#tells how one day a man ran over a neighbor's dog to death

[selliho6530]

This is my mom telling me one of the scariest stories I've ever heard of...

[myhauntedsalem]

Funeral Home Workers Describe The Creepiest Thing They’ve Witnessed On The Job

1. Corpse sits up all by itself

“My neighbor awhile back before I moved was a mortician. One night he had a body he was preparing for a very early morning wake or service (whatever was going on, it was unusual, and it required him to work into the wee hours of the morning on this particular corpse).

So as he’s working on it, he turned his back to grab some tools or supplies, and the angle he was standing at with regard to the corpse left the body visible just out of the corner of his eye.

As he was looking down at whatever tools he was getting, in the corner of his eye he saw the body slowly start to sit up.

His fight/flight instinct immediately kicked in, and he ran to the stairs as fast as he possibly could, but he was so clumsy trying to get up the stairs he tripped and was pretty much crawling and clawing his way to the top.

He was just near the top before his senses finally came back, and he knew it was rigor mortis. He collected himself and started to laugh at how absurd it all was.

He had been doing this for 15 to 20 years at that point, and he had never had a freak out like that before where instinct overtook knowledge and experience.

He actually sheepishly admitted he had to go clean himself because he had soiled his pants in the panic.”

2. Dead man holds on to medical technician

“I used to work in tissue recovery. My least favorite part was prepping a donor for recovery, as it included shaving the arms/legs. Once, we had a donor who was very freshly deceased. I held his hand to shave his arm, and his fingers curled around my hand as rigor mortis set in.

That was exceptionally creepy.”

3. They groan as they are moved

“If the deceased have a lungful of air, then moving them causes it to release. When the air travels through their throat, you get some minor vocalization, but it’s usually just a liquidy gurgle. It still gets me sometimes, though, if I’m working alone.”

4. Lights flicker every time a new body is brought in

“I’m a nurse, and the only place I’ve ever seen the lights flicker is just outside the morgue. They are fine almost all of the time but when we bring a body down the lights always flicker. Really creeps me out.”

5. A body shivers in the presence of a living one

“I was filling out paperwork over one of the bodies while working late when it shuddered. Never saw that before or after, no explanation.”

6. Funeral home lights go on and off by themselves

“I’ve only experienced something one time and that was around 10PM, after two years with no activity at the location. I had turned all the lights off in the chapel, and when I went to check the casket door, the lights turned back on. I was nowhere near the switch.”

7. Ceremonial doves are devoured by hawks

“I’m a funeral director/embalmer and I have seen… just so many bad funerals. One that really stood out was the time that a family released doves in a rural cemetery, after being told not to, and a hawk ripped one to pieces.”

8. A woman with a glass eye requested it be left open for her service

“I was a part-time funeral director’s assistant. We once had an elderly woman with a glass eye who requested it be kept wide open for the service. Gave me a hell of a fright when I saw her in her casket.”

9. Man has his dead dog waiting for him at funeral home

“My mother worked in a funeral home. One day, she was asked to go up in the attic to look for some old records, and came across a baby coffin. She went to move it with her foot, and could tell it wasn’t empty. Immediately went back downstairs and asked the director about it.

Apparently it’s a client’s embalmed dog that’s being stored until he dies, so that they can be buried together upon his death.”

10. Identical twin shows up to funeral in the same outfit as his deceased brother

“My mom works in the funeral business. Sometimes I would come to work with her and help her set up the chapel for a service.

One service in particular was of a little boy who drowned. His parents dressed his identical twin brother in the same outfit as him for the funeral.”

11. Funeral workers dress as clowns for a funeral

“We had a clown one time. This person was buried in full clown costume with makeup and all.

At the family’s request, the funeral directors were clowns too. They supplied costume and did our makeup. Family and friends had one teardrop painted on near the eye.”

12. Funeral tech is asked to clean eyes that aren’t there

“One of the creepiest for me was having to clean a gentleman up…I was supposed to clean his eyes, as well.

Opened those up only to see two empty sockets. No eyes. Apparently, it was a post-autopsy embalming.”

13. A man punches a corpse while paying his last respects

“I worked at a funeral home for a while when I was a teenager. After an open casket viewing a man came in saying he wanted to pay his respects privately. No big deal, that is fairly common.

We led him into the viewing room, opened up the casket and told him to take his time.

A couple of minutes later we’re sitting in the office and hear a really loud popping sound, followed by running and the door slamming.

We ran into the viewing room and the deceased’s mouth was hanging open and the skin was odd looking. The best we can figure is that he punched the guy and took off.”

14. Woman tries to steal her child’s body during the funeral

“I have a sad one from a funeral director’s perspective. Separated parents were mourning the loss of their toddler at the visitation before the funeral. The mom was grieving unlike any mother I’ve seen grieve over the loss of a child – almost fake.

She proceeded to pick up the deceased child, “hide” him in her coat, and walked out the door when no one was looking.

The other funeral director I work with found the mom running to her car where he stopped her and grabbed the kid. We found out two months later that the mother and her new boyfriend had physically abused the kid.”

15. Decomposition so bad, that cremation was only viable option

“A man was brought into us after lying dead in his garage for 3 weeks in the summertime. He was covered in bugs, his skin was black and green, and the skin sloshed right off the bone. I couldn’t do anything for that case, he was cremated.”

16. Woman’s hair and nails keep falling out

“We were prepping and washing the body of a 90 year old woman. One of her toenails fell off, and the hair on her head kept falling out. It took a good 3 hours to get her hair put back in one strand of hair at a time to make it look acceptable.”

17. A man brings his new girlfriend to his wife’s funeral

“Both my parents are funeral directors. At one service, the wife of an older gentleman had passed away. The widower showed up to the funeral with his new girlfriend who was much younger and was wearing a very revealing outfit.

Whenever the husband would begin to cry, the girlfriend would bring his head to her bosom to comfort him while stroking his hair.

Shortly after the ceremony ended, the husband asked one of the funeral directors about the flowers from the funeral.

He wanted to know if he could take them with him for the wedding he was having that weekend with his new fiancé.”

[buckyownsmylife]

You and I - Henry Cavill smut

The one where Henry comes over to fix your computer

Warnings: reader is a henry fan, pandemic theme, lockdown and quarentine-ing, little bit of second-hand embarrassment?, heatwave, henry is feeling deprived in this one, oral sex (f), masturbation (f), dirty talk, brief hairpulling, the name of God in vain, Henry’s monster dick,  laughing and teasing while fucking, hand over throat but no actual choking, orgasm control, p in v, unprotected sex

Word count: over 3k, ‘cause I got no chill

A/N: this was inspired by a tik tok someone requested me to write a fic about it. Obviously I took it in a different direction because can I ever follow guidelines? No. I do love this fic, though. Thank you to @lokiscollar​ for giving this a read for me!

Y/N’s P.O.V

Driving to a secluded location to spend lockdown in felt like a wonderful idea. There was a working wi-fi connection, so I could work remotely from the seashore cabin without any problem whatsoever, and the view was obviously to die for.

I did not expect someone else to have the same idea as me. The cabin next door had been occupied on the same day that I arrived, and much to my surprise, I recognized my new neighbor as someone I never expected I’d come to meet in my entire life: an actor. An actor I actually had a crush on.

Thankfully, the situation didn’t exactly call for mingling. I ran off to hide inside my cottage as soon as I realized who he was, occupying myself with fixing everything for the next day instead of daydreaming about the man next-door.

There would be time for that later, once I got in bed. But weirdly enough, that was the only time I really thought about him during those first weeks of quarantine. Every once in a while I’d get the random wave of curiosity about what he was doing - what did Henry Cavill get up to while spending lockdown by himself? But that was pretty much it.

I woke up every day, had breakfast, worked and then went to bed. Sometimes I’d sit by the balcony and watch the birds fly, taking in the scenery and breathing in the salty water. Even as a kid, I’d always loved the sea. It was comforting, so it made sense for me to turn to it in such a stressful time.

Sometimes I’d hear a bark or two, reminding me of the man who was staying in the other cabin, and it made me smile. I always did like his dog, whenever I saw pictures of him.

I hoped they were alright and that the absence of any human contact wasn’t getting to them, even though it was getting to me. I could feel my own social abilities - which weren’t exactly stellar before - slowly becoming decrepit, and I was scared to think of what my first human interaction would be like once lockdown was over.

I just hadn’t anticipated it would be come so soon.

The morning began as it usually would. I took my shower, I had my breakfast, and I sat in front of the computer with my coffee in hands, ready to start working for the day.

Only the computer wasn’t ready for it, too.

“What?” I talked to myself - something that had become more usual the longer lockdown went on. “Oh, no, no, no…” The situation was looking drearier the longer I stared at my lifeless screen.

Looking up at the clock, I considered my options. Even supposing I could get someone to come to this middle of nowhere to fix it, there was no way I’d be able to get it done before work started.

Sighing, I pushed away from my designated desk to call my boss. Thankfully, he understood and I was left to repair the damn thing and come up with a solution for the next day.

My heart ached at the prospect of having to abandon my refuge because of an electronic malfunction. And that is, if there even was anyone willing to fix the damn thing, considering the pandemic and the rules of social distancing. That’s when suddenly, an idea popped up.

I remembered all the fuss a few months back over a video of Henry assembling a computer all by himself. There was no way someone with that much hardware prowess couldn’t at least know enough to fix this simple laptop.

With that thought in mind, I gathered all of my courage to leave my little shack and make my way to the neighboring cabin. I took a deep breath before knocking on the door, and after a few seconds of silence - he was probably surprised and certainly not expecting anyone - a voice sounded from within.

“Who is it?” Now, I had thought this through. If this man came as far as I had come to this damn forgotten town, it was because 1) he wanted peace and quiet and 2) he was as terrified of the virus as I was. So I knew what I needed to say - what I would like to hear if the roles were reversed.

“It’s your neighbor. My name’s Y/N. I’m so sorry to disturb, but my computer broke and I need it to work and you’re the only person I’m 100% sure has been socially distancing for long enough not to put my life in risk.” After all, I would have seen if someone had come to visit him. I didn’t need to say this because both of us knew it. “Would you pretty pretty please come and check it out?”

Silence followed my question and I sighed, rubbing my sweaty forehead as I knew this was a long-shot. “I understand if you’re unable or uncomfortable doing so, I just figured I’d ask. Thanks anyway!”

I had already turned my back to his front door when I heard it swinging open, the pitter patter of paws following close behind. My eyes took in the man in front of me for only a second before looking down at the dog at his feet, head tilted in interest as he analyzed me.

Immediately, my eyes lit up. “Kal!” I exclaimed, kneeling down to let the animal sniff me so I could pet it. My heart stopped working for a second when I realized what I’d done, though.

“Sorry!” I looked up at him from my kneeling position, trying to ignore how awkward it was, considering what I was close to. “I-I do know who you are, I’m not gonna lie about that.”

I straightened up as he kept looking at me in a way I couldn’t quite define. Neither could I determine how it made me feel, just that it made me avert my gaze so I’d stare at my feet.

“So… Are you gonna help me?” He chuckled at my question, closing the door behind him and taking a step in my direction, making me fumble as I instinctively stepped back.

“Sure.” It was the first thing he spoke to me, but we walked back to my own place in silence. He had his hands in his pockets as Kal followed us closely, his tongue hanging outside his mouth as he happily explored the outside for this little while. “Come on in.”

The way the cottage was set up left little space for him to wonder where he should be helping me. The desk in which I had prepared my set-up stood right by the wall to our left, and there he went without me having to point it out.

I watched a drop of sweat roll down the nape of his neck and fall under his tank top, distracting me as I licked my lips at the sight of it. Then his head turned to look at me and I realized that he was waiting for an answer to a question I hadn’t heard.

“Yeah, huh?” He chuckled again, making my face feel warm - an not (only) because of the overwhelming heat.

“Is it okay if I disconnect the wi-fi?” I wave my hand dismissively, shrugging.

“As long as you’re able to fix this, you can do whatever the hell you want.” I got the impression that I amused him, but he didn’t say anything else as he got to work on my (seemingly) dead computer.

Minutes went by of complete silence, safe from the sounds of typing and metal as Henry worked on the machine and I tried not to bite my nails. Finally, he pulled away from the screen and put his hands on his hips as if assuming some sort of decided stance - but if it was a good or bad thing, I couldn’t tell.

“Tell me, doctor.” I asked, pushing myself away from the sofa to approach him. The smell of a man’s sweat really had no right to be this arousing. “Is it life or death?” Henry turned to stare at me with a quirked eyebrow, and in the seconds it took for him to answer, I was once again distracted by just how hot he was.

“Sorry, what?” I asked when he became silent and I realized he’d asked me something I hadn’t heard once more. His smile said he was annoyed and entertained at the same time. “Sorry, you’re hot, it’s hot, and I can’t think straight,” I sighed, brushing the hair away from my eyes as I pressed my palms against them, trying to pull myself together.

“I swear to God, I’m not crazy.” I tried to look him directly as I said that, but was surprised at what I saw when our gazes met. There was a peculiar sense of yearning that he exuded, something I couldn’t quite place but that took my breath away all the same, especially when he took my silence as an invitation to invade my personal space.

“If you want me so badly, all you have to do is ask.” Silence fell heavily and I was out of breath just from his words - not a good sign. My throat felt dry, too dry, so I swiped my tongue over my bottom lip as I struggled to say something.

“W-why, though?” He tilted his head to the side, eyes inscrutable while he judged my question, trying to understand where it came from just like I was trying to understand his interest in me, when he suddenly smiled.

“I figured it’s a nice way for you to pay me back.” It took me a second to understand what he was referring to, and then my eyes darted from the computer to him, my mouth falling open in offense until he started chuckling. “I’m joking!” But even so, the question remained…

“Sweetheart…” He spoke, voice low and velvety as two strong hands suddenly enveloped my hips. “You’re seriously underestimating how hot you are.” I didn’t know what to say, so I had to make sure I’d hear him right.

“M-me?” A predatory smirk took over his face, slowly. I gulped under its intensity, feeling much like prey as he started to back me against the couch. I fell on top of it with a gasp, and another one escaped me when he used my ankles to pull me closer.

“I wanna eat you out.” It was all I got as an answer, but I can’t say that I minded it. As he dropped to his knees before me, pulling down my underwear before spreading my legs for his eyes to take in, it felt like I got a response from the gesture in itself.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I ate pussy?” The unexpected question made me choke on my own saliva, as he chuckled darkly in amusement at my bashfulness. I could only breathe through my mouth when he leaned down to run his tongue on the edge of my lips, slowly acquainting himself with my taste, making me moan softly.

“I-I definitely and decidedly don’t.” He seemed to like this answer, understand that it delimited exactly the type of fan that I was: the kind that knew what he was and what he liked - his dog, his computer - but not someone who was obsessed with his entire dating history, eager to know his every secret.

The longer Henry ate me out, the clearer it became just how long it’d been since he’d done this. It was obviously something he liked - the way he buried his face against my cunt and engulfed it entirely with his open mouth showed so. And the fact that he licked me and sucked me like he was a starved man? This was a man denied of a pleasure he genuinely enjoyed, that much I was certain of.

“Do you like this?” He asked once he inserted one of his thick fingers inside of me, already stretching me beyond what I could do with my own hand.

“How could I not?” I managed to moan a response, making him chuckle.

“Show me how to find it,” he instructed, eyes sparkling with determination. “I want to find your sweet spot.” I’d never had someone I was with so interested in giving me pleasure before.

Hypnotized, my fingers circled his wrist as best as I could, slowly moving him to run his digits over the top of my channel. He knew when he found it because I cried out for him, closing my eyes momentarily.

“Cum for me,” he ordered, and how could I deny him that, especially when he was looking at me with those darkened eyes? He milked my orgasm until my pussy had stopped clenching around him, but the second that it was done, he growled, getting up to his knees. “Gonna fuck you now.”

He pulled me by my hair, making me moan out loud as he slowly inserted his monster cock inside of me. “Oh, God!” His groan had me panting, cunt clenching around his thickness. I couldn’t understand how I was able to take it, but I was glad that was the case. “So… tight…”

Through his grip on my hair, he pulled me to deposit quick kisses down my jaw. “You take me so well, darling.” It was a compliment I was proud to receive, even though I wasn’t too sure how I managed to earn it in the first place.

