#i forgot my keys this morning and am locked out of my place

[quietblissxx]

🙃

[dollieseo]

01. PAINT IT BLACK ⸻ DECEMBER 12TH, 2017

now playing. paint it black (epic trailer version) by hidden citizens

chapter summary. you’ve always avoided the world your father built. meeting minjeong, or winter, is the last thing you want. she’s cold and calculated, and she’s there to make you know that there’s no such thing as running forever.

chapter warnings. none

word count. 1.3k

you met kim minjeong officially when you were sixteen years old. everyone in and out of the organization know her as winter. she’s supposed to be “cold as ice” or some shit like that. honestly, you don’t care what her name is or what it means.

she works for your dad, apparently as an extremely skilled swordswoman, efficient enough in other aspects to be highly respected too. you try to stay as far away from your father’s work as possible. the only reason you were at his office that day was because you, in a rush this morning, forgot your keys at home before you left for school. until you get his set, you're locked out of the house. you’re expecting to get in and get out; take two minutes to pick up the keys, go home and take a goddamn nap. already feeling uneasy in the building of his workplace, your nerves intensify when you notice the figure sitting at your father’s desk isn’t your father in his office.

you pause when you see her, caught off guard by the unexpected interaction. you’ve never actually spoken to winter, but because of your father, you know about each other. you know her as your father’s second in command, despite being only sixteen herself. minjeong knows you because—well, everyone in the organization knows you. all your father ever talks about, that isn’t work related, is how much of an amazing addition to the organization you’ll be once you finally come around.

you won’t. you and him both know that.

clearly, your entrance catches her attention, her dark eyes piercing through yours. though you’re still caught in a moment of surprise, you don’t fail to notice how cold her eyes are. fitting for someone named winter.

you’re not at all surprised by her demeanor. you expect nothing less from someone your father views so highly, even while being a teenage girl. she, for sure, looks the part of a mafia executive.

you regain your composure, remembering your original task. standing straight, you break the sharp silence, “what are you doing in here?” you ask, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorway.

“i should be asking you that,” winter retorts, “considering you just barged in.” her voice was laced with snark and curiosity. your father never mentioned anything to her about calling you in. assuming you willingly came here on your own, she wonders why, knowing of your disdain for this “business”.

you shrug, simultaneously scrunching your face, “don’t think i really need to give you an explanation.” of course you don’t. you could basically run this place if you wanted to. “where’s my dad?”

winter watches your reaction with a quiet amusement, her eyes narrowing just slightly, as if she’s trying to analyze you. everyone she comes across is intimidated by her, but not you. maybe that’s what she finds so fascinating. the way you’re not playing along to whatever game she’s used to.

“he’s in a meeting, should be back in an hour.”

fucking great.

you shift your weight from one foot to the other, trying to hold back an exasperated sigh. there’s no way you want around here for sixty minutes. hell, even thirty would be pushing it. but, with no keys, it’s either wait here or wait outside in fifty degree weather.

your eyes flicker towards the door, then back to winter, who's still lounging in your father's chair like she owns the place.

"just my fucking luck," you mutter, voice dripping with sarcasm. "all i wanted to do was go home and sleep, but of course, here i am. stuck in this shitty building, waiting for my piece of shit dad, while his right-hand girl..." you glance at her pointedly. "...plays executive."

you don’t expect her to react, but she does. her lips curl into a faint smirk, just enough to let you know she’s listening. she doesn’t look offended, or even upset. she seems more... indifferent. like she’s used to people throwing jabs her way. the young brunette crosses her arms, leaning back in the chair. "it’s not as bad as you make it seem, you know," she says, her voice low. "boss man expects you to be here eventually. whether you want to or not."

you freeze, the words catching you off guard. not because of what she said, but because of the way she said it. you can feel her eyes drilling into you like she’s dissecting your every move, reading something deeper than just your actions. it's unsettling, to say the least.

"right," you mutter, suddenly feeling the weight of the situation settle deeper in your chest. "and you expect me to just... sit here and play nice? like this is normal?" you gesture between the two of you.

winter’s eyes shift towards the clock, then back at you. "i’m not asking you to do anything," she says calmly. "but you don’t really have much of a choice, do you?"

you open your mouth, but the words don’t come right away. you want to protest; snap back, to say something—anything that could shatter this strange assurance she’s has.

“get up,” you gesture with your right hand. winter cocks her head like a lost puppy, an eyebrow slightly raised. you can’t help but roll your eyes, feeling as if you’re speaking to a small child.

“out of the chair,” you growl, frustration with her shining through.

winter doesn’t move for a long moment. her eyes narrow slightly, studying you as if she’s trying to figure out whether you're serious or not. you stand there, waiting, arms crossed, refusing to back down. the air between you is thick with a strange kind of tension—like there’s a game being played, but neither of you knows the rules.

finally, with a faint sigh, she spins the chair back around, facing away from the desk. "you’re incredibly stubborn for someone who claims she doesn’t belong here," she mutters tiredly, no real malice in her voice. it’s more like an observation. you take a step closer, dragging your feet just enough to make the silence feel even more awkward. her body language is stiff, controlled, but you can’t help but notice the slight tension in her shoulders.

you slide into the chair, deciding not to comment on her conclusion about you. instead, you pull out your phone, checking the time. the silence between the two of you grows for moments way too long for your comfort, but you can feel her eyes on you, watching you with that cold, calculating stare that seems so in character to her.

that’s what winter seems like to you; a character.

“i don’t know why you think your father’s world is some sort of... inconvenience to you. you think you can just avoid it, pretend like it won’t eventually pull you in? that’s not how it works.” she watches you closely as she speaks, her eyes dark with something like amusement or pity—maybe both.

winter’s lips curl into a small as she goes on and on, recounting her experience in the organization like it’s something to be proud of, speaking about how she’s earned every inch of respect and every piece of responsibility. how she’s built a reputation that’s both feared and admired, how she holds power in ways most people don’t even understand. it’s sounds almost rehearsed, like she’s replayed every moment that got her here in her head every single day.

“you aren’t special yn,” winter continues, voice cutting through your silence. “you can’t just stay on the sidelines in a world that your father created, whether you asked for it or not.” she pauses for a moment, letting the words hang in the air, her gaze unwavering.

the casual way she speaks makes it all feel like a warning, but not the kind you expect. she’s not threatening you—she’s just telling you how it is.

you can’t tell if she’s trying to convince you to join her side, or if she’s just giving you a reality check. either way, it’s starting to feel a lot less like an innocent conversation and a lot more like a negotiation.

the air in the room feels heavier, like the walls are closing in, and you’re just one bad move away from being swallowed up in this twisted world you’ve been trying so hard to stay away from.

you think waiting outside might be a better idea.

[lvrsparadise]

'JEALOUS' - M.S

Synopsis - She's always liked him.

Warnings! - Profanity, kissing, reader being jealous, Matt n reader being cute, fluff

A/N - Okay. I want to kms because I had originally written out something so beautiful for this. And then I accidently deleted something, and I forgot that if I press control z it ERASES THE WHOLE DAMN THING! So, this is a re-write. Enjoy!

Work was so tiring. I got cut from the floor at 7 instead of 9, when I was supposed to get off, because I had no tables. I made barely $40 in tips. And not to mention the weird drunk creep who kept asking my co-workers and I, very uncomfortable questions. I sigh as I clock out of the system and grabbing my stuff before saying bye to my co-workers.

I walk out the back to my car. I open the driver door and throw my stuff in the passenger seat. I just sit there and recollect myself before I put the key in the ignition, turning on the car.

Thee drive back to my house was quiet. I didn't have the radio on, I didn't have the windows down. I wasn't even on the phone with anybody. Today was that stressful.

'I'm going to have to ask my maneger for more hours next shift.'

I pull into my driveway and grab my stuff, turning off the car and walking to my front door. I open it and am immediately bombarded by my puppy, Sam, and my cat Mr. Murray.

I set my stuff down on the couch before walking upstairs to my room. I get undressed and hop in the shower. After my very refreshing shower, I throw on some comfier clothes - a pair of pink and black plaid pajama pants, a white tank top, and one of Matt's hoodies he left over.

I flop on my bed with a sigh. I sit up and open my phone, opening my messages app before clicking on Matt's contact. Matt is my brother's best friend. Well, actually, Chris is my brother's best friend, but I learned that they're a package deal. Get one, get all.

1 ring. 2 rings.

"Hey. Everything alright?"

I breathe out a small sigh of relief at the sound of his voice.

"Hey. Yeah, no everything's fine. I've just had a stressful day and I was wondering if we could go for like a drive or something?"

"Yeah, no that's fine. I'll be over in 10."

"Okay. Thank you."

"Always."

That's the last thing I hear before the line goes dead. Knowing he's going to be here in less than 10 minutes, I slip on my converse and head downstairs.

I love on and play with Sam and Mr. Murray for about 5 or 6 minutes before I hear a car pull in my driveway. I instantly recognize it as Matt's car. I grab my wallet, just in case, my keys, and my phone, placing all of them in the pocket of the hoodie. I hear a knock at my door and Sam barks. I yell out his name to get him to stop barking as I open the door.

There he is. Looking perfect as ever. Even in sweats and a hoodie. He's wearing that damn smile. One I return gratefully.

"You ready?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

I close my door behind me as I walk out, locking it as well before I walk over to the passenger side of the car. I get in and so does Matt. He pulls out of my driveway and starts driving around with no destination.

"How was your day? Why was it stressful?" He turns is head towards me as we're at a red light.

"Well, I got cut from the floor early because we were dead, and I had no tables. I made barely $40 in tips. I also had to work with that one girl I told you about. She made the day ten times worse. And this morning, Sam thought it would be nice to wake me up with a surprise next to my bed." I rest my elbow on the center console, resting my chin on my hand as I look out the window.

"Yikes." I hear him say as the light finally turns green and we start driving again.

"What about you? Anything fun happen?"

"Chris almost like, broke the ceiling in the warehouse."

"How in the hell?"

"I have no idea; I wasn't around when it happened. But Nick was and he kept making jokes about it reminding Chris that he did it. It was hilarious." He chuckles quietly.

"I bet."

"Oh shit."

"Hmm?" I turn my head towards him, his gaze switching between the road and the dashboard behind the steering wheel.

"I'm almost out of gas. I think I have enough to get us to that 7-11." He jerks his chin towards a 7-11 that's not too far. It's dark out, not many cars are on the road, the gas station seems empty.

He pulls into the gas station, pulling up to a gas pump. He turns the car off after rolling down the windows a little bit. He gets out and walks over to the pump, which is next to me because for some reason, the gas tank is on the right side of his car instead of the left. So, as he fills the tank up, he's also leaning on my window, talking to me.

"Did anything interesting happen in your day though?"

"Um, let's see. Oh, there was this older gentleman who tipped me $25 for being the best server he's had. He was celebrating his anniversary, but he said that his wife had passed away a few years ago. So, every year on their anniversary, he goes out and gets himself a meal. It was so sweet, it almost made me cry."

"Wow. That does sound swe-"

He's cut off by a girl walking up to him, looking to be around our ages, maybe a year or so older. She's talking with hi and flirting with him. I feel my blood run cold with jealousy at the realization she's flirting. Matt's hand is like holding onto the window, his hand partially in the car. I take advantage of that and I somewhat intwine our fingers, my own mindlessly playing with his.

Either she can't see me through the somewhat tinted windows, or is openly ignoring my presence, she asks him out to dinner. I squeeze his hand and he squeezes mine back. I hear him say 'Oh, I can't sorry. My girl is in the car' and my heart skips a beat. Multiple beats actually.

He finishes filling most of his tank and pays before walking over to the driver's side as quick as he can speed walk without running. He turns the car on at lightning speed. He starts to drive off to my house.

The drive is silent. Other than the really quiet hum f whatever is on the radio, there is not a peep coming from either of us.

About halfway through the drive back to my house, he reaches his right hand over the center console and grabs my left hand, interlocking our hands before resting them on his thigh. My chest is filled with butterflies. My head is empty. I feel my face heat up as I turn to look out the window next to me.

We pull up to my house. As soon as he puts the car in park, I'm out the car and making a b-line for my front door, unlocking it in record time. I didn't realize Matt was hot on my heels until I turn to close the front door, his hand stopping it. I sigh in defeat knowing I won't win. He pushes the door open and then walks in, closing it behind him.

"Were you jealous?"

"What? I have no Idea what you're talking about Matt." I place my wallet and keys on a table I have next to the door for that reason. Of course, I was jealous, but I would never admit it out loud. Especially to the guy I was getting jealous about.

He shakes his head and crosses his arms "Wrong. Were you jealous?"

I roll my eyes slightly "Matt- I don't get why you're asking me this. It would be the same if it were me-"

"No, it wouldn't."

"Wha-"

"A guy touches you? Jealous. A guy flirts with you? Jealous. Takes you on a date? Kisses you? I'm jealous. I'm jealous as hell. How have you not known? I'm not very secretive about it at all. Now I'm going to ask you one last time. Were you jealous?" His voice, despite being stern and angry, it still is soft and kind.

I sigh in defeat, crossing my own arms, mirroring his pose. "Yeah. I was. I was very jealous."

There is nothing said after that. And there doesn't need to be. Next thing I know, I'm being softly pinned against the wall and Matt's hands are on me. One on my cheek and the other on my waist. I try to look at the hand on my waist but the hand on my face makes me look into his eyes. He doesn't say much, but words aren't necessary right now. He leans in and kisses me.

