#edit: no longer feeling fine there is a needle in my arm :/

[daz4i]

at an emergency medical thingie BUT! the guy at the reception had naruto pins holding his name tag in place, so i'm feeling fine.

[britishchick09]

my wisdom teeth are out! here's the tale before i forget thanks to the little loopy juice...

i had to sign my initials on a lot of lines and my name on a paper in a little room. the younger lady went over everything and i could almost feel the sedation working it's magic because i was so nervous! :o

in the operating room, i lay down on a long cold chair with a blanket underneath and on me. both were very soft! the younger lady was in the room. she put on a big blue bib (like the ones you get for cleanings but apron-like) and wrapped a blood pressure thing on my left arm and a little plastic finger thing. i could feel my arm and finger's heartbeat (like in 'elf'!).

then the dentist and assistant came in and asked if i was feeling ok. of course i was silent because i was nervous af but they said it would be fine.

i had a little white mask on my nose that relaxed me. i breathed as deeply as possible so i could get it over with (and i had to keep my mouth closed), but it still took some time to start getting sleepy. the scent was kind of like bubble gum but it was relaxing! my lips tingled first and then my arms/the finger heartbeat numbed once the dentist put the iv in with a wrappy thing and some cold stuff (i didn't look at it because that would be even scarier!). it was put in twice because i clenched the first time, but the second was easier thanks to my numb arm.the needle felt very poky! a flu shot but a tad longer (and less pleasant with bruises afterwards)

i felt numb and a little sleepy but my eyes were open probably the whole time. the dentist and ladies said i'd do ok as they looked over me and i relaxed. they were so nice! :)

the dentist took out the new iv and one lady gave reassurance as she put two red cotton swabs on the sides of my mouth. that helped me feel no teeth pulling at all! i just heard the dentists say dental jargon.

i focused on the queen song playing as the light shone over my head. it was a little hard to focus on it at first, but i kept my eyes on the center, which helped me think of other things like my stories (and typing this experience out). i didn't see what the dentists were doing or feel my numb mouth open! it went by fairly fast for me (probably 20ish minutes, but the pulling took an hour! :o

(edit: i was at the dentist's office for an hour in total and the pulling took around 20-30 minutes so i was right!)

i was gauzed, wheeled out and typed this all out in the car. i feel ok besides besides the gauze in my numb mouth making it's hard to talk, there's a dry mouth swallow that's moistened up at home, numb thicc lips, a lessening numb tongue, a poke where the iv bandage is, slightly heavy walking and too many typos to count! no crazy loopy gal here! ;)

so if you're worried about getting your wisdom teeth out, that's perfectly ok! it's a different experience for everyone (some are super confused, others have a lot of pain after and there are so many videos with people saying stupid stuff, so it's nerve wracking to hear other experiences!), but i hope this makes you feel better about the doom :)

[beelzegrub]

can I request what would happen if we summon them while we're on human realm bc we missed them so much but lose so much blood in the process I don't really know I'm a sucker for these kind of things. thank youu!!

EDIT FROM FUTURE OP: This ask has been sitting in my drafts for months half finished and I finally found the motivation to finish. Anon, I’m so sorry for the wait. You’re a sweetheart ❤️ I was only able to do the three eldest though and I’m so sorry!!

Um hello??? I love this so much thank you!!! I thought it was kind of silly to go through all of that at the end of season 2 to just.... not use it so I’m excited about this!!!! (Sorry if this is too angsty my brain got super pumped about this and took off.

PS the request said “we” so I used a reader insert type of style. Hope that’s what you were looking for :)

MC Summons Their Demon, but at What cost?

Trigger warning!!!! Self harm/blood

How long had it been since you’d seen the him? Weeks? Months? Who knows. They all blended together after while. All you knew is that it had been too long. Why was this all so tedious? Solomon had promised to teach you the summoning ritual as soon as you could handle it. Why hadn’t he done so? Did he not trust you? Was he purposely keeping you away from the them? Surely you were strong enough at this point. Enough with the waiting. You wouldn’t sit around and any longer! You needed to see them. You needed to see him.

You flipped messily through book after book. Solomon had given you many to study for your apprenticeship. There had to be something about summoning in one of these!

“Hmm..”

You carefully read through the worn pages of one of the larger and dustier tomes. Something about this one called to you. You zoned out as you took in the information on the pages, following context clues until you found what you were looking for. The images drawn on the page seemed foreign and surprised you. A summoning circle? You had expected as much, but the repeated mentions of ‘sacrifice’ and ‘blood oath’ seemed ancient and outdated. You couldn’t help but notice there was no mention of sentimental possessions of the demon you were trying to summon as well. You were sure none of the brothers would suggest a summoning if it were dangerous though...

Out of options and out of patience, you gathered your courage and set up the ritual to the best of your ability. Things seemed to match the books instructions, at least. All that was left was the blood. You stepped into the middle of the circle and closed brought a sewing needle to the top of your finger. The book hadn’t specified the amount of blood needed, but it was better to start small, you reasoned. You closed your eyes and pricked it, quickly squeezing a single drop of blood into the center of the circle, and said the name of the person you had been desperate to see.

Lucifer

The day of the summoning, Lucifer had felt this nagging sense of danger from the moment he opened his eyes. He was so sure it was one of his brothers about to cause trouble for him once again.

Lucifer spent the day preparing for the worst. Had Mammon stolen something of vast importance? Did Levi buy another piece of cursed media? Surely Beel hadn’t eaten a poisonous dish??

That evening, tired from being on edge all day, he had retired to his study, hoping some music would help calm his nerves. He settled into his chair and closed his eyes.

Then came the pull.

It had been ages since he had felt a sensation like this. When was the last time someone had tried to summon him? Hundreds of years ago, it had to be. And it never felt as strong as this force pulling him now.

There had once been a cult of devil worshipers who sacrificed many of their members for a chance to pull him to the human world, quite surprised to find out their sacrifices had been in vain, considering Lucifer wasn’t interested in a bunch of worthless humans. But even then the tug hadn’t been this strong. Sure, he could still resist it, but the strength of it still left him awestruck. Who had the power to call to him like this?

“Lucifer!”

His blood ran cold. Immediately, he stopped resisting the call and gave in, allowing the summoning to take place.

You had done it. Lucifer was here! The strongest and most fearsome of the seven, and you had Summoned him to you. Your heart swelled when you though of how impressed he’d be when he found out you had done it all on your own. Would he praise you? Would he tease you? Would he tilt his head and smirk, then ask you if you had really missed him that much?

You smiled softly, looking up at him. The look on his face wasn’t one of pride. His eyebrows had furrowed and a frown creased deep into his face. Was he angry at you? No... you had seen his anger many times. This wasn’t it.

“MC....what have you done?”

He cradled you softly in his arms. Wait. When had he picked you up? You looked at your surroundings, the fear in the pit of your stomach ever growing. Where had all this blood come from? You had only pricked your finger! Lucifer’s hand touched your cheek, pulling your face back to him.

“Don’t look.”

You had no choice but to obey. You simply didn’t have the strength to move anymore.

“I’ve called for help, it’ll be just a moment, MC. Just keep your eyes on me.”

Lucifer’s voice was soft and soothing, and you felt your tired body relax into his hold.

“I did it... I brought you here... I did it...” you closed your eyes, a smile on your lips.

“MC, keep your eyes open. Look at me. MC! MC!”

Mammon

That day had started out much the same as always. Mammon, still sore from last nights punishment, groaned as he slumped into his desk at RAD. He rested his head in his arms against the desk, and glanced at the seat that used to belong to you. Obviously, you weren’t there, but it didn’t hurt to check....

“MC is still in the human world, Mammon.” 

Mammon jumped and sat up straight in his seat, his cheeks red from being caught.

“I know that Belphie! I was just-just uh zonin’ out! MC’s old seat just happened to be in the same direction!” He stuttered out an excuse. 

“Just call them, Mammon. I’m sure MC would be happy to hear your voice.”  Oh great, now Beel’s getting involved too. He knew his brothers meant no harm, but all this talk about MC was getting him riled up!

“Fine! I will! I’ll call MC tonight! and you two AREN’T invited!” Mammon laid his head down once again, this time hiding his face, not wanting his blush to show a second time. Tonight he’d finally hear MC’s voice again. And he could blame Beel and Belphie for the call!

 Come dinner time, Mammon had just about run out of patience. His head kept telling him to wait just a bit longer, but something in his heart was yelling for him to quit dragging his feet. 

“I’m going to my room and NOBODY better interrupt me, ya hear?!” Mammon stumbled to his feet and started marching to his room, six pairs of eyes staring at him questioningly. He only made it a few steps when he felt it. A tug. He closed his eyes and swayed on his feet, dizzy from the force of it. This was a summoning, wasn’t it? He had felt it plenty of times from those damn witches, but something about this was different. He turned around to look his brothers again, a look of confusion on his face.

“I...think I’m bein’ summoned.”

Levi snorted and crossed his arms. “I’m sure you’re guilty of something. Better just get it over with.”

The rest of the brothers mumbled in agreement.

Except Lucifer.

Lucifer quickly pushed out his chair and hurried to Mammon. Something was wrong. A simple summoning wouldn’t have this effect on a demon of Mammon’s stature. 

The pull came once again, stronger this time. Mammon winced and held his hand to his aching head. Lucifer’s hand came down to rest on his shoulder

 “I don’t know how long I can resist this. Somethin’ isn’t right. Lucifer, what’s happening to me?” He looked to his brother for help, and found the rest of them had gathered around as well, a look of concern on all of their faces. 

“Someone call for Diavolo and Barbatos. Mammon, hold on just a few more moments.” Lucifer commanded. 

Mammon would have agreed, if not for the voice that rang out clearly in his head, calling his name. 

“Mammon!”

Mammon’s eyes snapped open and stopped resisting the pull, hearing the shouts from his brothers disappear as he followed the call.

“Mammon! Mammon! Mammon Mammon Mammon! Please!” You couldn’t keep this up for much longer, you knew it. You had fallen to your knees moments after the initial call. You could feel every drop of blood flowing out of the pin prick on your finger, but you didn’t dare give up. You had come this far, and you wouldn’t give up now. Not until you had to.

But you didn’t have to. A flash of light blinded you momentarily, and when you could see again, there he was. Standing there was the Mammon. Relief flushed through your entire body, and you stopped pouring your magic into the spell. Utterly exhausted, your body came crashing forward, landing in front of his feet.

Mammon quickly slid to his knees on the ground, picking you up off the floor and resting your head in his lap.

“You....Are you okay, MC?” Mammon tried to keep his voice even and steady, not wanting to scare you, but his hands that held too tightly and his body that quivered gave him away. 

“I am now.” You answered quietly, unsure if it was true. At least Mammon was here and holding you in his arms. Things would be okay as long as he was with you. 

“You...You idiot! Stupid! What the heck were ya thinkin’!? Can’t you see how much blood you’ve lost? This isn’t how you’re supposed to be summoning us! I’m gonna kill that damn sorcerer!” Mammon felt his blood boil with each second that passed. How Could Solomon have allowed this?

You softly squeezed his hand, not having the energy to yell for his attention. Immediately, he stopped, looking at you questioningly. 

“Solomon didn’t teach me this. He wouldn’t. But.... I just couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to see you.” You answered.

He frowned deeply, more troubled with this answer. You had done all this just to see him? He felt a lump in his throat form. “I would have come to you. You didn’t have to do this.” He pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes to stop any tears from escaping. 

You cupped his cheek, returning the affection he so rarely showed. “S’okay. All that matters is you’re here now. I just...need....to rest....a little...” Your eyes fluttered closed, feeling at peace and calm in your love’s arms. 

Panic. Once again, Mammon’s eyes snapped open. He placed his hand over yours, trying to gently coax you into opening your eyes once more. 

“Not yet, you can’t yet, MC. We have to wait for help to come. Come on, wake up.” He knew his brothers would come. Someone would come. They wouldn’t let this happen to you. He wouldn’t let this happen to you. “MC!” When gentle touches didn’t work, he got rougher, shaking you and yelling, desperate to see your eyes open.

“Enough playin’ around MC! Wake up! WAKE UP, DAMMIT! Wake... Wake up...You have to..... Wake up....”

Leviathan

To say that Levi was missing his MC was like saying humans like air. Is it true? Yeah, but kind of an understatement. Humans needed air to live and breathe, and in his eyes, you were air. It’s no secret that Levi wasn’t exactly popular. One might even say it was well known that he was a dorky loner demon, if they were feeling particularly sassy. Being a loner has it’s advantages, like having more time for gaming and anime binging, but it sure is, well, a lonely once you’ve had someone to share your passions with. And once that someone is gone, their absence weighs heavy.

So yes, Levi was missing MC. So what? Everyone was missing MC. Why wouldn’t they? His MC was a ray of sunshine in a world of darkness. Ugh. That line sounder way cooler when the hero in his latest otome had said it. Of course his thoughts couldn’t sound that cool. But that’s not the point! Levi figured he had no right to complain about MC being gone, because he was just a gross, annoying, worthless otaku. He didn’t deserve to miss them. He was lucky he got to spend as much time with them as he did, really. 

But nobody could blame him for thinking these thoughts, right? Thinking about how much he missed the way MC would cram themselves as close to him as possible to get a look at whatever mobile game he was playing was harmless. So was remembering all the nights they’d spent binging anime and then realizing the sun was up, smiling sheepishly at each other and promising not to stay up so late next time, even though they always did. Okay, so maybe  thinking about the way they looked when they were fresh out of his shower, smelling of his soap and shampoo was less than innocent, but what was he supposed to do!? Leaning your damp head on his shoulder and curling up close to him like that! Doing things like that is bad for an otaku’s heart! You might give them hope or something...

Enough was enough! He didn’t have time to be obsessing over how much he missed MC. It was taking time away from his one and only true love. “Ruri-Chan, you’d never abandon me right? No, I know you wouldn’t. You’re not like that.” Levi began speaking to his latest figure. “Not to say MC IS like that! No, of course their not! They didn’t have a choice!” He stuttered out a quick fix to his hurtful words. He was glad they weren’t around to hear, but it still felt wrong to say. He was quiet for a minute, staring at his floor in shame. Slowly, he lifted his eyes back to the figure. “Do you think they miss me like I miss them?”

And then he felt it. It had been so long, but he knew this feeling.This was a summoning, wasn’t it?! Based on the intense tug he felt, it had to be a super powerful sorcerer or maybe a group of basic magic users? Honestly, he was flattered. Someone wanted to summon HIM? No, They must have made a mistake. Surely this summon was meant for one of his brothers.

Leviathan was so lost in his own self pity he missed the first two calls of his name. The third one, sounding so desperate and pleading, snapped him out of his funk in an instant. He knew that voice. Without hesitation he let the summon take him, and there he was. He was finally reunited with MC.

But it wasn’t supposed to be like this. When he finally saw them again, he was supposed to feel elated and whole again, not like a piece of his heart was ripped right out of his chest. But when he locked eyes with them, surrounded by blood and their eyes looking glassy, that’s exactly what he felt.

“MC! Oh no. Oh no.”

Levi. He was here. He had to be. You heard his voice and felt his presence, felt his arms circle around you and cradle you tightly against his chest. But why couldn’t you see him? And why did you feel so… empty?

“Levi? That’s you isn’t it? Why is it so dark?” Had the candles all gone out? No, even before you lit them, you remember it hadn’t been this dark. Something was wrong.

Levi inhaled shakily, holding back the sobs he desperately wanted to release. “MC, what are you talking about? I’m right here! Can’t you see me?”

Like a bolt of lighting, the realization hit you. It wasn’t dark. The candles hadn’t gone out. It was your eyes.

“No, Levi. I can’t. I can’t see you. I can’t see anything.” You shakily reach your hand up, frantically feeling around for your love’s face. Leviathan’s usual timid nature word have normally had him reeling away, but in this moment, he had no reservations as he helped guide your hand to his cheek. His lips trembled as he fought the urge to scream.

“MC…. Why would you do this? You’ve lost so much blood… and.. and your sight? I’m not worth this. I’m just a useless otaku! It isn’t fair!” His tears began to flow, the guilt of it all was ripping him apart.

You closed your eyes and smiled as you remembered the many faces of this man you had called to you. “It was worth it. I did it because I love you, Levi. I need you. After all, what good is a Henry without his lord?”

[operation-619]

What if the reader is an alien that has the same power as superman and stronger than Homelander? The reader works at the Vought and doesn't know the corruption in it until Butcher told the truth. Homelander acts soft on her when they see each other, and Homelander was still confused about his feelings and put his ego shit first. I kinda wanna see Homelander battling the reader when she was trying to protect Ryan and Butcher while Maeve hasn’t arrived yet. She will make him bleed.

Even the strongest man Bleeds.

Edited 17-01-21

Homelander x Alien! Reader

Warning: mentions of blood, language, mentions of death and murder. Violence read at your own risk. 

Bold italics- inner dialogue, Bold- the past. 

WC - 3.1k

Masterlist

“The compound V is what makes them, supes. It’s not real and the golden boy, your Homelander, is the most corrupt motherfucker I have ever met. We need your help (Y/N). Please?” his voice was hoarse, the stress in his words were leaking onto his face. She could see the worry on his face, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe the men in front of her.

“You’re lying to me. Billy Butcher, you have a lot of nerve coming here, you and your gang are mortal enemies to Homelander right now. It’s not safe.” The muscular black man scoffed at her statement and leaned back against the seat. He seemed relaxed but his eyes constantly sweeping the place told (Y/N) otherwise.

“I swear, come back with me and I will show you everything. Please?” his eyes crinkled at the sides as he pulled his face into what looked like a poor attempt at a pleading face. (Y/N)’s mouth was just forming the word ‘NO’ when the man called Mother’s Milk chuckled and leaned forward.

He whispered, “he doesn’t ever say please,” and stood up from the booth and walked out of the café. Her mind was racing, weighing the pros and cons of her current situation. She considered whether or not they were just baiting her into a trap, but she was confident that she could make her way out of it. But it isn’t everyday that two men come waltzing into her favourite café, sit themselves down like they own the place and cough up a semi-convincing story about the corruption at Vought.

“Fuck it,” she whispered under her breathe, “fine I’ll come, it’s good to go out your comfort zone once in a while.” The smile on her face made Billy look at her with confusion painted on his rugged features. She stood, and gestured Butcher to show her the way, “just so you know, I don’t believe you at all.”

(Y/N) replayed her past movement in her head carefully over and over again, and yet she still could not believe how naïve she truly was. But here she is sat in a car that smells like Old Spice, waiting for Frenchie to get the speakers ready. She threw her head back against the headrest and released a shaky breath; everything she believed and knew had been a lie to her. Including John. ‘Oh dear god John, what have you done?’ Her thoughts were getting too loud, they were screaming at her asking how she could’ve been so stupid to not know.

‘How could you not know?’

‘It was right in front of your face you idiot’

‘Your really are a cunt!’

(Y/N) squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her temples, the stress of all the sudden information was taking a toll on the woman. Whimpering under her breath, she opened the car door and inhaled the cold air. Closing the car door, she leaned against it and watched as the group of friends conversed amongst themselves. The plan was to set off the sonic device and John to go over and destroy the source, and when he does Billy and Becca will drive and get Ryan. She still didn’t know why she was needed, (Y/N) was still processing the information she was given 48 hours ago.

“Okay, 15 minutes and everything will be all set,” the French accent let her know who was talking, but she wasn’t paying that much attention when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck arise.

“Get in the cars!” she whispered harshly, her arms waving about ushering the people back into the cars. (Y/N)’s breath shallowed once everyone was in their respected cars, she creeped forward and looked upwards, watching as the uncovered Nazi zoomed by. She vividly remembered the moment she had met that woman. (Y/N) never trusted that woman, something about the way her heart leaped when an opportunity to hurt someone arose. (Y/N) also didn’t like the way John was towards her, all bark, and no bite- vulnerable.

(Y/N) had never seen John so vulnerable around anyone except her.

The metallic taste in the air is what told (Y/N) that Stormfront had just flown by, the hair on the back of her neck relaxed and so did her posture. Walking over to Butcher, she waited until he rolled down his window before she spoke; “She’s seen the leaked news, my guess is she is going back to Vaught to see what caused that, fiasco.” She heard another window come down, not doubt Frenchie and the others.

“Was she alone?” without turning around she nodded. (Y/N)’s tongue ran across the bottom of her teeth before she turned around and faced the two cars, the cars holding the people that brought the truth to her naïve and simplistic eyes. “What exactly am I doing here? Because, you have the weapons, metaphorical and physical to defeat them. So please, tell me why I am here?” her eye followed the movements of the human bodies getting out of the cars. She could see the look on Becca’s face, and she didn’t like it.

“We’re gonna use ya.” Her (E/C) eyes shot towards MM, he stood there tall and domineering, with his hands on his hips. “Starlight, or Annie told us how soft Homelander is on you. And if things go south, you are our pawn.” (Y/N)’s hearts faltered.

“You humans are so pathetic. I mean, I am old. Older than all of you put together, so I have seen shit that no one can imagine. But the one thing that never changes is the utter stupidity of you homo-sapiens, the selfishness and carnage that I have experienced puts my species to shame.” (Y/N) paced back and forth, her anger evident as black veins started to appear under her (E/C) eyes.

“(Y/N). Please, MM didn’t mean it like that,”

“I did. I did mean it exactly how I said it Becca,” (Y/N) stalked the movement of the vigilante group. Her hearing was being drowned by the loudness of her beating hearts. She watched as Becca stepped forwards and stopped right in front of her.

“My son, who was conceived in the most- my son is in there. I don’t know if you have had children before. But I am not going anywhere until I have my boy in my arms. So please, help me.” (Y/N) flinched when she felt warm hands placed onto her cold shoulders, echoes of her past resonating inside her head. She now understood the look on Becca’s face, the look of a mother- a childless mother that no longer understands their purpose in life. Because she was one.

“Okay, but I want this on my terms.”

The little boy was screaming when (Y/N) landed behind John, crying for his mommy to wake up. She looked around, seeing the two women laying lifeless. She was too late to save them. The metallic taste in the air was getting stronger the closer she walked towards the pandemonium. The woman that confided in her mere moments ago, now lay with blood flowing out the cut in her neck. She watched as Butcher tried to stop the bleeding his white hands now crimson. His whole body covered in blood, soaking him to his soul.

Turning her head, (Y/N) saw John knelt next to Stormfront or what is left of her. The burnt woman mumbling in what sounded like German. “Ryan- ‘her attention went from the barbequed supe to John, ‘did you do this?”

“He didn’t mean to John,” she watched his whole-body flinch at the sound of her voice, she was happy to see his face finally, to get some sort of justification. But the feeling that shot through her body was the complete opposite, the look in his eyes reminded her of herself, and she didn’t like it.

“What are you doing here, I thought you left?” he surged forward and cupped her face, (Y/N) placed her hand on his chest and the other on his hand. She closed her eyes and inhaled her John deeply. “(Y/N), you have no idea, I. I don’t understand.” The beating of his heart grounded her for a moment, everything around them disappeared for a moment as the two of them were caught in their own bubble. But (Y/N) knew the bubble had to be popped. And she had the sharpest needle to do it with.

“John, what happened on the plane.” She was met with silence, the hands gripped her face harder, but her eyes still remained closed. “You left them all to die, didn’t you?”

“I did not leave them to die, I tried to save them. You know this (Y/N), why are you asking me this.” His mouth was talking but his heart told her the truth. Releasing a soft sigh, (Y/N) stepped back from John and finally opened her eyes. The bubble burst when his blue eyes met pitch black, her pupils had flooded the white out leaving a demonic presence behind, the black veins appeared all over her body pulsing violently.

“I know everything John, you have been lying to me. I trusted you, and you know that.” He started to mutter words that didn’t make sense to her, his hands anchored in his hair. (Y/N) watched as the great Homelander fell apart right in front of her, Earths favourite and mightiest hero crumbled under the pressure of words.

“Now let them go John. Please?” when his blue eyes met hers, the look rivalled hell itself. His jaw twitched, tongue pocking out to lick his bottom lip. He never broke eye contact with her, his eyes tracked her like predator to prey.  (Y/N) moved cautiously, never turning her back to John. Once she was stationed in front of Butcher and the kid, she placed her right arm out and behind her. (Y/N)’s ears were ringing, the power surging through her was immense and yet she felt weak. Weak, it wasn’t a word her species spoke, and she never heard of such a word until she came to earth. Vulnerable, weak, powerless, helpless, defenceless, and fragile; all these words are now part of her vocabulary, and she was feeling every single one of them as she looked at the man she had come to love.

(Y/N) had given him not just one but both of her hearts. He was the first person that offered her his hand when the rest of this new world beat her down with their harsh words, he taught her how the ways of her new life, he was her new life. (Y/N) may have been a celestial being, but she knew when something wasn’t right. At first, she thought John was just trapping her, the distance – although not physical – was fluctuating between then constantly; first John welcomed her with open arms, then he kept her at arms-length when they got too close and then the cycle repeated.

But through all the shit he had put her through, she was still there for him. until now.

“We are going to leave, and you will never trouble them again.” Her vision was sharp as she watched the wrecked man in front of her chose the option she hoped he wouldn’t.

“You know I can’t do that, he’s my son.” And with that he charged towards them, eyes red with hunger and rage. His path changed when he felt a fist connect with his cheek, sending him flying into a tree. His world spun, staggering up onto his feet he made eye contact with the shell of the woman he loves. Her black eyes reminded him of a starless night, an abyss that was forbidden to travel.

Something cold dripped onto his lip, and out of instinct his tongue licked it away, he thought nothing of it until the unfamiliar taste of blood slithered its way down his throat. His naked hand came up and delicately touched his nose, he hissed in pain when his calloused hand touch it, retracting his hand he look in bewilderment at the blood sat there taunting him on his hand.

“You broke my nose,” his voice was meagre but loud enough for her to hear the vulnerability in it.

She turned to Butcher and the child hurriedly telling them , “get away from here, quickly,” and before she could turn back around, she was pinned to the muddy floor. Her face caked in the mixture of blood and dirt; she could feel John’s breath on her neck. Without a second thought she flung her head back and used the distraction to spin around and wrap her hand around the heroes throat. (Y/N) paid no mind to the thoughts pounding in her head, she wasn’t about to let them stop her from – whatever she thought she was doing.

“(Y/N) … (Y/N). please.” the air around them froze, she wanted answers but standing here with her hand around the nations saviour’s throat was not the way she needed to get them. “You lied to me John, the one person who promised to never lie to me. You betrayed my trust.” She threw him to the ground.

“You had me working for monsters. They never helped people!” the wind started to pick up around them, her (Y/H/C) hair danced ferociously around her face, a face that was covered in black veins pulsating in rage. (Y/N)’s head snapped to the right when she heard a twig snap, her vision was met with Butcher and the kid watching her in astonishment and fear. The kid was hiding behind Butcher, just his head poking out watching (Y/N) beat up his father. And god did he look like John. 

(Y/N)’s body moved before she could even realise what was happening, her left hand came up to stop the blow coming her way and then she knelt down, using John’s momentum against him, she throw him over her shoulder. But the outcome wasn’t in her favour as he managed to land on his feet. And then he was charging at her. Punches were thrown and bodied flung everywhere, (Y/N) couldn’t bring herself to kill John, but it felt good to hurt him.

 “He’s my son (Y/N). He needs me!” his words were met with a foot to his chest.

 “No one need you John, not after what you did,” her elbow jabbed into his stomach, causing his arms to release her waist, she looked at his body lying pathetically on the forest floor. Americas strongest man, the embodiment of patriotism and pride had fallen to his knees.

 “(Y/N), you have and always will need me’, his blue eye sparkled with malicious intent, ‘no one wanted a freak roaming our home, but because I stood by your side, they welcomed you. But the moment I’m gone. You will be nothing. But a monster to the people you love so much.” Blood came flying out of his mouth as he spat his words at her. His armour had crumbled and all he had left was his words.

 “Stop” the alien smiled at the hero on his knees, her eyes only moved off his body when she felt a presence next to her. John started to get up, but (Y/N) swiftly moved forward, wrapping her arm around his neck, and gripping his hair with her free hand. She forced him to stay down, on his knees.

 Maeve came into sight, moving cautiously like she was afraid he would brake from his bond. She stopped when she was right in front of the disgraced hero. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” (Y/N) could feel John shaking in her grip. The two looked at each other in silence for a while, their eye contact unbreakable. (Y/N) spared a glance at Butcher, who was still stood in the same place.

 “You’re going to let them go,” the man in question scoffed but immediately fell silent when (Y/N) tightened her grip on his hair. He cleared his throat, moving subtlety before answering the Queen. 

“And if I don’t?” his ego spoke louder than the words coming out of his mouth, he was confident that everything was going his way. Both Maeve and (Y/N) knew that. But the moment Maeve held up the recording of the plane (Y/N) could physically feel The Homelander admitting defeat. The cries of the passengers echoed through her head, along with the bullshit lie the man in her arms fed her. ‘there was nothing we could do, the terrorist had too much control I tried to save them (Y/N). I tried.’

“You’re going to stop hunting Starlight, you’re going to leave me and Elena alone. Or I release this.” there was no room for argument, and he knew that. But he had to open his mouth. “If you do that, I’ll destroy everything and everyone.” (Y/N)’s grip tightened, she dragged his head backward and brought her lips to his bloody ear. Her voice was cold, no hint of vulnerability, no hint of emotion. 

She could feel his bones quaking under her arm as she tightened her hold on the man she had come to love. The man that made everything feel less painful, the man that she called a true friend. But standing here in the middle of a forest with two dead women, a sobbing child and a emotionless man; she realised that what her people said about the human race was true. And John had proven that to her. It took everything in (Y/N) not to simply break his neck but she wanted him to hurt. 