“I honestly don’t know how,” I admitted, gasping when he slowly dragged his cock out to slam it in me, but I instinctively pulled my hips away, earning an amused chuckle from him.

“Come back here,” he ordered, already pulling me back to spear me with his painfully hard length. I’d have to be inhuman not to cry out at the feeling of his bulbous head bumping against my cervix. “Are you scared?” He joked as I bit on my bottom lip not to give in and laugh. “You think I’m too big?”

“You’re more than enough, I’ll tell you that.” Now, that had his own laugh escaping his chest, making my body tremble underneath his, inadvertently getting some friction between the both of us. It earned me a moaned out, “Yes…” that got his attention back to where I hoped it would be, and as his eyes settled on me, I briefly wondered if I was prepared for what was to come.

“But now that you got all of me inside of you, do you really want to go?” The whispered question made me shiver. I never expected him to be the type to talk dirty, but then again, I never expected I’d be fucked by him, either.

“No.” It was all the permission he needed.

“Then let me fuck you hard.” And hard he did fuck me. He was hard inside of me, it probably would have been painful for him if he wasn’t so desperately trying to alleviate it by frantically fucking me against the couch.

It was the most deliciously torturous experience I’d ever gone through. I had to bite my lip while I held onto his shoulders for dear life, trying to stop my moans from escaping because I was sure that for once, I’d become a screamer.

Unfortunately, it seemed like Henry didn’t appreciate my efforts to keep his ears from deafening. “What’s wrong?” He questioned, fingers tightening on my hips. “I thought you wanted this.”

Confused, all I could think to say was, “I-I do.”

“Then let me hear you,” he insisted. “You know you can scream all you want. We’re all alone up here on the coast.” Well, he wasn’t wrong. And with that reassurance, I allowed my head to fall back and my mouth to fall open, my moans flowing freely from my body as Henry kept fucking me.

“This is so much better than touching myself in search of a release,” he mumbled at some point, like he was talking to himself. “I was so damn lonely and you have such a tight little pussy.”

Being fucked by him felt like a religious experience. Henry somehow knew the map to my pleasure, easily bringing me to the brink of bliss before I had even managed to wrap my head around this turn of events.

My moans grew louder as I climbed higher and higher, but before I could fully tip over his hand curled around my throat, not constricting any air, just calling my attention.

“Ask for permission, baby.” Just the order had me clenching around him, prompting him to release a moan of his own. All the while, I was groaning in frustration, trying to control myself or say what he wanted me to say, but all that came out of me was, “Goddamn! You can’t say stuff like that.” Henry’s laughter flowed freely once more, making my heart skip a beat. “Why not?”

“Because you’re a fucking movie star and I am not up to fall in love with you.” That had his eyebrows raising in surprise, the smile disappearing from his face before it came back as a teasing smirk.

“Oh, so this is a one-time thing.” The taunting manner in which he said it surprised me in turn, so I hesitated before nodding. I mean, of course it was, right? He didn’t even know me. This was strictly sexual and physical, I would not be fooled by my own hormones. “My cock is not enough for you to want to get to know me some is that it?” … Was he testing me?

“Yes.” His smirk only grew at the word. “This is a one-time thing.”

“We’ll see about that.” His fingers ran down my body to graze over my clit. I sucked in a breath, trying to keep it in, knowing I was going to lose. Eventually, as my thighs began to tremble, I gave in altogether.

“Please, let me cum, please.” His eyes softened at my broken and desperate plea, hand gripping my cheeks as he finally nodded.

“Keep staring at me as you cum,” he commanded, still just as bossy. “Show me how pretty you look when you cream all over my dick.” That was all I needed to succumb to the pleasure he was subjecting me to.

I felt his cock, still hard as it pumped rope after rope of cum inside of me, and by the time I was able to open my eyes again, he was panting over me, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my face.

I didn’t have the time to think about what I should do - push him away, try to pretend this didn’t happen - because the second I began to adjust on the couch, he pulled me to rest against his chest.

“Let’s stay here for a little while,” he quietly asked me. “Then we’ll figure out if there’s enough room for me to take you in your bed.”

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter five rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

“Why are you in such a mood?” Ned asked his best friend as they walked to their college campus. Peter had been grumpy all morning and Ned was quick to notice. He usually showed up at Ned’s door exhausted but eager to share the adventures from the night before, but he seemed defeated today.

“I got my ass beat last night.” Peter grumbled as he shouldered his backpack.

“By who?” Ned wondered.

“I don’t even know.” Peter sighed. “I think it was some kind of alien.”

“What’d it look like?” Ned asked. It wasn’t uncommon for Ned to ask a million questions after being told something Spider-Man related. After all, he was the guy in the chair.

“Like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” Peter said swallowed and tried to push the previous night from his mind. He’d rather focus on this morning, and the moment he had shared with you. Peter felt such a strong connection to you, and he would’ve stayed on that rooftop all day if he could.

“Describe it to me.” Ned pleaded, tearing Peter from his thoughts.

“I don’t know. It was like eight feet tall, black, and bald. And it was super veiny.” Peter grimaced while Ned’s eyes widened.

“Oh my God. You fought Shaquille O’Neal?” Ned gasped.

“Keep your voice down. I did not fight Shaquille O’Neal.” Peter whispered harshly. Ned always seemed one step away from blowing Peters cover. Peter gave bashful smiles to the passing students who gave him weird looks upon hearing Ned’s words.

“Terry Crews?” Ned continued. Peter rolled his eyes at his best friend and starting walking to class.

“No. This is serious.” Peter said, his voice heavy with annoyance.

“I know it’s serious. You got beat up by The Rock.” Ned remarked. Peter fidgeted with the strings on his backpack, still bothered knowing he was beaten so easily by Venom.

“The Rock is Samoan, not black.” Peter corrected.

“I know. But I heard “bald” and I just automatically envisioned The Rock.” Ned defended.

“There’s another thing. It had this huge, gaping mouth with rows and rows of teeth. I keep thinking about it.” Peter shivered. “It came so close to me. And its tongue was super long. It was like a cracked out frog.”

“So a ninja turtle? You got beat up by a ninja turtle?” Ned gawked.

“It wasn’t a ninja turtle.” Peter snapped. “ It was black, remember?”

“So an emo ninja turtle.” Ned deadpanned.

“It kept saying “we”. “ Peter remembered.

“What do you mean?”

“There was only one of them, but they only referred to themself as “we” as if there were multiple of them.” Peter explained.

“Do you think there could be more? Like an alien army or something?” Ned asked incredulously. Peter hadn’t even thought about that.

“Maybe. I remember something else, it’s name was Venom.” Peter recalled. He distinctly remembered those words coming out of the creatures mouth.

“Venom?” Ned repeated, clearly finding it cool.

“Yeah. And I told it my name. I used my regular voice too.” Peter realized. He usually disguised his voice when speaking, but he had been so scared that he forgot to. It haunted him knowing the creature now knew who he was and he wondered if it knew both of his identities.

“Wow. This is so cool. Not cool for you, because you might die. But this is super cool for me.” Ned smiled as he envisioned what Venom might look like.

“Thanks, ned. Actually, wait.” Peter stopped in his tracks. “One more thing happened.”

“What?” Ned whispered as they approached their class.

“Venom was about to eat me but then it started talking to itself. It sounded maybe like it was having a conversation with someone? I’m not sure, I could only hear one side of it.” Peter explained. “It put me down, well it threw me down, and let me go. But before it left, it said something about a girl. I don’t really remember. I was too focused on catching my breath.”

“Catching your breath? Were you running?”

“No. It choked me.” Peter told him as he lightly touched his neck.

“Kinky.” Ned smirked as he took a seat next to Peter in their class.

“That’s gross.” Peter stifled a laugh. “Did I tell you about this morning with Y/N?”

“No. Tell me.” Ned said. He wasn’t disappointed in the change of topic. He was glad Peter had moved on on from Liz, finally. Peter recounted the discussion he had with you that morning, barely getting through it without blushing and laughing at certain parts.

“I really like her, Ned. More than I’ve ever liked anyone. She’s so amazing. I barely know her, but I can tell already. I want to know everything about her. I want to hear her full story. And most of all, I want to be a part of that story.” Peter declared but frowned suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” Ned asked.

“After our talk, we just kinda sat there staring at each other for a while.” Peter began. “She kinda leaned in, and I did too, but then this seagull flew by and scared us half to death. We laughed about it but the moment was gone.”

“So you almost kissed her?” Ned smiled. “Why is that upsetting you?”

“Because what if that was our chance and I blew it?” Peter feared. “What if that seagull was a sign from above that I was in way over my head? Like God was asking me who I was to think I could just kiss the most perfect girl in the world? She’s so cool, Ned. Way too cool for me. She’s already had a boyfriend and I’ve never even kissed anyone.”

“If it’s meant to happen, it will happen.” Ned assured him.

“Or, the same thing that happened with Liz will happen.” Peter argued. “I won’t tell her how I feel and then she’ll be gone forever.”

“Then don’t let that happen.” Ned reasoned. “Tell Y/N how you feel. Do it tonight, before you go on patrol. And if she doesn’t feel the same, then at least you’ll know. Isn’t it better to know?”

“When did you become such a love expert?” Peter teased as the professor walked into the room.

“Since I started dating Betty. She’s opened my eyes to what love really is.” Ned shrugged. “Tell her tonight. Then tell me how it goes. I’m here for you either way.”

Peter nodded and gave Ned a thankful smile before turning his attention to the professor.

On his walk home from campus, Peter spotted you walking down the sideways. Ned’s words of encouragement rang in his ears and he made a brash decision.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up!” Peter called after you, making you turn around.

“Hey Parker. How was kindergarten?” You teased him.

“Alright alright. Majoring in chemical engineering is hardly kindergarten. And I’m only one year younger than you.” Peter reminded you. “I don’t want you to have a heart attack on me, grandma.”

“Watch it, sonny.” You kept with the joke. “I’ll hit you with my purse and then say something mildly racist.”

“Just like my grandma.” Peter laughed in amusement. “We’re gross. And not funny.”

“We really are.” You scrunched your nose. “Couple of gross ass orphans.”

Peter laughed again, feeling comfortable enough with you to joke about a tragic situation.

“Look, Y/N, I really enjoyed our talk this morning. I really enjoyed all our talks so far actually. I guess I just like talking to you. ” Peter began. He looked nervous all the sudden, like he lost his stamina. You raised your eyebrows hopefully, as there were only so many ways this conversation could go.

“I like talking to you too, Peter.” You said honestly, hoping he’d continue. Hoping he’d ask that question. Your answer seemed to give Peter the confidence he needed to go on.

“Really? Um, that’s great cause I really like talking to you too. I already said that. Oh god. I’m crashing. I-“ he began to flail and you calmed him down by taking a few steps closer. You were almost touching at that point. He stopped talking immediately and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Is there someone you wanted to ask me, Peter?” You asked slowly as you looked at him through your eyelashes.

Damn. He was tall too.

“Yes, actually. I, um, will you…would you maybe want to-“

“Hiya kids!” A gravely voice came from the front stairs of your apartment, completely cutting Peter off. Peter looked up and angrily rolled his eyes.

“Don’t look now. It’s Henry.” Peter grumbled. Henry was the creepy neighbor with the foot fetish.

“Oh Dear God.” Peter said in a low voice.

“What?” You panicked when you saw Peters expression change.

“You’re wearing flip flops.” He pointed at your black painted toes and you felt the color drain from your face.

“Run!” He whispered harshly. You bolted into your apartment and Peter ran into his. Once inside, Peter blew out an angry breath. He had been interrupted twice in one day when trying to talk to you, and he worried that it was a sign.

Back at the apartment, you sat on your bed with headphones in. You were prepping for your interview with Cletus Kasady by writing down some questions you wanted to ask him. It was hard figuring out what to ask a serial killer. You looked at your notepad and sighed. All you had written down was “but why tho?” in sloppy handwriting. You tore out the page, crumbled it up, and threw it at the trash can. When you went to write something else down, you noticed the paper ball still stuck to your hand. You shook your hand but it still wouldn’t come off.

“What the hell?” You grumbled as you shook your hand.

“Oh. This might be our fault.” Venom said suddenly.

“What might be your fault?” You asked as you continued to shake the paper off your hand, but to no avail.

“We sort of went inside Spider-Man when we were talking to him yesterday.” Venom said timidly and the paper ball dropped from your hand.

“What?” You demanded and Venom went silent.

“Come out here.” You said, like an owner to a dog.

“We’d rather stay inside.” Venom said softly.

“Get out here now. You need to explain yourself young lady.” You said sternly. Venom slowly manifested and looked at you with sad eyes.

“I’m 600 million years old, by the way.” Venom added. “You can’t call me young lady.”

“What do you mean you went inside Spider-Man?” You ignored her comment.

“When we were choking him we put one of our tendrils inside him and swirled around.” Venom explained. “He didn’t even feel it. We did though. He’s very squishy on the inside.”

“You…what?” You didn’t even know where to start. “How does that explain the paper sticking to me?”

“We think we absorbed his powers.” Venom said. “We used to watch videos of him on YouTube after you went to bed. He can stick to walls and stuff. We think that’s why the paper ball stuck to you.”

“Since when can we absorb powers?” You wondered as you looked at your hands.

“We never had a host before. We don’t really know how it works.” Venom reminded you. “But back on Klyntar, our home planet, the Grandmaster used to tell us we could absorb the powers of superhuman beings. Judging by your newfound stickiness, we think it worked.”

“What else can Spider-Man do?” You asked. “Since you’re such a big fan.”

“He can shoot webs out of his wrists. And he can return lost dogs.” Venom answered, sounding a little annoyed.

“Do you have something against Spider-Man?” You chuckled a little at her tone.

“We hate what he did last night. He thought we were the bad guy, and he let the real bad guy get away. He judged us before he had the full story. We’re not a bad guy.” Venom defended. You were surprised to hear how passionate she was about this and gave her a soft smile.

“Let’s not worry about Spider-Man right now. I want to test out our new abilities. Let’s rock and roll, baby.” You cheered, complete with rock and roll hands. The second you touched your middle finger and ring finger to your palm, a black, web-like tendril shot out from your wrist and stuck to the ceiling. You stared at the web with a gaping mouth, weakly shaking your wrist to see if it would stay attached.

It did.

“Maybe that’s one of our new abilities.” Venom said. You looked back and forth between her and the gooey web coming out of your wrist.

“Oh my God! What’s happening?” You screamed. You took your fingers off your palm and the web retracted back into your wrist. Looking at your wrist incredulously, you made the rock and roll hand again and the same web shot out from your wrist. This time, it grabbed the ceiling fan.

“V-Venom?” You asked. You didn’t know what to say.

“Try to aim it at something.” She suggested. You aimed your wrist and the lamp across the room and touched your fingers to your palm. The black web shot across the room and grabbed onto the lamp. You quickly yanked your arm back to pull the lamp towards yourself. The lamp flew across the room, smashed you in the face, and left you with a bloody nose.

“Ow.” You cried, gingerly touching your nose.

“We see this as a absolutely win.” Venom cheered. You shot her a look and went to get cleaned up.

After about a week of practice, and very little work on your questions for Cletus, you had a better handle on your webbing ability. Of course, the week also consisted of long talks with Peter on the roof, late patrols of New York, the occasional run in with a criminal, late night FaceTime calls with Peter, and beating the shit out of Spider-Man, twice. Venom eventually grew bored of using the new powers around the house, so it was time for the final test.

You stood at the rooftop ledge and looked down, talking a deep breath to calm your nerves.

“It’s a long way down.” You commented.

“Yep.” Venom replied in your head.

“We could die.” You added.

“Yep.”

“Ready?”

“We’re ready.” Venom grinned as you transformed. You stepped off the ledge and fell freely for a while, screaming the whole way down.

“Stop being a little bitch! Shoot a web!” Venom yelled. You aimed a web at a building and began to swing. You were too close to the ground and ended up knocking over a bunch of tables at an outdoor restaurant. People ran away in fear while others took out their cameras and recorded.

“We’re not here to hurt you! Peace and love!” Venom shouted as you continued to swing through the steers of New York. People began to cheer upon hearing your words.

“Do you hear that, Y/N? People are cheering. They love us.” Venom said happily.

