. At least they weren’t doing all the malicious shoujo manga-esque type of torture. No carved out voodoo dolls or vandalized tabletops.

But the thought didn’t make your sentence seem lighter.

When you had been with Oikawa, everyone suddenly wanted to get to know you. To eat lunch with you. To invite you to hangouts. Now that you’ve broken him, your only worthy punishment was to be broken tenfold.

How cowardly of me. You scowled, the contours of the broom handle etching itself on your palms. I don’t even know if half of Daisuke’s threats were real…

If the texts hadn’t sounded so genuine, you would have probably been laughing it off with Oikawa right now. But you weren’t. And that made you hate yourself for it.

“L/N-san, you okay?”

Pulled back into reality by your ever placid Cleaning Duty partner, you cleared your throat and swept the remaining bits of grime onto the fluorescent green dustpan.

“Y-yeah. I’m alright,” you said eyes flickering from his sharp ones.

Iwaizumi must’ve had some sort of sixth sense because his doubting gaze did not falter the slightest. “Really? You seem especially off today, though. You hungry or something?”

Now he was toying with you. “No I’m not.”

As if it had been cued, your stomach growled and you gritted your teeth in defeat. Stupid, stupid digestion.

“If you’re free after this, I’ll treat you to lunch. We need to talk about some unfinished matters, L/N-san.”

“But—”

“It’s about Oikawa.”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

The scent of pork and shoyu weaved into your senses, blinding you with flavor. In the midst of burly men and hearty-looking meals plastered in bold in the quaint shop’s menu, a small high school girl like you did not mingle well with her surroundings.

Sitting across from you was Iwaizumi, attention pinned on a flimsy laminated piece of paper with a list of ramen that seemed to drone on and on. In the heat of the place, both of you had shed your blazers, draping them over the back of your rickety seats. Seeing Iwaizumi’s sleeves rolled up, you shivered at the thought of what those arms could do to you if you had run away from him again.

“Master, I’ll have the Aka Tonkotsu ramen today. Large with extra pork slices as always,” he piped up, catching the brisk nod of the shop owner from the corner of his work station. “How ‘bout you, L/N-san?”

“Um… a glass of mineral water, please. Iced.”

The ramen master and Iwaizumi’s faces twisted into expressions of concern and offense. You were sure you had attracted the attention of few others too with your order… but what was so wrong with just having water though? It wasn’t like you really enjoyed ramen. And your visit here wasn’t really much of your choice…

“Come on, you have to have the ramen here. I’m paying anyway,” Iwaizumi wanted to add in a comment that the prices at this particular shop were extravagantly affordable, but he chose to miss out on that. “Do you like spicy food?”

“I suppose I do—”

Iwaizumi grinned knocking on the wooden table to gain the master’s attention once more. “Make that two large bowls of Aka Tonkotsu, Master!”

You sputtered, ears barely registering his words. “L-large? Iwaizumi-san, I won’t be able to finish that!”

“Huh? Why not though? Your stomach growled really loudly back at school, I’m sure you’ll down the entire thing in seconds. But it’d mostly be caused by how good the ramen here is.”

You noticed how the ramen master’s ears flashed a bright pink. Seriously, how blatant can this guy be with his words… You were sure with the way Iwaizumi talked, he could either have all the girls in Japan swooning over his honesty or have everyone else throwing nasty glances at him. You fell into the latter category.

“About Too—” you paused, although insistent on breaking the frosty wall between the both of you. “Oikawa. I-is he doing well?”

“Well he’s obviously acting more differently than he used to,” Iwaizumi replied in blunt, hands centered on trying to pull the modest pair of wooden chopsticks apart cleanly. Snap. A small chunk of the second chopstick had awkwardly stuck with the first; Iwaizumi frowned. “Why’re you asking? Didn’t you guys break up?”

You puffed out fumes from your nose indignantly. “Aren’t you the one who invited me here to talk about him? Iwaizumi-san, if you’re not going to say anything important I’d rather leave than have you toy with my time.”

Iwaizumi’s hand reached out to scratch his nape—an old habit you had noticed from him countlessly in class, especially when he seemed nervous. “Alright, alright. Geez… don’t tell anyone about it but I’m worried about Oikawa. Trust me, I can tell when he’s being serious about practicing volleyball and when he’s just plain… letting loose. I suspected it had something to do with you because all he’s been doing is mope around like a beaten dog after you dumped him.”

You gulped.

“Why did you break up with him? I know he could be a crappy jerk with volleyballs for brains, but I know he won’t put his ambitions over someone he cares about—he learned that from his first relationship. So why did you do it? Was he finally getting on your nerves too? Or did you get bothered by his fanclub?”

Your hands gripped your skirt until your knuckles turned white. Iwaizumi definitely wasn’t the first person to drop the question on you. But that didn’t make you less nervous whenever you had to respond. Deciding to dodge the bullet like always, you went for a simple “it’s complicated”.

“Two large bowls of Aka Tonkotsu ramen, one with extra pork slices!” the ramen master announced, a bell of dismissal to your relief. “Plus a glass of iced water for the young miss.”

Watching the master limp back to his post, you didn’t notice Iwaizumi sprinkle a dollop of chili powder into his bowl, his sharp gaze cutting through your body. “Whatever. I’ll get it out of you one way or another. You wouldn’t have told me to take care of Oikawa if it wasn’t a serious problem.”

You slipped a stray strand of hair behind your ear, picking up your own chopsticks in the process. Despite the fear that pooled in your stomach from Iwaizumi’s promise, you couldn’t help to anticipate for a person to share the heinous truth with. Murmuring a soft “thank you for the food”, you decided that the truth belonged to another day and enjoyed your meal in silence.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Apparently, Iwaizumi did see your mouth forming the request. When he had brought it up at the ramen shop, you felt your entire universe fall apart at its core. You wanted to punch yourself for even thinking up such an shameless action. Whispering to him to take care of someone he spent his life tackling was useless. Pressing your face into your pillow, you wondered if you could sleep yourself to dematerialization.

Tugging you out from your misery, your cell phone vibrated in vigor before dropping still on your bedside table.

From: Unknown

Subject: This is Iwaizumi Hajime

09:34 PM

Yo. It’s Iwaizumi, save my number ok? I hope you enjoyed the ramen. Did you get home safe?

Right. You and Iwaizumi had exchanged numbers after he had paid an amazingly cheap price for the ramen. The surprisingly succulent ramen that had you gulping down the bowl until it was drained—just like what he’d promised. You’d hate to admit he was right so soon though…

To: Iwaizumi Hajime

Re: [This is Iwaizumi Hajime]

09:36 PM

Thanks for the ramen ^_^~ Also, I got home in one piece, so don’t worry about it.

A few moments after you had pressed the send button, another text came flying into your inbox. Two texts. From two entirely different contacts. The first one was Iwaizumi’s.

From: Iwaizumi Hajime

Subject: You didn’t answer my question

09:36 PM

About our topic of discussion today… are you going to tell me the truth or not? I don’t want to pry it out of a girl, it’d be rude assuming we’ve only started to officially talk today. But just so you know, I won’t give up until I know the reason. It pisses me off to see Oikawa so moody every day. I hope you’ll understand.

Your fingers hovered over your keyboard for a few moments too long to string together a coherent reply. Iwaizumi was a prime example of trust and valour. Sure, you had considered yourself a knight after ‘protecting Oikawa from your dangerous ex-boyfriend’, but now you just seemed like a jerk.

Scrolling over to see the second text loitering in your messages, you felt your blood vessels tighten. The sender’s name was seven syllables long. Seven syllables that you had hoped to never have to thread together ever again.

From: Masayuki Daisuke

Subject: None

09:36 PM

I knew you’d listen to me, Y/N-chan~ You were always such an obedient one, such a good girl. Now that that good-for-nothing playboy has his hands off you, we can be together right? Of course, we’ll have to wait until you graduate high school but that’s just a matter of time.

We’ll get married, Y/N-chan. I’ll make you as happy as you can ever be, even if we have to elope. I’ll even buy us a house in Tokyo, just where you wanted… You made a right decision to leave Oikawa, if you didn’t, I know it’d make you suffer just being in his presence. You belong with me, Y/N-chan, not with anyone above our insignificant roles. He’d make you feel small for the rest of your life… but I’m here for you.