She wanted him to bleed.

 So, she looked up at Maeve and signalled her to get the two boys out of here, she wanted to be alone with him. she willed herself to calm down, she knew she wasn’t in the right headframe to talk to John because if she did so now, his head would be lying two feet way from his body. So, she whispered to the man calmly, hearts no longer racing with hatred or fear. She let the venom in her voice speak for itself as she whispered to Homelander. But she let man she loved hear the pain in her voice, because the man she was holding was not her John, her John had died the moment Butcher and Mother’s Milk sat down across from her in the café. However, (Y/N) had comfort as she let the ten simple words leave her mouth, because she knows that no matter how much Compound V is pumping through his body. Even the Strongest man bleeds.

 “If you do that Homelander, I will make you bleed.”

|=|=|

Hello beautiful people, I hope you enjoyed my little piece, feel free to leave comments about what you liked and didn’t like, I’m okay with a bit of constructive criticism I believe it will help me get better, and if you want anything else.

[harryhandstan]

gotta get better

gif credit

This concept has been in my head for a while now and it took me like a month to write and edit and just get it all out! I had surgery two years ago today and it was one of the most emotional, stressful experiences of my life simply bc I’m just a big baby lol. This is just something to celebrate that day and the fact that I’m still so happy it’s all over! Fluffy af as usual cause that’s all I know how to write. :)

Thankful to @bfharry​ and @bopbopstyles​ for not only inspiring me with their amazing writing but pushing me towards finishing this and reaching (even going over) my personal 5k goal! I appreciate you both so much!!

I recently saw a post about tagging triggers properly so I’m gonna do it that way but if I do it wrong or it doesn’t work PLEASE let me know and I will fix it immediately (just want to be sure all my bases are covered)

// needles tw, pills tw (prescription), anxiety tw // (if I missed anything I should’ve tagged please please let me know!!) and I’m sure there are some medical inaccuracies bc that whole day is kind of a blur for me haha 

as always likes/rbs/comments are welcome but absolutely not necessary :) 

final word count: 7.1k

//

"Y'nervous, angel?"

"Hmm?"

"Bout to chew your finger off. I know there can't be much of a nail left."

Your hand drops back to your lap. You hadn't even realized you were doing it. A bad habit of the nervous child you thought you'd long forgotten. He offers his left hand and you accept it, thumb swiping over the cross painted across his skin. He knows it's one of your favorites and you're thankful for the comfort. You don't know how many times he'd teased you about how you would eventually rub it off one day and he'd have to get it redone.

"S'a routine surgery, I bet they do them all day. You're gonna be fine."

You'd been over all this a thousand times before. Harry had to ban you from looking up the procedure online at one point. You became obsessive with worry. What if you're still awake when they cut into you and you can't talk? What if you feel everything and can't tell anyone? What if you don't wake up? He had shot down every one of your horrifying theories.

"How much longer before they take me back?"

"Nurse said it would be about 10 minutes when we checked in. Shouldn't be too much longer. Want me to check the board again?"

Checking in had only consisted of a nurse taking your name and giving you your bracelet for the day with an ID number. The number would help Harry stay updated on where you were throughout the whole process. The "board" was simply a tv mounted to the wall that frequently cycled through each patient's last name and ID number.

"No, no," You cling to his sleeve like a desperate child, "Don't leave again. She said they wouldn't update anything until I went back anyway."

Harry had left you only briefly when you first arrived. Hands in his pockets, wandering around like a lost child around the big, open expanse of the waiting room. He stayed where you could see him and the whole time you had anxiously chewed your bottom lip until he returned. You hated it, but you knew he was just as nervous as you. So you let him have that moment. To check his surroundings and release some of the nerves so he could come back to you, calm and cool as always.

When the nurse does call your name, you almost jump out of your skin. You freeze, unable to move. Harry stands and flashes the nurse a quick smile before turning back to you and offering his hand.

You shake your head, "I can't do this, H. I feel like I'm gonna throw up if I move."

"You're not, promise. Remember those breathing exercises we practiced? Do those. C'mon..deep breath in. Pause. Slowly let it out. Do it while we walk."

Slow deep breath in. Pause. Slowly let it out.

You remember how silly you felt the first time you did it. How it made you giggle at first. This is never going to work. But eventually it did. Anytime you got upset or started to overthink about this day, Harry made you stop whatever you were doing and sit down. Breathe.

It was a little difficult to do while walking. Your body wanted to pause your steps when your breath paused, but Harry tugged you along, you almost hiding behind him until you made it through a set of heavy wooden doors to a small space with a hospital bed and a curtain drawn in front of it.

//

The IV had had been your biggest dread, the fear overriding any logic that it was something you needed, instead of something the nurses decided to do simply to torture you.

Your face twists into a wince of pain when the needle goes into your vein, Harry standing over you, his face a mirror of your own as you squeeze his hand. When the nurse pulls away with a triumphant "all done!" you flash a look of surprise between your arm and Harry.

"Not that bad, eh? Think ya overreacted a bit about how bad that was gonna be?" He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to shoot him a nasty look for teasing you.

"Maybe a little." You pinch your index finger and thumb together, indicating a minimal amount.

"Tiny bit more, babe," Another nurse appears from around the curtain and he laughs before speaking to her, "it's all she's worried about all morning."

"Honestly that's everyone's least favorite part. The rest of the day should be aces if you can handle that!"

Harry settles himself into a chair while the nurse goes through a myriad of questions. Any other surgeries? Allergies to medications you know of? Do you smoke? Drink?

Harry snorts when you say no to drinking, but quickly clasps his hand over his mouth when the nurse's head snaps to look between you and him.

"The occasional drink is fine, no worries. Nothing this morning though, right?"

"No, ma'am."

Your eyes meet his, a mischievous grin still plastered across his face. He mumbles a quick "sorry" while you try to pull your concentration back towards the nurse and the remainder of her questions.

"Alright, time for the good stuff," she passes you a small clear cup with two white pills, "First one is just something to keep you calm and relaxed, second one is to prevent any pain after the procedure. They'll give you something to make you sleepy when you get to the OR, but this might make you a bit loopy for now."

"This should be fun." Harry claps his hand in front of him, rubbing them together quickly. He leans forward in his chair, as if ready for a show.

"Yeah? Is she a happy drunk?"

Harry had only ever experienced you high on any sort of prescription medication once, almost a year ago when you went on a girl's trip with your best friend and twisted your ankle in an attempt to make it back to her car after dinner out one night. You calling him from an unknown ER in the middle of the night had terrified him enough to start packing a bag to fly to you before your best friend could grab your phone and assure him you were fine and she would put you on a plane home to him in two days as planned. He had teased you endlessly when he picked you up from the airport and for the next few days afterwards as you limped around on a bruised, ACE bandage wrapped foot.

But after too many wine drunk nights to count, he had enough stories to humiliate you with and the thought of any one of them being told now had you sinking further into the hospital bed.

"You could say that. Last time she.." His voice trails off at the sight of your eyes, wide as saucers, begging him to stop.

The nurse grins, her face kind and sympathetic to your silent cry for help.

"We're a little behind schedule this morning so it may be about 20 minutes before they come transport you, okay?" You nod, the effects of the sedative already working its way through your system, "Keep an eye on her? Make sure she behaves?"

"Yeah, I got her. We'll be fine, thank you so much." He's closer now, standing next to you again, a hand sliding up your arm to settle on your shoulder. You manage a thumbs up and a sleepy "thank you" as an affirmation that you appreciate all she's done for you.

"You're more than welcome. You'll have a different set of nurses in recovery but if you need anything until they come get you, just let me know, alright?"

"We will, thanks." His thumb ghosts across the front of your collarbone, the lightest of touches to soothe you, his eyes still focused on the nurse.

"Good luck! You're gonna do just fine, I promise."

The second she's around the curtain, Harry nudges you lightly, "Scoot."

"Huh? What do you mean..Harry, there's not enough room for you in this bed." Your head feels too light to deal with his nonsense now.

"Yeah there is if you scoot. C'mon. Hurry before we get caught. M’supposed to be keeping an eye on you, remember? Gotta make sure you don't fall outta the bed."

He's already wedged himself next to you, trying to make his tall frame fit into the limited space.

You move over as much as you can, the rail of the bed poking into your hip.

He tucks one arm behind your head, the other one thrown behind his own as a cushion.

"You feel more relaxed now, lovie?"

You scrunch down in the bed, just enough that you can tuck your head under his other arm, "A little. I don't feel sleepy enough though," Your eyes dart up, seeking the comfort of his face, "I'm scared, H."

"I know you are, baby," the hand behind your head shifts to cup around your arm, pulling you closer, "Just pretend you're home with me and we're taking a nice little nap together, yeah?"

"But you won't be there with me, not really."

"I'll be there when you wake up though. First thing you'll see when you open your eyes, promise." He runs a finger along the curve of your nose, "Close your eyes. Try to sleep, hmm?"

You shake your head, turning towards him to hide your face in his side, inhaling his scent.

"Want me to turn the light off? Would that help?"

"No," You toss the arm that isn't trapped between you two over him, holding tightly to his shirt, "Stay."

"Alright, then. We'll just wait," He tilts his head to rest closer to yours, "Have you thought about what you want to eat after?"

"Not really. M'too nervous to think about food."

"We'll think of something good. Whatever you want."

"You're gonna get us in trouble, better scoot back to your corner like a good boy." Your words come out unintentionally slurred and you weakly push yourself up and away from him as he slides off. He doesn't sit though, just stands near you, an anxious look flashing across his features.

"Hey, c'mere. Gonna be fine, routine surgery, remember?" You stretch your arms out to him, a plea to be near his warmth again.

He sits on the edge of the bed, facing you. You tug lightly at the sleeve of his cardigan, a feeble attempt to pull him closer. He indulges you, his brow still creased with distress.

"Know ya gonna be fine, just hate you have to go through it at all. Wish I could take it from you without all this." He gestures to the IV he knows you despise so much.  

"You have helped take it from me. All the sleepless nights you spent up with me, holding my hair back when I got sick. All the days after when I was too drained to get out of bed. You were there for as much of it as you could be. And you pushed me to go see the surgeon in the first place. You've helped me more than you give yourself credit for."

His fingers intertwine in yours, the pad of his thumb soothing over the front of your hand.

"Make sure you keep my phone with you, my mom will probably call you every 30 minutes for updates." A yawn stretches across your face, "She has your number too, bullied me into giving it to her last week when I called to tell her about the surgery."

He nods, patting his pocket to make sure both phones are still nestled there together.

Another yawn threatens to escape and you muffle it this time, more content to fight sleep to stare at Harry; his hair a perfect mess of curls under the harsh brightness of the hospital lighting. His face is more relaxed now, his eyes still focused on your fingers tangled together. He catches you, your eyes glazed over, too heavy and threatening to close.

"Darling, please close your eyes. I can see how tired you are," His fingertips sweep delicately over your nose again, as if he was lulling a baby to sleep, "You don't have to stay awake for me."

"Closing my eyes for just a second, alright? Not because you told me to though. I want to. Wake me up in 2 hours, don't wanna sleep too long."

Your eyes are already drifting closed, the last thing you hear is a chuckle; effortless, light as air, "I will, promise."

Soft kisses pressed across your face, "Sweet dreams, love."

//

His voice is the first you hear as you wake up in the dimly lit recovery room. Well, really it was more like a big cubicle, another space with a curtain drawn in front of it. Even with the floaty, dreamy feeling flowing through your system, you can still detect the worry in his voice.

"Harry?" It takes your mind a minute to catch up and process where you are and what had happened.

Oh yeah. Surgery day. No more annoying gallbladder. No more sleepless nights. Freedom to eat what you want and not be haunted by nausea and sickness from what you ate.

"How are you feeling? Any pain?" Suddenly a nurse in bright blue scrubs is there, way too animated and loud at the moment, "Pain scale 1-10?"

"I don't have any pain. Zero." You're aware of how high you sound and a giggle escapes through the haze. That earns you a smile from Harry, one that lights up his whole face and makes his dimples shine through.

"Awesome! Well then as soon as you're good and awake we're gonna get this IV out and go over some paperwork for both of you to sign. I want you to drink something for me too, so what would you like?"

You request a ginger ale and as soon as the nurse leaves to retrieve it for you, Harry scoots the chair he's sitting in as close to the bed as possible.

"How long was I out?"

"Couple of hours," He absentmindedly fixes your hair, looping various curls back around to their respective places, "Took a little longer than expected, you had a small infection so they had to make sure it hadn't spread."

"How much longer?"

"Long enough you had us all slightly worried." His hand trails down your cheek to cup your chin gently, urging you to look at him, "You sure you're not in pain? Now's not the time to do that stubbornly brave thing you do where you pretend nothing's wrong."

"I feel fine, really. Just a little tired, ready to go home."

He studies your face, trying to find any trace of dishonesty. When he's satisfied you're being truthful, he stands and extracts your phone from his pocket.

"Already talked to ya mum, but your co-workers were all texting you, asking how you were. Figured you'd want to handle that yourself, didn't know how much detail you would want to give them."

"Did you give my mother all the details? Infection and everything?"

"Um, no. I knew better than to do that. Promised her you would call when I got you settled at home."

"You promised or she demanded?"

"Okay..she politely asked that you call her when we get home."

"That sounds more like her." You roll your eyes, pushing yourself so you're sitting more upright in the bed.

"She just worries about you." He adjusts the pillow behind you, fluffing and tucking it where you direct it, against your lower back.

"I know. I'll FaceTime her when we get home to prove I'm alive."

"It's been a while since we've seen them, maybe we should plan a visit?" He plops himself back in the chair, leaning back as far as he can go; hands behind his head, eyes closed. You'd both gotten very little sleep the night before, you were too anxious and he was too gracious to let you suffer alone.

"Oh please, I'm lucky I even got time off to do this. My boss would never allow another break so soon."

"Maybe for the holidays?"

"Maybe..but only if you can go with me, you know they love you more than me by now anyway."

"They do not," He peeks one eye open at you, "They love us both equally."

You shoot a quick text to your co-workers, using the group chat between the few of you to make it easier.

I'm out! Feeling okay for now but that might change later lol

The nurse is back, apologizing for taking so long, "We've been so behind all day, it's crazy busy. I had to wait for your doctor to sign off on your release." She hands you a can of ginger ale, white bendy straw already poised and ready for you.

"Just need you to sign here," She holds a clipboard and a pen out to you and you balance the can dangerously in one hand while you scribble something that resembles your signature. Close enough. She gestures for you to pass the clipboard to Harry, "His signature goes under yours, just says he's responsible for you for the next few hours until everything wears off."

"This means I'm the boss, right?" He leans over to grab the board, a wink thrown in your direction. He's enjoying himself way too much at the thought of being in control of you for the next few hours. Smug son of a bitch.

She takes the clipboard back and pulls off a yellow sheet of paper, "This is just your copy of what you signed, and also has post op instructions for your bandages. Your prescription's been sent to the pharmacy, and there's a brief summary of pain management information on the bottom there just in case you need it."

"Thank you." You transfer it right to Harry's waiting hand, knowing he'll be the one surveying every word, making sure you follow everything to the letter.

"I know you mentioned earlier having a little bit of a drive home, so probably once you get her some food and pick up her prescriptions, it'll be time for another round of meds. Okay?" She turns to you again, "I know it sounds silly, but one of the most important things after this particular surgery is lots of walking. Otherwise you'll be miserable. Rest for a while when you get home, then get up every 10 minutes or so until bedtime. Don't let her skip that part, alright? Very important."

"I heard you weren't a big fan of this thing," She nods towards the IV in your right forearm, "So this'll probably be the best part of this whole process for you. We'll get this out and then you can get changed and we'll get someone to wheel you down and out of here, alright? Don't look and you won't even know when it's gone."

"Hey, think about what you want to eat, huh? Your first freedom meal. Yay!" He slips his hand into your left, raising your connected hands victoriously. You didn't think it was possible for you to love him anymore until this moment. The way he could so easily erase your fear was one of his many gifts you adored him for, "What are we having, babe?"

You don't even hesitate before answering, "Pizza, from Milano's. It's my favorite, other than that one place in Italy you took me to. Please? Oh and one of their salads, with the little bread knots on the side!"

He glances at the nurse, awaiting a reprimand for your meal choice.

"As your nurse, I feel I should remind you that while you can have anything you feel like eating, we usually recommend something small and light at first. Broth or soup with some toast, maybe. The salad may be fine, but the pizza might be a little heavy. Taking it slow would be best. But everyone is different."

"So..just cheese then? Maybe some mushrooms?"

You let your head fall back against the pillow, a foggy haze settling over you, "Plain cheese, no mushrooms."

"Alright, sounds good. Why don't I go call it in and pull the car around? Meet you out front?" He leans closer, a quick peck to your cheek before pulling his hand loose from yours and turning to leave.

"Hey, wait," You attempt to tug at his wrist, but fail, your brain still set to slow-motion. He takes pity on you and returns to your side, "Let's eat there. It's in the mall so we can window shop after we eat."

"You sure? You still seem a bit tipsy, honey."

You don't feel tipsy. Just tired, and hungry. Very hungry. As if on cue, your stomach makes a remarkably loud noise; an objection at not being fed for the past 12 hours.

"Alright, alright, calm down. " You let out an embarrassed groan when you realize he's talking to your stomach, "We'll eat there."

He kisses you again, closer to your mouth, "Missed."

"I did, huh?" He chuckles, close enough to your face now your noses are almost touching, "Let's try again."

This time his lips meet yours and you know he missed on purpose the first time by how amused he looks when he pulls away.

"One more for luck?" You can't resist letting the back of your hand wander over his face, before resting the palm of your hand against his cheek.

"I think I can handle that," He smiles before landing another quick peck to your lips, "Be good for the nurse while I'm gone. I'll have the getaway car ready in 10, yeah?"

//

You're certain Harry would have fed you if you would have let him, right here in the mall food court in front of everyone. But you refuse, insisting even, on carrying your own tray to the table. He chuckles when you pull your phone out of your sweater pocket to take a picture of your food, quickly uploading it to Facebook.

He watches you closely as you take the first bite, even pulling his own phone out to sneak a photo of you when you temporarily close your eyes to appreciate the indulgence of being able to eat one of your favorite foods again; free from that anxious feeling of whether or not it would settle right with your body later. You open your eyes the very moment after he captured the image.

"Harry!"

"You just looked so happy! I couldn't help it. You know I'll never post it anyway. Snagged a few of you earlier in your little blue cap they made you wear too." He flips back through to show you. You try to snatch the phone away, but he's too quick to pull his hand back and stash his phone in his pocket.

"When??"

"After you fell asleep, right before they came to take you back."

He takes a bite from his own generous slice of pizza in front of him before gesturing to your tray, "How is it?"

"Amazing. Even better than before, if possible."

His smile is bright, loving the satisfaction of seeing you actually enjoy food again.

Your plan to walk around the mall was cut short, you could barely make it through one store without yawning. You cling to Harry most of the way back to the car, his arm securely wrapped around you to keep you steady.

You doze off on the drive home, and when your eyes flutter open you find him opening the passenger door, offering a hand to help lift you out of the car and up the stairs into the house. Your foot stumbles on the first step, failing to make contact and you almost fall back.

"Easy," He giggles, an arm thrown behind your back to catch you before encouraging softly, "Try again."

When he's confident you're stable enough on your feet, he lets go to unlock the door.

You're greeted by a bouquet of flowers, a colorful arrangement of roses and lilies from Harry's band mates. You immediately recognize Sarah's handwriting on the card and make a mental note to shoot everyone a thank you text later. You don't know if it's the medication still in your system, the exhaustion of the day, or the overwhelming amount of love that makes you teary eyed.

Harry stands behind you as you admire the flowers and the card, arms curving around to hug you, careful of the large bandage on your upper abdomen and the two smaller steri-strips on your right side.

"How did they know pink roses were my favorite?"

"They love you, peach." He rests his chin on your shoulder, "Besides, you've only mentioned growing up with a pink rose bush in your Nanna's garden about a hundred times."

"I always loved it. Still do."

Your mind travels back to your earliest memories spent there; summers when you practically lived at the small house on the hill. Helping pick tomatoes and peppers from the garden, too warm afternoons spent with a book in your lap under the shade of a peach tree, your grandfather's corny jokes and loving smile. Your Nanna's too generous portions of food contributing to the few extra curves you still carried with you to this day.

You don't even notice the tears at first. They slip down your cheeks and land on his arm. Once you realize, you try to quickly wipe them away, but Harry sees.

"Hey..c'mon, I think your high's wearing off a bit, bub. Pajamas, meds, nap. Sound good?" He turns you to face him, using the sleeve of his shirt to brush away any tears that still linger at the corner of your eyes.

"What time is it?"

"Almost 3..why?"

"No nap. I'll never sleep tonight, and you know how grumpy I get when my sleep schedule is thrown off." Even with your declaration of not wanting a nap, you can't help but rub your eyes, a weak attempt to keep yourself awake. Any resolve Harry had to try to convince you to nap melts away. A smirk on his face, he knows you'll eventually crash later, most likely on his chest or in his arms. He's content to let you be stubborn for now.

"Okay, then. New plan. Pajamas, meds, movie. Better?"

"Better. You get everything ready and pick the movie while I change?"

"You don't wanna pick the movie?"

You wave him off, already shuffling towards the bedroom, "You're the boss today, remember?"

You take your time gathering what you need to get cozy for the rest of the day, selecting an oversized, well-worn tie dye t-shirt and leggings from your dresser. You even take a moment to dip into Harry's extensive sweatshirt collection, grabbing your favorite one. It's amazingly soft and still smells of him, a faint scent of his cologne and well..just Harry. You couldn't imagine anything more comforting.

In your pursuit to feel more lucid, you venture into the bathroom, taking a moment to wash your face. The cool water instantly refreshes you and pushes you closer to feeling like yourself again. Wanting your hair out of your face, you pluck a scrunchy from your shared collection of hair accessories. You quickly recognize that your arms still have that too heavy feeling of unconsciousness and after a few attempts to gather your curls into some sort of up-do, you give up and loop the accessory around your wrist to try again later.

Harry senses your frustration when you find him in the kitchen, two small green pill bottles sitting on the counter in front of him. He's already filled your favorite cup with ice water, and you gratefully take it and drink from it.

"What's wrong?" His brow creases with concern and you feel guilty for making him worry over something so silly.

"Nothing..just wanted my hair up out of my face but my arms wouldn't cooperate." You try to laugh it off to put him more at ease, "It's not a big deal."

You know it's only the weariness of the day still making you feel so emotional, clear-headed you would not be upset over something so small.

"Here. Let me try." He slides the scrunchy from your wrist and pulls you closer to him, moving behind you to gently work long fingers through your hair, gathering it all in a loose ponytail on top of your head before securing it around a few times with the scrunchy.

You let your shoulders drop with a deep sigh when he's done, it was such a simple thing, but it made you feel so much lighter. He spins you around to face him, a charming gleam of pride at his handiwork adorning his face, "Too tight?"

"No. Much better. Thank you, Harry. You take such good care of me always, but today..I don't know what I would've done without you. I made such a big fuss and probably made you miserable with all of my worrying." You're suddenly very aware that you are rambling, but when you catch a glimpse of his face, his smile is wide. So bright that the skin around his eyes is crinkling.

He leans towards you, lips stopping whatever words may have come next, arms wrapping around you to pull you closer in a soft, warm embrace. When he pulls away, his eyes bore right into yours, and your heart swells with more love than you could ever imagine having for one person. But he wasn't just any person. He was your person, your whole word staring back at you.

"I'm SO proud of you. You've been so strong today, always knew you had that strength in you, but seeing you take that leap of faith..doing something you knew you should despite your fear, that's all you, love. I can't take any credit for that. You've made me anything but miserable, trust me."

His face is still close enough to yours that you nudge forward, pressing your forehead to his, a silent appreciation of his affection.

"Any pain yet?" He pulls back, a thumb across your cheek, eyes still locked on yours.

"My head kind of hurts? And I still just feel kind of..drunk."

"You have always been a bit of a lightweight, babe. And a thief too, I see. S'that my sweatshirt?"

"Have not!" You swat playfully at his arm, "Maybe. Is that my hair clip in your hair?"

"Possibly." His eyes dart up to the swoop of curls on top of his head, a black plastic clip twisting it back and away from his face.

"Guess we're even then."

"S'pose we are." He tries to keep his eyes narrowed in a mock attempt of annoyance, but it quickly fades into laughter.

You decide against FaceTiming your family, hoping that hearing your voice will be enough. It seems to satisfy them at least for the rest of the day. You assure them that Harry is taking very good care of you and that everything went as smooth as could be expected.

He raises one eyebrow at you as you hang up, "As smooth as expected, huh? You aren't going to tell them the truth?"

"What's to tell? I had an infection and now it's gone. I'm fine, there's no sense in worrying them. We can give them the full story later."

He shrugs, fingers working to open one of the green pill bottles before passing one of the white pills to you, "For your headache, lovie. There's something here for nausea too if you need it. M'worried the pizza might've been too much. Maybe you should take one of these..just in case?"

"Harry, I promise I will tell you if I feel anything other than fine." Your hand runs from his shoulder down his bicep, squeezing gently, "Besides, I cannot take a whole one of those. If you think I'm a lightweight now..I'll sleep for the whole week if I take that."

He slips the bottle in his pocket, pulling you in to press a kiss to the top of your head, "We'll keep it close just in case, okay?"

"Sounds good," Your hand trails back up to his neck to work fingers through his hair, "Hey, thought we were watching a movie? What'd you pick?"

"Thought we could decide together. C'mon, let's get you comfy in bed."

"Ever the gentleman, always trying to get me in your bed."

"Hey! I am a perfect gentleman, thank you very much," He chuckles, a hand coming to rest on the small of your back, "Just thought you'd be more comfortable, you can prop up and stretch your feet out."

You let him tug you along for the second time today, thankful it's the luxury of your shared bed you get to settle into this time. He tucks you in softly, propping pillows behind your back and head.

"Comfy? Need anything else?"

"No, just need you to quit babying me so much and relax with me for a bit."

"Since when am I not allowed to baby you?"

You roll your eyes, "Never said you weren't allowed. Just want you to stop worrying so much, that's all."

"Good. Cause y'are my baby," No matter how many times you'd heard him say it before, it never failed to make you blush, "Do anything for you, y'know that, right?"

"I know," You look down at your hands, trying to slow your racing heart, "You never let me forget."

"Hey," He pokes your cheek, pulling your gaze back up to him, "I love you."

"I love you more, H."

He kisses your forehead, "Impossible. I love you most."

The reference to one of your favorite movies has you smiling at him, that dreamy feeling falling over you again, "Can we watch Tangled?"

"Sure, princess."

He sinks next to you, head propped up on your shoulder, navigating easily through Disney+ to find your requested movie.

Your eyes drift closed right about the time the lanterns are being released in the sky, a moment that normally leaves your face wet with tears, the soft vibrations of Harry humming along the perfect lullaby to push you further into your dream.

//

He wakes you later in the evening.

"Dinner's on the table if you want to join me."

"Time's it?" Your voice is still heavy with sleep.

"7. You were sleeping so deeply I didn't want to wake you, thought your body could use the extra sleep today."

"Yeah. It was nice, thank you." You stretch your arms forward, reaching for his hands to help pull you up.

"How do you feel?"

"A little sore. More sober, for sure."

Dinner is simple; a bowl of plain broth, salad, and toast. Exactly what the nurse suggested earlier. There's even a warm mug of tea waiting for you.

"With honey for my honey," He's so proud of his cheesy expression of love you cannot help but smile.

You look at him curiously when he sits next to you, the same boring meal set out for himself.

"Harry..you can eat what you want, babe. Seriously you've done enough today, more than enough to be supportive. It wouldn't hurt my feelings if you made yourself something different."

"Nah. S'fine. We're in this together, yeah?"

You raise your eyebrows at him playfully, "Did you have an organ snatched from your body today?"

"No, I didn't." He laughs, "I just meant food wise, love. It's vegetable broth, by the way, hope that's alright."

"It's perfect."

You nudge him lightly, an elbow to his side, shifting closer to ask for a kiss. He meets you the rest of the way, lips planted firmly on yours. When you don't pull away, he quickly adds another.

After dinner is done and you have another round of meds, the two of you end up in an awkward ball of cuddles on the couch. Harry flips through the channels on the tv before finding a show you both agree on.

But you're too restless, unable to find a position comfortable enough for you. You shift a few times, finally giving up and letting out a frustrated groan before tossing the blanket off the both of you and springing up and off the couch.

Harry doesn't panic, just grabs your hand before you can get too far away or lose your balance, keeping his voice low when he asks, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing hurts. I just can't get comfortable, and I don't feel right."

"What doesn't feel right, angel? Explain."

"I don't feel like myself. I don't know how to explain it. Just feel off."

He sees you're on the verge of tears and ascends from his spot on the couch, arms quickly enveloping you before placing a finger under your chin to pull your face up to look at him.

"It's probably gonna take a day or so to adjust, baby. Yes it was a minor surgery but it was a major change to your body." He's bending now to look right into your eyes, searching them,  "How can we fix it tonight, hmm? What do you need?"

Tears are free flowing, falling on the front of your t-shirt and down to the floor.

"Take your time. Breathe." A large hand smoothing warm circles firmly across your back; a balm for your restless spirit.

You pause, deep breath in before slowly letting it out, "I think I just need to move around for a bit."

"Let's go for a walk, eh? A quick one and then back to bed. Your mind needs more rest. How's that sound?" He taps your forehead softly.

"Okay, yeah." You nod your head, an approval of his plan.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Everything's gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine."

You nod again, scared your voice will break if you try to speak. He knew that those words held a lot of weight for you, he'd repeated them often throughout this whole process and to hear them now was a reminder of how safe you were. That with him, you would always be safe and loved.