The kiss is soft, tender, sweet, and everything a hopeless romantic like myself could ever want. I entangle my hands in his hair, closing whatever space was between us.

After what felt like hours, but was really 20 seconds, we pull back for air. Both of us are panting.

"I'm taking you out Friday. 6:00. I pick you up, with flowers, take you to dinner, then I take you to a 7:00 movie, then we walk on the beach before I take you back home and kiss you goodnight. How does that sound?"

Although my eyes are still closed, I hear the smile in his voice, and at his words I can't hold back a smile of my own. I open my eyes and look into his beautiful blue ones that look like they're the ocean. I swear I get lost in them for a few seconds before replying.

"That sounds perfect."

I don't have a taglist for the Sturniolos!

If you want to be in it, all you have to do is ask! <3

I love all of y'all!

[miasmal-sweetness]

Here, Kitty, Kitty

NSFW - MDNI - 18+ ONLY

Graduation is near and I am ignoring health issues by writing hot trash. I put on fake nails for the first time in a literal decade so I have had to relearn how to type during this and I am going to blame that for why this is honestly Not Good and pretty sloppy.

This is absolutely my attempt to reclaim the pet name “kitty” for myself after my weird abusive ex ruined it for me years ago since that’s what he called me.

Here, Kitty, Kitty

Summary: yandere!Cloud x reader. 3.1k. Cloud finally has the perfect nickname for you, but you’ve gone missing. Don’t worry; your hero will save you, just like always.

Warnings: he calls you kitty, duh; reader is gender-neutral but has a vagina; smut; Cloud 100% kidnapped reader; bondage; noncon; suffocation/drowning

“I’m home, kitty.” That’s it. Short and sweet and it rolls off the tongue. That’s what you are—short, sweet, and you also feel great on his tongue. Cloud is certain you’ll love the pet name; his heart has skipped many beats every time he’s thought about it.

Cloud sets his sword down by the door, waiting to hear the usual signs of your presence. You two have been living together for a while now, and you’ve settled into a routine. By now, dinner will be ready, and you’ll be waiting for his return in the kitchen as you flip through a cookbook for the umpteenth time. But this time, he doesn’t hear your breath, your footsteps, the soft turn of pages, or you stirring a pot. It’s silent.

Cloud steps further in to his house. Were you asleep? You had tossed and turned a lot the night before; he wouldn’t blame you for needing a nap. He peers in to the kitchen and finds no sign of you, not a single dish out of place, like you hadn’t even eaten breakfast. The living room is similarly empty, even though the couch is where you usually take your naps. Maybe the rain outside disturbed you; there was a large window that overlooked the couch, so it could be a little loud and chilly there.

You’re not in the hall. You’re not in the extra room he’s let you slowly turn into your own space. His heart is starting to pick up the pace; if you aren’t in the bedroom, then—no. He can’t think that way. Cloud cracks the door open, just in case you really are sleeping, but throws it open when he finds that the bed is empty. Cloud takes a deep breath and runs his hand through his hair. There is one other place you could be, but not only did he keep it locked, you also hated it. The basement—a place you’d only go in to if he dragged you kicking and screaming.

It was storming, though. Maybe you found a way to get in and took shelter out of fear. Cloud left the bedroom after another glance, heading straight for the basement door at the end of the hall. Sure enough, the door was unlocked. He keeps the key on him at all times; there’s no way you swiped it off of him, since it’s still in his pocket. Maybe you found a way to pick it.

Either way, Cloud pushes the door open and makes his way down the stairs. “I’m coming down, kitty,” he calls, flipping on the lights. “Don’t be scared, okay?”

He knows before he even sees the basement that you’re not there. He can feel it, but he holds on to that bit of hope anyway. Hope matters little in this world, though. You aren’t there. The basement is empty. His gaze lands on the red silk that lies by the wall. Strong, tightly-woven silk that he brought home after you kept getting horrible rope burns and bruises when he tried cuffs. You were too weak to get out of it, but it didn’t hurt you, either. He wishes he had used it that morning.

One of the windows has been broken open, and your struggle is remembered by the shards of glass covered in your blood. The bars that covered every window were damaged on only this one, pried apart with a hammer from the toolkit he forgot to take back from you. You said you needed it to work on your sewing machine; it needed maintenance, but he didn’t have the time to supervise you or do it himself. What a dumb decision. He should have just stayed an extra thirty minutes.

Now you’re gone, probably lost somewhere out in the rain and possibly trying to fend off monsters. You aren’t a fighter. You were easy for him to drag here; so easy he wouldn’t have had trouble even without years of training and mako forced in to him. You’re probably scared, cold, and lost, wondering why he hasn’t saved you yet.

Of course, deep down, he knows that’s not true. You ran away. Pried off the prison bars keeping you caged, escaped the room he kept you in for a month and a half before he thought he wore down your will—the room he still brings you down to sometimes when you misbehave or something triggers his paranoia. Cloud knows all of this, but he’s good at ignoring it. You need him, whether you like it or not.

Grabbing the silk rope from the floor, Cloud trudges back up the stairs and grabs his sword. You can’t have gotten far. The house is way out in the countryside, where paths are limited; your bare feet are not going to move quickly or easily on the rocky terrain. He follows a fading trail of blood leading away from the broken window. He’s so focused on your trail that the feeling of cold rain pouring on him is barely noticeable; he only thinks about it when he realizes that you must be freezing.

He moves a little faster.

Eventually, the trail of blood stops, either because the wound clotted or the rain has washed it away. He hopes it doesn’t hurt to badly. He does. He does believe that—he’s tries to drown out the thoughts that insist that you deserve it for being such a brat, that this will teach you a lesson, that this is nothing compared to what he’ll do when he drags you back home. The thought of making you crawl over the broken glass you left behind in the basement is interrupted when he notices footprints left behind in the mud. They’re barely visible, but they’re there.

The footprints guide him to a few shrubs. Some strands of your hair are caught in the leaves and branches; he wonders if you were trying to crawl under them for shelter from the rain. Evidently, you gave up and tried taking refuge under a tree, but that must not have been good enough. Your trail leads right to a dying tree leaning against a small, rocky hill; a small source of relief from the rain. There are no prints leading out. You’ve barricaded yourself in with branches and leaves, mostly in an effort to stay hidden. He smiles at the childish attempt—he might be pissed that you left, but it’s adorable that you think that would be good enough.

“It’s just me,” he calls. “You can come out.”

No response. He doesn’t even hear you shift.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” he teases, circling your poor attempt at a hiding spot. “Come to me, kitty.”

You want to tell him to fuck himself. You want to stick your head out just to spit at him. Even though you know it’s over, though, you refuse to reveal yourself. He’ll have to drag you out by your ankles, something that you know he has no problem doing. If you can’t escape, you can at least make this difficult for him. You sink further in to your spot, batting your lashes to blink away tears and rain drops.

You’re dirty, bloody, sweaty, and drenched in rain. You have scratches going up and down your waist, legs, and arms. The soles of your feet are red and covered in scrapes. You just want to be able to cry in peace, but you’ll hold your breath until you pass out if it means he won’t get the satisfaction of hearing you.

“Come out, kitty. It’s okay; you’re not in trouble.”

Liar. You know the second you’re back at that house, he’ll be grabbing at you and crushing you and making you say you won’t leave over and over until you lose your voice and he’s satisfied. You knew the risk of leaving, and you decided at the time that it was worth it—but that was before the storm came and slowed you down. Your lips and fingers are already blue. You couldn’t keep going. You can’t keep doing this. All you have the strength to do right now is sit in silence like a pouting preschooler who doesn’t want to leave the park yet.

Cloud crouches down by your shelter. You wiggle away from him, casting your eyes to the ground. He reaches past the thorny branches you’ve barricaded yourself with, not even acknowledging the thorns that scratch his arms and leave blood in fresh red lines.

“Come on out, kitty,” he urges, holding out his hand to you. His voice is soft now, gentle; it reminds you of when you first met Cloud. He had been rough around the edges and awkward, sure, but you thought you saw a good heart behind it all. Sometimes you still did, when you saw his eyes go soft as he stroked your hair or kissed bruises that formed when you bumped in to the counter—when he’d bring you treats from outside, reminders of the life he took from you, with a look in his eyes that implied a quiet regret that he couldn’t voice. Somewhere in him, that sweet boy with those big blue puppy dog eyes is reaching out for you, asking you to stay with him after he’s already lost so much.

You give in. You’ve never been able to resist him—not when his eyes go soft and he looks like you just broke his heart. You take his hand and crawl out from your spot, seeking new refuge in his warmth. Even in the icy rain, he still runs hot. He wraps his arms around you as you miserably shiver and sniffle. This was a terrible idea. You never should have left. It was pointless, and only ended with the both of you upset.

Cloud’s hand moves down to your waist, and you hiss when his fingers brush over your scratches. He murmurs an apology as he examines your wounds. They’re shallow, just plentiful.

“You didn’t run in to any monsters, right? No other injuries?” he asks, running his thumb over dried blood that crusted on your hip.

“No,” you mumble, staring blankly at your bruised knees.

“Good.” He continues to contemplate your scratches, rubbing small circles in to your thigh. “Why did you leave, kitty?”

The new nickname finally hits you. Even in the cold, you feel a little warmer from it. You supposed it’s fitting—back in the sector, you made nightly rounds in the neighborhood to give snacks to the strays. Your heart sinks a little, and the bitterness of your situation claws its way back up your throat. Sure, he’s being sweet now, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s keeping you captive. “I wanted to go home,” you spit, lifting your head to stare venom in to those stupid big eyes of his.

“This—”

“No!” You pound your fists against his chest, even though you know it barely does anything to him. “That is not my home! You are not my boyfriend! I want to go home to my friends, to the sector, to the cats and my neighbors!” Each cry is punctuated by another thump of your fists against his chest, and he takes it all without even a wince.

“Kitty, don’t—”

You won’t let him get a word in edgewise. “Take me home!” you demand, unleashing your fury in the form of a flurry of weak blows to his chest.

Finally, he responds to your pathetic attempt at a tantrum. He grabs your wrists and holds them together with an infuriating amount of ease. His eyes aren’t soft and sparkly anymore. He doesn’t have that pout that you fall for so easily. His gaze is hardened, sharp, and focused entirely on you as he throws you on to your back. You grunt when your back collides with mud and your hair is soaked by a puddle.

“Listen, kitty,” he snaps, giving a harsh yank to your flimsy shorts. You try to scramble away, but he pins you in place with just his weight. “This is home now. You can either make it easy on yourself and accept it or you can keep throwing your tantrums, but it won’t change a thing. There is nothing for you back there.”

Your top is ripped off, torn in two and discarded in the mud. He doesn’t seem to care one bit about the dirt and mud you’re in, nor about the puddle that you keep trying to lift your head out of. “Th-that’s not true,” you sputter, forcing your legs shut with all the strength you can muster. “My friends—our friends—”

“Do you really think anyone even noticed that you’re gone?”

You fall silent at this, mouth agape. You had considered the possibility that no one noticed or cared, or that they quickly forgot about you and brushed you off when you never came back. But you always held out hope that they remembered and looked for you.

“You were just another body to them,” Cloud mutters against your neck. He’s running his hands up and down your body, between your trembling legs, as though nothing is wrong and he isn’t saying horrible things in your ear. “I took you away from that. Give you a home and everything you need. Keep you warm and safe… and you fucking run away?”

Your legs are forced apart, and you feel like a hot poker is being shoved in to you. You weren’t prepared in the slightest, but that doesn’t stop him from pounding in to you.

“Cloud, stop!” you cry, trying to wriggle away from him as he sucks on his favorite spot on your neck.

“Quit moving around so much,” he grumbles, finally stopping the brutal pace of his hips. The relief you get is brief and nowhere near enough; Cloud stops just long enough to turn you on your stomach, before resuming the same pace. With your face now shoved in to the muddy puddle below, he can enjoy himself without you saying things like “no” and “this hurts.” You can only guess that this isn’t one of the days he enjoys it.

Even though you’re half-drowning and you can vaguely hear him hissing obscenities and complaints, he still shoves his hand between your legs and plays with your clit. And it still feels good, no matter how much pain you’re in. When this nightmare first started, Cloud had been awkward and inexperienced. With plenty of practice, however, he found each spot you enjoyed, and which way was the best to pleasure you. The kind of knowledge and familiarity you’d only expect to grant a partner. He knew every inch of your body; it was mapped out in his mind better than anywhere in Midgar.

And you hate it, even as the warmth builds up in your gut. He grabs you by your hair and lifts your head to let you take in another desperate gasp of air, before shoving your head back in to the mud. This isn’t like him. Even on the days you’ve been a brat and he’s come home angry from whatever the hell he faced out there, he’s at least been apologetic while brutalizing you. Frantically telling you “sorry, I’m sorry” as he fucks your throat without concern for your gag reflex or chokes you from behind as he tries to bury himself as deep as possible inside of you.

There are no apologies. The closest relief you have is the brief gasps he allows you to take, and it’s still nowhere near enough. Your eyes burn and are covered in a haze. You can feel the pressure inside of you building; the lack of oxygen only seems to make it more intense. He lifts your head just to hear you moan and sigh. He knows every sign of your orgasm—the shake of your leg, the way your core tightens, the feeling of you contracting around him.

“That’s it,” he breathes as you writhe in pleasurable misery. “Say my name, kitty.”

You obey without question. Whatever will get this over with—and his fingers away from your clit. “Cloud,” you whisper.

“Say ‘thank you, Cloud.’”