I hope you won’t be unfaithful to me as we count down to the days when we shall begin our lives together. I love you~

Your lips curled into a flat line. All the blood had drained from your fingertips, leaving the fluorescent light of your cell phone to eerily illuminate through the limpid skin. You wanted to vomit, to wail, to look for and tell someone. But who? You couldn’t possibly run and cry to Oikawa. Hell, Iwaizumi and your ‘friends’ were out of the question. And your parents would overreact, making matters worse.

“I hate this,” you grunted, tossing your phone onto the couch across your bed. Maybe you could sleep it off like you usually did. Alas, you didn’t seem to receive a wink of sleep at all. This is bad, you finally admitted.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Iwaizumi Hajime had made it a habit (and a nuisance) to stumble in the library or other parts of the area after school to drag you to the ramen shop and fruitlessly attempt to wring even a droplet of truth from you. On the bright side, the food was always tasty, and you had adapted yourself to genuinely enjoy ramen as a delicacy. Plus, when it came to Iwaizumi’s savory bribes, you never even had to think about pulling your wallet out of your pocket!

Throughout the course of your ‘interrogations’, you had also learned that Iwaizumi was just an awkward puppy hiding beneath a shell of a raucous yankii. Of course, this was all fueled by his concern for his best friend, but nevertheless, you discovered that it didn’t take much to revert the almighty volleyball ace into a flustered mess of a high schooler.

You came to realize why Oikawa loved to tease him to the brim. And why they had stuck together for so long. In fact, if Iwaizumi had been a girl, you were dead sure that Oikawa would pick him over you—he was everything you weren’t and so much more…

Idiot, how long has it been already? Stop thinking about things like that, you braced yourself. Slapping yourself with the leather-bound cover of a weathered Chemistry textbook, you diverted your focus back on the cart of new books you were supposed to arrange.

Quiet hours in the library was especially your favorite time, of course, until Iwaizumi had recently interrupted it with persistence despite his prior knowledge that your duties wouldn’t end until half an hour later. Another trait of his, you had come to realize, was that he was unbearably annoying when he didn’t get what he wanted.

Hearing the clack of the library door’s swing (though much quieter than Iwaizumi’s usual loud shove), you scowled, eyes twitching in annoyance.

“Iwaizumi-san, for the last time! Stop coming in here if you’re not going to read or borrow a book. And don’t ask me the same question over and over again, I can’t tell you why it happened because it’s too—”

Crap.

You felt your heart jump at the sight of a pair of umber eyes that roused an emotion from deep within your memory. You almost didn’t recognize him. He looked taller, much more sturdy. And way too drained.

“Y-Y/N-chan,” Oikawa murmured, your name dripping honey on his tongue like it always had.

You didn’t even stop yourself from calling him by his name. “Tooru…”

You swore you could lock eyes with him for eons. Subtle glances in the hallway didn’t compare to being in Oikawa’s light. When you were with him, he made you feel warm. You missed that warmth. You missed him.

“What are you doing here?” you managed to sputter, eyelids freezing up.

When he broke from your gaze, you felt your heart plummet and shatter. “I just needed to look for a reference book for my English homework.”

It hurt. When you were dating, Oikawa never let the both of you dwindle in silence. He knew silence sickened you to the stomach. When you had broken up with him, he didn’t let silence waver over him either. But having the absence of noise barricading you from him, you felt cold.

“A-ah, you must mean Ogawara-sensei’s literary task…” you murmured, drinking in the appearance of his face, tracing pre-existing etches of it in your head. “Do you want me to help you look for them?”

How stupid of you to ask. Oikawa basically had the map of the library emblazoned on the back of his hand. You would know—it all came from the secret rendezvous he’d pull you into while you still had deemed yourself worthy of being loved by him.

“That would be nice,” he smiled shyly.

You led him into a warmly lit section pulsing with the livelihood of foreign words. Gliding between the wide space between the shelves, your fingers slipped through the seams across the books. It didn’t take you more than 2 minutes to locate a volume spilled with the wisdom you needed to ace Ogawara-sensei’s class.

“William Faulkner? I thought you didn’t enjoy those kinds of works,” Oikawa murmured, almost teasing as he thumbed through the fragrant pages of ink.

Eyes tracing the lettering of ‘A Rose for Emily’, you said, “I don’t particularly dislike this one. Tragic endings aren’t my cup of tea, but the romance really sucks you in.”  

“I almost forgot how much of a shoujo otaku you were,” he chuckled, laughter like small bells tinkling in the soft wind. “You always look so serious, but figuring out that you were a sap was the funniest part.”

You puffed out your cheeks indignantly, “It’s not like I can help it! You want me to help you or not? Geez…”

Oikawa’s laughter ruptured in the great expanse, a contagious feeling bubbling in your throat. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just— it’s nice to see you again, that’s all…”

Your heart burst into streams of golden confetti, drawing universes within your chest like Oikawa used to do. He was always more different with you. Less fake, more genuine. More honest. You still hadn’t figured out why he’d go after you, especially with all the pretty girls willing to throw themselves in front of a train for him. You didn’t even have enough guts to ignore your ex-boyfriend.

All the wondering made you dizzy, you wanted to sit down, but Oikawa’s desolate eyes chained you to your spot. Iwaizumi was right. He looked like he had thrown himself across the gym a couple times before staying wide awake for 48 hours. As much as you hated to admit, you wanted to help him.

“Tooru, I’m—”

“Found you!” Both of your heads snapped towards the library entrance, blasted open haphazardly by a burly third year student.

“Iwaizumi-san!”

“Iwa-chan?”

A sly grin crept up the boy’s features, making him look more of an ogre than usual. You felt an uneasy lump dissolving in the pits of your stomach, from the corner of your eye, you spotted Oikawa slumping in what seemed to be defeat.

“Just as planned. Now, anyone hungry for ramen?”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

This was by far the most quiet meal you’ve had with Iwaizumi and Oikawa—combined and separately. You didn’t even dare to excuse yourself to the restroom. You haven’t even touched your food either, for all you knew, it was probably already cold.

On the other hand, Iwaizumi was already stuffing his face with today’s special lobster ramen. “What’s wrong, L/N? Ain’t hungry? It’s your favorite dish too.”

Your brows pointed downwards in an annoyed scowl. Iwaizumi wasn’t known to be the best at reading situations anyway. You kicked his shin below the sunken space beneath the table, taking care that Oikawa wasn’t looking.

“Right! Nearly forgot,” if Iwaizumi hadn’t been someone who towered over you, you would’ve pestered him for being such a nuisance. “I damn hope you know why you’re both here.”

You gulped, cheeks reddening at the mention.

“Sorry, is there something I should know about?” Oikawa smiled faintly, a heavy air of concern draped over his shoulders. Sweat began to clump in your palms.

“Ha? Of course you do! You’ve gotta know why L/N broke up with you, right?”

“I-Iwa-chan! I don’t think that’s appropriate to talk about right now. I know for whatever reason Y/N-chan’s got for it, it’s a respectable choice.” Liar. You know I was just being a coward for not telling you, you pursed your lips.

“It’s only respectable until we know what it is,” Iwaizumi boomed, eyes boring into your shrinking figure. “Things don’t just happen for a reason, right, L/N? It’s okay if you tell us.”

“…”

“L/N, it’s for Oikawa’s good. Didn’t you say you wanted him to be happy?”

“Stop that, man. Don’t force her,” Oikawa’s tone wavered between anguish and warning. You almost wanted to leap into his arms. He was so close, sitting right next to you, but for some reason he felt miles away. “But…”

Sucking in a deep breath, you blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. “I don’t—”

The shrill ring of your phone shattered the torrential dilemma that hung in the air. Glancing at the number, you paled to the tips of your toes, all color lost from your skin. No, no, no, no. Not here. Not now.

Throwing your school bag over your shoulder, you stood shakily, hand gripping your phone like a vice. “I-I have to go.”

Turning your back on the two boys, you quickly hurried out the door of the shop, hands too tremulous to drop a tip in the glass jar adorning the entrance. He shouldn’t be here. Why was he here? You’ve had enough. No more. Hanging around Oikawa and Iwaizumi was a deadly mistake you’d swore you’d never repeat. But you were a mere mortal who fell too easily to the temptations of forbidden love. A love you could never have.