Being dark outside meant you gracelessly padding through the house, up and down the hallway a few times and back to the living room. Harry stays close, encouraging you along with little claps and kisses to motivate you. When your stomach starts to feel uneasy, he urges you once again to take something for nausea. You agree to take a half a pill, knowing it'll help you sleep.

Despite the nap you had earlier and only being awake for a couple of hours, it doesn't take much convincing for you to settle back into bed.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

He's already reclined next to you, book in hand, the soft light from the lamp illuminating one side of his face. You're smushed against him, drifting between that sweet space of almost asleep and wanting to stay awake to enjoy any spare moment you get with him. His hand working through your hair helps push you towards the former of the two.

"I'm sorry to be such a burden today," Your words are slurring together but you continue on, just needing to get your thoughts out before he can stop you, "I don't deserve you and I shouldn't have overreacted so much about something so simple."

"Hey, none of that now," He lays the book on the nightstand, careful to save his place for later before pulling you closer to him, "You were not, nor have you ever been a burden to me. Just because you needed a little extra help today does not mean you aren't deserving of me or my love. You will never have to earn that. It's yours, always has been, will be as long as you decide to keep me around."

"Thank you. For all of it. I'll always want you."

"Always? Y'might change your mind someday, angel."

"I won't. Promise."

"Yeah? Me either."

A kiss laid delicately to the top of your head has your eyes dangerously close to falling shut again before another thought navigates its way through your mind and out of your mouth before you can stop it.

"H..what am I gonna do with a full week off from work?"

"Let me take care of you?"

//

And that's exactly what he does.

Mornings spent sleeping in, late breakfasts made together and afternoon walks. Evenings consisting of the two of you preparing dinner together or ordering takeout from some of the forbidden places you couldn't eat from before. Mugs of herbal tea before early bedtimes, you sweetly falling asleep to the sound of his voice reading to you most nights.

But his favorite part was that the scent of lavender was no longer cursed for you. Some nights before your surgery, when you simply could not fall asleep the pain was so unbearable, you would fill the tub with hot water and lavender scented bubbles to try to calm yourself enough to be able to drift off afterwards. It never worked, the heat always doing more harm than good. Harry would always be waiting for you, open arms and a soft towel to wrap you in.

So the smell became one you hated, memories of sleepless nights and nausea. But now you were free to use it again for what you always loved it for before it was cursed. In your body wash, lotion, even your laundry detergent; spreading the scent all over your shared space in as many ways as you could.

He even mentions it one night after dinner, when the two of you are pressed impossibly close together on the couch. His nose buried into your neck, inhaling deeply, pulling away to announce, "You smell like you again, love. Missed it so much." He burrows back in, placing kisses from your neck to your shoulder, ignoring your giggles and protests of how much it tickles.

A week later, the alarm wakes you sooner than you've become accustomed to, reminding you of your return to work. Harry's arm thrown over your waist pulls you closer as you try to leave the bed, a sleepy "Don't go." mumbled in your ear.

You do your best to peel yourself away from him, admitting silently to yourself how much harder it is for you to leave the warmth of your bed as it is for him to let you go.

//

2 years later, you have a scar you swear didn't heal right, and a man who loves you even more because of it.

[katnissmellarkkk]

I *DEMAND* part 3 of shattered pearl. I repeat. I *DEMAND*.

Hahahahaha omg. Well, I decided to legitimately dig through the archives of my writing drafts and found chapter three of the Peeta-Wasn’t-Hijacked fic. It’s been given like 1,000 different names on different sites. I’ve never loved any of them. And I don’t really think this is my best writing ngl. But I also figure ... why be so stingy, ya know? If I have an incomplete draft, that I probably won’t finish, why not post a little bit? Especially since I literally left everyone and their brother who were reading this fic on a cliffy for over a year.

With that said.... I wrote this part like ... 15 months ago? 14 ? 13 ? Something like that. And I haven’t edited it since so ... yeah! Here’s a small chunk of chapter three! 🥳🥳🥳 Hope it’s better than I remember it being!

But it’s lacking something and it’s only then I realize, what I’m searching for inside Gale’s mouth, is the spark that only Peeta’s ever ignited in me. I keep waiting in vain for the warmth that started in my stomach and then rose up and exploded in my chest, for the craving that no matter what I couldn’t manage to satisfy, for the thrilling, almost hysterical, tingly feeling, to overcome me and leave me lightheaded in a completely foreign way. A way that couldn’t be attributed to lack of oxygen.

But it never does. I pull back and wipe my mouth carelessly on my arm and sigh, already sensing Gale’s demeanor taking a nose dive at my lackluster reaction.

I’m not disappointed when I look to see his expression. His eyes are frustrated, his mouth is downturned, his eyebrows are pinched together. And I feel as bad as I knew I would. Because no matter what, I’m hurting someone I deeply care for.

But how I feel upon seeing Gale’s face isn’t even comparable to the amount of remorse that fills me, that overtakes my entire being, when I see Peeta standing in the doorway, having watched our entire exchange.

/

I yelled his name as he disappeared down the hall. I tried to rip out all the needles and wires connecting me to the machines and the stiff, sterilized bed but Gale used all his strength to push me down flat. I was overpowered and exhausted and my left side was screaming mercilessly, and I don’t even know what pain was the bruised lung and what pain was my hurt ribs and what pain was my heart violently smashing into the pit of my stomach.

All I know is that if I had been able to reach Peeta before he evaporated, I have no clue what I would have said to him.

What I could have said to make it alright.

Gale tried to talk to me again after that but I entirely tuned him out, no longer caring if I wounded his feelings, or anyone else's for that matter.

It seems like no matter what I do, no matter how careful or cautious or preemptive I try to be, someone still got hurt in the end.

I wish I could just shut out the world, like I did during those first few weeks in Thirteen. Hide inside closets when I had a flashback. Shove myself into a minuscule crawl space with every nightmare. Refuse to speak to anyone who wasn't Gale or my family. Only eat when my mother nearly forced me. Show no remorse for how rude or how clinically insane I came across.

But now there was an agreement in place, an agreement I made to protect the victors—namely the one who just disappeared down the hall on me—and the people who had no voice on their own. The people who’s only chance was a half-crazed, shell-shocked, battle worn seventeen year old girl, who was just gunned down on national television.

Even if I wanted to retreat to some safe haven inside my head—if such a thing even existed for me—like Annie Cresta, I knew it could never happen.

For me, that wasn’t an option. If I don’t fulfill my duties to Coin, Peeta, Johanna, Annie and probably countless more people will suffer. The districts would undoubtably suffer. Gale would suffer. My mother and Prim would suffer.

I was proven right when later that same night Plutarch came to visit me again. I'd been lying on my side to avoid having to see Gale, who was still soldered to my bedside. My good side was thankfully opposite his seat.

When the Gamemaker spoke I thought I would be forced back to work. Forced to head back to the rebels and engage in their plans.

And I was resigned to it, well aware all along that I wouldn't be given the luxury of time to grieve the hurt I just caused Peeta. Or even the pain I knew I was inflicting upon Gale. The constant seesaw my heart was bouncing up and down on.

I was endlessly thankful that I was still pumped with morphling when Plutarch said that I was needed in Coin's office, because it heavily suppressed any real emotion I had brewing deep inside.

Morphling can cause you to let down your guard sometimes, make you say or do things you wouldn't otherwise or allow things to happen you'd ordinarily have the sense to stop. But it also causes all your severe emotions, all your heightened feelings, to dull as well. And for that, in light of everything that had just transpired, I was eternally grateful for.

When the doctor had removed all the needles from my arm, and I had been given a robe to go over my hospital gown—which, shockingly, was even uglier and thinner and itchier than the gowns they gave in the Capitol hospitals—Gale escorts me down the halls, through the corridors and to President Coin’s office.

I don’t speak to him the entire time. Looking at him makes my stomach churn with remorse and regret, though I’m not even sure who those feelings are directed towards. I’m not even sure how to articulate the way I feel right now.

And, as much as I try to force him out of my mind—as much as I do my best to rip him out from wherever he crawled beneath my skin and flooded into my veins—I inexplicably miss Peeta.

In more ways than I even know how to decipher. Even inside my own head.

I thought that feeling of longing would have ebbed away once he was rescued from Snow and his twisted mansion, but even knowing he’s safe here in Thirteen, I still crave his presence next to me.

I still want him next to me almost all the time.

It’s at least partially attributable to the fact that for so long, it was me and Peeta against the world. He has been my partner in this whirlwind rollercoaster since the first games and, even when I feel like every single aspect that could potentially go wrong has, sometimes it seems like I couldn’t have gotten luckier with who was chosen that fateful reaping to stand by my side the entire horrific ride.

I wipe my eyes as inconspicuously as I can but Gale sees and almost instinctively puts his hand on my shoulder. And proves he knows me better than I give him credit for. “I’ll talk to him, Katniss.”

“Don’t,” I immediately hiss. “You’ll just make it worse, Gale. He-he,” I struggle with explaining what I want to say and I curse my best friend for even addressing my moment of weakness because now I have to go talk to Coin, looking like an unstable mess—with a near bullet wound—and I blurt out the very first thing I can think of. “He doesn’t even know you, okay? You’ll just-“

There’s no malice in Gale’s voice as he softly replies, “Well, he was fine when I went and saw him before you woke up.”

I stop now, dead in my tracks. “You saw him? After I was shot?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah, I felt like should check on him. I know...” He pauses and looks upwards and I recognize, once again, this whole thing isn’t easy for him either. “I know he means a lot to you. And I heard what happened when he saw you go down. So I went and checked in on him...” He stops again before shrugging nonchalantly. “He was calmer by the time I saw him. He was nice. He’s always been nice.” At that Gale rolls his eyes. “Too nice. Probably why Snow wanted to hurt him.”

I start walking again, moving ahead of him a few paces. “You’re not helping,” I state, my voice a monotone.

“I’ll talk to him,” Gale offers again, running to catch up.

“Please don’t, okay? Just let it be. I don’t even know if he’ll speak to me, I don’t want to have to worry about what you’ll say to him.”

I vigorously shake off his hand on my shoulder when he tries to comfort me again, and feel him root into place as I make the rest of the way to Coin’s office.

And I wonder if I hurt him now too.

I wonder if I managed to completely annihilate them both from me in one night.

/

Much to my surprise and, to be completely honest, my utter disappointment, Coin doesn’t want me to head back out and fight for the rebellion. She doesn’t want me to even film more propos.

Plutarch does, but his ideas now are pretty frivolous and have more to do with him being still stuck in the fantasy of putting on a good show and less to do with fighting for the good of the country.

Coin simply says, “You did your job, Miss Everdeen. You united the districts,” in her calm, disingenuous—completely unsettling—tone.

And argument I put up is met with a simple shake of the head and a pursing of her lips. All indisputable rejections, her cold, blank eyes telling me wordlessly that in no way could I sway her once her mind was made up.

Still doesn’t stop me from trying though.

“I want to help the rebels,” I plead, looking to Boggs behind Coin’s chair, his face still stoic but his eyes giving me a look that isn’t altogether dismissive.

That was something. It was more than I was getting from either Coin or Plutarch.

Coin though brushes off my words and cuts me down infuriatingly quick with a single sentence. “Plutarch wanted to see Peeta earlier, talk about some propos. But when he sent for him, one of the doctors working with Peeta said he wasn’t having a good day.”

Her tone is smooth and pleasant enough but there was an undercurrent to her words that she knew I would hear. “Do you know how Peeta is? I would have thought with your waking up this morning, he’d be in better shape than he was but if you two aren’t getting-“

“Me and Peeta are fine,” I snap, not liking whatever she’s implying.

She nods, slowly at me, choosing her next sentiment carefully. “Well, let’s hope so. We need both of you now to remain the faces of this revolution. And I wouldn’t want you to do anything rash because of... problems between you and your... between you and Peeta.”

I’m shaking my head, feigning certainty, before she even finishes. “That’s not why I want to help the rebels,” I insist firmly.

“Irregardless, Miss Everdeen, we don’t have a job for you. You aren’t qualified to go into the fight and we no longer need your propos to unite the districts. Your job is done. Thank you for your help.”

And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I’m being definitively dismissed now. Indefinitely.

I don’t make any effort to keep my cool, instead choosing to storm out of the room, slamming the door cacophonously behind me and wonder why I let that woman get to me so much. Why her words and implications slice me open like a knife.

Why no matter how much I try, I just can’t like her.

Something about her rubs me the wrong way and, once again, I wish Peeta was here with me in the room, because he of all people could understand what about Coin felt off and strange and so familiar.

I curse myself again, as I suddenly miss him even more than before.

Unable to force myself to put my focus elsewhere—especially now that Gale is surely angry too—I change directions and head towards the recovery room.

I don’t even knock before entering. I push the door open, only to find him sitting on top of his bed, a sketchbook in hand, a lot more tranquil than I pictured.

He looks up as I enter—and then, simultaneously freeze in the doorway, like the coward I truly am inside. Before he can speak though, I blurt out, “I know you’re mad about me kissing Gale and I don’t know how much you saw or heard, but it wasn’t... it wasn’t exactly...” I stop because once again, I’m unprepared and out of my element and have no rhyme or reason in what I’m trying to say. I don’t know the right thing to say. I never know the right thing to say.

Maybe if I did, I wouldn’t screw always everything up. “It wasn’t,” I finally force myself to continue, off his patient and somewhat bewildered glance. “It wasn’t what I wanted... I didn’t want it to happen. I don’t, I don’t even know what-“

He finally puts me out of my misery now. “Katniss,” he speaks my name along with a sigh. I watch carefully, feeling a lump build in my throat, as his blonde brows furrow over his baby blues.

He shakes his head, slow and calm. Far more reasonable than I ever anticipated. “I’m not mad at you, Katniss,” he promises, with all the genuineness in the world.

I bite my lip, befuddled by his words. “But... where have you been then?” Why did you leave me? A small voice in the back of my mind demands.

He shrugs, his gaze falling down to his bed now. His demeanor is almost embarrassed, I realize with a start.

“I wanted to give you and Gale space. I’ve been practically mauling you since you woke up so I thought-“

“But I didn’t want you to leave,” I abruptly burst out, unable to shove the words down any longer.

A pang of embarrassment shoots through me though, for the pathetic crack, evident in my tone. And I mentally berate myself.

Not for the embarrassment. For the pathetic crack itself.

And for the fact that somehow I’m the frenzied one here and Peeta is the voice of reason.

Which used to be our norm but after everything that’s transpired, I would have thought things would be reversed by now.

He just stares at me for a long moment, carefully considering his next words.

Finally, he opens his arms slowly and utters, “Come here,” in a tender murmur and I practically fly into his arms before I can second guess the offer.

I feel my injured side screaming as I curl up like a ribbon in his arms, but I surpress the wince to the best of my ability and instead bury my face in his shoulder, breathing in his sweet scent like a mad girl.

He softly presses his lips to my messy locks, carefully massaging the back of my head soothingly. “I’m sorry I ran away,” he whispers, barely loud enough for even me to hear. “I was just embarrassed. I know—I’ve always known deep down—that it’s not right for me to constantly hold you to the things you said in the games. Or to project my own feelings onto you.”

“You didn’t,” I refute venomously, my brows knitting together.

“Katniss, I know you and Gale have had something between you for a long time.”

“Gale was just a friend until me and you came back from our first games. Maybe he wanted to be more even before, I don’t know, but I never felt anything romantic for him. I swear.”

“You don’t have to defend your feelings to me,” he states softly.

“I know, it’s just...” I sigh, moving to sit upright across his thighs. “No matter what I do, it’s wrong. If I say I’m confused, you’re both hurting. If I say I want to kiss you or sleep with you or just be with you, I’m leading you on because I can’t-I can’t make any promises about my feelings right now, because I don’t even know up from down anymore. And if I say I do or don’t want to kiss Gale or be around him or hunt with him still, I’m hurting him or giving him the wrong idea or telling him the wrong things, and it all gets confused and there’s an entire rebellion that I’m the face of, and now I don’t even know if I’m a part of that, but Snow and his followers all hate me still so I know family still won’t be safe until this is all over. And you. You and Johanna and Annie went through the ringer over me. And Gale gets upset whenever he sees us together—it hurts him to see us—but I can’t always seperate you two from one another and I just-I don’t know what I can do. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Peeta lets me rant the whole entire spiel out, his hand slowly moving in circles to rub my back, from the top of my spine down to my backside. “Katniss,” he whispers once I’m done. “You don’t have to defend yourself to me. I get it. You’re under immense pressure. The last thing I want to do is make things harder on you.”

“You’re not,” I say, shaking my head insistently. “You’re not making anything worse, Peeta. It’s-it’s not you.”

“Okay,” he concedes and unconsciously wraps me up tighter in his arms. “Just relax, okay? Relax and breathe.”

I quiver and quake against him. “I don’t think I can.”

I barely realize I’m crying until Peeta leans down to kiss my tearstained cheek softly. “Katniss, it’s okay. I’m not mad. And Gale shouldn’t be. If he is, then that’s on him. The rebellion isn’t just your responsibility. Do not let them put all that weight on your shoulders. I know they already have but it’s not all your responsibility. And no one is going to let anything happen to your mom or sister.” He pushes my hair away from my forehead, pressing his lips there for a long moment. “Or you. I promise I will not let anything else happen to you.”

I swallow hard as he rests his forehead against my temple. I squeeze my eyes shut in hopes that it will make my head stop spinning somehow. Deep breaths to center myself fail miserably and in the end, I feel my bruised ribs and lung disagree with the movement and ache worse than before.

Peeta feels me cringing against him in pain and remains careful as he shifts, reaching for something off his bedside table.

I’m in too much pain to react as pushes off my robe and tugs my hospital gown down in order to slide against my skin, his hand holding it firmly to my side.

The icy temperature brings some sort of relief to me almost instantly, and I let out an audible sigh of relief, feeling my rigid body relax even a minuscule amount for the first time.

“I don’t blame you for having feelings for Gale,” Peeta murmurs, drawing my attention back to our conversation and away from my painful left side. “And if you want to be with him, I won’t hold it against you. I’m not going to lie, I’d be ... sad but... it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t still be your friend. It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t still be at jere for you however you needed me. There’s no ultimatums here, Katniss. I’m still here for you, even if you’d rather be with Gale.”

I pause for a long moment, absorbing his words. He’d be willing to be my friend, even if I hurt him? Even if I chose someone else over him? Even after everything we went through, even after all the ways he’d been abused because Snow could see how much I care for him? How much I need him. He’s still willing to put it all aside and be there for me, no strings attached.

And I try not to compare but my brain draws the conclusion almost involuntarily, and I can’t stop myself from realizing that, in the same position, Gale would likely not be telling me the same thing.

I burrow my face deeper in his shoulder, shutting my eyes in exhaustion.

Peeta catches me off-guard, moving my hair aside to kiss my neck, eliciting a flare of heat in the place where his lips brush my skin, and I may not know exactly how I feel, but I know in that moment exactly what I want right now.

“The only person I want to be with tonight is you,” I whisper honestly, looking up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to somehow understand an emotion I don’t know how to admit. “The only person I want right now is you, Peeta.”

[kim-miri]

HALF(have a little fun) pt. ix

→ one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight

→ Sayomi Zoldyck is the eldest child and twin sister to Illumi, of the renowned Zoldyck family of assassins. At the age of ten she’s taken away to Meteor City by her mother, Kikyo Zoldyck, unbeknownst to the rest of the family, as well as newborn Killua, and left to fend for herself. This is the story of the long-lost Zoldyck and those she becomes acquainted with, all while she just wants to have a little fun.

» part nine / ?

» pairing: eventually - chrollo x oc x feat. hisoka

» warnings: swearing, blood/violence, minor angst

» a/n: short chapter D:! edit: i’ve tried and tried but it just doesn’t flow right when i try to make this into an x reader:// HALF will be an oc fic and i’ve decided to cut the backstory here;( thanks for the love and support!

» word count: 2,494

☾ix. pt. ix: youth

3 months later

Loud, bass-bumping music and too many flashing lights fueled the exhilaration and excitement of one of the biggest night clubs in Yorknew City.

Sayomi had defeated her second opponent on the 200th floor with the help of Hisoka’s training earlier today, making this little outing a sad excuse for a celebration.

In reality, Hisoka just wanted to see whether Sayomi could dance or not.

He had insisted they go out and experience the nightlife the city had to offer, and with Sayomi still upbeat from her match, they found themselves sneaking into Octagon- a hip club located in the heart of Yorknew City.

Though technically Hisoka was 21 and therefore could have gone about this in an easier way, he insisted they sneak in ‘just for the fun of it’. The truth was that he’d been kicked out of the club previously after using his ‘magic tricks’ to make people’s arms disappear, but it made his intrusion all the more fun.

As Hisoka watched the floor from his spot at the bar with a drink held loosely in one hand, Sayomi was currently lost in a crowd of passionate clubbers, her violet eyes gleaming with the thrill of the environment.

The black and silver dress she wore highlighted her figure as well as electrifying eyes and hair, the metallic material dazzling under the club lights as she lost herself in the music and people.

She was letting herself go for the night like she often did on her chaotic trips to the city with Hisoka. Free from repressive parents or a fight for her life, Sayomi was at peace with her new life, expressing herself however she wanted to.

Draining the rest of his Cosmopolitan, Hisoka’s eyes shifted to the young assassin, his face remaining expressionless as he watched her draw a crowd with her alluring glow. 

He’d been staring so intensely he didn’t even notice a man take the seat next to him. The sound of the man’s voice established his presence, yet Hisoka’s line of sight ceased to drift from the girl with the bright silver hair.

“A stunner isn’t she?”

Hisoka blinked slowly, hardly registering the man’s words. A stunner indeed, but what more? “A pretty face doesn’t mean a pretty soul.”

The man laughed, setting his drink down on the bar to face Hisoka. “I take it she isn’t yours then? That’s a relief.”

Hisoka rested his chin in the palm of one of his finely manicured hands, his other tapping on the smooth surface of the bar impatiently. He couldn’t seem to figure out why his bloodlust was seeping through as he followed Sayomi with his eyes.

His? She could never belong to any man, she was her own person.

“Careful with your words there, I’d hate for them to be your last.” His words were venomous, filled with the intent to kill.

Hisoka’s nails had cut through the skin of his own cheek, his other hand clenched into a fist on the bar’s surface.

The man had shifted away from him, quietly taking his leave as he watched crimson seep down Hisoka’s pale fingers.

Over the past 3 months, he’d been able to fight her more than enough times, and now he no longer felt the same intoxicating feeling when he was with her. Sayomi never fought Hisoka to hurt him, only with the intentions of improving her own skills, which in turn left Hisoka aching for more.

However, as the days progressed he was slowly coming to the conclusion that the Zoldyck girl had an undeniable flaw. She doesn’t put up a fight when I’m with her.

He was losing interest in the girl who’d once swayed his unshakable feelings, and it distressed him that he almost felt bad for wanting to leave her behind.

His sharpened fingernails dug farther into the pale skin of his cheek as he watched Sayomi throw her slender arms around a man she’d only just met. 

She was laughing and smiling, her silky voice seeming to reach his ears through the music and cheers from where he sat. Loud and clear, the sound of her laughter rang through Hisoka’s head in an almost painful way.

She was becoming a weakness to the man who believed himself to be the strongest, and that didn’t sit right with him at all.

☾ix.

Sayomi wasn’t too sure of what exactly it was that she felt towards Hisoka.

When he took her to dinner with an amazing view or complimented her progress with training, she couldn’t tell whether it was her lack of social contact or actual feelings that led her heart to race when she saw his face.

It didn’t help that on some days she could notice the way his voice softened when he spoke to her, only to leave her heart stinging with his harsh words on other days.

He was taking mixed signals to the next level, playing with her feelings while he was trying to figure out his own.

It was selfish and cruel, falsely gaining the trust of someone who’d been through so much betrayal, all for his own entertainment.

But that was just who Hisoka was, he didn’t care for distractions or hindrances. And as fast as he’d first fallen for the young assassin, he was already in the process of making himself forget her.

He was moving on.

☾ix.

3 months later

It was the day after Sayomi’s 7th match on the 200th floor of Heaven’s Arena. She’d been scheduling her fights randomly, with no regard for who her opponents would be.

With 7 wins under her name, she only needed 3 more to challenge a floor master. 

However, with her longtime goal fast approaching, she wasn’t as happy as she thought she’d be.

It’d been about half a year since Sayomi had first met Hisoka, and all the excitement and jitters about spending time alone with a guy had died down. 

It’d also helped that for some reason Hisoka was rather occupied recently. He rarely took her out to the city, claiming he had other business to attend to, and when they did go out, he’d always turn in first mumbling that he was tired.

Sayomi was no fool, she knew that Hisoka was either losing interest in her as well or felt his job was almost through. To herself, she hoped that it was the former, for it would hurt less than to find out he’d only been around her for business purposes.

Regardless, Sayomi’s current situation was puzzling. She stood waiting for what seemed like forever in front of Hisoka’s room, ready to go out and train.

However, after knocking more than enough times and even calling his cell, there was no sign of her trainer. 

That’s odd.

Sayomi trained on her own that day, taking it upon herself to get strength training in at the gym.

It was the first time she’d spent an entire day without Hisoka since they’d started training. Deciding that he was out on his so-called ‘business’, Sayomi shrugged away his absence, going to sleep early for the first time in a while.

Yet, another day passed with no sign of the magician, and Sayomi began to grow concerned for his well-being. What if he was picked off by someone? No, he’s too strong to lose to anyone here… Did he pass out in his room?

Sayomi walked briskly to Hisoka’s room with a worried mind.

Once again there was no response to her knocking, and she decided she’d break into the room.

Using one of her longer needles, she picked the lock in no time, stepping into the unfamiliar room. 

It was empty. Only the faint smell of bubble gum and something sweet lingered in the abandoned room, the closet and space empty.

There was a note left on the cleanly made bed, the red ink standing out from the otherwise white sheets surrounding the note.

That lazy ass, of course he’d leave a note in his own room. 

Picking up the sheet, she read:

Zoldyck-

It’s about time you sneak into my room, I know you’ve thought about doing it before;) 

But jokes aside… 

I’m sorry, darling. 

It’s not like me to apologize(you can ask Kite)and that alone scared me, because I feel like you’ve changed me. Your smile and intoxicating eyes make me weak in the knees…

And I despise myself for it. 

I’m not sure why I’ve chosen to expose my faults to you, for that just makes you all the more dangerous to me.

But perhaps I want you to hold my weaknesses, and perhaps I’d like to see you come tear me apart. Yes, that must be it. 

I’ve departed Yorknew City to meet up with your twin brother, as it seems as though he’s been searching for you. And perhaps I should have taken him to you instead, but I’m not, because when the time is right I’d like you all to myself.

So don’t forgive me, Sayomi. Resent me, grow stronger, and when the time comes I’ll bring your brother back to you.

Ah, and there is one thing I’d always wanted to tell you… 

I always thought that you were most beautiful when you showed your true colors-

A cold-blooded, cold-hearted Zoldyck assassin with no regard for the pain and suffering of your victims.

Stop holding yourself back, people like us can be forgiven for our sins because of the hell we’ve been put through. 

-Hisoka 

☾ix.

A single tear rolled down Sayomi’s cheek. 

And that was all.

The flurry of sudden information rendered Sayomi breathless as she tried to make sense of his words.

This idiot really just admitted his feelings for me after all this time right when he decides to leave me here. Selfish bastard.

And he knows Illumi… but how? Illumi was looking for me? 

I have to become a floor master and get that clown to bring my brother back.

☾ix.

6 months later

Sayomi gazed out her window with a blank stare, 241 floors above the ground.

Just a week ago she’d claimed her spot on the 241st floor as the newest and youngest Floor Master at age 19.

She knew Hisoka would find out about her achievement soon, and all she could do now was wait.

Up until defeating and killing her last opponent, time had flown by easily. She was fueled by the goal of finding her brother and confronting Hisoka, but now that she was here, the loneliness began to sink in.

Kite and his student had taken off to another country in search of wildlife to study, leaving Sayomi all alone in Yorknew City.

She couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of her situation. Here she was at the top of the tallest building in Yorknew City, a place that others died trying to get to, yet she was unsatisfied.

Her face and name were plastered on billboards and posters all throughout the city, and citizens stood envious of the young teen’s life. She had enough money that she’d never have to work another day in her life, but in exchange she no longer had a family to accept her nor friends to laugh with.

Don’t feel sorry for yourself, there’s plenty of others that have it worse.

Sayomi sighed as she turned away from the window, grabbing her mask she’d started using as a floor master to attempt to conceal her identity. 

I won’t have challengers for another month or so… might as well hit the city.

☾ix.

Sayomi walked through the dark streets of Yorknew City, her hands clasped behind her head and her eyes vacant.

She didn’t have a destination in mind, just mindlessly strolling through the city covered with news of her promotion to Floor Master. There were citizens recognizing her as well, pointing and jumping back as if she were some monster.

Though she couldn’t blame them, as her nen happened to be on the disturbing side. The replays of her fights were mostly censored, deemed too inhumane for the public eye as they played on repeat on the sides of buildings,

She wasn’t too sure how far she’d walked, spotting Heaven’s Arena rather far in the distance behind her. The shops and glamorous hotels began to fade as she approached the run down parts of Yorknew City.

It was an abandoned lot of buildings, the ground littered with oil cans and shattered glass. In a way it was tranquil, free from angry drivers and the revolted gaze of commoners.

Walking through an opening in the wired fences that surrounded the lot, Sayomi wandered through a certain building that’d caught her eye.

She felt a faint aura coming from the abandoned office building, but oddly enough it wasn’t hostile or repelling. It was rather comforting.