If it weren’t for the lack of oxygen and orgasm turning your brain to mush, you would have put up a fight. But there’s no point to it now. “Th—thank you, Cloud,” you manage to croak, struggling to speak past the hand around your throat and his increasingly frantic pace. You hear him groan against your ear.

“More,” he demands. His voice is breathy and agitated; he can’t tell you exactly what he wants to hear, but you can hazard a guess.

“Thank you for—f-for saving me,” you eke out, squeezing your eyes shut. The high of the orgasm is fading, replaced by pain from overstimulation and the tears he created inside of you. Still, you’ll savor the oxygen he’s letting you have. “Thank you for… f-finding me—I was lost and needed you.”

Of course that’s what he wants to hear. Another groan, and he rolls his hips against yours as you feel his cum spill out of you. Cloud rocks his hips against you as he rides out the last of the high; he wants to savor every last moment inside of you. You don’t dare complain. He’s letting you breathe, and the pain isn’t as bad as before, at least.

You fall back in to the mud when he releases you, your arms barely able to move in the clumsy motions you manage in a late attempt to catch yourself. You struggle to push yourself up and roll away from the puddle, panting as water drips from your face. You hurt. You want to cry. And you feel Cloud lifting you up by your arms.

“Let’s go home, kitty,” he says in that gentle, low voice. All malice is gone. The sadism that had been in his eyes just moments ago is gone, the only evidence of it being the mud on your skin and cum dripping down your thighs. “You can have a bath to warm up when we’re back. You should feel better then.”

You don’t fight when he sweeps you off your feet. You don’t fight when he rinses you off and sets you in a tub of warm water. And you just watch as he fixes the broken window, reinforces the bars, and boards them up to keep you from getting any more ideas. You’re tied up in a pile of blankets on the floor, his attempt at softening the reality of your confinement. You’ll be down in that basement for at least a week, until he decides it’s safe to let you out again. You should have known he’d keep his promise—he’d always come to your rescue.

[oldwritingm]

Heyyy:))) I love your wir ihn soo muchhhhh and I wanted to ask if u could write a story Kyle x fem reader so basically she’s like sitting in a park at night and Kyle comes from sport or idk and meets her and they know each other from school and they like think they other one is cool and so they talk and her parents are not home and she can’t come home cause she has no key and that’s why they go to his home and she sleeps at the couche (his parents aren’t home ) but there’s a thunderstorm so she comes to Kyle and they sleep together in his bed ( NOT sexually) just cuddling 😍

Here you are my dove!

Word count: 1k

South Park - Staying at Kyle’s House During a Storm

You crossed your arms, huffing. You watched your breath—coming out as steam in the cold—float and fade into oblivion. Man, what am I going to do…

You were snapped out of your rumination at the sound of your name. You turned around to see Kyle Broflovski, a boy from your school, approaching the picnic table you were sitting at.

“Y/n, right?” He confirmed, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that’s my name. And you’re Kyle, right?”

He nodded with a little grin. “We have a few classes together, I think.”

“Oh, yeah. You’re the one who always knows the answer to every question. Honestly, I'm a little jealous,” you chuckled.

“Really? Most people just think I'm a nerd for that.”

“I think it’s cool.”

“Thanks, I guess. You’re pretty cool too.”

Then, glancing at the setting sun, he asked: “What are you doing out so late? It’ll be dark soon.”

You sighed. “I’m locked out of my place. My parents are on vacation and I completely forgot to get my key before they locked the house.”

Kyle hummed, going quiet. You fell back into your thoughts. Maybe I have enough money for a crummy motel or someth—

“You could come to my place,” Kyle suggested.

“Huh? Oh, I could never—I mean, I wouldn’t want to intrude or anything.”

Kyle waved his hand dismissively. You weren’t sure if it was just the cold, but you swore his cheeks went a bit pink. “It’s not a big deal. You could crash on the couch.”

You were about to decline again, but you noticed dark clouds churning on the horizon, and suddenly you were inclined to accept.

Luckily Kyle’s house wasn’t too far from the park. On the way there he entertained you with a rather humorous story from after-school tutoring. Apparently, the guy he was tutoring chewed his pen so hard that it exploded, dyeing his whole mouth black.

You giggled, imagining with pity the poor kid brushing his teeth relentlessly when he got home.

When you reached Kyle’s house, you decided to return the favor with a story of your own while you both sat on the couch. It just so happened that Kyle’s mother was in the kitchen as you told the story, and it tickled her so well that she came in to introduce herself. Learning about your predicament, she was more than glad to have you over for the night, and even invited you to eat dinner with the family.

Needless to say, the evening went quite well. When it was finally time to turn in for the night, Mrs. Broflovski piled you with so many quilts that you didn’t think you’d be able to move until morning. You could see Kyle trying not to laugh from where he stood in the stairwell. You shot him a discreet playful glare, which earned a little smirk from him as he turned to go to his own room.

You couldn’t have been asleep for longer than two hours when a soft hiss woke you up. It seemed that the rain clouds you saw earlier were fulfilling their promise of a storm; the hiss was coming from the shower outside.

You wriggled under the quilts, repositioning yourself before trying to get back to sleep.

A loud boom rattled you suddenly, and your eyes flew open. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you desperately heaved yourself out from your cozy entrapment and dashed up the stairs. You didn’t even think; you just ran, and in a moment you found yourself in Kyle’s room.

He was already awake, propped up on his elbows while he looked at his window. His head turned when you entered.

“What’s up?” He rasped sleepily.

“Th-the storm,” you stammered, quivering with adrenaline.

“Yeah, it’s getting crazy out there.” Then, realizing what you probably meant, he asked if you were afraid of it.

You nodded vigorously.

Kyle looked at the window, contemplating. “You wanna stay in here?” He was grateful that you couldn’t see the color on his face in the darkness.

You nodded again, a little slower. You looked around for a blanket, planning to sleep on the floor beside Kyle’s bed, but you were surprised to see him sit up fully and scoot towards the wall. He patted the mattress beside him.

You hesitated, but a flash of lightning made you lunge under the covers. You clapped your hands over your ears, already dreading the horrible noise.

Kyle was readjusting the blankets when the crash of thunder reverberated through the house. Small yips escaped both of you, and at the same time you grabbed each other.

With Kyle’s arms around you, and your hands clasping the fabric on his chest, you were both frozen, anticipating the next boom. You didn’t even have time to be embarrassed at this sudden intimate display; less than ten seconds later, another rumbling boom sounded.

You stayed like that for a long time, squeezing anxiously together, moving ever so slightly closer at each noise. You weren’t sure when exactly, but eventually you fell asleep.

When you woke up in the gray morning light, the first thing you noticed was the silence; more specifically, the absence of the hissing rain. You breathed a sleepy sigh of relief. The storm was over.

The next thing you noticed was the pajama shirt that your face was mushed into. You stared at it blankly as you tried to recall whose it might be.

“You awake?” The cracking morning voice of Kyle Broflovski filled your ears. Your face instantly went ten shades darker.

“Um, yeah.”

Kyle hummed, letting out a slow breath that seemed to show that he was still half-asleep himself. You pushed away a little, but his arms tightened around you.

“No, not yet. You’re warm.”

So are you. You thought assentingly, deciding that it couldn’t hurt to lay like this a little longer. At least until Mrs. Broflovski called you down for breakfast.

“Hey, Kyle?”

“Hm?”

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Staying with me.”

“Oh. No biggie.”

“Still.”

He didn’t respond; he had fallen back asleep. With an amused smile and pinkness lingering on your cheeks, you decided to follow his example.

Thank you for this request! And thanks for reading, have a good one loves <33

(divider by saradika)

[tom-whore-dleston]

Love Changed the Minds of Pretenders

Pairing ▹ Bucky Barnes x gn. reader

Word Count ▹ 1k

This fic contains ▹ angst, fluff, songfic, unestablished relationship, mentions of sex, mentions of Joaquin x reader, mutual ending of relationship, light beta reading (even though there are no explicit mentions of adult themes, I do not want minors or blank blogs interacting with this fic)

Summary ▹ Do you remember | The 21st night of September?

Notes ▹ I should be asleep right now because I have work at 7am but I just had a random burst of creativity and I needed to let it out. Anyways, this is my submission for @bucks-and-noble Summer Send Off. Thank you @buckets-and-trees and @sgt-seabass for creating this challenge and refueling my love for Bucky. And a special shoutout to the book club! I am so happy I met y'all and I am beyond grateful for the bond we have created 💖 Fun fact: This is my first ever Bucky fic woop woop!! Remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed! 😊

Prompt ▹ use a lyric [from September by Earth Wind and Fire] as direct inspiration for a theme/idea

September 21, 2022. 10:02 pm.

The night you met Bucky Barnes. 

Of all places, you met Bucky at a bar. The same bar where your friend performed their first live show and they invited you to watch. You weren’t expecting to meet anyone that night. Your heart had been broken only a few weeks prior. 

Everyone thought: Was he a rebound? A distraction?

No. He was so much more than that. It could have been easy to feel that way fresh out of heartbreak. Even more so when outsiders were constantly questioning what you and Bucky really were. But there was clearly a reason Bucky showed up in your life after this period of hurting. 

Bucky gave you love and security. He made you feel safe when he took you to the movies, when he made love to you, when you slept peacefully in his strong arms. You always thanked him for the things he did to make you feel secure and loved. He’d reply with his typical phrase, “I’m glad I make you feel that way.” 

He welcomed you into his home, his life, and his heart after many years of keeping the door locked and the key tucked away. Waking up and stroking your face before pressing a kiss to your dry lips was something that made your love for him stronger. Then after an hour or so of getting tangled between the sheets, you both would jump in the shower, gently caressing one another with soapy hands. Breakfast with Bucky was another tender ritual that you cherished. Whether it was at 10 in the morning or 1 in the afternoon, you never skipped breakfast with him.

He challenged your negative thoughts and beliefs. You and Bucky would stay on the phone until 3 in the morning talking about the universe, aliens, and other conspiracy theories. The two of you would ponder on the purpose of your lives and the ways of the universe. One thing you both were certain about was that you wanted your lives to be fulfilling and meaningful. Your world expanded and bloomed with beauty and wonder because of him. You wanted to be better and so did he.

Bucky made you believe in love again. And you made Bucky believe in love again.

As the months passed, everything was splendid. Perfect, even. But with perfection, there’s always something lacking. Of course, you wouldn’t have seen what was lacking if it slapped you in the face.

After 10 months of dating Bucky, you finally revealed your love for him. Now, Bucky wasn’t the type to say it. Heck, he didn’t even say “I love you” to his sister unless she said it first. Yet that wasn’t a deal breaker because he expressed his love in other ways. 

“I love you, too. I know your feelings for me are strong, but I don’t know if I can give you what you want.” 

It was understandable. He did mention in the beginning that he wanted to casually date. You forgot that you wanted the same thing. Man that felt like such a long time ago. Time really does fly when you start to fall in love. And hard you fell.

You hid your disappointment by making more excuses as to why being committed to Bucky would not be in the cards. First, there was the long distance. Then, there was the uncertainty about both of your futures. For a couple that talked a lot about your ambitions, you both lacked the confidence in where you would go in life. As the list of reasons piled up, there was one that made your brain fuzzy and your heart swell.

That reason was Joaquin Torres.

You met Joaquin through your cousin. There was an instant attraction between the two of you yet neither of you pursued each other. If you had gone for Joaquin, you would not have created the world you had with Bucky. So when your feelings for Joaquin grew stronger than your feelings for Bucky, you knew you had to take action before someone got hurt. 

Contrary to your belief, no one got hurt. You were transparent with Joaquin about your status with Bucky, and he understood. When you revealed to Bucky your feelings for Joaquin, he too understood. 

“Listen, angel, I know you. You know what you want in your life and you don’t let anything get in the way of that. I do love you, but who am I to stand in the way of living the life you want. You’ve let people tell you how to live your life for so long and now it’s my turn to stop that cycle. If this is what you want, don’t let me stop you.”

You and Bucky shared beautiful memories over the 10 months of being together, but the words he said to you on August 8, 2023 will always be ingrained in your brain for the rest of your life. That night was the last time you spoke to him and saw his face, even though it was over a video call.

“I’m grateful for having you in my life,” you confessed to him, trying not to cry. You couldn’t figure out if it was because you were surprised this conversation went way better than you thought or because you were saying goodbye.

Bucky grinned, “No need to get all sappy on me, angel.” You shared a final laugh together. “Well, if you ever find yourself in the city, you know where to find me.”

Part of you wanted to make a joke about how you’d run into him at the bar where you met, but you stopped yourself. Instead, you replied:

“You got it, Buck.”

And that marked the end of you and Bucky. 

You and Bucky’s love was never meant to fail. Yet it was never meant to succeed. Perhaps it was just meant to simply exist. 

But who knows, maybe that fateful night in August was not the end. Only time could tell. That was the beauty of time and the universe. You can plan and make certain choices, but ultimately, the universe will lead you to where you’re meant to be.

Now, it’s September 21, 2023. No, Bucky is not in the picture, but your thoughts are with him. 

Do you remember? Yes, you remember. You always will.

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[pleasinghellfire]

Locked Out

summary: getting locked out of your home in the pouring rain, tom let’s you stay the night at his place

word count: 750

All Rights Reserved.

a/n: i got this idea listening to an eddie shifting audio, click here to listen. the audio is also on spotify, click here for that link. i absolutely love these ambience audios. even tho this audio is eddie, i imagined being with tom listening to the rain. i hope you enjoy!

