#i also may have scared him when i switched the wheels out/took the wheel out a couple times to fix it so now im associated with scary things

[piknim]

Hamster decided we're not friends and that i am actually very scary™ so ive been giving him a high value treat near his wheel every time i hear him wake up, but he doesnt like treats... he'll take it(or show interest) and eat like 2 bites then throw it back down. Ik he pouches things bc of his nest but ive never seen him with a full pouch

[missluckycharms]

can you do a imagine where y/n plays volleyball and she gets hurt and h take care of her?

A/N: hiii! I hope you like this! I also had to look up some details about volleyball as it’s not really that commonly played here in Ireland, if I say something wrong pls ignore it I tried my best. The vaccine is kicking my ass rn, I got my second dose so if this sucks and there’s mistakes pls ignore that also 😭 Enjoy !!

This is college!Harry and Y/N I hope you don’t mind !!

Warnings: talks of smut, strong language and Harry being a sarcastic loveable asshole.

Today was not Y/N day.

First of all, she woke up late, giving her only twenty minutes to get ready and make her way to college, which is usually a thirty minute drive without traffic. She was like a lightening bolt running through her apartment, falling over Harry’s shoes that were just abandoned around her room and trying to find any clean clothes as Harry came over last night and as usual, he distracted her from doing what she needed to do, which was her laundry.

He was asleep while she did all this, her small huffs and puffs picking up his shoes and throwing them into the corner didn’t even cause the lazy log in the bed to move once, his body tucked up under the covers as his face smushed against her purple sheets as he let out small snores, she looked at him and silently wished that was her. She was lucky she packed her gym bag last night before he arrived over, all of her clothes, her ankle braces, her knee pads and her favourite trainers she wears for games all packed into her bag and all she needed to do was pick it up and throw it into the trunk of her car along with her book bag.

She kissed Harry’s forehead and again, he did not even move, he may of given out a slight hum for a grumbled word but Y/N didn’t have time to contemplate what he said, she was rushing out the door wearing clothes that were probably Harry’s as the joggers were nearly falling off her as she ran. She didn’t care though, she needed to be in her first lecture or her grades would go down. She made it to campus with only thirty seconds to spare, she doesn’t know how she wasn’t pulled over for driving faster than the speed limit when she saw the campus come into view. Her body ran through the halls, dodging anyone in her way as she dragged herself to the lecture hall where her professor was probably already starting lesson, his usual morning introduction as everyone set up their laptops or notepads for the hour lecture ahead.

She got a disapproving look from her professor when she slide into a row, flopping down onto the seat and apologising as she rummaged through her bag looking for her laptop. Her professor was already going over what they would be covering today when she realised she doesn’t have her laptop. Then she remembered where it is, it’s in her apartment in the bathroom.

Harry insisted they had a bath last night to relax her after she took some exams in college that day, the pair were soaked under the bubble filled hot water with her laptop propped up on the sink playing a show on Netflix as they relaxed and spoke about their day. She grabbed her notebook and pen and immediately began to scribble down the notes she would have to transfer onto her laptop tonight, if Harry doesn’t distract her again. She knows he might not, he has classes of his own today, his starting later than hers and his classes only being on four days a week instead of five like Y/N, yesterday was his day off, hence why he was being a needy little shit and clinging to Y/N like his lifeline until they fell asleep.

The day dragged out for Y/N, her usual one hour classes feeling like four hours, her notes taking for ages to write up as she tried to keep up with what was being displayed on the board, her lunchtime consisting of her bumming off her friend for a few dollars to get something to eat as she left her purse at home, her friend didn’t mind but she felt awful for asking. When the day finally ended she was relieved, all she wanted to do was get into the gymnasium and play some volleyball with her team to get all the anger she felt today, she was not having a good day and the only things that can help her with that is Harry or volleyball, and because she had training today over their at home game being played next week, she was relieved she could get some stress reliving in before going back to her place where she knows Harry will be — he hates his own apartment as he shares, Y/N only having a one bedroom one that she snagged and Harry being left with a flat thats shared between four people, there’s no privacy there, none.

“You’ve been tense all day, is everything okay?” Abbie, Y/N best friend asks as they begin their warm ups, the two sat on the floor side by side as the stretch their legs and arms getting warmed up for practice.

“Today wasn’t my day, woke up late, forgot my laptop and purse and now I have to go home and type up nearly fifty pages of notes onto my laptop — Who’s idea was it for me to study Biochemistry?” She laughs out, stretching her arms behind her head as Abbie follows suit, the pair watching as the coach shows them what to do, the pair sat at the back to avoid being yelled at for talking.

“I think that was your idea, I certainly didn’t force you to do that. If it helps, environmental studies isn’t easier, I swear I’m constantly writing up lab reports and giving presentations each week” Abbie rolls her eyes, the pair now doing lunges as they continue to chat.

“Shit! I have a presentation next week, I totally forgot” Y/N groans, squeezing her eyes in frustration as she hasn’t even started yet, her mind immediately going to how she has to type up the whole presentation while probably having Harry hang out of her. Harry is studying sports science, in hopes to one day set up his own personal training business. They usually have study sessions together as Harry has just as much work as Y/N, but Harry isn’t as much as a perfectionist as Y/N, he’ll slap together a presentation and call it a night while she has to make it look pretty and aesthetically pleasing.

After a fifteen minute warm up, the girls are already playing a mini match for practice, six players per team, Y/N being up nearest to the net with three other girls. She’s been named as one of the teams best scorers, her jumps are high and her force hitting the ball is something that scares opposing teams when they play competitions. She’s been on the college team for nearly two years now, her whole college course is five years long — she’s aiming for a bachelors degree in Biochemistry, she’s so happy she has something else to do while in here, she knows she would of went crazy if she didn’t have something to calm her down.

They play three games, Y/N’s team wining the first game and the teams tying on the last game due to the positions being switched and she was put to the back to give other players the chance to spike the ball up. She’s back up front on the third game, her body now rested from the small water break they were given in between the games, her body full of adrenaline and ready to play. The game is playing out as usual, Y/N jumping and spiking the ball up and over the net with the help of her team mates, the other team just as good as them as they all battle it out on the court. In the last two minutes is when it all goes downhill, Y/N jumps up to spike the ball, when she lands, she wobbles and falls over, her ankle rolling as she cries out in pain on the court, the coach blowing the whistle to stop the game as everyone rushes around her.

She tries to stand up, she falls back down again, Abbie and another girl holding her up as she shuts her eyes in pain. The coach takes off her ankle brace and sock with her permission, she’s now sitting on the bench as her ankle is iced and checked over by the coach, Abbie helping Y/N by refilling her water bottle when needed, her ankle now propped up on a chair with ice on it as the rest of the team begins their warm downs.

“It’s definitely sprained” Abbie says looking under the ice at her ankle, Y/N wincing when Abbie presses down lightly, jumping when she lets out a small cry.

“Yep, definitely sprained” she says putting the ice back on and sitting down next to her friend as they both laugh a little, the pain easing off with the ice as Abbie distracts her with stories and jokes.

“Y/N, do you have anyone to take you home?” The coach asks, allowing the rest to leave as Abbie stays seated with Y/N.

“I’ll call my boyfriend, thank you for your help” she says as the coach pats her on the back, telling her she can take all the time she needs off while also still being allowed to attend the games to support. She’s devastated about it, but at least she can support her team from the sidelines.

“What happened?” Harry asks running out of his car, the door slamming as Abbie wheels Y/N out in wheelchair given to them by the coach from the injury room.

“Fucked my ankle, doesn’t surprise me honestly, today wasn’t a good day” she sighs s Harry laughs a little, helping her out of the wheelchair and guiding her towards his car that’s parked only three steps away.

“You’re okay now, let’s get you home and rested, yeah?” He says laying her down on the back seat, picking her leg up and resting it on the seat as she winches in pain a little as she adjusts herself on the seat.

“Thanks for all your help, I’ll have Niall come and pick her car up later” Harry says to Abbie, closing the back door and smiling at the girl who’s waving in at her best friend who’s mortified in the back of the car, laughing masking the pain she’s feeling.

“If you both need anything give me a call” she says as Harry nods waving her off as he sits into the car, turning around to look at his girlfriend who’s looking back at him holding in her laugh.

“Only you” he shakes his head laughing as Y/N lets out a loud cackle, knowing he’s right, only her would end up fucking up her ankle even with a brace on it, it’s defiantly a Y/N thing to do.

The car ride home is filled with laughing and a few sing songs as Harry tries to distract her from the pain. He helps her into her apartment by carrying her bridal style up the flight of stairs and placing her down onto the sofa, propping her leg up on the coffee table, raising her ankle up on a pillow as he races to the freezer to find something to put on the injury.

“Okay, all you’ve got is frozen peas” he says placing the green packet down onto her ankle, the picture of peas hilarious as it rests on her skin, the swelling gone down since the gymnasium which is good, as Harry says.

“I’ll run to the store to get you some bandages soon, right now, you need some tea, the sugar will help with the shock you got” he says immediately snapping into Mum mode with her, Y/N smiling at Harry in the kitchen behind her, her head turning and resting on the back of the sofa as she watches him saunter around her kitchen.

“Do you have any homework you need completing? I got all mine done in library period we had today, I’m free to do yours if you have any” he says fiddling with the kettle and switching it on, placing a tea bag into her favourite purple polka dot mug.

“I have to transfer handwritten notes onto my laptop, I can do that” she says as Harry turns around, waiting for the kettle to boil as he looks at her.

“Nope, I’m doing that for you, you need rest! I’m here to help you, I’ll be your nurse” he says turning back around to pour the boiling water into the mug.

“I’m fine Harry, it’s just a small sprain” she fights back, Harry shaking his head as he walks in with her mug filled with warm tea, passing it to her as he sits next to her wrapping his arm around the back of the sofa.

“I’m not leaving you here alone, if you fall what will you do? Get up and walk?” He says sarcastically as she rolls her eyes laughing, resting her head back on his arm as they begin watching the TV before them.

“Also, I expect the same in return if I ever get hurt” he jokes as she slaps his arm playfully, laughing loudly as Harry wiggles his eyebrows at her.

“You’re on top for the next few weeks Styles” she says sipping on her tea as Harry laughs, reaching over to kiss her check.

“I’m always on top, darling” he whispers to her as she pulls back looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Babe, please can you be on top? I had a leg cramp this morning and it might come back” she says lowly, imitating Harry and his deep British accent as he looks at her rolling his eyes.

“I don’t sound like that” he says taking her mug from her and sipping a little from her tea as she takes it back off him with a loud groan at what he just did — he always does it to annoy her, or he’ll dip some biscuits into her tea when she’s not looking.

“Oh yeah, must be what my other boyfriend sounds like” she says riling him up, his head turning to her as she looks at the TV screen laughing behind the rim of her mug.

“You’re lucky you’re injured m’love, if you weren’t you would be over my shoulder and thrown down onto your bed and I’d show you who’s your boyfriend, or daddy as you like” he says wiggling his eyebrows as she groans into her tea.

“It was one time! I said it by accident!” She shouts, turning bright red as Harry laughs loudly, kissing her cheek as she pouts looking down at her mug.

“You know I liked it, it’s okay baby” he says resting her head on his shoulder as she cuddles into him, her empty mug on her lap as she pulls the blanket down from the back of the sofa, placing her empty mug on the floor and throwing the blanket over them both.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you” she says feeling sleepy, her day catching up on her as Harry helps her nurse her injury, his hands fixing the frozen peas on her ankle if they move a little.

“You’d probably break your neck or something” Harry says as she groans looking up at him, his dimples popping out as he laughs at his own joke.

“I’m being nice!” She says as he bends down to peck her lips, their smiles against one another lips as they pull away looking at one another.

“I know m’baby, I don’t know what you’d do without me either!” He says sighing in contentment as she rolls her eyes squishing her face into his chest.

“Harry!”

[ptergwen]

only you and me

w/c: 6.7k

warnings: angst, mentions of weed, and some swearing

summary: whenever peter tries to tell you how he feels, harry gets in the way

a/n: ahhhh hi my loves! my mini writing break is over :,) life has been just a mess for me and i’ve been way more critical than usual about my work but i’m doing a little better and ready to get back into everything! this helped me a lot so i’m excited to share it with y’all <3 it’s also my first time writing harry osborn so lmk how i did lmaooofwfjj but yeah pls enjoy

-

“dude, she’s right there! just tell her!” ned whisper yells to peter, elbowing him for emphasis. they’re hidden behind a wall to watch you at your locker. you’re grabbing books while betty rants to you and mj rolls her eyes. “not now. she looks... busy,” peter gulps, gaze trailing down your body. he always finds excuses to put off telling you how he feels.

or rather, excuses find him. something comes up every time he gets the courage to do it. he has no idea why he’s so scared because he’s pretty sure you like him back. pretty sure. there are a few reasons why you might not. also, plenty why you might. you stay up late texting most nights, and you’ve even flirted a couple of times. it never fails to make peter blush. he trips over his words whenever he tries to flirt back.

he’s had feelings for you since the first time you two hung out alone. none of your other friends could make it, but you happily took him up on his offer to come over. you grinned through his whole apartment tour, asked about may and what she does. when peter showed you his room, you even complimented his movie posters, much to his surprise.

“really? you don’t think they’re, like, dorky?”

“no, peter. your interests aren’t dorky. everyone likes what they like.”

and, he liked you. he knew it from that point on. you’d know it too if the universe wouldn’t keep stopping him from saying that.

“she’s so...” peter pauses for a second. him and ned watch you pull betty in by her shoulders as if you’re going to kiss her. she dodges you, mj pushing her back, all three of you giggling about it before you grab betty’s hands and give her words of encouragement. “cool,” peter finishes, turning back to ned. “i mean, how she puts herself out there like that.”

“what’s stopping you from doing the same thing?” ned points out with a knowing smile that peter returns. you make it look so easy. whenever you’re comfortable around people, you can let go of any doubts you have. you stop worrying about what they might think and instead do what you want. it’s inspiring to peter, and heart warming getting to be one of the people you’re fully you with.

he wishes he could apply your wisdom himself.

peter shakes his head, staring down at the floor. “oh, you know. anxiety, fear of rejection. that fun stuff.” “so, yourself,” ned concludes, clapping peter’s backpack so hard it makes him stumble forward. betty and mj wave goodbye to you before heading to their first class. you’re still getting your things together at your locker. this is peter’s moment.

“come on, dude! y/n’s not busy anymore. you got this.” ned keeps his hand on peter’s back, adding on, “it’s been a year already.” “half a year,” peter corrects him in a mumble. he’s liked you for a really long time. “ok, i’m going. wish me luck.” he takes a deep breath and focuses in on you. “aw, dude. you don’t need it.” ned gives him one last pat on the back. “good luck, though.” “thanks, man. see you in trig.”

right as peter starts heading over, harry comes up behind you and covers your eyes. you squeal, jumping up and turning to him, laughing as you playfully hit at his chest. he brings you into a hug where your face is buried in his sweater and probably inhaling his super strong, super expensive cologne.

that’s what’s stopping peter, harry freaking osborn. his own friend.

peter quickly loses the tiny bit of confidence ned gave him. he figures it might be better to hold off on his confession and get an early start to class. unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen. harry has already spotted him and calls him over.

“hey, pete! come give us some love, eh?” harry beams, an arm slung around your shoulders and you smiling up at him. you direct your smile to peter when he slumps his way to your locker. his lips pull into a barely noticeable frown. you notice. “there’s my guy. why so down, sunshine?” harry offers his fist for a fist bump. peter gives it to him, eyes staying on you.

harry osborn. where to begin with such a specimen? he’s the perfect combination of everything you’d want in a guy. he gets good grades, he’s a star player on on the basketball team, nice to everyone and makes you laugh, popular yet fits right into your small group.

he was friends with you before the popular thing. what kicked it off was him making varsity basketball while only being a sophomore. yep, he’s unreal. since then, he’s been balancing his cool life and also hanging with “the nerds,” as he likes to call you. he got his own feelings for you along the way. peter can tell.

he’ll give you rides home, compliment how you look, basically act like your boyfriend without really being it. it absolutely infuriates peter because he doesn’t compare to harry in the slightest. if he were you and had the choice between himself or harry, he would pick harry.

it’s been a factor in why he hasn’t come clean about how he feels yet. he’s not trying to create a love triangle that he doesn’t stand a chance surviving in.

“for real, peter. you good?” you ask him, eyebrows knitted together in concern. “fine,” peter lies and musters up a smile. “i’m just tired. didn’t sleep too good last night.” you’re only more concerned now. this has been happening to him a lot lately. you search for his eyes. “again?”

“aw, man. you need something for it?” harry punches peter’s shoulder and lowers his voice. “i know this kid who-“ “harry, stop.” your words are serious, tone lighthearted. you throw your head back on his arm. “do you really know a kid?” “i’m not telling you,” he says in an overly happy voice, you humming the same way. peter feels like he’s third wheeling.

“i was telling pete.” harry looks at him expectantly, peter’s mouth dropping open while he thinks of what to say. harry likes to mess around. this is a different level, though. “no thanks. i- i shouldn’t. i’m-“ “relax, i don’t know a kid,” harry chuckles and points at peter. “your face right now.” it’s completely flushed. you knock into harry’s side.

“ok, well literally no one laughed. you’re scaring him,” you tell harry sternly. peter tugs tight on one of his backpack straps. he doesn’t feel like he’s third wheeling you two now. he feels like your kid. he’ll never let ned mettle in his love life ever again if this is where it gets him. “he knows i’m kidding, y/n/n. right?” harry checks with peter. you make a face at him that says you aren’t convinced.

he switches his arm from you to peter, drawing him into his side. “look, pete. i’m sorry. the only kid i know who’s selling is chocolates for his band trip.” you’re satisfied with that, grinning at both of them. peter forces a laugh and nods. “no worries, man. i gotta get to class.” “good boy,” harry lets him go. “bye, pete. we’ll see you at lunch,” you remind him. he gives you a tight lipped smile. “see you, y/n/n.”

you and harry continue practically spooning each other as soon as peter is out of sight.

what the hell is going on?

peter is back to being grumpy, plopping down in his seat next to ned. their teacher has the lesson plan pulled up on the smart board. ned looks from it to peter, almost jumping in his seat. “oh, you’re back already? how’d it go?” “it didn’t go,” peter huffs, copying down the aim. he’s only doing it so he doesn’t have to look ned in the eyes while telling him he bailed. again.

“you didn’t do it?” ned repeats, peter writing something about pi and a unit circle in his notebook. he bites the inside of his cheek. “you have to do it at some point,” ned sighs out and picks up his pencil. even he’s getting tired of this, and ned never gets tired of a good friends to lovers moment. “i think she likes harry,” peter says under his breath. “huh?” ned gasps.

peter doesn’t feel like explaining the extremely awkward moment he just finished living. although, it wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion. “y/n. he came over, and they kept hugging and whatever.” “they always do that,” ned almost scoffs, their trigonometry teacher moving to stand in front of the class. “yeah, but he had his arm around her the whole time we-“

the bell rings and cuts their conversation short. peter struggles to label the unit circle they learn about when his mind is filled to its capacity with images of you and harry all over each other. it’s not daydreaming. this is a nightmare. maybe, he actually will be having sleep problems.

peter’s morning is relatively decent after that. he gets to do an experiment with mj in chemistry, and she lets him take the lead for once. spanish is easy, health is okay, then he has a free period, then it’s lunch. things can only go downhill from here.

he thinks about hiding in the library until it’s over, but it’s the thought of harry eating your face that gets him to drag himself to the cafeteria.

flash is at the head of your table talking to harry when peter gets there. great, now he can’t eat his soggy chicken fingers in peace. “sounds dope. let’s go on the-“ flash stops saying what he was saying and nods at peter. “penis parker, you’re late.” peter takes his seat on your left, harry on your right. you glance over at him to make sure he’s okay. he acts like he doesn’t care, peeling open his milk carton.

“just text me later, man. get outta here,” harry dismisses flash, the two of them doing a bro handshake before he leaves. he’s well aware of his and peter’s history. he keeps them separate for the obvious reasons. peter appreciates it because saying no to flash is nearly impossible. he shouldn’t be so mad at harry, should he? he’s a good friend.

harry’s arm snakes around your waist and brings you closer to him. never mind.

“who’s up for sushi later?” he asks the table, everyone agreeing and saying how awesome that sounds. everyone except peter. you tap his shoulder with a small smile. “what about you, peter? you coming?” he realizes you’re all waiting for him to respond and puts down his milk. “uh, i can’t. homework,” he lamely answers.

“dude, we have homework, too. just do it a little later,” ned suggests, betty laying her head on his shoulder. you share a look with her, your eyes wide and a grin on your lips. that must have been what you were talking about this morning. she asked for boy advice. ned advice. why can’t this crap work out for peter?

“i really can’t. sorry, guys,” peter half heartedly apologizes.

he misses the disappointment that crosses your features because he’s pouting at his lunch again.

“homework, huh?” mj tests him, squinting as she takes a sip of apple juice. harry nudges peter’s side with two fingers. “you still mad about the sleeping thing?” “sleeping thing? what sleeping thing?” betty wonders while ned rests his head against hers. a quiet laugh slips out of you as you lean in to tell her.

“peter said he couldn’t sleep last night, so harry offered him...” you mime rolling a joint. “i said no,” peter clarifies, rolling his eyes at the inevitable teasing he’s about to get. none of you have even smoked besides harry. you’re being annoying about it. “of course you did,” mj sighs and kicks her feet up on the table. “unrelated to what y/n just said... harry, i have insomnia.”

everyone bursts into laughter at that, betty shoving her side and you pulling harry by his torso as he pretends to go into his backpack. peter wants nothing to do with any of this. he usually enjoys joking around with the group, even if it’s at his expense because it’s from a place of love.

today feels like you’re straight up making fun of him. harry might as well invite flash to join in.

“alright, alright, alright. enough of the weed talk,” harry decides, you removing your arms from him and grabbing your coffee. “you’re such a bad influence.” your voice drips with sarcasm. you bend the straw and take a sip while scooting closer to peter. “you really can’t come later? i feel like i’ve barely seen you today.” that’s on harry. “i wish i could, y/n/n,” peter exhales. “i’ll text you later, okay?”

you don’t get to answer because mj tugs on your arm, distracting you from peter. she explains how she has to do an art project on what it means to be a woman and needs help brainstorming ideas. you’re full of them, offering up an interesting perspective for her to use. peter smiles to himself as he listens in. you find a new way to impress him every day.

he should tell you that.

“hey, y/n?” “listen to her! you’re seriously my idol,” betty gushes, so loudly you don’t hear peter. not a single thing has gone in his favor at this table. he gives up.

peter locks himself in his room when he gets home from his overall terrible day. he does homework like he said he would, only taking a break for dinner, giving one word replies to may’s questions about school. he’d much rather be having sushi with you. he would’ve gone if the others didn’t.

after dinner, it’s back to grumbling and scribbling down answers. there’s a knock at peter’s door around ten o’clock, which he assumes is may saying goodnight. “i’ll be done in a few minutes, may! love you.” “it’s y/n,” you reply, the smile clear in your voice. his eyes go comically wide. that’s the last thing he expected to hear. “oh. uh, come in.”

you’re holding a small takeout bag, shutting the door behind you and walking over to his desk. you meet his twinkling eyes in the dim light that hits off his walls. from his open window, you faintly hear cars as they rush by and honk their horns in the distance, accompanied by a fresh breeze. it’s cozy, safe. it’s peter.

“hey. what’re you doing here?” peter questions, leaving his pencil in his binder and shutting it. you shake around the plastic bag. “i saved you a roll.” he bites back a smile, getting up from his chair. “may let me in. she was really chill about it,” you continue and hold out the sushi for him. “it’s a california roll. i wasn’t sure what you wanted, and everyone likes those.”

peter lets his smile spread out and takes the bag from you. “thanks, y/n/n. i was honestly hoping one of you would have leftovers.” you laugh softly, peter setting the bag down on his desk. he scratches the back of his neck. “did you guys have fun?” “yeah. i missed you, though.” you clasp your hands behind your back. “everyone did.”

“i feel bad i didn’t go. just... things felt off today,” peter admits the real reason he stayed home, you letting out a breath. “it was harry, wasn’t it? god, he was being so weird.” your arms drop back to your sides. “there’s a difference between playing around and actually upsetting people.” by people, you mean peter. no one else seemed too bothered by him. “i’m sorry, peter. i tried to make him stop.”

“no, you don’t have to apologize,” peter assures you sweetly, grabbing one of your hands. “it’s not your fault, okay? he probably didn’t realize what he was doing. the jokes landed.” he’s referring to ned, mj, and betty finding harry’s comments hilarious. you lace your fingers with peter’s and frown. “this isn’t like him. maybe he’s stressed about a game.” your gaze drifts off to the side, what you see getting you to perk up.

“is that new?” you ask peter, leading him by his hand over to a poster he put up recently. it’s for 13 going on 30. you showed it to him a couple of weeks ago, and he clearly liked it a lot. any movie that makes it to peter’s wall is a special one. “mhm. i got it literally right after you went home the night we watched,” he chuckles and looks over at you while you study the poster.

you turn to face peter again, keeping your hand tight in his. “were you gonna tell me something earlier? at lunch?” he’s confused for a second, then he remembers your ideas for mj’s art project. the fact that you cared enough to bring it up after all these hours makes his stomach do summersaults in the best way. he shrugs and gives you a smile.

“the stuff you were saying about femininity and how there are so many ways to define it,” peter starts, you grinning back at him, at how he took an interest in what you were saying. “you’re so smart, y/n. you make me wanna be better.” a light pink dusts his cheeks. “peter, you’re a feminist?” you coo, joking but genuinely wondering at the same time. he squeezes your hand. “duh.”