“Y/N-chan!” a plush hand wrapped itself around your elbow, throwing you back against a solid wall of warmth. A distinct scent of peaches and mango juice pressed against the crown of your hair, a familiarity you would be forced to pry yourself from.

“Tooru, please…” a single drop escaped your quivering eyes, rolling down your cheek, clumping at your chin. “I can’t do this. You have to let me go.”

“At least tell me what I did wrong. Was I not devoted enough? Did I offend you in some way? Or did you find someone else…?” The bob of his throat wobbled against your head. “I’m sorry that I loved you. I’m sorry.”

To hell with it. Turning in his grasps, you looked into his glassy hues, shining with tears, laced with the afterglow of genuine affection. For you.

“Don’t you ever apologize for loving someone. If someone has to apologize, it’s me!” you barked at him, tears streaming down your face, hot in its trail. “I made a mistake for loving the wrong person. I’m sorry I had feelings for such a psychopath. This was before I met you. Now he’s out to get us and it’s all my fault…”

You paused, burying your face into his uniform, taking in the deep pitter patter of his heart.

“I’m scared, Tooru… He’s been sending threats to me. I don’t want him to hurt you… Please, help me,” you sobbed, ignoring the incoming echo of a lone walker approaching the scene.

“Y/N-chin?”

Dark eyes stared back at yours, emptiness filling it, only a murderous aura emanating from the figure. You watched as Daisuke’s fist closed, veins popping for the world to see. You wondered how your day could get any worse.

“Traitor! You left that bastard just to run back to him?!” he growled against the silent backdrop of the market district. “I promised you a life where you wouldn’t have to feel so inferior. I sincerely love you, Y/N. Why can’t you understand that we’re the type of people who can’t fit in with assholes like… him.”

When Oikawa stepped between the both of you, you felt your heart drop and hang dangerously on a thin string held together by your prayers. “Are you the guy who’s been threatening Y/N-chan the whole time?”

Daisuke turned to you, leering viciously. “Oh, so I’m the bad guy? Don’t do this to me, Y/N-chin. You belong with me. You know that.”

“She doesn’t belong to anyone. Leave her alone, she obviously doesn’t want to be with you.”

A quick gleam of a silver blade caught the gentle light of the setting sun and you felt your mouth go dry. Before a scream could escape your mouth, a vivid thud then a crunch thundered in your ears. You didn’t even want to open your eyes. You didn’t think you could even see with the flood of tears clustering your vision.

“Y/N-chan? Y/N-chan! It’s okay,” Tooru. “It’s okay now. I-I knocked him out.”

Wrenching your eyes wide, you saw Oikawa crouched next to you on the ground, rubbing circles onto your back as he nestled himself in your shoulder. Behind him was Daisuke. Laid spread-eagle on his back, the menacing cutter now seeming so small in his large grip. Next to his bruised head was a single volleyball shoe.

Just about the size of Oikawa’s sock-clad right foot.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

A month later

“Ain’t Captain awfully chipper lately?” Kindaichi muttered to his upperclassmen, balancing a ball on his fingertips, only to have it bounce to the floor in an instant.

Hanamaki, while unlacing the intricate knots adorning the nets, shot the first year an incredulous look. Sighing, he said, “You really haven’t heard at all, haven’t you?”

Kindaichi felt it would be too embarrassing to say. He kept quiet.

“He made up with his girlfriend recently. Turned out, she was being threatened by her psycho of an ex-boyfriend if she didn’t break up with him. The guy’s finally behind bars, so I guess that contributes to it too.”

Kindaichi’s eyes lit up. Oh, he knew about this. “I’ve seen that before on the news! Man, must be pretty scary for Oikawa-san’s girlfriend… I honestly wouldn’t be able to do anything if I were her. That’d put too much mental strain on me.”

From behind him, Matsukawa snickered, ruffling the boy’s hair casually, earning him a dirty look. “Don’t try to compare yourself to L/N-san. The tips of your haircut will catch fire if you had the same amount of stress she did.”

“Grilled Napa Cabbage!”

“Hanamaki-san, don’t tease!”

From the other side of the gym, Oikawa Tooru eyed his phone glassily, his pupils on the verge of forming hearts. It was over. It was finally over. Now he was back to his previous routine, with a dash of something new everyday. Same as always. He loved that always—that always was you.

L/N Y/N: I can’t wait to eat with you and Iwaizumi-san today! Thank you Tooru

Oikawa Tooru: Are you sure you don’t want to eat somewhere we usually do? I was a bit surprised that you invited us to the ramen shop ╮( ˘ ､ ˘ )╭

L/N Y/N: Ehhhh??? Do I have to cancel reservations? Do you want to eat somewhere else??

Oikawa Tooru: Just kidding Y/N-chan~ ☆⌒(ゝ。∂) I want to see how much red peppers you can add to your broth before passing out ☆

L/N Y/N: Mean!! ( `ε´ )

Oikawa Tooru: Ehehe~

“Oikawa, let’s go. L/N’s probably waiting for us already,” Iwaizumi called out from the gym’s doors, mouth nearly frothing at the image of free bowls of ramen that he didn’t have to pay for tonight.

Waving off his best friend, he turned to his screen to type out one last message, a soft smile adorning his face. “Happy birthday, Y/N-chan. I’ll cherish you today, tomorrow and the days after that. Thank you for loving me as me.”

[nightklok]

For the angst prompts, something about #1 says Pickles to me. Bonus points if it’s not about Nathan (I love Nickles but it’s too close to what happened in the show in this case XD).

Angst Writing Prompts [Open] 

I am deeply sorry this took so long firstly! D: It was hard to not pick Nathan or Charles for this one tbh! But I think I found someone that actually fits for this more; Skwisgaar!

1. “You say you love me. So what? You wouldn’t be the first you most certainly won’t be the last.”

Trigger warnings: Drinking/alcohol use

Skwisgaar may not look like it but he was the type of person to fall head over heels in love. And who could blame him? Love was such a wonderful and sweet feeling that made him feel a thousand times lighter and feeling so much more alive than he ever had before. It was so much better than the meaningless one-night stands he had over the years; so it made all the more worth it to drop those one night stands at the drop of a hat the moment he fell in love.

And falling in love is what ended up happening when he met Pickles, the singer for the disbanded band Snakes N’ Barrels and now the new drummer for Dethklok. 

It wasn’t fast with falling in love. No, it crept up and slowly consumed him before he could even be aware he had fallen in love with a bandmate. It was something that never happened before and while the familiar warm feelings of falling in love surfaced, there also came the uncertainty. It was unprofessional though he was never one to follow rules. Though if he said anything and Pickles quit, it meant having to go through drummer (and possibly guitarist) auditions all over again. And Pickles felt like the perfect piece to their mismatched puzzle of a band.

But when was the moment he had fallen in love with Pickles?

They were alone in the apartment they called Mordhaus for the first time. Magnus and Murderface had gone to do some side gigs to earn them extra cash. Nathan was scouring around a different town with their recently made demos in hand to hope that some venue would let them perform. That left Skwisgaar and Pickles in the apartment alone. 

Pickles was going through a can of cheap beer and trying to write some songs while Jeopardy was playing in the background. He was one of the few that could write music but also one of the many that couldn’t exactly read what he wrote. It would mean Magnus, or Murderface would have to revise what he wrote and give him additional feedback if needed. Skwisgaar couldn’t read music for the life of him; he just simply went where the music flowed.

Still, he wanted to be of some use. He approached the drummer, “Hey, Pickle.” 

“Oh, hey Skwisgaar,” Pickles looked up at him with a grin that made his heart slowly pound for whatever reason, “What’s up?” 

“Uh, just wanteds to asks whats your doings...”  He answered. He had no idea why he even bothered approaching, “Or if you wanteds somethings.”

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks, though. But I’m trying to write whatever Nate left for me. Don’t know if I’m doing a good job but it’s something.” 

“Yeah,” He looked at the sheet of music that contained all sorts of random symbols and music notes he couldn’t read. What he wouldn’t give to be able to read music at the moment, “Maybes I can helps you..if you wants...”

“Sure. Just get your guitar, wanna see if this part sounds good.” 

Skwisgaar went to his room to pick up his guitar and sat down next to him,  politely rejecting the beer offered and tuned his guitar as the other got ready.

“Okay, you remember what Nate talked about right?” Pickles asked.

“Yeah, he wanteds the songs to be fasts...rights?” 