“I love us too.” You replied. You were even happier than she was. You knew how much it hurt Venom to be seen as a monster, it was why she hated being called a parasite. You also knew it was why she hated Spider-Man. He was praised for stopping bad guys while Venom was seen as one of the bad guys he needed to stop.

“Hey, what is that thing?” A man called from the street. Venom stopped swinging and landed on the street. You proudly turned to the crowd of people, a massive grin on your face. There it was, our favorite question.

“We…are Venom.” Venom growled. People took pictures and videos of you from a distance.

“You can come closer. We won’t hurt you.” Venom assured the crowd.

“Are you like the anti Spider-Man?” Someone asked.

“Spider-Man is a joke. He can’t protect this city like we can. We are no Spider-Man. We are Venom.” Venom roared. A few people took a step back and you began to feel uneasy.

“Hey, King Kong. I want a word with you.” A sassy voice quipped from the crowd. A man in yellow sunglasses and a suit stepped forward, and you bet your ass you recognized him.

“My name is Tony Stark. Heard of me? Of course you have. Would you mind coming back to my tower with me?” He asked, but it felt more like a demand. The people in the crowd slowly dispersed and soon, you stood there alone with Tony.

“Be nice. Say yes.” You told Venom.

“Who is this guy?” She asked out loud.

“I just said my name.” Tony said, slightly annoyed.

“He’s a really famous inventor. I’ll explain later. Just follow him please.” You begged. Venom gave Tony a once over and followed him to a limo.

“Yea, you’re gonna ride up top big guy.” Tony said, patting the roof of the car.

“Girl.” Venom growled. Tony looked surprised.

“My apologies ma’am.” He raised surprised eyebrows. You rode on top of his car all the way to his tower, wondering what he could possibly want with you.

The inside of his tower was huge. Tony lead you to a lab that was bigger than yours and Peters apartments combined.

“I’ve seen videos of you on YouTube. Seems like you and Spider-Man aren’t the best of friends.” Tony remarked as he pulled out an iPad.

“We will crush his bones and snort them like cocaine.” Venom growled. Tony was just as surprised to hear that as you were.

“Now that’s a visual.” Tony smirked. “I’ll have you know, Spider-Man is a friend of mine. He’s not your biggest fan either but from what I’ve seen, you’ve done this city some good since you’ve been here. How long has that been?”

“Two weeks.” Venom answered.

“I thought so. I’d never seen you before then. And since your arrival, petty crime has dropped significantly in Queens. Criminals are too scared of getting eaten to do anything. Don’t get me wrong, I love Spider-Man and I’ll kill you if you tell him that, but no one fears him. He gets the job done, but there’s always another job to do. With you, on the other hand, your mere presence is preventing crime before it even happens.” Tony smiled to himself, like he was just given a new toy. “You’re scary, is what I’m trying to say. But you’re a good guy. It’s rare. I want it to stay that way. I want you on my team.”

“Team?”

“We’re called the Avengers. We had a bit of a falling out but the name still stands.” Tony waved his hand. “We fight bad guys together. Really, really bad guys. I think you could us some good. Plus, you’ll be taken care of for life and we’ll only call you in for serious threats. But I need a few things from you first.”

“Like what?”

“Your story.” He pointed a finger at you. “How does a giant, anthropomorphic alien wind up in New York City?”

“It’s a long story.” Venom answered.

“We can trust this man, Venom.” You told her telepathically. “I’m gonna come out okay?” Venom hesitated and Tony looked impatient to know more.

“Are you sure?” She asked you. Tony looked confused.

“Am I sure?” He pointed to himself.

“Not you.” She said. Tony looked around for who else Venom could be talking to and found no one.

“I’m sure.” You decided. “This guy is one of the good guys. We can trust him. I promise. I’m coming out.”

You slowly transformed back into yourself in front of Tonys wide eyes. Venom stayed in her snake-like form and rested on your neck.

“Hello, Mr. Stark. My name is Y/N L/N.” You shyly introduced yourself. “This is Venom. We want to help.”

Tony’s face shifted from shocked to impressed as he looked you over.

“I gotta say, I did not except someone like you to be inside that scary monster.” Tony chuckled.

“We’re not a monster, Mr. Stark. We want to help people.” You reminded him.

“I can see that.” Tony nodded. “That’s why I’ve been developing you a suit.”

“When did you do that?” You wondered. “We just met.”

“Oh, I know. I’ve been designing it while you talked. I want you to have it incase you and Venom get separated. That way, you’ll be protected until you’re back together.” Tony explained as he showed you his ipad. Sure enough, it had a drawing of a suit on it.

“I’ll get started right away. I just need a little piece of Venom. If I make the suit using her skin, you’ll have the total protection you need.” You looked at Venom for consent, who nodded and extended a tendril towards Tony. He quickly snipped a piece off and put it in a container.

“When will the suit be ready? A few months?” You asked as Tony tapped the container. Tony stopped looking at the container and laughed.

“Y/N, I’m a genius inventor. Go get lunch. It’ll be ready when you’re done.” He said.

And he wasn’t kidding. An hour and a half later, Tony presented you with a suit. You ran my fingers over it slowly, not wanted to disturb a single thing. You looked at it in awe, completely speechless at what he had created.

“Go on, try it on.” He shrugged casually. You grinned from ear to ear before rushing to the bathroom to put it on. You came out soon enough with tears in you eyes.

“You like it?” Tony asked. You looked at your covered hands in amazement. The suit was jet black, like Venom was, and hugged your body like a second skin. There was a big white spider symbol on the front, the complete opposite of Spider-Mans small black one. You figured it was a nod to being called the anti Spider-Man and it was perfect.

“Well?” Tony was still waiting for an answer. You looked up at him just as a few tears fell down you cheeks.

“We didn’t celebrate my birthday growing up because it was the anniversary of my moms death. I used to be so upset every year.” You blurted. Tony looked like he didn’t know what to say and you couldn’t blame him. That was something deeply personal and you had only just met him.

“What I’m trying to say is, I get it now.” You explained. “All those missed birthdays were for a reason. I didn’t get gifts those days because I’m getting the ultimate gift right now. This is the most amazing thing I could’ve asked for. I cannot thank you enough Mr. Stark. I’ll never take it off.”

“You can’t take it off anyway.” Tony told you. “When you don’t want to wear it, it absorbs back into your skin like Venom does. And it’s equipped with Venoms essential abilities. It’s bullet proof, knife proof, taser proof, spork proof and so on. And you can still shoot your webby things. You just won’t have super strength, super speed, or that Venus flytrap mouth of yours.”

You tested it out and shot a web towards his desk. You grabbed a pen and caught it with ease, then looked at Tony for approval.

“That’s the best I could do. It’s no Iron Man suit but it’ll suffice.” Tony said casually. You couldn’t take it anymore and rushed towards him to hug him tightly.

“Thank you.” You said into his chest. Tony patted your back awkwardly and you let go.

“It’s nothing. You can thank me by not eating Spider-Man. I know he’s annoying but he doesn’t mean any harm. Now go forth and do good.” Tony requested.

You swung back to the apartment and landed on the roof. You turned back into yourself and made your way down the steps to your floor. After this mornings conversation with Peter and the incredible suit from Mr. Stark, you were having a great day. For the first time in years, you couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S5 Ep 36 Part 2: It took like 100+ Episodes, but We Finally Found Seto’s Dead Wife

For April Fools I decided to actually make an update on this blog in a timely matter from the last update. Consider yourself Pranked.

So Shada and Seto are having a bit of a fight about how Seto’s just kind of throwing everyone into prison and we’re running out of essential workers. Not that much of a surprise that Shada and Seto don’t like eachother, but it does make you wonder--does anyone in the cult even like Seto other than Aknadin (which...that’s stuff we will get to later at the end of this episode) honestly, it’s kind of hard to tell.

Oh and PS they’re being carried on one of those hand held chariots which makes this whole segment just a lot more funny.

(Even in the past, Seto largely is being used for a ride).

Anyway, he exits the roller coaster and is like “For your information, I’m NOT a mass murderer, SHADA.” In front of like allll these people standing behind him within earshot. To which Shada was like “but you can calm down, youknow? Like can you ever calm down? A little bit? Maybe?”

It was a conversation that does not matter because Shada decided to go along with it anyway, and is now going to help Seto for the rest of this episode just slurping up soul demons, as you do.

Freakin Shadi, man. To think he was just always like this. Helping people one moment, screwing people the next...whatever Shadi, you do you.

(read more under the cut)

During this Episode, Bakura did a lot of artsy shots for the commercials, just shooting his own music video, doing things that really had like...eh no bearing on the plot but I’m sure they looked cool for the trailer.

Here he got really wet and then was like “Time to go kill everyone else, I guess” and then exited the scene.

That’s it, that’s the whole scene, and I’m glad that the creators of this show knows what the fans of their show want: wet Bakura with little reason as to why.

So Seto decides to do some public trials with Shada just square in the middle of the street. A very Monty Python “bring out your dead!” moment because I’m sure everyone just started chucking their neighbors onto the pyre. Like I have this neighbor who has this brand new lawn mulch and bushes they put in because it’s a freakin drought, and they stuck a bunch of signs on it that say “Do Not Poop Or Pee. Be Respectful.” with a picture of a dog with an X over it and also a picture of the police and also a picture of a security camera (which I guess they will hand over to the police? Not sure). That guy would hand over like half the town in a heartbeat.

Really want to know what “disrespect the pharaoh” means in this context, especially since their current Pharaoh has been Pharaoh for 5 minutes and has already burned down the town once and then the next day put the entire city under martial law.

Right about the time Seto was about to give up and go home with just a single dumbass clown in his arsenal, Season 2 happened.

Some footage for your AMVs. Yugioh knew what teens wanted in 2003.

Speaking of over-done fx and what teens wanted in 2003, did you hear that the Avatar the Last Airbender live action Netflix remake cost 15 million dollars an episode to make? :) :) :) :) :) :) Only a matter of time before it gets cancelled and we’re one adaptation closer to an absolutely terrible Yugioh one, you know it’s going to happen. :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :)

Anyway it’s been five minutes and Joey ran out of snacks.

(right after I made this post PS, I went onto twitter and saw a tweet that said “You ever open a TinTin from the 80′s that looks like it was drawn in 1870?” so like apparently I was being way more gracious than I thought.)

I figured I’ve used enough TW’s for one Yugioh blog, lets just crop out his entire face, because that’s funnier. Honestly the worst part of him is his accent, and thankfully that can’t be truly expressed with written words.

Besides, we gotta get sidetracked from the genie and meet the wife, who is getting literally stoned to death.

Kind of a lot of whiplash this episode, huh!? But it wouldn’t be an anime without whiplash, would it?

Joey remarks “oh, that’s why the rocks aren’t hurting me like at all.” And it was like...Joey.

Anyway, welcome to Seto’s girlfriend. From what I can gather this episode, this girl is constantly in a state of distress. Like honestly I don’t know much about her, but I dunno if there’s been a single moment in this girl’s entire life where she isn’t in the process of getting killed or being killed, except when Seto is around or when she is a Dragon.

I get that her having the worst monster around means no one likes her, but also...she should just eat them. Like I can see why people like this ship--I don’t want to sound like a ship hater--because she lacks security and he can give her security, and that’s very much part of writing a romantic lead. You have to have two people that lack something that the other person can give them for the audience to fall for it.

But this is very much the token girlfriend that you fall in love with because she needs to be saved by a powerful man, however, she’s already the most powerful monster besides the God Cards. Like she’s freaking buffed as hell, man. So...maybe it made more sense on paper. Maybe it’ll make more sense next episode.

Overall, Yugioh ain’t great at writing girls (or romance) and that is nothing new. They had SO MANY EPISODES of building up this girl, too. But my expectations were low, and they were met.

Anyway Seto arrives and is like “oh crap I know this girl from my childhood oh crap.” and suddenly has a moment of “should I steal her soul demon like I said I would, although no one actually wants me to do that at all, or do I...not?”

Remember that like 10 minutes earlier Aknadin and Shadi and basically everyone was like “just stop taking the demons for five seconds you have enough monsters in your obelisk” but like...Seto promised to do this, because in Seto’s mind, he’s doing this soul stealing to help the Pharaoh, after all--the Pharaoh who is Yami and absolutely doesn’t need him to steal a damn thing because he already has God Cards.

Bro was like “Seto might be ripped but look at the bricks behind him” and yeah. Basically everyone in Egypt lifts in their spare time. Life before the internet, man.

That’s also what I assume everyone in the 1980′s was doing too, instead of sitting around writing Yugioh blog posts and eating these offbrand thin mints.

(You wouldn’t believe it but I drove all the way to Safeway in This Economy and not only is Girl Scout season over, but all of the Keebler grasshopper cookies were gone, so I had to get the Safeway storebrand of the offbrand thin mint and it’s fine. It’s a fine cookie, but it has an aftertaste that is very weird.)

And so Seto whisks away this girl while Shada just kinda lets it happen, because Shada just does whatever.

Not sure why he needed to keep it a secret from Pharaoh though. Was he worried that Yami would be like “No saving dying girls in this house, Seto!” Because while everyone else seems to know about Yami’s personality and overall willingness to save dying human beings--Seto seems dubious.

But Seto is a sort of paranoid person anyway so that tracks.

Next time we find out more about dragon girlfriend and if she ever had a good day in her entire life and you already know, she has not.

Anyway, here’s the list of each episode in chrono order for you if you want to read these from the beginning:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By Your Doorstep (Part 1)

Summary: When the reader is looking for her teenage sister’s service dog one day, she runs into Dean Winchester who thankfully saw him run past. When she arrives, her sister is fine aside from a sprained ankle but Dean’s decided to follow along and help get her sister home...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 3,200ish

Warnings: language, minor injury, mention of car accident/death

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Please enjoy this first part! …

_________

“Toast! Toast!” you shouted as you ran down a street. “Toast boy!”

“Uh, you okay?” said a guy walking on the other side of the street. He was raising an eyebrow and you shook your head.

“Toast is a dog,” you said.

“Oh, gotcha. I thought you were nuts for a minute,” he chuckled.

“You haven’t seen a german shepard around have you?” you asked.

“I saw one run down the block a few minutes ago,” he said. You looked the direction he pointed and you started sprinting. “Hey!”

“Sorry! Can’t talk!” you shouted back. You ran down the block and across the street over to the park. You ran over to the basketball court and saw Toast there next to Tessa. She was sat up and holding onto his vest when you jogged over to her. “Tess. Are you okay? Did you have a seizure?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. She was holding her ankle and you saw the swelling. “I think I broke it playing. My phone’s over in my bag. I told Toast to get it but I guess he ran home and got you instead.”

“He barged in through the doggy door, I thought he was just nuts at first,” you said. You heard footsteps behind you and the man from the street was there panting.

“You found your dog,” he said as he caught his breath. 

“Yeah,” you said, the man wincing when he saw Tessa’s ankle. “We’re all set.”

“She needs a doctor,” he said.

“Tessa, you okay here while I run home to get my car?” you asked.

“Yeah I’m fine,” she said. “Toast’ll stay.”

“I can carry her,” said the man. You both stared at him and he shrugged. “Save you a trip.”

“Are you some kind of weirdo?” you asked. 

“Says the woman running through the neighborhood shouting Toast,” he smiled back.

“Alright. Tess if you’re cool with it…” you said, the man nodding.

“Dean Winchester.”

“Dean will carry you back to the house and I’ll drive you to urgent care,” you said. “If you do try anything though Dean, Toast will rip your face and junk off, just to be clear.”

“Got the message,” he said. Tessa climbed on his back and he was careful of her ankle while you grabbed her bag. You walked with Toast by Dean’s side back the few blocks towards home. “I think it’s just a sprain actually. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“You play basketball?” you asked.

“No. I’m a doctor is all. First glance it doesn’t look too bad.”

“Are you single? Y/N’s single,” she said.

“You’re a little shit, Tessa,” you said. Dean chuckled and Toast bumped his leg. “He wants you to get on the sidewalk.”

“Will do,” he said, Toast giving some space once he’d stepped up off the road. “He’s very intelligent.”

“We’ve only had Toast two years but he’s been very good with us,” you said. “He’s Tessa’s. I just feed him and pick up his poop.”

“I have school, loser.”

“I have work, loser,” you said. 

“You guys must be sisters,” he said. “I’m a big brother. I would know.”