By the time you were finished cleaning out the last trailer for the newest tenants, it was well into the night and you were tired. You pushed your hair away from your face and looked out the window. You can barely see the outside lights as the heaving pelting rain blurred the world around you.

You sighed, knowing you were going to get absolutely soaked the second you opened the door. You decided to just leave your basket of cleaning supplies in the trailer and pick it up early in the morning before the new family moved in. You pulled the hood of your coat above your head and zipped it all the way up to shield you from the rain and chilly wind.

You braced yourself, giving yourself a pep talk before opening the door and running out into the heavy rain. You were immediately drenched and the cold air traveling from the ocean wasn’t making it any better. You quickly turned left and ran through the park towards your own trailer, trying to keep your head down.

After making your way up the steps of your home, you patted your pockets trying to find your keys. You let out a loud groan when you remembered you left your keys on the desk back in the main office on the other side of the park.

You were too wet, cold, and tired to try and run to the office for your keys knowing that Shirley had already locked up for the night.

You turned your head and saw blue lights illuminating from Tom’s trailer. You quickly ran to his window and saw him leaned against the back of his couch, watching whatever was on TV and chewing on a piece of chocolate candy. Knocking on the window, Tom jumped and saw your head poking from the bottom of the window, not quite tall enough to see through without standing on your tippy toes. You pointed your finger to his door and he rushed to open and let you in.

You barged through the door the second you heard him click the lock. “For fucks sake, I am so cold.”

“Bloody hell! What are you doin’ out in the rain like that?” Tom talked at the same time as you.

“They made me cl-clean out the trailer f-for the new folks tomorrow but I-I forgot my keys back i-in the main hall.” You shivered.

“Do you want me to get it open for you?” Tom started to make his way towards his raincoat but you stopped him.

“No! You can’t. It’s pouring badly out there.” Tom nodded his head okay. “Do you mind if I just spend the night here? I don’t think the rain is gonna stop.”

Tom nervously cleared his throat. “Yeah, umm, yeah. Let me just get you a change of clothes.”

Tom walked to his bedroom and grabbed a pair of bottoms and a thick jumper to keep you warm from the top shelf. He gave them to you, telling you there was a towel in the bathroom you can dry off with.

Quickly peeling off your submerged clothing, you dried off your body and squeezed the remaining water from your hair. You changed into Tom’s clothes immediately becoming warmer.

You walked back to Tom, pulling the sleeves of his jumper over your hands and sat near him on the couch. The changing lights from the TV was the only source of brightness in these early hours of the night. The sound of the rain was getting hard and hard against the roof of the warm trailer.

“Thank you.” You whispered. “For letting me stay here.”

“Are you still chilly?” Tom noticed you were still shivering. Even in the warmth of new clothes and the heater starting to run through the small home, you still had tremble in your hands.

You nodded your head. Tom motioned for you to come closer to him. You curled your body in the side of him as he draped the large blanket across the both of you, caging all the warm under the blanket.

You rested your head against his chest as one of his hands rubbed your leg that laid across his and his other hand softly played with your hair. Listening to the faint sound of a song playing through the TV and the rain from outside pulled you into a trance as you fell asleep against Tom.

[nxathyx]

Hiiiii! Could I request when tecchou’s s/o’s love language is worrying to mucho for him?

I legit forgot an inbox exists sorry for being late <33

Gn!reader x Tecchou Suehiro

Tw: cursing, mentions of reader pulling all nighters, other than that it's just fluff

°he'd definitely be a bit confused why you're so worried

"tecchou, im worried about you, you've been away from home a lot more"

"im the strongest hunting dog you needn't worry🙂

°if you cook for him because you're worried about him not eating enough he appreciates it so fucking much like oh my lord

° would definitely be worried if you stay up late at night and wait for him to get back from work

° would hug you and apologise for being away and worrying you too much

° whenever he's away he texts you every single day or calls you just to tell you he's indeed alright

° would get worried about you worrying about him too much

° 100% tries to reassure you on a daily basis that he is okay, however he'd be lying if he said he didn't appreciate how much you worry about him

° would definitely allow you to bandage his wounds if it makes you feel better

° at first he tried just not telling you how badly he was injured during a mission but after some time he realised it caused you to worry even more so now he's open about it with you, showing you the scars and trying to reassure you that he's fine and has a high durability

° okay if you're also a hunting dog I just imagine everyone looking at you two like "🤨😐🙁😒

"you could've gotten hurt, you idiot. Do you not realise how worried about you I was?"

"im sorry, my love. But I'm here with you now, aren't i? I'm alright, not even a single injury"

"can you two like.. Stfu??"

You and Tecchou have been dating for quite a bit now. He's a hunting dog causing him to be away from home more often than not, which leaves you worried and stressed about his health, both mental and physical.

The clock was about to trike 1 am as you were sat on the couch, drinking a cup of coffee, wearing one of Tecchou's basic white t-shirts as you enjoyed the taste of the bitter liquid running down your throat. You didn't know when Tecchou would come home, and that thought worried you even more as you're leg started bouncing up and down slightly in anxiety as you continued to await your lovers arrival. You looked back at the clock.. 1.34 am. And he's still not back, by this point you finished your cup of coffee as you stood up from the sofa to go and rinse the cup out, deciding you'll just leave it in the sink and wash it in the morning, as you were leaving the kitchen you heard the front door getting opened with the house key, happily and excitedly you walked over to the door, basically throwing yourself at Tecchou as soon as he closed the door behind himself.

"hm.. Why aren't you in bed yet? I think I told you to not wait for me all night long again" he said a bit quietly, he seemed tired as his arms wrapped around your waist, his palms resting on your lower back

"i know, I'm sorry. I just couldn't help but worry about when you'd get back" you replied looking at him before frowning slightly. "you look exhausted.. C'mon let's go to bed" you said as you grabbed Tecchou's fingers, leading him up the stairs into your shared bedroom, taking his hat and cape off of him, placing it on a random chair

Tecchou just smiled a little and complied before taking some clean pijamas and going to the bathroom to change into them, coming back a bit later to see you already sat in your bed, just waiting for him to accompany you. He layed down beside you, placing his head on you stomach, as one of his hands went to your hip, he sighed contently as he felt your hand go into his hair and playing with the brown locks, making him close his eyes.

"you worry me too much.."

"i know.. I'm sorry dear" there was peaceful silence for a bit before he spoke quietly "I love you" he said taking your other hand in his, bringing it closer to his mouth as he placed delicate, Angel like kisses on the back of your hand, fingers, and knuckles.

"i love you too"

[strawberryys-stuff]

𝘿𝙄𝙎𝙍𝙀𝙂𝘼𝙍𝘿𝙀𝘿 | Percy Jackson x Ares!oc

Introduction

The midnight blue umbrella snapped closed, releasing a gravity defying plume of small droplets. The defeated elementary school student pulled down her hood and tucked a lock of red hair that barely reached her shoulder blades behind her ear.

After she leaned the overflowing cloth bag of groceries against the brick wall beside the entrance to the block of flats that she had recently moved into with her step-family, Alexis shrugged her rucksack off her aching shoulder to fish her keys out of the front pocket.

"Crap," the redhead squeezed her dusty teal eyes shut and threw her head back with a groan, "not again.."

She pulled out her dying cellphone and unlocked it, sighing. Alexis dialed her step-brother while she was collecting her stuff from the muddy ground and blew strands of hair out of her face.

"Hugo?" she called out to her sibling when the obnoxious ringing got replaced by awkward silence. The young boy on the other side of the line hummed as he rubbed one of his squinted eyes and stifled a yawn. "Could you come down? I forgot my keys."

Hugo grumbled and pinched the bridge of his nose, slightly annoyed. "Come on, Alex.."

"I know and I am sorry, okay? Just-" the red-haired student exhaled heavily and glanced to the side- "come get me, alright? I'll make you a cup of hot chocolate in return," Alexis suggested.

"With marshmallows, though."

She pursed her chapped lips, unamused, but had to agree with his request in the end because she did not want to turn into a popsicle before the eyes of the entire neighborhood.

Alexis chewed on her bottom lip as the early humid autumn breeze swept past and tickled all the exposed spots of her pale skin. She continued to shiver and grew impatient.

"I will murder that boy," Alexis stated with a sarcastic smile as she searched in her jacket pocket for her cellphone once more.

While she was entering the password, a boy her age approached the entrance to the block of flats with earphones in his ears and a skateboard in his hand. Unlike Alexis, the blonde hadn't forgotten his keys at home before he left for school that rainy morning.

The jingling of keys startled the frustrated girl. She stumbled backwards with a shriek when the boy appeared out of thin air beside her. He was taken aback by her reaction, also flinched and dropped his keys in the process.

"Shit!" Alexis covered her rapidly beating heart with her ice-cold hand, her breath sharp and fast.

"My bad," the blonde apologized with a quick nod her way and bent down to pick up his keychain. He inserted one of his many keys into the keyhole, unlocked the door and held it open for Alexis to walk into the warmth of the building.

"Thank you." She bowed her head and gladly stepped out of the autumn weather with the boy on her heels.

The blonde pulled down his drenched hood in the lobby and shook his hair to gain some life back into his messy and undefined curls. With her adventurous spirit and undying curiosity, Alexis searched for his eyes and when their gazes collided, her jaw went slack.

"Oh.." The boy breathed out and scratched the back of his neck after he connected the dots and put a name to her imperfect face. "It's you."

Alexis laughed nervously and shrugged her shoulders. "Yep, it is me! The girl you spilled your apple juice on at lunch.."

"It was an accident," he clarified, "I swear!"

Alexis arched one of her eyebrows at that and looked down at her outfit. Instead of her favorite light blue jeans, she was wearing baggy gray sweatpants along with a black T-shirt that did not belong to her, but to the boy standing in front of her.

After he spilled his drink and some of his leftovers on her clothes, the blonde offered her his clothes, which he planned to change into for his PE class.

"I really didn't mean to-"

"Hey." The redhead placed her hand on his shoulder to stop his upcoming rambling with a tiny smile on her lips. The boy screwed his mouth shut. "I am just messing with you, blondie."

Her smile was contagious. She also had dimples, he noticed. "Yeah," he chuckled and shyly broke their eye contact, his cheeks flushed, "okay."

His gaze trailed a tad bit lower, to the handmade necklace she had around her neck - a thin leather string with three differently colored balls. It looked familiar, he was sure he had seen it before.

"Well," Alexis broke the awkward silence and adjusted the cloth bag that hung loosely on her shoulder. "I have to go.."

"No yeah-" the blonde shook his head slightly and brought his pure blue gaze up- "of course."

"Thank you for the clothes by the way," Alexis gestured to his gym class outfit with a smile. "I will give it back on Monday if that's okay."

"Sure, yeah. Whenever it's convenient for you."

"Okay.." She nodded and bit the inside of her cheek. "See you on Monday then?"

"Yeah.. See you on Monday.."

They shared one last awkward smile before she turned to the elevator and disappeared behind its doors.

The blonde squeezed his eyes shut, regretting that he decided not to follow the red-haired girl he found quite intriguing into the elevator. He was captivated by her playing the electric guitar and musical talent in general.

Alexis Driscoll was a hot-tempered, mysterious and brutally honest elementary school student with a passion for music, who also lived in the same block of flats as Percy Jackson.

Percy could tell she had an enormous amount of secrets and trouble hiding behind her in her shadow, but that was one of the reasons why she had caught his eye.

He didn't know her name nor why her cool grey gaze seemed to be something he would recognize anywhere in a heartbeat, but he knew one thing..

she had been haunting his dreams for quite a while.

How did he know?

Percy Jackson would recognize that necklace blindfolded.

That piece of handmade jewellery was what he had been wearing around his wrist in every dream and every spine-chilling nightmare of his.

For some unexplainable reason, Alexis Driscoll was the key to most, maybe even all, of his unanswered questions.

[moka44]

Bear's girlfriend punching Jackie for him.

(Bear x native/mexican f!reader) A/n: this will take place season 1 ep 2. This is my first story so please be kind, its also 3 in the morning for me so if it didnt come out good thats also why lol. But I hope you enjoy.

TW: A lot of swearing

One minute Bear was walking down the alley, the next minute he was done getting jumped by Jackie and her gang, soon waking up to seeing a spirit, ”Aho! Young warrior!” Bear heard. After everything, Bear couldn't help but walk in pain to the one place he knew he can alway go to. As Bear arrived he knocked on the door until his eyes met beautiful dark brown eyes, he could stare at them all day and those eyes belonged to his beautiful girlfriend.

“Oh dios mio! Bear what the hell happened?” you asked. You made him sit down on the couch and closed the door. “Fucking jackie and her crew.” Bear said as he rested his body on the couch while putting his head up. “That puta!” you responded. You sat down next to him,setting the first aid kit on the coffee table that was in front of the both of you.

You started cleaning Bear's nose, he couldn't help but think how lucky he was to have you. How you are always there for him when he needs it, to the time they spend with each other, the way you laugh, how you speak full spanish when you are pissed even though it does scare him, he still loves that about you. How your long black wavy hair is always soft. How you teach him how to cook your favorite Mexican food. Remembering when he first saw you, when someone mentions you he always thinks about how beautiful you are. He can tell you anything but of course you are going to tell him what you think but he loves that about you, how you are honest with him and will tell him if he was in the wrong. When he told you about Daniel, you pulled him into a hug and let him cry his heart out. 