Sayomi’s curiosity grew as the aura increased, drawing her towards the room located at the far end of the first floor.

She saw the man before she sensed him, his large coat catching her attention. His back was turned to her crouched down on the dusty floor, the windows adjacent to him shattered, letting the pale moonlight reflect off of his coat.

St. Peter’s cross. Interesting taste in fashion…

Another careless step closer and the man’s head turned abruptly in her direction. Sayomi had ducked behind a wall, but not fast enough.

The man stood from his spot, revealing a vibrant patch of violets by his feet. Upon his loss in concentration, the flowers wilted, withering back into the cluttered floor as if they’d never been there in the first place.

Sayomi could see the man’s face from where she crouched, hidden by a barely intact wall. Her heart skipped a beat upon meeting his eyes, deep gray and captivating as he easily identified her from her hiding spot.

It felt as if time was frozen in place, the young man staring intensely into Sayomi’s eyes as if he could read her mind. 

Sayomi was unmoving as well, having been caught examining his figure from behind the wall. He was by far the most appealing man she’d ever seen, his dark, raven hair slicked back to reveal a tattoo decorating the middle of his forehead, contrasting with his gentle eyes and youthful facial features. 

Handsome, she thought. 

The man took a slight step forward, snapping Sayomi out of his hypnotizing gaze as she sped off jumping through an empty window and out of the building. 

Though she was eager to know what he’d been doing with the flowers, his aura had changed when he’d noticed her watching. It had been dangerous and intense, a total opposite of his warm and placid one when dealing with the violets.

Her quick steps transitioned into a run, feeling the need to distance herself from the lingering intensity of the mysterious young man’s aura.

She ran back towards the towering building of Heaven’s Arena, not stopping her pace a bit until she was met with the familiar neon signs and billboards that surrounded the heart of Yorknew City.

Her dreams were taken over by the man’s captivating eyes that night. His familiar aura had seemed to beckon her to him, as if she’d known him for 100 years prior. 

But no matter how hard she thought that night, she couldn’t come up with an answer as to what he’d been doing with the violets conjured by his feet. 

In her dreams she saw her own eyes within the vibrant flowers, it was an abstract thought, though for a second she wondered if he had meant for her to see them. 

She quickly dismissed this, however, scoffing at the absurdity of her own thoughts. 

What am I, a child? I must be beyond lonely if I think some random guy has something to do with me.

Though deep down inside her heart, she wished it were true. To be fated to somebody, needed by somebody who she could trust with her darkest secrets and love.

☾ix.

to be continued.

[chyrstis]

WIP Friday!

I’ve had some tags throughout the week, so I’m going to cash them all in here, since Friday’s the day and I might’ve been hoping to get this posted last night too, whoops! And I want to thank you all for tagging me even if I don’t always respond quickly! <3 I definitely intend to, but there’s never enough time in a day or a week, is there? 

Tagged by @redroci @tommymillers @jackiesarch @ma-sulevin and @amistrio and @adelaidedrubman !

Tagging: @writerofblocks @twistedsinews @painterofhorizons @hunnybadgerv @cobb-vanthss @shallow-gravy @nightwingshero @ma-sulevin @shellibisshe @jackalopestride @unlikelynick @geronimo-11 @fluttyseed @fadedjacket @weekend-writer @starsandskies @faithchel @belorage @tomexraider @consumedkings @vasiktomis @chazz-anova @aceghosts @ofravensandgenesis @scarlettkat86 (and if you’re already posted WIPs, don’t mind me one bit! no obligation or pressure’s ever intended)

First, a snippet from Lighting the Fuse’s Ch. 2 which I’d love to edit up and post this weekend, so here’s hoping I can kick myself in the butt hard enough to pull it off? *crosses fingers*

---

“Not tonight, hon. Not tonight.” Propping herself back up on her elbows, she gave him a smile. “You’re here now, though. So…how about it?”

“How about what?”

“You ask,” she replied, giving him a lazy smile. “Since I’m clearly on the cusp of benching you if you don’t.”

Sharky clapped his mouth shut. Stood there, rooted to the ground and didn’t let out a single peep. 

That boggled her completely. “Seriously, hon? Nothing?”

It was dark, but Hana could almost swear he was a shade of red darker than her hair right now. “You uh…. See I didn’t think it was-maybe you being asleep kinda threw off my groove a bit.”

Hana blinked at him. Watched a crooked smile settle onto his face as he let a nervous chuckle out.

“Like, like I mean I was gonna-was thinking of maybe doing this sorta-” His words trailed off as he clenched his teeth, swallowed hard, and let out a long exhale.  “Okay, so maybe this shit isn’t exactly-”

A loud sigh came from her left directly from the radio, and the sound filled the entire room.

“…Wait, what the fuck?” Sharky asked, his eyes darting everywhere as he tried to pinpoint where it was coming from. “You hear that?”

Clenching her fists, Hana slowly let her hands relax as she let the tension out. “Unfortunately.”

“Deputy, Deputy, Deputy. I know you’re listening. But I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose. I thought you wanted my attention. Would’ve been glad to finally have it undivided, and yet you deny me the pleasure of hearing a single response in turn. How…cruel.”

---

And a bit more of the Hana/Sharky one-shot I’ve been chipping away at, that’s actually getting really close to being finished too. I just need to jot down a few more moments for it and see if these two can actually clam up long enough to let me finish

---

“Yo, it’s not like I’ve been there any longer than a few days at a time, and half of the shit they’ve dragged me down to the jail for’s legal, just not in any of the spots I ended up doing it.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, which is just fucking stupid seeing as lighting a fire by my house’s fine, but if it gets out to the street and catches on the trees ‘cause it’s extra dry out and the wind’s blowing, suddenly I gotta go in ‘cause I’m negligent or some shit. Then the po-po’s claiming I gotta have a permit to burn in the drier seasons, but it rains fucking plenty here.”

He’d draped his arm over her shoulders by this point, the motion coming so easily from him she hadn’t even noticed at first. Just nestled right into that warmth almost on reflex as Sharky kept on talking, and didn’t want to budge an inch if she could help it.

“Man, it’ll be the driest stretch of the year, and the sky’ll just open up and drop a bucket-load on us ‘cause it’s feeling it, but even if it don’t, anything I start’ll get put out. Just ‘cause I’m around doesn’t mean shit’s gonna go down, or nothing. ‘Cause then phone calls are made, people start looking at me funny, and I’m getting pulled out of my car for jack and shit when maybe I just wanted to take a breather there. Maybe get in a few Zs, take five to ten to jerk it, and they don’t gotta watch that too closely if I’m doing it either.”

She’d been nodding along with him, then stopped. Let that statement sink in as her eyebrows drew together before they rose high on her face.

“…Hon, that’s not legal.”

“Aw, come on, Dep! Don’t tell me there’s some kinda permit for parking out-“

“No, not that. You’d probably get slapped with a ticket or fine, sure, but it’s more about the fact that you were  beating it there.”

“It’s indoors.”

That response came quick enough for her to tilt her head back to look at him. To side-eye him heavily as he shrugged, and damn. She’d curled up to him a lot closer than she’d initially thought. Close enough to-

She cleared her throat.

---

And a little more of the No Cult AU, maybe? ...I may have watched Speed again last night entirely due to this. and it might also be up to almost 8K in length as well, pre-edits, so... Help 

---

But that didn’t solve the other problem. Towing it.

A truck would’ve been their best bet, but with him already there it didn’t make sense to try and scrape together cash for a tow truck, or to fire off a call to anyone down at the compound. His car had been used to drag Sr’s truck out of more than a few ditches without tearing the frame up, so this wasn’t a stretch to consider, and leaving them hanging now would’ve just been a shit thing to do when they didn’t even have a working phone or forty bucks between them. 

And while he’d never been able to get a tow bar to last more than a few months max, he had a few solid workarounds that could still get the job done. One of which he’d seen in a commercial a while back. 

He knew it almost by heart at this point, and cool as it’d be to fix their problem by just whipping his pants off and tying their vehicles together with them to help tow them to the compound, he’d gone down that road before. Hell, not just once, but twice now, and considering he’d been left between getting pepper sprayed and arrested, or having a busted set of jeans and his ass hanging out for the rest of the day, he wasn’t sure he liked where that left him on round number three.

Besides these were a well-worn pair, and they seriously didn’t make them like they used to. Long as he tried not to get too creative with them, they had more than a few good years in them yet. So after some sifting and digging through the trunk of his car, Sharky kept his fingers crossed that he’d find an actual tow strap back there. He and Hurk had been through this dance enough times before that he knew he had one, and crossed his fingers that he hadn’t left it over at Sr.’s place. 

Sure enough, there it was. Fucking majestic, and almost crumpled in the back, Sharky withdrew one perfect tow strap and broke out a few moves to celebrate it before hitching the two together. 

Once it was secure, he told them all to hop in, and while trying to cram one extra person into his car was tough three other people might’ve been pushing it. John regularly had the best seat in the house and still hardly made it more than a few miles before fussing at him, and here they were double - and triple stacking themselves in any spare space in order to take a seat. Man, he was already thinking up ways to relay this story to Hurk later on, but with them semi-settled and packed safe as they could be, he fired the engine up and got them all back on the road. 

It wasn’t a far drive out to Joseph’s but he took his time with it. Drove the slowest he’d ever attempted short of being twelve and behind the wheel for the first time, trying to be extra gentle with it all as the van lumbered behind them.

If he went too fast, they’d tear the back of his car off and lose it. If they hit the brakes too hard, they’d get rammed, so he needed to nail that sweet spot. Keep from tipping from one end over into the other as he played his very own version of Speed out on this stretch of road, watching that needle dance back and forth over that perfect point as he started to sweat a little under his cap.

But he had this. Pressed his foot down on the gas and let up when he needed to, exercising the kind of control that even John would give a silent nod of approval to - which would almost make him the Keanu to his Sandra, except John wasn’t there and currently trying to crawl under any of this shit to keep a bomb from going off - but whatever, it was close enough.

So he watched the mile markers fly by as they got closer and closer to the island, and by the time they rolled through the gate and came to a stop, Sharky let out whatever breath he’d started holding, and didn’t even care when the van nearly smashed into them on the home stretch anyway.  

[waatermelon-sugaar]

Cold

Pairing = Santiago x reader

Summary = You get too cold on a mission and there’s only one bed in the building where you have to camp out for a couple of days...

Warnings = Fluff, mutual pining, near death situation (??kinda - I mean there’s danger), partial nudity (non-sexual but with sexy pining), huddling for warmth, only one bed, many many compromising positions

Word count = 6458

A/N - so this is my first fic i’ve ever finished! Eeee!!! I’m quite pleased with it, but please let me know what you all think! Also it combines two of my favourite fic tropes ever because of course it does haha. 

Edit = Now cross-posted to AO3!

Masterlist

You were in trouble. Feeling the chill setting in your bones, it was harder and harder to lift your legs. Your teeth were now only occasionally chattering, and it was only the shivers running up and down your body which reassured you that you didn’t have hypothermia. Yet. 

The path you and Pope had found wound through the trees as you walked towards the setting sun. Despite the ferocious cold, you couldn’t help but admire the landscape you were in, the dark contrast of the tree bark offsetting the brillant, deadly white. Snow hung from every available surface, causing branches to hang low with the weight. 

You were more used to the warm - it was weird completing a bust in Canada of all places. But it had been going so well, all the drugs and money accounted for, no surprises, all packed up to fly out when the surrounding forest became alive. The timing had been misjudged or miscounted, you had no idea, all you knew was that the 6 of you had to get out of the building as fast as possible. 

You’d instinctively found Pope to your left when the first shot had rang out, and amid all the chaos and shouting the two of you were running outside, taking down anyone in your way, not stopping to see if the others had followed you.

Gradually the popping sounds of gunfire and hand grenades had become muffled as it began to snow. You waited as long and as close to the house as you dared, but hadn’t seen the others. Restraining Pope from running back inside to find Catfish and the others had broken your heart, all you’d wanted was to run back in with Pope and find them, but the logical side of your brain knew that you shouldn’t.

“Pope! No!” Your shouts were hushed as you pushed at Pope, you didn’t dare grab someone’s attention, but Pope needed to listen to you, he had a wild look in his eyes that you’d only seen once before. “If you go back you’re as good as dead and no use to anyone!”

You’d fought with Pope before, you’d fought against all the boys in training sessions and knew their moves almost as well as they did. You’d yet to fight against one of them in real life, and it shocked you that although Pope’s moves wouldn’t seriously hurt you, he still wasn’t listening.

You knocked behind his right knee, conscious that the left one had only just healed from the previous mission, causing Pope to fall to the floor. He was still struggling against you, all lithe hard muscle and intent. Holding one arm around his neck to gently constrict his airways, you pushed down on his shoulders, forcing him to remain kneeling on the ground, your body blocking his view of the house as he glared at your stomach.

“Listen!” He stopped struggling against you but his shoulders still held all his tension as you put your mouth next to his ear. “They’re good at what they do, they might have got out. We need to reach the rendezvous position - they’ll meet us there. They don’t need us killing ourselves when they might be fine.”

Deciding to risk letting go of you, you relaxed your hold, kneeling in front of him as you grasp his shoulders, Pope sinking back onto his heels, his eyes finally focusing on you, still agitated. “You think they’ve got out?”

“They’re good agents, I trust them. You have to as well.” Pope knew you were talking sense. He also knew that you were good at pushing emotion down on a mission, not feeling things until afterwards. The number of times he’d comforted you back home, the way you looked before you were about to cry, how you dealt with guilt, fingers picking at your nail beds… he shook his head, not wanting to think of that now.

Instead he focused on your face now, your mouth set in a line, eyes gazing into his, waiting for him to confirm the exit route. When he nodded, you exhaled, and the two of you stood, setting off to the east.

As the day had continued it had begun to snow, harder and harder, until you realised that you were lost. Ditching your heavier packs and only taking the bare minimum had made it easier to walk however the temperature continued to drop, and worry chewed in your mind as you kept going, unsure of where you were heading until Pope had spotted the small cabin across the way.

As the sun set further and further beyond the horizon, turning the sky a deep purple, making it harder and harder to see, although it had thankfully stopped snowing. “Pope,” God your voice was hoarse. Had it always been so hard to open your mouth? The air that hit the back of your throat was painful, but you tried again. “Santiago!” A couple of steps in front of you, Santi turned.

The bottom half of his face was covered by a balaclava, which only served to make his eyes more intense as they looked you over. He was cold too; you could see it in the way he held himself, shoulders lifted and bent knees. The little skin you could see had lost a lot of its warmth, and now you’d caught up to him you could see that ice crystals clung to his eyebrows and eyelashes.

“Santi, w-wh-where - how far is th-this house?” Your mouth was stiff and the effort it took to move your tongue had never been so immense. Your voice was quiet, and as the two of you continued moving, you missed the concerned look Pope shot at you, instead concentrating on one foot in front of the other, despite how fuzzy your brain felt. “It shouldn’t be long now. May-maybe half an hour?” Pope was trying as hard as you were to push down his shivers, but you merely nodded in reply, not trusting your voice.

You shifted the small pack on your back as something dug into you, and the lapse in concentration on where you were going caused you to stumble. Pope was talking to you again, warm words washing over you but not going in. You were too cold to concentrate, your steps becoming heavier, and you felt like you might fall forward into the snow and never get up again.

You’re glad the two of you had made the decision to ditch your heavier packs once it had started snowing, the weight would probably cause you to topple over. Both you and Pope had pulled the hood up of your dark jackets, but it didn’t help alleviate the fogginess that was growing in your mind.

A dull pressure from the cold had begun at the base of your head, sending a throbbing through your skull. You became aware that Santi was holding onto your elbow, supporting you, though when he had begun, you couldn’t have said. And then you were standing in front of a building as your teeth continued to chatter and violent shivers tore their way up and down your body. More like a shack, the building was small and made entirely of wood, a warm brown, that looked so inviting.

You didn’t notice much else as Pope led you inside, sitting you down on the bed before disappearing. You were sure you saw his lips move, but you couldn’t remember. Everything was such a big effort and if you lay down on this bed with its cool inviting sheets, everything would fade away. You knew it would. All you could think about was the thin, needle-like points of pain shooting through your head, eradicating anything else.

When Pope returned, he was carrying neatly chopped wood, which he dropped to one side as he began to clean up the fireplace, clearing out old ash, charcoal and dust, before placing the wood down and neatly arranging the twigs so that the whole thing would light. Careful not to disturb the small pile of ash he’d made on the hearth, Pope set light to the fire. Watching carefully for a minute to ensure it had caught, he turned back to you.

You were still sitting in the same place Pope had put you, and he couldn’t help the pang of worry over your core temperature. You had easily bypassed the mild stage of hypothermia, he knew that much, if your confusion and lack of motor control was anything to go by, but beyond that, he wasn’t sure of the symptoms.

Making his way over to you, he began to unwrap you from your coat, pulling down your hood and untucking your plaits, and if his fingers lingered a moment longer than necessary on your cold hair, you didn’t notice. Hanging your coat on the hook by the door, hoping it would dry by the time you needed it tomorrow, he picked his own coat from the floor and placed it next to yours.

Santi removed your boots, and outer trousers, deciding to leave you in your thermal underwear, as the fire had not yet fully warmed the room. He scooped snow outside into a pan, placing it on the stove above the fire and not trusting the rusty looking tap in the corner. Returning back to you, he wrapped the blanket that had been at the foot of the bed around your shoulders, tucking you in before leading you to the fire.

Pope could still see that your lips had lost their colour and the skin on your face was cool to the touch. Leaving you there, Pope busied himself making soup for the two of you, using the water created from the snow and stirring in soup from a packet. The water began to bubble, and gradually Pope found himself relaxing as the room began to warm up.

Dishing the soup into two bowls, he sat down in front of you noted with happiness that a bit of colour had come back into your cheeks. You were still shivering, but not so much, and your eyes seemed a fraction more alert. “Careful, it’s hot” he warns you, and is gratified to see a small smile, causing his heart to stutter in his chest. “Thanks Santi.” It’s easier to speak now, though your voice is still quiet from a lack of energy.

The pressure at the base of your neck had lifted slightly, but the headache was still present. As you sipped at the soup, you could feel it inside you, almost burning down your throat and gently warming your stomach. The fire was getting hotter, and almost burning your skin, yet you didn’t feel any warmer inside and kept shivering. Moving away slightly, the cool air in the rest of the room soothed you slightly, and you concentrated on not spilling any more of your soup.  

Eventually you’d finished eating and it was all you could do to keep your eyes open. Pope tugged the bowl from your hands and helped you into the bed, tucking the duvet under you, reminiscent of how your parents had done to you as a child. You blearily watched through tired eyes as he loaded the fire with enough wood to last the night and turned the stove off. Before you knew it, the bed was dipping on the other side and Pope was taking his outer layer of jumpers off, leaving him in the same style thermals that you were wearing.

Closing your eyes, you tried to go to sleep, but it seems your body did not want to. Your feet felt like blocks of ice, and you tried to rub them together without annoying Pope. Placing your cool hands under your armpits you try to warm them that way but to little success. Maybe you should have some more soup...

“Hey,” you turn, opening your eyes to see Pope looking at you, and you shiver, unable to keep eye contact. Your legs are still cold, and you once again try and rub them together to warm them up. “Take your clothes off” he commands quietly. The words hang in the space between you, only interrupted by the occasional crack from the fire still burning behind you. You laugh lightly to try and dispel the tension. “You know, I thought you were a sw-sweet t-t-talker when-n it comes to the ladies” You’re desperately trying to ignore the chattering of your teeth as you talk, and in the dim orange lighting you merely see Pope raise a singular, very sexy, eyebrow.

And then he’s moving, sitting up as he pulls his top off and drops it somewhere behind him, causing you to swallow when he starts to remove his thermal trousers. And when he’s done, he turns to you and “Your turn. You’ll warm up faster. I’ll be a massive hot water bottle for you.”

And you nod, because there’s nothing else to do, and because of course that was why he wanted you to take your clothes off, and you sit up, trying to ignore the tiny pang of disappointment in your chest. As you’re pulling your top above your head you suddenly feel a little embarrassed about the sports bra you’re wearing, and although it would be uncomfortable, you kind of wish you had something a little nicer on.

You copy his previous movements as you take your leggings off, your movements as fast as you can as the air in the room is still cold, sending more shivers through you and causing your hands to tremble. And again, you try to ignore the feeling of disappointment as he resolutely doesn’t look at you until you’re safely under the covers again. You try to tell yourself that it’s good that he respects you enough to not take advantage of you while you're vulnerable, that it’s unfeminist of you to want him to, because he should respect you as a person, he should respect your privacy.  

And by wanting him to look at you in a sexual way, despite this being a distinctly non-sexual situation, are you playing into rape culture? Or lad culture? Your brain hurts just thinking about it, and you try to push it out of your mind when Pope speaks again.

“Is this ok?” His words are only a little louder than a breath when the two of you face each other again. And again you can only nod as he opens his arms, and you move forward, trying to take a deep breath to calm yourself as your heart feels as though it will burst out of your chest.

You gently put your head in the space between his neck and the pillow, trying not to put too much weight on the arm underneath you. And you can smell his aftershave that he uses, still clinging to his skin, a pleasant contrast to the smoke from the fire. Your nose is buried in the crook of his neck, your lips nearly touching his skin and if you leaned forward just a centimetre more… But there’s more than that primal urge, his skin is so warm on your face, you can feel the heat transferred from his skin to your cool cheeks, relaxing you as you intermittently shake from the cold.

And then he brings his other arm around you, pulling you closer and closer, and all you can feel is Santi. His rough fingers curling into your back as he holds you as close as he can, and you can feel the muscle under his soft warm chest. You can feel how his heart beats, the steady thump calming you.

You bring your legs in, and nearly jump when they touch Santi’s, the hair tickling you a little. And your arm is over his side, and your fingers are dancing softly up and down his back, occasionally catching a scar as you stroke him. And if you apply a little more pressure, just so, he hums, low at the base of his throat, and you think you’d almost miss the sound if your ears weren’t so close to his vocal cords.

And he’s so warm, and so comfy, and god he smells so good, despite not having had a shower for 24 hours. And your breath begins to even out and your eyes start to droop, and Santi rests his chin delicately on the top of your head as your hand starts to slow. You’re both exhausted, the day has been longer than you’d anticipated and the two of you fall asleep curled together.

When you wake early in the morning, you realise that during the night the two of you had moved so that you were spooning, but you weren’t as close anymore. When you realised this, you began to carefully scoot backwards, not wanting to wake Santi, but wanting to feel his warmth again. As your back touches his chest he automatically moves, reaching his arm over so his hand is on the little pouch at the bottom of your stomach. The movement brings a small smile to your face, especially when you realise that you’re no longer shivering, and you feel warm again.

And you never want to move anywhere ever again. If this was how you died, you’d be happy. Lying in Santi’s arms after he’d warmed you up the night before, still too groggy to worry about the day ahead, you fell back asleep.

When you wake the second time, the sun has fully risen and is beaming through the gaps in the shutters which cover the small dusty windows. The light illuminates more dust notes floating in the air and for the first time you take note of your surroundings. You’ve clearly stumbled across a hunter’s cabin, if the numerous antlers and deer heads on the wall are anything to go by, and you’re surprised that you didn’t notice them last night. You can see the pile of blankets by the still-smouldering fire where you sat last night, the soup bowls abandoned haphazardly to one side.

The fireplace was split in two, one side for an open fire, and the other for a stove, where you could see Pope’s back as he busied himself and a rich smell of porridge filled the room. He hadn’t put his clothes back on, and your eyes unwillingly drop to admire his bum, encased in his boxers. Ripping your eyes away, you look instead at how the room itself was split into two, with the bed at the back, creating the illusion of a bedroom, while a kitchen style was created by the combination of the fire, stove, and table. The deer theme continued here, antlers extending from the tops of the chairs, creating what looked like many poor attempts to recreate the iron throne.

There’s a slight bite to the air, a kind of crisp chill that you only feel after it’s freshly snowed, and when you sit to get out of bed, you hiss sharply when your bare feet touch the cold floor. At the noise, Pope turns around, his hair still a little mussed from sleep. “Sleep alright?” He asks, and you suddenly feel exposed as his eyes look at you and then resolutely focus on a spot above your shoulder. “Yeah so much better. You’re the best hot water bottle I’ve ever had, can I take you home with me?” You’re only teasing and yet when Pope replies “I don’t go home with just anyone, you know,” you lean down as heat rushes through your body and you pull yesterday’s clothes on, trying not to show how hot under the collar Pope can make you. Especially when he’s basically naked.

Once your socks are on, you can just about bear to walk over the cold wooden floor and join Pope at the stove, watching him divide the porridge into two portions. On one he pours an extremely generous amount of honey, while the other he leaves plain. Giving you the one with the honey, he sits at the table. “Is there any reason you gave me more honey than porridge?” You ask as you stir it in, sitting opposite him, and trying not to think about his hands, clasped around his bowl, and how nice those hands felt on you last night.

He scoffs before he replies, “Because you need the sugar.” There’s a pregnant pause before he elaborates. “You were too cold last night. You need to get your energy back up.” And despite the excessive amounts of honey, the porridge is nice, warming you, and Pope’s right, you do feel better and more alert once you’ve finished it. 

Not that you’d tell him as such. Although… “I actually wanted to say thanks for yesterday.” Pushing the bowl away, you lean on your elbows on the table and look at Santi, admiring the way his salt and pepper curls are in more disarray than usual. “You saved my life, thank you.” He looks back, his gaze steady. “You know I’ve got your six, however that might be.” You stand, collecting the breakfast bowls and leaning for the soup bowls too. “Well. Thanks anyway. And you know I’ve got yours too, right?”

He smiled in thanks, and you moved on. “What’s the plan? Do we know where we are?” Pope shook his head, “There’s a map next to the door, but it’s too old to see where we are.” He put his feet up onto the chair opposite him. “I’ve sent out a rescue signal on our trackers though so hopefully someone will come get us.”

You nod, and a sudden wave of tiredness over takes you, so instead of washing the bowls, you place them in the sink and sit back on the bed. You closed your eyes, only meaning to rest them for a minute, when you heard Santi begin to make a lot of noise. Frowning, you watch him as he puts his jacket, trousers and boots back on. “Where are you going?” You gesture out the window “It’s snowing again - I don’t think you’ll see much.”

“I know but I want to check the area. There must be a road or something nearby.” And with that he’s gone, shutting the door behind you and leaving you alone in a warm, if slightly creepy, house. Letting yourself have another second of rest, you forced yourself to get up and poke around. You knew it could easily be 2 hours until you were picked up but it could be 2 days or longer and you needed to know the food situation.

The cupboards were dusty but packed full of canned foods which didn’t go out of date for another year, causing your heart to relax a little and the ball of worry in your stomach to unknot a little. You made yourself a mug of watery hot chocolate to keep you going, adding a little powdered milk to create the illusion of decadence.

You knew it freaked Santi out, not knowing where you were or what to expect, so you didn’t worry too much while he took his time outside, knowing his need for control wouldn’t let him rest until he was 100% happy. That didn’t stop you from worrying about Santi though. He hadn’t been as bad as you yesterday but that didn’t mean he was invincible. When he came back, you’d make him a hot chocolate.

Before you knew it, slight shivers were running up and down your body again, and when you glanced at the fire you realised that it had gone out, so you set to work cleaning out the ash, and replacing the charcoaled wood. Your gloves were grey by the time you finished, but you kept them on. You’d need them when you went outside for more wood. The wood had been neatly chopped and piled into an outdoor shed, which involved pulling on your boots. Groaning at the thought of the effort involved ahead, you shut your eyes for the briefest second.

____________________

By the time the fire was built, you were sweating, but pleased. It had caught well, and although it wasn’t neat, you were proud of yourself. Dropping your gloves to the floor, you got to work on lunch, a stew with an assortment of vegetables from tins which hadn’t looked very appetising but once you’d added some spices the tomato base had started to smell better.

Stirring in water you left it to bubble a little while longer, picking up your gloves and stomping outside. Your breath came out shaky, considering you’d long taken your jacket off and were just wearing your thermals. Beating your gloves against the wall, you attempted to shake the ash off them. “What did those gloves do to you?”

You turned to see Santi approaching, his eyes crinkled from his grin, and glittering as he tried not to laugh. “Well if you must know, they didn’t keep my hands warm today. Or yesterday” you added as an afterthought, trying not to let it show how relieved you were to see him again. You were pouting as you grumbled, though the effect was ruined by a laugh that bubbled out of you after a second. Examining your gloves, you gave up, admitting defeat that they’ll have ash on them until you could get them in a washing machine.

“Did you find anything?” You were only brave enough to ask once the two of you were seated and eating. “Not really. A dirt track leading to a road leading to nowhere. The only signs were to places I’d never heard of.” You snorted, “As if you’ve heard of any towns in Canada.”

“I could name places in Canada.” He protested, but you shook your head. “Not a chance! Name one?” He was smirking now, leaning forwards slightly. “Vancouver.”

You shook your head. “Doesn’t count. That’s a city.” You could see the flicker of panic as he struggled to think of a town not a city. Finally he let out a growl, tugging on his hair in frustration, both of which sent a flood of heat to your stomach as you imagined your fingers in his salt and pepper curls, pulling that noise from him. “Fine! I can only think of Quebec, happy?” He took another spoonful of stew. “This is good by the way, what’s in it?” You opened your mouth to reply when he cut you off. “And anyway, I bet you can’t name a Canadian town.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Want to bet?”

Santi narrowed his eyes as he pointed his spoon at you. “What are we betting?” You grinned as you jumped up, opening the door to one of the cupboards where’d you found a delicious looking bag of marshmallows. His eyes widened greedily at the sight. “No way! We’re not betting those, you clearly know at least one town.”