“i thought so,” you nod, taking in the rest of what he said. “you think i’m smart? i trust you because you’re way smarter.” peter pffts in response. “i’m only good at, like, physics. you’re good at things that really matter. smart in that way.” you’re feeling your own face get hot. you swing yours and peter’s hands back and forth. “why are you the nicest person ever?”

the answer to that, may, peeks her head into the room. “hey, kids. it’s getting late.” she notices your intertwined hands and shoots peter a smirk. “i thought you were a cool aunt,” he teases, you sadly letting go of him. “she is. thanks for having me over so late,” you tell may on your way to the door. “oh, stop it. you can come over any time.” she puts a hand on your arm. “thank you so much,” you murmur back.

you walk backwards to the doorway, may leaving you two to say your goodbyes. “wanna hang out only you and me? on friday maybe?” that should make up for everything earlier. “yeah, of course. friday is perfect,” peter agrees and bounces on his feet as excitement takes over him. “thanks again for the sushi.”

“no problem. goodnight.” it’s taking every last bit of power in you to not freak out. “night. text me when you get home.” he presses his tongue into his cheek. you slowly pull the door shut. “ok, i will. bye!” it closes, leaving peter skipping across his room to his bed on one side and you doing a little happy dance on the other.

the next day at school, everything is back to normal. honestly, better than normal. your hangout with peter is tomorrow, and he’s planning on telling he likes you then. he already talked it over with ned. he’s relieved it’s finally happening, especially since him and betty have their own thing. she’ll be taking up most of his free time from here.

your group is spending lunch outside today, lounging across a picnic table, surrounded by trees and the shining sun in a bright blue sky. mj sits on the table and has her feet on the bench, which would usually bug peter to no end. he doesn’t mind this time because it takes up enough room that harry has to sit with ned and betty instead of you. you lean into peter’s side and stab a piece of lettuce from your salad.

“it’s so nice out,” betty sighs, ripping off half her cookie and giving it to ned. “we should ditch.” “oh my god, you sound like harry,” you groan between bites of salad. peter lets out a breathy laugh, you looping your arm through his. he grins down at where you’re linked. harry crosses his own arms over his chest. “she wishes.” betty only nods because her mouth is full of m&m’s.

“nah, seriously. i’d take us out somewhere, but i have practice after school.” he speaks quieter than he normally does, less confident. your theory about him having basketball drama was right. “what did we tell you? talk about the sports shit with your sports friends,” mj complains, sitting back on her hands. she glances at harry over her shoulder and catches ned mouthing you can’t say that.

sitting criss cross, she spins around to face harry, unenthusiastically saying, “what i meant was, you sound upset. what’s wrong?” harry gets into it right away, like he’s been waiting for someone to ask. “coach says there might be a scout at the next game. it’s a really good opportunity even though i don’t have to worry about... college yet.” the word makes him cringe.

“oh, damn. that’s a big deal. scary,” mj snorts, turning back to you and peter. her behavior makes ned internally face palm. “that’s awesome, dude. you’re gonna play amazing like always.” he gives harry a high five, who smiles nervously in response. he’s never nervous. “thanks, bro. you guys wanna come and watch?” he’s never invited you to one of his games before either.

this isn’t a group of friends that likes to spend their weekends in bleachers while angry teens shout around them.

“definitely. we’ll be there to support you, harry,” betty answers for everyone, ned pecking her cheek in satisfaction. mj cusses to herself before replying. “if i absolutely must, sure.” only you and peter haven’t said anything yet. he’s been chewing his lower lip, and you your salad. harry looks between you two hopefully. it’s more so at you, which peter doesn’t like.

“y/n? pete? it would help a lot, i’m serious.” he taps his fingers on the table until one of you speaks up. you’re the one who does. “i’ll go. this is pretty huge, right? congrats.” you reach across the table and squeeze his shoulder while simultaneously tightening your arm around peter’s. he takes that as a cue. “i’ll go, too. happy for you, man.”

though peter isn’t currently in the best place with harry, he should show his support by showing up. it can’t be too bad since the rest of you will be there.

a loud, long chuckle leaves harry as he hops up from his bench and comes to yours and peter’s. he bends over and wraps both of you in a hug from behind at the same time. his arms are around each of your shoulders, holding you so close his cheeks are squished against either of your heads. you giggle at that, peter finding himself laughing along and reaching back to ruffle harry’s hair.

staying mad at him is one of the world’s greatest challenges.

“you’re saints, both of you. my angels.” he kisses the back of your head, then lays one right on peter’s cheek, leaving him blushing red and grinning. “what about the rest of us? i never go to shit like this,” mj huffs and seems genuinely offended. harry wiggles his eyebrows. “you want a kiss?” his offer gets her flustered, which she can’t manage to hide. that’s a first.

“shut up. i’m just saying... never mind.” mj glares at you and peter, ned and betty making kissing noises behind her. “someone change the subject.” peter steps in. “when’s the game, harry?” he asks, harry snapping and waving his finger. “tomorrow! cancel your plans, kiddos.” “like we had any,” betty retorts.

some of you did. that was going to be peter’s hangout with you.

ned smiles sympathetically at peter before betty is getting his attention. you‘re unfazed and rambling to harry how proud you are of him.

did last night mean nothing? was it an empty gesture? were you only doing it out of guilt? peter must have read your visit wrong. he’s been wrong the whole time he’s liked you. you don’t like him back, you pity him. harry is who you’re really interested in.

may always says he should trust his instincts.

peter pulls his arm from yours suddenly, swinging his backpack onto his shoulders. you’re taken back because it’s so out of no where. you stop talking to harry so you can figure out his deal. “where are you going?” “bell’s gonna ring,” peter mumbles and picks up his lunch tray. he heads to the garbage can without another word or goodbye to anyone.

“i’m gonna go check on him,” you tell harry, already getting up from the bench. “you do that,” he acknowledges and calls mj’s name again.

peter tosses his mostly untouched food in the trash, seeing you make your way over from the corner of his eye. he tries to speed walk inside so he doesn’t have to talk to you. you’re too quick, cornering him between the door and brick wall.

“we still have ten minutes,” you state, worry flashing across your face. he’s avoiding you. well, attempting to. “what’s wrong?” peter gulps before saying anything. “my next class is on the other side of the-“ “no,” you cut him off. “what’s really wrong?”

he doesn’t feel like having this discussion. it’s bad enough he came to the realization his feelings are one sided. must he break that down for you so soon?

you toy with your sleeve while you speak because peter doesn’t. “i thought you and harry were fine again. i mean, he kissed you.” peter clenches his jaw so hard he can imagine the sound of it cracking. “it’s not about harry.” “what, then? what the fuck happened?” your sleeves are now balled in your fists. you hate it when peter does this angsty routine.

he keeps his voice low and calm so he doesn’t come off as jealous or hurt. he’s both of those things. “the game is tomorrow. friday. when we were supposed to hang out.” you meet peter’s eyes with nothing but remorse in yours. “i... i forgot,” is all you have to say.

you feel awful. he’s had a tough couple of days, and you fell through on your promise to cheer him up.

“clearly,” peter remarks, voice sharp. the way you’re looking at him makes him think he won’t like what’s coming. “peter, we have to go,” you almost whine. “i’m really sorry, i am, but this is a big night for harry. he needs us there.” peter stays silent. you’re twisting the knife deeper into him with every word. “i wouldn’t be cancelling if this wasn’t important.”

now you’re cancelling?

you reach for peter’s hand, but he shoves it into his pocket. that stings for you and him. “please, peter. we’ll hang out at the game, i swear.” this is the last chance you’ve got, so you pile it on. “harry won’t even be there, technically. he’ll... he’ll be on the court.” peter hadn’t thought about that. he lets himself unclench, starting to see the appeal. you add one more thing to lighten the mood and persuade him.

“i’ll buy you popcorn, all you can eat.” it’s that easy. cracking a smile, peter accepts. he’ll deal with his unresolved, unreciprocated feelings after he stuffs his face, courtesy of you. “you better. i’m gonna need it for this long ass game.” your face lights up, grabbing his wrist in both hands.

“so, you’ll come?” “i’ll be there,” he confirms. you throw your arms around his neck. he laughs into the hug and holds you by your middle. “i promise this’ll be the first and last game we ever go to,” you say and mean it. harry is lucky you’re even suffering through this a first time. “thank god,” peter exhales, resting his chin on your head.

that interaction leaves peter confused as hell. you’re crushing his mind and soul one minute, then hugging him the next. you were making him feel so special lasts night, and treating harry the same way today. it’s so jumbled that he isn’t sure if he’s in the friend zone or something more zone.

there are a ton of mixed signals coming his way, and he sucks at reading people as is.

he can’t take another second of this. he’d rather you come out and say you like harry already because it’s torture. knowing you don’t want him in that way would at least eliminate the possibility of anything happening between you two, and allow him to stop driving himself insane.

he’d be able to stop taking it out on harry, too.

the hold you have on peter, that you’re oblivious to, rules his every thought and decision. he’s constantly analyzing what you say to him, debating whether or not your affection is simply platonic. it’s been half a year of this madness, the night of harry’s game blurring every line so much more.

your group arrives a bit early to find seats and hype harry up before he plays. peter gets there after all of you because he’s not exactly in a rush to watch sweaty guys be aggressive. there’s only one upside, which is spending the night with you... and everyone else.

he steps into the gym that’s filling up fast with family members, friends, and the college scout harry was talking about. midtown has a different feeling to it at night. the smell of pencils is oddly stronger, and it’s a lot less intimidating.

cheerleaders are huddled in a circle while the team supervisor has them run their chants. the “leading official,” who peter thought was called a referee, takes his place off to the side. coaches give their players last minute instructions, players fool around with each other, a lot is going on.

peter scans the room for you, and grins a toothy grin when you catch his eyes. you’re sitting by yourself in one of the middle bleachers, only a bag of skinny pop in your lap. you return the smile once you spot him and wave him over.

“i don’t know why, but i thought they’d have an actual concession stand,” you explain the lack of fresh, buttery popcorn as peter takes a seat next to you. he catches the prepackaged bag you toss him. “it’s just a snack table.” “works either way,” peter hums and pokes the bag. “i’m not sure skinny pop is all i can eat, though.” “it’s good!” you defend the snack you chose for him.

“i’m kidding! you’re right, it’s kind of addicting.” he puts it by his feet for now and gives you a half smile. “you’re welcome,” you deadpan in a playful tone. “thanks.” he narrows his eyes. “where’s everyone else?” “right,” you twist around and gesture to the bleacher above you. mj is gloomily seated near the back. ned and betty are a few behind you.

“i told them to find their own seats so we can sit together, alone.” you look over at peter and move ever so slightly closer. “welcome to our friday hangout. just the two of us.” “aw, you didn’t have to do that,” peter laughs out, his knee bumping yours. “but, i’m happy you did.” he goes to put an arm around you, then harry comes racing up the stairs.

just the two of you didn’t last so long.

“y/n, i’m freaking out,” harry announces, zooming through your row to get over to you. he stops once he’s standing in front of peter and shakes him by his shoulder. “hey, pete. you made it.” “yup,” peter replies, pressing his lips together. you wince at his reaction, then quirk an eyebrow at harry. “you’re freaking out? why?”

harry sits down between you and peter, blissfully unaware of the moment he interrupted.

“i found the scout. he’s fucking terrifying as fuck. this super ripped guy, looks like he’d rather be anywhere else,” he talks quietly, like the man will hear him. “he’s not the only one,” peter says to himself, kicking around his bag of popcorn to pass time. you ignore him and grimace.

“shit. wait, how do you know it’s him? did they tell you?” you’re not sure how these things go. harry casually shrugs a shoulder. “dude has a clipboard. seems legit to me.” he gives you a cocky smile. “he’s also in the row before mj. that’s how i noticed. um...” his back now facing peter, he whispers something in your ear that makes you giggle.

peter’s face scrunches up as the spark of anger the past few days have lit reignites itself.

when harry pulls away, you motion for him to come closer with your index finger, cupping your hand around his ear and speaking into it.

nope, no more. peter is entirely about to explode. you cancelled your plans so you can force him to watch basketball, you sweet talk him so he’ll let it go, and you’re running right back to harry after all of that? what the hell does that mean?

peter stands up from his seat. “y/n, we need to talk,” he demands, you moving away from harry to respond. “ok, gimme a minute. we’re-“ “no, we need to talk now.” you don’t have time to refute because he’s taking your arm and dragging you away. harry squints at you in utter confusion.

“um, have a good game! we’ll talk later,” you call back to him, walking with peter even though you have no idea what his issue is and aren’t a fan of how he’s acting.

he releases you once you’re in the hallway. you make a point of harshly yanking your arm back, a scowl painting your lips. “jesus, peter. i was having a conversation.” “do you like harry?” peter blurts out. you’re so shocked at his abruptness that you don’t give him much to work with, only, “what?” “do you like harry?” he asks you again, this time less accusing and more curious.

“do i like...” you’re too aware of the seemingly hundreds of people surrounding you to answer comfortably. “can we talk about this somewhere else?” “sure,” peter nods, letting you lead the way since he did to get out here. you two go down the hall and choose the first room you see, which happens to be the custodian’s closet. it’s thankfully unlocked.

things were tense between you and peter on the way over, and it’s physically mirrored when you step into the room, air thick and smelling of lemon cleaning supplies. you tug on the string hanging down to turn on the light. it casts a faded glow, leaving you in mostly darkness. you sort of like it. this feels more intimate, which is fitting for what you’re both about to say.

neither one of you knows where to begin. peter’s question is ringing in the back of your mind, and you could touch on that, but there’s more to it than a simple yes or no. you don’t have to worry about it because peter gets his words out first.

“i think harry likes you, and i think you like him back,” peter restarts, already sounding deflated by what he came up with. “he doesn’t, and i don’t.” you take a step towards him. “he likes mj.” it’s peter’s turn to be shocked. the hint of a smile sets on your lips. “that’s what we were talking about. harry asked if he should take her to dinner after the game, and i said yes.”

this is going better than he expected.

“mj is the one who likes him, not me,” you reiterate and watch some life enter peter again, a tiny bit. he’s coming around, and he wants to believe you. his trust issues don’t. “but, you’re so... touchy with each other. the hugging the other day?” he mentions. you tilt your head to the side in amusement. “friends can’t hug?”

to be fair, you hugged peter yesterday. that’s a point rightfully shut down.

“he calls you pretty,” peter tries, raising both eyebrows. you have to laugh at this one. “you call may pretty.”

obviously, peter’s analysis skills could use some serious improvements. it sounds like he had the right idea, wrong person. your relationship with harry is platonic. hell, he’s crushing on a whole different person. this actually opens up the possibility of you liking peter in the romantic way, of him being in the something more zone. he had it backwards.

in case peter isn’t convinced yet, and because you really want to, you use one more trick to prove to him you don’t like harry.

“do me and harry do this?” your lips speak for you, colliding with peter’s unexpectedly yet easily. he feels like he’s floating, like he’s in some sort of magical wonderland until it hits him that this is real, and he should probably kiss you back. he does so softly and tangles his fingers in your locks. his hand supports the back of your head as the kiss goes on.

you push forward so your bodies are almost fused together, the closest you can be while you hold his jaw. peter breaks the kiss for a short breather, going back in without more than a moment passing. this one is feverish, his free arm looping around your lower back, hand resting on the small of it. you let out a giggle against his swollen lips and stroke your thumb over his jawline.

he’s been waiting to do this for the longest time, but he doesn’t have to tell you that. it shows in how eager he was to reciprocate, his shyness blossoming into passion. you feel yourself melting under his touch, the kiss eventually becoming a series of short pecks. peter gives you the final one. his pink lips form a grin when you pull apart. your hands stay on each other, not in a rush to go anywhere.

“woah, i like you so much,” peter laughs out. the words roll off his tongue naturally. “you know i like you,” you drawl, smiling at him, a full body smile while you caress his skin. he winds both arms around you and dips his head down to steal another kiss. you’re loving what’s happening. however, you don’t feel like making out while dirty brooms stare at you. you should take this back home.

“wanna get out of here? i do,” you suggest, voice muffled from his lips. they detach from yours and brush your cheek gently. peter makes a funny face. “hm, i thought we had to come. harry needs us,” he says what you did yesterday, earning a groan back. “you’re joking.” “i’m not. what kind of friends would we be, ditching him like that?”

he’s going to end you one day.

“yeah, no. i have no idea how basketball works, and i’d like to keep it that way,” peter drops the act, pressing his fingers into your sides. “i’ve been so mean to harry. i was...” “a dick?” you finish for him. it’s more of a statement than a question. to soften the blow, you rub his cheek with the tips of your fingers. “yup. he’s gonna think i hate him or something if we don’t stay.” his formerly smiley face is frowning.

“harry of all people will understand after we tell him our reasons,” you reassure him, nudging under his chin with your nose. “besides, he has other things to worry about. mj, the scout. it’s fine.” peter considers it, ultimately giving in to you like he always does, resting his forehead on yours. “i guess so. less distractions for him, yeah.” “exactly. that’s what i wanna hear.”

having his approval, you unwind yourself from him and head to the door. his fingers wrap around your wrist gently. “what about my popcorn?” a giggle escapes your lips. “you’re still on that?” “you said all i can eat!” his voice comes out high pitched, adorably high pitched.

“fine. i might have those bags you put in the microwave.” you smile when his fingers lock with yours, peter kissing the side of your head.

“even better. let’s go home.”

[piratewithvigor]

How I listen to each of my favourite bands (a bullet point piece)

Aerosmith: They're on the radio. It's the fifth time today. Somehow never the same song. Until tomorrow, anyway. One will make you homesick. One will make you sit in slack-jawed awe of Joe Perry. One will make you curse the day he was born. They all make you love him. In the back of your mind, your thumbs hurt.

The Beatles: You have all the studio albums on your iPod nano with the scroll wheel. It has 2GB of space, so there's nothing else. You sing along to the songs with your best friend in 7th grade during school. The teacher tells you to keep it French or to shut up. You switch to "Michelle" because you're 12 and a smartass.

Bon Jovi: You're on the bus home from a long day of fifth grade. When you get home, the same old, same old. You don't know it yet but this is the beginning of your depression. As you graduate from Crossroads to a 2-Disc Best Of, everything feels worse. You work on a puzzle in the basement and even though maybe no one will ever love you, Bon Jovi understands.

Buddy Holly: For the first time since high school started, you have a friend. She's wonderful and she understands you. Maybe there's 3 time zones between you, but it doesn't stop you from digging a hole deep into a fantasy world that you live in for months with her. Buddy's music is simple and the records are bright yellow. Maybe everything will be okay.

David Bowie: You didn't care when he died. You didn't know better. You got a CD of greatest hits for your birthday two months later. You still didn't understand the fuss all too well. A few tracks pop out at you and you get the album that features them. Dad insists you listen to the album in the dark on the floor (he doesn't say while smoking weed, but if it were the 70s, you would have). Finally you understand: David understands you.

Def Leppard: You're 13 and trying to find your place in the world. Trying to make a name, so you write. As the characters who make no sense are fleshed out in 1667 words every single day, the drum loop that finished Pyromania follows you around.

The Doors: You don't know how Jim Morrison came into your life. Maybe it was by an experiment gone wrong or a curiosity. Your classmates question why you're reading a book with a shirtless man posed as if being crucified. You don't know how to answer that you think you might be him. You hadn't believed in reincarnation, but he sparked something inside you. You can feel consciousness slip away when he plays his game called 'Go Insane'. You hold a Celebration Of The Lizard for a poetry slam and the adrenaline pushes you through your fear. You feel Jim's words in your actions for years. He watches you when you sleep.

GNR: You send your siblings out of the basement. They aren't old enough to hear swear words in music and you want to listen to Appetite in the dark. You want to jump on top of the couch and punch the floor. You can feel Axl's anger and it courses through you.

Journey: You've been told you look like Steve Perry. You aren't sure if it's a compliment or an insult. You think you sound like him. You know all the words to Don't Stop Believing at the school dance. Your first memory of your boyfriend was him singing it at the talent show. Your last memory of him is singing I'll Be Alright Without You, severing the final tie. Wheel In The Sky opens your next day. Things don't feel okay anymore.

KISS: You're 4 years old and your Dad is watching the scariest freaks you've ever seen on the TV. In the next scene, the scariest one is sitting and talking to people who look like your grandparents. You forget about them for 7 years. They show up again in your newest hyperfixation and you give them a chance. The freaks who once scared you strip away your fears and set you free.

Led Zeppelin: Your imagination was just opened to the possibilities of stories beyond the realms of reality. What you thought you never knew opened you to a new layer of your past that you didn't understand. The tendrils of influence wrap around every part of your future.

Motley Crue: The writings paint them as the villains. In many ways, they are. In just as many ways, they're the same scared kids you are. For better or for worse, they bring you into a community. There, you experiment hurting yourself in ways therapists don't look for. The greatest friend you could ever want.

Ninja Sex Party: They're a rock band for kids who don't understand rock bands. You have no physical media for them and it feels like you may never get the chance. Copies are limited. So your spotify is thick with every song they've ever recorded. They're fleeting and they're your rock.

Queen: You know just a little too much about them. They're bigger characters than the radio lets them be. You love Bohemian Rhapsody before you begin to hate it before you learn to love it once more.

Rammstein: As they bleed for their art, so you bleed for yours. Perhaps out of spite, perhaps out of desperation, but plague cuts your work short. It cuts you from the glory you could have had. The first album you've ever waited for the release of by a band.

Reckless Love: Never before has a band felt so attainable and yet so far away. Your family doesn't understand them, so you hide them away. The only recklessness was falling in love.

Rolling Stones: Angie helped you through more than you know. The lips are on your tapestry for a reason. You were blind for so much for so long. You never gave them a chance. They're using their chance now.

Rush: Once shrugged-off nobodies. You gave them a chance out of curiosity and desperation. Now you can't understand the possibility of never having liked them. They brought you your first great grief and your first proof of miracles. The red star of the solar federation burns bright. Assume control.

Styx: You're standing in the snow. The bus is an hour late. You can't contact your parents because they took your one method of contact as a punishment for not making your bed. You're listening to a Greatest Hits on your iPod. Crystal Ball. It's an hour. Blue Collar Man. You get home and no one noticed you were late. They're eating without you. Suite Madam Blue.

Tom Petty: The news hits you. Your throat is blocked and you don't say anything. You listen to I Won't Back Down before telling your Dad. He was the first you experienced while being a fan. He wasn't the last. You torture yourself artistically in his honour. You attend a tribute concert and scream yourself hoarse.

Tuff: You want to leave home and block out all the memories as best you can. Stevie makes it impossible. But he's also one of the only ones there as all your best friends who aren't online forget your birthday. He acknowledges you.

Van Halen: The grief is insurmountable. For weeks afterwards, Eruption makes your heart sink. 5150 makes you cry instead of imagine pleasant nonsense as it once did. There is no comfort. If he can go, what's stopping anyone else?

The Who: Maybe they got to your head a little. You were sitting in a room in school for hours each day, completely alone except for Tommy playing on your tiny laptop. No supervision. No classmates. Just your monstrosity of a project and Tommy.

[caffeinatedbraincell]

So you asked about prompts? ;D What about Joe/Nicky + any team member cuddling for warmth? Or something about all of them sharing clothes? Huge bonus if Lykon is still part of the Guard ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you anon for the ask!! 💕 This took forever but here it is~

Read on AO3

“Whose idea was this, again?” Joe complained, readjusting the weight of the front half of the giant plastic evergreen. He was sweating and freezing at the same time, which was decidedly one of his least favorite feelings ever.

“Yeah, I wonder,” Quynh seconded from behind him, throwing Andy a dirty look.

Andy sauntered hands-free in front of them, talking animatedly with Nicky and Lykon as they walked. The three of them clearly loved the snow, though Joe doubted they would be having even half as much fun if they had to carry the tree.

Quynh spat out some plastic pine needles. “Andromache! It’s your turn to carry this, come here!”

“Pleeease babe, we’re almost home!”

“Yeah,” Nicky interjected. “Besides, we have to carry the presents!” He waved the small, sparkly gift bag at them before pointedly turning back around.

Joe muttered something in Arabic about lazy spouses with nice asses, and Quynh cackled.

“Alright, alright,” Lykon interjected, jumping in front to get everyone’s attention. “Booker just texted me that he’s managed to get Nile out of the house under the pretext of, and I quote, ‘the snowball duel of the century.’ They’re going to the mountain pass, so we have two hours to get set up.”

“Perfetto,” Nicky said. “It’ll take me about twenty minutes to get the cookies in the oven, and then I’ll help decorate the tree.”

“You better get out in less than twenty,” Quynh warned. “When am I supposed to work? Do you even know how long it takes to cook chicken?”

“He doesn’t,” Joe confirmed.

“Habibi, that’s not fair. What about that time I made-”

A long, ominous buzz innervated all of their phones simultaneously. It was an emergency weather alert.

“Blizzard warning until 2:15 AM. All inner city residents are encouraged to shelter in place until further notice. Sudden snowfall and landslides may prove deadly,” Nicky read.

“Lykon, text Booker,” Andy ordered.

“On it.”

“No use,” Nicky cut in. “They’re probably already at the mountain pass. They won’t make it back in time.”

Andy swore loudly. “Joe, get the car. We’re going after them.”

Quynh and Joe dropped the tree and ran towards the house. By the time Joe started the car, Quynh was climbing down the porch steps with an armful of towels. The five of them piled into the car and tore down the icy roads.

The storm picked up with terrifying haste. When they got to the bridge near the mountain pass, visibility was already nearing zero. Joe switched places with Andy, clambering into the passenger seat so she could take the wheel. If anything could help them now, it was Andy’s extensive experience with driving in extreme weather conditions.