“And heavy too,” He answered. To any other people, fast and heavy wouldn’t mean a lot or carry a whole lot of weight but to them, it sure did mean a whole lot. 

“Okay, he told me he wanted my drums to kinda follow your lead so I’m trying to learn your part to figure out my own.” 

“Can you evens plays that fast?” The words tumbled out before Skwisgaar could think. For a moment, he feared that Pickles would be offended but thankfully he laughed instead and his fears quickly diminished. He never really heard him laugh before and it was actually cute.

“I am in this band so I think I can. Why don’t you go show me how you’re planning to play?” 

Skwisgaar nodded and once he felt he was ready, began to play. It was a fast progression as Nathan had wanted, no build up to it or anything to be able to prepare an inexperienced guitar player for such swift playing. Pickles seemed unphased, concentrating on how his fingers hit each note and studying each fret and string hit similar to studying for a test.

“It’s actually really good, Skwisgaaar,” Pickles smiled at him when he finished playing, “Why don’t you play it again and I try and keep up with the drums this time?”

Pickles got the drum kit ready, adjusting and doing whatever he needed to do. With a nod, Skwisgaaar began playing. It took a moment or two before Pickles quickly began to play. It was a little too fast and rushed but by the time they got the first verse done, a steady drum beat was made. It had kept up with Skwisgaar’s in a call and response kind of way and it worked surprisingly well. By the time they finished the song, there was the adrenaline rush from a good performance.

“I should’ve asked you to help out sooner, we really did it!” Pickles grinned at him and it made Skwisgaar’s heart beat rapidly once again.

“Oh it’s no problems,” Skwisgaar managed to say with a smile of his own.

“I’m gonna get us food to celebrate; you don’t know how long I’ve been stuck with this song, dude. I really owe you one!” Maybe Pickles was too wrapped up in his own excitement but he had given him a very brief hug before grabbing his car keys and leaving to grab said food.

Skwisgaar was alone with a very flushed face, rapidly beating heart and confused feelings.

______

Okay, so he was in love with Pickles. Totally fine. Totally okay. Totally not something that will backfire if all goes wrong.

He was one to confess feelings the moment he felt them but he had a feeling that it wasn’t wise to do it on the spot. He was impulsive but he also had to use his brain. And band romances are such a tricky situation to go through.

And as he got to know Pickles better, he also realized how much pain he had gone through.

From a family that never loved him to relationships that crashed and burned, he wouldn’t be surprised if he had sworn off falling in love. He already gave a feeling that he was hurt. And so badly did he want to help him. No person should be in that much pain internally but he didn’t know how to help.

He tried to initiate more contact with him as appropriately as he could. Brushing hands against him, leaning against him during movie nights, all that subtle stuff. He knew those things were platonic and the band was surprisingly casual about that stuff around each other. Pickles luckily didn’t seem to mind but most likely took it as a platonic thing.

There was one night where he drank a bit more than usual and got a little too brave. He rested his hand on top of his and didn’t know what to expect out of it. 

And this would happen various times after that night like Pickles realized something he didn’t want to realize. Anytime Skwisgaar touched him, there was a moment of comfort, like it was something he had craved and wanted for so long. But then the moment would disappear and he would excuse himself or move himself away. It was like he had put up a wall between them and he didn’t know how to get himself out of it.

So who could blame Skwisgaar if he decided that enough was enough and he should confess? Maybe Pickles needed the reminder that someone did love him. Not someone who thought of him as a one night stand but someone who had lived with him, gotten to know him, and fell in love with who he was as a person rather than idealized image people may have of him?

It must’ve been close to a year and Skwisgaar never stopped falling in love with him. He wanted him to know. He wanted him to know that he was who he thought about when he woke up or went to bed, how he fantasized kissing him or holding him close until they fall asleep. He wanted to kiss him and do all those lovey-dovey couple things that would never grow old. He just wanted to make him feel loved.

They were alone in the apartment once again but this time for the night. Nathan had gone to a family reunion, Magnus was going on some road trip with some friends and Murderface was spending the night with his old bandmates as it was their reunion or something. 

Skwisgaar asked Pickles if he wanted to watch a movie with him. And Pickles thankfully agreed. They sat on the couch of the living room, watching some horror movie that was on cable but neither were really paying attention. There were drinks and a box of pizza that sat half empty.

‘Hey, Pickle?”

“Yeah?” 

He had to say it. He just had to. It was now or never, “I ams in loves with you.” 

There was silence for the longest time before an answer was made that made his stomach churn, “How much did the guys bet you?” Was all Pickles said with a laugh drier than the wine he was drinking.

“Wha-no-I never tolds anyones! I’m serious!” 

“Skwisgaar, it’s a very funny joke but not really. Just drop it.” His voice turned bitter as he looked at him with confusion, hurt, and anger.

“I ams not. I reallies, reallies, do,” Skwisgaar said quickly, “I haves been in loves with you for a longs times.”

“Oh, really? Why?” 

“I...just ams! You’re talenteds and good lookings and nice to mes, it just happeneds!” 

“Dude, you’re not in love with me. Besides, you got other people to be with, no?” 

“No, I never evens had peoples over to fuck. Have you ever noticed me bringings in someones over for the nights?”

Pickles had to pause and realized that it was true. Skwisgaar hadn’t brought over anyone in such a long time. It still didn’t help words from coming out like he was convincing himself that it couldn’t be true, “How many times do you think people have said those things to me? So what if you said you love me? You wouldn’t be the first and you won’t be the last.” 

“What ams you so afraids of?” Skwisgaar had to ask.

“Me? I’m afraid of nothing, you just don’t know who you’re saying that stuff too.” The lights may have been off but it was easy to see the shine of tear streaks against his cheeks from the glow of the TV.

“...I don’t wants to hurts you, Pickle. Please.” Skwisgaar said and placed a hand on top of his. When Pickles didn’t pull away, he continued, “I...knows that it mights be difficults but you don’t haves to do anythings if you don’t wants to. It’s okays if you don’t haves feelings for me...Just wanteds you to knows.” 

For that moment, he could truly feel what Pickles must’ve felt. The fear of falling in love and the fear of heartbreak. He must’ve never known the feeling of falling in love and feeling like the world was just right for once. Their faces were close now. Skwisgaar reached a hand to touch the side of his face to gently pull him closer. He paused every so often to give the other a chance to back away or tell him to stop. He only moved forward when he felt him move closer to him until their lips touched.

It was soft and light but eventually turned deeper. The taste of wine and vodka was apparent but it didn’t bother either of them. There was warmth and a spark and it felt like falling in love for the first time. And it felt so, so, right to kiss each other.

And for that reason, Pickles pulled away. He didn’t even meet him in the eyes, his face flushed but seemed to be going through all sorts of emotions, “I-uh-gotta go. See you later.”

Skwisgaar watched as Pickles left before giving him a chance to speak. His own face felt flushed and he was probably running through the same emotions as well. It felt like they were just going somewhere, finally going a few steps forward, but now everything crashed back and they were probably back to square one.

Maybe other people would give up at this point. And maybe it was what Pickles expected; after all, any other person would label him a lost cause and move on to someone more worth their time. But to Skwisgaar, he was worth the wait for so much and more. He knew that there was something and he knew the other felt the same. He just had to go about this in a manner that would reassure him that he wasn’t going to give up on him and he wasn’t going to hurt him.

Despite the feeling of heartbreak, he still was in love with him. And he was determined to prove it to him no matter what.

[angrylizardjacket]

too old to trick or treat (too young to die) // charlotte&lola (penny&jupiter)

Summary: Two Halloween costumes Tommy witnesses the creation of, twenty years apart. His cousin’s, and her daughter’s.

A/N: 4001 words. knocked this out in literally 3 hours. okay so The Road Warrior didn’t come out until December of ‘81, and Supergirl didn’t come out until ‘84, but whatever, the timeline has been massaged for a number of reasons, bare with me, suspend your disbelief abt halloween costumes. ANYWAYS this came to me very suddenly and i had to write it. i’ve had enough angst, so have cute charlie & penny halloween moments now instead please and thank you. @misscharlottelee as always owns my heart w/ her characters. also mild sexual references in the first part bcos of mishearing something/misunderstanding a situation.