“What are you thinking about in that head?” Bear hears you ask him as you finished cleaning his nose. “Just how lucky I am to have you in my life.” he said, putting his arms around you and pulling you closer to him. “Oh really?” Y/n giggled looking at him while you put an arm around his neck gently as your other hand is on his chest. “Yup and thankful for having you in it too, because if i didn't then i would be at the hospital right now.” Bear said, grabbing your hand that was on his chest kissing it. Bear looked over at you leaning in to kiss you. You can tell he put all his emotions into that kiss, you can feel it all. You pulled away to catch some air putting your forehead into his. “But you know you still have to go to the hospital, mi oso. That was actually where I was going to meet you guys before you got here. But just because I cleaned the blood from your nose doesn't mean it's not bad.” you told him.

“My mom going to freak the fuck out.” Bear said, sitting up and sighing. “I know but you still have to go babe.” you told him rubbing his back trying to comfort him. You soon get up from the couch going to the kitchen, grabbing some water and tylenol for him. You hand him the water with the tylenol, “This should help with the pain.” you said. He drank the tylenol with the water, after he was done he handed it back to you saying thank you. You set the glass in the sink, soon grabbing your keys, “ ready to go?” you asked him while holding your hand out. Bear looked at your hand, grabbing it while you both walked out the door. After you locked your door, the both of you got in your car and made your way to the hospital.

You both arrived at the hospital seeing Elora, Willie jack and cheese, as you both said what's up to them. You helped bear check himself into the hospital, “ill be right back, i forgot my mom asked me to get her some snacks for lunch, do you want anything?” you asked Bear but he shook his head no. As you were in the store getting snacks you noticed a black car that looked really familiar, so you hurried to the register to pay then left. When you got back to the hospital, you saw Bear outside with Elora and Willie jack, “What did the Doctor say?” you asked, “Well he basically asked if he can get with mine or your mom but other than that its not broken.” Bear replied. “That good it's not broken” you said, hugging him. Bear hugged you back but soon let go so you can take the snacks inside. You asked Bev to give the stuff to your mom, handing her the bag.

You went back outside and made your way to the group hearing Bear, “The fuck is this?”, “Fucking nerve, man, leaning on your car. Trying to act solid” Willie Jack said to Elora. You couldn't help but feel the anger you had earlier when Bear first came to your house with his busted nose. You couldn't help but think ‘im going to beat this bitch up’.” Where the fuck is Cheese? Let’s do this then, ”Bear said. “Yo, what's up, motherfuckers?! Oh, you guys were so fucking sick when you jumped me by my fucking self.” Bear said, walking up to Jackie and her crew. You and Willie jack both started taking off your guys' earring walking behind Bear. You notice your mom and bear mom Rita came outside to break everything up. After they did Officer Big came out to stop everything but as everyone was walking away Jackie said “Go on, mama’s boy take your little girlfriend with you.”.

That made you snap, “Jackie” you said making her turn around, you ran towards her punching her in her face knocking her down. “That's what happens when you jump my boyfriend. Estupida maldita perra. Te golpeare el culo, pruebame otra vez perra.” you told her that as your mom pulled you back before Jackie could do anything. "Holy shit." Bear thought, he couldnt help but smile at himself. he never seen him girlfriend react like this before but boy did he think she was so sexy punching Jackie. After everything you went home to rest since it was already getting late. After getting ready to go to sleep you hear someone tapping on your window, you already knew who it was. Opening the window for Bear to come in, but when he stepped into your room he kissed you like he was starving.

Bear soon pulled away, “you were so hot when you punched that bitch in the face.” he said looking at you. “Is that so? Well hopefully now she knows to keep her distance.” You said laughing. You walked to your dresser pulling some of Bear's clothes out, throwing them at him. This was just another normal night, where Bear comes over to hang out sometimes like this night, he spends the night. You turn off the light to your room, making your way to the bed. As you both laid down, Bear pulled you to lay in his chest. He knew you loved to hear his heartbeat, it was like a lullaby to you. “Thank you.” Bear said. “For what mi amor?” you ask. “Sticking by my side today.” Bear responded, sitting up a little to look at you, moving a little piece of hair out your face, you both looked at each other moving closer until Bear closed the gap between you. Bear pulled away, “I love you so fucking much.” he said. “I love you too Mi Oso.” you said to him as you laid back on his chest, you both soon fell asleep in each other's arms.

Oh dios mio= Oh my goodness

puta=bitch

Mi oso= my bear

Estupida maldita perra.Te golpeare el culo, pruebame otra vez perra = Stupid fucking bitch.i'll kick you ass. Try me again bitch.

[soundslikediamonds]

Rescuer (part 1)

Summary: (I'm not very good at summaries but!)

This whole concept came to me after watching Butler's interview with Josh Horowitz. Just seeing him in his hoodie and with his scruff just in that cold apartment over zoom made me think of this whole concept, yet it's super long, so I'm writing it in parts. I also got inspired seeing all those pictures with fans on the set of Bikeriders.

This is a fic where while walking alone at night, reader is being followed, but fortunately before anything can happen Austin saves reader.

Word Count: 4291

Disclaimer: This is my first time using Tumblr and first story posted here. I hope everyone enjoys!

Warnings: uncomfortable topic of being followed late at night, family dysfunction...

Hope you enjoy! (y'all I am SO nervous to put this out there lol)

_________

You close the front door and seal it with the lock. It's pitch black outside, a swollen full moon out with distant clouds. The air you breathe is cold and fans out little fog clouds each time an exhale escapes your mouth. It's no later than 12:00 am and you just finished all that you were taking for the night.

You would be back in a few days, when you were sure your Dad would be out. He was away this night, working a long night shift and you knew that. That was the reason why you managed to sneak back into the house and take some more of your belongings without your dad knowing you were here. It was clear he didn't want you back, not after that explosive argument last week that the two of you had which left him kicking you out.

You had no problem with leaving. Actually, it was something that tempted your mind for quite some time now. Somewhere between dad's anger, and the two of you fighting all the time, it was so exhausting. He made you get out of the house and made it very clear that he didn't want to see you again. You grabbed some extra clothing and toiletries for the night and your backpack before you called your friend Ava asking if you could sleep over. She was obviously awake and wasn't one who would take much to persuade.

You didn't go into detail of why you needed to be over there. It was late and the last thing you wanted to do was tell her that you, a college student, was officially homeless, having no real thought-out plan of what you would do. You just kept it simple; you were at the campus library studying into the night and by the time you headed back, you realized you forgot your keys and no one was in the house.

'just need somewhere to sleep for the night and then i'll be out tomorrow morning. kinda crazy how this is my life rn ahahaha'

You had texted Ava those words, to which responded in laughing crying emojis.

'dww!! it's life. it happens. i'll make sure to give you some of my clothes'

Shoot. The clothes. Although you did have a set of pajamas for the night, it would probably make more sense that you would burrow Ava's clothes. After all, you were locked out of your house. Where would those clothes come from if otherwise?

You placed everything you gathered in your backpack and took the bus to get to the other side of town. On the bus there was practically no one and as you had the back seats to yourself, you took this time to really think about what this meant for you.

You didn't have a home. You had class in the morning, and then two more in the afternoon, but you didn't have a home.

If you wanted help (which you probably should have asked for), that would require you telling the whole story of what happened, which was something you didn't want to go through.

If you took time to really think about it, you would probably cry. It was a surprise that you haven't done it yet, but it was probably because you haven't had the time, in retrospect. It was only the sound of your dad's tone that rung your ears, telling you to "leave and never come back" that made you scurry to your room, take what you needed to take and leave without saying another word, or giving eye contact to your parents. Your body moved quickly than what your mind could even process and now that you were sitting still since this pressing hour of chaos, you allowed your eyes to close, resting your hand on the top of your head as a small sigh escapes your breath.

What would you do now?

You stayed in that position for only a little while before deciding on opening your phone and choosing to listen to the song you thought would suit the moment best. As you looked out with window, you allowed for the duration of the melody to give you a sort of comfort and you told yourself deep down inside that everything was going to be okay. You were going to be okay.

That was last week.

Now, as you start down the stairs throwing one more glance over your shoulder at your old house, you tread down the street. For these past few days you've just been keeping yourself in an small Inn. It's been okay, mostly you were out for the day and so the Inn only did its thing and helped you out at night with a bed to lay down on and rest. But tonight was your last night and you had no idea what you were going to do afterward.

You were sort of on this plan of just going to a 24/hour coffee shop and stay there "studying" for the night. You've looked it up and there are a couple of places in the area. So, you considered that at least for the night you'd stay at the coffee shop to think things through.

You aren't alone as you walk. You glance down at your phone and notice that you have 15 more minutes before you'd reach the bus stop. The sounds of footsteps are distant behind you and, just because, you look over your shoulder just a little bit, but a chill runs through your arms when seeing that it's a man wearing all black with a hood over his head. He looks right out you and you whip your head forward, feeling your chest heave in a mini-gasp.

Now, you tell yourself, there's no need to overreact.

That would usually help you, but it is late and dark, and no one else is out. Plus, he's walking pretty slow, and has no problem with walking and staying behind you. Curiosity now takes over you as you decide to lessen the pace of your walk just a tad, and suddenly you hear his footsteps slow its pace as well.

Frowning, you now pick up the pace, to which this man does the same. Your heart starts beating fast and you check your surroundings, realizing the neighborhood you're in is dark and the lights to the houses by the streets are all out, indicating that everyone is either asleep or away.

You take a breath and decide to cross the street, just going at it because there aren't any on-going cars, but once you reach the sidewalk, you look down at the silhouette that's casted from the orange streetlight and see a distant but present shadow still trailing behind you.

You are officially. Being. Followed.

You've heard of stuff happening like this, and it's absolutely horrible. No one should be able to feel their own life being threatened just by walking down the streets at night. You just never thought of it happening to you, yet right now, your chest rises and falls as your hands collect sweat.

You have to stay calm.

If you start running, chances are he'll take off after you. You need to lead him someplace where there's people, yet you don't know this area half as well, and it's hard to make up places in the dark.

Silently praying that nothing happens, you take a risk a turn a sharp corner to another block which at this intersection you would normally continue to walk straight, but your legs aren't in control of what's going on and move out of fear and in search for desperate help.

Your eyes luckily find a light and you realize that you're coming to a gas station. The lights are open, so you knew that there has to at least be someone in the corner store. If you just casually walk in, the man following you would have to leave.

You start to hear footsteps from behind you pick up and your heart starts pounding within your chest. For some strange reason, although you are ridiculously scared, you aren't running. You aren't screaming for help. You're managing to speed walk with your head held high although trying to focus on your breathing and steady yourself. It's crazy how you're not looking back, but only walking faster, keeping your eyes straight on the blaring lights.

The Gas Station is right across the street from you and- without even clicking any buttons at the intersection which you should- you walk down the street and go up the small hill, and as your eyes avert to the station, you notice a tall man in a Carhartt jacket over black jeans, walking out of the corner store. He's looking down at the receipt in his hands as he walks to the pump. You're relieved to see someone at least, and you know that you're just seconds away from safety. However, as you're walking, you're scared when you see now in the corner of your eye, the man who is following you, starts jogging in your direction.

Without thinking you start making a light jog, no longer to the corner store, but to the man who's right in front of you, who has no idea of what small chase scene is in front of him as he looks at his receipt. By the sound of nearing footsteps, the man in front of you looks up just in time for you to greet him loudly before wrapping your arms around his neck, holding on to his tall frame. The man stumbles backward, but you turn your head to whisper in his ear.

"The man behind me is following me, please help me," You whisper, and that's all it takes before you feel strong arms wrapped around your waist.

"Hey, babe, sorry, I was just about to text you. Didn't mean to make you walk over to me." He says, the low tone of his voice vibrates your forehead as your head rests against his chest.

You're squeezing him now, thankful that the security in his voice and the tightness in his hold makes you feel safe right here in the Gas Station parking lot, right where some creep has followed you to. You don't even know if he's still there, or walking closer, and you don't want to know. You're not lifting your head up from being buried in this man's chest.

"Hey, the funniest thing happened at work today, but I'll tell you all about it once we go home. And you get to pick the movie tonight, but I gotta tell ya, if it's those cartoons again, I might just cry." The man says, a small chuckle coming out. A breath escapes your lips, almost like relief in itself. You'd smile if you could, if you weren't so scared.

Now, as you're still in the hug, you can't really hear anything. It's quiet and you're not sure what's happening in the world where your face is not against the fabric of a fall jacket, where you're not heavily breathing with tears stinging your eyes. You'd like to hear what's going on, or maybe you don't, but you can't, because all you hear is the sound of your heart pounding through your ears.

Finally after what seems like the longest seconds of your life, you feel the pad of a thumb stroke slowly through your hair just barely, just enough that you can tell it's within intent. To soothe you. You begin to match your breathing, your chest rising and falling, to the thumb strokes against your hair. You suddenly feel a lift of the hand and arms start to loosen just by a little bit.

"He's gone." You hear this man whisper in your ear.

Those words suddenly break you and now all of the emotion from the following to the chase catch up to you as hot tears slide down your cheek.

The man in your arms now holds you tightly once more and starts swaying you in his embrace.

"I am so sorry. I truly am, I...I'm so sorry." He says, with a deep and genuine ache in his voice. You nod, even though he did nothing but save you from what could've been, and just the thoughts of how the night could've turned out entirely worse, sobs now bubble and pour out as you begin crying on his chest.

"Do you wanna sit in my car?" His voice asks, and you hear the decibel of his voice raise just a little bit higher as it coats with soft and gentleness. You realize he's asking you that way because he wants you to decide. He wants to make it clear that whatever it is, he's not the one telling you to do anything. Not after this horrible experience.