As they traveled through the pass, everyone kept their eyes trained on the snowy slopes, looking for any signs of Nile and Booker.

Suddenly, Lykon cried out in horror. Only a few feet away from the road were two motionless bodies, almost fully buried in a snow drift.

“Cazzo!” Nicky yelled, leaping out of the car. “There must have been an avalanche!”

Andy shoved the gearshift into parking and followed, joining the others as they attempted to dig out their friends with their bare hands. About two minutes after the frostbite set in, they were able to pull Nile and Booker free of the drift.

“Why aren’t they waking up?” Lykon asked, a tinge of panic in his voice. Andy rubbed Nile’s wrist as she looked at her watch, attempting to measure a pulse. Nicky tried to do the same for Booker, unconsciously chanting a Hail Mary under his breath.

Quynh stepped forward. “We need to get them back to the car. The heater will warm them up and help dry them off. Come on.”

Joe picked up Nile in his arms, cradling her head. Quynh threw Booker over her shoulders in a fireman’s carry. This time, they noticed neither the weight nor the cold. Their entire focus was on getting their friends home to warmth and safety.

“Joe, your coat,” Andy said as they got to the car. “It’s fleece. Take Nile’s ski jacket off and give her yours.”

Joe obeyed without hesitation, bundling her in his own winter gear and buckling her into the back seat. Meanwhile, Quynh and Nicky used the towels to dry off Booker’s snow coat as best as they could. Lykon climbed into the passenger seat, and Andy began to drive.

Thankfully, the storm didn’t get worse on their way back (though Joe seriously doubted it could get worse). By the time Andy pulled into their driveway, Nile and Booker were beginning to stir.

“Hey, easy now,” Lykon soothed, helping a dazed Booker out of the car. “Let’s get you inside. There we go, you’re okay. Just a little farther.”

Behind them, Nile leaned heavily on Quynh as she half-carried her up the porch steps. Joe paused, watching them enter.

“All okay?” Andy asked, placing a hand on his shoulder as the wind whipped the snow around them.

“The tree…” Joe muttered, fazed. “I dropped it somewhere. We were going to surprise Nile, and I-”

Andy turned him gently to face her, pulling his woolen beanie down to cover his ears.

“It’s alright, love,” she said softly, switching to Arabic. “She needs a different kind of comfort from us now. She and Booker both. Let’s go take care of them, okay?”

Joe nodded, following her into the warmth of their home.

A fire blazed happily in the hearth. Someone had expanded their futon and pulled it closer to the fireplace. Nile and Booker were seated on it now, wearing large, clean sweatpants - Nicky’s sweatpants, Joe noticed - and fuzzy Christmas sweaters. Quynh and Lykon were snuggled up on either side of them, feeding them something from a thermos flask and adjusting the heated blankets.

“Room for two more?” Andy grinned, curling up next to Quynh and gesturing at Joe to sit. “What’s that?” Joe asked, sliding under Lykon’s side of the blanket and pointing at the steaming drink in the thermos.

“I made apple cider earlier and left it in the instant pot,” Lykon replied. “It was still hot.”

Lykon held the drink to Nile’s lips. She took a large sip, sighing happily. Joe made a mental note to pour himself some cider if he ever got out from under this heated blanket.

Just then, Nicky walked out of the kitchen, balancing a large tray in his hands. “Soup time! Everyone sit up, let’s eat.”

Joe blinked, wondering how his husband had had the presence of mind to immediately go into the kitchen and make soup, of all things. He himself was still recovering from the last hour’s ordeal.

Nicky tutted disapprovingly. “Boss, get changed. Joe, you too. Why would you think it’s a good idea to get under an electric blanket in wet clothes?”

Andy grimaced, throwing her jacket and t-shirt on the floor and snuggling up to Quynh in just her bra. Quynh tugged Andy closer.

Nicky turned to Joe, raising an eyebrow. “Habibi?”

Joe pulled a face. “Do you have any sweatpants left for me?”

“Always.” Nicky ruffled Joe’s curls. “My gray university ones are in the dryer. They’ll still be warm if you hurry.”

Joe got up, returning two minutes later in the gray sweatpants and a black tank top he stole off of Andy’s dresser. He hastily dove back under Lykon’s heated blanket.

In the middle of the couch, swaddled in blankets and eating soup, Nile and Booker were looking much more alive. The color returned to their cheeks, intensifying as Nicky began to scold them.

“Booker, what the fuck were you thinking?” he demanded.

“I don’t know! You said to distract Nile, and she wanted to have a snowball fight. So I said yes!”

“Why didn’t you just go to the park?”

“I thought driving out to the mountain pass would buy you guys more time. It was a bad idea. I’m sorry.”

“You could have died, Book! Just because we’re immortal doesn’t mean we can play with our lives like that. Not to mention, you put Nile in danger!”

Quynh sat up, reaching for Nicky’s hands. She swiped her thumbs over his knuckles in a soothing gesture. “Hey, lay off him, would you? They’ve had a tough night.”

“But what if-”

“No what-ifs, Nicky. It’s alright. They’re safe. Now put the rest of that soup down and come here.”

Nicky sighed in secret gratitude. This was not a night he wanted to be left to follow his thoughts. “Fine.”

He squeezed onto the futon between Quynh and Nile, accepting the blanket Andy threw over him. He wrapped his arms around Nile, who snuggled closer.

“Nicky?” she mumbled after a moment.

“Hmm?”

“If you’re not still angry, can I ask you a question?”

Nicky pulled back to look at her. “Sorellina, I’m so sorry. I was never angry at you. Nor at Booker, really. Just a bit worried.”

“Yeah,” Joe piped up from the other end of the couch. “He gets mean when he’s scared.”

“I am not mean,” Nicky insisted. “Nile, what was it you wanted to ask?”

“Why did Booker say you wanted him to distract me? Distract me from what?”

Lykon laughed. “Should we tell her, Nicky, or do we plan to try again tomorrow?”

“We lost the tree, so I think we should just tell her,” Joe voted sleepily.

“You just don’t want to carry another tree,” Booker accused.

“Easy for you to say!” Quynh jumped in. “Next time, I’ll distract her, and you can walk a mile in the snow with plastic pine needles in your face.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Andy said, lips twitching. “No more attempts. Jesus wasn’t actually born on this day, anyway. I was there.”

Nicky blinked at her, and then rapidly shook his head to clear it. He looked at Nile. “We were trying to surprise you with a Christmas party. Remember last Thursday, when you were telling us how your family celebrated it back home?”

“Yeah.”

“We wanted to recreate all the same traditions. We got a tree, and some ornaments, and stockings with your initials on it, and, uh…”

“Presents! And that Christmas music you like,” Joe added.

“Yes, and Nicky was going to make cookies shaped like reindeer,” Quynh said.

“Also,” Lykon pointed to a folded-up tripod in the corner, “we were going to take family photos in our sweaters and put them on postcards. Copley said we can’t send them to anyone, but we could still make some.”

Booker sighed. “Sorry I ruined it, Nile. I thought- wait, are you crying?!”

Nile sniffled, turning away from Booker to tuck her face under the blanket. “No.”

“Oh, honey,” Quynh cooed. We can still do it all tomorrow, if you want…”

“It’s not that,” Nile croaked. “It’s just- You guys did all that just to surprise me?”

“It’s nothing,” Nicky assured. “Well, it’s really nothing now, but even if everything had gone according to plan, it still wouldn’t have been any trouble. It’s your first Christmas with us, and we wanted it to be memorable.”

“You’re the best,” Nile said, voice choked with emotions. “All of you. And this is the best Christmas Eve ever. Thank you.”

“Hush,” Andy smirked. “In this house, we show gratitude by not dying unnecessarily.”

“Oh, that was all Booker’s fault,” Nile countered smoothly. “I would have been content with a snowball fight in the park.”

“Really loving the underside of this bus,” Booker muttered as the others laughed.

Over the next hour, the lighthearted conversation drifted into sleepy silence. By the time Nicky thought to ask who would turn off the lights, Joe was only half-pretending to be fast asleep.

[elphiej]

Be My Light - Chapter 4:   The Mad Leader

*Genre: Mafia, angst, eventual smut, slow burn

*Warnings: References to violence, minor assault, 

Author’s note: First off, I’d like to send a special Thank You to someone who was a huge inspiration to me and to this story. This is the chapter that really started it all and I was inspired by @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng  ‘s mafia reaction series. She is a fantastic person and was one of the first people I showed this Be My Light to when I was too scared to post it. She is a beautiful soul and wonderful writer. Thank you for the push. 

Another Big thanks to my editor for sticking with me all this time and into the future. And, of course, to all the people who are reading, commenting, and reblogging this. I can’t tell you all how much is means to me. Thank you all and I hope you enjoy this next installment of Be My Light. (P.S. I have a thing for RM in a long trench coat.)

Tag list:  @lolalalooo @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng, @barbikatherine , @mrsfortune1306 , @lovesick-heart0 , @iamnamjoonsbxtch , @deathkat657 , @deeepvibes , @sugamonster22 , @weiinihao, @hemmofluke , @rainbow-zebra-unicorns , @joyfullyobsessed , @elvencantation , 

                                   Chapter 4: The Mad Leader

              You stared at the cell phone clutched in your hand, your mind spinning with so many questions. Who were those people? Why did talking to this ‘RM’ make you feel like something bad was coming? With that deep, serious tone, were they just as dangerous as the man with the cane? And what kind of normal person calls themselves ‘RM’? Agust was already on the edge of interesting and odd as it was. Scanning over the still lit screen, you wondered what other names were in the contact list. Other than ‘God of Destruction’, the last few calls you could see without going through the device belonged to ‘Mochi’, ‘My Favorite’, and ‘Worldwide Pain in my Ass’. Based on those names, you couldn’t begin to imagine who was gonna match those names.

               It was safe to assume that this RM guy was concerned about the man in the suit trying to finish the job. The hospital had a good security team but you thought it best to talk to Doctor- Henry- to see if more could be done. Your hand paused as it went to put the cell phone back with Agust’s things; if RM or any of the odd named voices tried to contact you for an update, they would most likely call that, instead of trying to navigate the hospital switch board. Figuring it was the best option, you placed the phone safely in your scrub’s pocket as you moved to the bedside for one last check on the patient. Agust hadn’t moved again since right before the phone call and was still as could be. The monitors were all reading normally. There was a blood transfusion line in his arm to help replace what he had lost, along with another IV pushing fluids and medication. You adjusted his arm to make it more comfortable for him once he woke up.

               “I’ll be back to check on you as soon as I can,” you said as you fixed his blankets. “Please, try not to do anything until I get back.”

               You slipped out of the room and pulled the door shut behind you. There was an anxious feeling that crept back into your gut, the same one you felt when you had first heard the gun shots ring out from the silence of the construction site. Your mind had so many thoughts and scenarios running through it that you felt overwhelmed. Things like, ‘what if the man with the cane and rough voice came here? Would he shoot his way through the floors until he found Agust? Were you really as safe as you hoped?’ The hospital had been under a few threats but nothing had ever come from those except words. It would be best to stay as cautious as possible. You had too many friends and patients to not take your feelings seriously.

               As you made your way towards your station, you were surprised to see that Henry was already there leaning over the desk with the phone pressed up against his ear. He pulled a pad of paper from the other side of the desk and started scribbling something down as he nodded and spoke in a low tone to whomever was on the other end. That saves me from having to page him, you mused. Henry did a double take towards you when he noticed you out of the corner of his eye. He beaconed you over with an urgent wave of his hand. The calm yet awkward demeanor from earlier had been replaced with a more serious one. Once you were within an arm’s reach of him, he reassured whomever he was talking to that ‘everything will be taken care of’ and hung up.

               “Good,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I need you to help me.”

               “Henry, about that John Doe patient. I was able to talk to someone close to him. I think we may need to alert the security team about- “

               “I’ve already talked to them. The hospital is going on alert for any suspicious activity entering the hospital. And we are actually moving the patient to one of the private units upstairs. I just got off the phone with the director and we’ve got everything worked out for you so you’ll be safe,” he said over his shoulder as he started walking down the hall.

               “Wait, what does that mean? What do you mean by worked everything out?” You took extra long steps to keep up with his brisk pace.

               “The same person who demanded higher security for that patient requested that you be kept with him as his private staff until otherwise. Which means you’ll be in the secure ward with him in case anything happens. It’s gonna be for the best. You were the first one with him and it’s gonna be more comfortable if he doesn’t have to get acclimated to someone else after all this. Don’t worry, we’ve got it worked out with Jax already.”

               Henry led you back into Agust’s room and made fast work of disconnecting him from the machines that surrounded him. He pulled the IV bags down and placed them on the bed by the still form. Meanwhile, you were frozen at the end of the bed, feeling dizzy from how fast he seemed to expect you to understand what was happening. This wasn’t the first gang related case you had been assigned to since starting at Mercy, nor was it the first gunshot case; why did this sudden change to the routine make you feel ever more nervous? Never had you moved a patient into a secure wing designed from more severe or quarantined patients before just because someone had requested it. Henry called your name to shake you from your thoughts and motioned you to move to the side of the bed as he unlocked the wheels of the gurney and pushed the bed from the wall. As you helped guide it from the room, you couldn’t help but feel the tension grow.

               “So, I am just supposed to stay locked up in some room like a prisoner? And be someone’s private nurse? What about the rest of my patients here? I can’t just leave Amber to tend to them all alone. We are short staffed as it is,” you mentioned as you navigated everyone into the elevator at the end of the hall.

               Henry hit a button and the elevator started to move. He leaned close to look you in the face, his eyes filled with seriousness. “Listen, Y/N, I know this is strange but you just have to trust me. I don’t know all the details but someone particularly important has to be involved to make the director so quick to comply with whatever they asked. But no matter what, your safety is my priority, maybe a bit more than my patients. I’m sure the director thinks that too. Whoever it is must just want to make sure this guy has the best care possible. And when he gets here, he’ll probably want to hear from you what happened. And if whatever gang did this does try anything, I don’t want you to worry because no one is going to get to him or you. Only the director, you, and I will have access to this room or know where he is. Apparently, the man the director talked to said he would have a way to get a hold of you and prove his identity to gain access. I know how you are, Y/N, you are a great person. That’s why you’re so good at what you do. But don’t think that you are inconveniencing anyone; Jax has already rearranged everything and made some calls. I really need you to think about yourself now. And what is best is for you is to do what I am asking and not over think this right now.”

               Henry was being so sincere that you couldn’t find the voice to make any arguments. You gave him a weak nod and tried to take what he said to heart. As Amber had pointed out before, one of your qualities was that you put others well before yourself. Hence, why you were in this predicament. As the doors opened onto the new floor, you promised him that you would try.

               The door opened onto a floor where the more severe, long term patients were kept. This floor could, also, be used for quarantining or the more delicate of patients. At the moment, you knew it had only a few occupants: a coma patient, a patient suffering from extreme burns, and someone from the psych ward that needed more focused attention. To enter this ward, you needed a key card, making this more isolated than your full and frantic floor. Henry commented there was no record that Agust had been moved in any of the files. And if anyone tried to look him up, it would be like he never existed. The person who had called to make all this happen had said he’d contact you and that he and his colleagues were to say they were here to perform community service if asked by anyone else. Apparently, they deemed it as security protection. Henry had you swipe your ID to gain access to the floor and you made your way down the silent hall to the vacant room Henry had staked out for you to stay in. The room was bigger than the one you were used to on your floor. There was a small couch across from where the bed was to go, a private bath off near the entrance, and even a TV in the corner. There was, also, a small recliner near where the head of the gurney was to rest. You imagined you’d be there most of the time. Henry helped you set everything back up in the room and did a quick check on the patient after he was secured in his new residence.

               “Hopefully, he’s gonna wake up a bit soon. He’s reacting well to what I’m doing,” Henry commented as he checked Agust’s pupils constrict as he shined his pen light in them. He gave some instructions about his IV and transfusion processes. He gave you a quick run down of the floor in case you needed anything. “Until he wakes up, I guess feel free to do whatever in here. It can be like a mini vacation. You know, if you ignore all the weird stuff happening. You can watch some TV or order some food. The mysterious man said to spare no expense when it came to our patient or you. I promise by Friday this will be all over and we can go out and talk about nicer things. Okay?”

               Before you could stop yourself, you felt your cheeks get hot and you turned your eyes to the floor. This was not the best place for this, but you knew Henry did it to only ease the anxiety you were feeling. He was almost too perfect. Henry promised to check in once he had finished his rounds as he left from the room and pulled the door shut behind him. You heard the security lock click into place, knowing it would only open from the inside or if you had an ID card. You allowed yourself to drop into the recliner, allowing everything to wash over you. Paranoia was thick in the air as you tried to make sense of everything. Henry was right; whoever these people were they must just want to talk to you and this was easier than scouting the halls. But the thought did very little to chase the nervousness away. Your hands started to rub together out of tension, squeezing your fingers, cracking your knuckles one by one with your thumbs. You took a few deep breaths as you tried to force yourself out of the impending panic. Your eyes looked over at the bed. You tried to remind yourself that you needed to keep it together and be strong for him. Then your eyes landed on his hand. You remembered when you were hiding behind the counter when the man with the cane was getting closer and closer. And when Agust had reached over and squeezed your hand. In that moment, he gave you reassurance with such a small gesture, not thinking of himself. You remembered how genuine it felt. It’d be nice if you could do that now, you thought with a weak smile.

               Instead, you settled for forcing yourself to think of something else. You read through his charts, tapped through some news on your phone, and tried to people watch out the window behind the couch. The afternoon sun had started making its way towards the horizon; how quickly the day had ended up flying by. You had decided against turning on the television for now, thinking how awkward it would be for him to wake up to you watching some trash TV show. You tried walking around the room to get a sense of where you’d be staying for the foreseeable future. But all of that only killed twenty minutes and you were still stir-crazy. There wasn’t much you could do for Agust at the moment, except allow him to rest without you trying to hold his hand or anything else.

               Suddenly, there was a buzzing in your pocket; it was Agust’s phone. You were a bit ashamed at how quickly you reached for it. There was a new text message. It was from a new named contact: Sunshine. The preview of the message said, ‘To Miss Nurse’, making your assumption that the people on the other end would have expected you to keep the phone on you correct. And since it was addressed to you, you didn’t feel too bad about opening the phone again. You swiped open the text and tried not to scroll anywhere higher into their previous chats.

-          Sunshine: To Miss Nurse. if you see this, please take good care of our Hyung. And if he gives you any trouble, tell him I said to behave. RM should be almost there. He tends to speed.  

               There were a couple silly emojis next to it that made you smile. Surely, they can’t be bad people if this is how they communicate. They must be close friends. Though, you still wondered how they had gotten the director to do all this. Maybe there was someone else doing all of this? You shook your head and typed a quick message back, so not to have them worry.

-          I’ll take good care of him. That’s my job.

You really hoped Agust didn’t mind you messing with his phone. Though, you figured it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission in this scenario. There was no response which made you think that it was all he needed at the time. Gazing at the clock on the phone, you had wasted thirty minutes in the room so far. You thought of your backpack in the locker room a few floors down and some of your things at your stations that you could pass the time with. Since Agust was secure here, you thought it may be a good idea to gather some things to help you waste time until this RM shows up. It was unlikely that Agust was going to wake up yet, and you could be fast so he wouldn’t be alone for long. You slipped the phone back into your pocket and rose from the chair, heading for the door. You cast one more look at the still figure in the bed before dimming the lights and pulled the door shut behind you.

               You set off at a brisk pace for the elevator and took it down a few levels to where the staff locker room was kept. You raced in, pulled your bag from your locker, and left before anyone noticed you. You were sure since the director had put the whole hospital on alert that everyone was making rounds to keep eyes everywhere. You hoped grabbing your stuff from your station was just as easy; you weren’t sure about how to explain why you had suddenly deserted your station. Amber wasn’t there but you could hear her and Jax talking loudly from a back room. You wanted to talk to your best friend, to help ease some nerves and have her tell you exactly what you needed to hear. But you didn’t want to wait around or take her away from her new workload. You pulled open the drawer where you kept some personal items, incase of slower work days, and shoved them into your bag. You froze when your fingers hit against something that you knew, instantly, should not be in your bag. Peering into the opening, your eyes locked onto a metallic, black, studded object that you had seen earlier that morning.  

              The gun Agust had placed in your hand.

             How did that get in there? You didn’t remember grabbing it unless it had happened in the chaos of the EMTs and police rushing to assess the situation. Well, if you weren’t already anxious, this just made it worse. Let’s just add this to the ever-growing list of stupid things I’ve done today, you berated yourself. You brought a potentially loaded gun into a hospital. You needed to get back up to the room and get this out of your possession. Maybe when this RM got there, he could take it from you. You pulled the bag shut and slugged it over your shoulder, trying hard not to think about it.

            You moved away from the desk and down the hall towards the elevator. But as you stepped into the silent hall with all the doors closed, one was not closed as it had been when you left; the room where Agust had been. And there was someone looking inside. There was a man, tall and stocky, and dressed in a simple navy uniform. He wasn’t a part of the hospital staff and you didn’t think he was there to clean the room with the lights still off. Trying to stay as unnoticed as you could, you took longer strides towards the end. As you passed behind him, you peered beyond him into the pitch blackness of the room to just make out another figure lurking there. He wasn’t dressed in the same way as the man in the door. He was in darker colors that you couldn’t make out and wore what looked like a fedora on his head. What caught your attention as you passed, was the small peek of icy, blue hairs that were just visible on the side. A deep grumble that sounded from the room made your breath catch in your throat, and made you stop in your tracks. It sounded so familiar to the sadistic voice from this morning. The man with the cane had gotten into the hospital?! How, they upped security measures, hadn’t they? Maybe it was your imagination playing with you with all the stress. Not wanting to stick around to figure out if you were right, you tried to get away before they had noticed you.

            But, sadly, you weren’t that lucky.

           ��Excuse me, nurse. Perhaps you can help me.”

           You felt your whole body stiffen as the voice was all to clearly the one that had stalked you from beyond the counter. The voice that dripped with crazed malice and venom as he called out for Agust, that had taunted and tried to lure him out. The voice that you were sure would haunt your dreams. It was the man with the cane, though he didn’t have it now. As you turned, he looked nothing like the half-crazed man yelling and destroying things around him. He looked almost normal, save for the fake smile he had plastered across his lips. He was no longer dressed in the light blue suit and fur coat you had caught a glimpse behind the counter, but in a simple dark blazer and trousers. The man who lingered in the doorway had come to stand next to him as they walked up to you, dressed in a police uniform. His uniform cap was pulled low to obscure his face, though you could see bruising and swelling through the shadows. Both of them gave a slight bow to you.

           “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Inspector Taop, this is officer Chen. We are here following up on a patient that was supposed to be brought here. I’ve been looking everywhere, but no one has an answer for me whether he is here or not. And I haven’t seen a single worker on this floor.”

           He had never seen you at the scene so you knew he didn’t recognize you, or could see that you didn’t believe anything that was coming out of his mouth. That would help you, you decided. You took a deep breath and tried to hide the fear and nervousness. Just act normal. Try to stall until someone comes around.

           “Sorry, officer, we’re a bit understaffed as it is. What can I help you with?”

           “I’m looking for a patient that was brought here. Gunshot victim, a young man, brought in this morning?”

           “Can you be a bit more specific? We are a hospital. Do you know how many young men we have come in here with some kind of bullet wound? I had six this month.”

           You saw the smile slip and irritation rise in those cold eyes. He cleared his throat, trying to hold on to his polite composure. “This one would have come in this morning. There was a shooting downtown. He would have had multiple gunshot wounds. One nurse said he was brought in by ambulance this morning, but then another said that they found no record of him. And the last person I talked to sent me here. Please, this is very important.”

           “Can I see your badge, sir?” He looked completely off guard by the question. You, also, seemed confused. It had just jumped out of your mouth before you realized it. But it seemed like the right thing to ask. You continued, “There’s been a threat made to the hospital, you see, and I need to make sure that everything is in order. I would get in trouble if I gave such information about any patient to an imposter.”

           You could see the wheels in his head turning. But you didn’t expect him to nod his head, understandingly, and reach into his pocket to hand you a leather, bifold wallet. Was this psycho really a police officer? How could someone so vile be in law enforcement? You thought back to what little memories of your father that you had lingering in the back of your mind and couldn’t begin to imagine him doing anything like what this man had done, no matter how bad of a criminal they were. Before you could think, your body seemed to act on it’s own again and opened the wallet and your eyes started to dance across the metal shield. You weren’t entirely sure what you were looking for at first. Until your eyes caught it and something clicked in your mind. It was a fake, but an exceptionally good fake. Anyone else would have just taken it at face value but something in your mind flashed and screamed that this was a fake like the smile still on the ‘inspector’s’ face. In the reaches of your memory, you remembered running your fingers over your father’s badge, memorizing every detail. And you still did that when you were stressed out; you still had his badge and it was currently in the front pocket of your bag. And you seemed to recall your father teaching you how to identify a real badge from others.

           A sudden anger took hold of you that seemed to spur on some brave part of you. You closed the wallet and handed it back to him, keeping your face neutral to hide that you were even more sure of his act. Maybe it was the dishonor to officers like your father, or that he was trying to get to the boy you had risked a lot to save. And your hard work was not going to waste. “I’m sorry officer. But like I said, we have a few patients that could fit your description. None on this floor at all. And if the other nurses said they have no record of him, I’m not sure what I can do for you. Besides that, if we did have a patient come in with multiple gunshot wounds, I imagine that they’d need extensive surgery and wouldn’t be conscious to answer any questions you could have. And with no guardian to act in their place until they are awake to consent to a line of questioning about a traumatic experience, I can’t let you go any further. You should know that, Officer.”