“If your younger brother is single and half as good looking-”

“Keep it in your pants, Tess,” you said. 

“I like you two,” he chuckled. “Sorry Tessa but he’s probably a little too old for you.”

“They always are,” she sighed.

“You’re seventeen. You’re fine,” you said. “Besides college has way more attractive guys and stuff.”

“Oh yeah, Elmdale community college. Known for it’s hotties,” she mumbled.

“Elmdale University has some good choices,” you said.

“I thought it was too expensive,” she said.

“Well I was gonna tell you this at dinner but I applied for a different job awhile ago. I heard back this morning. I accepted. It’s double what I was making before.”

“Really?”

“Yes. With your grades you can get a half-ride and I figure between inheritance and my new salary, you can do your four year out of the gate without loans,” you said.

“Thanks, Y/N,” she said quietly. “Really.”

“You still need your part-time job if you want to get stuff for yourself though. I’m sorry. I can’t make it work if-”

“S’okay,” she said. “I can’t believe I can go to the university.”

“I called up the school earlier and talked to your guidance counselor. We gotta work on your application but we can make it work,” you said.

“Can I get a car? I know I can’t afford room and board but maybe I can get something used so you don’t have to drive me all the time?” she asked.

“Tessa…” you sighed. You knew you couldn’t afford insurance on two cars at the moment and everything else and she wouldn’t make enough part time to cover all the car expenses herself. “I-”

“I can pick up more shifts,” she said.

“Tessa, I want you to enjoy college. I sure did. I’ll give you rides whenever you want. I’ll drop you off in the morning and pick you up at night. That would work, right?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I don’t even care about my ankle. I can get my art degree!” she said.

“Tessa.”

“I’m joking,” she laughed. “Art minor?”

“You can minor in whatever you like but please for my sanity major in something you can get a job in?” you asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said. You rounded a corner and started to walk up a driveway, Dean setting Tessa down in the passenger seat of your car. You opened the back and Toast jumped in, Dean smiling when you shut both the doors.

“Thanks,” you said. “For helping us out.”

“Sounds like you two know how to solve problems on your own,” he said. “Happy to help. Here.”

He dug in his back pocket and pulled out a card.

“If you ever need a doctor, I’m two blocks over,” he said. “Or just to talk.”

“Thanks,” you said. “I’ll see you around, Dean.”

It was around nine when you were sitting on the front porch with a glass of whiskey in your hand. You drank slowly, eyes catching a man in a baseball cap and reflective shirt jogging by.

“Do you always run at night?” you called, Dean stopping at your front walkway. “Cause I never see you run at night and I sit out here a lot.”

“Whew well let’s stop that charade cause running is so not my thing,” he said. He breathed hard for a moment as he walked up the steps. You nodded to the other chair and poured him a glass, Dean drinking it down. “Your sister okay?”

“Yeah. Just a sprain,” you said. “Still gotta pay the deductible for the x-ray though.”

“How old are you?”

“How old are you?” you asked.

“Thirty one,” he said.

“Twenty eight.”

“Where are your folks?” he asked.

“They and Tessa were in an accident two years ago. It’s just us two now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m slowly getting used to be a guardian,” you said.

“I raised my little brother. My parents are still around but they fought a lot. I get becoming the parent when you’re not ready.”

“Do you ever get to just be a sibling again?” you asked.

“Yes. But they have to grow up first and you got a few more years ahead of you before it happens,” he said.

“I figured.”

“What does she have? Toast is a service dog I saw.”

“She gets seizures sometimes. It’s from the accident. She hasn’t had one in seven months. Fingers crossed we got her on the right mix of meds finally,” you said.

“So who takes care of you?”

“My buddy Jack Daniels. Sometimes I hang out Jim Bean too.”

“I’m partial to Johnny Walker,” smiled Dean.

“Very nice. I don’t drink much. Too tired most of the time,” you said.

“So nobody takes care of you then.”

“Who takes care of you?”

“Good point,” he said. “But I didn’t have it this rough.”

“We’re getting by. We always do.”

“I have no doubt that you can,” he said. “Take care of yourself every once in a while is all.”

“When she’s done with school I will.”

“She’s got five years left. You won’t last that long,” he said.

“Watch me.”

“Who worked on your sister at the urgent care tonight?”

“Dr. Novak. Why?”

“Cas is a good friend. I’ll see about getting that x-ray test off the bill,” he said as he stood up.

“Dean, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s no trouble,” he said, heading down the steps. “You want me to leave you alone from now on?”

“...No.”

“You want to go on a date tomorrow?”

“Okay,” you said.

“I’ll pick you up at noon? I’m buying. Nothing too fancy,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. He smiled and nodded, spinning around and sliding right off the last two steps to his bottom. You rushed down them and he groaned, shaking his head. “Are you okay?”

“Yup,” he said, grunting as he stood. “Oh my ass hurts.”

“That’s what she said,” you said, Dean laughing.

“I definitely like you,” he said as you helped him take a few steps. “I’m alright. I’ll swing by tomorrow then.”

“Bye Dean,” you said.

“Bye Dean!” called Tessa from her bedroom window upstairs.

“Oh my God, go to bed!” you shouted back.

“It’s nine and I’m not twelve,” she said.

“Goodnight ladies,” chuckled Dean, waving as he headed back down the path. You gathered up the bottle and glasses, bringing them inside and locking up for the night. A few minutes later you were upstairs in Tessa’s room, frowning as she giggled while looking through her phone.

“Oh come on,” she said as she rolled her eyes at you. “He’s cute, he’s a doctor, he’s single and he’s a dork that just fell on his butt in front of you cause he’s so nervous and trying to play it cool. Like what is wrong with him?”

“Nothing. We have a date tomorrow,” you said, leaning against the doorframe. 

“We used to talk about guys,” she said. 

“I know,” you said. You picked at the wood, Tessa putting her phone down.

“Y/N. You’re not my mom. I know you gotta act like her sometimes but you’re not. Mom and dad would want you to go on dates and stuff. I haven’t seen you do anything fun in years.”

“I barely knew how to be an adult for just me,” you said. “You’re my priority now.”

“I’m not in a hospital bed anymore. My seizures are under control and I got Toast to watch out for me just in case. Dean had a point. You gotta take care of yourself,” she said. “Including me going to community college.”

“Tessa-”

“It’s both our inheritance and you can’t spend all of it on me. I can do two years at community and transfer to the university after.”

“Tess. You don’t have to do that. I did the math and it’ll work out.”

“When’s the last time you bought something for yourself? Seriously when?”

“I bought a new bedspread two weeks ago.”

“You needed one. That doesn’t count. When-”

“Before mom and dad died, Tess. Is that what you want me to say? They made good money but you had medical bills. Do I want a new winter coat? Sure. Do I want to splurge and by myself a nice pair of leggings? Of course. I want things. But I want us to stay in this house. I don’t want us to get shoved in a tiny apartment. I want you to be able to go to college like I did and not worry about this crap. I’m the grown up, not you. I choose how to spend the money.”

“Fine,” she said. She grabbed the crutch by her bed and got up, going to her dresser. She opened her jewelry box and grabbed a wad of cash, holding it out to you. “It’s three hundred. I want you to have it.”

“Tessa, no.”

“I earned it. I get to choose how to spend it,” she said. “You’ve always told me that. Buy a coat and leggings and whatever else you want.”

“Tessa. It’s yours. You were saving up to buy an iphone.”

“I don’t need a fucking phone. I need my sister to stop looking like she cries herself to sleep every night. Just take it,” she said. You shook your head and she shoved the money in your hand. “Y/N, take it.”

“Alright,” you said. 

“Good.” She waited a beat before pulling you into a hug. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said. “You got plans tomorrow night?”

“I was gonna sleepover Hailey’s house if that’s okay?” she said.

“Yeah. You guys have fun,” you said. “Just be careful on your ankle.”

“Duh,” she said. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“I’m kinda beat. Sunday for sure?” you said. 

“Okay. Night,” she said.

“Night, Tess,” you said. You went next door to your room, opening your desk drawer and opening the envelope inside. You counted the money she’d given you and added it to the front. You definitely had enough for her phone now and her birthday was only a few weeks away. You smiled and put it away, writing out a few bills before you gathered up your pajamas and walked down the hall to the bathroom. You kept going though, down to the shut door. You pushed it open, the room cold and dark. You flipped on a light, a coating of dust on everything again.

“Y/N?” said Tessa from the other end of the hall. You turned off the light and shut the door, Tessa by the bathroom when you walked back. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna shower quick before bed. Shout if you need something.”

“Yeah. Night.”

Dean POV

“Hey, Sammy,” said Dean after he’d gotten out of the shower and was laying in bed. 

“Hey, Dean. What’s up?” asked Sam on the other end of the phone. 

“I think I just went full on weirdo on this girl I met today.”

“Well that’s obvious but what’d you do? You didn’t like stalk her or anything.”

“She lives in the neighborhood. I kinda went jogging past her house tonight and she was sat on the front porch.”

“Okay that’s kinda creepy,” said Sam. Dean ran his hand over his face and sighed. “Did you talk to her?”

“Yeah. I don’t think I gave off creeper vibes but she might have just been polite. I don’t know. We’re going out tomorrow,” said Dean. He was quiet as he shut his eyes. “Which sucks cause I really like her too. I hope she doesn’t think I’m weird.”

“Maybe she’ll have pity on you and let it slide. Where’d you meet her? I thought you swore off women after your last hookup went bad,” he said. Dean didn’t speak and ran his hand over his face again. “De I know something happened that night.”

“Sammy I got tired of hooking up. I’m too old for it. I just want a girl to go home to at the end of the day and laugh with. That’s all there is to it,” said Dean.

“Dean I was still living with you at the time. You were off for days. I know-”

“If you’re gonna bring this shit up again-”

“I’m just saying it’s nice to hear you excited about a girl again...and you can tell me anything. Anything, Dean. I’m not a kid anymore.”

“You’re twenty seven. You’re a kid,” said Dean. He rolled over on the bed and lay on his stomach, putting his hands under his chin. “Some things I just don’t tell you about, Sam.”

“Dean, I asked you to stop raising me awhile ago. You’re not my father anymore.”

“I still gotta protect you from stuff,” said Dean with a shrug.

“I get that. But my mind has gone to the worst case scenario on this more than once. Just promise it wasn’t that,” said Sam.

“Sammy, I called to talk about a girl.”

“You want things to work out with her? Then figure out whatever the hell happened in the past so it doesn’t happen again.”

“You don’t understand,” said Dean. 

“Whatever. Just crack a joke next time you see her,” said Sam. He hung up and Dean looked at his phone, sighing before he jammed his face in the bed. He gripped the sheets tight and felt his heart rate pick up, bile rising up in the back of his throat.

“Stop. It,” he said to himself, forcing himself to sit up. He wiped off his eye and dropped his head to his chest. “It’s just a fucking girl. It’s just a girl, it’s just a date. It’s all it is.”

He saw his phone light up and Sam’s name appear. He swiped and put it on speaker before he faced away from it.

“I’m sorry,” said Sam. 

“It’s okay,” said Dean, freezing when he sniffled. He stared at the phone and Sam cleared his throat.

“You alright?” Dean stared at the phone and shook his head. “De, you there?”

“Are you alone?” he asked.

“Yes…” said Sam. “It’s just me.”

“You repeat a word of this to anybody or you laugh or you tease me or-”

“Hey. I’d rather we not have this conversation over the phone. I can be there in an hour.”

“...Fine but you better bring some pie with you.”

“I’ll see you in an hour, Dean.”

______

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[babymetaldoll]

Nemesis (Spencer Reid/Reader)

Requested: Can I request a Spencer x reader where they’re dating and she’s always been quiet about her past but then a case comes up in her hometown and her whole past gets uncovered and it’s pretty bad. That’s when they realize why she had been acting like that.

Summary: A case takes the team back to Seattle, (Y/N)’s hometown, only to discover her past was darker than they had ever imagined. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader 

Warnings: This one is dark. Angst, bloody crime details, Criminal Mind usual content, fluff at the end ‘cos I can’t help it. Also, cursing but that’s just how I roll. 

Word count: 2,7K 

Masterlist

- 

It was obvious there was something wrong with (Y/N). Spencer could see it clearly, though she kept telling him everything was ok. It was easy to read her after working together for five years and dating the last two.

Reid knew he shouldn’t profiler his girlfriend, but he couldn’t help it when he saw the painful expression on her face. She tried to smile when she noticed he was looking at her, but that just made it worse ‘cos now he was sure there was something awfully wrong with her. 

She wasn’t like that when they woke up. She had spent the night over in his apartment, and she looked happy. She made hotcakes for breakfast, and they laughed the whole way to Quantico, talking about the movie they had seen the night before. 

But everything changed the second they received the information of the serial killer they had to catch. 

-

When Garcia presented the case, Spencer noticed how his girlfriend’s face turned white. She didn’t even look at the pictures of the crime scenes. (Y/N) fixed her eyes on her notebook on the table and crossed her arms on her chest. She didn’t speak during the briefing, just bite her lips and the inside of her cheeks the whole time.

- “Today, my dear furry friends, you will be flying to (Y/N) ’s hometown, rainy Seattle, for a case that will give me nightmares for the rest week, so I refuse to look at the screen”

(Y/N) held her breath and stayed as still as possible on her chair. 

- “The unsub is targeting couples in their late thirties. He stabs them to death in their bed, places the bodies as if they were asleep, and forces the kids to lay between them. Then, he locks them in the house until they manage to escape”.

Hotch sighed and looked at the team. Family-related cases always were the hardest for him and J.J. Especially when there were kids involved. 

- “The police department asked for our help because they think it might be related to four unsolved murders that took place in Seattle back in the nineties”-

Garcia finished. Hotch stood up and announced, “wheels up in twenty”, and everybody left the room. Everybody but (Y/N), who couldn’t move. 

- “Hey… are you ok?”- Spencer stood in front of her chair and held her hands. She just nodded and tried her best to smile. 

- “I’m just tired, honey, that’s all. It’s been a long week”. 

- “You can tell me if there’s anything wrong, buttercup, you know that”- she tried to smile and stood up. Spencer cupped her face with both hands and kissed her lips sweetly. 

(Y/N) held her breath for a few seconds, making her best not to cry. When he looked at her, she cut him a small smile, trying to show him everything was ok. 

Of course, it was not. 

Neither Spencer nor anyone in the BAU knew (Y/N) ’s secret. She didn’t want to share it with anyone ‘cos it meant everybody would pity her, and she couldn’t handle that. She couldn’t deal with people looking at her like she was a victim. She hated it when it happened back in her hometown, and she knew she couldn’t handle it if their BAU family looked at her like that.

That case hurt her deeper than she could ever explain, and she wasn’t sure she could keep the secret that was killing her alive for much longer. 

-

During the trip, she barely looked at the files. Spencer sat next to her, trying to comfort her. He knew she wouldn’t tell him what was happening, but he wanted to be by her side. He wanted her to know he was there for her, no matter what. 

(Y/N) knew that, but of all people, he was the last one she wanted to share her secret with. She was too embarrassed and too scared he could run away. She was also too damaged, and she had, somehow, managed to cover her wounds for all those years. 

But now, everything was collapsing, and she knew it could only get worse from there. 

- “Morgan, you and Reid talk with the forensic. We need every detail on the killer’s M.O.”- Hotch said as soon as they landed in Seattle- “(Y/N), you and Prentiss talk with the family of the latest victims. JJ, Rossi, we will speak with the police chief and see the previous investigation files”. 

(Y/N)’ s heart stopped for a second. She held her folder fight and nodded, making her best not to show her whole body started shaking. 

Spencer could read it, (Y/N) was hiding something, and it wasn’t something good. He leaned in and kissed her temple and held her hand tight. 

- “Do you want me to go with you? I can ask Hotch…” 

- “No, honey”- she whispered, shaking her head- “I’m ok”

- “Sure”- she nodded and pecked his lips- “I’ll see you back at the police station, ok?”

-

Prentiss was doing all the talking. (Y/N) could barely breathe in that interview. A thirteen years old little girl sat on a couch, nearly crying, holding her grandmother’s hand tight, as if her life depended on it. 

-” I know this is hard, and you are doing great, Kristy. I need you to close your eyes and tell me, what do you remember of that night”. 

Without even notice, (Y/N) did the same. 