"Okay." You choke out, nodding once again, before you slowly pull yourself away from where you nestle in his chest. You blink back to reality and look around you, seeing that the creep indeed is gone and you're standing outside in the parking lot of the Gas Station, while this tall man, who looks just a few years older than you, stares at you with kindness and grace. This is the first time you actually look into the eyes of your angel of the night. He has golden hair, a hint of scruff on his chin and around his pink full lips, with piercing baby blue eyes that sparkle even in dim light.

You try to smile, though you're wiping your eyes at the same time, and you can't help but feel like you look rather like a mess.

"Thank you so much." You say above a whisper.

The man doesn't comment on what he did, instead takes your arm gently and leads you to his car, a black vehicle near the last pump nearest to the car wash. While one hand still rests on your arm, you watch as this man digs up his car keys from his jacket pocket and unlocks the doors. He opens the passenger seat for you, to which you whisper thanks before he closes the door and walks around his car, leaving you only a few seconds to truly absorb everything that just happened in what seems to be in slow motion and in a flash at the same time.

You sit in silence for a moment, leaning backward in your seat as you try to look back and see if the creepy man would just pop out from nowhere. You're subconsciously doing it. You don't even realize that's what you're doing, looking at the back window until his hand is planted on your arm, bringing you back into reality. You turn immediately, looking at your rescurer.

"You're safe here." He says.

You nod. You believe him, but you don't even realize your hands are shaking until he looks at them, and you notice his jaw clench. You hug yourself, trying to remove the attention from your shaking hands and you feel his hand touch your shoulder. You try another smile as you turn to look at him.

"Thank you. I don't know what more to say but... thank you so much." You say, feeling like there are not enough words to express the true gratitude your heart.

He nods before he looks down in his lap, letting out a big sigh. You shake your head in response, now using your hands to massage your forehead in small circles. The two of you are silent in the car, but the both of you are thinking of everything that went down.

"My mind wants to think about how...he could've done anything to me. I've just been saved, and that's what I'm shook up about- the fact that it could have happened." You say, wondering what's even wrong with you.

Sure, you almost had something terrible happen to you. But someone came to your rescue just before it did. And instead of focusing on that and being grateful, you're still thinking of what it was that could've happened. Is that normal?

"I would be more concerned if you weren't thinking about the "what ifs". That's completely and totally valid." The man sitting beside you says. He then takes another breath.

"But I'm so glad nothing happened. And I'm proud of you for doing what you did. You know, you saw someone and immediately went to them when you felt in danger." He expresses.

You're sort of blocking that amount of praise that's trying to enter in, just because you don't believe you did anything out of braveness but out of fear. You were trembling in this man's arms, for crying out loud. He could have someone, or maybe he didn't want to get involved, or anything of that matter. But, you were grateful nonetheless.

"Thank you for going along." You say in a small voice. And he really was amazing. There was something about what he said, there was no hint of never knowing you before this. It was like you both were together. It was like you were truly going home with him. It was like you were going to pick the movie. With no hesitance he was able to get into this character and save you just by how he held you.

He shakes his head now, folding his arms as he looks ahead. "I was, uh...I was supposed to go to the other gas station, a few miles away from this one. There was too much traffic, and I decided to go here, even though I was complaining because the prices here are more expensive. But I realize that there was a reason why I was here."

He turns and looks at you, an actual scared look on his face. "If we were just seconds from each other, who knows what could've happened?"

You close your eyes. Your mind is going there, but you don't want it to. You don't want to go there. Based on the fact that you're not answering, the man breaths out a sigh.

"What happens now? Is there somewhere I can take you? Are you going home?" He then asks.

Your eyes then flicker open. How are you going to explain this?

Somehow in the midst of everything going on, you haven't thought of the fact that there was no place to stay. That your friends' places couldn't be used, or that your time at the local Inn was up. You couldn't think of anything when that creep was after you, but now that it's all over, you have to face the reality of the scary revelation.

"I, uh..." Your eyes flicker down, and you look at your shoelaces. You then look over at him. You're about to tell him, but your throat gets caught and you bring a hand to your head and close your eyes, slowly rubbing your forehead in small circles.

"You can just take me to the coffee shop. The one on Berden." You reply, your voice small.

He blinks at you, before giving a little nod, and you watch as his fingers mindlessly strokes the bit of scruff his has on his chin.

"Oh. Sure, yeah, we can stop for coffee if that's what you'd like. And then after that where will I take you?" He asks.

"Well..." You let out a breath. "I'm going to be staying there. I have, um...I have a lot of studying I need to do. That's where I was going, anyway. To the café...before...y'know, everything happened. Before I met you. I was on my way to the coffee shop." You ramble on.

You mentally kick yourself. Why do you have to sound so awkward when you're lying? I mean, sure you actually do need to study, but you're not really planning on it.

The man's eyebrows furrow as he turns and looks at you. You can tell just by the look in his eye that he's confused, and that he doesn't believe you.

"You can't study now. Not after everything. You need to rest somewhere." He argues.

You shrug, not meeting his eyes. "I'll be okay."

"I won't be able to sleep knowing that I had a chance of taking you home and refusing it. It's no problem driving you, really. Even if you live an hour away." The man says.

"It's okay, really." You try and persuade.

"It's just..." You watch as the man sighs, drawing his fingers to the scruff of his chin. He scoffs. "I don't know, it's so dangerous here."

He looks over at you in seriousness. "Is there no where I can drop you off?"

You nod. "Yes, the café on Ber-"

"No, no." You watch as the man shakes his head. He lets out a sigh and closes his eyes. When he finally looks at you, you swallow the guilt of not being able to tell him the whole truth. In this stranger's eyes there's a look of wanting to keep you secure.

"I have this feeling...you don't want to be home right now." He guesses, his voice a whisper.

That causes you to look down at your shoes. You feel his eyes on you and you know you're done. With that instant motion of not being able to look him in the eye, you're sure he can tell that his assumption is right.

When you finally look at him, you shoot a small smile. "You know...I can take the bus or something. You've done so much for me already, and I thank you. But, you probably have family waiting for you at home, or someplace to be." You say.

There's a silence as the man leans back, his back touching the seat. He slowly smiles, looking down at his hands.

"I uh...I live by myself in a lowly apartment, so...it really is no problem to-"

Suddenly, the man stops talking and then turns to look at you. He looks at you with a puzzled look on his face and you're wondering just what it is that he's thinking.

"I could propose something, but it might be strange." He starts, his fingers going back to resting on his chin.

He tends to do that a lot more than he's conscious of, you think to yourself.

You look at the hesitance on his face and blink. "What is it?"

"Well," He sits up straighter in his seat. "What if you just crashed at my place for the night?" He asks.

You blink. "What?"

He shoots a gentle smile. "Yeah, I mean...it's late, and it's obvious you don't want to go home. My apartment's close, and..." He holds you arm gently.

"I'd be completely out of your hair, there's a room that's completely secluded, you wouldn't see me at all, and there's office space if you dare wish to study...even though, I personally feel like with everything that's happened, going to sleep would be the best option, um...but I...I could make you some tea, uh...and I have these scented candles that I find always helps me, just feel better after a long tiring day...of course, I've never been through what you've just gone through, I mean that's absolutely terrifying, but-"

You then touch his arm. The poor man is rambling without even taking a breath. And he looks so apologetic, almost like it was his fault.

"What's your name?" You ask, changing the subject completely.

It takes him aback, for sure, and you find yourself start to smile. He blinks, chucking a little bit.

"I guess we haven't really formally introduced each other. I'm Austin." He says, extending his hand out.

You look at his eyes. Austin. It wouldn't be the first name you would guess, it's sort of unexpected, but looking at his face, you don't know if there's any other name you would give. It's charming, which is one of the words you would use to describe him.

You smile, reaching over and shaking Austin's hand as you say your own name. He gives a friendly smile laughs.

"Nice to meet you." He says shyly, which causes you both to laugh awkwardly.

"Nice to meet you, Austin." You smile. Then Austin looks at you with a serious look.

"Hey, um...I really am offering for you to stay at my apartment. Just for the night if that's easiest, and then," He shrugs. "And then, whatever you want to happen next, I'll allow." He says.

You nod. You know his intentions are good. You know, and it doesn't take much to know- that he is a good man. You almost experienced what wasn't a good man, and it scared you. It scares you to think that somewhere that man, and other people like him are out and about, roaming innocent streets to do sinful deeds for humans that don't deserve anything like that.

A chill runs down your spine as you think back to what could've been. Right now, however, there is nowhere else you can go. You'll admit you're in a very vulnerable state. You're mind isn't the best that it can be. You're still shook up. You're scared, and you know deep down that if you are anywhere away from Austin this time of night, you'd be even more afraid.

So with that, you look at Austin, who's been looking at you this whole time. You take a deep breath and then nod.

"Okay. I can go to your place for tonight. Thank you." You say in a small voice.

Austin nods, giving your arm another reassuring touch before he starts the car. And without another word he's set and soon you both are off, driving into the empty streets of night.

[inthepeakymidwinter]

Professor Pt. 2 (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

Summary: Y/N suspects Professor Shelby is cheating after a classroom encounter during midterms and leaves her head spinning.

Word Count: 1090

TW: Drinking, College/University

Part 1 Here

——————————

I was taken aback by Professor Shelby’s smooth replies, but I was taken even more aback by the sudden knock on my door. “Y/N let me in” My roommate shouted from behind the walls. “Fuck, uh, you have to hide” I whispered to Mr. Shelby.

“Where on earth am I going to hide, love?” He laughed off my ridiculous request. “The bathroom? I’ll take her out to eat something. Please Mr. Shelby just…look I’ll give you my key so you can lock up after I leave. Just give it back after class or something” I hurried him into the bathroom, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m really sorry this was so stupid” I sighed and kissed him on the cheek before shutting the bathroom and running to the front door. I opened it and saw my roommate Maggie in her pajamas.

“I’m drunk and alone and Jake just…h-he just broke up with me over text” She sobbed, and I hugged her immediately.

“Hey…Hey it’s okay let’s run to McDonalds. We’ll get some McFlurry’s and everything will be fine” I hushed her and grabbed my wallet, locking the door behind us and walking to my car.

The rest of the night as Maggie cried in my car, I couldn’t help but wonder if the Professor made it out of our room. I spent time daydreaming what our time would’ve looked like if Maggie didn’t interrupt us. But it was too good to be true, I’m sure he did this to a million other students just to get his ego stroked.

The next morning, I woke up to a dangerously quiet dorm room. Maggie was gone doing god knows what, and I had the strangest headache. I realized that Mr. Shelby did indeed come by last night and kissed me…quite a lot. It was the day of his class midterms. He taught history and he was relatively good at helping the dates stick. It was the one midterm I wasn’t scared for because I know he had prepped me with all the rigorous studying I had done with him after hours. Surprisingly last night was the only night he had ever made a move. I wonder if I was really the only one.

I came into the classroom ten minutes early and found myself with a group of other students. There was a tall skinny blonde girl walking up to Mr. Shelby at his desk, I saw her laugh ridiculously and twirl a strand of her hair as Professor Shelby look flustered. It heated me up inside, and that’s when I felt my heart shatter. It wasn’t true the whole time. He did this to his other students…in the same class.

The class started quickly, and Mr. Shelby started instructing how to properly fill out our tests. He then began to hand out papers across each desk in the classroom. “After our test, you are all free to go…good luck everyone. I’m sure you will all do just fine” He spoke up as he walked towards other desks in front of me. As he got to my desk Professor Shelby winked and passed me my test. I didn’t give him any satisfaction and started the test immediately, rolling my eyes as he walked away. Forty-five minutes later I had finished my test and walked myself down to his desk. I placed my paper down and walked out of the classroom, careful not to make any eye contact with his blue eyes. “Ms. L/N!” He shouted from behind me. I was a step away from the door when I turned around to reluctantly face him. “You forgot something” He spoke quieter and walked up to me. I looked at him with a resting bitch face, enough for him to get the message that I was not very happy. As he stopped in front of me, he held out my dorm room key in his hand. I took it quickly from his hand and gave a quick “thanks” before I left officially out of his classroom. I walked down the hall of the main building and looked at the key in my hands. There was a small paper attached to it. It had Professor Shelby’s phone number written on it. Something I would never need anymore.

At night, Maggie and I decided it would be best to go out clubbing. We needed to dance and forget about men for a while. We ended up getting ridiculously drunk at the club nearby and as we ended our night stumbling and laughing through our dorm hallway, I saw Professor Shelby again in his same suit from earlier. “Y/N? What the hell? Where did you go?” He asked frustrated.

“Respectfully Professor, that is none of your business” I pointed my finger at him as Maggie went to unlock our dorm room.

“What’s wrong with you Y/N? What happened?” He interrogated me like some sort of hot detective.

“I know what you’re doing…and I’m not going to be just another body to you. I’m going home” I touched his chest and turned around to open the dorm room door…but Maggie locked it behind her when she went inside. “Fuck” I cursed under my breath.

“What do you mean? Another body?” He inquired.

“I saw you…with that stupid girl from class…I…I’m done” I sighed and tried twisting the front doorknob, seeing if it could open at all. When I felt defeated, I just placed my forehead on the dorm door.

“Y/N…that girl thought she could get out of testing by flirting with me. I haven’t talked to anyone but you all semester. I don’t get it” He huffed.