           The smile was wiped from the man’s face. The uniformed man’s eyes got wide at your declaration and they shifted towards his leader in panic. Taop, or whatever his real name was, straightened up and took a step towards you. He towered over you and the energy radiating from him would have intimidated you into submission. Just like with your ex. But you needed to protect Agust. In any case, all you needed to do was scream and someone would be alerted. There wasn’t much this asshole could accomplish without being found out. But he continued to advance until he backed you up against the wall. Even still, you never broke eye contact with him.

           “I don’t think you understand the situation of this, little girl,” he said, rage tittering on the edge of his voice. “There are some really dangerous people and it would be a shame if you got caught in the crossfires. It’s in your best interest to answer my questions and tell me what I need to know.”

           “Then bring a warrant,” you challenged.

           His hand collided with the wall next to your head, making you jump. His face was so close to yours now, and there was the crazed man you remembered from this morning. Your heart was in your ears. He, suddenly, took a deep inhale then another before tilting his head to the side. “What a brave little girl. Tell me, where were you this morning? Something tells me you may be exactly who I need to talk to.”

           “Hey, back off her!”

           Both you and the man turned to look down the hall towards the elevator towards the source of the deep voice that had interrupted the line of questioning. The doors of the elevator were opened and from them stepped a young man with platinum white hair. His eyes were haunting and strong, like a dragon woken from his peace. He was exceptionally tall, taking long strides towards the scene. You couldn’t help but let your eyes take in the man who was coming to your rescue. Dressed in a dark trouser and a white buttoned up shirt gave him a classic handsomeness, and a long black coat with a hood drawn up that accentuated his height. As he approached, he slid the hood down and swiped his hand up to push the stray white hairs from his face. If you weren’t terrified, you would have appreciated how handsome he was. You glanced back at the man caging you; his body tensed as the newcomer walked up but his face never showed.

           He let out a sigh and a small smile reappeared, but it was not the same he had tried to charm you with. It was one of arrogance.  “Ah, Mr. Kim,” the inspector said, not moving from his position, “how nice of you to drop in.”

          “You’ve got some nerve,” the handsome newcomer said, his tone low and smooth. 

          “What for? Being too formal? Do you not like me using your surname? I’m not sure which name you prefer now; you change names so often, it’s hard to keep up after all this time.”

          “You’re one to talk. What name are you going by now, officer? Here to investigate a fraud? Or are you here to put yourself into more trouble?”

          “Such a negative attitude. Officer Chen and I are here on official business,” the detective flashed his badge at the so named Mr. Kim. “And this nice young lady was willing to help me out with some information. Isn’t that right, Little Girl?”

          “It sure doesn’t look that way coming from the elevator. I think you need to take a step back,” Mr. Kim ordered with a strong but suggestive tone that made you question what kind of power someone as young looking as him could possess.

          The fake detective made no sign that he was planning on heeding the newcomer’s words to move from your personal space. His eyes shifted from Mr. Kim back to you. His stare bore into you sharper than claws and made your breath catch. You weren’t sure if he was trying to scare you into agreeing with him or just threaten you. But Mr. Kim was having none of that; he gave the older man’s shoulder a hard shove and wedged himself in the space between you to keep you away from the other man. Mr. Kim reached a hand behind him and placed it on your arm, to keep you secure behind him and to give you some reassurance that he was not going to hurt you. You couldn’t help yourself, as you fisted your hands into the back of his coat and peered around his massive frame.

          “You always have to play savior, don’t you Rapmon?” The way he had said the name made it seem like he was trying to strike a nerve in Mr. Kim. But the other man gave no sign that he was bothered. “You make it seem like I was doing something unseemly to her. You and your broken boy scouts always turn things difficult. Speaking of, where are the others? Maybe they could answer some questions for me. There’s one in particular I’m interested in seeing. I’m checking up on a victim from a shooting downtown. Just making sure he’s doing alright.”

          “You’re really committed to this bit, aren’t you Choi? Oh, sorry- what name are you going by today? It’s so hard to keep track, isn’t that what you said?” Mr. Kim tilted his head to the side, eyes twinkling with a mischievous shine.

          “What a nuisance you are. I’m just trying to get information to make sure things go well. Though come to think of it, your boys may not know much. Word was that the victim was all alone. Left all by themselves, bleeding and hurt in such a dangerous situation. What kind of friends would let someone knowingly go into that situation alone? Now, I’d really like to finish my conversation with the little lady, Rapmon.” When Choi, as you figured his name actually was, took a step towards you, Mr. Kim moved the both of you to keep you behind him and further away from the other. “Well, since you seem hellbent on keeping me from doing something so simple, I could always ask you. Though to be honest, your being here may have answered my questions.”

          “My being here answers nothing,” Mr. Kim challenged. “Unlike you, I am here to do good for the community. And it’s a good thing I came by when I did. You’re already on thin ice after all the trouble you’ve caused. Imagine what would happen if you caused any problems while on Hallowed Ground. If you were to hurt anyone staying or working here, you would have more than my family looking for you. The rest of the Families would be looking to teach you a lesson. Imagine what most of them will think when they hear about the deceit you pulled this morning. After what I witnessed, you can be sure I’ll have eyes monitoring this place. You will not go against the Accords.”

          “Don’t you lecture me about the Accords, you psycho. I’ve been around just as long as they have and lived them. I taught them to you.”

          “And yet, you only follow them when they suit you. Just like your leader and his before him. But things are different now. They are gone, and your hold is slipping. I have enough pull now to ensure Accords are followed. And if you want to make a further spectacle of yourself, I’ll gladly show you I’m not that kid anymore that you ordered around. You saw what my boys can do when pushed. Try me.”

          Choi started to laugh, eyes shining in disbelief at the younger bossing him around. As you peered around Mr. Kim’s frame, you saw him go to say something to officer Chen, but couldn’t form the word. He raised his hand towards the white-haired man, but let it drop with a growl. Whatever look was set upon the elder made him rethink his next move. He settled for raising his hands in a surrender and jerking his head towards his companion to tell him they were leaving. It surprised you that he was giving up so easily after how he had acted towards you. You weren’t sure what Mr. Kim meant by accords and families, but it was more than obvious that it meant something to them. Glancing up at your protector, his face remained locked in the same stern and serious mask he had when he had appeared. His eyes, perfectly lined and accentuated with makeup that only made him more intriguing, followed the pair as they turned down the hall.

          But before they could get too far, Choi stopped. He turned enough to gaze at the two of you over his shoulder, the dark and manic gleam from that morning flashing like a warning sign. He chuckled before his teasing and taunting voice that had called out to Agust filled the hall like glass shattering. “Look at how far our little maniac has come. Really living up to the title of Mad Leader, aren’t you? He thinks he’s so big and strong that he can just order me around and act like a knight in shining armor to the weak. The Mad Leader’s trying so hard to put up a front, to hide who he is, to hide the other side of the looking glass. But lest he forget, I know things he wouldn’t want others to know. And I seem to recall,” Choi turned fully around and took a full stride back towards Mr. Kim, “you had an issue with places like this. You don’t enjoy being here. Are you falling down the rabbit hole? You even have an Alice this time it would seem. So tell me, Mad Leader, are the walls closing in on you yet? Are you feeling anxious?”

          You could feel Mr. Kim tense up at the name ‘Mad Leader’ each time Choi said it. He took a deep breath, trying to ground himself. He gave you a polite push away from him before fixing Choi with a glare that made officer Chen startle. You could almost feel the air change as he stepped up to be nose to nose with the thug.

          “Since you can’t seem to remember my name, asshole, let me spell it out for you. It’s RM, R to the M. And I’m a motherfucking monster. Keep pushing me. I dare you. You hurt one of my boys. You better pray that he makes it out of all this ok. Or you’ll see just how ‘mad’ I can get.”

          Chen seemed to realize that something bad was building as he took hold of his superior and pulled him away from RM, newly identified. Choi kept the taunting smile spread across his lips as he allowed Chen to lead him away. Before he got too far, he looked over at you and gave a nod, “We’ll be in touch, Little Girl.” And then he disappeared from the floor, leaving you in the presence of RM. You can’t say you had expected this person to belong to the voice on the other end of the phone, but it would seem like that was the theme of the day. The tall man took a few deep breaths and ran his hand through his white hair before turning back to you. The serious mask he had worn had slipped away and was more approachable. He straightened his clothes before returning to your side.

          “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said, “But he shouldn’t be back. He talks a good game but he knows when he’s out done. Did he hurt you?”

          You shook your head. “I can’t believe he got in. The hospital is on lock down.”

          “Well, he’s been around a while. He has his ways. Now that he’s gone, I was hoping you could help me. I’m looking for a nurse called Y/N.” You locked eyes with him and gave him a nod of affirmation. He gave you a smile, showing off a pair of dimples in his cheeks that made him much more innocent and sweeter than the man who had gone nose to nose with the monstrous thug. “That’s a coincidence. Nice to meet you. Can you show me where to go?”

          “Prove that you’re who you say you are,” you said, taking a step away from him. Despite that you were sure he was the one you had talked to, it seemed like nothing was safe. He looked at you for a moment, before coming to a conclusion. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone before letting his finger glide across the screen. A moment later, Agust phone sounded off in your pocket. He glanced over at you with a bemused look as you pulled the phone out and saw the screen lit up with a notification.

-          God of Destruction: It’s me.

          “Sorry,” you said, feeling embarrassed by your sudden suspicion, “but after that guy flashed a fake police badge at me, I just wanted to be sure. Thank you for coming and for helping me. Are you Agust’s brother or a friend?”

          RM’s eyes narrowed when he heard you say Agust and gave you a strange look. His eyes seemed to dance about you, as if he was trying to figure something out. But as quickly as it appeared, the look disappeared and he smiled again. “We usually call him Suga. Only people who don’t like him call him Agust. I don’t think he’d want you calling him that. Can we go see him now? We’ve been worried about him.” You nodded and motioned him to follow you back to the elevator. As you waited for the doors to reopen, he leaned over and whispered, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Hyung you had his phone.”

          “What? Does he have some embarrassing things on here,” you joked.

          “Maybe,” came the reply and heard RM chuckle as he allowed you to step into the elevator.

          You hit the button for the floor that they moved Agu- Suga to, the doors slid shut, and the lift jolted to a start. As the sound of the mechanisms filled the space, you caught a glimpse of the tall man flinch. It seemed odd, seeing as he had just faced off against the most frightening person you had ever seen. The taunting words he had said to RM before leaving came to mind, about not liking it in a hospital. It wasn’t uncommon for people to have bad experiences related to hospitals, so you tried to brush it off. Once you had made it to the secure floor, you led him down the hall. You explained that the floor was only accessible to a few people and how they had followed the directions as specified to the director. The entire time, RM listened very intently, eyes never leaving you. He was the picture of professionalism and sincerity. You swiped the two of you into the ward, and he held the door open for you as you led him down the hall to the room. As you neared the room, you wondered if you were going to survive the present of two very handsome men. Hopefully, the rest of his friends that you heard over the phone were somewhat average.

          As you both entered the room, RM came to a stop in the threshold of the door, his eyes staring at the bed. You could see the worry and panic that you had heard over the phone slip across his face. You reached out and touched his arm. He looked at you with an almost innocent gaze, like he was questioning if it was alright to get closer. You gave him a nod and he was beside his friend in a flash. He looked as if he was debating to reach out to Suga, as if he were made of glass, but settled for taking hold of his hand. RM let out a breath and looked relieved to have finally seen his friend. From your place at the edge of the room, you could see how much one meant to the other and all worries about them being as bad as Choi disappeared.

          “Is he going to be ok? What did they do to him,” RM asked, never taking his eyes off his companion.

          “Dr. Na took good care of him,” you said, reaching for the file at the end of the bed. “He was shot twice, once in the shoulder and on his left side. The gunshot wound on his side appeared to be at close range and the bullet went through. Thankfully, there wasn’t much damage done. The bullet was lodged in his shoulder, but Dr. Na was able to remove it and mend up some of the damage. We’ll know more when he wakes up, but he should have full range of motion after some rest. He, also, has some bruised ribs and a slight concussion. Along with bruising and defensive wounds pretty much everywhere. He, also, lost a lot of blood. He’s in the middle of a transfusion now. But he is responding well to everything and we believe he should be waking up soon. With enough care, patience, and support, he should make a full recovery in no time. Which is amazing; when I found him, I was worried with how much blood he had lost that he may have had a harder road to recovery.”

          RM flicked his eyes over to you. “You found him?”

          “They must not have told you. I was on my way to work when I heard the gunshots. I was the first to find him and get him to safety.”

          RM looked like he wanted to ask more questions, when a soft groan came from the bed and drew the attention. Suga took in a deep breath and his body shifted as if fighting to wake and identify the voices. After a tense moment, his body relaxed and his eyes opened slightly. From the edge of the bed, you could see the glazed and shiny effects of the medication still trying to hold him in the state of unconsciousness, and realized he may not fully be aware of what is happening. But you were sure the presence of RM had drawn him out enough to give them a sign that he was okay. RM called out to his hyung softly, drawing Suga’s attention as he gazed about the room.

          “Hyung, hey, can you hear me?”

          Suga’s eyes fully landed on RM. It seemed as if he was fighting his way to recognition before he gave a small, drugged smile back. “Joon,” his voice sounded exhausted and stained.

          RM laughed. “Yeah, Hyung, it’s me. You’re gonna be okay. You’re safe.”

          “Joonie, I think I’m dead. I saw an angel.”

          The whitehaired man reached out and ran his fingers, gently, through his friend’s hair. “No, Hyung, you’re only tired. That bastard messed you up but you’re gonna be alright now. Why don’t you go back to sleep? The boys and I will be here when you wake up.”

          “Oh,” Suga said, almost sounding disappointed as the drugs started to drag him back to oblivion, “too bad. It was a pretty angel. Prettier than Jiminie and Hyungie combined. But don’t tell them I said that.” And just as fast as he woke, Suga went silent and still again.

[dinner-djarin]

Next To You (Bucky x reader)

Just a little one shot I wrote after watching FATWS on repeat. (I tried to make it gender neutral but I may have missed something so I'm sorry if it's not!)

Rating: Mature

No use of Y/N

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Bucky is having nightmares, and you're there to comfort him. Based on the Julia Michaels song If You Need Me. (so if the ending sounds dumb go listen to the song you'll understand why lol)

Warnings: Fluff & angst I guess idk, kinda dark themes, because well it's Bucky. Just two people who have definitely been through some shit. Oh ya that reminds me swearing. Suggested that intercourse has happened but nothing descriptive. A little (a lot) about trauma but mostly about nightmares. If I missed something pls lemme know, I don't want anyone to feel triggered reading. But if you can watch the show and be fine, you'll probably be okay with this.

Also just letting you know if I put ~ its cause I switch the focus from Bucky to reader, but I'm not switching POV completely its all written in reader POV.

Every night brought pieces of the past. He never knew which memory would be dragged to the surface once he let his subconscious take over - clawing and scrapping against the walls he put up, begging to be let out; to be confronted.

Some nights were worse than others of course.

He wasn’t sure how he was ever going to out run the monsters of his past. For a while he just stopped sleeping. It may not have been a permanent fix, but he thought some relief was better than none at all. He used to go days, even weeks, without sleep during the war, so he figured it might be the best way to silence the past.

Dr. Raynor, however, caught on quick.

A lot of her methods seemed like bullshit to Bucky. He could tell she was genuinely trying to help him, but he doubted anything she had anything to offer him that would prove to be effective.

But at the end of the day she was definitely no fool. He had a tough time lying to her. She didn’t take anyone's crap, and that might have been the only reason he trusted her, even a little. It may have been the only reason he actually gave it a sincere try (besides the fact he’d be arrested if he didn’t).

So he probably shouldn’t have been surprised when she caught on to his sleep strike. In fact she called him out on it only three days in. He thought he’d get longer than that. Even so, he was almost relieved. After only 72 hours he already felt the nightmares slowly creeping into the day. Every time a door slammed or a car horn blared his body tensed. Every time he turned a corner he’d reach for a knife he no longer carried. So maybe it was better to let his past haunt his nightmares. That way he’d be alone when the memories took over. That way he wouldn’t hurt anyone else.

But he made a mistake. He did what he told himself he could never do. He let you get too close.

Falling asleep in your arms felt better than any therapy session he could ever imagine. It was the first time in forever he could remember what it was like to be his younger self. The version of him that marvelled at the idea of flying cars; who thought he could save the world by enlisting. The dreamy eyed boy who was hopeful for the future, who thought he had a future.

Lying next to you made him feel in control, like his problems didn’t matter. He was there to keep you safe, and warm, and comfortable. He never thought he’d feel like that with anyone. He didn’t think he was allowed.

You didn’t question his metal arm for starters. When Bucky took off his jacket, after the hundredth time you insisted - “It’s like 100 degrees in here Bucky, please take it off, you’re gonna melt” - he thought he’d instantly regret it. But you simply looked at it with wonder for only a moment, before returning your eyes up to his own. Staring back at you, he saw the wheels in your brain click into place. He could almost hear your thoughts as you decided what your next move would be.

In the blink of his eyes you tore your shirt off and stood completely still in front of him. For a moment his emotions were mixed, and he worried where your sudden advancement came from, but then he saw it. A thick white mark slashed across your torso.

You took only one step forward before speaking. “It’s not exactly… I know it’s not the same thing at all. But the scars - the marks we carry - they’ll be with us forever, whether we like it or not. Even if they remind us of the worst pieces of ourselves, or the worst moments of our lives, it reminds us that we can move forward. And it reminds me that there’s something to move forward to. I don’t know…it doesn’t really make any sense but somehow it’s almost comforting.  To know that something will always be with us, till the end”

His mouth was on yours in an instant.

He had been hesitant to let anyone in. After coming back - after going through everything he’d been through - he felt like damaged goods. He worried that the minute he let himself be happy, everything would come crashing down again, and he had good reason to believe it. It just kept happening over and over. It seemed like every time he found even a small amount of peace, the battle made its way back to him.

But when he found you, when he felt you, he felt peace. The softness of your skin, the gentle wave of your hair, the light scrape of your fingernails against his back and chest, your quiet moans muffled by his own mouth on yours. Being with you made the horrors of his past melt away. Even when you clamped down around him and bit into his shoulder muscle, even when he knew you’d left marks all over his skin. Knowing they came from you made all the difference. They didn’t remind him of the wars he fought, or lives he took, or the atrocities he committed. The sting of your nails and teeth weren’t pains from his past, they were reminders of his present, of the possibility of a life he could have. With you.

But in the end he knew that it was all wishful thinking. He knew he wasn’t cut out for that type of future. He knew you deserved better.

So he decided to let you off easy, to disappear from your life, leaving your shared experience to the confines of your bedroom. A memory, nothing more. He knew he’d have to sneak away once you fell asleep, because that way it might not feel real. Everything that happened between you might disappear with him.

But then he fucked up.

He was waiting for your breath to even out, a sign he would take to mean you had fallen asleep, but after listening to the air rush out of your body, and watching your bare chest rise and fall, your hypnotic essence overpowered his will, and he fell asleep alongside you.

Only he wasn’t asleep for long.

Eventually the past caught up, as it always had a way of doing. Images, and sounds, and smells all came flooding back to his uninhibited brain - sleep made him an easy target. He was vulnerable to every torment he caused, and every mission he was forced to carry out. Tonight was no exception. His brain managed to sift through every wall he thought he had up, and trudge yet another painful memory to the surface. The image of himself taking life after life, cruelly and viciously. There was no remorse, no stopping him. He saw every crime lord and politician he was made to terminate. Until his brain moved away to a new idea. The image of a young woman. Innocent and pure. But in the way of his mission. The Winter Soldier spared none.

He woke up in a blind panic. His surroundings were unfamiliar. Something was wrong. Was he being held captive or-

~

“Hey,” you made yourself known to him, and he twisted his head back to see you sit up beside him. You were quiet, and a worried expression blanketed your face.

Is he angry, you thought for a moment? No. Your brain was tired, and it was slow to process. Not angry, scared.

You knew from the minute you saw his arm that there was more going on. You already had some suspicions, nevertheless you expected there to be something like this.

For a moment, the two of you stared at each other in silence. You watched him regain his breath, and you carefully shifted your legs to sit crossed underneath you.

His steel blue eyes cut through the darkness, pinning you down. You wondered what was going on in his mind, what he might be doing to regain his grip on reality. You knew this moment too well. The quiet. The darkness. The fear. Not sure of how to move forward.

You were scared too, but not of him - more like you were scared for him. You knew he must be going through something, and you wanted to be there to help, but you also knew that was easier said than done. “Being there to help” was a nice concept, but in reality - well things were generally more complicated. You didn’t know if it’d be alright to approach him, mainly because you were unsure of your role in all this. Were you really someone he wanted around when he was so obviously vulnerable? You’d never seen him so raw and exposed, like a wound you wished you could tend to, while also fearing that your interference could make things worse.

You knew he wasn’t going to ask for your help, you could see he wasn’t that kind of man, but maybe if you made the first step, and let him choose - maybe he’d let you in. So, you held out your hand and waited. After a moment, you saw him move, only slightly though. His eyes darted down towards your hand and he subtly lifted his fingers off the bed. But it only lasted a second. He froze again, hand hovering near yours, and that’s when you realized he had been reaching for you with his left hand. You had been wary to touch it before, you thought it was probably a sensitive subject. Something about the idea of touching his metal arm seemed more personal, if that was possible. Like only the most trusted people in his life might be allowed to… and maybe not even then.

You felt your own eyes drop to your lap, an almost nervous energy now emanating in the space between you. But just before you could drop your hand too, his fingers hesitantly entwine with yours.

You shot your eyes up to see his right hand grazing the palm of your left. As your gaze slowly elevated, you found your way to meet his own eyes, only to notice the very sudden change in them. Whatever fear or darkness hid their before had now melted away. You couldn’t place it, but whatever emotion he now held sent a chill from your core to your fingertips. A lump in your throat formed and for a moment, you thought you might never be able to breath again. The look in his eyes was almost soft, but with a hint of yearning. Fire was blazing through every nerve in your body, while a chill kissed your skin, making every hair stand on edge.

Feeling outrageously brave, you took your free hand up to his jaw and held him there, gently swiping your thumb over his cheek, and allowing your fingers to reach slightly past his hairline and to the back of his neck. You wondered if he could feel the raging storm of your emotions through your touch.

“You okay?” you managed to whisper to him.

“Nothing I haven’t dealt with before” his answer pierced your ears with a hard tone, refusing to let any vulnerability resonate in his voice.

You shake your head at him, wishing he wouldn’t play pretend. “Okay then,” you mumble, letting your hand drop from his face. But as it fell, Bucky was quick to grab it, and hold it with a gentle squeeze. When you looked at him again, you knew he meant it as a reassurance, trying to tell you that he was okay.

~

He couldn’t handle the way you looked at him. Like you could see every thought in his head. A knowing gleam in your eyes told him that you didn’t believe him, and you’d be right not to. He wasn’t okay. He never really was. There was so much darkness surrounding him, poisoning every inch of his life. But you. Your touch was gentle and your voice was kind, and even though he had just seen your scar, he couldn’t help but think your world must have been so much brighter than his own. Looking in your eyes, he almost wished he’d never met you. He was so afraid that his pain might infect you too, the only good thing he had left. He wouldn’t ever be able to forgive himself if he let that happen; if he let his past ruin your future.

He wanted to leave, he needed to get out, before any of that could happen.

He slid off the bed quickly, and made his way to grab his clothes, but before he could you grabbed his hand - his left hand.

“Please Bucky don’t.” was all you could say. But the way your voice broke, on the verge of tears, fear of being rejected, of being left alone in the dark by the only man you ever wanted to let in - it was enough to stop his heart. He stood there, frozen from your touch. You kept his hand in yours, and for a second you worried it was too much. You worried you betrayed whatever trust you had built with him. Just holding his bare metal hand felt more violating and revealing than the fact that both of you remained completely naked. But you didn’t want to pull away. You didn’t want him to think you were afraid of him, afraid of the fact his hand could pulverize yours in a second - because you weren’t. You’d felt his touch. You knew how gentle and caring he could be. And you wanted him to see it too. That he wasn’t defined by his worst fears.

You pulled your body towards him, kneeling at the edge and facing him, “You don’t have to leave.” you spoke softly, as if he might be spooked and run off if you were any louder. “You don’t have to push everyone away. Please don’t push me away… I-”

Before you could finish, he was crashing into you. His tongue invading your mouth, like he was trying to soak up your unsaid words. His hands held your waist in place against his, steady and strong, but there was still resistance in his fingers; a hesitance to use too much force with you. You could feel how he feared he might hurt you.