“Ok let’s say we split these - what will you give me if I know a town?” His eyes flicked up and down you as he appraised you, giving you a pleasant thrill, liking the way he looked at you. “You don’t know a town.” He was drawing his words out slightly, elongating them to exaggerate, playing at sounding confident, trying to see if you were bluffing. “Ok, if I don’t know a town, you can have all these marshmallows. If I do, I get to have the bed to myself tonight.”

You weren’t quite sure why you said that, but the knowledge that Santi would be in the same bed as you again tonight, except this time you wouldn’t be able to touch him was looking to be more than you could bear. “And where will I sleep?” Santi was holding your gaze now, and you knew he was interested. “By the fire,” you shrugged, “Put a few blankets down…” Trailing off, you didn’t dare break eye contact, until Santi finally stuck his hand out. You grasped it, smirking, until he said “Three towns. And if I find out you made one up, 10,000 push ups.”

“You underestimate me Garcia.” Racking your brains for the best names, you began. “Number 1 - Witless Bay - maybe you should visit,” you teased as he scowled slightly. “Number 2 - Big Beaver and number 3 - Spuzzum!”

“No way are they real!” The two of you continued to lightly bicker, Santi swearing he was going to look them up the first chance he got as the afternoon continued and the fire once again beginning to burn itself out.

When you peer out the window, you can’t see further than 20 meters and deciding you didn’t fancy venturing outside, you asked Santi to go out for more wood, promising that you wouldn’t open the packet until he was in the room, that you would save the marshmallows for after dinner.  

You had said that, but surely one marshmallow wouldn’t hurt? You had self control, you could stop after eating one. You were resolutely not looking at the packet at this point, as if turning your nose up wouldn’t make you want to break your promise.

Luckily at that moment Pope walked in, jacket bundled tight under his neck and stamping his boots in the doorway. “Ooh shut the door, all the warm air’s going out.” you hissed as a draft hit you and you crossed your arms. “Aww sorry, darling,” Santi teased you, “is it a waste of energy?” He laughed as you scowled slightly.

“Well actually, yes” you shivered, “and it’s making me cold Pope.” That last sentence was nearly a whine, and you gave him your best puppy dog eyes as you looked up at him. He was still smirking as he took his time piling up the wood and taking his jacket off before closing the door. The cheek of this man!

Huffing in indignation, you grabbed the packet of marshmallows and began to speak “Well if I’m going to get cold again, I may as well just eat all these marshmallows by myself. I don’t sha-” You shrieked as Pope whirled around at your words and began to chase towards you.

Scrabbling to get to your feet in time, you made a dash for the bed and yelped as Pope grabbed at the back of your shirt, struggling to get a hold. You tripped on one of your boots, stubbing your toe, causing you to curse and drop the bag on the floor. Pope was too fast for you, scooping to get a hold before you could react. He took a step backwards, holding the bag tauntingly below his face. “You” you growled, as Santi smirked, sure that he had the upper hand, “give them back now!” And with that you launched yourself at Pope, who definitely hadn’t been expecting that and stumbled back, falling atop the bed.

Straddling Pope’s waist, you leaned forward and grabbed the marshmallows easily, even as Santi attempted to hold the bag out of your reach. Grinning down at him, and holding the bag aloft, you suddenly realised the position the two of you were in, especially when Pope attempted to grab the bag back, and, failing that, rested his hand on your waist.

And, oh, how easy would it be to just move your hips down and grind a little. How easy would it be to lean forwards and kiss Santi on his plump lips. His dark eyes were watching you closely, and you swallowed at the sudden pressure of the situation. But if Pope could treat you with respect, then you could definitely respect him and the friendship the two of you had.

So you pushed yourself off him, looking at the fire as you awkwardly flicked your plaits away from your face. You bustle over to the stove, missing the disappointed look that flashes across his face. Pulling out a can of chopped tomatoes, you fiddle with the opener as you turn back around. “Should we eat dinner first?” Santi nods, sighing as he supposes that actual adults would eat dinner first. He has a strange look in his eyes as he watches you pour the tomatoes into a frying pan, switching the hob on and rooting through the cupboards as you try and think of a recipe with what’s available.

“What are you making?” Santi still hasn’t moved from the bed, propping himself up with his elbows as you pull out varying cans, each with their own unappetising label. “Dunno. Another stew type thing I guess. There’s some sweetcorn here, and some canned sausages, aanndd… ahaha! ‘New chopped and peeled potatoes in water’ Urgh” Placing the numerous tins on the floor next to you, you continue nosing around. “Doesn’t that sound disgusting?” Your voice is muffled somewhat when you put your head into the cupboard to look at products in the back but Pope wholeheartedly agrees.

After dinner, which had tasted better than it both sounded and looked, you’d toasted your marshmallows. You felt a bit cruel as you snuggled nicely into the big bed, starfishing as much as you could, while Santi lay out a small pile of blankets on the floor next to the fire.

Sleep would have come easily to you, exhausted as you were, but it seemed Santi couldn’t get comfortable, tossing and turning and huffing as he did so. “Santi, if you’re going to keep me awake on the floor I think I’d rather if you slept in the bed.” You rolled to the side of the bed, watching as Santi sat up so fast, you were worried he’d snap something. “Really?” His voice sounded so pathetic, you felt horribly mean for making him sleep on the floor.

Until he stood up and you saw that he wasn’t wearing any thermals. Again. And this time he was turned towards you and you could see the outline of everything, causing you to swallow heavily and look away, face feeling so hot you could have been burned. Just friends, you remind yourself, we’re just friends.

And when Santi got into bed next to you, you could feel him shift and relax into the mattress as it dipped under his weight. And why was this so much more awkward than it was last night? Maybe, a snide voice began, it’s because last night, you were on the brink of death. And tonight, you’re a sad, sad girl who has a crush on her best friend.

“Baby, come here.” Santiago’s husky voice seems like it comes out of nowhere, and you blink at the ceiling. Baby? Turning to face him again, you’re kind of surprised to see his arms open again like they were last night. He wants to cuddle? Again? Even though he doesn’t have to? Baby? And it’s so silent, the only sound the fire crackling behind you.

But you move forwards anyway because this is Santiago, who are you to say no? Maybe he’ll call me Baby again. Santi tugs you towards him, wrapping his arms around you, and you press your face into the crook of his neck again, clenching your eyes tightly shut, praying that this isn’t a dream. And then you lift your head because “How do you still smell so nice?” And you realise your mistake too late, because although the movement puts more space between you, you’re now  because now your face is level with his, and far too little space between the two of you.

But then his eyes drop to your lips and suddenly everything falls neatly into place. Why you and Santi had been in so many compromising positions over the last couple of days. All those lingering touches and glances. How Santi would do anything for you. How he always told you the truth, even when you didn’t want to hear it. How he remembered details about you. How you made him laugh. How he made you laugh.

And so you leaned forwards and kissed him.

It’s a peck of a kiss, you’re not brave enough to do anything else, maybe lasting for a second before you’re pushing off from him, putting distance between your bodies, the voice in your head screaming ‘Idiot!’ at you over and over.

Until one of Santi’s hands are on the back of your head, pulling you back towards him and you let him, leaning forwards and you’re kissing again.

But properly this time. This isn’t some PG-rated, playground kiss that 12 year olds gave each other during a game of spin the bottle. This was a real kiss, your eyes are closed and your mouth is moving against Santi’s like it’s found its home.

Your mouths are open and his hands move to rest on your waist and yours are in his hair. And it’s too much. But not enough. Distantly a helicopter whirs overhead and you hook one leg over his waist, your foot pressing into his bum, pulling him closer to you. And you can feel him. All of him. He’s clearly just as into this as you are and the two of you keep kissing as you tug on his hair. He groans into your mouth before moving down your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin until he finds the spot which causes you to gasp out his name.

You keep moving against each other and it’s so good and the helicopter whirs overhead once more. You gasp as it clicks in your mind and you push at Santi’s shoulders as he keeps kissing your shoulders, “You’re so beautiful,” Santi groans and you want him to continue so badly, but if that helicopter is here for you, which it must be after two days of silence, you don’t want to found in this position.

“Santi, stop, we have to stop!” Santi immediately pulls away from you, his brow furrowing as he looks at your face. “What is it?”

You’re sure that the grin on your face is a dopey one but you can’t help it, he’s so cute. “There’s a chopper outside.” Santi sits up just as the door opens to reveal a grinning Frankie. “They’re in here!” he hollers behind him. “Cuddling and -” his gaze lands on you and his eyes drop a couple of inches below yours and he laughs a little, “Ironhead and Redfly, you owe me 15 big ones!”

Santi’s head snaps to look at you as well, and your hand flys up to touch the area he’d been kissing, which has the beginnings of a soreness that only comes from a hickey. You groan and let yourself fall back onto the pillows. The ride back was going to be hell.

Fin x

God this started as a comfort fic when the heating went out in my house - I didn’t think it’d get this far but I’m so pleased to have finished my first fic, please give me feedback good or bad I want to know! I know the ending was weak but didn’t know how to make it better so any tips would be appreciated! Also if anyone knows how to think of titles please please please help me

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@jura-moon​

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[harryspet]

little doe [5] peter parker

[Warnings] peter parker x oc, multiverse oc, fluff, angst, filler chapter, mentions of needles, little editing

A/N: This is going to be the second to last chapter in this series! The support on this story has been great and every like, reblog or comment really makes my heart all warm and fuzzy. 

Like, reblog and let me know what you think!

In which a kiss makes her forget her pain. 

word count: 2.2k

2 MONTHS LATER

“It seems the pills are keeping all her vitals normal,” Pepper unstrapped the blood pressure device from around Doe’s arm. Doe wasn’t sure what all the devices were for but Peter had insisted that Pepper was just making sure she was healthy, “Blood pressure is normal, temperature is higher than average but that’s to be expected. You’re a very healthy girl, Doe.”

Doe grinned, understanding that she had passed whatever test was just given to her. Pepper handed her a blue lollipop and Doe eagerly accepted it, popping it into her mouth. It was Doe’s first time back at Stark Labs and it made her wonder how her life could’ve changed so much in three months. 

“How is she at home? How are her powers?” Pepper asked Peter who was leaned against the wall. The small white office was starting to make him feel a bit claustrophobic. Peter felt a bit anxious which he hated since he knew that Pepper would never hurt her. Still, he felt overly protective whenever Doe left the safety of his apartment. 

“She’s great at home. The beginning was a little rough but we’ve gotten to know each other,” Peter’s eyes raked in Doe’s appearance, how she’d insisted on wearing that bright blue dress that she claimed made her feel like royalty. She turned heads whenever they were in public but it was best for Peter to let her be, “And her powers … it’s clear they’re much stronger when she’s sad or angry.”

“Ah,” Pepper had a light bulb go off above her head, “A true drama queen. I’ve had people doing some research, trying to narrow down what version of earth she might hail from but, without Fury’s top-secret information, I doubt we’ll have much luck.”

Peter tensed up at the mention of Fury, his arms crossed, “You’re not thinking about contacting him, right?”

Pepper sighed, “No, Doe is adjusting well so I don’t see a need to. You’re doing a good job, Peter, I know it must be stressful,” Peter was usually hypercritical of himself and, even though he knew Doe was happy, he still couldn’t help but feel like he’d made mistakes, “Could you hold onto her? I’m going to have someone draw her blood so we can test it and make sure we didn’t miss anything.”

Peter nodded, moving from the wall to where Doe was sitting on the lab table. Pepper grabbed her clipboard and filed out of the room. 

“I did good, Peter?” Doe asked, her English having improved astronomically with MJ teaching her all the time. 

“You did,” Peter assured her, “But we have to do one more thing before we go home. One of the scientists is going to take your blood. That means they have to prick you with a needle.”

“It will hurt?” Peter nodded, tucking a strand of her bright hair behind her ear, “I no want to.”

“You have to. It’s to make sure you’re healthy so you can keep staying with Peter.”

Doe thought it over but she wasn’t fully convinced and soon there was a man in a lab coat that entered the room, “Stay still, okay?” Peter grabbed ahold of Doe’s hand as the man began the short procedure.

Doe’s heart began to race as the man tied the band around her forearm. She began to panic even more as she saw the needle, “No, no, no can’t, Peter! Peter, no!”

The man flashed Peter a concerned look and Peter continued to try to console Doe but she had shut her eyes tight, “Peter! Peter! No, no, no-” Peter smashed his lips onto hers and she stopped her tantrum immediately. He felt Doe’s body relax and Peter held her lips on his as the man pricked her arm with the needle. 

Peter pulled away when her blood had filled the vial. Doe blinked, staring up at Peter in a daze before looking down at her arm. The man was about to open a band-aid when Doe interjected, “Pink color, please?”

The man grinned before picking out the neon pink band-daid, placing it down on where the blood was just drawn, “There you go, dear.”

“Thank you, please. Sorry for yell,” Doe apologized, happily gazing at her new band-aid. All of her little mannerisms made Peter blush. 

As soon as the man left the room, Doe pulled Peter in again for another kiss. He stood between her legs as her lips moved against his. She felt him reach between the waistband of his pants and he had to grab her hand to stop her before she began something that Peter would have to finish. 

“Not here,” Peter rushed out and Doe pouted. Another thing that she couldn’t wrap her mind around was that they couldn’t do certain things in public, “Let’s go home, Doe.”

+

Their trip to Stark Labs lasted longer than Peter initially anticipated and it was dark out by the time they made it to his side of town. Peter shifted the vehicle into park, looking over into the passenger seat to see that Doe was close to dozing off. He looked around the almost empty parking garage and got an eerie feeling. 

“Stay here,” Peter whispered but Doe only moaned something tiredly, nuzzling into her leather chair. Peter opened his door slowly, wanting to take a look around. 

Peter took a few steps and the feeling he had got even worse. He gripped his emergency web-shooters as the sound of screeching tires flooded his ears. A series of black escalades appeared from nowhere, circling their car in the empty parking lot. 

Peter wasn’t worried about taking them down, he could easily do that with his superhuman strength. He was worried because he knew exactly who was going to step from that black car. 

“Look who I’ve run into,” Fury spoke, his usual ‘I am all-knowing’ look on his face, “Peter Parker.”

Peter’s lips pressed into a thin line, “What do you need, Fury?” He wouldn’t have made such a big entrance if he didn’t have some life-altering news for him. 

“Fine, I won’t beat around the bush,” He adjusted his jacket, looking over Peter’s tense appearance, “I think you’ve left some big information out in the last few calls we’ve had.”

Peter shook his head, his arms crossed as he pretended to search his memory, “No, I don’t think so.”

“You’ve grown a lot the last few years,” Peter knew already that he wasn’t the same bumbling, innocent boy he used to be. “I admire that about you but I think you’ve gotten a little too big for your britches. You’re dealing with something you couldn’t possibly understand the future ramifications of.”

Over the last two months, Peter had thought a lot about this very conversation and the future he wanted with Doe. They had only known each other for a short amount of time but Peter already knew her. He knew what he wanted them to be.

“Peter?” His heart stopped as he heard her tired voice. Soon, that voice grew worried as she appeared from around the car, Peter was quick to be at her side. 

“Doe, go sit in the car,” Peter winced as the girl didn’t budge, looking past Peter’s shoulders to see Nick Fury standing idly by. 

“Bad guy?” Doe asked, an otherworldly power was dancing on Doe’s fingertips and she was ready to protect Peter at all cost. 

“No, not a bad guy-”

“Multiverse Being #165, believed to be from Earth version 482,” Fury interrupted and Peter turned, an eyebrow raised in confusion, “But it seems Peter has given you a new name. It’s nice to meet you, sweetheart.”

Peter grabbed her hand as Doe moved to stand beside him, “M-My name is Doe.”

Fury’s eyes wandered to wear their hands held each other, “I can tell she’s adjusting well.”

“She’s not going anywhere, Fury, if that’s what you’re here for,” Peter stated firmly, “And she won’t be apart of whatever scheme you’re planning next.”

“I don’t plan schemes, Parker. Everything I do is for the benefit of the entire planet.”

“And everything I do from now on is for her,” Doe looked up at Peter, not catching every detail of the conversation but understanding how serious the conversation was. Even when she had caused trouble around the apartment, she had never seen him this tense, “So I decide what happens.”

“And if earth needs her? For the greater good?”

“I decide,” Peter stated again, knowing it would be a long time before she was ready for anything like that, “If she trains if she doesn’t. Just trust me, Fury.”

Fury thought for a moment. Although he was constantly questioning Stark’s decision to trust him, Fury decided to back down, “Remember I got my eye on you, Parker.” After an intense staring contest, Fury was off and Peter had won for now. 

Doe stared up at Peter and as he saw that same innocence in her eyes, he squeezed her hand tightly. 

+

Doe despised Peter’s video games. Especially when Ned would come over and they’d sit on the couch for four hours straight playing them. Doe’s love and attention meter dwindled by the second but she couldn’t do what she normally did. If she threw a tantrum she wouldn’t get a sticker on her “Good Behavior Chart”. 

She stared up at the fridge where it was displayed in all its glitter and construction paper letters. She could get a reward at the end of each week for having good behavior every day and today was day seven. 

As the clock above the stove turned to midnight, Doe grabbed the chart off the fridge and marched into the living room where Peter was still playing a video game, “Peter,” She called his name, knowing he couldn’t hear her through his headphone, “Peterrrrr.”

As Doe came into a view, Peter quickly shouted, “Just one more game and then I’ll tuck you in. One more.”

Doe’s shoulders fell before a light bulb went off in her mind. Since today was technically over, she didn’t have to be on her best behavior anymore. Doe took a seat by Peter who was playing shirtless and in his boxers. She set the chart to the side before crawling beneath his arms and into his lap. 

She nuzzled her face into his neck, her hands running over his strong chest and then his biceps, causing Peter to pause the game. Doe grinned as Peter set his controller to the side, and she straddled his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. His hands slid over her bottom, gripping the flesh there as she leaned in to kiss him. 

Peter had already closed his eyes and when their lips never met, he opened his eyes, “Sticker please?”

Peter’s head tilted back in realization, “You tricked me!”

Doe giggled, grabbing the chart to show him, “No trick. Peter and video game is bad. Peter and Doe is good . . . Doe and sticker is very very good.”

“Fine, you’re the boss,” Peter complied, swooping Doe up as he stood from the couch, “I guess you’ve been a good girl all week … if you don’t count the smoothie incident.” Doe pouted, thinking back to how she didn’t know you had to put the top on the blender. The smoothie still ended up tasting good which was all that mattered to her. 

Peter carried her into the kitchen and set her down onto the counter as he began ruffling through drawers, “Ah, here they are,” He opened one to find an assortment of stickers, “Which one do you want?”

This was Doe’s favorite part and she had practically ranked them all for her favorite to least favorite. She pointed to one shaped like a rainbow and Peter proceeded to place it onto the Sunday square. Doe clapped in excitement, knowing she was only a week away from filling up the entire month. 

“Gift now?” She asked, biting down on her bottom lip, as Peter placed the chart back on the fridge. 

Peter yawned, “What would you like this week?”

“Sex.”

Peter’s mouth parted in surprise, “What?”

“Like Game of Thrones.”

Peter blinked, confusion evident in his expression, “When have you been watching Game of Thrones?”

“MJ watch with me. She like when people-” Doe made the motion of a knife being stabbed into her stomach. Peter grabbed her hands, pulling them back away from her stomach. 

Peter shook his head in disbelief, “I really need to change the locks and you shouldn’t be watching shows like that.”

“Sex is bad? But we do sex-”

“Yes but-” Peter cut himself off as his thoughts interrupted him, “It’s just different, Doe. And we do a lot of things but we haven’t actually ... “ It was a line that Peter had yet to cross and he was still quite satisfied with what they already had. 

“Peter?” Doe held his face in her hand, wanting him to reassure her. 

“The first time you have sex … it might hurt and I-I don’t wanna hurt you, Doe.”

Doe’s face softened at the look of worry in his eyes, “Like the nee-dle?”

Peter nodded slowly, “Kinda like that, yeah.”

“Then Peter will kiss Doe and make feel better,” Doe grinned and a smile stretched on Peter’s face as his eyes lit up with happiness. Doe leaned into him and Peter did the same. The touch of their lips sent sparks through them and fireworks seemed to explode in the kitchen. 

As Peter pulled away to catch his breath, he stared at the beautiful creature before him with gratitude, “I love you,” He thought his heart my race or that he’d sweat nervously but Peter had never been more sure of something. 

“I … I different kind of love Peter.”

+

Hope you enjoyed this! If you have an idea for something you wanna see in the last chapter then feel free to send me an ask!

[stressisakiller]

Forgive Me Sunflower

Bucky Barnes x Reader Soulmate AU

(Hello Sunflower Part 10) EDITED 

Summary:  What happens when Bucky wakes up to your bed empty and a strange note on your pillow

Warnings: refences to torture. Murder. cussing

Word Count: 4 k

A/N:  Can you figure out what her secret message was?  Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for future chapters! Thank yall for reading!’

Thoughts are in italics

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Life in the tower fell into a peaceful rhythm. Waking up before the sun, heading down to the training rooms. Beating the shit out of Bucky, occasionally you let him win, then breakfast with everyone. Steve and Bucky always made sure to go for a run together, while they were out you went upstairs and sat in the lab with Tony. You may not have had a normal childhood but you “father” hadn’t let your education suffer, we believed that knowledge was everything. So, you were able to help out occasionally with the problems that arose. 

While he worked Tony enjoyed telling you stories, about himself and your parents. You quickly felt as though you got the chance to know them. As much as you loved these stories it broke your heart that you were the reason they were no longer here. 

Tony was finishing one such story when he noticed the dejected look on your face, he quickly switched to telling you about how he became Iron Man. He explained the cave and the fear he felt while stuck there, although he would never admit that to anyone else. He told you of the man who helped him and saved his life, of his sacrifice and the change it caused in Tony’s life. He told you about being betrayed by the man he had trusted the most, you could relate to that. 

Life was good, really good. You felt safe with the people around you, you felt loved and trusted. You felt like you had a family. But of course nothing lasts forever.

You lived in peace for two months. Two months of happiness and tranquility, or as much tranquility as a group of superheroes are able to have. The tranquility was shattered one morning about a week before the avengers were to go to trial. 

Waking up that morning Bucky got ready as always, he headed down to the training rooms and was surprised to see that you had yet to arrive. Weird, you always arrived before him. He went back to the elevator and headed to your room, some nights you liked to sleep in a space that was your own. Opening the door his eyes fell on your empty bed, it was still made, as if you never made it to bed last night. Worried he hurried over to your bathroom and knocked,

 “Hey sunflower, you in there?” the silence that answered him was overwhelming, you weren’t here. 

Where on earth could you be? Upon closer inspection of your room his eyes fell upon a note laid purposefully on your pillow. He carefully made his way over, watching closely for any trip wires. Lifting the card from your pillow he cut open the top with one of the knives on his belt. His eyes scanned the note, he felt the breath leave his lungs, was this some kind of sick joke? He took a deep breath trying to calm himself down before rereading the paper in his hand.

Bucky,

Hello, I'm sorry that I must tell you this in a letter, sunflower. But the time has come I must leave before the sun is up. I can't follow your dreams for us anymore. I have my own and they don't involve you right now. We are done my sunflower. Don't try to find me 

Your star,

Ps forgive me

There was something off about the way the note was written. It was worded strangely, it didn’t sound like you at all. Not to mention the fact that you would never leave your soulmate like this. He thought back to the night before, you had been just as cuddly as normal, you had fallen asleep on him during the movie that you were all watching. He had gently woken you and walked with you to your room, you had given him a quick kiss and a smile before walking through the door. Bucky shook his head, bringing himself back to the problem at hand. He examined the wording carefully, looking for anything that would explain where you were. There it was, oh you clever, beautiful woman. Of course that would be your message, there is only one explanation as to where you are. Fuck. His face paled as the meaning of your message sunk in. You had been forced to write this message and yet you had found a way to tell him who it was. Hydra.

Your day was going well, you had a great time training this morning, you had pinned Bucky no less than three times. Tony had been in a good mood while you sat with him, his newest project was going smoothly and he was excited to see it in action. The best part had been the movie night that the group decided to have. You fell asleep on Bucky, how could you not, he is just so warm. He had taken you back to your room and you had kissed him at the door before parting ways. That is when it all went to shit. A hand closed over your mouth and a gun pressed to your temple. Your brain was still fuzzy with sleep, putting you at a disadvantage, it was quickly clearing but not quite as quickly as you needed. As the fog began to clear you began debating the best way to incapacitate the guy who currently had his hand on your mouth. So focused on the man behind you, you almost didn’t notice when a shadow moved in the corner in front of you. Almost, the moment that the movement registered in your tired brain you froze.

“Please don’t try to escape, we need you to come with us.” The disembodied voice was eerily familiar although you couldn’t figure out why.

You struggled against the iron grip of the man behind you, at the prompting of the man in the corner, he slowly lowered his hand from your mouth allowing you to speak.

“And why the hell do you think I would do that?” you spat at him.

“Simple,” his calm demeanor was starting to give you the creeps, how could he be so calm right now? “If you don’t we will kill every single person in this building and maybe their families too while we are at it.” your eyebrows rose at his statement, 

“Just the two of you?” disbelief evident in your voice.

He laughed, a humorous thing, it sent chills down your back.

“Of course not, stupid girl, there are more of us in this building right now. If you cooperate then they won’t need to be used, they will leave as soon as we do.”

How could you trust him to keep his word? But if you didn’t go with him then there was no way for you to protect everyone. You head swam, you knew he wouldn’t wait long for your answer.

“Fine, but you have to swear that you and your men will leave everyone else in this building alone.” 

“You have my word, he only wants you right now anyway.”

“He?” your curiosity got the best of you

“Hydra, of course, now I need you to write a letter, one that explains your absence. One that explains that you don’t want anyone looking for you.” His voice was firm, and you knew that you had no choice.

You nodded your agreement, and the man behind you loosened his grip, but the gun stayed trained on you. You walked to your desk and brought out a pen and some paper, taking a second to figure out how to let Bucky know that you were in danger. The solution popped in your mind and you jotted down your note, hoping that he would understand. As soon as you were done they tied your hands together and pulled you to their escape route. With surprising speed and ease they got you out of the building and thrust you into a car. You fought against your bonds until a needle was shoved in your neck, blackness filled your vision and your eyelids felt like lead, the last thing you heard was a man barking directions before sleep took you.

Cold. All you can feel is overwhelming cold. Whatever you were laying on felt like ice. Fighting against the weight of your eyelids struggling against the darkness that held you. Voices, you could hear voices in the background. Trying to focus on their words but unable to understand what they meant. Wake up, you thought. Wake up! WAKE UP! Forcing your eyes open you flinched as a blinding light forced you to snap them shut. Breathe. Slowly opening your eyes, you take in your surroundings, it looks familiar. Fuck. You were back, they had you again, and you walked right into their arms. Tears welled up in your eyes causing your vision to waver. No, you would not cry, you refuse to cry. They don’t get to see you break. A voice brought you out of your thoughts, eyes shooting to the door. No, no no no no. Not him, anyone but him. But his voice was unmistakable, your heart dropped, your father. No you remind yourself, not your father, just an asshole that stole you from your family and forced you to become a monster. You would not let them break you. The door swung open and the face that has been haunting your nightmares since you escaped walked into view, a cold and calculating smile on his lips. 

“Well, well. It is so good to have you back, my daughter. I so missed having you here.” fake sincerity that made your toes curl laced his voice. The gag in your mouth kept you from spitting on him, all you could do was glare. You felt so helpless. He always made you feel so fucking helpless.

“Now now, sweet girl, no need for anger, you must have forgotten that all I have ever wanted is the best for you. You lost yourself these past two years, but don’t worry we will soon remedy that.” He stepped towards you, a rope in his hand, you looked up at him, eyes widening in fear and anger, this was going to hurt.

Bucky ran into the common room, eyes scanning the room widely, gone was the cool calm and collected Bucky. This Bucky had just lost his soulmate to the very people that you had finally been able to escape. He will do anything to get her back. His eyes fell on Tony pouring himself some coffee into a mug you had recently bought for him. Bucky stalked over to him, trying to keep his overwhelming fear from showing on his face. Tony looked up at him as he walked closer, giving him a smirk,

“Hey there grizzly bear, someone steal your honey and piss in your cheerios?” His smile fell as he studied the soldier, Tony had never seen him like this, something terrible had happened.

“What is it? What happened?” Going from playful to serious in a split second. His eyes scanned the room and noticed the lack of his sister, “Where is Y/N?”

 Bucky couldn’t seem to answer, he just held out the note. Quickly reading it Tony ended up even more confused,

 “there has to be a mistake, she would never leave like this.” desperation coloring his tone and he looked back at Bucky. Bucky shook his head, 

“She didn’t, she was forced to write it. She left a hidden message, she was taken by Hydra.” 

“Fuck!” Tony had to stop himself from throwing his mug across the room, it was a gift from you and he would hate himself if anything happened to it.

 “Ok what can we do, we need to find her.” He started to ramble about all of the things he could do and how they could get to her before Bucky held up a hand to quiet him. 

“I think I know where she is. There is a Hydra base in upstate New York, they don’t know that I know about it. I was supposed to be under their control when they took me there but I was slipping, more of myself than the soldier at the time.” He spoke quickly, he wanted to get to her as soon as possible. Tony nodded and called for Jarvis to gather everyone in the mission room. They filed in confused as to what was going on, Steve was the last one to sit down. 

“Y/N has been taken by Hydra and we are going to get her back.” Bucky was clear and concise as he explained the plan to them. If everything went according to plan they should have her back in the next two days. 