I turned around and faced him. “Well…still not texting you” I spoke and looked into his sky-blue eyes. He smirked and nodded, “If that’s how you want to play it…be my guest”, but he got closer. He trapped me against my front door, placing his arms up besides my shoulders like you see in high school movies. He got closer to my face, almost kissing distance. “You know where I’ll be” Mr. Shelby spoke with a deeper voice slowly killing me. He put his nose against mine and instinctively I shut my eyes, my breathing getting heavier. I pursed my lips as I was prepared to kiss him but once I knew I was waiting too long I opened my eyes and found no Professor in sight. Instead, I looked down the hallway and found him exiting the building with his long black jacket. Damn that man.

[anmarifromearth]

Chapter 5: Zach's Phone

Note: You can read the finished version on Quotev, but for Tumblr, I'd like to upload the chapters one by one.

WC: 5.2 K -- Masterlist -- featuring art by @amalthiaph

She leaned in closer, a mischievous gleam in her eyes, "since this house was built long ago, did you know that there were passages in between the walls?"

Zach and I exit History Class together, walking side by side to Miss Johnson’s office, or as I’d like to call it, our deathbeds. Much more Zach’s deathbed than mine. I had this feeling that we dug ourselves a grave a lot deeper than intended. I look up at Zach with pitiful eyes. I know for a fact that he’s a lot scared than I am; he’s probably filled with fear of getting expelled and disappointing his father.

I open my mouth to say something, reassure him like he does to me. But I am at a loss for words.

“Iris,” he began as he looked down at me, “What if you get expelled, where would you go?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered, “probably to some local college in our hometown.’

“For me?” he said, “I have no idea.”

“I sure do hope you’ll never have to find out,” I mutter, placing a hand on his arm. I was hoping to place them on his shoulder, but I am too short to reach it. To my surprise, Zach reached for my hand, and placed his hand on top of it, a silent agreement. I smiled.

My smiled then dissolved as the doors to Miss Johnson’s office came into view.

 Zach pulled the door open and held it for me. I entered first and he followed. We saw Charles was already sitting in one of the three chairs prepared in front of Miss Johnson's desk. She wasn't there but I could hear the clicking of a teaspoon on a cup meaning she was just at her mini kitchen on the right of the office. Zach pulled the chair in the middle for me to sit on.

After we are all seated, Miss Johnson arrived with a tray and four mugs in it. Just as expected, Zach immediately got up and stole the tray from her to carry to the desk. "Thank you, dear," she muttered as Zach did so. "Alright," she began, clapping her hands together and settling down on her chair, "Good morning, I am Miss Skylar Johnson; Wessman School’s disciplinarian."

We all nodded in acknowledgement.

"I believe you already know why you are here?" she asked beaming. We sat there in silence. I don't even know whether that question demands an answer or it's just rhetorical. Whichever the case is, none of us wants to say anything anyway. After a moment of silence with only the sound of our breathing, she clapped her hands again, "You are here because you stole one of the keys last night, and used it to enter the White Room and those small doors wherein you went on a rampage."

I slightly got up from my seat, taken aback with what she said. I opened my mouth to protest but Zach was ahead of me, "We didn't steal any key," he said, all prim and properness leaving him. "In fact, we were surprised to see the doors unlocked considering the time," he paused, "And we thought maybe they forgot to lock it, and so we took advantage of that opportunity. We didn't steal the keys!"

I looked from him to Miss Johnson. Her eyes were full of disbelief. I cannot blame her. We cannot just say that it is all a coincidence that a random student had stolen the keys on the same night three other students snuck in a room that was supposed to be locked by those very keys. She smiled, not a pleasant one, I might add, and began to speak, "I almost believed your non-stammering excuse, Mr. Stratmann; it looks like you rehearsed it the entire night." It's news to me that she knows sarcasm.

After minutes of silence, Charles finally spoke up, "It isn't us, Ma'am."

"Then, who?" Miss Johnson asked, looking him straight in the eyes; her blue ones unwavering, "You three snuck in a room that was already locked ten minutes before dinner. A few minutes later, I was told that the keys are missing. Then, coincidentally, you three were found to have gone a passage by entering through that very room. Now, you are telling me it wasn’t any of you. So, is there any other student I should call the attention of?"

We looked at each other, thinking the same thing. The only logical explanation of that is someone stole it for us and opened those doors. But no one else knows anything about this, except Charlotte. She was there when we discovered that there are passages in between the walls and she even shushed us when we were making too much noise when trying to search for them.

However, I thought twice before opening my mouth. I cannot drag Charlotte into this, she is only my roommate. On the other hand, there is still that slight chance it might be here, and I'm willing to take it. "There might be someone," I said, almost a whisper. All their eyes went to mine, they are either scared or suspicious, "I repeat, might, alright? I think it might be Charlotte Meyer, my roommate." 

The brown haired girl arrived at the office a few minutes after she was summoned. Her clueless green eyes are asking us for an explanation. Zach offered her his seat and she gladly accepts it but not before whispering, "What is this all about?" to Zach who didn't bother to answer.

Miss Johnson cleared her throat, and Charlotte turned to face her, opening her mouth to ask the same question, "Miss Johnson, what is goi-"

"I'll go straight to the point, alright, Miss Meyer?" she cut her off, "Did you steal the school keys and opened the White Room for these three to sneak in last night?"

Charlotte was puzzled. "Come again," was all that she managed to blurt out.

Miss Johnson sighed, "Last night, the head of the maintenance reported the school keys missing, stating that it was just on its usual place in his office but were suddenly gone. A few minutes later, three students," she eyed us one by one, "were caught after sneaking in the-supposed-to-be-locked White Room and ending up on the dining hall, through somewhat 'hidden passages in between the walls.'"

Charlotte nodded, analyzing the situation. She took a deep breath before answering, "I do remember them talking about these so-called passages," she began, "but I never really knew they found one." She looked up at Zach then me. "Also, I didn't really had dinner here as I was out, meeting my parents. Iris did text me that dinner is almost ready," she eyed me as she said that sentence, "but I am already having dinner with my parents then. So," she said in a sing song voice, looking back at Miss Johnson, "I wasn't here last night. Well, not until curfew."

Yes, I do remember not seeing her at dinner after I texted her. Also, she wasn't really with us at the library when we found that one picture that led us to the discovery of one of the passages. Gladly, I saw Miss Johnson nodding and seeming to have believed her story as it does sound truthful. "Hmmm," she said as she nods, her hands under her chin, "Alright, then, Miss Meyer, you may go," she told her smiling.

Charlotte excused herself and mouthed me a "Good luck" before disappearing behind the oak door and into the sea of students. Miss Johnson cleared her throat once more, calling for our attention. Once we are all looking at her, she began to speak, "So if it isn't Miss Meyer, then who else?"

Charles shook his head. "No, we don't know anyone else," he answered truthfully.

"I think," Zach's voice broke the silence, "I think it might be Christina."

"Unfortunately, sneaking in isn't really the issue here nor the theft of the keys," boomed Mr. Phillips' voice. He closed the door behind him, his eyes glued on the dark-haired boy that sits on the chair. "You are meddling with things you shouldn't be meddling with. Don't you think that time is better spent on other things?" 

"We just wanted to create an article about Christina," Charles lied. 

"To apply for the school paper?" Mr. Philipps asked, smiling.

"Yes," Charles pronounced each letter slowly, surprised that his made-up story actually checked out. 

Mr. Philipps' lips turned into a straight line, "Impossible. That requirement for application to the school paper had been removed fifteen years ago." He walked slowly into Zach's direction, levelling his face to his. He placed both his hands on each armrest. "Yes, Mr. Stratmann, the passages do exist. And yes, I know where each of them lead to. I could easily track where you are in the school." 

Mr. Philipps' words played over and over in my head. 'I know where they lead to', he said. The passages. I am unsure if it's just me but if he meant to say that he knows every way out, he could've just said so. But instead, he said 'where they lead to', meaning, the passages lead somewhere. It is not there for people to use as shortcuts, or for those two people to play a trick on the maid and start a 300-year ghost theory. 

"Can I be the first one to say we're done for," Charles said looking at his feet as we all sat at the front steps of the school during our vacant hour. It was not very sunny and not very gloomy either. It's just about the right amount of clouds to cover the sky. 

Just like us, a lot of students are hanging out at the steps too with their books or phones. Zach sat in front of me and Charles. He was tapping on his canister. "We need to retrieve my phone," he looked up at us. "The evidence is there. It was Christina and not us. That would save us from the disciplinarian and clear us of theft accusations. Also, that's the only evidence we have against Mr. Phillips and the crimes his family must have committed. We need to retrieve it before he does, disposes of it, and keep things—their crimes, unknown to everyone."

"I don't really think we can do that," I replied with a sad tone. "He's guarding it by now."

"Yeah," Charles added, "And we can't try any other way to get in other than the dining hall and the White Room because he did mention he had the other floor plans. And unlike us, he probably already knows the entrances and has kept them locked already."

I exhaled, "We should really be lucky he let us slip just like that."

"We still need to retrieve it anyway," he said looking up at me, "because it's my phone. I need it."

I looked around the hall, my eyes travelling through large wood pillars carved in the looks of a rope and walls finished with polished oak wood. I took note in my head that in between these walls, there are passages that lead somewhere or to something. Where do they lead to?

We arrived at the mess hall, welcomed by the smell of food which is very nice. It's a good thing it wasn't that crowded yet and it wasn't long until Charles had found us a seat, one which was near the huge windows. It is nice, very well-lit and you feel connected with nature so we decided to accept it. Outside the windows was an opening--a field, large enough to fit in a football field and a track, some bleachers, and beyond that was another forest. However, this one doesn't look as deadly as the one in the entrance but for some reasons, this was the one that's prohibited. 

Placing our things down on the table, I noticed that Zach hasn't come back to his usual self; he was still silent, his lips still pursed and his face is still blank. I placed a hand on his back, catching his attention. He turned to me, face still blank, which disappoints me very much. "Let's get food," I told him, smiling, trying to do the same to him. Unfortunately, I failed; he just nodded and followed me to the buffet. Unlike last night, there weren't any small talks or anything that relates to the passages; it was just dead silent. Today's menu was Poached Mackerel, Bruschetta and Salsa which I think is really nice. The way back to our table is very much the same; it was still silent.

"So, what do we do now?" I decided to finally break the deafening silence. I looked at Zach who was just piercing his mackerel with his fork and doesn't really look like eating. "Zach!" I said, a bit louder than my usual tone.

This time, he turned his head to me, an eyebrow raised. "Why are you asking me?" he said, tone dead compared to normal.

"Because," I started, swallowing a bit of my meal, "you are the leader of this team."

"Am I?" he asked, turning back to his food, "I thought it was Charles. He's the one who started the group chat."

"Yes," I replied. Charles, however, was just eating it all away and was just listening to us talk. "But when we came into this whole 'Christina and her family' thing, that was all you. You're the one who introduced us to the mystery we are now trying to uncover."

Zach nodded, and finally decided to take a bite of his mackerel. "Alright," he started, "Then it's me."

Charles gulped in water and repeated his question from earlier, "What is our next step?"

The teen took time to think, tapping his right hands on the table as he thought, "We really need to get my phone. For evidence and well, because it's my phone."

Charles and I nodded.

"However," he started. I tensed, quite surprised that our plan isn't sit and wait as I thought it would be. "We need to move fast," he continued, "Mr. Phillips knows that we know what he knows, and I'm pretty sure he's now asking someone to guard the door on the White Room; if not, then he's doing it himself." He pushed his tray of food aside and reached for his backpack. "We just need to find another entrance—one where he least expects us to use, that could lead us to where I dropped the phone because that is where we last saw Christina. And from there, we'll make our next move," he started to search for the canister inside his bag. "Maybe, there is another door on the path we saw the skeleton, just right where Christina stands when we saw he-," his eyes were filled with so much horror.

I moved on my seat, extending my neck to see what he found. Zach's hand was still inside his bag, shaking. Slowly, he pulled it out and on his hand is HIS PHONE.

[missspringthyme]

January 12th, 2024

Travel day! My dad said goodbye to me before work and gave me a really long hug. My sister helped me carry my things to T's car (and then she got locked out lol, I told her where the spare key was but then she used it in the wrong lock and ended up having to call my dad).

T drove me to the smaller airport in my town, which is the airport my dad encourages me to fly in and out of if I can. I don't like to because this often means that I have to take a useless, 20-minute flight to get to the bigger airport in my state before taking my actual flight, which is exactly what happened today, but whatever. The US needs more trains.

T dropped me off, but I forgot to give him his forward kiss I always do when I say goodbye (before we started dating this time (we dated in high school and then reconnected as adults) we went hammocking and ended up talking until very early in the morning. I was exhausted, so he offered to let me spend the night (just friends right!) so I wouldn't fall asleep at the wheel. When I got up to leave he looked so peaceful and it had been such a good night that I was overcome by the urge to kiss him on the forehead. I quickly stopped myself though, because that was an incredibly weird thing to do to your high school ex. So, in my infinite wisdom, I decided that the appropriate compromise was to kiss the tips of my fingers and press them to his forehead. He's insisted I do it when I say goodbye to him now ever since). I'll have to find a way to make up for it eventually.

My bag was 2 pounds overweight so I had to stuff some jeans in my backpack. There is nothing more humiliating than being crouched on the floor of an airport with an unzipped suitcase. All was well in the end, and I got to my gate with plenty of time to spare for my useless flight.

I've been listening to a podcast where this guy reads Percy Jackson for the first time, as my (not ever really) dormant obsession with Percy Jackson has been reinvigorated by the still-releasing TV show.