Slowly you leaned back, feathering your fingers over his shoulders to guide him with you, and when he hovered over you, you let them slide into his hair, grabbing what you could and leading his head down…

~~~~

You lay there in the dark with your head on his chest, listening to his steady heart, feeling the crisp sting of metal graze your back. And even though you knew it was ridiculous, all you could think about was how you wanted to keep him safe. The man was stronger than any other human being, and probably thought you were fragile and helpless, and needed his protection more than anything. But still, you wanted him to be okay. You wanted him to know he could be safe.

“I’ll fight them for you.” you whimper quietly, suddenly worried that Bucky may have already fallen back to sleep.

“Huh? Who- what do you mean?” his words stuttered and tripped over his tongue. His half sleeping brain was suddenly running a mile a minute trying to decipher your statement. Who were you fighting? Why would you need to fight them for him? Surely he was more capable of fighting anyone off. He should be protecting you-

“The monsters” you said a little louder. The words feel childish and awkward in your mouth, and once you said them, you wished to take them back. But you decided to push forward, “if you want me to… if you need me… I’m here”

[ranger-rai]

Alright guys, A lot has happened in the last couple of days so let me catch you all up.

So we have been getting some reports of a "Swarm" of pokemon causing some problems around Sinnoh.

We looked into it and after a couple nights of steakouts, we discovered that our "Swarm" was actually a Purrloin who knew Double Team.

Apparently it had been stealing from alot of small homes, mainly trash.

This Purrloin was incredibly aggressive and seemingly protective of something.

We tracked it down to to a small den just outside of Solaceon Town.

Well we were expecting it to be taking care of its kittens, however we did not expect what we actually found.

-------

We found this Purrloin trying to feed the scraps it stole to a Lycanroc.

The Purrloin was very protective and tried attacking us.

It was surprisingly tough for a single Purrloin, however we managed to restrain it.

However we found it weird that this Dusk Lycanroc wasn't moving or reacting much.

I went and checked it out when it was clear and we found something really unsettling.

This Lycanroc has some spine problems, I know this because it struggled to get up but when it did, it got on four legs, then two legs.

Now a Dusk form Lycanroc is made to be on all four like this

However its back is arced upwards like it's slouching.

It's also shaking a bit, and is covered in scratches and bruises.

Every time I try and get close the Purrloin starts thrashing and clawing.

We let it go and it made its way back to the Lycanroc, and started to guard it again.

We knew this was bad, so we made a plan to try and help them.

-------

We managed to get Purrloin secure once again and Lycanroc into a cage very carefully, but we kept them close together as we transported them.

Lycanroc was surprisingly docile and just seemed tired and dehydrated, so we made sure it got plenty of water.

Purrloin was on edge the whole time, making sure that Lycanroc ate, and keeping us at a distance, but I caught her eating from time to time.

We had to hold her down once again, but she used her double team to evade us for a bit. She really knows how to use that move.

Eventually we restrained her when we got to the Ranger Base and we had a medical technician look at Lycanroc.

They said that it had some severe spine misalignment, not from an injury but from constant strain.

At some point during our conversation, we noticed Lycanroc trying to get up, and "stand up" again on two legs, like a Midnight Form Lycanroc.

It was really odd to see, and the tech helped put it him back onto two legs, but it almost seemed scared to be touched when in that position.

This wasn't battle damage, this was intentional trauma.

Purrloin was definitely upset, and managed to get free and started scratching at the technician.

Thankfully I restrained her so the technician could work more, and I calmed her down a bit.

The tech said that they would need to run some tests on the Lycanroc to see if they could fix his back, so we had to let him stay for a while.

However we couldn't leave Purrloin there in case she tried to attack the tech again.

-------

I didn't want to seperate them, but I needed her to be somewhere safe while the technician did his job, so I got her into a carrier and took her with me on my rounds.

She was hissing and scratching for a while but I sat and talked with her for a bit and she seemed pretty alert but much calmer.

Most of the day was just a usual trip around my areas, however I started finding alot more litter in some areas.

There was alot of trash on the ground in a park area just outside Veilstone City, and normally I would pick it all up, but there was alot, almost like there was a carnival recently there, but there was nothing planned as far as I knew.

I also noticed Purrloin getting really upset and hissing a lot.

I looked around the trash and found a bunch of flyers for some kind of venue.

"Mister E's Enigmas"

The flyer listed a sort of sideshow of oddities.

Things like:

The Fire Breathing Treecko Brothers, Dancing Donphan, and their star attraction-

"The Were-Lycanroc" a pokemon that could switch between forms.

That's when it hit me, and I knew someone was going to get in trouble.

-------

After bringing this information to the technician and my boss Jo. Me and my Ranger Team decided to attend the show incognito to see if we were right, and boy we wish we weren't.

We attended what could only be described as a shifty, pop up carnival.

There were a few games, a couple food trucks, and a large tent that held the "main events".

There were some "exotic" holding cages that people could interact with like a small cage for two Emolga to live in, they could barely get into the air before smacking into the roof.

There was a small area that had a large heat lamp for "desert" pokemon, but it was mostly a browning Cacnea, a Trapinch with barely enough sand to cover its body, and a Salandit which didn't belong there.

There were others but we already knew what those cages would be like as well.

The show kn the main stage was getting ready to start, so we decided to check it out.

"Mister E" took to the stage, he had your typical big top attire, top hat, long tails, but he had a stripey pattern that made him look like a hypnotic wheel.

He introduced his first act, which was "The Fire Breathing Treecko Brothers". I was worried.

Now Treecko is a Grass Type, and it only learns one grass type move naturally: Sunny Day.

They also don't have any natural immunities to fire types, so this didn't make much sense for normal Treecko.

From what I saw in the act, they learned how to eat fire and pretend they were using flamethrower. However you could tell they didn't like it. Treecko are calm and collected pokemon, but those two looked stressed out, and they were molting a bit in certain areas near their face and tails, probably due to the flames and stress.

After them was the "Dancing Donphan". Donphan is a very heavy pokemon, and it's main skill is rolling like a tire.

This Donphan looked much lighter, like it hadn't been fed its regular amount to keep it healthy.

Minnie also mounted out that the music playing during the dance had a weird sound mixed in. Basically, whenever we heard the sound, Donphan would do a move like jumping or rolling over. The sound was similar to a sort of crash, but it was clear that it was a sound that Donphan was afraid of.

Now came the finale, "The Were-Lycanroc" however that part didn't happen, and instead they brought out some clowns and the Treecko Brothers again.

Thats when we knew what was really happening.

-----

I went back to check on Lycanroc who was sleeping like a log with Purrloin right next to it.

I didn't remember any cages with any feline pokemon in them so maybe it was just a wild Purrloin, but I wasn't going to disturb them to find out.

The doctor told me that it might take some time, but Lycanroc's spine and back legs were forced to move in positions they weren't supposed to for so long, that it would take some time, therapy and equipment to help it.

If there was a chance to help this poor pokemon I knew we would take it, but we also couldn't leave all of those other pokemon to suffer.

We were about to get really busy at the Ranger Base.

------

The next day, Me and Minnie went incognito one more time and we had to sit through that horrible show once more.

We had Skip with us, helping to send info and let us know of any devices or intercept their communications.

Turns out we didn't know that was happening because they had police scanners to avoid getting caught and they had wireless security cameras inside the tent.

They were prepared, but so were we.

My whole team was on board, both Humans and Pokemon.

We had a plan that began with Kuriboh knocking out some generators by sneaking around and unplugging everything he could.

That caused some confusion for a bit while we got in place. While they went to secure their "precious cargo", we made our presence known.

Eddie was outside the tent, dealing with the muscle and moving crews, his Bewear is very strong and pretty quick too, so we didn't need to worry about them much.

However we still had Mister E.

I told Bliss to keep an eye on him so we wouldn't loose him in the panic, but we had a delay as some of the Treeco Bros fire got out of control and some of the tent started to catch on fire.

Minnie and her Cloyster were immediately ready to deal with it and she was ready to help the Treeco Bros as well.

Bliss was able to keep tabs on the ringleader who was trying to get into his van and split, most likely with his cash.

However, Sylvester doesn't like people who mistreat pokemon, and Jo's Tangrowth has some really strong vines. Strong enough to rip car doors off hinges.

------

We had caught this terrible man, and we discovered he had been doing this for a couple of years, just now making his way through Sinnoh, and he was looking for some pokemon to add to his show.

We also watched some of his security tapes and we learned that "Were-Lycanroc" was really just a Dusk Form that he forced to stand up and slouch over by constantly whipping with a flexible stick. And with the assistance of red lights, smoke machines and music, hey could make people think it was changing forms.

We also learned that Purrloin was tossed into Lycanroc's cage, possibly as a "play thing" but I guess he actually made a friend either her and hiding her from Mister E, and she had been caring for him as well, stealing food and causing trouble for them whenever she could.

Needless to say, we were able to get them arrested, and we are now in the process of evaluating some of these pokemon, but we may have too many to deal with here.

We might need to reach out for some help.

------

In the case of Lycanroc and Purrloin, they are comfortably resting in holding, and Lycanroc is be getting fitted for some equipment to help its spine and legs heal.

I'll be checking on them soon, but for now me and my team need to rest after this long day.

[chilling-seavey]

Qui Totum Vult Totum Perdit (d.s.) - 6

A/N Out in the open

Warnings: This story is centered around a murder so there will be graphic descriptions of blood, death/manslaughter, dealing with corpses, possible domestic abuse (physical/verbal), crime/covering up a crime, shock/grief, and other possibly heavy or triggering topics. Please read at your own discretion.

You may think you understand stress, dear reader, but I can assure you that you do not. You do not understand stress unless you have driven around the city in broad daylight with a body in the trunk of your car. There was only so much guilt that a hat and sunglasses could cover.

“We should stop by the bank…take out some cash before we leave the state.” I suggested, my hands tightening on the wheel slightly as I drove. 

Jonah nodded and reached into the backseat to pulled over his bag to shuffle through it. It was always full of random junk from snacks and a water bottle to notebooks and his wallet and phone charger. He carried his life in that bag. He pulled out said charger and helped himself to the port in my car to plug in his phone.

“Jo.” I said.

“Yeah?”

“Why aren’t you…freaked out?” I asked.

“I am.” Jonah answered as he dropped his bag in the backseat again. “My best friend called me out of the single most important studio session of our careers to get me involved in the murder of his wife. Who wouldn’t be freaked out? Why aren’t you freaked out?”

I shifted my hands on the wheel nervously, “I-I am freaked out. I just…I don’t know what happened at all and I think I’m just in shock.”

“Do you think you killed her?” Jonah asked quietly.

I could sense the nervousness in his voice as if he was scared of me too. I honestly didn’t know what to tell him…I didn’t know what to tell myself to reassure either of us. I loved Avalon. I loved her with almost everything in me. So what would be my motive to kill her? Would our argument about my job be enough to enrage my conscious to see nothing but red?

I could only answer my best friend truthfully. After all, he risked so much to come help me.

“I don’t know.”

Jonah nodded stiffly. He probably expected that reply from me. I had been saying it all morning.

“Well, we’ll go to the bank and check out this J person at the Lincoln motel and see where that takes us.”

Jonah and I were by no means celebrities, but our jobs certainly put us in the spotlight more often than we might have liked – especially in a situation as we found ourselves in with Avalon. Owning one of the top record companies in the country was not an easy feat and the publicity that came with it often made going out in public a bit of a hassle. I couldn’t tell you how many times Avalon and I were interrupted on a date for someone to want to talk to me, slide me a demo, or – for some reason – even get my autograph. Even Hollywood Fix seemed to have a soft spot for Jonah and me.

Avalon hated paparazzi. She hated paparazzi more than any other aspect of my job honestly. They made her nervous and claustrophobic and she always felt completely tense the entire night we were out if the paparazzi greeted us at the restaurant. Seemed like no matter the country they followed us everywhere. Even on our honeymoon we couldn’t catch a break.

“It’s just a few cameras.”

Avalon glanced out the tinted window of the rental car to the sidewalk that was swarming with paparazzi and their crew, waiting for us to step out.

“That’s hardly a few.” she mumbled.

“Just keep your head down and don’t say anything.”

“I can’t just ignore them.” she turned to me, “That’s rude.”

“Well what do you want me to say?” I sighed.

“I want to have a date with my husband that’s not riddled with strangers and their cameras.”

“Sorry to be such a burden in your life, honey.”

“Oh, Daniel, stop that.” she scoffed, shaking her head as she turned back out the window.

I stared at her a moment, her bottom lip held between her teeth and her arms crossed over the chest of the tight tropical dress she wore. I slid my hand over her thigh and gave it a squeeze to get her looking back at me. Her brown eyes were shimmering in anxious tears.

“I want to go back to the hotel.”

“No, no. It’s fine. I promise. I’ll be right beside you.” I assured her, capturing her chin in my hand to pull her lips onto mine for a quick kiss before reaching for the handle on the car door, “Come on.”

Thinking about these things only made me realize how much we actually argued. Maybe how dense I was to her feelings. Did that make me selfish? Well, I’m no perfect man. I can only push that fact on you so much, dear reader.

Jonah and I stared up at the brick bank building in front of us. The few steps to the ATM seemed like a mile. I took out my wallet from my jeans pocket and flicked through it to pull out my credit card with a sigh.

“5k?” Jonah suggested.

“Yeah, sounds about right.” I mumbled, adjusting the cap on my head as I scanned the curb we were parked in front of. “I’ll be quick.”

I stepped out of my car before I could psych myself up anymore and hopped up onto the sidewalk towards the ATM outside the building. I stood close to the machine, head down, and slid my credit card into the slot. I typed in my pin number with shaking hands and waited for my withdrawal request to go through while I tried not to think about what I was hiding in my car just behind me.

The sun beat down on the back of my neck as I hunched over the ATM, trying my best to keep myself in the shadows. It felt like ages had gone by until the machine slid out a stack of one-hundred-dollar bills and returned my card. I kept my head down as I turned on my heel and crashed right into a man walking towards the front doors of the bank.

He must have apologized – I remember him saying something to me – but the fear that our sudden collision injected into my veins had me bowing my head and rushing off to my car a few feet away without a word. I was breathless when I closed the door behind me as if I had just hiked up the Hills and back and I tried to play it off as I flicked through the bills in my hand.

I held out half the stack to Jonah so we could split the total just in-case anything happened to either of us, “Twenty-five-hundred for you. Twenty-five-hundred for me.”

“Great.” Jonah reached into the backseat and grabbed his wallet from his back to tuck the cash safely away and I slipped my half into the glove box of the car.

We had to keep moving so I pulled out of the bank parking lot back towards the main roads while Jonah brought up the address of the motel in the GPS and set the route navigation on. We drove in silence, not even bothering to put on any music, and he scrolled through his phone as we hit some traffic on the freeway.

“The place looks musty as hell.” Jonah said casually.

I glanced over to his phone screen to see him checking out the Expedia site.

“It’s like 1 out of 5 stars. Reviews say bed bugs, broken furniture, unfriendly staff. Why would Avalon want to go within five blocks of this place yet alone meet someone inside?” Jonah mumbled and he set his phone back down to charge.

“Yeah, well, I don’t think the interior design what she was particularly worried about.” I muttered as I switched lanes towards the exit for Pasadena. I couldn’t help but let the jealously come out through my tone of voice.

My phone rang through the Tesla speakers and I glanced at the screen to see Christian calling me for at least the third time since the night before. I declined it.

“Fuck. Why does he need to know where I am so badly?” I grumbled.

“Maybe you should just tell him you’re busy at work.” Jonah suggested.

“It’s none of his business where I am.”

“It’ll get him off your back.”

“It’ll get him asking questions. We really don’t need that.” I sighed tiredly.

Jonah kept quiet.

The Lincoln Motel was right off the freeway and was so closely built under the underpass that it could have passed as a troll under the bridge. Honestly, it sort of felt like that same sort of sense as I pulled into the cracked parking lot of the nearly crumbling orange stucco two-storey building. My white Tesla looked like a diamond in the rough beside the motel and I would have been worried about it being stolen if it wasn’t for the body in the trunk already depreciating the car.

I parked in the spot closest to the building and Jonah and I took a moment to prepare ourselves for not only the person we were going to meet uninvited but also to face the decrepit building firsthand. I leaned forward to see up to the second storey balcony – all the rooms being outdoor entry – and located number nineteen. This certainly was not what I had planned when I woke up that morning.

Detective Team: @jonahlovescoffee​ @randomlimelightxxx​ @stuffofseaveyy​ @hopinglimelight​ @tempus-ut-luceant​ @br4nd1s​ @xkelsev​ @hiya-its-amber​ @sexyseavey15​

[lizbotw]

SEVEN MINUTES IN HELL: MIDORIYA’S ROUTE - SENSES

YOU’VE CHOSEN A WINDING PATH: TURN BACK NOW (MASTERLIST)

pairing: midoriya x reader

summary: It’s probably best to bring a flashlight and watch where you’re going in dusty old cellars.

a/n: the fourth route of the halloween collab with deku and the prompt “tangled traps” ♡ also the title may or may not have been inspired by spiderman’s spidey sense

word count: 2k

“I think you should go first.”

“Wha- why?! You’re the one who got dared.”

You stood at the top of the basement stairs next to Midoriya, the darkness below seemingly endless. Leave it up to him to get dared to go explore the lower level of the cabin you had specifically avoided because it gave everyone the creeps. And to make matters worse, you had been roped into this as well because he had been graciously allowed to choose one other person to go with him. Why he chose you of all people was a mystery, and although any other time being alone with him would make your heart pound in happiness, right now it was pounding for an entirely different reason—one that may or may be related to your imagination running wild at what lay just a few steps below you.

You heard the sharp intake of breath and when you looked at him, you found that he was standing straighter now, a determined look in his eye. “Let’s just get this over with. It shouldn’t take long.” And then he was descending the steps, careful with where he placed his feet to avoid slipping. You followed in suit, grip tight against the worn out railing you could barely see.

You heard the heavy thud of a footstep. “I think I reached the bottom,” he called up and you could only vaguely tell where he was.

It wasn’t long until you reached the final step as well and then stepped out onto the floor of the basement. There was an earthy smell from the space being dug so far underground, but there was also a faint musk of all things ancient—seems like no one had been down here in a long time. Reaching your hand out in front of you, you realized you couldn't even see it.

“Midoriya.”

“Yeah?”

“Hold on, I’m going to touch you. Don’t scream.”

You couldn’t see his expression, but you knew there was a look of indignation from his tone alone. “You say that like I was planning to!”

“Shut up, I’m just trying to save us the embarrassment of the others thinking we’re actually scared.” You blindly groped in front of you, trying to place where he was based on his voice. You hand made contact with fabric and you could feel the warmth underneath. You patted the area, confused, trying to place what it was. “What am I touching?”

“Uh… that’s my shoulder.”

With that in mind, you slowly felt your way down his arm until your touch brushed against his hand and you hooked your fingers with his.

“What are you-”

“So we don’t get lost.”

That seemed like explanation enough for him and he adjusted his grip to hold your hand tighter, pads of his fingers pressing against the back of it.

“So… what now?”

“Kaminari did say we had to find something down here and bring it back as proof.”

“But how? I can’t see anything. We should just go back up.”

You felt a tug on your hand and realized that he was walking ahead, pulling you along with him. “There has to be some sort of light source down here. Hopefully we’ll eventually find a light switch or something.”

You followed him, praying that you didn’t trip over something. “I don’t think this place has electricity. We really are stuck out here.” You felt something brush against your leg and you jolted, clamping down on your lip so you didn’t yelp—what the fuck was that? There was the clatter of metal falling next to your feet—something small—and an idea filled your mind. Maybe you could just grab this mysterious object and book it upstairs? That should satisfy the conditions of the dare, right?

You shook your hand out of Midoriya's, but then you felt him reaching back to grab a hold of your fingers, making a noise of confusion. You shook them off one more and spoke before he could do it again. “Hold on. I think I found something.” You crouched down and hesitantly reached out to skim your fingers along the floor, feeling the dust that had gathered from no one being down here in who knows how long—gross. Just as you were growing frustrated, you felt something cool press against you. It was solid and as you fumbled to grab a hold of it, you felt your thumb brush against a button. You clicked it and light flooded the space in front of you. A flashlight. You shone the light around you, seeing now that stacks of boxes filled the room, along with old newspapers strewn about the floor. In the far corners of the room, large, draping cobwebs had formed, although you had been lucky enough to avoid them so far, not having ventured very far into the room just yet.

There was a dull ache in your cheeks and you realized you had been beaming—no pun intended—at the discovery. Finally, something was going right around here. You had to show Midoriya. Your face fell. Speaking of which, where was he? You remembered the faint footsteps in the back of your mind when you had let go of his hand. Had he gone up ahead?

You rose from your crouched position to scan the room again. No sign of him. Where in the world—

“Hey, (Y/N), I think I found something! Come look, it’s-” He cut himself off with a strangled noise. There were heavy steps as though he were stumbling over his own two feet and you heard muted “mmphs” and “hmphs” as though he couldn’t open his mouth to yell properly. There was a crash that made you jump and then a groan of pain. You swung the light to shine in his general direction and found him collapsed on a knocked down pile of boxes, silver spider webs that glimmered under the light draped over him.

He held a hand up to shield his eyes from the light and you shone it a little off from him so it wasn’t as direct. Actually seeing what was on him now with the illumination had Midoriya gasping in surprise and quickly clawing the strings off of him, especially trying to tug the ones on his face off.

You fought back a laugh, the beginnings of a smirk tugging at your lips. “I was about to tell you to watch out for those.”

He had succeeded in getting most of them off and was spitting out the remnants that clung near his mouth, brow furrowed. “Yeah, but you didn’t.” Midoriya tried to get up but fell back onto the boxes with a clatter, so you walked over and offered a hand to pull him up. He gratefully took it and was on his feet seconds later. “Thanks.” His small smile morphed back into disgust right away though and he stuck out his tongue. “I think some of it got in my mouth.”

“What do they taste like?”

“The spider webs?”

“Yeah.”

Midoriya peeled off a section of web that clung to his arm and held it up to you. “Wanna try?”

“Ew, no!” you shrieked and ducked away out of his reach while he was chuckling at your expense. The laughter eventually died down though as the flashlight began to flicker. You groaned. “Come on, I just found this. Don’t die on me, you stupid thing.” You knocked it against your hand and that seemed to fix the problem momentarily, the light shinning brilliantly one again.

Midoriya was rubbing his head now, wiping his mouth with the back of his other hand. “I think there’s a light switch somewhere over there. I felt it poke my side when I ran into the wall before.”

You used the flashlight to search against the worn-out wall, its white paint peeling in long strips, and found the switch he was talking about. It looked to have been fully white at one point too, but right now it was slightly yellowed and showing clear signs of age. You flipped it and the room instantly filled with light. Both of you shielded your eyes from the glare, but you forced your eyes open a few seconds later, now taking in the entire space.

It wasn’t exactly clean, but it wasn’t as messy as you’d thought. There was a thin coating of dust on everything. A bookshelf was against the opposite wall and adjacent was a wooden desk. Its surface was cluttered and overflowing with papers, however, you noticed something against the back corner that had you squinting to get a closer look.

“Is that-”

It seemed like Midoriya had noticed it too and a thumping filled your heart as he carefully walked over to it, making sure to avoid the hanging spider webs now. A light green antique telephone was what both of you had your attention on and you stayed still as he picked up the receiver and pressed it to his ear to hear if it worked. There was a beat of silence, and then— “There’s static.” He looked you dead in the eye, still holding the phone to his ear, and a boyish grin spreading across his face. “It works.”

Your eyes widened. “No way.” You quickly stalked over him and grabbed the phone from his hand, pressing it against your own face. The crisp sputter of static filled your ears—an active line. “...you’re right.”

“We should tell the others!” He turned to go bounding up the stairs, but you grabbed a hold of his arm to stop him.

“Wait, let’s try it first. What’s U.A.’s number?”

Midoriya wasted no time in reciting the digits to you and you spun the dial on the rotary in accordance, the wheel moving smoothly despite its apparent age. He paused when he was done. “How’d you know I had it memorized?”

“If anyone has it memorized, it’s you, Midoriya,” you replied offhandedly as you pressed the phone again to your ear with a baited breath. You didn’t want to tell the others just yet and get their hopes up for nothing if the phone really couldn’t work, and although they would be none the wiser if you didn’t tell them anything at all, now your hopes were up at just finding this. Please work, please work, please work— you heard ringing on the other side and almost dropped the phone. “Holy fuck.”

“What? What is it?” Midoriya was frantic now, your sudden panic sending him into a tizzy.

“It works, Midoriya. It’s ringing.” You were full on smiling now and in the middle of your euphoria, tucked the phone between your shoulder and ear to free up your hands and grabbed him by the front of his shirt to pull him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around you with no resistance, pulling you tight to his chest, and you two were practically jumping with glee at the discovery, so much so that neither of you had the chance to get flustered at the sudden proximity and the way you were pressed together (although the thought may or may not come back to haunt the both of you as you lay in bed the next night).

Midoriya finally pulled away, holding you at arms length, grinning so widely you were sure it was going to split his face in two. “I’m going to tell the others, okay?” You frantically nodded in reply, too happy to form words, your own lips pressed into a hard smile. You watched as he took the old rickety steps two at a time and disappeared through the doorway at the top where you two had stood minutes before just as you heard someone answer the phone and the sound of U.A.’s receptionist’s—no doubt working late at the office—sleepy “Hello?” filled your ears.

In the midst of your excitement, no one thought to mention how odd it was that a long abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere had enough running electricity to power a phone in the first place.

YOU’VE REACHED THE END OF THE PATH: RETURN TO THE CABIN

[littlemissagrafina]

A Sunflower's Bloom

Third and final part in the Remember the sun, little flower series for @angxlsgrxce

Read on AO3

Tony walked into the lab only to be greeted by Peter who was sitting on top of his work bench in a position that could only be described as pretzel meets spaghetti. 