- “Mom and dad stayed up after I went to bed. I heard them talking in the kitchen when I went to the bathroom” 

- “What time was it?”- Prentiss whispered 

- “Eleven… eleven-thirty”

- “And do you remember anything odd? anything that didn’t look right?”- Kristy stayed in silence. You could tell she was doing her best to remember. 

- “The neighbor’s dog was barking“

- “Ok, good”- Prentiss praised- “You are doing great, anything else? A smell, a noise?” 

- “I heard something in the closet in the hall, like… like someone was chuckling, so I got scared and ran back to my room”- Kristy was agitated, and tears started falling down her cheeks. (Y/N) held her hands and looked at her, whispering. 

- “You had heard that chuckle before, hadn’t you?”- and the girl nodded. 

- “But your parents told you you were too old to believe in the boogie man, right?”- (Y/N) continued, fighting her own tears.

- “(Y/N)?”- Prentiss was confused

- “It’s not your fault-” (Y/N) whispered and wrapped her arms around the girl, who now started sobbing- “You have to understand it’s not your fault. He wanted you to be scared”. 

- “(Y/N), what are you talking about?”- Prentiss asked her but still didn’t get any answer. 

- “Kristy, this is important. Do you remember if a stranger had been in your house in the last week?”- but the girl just shook her head- “He may have said his car broke down, or he was lost” 

- “A man came last Wednesday”- the girl whispered, still crying- “He said he needed help with his car… dad borrowed him some tools and helped him change his tire”

(Y/N) nodded and looked at Prentiss. 

- “That’s the guy” 

- “How do you know?”- Emily was confused. Not only because tears kept falling from (Y/N) ’s eyes, but because of her deduction. 

- “Believe me, that’s the guy. I’m gonna call Hotch”. 

- “(Y/N)! Wait!”- Prentiss ran after her friend and followed her back to the SUV- “What the hell happened back there?”

- “What do you mean?”- the young agent tried to act as if nothing had happened. Which was impossible, but still, she gave it a shot. 

- “You knew something about this case! You knew the girl had heard the unsub before, how?”

(Y/N) stayed still and just looked at her friend, took a deep breath, and lied. 

- “We studied this case back in the academy. Some of the kids said they had heard a chuckling the days before the murder”

Prentiss frowned. She had read that case over and over again, and she knew that information wasn’t in any file. But it was apparent (Y/N) didn’t want to talk about it. 

-

Against all odds, (Y/N) managed to go through the day, keeping herself as calm as possible. After talking with Kristy, she and Prentiss reached the police station. Spencer was waiting for her with a hot cup of her favorite coffee. Just what she needed. He held her hand and kissed it as they walked to the rest of the team. 

- “How are you feeling, buttercup?”

- “I’m tired...”- she sighed and looked into his chocolate eyes. They were filled with love for her. The kind of love that made her feel no matter what, everything was going to be ok.  

- “When we are back home, I’ll run you a bubble bath. Would you like that?”

- “I would love that, honey” 

-

They delivered a profile, which confirmed it was the same killer as in the nineties. A white man. Now in his late fifties. His parents had committed suicide when he was thirteen. He was left alone with the corpses for three days until a neighbor contacted the police because of the smell. As he grew up, his trauma led him to kill couples around his parents’ age, with a single kid the same age as he was when he died. 

- “Hey baby girl, I need you to help me find this unsub”- Morgan called Garcia as the whole team gathered around the board. It was late, and they were all tired, but they didn’t want to give the unsub the chance to kill again. 

- “I need you to run me a list of all the prisoners in the area who were released a month ago, that’s when the crimes started”

- “You are gonna have to give me something else, chocolate thunder. Do you have any kind of idea how many people are released weekly from jail?”

- “Ten thousand”- Spencer answered and kept his eyes stuck at the board- “Garcia, he is around fifty, white, and had been in jail approximately thirteen or fourteen years”. 

(Y/N)’ s heart was beating so fast inside her chest she thought anyone could hear it. Her legs were shaking, her eyes were watering up. But she had to keep herself together. She had to, for the team. For herself. For this case. For the victims.

- “Still too many”- Garcia said 

- “Can you see if any of them had a red truck?”- (Y/N) asked, and the whole team turned to her, confused 

- “Why a red truck?”- Hotch asked her, confused 

- “It was a theory we analyzed at the academy”- she lied again. 

- “Bingo! Sam Paterson, 53 years old, was released five weeks ago. I’m sending you his last known address right now”. 

-

- “(Y/N), I just read all the files about this case, including the cases from ’98, and they never mentioned a red truck”- Spencer asked his girlfriend. They were in the SUV, and Morgan was driving. Reid turned to the backseat to look at her, but she kept her eyes in the window. 

- “I don’t know why it wasn’t there. Maybe they dismissed part of the evidence”

Reid was afraid to ask again, so he just nodded and turned to Morgan. 

- “How long until we get there?” 

- "Two minutes. I can’t wait to catch this bastard”. 

-

The unsub was hidden in a barn at the back of his property. He had all the trophies he kept from the crime scenes: a toy from each kid’s bedroom. 

They surrounded him quickly, but he kept pointing a gun against the team. He knew he was fucked, but he wasn’t going to surrender. 

- “You are done, Sam”- Morgan tried to talk to him, but the unsub just looked at the agents around him and laughed. 

- “I was sure you were going to be the one to get me”- he said and looked at (Y/N)- “You haven’t changed a thing”

- “Shut up!”- (Y/N) muttered and bit her lips, trying her best not to cry. She didn’t want to give him the pleasure of seeing her crumble. 

- (”Y/N) James, sorry, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), you use your mother’s last name now”

- “Shut up!”- the gent spit those words holding her gun tight. She could shoot him. She wanted to shoot him. But she wasn’t a monster like him. She had to keep telling herself that over and over again to keep her from pulling the trigger.

The whole team looked at her in shock. James. The James was the last couple the unsub killed in ’98. Their thirteen-year-old daughter was left with their bodies for a whole day locked in the house before she managed to escape.

- “(Y/N)?”- Spencer didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t believe it. 

- “I always knew you were special, (Y/N)”- Sam smiled- “You were the only one who heard me. Too bad mommy and daddy laughed at you when you told them someone was walking around the house at night”

- “You are sick”- it was a miracle that (Y/N) wasn’t crying. The anger that filled her body was too powerful, and it fueled her with revenge. 

- “Maybe I am sick, but I’m also the one who knows you better than anyone”- he made a pause and looked around at the rest of the team- “Oh! They didn’t know! Why didn’t you tell them? Want me to give them the short version of the fact?”

- “You don’t know anything about me!” 

- “That’s where you are wrong. I know a lot about you, (Y/N). I hunted you and your parents for weeks. Remember that little cat that used to play in your backyard? Garfield, that’s how you called him, right?”

- “Shut up!”- (Y/N) was having serious trouble stopping herself from pulling that trigger. She wanted to kill him and avenge her parents. They didn’t deserve to die just because a sick bastard decided to kill them. 

- “I always wanted to ask you, how did you feel when you laid there with them? After I killed your parents, how did you feel? ‘cos when I laid with mine, I just felt such peace… Did you feel peace too? (Y/N)? did you?” 

A single gunshot was the end of Sam. Spencer put his gun down after killing him and looked at his girlfriend. She was shaking. He didn’t say a word. He ran to her and wrapped his arms around her tight, just to hear her burst into tears. Tears she had been holding for years. 

- “I’m here, I’m here with you”- he whispered as he kept kissing her cheeks- “You are safe, I’ve got you, (Y/N)”

- “He… he…”- she tried to speak, but she couldn’t. Spencer held her closer, tighter, and kissed any part of her he could. Her shoulder, her head, her cheek, her hair, her temple. 

- “He’s dead, (Y/N). He is never going to hurt you again”

(Y/N) couldn’t move. She just kneeled on the floor, a few feet away from the corpse of the man that had killed her parents. Spencer held her in his arms and carried her outside. 

- “You are safe”- Reid kept repeating, and she just nodded as he sat her in the back of an ambulance

- “I’m never going to let anyone hurt you, (Y/N). Did you know that?”- Reid ran his thumbs across her cheeks, wiping off the tears that kept falling from her eyes. 

- “I will protect you, forever”

(Y/N) looked at him and quivered her chin again. She knew he meant it, and a small part of her felt relieved he knew everything now. Even the dark part she had managed to hide for years from everybody.

- “I love you so much (Y/N), and I am so proud of you. You overcame a situation that most people would never get over, and you became an amazing woman. The amazing woman I love” 

- “Thank you”- (Y/N) whispered and sobbed- “I just didn’t want to tell anyone so they wouldn’t pity me”- she said and hugged Spencer tight again, hiding her face on his chest

- “No! listen to me. I am proud of you, that’s how I feel about you, ok?”- he looked at her and kissed her cheeks sweetly- “I love you (Y/N)”

- “I love you too, Spencer. Thank you for being here”

- “Always”

[neovisioned]

♡ꜜ profane﹫jaehyun jung

profane - ashe vernon

pairing : jaehyun x reader (f)

genre : smut with little plot, fallen angel!jaehyun, best friends to lovers. 

warnings : actual filth, dry humping, passionate eating out, penetration (unprotected, be safe), body worship, slight begging and corruption, overstimulation, jaehyun’s wings are sensitive, creampie. 

word count : 3k exactly.

synopsis : fallen angel Jaehyun confesses to the one who saved him the night he fell from heaven five years ago, he shows you exactly how much he meant his words when he called you holy or : “ God, if you’re out there, if you’re listening, he fucks like a seraphim,”

“The first time he calls you holy, you laugh it back so hard your sides hurt.”

Jaehyun never even tried to hide his awe for your beauty, since the day of his fall. From the night you found him in the middle of the street, right after a rainy summer day, he never did. You were in your last year of high school, a teenager finding a bloodied, half clothed man on the hard concrete. You thought you were hallucinating, victim of one big, elaborated prank. You remember observing him for minutes, until he turned his scared face towards the noise of your boots cracking a dead branch. Oh, his face. Even in pain, even crying from the damnation he just faced, he looked ethereal. Correction, he was ethereal. A fallen angel, lost in this cruel, cruel world. Bloodied wings, sculpted body draped with a white sheet, trembling chestnut eyes. Big, white wings wrapped around himself in an attempt to protect his remaining dignity. Your heart dropped when he planted his eyes in yours. Jaehyun wondered if you were an angel of death here to finish the job, he never knew they were this pretty. Jaehyun remembers asking himself if he felt right to another kind of heaven he didn’t know about when you walked carefully towards him, pale moonlight enlightening your worried features. The first human face he’d see and yet, he'd bet you were crafted in his late home.

“You’re divine.”, was the first thing the fallen angel had told you. Ah, how he managed to get you even more intrigued with three words. You recall him not backing away from you when you kneeled in front of the man, offering a hand. He looked the same age, a deer caught in the bright lights of a truck. You’d hate yourself for leaving him here.

The red tint on his soft feathers stay imprinted in your mind, even after five years.

You never thought you’d be one to take an angel under your wing. But here you were, helping the fallen learn about life on the blue planet, one he never thought he’d live on himself. After all, the brunette never even formed the idea before, being dropped out of heaven was never on option for God’s old favorite. Years, and Jaehyun never stopped being dazed by your features. You even wondered where he’d get his compliments, always sounding like an old poet gushing over his best muse. Lovely, charming, delightful, ravishing, gorgeous, heavenly, stunning, artistic, magnificent. The list goes on. You quickly wondered if he wasn’t going too far, if he wasn’t too attached after you saved him, mind twisted by an illusion he created for himself. He saw what you couldn’t see in you. Words you never heard any man call another woman before, they all have the same effect on you. The feeling of heat pooling to your cheeks gets too familiar when you’re with Jaehyun. It’s to a point where his name only manages to burn your skin. However, the day the now almost normal man calls you “holy”, you don’t know how to react. His head rests on your stomach, strong arms wrapped around your body. You remember how frail they looked the night you met him. No matter the time flying by, the people he met, the number throwing themselves at him, Jaehyun never stopped looking at you like you held stars in your irises. Puppy dog eyes for what you then think is just equal, a puppy love.   “You’re holy.”, he had breathed against your skin, a small smile blooming on his face at your reaction. The weight of his head on you makes it heard to laugh and hard to breath properly, your sides hurt as you giggle in an attempt to brush it off. Thankfully, Jaehyun’s used to your off reactions to his words. He might even like it a bit too much. Even, it takes years for you to understand that Jaehyun’s isn’t just victim of a dumb infatuation. He means every word he says, he knows more than anyone else the meaning behind them all. It’s quite ironic. You think Jaehyun’s the one who needs to open his eyes but, when you do, you understand something bigger. Jaehyun isn’t as innocent as you thought he was. The ability to hide his wings and your presence guiding him had him walking on his Earth like any other human being, slowly becoming like every other young man of his age.

“The second time, you moan gospel around his fingers between your teeth. He has always surprised you into surprising yourself.”

The second time he calls you “holy”, your reaction is much, much different from any other. The slight salty taste of his fingertips lingers on your tongue, pink muscle lazily lapping against his skin. The fallen angel has two digits resting there, thumb lovingly stroking the skin of your check. Coating them with saliva, the muscle drags between ever so slowly. Hungry eyes catch every one of your reactions, drinking in the smallest of sighs and broken bat of the eyelashes for memories to cherish. It seems every important turn in your relationship with the fallen angel happens in summer, he even told you about how it was his favorite out of the four seasons. An anniversary of your meeting with the brunette turns confession of shared feelings between an improvised meal. He grew. He grew so much all thanks to you and yet, there he is. Body towering over you, using his power against you, the dynamic shifted long ago. His hips fits perfectly between your thighs, the blue jeans he’s wearing aren’t doing anything to hide his hardening member, longing to be touched. You wonder where he learned all of this, when he learned all of this. His hips roll against your clothed core in the most heavily way, it’s slow and hard, intentions clear. “You’re holy, doll.”, Jaehyun breathes again, watching your cheek heat up, your eyes roll back. You never heard this voice before, it dips lower, stained by years of want. “Crafted by the highest.” You moan around his fingers, teeth grazing over the tender skin. Jaehyun was never afraid to push you out of your comfort zone, there he was doing it again. You never thought you’d let your beloved angel sin with your help.

“Because he’s an angel hiding his halo behind his back and nothing has ever felt so filthy as plucking the wings from his shoulders - undressing his softness one feather at a time.”

Oh, how well he hides his halo. There’s no light in his eyes, no light in his voice when he asks you to undress. You wonder if he still has some powers with how easily you bend to his order, underwear adoring your skin. His jeans follow close behind. He got bigger with years, stronger, confident. One thing he doesn’t get rid of, his wings. He could, he could hide them like he does every day now, but he know how much they affect you. You’ve told him many times, never ran more than a light and careful hands on the majestic wings. Pure, white feathers create the perfect cocoon between your tangled bodies like he wants you to himself and him only. You don’t think he ever lost one single feather, never losing their pristine with time.

His hips never stop rolling against yours, now fully hard cock rubbing against your damp underwear. His grey boxers aren’t doing anything to hide his member anymore, one that makes your mouth water, eyes blow in need. One hand travels from his arm to the soft feather of his wing, bold fingers softly gazing over the small spaces between his plumes.

The surprised moan that tumbles from his lips takes your breath away, such a simple gesture that makes him keen under your touch. “Fuck.”, how can a curse sound so pure ? His finger leave your mouth to grip the pillow right next to your head. “Do that again.”

“God, if you’re out there, if you’re listening, he fucks like a seraphim, and there’s no part of scripture that ever prepared you for his hands. Hand that map a communion in the cradle of your hips.”

“Shit, Jaehyun.” Nothing would have prepared you for the way his hips start moving to a faster pace. He has you moaning a bouquet of curses against his lips, hips bucking up against his. You know Jaehyun learns quickly, you see it when you tell him just how you like it and he obliges happily, hips rolling harder, and harder. The dark spot on his boxers’ a dead giveaway of your arousal building up, and up. His hands start wondering up your body, shamelessly sneaking under your bra. He maps your curves, learns by heart about the holy temple of your envelope. “Feels good ?” Another hand tightly grips your hip, fingers digging at your flesh, sure to leave small bruises there. He pushes your pelvis down against his mattress, until you aren’t able to create friction from your own. The fallen angel brings you to the border in minutes, he builds your orgasm up until you’re breathing against his bruised lips. He makes you jump with him and makes sure he has you all along, he holds you close when you ruin your underwear. Your orgasm blinds you for milliseconds, you probably moan too loudly for your neighbors but, right here and right now, it’s him. Jaehyun might come the very moment his name rolls out of your tongue, the prettiest prayer he ever had the chance to hear and, it was for him, him only.