At the big airport, I grabbed lunch during my 45-minute layover (bagel sandwich and sparkling water) which I managed to finish eating seconds before my group began to board.

The flight was awful, awful, awful. Behind me were 3 unsupervised, unoccupied, very young children. Which, let me preface by saying that I am not one of those people that thinks that children should not be allowed on airplanes (???) and in general I do not operate under the belief that children should be expected to not behave like children to exist in public spaces. HOWEVER, at least one adult should be present on a 12 hour flight.

Additionally, next to me was sat a massive man who had no qualms about placing his legs far past the imaginary boundaries of our seats. He seemed to be in his early to late 30s, and I know with the way I was dressed I look younger than I am. This made it all the more concerning when he began blatantly hitting on me and asking me increasingly specific questions about where I lived. He asked me if Germany was my final destination, which I took as my chance to pretend I didn't speak much English and then let him get off the plane well ahead of me. Absolute nightmare.

I also could not get comfortable so I slept very poorly if at all. When I was a kid, we flew all the time (I'm pretty sure my first international flight was before I was 6 months old), and I loved it. Airports are still a bit of a happy place for me, but I've developed a bit of a fear of flying. Every time I step on a plane my thoughts are filled with death and the cold acceptance of my fate, although I've found not sitting in the window seat helps.

I sat in the window seat on this flight.

[sleepfiles]

Treasure.

A short story about online relationships.

I learned from a young age to stop making homes out of people. Making homes out of people is ridiculous. People are inconsistent, they are unpredictable, and they will continue to disappoint you. Stop making homes out of people because a home is supposed to be constant and people are destined to move. A home is supposed to be a safe haven and people make me feel afraid. My parents are my family, but they are not my home. I will love them unconditionally, and I know they will do the same to me. Although, they strike fear and anxiety into my veins, and I am left in constant dread that I will inevitably disappoint them. They will regret me. My friends are the people I hold nearest to my heart, but they are not my home. We are not destined to stay together forever, we are people who are destined to move away from each other. Not necessarily drift apart, but each of us have different agendas that lead to different paths. We are not constant. It sparks fear in my system that someday the thread that leads us all back to each other will snap. They will forget me. In conclusion, stop making homes out of people. People are not homes. I've learned to stop squatting in temporary shelters and depending on it for long-time comfort. Stop making homes out of people. Stop making homes out of people. Stop making homes out of people. I have to repeat it over and over again because I was never good at applying the things I learned and failure to comply was inevitable.

My home came with a single bright white light illuminated by the screen of a laptop, the dimness of my phone screen as I secretly type away in class, and dark circles forming under my eyes as I struggled to stay awake until the early hours of the morning in order to be home. I met her on March 3, 2018. I am a much more sociable person on the internet than I am in real life. It was simple, someone follows me on Twitter, I follow them back and drop a simple greeting into their direct messages. Easy enough that I've met some of my closest friends through doing so, and I met her. Athena and I first saw each other, well online at least, through a mutual friend named Dylan. Though he never formally introduced us, we've sort of found our way to each other. She popped into my timeline through her interactions with Dylan and I thought to myself, "Ah, she seems nice I want to be friends with her." I got a reply from my initial message to her hours later, just a simple "Hello!" in response to my very inviting "Hi there!" It was awkward at first, but isn't that how most beginnings are? A little bit awkward as we both tried to navigate each other, having solid ideas about each other's personalities but not quite sure yet. Nonetheless, it did not stop us from talking every day, forming a friendship that I soon became dependent on.

I quickly learned that we're both vastly different people, other than living on different sides of the world, our personalities seemed to contrast and yet complement each other at the same time. I am admittedly lazy while Athena was always trying to make herself productive. "My number one mission is to make you not lazy! I can't let myself fail this." I didn't have the heart to tell her that I might be a lost cause because she sounded so determined and maybe I wouldn't mind being more productive for her. Athena was forgetful and I remembered everything. She once told me the story of how she forgot her house keys when she went out to the store and went in full panic before realizing she never even locked her front door in the first place. As I read through her messages while on the train going home, I couldn't fight the big grin threatening to spread across my lips. I joked that she was a grandma. I won't forget her response that even though she was forgetful, I still liked her anyway. She was joking, but she wasn't wrong. We were different, while both of us were quiet, I had a harder time watching my words. I am stubborn, reckless, and pessimistic. Athena was gentle and patient. She listened to me when I ranted about school and when I complained about how much I wanted the day to end. She kept me company when there was nothing to do in class except pull out my phone and hope that she was awake and available to talk to me. It became a constant routine, not a day went by where we didn't talk. My mood became dependent on our daily communication, my thoughts were clouded by cheeks tinted with light pink hue and flower arrangements. Athena loved flowers. I cannot pinpoint the exact moment our friendship bloomed into something more. We started out as roses shut tightly, slowly opening ourselves to each other as we bloomed into our most beautiful forms. Thinking about her made a storm in my chest churn, the seas alive and the waves hitting my heart with so much force that it eventually bruised. The red color enveloped my heart turning much more vivid as Athena had taken her permanent residence in my heart. I was scared. I told her I was scared. But I was not scared of her. I was scared because while the thought of her formed typhoons in my system, her presence calmed even the angriest of seas. Athena had kept me grounded, I felt safe and comforted and free and that mere feeling terrified me. I was building a home out of Athena and I've already settled in.

With a shaky breath exhaled from my lips, my fingers nervously settled onto the keys of my laptop. I gathered all my courage to hit send. My heartbeat became increasingly faster by the second as the words I'd typed appeared on a blue bubble on the screen. "You scare me, but I would very much like to be in your presence." Seconds later I got a response, "It's settled then, you've officially become one of my favorite people here. I'm treasuring you." The waves in my chest grew more vigorous, the storm becoming bigger as I read the message and it felt as if my whole heart was going to explode out of my chest. I was happy. She was happy. We made each other happy. She made me feel at home. Three small dots appearing on the screen pulled me from the butterflies crowding my stomach, she was typing. "I would want to date you if only our situation had been different." That sentence pulled me back to reality. The emptiness of being constrained within the four corners of my room crept up on me. The weight of loneliness pulled my figure down as I pulled my knees close to my chest. Warm tears form in the corners of my eyes, the mantra echoing in my mind. Stop making homes out of people, stop making homes out of people, stop making homes out of people who are a continent away. Stop making homes out of people who are unattainable. For homes are supposed to be constant and people are destined to leave, and we must say thank you and bid them goodbye as they make their exit. Athena and I knew we were far into deep to just be friends, we weren't anything. But there was something, there was always something. Remaining simply platonic proved to be a challenge, both of us were ready to move forward but we knew that there was no future in pursuing anything beyond friendship. It was only a matter of time before she left. And I had to let her leave, because while I loved Athena, she is not my home. She is my treasure and I am hers, we will keep the ghost of each other near our hearts even though we both left.

[bts-apocalypse-au]

Namjoon's P.O.V 🐨 12th April

When I wake up, everyone is gone. They must have gone home for the night UGH! That means that I slept at least 5 hours. At work! How embarrassing! Oh no, what if I'm locked in. Oh well, I practically live here anyway. Suddenly, something blatantly obvious occurs to me, it's light out. I go over to the computer tapping the power button to wake it up, it doesn't work. In typical me fashion I'd forgotten that I wear a watch. It reads 9:30.

My watch must be wrong, if it's 9:30 then where is everybody? I walk to the break room where people should be almost shoving each other to get the watered down instant coffee whilst it's still hot, there's nobody. Next I go to the bathrooms where the repairman is always yelled at because one of the toilets doesn't work, there's nobody. This doesn't make sense. Where's the morning coffee line, where's the office clamour, where's Janitor accusing me of breaking something again? Where are they?

I look out the window, there are tons of cars out, tons of them. I can hear horns honking all the way up here and see people getting out to shout at other drivers. It's a gridlock, the cars on the road must contain at least ¾ of the city's 10 million people. Why aren't they at work, is there some Holiday I forgot, a big festival? It's the middle of April and there shouldn't be.

But if not that, then why . . . I notice they're all headed the same way to the highway, and out of the city.

Why? Why is everyone leaving? What's happening?

I head over and try to boot up one of the computers but the it wont turn on and it occurs to me that the office is only lit by daylight. Did the city grid go down? No, I see lights over in other sectors of the city, so just us.

I need to reboot the generator for the floor but it's two floors down in the electrical room, so I'll do it later. I go up a floor and down one of both of those floors are deserted. The security room shows the entire building is empty. What the hell?

I check my phone and find it still works, oh thank god! I get a ping and then another, a flood of alerts coming in and I read each one my horror growing, what happened? Animal attacks, plant attacks, people getting sick with some strange flu like disease.

I breathe deeply and slap my left cheek as hard as I can. It stings like hell and I stay right where I am so this is definitely a dream or rather a nightmare. Okay, okay. One thing at a time, the smartest thing would be to hole up here for now. I'll start by collecting medical and food supplies.

—

With some effort I've restored power to my floor and 4 other floors (2 above and 2 below my floor). At least now I can use the elevators to haul supplies

I've spent the better part of the day scouring all open floors for supplies. Most of them are above my clearance level meaning I can't enter even though the power's out because they require physical keys, but a few of those have been left unlocked, probably out of haste.

Now the only floor left to check is one of the top level clearance labs that's been left open. I've been hesitant, but there might be something I can use to communicate with in there.

The lights are still on and I know I didn't turn them on, they must have been on a separate grid. But why? Fridges of vials and samples whir, still fully powered and microscopes with petri dishes and sit abandoned, a time capsule of a moment. I take gloves from a box and put them on just to be safe.

A section of human skin lays under one of the microscopes, a rather large one and it looks fresh, I don't want to think of where they got it. I peer into the microscope, it appears to be human cells . . . almost.

They twist and bend and group and ungroup moving fluidly like water but with a consistency denser, almost like metal. I take some acid from the shelves and place a small bit on the dish, the cells react immediately. Instead of dissolving, they crystallise becoming more and more solid. In about 3 seconds a piece of metal lies in the petri dish, in place of the cells. I take tweezers and poke it, it stays solid and even after picking it up and dropping it it doesn't damage, it doesn't even scratch. I place it back in the petri dish and it does change, morphing itself to fit perfectly in the space. I watch in wonder.

When I finally do look up I see there's a cage in the left corner of the lab. A small white animal lays on the mat inside writhing. The nameplate on the cage reads:

Test Subject #134340

Status: FAIL

Action: TERMINATE

They must've been going to euthanize it but never got the chance. I step closer and see it's a dog. Keeping my gloves on I pet its back gently. It uncurls itself and rolls over on its belly, I gasp. Its entire stomach is silver and feels like . . . metal, but that's impossible. (Or is it? Not according to what I just saw.) One of its paws and half of its face also share this condition. What were they doing?

Just as I notice a second, bigger cage in the corner the lights go out, plunging the lab into blackness. There's nowhere to hide so I call out, hoping, praying that it's another survivor and not one of the feral animals I heard about.

"Hello!?"

I hear a woosh and then something too real to be a shadow but too vague to be a person sweeps me up, when I realise what's happened I'm tied to a chair with zip ties.

"Who are you?" I ask the figure, male I think, but I'm not so sure. Their face is covered completely by a ninja mask.

"Better question, who are you?" They move like a cat but they're voice sounds like a growl.

I start to raise my hands up in surrender before I remember that they're bound. "I'm Kim Namjoon, I don't even work on this floor. I'm just looking for supplies. I can help you, we can help each other."

"You can't help me unless you have information."

"About what?" I try to hide the shake in my voice.

"Your boss."

"Mr. Park?"

"No, the CEO, the kind of work he was doing here. What they were creating."

I think about the dog and the skin that transformed into metal.

"I don't know, I just found this place, see my badge I don't even have clearance."

The person nods.

"You're a scientist?"

"Yes, and you?" I ask, gaining confidence.

"Just someone searching for corrupt people. Now can you tell me what all of this is?"

"No, I wasn't part of this project, I was working on calculations for the vaccine distribution projections. The CEO asked me personally to do them, he said no computers. They were planning on vaccinating the whole city within the month. That's all I know I swear!."

They nod and "hmm" to themselves as if they know something I don't.

Something silver flashes through the air and I flinch, a whooshing sound, it's a knife. I try to scream for help but the mysterious ninja person covers my mouth before the sound even leaves my lips and the zipties on my wrist fall off. They're freeing me, now I feel stupid.

They walk towards the door casually as if this is an everyday occurrence. "Agust D." The ninja says calmly.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"A to the G, to the U, to the STD" they say with disturbing nonchalance.

Before I can ask what that even means they're gone and the light is back on filling the room with fluorescent light, just when I had gotten used to the dark. I cringe then spot something out of the corner of my eye.

I look back to the petri dish trying to shake off the experience. The piece of metal is now skin again, the same as before, untouched by the transformation. So it was only temporary. I prod the skin again to see if it feels the same, all the time watching under the microscope. It turns back to metal stabilising and maintaining the state for another minute.

So it can change at will, if a piece of skin has will, so basically it does this as a defence. Wonderful. If only all humans could do this. Then it dawns on me, that's what they were trying to do to the dog only it turned out all too permanent. It would take years and probably more now that the projects have been abandoned but this could, with lots of tweaking, be possible for humans.

I note down my observations and grab a rolling file cabinet to study. I've tried calling my friends and colleagues but nobody has answers and I feel a stab of worry thinking about Hoseok-hyung. At least I have something to do until this all bowls over.

(A/N: I am soon going to have a lot of time to write so Hoseok and Yoongi's chapters should be coming out sometime in the near future.)