Time meant nothing to you. You couldn’t tell how long you had been back in the clutches of the asshole you used to call father. Has it been a day? A week? A month? All you knew was pain. Your thoughts felt fragmented. Like dandelion fluff in the wind. Bucky would come. Keep Bucky safe. All that matters is keeping him safe. Don’t let them see you break. Your head lolled to the side when you heard the door open. He was back, couldn’t he just leave you alone? Freezing water was thrown over your battered body, you bit your tongue to keep from gasping. Cuts stinging from onslaught, the deeper gashes on your tattoos making the water run red.

“Hello, sweetheart, I think you’re ready to be our soldier again.” His eyes were filled with glee at the prospect of being back in control of you, he had so many ideas of what he would have you do, who he would have you kill. He paused, letting the news sink in before continuing.

 “There is no way you can hold out this time.” Your eyes slid from his face, too tired to focus, too tired to fight. The scientist minions unstrapped your limp body from the table that had been your home since you arrived. They dragged you, feet scraping against the floor, to the machine that you had hoped to never see again, the blender. They threw you into the chair and strapped you down, removing the gag and shoving a rubber piece into your mouth. You wanted to fight but you couldn’t feel your arms. They placed the helmet on your head and turned the machine on. 

Bucky, forced himself to calm down, they would have you back soon. It had taken them a day to confirm your location and get ready to leave. Now he sat impatiently in the quinjet with the rest of the Avengers, wondering what awaited him at the base. Praying that you were ok, that he wasn’t too late. A voice came over the intercom letting them know they were 5 minutes out. He stood keeping his hands busy with getting ready, pushing aside his worry and doubt. You needed him and he wasn’t going to let his fear get in the way of saving you.

 The plane touched down and the soldier was on the move. Ruthless and concise the soldier cut through the guards and anyone who got in his way. The only person that matters to him is his soulmate, the one he is here to save. He made his way through the base quickly, his steps never faltering as he moved towards the room that he knew they would have you in. The room that was the scene of every one of his nightmares. He busted through the door and stepped into the room, the one with the blender, the one where they brainwashed him. 

For the first time during the mission his steps faltered, the soldier was devastated by what he saw. You, alive yes, but battered and bruised, face pale and blood running from multiple cuts. A dark purple bruise obvious around your throat. Your face was full of bruises and cuts, your arms were the same. You were staring straight forward, eyes void and he knew he had failed you. He moved to step towards you but your fathers voice caused him to stop.

“Soldier, are you ready to comply?” Bucky wanted to punch the grin off of his face but all he could do was watch. 

“Ready to comply.” your voice was ice, lacking any of its usual warmth and emotion.

“Kill the winter Soldier, I have no more need for him.” You snapped to attention, turning to your enemy, deciding the best way to attack. You charged. Bucky brought his arm up in time to block your attack, moving quickly to protect himself without hurting you. You quickly flipped him on his back, standing over him, he looked at you with defeat, he couldn’t hurt you, not this time. A twinkle came to your eyes that hadn’t been there a moment before, and you did the last thing he was expecting, you winked. Bucky moved quickly rolling out of your grasp, keeping up the ruse and noticed that your blows were softer than they would be in a normal fight, you were still there. You yanked his pistol out of his holster and pointed it at him, finger on the trigger. 

“Well,” came your father's voice, impatience coloring his tone,

 “what are you waiting for? Shoot him.” Bucky saw your trigger finger twitch before you moved, a shot ringing out in the otherwise quiet space. 

Blinking Bucky turned to see the body of your father fall to the ground, bullet lodged between his eyes. Shaking off the sense of deja vu he looked back towards you. Although your actions showed that you were still at least sort of in control of your body, he could tell that the soldier was at the controller. He took a cautious step towards you. You spun, and pointed the gun at him, a glimmer of recognition in your eyes before you slowly lowered the gun. Bucky reached for the gun keeping his movements slow as he released your hold on it. Gently grasping your chin, he turned you to look at him. 

“Hello, my star,” His voice was soft, “It’s your sunflower, it’s time for you to come back to me.” Your eyes seemed to focus for a moment before you spoke,

“I have to finish my mission.” your voice was firm

“What is your mission, my star?” he asked, keeping your eyes trained on him. 

“To keep my soulmate safe, that has always been my mission.” you looked confused at his question as if the answer should have been obvious. He smiled, cupping your cheek in his hand.

“I am safe, my star, your sunflower is safe. Your mission is complete, you can let go.” At his words, your eyes rolled back and you collapsed. His arms wrapping around you before you could hit the floor. Bucky picked you up and began to carry you out of the godforsaken base. 

You wake for a moment as he carries you towards the exit, seeing his face, you were able to  relax for the first time in days.

“Bucky?”

“Hush, little one, I have you now, we are heading home.” 

The next time you woke up you were in the tower hospital, feeling weak but better than you had when you passed out. Your eyes were drawn towards the hand that currently engulfed yours, it was connected to the sleeping form of your handsome soulmate. Reaching across yourself with your free hand you ran your fingers through his hair. The soft feeling, waking him up from his sleep. Raising his head Bucky looked at you. Tears forming in his eyes as he noticed you were awake.

“Hi,” your voice was rough from screaming. His eyes softened, his metal hand coming up to rest on your cheek.

“Hi yourself, little one, you scared the shit out of me.” you chuckled at him

“Wasn’t my intention love, they got me to go with them because they threatened you. I promised that I would take care of you. I didn’t mean to cause you pain.”

“No, sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize, I am just happy that you are back with me and that you are safe.” he rested his forehead against yours as he spoke, as if he could force the words into your head. You cleared your throat, a question at the forefront of your mind.

“What day is it? Did I miss the trials? Knowing them they took me when they did to keep me from testifying, they wanted me to forfeit my right to be heard.” you anxiously awaited his answer, worried that you had ruined everything.

“No, little one, we still have a couple of days before the trials start. You were gone a total of two days, and out of consciousness another. You will still be able to make it to the trial. I have a feeling that your injuries might just swing the jury in your favor.” His lip turned up, but there was pain in his eyes, he drew his hand from yours and gently rested it on your hip where the cuts were the deepest, they had cut you to figure out which tattoo was your soulmark.

“Well I’m glad something good came out of this.” sarcasm evident in your tone as you tried to make light of the situation.

“Well that and the death of the asshole that took you from your parents.” Bucky didn’t try to hind the venom in his voice as he spat out the words. Your eyes widened, 

“Wait what? He’s dead?” Bucky looked confused at your question before understanding washed over him.

“Little one, he turned you into the soldier and told you to kill me. You pulled your punches and when you stole my gun he ordered you to shoot me, but you shot him instead.” 

You could tell that he was a little worried about how you would react. As much as you hated the man you had still believed him to be your father for the majority of your life.

“Good, the bastard deserved it.” you looked away from Bucky’s face as you spoke, shame prickling behind your eyes because of the sadness you felt.

“I do have a question though, how were you able to fight his control? Why didn’t you shoot me?” You looked at him surprised by his question.

“They haven’t truly had control over me since I got my tattoo.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you thought back to it. “When they tried to activate the soldier after the mark showed up I was able to talk to her. We agreed that you were as much her soulmate as you are mine and that we would both do whatever it takes to protect you. You became our mission.” you took a deep breath before continuing, pulling your eyes from Bucky’s face.

 “The soldier and I are one, as much as I hate a lot of the things she did, she had as little of a choice as I did. She takes control when they activate her, but I am no longer trapped in the backseat. I’m able to talk to her, and most of the time, she listens.” 

Bucky looked down at his hands in confusion, wondering if he would ever be able to say the same about himself and the winter soldier. Could they ever work together? He let the thought go as he watched you yawn. 

Picking you up, he took you back to his room, you were well enough to sleep in a real bed tonight. Heaven knows you needed it. He laid you down and pulled you close, smiling at the feeling of you nuzzling into his side. Those questions could wait till later, for now, he would enjoy sleeping next to his soulmate again.

Tagged users: @calwitch @writerwrites

[the-sympathetic-villain]

The Stowaway’s Heart - Chapter 2

AO3 | Previous | Next | Masterpost

Description:  Virgil is rescued by selkies after being abandoned at sea and brought back to their pod to recover. Virgil's poor, gay heart may just explode from how attractive they all  are.

Pairings: Analogical, Platonic Logince (There may be more as I go along!)

Word Count: 5148

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, Sensory overload, Dehydration, Anxiety, Fainting (Let me know if I need to add anything!)

Author’s note: I thought this chapter was going to go up like a week after the first, but I wrote it, edited twice, lost 3 hours of editing before deciding to scrap it and start over. But I’m much happier with it now <3 With any luck, Chapter 3 will not take as long!

-

    Shadows shifted slowly around Virgil as he floated through the empty void surrounding him. The distant noise of his own vague thoughts echoed in his mind,  gone before he could even process them. He listened to the murmuring of his own being as the gentle noise nearly lulled himself into a deep, deep sleep. He leaned into the comforting warmth of darkness, letting it surround him as he drifted further and further into oblivion.

    Am I dead?

    The single coherent thought shattered the illusion around him. He suddenly felt himself fading away. Groggily, Virgil dug into the depths his mind, manically searching for any recognition of what had happened to him. The effort only seemed to make him dizzier. Resisting only seemed to cause him to slip away faster. Any feeling of safety fell away as a surge of panic seized his being. Manically, he clung to each thought passing through his mind, feeling them slip away from him. The world turned upside down on him and he faltered, desperately hoping for the spinning in his head to cease. He felt the energy leaving his body as he resisted and the hazy darkness around him threatened to consume him.

    Fuck. I'm definitely fucking dead.

    His mind edged closer to despair, but even as the thought crossed his mind, his certainty faltered.  A gentle tingle started to move across his body and feeling returned to the tips of his fingers. He shuddered as the gentle tingling turn to the burning of pins and needles piercing his skin. The prickling sensation crept its way slowly up his arm, across his chest, spreading to his limbs as feeling returned to his body. Virgil sucked in a sudden breath as he was forcefully pulled back to awareness. He felt his chest rise and fall as he took rapid, wheezing breaths and his muscles went limp with exhaustion.

    Fine. Not dead.

    The bitter thought was short-lived as the sound of moving papers near his feet sent another wave of adrenaline surging through his body..

    I'm not alone.

    The realization sent chills surging up his spine. Virgil tried to open his eyes, his breath catching in his throat as he realized that they were sealed shut. A fresh wave of fear crashed through him as the sound of footsteps approached him. Manically, Virgil pushed himself backwards, yelping in pain as his head smashed against the stone wall behind him. He groaned, baring his teeth at whoever was closing in on him.

    “Be still, dear one. I give you my word that no harm will come to you while you are in my care.”

    Virgil froze, confused.  His initial distrust wavered as the soft tone of the voice above him lulled him into a sense of security. His burst of energy faded and he sunk back into the soft pillow beneath him, too exhausted to be defiant.

    “Good." The stranger paused. "Forgive me for not immediately announcing my presence.  You stirred a few times since you arrived here, but you were not fully awake before.”

    Virgil felt the weight of the bed shift as the stranger sat down beside him. Virgil’s skin tingled as a soft hand brushed his hair from his face.

    “I tried to offer you water, but you...um, hissed at me. It was an unexpected response, given what I know of humans. I would have expected that kind of reaction would be more characteristic of someone of my species than of yours.”

    That voice…

    The stranger chuckled softly and the gentle laugh struck a nerve in his brain, sending his memories rushing back. Images of being caught by the ship's crew and thrown in the brig of the ship flashed through his mind. He inhaled sharply as the sounds of screaming reverberated loudly in his mind. Virgil shivered violently as his last memory came back.

    I was hanging on by a bare thread.

    Too weak to move.

    I should have died.  

    He swallowed, nearly choking on his swollen tongue as he recognized the stranger's voice.

    The man from the boat…

      He actually rescued me.

    Virgil barely had barely had time to process the thought when a cool hand came to rest on his forehead, sending chills down his spine. His initial shock faded quickly and he relaxed, leaning into the stranger's hand as his cool touch soothed Virgil's burning face.

    Logan. His name was Logan.

    “You are still abnormally warm. It would be best if you could drink something." The stranger's hand moved to the side of his cheek. "Do you think you could hold water down, if I assist you?”

    Virgil opened his mouth but his voice was weak, and he barely managed to push out a raspy breath.

    “Do not try to speak, love.” Logan paused. “Can you nod for me, if this is an acceptable arrangement?”

    Virgil managed a small nod as he leaned back into the pillow behind his head. He felt Logan's hand move down from his cheek to his jaw, tilting his head upright.

    “Give me a moment. I will return shortly.”

    The bed shifted as Logan moved away from him. Virgil listened, tracking Logan's movement as he walked to the far side of the room. His attempt at focusing was short-lived as his mind subconsciously started to drift as he listened to the shuffling sounds of Logan as moved about the room. He yawned nearly drifting to sleep at the sound of the pouring water.

    Time seemed to blur around Virgil and he couldn't be sure when how much time had passed when he realized the pouring had stopped. Virgil tipped his head up, listening intently, but he couldn’t hear the sounds of Logan moving at all. A pit of dread settled into his stomach as the silence continued. Dread gradually turned to panic as time passed

    He left me…

    I won't make it on my own…

    I can't—

    A groan had barely escaped Virgil’s lips when a loud, metallic crash broke the silence. A whimper escaped him as his eyes unwillingly peeled open in shock. Opening his eyes felt like dragging hot sand across his pupils, and he immediately clenched them shut. The burning sensation persisted even as his eyelids closed, but the thankfully the pain seemed to be muted.

    “I apologize. I—" Logan's usually silky tone held an unexpected edge of anxiety.

    Virgil curled in pain as the sound of Logan clearing the mess echoed loudly in his ears. The sounds seemed to reverberate in his head, growing in volume with each passing minute. Virgil moaned, reaching his hands up to his ears. He weakly pressed his wrists against his ears, trying to drown out the unbearable noise. Barely registering that Logan seemed to have set whatever he'd been clearing down, a wave of nausea washed over him as Logan dropped down next to him. He bit back the urge to gag from the unexpected movement and started to shake as his heightened senses threatened to overwhelm him.

    Virgil flinched as hands touched his cheeks. Instinctively, he tried to pull away as shivers swept down his body at Logan's touch, but Logan held his face steady. Logan's thumbs came to rest on Virgil's temples and his fingers teased at the edge of his hair as he guided Virgil's face upright.

    “Give me your pain, love.”

    Virgil barely had time to process Logan's words before a wave of relief surged out from his temples, washing down his body to the tips of his limbs. He sighed gratefully as the pain evaporated out of his body and his senses dulled back to normal. He inhaled sharply as his chest opened up and his wheezy breathing became regular once more.

    Logan moaned softly next to him and Virgil felt his grip on his face slacken. Exhaustion was apparent in his voice when he finally spoke again. “Be at peace, dear one. Please, forgive me for my momentary distraction. I did not intend to cause you harm—”

    Virgil heard Logan pause as he cracked open his eyes. Logan’s blurry silhouette was barely visible against the bright light behind him, and after only a moment, the burning sensation forced his eyes shut again.

    “Hold still and do not open your eyes, dear one.”

    Virgil stifled a moan as Logan’s thumb brushed his cheek, sending pleasant tingles across his face as Logan examined his eyes. Logan turned away from him and Virgil listened carefully as Logan shifted objects around off to the side of the bed. With a final splash and dripping sounds of water, he felt the chill of a wet cloth being laid across his eyes. Virgil quivered gently as the chill eased the inflammation in his eyes.

    “Your eyes were not ready to open. You must be patient, and let your eyes rest.” Logan paused for a moment before sighing. “I understand you are anxious to see where you are, but please, trust me a little longer. You will be able to see for yourself soon.”

    Virgil swallowed, disappointed. His face clenched as he bit back the urge to gag on his own tongue, but he nodded tensely at Logan.

    “Thank you.” Logan's words were quiet, and for a moment he fell silent. Virgil couldn’t even hear Logan's breathing as he sat next to him on the bed. When he finally spoke again, the exhaustion in the undertones of his voice was even more apparent. Virgil felt a pang of guilt in his stomach, realizing how far Logan had pushed himself to save him.

    “May I lift you into a better position for you to drink safely?”

    Virgil nodded weakly as his body went limp. He felt a hand on his arm. Logan moved slowly, slipping his hands around Virgil's shoulders and underneath his knees. He paused briefly, allowing Virgil a moment to adjust in his grip before attempting to lift him.

    A gasp escaped Virgil’s lips as Logan lifted him off the bed, gently edging him closer to the head of the bed. Logan carefully lowered Virgil down on the bed with him, slowly resting Virgil’s upper body on his leg and supporting Virgil’s neck in the crook of his arm. There was a brief pause and Virgil felt Logan turn his head to look over at him.

    “Are you comfortable enough, love?”

    Virgil couldn’t help the shivers that gently made their way down his body as he felt Logan’s breath on his neck. He nodded, leaning into the coolness of Logan’s arm as Logan leaned over to the side of the bed. After Logan shifted back, Virgil felt a cup at his lips. He leaned forward, eagerly downing the water. Relief washed over him as the cool liquid eased the dull ache in his throat. Logan allowed him to drink longer than he expected, but still, he had to stifle a pitiful whine as he felt the cup leave his lips.

    Logan laughed softly, clearly noticing Virgil's displeasure. “I do not mean to disappoint you, love.”

    “Logan…” Virgil felt like he was choking as he squeezed out Logan’s name out, but he was beginning to resent his forced silence.

    “You... remembered my name?” Logan's voice was soft with shock.

    Virgil nodded. His voice was barely more than a wheezy breath, but forced himself to continue to speak.. “More… please…”

    Logan hesitated but his resolution quickly weakened. “Very well. I suppose a bit more will not hurt you, as long as you are certain you are not going to make yourself ill.”

    Virgil nodded, leaning his head tiredly into Logan’s chest. A moment later, the cup was at Virgil’s lips once more, and he sipped slowly at the water, savoring the coolness of the liquid as it eased his scratchy throat. Virgil willingly stopped drinking before the cup was pulled from him. Satisfied, he leaned back comfortably into Logan’s cool body.

    “Where am I?” Virgil’s voice was stronger, though his voice was still gravely and rough.

    “Somewhere safe, dear one.” Logan took a breath. “It is an island a good distance off the mainland, but you would not know its name.”

    “Why do you…keep calling me that?” Virgil winced, almost overextending his voice.

    Logan paused, confused by the question. “You are referring to when I call you ‘dear one'?”

    Virgil nodded.

    “I hope I have not offended you by doing so.” Logan's voice seemed almost anxious as he spoke.

    Taken aback, Virgil shook his head slowly.

    “Good. I do not want you to feel that I am taking advantage of your vulnerable position in my care.” Logan paused. “I do not wish to cause you discomfort.”

    Virgil 's hand instinctively closed around a handful of Logan’s shirt and he felt Logan stare down at his hand, quiet as he considered Virgil’s question.

    “I must admit referring to you as such simply felt natural to me. I was not entirely aware I was doing so until you asked.”

    “You don’t even know me.” Virgil grumbled tiredly.

    Logan shrugged. “Perhaps not, but admittedly I'm not well-practiced in concealing my feelings. I care about you.”

    “Why?”

    Logan turned down to look at him. "Why not?"

    "You don't even know me." He growled again. "I could be a killer."

    Logan was quiet for a moment. "Are you?"

    "No." He mumbled tiredly.

    "I imagine you would not be surprised if I hated you on sight. So, why is it so hard to imagine that I might care about you instead?"

    “Why did you save me?”

    “Why would I have left you to die, if I had the capacity to help?”

    “You don't know me.” Virgil repeated bitterly, uncomfortable with Logan's pity.

    Logan was silent as Virgil anxiously awaited his response. He heard Logan sigh tiredly. “Even after all this time, humans still find ways to confound me.”

    “Humans? What—” Virgil whispered, but his voice was weak and Logan continued as if he hadn't heard him.

    “Why would I have to know for you to be worth saving?” Virgil could almost feel Logan’s eyes burning into him. His voice held an uncharacteristic harsh edge but Virgil couldn't stop himself

    “Your friend didn't think I was worth the effort.” He spat out without thinking.

    Logan paused in shock before slowly turned his head away from Virgil. He was silent for a long time and Virgil started to shift nervously, realizing he probably shouldn’t have intentionally antagonized the only person who seemed willing to keep him alive. He opened his mouth to apologize but Logan spoke first.

    “I do not blame you for judging Roman so harshly, but you should know, his hesitancy to act had little to do with you. Roman has people he is responsible for protecting and his thoughts were with them.” Logan paused. Virgil was surprised at his sudden apologetic tone. “His hesitancy still does not diminish the value of your life, love.”

    Virgil was quiet, unsure of how to process what Logan was saying.

    “Do you have a name, love?”

    Virgil hesitated.

    “You are not obligated to share.” Logan yawned. “I only ask so I have a proper way to refer to you.”

    “My name is Virgil,” He muttered into Logan’s chest.

    “Virgil,” Logan said his name slowly, almost like he was savoring the sound on his lips. “Okay, Virgil. Are you ready to open your eyes?”

    Virgil nodded nervously. He felt Logan slip out from underneath him and lay him gently back on the pillow behind him.

    “I must ask that you do not open your eyes right away. Give me a moment before you try.” Logan said as he peeled back the wet cloth from Virgil’s eyes.

    Virgil heard a soft splash of water and felt Logan dab gently at his eyes, wiping away the excess buildup on his eyelids, until the felt almost normal again. The burning had subsided nearly entirely as they'd talked .

    “You can open them now, Virgil.”

    Virgil blinked, looking up at Logan. He could barely distinguish Logan's golden brown hair and blue shirt from rest of the blurry colors around him. He grumbled with disappointment as he tried to blink the haze away.

    “Be patient, love. Your vision will clear soon." Logan chuckled softly, leaning closer. “May I have permission to touch your neck? I would like to be sure that your pulse is regular.”

    Virgil grunted his affirmation, barely distracted from his attempts to blink his vision clear. His focus broke as Logan's hand brushed his jaw before coming to rest on his neck, sending a pleasant shiver down his body. Virgil felt his cheeks start to burn, embarrassed by his body's reaction to Logan's touch, but Logan seemed not to notice. His mind seemed occupied as he held his  fingers to Virgil's neck. Virgil looked up blinking gently as Logan looked down at him.

    “If the question is not too distressing…” Logan paused. “May I ask what happened to the ship you were on? The upper deck was in quite a state when we finally dared to board.”

    Virgil closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. “I don't know.”

    Logan paused, confused. “You know nothing of what happened?”

    “I assume the ship was boarded, but by who or why, I don't know anything. The screaming and yelling woke me from my sleep that night, but I was trapped in my cell below deck.” Virgil felt himself grinding his teeth for moment before he forced himself to stop. “I couldn't do anything but sit there and listen to the screaming, until—”

    "Until what, love?" Logan asked cautiously.

    "Until two of them found their way down to where I was being kept." Virgil felt numb at the memory. "They almost took me with them."

    Virgil's intonation seemed to give Logan pause. "Would that not have been better than being left in your cell?"

    "No," Virgil's voice dropped as he sifted through the unpleasant memories. "They cornered me, talking about what they could do with me. Easy money was all that was on their minds. Being left to die was a mercy compared to what could have happened. Fortunately, it seems I wasn't worth the effort."

    Logan hesitated, staring down at his hand on Virgil's neck, unsure if he wanted to continue. “Why were you being kept in a cell, Virgil?”

    “I got caught stowing away on the ship.” Virgil relaxed, relieved at the distraction from the memories playing back in his head.

    “I am unfamiliar with that particular phrase.” Logan said uncertainly.

    Virgil shrugged. “I snuck on the ship without paying for passage and I got caught hiding in their supplies.”

    Logan was quiet for so long that Virgil finally opened his eyes to look up at him, squinting through blurry vision. When Logan finally spoke, his voice quivered with barely concealed anger. “That small of an offense warrants imprisonment?”

    Virgil shrugged uncomfortably. “I didn't pay them and I was on their ship.”

    A low, guttural growl sent a chill down Virgil’s spine. Logan’s voice had a rough edge as he fumed. “You humans' greed is so great that a few lost coins is reason enough to take someone's freedom? That is an abhorrent practice.”

    Virgil shuddered at the anger in Logan's voice, shrinking back into the pillows but Logan seem to have forgotten he was there. Logan's breath was ragged as he raged. Virgil blinked wildly, suddenly uncomfortable being blinded. He sighed with relief as his vision finally came into focus and he was able to look up at Logan.

    Oh no…

    Virgil swallowed and his heart started to pound in his chest.

     He's really pretty…

    He held his breath as his gaze drifted from Logan’s soft looking hair down his sharp jawline. Virgil paused to stare at his icy, grey eyes. They looked volatile, like the clouds over the ocean as a storm approaches. He shivered, pulling his attention away from Logan's eyes, letting his gaze drop further. The top of Logan’s blue, silk shirt was open, exposing the top of his chest. He groaned throwing his head back into the pillow, his heart racing in his chest as he took in Logan's appearance.

    What is wrong with me—

    Virgil flinched as Logan's head spun down to him, but when he peeked his eyes open to look up him. A soft concern filled Logan’s eyes. All sense of danger disappeared as Logan leaned over him apologetically.

    “Oh, love. I am sorry.” Logan's voice quivered. “My anger was not intended for you. I did not mean to distress you.”

    Oh fuck. Those eyes—

    “Not distressed...” Virgil squeaked out, nervously cutting off his own thought.

    Logan looked down at him confused. “Your vocal tone and increased rate of your heartbeat lead me to believe otherwise.”

    Virgil’s gaze flicked down to Logan’s fingers in his neck.

    Fuck. I guess lying is off the table.

    “I'm not scared.” Virgil whispered desperately as he clenched his eyes shut, trying to slow his heartbeat.

    Logan paused, confused at Virgil’s words. “Well, that statement was at least more truthful than the last.”

    Fuck.

    Logan continued, trying to make sense of Virgil’s reaction. “The rate of your heart slowed as you closed your eyes—”

    Fuck.

    Logan was silent for a long time, before Virgil had the courage to peek up at him. His bravery faltered as he noticed Logan looking down at him with an annoyingly, coy smile.

    “You were finally able to see me clearly.” Logan laughed quietly. “Am I right, Virgil?”

    The edges of Virgil’s vision blurred as his breathing became ragged.   There was no use in denying anything. He desperately tried to catch his breath, unable to calm himself.

    I'm going to faint.

    Who does that?

    Who actually faints over finding someone attract—

    A pleasant tingling shot down his body as Logan’s hand gently moved from Virgil’s neck to his jaw, guiding his face up to look into Logan’s eyes. Virgil nearly lost himself looking into Logan’s eyes as he leaned in close to Virgil’s ear, inches from his neck.

    “Tell me, Virgil.”

    Virgil moaned at the feeling of Logan’s breath on his neck.

    “Do you like what you see?”

    All meaningful thought left Virgil’s mind as he listened to Logan's silky voice in his ear. His breath caught in his throat as darkness crossed his vision and he fainted back into the pillow.

-

    Logan chuckled softly to himself, reaching up to brush away the hair that had fallen into Virgil's eyes. Perhaps that hadn't been the most gentle way to put his guest to sleep, but it was certainly the most entertaining. He leaned back from Virgil, watching him as he snored peacefully. Logan sighed, smiling as he checked Virgil’s vital signs one last time before reluctantly standing to leave.

    “Sleep well, Virgil. I will return to you soon.”

    A deep hum echoed in Logan's ears as he turned to the door, drowned out only by loud, metallic creaking of the door. He cast a soft look over his shoulder at Virgil as he slipped out into the network of tunnels running underneath the island. He paused as the the door slammed shut behind him. Reaching into his pocket, Logan pulled out a heavy, metal key. He looked down at it in his hand for a moment, feeling a pang of guilt as he slipped in the lock, turning it until he felt the lock click shut. Locking his guest in his room felt unnecessary, especially given that Virgil couldn't even sit up without assistance, but it was a necessary precaution. He sighed, reminding himself that this was a temporary solution.

    He turned to leave, pressing his wrist against his ear. The previously dull hum in his head was becoming insistent. He had been kept away from his pelt much longer than he had intended and it was calling to him. Logan increased his pace, winding his way deeper into the island. He breathed heavily. The call of his pelt seemed to resonate with the stone walls around him, reverberating back at him with even greater force. Logan could feel himself fading as he turned the last corner. He was barely aware of the dim, amber light flickering in the doorway as he approached. His body shook as he stopped in the doorway. His eyes glazed over as the call of his pelt consumed him. Logan felt himself disappearing from his body as the world seemed to fall away from him.

    “Logan?!”

    The panicked voice barely registered in his mind as he disappeared deeper in his mind, overwhelmed by the call of his pelt. Vaguely, he felt hands on his arms.

    “Hold on, Lo. I've got you.”

    An eternity seemed to pass as Logan stood there. Unable to even feel if the hands were still touching him, he ached for his pelt, feeling like a stranger in his own skin. A voice spoke next to him, but the words were muddled, unintelligible among the noise in his head.

    The haze in his mind broke as his soft pelt brushed against his skin as it was pushed into his chest. Gently, he felt the world come back to him, and he wrapped his arms tightly around the grey, spotted fur burying his face in its warmth.  Arms wrapped around his shoulders as his awareness of his surroundings gradually returned to him. The grating sounds around him fell silent and he felt whole once more.

    “I hate this feeling, Roman.” Logan murmured into Roman’s chest as he relaxed.

    “I know, Logan. Please, forgive me. I'm so sorry I have to ask this of you."

    Logan pulled out of Roman's grip and looked up at him. He noticed Roman’s own dark brown pelt was wrapped around his neck as his pitiful eyes looked down at Logan. He smiled appreciatively up at Roman but his tone was serious. “I made this decision, Roman. You do not need to ask for my forgiveness. Any responsibility for my current state lies solely on my own shoulders.”