[ part of the charlotte&lola au of Run to Paradise ]

----

In 1981, Tommy dresses as Mad Max for Halloween; all pulled back hair, and a truly awful attempt at an Australian accent. He’s even butchered a leather jacket he’d found second-hand, much to the rest of the household’s horror. He’s pretty proud, despite Mick telling him to shut up since Tommy refuses to stop using the accent. 

Mick’s not wearing a costume, and isn’t going out with the rest of the band and the girls, he’s only here to give his opinions on their costumes, and drink with them until they leave. 

Nikki’s made no secret of the fact that he’s going as that guy from A Clockwork Orange, which, okay, is actually surprisingly subdued for his usual going out attire, and Vince would not shut up about the all-white suit he bought to be John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. Something about both Vince and Nikki in all white makes Tommy think everyone’s going to ask if they’re both the same character, regardless of their various accessories, and they’re both going to be mad as all hell by the end of the night; if he had to hazard a guess, Tommy’s pretty sure he’s going to find it incredibly funny, and Nikki’s going to chase him down The Strip for laughing.

Lola’s had her hair in rollers all day, and came home the other week with a legally obtained, sparkly, black, singlet, which was kind of a big deal when Lola either lives in the bands’ clothes, or steals herself pants that actually fit. Her actual costume, however, is escaping him, right up until Tommy walks into the bathroom, to see Lola, in said singlet, black underwear, and nothing else, sitting patiently while Charlotte diligently applied dark eyeshadow further up lola’s brow than he’d been expecting.

“Frank N Furter?” Tommy asked, pleased and amused, still in his attempt at an Australian accent. Both Charlotte and Lola made a face at that, but Lola confirmed after a beat, lips overdrawn, shiny, a deep berry red. The idea that Lola had ever seen Rocky Horror Picture Show in cinemas enough to dress up as it’s main character was a strangely humanizing idea for the often-seemingly feral roadie. 

After a moment, however, Tommy takes in his cousin’s attire; she looks incredibly pretty, of course Charlie’s naturally pretty, but she’d gone out of her way to highlight it tonight. White dress, little tiara atop her head, makeup understated and still somehow glamorous, her hair’s still dark from where she and Lola had died it a few weeks ago in the wake of her split with Duff. Maybe they’d re-dyed it.

“You look pretty, Charlie, who are you meant to be?”

“You know you sound British, right, not Australian?” Charlotte doesn’t look up from where she’s working on Lola’s face.

“Shut up, you don’t even know anyone British,” Tommy counters, nose in the air, “and you haven’t even seen Mad Max, so shut it, you don’t know what an Australian accent sounds like.” And he’s haughty for all of a minute before he’s coming back with, “but seriously, who are you?” 

A wicked grin spreads across his cousin’s lips.

“That’s for me to know -”

“- us to know.” Lola corrects quickly.

“Us to know,” Charlotte agrees, “and you to find out.”

Super ominous. Charlotte’s been cagey about her Halloween costume since they’d decided to hit The Strip on Halloween as a group. Usually, Charlotte’s overflowing with excitement about her costume, back in high school, she’d roped him, Vince, and a few of their friends into being the Scooby Gang. She’s been various animals, movie characters, and last year, she’d spent almost a month putting together a truly gorgeous Cinderella costume. For all that she was detailed about her costumes, he’d always known her to play it safe.

But this year she’s been quiet. It’s unusual. Tommy blames Lola entirely.

The girls allow Tommy to stay in the bathroom until Lola’s face is done, and then, instead of leaving, they both demand he get out, closing the door after him, giggling conspiratorially like teenagers. 

“What’s their problem?” Nikki asks, attempting to apply eyeliner, though the only reflective surface he had was Mick’s sunglasses, and Mick looked about ready to throw him through a window for getting so close, and so Tommy moves on instinct, snatching the stub of an eyeliner pencil from Nikki’s grip, beckoning him out of Mick’s personal space.

“Not sure; they’re either hooking up, or plotting to kill us,” Tommy muses, trying his hardest to not poke Nikki in the eye. 

“Hot?” Nikki sounds like he’s not quite sure about that sentiment himself.

They can hear Lola and Charlotte talking in low voices, indistinctly in the bathroom, and clattering, and then - Take off your fucking heels! - Charlie, loud and nervous, followed by some begrudging grumbling from Lola. Scuffling, more clattering, and grunting.

“They’re definitely hooking up,” Nikki mutters. Tommy’s turning red. He’s not a prude, Christ, not even close, but... Charlie wouldn’t... right? Not when she knew how thin the walls were... Not with Lola, surely!

“Let go of me, I don’t need you to steady me -!” Lola now, and Nikki’s stepping back, laughing at the look on Tommy’s face. He’s not quite sure how he feels about the idea of him and his cousin both having -

“You’re shaking, you’re going to drop it!” 

What?

Silence, a few more indistinct, now muttered words, far quieter, far calmer, then - a loud, strange rush of liquid, like the shower being turned on, but much more immediate and shorter. 

“Holy shit, dude!” Lola’s yell radiates through the whole house, followed by a loud clatter, like something empty being dropped on the tiles, and Charlotte’s response is too quiet to hear. It’s followed by what is distinctly the sound of the hair dryer, and by now, all three men in the living room are just confused. 

Vince finally surfaces from his and Tommy’s room almost ten minutes later, hair appropriately slicked back, white suit impeccable, making a beeline for the fridge, equally confused.

“What the fuck is happening in there?” He asks, joining the other three, currently cutting up lines of coke on a plate, in the living room.

“I still think they’re hooking up,” Nikki says, frowning down, as if the intensity of his gaze will keep his hand from shaking where he’s trying to cut the coke. 

“Wishful thinking,” Mick grumbles, sitting back and taking a long sip of his vodka.

“Pretty sure lesbian sex doesn’t involve hairdryers,” Vince has to agree, and Tommy’s frown deepens.

“They’re not -”

“Fuckin’ semantics, man, sex without guys, you know what I meant,” he headed Tommy’s protests off before he could properly speak them, and Tommy’s own frown deepened. Mick looks like he wants to protest, but also knows all three men far to well to have any illusions about the abhorrent range of pornography they had consumed. 

The hair dryer turns off.

“You wouldn’t have half a fuckin’ clue about what real lesbian sex was like,” is what Mick chooses, instead, to say, and Vince flips him off, right as the bathroom door bursts open, and Lola, comically wide-eyed, stumbles out, what looks like blood splattered on her shins and thighs, high heels in one hand.

“Holy shit,” she’s gasping, laughing, disbelieving, “you guys are not fucking ready for this,” she’s looking altogether like a delighted Frank N Furter about to reveal and revel in her latest creation. The guys are so caught up in seeing Lola in her costume, that seeing Charlotte coming out after her is like being hit by a train.

She’s covered in blood. Head to toe, apart from her face, which she must have been covering with her hands. Bright right. Face serious and eyes wide and Tommy knows that expression, that look, that blood -

“Carrie!” He exclaims, “Fucking Hell, Charlie!” He announces at the top of his lungs, and Charlotte’s expression cracks to a bright smile, to delight at being recognized. 

“It’s paint!” Charlotte announces, giving a spin, and suddenly the hairdryer, the chatter, the confusion made sense. 

“Charlotte, you look fucking killer,” Nikki’s got a look in his eyes that reads as both intimidated and turned on, a look usually reserved for Lola, but Charlotte doesn’t seem to notice.

“Peach and Eileen are going to fucking scream,” Lola was absolutely delighted at this prospect, doing a line of coke when Nikki offered it, before pulling on her heels. 

Charlotte is beaming, looking cool as hell, and delighted with how the whole costume turned out. 

Only later that night will any of the boys discover the murder-scene the girls had left behind in the bathtub in their excitement to hit The Strip. Tommy feels like he’ll never get the image of the blood splattered tub out of his mind.

Which is why he finds it so baffling that he’s blindsided by it exactly twenty one years later.

In 2002, Charlotte’s daughter, Penny, now all of twenty years old, the exact age Charlie had been that iconic Halloween, and Tommy’s kid, Jupiter, eighteen and a half, the pair raised practically as siblings, had been marathoning mostly-trashy horror movies all through the month of October in anticipation for the night itself, and Johnny Hudson’s Halloween party. 

Jupiter had announced their intention to dress as Nancy from The Craft for the third year in a row, which ties it with the costume they’d chosen for the three years prior to that, which was Eric Draven, the main character from The Crow.