Peter was lying on his side with his back against the wall that his bench was propped against, his one leg was stretched behind him, the other bent over it with his foot flat against the table top.

It was then that Tony noticed his one arm was looped under his bent leg and he was using his other arm to prop his head slightly as he carefully stirred up a new batch of his web formula.

Overall, it was quite normal for Peter with his strange spider flexibility but just looking at him made Tony's back ache.

"Peter, buddy, spider of my life, are you ever going to sit in a slightly normal position?" Tony couldn't help but tease the teenager, letting out a laugh at Peter's fake look of betrayal.

"Mr. Stark! That would imply that I am a regular person and we both know that I could never be normal. Besides, it's comfortable." With that he went back to his formula, looking at it with a slight furrow to his brows that made his nose scrunch up in a way that Tony couldn't help but think resembled a bunny rabbit.

Tony walked over to his own work bench and wheeled his chair back to Peter's. Sitting down in front of the bench, he picked up a pen and poked at Peter's leg until he looked up at the older man.

"What's got you frowning at your webs like that?"

With a huff, Peter unfolded himself and sat up on the edge of the bench with his legs hanging off the edge. He handed Tony the bodum beaker and picked up his bag, fishing his notebook out from it before putting it back on the floor. He flipped to a page near the back and handed that to Tony as well.

"I'm trying to find a way to make it stop clogging up the compartment when I have to refill it but I can't figure out what I need to do without changing the components of the fluid I already have. Everything that I've come up with so far makes it too watery." He explained as Tony looked over his workings on the paper.

Tony hummed to let him know that he was listening. He was quiet for a while before speaking again. "Okay, a fair warning, Pete. I have an idea but, as far as Pepper would be concerned, it's not the safest so we're gonna move over to the testing station and try it out there. That good?"

Peter nodded and slid off the bench to follow Tony to a more secured area of the lab that they had made after their last drone went a little crazy and set fire to Dumm-e and Tony's R&D paperwork.

Setting up the beaker and grabbing a few chemicals as well as safety goggles and gloves, Tony explained his idea for adding a different chemical to slightly tweak the reaction of Peter's new formula, hoping to stop the clogging as Peter desired without too much change to the original tried and tested formula.

"Ready?" 

Peter just grinned, slipping his goggles over his eyes. He watched as Tony added one of the chemicals, stirred it, and asked him to look at it as well as prompting Peter to tell him what changes he saw with each new chemical that they added.

Neither paid attention as Tony reached for the last chemical he wanted to test. 

Neither of them noticed that it had accidentally been switched by Dumm-e while they had been speaking and nerding over the ways they could change and improve the formula for different uses other than Peter's regular webs.

Neither noticed until the drops of liquid from the last chemical went up in an explosion of harmless sparks and smoke, a black cloud blowing back up into their faces and the sparks setting off the lab's sprinkler system automatically.

Both Tony and Peter jerked backwards, Peter almost falling over when he slipped on the water currently still falling from the sprinklers. He grabbed onto Tony which ended up being what pulled both of them off balance, sending them to the floor in a jumbled mess of limbs and a pained yelp with Peter landed on his arm.

"Peter!" Tony gasped, managing to heave himself up a moment later and reach down to help Peter up too. He hesitated when Peter hissed and pulled his arm away, panic instantly flooding his chest at Peter's pain.

Kneeling down, Tony lifted Peter to his feet by his shoulders instead of pulling him up by his arm. As soon as the teenager was standing, Tony was fussing over him, grabbing a clean rag (now conveniently wet from the sprinklers) from a nearby table and wiping the wet cloth over Peter's face to clean the ash off and make sure none of it had somehow made its way into his eyes behind the safety goggles. 

Tony was damn grateful that he had become so much more careful when it came to lab safety after he had started working with Peter so often.

Used to Tony's automatic fussing, Peter took a moment to assess himself for any pain or irritation, knowing Tony would ask him as soon as he calmed slightly.

A moment later the man did just that.

"Were you hurt? I heard your cry when you landed. What's wrong with your arm? Did you inhale any of the smoke?" Tony rapidly shot the questions at him, ushering Peter towards the dry end of the lab and onto the couch in the one corner.

"No I wasn't badly hurt, I just sprained my wrist when I tried to catch myself when we fell. Yes, I did inhale some but not a lot because I don't feel a lot of irritation or pain." Peter answered and then cut Tony off before he could ask more questions.

"Yes, I know we have to be careful with the smoke inhalation, especially because of the chemicals, but I know how it feels when it's bad because of the fires I've had to help with. I promise I'll tell you if I start feeling anything bad or painful."

Peter's straight to the point answers finally calmed Tony enough for him to sit down on the couch next to him.

Tony opened his mouth, going to ask if Peter was sure he was okay before changing his mind. "Okay, okay, I believe you. Can Fri scan you just to be safe?"

Knowing that Tony needed the peace of mind, Peter nodded and a moment later the A.I reported back with exactly what Peter had said. A sprained wrist and minor irritation to his windpipe.

"I would recommend ice for his wrist and a glass of milk for his throat, Boss." Friday's Irish voice spoke out.

Peter nudged Tony lightly with his shoulder. "See? I'm okay. Now that we're done with me, are you okay?"

With a little huff and a smile, Tony relented. His kid was okay. No need to panic. Nope, not at all.

Peter nudged him again. If he had to answer truthfully then so did Tony.

"Yeah, Roo, I'm fine, I promise. A bit of irritation as well but no sprains, bruises, or broken bones." Tony assured him, and asked Friday to do a quick scan of him as well, thinking it was only fair since he had the A.I scan Peter.

Once again she confirmed that there was no major injury or problem.

"C'mon, I wanna go wash the ash off my face and we should probably both go grab a shower and change into dry clothes. We need to make sure that we don't have any leftover chemicals left on us and you don't need to get sick from sitting around in wet clothes, either." 

Tony was about to get up from the couch when he noticed a bruise peeking out from under the sleeve of Peter's injured wrist. He reached out and carefully held it in his own hand, the sleeve riding up more to show the black lines of what looked like the sunflower that was usually etched across the skin of Peter's lower forearm.

The only thing that made it not so normal was that the ink looked like it wasn't running down Peter's arm after getting it wet. It hadn't even smudged at all.

Looking up at the teen in question and receiving a nod, Tony pulled the sleeve up more to reveal the rest of the flower. He ran a finger over it, careful to not put pressure on Peter's wrist.

"Peter?" Tony asked softly, making sure that his voice was open and gentle.

Peter gave a quiet hmm in response. He knew that he didn't have to be nervous of telling Tony, the man's reaction and acceptance just of the markers when he first found out was proof enough of it, but he couldn't help the slight anxiety that bubbled up in his chest.

An arm was draped over his shoulders, and he was pulled into a hug.

"When did you get it done, bud?"

"A few weeks ago." Peter mumbled into Tony's shoulder.

  Oh, Tony thought. The sudden light, happiness that Peter had exuded recently made sense now. His kid had finally found the permanency that he had needed.

Pulling away, Tony asked Peter to look at him. He grinned widely at the teen when he did, three simple words being said and immediately soothing a place in Peter's heart that he hadn't known was scared.

"I like it."

Peter smiled too. "Yeah?" At Tony's nod he spoke again. "I uhh, I got two. I have another one, I mean, not just this one. I got two that day." He stumbled over his words now, a bit bashful now that he wasn't as nervous about Tony's reaction.

Tony's steady smile helped some of his confidence come back.

"Can I see it? The other one?" Tony asked him, taking notice of the shy excitement in Peter's eyes.

Peter gave a small smile and turned a bit. "It's on my back." He explained to Tony's slightly confused expression.

Peter tugged his shirt up a bit until he was sure that the colourful petals and leaves of the sunflower were visible.

"That's Ben's flower." Tony muttered. It wasn't quite a question nor was it a statement but Peter answered anyway.

"Yeah. It's Ben's flower."

After a moment of silence, Peter lowered his shirt and turned around to face Tony. The man looked at him, a strange glint in his eyes.

"He'd be proud of you, you know. I didn't know him but from what you and May have told me… well, he was an incredible man Peter. Especially to have had a hand in raising someone like you who is so kind, giving, and loving."

Hugging the man who had become his father in all but blood, Peter felt his heart warm. He had lost, he had grieved, and he had hurt. But he had also found, healed, and loved.

Peter was drawn from his thoughts by Tony hugging him closer before pulling away and getting up from the couch. "C'mon, kid. Let's go get clean and then we can sort out the mess in here before Pepper has both our hides to cushion her seat during that meeting tomorrow."

"Tony, do you really think he would be proud?" Peter asked him just as they walked out the lab doors.

"Bud, the proof is right there in those very petals on your skin. He loved you and would be so proud."

Tony was right in more ways than one as Peter would later learn because a sunflowers meaning was adoration, loyalty and longevity.

And in the ink on his skin, in the pictures and paintings on the walls, in the memories of his uncle, Peter found that and so much more. 

Peter had finally found healing from the grief that had swallowed him for so long. He had a reminder and a hope with him, something to remember the good, the happy, and the love that he had experienced as well as all that was still to come.

His sunflower had bloomed and it was glorious.

[winter-soldier-vibes]

Running on empty (Bucky x reader)

Running on empty

Bucky x anorexic reader

Word count: 1810

Warnings: lots of eating disorder talk/behaviors, self hatred

Summary: Reader relapses in their eating disorder, and the team has a bad feeling about what’s going on. Once they figure it out, Bucky comes to find you

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

When you were younger you were always an overweight kid. And everyone made sure you knew that they knew. Your peers always made fun of you for being fat. Your family always talked about weight loss techniques, some even going so far as surgeries. And your doctor was the worst… they would always make you feel guilty about it. You would go in for an injury and she would blame your weight, saying you’d be the youngest person they’d ever seen to have organ failure due to their weight. 

You didn’t let it bother you for the longest time. You somehow found a way to be confident in yourself, keep your head up, and not let the comments get to you. Your parents claimed they didn't have to worry about you because you were the most confident person they knew.

But one day it all caught up to you.

You were transitioning into college and you were feeling really stressed. Years of emotional torment were really taking their toll on you, and as much as you put on the same brave face for everyone, you weren’t fooling yourself anymore. You absolutely hate your appearance. And so, you decided to start dieting and exercising.

3 months in and you stopped eating almost entirely

4 months in and people started to notice

9 months in and you were hospitalized with a feeding tube because you were dangerously underweight.

Years later and you were still dancing between the hospital and the real world, unable to stop the addiction you had with starving yourself.

Eventually, you had gotten it under control and went into remission. You went on to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. and got to work with the Avengers often. You had advanced knowledge that proved useful to the team on missions so you often trained with them and accompanied them on missions. You were closer with them than you were with your actual family. You felt pretty happy.

Until you didn’t

You had noticed little flare ups here and there. If a mission didn’t go well you would find yourself training in the gym for hours at a time or fasting for a day or two. After one of Tony’s extravagant parties you often found yourself drinking so much that you would vomit or doing it yourself. And just looking at Natasha could cause you to tear up because you felt inadequate. 

It bothered you, it really did. You kept telling yourself that it was fine and it was normal to do these things, but you knew deep down that it wasn’t. But you just kept trying to be your normal self. 

But one day a flip just switched.

What the trigger was, you weren’t quite sure. Maybe it was just some jealousy over Natasha again. Maybe it was a mission gone wrong. Or maybe you had just stared at yourself for a little too long in the mirror getting ready, but you decided you’d had enough. You didn’t eat that day, and by the time you went to bed you knew that this wasn’t a one day type of thing. But you also knew that you would feel better if you lost a few pounds.

Over the next few days, you made excuses to miss meals with the team, claiming you had some work or training to do, or that you had already eaten. And sure, you’d get a few cocked eyebrows but they’d drop it pretty quickly. After a few weeks though, everyone started getting concerned for you.

“Does she, like, not want to be around us anymore?” Sam asked

“I don’t know what’s been going on, but (Y/N) has been acting so distant for the past few weeks. I don’t like it” Steve said, worry etched on his face. 

The team kept sharing their concerns, but Bucky stared off, wheels turning in his head trying to piece things together.

“When was the last time we saw her eat?” he asked quietly, almost to himself. 

Everyone fell silent, hearing him speak but not knowing what he said. “What did you say Buck?” Steve questioned

“Bucky looked around the table at his friends. “She always disappears around meals and I haven't actually seen her eat since before she became so distant. When was the last time anyone saw her eat?”

Everyone looked down, trying to figure it out. Realizing they all had the same answer, they began showing different knee jerk emotions. 

Tony was baffled

Peter, Thor, and Natasha were confused

Sam and Clint were saddened

Steve was concerned

And Bucky was terrified. 

Bucky kept to himself, but he had started to develop feelings for you a few weeks after the two of you had met. Despite his efforts, most of the team knew and would sometimes tease him for it when you weren’t in the room. So to say he was scared right now was a big understatement. 

He decided to go looking for you to talk to you about all of this, hoping that you were in truth, just busy and that he was wrong. Of course your hospitalizations and diagnosis were in your files, but no one had ever thought to look through them. He started in the one place he seemed to always see you - the gym.

And sure enough, you were there, running on the treadmill with sweat pouring down your face. He stared at you through the glass for a few moments, worrying thoughts running rampant though his mind. He entered the gym and you saw him, and sent him a smile since you couldn’t say anything due to being out of breath. 

He smiled back softly as he walked up to you. “Hey, can we talk for a minute?”

You sighed and turned off the treadmill. You were fine with talking, you were just annoyed that he had interrupted your 7 mile run. “Sure, Buck, what’s up?” you asked as you grabbed your towel and water

He looked down and took a breath before looking back and asking “Are you okay?”

You chuckled and said “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You began to sip your water.

He shifted his weight and ran a nervous hand through his dark hair. He took in your frame. It was smaller than he remembered. Really being able to look at you, he saw how pale you were and how your eyes were sunken in. He pulled his eyebrows together in concern, asking “When was the last time you actually ate?”

You nearly choked your water. Surely he couldn’t have caught on.

He didn’t go through your files did he?

You hadn’t even lost that much yet!

You were still so fat.

Surely this couldn’t be happening. Not yet.

What do I tell-

“(Y/N)?”

You realize that you had been staring at him but hadn’t actually said anything, and your water was spilt all over the floor. You had dropped it. “Shit... uhh…” you begin, clearly flustered. “What do you mean Barnes?”

“Okay, you only call me Barnes when you’re nervous and you’re paler than when I came in, which means something is clearly wrong. (Y/N), really, when was the last time you ate?”

“Earlier today at some point? I don’t know…” you say weakly. You never had been able to lie to Bucky to his face.

Bucky sighed stepping closer. “You know you can tell me anything, don’t you?”

You look away because if you looked at him any longer you might break, and you couldn’t do that. No, you weren’t sick enough yet, you had to be strong. 

“Look, Bucky, I’m all good, really I am. So if that’s all, I’m just going to get back to my running…” you turned back to the treadmill when you felt metal clasp around your arm. Bucky noticed how much smaller it felt around his hand and swallowed thickly. You turned around, tears of desperation forming in your eyes.

“Doll, don’t take this the wrong way, but you look awful.” When you looked clearly offended, he began to backtrack. “I don’t mean that in a rude way or however you may try to take it at all. What I mean is that you’re pale. Your eyes are sunken in. you look so frail, and I’m sorry it’s just...I’m really worried about you.”

You looked down, and tears spilled over your eyes and onto the floor. “4 days,” you said quietly.

“4 days what?” Bucky questioned. 

“You looked him in the eyes, tears still falling. “4 days since I’ve eaten anything. A week since I’ve kept something down. A month since my last actual meal.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn for his face to go white. After a few seconds he removes his hand from your arm to envelop you in a hug. His body towered over you and you feel so small in his arms that he’s truly afraid he may hurt you if he holds you too tightly. 

“What brought this on?” he asks after a minute or so. 

You shrug weakly. “I don’t know… probably something stupid. It always happens that way.” when you feel Bucky stiffen slightly, you add “Yeah, this all, uh….it's happened before a few times.” you sniffle. “Before i came here, that is. I don’t know why it happened this time. It’s just that everyone is so perfect and then I’m me so… yeah.

Bucky pulls back to look you in the eye and brush back some hair from your face. “I don’t know why you feel inadequate (Y/N). Everyone here loves you so much. And all of us, perfect? I mean do you remember all those things I did? We all have something dark about us, and it’s okay that you do too. But it’s not okay to hurt yourself like this, doll. I’m so sorry you’re going through all of this. But i’m here to help you.”

You snorted. “Why would you want to help me Buck?” you ask, voice cracking.

He took another breath and wiped the tears from your eyes. “Because I care about you (Y/N). A lot of people do. And I’ve been wanting to say this for a while, but (Y/N), I really like you. A lot. And I will do anything I can to help you.

Your gaze drops. “You’re just saying that…”

He lifts your chin to look at you again. He shakes his head. “No, (Y/N), I’m not. I really do like you.”

You look at him searching his face for any indication of a lie but there is none, and all you find is concern and...could that actually be a little bit of love? You move to hug him again. “Thank you, Bucky.” you say. 

“Of course, (Y/N), anytime. He rubs your back. “I’m with you till the end of the line.”

[stellanova002]

Sanders Sides Highschool AU - “Stay True to Yourself”

This story is going to focus on all the sides and the different dilemmas they face. (The dilemmas can reach from school, family, friends to personal identity.)

Characters: Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil and Remus and Janus.

Summary: Virgil has moved around all his life and never been able to quite settle down. He and his dad have just moved to Florida, and Virgil is super nervous about starting high school. Adding to the already existing fear of going to high school, is also the fact that Virgil always has been picked on in school. He doesn’t know if it is because of his style in clothing, his hobbies or the fact that he is.....well, gay. And he has finally had enough! Virgil decides to put on a tougher persona, so, when school starts he is never letting anyone mess with him ever again.

-

Chapter 1

Growing up and figuring out who you are is one of the hardest challenges you can face; Especially as a teenager. You are expected to know what you want your future to look like while you also struggle with grades, family, friends, and all the other things going on in your body. You are no longer a child but also nowhere near grown-up. And the adults in your life will constantly remind you of this. They seem to get to decide when you are old enough to take responsibility and when you are too young to make your own decisions. 

And nowhere is this more apparent than in high school. 

It is Monday morning and the summer break is over. A small car is driving on the highway with two individuals inside. A father and a son. In the car's backseat, the son, Virgil, shifts his focus from the road to the window, trying to keep himself occupied. The world outside keeps on passing by and the speed is making all buildings, trees, and people look like blurred objects. 

Meanwhile, in the driver's seat, the father adjusts the rearview mirror to take a look at his son. Virgil has his head leaned on his palm and is staring out the window, he is wearing his usual striped hoodie, a dark purple t-shirt, and ripped black jeans. 

Virgil’s father sights. It’s been two years since the death of his wife and Virgil has been going through a lot. He has lost count of how many times Virgil has had to switch schools because of bullying, and how many times they’d been forced to move because of his old job. 

Virgil and his father are new to the city, they recently moved here during the summer break. One of the many reasons for moving was that Virgil's father got a new job and he thought it would be the perfect opportunity to start over. 

The light from the sun then bounces off the mirror and reflects onto Virgil. Virgil who is blinded by it turns to see where it came from, only to discover that his dad is looking at him.

Noticing that he’s been caught his dad quickly looks back on the road, embarrassed.

Virgil then sits up and starts to fiddle with his fingers, unable to distract from his thoughts any longer.

'What if I screw up? What if I say something wrong that will make everyone hate me?! Dad would eventually find out and come to the confusion that we'd have to move again. Fuck. Can we even afford to move?! Dad just got a new job. We just got here and now I'm going to end up ruining everything! Why do I always have to be such a pain?!'

Virgil's father tries to call his son's name but Virgil is not responding - being too caught up in his spiraling thoughts. 

The car then slows down to a gentle crawl. Virgil's father leans back and gently pats Virgil on his knee. "Hey buddy, how are you holding up?" His touch is enough to snap Virgil out of it. 

After a moment's silence, Virgil turns to his dad and shrugs. “I dunno. Fine, I guess…”

“That did not look fine." 

“I- I’m just nervous”, Virgil admits, “I don’t want to screw this up.”

"You won't screw anything up." His father's gaze is stern. "You never have and you never will." 

Virgil wrinkles his nose and scoffs. 'We all know that's not true' 

"Besides everyone is nervous on their first day, you won't be the only one."

"Yeah, but not everyone has anxiety", Virgil mutters to himself. 

His father turns his head away, clenching his jaw, not knowing how to respond to that. Instead, they continue to drive in silence. 

Virgil is sitting hunched, his body turned away from his dad. 

"What I meant to say was… ", his father says, unable to take the silence any longer, "Everyone is starting their freshman year. This is a new school and people have surely matured during the summer. I don't think you have anything to be afraid of." 

"I'm not so sure… I mean look at me!" Virgil gestures to himself. 

"I am", his father says, "and all I see is a perfectly normal boy." 

Virgil snorts. "Yeah right, because a normal boy would totally wear this, put on eyeshadow, and get a crush on other boys!" 

"Yes!" 

"Normal boys didn't get bullied like me, dad!" 

His dad grips the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turn white. Of course, he knows that Virgil has never been like most kids; He was always a little too sensitive and enjoyed things that most boys didn't. However, all that still doesn't justify how other people treated him. 

Yes, his son may not be like the majority but so what!? There is nothing wrong with that. 

"We're here…" The car, now in the school's parking lot, comes to a stop. Virgil climbs out of the car and grabs his backpack, he adjusts the large headphones around his neck and shuts the door. 

His father scrolls down the car window.

"Love you, stormcloud."

Virgil gives his father a small smile. "Yeah, I know dad.." 

He tilts his head, a serious expression on his face. "And promise me that you will begin to stand up for yourself."

"...Yeah...I’ll try...." 

The window slowly begins to creep back up. "I'm serious!”, he points to his son, “I need to get to work now, call me if you need anything and please, at least try to make some friends. Okay, kiddo?" 

Virgil just nods, not willing to make any promises. 

The car then begins to drive away and fade from Virgil's eye view. After it disappears Virgil takes a deep breath as he turns to look at his new school, a dreaded feeling in his stomach. 

Ugh! He is so tired of being scared of places like this. 

Behind this door, anything could happen. His life could finally change for the better; he could meet new friends and make high school the best years of his life...or….It could be another school filled with bullies making him wish he was never born.

Although... thinking back to his earlier school years, Virgil might think of a way to make people leave him alone. In his previous schools, there were always those kids that nobody dared to mess with. They were confident, took no one’s bullshit, and had, let’s just say...a bad reputation. Not even the worst bullies dared to do anything to them. 

With determination in his eyes, Virgil flattens his hair and makes his bangs cover his eyes. He straightens his posture, puts his hands in his pockets, and marches towards the school. 

“Friends”, Virgil sneers, “Never had them before so why should I need them now?" 

'Besides, who would even want to be friends with someone like me…' 

-

"Patton!"

"Yeah, mom?!"

"Could you please come down and help me, sweetie?!" 

"Of course! I'll be right there!"

Twenty minutes away from the school, in a nice little cul-de-sac, a boy dressed in a cyan-blue polo shirt and grey cardigan bounces down the stairs and walks into his kitchen. 

In the kitchen, his mom is standing and preparing lunch while his siblings, Liam and Fiona, are eating cereal by the kitchen table.

Patton gives his mom a huge smile. "Morning, mom!" 

She returns the gesture, "Good morning", she says and puts in three peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the lunch bags. 

Patton looks around, "What did you want help with?" 

"Can you take these bags and put them in Fiona and Liam's backpacks." 

"Sure thing!" 

Patton walks up to his mom, gives her a peck on the cheek, and takes the sandwiches to the backpacks down the hall. 

After putting the bags in the backpacks Patton checks to see if his siblings have packed everything; extra clothes; some fruit; a stuffed animal. He just knows they can't bear to be without them. 

When he gets back to the kitchen, Fiona and Liam have already put their bowls in the sink and run upstairs to brush their teeth. 

Patton is just about to go up and see if they need help when his mom calls for him:

“Patton, honey can I talk to you for a second?” The smile on her face is gone and she is standing with her arms tangled in front of her. 

Patton hesitates. Has he done something wrong?

He puts his hands behind his back and twists his body before he makes his way to his mom, eyes looking down at the floor. 

She kneels, takes a hold of his hands, and pulls them forward. 

"Am I in trouble…?", Patton asks, a lump forming in his throat. 

"No, sweetie…", she kisses his forehead, "You're not in trouble. I'm sorry if I made it seem that way." 

Patton’s whole body relaxes and he lets out a sigh of relief.

“Your Dad and I have just been talking about something", her smile drops and it turns into a frown. "We are going to be very short on staff at work, both at the hospital and at the residential home. It is going to be very likely that we both need to work overtime. This will affect a lot of things back home, things like picking up Fiona and Liam from school, dropping them off at training, and helping them with their homework." His mom grabs his hand tightly. "I know this isn’t fair - but Dad and I need you to step up and take some more responsibility. Can you do that?“

Patton’s parents both work in service jobs. His dad works as a nurse at the hospital and his mom works at a residential home. It's not the best-paying jobs but they manage to get by and Patton couldn’t be more proud of them and the work that they do. 

But there is part of him that is worried about how this will affect school. What if this is going to negatively affect his grades and make him fall behind. 

Patton looks at his mom, standing there in her uniform, looking tired and just waiting for an answer. He can’t possibly say something to make her feel bad. He is starting high school right now, he shouldn’t even have any hesitations about this… 

A selfless person wouldn't…. 

Patton puts on his most genuine smile. “Of course. It is about time to practice some...uhh….adultery!”

She snickers. 

“I am so proud of you! Continuing to be our happy little boy.”

“That’s me!”, Patton points to himself. 

Mom gives him a hug, stands up, and lightly pushes him towards the stairs. “I think it’s time for you to go up and tell your brother and sister that they need to hurry up. The school bus is almost here.” 

-

“Beep! Beep! Beep!” Roman groans at the sound of the alarm.