    Roman stared down him sympathetically. “Regardless, Lo. You're family and I hate seeing you suffer, especially for the sake of some human.”

    “His life is no less valuable than mine, Roman.” Logan said tiredly.

    “If I thought he believed the same about you, I'd agree with you, but humans never do.” Roman exhaled bitterly.

    “Virgil is different. He barely seems to think his life is worth my time, let alone worth more than my own life.” Logan glanced up to see a skeptical look on Roman’s face.

    “Virgil?”

    “The human.” Logan corrected himself. He hung his head at the serious look in Roman's eyes.

    “Don't get attached, Logan. He's not staying. As soon as he's well, he will leave.” Roman voice was empathetic but firm.

    Logan took a deep breath, crossing his arms nervously in front of him. He hung his head lower. His voice was barely a whisper. “I connected with him, Roman.”

    A heavy silence hung between them. When Roman finally spoke, Logan shuddered at the edge in his voice. “You what?”

    “I connected with him, Roman.” Logan’s voice was stronger, though he couldn't help as his voice quivered at the end of his sentence.

   “You already have—” Roman yelled, but Logan cut him off.

    “I know.” Logan spat out. "I did not ask for this, Roman."

    “That’s not even possible. He's human, Lo.”

    “It is an unlikely occurrence, but not impossible, Roman.” Logan muttered, unable to meet Roman’s gaze. His stomach twisted with guilt for defying Roman’s authority, even if he did so unwillingly.

    “Logan, you don't know what you're saying—"

    Logan head shot up to Roman, anger burning in his eyes as he interrupted him. “Are you suggesting I do not know what a soul connection feels like, Roman?”

    “No. Of course not, Logan." Roman’s face immediately softened.  "I'm just... surprised. Does he know?”

    “I do not believe Virgil knows about the existence of soul connections.” Logan looked away guiltily.

    “I wasn't referring to the human, Logan.” Roman said flatly.

    “No, Roman. I have not seen him since we returned from the ship.” Logan looked down at his feet. “I am planning on going him after I leave here.”

    “You'll tell him tonight. Won't you?”

    “Yes, Roman.” Logan said bitterly.  “I am aching to tell him. You know I would not deceive him.”

    “I know, Logan.” Roman stepped forward, gently pulling Logan into another hug. “I don't mean to interrogate you. I trust you. This whole situation just makes me nervous. We still don't even know this human's role in what happened to that ship.”

    “Virgil is not responsible. He was imprisoned where we found him the entire time the ship was attacked." Logan yawned, leaning into Roman's chest.

    “Lo, your willingness to trust people is endearing,” Roman sighed, looking down at him. “But this human could simply be lying to you.”

    Logan shook his head. “I was checking his heartbeat, when I asked. I would have been able to tell if he was lying. It was steady the entire time he talked about it, and given how he reacted to other things I said to him, I believe it is a safe assumption that he is not practiced in concealing his emotions.”

    Roman raised an eyebrow at him. “Did the human know what you were doing?”

    Logan shook his head, barely looking up.

    “You’re a bastard, Logan.” Roman couldn’t help cracking a smile as he released Logan.

   “I have been called worse.” Logan smirked tiredly at him and shrugged as he swayed tiredly. “I honestly doubt he would have refused if I had told him what I was doing, but this way the results are more compelling.”

    Roman nodded absently. “They aren't absolute though, Lo. You still need to be cautious. Even if he wasn't responsible for that ship, he could still be dangerous, especially if he got a hold of one of our pelts.”

    “Virgil is not a danger to us.” Logan barely managed to stifle a yawn as he spoke.

    “I know you mean well, but trusting the wrong person has gotten you in trouble before, Lo." Roman sighed sympathetically. "All I'm asking is that you keep your guard up.”

    “I will, Roman.” Logan smiled weakly at him.

    “Good.” Roman put a hand on his shoulder, guiding him to the door. “Now, go get some rest. You’ve done enough for today.”

    Logan nodded, letting Roman lead him out. He turned his head back over his shoulder at Roman. A small appreciative smile crossed his face. “Thank you, Roman. For allowing me to save him.”

     Roman laughed, giving him one last gentle push out the door. “Don't worry about it, Lo. I'm here to look out for you. Regardless of whether I approve of your decisions or not.”

    Logan nodded, smiling tiredly as he wrapped his pelt around his shoulders and made his way out into the network of caves. He yawned loudly, looking forward to some long overdue rest.

[wonderlustlucas]

i hemoglobin you - byun baekhyun

⇢ prompt “Yeah, but Baekhyun doesn’t really talk romantics with me.” ⇢ pairing baekhyun x gender neutral reader ⇢ word count 4.8k ⇢ genre fluff ⇢ warnings swearing. kinda descriptive when it comes to the actual needle idk i’m bad at warnings if needles make u uncomfy don’t read. ⇢ summary You’d think, after some time, your crush on the annoying little shit named Byun Baekhyun would fade away. Fortunately for him (and you), falling out of love with someone brighter than a star is near impossible. Plus, needles are scary and even med kids need their hand held sometimes. Alternatively: Junmyeon found dead in a ditch.—friends to lovers!au ; college blood drive!au ⇢ a/n ok yes i realize this is an odd setting for fanfiction but like,,, my school had a blood drive & what happens in this is exactly what i experienced, minus the whole crush revealing they like me with a kiss thing. so i decided to WRITE IT OKAY?! also, i really tried to make this gender, color, absolutely everything reader neutral but then when i was editing i saw the nurse call y/n ‘miss’ so if i missed anything pls lmk so i can edit it!!! thank u & i hope u enjoy ♥︎

If it weren’t for that time you tried anal with your ex-boyfriend back in high school, you’d consider Byun Baekhyun to be the biggest pain in your ass. If asked, you definitely could come up with a hefty list of all the things about him that annoy the living daylights out of you, things from the unnecessary high volume of his voice to the time he introduced himself as “Bacon” on the first day of your internship at the hospital.

Truthfully, however, it all comes down to one certain realization: seeing Baekhyun’s stupidly cute smile has become the sole thing you look forward to everyday. For the first two years at university, you did not know Byun Baekhyun. You knew of him. As fate would have it, you were bound to meet at some point with an undergraduate enrollment of around four thousand, and your sanity began its downward tumble the third week of junior year.

At the time, you couldn’t quite put your finger on why he left such a sour taste in your mouth. From a distance, he was a star; this great, big bundle of sunshine and joy, full of life and spirit and in the eyes of someone as mild-mannered as yourself, he was magnificent and everything you wished you were. But, once the barrier between you fell and your relationship swiftly jumped from strangers to friends, you realized just how polar opposite you were. Always going out of his way to meet new people and a little too chaotic for you personally, Baekhyun draws attention to himself without even trying. And you can’t blame him— it’s hard to go unnoticed when you prance around with a thousand-watt smile and the energy of a three-month-old golden retriever.

Sometimes, you wished he had chosen one of the arts as his major rather than health sciences.

Nevertheless, it is hard to ignore such an innocently beautiful soul such as Baekhyun. No matter how many times you told yourself to find a new lab partner, no matter how many countless nights you found yourself rolling out of bed, bundled up in your blankets and into the cold hallway of your residence hall to knock on Park Chanyeol’s door and tell him to open the window for his frost-bitten roommate hiding in the bushes, no matter how many this or how many that’s, you couldn’t help but fall in love with the friendship and chaos that came with Byun Baekhyun.

If it weren’t for that time you tried anal with your ex-boyfriend back in high school, you’d consider Byun Baekhyun to be the love of your life.

“Absolutely not,” you interrupt, looking up from your clipboard in order to search the crowd for the younger boy. Baekhyun groans, wrapping his arms around your waist and dropping his head on your shoulder. “C’mon, ___. He’s fine, you know Sehun.” He whines, adding a drawn-out ‘please’ against your ear. It makes your stomach sink for reasons you’d rather not disclose.

“Baek,” you scoff, wiggling out of his grip despite his best efforts of keeping you against him, “are you serious? Sehun quite possibly may be the smallest person in this room. He needs to rest.”

“He’s twenty pounds heavier than me!”

“Taller, too.”

“___,” he groans, crossing his arms over his chest and mustering his best straight face. It makes you laugh.

“I’m not arguing with you. He did Power Red; he’s not going anywhere. If he didn’t want to miss chem, then he should have made his appointment later. It’s one class. He’ll be fine.”

“Why must you be so stubborn?” Baekhyun sighs in defeat, combing muted silver hair away from his forehead. Your eyes follow the movement, distracted for hardly a second, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “I learned it from you,” you smile, nudging his arm with your elbow. The signature tilted smirk returns. “Tell Sehun I’m sorry, but I—well, we—can’t risk letting him leave. He could have a delayed effect and end up passed out in the staircase. Twenty more minutes and he can go.”

“I get it,” he hums, snatching the tentative schedule out of your hands before you can even protest. For as rash as he may be, Baekhyun is not dumb. And even if he was, he knows that when you are as unrelenting as you are now, there’s no point in arguing. “I think I’m gonna try and donate.”

“What?” You exclaim, maybe a little too loud if all the Red Cross employees shooting annoyed glares your way is anything to go by. Baekhyun truly is started to rub off on you. “I thought you were scared of needles?”

“Heights, ___,” he scoffs, “needles aren’t my favorite, but if I’m going to eventually put them in other people, I better get used to them for myself.” As he explains, he rolls up the sleeves of his hoodie and presses at the soft skin on the inside of his arm before stretching it out for your examination. “I mean,” you hum, holding him still and feeling around for a thick enough vein, “you definitely have the veins. Do you want me to hold your hand?” You sing the last part cutely, lips puckered out at him.

“Will you? Since Sehun has to stay over there, I have no one else,” Baekhyun retorts, using your previous resolve to his advantage. You can’t tell if he’s oblivious or simply choosing to ignore your mockery. Rolling your eyes, you drop his arm and reach for your clipboard, tearing it out of his grasp. “Don’t you have anything else better to do than annoy me? Aren’t you supposed to be watching the donors?”

“Well, yes, but—”

Baekhyun starts, trailing behind you before the shout of his name promptly cuts him off. “Baekhyun! Can you help Jongdae carry in more water?” See, precisely as you were saying.

“But I like annoying you,” he pouts, hugging onto your arm and holding on tight. “Sorry, Baek,” you offer, feelings in shambles because 1) he is so cute you could cry but 2) he’s really distracting and now you finally will be able to focus, at least while he’s gone. Frowning, he releases your arm at last, combing his hair back and once again, you feel like throwing up.

“Go see if you can donate when you’re done,” you remind him, nodding toward the rather quiet donor room. “Yeah, I will. Wish me luck,” Baekhyun grins, blowing you a kiss. Without a second thought, you blow one back.

You have begun walking on an incredibly unstable rope, you realize, the thin line distinguishing the way you look at Baekhyun diminishing each and every day. On one side, he is simply your friend, your lab partner, a coworker of sorts. Comrades working toward the same goal, and once it’s reached, you go your separate ways. But on the other hand, he is much more than that. Now that you no longer live on campus, days spent bullshitting in the dining hall or dorms over, you most certainly do not spend as much time together.

And yet, nothing has changed. Except for your feelings, of course. This time last year, you were minding your own damn business when Chanyeol had to go and mention how much time Baekhyun spends with you instead of him. “Sorry?” You had offered, unsure of what the crease in his brow meant.

“No… don’t be sorry,” he hummed, deep in thought and stabbing at his salad in disinterest, “not to be blunt, but he usually bounces from person to person each week. He’s been sticking to you for, what, six months? Something is up.”

“Don’t you live with him?” You asked, confused. What was he getting at here?

“Yeah, but Baekhyun doesn’t really talk romantics with me.”

“Romantics?” You exclaimed, spit flying from your lips. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice.

“He definitely likes you. God, it all makes sense now! Okay, I need to do some interrogating,” suddenly rushing, Chanyeol was up and swinging his bag over his shoulder before you could blink an eye. “See ya, ___!”

“Wait!” You yelled out for him, but the obnoxiously tall boy just kept running, dodging students meandering around the dining hall. Slumping in your chair, you eventually turned to look out the window, watching as he continued his flight across campus. “Good talk.”

Nothing ever came up afterward. No answers, no clarifications, nada. Chanyeol never brought it up again, despite the expectant raise of your brows the next lunch you had alone with him. You were content shrugging it off— it was out of your hands. If Baekhyun liked you, so be it.

Or so you thought. Turns out, having such unanswered questions dangling over your head every time Baekhyun left his friends for you at parties, fell asleep with his head on your shoulder during chem, or arrived at your front door with your favorite boba in hand just because he ‘was driving by’ left your mind racing almost as fast as your heart. You thought, for some time, that you could dodge such budding emotions by countering it with all the things you didn’t like about Baekhyun. (Spoiler: it didn’t work.)

Even now, as you watch him catch up with Jongdae, the left side of your brain has already begun arguing with the right. You miss his annoying ass already, one side points out. But he was a distraction, now you have double the students to check in, the other reasons. With a heavy sigh, you shake your head to rid such enraging thoughts and turn to said students, counting each one before making your way to the first in line.

He can’t donate. You realize this before he has even left his seat.

From across the gymnasium, you have continued glancing his way as he went through the mini physical. Just before the finger prick, he shot you a thumbs up and a beaming smile bright enough to challenge the Sun before jerking in his seat at the sudden pinch. Laughing, the grin you returned has not even left your face before his shoulders are sagging, a cloud of disappointment replacing the anxious excitement that was there hardly ten seconds ago. Your smile is gone just as quickly as his.

Standing, Baekhyun nods one last time to the nurse before making his way over, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck from side to side. “Low iron?” You guess, opening your arms for him to nestle into your side like the little munchkin he is. “Yeah,” he mumbles, miserable, and you cringe knowing he’s going to be like this all day now. “I wish I could donate, but…” You drone emptily, trying to change the subject despite the deceitfulness of your ‘wish.’ Over your dead body would you lie on one of those tables and have a harpoon in your arm.

“You should, now that I can’t,” he hums, breath warm on your skin. Convincing as snuggly Baekhyun is, it’s not happening. “Yeah, I’ll pass,” you snort, offering a faux smile to a group of sophomore girls making their way in, shooting confused and envious glances your way. “Make sure to grab a water before starting your Rapid Pass, ladies. If you have not eaten much today, there are snacks by Katie,” you spew, pointing to said girl across the room, “if you have any questions, let me know.” With one last feeble smile, you turn your back to them because, well, it’s awkward facing multiple females whose eyes are trained solely on the boy clinging to you.

“You’re hot when your all doctor,” Baekhyun whispers, lips brushing ever so softly against your collarbone. Suddenly, you regret taking your sweatshirt off during lunch. Swallowing past the panic rising in your throat, you scoff. “Doctor? What doctor are you seeing that directs their patients toward donuts, muffins, danishes—”

“Hot ones, I guess,” he interrupts, smirking against your skin. “Ooooh ‘kay,” you wheeze, heart racing and eyes wide as you wiggle away from him, “y’know, maybe I will donate. Just so you stop bugging me.” Gasping, Baekhyun fakes a bullet to the heart. “Ah, but here’s the thing,” he counters, following close behind as you make your way to the front table, “my job is to distract donors from the needle, hold their hand, tell them ‘good job!’ So, it looks like you’re stuck with me.”

Groaning, you choose to ignore the inexhaustible boy and smile to Lauren once you have reached her. “Do you know if anyone can cover for me for a little? I’m going to try and donate.”

Gasping, she ruffles through the papers spread about her for the volunteer log. Then, “You should be fine. After those girls, the next appointment isn’t until two. I thought you hated this whole concept?”

Snorting, you pull one of the laptops towards you and begin filling out the information needed for a walk-in. “Yeah, well,” tilting your head in Baekhyun’s direction, you sigh, “he couldn’t donate, so now I feel obligated to. Plus, I need a break.”

“Ah,” Lauren hums, writing your name and ‘Walk-In’ on a sticker before passing it to you, “are you guys…?”

Immediately catching what she is hinting at, you jump up from your knelt position and quickly return to your station. “Nope! Negative! Okay, bye Lauren! Thanks!” Laughing, she chooses to ignore your antics, watching after you with a knowing smile when Baekhyun realizes you have left and scrambles to catch up.

You’re hoping you won’t be eligible since you left the country for vacation with your family nine months ago.

Never mind. It’s fine.

Perhaps your heart rate will be too high. You’re pretty anxious, after all.

84. Shit.

You flinch when the quiet-mannered nurse pricks your ring finger. Praying that your iron will be too low, you lean forward in your seat just enough to see the machine’s reading. 13.4. Fuck.

“Alright, I’m just gonna need you to read this first paragraph and sign here,” she directs you, using a pen to point at each spot. When she stands to wave for the next potential donor, you glance up to search for Baekhyun. You could use one of his smiles right about now.

And what you ask for, you receive. Finding your gaze instantaneously, he shoots you bright, encouraging grin and a thumbs up. It’s enough to calm your nerves. A little.

Offering an uncomfortable smile back, you return to your paperwork and hurriedly finish up, your leg bouncing ceaselessly. “All done?” The nurse returns, smiling softly at you and taking the papers when you nod. “You can head over to the third table in the middle.” “Okie,” you squeak, nice, “thank you!”

Good god, what happened to never allowing one of these needles to go in your arm? Sure, you have had blood tests done before, Hell, you have even given someone else one! But this… this is different. This is no ordinary needle, and you certainly do not have Byun Baekhyun veins.

“How are you doing today?” The Red Cross worker greets you once you have reached the table, smile warm and comforting. Seoyeon, her nametag reads. “I’m, ah… I’ve been better, honestly,” your voice comes out shaky and weak. You cringe. Going to med school and you’re whining over a needle. A big, fat, wide needle that will stay in your arm for more than five minutes. “Aw, no! Why’s that?” Seoyeon pouts, shuffling through your papers and slapping a big sticker onto the bag your blood, eventually, will fill.

“I have pretty tiny veins, so I’m really nervous this isn’t going to go well for me,” you admit, artfully rolling the sleeves of your tee even higher. Humming as she finishes carrying over the rest of the equipment, Seoyeon helps you onto the cushioned table before standing beside you, reaching for your arms. “Well,” she starts, brushing over each one for a few seconds before tying a tourniquet around your right bicep, “lucky for you, we do in fact check to make sure your veins are big enough. Hansol, can you double-check that this is alright?”

Your nerves seemingly do not know how to feel at the given moment. On one hand, these are professionals. They know what they’re doing. Plus, Seoyeon is lovely and has certainly eased your anxiety. Nevertheless, you realize that if your veins are okay, that needle is going to be in you in minutes.

This Hansol skirts around the table to feel the two veins Seoyeon has gone back and forth prodding. “Hm,” he grunts, pressing harder on the vein set deeper beneath your skin, “this one is good.” Oh, Christ. “Okay! Thanks,” Seoyeon smiles, then, once he has left her side, “you can lie back this way, sweetie.”

“Okay,” you sigh, settling back and resting your head on the pillow. Unsure of how to situate yourself, you awkwardly cross your legs and nestle your left arm into the pockets of your joggers, right arm dangling over the edge of the table. Then, just as you have closed your eyes, “___!”

Oh, good. This should be interesting. “Hey, Baek,” you smile at the boy as he jogs over, stopping on your left side. “You made it! No backing out now, right?”

“No, no. I’m praying for the best,” you hum, turning away from him to look straight up at the ceiling as Seoyeon begins sanitizing your arm. “You’re gonna be fine,” Baekhyun sings, tugging your hand out of your pocket to intertwine his fingers with yours, “if Sehun could do it, so can you.”

“I’m just marking where your vein is, no need to tense up,” Seoyeon interrupts, chuckling at how easily your posture has gone rigid at the sensation. Funny, how you only tensed up because of Baekhyun’s tender gesture. “I know I’ll be okay, I just,” anxiously licking the desert-dryness of your lips, you once again turn to Baekhyun, “I’m not looking forward to feeling this thing in my arm for ten minutes.”

“Nah,” he giggles, thumb swiping back and forth against your skin, “I’ll distract you!” Yeah, well you do that every day anyway, you snort to yourself, shamelessly taking advantage of the moment and scanning over his features, zoning in on the pinkness of his lips and the tiny moles sprinkled about his face. From this angle, even the shitty LED lighting of the gym somehow makes him look immaculate. “Alright, I’m going to count down from three,” Seoyeon interrupts your gawking, though you haven’t really processed her words until she’s on two. “One…” She utters, and you are instantly squeezing your eyes closed just as hard as your squeezing Baekhyun’s hand as the needle first breaks skin.

“Oh, shit,” you heave once it’s completely sheathed, rolling the plastic grip anxiously in your increasingly sweaty hand, “that actually wasn’t so bad.” Now that Baekhyun has moved to stand directly behind your head, you stare straight up at him and muster your best smile. Really— it was not as bad as you imagined, felt just like regular blood work. As long as you don’t focus too much on it remaining in your arm, you’ll be fine.

“See! I knew you could do it,” he cheers, letting go of your free hand in favor of combing his fingers through your hair. “Ooh,” you quite literally purr, leaning your head back to give him further access, “so, Mr. This-Is-My-Job, is this how you distract donors?” Chuckling, Baekhyun continues to comb through the knots that have accumulated throughout the day. “No,” he admits, “I usually just talk to them about what they did over the weekend. You’re an exception, though.”

Christ, you hope he can’t feel the way your face heats up at his words. “Ah, well, this is great. Thanks, Baek,” humming, you cannot help but let your eyelids fall closed. Peak comfort when you're donating blood? Not what you would have expected.

“So, what did you do this weekend?”

“Well, I went to Target, which was kind of disappointing.”

“Oh, yeah! Didn’t I see on your story that you only got one pair of pants or something?”

“Yeah! Crazy, honestly. I needed to pick up some things and they were completely out. Even their clothes were kind of slacking.” Before he can reply, Seoyeon returns to check up on you. Gasping in surprise, she gives your shoulder a congratulatory nudge. “___! Look at you! You’ve already filled up a fourth of the bag.”

“Oh shit, really?” Laughing, you try to lean up in order to see, but there’s no use. “Have you been drinking a lot of water today?” She asks. Well, now that you think about it… “Huh. I guess I have. Nice.” Chuckling, she fiddles with the tape holding the needle in place before turning away once more.

“So,” Baekhyun starts conversation up once more, “did you do anything else?”

“I hung out with Junmyeon on Sunday again.” Suddenly, you wish you didn’t tell him that.

“Oh,” Baekhyun coughs, accidentally yanking too hard on the tiny braid he’s attempted by your temple, “how was that?”

“It was fun. He’s a great guy…” Clearly, you are hesitant and he easily catches it. “But…?”

“I don’t know,” he’s not you, “I feel really immature and lame compared to him. He’s like, super chill and polite and somehow, it makes me nervous and then I act like I’m on crack. He needs someone older than him, not younger. A lawyer, or something.”

“___, you’re getting a degree in Neuroscience. What the fuck is lame about that?” Baekhyun scoffs, undoing the braid and starting over on the other side. “I don’t know! I guess I just don’t have romantic feelings for him. Everyone keeps pushing me to go for it and he really is amazing, but… it’s just not what I want.”

“No one’s forcing you to date him, ___.”

Well, yeah, but he doesn’t know the bit where your friends are doing it so you can get over a certain someone else. “I know. I think he’ll be fine when I tell him I just want to be friends.”

When a heavy silence falls over you, you rush to change the topic. “So! What did you do this weekend?”

“I played New Horizons,” Baekhyun chuckles, giving up on the braid and going back to simply combing through your hair. When you laugh, you feel the vibration in your arm and realize with another wave of surprise that you still have a needle in you. Damn, looks like you’re a pro at this. Who knew!

“All weekend?” You snort. He definitely went out for drinks with Chanyeol or something.

“Yes, sadly,” oh, never mind, “I couldn’t help it. It’s so relaxing. I can’t wait to go home and play.” He sounds ashamed. “Hey,” you shrug, “sometimes we need a mental health day. Or weekend.”

“Or week.”

“Month?”

“Year, I’m thinking.”

In the midst of your giggle fit, Seoyeon returns, evidently shutting the two of you up. “You’re all done! I just have to take a few tubes and then I’ll tell you when I’m going to take the needle out.”

“Wow, was it just me or did that seem really quick?” Baekhyun asks, frantically moving to hold your hand when he notices you wince at the uncomfortable feel of the needle moving slightly as Seoyeon fills each tube. “No, you’re right,” she hums, “six minutes! Wasn’t so bad, right?”

“Not at all,” you agree, blinking up at the ceiling. Still, you can’t wait to be done. “You sure? Your hand is shaking really bad,” Baekhyun murmurs,  hovering directly above your face. He looks funny, messy hair cascading around him and cheeks looking extra squishy. It makes you smile. “Yeah, just nervous for it to come out, actually. Feel like it’s gonna hurt,” you admit, accidentally squeezing his hand when all Seoyeon does is remove the tape on your wrist keeping the line in place.

“Alright, you ready? It’s just going to a be a little pinch,” Seoyeon interrupts, giving your fingertips a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah,” you hum, instinctively sucking in a deep breath and squeezing your eyes shut.

The sensation that first registers in your brain is not that of Seoyeon slowly withdrawing the needle from beneath your skin. Actually, it’s unnoticeable behind the gentle pressure lingering upon your lips, soft to touch and minty in taste. Blistex, you recognize, eyes flying open just in time to see Baekhyun leaning back up. “Did you just—”

“Alright, keep pressure on this for me and keep your arm straight up,” Seoyeon interjects, oblivious to what just transpired as she presses a hefty square of gauze to your skin. You oblige, brain cells going haywire still trying to piece together the fact that Byun Baekhyun just kissed you.

“Do you do that to everyone?” Is the first thing you blurt to the grinning boy, who, surprisingly so, wears cheeks just as rosy as yours. “No,” he laughs, moving to the side and continuing to stroke you hand, “just donors named ___.”

“Oh,” wrinkling your nose, you slowly lean upright once Seoyeon instructs you to do so, “can I ask why or am I just special?” When she busies herself for few moments cleaning up all of the equipment, Baekhyun releases your hand in order to cup your face with both hands. “Well, of course you’re special,” he murmurs, thumbs swiping against your jaw, “but I figured this was a good opportunity to show you how much I like you.”

It takes a fat second for you to realize what he’s just said. Like you?

“I’m gonna kill him,” you groan, definitely not the response he was expecting if the way he retracts is anything to go by. “Kill who?”

“Chanyeol! Like, a year ago he went all detective mode on me trying to figure out if you liked me, but then he never said anything again, so for the past year I’ve been going nuts trying not to fall for you because I figured if he had nothing to say, you probably didn’t like me like that, yet here we are a year later and—”

In the midst of your mindless babbling, Seoyeon coughs, promptly shutting you up and you turn to her with a wince. “I just need to wrap you up, then you can head over to Recovery,” her attempt to hide her smile is futile but you don’t comment on it, instead allowing her to wrap elastic tape around your elbow. “Leave this on for about an hour, or you can take it off after twenty minutes. Other than that, you’re good to go!”

“Thanks so much, Seoyeon,” smiling appreciatively at her, you slowly turn to slide off the table with the help of her grip on your other arm. Before you are even fully upright, Baekhyun has rounded the table to help, slipping his arm between yours. Honestly, you feel perfectly fine, but you’re not about to go arguing right now. Once he starts leading the two of you toward Recovery, he breaks the silence once more. “So, were you finished back there, or can I talk?”

Cringing, you shake your head, avoiding looking him in the eyes. “No, I’m done.”

“Good,” at this, you pinch his arm, “Chanyeol didn’t say anything because I told him not to.” Baekhyun shushes you when your mouth opens to argue. “I thought I would make a move a lot sooner. But every time I went to, I just started panicking thinking you didn’t feel the same, because, y’know, you don’t show much emotion. And then you started hanging out with Junmyeon… but that doesn’t seem to be working out, so I decided to wing it.”

Your jaw certainly must be on the floor. Stopping by the snacks, Baekhyun releases your arm so you can fill your hands with a donut, apple juice, and a bag of Cheez-Its. “Glad to see we’re both airheads,” you grumble with a mouthful of donut, “I say we blame Chanyeol.” Making sure you safely seat yourself onto the mats spread around the room, Baekhyun then joins and sits crisscross across from you. “I agree. It’s his fault.”

Then, once you have stopped laughing, Baekhyun leans in close, face centimeters from yours and evidently stealing all the air from your lungs. God, he sure is beautiful. “This means you’ll go out with me, right?” He whispers, wiping away a sprinkle that has managed to stick itself to the corner of your lips.

“I thought you were going to play New Horizons when you got home?” You tease, raising one arm to sling across his shoulders. Groaning, he finally cups your face in his hands, strawberry pink lips ever so slightly brushing yours as his smirk deepens. “I am, but you can come watch.”