“Yes, it’s because I have a thing for Fairuza Balk in that movie,” Jupiter had announced defiantly when they’d made their intentions known at a dinner that Lola fortunately had time enough to attend, in between tours.

“That’s how I picked all my Halloween costumes at your age,” Lola had admitted with a shrug, though that just made Tommy frown as he goes to take a sip of his drink -

“Tim Curry as Frank N Furter -?”

“Lola did you go as Frank N Furter one Halloween?” Penny, delighted at the concept, leans forward over her pasta, eyes alight with mirth at the idea, looking so much like her mother that it almost stings. Lola herself has gone red, trying to suppress a smile.

“Tom, that’s not a discussion I want to have right now, but yes,” she says, slight warning in her voice, and Tommy chokes on his drink, both because he doesn’t quite know what she means by that, and because it’s rare for her to call him Tom, but then she’s looking up at Penny, smiling enough that it creases by her eyes, “and yes,” she deliberates, before adding, “I’m pretty sure that was the year your Auntie Eileen surprised everyone and dressed up as Uncle Mick, top hat and all,” Lola said, voice warm and fond at the memory, “he had no clue how to take it, shocked him enough that he actually came out on the town with us; I think it’ll always surprise him when people think he’d be a cool Halloween costume.” And she looks to Jupiter at that, while Jupiter themselves made direct and unwavering eye contact with their own pasta, while Penny nudged them, voice turning teasing, picking up on Lola’s cue, gently ribbing her cousin about the time they’d dressed up as Mick for Halloween, if only to spite the rest of their family. 

The conversation moves on, and Tommy thinks fondly of the memory of how bright Charlotte’s smile had been after she’d come out of their bathroom, looking as thought she was covered in blood. 

So this year, Tommy’s hit with a strange sense of deja vu in the lead up to Halloween, with Penny being cagey, and obviously in cahoots with his own child.

“Looking badass, as always,” Tommy grins, showing off his cheap, vampire fangs, as he leans in the doorway of his kid’s bedroom. Penny’s applying lip-gloss atop their black lipstick, but gives pauses as they both turn to him, scrutinizing his party-store vampire costume. With his own kids going away for the night, Tommy had been more than happy to host a Halloween party of his own for friends still in the business.

“I feel like you used to put more effort in,” Jupiter says slowly, looking from the too-small, satin cape, back to his face, and Tommy shrugs.

“I guess I could always put on one of my old eighties stage costumes,” he muses, playing like he’s seriously considering it, acting as though he couldn’t see Jupiter and Penny’s expressions both turn horrified, “I’ve still got them somewhere in the back of my closet -”

“Oh Jesus, dad,” Jupiter hisses, “you know we all know too much about how Lola felt about that weird fetish shit you guys would wear on stage, please don’t -”

“It’s not fetish shit, Jup,” but Tommy’s grinning at how embarrassed they both were, “it’s hair metal, it was hip!”

“It’s a red and black leather harness at best, and tights; I’ve seen more conservative outfits at a BDSM dungeon -”

“Dude!” Penny’s eyebrows shot up, and Tommy’s mouth dropped open. Penny, horrified, looked to her uncle; “it was one time-” she says, trying to make things better, but doing the exact opposite right as Jupiter tries to tell him it was a joke. Penny and Jupiter look to each other, both horrified at what the other had said, how it must look.

“Pen!”

“It was Johnny’s idea!” Penny blurted out, and looked to Tommy, as if realising she was digging herself deeper, “we went there as a joke!”

“That part is true,” Jupiter conceded, but Tommy kept his mouth shut, raising his hands in surrender, as if to say ‘that’s your business, as adults, but I’d rather not know’, and he’s quick to leave them to their mutual, horrified bickering. 

He hadn’t even thought to ask what Penny was going as. All he knows is that she and Jupiter had been arguing because ‘it’s a trashy movie, Pen’ - ‘I love it, so shut up; you get witch powers from being an angry loner, I get them from being prom queen’ - ‘did we even watch the same movie? That’s not -” - “then just picture the original, you liked the original!’ - ‘oh, I’m past the movie itself, it’s the - they’re both angry loners, Pen,’ - ‘yeah, okay yeah, but it’s a cool aesthetic, Jup, come on -’. That was a few weeks ago, Tommy still isn’t quite sure what it could be, beyond witchy powers. Usually Penny’s costumes were straightforward, or she’d at the very least announce them in advanced...

Tommy finds himself blaming his own, erratic and mischievous child entirely; just as Lola had been known to be a bad influence on Charlie, so too could their children mirror this dynamic almost uncannily. 

It only gets stranger when, an hour after doing Jupiter’s makeup, they both seem to be in full costume, and should be ready to go, they’re nowhere to be found, but they haven’t said goodbye.

Penny comes rushing past Tommy in a whirlwind, carrying something bulky in her arms, making a beeline for the downstairs guest bathroom.

“Pen, whaddya got there?” Tommy calls out, and Penny stops dead. She’s in a pretty, white dress, with her hair all done up, and a tiara sitting on top. It’s... familiar. 

“Glue?” Penny’s obvious lie has Tommy frowning.

“Glue?” He asks, with a huff of disbelieving laughter. When she swivels towards him, he can see that she’s holding a large, white, pourable bottle, the label of which, Penny is conveniently covering. 

“We’re sniffing it?”

“Penny, what the fuck?” Jupiter calls from the bathroom, and Penny takes off at a run, avoiding Tommy’s further questions, and Tommy himself, who, with a sudden nervousness at whatever the real situation was, follows quickly. All he can see is large, clear plastic sheets covering every single surface and every wall, like the lair of a murderer in a movie, and then Jupiter’s face with all it’s dark makeup and sprayed up hair, as they’re apologizing, and slamming the door in his face. He’s pretty sure he read the word blood on somewhere on the bottle that Penny had put down.

“Jupiter Carlotta Lee, I’ve told you before that we don’t fuck with real witchcraft!” Tommy jiggled the handle, but the door was firmly locked, “not after what happened with Nikki and Lita!”

“It’s not witchcraft!” Jupiter calls back, and Tommy can hear Penny groan about how he’s still going to kill them.

“Don’t murder your fuckin’ cousin in there, you hear me?” He jiggles the door handle again, harder this time, not quite sure of what was happening in there, but concerned nonetheless. 

“Hey!” Penny shouts back, “why do you think I’m the one getting murdered in here?”

“I was addressing both of you,” Tommy sighed, leaning his forehead against the door, defeated, “what are you doing? What’s so bad that you have to keep me locked out?”

“I’ll tell you when we’re done -”

“Jupiter!”

“It’s messy,” Jupiter explained, and followed it up with a quiet, “okay, get in the bath, take off your shoes,” clearly not aimed at Tommy, before yelling back to him, “I’d rather do it, clean it up, and then beg for forgiveness in that order before you decide whether or not you want to murder us.” 

“Are you sure it’s safe to stand up there?” Comes Penny’s soft question to her cousin, followed by a phrase burned into the back of Tommy’s mind, somehow still there after everything it’s been through.

“Let go of me, I don’t need you to steady me -” 

And everything clicks into place, the blood, the outfit, the mess -

“Are you pouring fake blood on your cousin right now?!” Tommy’s tone is disbelieving, and he’s met with silence, and then the slow sound of liquid being poured.

“No?” Penny calls back, before spluttering a little, “it’s in my mouth.” She hisses.

“Then close your mouth!” Jupiter hisses back.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Pennylope; Jup?” Tommy squeezes his eyes shut as he remembers exactly how much scrubbing he and the rest of the occupants of the Motley House had to do over the next week, and even then the bathroom was never quite the same. 

But he’s met with silence, and then he starts to hear what can only be the excess fake blood dripping into the tub. And then the sound of a much emptier bottle being put on the bench.

“No, I am not currently pouring fake blood on my cousin,” Jupiter announces; Tommy thinks he can feel a headache forming with each moment that passes. There are moments exactly like this one, in which he is reminded that Jupiter is without a doubt his and Lola’s kid, which is both a blessing and a curse.

“Penny, stay in the tub,” he calls, “make sure you wash your feet off once you’re dry; a hairdryer helps it dry faster.”

Despite their confusion at how he would know such a thing, the pair in the bathroom know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Tommy, for his part, breathes a sigh of relief; this, at least, he knew how to handle. At least they put more thought into it than Charlotte and Lola had back in the day. 