The alarm keeps beeping for a while before he sits up in his bed and turns to the side to shut it off. Roman then quickly yawns and looks at the clock: 

It’s 6:50. 

School starts at 8:00 so he might as well wake up and get ready. It takes time to look as fabulous as he does every day. 

And it's about half an hour's drive from his dad's mansion to the school. 

Roman gets out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom. He passes by his brother Remus' room and it's pitch black, he is still fast asleep and snoring loudly.

Roman rolls his eyes and walks up to his brother's bed. He claps his hands and the lights turn on, but Remus just groans. Roman then grabs the covers and pulls them off. 

But as the covers come off Roman sees something he wishes he could unsee. "OH MY GOD!", Roman shrieks.

There laying in his bed is Remus; Naked. 

Remus stretches out his whole body, sheepishly smiling at Roman. "Morning, Ro. Slept well?" 

"Shut up! Where are your clothes?!" 

Remus swings his feet off the bed, laughing. "You should know that by now, Roman. I sleep in the buff." 

"That is disgusting!" Roman throws a pair of underwear at his brother. "Get dressed."

While Remus puts on the underpants Roman goes to the bathroom to get ready. He locks the door, takes off his pajamas, and gets in the shower. 

After washing himself and putting on deodorant, Roman looks at his reflection in the mirror. 'Looking good~'.

He dries his hair, combs it, and finishes it up with some hairspray. And as a final touch, he puts on a light patch of makeup - some baby cream, foundation, and just a small winged eyeliner. 

'Wouldn't want dad to make a big deal of it.'

BAM! BAM! BAM! 

Roman flinches at the sudden noise. "What the hell Remus?!"

Remus continues to knock on the door."Get out of the bathroom, Ro! It's my turn. You know that there's not enough makeup in the world to improve that mug!"

"WE HAVE THE SAME FACE." 

Roman takes his bathrobe and throws the door open. He gives his brother an annoyed glance as they switch places. 

He looks at the clock in the hall: 7:15 

Shit!!!

Roman ruches back to his room and puts on the clothes he laid out yesterday. After putting on tight-fitted jeans, a white t-shirt, and a red sports-jacket, he runs down the house's marble staircase and into the kitchen. 

As Roman enters the kitchen, he sees that his father is in the dining room reading the newspaper with a cup of coffee. Roman hesitates before he fills his bowl with some yogurt and berries, and joins him at the table. His father is wearing his pristine dark blue suit and his suitcase rest beside his chair. 

He glances at Roman, eyeing him up and down. “Son.”

“Father.”

Remus arrives just a few minutes later, his hair is wet from the shower and he's putting on socks in a hurry. He's wearing a booger green shirt, black military-printed pants, and a spiked leather jacket. Remus glances at the clock and notices that he has limited time, so he decides to take a banana from the fruit bowl. The atmosphere is uneasy as they all continue to eat their breakfast. 

The father then takes a long sip of his coffee before folding his newspaper and leaning down on the table. 

“Boys, you are about to move onto the next stage of your lives and I think it’s important that you begin to act your age.” He glares at Roman. “Which starts by quitting your childish hobbies and focusing on something more worthwhile”. 

Roman slams his hand on the counter. "But dad!" 

"No objections! You are a talented sportsman son, it's about time you quit that girly activity and apply to the school's football team." 

He then looks at Remus, who has put the whole banana in his mouth. “And Remus, I don't ask for much, just don't get into a habit of getting into trouble. And please, try not to ruin this family’s reputation…”

“Yes, dad…”, Roman sights.

“Whatever you say, pops” Remus scoffs, why should he care about his family's stupid reputation. It's only a reputation for being boring rich snobs anyway. 

Their father straightens his tie, stands up, and grabs his suitcase. "Mr. Sato will drive you to school. I have to get to the airport for my business trip. You’ll be staying with your mom this week, and I’ll see you at the end of the weekend." He puts away his coffee mug and leaves the kitchen without saying anything else to them; no “good luck”, no “have a great day”, or even “I love you”. 

Roman can only hope to hear at least a goodbye from his father but knows he is gone the moment the front door slams shut.

The twins then finish their breakfast and step outside, waiting for Mr.Sato to drive the car out of the garage. He opens the door for both of them, respectfully nodding his head to say good morning. Roman returns the gesture. 

Mr. Sato is the boy’s personal chauffeur, the one who has taken them to school for most of their lives. Roman really likes Sato, he always listens to him and makes him feel like he can be himself around him. He’s who Roman will turn to when he needs to vent to anyone besides his friends. 

Roman’s face lights up as he thinks about them. That’s right, he’ll see his friends today! God, how he’s missed them. Patton’s warm hugs, Logan’s wordplays, their playful banter. 

If one thing is certain is that these school years will be just like the rest. Just him, Logan, and Patton. Like it always has been. 

Like it always will be.

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

60. “have you always been this beautiful?” + 68. “You owe me a kiss.” for sean/reader plssss?

Glitter in The Air (Sean X Reader)

A/N: This is just pure Sean Falco bubble gum cotton candy fluff just for Joz ☺️☺️😍

You held your finger above the mouse and debated which road to take:

Add him. It's only been four years, but he's bound to remember you.

Forget it. It’s been four years, how would he ever remember you?!

Without a second thought you clicked add friend on the Facebook name “SeanFalco92.” You typed out a little note just in case.

Hey, Sean.

I'm sorry about what happened at the University. You're a bit infamous. Not every day the quiet Irishman gives it to the campus police. That fire hydrant was ugly anyways.

Y/N, The Dark Room Princess

Then you switched off the internet to prevent yourself from nervously checking every ten minutes to see a response. So you poured yourself a cup of coffee and put your headphones in. It was gonna be an all-nighter on your grad school thesis.

Your computer made a loud ping noise that startled you from sleep you didn't realize you had fallen into. You raised your head and looked at the time “11am.” Thank God, still a few hours until you had to turn in your thesis. Then you were free to never worry about university again, until the loans rolled in. You groaned.

Still you adjusted yourself and your glasses to read the message that had come up alongside the friend request acceptance.

Hey! Yeah it's totally been awhile. How have you been? I felt the wrath of my parents when they bailed me out. Due for a bit of community payback for a few months. Sorry “Service.” Next time I won't get nicked.

Not quite sure about the dark room reference, but was thinking you should meet me at the carnival on Friday. I know I shouldn't be on campus, but I had tickets before everything went down. Care to be my reason for still showing my face after all that humiliation?

Sean

You shook your head and laughed. He definitely didn't remember you, and you weren't exactly sure what he was up to. Who turns down an opportunity to spend the night with Sean Falco?

You took your time replying. Showering. Eating lunch. Printing your thesis and assembling it. Not wanting to appear eager in your reply. He pinged again.

You there? It looked like you were online. Sorry, didn't mean to appear so needy or forward. I just thought it’d be nice to be reacquainted.

You cocked an eyebrow, cheeks flushed a bit and finally returned a response.

Yeah. I would like that. I live in the Madison apartments. Get to Union station (I'm guessing you lost your license?) and we’ll take the Gold Line back to campus. See you at 7.

Sean's comeback was immediate.

It's a date!

Your face grew even hotter. Fuck, it's a date.

-----

You couldn't help but be nervous as you paced around the front steps of your apartment complex. You felt confident in the cute outfit you rushed out and bought impulsively. Or how you bit the bullet and got your hair done too after you delivered your thesis. You claimed it was in celebration of the rest of your life and nothing to do with the tall, lanky Irishman now headed your way.

“Sean!” a bit startled as you turned around in his direction.

Curly hair a bit wild, his jeans looking industrial but you knew they weren't bought that way. The purple tee-shirt he wore somehow made his leafy green eyes positively stunning. His hand was outstretched with a flower held towards you.

“T’ought I might go a bit old-fashioned t’night,” you took the --- from him. “Maybe a bit o’ congratulations for finishing your t’esis paper.”

Glad your hair covered your ears because you knew the tips were bright red. You never remembered his lilt being that strong or noticeable. Maybe for some strange reason it was his nerves too?

“A Peony? Sean, these are my favorites! How’d you know?” you smelled it briefly before you tucked it away behind your ear. Pleasantly surprised. “Thank you.”

“I may have creeped around your photos a bit, hope ye don't mind?” Sean raised his hands and crinkled one of his eyes shut.

“This is my first flower from anyone, so I'll take some light stalking in the meantime. We should hurry though, the train leaves in ten minutes.”

The two of you side by side. You sat turned to face him, back towards the window of the car. Sean faced forward and stole sideways glances while you talked.

“So what does a young lady with a Masters in Art History do fer livin?”

“I want to restore old paintings at the Met in New York, but I'll probably be stuck here in Portland till I'm thirty. What about you, think you can bypass a degree and still be a photojournalist? Maybe and Irish Ansel Adams?”

Sean laughed, “How did you know any of that?” He looked directly at you with a gleam in his eyes.

“You really don't remember me do you?”

You took a chance and slid your hand into his to prevent him from picking at a loose thread in his shirt. Sean easily enclosed it without hesitation.

“Mostly!” Cheek hidden in his smile. “I just thought something about ye clicked in my brain. Can't figure out why, but was hopin’ going out with ye would jog my mind. Is t’at ok?”

There was no time to answer. Soon enough you were back on campus. You talked Sean into some french fries and corn dogs before tugging at his hand excitedly.

“Ok, the Ferris Wheel! Let's do that first? We should be able to see downtown, and it'll be dusk by the time we get on.”

Sean hesitated as his eyes glanced up towards the top. A flash of nerves behind his eyes, but he gave up and shrugged. Obediently following you in line while he ate, a bit sullen.

Surely the guy who just fought a fire hydrant and a cop wouldn't be scared of heights, you thought. Then you flashed back to that day Freshman year and Sean's panicked voice in the dark. His ragged breath and palms that sweat through your tee shirt as he held onto your shoulders.

You shoved a cheese fry in your mouth as the line staggered forward slow and steady. The conversation had died quite suddenly, but you knew you had to take the chance. Cheesy romantic comedy as this all was, who doesn't want to be with a hot guy alone stuck on a ride?

“Uh y/n?” The giggle was back in Sean’s voice now as you broke from your reverie. “You've got some..” His thumb swiped at the corner of your mouth before he lifted it to his own. “Cheese.”

“Thank.. you?” The tension was silent and awkward.

Then, as the two of you simply stared at each other, Sean let out a sound somewhere between a strangled laugh and a snort. It was infectious, and you instantly joined in. That type of laughter you aren't sure how people achieve, but it leaves you breathless and annoying to everyone in your sight.

“I don't know.. why..I licked.. my thumb,” he wheezed around the most childlike giggle. “It was like a weird compulsion.” The way he said the word came out like “way-rd,” and instigated more laughter from deep inside you.

It seemed to ease Sean’s apprehension as the two of you began to board the ride, though. A calm coming over him as you both quieted down. He white-knuckled the bar as it clicked into place over your laps. Eyes wide as it lurched into motion.

You brushed your fingers tentatively over his clenched fist. Sean had a glazed look in his eyes as you slowed and stopped multiple times. You inches towards the top. He really was frightened.

“I've just gotta get over this. I'm confronting my fear is all.” He sounded so serious with a hint of pride, you stifle a chuckle with a bite of a lip.

Sean peered slightly over the edge of the car and looked downwards. Then it halted suddenly and he grabbed your hand and covered it with his massive one. You squirmed around to hold it properly as he squeezed his eyes shut. The car swung back and forth a bit on the precarious side, even for you. One last time, and it would start spinning in its giant lackadaisical circle.

Forward. Pitch to a stop even harder than the last few. This time Sean buried his face in your shoulder, and you relished this surprising role-reversal. But then he looked up at you in the most serious manner.

“Have you always been this beautiful?”

At the same exact time you said:

“First claustrophobia now heights”

You both sat up straight and gaped.

Again simultaneously.

“How d’ye know I'm claustrophobic?!”

“Did you just call me pretty?”

For the moment, Sean was no longer afraid. Your sentiment about his fear distracted him long enough that he loosened up immensely. Long fingers scratched at his mess of curls while deep in thought. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, heart beating wildly in your ears.

Sean tugged at his chin with a forefinger and thumb. Obviously deep in thought as he gazed off into the sky. It was like a lightbulb finally popped on over his head.

“Jesus (jaysus) Dr Bacher’s photography course. Freshman year!”

You smiled, “By Jove I think he's got it!”

“T’at’s how ye know me. We got right stuck in that darkroom door. It was like a pitch-black tube really. Man I bloody well panicked.”

“I thought you were screwing with me at first! Your hands were so sweaty my tee-shirt was wet from where you were groping me. I kept thinking how every single girl in our class would've killed our professor to be stuck with the hot Irish guy. All that heavy breathing, my teenage brain thought it was sexual tension.”

“I was 18 wedged in a small space with a cute girl. It was claustrophobia, but it was also sexy.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and smiled. The two of you ignoring the ride and it's slow rotations. Still holding hands.

“I don't think I imagined that..” you struggled with the next line.. “parts of you were totally poking into me.”

Sean's mouth dropped open but he repeated his prior sentiment. A bit higher pitched. “I WAS 18 IN A SMALL SPACE WITH A HOT GIRL!” His lilt was more pronounced.

“Who gets a fear.. boner,” you rolled back into the hysterics from earlier on the ground.

Sean's face a deep crimson as his mouth tightened into a straight line. He looked away, but you knew he was playing along. Those eyes betrayed him with a hint of a smile.

“You told me if I got us out you’d take me on a date.”

“I said I'd kiss ye if we got out alive. Never knew how long it’d be til someone found us.”

“You did!” you agreed excitedly. “The door just needed hoisted up and back on the track. Which I did! Then we stumbled out and I practically threw myself in your arms for that kiss.”

“Wait, did we?” Sean turned back to you as the Ferris wheel slowed to another stop. Neither of you remembered it moving.

“No. Stupid ass Derek Sandoval was in the classroom waiting for you.”

“Oi! Watch now, he's still my mate.” Sean's turn to tease now.

“I bet he is.”

The two of you sat back in the car. Your fingers still entwined but the fright had melted away. Sean let out a long steady breath as he really looked out on the carnival and the multicolored lights as they danced around you. The stars blanketed the sky.

“Sean?”

His face heavenwards. “Yeah y/n?

“I think you owe me a kiss,” your words soft, almost a whisper.

Sean’s gaza came back down from the clouds. The music and noise from the crowds seemed to fade away as your breath caught in your throat. Without a second thought, he let go of your hand and put his arm around you. That soft mouth leaned over and almost melted with yours. Your bodies enveloped in a hug as Sean slid the tip of his tongue between your lips. Your own darted forward to fight with it.

Then the car hulked into motion again and you broke apart. A smirk on Sean's face revealed a dimple, and you joined in with a grin of your own.

“Well, that was worth a four year wait.”

Tag list: @joz-stankovich @robertsheehanownsmyass @magic-multicolored-miracle @elliethesuperfruitlover

[toxic-stargod-apologist]

The Church of a Loving God - Eaters of the Dead

Genre: Horror

Word Count: 5,558

Synopsis: In the grim darkness of the far future, countless billions toil and suffer to keep the wheels of the imperial war machine turning. The God Emperor demands blind obedience and the only reward is a brutal death. In the dark corners of this world, among the teeming masses of humanity, Jocasta Theta will find something more; a life worth living, and a god worth believing in.

Content Notes: Cannibalism, Police Brutality

Author's Note: A massive thank you to daddyfuckinlonglegs for all their help and advice, and for motivating me to get back into writing. Jocasta's story will continue in chapter two, 'Love in a Dark Millennium'!

AO3 Link: The Church of a Loving God

The day started with bells. Jocasta opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling of the bunk house, counting the chimes. Three, four, five, then a raspy, mechanical voice crackled out from the vox caster.

“Theta shift, wake up. Theta shift, wake up. You have one hour before your work begins. Thought for the day; only in death is duty's debt repaid.”

There was a short hiss of static as the vox switched off. Jocasta lay in her bunk for a moment and tried not to think about the crushing heat. The ventilation system for her hab-block had been broken for a month; every night she prayed to the Emperor to send one of his red priests to fix it, and every morning she woke up drenched in sweat. No point dwelling on it though.

She got up and pulled her overalls out from under the bed. Her tiny section of the room was separated from the rest by a threadbare blanket hanging from a string, and as she got dressed she could hear the rustling of nineteen other people doing the same. They were all theta shift, but none of them were part of her work gang. She'd barely spoken to any of them in the three years she'd lived here.

Still, she thought as she pulled the blanket aside, there was no reason to be unfriendly. She gave a smile and a nod to each of them as she made her way to the door. Some of them smiled back. Some of them didn't. All of them looked tired.

The door was jammed, like it had been every morning since the ventilation broke, but it swung open after a few sharp kicks. Jocasta breathed deep as she stepped out into the cavernous, and relatively cool, expanse of transit tunnel forty-one. It was a vast, diagonal shaft formed of buttressed rockcrete walls lined with dozens of metal walkways, all of them bustling with people heading to, or from, their allocated workplace. The steeply sloping floor of the tunnel was covered by rails, along which cargo pallets were constantly moving, and the ceiling was festooned with pipes, cables, and dim, flickering glow-globes which cast the hubbub below in shades of orange and amber.

Jocasta was vaguely aware that there was a universe outside the tunnel – the mountainous hive-city of Gloriana Aeterna stretching up for miles above her, a planet outside, and thousands of planets beyond – but she would never see them. This tunnel, and the chambers branched off from it, had been her whole world since the day she was born. Her little corner of the imperium.

As she made her way down the walkway she scanned the crowd for familiar faces. Most days that search was fruitless, but this was a lucky day. Through the throngs of shuffling figures she spotted an unruly shock of blonde hair, and with a little pushing and shoving she got close enough to recognise the pale, lanky man it was attached to. Exactly who she'd been hoping to see. Surreptitiously she spat on her hand and dragged it through her short red hair; she'd once seen a pict-capture of noblewomen from the upper hive, all of them beautiful and all of them with their hair slicked back.

“Good morning Seth!” She fell into step beside her work mate, who looked down at her with a weary smile that made her heart beat a little quicker. “I'm so glad I caught you, did you hear what happened on sigma shift? Katra, from the market, told me all about it. Apparently the coreward grinder threw a gear just as the shift was ending, which isn't all that strange, happens all the time, but after the technomats pushed it back in they still couldn't get the whole thing spinning. So one of them says 'there must be something stuck in there, we'll just take the casing off and find it'. So then they did, and they saw what was jamming it, and guess what it was? Go on, guess! I'll give you three tries.”

Seth's brow furrowed. He looked up at the roof of the tunnel, his lips moving silently, then looked back down at Jocasta. “Okay, first guess... Was it a sump rat?”

Her mouth fell open. “You knew? That's not fair! You can't pretend to guess if you already knew!”

“I didn't know,” Seth said with a grin, “I just figured it out. There's not many things big enough to jam the grinder but small enough to come up through the pipes. Also I hear rats down there all the time.”

“Ooh, you're such a liar! You couldn't just 'figure that out'. You know I thought I could trust you, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe I'll have to find a new friend who doesn't try to cheat me.” She tried to look serious, but Seth put on such an exaggerated show of remorse that she couldn't help smiling.

“You really can't trust me any more? After everything we've been through? After everything I've done for you?”

She put her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. “And what exactly have you done for me?”

“Well...” He leaned down until their heads were practically touching and lowered his voice to a whisper. Jocasta could hear her heart thumping in her chest. “...how about scrounging up something to eat on our break?. One of my bunk mates managed to find some meat. Some unprocessed meat. And since he owed me a favour, I got us a slice to share.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you joking?” she whispered. “You have to tell me if you're joking, you can't just say something like that and not mean it. And what do you mean he found it, anyway? Do you know what it came from? He didn't steal it, did he? Because if he stole it-”

A deafening burst of trumpets rang out from the vox pylons above them. As one, every worker stopped in their tracks. A moment later the cargo pallets below them shuddered to a halt. Silence, heavy and oppressive, settled over the tunnel. Jocasta stole a glance at Seth; he'd already closed his eyes and crossed his hands over his heart in the shape of the holy aquila. She shuffled a little closer to him and did the same.

“Citizens of Gloriana Aeterna.” The deep, sonorous voice came from every vox, in every direction. “Hear me, and give thanks. The God Emperor protects you, his faithful servants, for as long as you dedicate your lives and deaths to him. Through the might of his armies, he protects you. Through the swift justice of his arbites, he protects you. Through the diligence of his administrators, he protects you...”

The familiar litany washed over Jocasta. She's heard it so many times she could recite it backwards. Real meat, though... That was a special kind of gift. Silently, in her heart, she gave thanks for it.

***

It took another half an hour to descend to the ration processing plant. Down here the walls of the tunnel were studded with loading bays and access ports, and the air was thick with industrial smog. The two of them made their way through the murk, moving slowly and cautiously over corroded walkways and down rickety ladders, until they reached the entrance hatch for loading bay seven. Seth started coughing. He'd been doing that a lot recently.

Inside, the noise in the low-ceiling bay was almost painfully loud. Workers from Sigma shift were rushing to and fro, shouting instruction to each other as they tried to unload the last of their shipments. Enforcers holding crackling shock mauls and suppression shields prowled between them, reflective visors covering their faces. Heavy carts trundled over the metal floor grates with their axles squealing, and over it all was the roar of the spinning grinders at the far end of the bay.

The men and women of theta shift were huddled against one wall, staying out of the way until their time came, but between them and the access hatch was an armoured security booth. Jocasta walked up to the mesh grill at the front of the booth and smiled at the grim-faced watchman behind it.

“Jocasta Theta, reporting for shift.”

The man grunted and peered down at his data-slate until he found her name, then pressed his thumb against the screen. He reached down under the desk to pull out two rectangular metal tins, each the size of Jocasta's palm, and slid them through the gap at the bottom of the grill.

“Two ration packs, corpse-starch. No eating between breaks. No hoarding. No trading. Return the tins at the end of your shift. Do you understand?”

The enforcer had said the same words to her every morning for the last three years, and she'd given the same response. “Yes sir, I understand. May the Emperor protect you.”

“And you. Move along.”

Jocasta put her rations in her pocket and went to join the rest of her shift, leaving Seth to report in behind her. She knew almost all of her co-workers by name, even if she hadn't had a chance to get to know most of them, but today there was an unfamiliar face. A man... No, a boy, probably on his first work assignment. Maybe four of five years younger than her? Not even old enough to shave. He looked every bit as scared as Jocasta had been when she started at the plant, and she decided that he needed a friend.

“Hey there kid, welcome to loading bay seven! You're new, aren't you? Please say you're new, if you've been here for a while I'll be so embarrassed. My name's Jocasta. What's yours?”

“Uh...” The boy hesitated, looking down at the floor. “My name is Lansan. It's nice to meet you.” His voice was so quiet she could barely hear him over the noise.

“Well it's very nice to meet you too, Lansan. I guess this is the first place you've worked? Well don't worry about that, we'll show you the ropes in no time. Which section are you assigned to?”

“Um, I think they said I'd be unloading the pallets?”

Jocasta kept smiling, but her heart sank. “Oh, so you'll be working with me! That's good. Did they say who you're replacing?” She already knew the answer.

“Yes, they said the last person got reallocated to a manufactorum on the upper levels. His name was Dillan?”

“Gillan. His name was Gillan.” Jocasta struggled to keep her voice level. Gillan had been nearly forty, with a limp he couldn't hide any more. No manufactorum would have taken him.

She tried to think of something to say, but before she had a chance the bell rang to signal the shift change. The exhausted workers of sigma shift put down their tools and started filing towards the exit, and theta shift moved quickly to take their place. Jocasta walked towards the wide metal shutter on the tunnel side wall, still thinking about Gillan, wishing Lansan wasn't following quite so close behind her. She wanted time to think, but the shutters were already opening to accept the first delivery of the day. She'd just have to wait until the shift was over.

“Alright Lansan, this is the start of the chain. The cargo comes in through here, we jump onto the pallet, then we throw it over so it can be loaded onto the carts. After that it goes through the grinders and onto second stage processing, but you don't need to worry about that bit. Do you have a handkerchief? That's good, tie it around your face. It'll help with the smell. Grab yourself some gloves from the rack, try and get a pair without any holes in them. Let's see... You know how to lift, right? Knees bent, back straight?”

The boy nodded, pulling his gloves on, and she did the same. With a familiar shriek of metal on metal a wide platform rolled into view down the tunnel and pivoted into the loading bay, coming to a halt a couple of feet away from the edge of the floor. Lansan went pale as the smell hit them; the platform was piled high with corpses, collected from all the middle and lower levels of the city. Jocasta saw his expression and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“Try to think of it as cargo, rather than people. The city needs to eat. Just be careful when you jump across, you don't want to fall into the pipes.”

He nodded slowly, but she could see his hands trembling. There was nothing more she could do for him except lead by example, so she jumped across to the platform and started pulling a body off the top of the pile. Lansan joined her, gingerly picking up the corpse by the shoulders as Jocasta lifted its ankles. Under her direction they carried it to the edge of the pallet, gave it a couple of swings, then threw it across the gap to where a couple of carters were waiting to load it.

“So, Lansan, how far up do you live?” She was hoping to take his mind off the task at hand, if only so he'd stop being so squeamish.

“Um, about forty minutes walk? We're a couple of levels down from the market.”

“You're not that far above me then! Oh, and you said 'we', does that mean you're still living with your family?” The boy just nodded. “You're lucky. My parents got moved to tunnel thirty-six just after I started working here. Haven't seen them for years.”

“I'm sorry, that must be hard. Not knowing...” He paused for a moment to find his footing as they picked up a particularly heavy body. “Not even knowing if they're still alive, I mean.”

Jocasta found herself lost for words for a moment, and almost slipped on a bloated hand. She wanted to believe the kid didn't mean any harm, but surely he was old enough to know better? Either way, there was only way to respond. “Well if they're dead, I'm sure they died serving the Emperor. You can't ask for anything more than that.” She had to force the words out. You never knew who was listening.

“Oh, yes, of course. I didn't mean... I was just thinking, I don't know what I'd do if my parents got reassigned. I guess they'd move me to a smaller bunk, but I've never lived alone before. Did you ever... Urgh!”

The boy recoiled and fell backwards as the arm he was holding came away from the shoulder with a wet slurping sound. Jocasta dropped her end of the body, leaving it on the edge of the platform, and walked quickly over to him.

“Listen, Lansan,” she whispered as she helped him up. “I need you to be a little tougher, okay? The guards here don't care that you're young, or that it's your first day. If they don't think you can work, you'll get moved somewhere else. Somewhere worse, on the lower levels. Your parents wouldn't want that for you, so just...”