“Hands that kiss hymns up your sides. He confesses how long he’s looked for a place to worship and, oh,”

“’ve been waiting for so long.”, the brunette confesses against the skin of your stomach. He places soft kisses there, like he wants you to see how much he worships your body. “Thought you’d never let me have a taste.”. There is the slightest bit of amusement in his voice when he kisses along the line of your ruined panties, a single digit teasingly running up and down your lips. He makes you shiver, sigh his name out and say his name in vain. You’d almost beg him to do it already, taste you already.

“Jaehyun, I-.”, you’d almost beg him, and oh.

Pink tongue boldly dips in your core, through the wet fabric. He hums at the slight taste of your arousal, like he cannot believe he’s finally there. His red lips form an -o where he knows your bud of never is, lightly sucking there. Where the fuck did he learn all of this. Oh, the sweet angel will be the death of you if you aren’t his.

“you put him on his knees. When he sinks to the floor and moans like he can’t help himself, you wonder if the other angels feel so sweet.”

Long gone are the years of blindness, years of pushing feelings away out of fear. A hand rests on his shoulder and you push him to his knees, he obliges easily under your touch. Knees to the floor, his knees hit the cold wood of his bedroom. Digits finally wrap around the fabric of your panties and finally. Finally, you reveal yourself to the fallen angel. Transparent fluid stick to your lips and the ruined piece of clothing, Jaehyun moans to himself like he’s been touched by grace.

Glittering eyes look up to you for reassurance and, when he has it, he doesn’t hesitate. Pushing your thighs apart, his eyes stay on your core like the finest of paintings, placing your legs on his strong shoulders. He waited and wanted too long to make the teasing last longer and, much like he did through the piece of fabric, his pink tongue drags up your slit. He collects every drop your give him in the dip of his muscle, he hums at the taste and goes for more. The tip digs between your lips and laps like he’s drinking the rarest of wines, like he’s drinking from the grail itself.

“Taste so fucking good.”, he hums to himself, lips shining with your own arousal. “Can’t get enough.”

You wonder if all angels are so good with their tongues, or maybe it’s the added effect Jaehyun has on you. He brings you to the clouds in what you feel like is seconds.

“He says his prayers between your thighs and you dig your heels into the base of his spine until he blushes the color of your filthy tongue. You will ruin him and he will thank you; he will say please.”

The words he mumbles against your core are foreign to you, your dazed, blurred mind doesn’t quite catch the meaning behind his sounds. However, his deep voice vibrates against your lips. It’s so much, too much. You’re almost too sensitive already from the first orgasm he got out of you. Your body reacts by itself when he lets his muscle explore between your lips a little more, a sigh tumbling from your lips. Your thighs close around his head until your heels dig between his wings, it makes the man moan and break away from your core. Your hand can only anchor itself between his brown locks, slightly tugging at his hair.

He’s breathless, a deep pink dust on his cheeks and chest alongside a thin sheet of sweat. Jaehyun looks so innocent and yet, so filthy, corrupted. When his lips methodically wraps around your button of nerves, you know you’re done for. “Jaehyun, Jae-. ‘m so close, gonna come.”, you warn, words turning incoherent at some point. Ah, Jaehyun loves the way your voice breaks for him, direct result of his actions. It fills his chest with pride and makes his wings bat the slightest bit around him.

“Please.”, he begs, and you have to look down at him to register the word. “Please Y/N, come on my tongue.”, he says again, fingers wrapping around your thighs. How can you say no to such plea ? Jaehyun might be the happiest fallen angel when he feels your thighs shaking around him, tightening around his head as you come for the second time that night. You might black out, the ringing in your ears doesn’t stop you from hearing the brunette’s greedy tongue lapping at your core, small kisses on your thighs. “Thank you.”

“No damnation ever looked as cozy as this, but you fit over his hips like they were made for you. You fit, you fit, you fit. On top of him, you are an ancient god that only he remembers and he offers up his skin. And you take it. Who knew sacrifice was so profane ?”

Fucked out, yet there’s no way you’re going to let Jaehyun like this. Your legs threaten to give out under your body when you sit on the fallen angel’s lap. Your abused core tightens around the head of his length, the slight pain of the stretch adds to the stained moan you let out against Jaehyun’s neck. He fits and he’s no one moaning about how you were made for him. Long gone are the pleas to make you come when he groans and growls about your tight cunt.

You take him, you take him entirely with a whine and fully sit on his thighs. You don’t think you ever felt so full in your entire life, you don’t think you ever felt this way before. His wings wrap around your bodies again, it seems like an old habit. He creates a world for you to rule in, he lets you take control and set the pace.

His moans are for your ears only when you finally start moving up, and down. Up, and down. Jaehyun’s arms wrap tightly around your waist, bringing your body impossibly close to his. His chest crashes against your own, lips bruising yours for the nth time that night. You fit, he won’t let you go. He fits, you grip around him. Jaehyun might just think you look like a goddess at this very moment, skin glowing under the light, wrapped around him, wrapped in him. He wonders if you aren’t just that, a goddess erased from the books, a goddess too powerful and threatening. Jaehyun might just think you’re Lilith. His head rolls back against the headboard of his bed, he unknowingly presents the skin of his pale neck and you take it. You take him, you mark him as yours. Red and purple petals bloom on his chest, marks he'd proudly parade.

“And once you’ve taught him how to hold your throat in one hand and your heart in the other, you will have forgotten every other word, except his name.”

The way his pupils grow wider the moment you bring his hand to your throat is almost comical. You teach him how to use his fingers and press on your neck, cut your breathing just the right way. Just enough to have you desperately clenching around his cock.

“I love you.”, you finally confess to him that night, words he thought he’d never hear at some point. There, the fallen angel has you in the palm of his hand, heartbeat pumping against his fingertips. There, Jaehyun gets his revenge on heaven. When he starts fucking up, sending your body crashing against his own, limp, he might fuck you even harder then. There, in the dead of the night, years after meeting him on the dot, his name is the only thing tumbling from his lips. Oh, what a pleasure to bring a goddess to this state, fucked out and babbling, shamelessly letting herself being used and filled. The fallen angel never thought he’d feed off someone’s tears but, when he hears you cry out for the third time that night, tear rolling down his neck, he comes.

© NEOVISIONED l NO REPOSTING OR TRANSLATIONS ALLOWED.

[chaoticminhos]

coughing up the butterflies that died in my stomach when you broke my heart

--”It was draining, he thought, pretending to love you.”

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: mafia au, angst, fluff, smut

warnings: death, guns, chan’s kind of an asshole

word count: 9.7k

a/n: this is the longest shit i’ve written to date n i’m kinda super really proud of it, also sorry for the total fall out boy move i pulled with the title hhh i just like it a lots

you let out a content sigh as your boyfriend trailed his lips along your neck, biting down lightly and sucking on a sweet spot he knew by heart by now. he pulled away and admired his work before capturing your lips with his, pressing your hips down against his growing bulge and making an attempt to deepen the kiss. you pulled away from him with a giggle.

“hyunjin, i really have to go. i promised my dad i’d be up early to help him with some work stuff tomorrow.”

he pouted, “what do you even have to do? why can’t he do it himself?”

you laughed at your boyfriends clingy behavior, “i’m supposed to talk to some girls he’s considering hiring. says i’m less threatening than a tall, scary-looking old man.”

“what’s he hiring for?”

you sighed, he always did this. whenever the topic of your fathers business came up, he could never let it go.

“hyunjin.”

“what?” he tossed a hand in the air, keeping the other delicately on your waist, “is it so bad that i’m curious what my girlfriend does for a living?”

you sighed as he continued.

“i mean, we’ve been together for months and i still know basically nothing about your family business,” he let out a small laugh, “i’m starting to think it’s something illegal.”

you scoffed, smiling down at your boyfriend.

“baby, it’s not illegal, it’s just... private.”

“sounds pretty sketchy to me.”

you brought your lips to his again, smiling against them as you lifted yourself off of his lap with a giggle. he reached out to you with a pout on his face as you distanced yourself from him.

“baby, no, stay a little longer.”

you laughed, tossing your phone into your bag with the rest of your things and putting on your shoes.

“i would if i could, jinnie.”

the pout remained on his lips until you made your way back to him and gave him a last kiss before leaving for the night.

“i love you.”

“love you too.” he smiled up at you from his position on the couch. 

the smile left his features the second the door shut behind you, sinking deeper into his couch with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, and pulling out his phone to dial his bosses number to give his daily update.

it was draining, he thought, pretending to love you.

the phone rang a couple times before it was picked up, his bosses voice on the other end.

“anything new?”

“no, chan.” he ran a hand across his face, “same as the last five months. she still won’t tell me anything.” he sat up, “and she’s never going to. can’t we just accept that this mission failed and find another way to compromise the park mafia?”

“she’ll crack or slip up eventually, hyunjin. she loves you.”

hyunjin let out an exaggerated sigh before ending the call, “who doesn’t?”

he gathered his own things and stepped outside of the apartment, locking the door behind him. although his gang owned the place and he could stay there if he wanted to, he much rather preferred the mansion with the 8 other boys. they’d only bought this small apartment for the sake of his current mission, you’d obviously know something was up if he took you to a huge mansion. 

no, to you, he lived in a small, mediocre apartment that had a creaky floor and annoying neighbors. to you, he worked as a teachers assistant for the college the both of you were attending and that’s how he got his money. 

it was partially true, he did attend the same university as you. you were a freshman and he was in his sophomore year. he didn’t work as a teachers assistant, though. chan provided all the money he needed to keep afloat so he had no reason to work a regular job. to be fair, dating you was kind of like his job. 

he was majoring in business, just like you were. that’s how he made himself present in your life, sharing so many classes with you.

a few weeks into the first semester of your freshman year you ran into someone while on your way to class, bumping right into the chest of one of the most attractive people you’ve ever seen. you later learned his name to be hwang hyunjin.

“oh, i’m sorry!” you squeaked before looking up to see who you’d accidentally crashed into. 

“it’s okay, that was totally my fault.” he reached his hand out to you with a big smile, “i’m hyunjin.”

you hesitantly took his hand, face flushing as your skin came into contact with his, “y/n.”

“where are you headed, y/n?”

“i have a business lecture soon.” 

“really? so do i! let’s walk together.”

you awkwardly agreed. there wasn’t any way for you to get out of it, not that you really wanted to. despite your shy behavior at first, he kept a good conversation going as he walked you to class. you told him that you were majoring in business to help out with your family business and he told you that the only thing that stressed him out more than classes was his dog.

he offered a small wave when you two split as you entered the classroom.

you sat in your usual spot and glanced to see where he was seated. how had you never noticed him before? sure, the class was huge and there were a bunch of people but you were sure you would have noticed someone like him before. now that you had noticed him, though, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.

you recognized some of the boys he sat with. jeongin was a freshman just like you, so you had met him during the freshman introductory meetings and all the ‘student bonding’ activities the school made freshman go to. you knew jisung as well, he was in your biology class. you’d even been paired with him for a project at the way start of the year. he was a good partner, even though he complained the whole time about being one of the only sophomores in a class full of freshman. it was okay though, because he stated that you were an okay freshman.

as you continued to scan his friends for anyone you knew, you noticed him looking in your direction as well. his eyes caught yours and you turned your head quickly, face flushing red as you turned to the front. 

you spent the whole class thing of and sneaking glances at the pretty boy you’d bumped into earlier that day.

hyunjin had asked for your phone number that day after class was over, stating with a red face that he was going to ask you before but he got too scared. from then on, the two of you texted constantly and it wasn’t long before he asked you on a date. you obviously said yes. 

you quickly learned that he was so much more than a just pretty face. he told you more about his dog and how much he loved animals, his eyes lighting up whenever you asked how kkami was doing. he talked so fast when he was speaking of something he really cared about, tripping over his words and apologizing every other sentence for it. he’d gotten over that by now, he stopped apologizing when you told him you thought it was cute. 

he told you about his friends and even introduced you to them. the first time you met them was at his small apartment and you were amazed that you and all 9 of the boys could fit in there. jisung recognized you from class and even remembered your name, which surprised you. you didn’t think of yourself as very memorable. he said someone as pretty as you was very memorable. hyunjin said jisung wasn’t allowed to talk anymore if all he was going to do was flirt with you and you laughed because as much as you enjoyed his friends already, no one could take you away from him.

about a month into the relationship, you had become close with all of the boys. you spent most of your time with hyunjin, but you no longer felt awkward with the other boys around and you weren’t embarrassed by their teasing about you and hyunjin anymore. you learned that most of them were also focusing on business. the only ones who weren’t were jeongin and seungmin, who were in computer programming,

you thought it was odd at first that so many of them were in business. your father always told you to be careful around groups of friends that all majored in business, but many of them had family businesses to take over or help with, just like you. you figured their family ran different sorts of businesses than yours did, but a business is a business no matter how big or legal.

despite your dad not trusting your business major boyfriend or his friends, you came to trust them all very quickly. especially hyunjin.

even after just a month and a half of dating, you knew you loved him. you called him the night you realized it and told him. you figured there was no point in waiting, you had these feelings and you weren’t sorry for it. you could practically hear his smile through the phone as he told you he loved you too. 

when you told your dad you loved him, he told you to break up with him. 

“i don’t trust them,” he said, “they’re probably a gang.”

“they’re not a gang, dad. not every kid majoring in business is doing it to help their father run an illegal business like i am.”

illegal. 

sometimes the word illegal made your stomach feel weird. sure, you knew your dads business wasn’t clean, but it wasn’t anything terrible either. it’s not like you assisted with sex trafficking girls or blowing up buildings with bombs. your dad assured you that nothing you assisted with was ever to hurt anyone or cause anyone danger. you just laundered money. and it wasn’t like you were the ones selling the drugs, you just cleaned the money made from others selling the drugs. it’s different. and you believed him. after all, your dad was a good man. he’d gotten involved with some sketchy men and now your family was roped into illegal activities, but he wouldn’t hurt anyone and he was just doing what was best for your family and following orders from his boss. he owned his company, but he still worked for someone else. so even if there was anything strongly against your morals, it wouldn’t be like you had a choice. 

he explained it to you as a partnership of sorts. they got the money, you weren’t 100% sure how, but selling drugs or theft of various kinds was most likely, and all your family did was clean up the money. 

but even then, you knew what you did was very, very illegal. just because you were following orders doesn’t mean you couldn’t get charged. you had to keep everything you did quiet and you couldn’t talk to anyone but your own family about it. your dad made it clear what could happen if anything about it got out. lots and lots of legal action, or, if you somehow managed to evade the police, being killed by his superiors for messing up.

so to everyone other than your mom and dad, you were just a rich family who liked to invest in places and own buildings. it made a lot of money and it gave you means to launder the money through. you would figure out ways to slip the dirty money into transactions and make it legitimate and able to use.

it was hard keeping it from hyunjin, you didn’t like lying to him. okay well, technically you didn’t have to lie too much, but you had to keep a lot of the truth away from him. sometimes you wished you could talk to him about things, this type of work gets pretty stressful and there’s some stuff you don’t really want to talk to your parents about. plus, whenever you voiced your anxiety revolving around the business and being involved in it you got the same lecture about it being nothing to worry about so long as you keep your mouth shut about it all and don’t mess up.

you couldn’t talk about it much, but hyunjin asked about your work a lot. you knew it was just because it’s kind of weird when your significant other doesn’t really talk about their job. he understood that it was private though. you told him you handled a lot of the financials for things and that stuff was best kept to just employees. again, it wasn’t really a lie! you did handle a lot of money and financials. maybe you should have taken more than the base level economics classes in high school. 

you thought nothing of his curiosity, you’d be curious if he didn’t talk much about his job, either. he made a lot of jokes about you being a secret spy and things like that which made you laugh. he made jokes about you being involved with illegal things, too, but you knew he was joking. he didn’t know, there would be no way for him to know, so you always blew it off and joked back.

but he did know. him and the rest of the boys, they knew as much as there was to know about your family business. they knew who your father was and they knew what type of business he ran. in fact, they knew more about the type of industry your father ran than you did yourself. you were under the impression that the family business consisted of cleaning dirty money, but that was just the start of what your father ran.

he was the head of one of the most dangerous korean mafias, the largest one known for sex trafficking in the country. stray kids focused their attention on bringing down people like your father. sure, they had to pull some legal strings of their own to accomplish their goals, but it was for the benefit of others in the long run. plus, they didn’t hurt innocents. not any more than they had to, at least. 

you, however, were not innocent. most of the boys, hyunjin included, had given up on the idea of you knowing much about your fathers business. they thought you genuinely didn’t know anything bad was happening, but chan was convinced it was an act. no one could be as involved in a business as you were and not know specifics about it. no, you knew what your father ran, he was sure of it.

hyunjin turned the doorknob to the mansion and stepped inside, locking it behind him. he was probably the last home, and if he wasn’t, everyone had a key. 

he carried his things to his room before heading back down the stairs and into the living room where all 8 of his friends were sitting and chatting.

he plopped himself down in an empty spot beside felix on the couch, immediately addressing chan.