Heading upstairs while they let the fake blood dry, he finds the photo Lola had dug up from her archives in her and Nikki’s garage. 

Eileen, Charlotte, Lola, and Peach, all in a row outside the Starwood, all grinning from ear to ear. Eileen as Mick, Lola as Frank N Furter, Peach as Supergirl, and Charlotte, beaming, covered in blood red paint, as Carrie.

By the time he resurfaces from the wave of memories that had overwhelmed him, Tommy gets downstairs to see the guest bathroom door open.

“How messy is it?” He calls, concerned. Jupiter sticks their head out. The hairdryer is still going. 

“Not as bad as I thought, should all just wash down the drain; the plastic on the walls was probably overkill,” they admit, and Tommy gives a thin-lipped grin, remembering the splatter that came up to knee height on the walls by the bathtub in the Motley House. Though, to be fair, Lola was simply pouring an entire bucket of thinned house-paint over Charlotte’s head - it was neither Lola nor Charlotte’s brightest idea, in hindsight - Jupiter, with a bottle of screen-grade fake blood from the looks of it, would have a much more controlled pour. 

And Penny would definitely have a much easier time getting it off.

When Tommy sees Penny, it’s like looking into a window from the past, the way she’s beaming, pleased and bright and covered in blood, she looks so proud to be horrifying.

“What now?” Penny asks, fond but exasperated, and Tommy snaps out of his thoughts, “what exactly about this,” she gestures to her whole self, blood soaked and standing in the tub, being hairdryed by Jupiter, “reminds you of mom?”

“What do you mean?” Tommy asks, playing dumb, and Penny’s expression softens, but she still rolls her eyes, arms out while Jupiter dries her.

“You get a look in your eye when I do something that reminds you too much of mom, and yeah it’s sweet, but this specifically is a really weird thing to get emotional -”

“This is your mom on Halloween, nineteen-eighty-one,” Tommy holds out the photo so she wouldn’t have to touch it, incase the blood on her hands was still wet, interrupting his niece.

“Oh,” Penny’s voice is so quiet, “for real?” She asks, eyes wide and misty when she looks at Tommy, and he gives a fondly amused look, and nod in response. “I didn’t even know,” Penny gave a quiet, disbelieving laugh, her own gaze turning adoring as she takes in the photo once more. 

Jupiter twists to look at the photo, still drying Penny, then looks in the mirror, then back at the photo, and scowls, but keeps quiet about how they’ve just realized, at least in terms of makeup and overall pallet, how similar their costume is to their mother’s. But they’re well aware that this isn’t their moment.

“Did Lola own pants?” Jupiter does mutter, more to themselves than expecting a response, and not getting one anyhow.

“Lola poured a bucket of red paint over her head in the apartment we shared, took five of us a full week to clean it all up after,” Tommy explained to Penny, smiling.

“No wonder you were worried about us doing the same thing,” Penny snorted, and leans in, looking at her mother’s smiling face; almost the same face she sees in the mirror, if not for the blue of her eyes.

“Yeah, but I should have known you two would be smarter about it, much as I love your mom, Jup, when we were young, she wasn’t exactly known for her common sense,” and as Tommy says it, even the quietly resentful Jupiter cracks a smile. 

“She looked so cool,” Penny muses, “they all do; that’s Aunt Eileen and Peach, right? The other two?” And Tommy confirms as much, also making sure to note that all four women were always better at Halloween than the rest of the band; in a move that Tommy’s seen Charlotte do a thousand times, Penny rolls her eyes, smirks, and says ‘yeah, obviously’ all smug and amused.

Tommy just smiles, asks if he can take a photo once Penny’s all dry, reminds them to call Lola and Nikki if they need a lift home, and waves goodbye to them when their taxi arrives.

The minute the taxi is off the property, Tommy’s cracking open a beer, and dialing Lola’s number in the minutes before his own guests are due to arrive.

“Lols, you’re never gonna fuckin’ believe what just happened.”

[kneel-begyourpardon]

Imagination

Pairing: Loki x reader

Summary: Your childhood nightmare has returned.

Warning: horror? angst? talking about nightmares. (honestly, I don’t even know. please tell me.)

Prompt: Slenderman ( A dude who stalks and scares the shit out of people. Especially children.)

A/n: After two months I’m back and thank you @waiting4inspiration for hosting this amazing writing challenge. It sparked some inspiration and you have no idea how happy I am that I’m finally back. See I waited for inspiration and I got it from you. 

This is definitely part of your imagination. He is not real. He is not here. You have been over this. This is all part of your silly mind. 

You take a sharp breath but the feeling of being watched isn't going away and all you want to do is open your eyes but you know, once you see him you won't be able to sleep for a while.

You knew talking about him was a bad idea. But it was the truth or dare and he is your biggest fear. What were you supposed to do? Not answer it. 

Well, that does sound smart, but you were sitting with a God of lies, so being dishonest was not an option. Every time someone lied he would call them out like a little snitch and make them tell the truth by threatening them that he would look into their mind.

You really didn't want to go down that path. Even if he couldn't mess with your head, you weren't taking that risk. So when Steve asked what your biggest fear was- because he's too shy to ask any dirty questions- you took a quick glance at Loki and answered him with full honesty.

Coming to think of it, the decision you made was foolish and you definitely brought this upon yourself. You should have been more careful. What if he wants to play the old tricks? What if he brings back the memories? Would you be able to handle them one more time? 

You weren't sure. Last time you almost went crazy. And this time you were sure it would be a lot worse.

You frown at your train of thoughts as you wish someone was by your side, just to take your mind off him. But you are alone in your dark room facing your childhood nightmare. Technically, not all alone. He is in the room with you. You know that for sure. He is just waiting for you to open your eyes. To see his featureless face. To smile at you even though he doesn't have a mouth. To mess with your head. To make you fear of yourself.

It makes you want to cry and you feel his satisfaction brought by your fear. He enjoys your struggle. He loves how hard you try to keep him out of your mind. Since you were a child. You would keep your eyes shut at all cost. Shaking from fear as your restrains kept you from running away.  For hours you would listen to the sound of him. Flinch every time you felt something but keep your eyes closed. Until he got bored and made you open them against your will.

You know he's not going to let you sleep so might as well get over it and at least see if he's as scary as you remember. You are supposed to be an avenger. Not afraid of anything except yourself and your actions. It's embarrassing how scared you are of a thing you can easily kill- or not.

You slowly open your eyes and there he is. Standing in the shadows. Tall and thin as you remember. The room is too dark for you to see his face but you know he's wearing all black.

A step forward and you're ready to jump at your feet. As many times as you tell yourself not to be afraid. To grab a knife and stab him to death, you can't bring yourself to move.  Instead, here you are cowering like five years old in your mother's basement, tied to your bed as if you haven't fought with aliens before. What was so terrifying about him?!

He takes a few steps and it looks like he's not even touching the ground. His feet hover above your carpet as he nears you. Your breaths come out fast and rapid as you wait for him to make another move. 

He stands next to your bed and your heart is going to explode. His deeps your mattress by putting his knee on your right and you're ready to scream as he bends down and familiar green eyes stare down at you with clear amusement.

It takes you a minute to realize what's going on. Still shaken up. Your brows furrow and your lips parted and Loki can swear it's the most adorable look he has ever seen. But the cute look is gone in mere seconds and is replaced by your infamous glare. Your nostrils flare and you're ready to kill him on the spot. His smirk not helping his situation.

God, you should have known it was him. After all, slenderman doesn't really exist. It was just your horrible childhood that messed things up in your head. Made you imagine some weird-ass dude who scared the living hell out of you.

The slenderman isn't real but that description fits perfectly to a man smiling down at you. You sigh burying your face in your hands. The emotional rollercoaster you just went on really took all of your energy. And as much as you want to peel Loki's face off, you can't even find the power to stand up. The adrenaline somehow worked opposite and it reminded you of the times when you were a kid and your man of death visited you, taking all your energy before playing tricks with your mind. 

The memories came back and it made you shiver. You would have started crying if you weren't this tired.

You look at Loki again. And his smirk is gone. He's frowning down at you, a hint of shame and guilt in his eyes. He expected everything yelling, punching even killing but not silence. He really didn't think it would leave you this upset. He steps back and uncomfortably rubs the back of his neck. 