Too late, she saw his gaze move down to the corpse behind her. By the time she turned round it was already slipping over the side of the platform, down into the pipes, and she could only stand there as it disappeared from view. A moment later there was a crash, then a distant, wet thud. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew what was coming.

“Worker!” The shout cut through the noise of the loading bay. Jocasta opened her eyes again and fixed her gaze on the floor; she could hear the heavy footsteps of the enforcer walking towards her. A quick glance at Lansan confirmed he was keeping his head down as well. At least his parents had taught him that much.

“Wasting the city's food is a crime. Which one of you is responsible?”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lansan opening his mouth, but she was quicker. “It was me, sir. I wasn't paying attention. I'm very sorry, it won't happen again, I...”

“Step off the platform.” The man sounded more bored than angry. Jocasta jumped across to the loading bay and turned to face him, making sure not to look him in the visor. “You have your rations for the day?” She nodded. “Give me one of them.” She fished the tin out of her pocket and the man snatched it out of her hand. He opened it, checked the contents, and dropped it into a pouch on his belt.

It was a lighter punishment than she'd expected. She let herself relax a little. “Thank you sir. Permission to get back to-”

Without warning the enforcer swung his shock maul into Jocasta's stomach. It wasn't a hard hit. It didn't need to be. Her world went dark, then brilliant white flashes danced across her vision. All she could hear was a snapping, crunching sound that seemed to come from every direction at once.

It only lasted for a moment, and when her vision returned she was lying on the ground at the enforcer's feet. She tried to stop herself trembling, but she couldn't. Across the bay she could see Seth staring at her. He looked scared.

The man leaned down to speak to her, his boot inches away from her face. “You're going to go down to the pipes during the first break and retrieve that corpse. You will not be late. You will not return empty-handed. Do you understand?” She opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out but a dry wheeze. He seemed to take that as confirmation. “Get back to work then. No more mistakes.”

As he walked away Jocasta, still shaking, got back on her feet. The hot, raw pain was starting to spread through her stomach, and she knew from experience it was going to get worse before it got better. It would make the next few hours of work agonizing. And then the pipes... People died down there. She could die down there. All because she'd been too busy trying to help the new kid...

“Um... Jocasta?”

She turned to look at Lansan. There were tears on his cheeks. He looked ashamed.

“I can help, if you want. I can go down to the pipes with you.”

For an awful moment, she thought about saying yes. Maybe the two of them would have a better chance of getting out alive. Or maybe she could run faster than him... She put the idea out of her mind. “Thanks, but I'll be fine.” Her voice was still little more than a croak. “It was only a small one, and it's already missing an arm. I can carry it just fine by myself.”

“But, maybe, I could protect you? Kind of, watch your back?”

Jocasta gave the boy the best smile she could manage. “The Emperor protects.”

***

The area under the ration processing plant was a tangled web of tunnels, pipes, junctions and crawl spaces. Bundles of cables wove through narrow corridors, linking together rusted, humming machines that only the red priests truly understood. Everywhere there was the dripping of oil, grease and other, more organic fluids from the plant above. The lights were so faint that they were little more than stars to navigate by, if they worked at all. The only people who came down here were maintenance teams, and they never made the descent without armed guards. The rats were always watching and always hungry.

Jocasta had no guards, and no weapons except a wrench that Seth had slipped into her pocket as he'd wished her good luck. The enforcers had let her take a lantern at least. The weak, yellow light only reached a few paces away from her. Beyond that there was darkness.

She'd been slow and careful at first, trying to stay quiet, freezing every time she heard something skittering through the gloom, but the morning break was only half an hour long and she knew how much worse things would be if she was late. As she went deeper into the maze she started to move faster, gripping the wrench tightly and hoping her reactions would be quick enough if something jumped out at her.

She walked through one dank, humid corridor after another, rushing down steep ramps and squeezing through air ducts, doubling back on herself whenever she reached a dead end or locked hatch. After a while her pace slowed. Every time she passed a turning she paused, trying to picture where she was in relation to the loading by above her, before choosing a path and continuing.

Eventually she reached a junction and had to stop. There was an opening leading down to her left, but surely the wall of the transit tunnel should be there? And if it wasn't, did that mean she was farther away from it than she'd thought, or had she gone so low that she was underneath it? How long had it been since the break started? She didn't have a chrono. Maybe it had been ten minutes, maybe fifteen. Maybe she'd never find the body, or the rats would find her first. She could hear them, scuttling through the gloom. They sounded like they were getting closer.

She leant against the wall and set the lantern down on the ground. Her hands were trembling. She tried to get her breathing under control, but she couldn't.

Gillan was dead. She knew he was. People didn't just stop working when they had a family to feed, even if they were ill. Perhaps he was just too sick or too badly injured to get to the plant, but the end result was the same. The weak didn't survive for long. Yesterday she'd teased him for the silly little moustache he'd started growing; she'd said it made him look like an old man. That was the last thing she'd said to him, and now he was gone.

Her shoulders started shaking. She wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeve, then squeezed hard on the metal handle of the wrench. She didn't have time to cry. Somewhere up there Seth was waiting for her. All she had to do was find the body, and then she'd find her way back to him. They'd share good food, and gossip about their shift mates, and then she could tell him how much he meant to her and hope that he felt the same...

She heard it before she saw it; the click, click, click of claws on metal. She swore under her breath. If she hadn't been so wrapped up in her own head... No, there was no time for anger. Slowly, she bent down to pick up the lantern. Her hand trembled as she raised it. There were pale, milky eyes gleaming in the dark of the corridor behind her. Three, no, maybe four creatures, though she couldn't be sure. She'd seen dead sump rats before, and no two of them had the same number of eyes.

Keeping her eyes on the crawling shadows, Jocasta started to back away. One step, two steps, and then, from behind her, she heard a low hiss. Her heart jumped into her mouth. She froze, trying to work out how far away the rat behind her was; it sounded close. A few paces, maybe.

The wrench in her hand was slippery with sweat. She tried to adjust her grip. If she could turn quickly and get in a good swing... But there wouldn't just be one, would there? They never hunted alone. Running was the only option, and out of the corner of her eye she could see the side tunnel that had confused her a moment ago. She still had no idea where it went, but it didn't matter.

Jocasta bolted forwards, ducking through the doorway as a screech went up from the rats. She sprinted down the narrow corridor, leaping over gaps in the floor grating, racing around the sharp turns and sudden twists of the tunnel. The rats were close behind her but she couldn't look back. She couldn't hold the lantern steady, and it took all of her concentration just to stay on her feet in the flickering light.

She ran on, her heart pounding, desperately, frantically looking for some way of escaping her pursuers; their shrill chittering echoed from the pipes around her. Suddenly, through the enveloping gloom, she saw a metal hatch up ahead. She darted through it, slamming her weight against the door, the rusty hinges screeching as she forced it closed. From beyond she heard the rats scratching and clawing at the metal, throwing themselves against it in a frenzy... and then, the sound faded. Listening hard, she could make out the clanking of loose grating beneath their feet, the noise getting quieter and quieter as they abandoned the chase and moved on. Gasping for air, she slid down the door and sat against it.

She was alive.

As the adrenaline receded, she realised she was in a junction room larger than any she'd found before. She couldn't tell exactly how large; the light didn't reach the far wall. What she did see, lying on the metal floor surrounded by broken ceiling panels, was the corpse. For a moment she just stared at it, uncomprehending. She was lost. She'd run for her life. How could it be right in front of her?

Slowly she climbed back onto her feet, walked up to the body, and knelt down beside it. It had taken a beating during the fall, but aside from the missing arm it was still intact. Now all she needed to do was carry it back up to the surface. But that was impossible. The rats wouldn't have gone far. She couldn't outrun them with that much dead weight on her shoulders. She was going to die. Unless... Unless there was another way out of here.

No sooner had that thought crossed her mind than she noticed a faint, pale light from up ahead of her. It didn't look like the flame of a lantern, or the glow of the electric lights that lined the halls of the hive city. It was softer. Gentler. She stood up and started moving towards it.

As she walked forwards the air seemed to shimmer. Motes of light danced around her, swirling in a breeze that she couldn't feel. The space was larger than she'd imagined, and even as the body disappeared from view behind her she still couldn't see the far wall. As she got closer to the glow she saw it was coming from a human shape on the floor; to her surprise she realised it was another, much older corpse. She'd never seen one so decayed before.

The thing that drew her eye though, and the source of the light, was the fungus. It sprouted from every part of the body, pushing through the blackened skin in strangely shaped clusters, not just one type but a myriad of different shapes. There were varieties she'd only ever heard about, and some that were completely alien to her. Fragile looking spheres on delicate stalks, glistening jellies that had eaten deep into the remains of their host, mushrooms of every shape and size. And the colours! She'd thought that all fungi were pale grey, but these were a riot of blues, oranges, pinks and browns, all of them glowing softly in the gloom. It was beautiful.

She stepped forward, holding the lantern as close as she dared. There was a rich, warm aroma rising from the corpse, so strong that she felt light-headed. As she leaned over it she realised there was a pattern hidden in the light. Everywhere she looked, the fungi had formed itself into circles. The motif was repeated across the entire body. Circles overlapping each other, circles within circles, and in the centre of the chest three thick, conjoined circles of bright green mould. They'd grown so that each circle was linked to the other two to form a triangle.

There was something more, though. Something in the centre of the pattern that she couldn't quite make out. She leaned over the body, holding the lantern closer, straining to see what was hidden there... And then her foot slipped. Before she could think her hand jerked forwards to break her fall, and with a wet, sickening squelch it hit the mould and sank into it, the desiccated body's chest cracking and collapsing under her weight.

The smell of rot and death washed over her. She scrambled to her feet and reeled back in disgust, desperately shaking the spongy, stinking slop from her hand. It clung to her skin like glue; she couldn't bare to look at it. She dropped the lantern and pulled out her handkerchief, scrubbing at her arm frantically until it was free of the muck, and then stood there, panting, over the body.

Reluctantly, Jocasta looked at her hand. It was still streaked with grime and dotted with luminescent spores, but she'd done the best she could. The handkerchief was sodden; she threw it aside, then closed her eyes.

“God Emperor, please... Please don't let me get sick. Please show me a way back up. Please let me live, just a little longer.”

She whispered the words into the dark. There was no reply.

It wasn't until she opened her eyes and bent to pick up the lantern that she heard it. The familiar click, click, click, and then a low hiss. The rats had found their way in.

Her whole body went stiff. This was it, she realised. She didn't know where she was. There might not be another way out of this room, and even if there was she wouldn't find it before they caught up to her. All she could do was die fighting; a stupid, pointless death.

She turned and saw the rats at the edge of the lantern's light. Lumpy, misshapen creatures with bony spines and tumorous growths sprouting from their backs. She counted seven of them, each of them as big as a hound and staring at her with murderous hunger. Slowly she reached into her pocket and pulled out the wrench, then stepped forwards to meet them...

And the rats backed away.

She paused. Was this some kind of trap? Were they waiting for her to leave the light? She took another step forwards. One of the rats hissed at her, then turned and scurried into the dark. The others edged backwards.

Jocasta took a deep breath and walked forwards until the lantern's pool of light was behind her. With every step the rats retreated, some of them squeaking and scuttling to the corners of the room. It was as if they were scared. She just stared after them, dumbfounded. But then, she'd asked the Emperor for help, hadn't she? And this... this was a miracle.

For a long moment she stood there, in the dark, trying to think of any other explanation. The rats could have killed her easily. She'd heard of them attacking armed groups when they were hungry enough, and these ones had looked very hungry. Just a few minutes ago they'd been chasing her down. And now suddenly they were scared of her.

No, that wasn't right, was it? They were scared of that old corpse, or the fungus. If they weren't then the whole thing would have been eaten long ago. The rats would eat anything, animal or vegetable, no matter how rotten it was. And if it wasn't the rot, or the fungus, then what else could have stopped them if not the Emperor's protection? And now that protection was on her.

There was one way to be sure. She went back and retrieved the lantern, humming a hymn under her breath, and then picked up the sodden handkerchief. She walked across the room until she saw the last few rats prowling at the edge of the light and threw the rag at them as hard as she could. Before it had even landed the creatures scattered, shrieking in panic.

Jocasta couldn't help but laugh. This was amazing! She'd seen a real miracle, right there in front of her! The body must be some kind of holy relic, hidden down here for who knows how long, and she was the one who'd found it. She wondered if Seth would believe her. In the stories, miracles only happened to holy warriors and saints... Maybe she wouldn't tell him right away. It would be her secret, at least for now.

Sighing, she realised she had more immediate concerns. It would take time to find her way back up to the plant. At least now she wouldn't have to worry about the rats though. She went back to where the ceiling was broken, hoisted the body onto her shoulders, then set off to retrace her steps. As she left, the light in the junction room faded. The sound of her footsteps died away. All that was left was silence, and the soft glow of the fungus, and the clouds of spores that danced through the air without any wind to move them.

[lovestrucked-again]

Sanguine II Mafia

Genre: Mafia AU Warnings: dark themes, blood, guns, creepy evil guy. Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: You’re a second year med student taken in by the house of NCT. It’s not uncommon to be the last to learn things within the house but when your safety is threatened, you’re forced to leave home with no option. But it only makes things worse.

Part 1 || next ****

You don’t even take a second to think things through. Your rationality and sensibility gone out the door when the man mentioned Taeyong being unconscious. You could only puzzle all the things together. For Taeyong to be unconscious would mean the other guys were also in danger.

You clutched onto your phone, debating whether you should wake Lucas up or not but the warning to come alone rings in the back of your mind. You creak open the door and switch on your phone light, using it as a torch as you quickly slip on a proper shirt and pants. The keys for the car are on the nightstand beside Lucas. You tiptoe over, desperately trying to keep quiet while he sleeps completely oblivious. The idea to leave a note crosses your mind, by the time he wakes up you would be long gone, and who knows maybe this will be my last time seeing him.

But the vibration of your phone and the notification popup your screen shows brings you out of the thought.

Unknown number: I’m waiting.

The text leaves you sprinting out the room.

The drive home is completely silent apart from the swimming thoughts surrounding your mind. The freeway seems to be completely deserted, letting you speed down the straight road whenever possible. You don't realise how long has passed with your hands gripped on the steering wheel until the sudden ring on your phone causes you to jump.

You glance over at the Bluetooth mini screen displaying the caller ID, Lucas. The corner of the screen shows the time, 6:03am. The ring continues for over a minute and then disappears. The second ring coming through doesn't surprise you as he tries again. The thought to turn off your phone isn’t possible as the unknown number may call, so you reach for your phone and disconnect it from the Bluetooth of the car, switching it to vibration mode.

The guilt inside you begins gnawing in your stomach as you drive and your phone continues vibrating on the passenger seat beside you. As desperate as you were to answer, you didn't want to risk it, and besides, Lucas would be safer if he wasn't bought in.

Everything looks normal on the outside. None of the windows are smashed, the house seems to be stable, nothing looks like its collapsing. The house seems visibly fine but it's the dozens of unrecognisable cars along your street that's concerning. There’s at least 10 vehicles; vans and cars included.

Deciding it’s better to stay hidden for as long as possible, you take the back route, driving through a dirt road hidden by a KEEP OUT sign. You park a bit further back from the house to ensure the sound of the engine isn’t heard.

You sneak in through the back door, heading for the top floor of the house to check out the situation. The commotion in the living room indicating to you where everyone is. As you tip toe up the stairs, a loud roaring laughter comes from the floor below. You decide to take a peek, getting on your knees and crawling to the edge of the railings which overlook the living room.

The amount of people crowding in the living room makes it seem tiny. But you can easily pick out your members from the 20 or so individuals.

The first person you notice is Taeyong who seems to be barely conscious, his arms roped behind his back as he’s tied against a wooden chair, a man with a gun standing beside him. The rest of the boys stand behind with what looks like a gag preventing them from speaking, their hands tied by rope, faces bloody and bruised, a gun also resting at their heads. Your eyes can only glimpse at them, not baring to lay your eyes on anyone for too long.

It's a slight breath of relief knowing not all of them are here. You can only see a few of the guys which would mean the others were safe, at least that's what you hoped.

Jaehyun was standing in a pool of blood, the red seeping through part of his shirt on his right shoulder indicating a heavy wound. Beside him, was Yuta and Jeno. The swift glance over them letting you know none of them seemed visibly injured, apart from the stained clothing. The last person you noticed brought a gasp out of your mouth. Winwin was leaning against the couch for support, his hands left untied as he presses onto a bleeding patch on his lower abdomen.

Tears instantly form at the side of your eyes as you scramble back from the sight, making sure you’re unable to be seen before you start shaking, the fear now kicking in. Breathe, don't panic.

You crawl back forward, you had to see how many enemies there were. You had to think of something quickly, but the image of the scene below continues to invade your mind. There’s no time.

As your about to stand, making your presence known, a hand tugs you back down. The other hand of the person instantly whipping around your mouth to prevent the squeal that comes out.

“It’s me, Mark.” A whispered voice says into your ear. He feels you relax against his body before letting go and you turn to face him. He looks stressed, His eyes are red, the veins popping out while his shirt’s covered in colours of blood and dirt. “What are you doing here?” Mark asks, tugging you to the back of the wall.

The men from downstairs continue talking, deep rumbles of laughter invading your ears.

“I-I got a call.” You’re so relieved to see Mark. Even in this situation, seeing him and knowing he wasn't hurt was reassuring, “What happened?”

“I can’t explain this now; you have to leave.”

“Where’s the others? A-are they okay?” You ask, desperate to know.

“They’re fine.” He tells you, “Y/N listen to me.” He grips onto your shoulders, turning you to face him properly, “Johnny and Haechan are outside near your car. You need to leave okay.”

“I can’t just leave!”

“We’ll take care of things here.”

“That guy called me here.” You tell him, “He’ll let them go if I talk to him.”

“That bastard.” He mutters underneath his breath.

You know there’s no chance things can end nicely in this situation and you weren’t prepared to let anyone die today. But knowing the boys for so long, there was no way they would bring you into this. You can hear Mark as he turns around to whisper to the wall, presumably informing Johnny and Haechan about the situation through the ear pierce.

This would be your only chance to go down there alone. You prayed Mark wouldn't be stupid enough to follow you. It would be pointless for him to reveal himself alone. While he continued mumbling into the earpiece, you took a deep breath, preparing yourself. Now or never right?

And then you stood up properly, and walked down the stairs.

“Y/N!” Mark lets out a hissed whisper in surprise, attempting to grab onto your wrist but fails.

The noises stop from downstairs as a larger built man sitting directly in front of Taeyong stands up. His eyes now trained on you. You recognised him by his face.

You’d walked into the meeting room one time and they’d forgotten to hide the photos sprawled out on the table. You picked up the photos along with the file on the table out of curiosity. The file contained more images, graphic ones. There was a photo of a boy, perhaps 4 or 5 years of age, lying in a pool of blood in an empty room. The words NCT stained onto the wall behind the child.

At the time all you could remember was crying. You had bawled you’re eyes out, terrified of the people you were surrounded by. The file slipped out of your hands and all the contents flowed out. You remember gathering everything in a scurry, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand simultaneously. All the images were of different angles in that room. Except one.

There was a photo taken of an older guy. He looked like he was in his mid-teens in the image but his facial features were very distinct, including the scar under his left eye which ran across half his face.

The guy staring at you, was him. Your mind went around in a frenzy, trying to piece together the possibilities of what he wanted with you. Why is he here?

“Well, hello there.” The guy greets, beaming a crooked smile from his position. Taeyong instantly whips his head around to follow his gaze. His eyes widen immediately, his mind gone completely blank seeing you here.

You stopped moving at the bottom step. Scared to get any closer to the man who was now slowly approaching you. You looked past him, meeting Taeyong’s eyes. For the first time since you met him, since he bought you into this family, he looked terrified. He was covered in blood and his face losing the usual bright colour in his complexion. Taeyong was the only one without a gag, but he was weak right now and it was obvious he would be with the bath of blood underneath his chair. He was barely conscious.

The others only stared at you, Jaehyun, Yuta and Jeno who were too shocked to move. Winwin who was barely conscious.

“Run Y/N.” Taeyong whispers out, his voice inaudible to where you are. The guy approaching you whips his head around to Taeyong, letting a little grin wash on his face before nodding to his men standing silently on the side.

You watch in horror as the guys gather around the members, kicking them from behind the knees causing them to collapse. The members can only growl as they struggle with the binds behind their backs and the fabric preventing them from talking. As one of the unfamiliar guy’s approach Winwin you realise he had fallen into an unconscious state.

“Don’t!!” You scream out, just as the guy’s foot swings into the air. The guy stops, everyone’s eyes now trained on you.

The leader chuckles, as the man in front of Winwin looks over at his boss, and then looks at you. The leader gives a little nod and the man steps back, leaving Winwin on the floor. Your heart drops and you can feel the air seep out of you.

“It’s nice to finally meet you Y/N,” the guy says, now just a metre away, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Can’t say I feel the same.” You mutter out, taking a step back up the stairs, to distant yourself.

The guy in front you laughs, taking another step closer. “I just want to talk.”

“Let them go and I’ll talk” You offer, watching his expression carefully.

He lets out a hum and you think for a second, he’s considering your deal, but the snicker following seconds later lets you know his answer. “How about we have a talk outside? Where there isn’t such a big audience?” He purrs, closing the gap between the two of you as he brushes away the fallen strands of your hair. You turn to face the side, not wanting to look into his intimidating gaze. But he brings a finger to your lips, forcing you to look up at him as he speaks, “Just the two of us.”

“Fuck off.” You spit out, your saliva hitting him in the face. He steps back in surprise, eyes shut as he chuckles to himself. His men in the room stand silently, shocked at your behaviour towards their leader.

“What a pretty bitch.” He laughs, wiping his face roughly. You step back too late, as he leans forward grabbing your jaw harshly.

“L-let her go or I’ll kill you.” Taeyong growls out, his voice still weak. Your hands are gripping at the guy’s wrist on your jaw, trying to fight your way free.  

“You can try.” The man claims, turning around to face Taeyong.

“It wasn’t us.” Taeyong mutters out, his eyes closing shut as he tries to fight the pain from his gunshot wound.

“Really?” The guy asks, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He lets go of your jaw, stomping back towards Taeyong. “No one else knew about him except you Taeyong.” He spits out, jabbing a finger at Taeyong’s chest as he speaks. You watched as the guy visibly stats to shake, using more and more pressure as he jabs into the wound, “Only you knew him!”

For some reason, it seemed there was a deeper story between the two leaders, one which you had never learnt.

Mark who was still upstairs had called Johnny and Haechan in who were already at the back of the house for backup when you had gone downstairs. However, the three of them, now crouched at the railings, could only watch. Mark had called the members who were in the safe house, deciding they needed everyone to come to try even out the numbers at the very least before fighting back.

With just the three of them, there was no way they could win against the 15+ men downstairs. So all they could do was watch and wait, praying the members could hold on until then.

As the leader falls back onto his chair, exhausted at his outburst, you sneak a peek at the members’ injuries, finally being able to see the extent of damage from a much closer view.

Jaehyun seemed to be hiding his pain but the soft patter of blood droplets adding to the pool he was standing in needed to be attended to. Winwin was also losing too much blood and his unconscious state was making you panic. He needed help quickly, before it was too late. And there was also Taeyong’s physical state which was driving you insane.  

It’ll be too late to save them if they stay like this for any longer.

“I’ll go with you.” You tell him, breaking the conversation between the leader and one of his men. You walk over to him, ignoring the blood splatters on the floor and the eyes of the members burning into you. “But we leave now. All your men in this house, outside the house, the ones watching us from afar. Everyone.”

He stands up, brushing off his pants and walks to stand in front of where you stopped.

“You’re a brave girl Y/N.” He leans in, tilting his head to the side so his lips are right at your ear, “But you don’t get a say in this situation baby, you’ll be coming with me anyway.” He moves back to watch your face fall, searching your eyes for the horror expressions he feed off.

But you’re not scared, not shaking, not doing anything that he was expecting.

“Please.” You beg him desperately, throwing away all the confidence you had before. He watches you, amused at the sudden change of attitude, but it's a nice thing for him. So he accepts your offer. His plan had only been altered slightly so there was nothing bad in it for him.

Originally he had told one of his men to be ready to knock you out and take you, leaving the members of NCT to watch as you were taken from them. But you just made his life easier by willingly going.  

“Let’s go.” He commands, waving his hand at his guys to retreat.  “We’ll listen to the princess’s demands.” He snatches hold of your wrist, dragging your feet to follow after him as he heads towards the front door. “After all, it’ll be more fun like this.” He laughs, directing his words to Taeyong.

The man guarding the door opens it, letting the leader step through as you trail behind, your eyes glued to the people in the living room.

You take a last look at everyone. The pleading eyes everyone was staring at you with. You knew Taeyong would probably go crazy mad for a few days. But you had faith. Faith that they would be okay now and faith that there would be a way for you to return home. ____

A/N: i really should edit this and I will edit this tomorrow but for now GOODNIGHT. <3