“it’s a waste of my time, dude. she doesn’t know anything.”

hyunjin watched as chans jaw clenched. he did not want to be having this argument again.

“she does, hyunjin.”

“i don’t think she does, hyung. and even if she did, it’s obvious we aren’t getting anything out of her.” jisung spoke up.

“she’ll slip up, jisung.”

it was hyunjins turn to speak again, “it’s been over five months and she hasn’t shown any sign of knowing anything about what her father does. i think she really thinks it’s just a normal business.”

“if she thought it was a normal business why would she be so secretive about it?” chan challenged.

hyunjin shrugged, “lots of completely legal things need to be kept secret.”

“you just want to be able to break up with her so you can whore around campus again.” felix teased, causing hyunjin to send a glare in his direction.

“she thinks she’s my girlfriend felix, i have no problem getting my dick wet.”

“even with your dick in her you can’t get any more information out of her in nearly six months than jisung did during a two week bio project.” 

“why are you complaining, jinnie? i’d be all over her if i didn’t know who her father was.” minho chimed in, also earning a glare from hyunjin.

“shut the fuck up.”

“you’re acting like a jealous boyfriend.”

chan cleared his throat to interrupt the bickering, turning to address hyunjin again.

“give it until the six month mark. if she still hadn’t cracked or slipped by then, we’ll find another way.”

hyunjin scoffed, “what, send another one of us on a useless goose chase to try to get information out of her she doesn’t even have?”

“hyunjin, i get that you’re frustrated and six months is a long time to pretend you love someone, but-“ 

he didn’t quite catch the rest of what his leader said, his mind pausing for a moment at those words.

“pretend to love someone.”

he wasn’t given time to analyze why those words made something inside of him churn before chan was snapping his fingers in front of his face to gain his attention back.

“are you good, jinnie?”

“yeah,” he sighed, brushing off his brief moment of discomfort, “just exhausted.”

“it’s hard work, man. you’re a good actor. she really thinks you’re head over heels for her.”

a laugh fell from his lips, “where’s my fucking emmy?”

three weeks.

 just three more weeks and then he could end things with you. three more weeks until he could stop going to that shitty apartment every day after his classes and instead just head straight home to the mansion. god, it’s been forever since he was able to go home before sundown. he always had to stay at the apartment until late at night on the chance that you’d want to see him or come over.

three weeks he reminded himself as he got up to address the knocking at the apartment door. he greeted you with a smile and wide arms.

“hey, baby.”

you snuggled into his chest, “i missed you.”

“you literally saw me last night, you crybaby.”

you pouted up at him, “it’s been almost 24 hours! that’s way too long!”

he laughed before placing a kiss to your nose, lightly holding your arm and leading you to his living room. 

“i already picked a movie, but you can choose a different one if you want.”

you glanced at the screen and pretended to think for a moment, he knew you could never say no to this movie, it was one of your favorite.

“i guess this one will do.”

he chuckled as he made himself one with the couch, opening his arms to welcome you into them while the movie started. he pulled a blanket up over the two of you and secured his arms around you, making sure you were comfortable before focusing his attention on the movie.

about halfway through the film, your witty comments and replies to your boyfriend stopped and were replaced with tiny snores. feeling tired himself, he shut the movie off and reached for his phone to let chan know he would be staying at the apartment tonight. he couldn’t leave you here alone, a real boyfriend wouldn’t do that. he carefully shifted your bodies so you were both laying down and you started to stir, a small groan of annoyance passing your lips.

“shh, baby, go back to sleep.”

you complied, immediately falling back into slumber. as he secured his arms around you once again and you buried your face in his chest in your sleep, he couldn’t help but to smile. 

you looked so cute when you were asleep. how did you manage it? you weren’t even doing anything, but you made a funny feeling pool in his stomach. without much thought, hyunjin placed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“goodnight, baby.”

two weeks.

 well, technically it was a week and 6 days. that’s how much longer he had to keep the ruse up. but that countdown was far from his mind.

he was in your apartment this time, and the second you opened the door for him, he had it slammed shut with your back pressed against it. you let out a surprised noise as his lips crashed to yours, but you made no effort to stop it. it was messy, full of teeth, but you couldn’t get enough of it.

you were finally able to speak when he pulled away and started trailing kisses down your neck.

“hyunjin, what’s gotten into you?”

“just,” he spoke between kisses, “had a long day.”

he had multiple tests and he was sure he bombed most, if not all, of them. he was angry and frustrated and he needed to calm down. the first thing that came to his mind whenever he needed to destress was the same as always— you.

you let him pick you up and you wrapped your legs around his body as he carried you to your bedroom, lips never leaving your own. he’d been here so many times that he knew where he was going without having to look.

he laid you with your back to the mattress and wasted no time ridding the both of you of clothes. 

he brought his lips to your nipple, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud before taking it into his mouth and sucking. you moaned at the feeling, he knew just what you liked and he delivered every single time he took you to bed.

you whined when he removed himself from your breast, the cold air hitting your wet nipple. he traced sloppy, wet kisses down your stomach and across your thighs, stopping before he could reach where you wanted him most.

you would have whined, but you were cut off by his finger suddenly entering you and his lips attaching to your core. he pumped his finger in and out of you slowly before adding another, and then another until you were moaning out that you were close. he pulled away, earning an annoyed huff from your mouth. you’d expected it though, he loved to tease you.

it wasn’t long before he was bottoming out and pounding into you so hard that you almost felt sorry for your neighbors for having to hear the bed squeak like it was.

“baby,” you panted out, “i’m close.”

he took that as his sign to bring his thumb to your core, paying attention to your sensitive bundle of nerves. he could tell by the way that you clenched around him and moaned his name that you were coming undone. 

he snapped his eyes to your face, eyes screwed shut and bottom lip pulled between your teeth. god, you looked absolutely gorgeous like this. the sight of you in such deep pleasure threw him over the edge, giving a few last thrusts before pulling out of you and stroking himself through his orgasm as he spilled onto your stomach. he rode out his high before leaning down and placing a soft kiss to your lips. he took up, admiring the way you looked, all fucked out with his seed covering your stomach. there it was, that feeling in his stomach again, almost like lightning bugs were coming alive inside of his tummy.

he grabbed a washcloth and cleaned himself off before wiping you clean as well and then helping you to the bathroom. he pulled on a pair of boxers and went to get you a glass of something to drink and a snack. 

you were already back on the bed when he returned and he frowned.

“baby, i could have helped you back.”

you laughed, “it’s okay, my legs aren’t too sore.”

he raised an eyebrow teasingly, “oh, is that so? do i need to work harder next time?”

you laughed again, taking a hold of his arm and pulling him down to lay beside you. he kissed you lightly, reaching to the floor to hand you the t-shirt he had been wearing before for you to put on. you slipped it over your shoulders, loving that it smelled like him.

he smiled, you always looked so cute and small in his clothes.

he made sure you drank some water and ate a little before allowing you to bury your face in his chest and fall asleep. he sent a message to chan yet again that he wouldn’t be coming home that night. in fact, he’d barely slept at the mansion in the past week, spending most of his nights either here or at his ‘apartment’ with you. 

one week.

one more week was supposed to be how much time left hyunjin had with you, but that all came crashing and burning as you stared blankly at his lit up phone screen. he stepped out of his bathroom with a towel around his waist and was met with your confused and hurt eyes.

“hyunjin.” you started, “what the fuck is this?”

you frowned, coming closer to see what you were talking about. there, on the screen of his phone, was a text message from chan.

“she’s not going to break within the next week. bring her to the mansion, i have a plan.”

his eyes widened and he snatched the phone from your hands, quickly dialing chans number and holding the phone to his ear as he used his other arm to try to secure you from running out. he quickly gave up, putting the phone on speaker and tossing it aside and using his full strength to pin you down.

“hello?” chans voice rang from the phone. no response.

“hyunjin, what’s going on?”

raising his voice above your cries, hyunjin spoke.

“chan,  get to the apartment now! she knows.”

it didn’t take long for chan and the rest of the boys to arrive, the mansion wasn’t that far away and it’s not like they were obeying any speeding laws.

it was surprisingly easy for hyunjin to keep you contained while they were on their way. after a few minutes, you stopped struggling against him. there was a look in your eyes that made him feel like throwing up and he almost wished you would keep fighting against him so he wouldn’t have to see it. 

you didn’t struggle as they lead you to a car and shoved you in the backseat, either. you knew you were no match for 9 guys. plus, what were they going to do, torture you? nothing could hurt you more than the aching in the pit of your stomach at that moment. hyunjin didn’t love you. 

they didn’t bother to cover your eyes on the car ride or to shield you from seeing their home. great. that meant it didn’t matter what you saw. they were probably going to kill you. you choked down a sob as the idea of hyunjin holding a gun to your head. 

they brought you into a room with a cement floor and cement walls and you scoffed lightly, they must do this often, you thought, to have a whole room for it. there was even a big, deep brown stain covering a part of the floor, showing that they’d brought people to and disposed of people in that very room before.

you didn’t fight as they brought your hands to a set of chained cuffs that were connected to the wall. there was about four feel of chain, giving you a small area to move around. you tugged lightly as they secured the cuffs around your wrists, there was no getting out of them. not that it mattered.

even if you did manage to escape that room somehow, it was no use. you didn’t know the layout of the building. sure, you knew that they’d brought you down a flight of stairs and you’d made a right turn somewhere or another, but you hadn’t been paying attention.

you only moved to acknowledge them when they all crowded into the small room, watching you like they expected something from you. you felt tears roll down your face as you observed the people you called your friends and the boy you were in love with mutter amongst themselves about what to say first.

“what am i doing here?”

chan was the one to respond and you caught on pretty quick that he was the leader of whatever they had.

“you tell me, y/n.”

you leaned your back against the hard wall and slid down until you were in a sitting position, pulling your knees to your chest.

“is this about my dad?” you began and chan raised his eyebrows as if to say i told you so to the others, “did we cut you short? i’m sorry, we had a rough month last month and-“

changbin cut you off, “cut us short?”

you nodded, “not clean enough? i swear we’ll make it back, pay you double what we missed-“

“what are you talking about?”

you frowned, “isn’t that what this is about? we- we launder for you, right?”

chan crouched down so he was eye level with you, “we don’t give a shit about money laundering, y/n. we’re concerned with the human trafficking and selling young girls and boys like they’re cattle.”

your eyes went wide, “we don’t-“

hyunjin scoffed, “y/n, why do you really think your dad puts out ads for young interns so often? where do they all go?”

you looked at him. his tone was so, so cold, but you swore you saw something akin to pain in his dark eyes.

“he has you screen all those girls for jobs, but do you ever see them at work?”

you shook your head.

“but you already knew that they weren’t getting jobs, didn’t you?” chan questioned.

you processed their words and the more you thought of it the more it made sense. why else would he have you interview so many people when you couldn’t think of anywhere they would be put to work? no, there had to be an explanation. your dad would never do that. your mom would never okay it.

your eyes locked with chans and something inside of you broke, he really thought you were involved with human trafficking. he thought you were capable of conning people your age into trusting you and then giving them to creepy old men to buy and use like toys. his eyes showed no sign of doubting himself on it.

you broke down, burying your face in your hands and curling up into yourself, trying to disappear. how could he think that of you? is this what they all thought? what hyunjin thought?

chan scoffed and stood as he was about to say something else, but jisung interrupted in a hesitant and soft tone.

“hyung, i really don’t think she knew.”

chan looked at him before looking back at your distressed state, desperately trying to catch your breath and stop the tears. you didn’t want to look so pathetic in front of them.

“we can talk more later. she’s no use right now.”

he turned to leave the room and everyone followed him out, save hyunjin. he lingered, waiting until everyone else was out before pulling the door shut and crouching down next to you.

he reached a hand to smooth down your hair but you recoiled from his touch. he seemed shocked at your reaction but regained composure so quickly you weren’t even sure if what you saw was surprise.

was he really still going to act like he cared? the tears staining your cheeks weren’t given a chance to dry as more fell over them.

despite your attempt to hide how badly you were breaking, your voice shook with every word you said.

“why, hyunjin?”

he stood and shrugged, his caring personality from moments before long gone. you guessed you had imagined it after all. 

“it’s just work.”

“you-“ your voice broke, “you never loved me! you let me think you loved me.”

he just stared at you. you couldn’t tell what was worse, when he pretended to care or moments like that where it was obvious he never did.

“you let me fall in love with you, hyunjin!” you were yelling by now, “i trusted you! i let you take my virginity and i-“ you choked down a sob, “i loved you so much.” you raised your eyes to meet his, “it meant nothing to you? you didn’t feel anything? all the times you said you loved me and all the times you made love to me, you felt nothing?”

if there was any flicker of guilt or pain he felt at your words, he did a hell of a job hiding it.

“nope.” he shrugged, speaking with a dry tone, “having something to put my dick in was just a perk of the job.”

you didn’t say anything else, you just watched him leave in silence, letting yourself sink completely to the floor as the door shut behind him.

you couldn’t see it, but in the hallway just outside the door, hyunjin pressed the back of his head against the wall as he brought his hands to his face, desperately trying to shake the aching feeling from his heart.

to say you were surprised when they actually brought you breakfast the next morning would be an understatement. you expected cruel, harsh punishments until you confessed to things you didn’t even know. 

instead, you got a neat plate containing pancakes, eggs, and some bacon, all delivered by the youngest of the group, the only one that was a freshman with you.

you hesitantly accepted, chuckling softly at the plastic cutlery. 

“thanks, jeongin.”

he fidgeted nervously, “no problem, noona. hyunjin said you liked this kind of stuff for breakfast so-“

he stopped speaking mid sentence  when your eyes snapped up from the plate to him at the mention of your boyfriends name. 

was he even your boyfriend anymore? ex boyfriend?

“did he make these?” you gestured to the pancakes. jeongin nodded, and suddenly the food didn’t seem as appealing as it had when he first brought it. 

you managed to choke down most of the meal, but not even a whole bottle of maple syrup could cover up the bitter taste the food left in your mouth. you thought back to all the other times he’d made you breakfast like this. 

the morning after you let him take your virginity came to your mind. he’d woken you up with a gentle kiss and gave you breakfast in bed. he ate with you and told you how much he loved you, that he never wanted to lose you. the memory used to be one of your favorites, now it just made you want to throw up the pancakes you’d forced down your throat earlier.

jeongin stayed with you until you told him you were done eating and you were surprisingly sad to see him leave, shutting the door behind him when he left and leaving you alone in the cold room again.

jeongin brought you all of your meals. he brought you lunch and dinner that day. he sat with you the whole time you ate those, too. he always seemed like he wanted to say something to you but was hesitant to. he seemed to genuinely feel bad for doing this to you. 

jeongin was the only person you’d seen all day until a few hours after dinner, you couldn’t tell the time, the nine of them squished into your cell again, just like the day before. you were mentally preparing yourself for another emotional draining.

you flinched when felix took a step towards you, reaching his hands to yours. he assured you he didn’t want to hurt you, saying that jeongin mentioned he’d noticed you needed patching up. he examined your wrists, all bruised and cut up from struggling against the cuffs. it’s funny, you hadn’t even realized your injuries. hell, you hadn’t realized you were struggling enough to cause yourself injury. 

he pushed the cuffs away from the major cuts and bruises before taking an alcohol wipe to them. you hissed when it came in contact with your cuts, wincing at the way the cloth turned red so quickly.

he wrapped small bandages around both of your wrists, both to keep the old cuts from opening and to prevent new ones.

felix offered a small smile as he finished up and joined the rest of the boys on the other side of the room. 

the gentle moment was short lived.