[melforbes]

seaglass blue annotations

hello! i just posted the last chapter and thought i’d put together some ~fun context~ for that fic. it got way way more attention than i ever expected and for something i feel i didn’t put that much effort into i think i did in the end put a lot of effort into it so i might as well talk about it and answer some potential questions.

my favorite book of all time is the sunlit night by rebecca dinerstein (yes, that one) and something i find really compelling about that book is how sparing the prose is, forcing the reader to fill in certain gaps, and i think having to fill in those gaps makes the book a really acquired taste with which either you love it or hate it and there’s not really an in-between

i also really adore how in that book the natural world backdrop comes to life, something i find really challenging to write. recently i even read into thin air, the book about the 1996 mount everest disaster, and even though the writing was superb, i still had to google what the hillary step was because i couldn’t picture it on my own. i don’t know how people write nature because to me it feels damn near impossible, but this sparing approach really worked, so i thought i might try it out. i tend to be longwinded (gestures vaguely at this post) and wanted to have certain parts of this be a lot smaller and more contained without negating impact. whether or not i made it work is anyone’s guess. definitely not my normal style, so to speak

based on the comments i’ve received i think this might be everyone’s favorite part. in my mind age of consent by new order was playing in the background. in pretty much every fic i have a scene like this one and all of them are based on the poem first base gold by rh*annon mcg*vin from her book branches (censored because she has a tumblr and i don’t want her seeing this haha)

i absolutely can’t do the poem justice by describing what it’s about, but the simplest, most basic interpretation of the poem is that there is no better place to kiss than right here, right now, because of the past. i really like that imagery and tend to use it a lot. she as a writer has been a big inspiration for me and if you’ve read my fic true minds i should add that the nonfiction inspiration for that was directly as a result of one of her youtube videos. i particularly love how the last paragraph (stanza? im not a poet) is one big run-on sentence that’s jovial and tongue-in-cheek and colloquial and straightforward. it feels triumphant in a quiet way to me and i love how it’s done. obviously my attempts at something similar are nowhere near as insightful, but still, the most basic image of this is that there is no better place to kiss, and that’s how i felt about the two of them finding pudding in the supermarket

this part is autobiographical; while writing this last year, i went through six months of intravenous drug treatment, a month and a half of which involved long days of doctor visits on every weekday. when you’re on stuff like that for a long time you end up with a central line for better access (potential plot hole in all of this: scully never had one) but for a month and a half i got poked almost every day and strangely enough it got harder over time. the first couple you never feel, but a week or two later you start flinching, and if the needle goes in the same vein each time, it hurts the more it gets prodded. i reached a point toward the end of the in-office visits in which i would bleed a lot every time i got poked, and i can’t watch anything like that happen to me so i was looking away each time, and when i felt that the nurse was done, i would look back over, and sometimes i would be looking down at a pool of blood that i hadn’t expected to see. it’s weird, you don’t actually feel yourself bleeding, i would’ve expected a hot bloody feeling but instead it felt like nothing. and when i say a pool i mean that it would drip down beneath my elbow, stain the sheet they’d put underneath, and i wouldn’t get all of it off until i showered. i didn’t necessarily find it scary, but it was surreal and kind of pulled me out of normalizing the experience i was having. for a very long time needing iv drugs was my greatest fear and i was surrounded by that then and fine, and then, there was blood all over my arm, and like, haha, this is actually not fine. you’d think something else would’ve been scarier, but it wasn’t. and now looking back at this paragraph i wish i’d edited it differently but hey that’s life

i’d never really understood the purpose of religion as a self-driven part of life until i took anatomy in college. i was raised catholic and though culturally i understand having a religion and being raised with one, i’ve never really reached for religion when i wanted answers, and i haven’t personally understood why that’s someone’s first option. and i know there’s been plenty of commentary on the hypocrisy of dana scully as a catholic who believes in science, yada yada yada, i think everyone has read all of that by now. but what struck me while learning anatomy is that there is a kind of neuron we don’t know the function of. there are four kinds of neurons, and one of them is still a mystery to us. and then, there’s all of these different parts of human bodies that exist in a certain perfect way, but why do they exist like that? to support life, yes, but why is it that we can make comparisons? why were irises not the same color? and we name valves of the heart after religious figures. we are so hell-bent on meaning that something literal will never be enough. and all of that made me think that dana scully has god to fill in what science won’t answer, at least not yet. and there’s definitely a bigger conversation about science as denial of indigenous cultures that i am nowhere near qualified to start. after taking those classes, i think i would be more shocked if she wasn’t religious. you can ignore pretty much all of the paragraph above but it was important to me that at some point in this fic she willingly conceded that she didn’t know what would happen and that she didn’t have answers. with illness, there is no logic, there’s no thinking your way out of it, and i think that would plague her for a long time. to me, she only would accept her death when she could say she had no idea what would happen, she has no answers, there’s nothing filling in her gaps anymore, and she’s comfortable with that. and i put all of that in a paragraph about my thoughts on god because it made sense to me. there are times that just feel like you’re in a movie and there’s no one else you can say caused them. it’s not enough to build belief on but it’s enough to bring a certain kind of wonder. also one time my parents insisted on watching stripes because it was so funny and when watching it none of us found it funny at all and my parents grimaced and were like what were we on that made that good back in the day so that’s in here now haha

and now, the biggest question: does she die at the end? when i came up with the idea for this fic, i knew the beginning and ending but not the middle, and i posted this as a smaller project (ie: chapters below 3,000 words) while illness made my bigger projects harder to work on and essentially flew by the seat of my pants the whole time. i wrote the last line a long long time ago and have always seen the ending as written as the concrete ending. when i started writing this, i never intended for there to be a definitive answer to whether or not she dies. i like premature endings (the ending of girls burn brighter comes to mind) and i think that this works better without saying whether or not she lives. and i also have a hard time with giving a definitive answer because this fic very much is about death and having her die would, of course, be traumatic, but showing her living instead i think ruins any takeaways people could have. i’ve never had cancer but as a chronically ill person i think i can speak to how you never actually win with illness; the best you can do is tie, and sometimes, no matter how much effort you put in, you “lose” anyway, you lose spectacularly, and all of your effort was for nothing. i wholeheartedly believe that humans can’t emotionally or logically process natural disasters or illness, hence why much of the talk about illness in this is from mulder’s perspective as he experiences her terminal illness secondhand; that way, he doesn’t need to (but still likely will) find logic or reason or meaning for death from a terminal illness, so his discoveries and his coping mechanisms aren’t as urgently needed. had i written a chapter that describes how she lives, i think that the discussion of death in this would be voided altogether. and i also don’t believe the ending would be much different whether she lives or dies; there’s still the need for death acceptance and talking about dying, whether or not she lives, and none of the story in this fic would have happened had the characters known she would live. the whole point is not knowing.

for a little while i toyed with writing an unofficial sequel of sorts in which i spelled out what i think happens after the ending, but after realizing that that would end up being longer than the original fic and would also have some massive plot holes, i decided against it. i do have my own version and i don’t want to share that version because i never really intended for my version to be some kind of genuine sequel in which every question gets answered and everything is wrapped up and happy ever after and whatnot. it was just where my brain wandered in the same way it wanders when i watch an open-ended movie. all of that to say, if you think she lives, then she lives. if you think she dies, then she dies. it’s your decision. i’d much rather you choose than me. i never marked this as “major character” death on ao3 because, well, she doesn’t die in this fic. whether or not she dies after the fic ends, that’s for you to decide. 

thank you for taking the time to read my writing. i never expected this to blow up (it blew up for me at least, for a while it was my most popular fic ever, with i think thousands more hits than anything else i’d written) and the response has been mind-boggling and wonderful. i don’t respond to comments often because it makes me feel like a pompous jerk (”thank you for enjoying this! i, too, enjoy this thing i have written! oh ho ho!” is how it sounds to me in my head, whereas when other writers respond to comments to me it just looks like thanks man have a good day, feel free to call me a weenie) but i’ve appreciated all of them very much. THANK YOU! i hope your new year is a Whole Lot Less Shit than 2020. i don’t plan on writing more msr because i don’t really have any ideas for them. thank you for making my last time special <3

[ikenbar]

Mr Love: Ike’s Choice CH 5 PT 1

Author’s Note:

Chapter five baby!! This is gonna be a fun one!! It is chock-full of fluff, angst, adventure, and thickening plot!! Only the best for Ikamara’s story B) I plan on taking lines straight from the game in this story. Normally I would make annotations but, after rereading the parts I have done that with, I have noticed that they can distract from the story. And because I have a lot of lines from the game in the coming chapters, I am just going to put the reference to the stages in the warning. If you have a problem with this, send me a message! Though I do write Ikamara’s story for myself, I also want to make the experience as pleasurable for any one reading as possible.

Thank you so much for the love and support for my story! Please read the author’s note (and the beginning of the story) on chapter one part one if you’re new here and would like to be familiar with the story!! :D

Enjoy Chapter Five!! :D

- Ike ‘n Bar Productions

Warnings: Words taken directly from Stage 8-1 from the game Mr. Love: A Queen’s Choice, there is also FLUFF!!!, sad children, ~✨🌈Gayness🌈✨~, and plot development that makes you  beg for more but are sadly left on yet aNOTHER cliffhanger :D

Prologue:

>>

The man in the white lab coat walked behind Marie as they made their way back down that familiarly dank hallway. They were quiet but that didn’t mean Marie would have it any other way. From all the medical talk and strange languages they spoke, silence seemed like the only thing she could understand anymore. 

They came to a stop in front of a door. He opened it and gestured for Marie to go in. She timidly did so, allowing him to close it shut behind her and lock it. It was a simple room with two beds. Not much there but it was enough. 

In one of the beds sat Marie’s roommate, and best friend. Normally the girl would be smiling and greet Marie with open arms, but today, she was just sitting on the bed, crying. Immediately, Marie ran to her side.

“What’s wrong?” Marie’s squeaky voice made the girl jump. She hurriedly wiped her eyes.

“Nothing.” The girl mumbled.

“Oh come on.” Marie jumped onto the bed and next to the girl, “You can’t say that right after wiping away tears.”

“...it’s just that.” The girl slowly began, “...I’m tired of the testing. I’d just wish they’d stop pricking us with those needles. You’re so lucky. Your skin is so thick, you don’t need needles.”

“Nah, I still get the needles.” Marie kicked her feet over the bed and kept her eyes on the ground, “I just have a special kind that's bigger.” The girl sighed and leaned on her shoulder.

“I just feel so…” The girl started, gesturing her hands uselessly, “... not safe.” Marie tensed slightly.

“You shouldn’t.” She said, making the girl look up at her, “You’ve got me! I will always protect you.” The girl smiled weakly.

“You promise?” She asked. Marie nodded seriously as she drew an ‘x’ on over her heart.

“Cross my heart.” She smiled. The girl sat up and threw her arms around Marie. Marie reciprocated the hug, making the girl laugh. The girls held their hug, indulging in the security of it.

“When we get out,” The girl said softly, “and we are no longer in danger, will you still protect me?" Marie held the little girl closer to her.

“Youri,” Marie said the girl’s name seriously, “There won’t be a moment where I will leave your side.”

>>

Chapter five:

Part one:

>>

I waited anxiously in my seat, tapping the mug of coffee in my hand. Youran and I had spent the past week talking and getting to know each other. In fact, there wasn't a day that had passed that we didn't talk. It surprised me how easy it was to talk with her. It was like we had clicked, becoming friends almost instantly. Almost as if we had already been friends before.

 I had even told Youran about my family. Though I addressed them as my biological family instead of my foster family. I didn’t want her asking questions about my life as a foster child. Not because I didn’t want to answer them but because I knew that, if she asked, I would tell her everything.

 It was strange to me. Never in my life had I been so open to anyone like that. It was almost suspicious. But every time I spoke to Youran, the suspicions left my mind. I would get this immense calm all over my body. It was something I had never experienced before. Something only she could give me.

But the suspicions and doubts were back. I met this woman while I'm being targeted and I just trusted her?! Just like that?! Plus, wasn't it weird that I feel so strange around her? Not to mention I had dreams about her right before meeting her! Could she have been someone from my past? Someone that wants me dead? One thing was for sure, waiting for her was a dumb idea. Especially if it meant potentially getting hurt. I still hadn't healed fully from Montu's attack last week. Waiting there like a sitting duck was a terrible way to get killed.

As I moved to stand from my seat, a chime came from the front door, making me look up. Youran pushed through the door, clearly in distress. Her hair was tied in a loose ponytail that fell just above a vibrant sundress that brought out her light brown eyes. She seemed to have put on some light makeup as well, my eyes being drawn to her flushed cheeks and glossy lips.

 Panting slightly, Youran scanned the café until her eyes landed on mine. She smiled brightly. And, just like that, my suspicions vanished once again as that calm hit me like a truck. She came running over to me. "Ike!" Youran threw her arms around me, nearly toppling me over, "I hope you weren’t waiting long! I am so sorry I'm late. I slept through my alarm."

“It’s no problem.” I patted her head gently, “It happens. Besides, I... just got here. So you’re fine.”

“Great!” Youran jumped back and clapped her hands together, “Give me one second to order a drink then we can start hanging out!” I smiled and nodded. Hanging out? What are we, teenagers… she sure made me feel that way. 

Youran smile brightened in return. She turned on her heel and hurried to the front counter. I watched her as she left. She looked cute with her hair up like-

I shook my head and dropped that stupid absent minded smile. What am I doing? Wasn’t I about to leave?! I cursed under my breath and held a hand up to my mouth. She did it to me again! How does she just change me like that? There has got to be a malice reason behind it…

After a moment’s hesitation, I stole another glance at Youran. She was looking at the menu intently, tapping her chin with her finger thoughtfully.

… Well... since I'm already here…

I took my seat again, sighing as I picked up my now cold, and nearly empty, cup of coffee. After waiting a minute longer, Youran came running back to the table. “Ok!” She said, taking a seat in front of me, “How are you?”

She seems so happy to see me...

“I’m good.” I smiled, “How are you?”

“I’m great!” She giggled, “Having coffee together was such a great idea! I feel like we only know each other through a phone screen.” I hummed in agreement as a barista walked over to us.

“Refill, mam?” She asked me politely. I looked at Youran.

“... Yeah.” I sighed, lifting my cup to her, “Fill ‘er up.” The barista complied. Once she had left, I sparked a conversation, "How’s the company, Youran?”

“Excellent thanks to your help.” Youran sighed, “Victor had little to nothing to correct from the report, all thanks to your edits. Of course, he guessed almost immediately that you had been the reason behind it.”

“Yeah, Victor’s smart like that.” I sighed, spinning my newly filled cup of coffee absentmindedly.

“What about you?” Youran leaned on the table and looked at me expectantly, “How’s Ike ‘n Bar Productions?”

“Not bad. We actually start filming a new tv show today. Bart’s already heading over now to scope it out.”

“Ooo! Nice! Who’s the cast?” Youran egged.

“Nope.” I deadpanned, “Not revealing anything until it airs.” I looked up from my cup and caught Youran glaring at me. She had her cheeks puffed out and her bottom lip over lapping the top one. I smirked. She was so cute when she was angry. “Alright, alright. You can come to the viewing party.”

“Really??” Youran beamed, making the pout I saw a distant memory.

“Yeah.” I sighed,  “Why not?” Youran cheered and clapped her hands, sending a warm feeling in my chest.

“Oh! But watch out! You may not be able to get through the production so easily!” Youran’s voice sounded like she was telling a ghost story. She added her fingers waving in the air for extra spooky flavor. I arched my eyebrow.

“What makes you say that?” I asked, amused by her childish behavior. Youran leaned forward slightly and spoke in a harsh whisper, “Did you hear about that hacker that has been attacking the web?” My brows furrowed slightly. A widespread internet paralysis broke out in Loveland that week. It affected all websites in the city. On every homepage there was a signature by a hacker named ‘Key.’ “Apparently, there was word of the hacker affecting cell phones as well.” Youran continued, “Hacking into your phone and stealing emails and personal information.” I rolled my eyes.

“Hogwash.” I sighed, “It’s just people speculating and stirring up a commotion. Don’t think about it too much.” Youran nodded and took a sip from her drink. Though she agreed with me, I could still see worry knitted in her eyebrows. I instinctively reached out and brushed them. Youran looked at me surprised. I felt my face flush as I quickly retracted my hand. 

“Sorry.” I stammered, covering my face with my hand, “You just… You have nothing to worry about. So you shouldn’t hold your face like that.”

“I don’t?” Youran asked, innocently.

“Of course not.” I said simply, avoiding eye contact and looking back into my cup, “Like I said, this is all speculation. This ‘Key’ is probably trying to make a name for himself. Pushing however hard he can to get people to notice him. You’ll be ok.”

“...And ...If I’m not?” Youran asked sheepishly.

“I’ll protect you.”

 I froze. Those words fell from my mouth without me realizing it. They came so easily to me. As if I had said it a million times to her before...

Youran placed a hand on top of mine. I looked up at her. She was smiling sweetly at me.

“Thank you.” She said, softly. Her eyes sparkled, showing me she meant her thanks. I looked down. Her hands are so cold… I twisted my hand to hold Youran’s. “... Did you get your nails done?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah!” Youran shone brightly as she leaned forward, “I had them draw little pandas on them! Aren’t they cute??”

“Adorable.” I ran my thumb over her nails gently, a soft smile settling on my face, “Adri has been wanting to get her nails done. You’ll have to tell me the name of the place you went to.”

“Oh! How is Adri doing?” Youran asked, pulling her hand away to clap her hands together, “Wasn’t today her first day at her new highschool?” I opened my mouth but was cut off by a buzzing that came from my blazer pocket. I pulled out my phone and looked at the collar ID. Ho boy. “ Speak of the devil.” I looked up to Youran, “Do you mind?” She shook her head and smiled politely. I thanked her and stood up.. after making sure I was out of earshot, I answered the call.

“Speaking.” I said resoundly.

“Hello?” The principal of Loveland Lake High, Mr. Olson answered seriously. He still sounded the same as he did when I attended that school, if not a little more warily, “Is this Ike?”

“What did Sam do now?” I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

Mr. Olson chuckled, “Ah, about that. It isn’t Sam I’m calling for this time. It’s Adrienne.” I froze.

“What happened?”

“Our new student was called to my office for cursing at her teacher and starting a riot in the classroom.” I groaned, “She has been suspended starting immediately. I tried calling Maria and Bart but neither of them picked up.”

“Maria is at a doctor’s appointment for Lola and Bart is at a shoot that I have to meet him at in less than an hour.” I checked my watch. “Are you sure Adri has to start today? Can’t she just sit in the corner and think about what she has done?”

“I’m afraid not.” Mr. Olson chuckled. I sighed and held my face in my hand.

“...fine. I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

“Thank you, Ike. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault. Adri on the other hand will be receiving a solid talking to that may make her into a saint…. I’ll see you soon. Goodbye.” I hung up the phone and growled to myself as I walked back into the cafe. “I’m afraid I’ll have to go.” I said as I approached Youran, “I have to go pick up my sister early from school.”

“Oh no.” Youran’s smile fell into a look of worry, “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah.” I grumbled, stretching my jaw to stop it from clenching, “My sister is just a jerk to the underpaid.” I sighed, “The school is fifteen minutes away. By the time I pick her up and take her home, I’ll have to go to a shoot. I’m really sorry.” Youran shook her head and smiled at me.

“It’s nothing you couldn’t help. I understand.” She said this with a sweet smile but there was no denying the disappointment behind her eyes. I clenched my hands into fists inside my pockets. It felt as if I had a string attached to my chest that prevented me from just leaving Youran there, making it nearly impossible to leave her side.

“... Do you have plans for dinner tonight?” Youran looked shocked by my sudden question.

“No!” She answered quickly.

“Good. Don’t make any. We can finish chatting then. And it’ll be on me. To make up for bailing today.”

“But I was late!” Youran quickly jumped to stop me, “I’ll pay!”

“I really didn’t care that you were late. I can-”

“But I do!” Youran puffed out her cheeks stubbornly. Though normally, the stubbornness of others angered me, she still somehow pulled a smile out of me.

 “Fine. You can give me a ride there to make up for your tardiness. How does that sound?” I asked, lightly arching my brows. Youran nodded, her smile returning. “Good. I’ll text you the location of the shoot and you can pick me up from there.”

“Right!” Youran said, determinately. 

“See you tonight then.” I said. I hesitated a moment, then gave her a quick pat on the head. Youran giggled, bringing a sharp blush to my cheeks. Not willing to let her see it, I quickly started walking to the door.

“See you!” She said, waving to me as I left. I waved back as I pushed through the door, making the chimes tinkle melodiously. I felt a warm smile spread across my cheeks as I walked to the car. Youran was so sweet and caring to me. It was a kind of warmth I hadn’t felt since... My smile fell slightly. 

… I have never felt that kind of sweetness before... 

Why did it seem so familiar?

(Next)

[hailbop1701]

ReaperXFemaleReader

Doom: To Hell And Back

Chapter 5: Oh Hell No...

Hey everyone! Chapter 5 is finally done. I really struggled with this one for some reason. And I hope there aren't toooo many typos. Thanks again to @thottiewithashotgun for the editing as always. Doom doesn't belong to me I'm just messing with the characters and storyline a little bit.

You walked over to where Sam and Duke were whispering quietly, at the sound of your footsteps Duke looked up and gave you a toothy smile. “There she is. You all good?” he asked and you grimaced. “I’ll live. I’m gonna need to burn all of my gear though.” you grumbled.

Sam laughed softly and looked at you with a critical eye, “You said you were going to be careful.” she accused. You sighed and blew a strand of hair from your face, “I guess it’s not my lucky day.” you offered with a shrug.

Sam snorted and shook her head, “I feel like that happens often.” she whispered, making Duke snort. You glared at her without any of the heat and pulled your vest back on slowly. Wincing slightly as your shoulder and ribs twinged, Sam pulled the vest around you and helped zip it up. 

“Thanks,” you muttered and turned when Sarge stalked over, “Where are your surface entry points?” he asked voice tight. Sam hesitated for a second, “There’s a pressure door at the end of the north corridor” she said voice steady. Sarge nodded, “Destroyer, Kid, Portman, get there on the double. Give me an update.” he ordered to the three, who all nodded. “Whatever this thing is it cannot get back through the Ark,” 

Sarge then spoke directly into his Comm. “Mac, I want you to arm Pinky with a weapon, with some ST grenades, and seal the Ark door.” Sam perked up beside you, “There’s another door.” she said wide eyed. Sarge looked at her again, “Where?” he asked and Sam shifted and glanced at John for the briefest moment. “The entrance to the archeological dig.” she said with a sigh. You moved over to the open body bag and knelt down; you examined the creature with careful eyes. ‘What are you?’ you mentally ask. Reaching down you grip your knife’s hilt and give a sharp tug to free it from the demons skull. You lifted the blade and looked at it carefully in the light, a mixture of light and dark blood cover it. “Just like the other’s” you murmur. Sarge squats down next to you, “What do you think?” he asked quietly. Pursing your lips you think about what you have seen so far, “I can only make an educated guess. But I think it might be in the blood.” you said with a shrug, “I’m not an expert.” you added as Sarge opened his mouth to push you for more. He gave you a look that said a lot, 'elaborate,' was one of them.

“I think an autopsy would reveal a few things.” you offered your C.O. who in turn huffed impatiently. You both stood up, “I heard there was a body in Genetics; permission to get a blood sample?” you asked,  hopeful. Sarge looked down at you, eyes narrowed. He looked at you for a long moment before nodding. “Granted, don’t take too long. In and out and back here on the double.” he said. “Yes sir,” you said and sheathed your knife.

You moved around the room gathering the supplies you needed and stopped to reload both your main weapon and your sidearm. “Sam, can you start on an autopsy while I’m gone?” you asked your new friend. Sam had a few different expressions flit across her face before she stuck with determination. She nodded and looked at the body bag as if it was going to come alive at any moment.  You moved with others through the nanowall with a small wave to the two left behind.

You breathed in through your nose and steadily out your mouth; up toward the front of the line Sarge was losing his patience with Portman; again. You moved into the hallway that lead to the labs and the door sealed with a hiss behind you. Reaper quietly walked next to you and looked like he wanted to say something. He seemed to stop himself everytime he tried. “Something on your mind John?” you asked with a raised eyebrow. John hummed and looked down at you, “You sure you want to go off alone?” he asked and you rolled your eyes. “I’ll be fine. Nothing I can’t handle.” you reassured your voice betraying your annoyance. 

John chuckled, “I know you can handle it. If the dead demon in the infirmary was any indication. I just...be careful, okay?” he said carefully. You smirk and nudged him with your working arm, “Daaaaw, does this mean we're friends now?” you asked teasingly. John grumbled refusing to look at you out of spite. “I’ll be fine. In and out, like Sarge ordered.” you said stopping at the hall where you split up. 

Reaper looked at you for a second longer before nodding and heading off with the others. Taking a deep breath you turned back to the dark dimly lit corridor you had to traverse down. “I have the survival instinct of a lemming.” you muttered to yourself as you moved forward. The only sound was your light footsteps on the grated floor and your heart pounding in your ears. Tense with your rifle partially raised you look at each door hoping to happen upon genetics some point soon. As alert as you were your mind still drifted, ‘John was being weird. I mean I just met the guy; well his sister was worried about me too. Maybe it’s a Grimm thing. They have bad blood with this place. Sam's sweet, I'd hang out with her outside of all this if I got the chance. I should talk to her about that. John...I dunno. I don't think he'd ever talk to me outside of work.’ you thought and stopped short. Turning your head you read the plaque by the door. 

Genetics 

“Finally.” you breathed and moved to enter the room. You tapped at the door controls, and the door swooshed open. You looked into the dark room with mild apprehension, “Okay, ominous darkness; Check. Dead animal’s everywhere; Check. Giant spiderweds; Che-” you cut yourself off and take another look around the room. You aimed your rifle up and down the walls so you can see with your flashlight. Very large white webbs coated the room, “Oh this, I don’t like this at all.” you muttered with a shudder. Moving further into the room, you quickly scan the floor for the dead body that was reported. You saw a turned over table, blood, and debris but no body. 

“Fantastic.” you muttered and scanned the surrounding area again. You passed by a large terrarium that looked like it had seen better days, it was cracked and shattered on one side. You read the papers sitting next to it. “Test one complete on Birdeater arachnid. Oh hell no.” you whispered and whipped around training your gun on what you thought was watching you. All that was there was a white webbed blob of a figure stuck to the wall. “Found the body.” 

The hair on the back of your neck stood straight, something was definitely watching you. You slowly made your way over to the sack and pulled out your knife. Pulling your flashlight from your rifle you stuck it between your teeth so you could work. The bitter taste of the metal coated your tongue making you wrinkle your nose in distaste. You carefully cut the webbing away revealing an arm. Sheathing your knife, you calmly pulled a syringe from your hip bag.

As you uncapped the syringe a chittering came from behind you and it sounded big; swallowing thickly you stuck the needle into what you hoped was a vein and pulled the plunger back. You breathed a sigh of relief through your nose when you saw the curdled blood slowly fill the syringe. The chittering and hissing became louder behind you, squeaking you pulled the needle from the arm and capped it. The sound of shouting came over the Comms again. Something bad obviously happened but you couldn’t be concerned about it at that moment. You turned around slowly as you worked to reattach your light. 

And there it was; much, much bigger than it should be. The size of your aunt's old VW Bug, too big. Half up on the ceiling and half on the wall across from you one of it’s eight brown legs tapped in a slow beat, “Crow, report!” your Comm. screamed. Without taking your eyes off the spider you cautiously moved backwards toward the door doing your best to avoid the turned up tables and equipment. Glass crunched under your boots making you wince, the spider blinked and it's two front hooked legs tapped the wall in quick succession, “Crow, report damn it!” Sarge screamed at you through your Comm. 

Looking through your peripheral you saw that the door was closer now. You bumped into a cage of a mutilated cat making it tooth achingly squeal across the floor. The spider hissed and moved down the wall and onto the floor, a couple of it’s legs lifted onto a few stacked cages to accommodate for the lack of room. 

Taking a deep breath you quickly twisted and made a sprint for the door. A loud angry hissing erupted behind you and you broke through the threshold. In an afterthought you hit the button to close the lab door. A bang echoed behind you as you stumbled in the direction you came in. “Sorry Sarge, I uh found I dunno what that was. I locked it in genetics.”  you said almost breathlessly. “Get back to the infirmary on the double!” Sarge barked. “Ye-”you were cut off by the sound of a loud bang and crash. “Ah crap.” you muttered and watched as the giant spider squeezed through the doorway of the lab. You fired off a few shots before turning to sprint down the hall. “Report Crow!” Sarge ordered,

“It broke down the fucking door!” you yelped, skidding to a halt and firing off a few more shots. The spider screeched in pain and reared up on it’s back legs, “What is it?” Duke asked over the channel. You fired two more shots before turning and running again, “Spider, very big spider”

The line was silent for a second, “You’re joking!” Portman laughed as you banked a corner. A loud crash behind you caused Portman’s laughter to stop abruptly. "Shit, shit, shit," you chanted turning the corner leading to the airlock door. You saw that it was torn open and dove through it, the demon spider hissed behind you. You turned to see that it slowed down before following you through. 'It learned?' You thought dumbstruck, 'I need a plan, come on think of something (Y/N)!' And that's when you remembered Hunter's gift. Small explosive disks, perfect for taking down walls and giant spiders. 

Running through the atrium you pulled two disks from your belt and slid to your knees; you clicked in the centers and twisted around, with a flick of the wrist you tossed them. They slid for a second before coming to a stop under the arachnid. It screamed and reared up again, pulling your sidearm out you emptied the clip into its center mass. It stood there a moment before falling to the ground and curling in on itself. Panting you fell back onto your butt, “I think I got it.” you said breathlessly. You looked up  and was taken aback; everyone was there, weapons ready. Duke and the Kid started cheering and whooping in delight, Destroyer clapped and grinned. Sarge’s lip twitch and he nodded in approval. Sam’s eyes were wide as she took in the creature. Portman simply looked at it in disgust. Reaper walked over and pulled you to your feet, “Spider, huh?” he asked and you scowled. “I hate spiders.” 

You watched as Sam walked around the demon spider, fascination written all over her face. “This was in genetics?” she asked you, eyes wide. “Yup, in all of it’s creepy glory.” you said wrinkling your nose. “It’s male. It has to be Herman.” she said crossing her arms. “Herman?” John asked dryly. Sam nodded, ‘Did you see Karen too?” she asked and your mouth dropped, “Karen? You mean there’s two of them?” you all but shouted. Sam winced, “yeah one male and one female.” she said looking back down at the creature. 

 You looked up at Sarge innocently, “So what did I miss?” 

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