"Um..I."

"Just leave Loki." You cut him off before he can even finish his sentence. And the pain in his eyes would make you feel sorry if it was some other scenario. You would even tease him how silvertongue was at a loss for words but you really couldn't bring yourself to do anything.

You watch as the light in God's eyes die down. He hangs his head and makes his way out of your room. He does stop before he leaves, looks back at you and for a second you think and part of you does hope he stays but he just opens his mouth but no words come out. He silently shakes his head as he closes the door and you lie back down.

The feeling of uneasiness doesn't leave at all. If anything it worsens. You lie awake for hours. Your body acts asleep. Breaths even. Limbs not moving. Mind blank but you know that you're awake. You're looking at something.

Something you don't recognize. But he recognizes you. The anger of breaking your little secret lies deep inside him. The fury for talking about him with your friends and that puny god imitating him.

He's furious and he's going to make you pay for it. He comes out of the shadows. The familiar smile engraved itself in your brain one more time as his hands touch your forehead and you know this is the end of your sanity. And it’s all Loki’s fault.

tags: @simsadventures​ @percyjackson886​

[nothingbutfangirlsmut]

The Girl Out of Time

Pairing: Bucky x Reader and Sam x Reader

Background: Willow Roffe was born and raised in Brooklyn. She lived her life as happily as she could with her two childhood best friends Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers. When they both left her to join the military she tried to continue with life but that didn't get to happen for her for the simple fact that she meant something to James Buchanan Barnes.

Rating: Story will be overall MATURE but not every chapter. There will be strong language, talk of both mental and physical abuse, some good ole angst, and smut. There will be a warning at the beginning of the chapter when it includes smut.

Chapter 27

After we were cuffed they put James in a large truck by himself. The four of us were put inside a van. I sat next to Sam with T’Challa and Steve in front of us. My knee bounced as I chewed on my lip. What were they going to do to James? They would kill him for the smallest reason.

"So, you like cats?" Sam asked T’Challa.

"Sam" Steve warned.

"What? Dude shows up dressed like a cat, you don't wanna know more?" Sam asked him.

"Your suit... it's vibranium?" Steve asked the king.

T’Challa slowly turned his head to look at my friend. It was like he was studying him for a few seconds before he looked forwards again.

"The Black Panther has been the protector of Wakanda for generations. A mantle, passed from warrior to warrior. And now, because your friend murdered my father I also wear the mantle of King. So, I ask you as both warrior and King, how long do you think you can keep your friend safe from me?"

A shiver ran down my spine. He spoke slowly punctuating everything he said. He made sure we all knew exactly what he was saying. It was a threat. Even though I'm a super soldier I was still nervous with this guy.

When the van came to a stop we were unchained then let out of the van. The first thing I noticed was the glass prison they had strapped James into. There had to be something we could do to help him. I followed Steve over to Sharon who was standing with an unknown shorter man.

"What's gonna happen to him?" Steve asked.

"Same thing that ought to happen to you. Psychological evaluation and extradition." The man said.

"This is Everett Ross. Deputy Task Force Commander." Sharon informed us.

"What about a lawyer?" Steve asked Everett.

The man chuckled dryly.

"Lawyer. That's funny." He told Steve then turned away.

"See their weapons are placed in lock up. We'll write you a receipt." He added.

"I better not look out the window and see anybody flying around in that." Sam warned stepping forward.

I grabbed his arm stopping him from doing anything stupid. I glanced back at James who was already looking at me. I have to help him. Sam grabbed my hand wrapping his fingers with mine. He tugged gently pulling my attention back to him and away from James. I let Sam pull me with him as we followed the group into the actual building.

"You'll be provided with an office instead of a cell. Now, do me a favor, stay in it?" Everett said from his place next to T’Challa.

"I don't intend on going anywhere." T’Challa said in a slow determined voice.

Nat appeared next to Steve as we walked. She definitely looked irritated.

"For the record, this is what making things worse looks like." She said quietly.

"He's alive" Steve said simply.

I had to agree with Steve's simple point. If we didn't interfere James would most definitely be dead. Neither of us could have lived with that guilt. With that loss. Not for the second time.

We entered what looked like a command room with a few offices surrounded by glass walls. I could hear Tony speaking loudly as soon as we entered.

"Colonel Rhodes is supervising cleanup." Tony said into his phone.

"Try not to break anything while we fix this." Nat told us then walked away.

"Consequences? You bet there'll be consequences. Obviously you can quote me on that, because I just said it. Anything else? Thanks you, sir." Tony hung up the phone then stepped towards Nat.

"Consequences?" Steve asked him.

"Secretary Ross wants you three prosecuted. Had to give him something." Tony shrugged.

Steve sighed.

"I'm not getting that shield back, am I?" Steve asked.

I think we all already knew the answer to that.

"Technically, it's the government's property. Wings, too." Nat said over her shoulder.

I was silently glad I had nothing for them to take from me.

"That's cold" Sam said.

"Warmer than jail." Tony retorted.

Tony pulled Steve to the side while Sam and I were shown to our "office". Once we were closed inside we couldn't hear a thing going on outside the glass walls. We both sat down at the table.

"How you doing?" Sam asked softly.

"I've been better." I told him honestly.

"You worried about him?" He asked.

"Of course I am. I can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. Something bad is going to happen." I explained.

"I think all the bad already happened Will." He said quietly.

"No, no, this is something else. Something to do with James." I shook my head.

Sam sighed.

"You saw what he is locked in. I think he's the safest out of all of us right now." Sam said in a bitter tone.

I stood from my seat just as Steve walked into the room.

“I know you’re not happy about this situation but I can’t change it. My past with James is important. I know you don’t like it but please just try to understand.” I told him softly.

Steve walked to the end of the room to watch out the glass. He was staring at all the monitors that a group had started to form in front of.

“They’re about to do Bucky’s evaluation.” Steve said crossing his arms over his chest.

“So we get to watch it?” I asked coming to stand next to him.

“No. The sound is cut off in here. All we can do is stare at those monitors.” Steve said bitterly.

I stood next to my beat friend as the monitors on the other side of the glass showed James still strapped in to the glass cell. A desk sat a few feet in front of him where a man sat down with papers in his hands.

The door to the room opened as Sharon walked inside. She closed the door behind her then stepped over to Sam.

“The receipt for your gear.” She said handing him a piece of paper.

“Bird costume? Come on.” Sam said in irritation.

“I didn’t write it.” Sharon sounded exasperated.

She walked to the end of the table then glanced around the room. She quickly pushed a button on the device on the table. The small screen next to Steve lit up showing us Bucky.

“I’m not here to judge you. I just want to ask you a few questions. Do you know where you are, James?” The man asked in a thick accent.

James just stared at him.

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, James.” He said softly.

“My name is Bucky.” James told him.

Steve turned away from the TV to stand next to the table. I kept my eyes on the screen.

“Why would the task force release this photo to begin with?” Steve asked from behind me.

“Get the word out, involve as many eyes as we can?” Sharon said like a question.

I kept my eyes on Bucky but listened to the conversation behind me.

“Right. It’s a good way to flush a guy out of hiding. Set off a bomb. Get your picture taken. Get seven billion people looking for the Winter Soldier.” Steve explained.

“You’re saying someone framed him to find him?” Sharon asked in disbelief.

“Steve, we looked for the guy for two years and found nothing.” Sam said flatly.

“We didn’t bomb the UN.” I said turning around to face them.

“That turns a lot of heads.” Steve added.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t guarantee that whoever framed him would get him. It guarantees that we would.” Sharon said.

Sharon, Steve, and I all shared the same look the next second.

“Yeah” Steve breathed out.

Somethings wrong. Somethings not right at all.

“Tell me, Bucky. You’ve seen a great deal, haven’t you?” The man asked Bucky bringing my attention back to the screen.

Something about this situation is wrong.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” James said through clenched teeth.

“You fear that if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. Don’t worry. We only have to talk about one.” The man’s voice turned sinister.

A chill went down my spine. It’s him. That man is what’s wrong. Before I could say anything the power went out leaving us all standing in darkness. The feed to James cut off.

“Steve” I said in complete fear.

“Sub-level five, east wing.” Sharon said quickly.

Without hesitation the three of us took off as fast as we could. We had to get to Bucky. I had to get to him.

—