“anything new to tell us since yesterday, y/n?”

your eyes fell on the source of the voice, none other than chan. you let out a sad laugh.

“it seems like you’re the ones enlightening me.”

he lurched forward, grabbing the chain of the cuffs and pulling you close to him so your faces were only inches apart. you winced at the harsh movement against your wrists.

“you think this is funny?”

you didn’t respond, so he tugged the chain again, earning another small cry from you. this was not the chan you knew and it terrified you.

“hyung-“ jeongin began, only to be cut off by a glare from chan.

“no.”

another small tug, what a fucking sadist.

“no, i swear, i don’t know anything. okay? i swear.”

he stared into your eyes for longer than you were comfortable with before releasing his grip on the cuffs, letting your hands drop.

without saying anything more, he left the room. the others went to follow him out, but were stopped by your small voice.

“jeongin?”

he turned, making his way to you. you lifted up your wrists, showing the bandages completely bled through. chan tugging on them must have irritated them. hyunjin lingered at the door and watched the way you let jeongin move your hand around to look at it so comfortably, so different from how you’d cowered away from him the day before.

it frustrated him, seeing you trusting jeongin like that. it should be him, right? you don’t even know jeongin that well, but you’d know him for months. he couldn’t blame you, though. why would you still trust him after everything he’d put you through?

he was snapped out of his thoughts as jeongin met him at the door and stated he needed to go to the medical wing to get bandages to replace the bloodied ones you had on. hyunjin contemplated staying with you while jeongin went to grab the supplies, but one quick look at you could tell you were begging him not to.

he was angry at chan. there was no reason to treat you like that. he didn’t care that it was you because he didn’t have any feelings for you, but no one deserved that treatment when it’s unsure and improbable that they’re guilty.

he didn’t have any feelings for you. it was just him getting used to not having to act like he did. he didn’t actually care for you. 

he didn’t, right?

jeongin brought you breakfast again the next morning, immediately going to check your bandages. he smiled when he saw that they hadn’t been too soiled, meaning you didn’t bleed too much since last night. 

you stared at the food and it was like he could guess what you were thinking.

he nudged you with a small smile, “i made breakfast this morning.”

you chuckled before taking a bite of what he’d made.

“chan hyung says he believes you, by the way.”

you cocked your head in confusion.

“he thinks you’re innocent.”

you scoffed, “that’s good, because i am.”

“he’s really not that mean, you know.”

you huffed again, raising your wrists and showing the bandages and cuffs.

“he’s a sadistic prick who kills people for no reason.” you gestured to the blood stain on the floor.

“oh, you mean that? no, chan shot him because he ran a huge animal fighting ring.”

your eyes widened. okay, maybe the man deserved some respect.

jeongin had had just left to take your plate to the kitchen when hyunjin, changbin, and chan entered your little cell. 

you noticed hyunjin eyeing the bandages but chose not to vocalize it.

“we believe you.”

you remained seated on the cold floor.

“but we can’t just let you go, you’re a threat now. you know who we are and you know we’re after your father.”

“so, what? you’re going to keep me locked up in here forever?”

“i was thinking of giving you your own room and bed actually, but if you’d prefer this...”

he glanced around the room and the corners of your mouth turned up at chans attempt to joke with you. this was the chan you knew. not the one who toyed with your injuries the day before.

“look, y/n, i know he’s your father, but it’s clear you don’t want anything to do with what he’s really running. if you want, you’re welcome to stay here.”

“and if i don’t want to?”

he smiled again, “well, it’s not really a choice, i was just trying to be polite.”

this even got a smile back from you, which irked hyunjin even more. you could look chan in the eyes and smile for him when he’d practically tortured you less than 24 hours earlier but you couldn’t even meet his eyes?

“so?”

chans phone chirped and he slipped it out of his pocket.

“okay.”

he nodded to show he’d heard your response, “i have to go. seungmin says the front cameras detected motion.”

he handed the key to hyunjin before hurrying out the door. hyunjin made a move towards you, but stopped when he saw the glare on your face. he turned, handing the key to changbin. he clenched his jaw shut as changbin moved closer to you and you didn’t do much as tense up at his proximity. we’re you really that angry at him?

before changbin could unlock your cuffs, his phone went off with the same sound chans had.

“shit, more motion detectors went off.”

he passed the key to hyunjin and, seeing that he was your last option, you allowed him to get close enough to you to slip the key into the handcuffs, finally freeing you of them.

you rubbed your wrists, wincing at the contact. he looked at your wrists and your tear stained face.

there was nothing he wanted to do more in that moment than kiss it all better.

suddenly, two men you’d never seen before stormed into the room, guns raised. hyunjin seemed to recognize them, stepping in front of you.

“woah, woah, woah! chan cleared her, she’s good to go.”

was he protecting you? no, he was just standing up for you because chan had decided to keep you alive.

“that was then. he changed his mind.”

hyunjin adjusted the way he was standing to a more protective stance, covering your entire body with his own. maybe he did care.

“what? why?”

one of the men gestured to you with his gun before lowering it, “her little rescue squad showed up.”

hyunjin turned back to you as if to ask “is that true?”

you shook your head, you didn’t know anything about a rescue. how did your dad even know you were here?

“move, hwang. chans orders.”

you felt your stomach drop as he slowly moved out from in front of you. your eyes went wide and locked with his. he looked just as scared as you felt.

you turned back to the two men as they raised their guns again. you shut your eyes, praying that despite what they’d done to you, all nine of the boys got out of this alright. and despite how much you loved your parents, you hoped that they got taken down.

you took in a deep breath, waiting for the gunshot.

you felt your heart stop as two shots rang out.

you slowly opened your eyes, you didn’t feel a bullet wound. you were met with the two men laying on the ground with bullet holes in their heads. you turned to see hyunjin putting his gun back into his waistband before reaching out for your hand.

you pulled away, maybe he had just saved you from assassination, but you were not going anywhere with him. you had to find jeongin, he would keep you safe.

you weren’t able to act on your decision, though. he grabbed your arm, right above where the bandage stopped so he wouldn’t hurt you, and pulled you out of the room. you cringed as you stepped over the two bodies, careful not to step into the puddle of blood.

he lead you down a hallway that you vaguely remembered walking through when they first brought you here. you follow him up a staircase and he mumbled to you that he was taking you to his car so he could get you out of there. just before you were able to reach the garage, you was cut off by a few men you didn’t recognize. you looked at hyunjin, assuming they worked with him, but he shook his head. before you registered that they must work for your dad, two men had pulled hyunjin away from you and were holding him still. another one of the men pressed a button on the device in his ear.

“sir, we found her.”

you couldn’t run, they would kill hyunjin. you had no choice but to wait for who you assumed was your father to show up.

when he did, he immediately pulled you into a big hug. you pushed him away, disgusted. he didn’t seem to notice your disdain, grabbing your wrist and lifting it up with concern in his eyes.

“i told you they were no good, honey.”

you pulled yourself from his grip, ignoring the sting in your wrist for doing so.

“don’t fucking touch me.”

he reached out to you, but you swatted him away.

“my angel, what lies did they tell you to make you act this way?”

you swallowed hard before speaking, “they said you run a large human trafficking ring. that you use the people you say i’m interviewing for jobs and sell them to people like they’re just a toy to play with. people my age, dad.” your voice shrunk, “how long until you run out of people to pawn off and decide to sell me?”

he let out a small laugh, “sweetheart, i would never let you get in the hands of men like that! look, i even saved you from these pathetic excuses for men.”

hyunjin jerked around in the men’s arms and you locked eyes with him for a moment. you turned back to your father and forced a smile onto your lips.

“you’re right, daddy. you saved me. i should have listened to you when you told me to break up with him so long ago.”

he smiled back, “it’s okay cupcake, we all make mistakes.” you tried not to cringe as he pulled you into a tight hug.

“here,” he pulled a gun from his waistband, the one he swore he only carried to protect you and your mother, “you deserve the honors.”

you took the gun from his hands, forcing a smile to stay on your face as you familiarized yourself with the way it felt to hold. you’d shot a gun before, but never outside of a shooting range.

“you remember how, dear?” your father asked.

you nodded, lifting it up in both of your hands and pointing it at hyunjin. his eyes were frantic, like he knew you were planning something, but there was still an ounce of doubt, a small part of him that thought you would pull the trigger.

you clicked the safety off and fired a shot at the floor without hesitating. the noise rang through your ears, it was sure to be heard around the entire mansion, right? the boys would hear it and come running to help.

your dad lunged to take the gun from you but you raised it again, pointing it at him. everyone was shocked and hyunjin took that as an opportunity to free himself from his captors, moving so he was shoulder to shoulder with you and pulling out his own gun. you ignored the volt of electricity that shot through you at finally being close to him again.

your fathers men raised their own weapons and your dad made no attempt to have them lower their arms.

he let out a dry laugh, “i thought i raised you better than this.”

before you could spit back a reply, hyunjin did it for you.

“what, better than not operating a sex ring?”

“better than spending her time with some lowlife-“

shots rang through the building and you felt hyunjin tackle you, trapping you between his body and the floor and shielding you from the gunfire. after what felt like hours, the noise stopped and you heard minho speak.

“jesus fucking christ, is that all of them then?”

hyunjin slowly picking himself up off of you, checking to make sure the coast was clear before letting you back out into the open. the first thing you laid eyes on was the body of your father, fallen to the ground with a hold in his chest and his white button up stained red.

“no!” you screamed, and hyunjin pulled you into his chest, shielding you from looking at your fathers corpse any longer. you wept into his chest. you barely heard him yell for someone to move the body as you felt your heart snap even more, which you didn’t think was possible. 

you only looked back up when you heard chans voice, and he sounded mad.

“hyunjin, why the fuck is she still alive?”

you jumped at his words and hyunjin held you tighter.

“why would she need to be dead, hyung?” he yelled back.

he didn’t respond to hyunjin, instead directing his words at you.

“how the fuck did they know you were here?”

“i-i really don’t know chan, i’m sorry, he always talked about thinking you guys were a gang and i guess he assumed it was you who took me and-“

you cut yourself off with a sob, muttering ‘i’m sorry’ over and over again, hoping to god he would see that you didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

changbin approached him, wrapping and arm around his shoulder and suggesting they go for a walk. chan agreed, leaving with changbin.

jeongin kneeled down beside where you and hyunjin were still bundled together.

“he’ll calm down, noona, he knows you didn’t do anything, he’s just upset. felix got shot.”

you sat up straight, “what? is he okay?”

jeongin nodded, waving a hand dismissively, “he’s fine, it was just a graze, but hyung’s always been super protective over felix.”

you nodded, relaxing into hyunjins arms again. you had been so wrapped up in your own thoughts you hadn’t realized that the rest of the boys had moved all of the bodies already. your chest stung when you remembered your father was among them.

 your father. he was dead, but what about your mom? was she okay?

you patted your pockets for your phone, but they’d taken it from you when they took you from hyunjins apartment.

“hey, woah, baby, what’s wrong?”

“can i use your phone?”

he agreed, pulling it from his pocket and handing it to you. you dialed your mothers phone number.

as the phone rang, you ran possible scenarios through your head. did she know what your father was really doing, or was she in the dark, just like you? 

the phone went to voicemail. you left a message saying it was you and that you were okay and to call back when she got it.

you couldn’t stop thinking about why it just kept ringing. why didn’t she answer?

you handed hyunjin back his phone and allowed him to help you stand. you weren’t injured, but you were shaking from the stress of what had just happened and your legs nearly buckled underneath you.

he caught you, picking you up in his arms. you didn’t have the effort to object like you normally would whenever he picked you up.

he told the boys he was going to take you to get cleaned up and they okayed it, saying they would handle clean up and for him to focus on making sure you were okay.

you felt bad when he laid you on his bed, it was so nice and neat and you were gross from being locked up for days. he insisted that it was fine as he dug through his wardrobe for the smallest pair of sweatpants he owned before lifting you back in his arms and carrying you to his bathroom.

you were in awe as he sat you on the edge of the tub, who needed a bathroom this fancy? he laughed at your amazement, tugging the hem of your shirt.

“let’s get these off and you can see how nice the tub is, yeah?”

you nodded, allowing him to slip your short over your shoulders. you removed the rest of your clothing yourself while he got the bath ready for you. 

“is this temperature okay, baby?”

you reached a hand into the water and nodded.

“perfect.”

he helped you into the water and you chuckled as he poured some bubble bath solution in.

“you take bubble baths?” you teased.

he scoffed, “are you crazy? of course i take bubble baths.”

he helped you scrub the dirt off of yourself and you couldn’t help but feel bad that he was helping. he was still fully clothed, the fabric getting drenched the more he interacted with you in the water.

when you commented on it, he smirked, “what, you saying you want my clothes off?”

you laughed and hit his arm, causing bubbles to stick to his shirt sleeve.

his eyes widened and his smile grew, “oh, it’s on!”

he leaned forward to tickle you but he missed, falling into the bath beside you.

you threw your head back and laughed as he pushed his hair back and wiped the bubbles from his face.

“ew! i fell into the gross y/n water!”

you went to hit him but he caught your arm, careful not to grab the hurt part of your wrist.

“i’m just kidding” he spoke softly, leaning in to place a gentle kiss to your lips.

he helped you wash up a bit more before draining the tub and taking you to the shower to wash off. although you bathed, that meant you sat in that dirt and grime for the whole time.

he stepped in with you, it’s not like he had anything to lose with his clothing already drenched. you smiled as he poured some of his shampoo into his hands and worked it through your hair, it smelled just like him.

when you were finished, he gave you the pair of sweats he’d picked out earlier and one of his sweatshirts, the one you always asked him to wear so you could steal it. he made sure you were comfy and had something to drink before showering off himself, finally slipping out of the uncomfortably wet garments and stepping into some sweatpants and a sweatshirt of his own. 

he walked back to his bed smiled at the sight of you in it, fast asleep. he couldn’t blame you, you’d had a rough couple of days.

his attention was moved from you to his phone when it started buzzing on the table next to his bed. he frowned, not recognizing the number of the caller. regardless, he answered and put the phone to his ear.

“hello?”

“y/n? oh my god, who are you, where’s y/n?”

it must be your mother. he shook you awake, feeling guilty that he had to wake you when you obviously needed the rest.

“baby, it’s your mom.”

you took the phone from him, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“mom? are you okay?”

a sigh of relief fell from her lips, “i’m fine baby, the police just showed up at my door and told me all of the things your father was involved with. god, i’m so sorry baby, i had no clue. i thought it was just... anyway, they offered me witness protection if i testify against the company, i won’t be charged with anything. i just-“ she cut herself off with a sniffle.

“i know, mom, me too. “ you paused, “did they tell you about dad?”

“yes, sweetheart, they did. they got an anonymous call stating where his body was. looks like he was shot. it’s less than what he deserved.”

you let out a little gasp, “mom!”

“what, baby? it’s true, you and i both know it.”

you sighed, she wasn’t wrong, but he was still your father and her husband, “i guess so.”

“okay sweetheart, it’s late, you should get some sleep. call me if you need anything, okay? i love you.”

“okay. i love you too, mom. goodnight.”

you handed hyunjin his phone and he placed it back on the table before leaning over and placing a kiss to your lips. he crawled under the covers with you, pulling you close to his body.

“i know chan offered you your own room, but what would you say about staying in mine?”

[giorno-plays-piano]

Money, Money, Money Part 1

Pairing: mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader, slight Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: lots of swearing, silly drunk mobs, mentions of alcoholism, parody, Peter is adult, is this a crack fic??

Words: 2578.

Summary: When Steve finds out somebody has stolen their money, Bucky realizes he has to take his ass off the leather couch in his office, finally.

P.S. This is my first attempt to write humor and I’m sorry in advance for everything I’ve written here 😅

_________________

“BITCH, DID I STUTTER WHEN I SAID TO KEEP THAT SAFE CLOSED AT ALL TIMES?”

Allyson massaged her temples softly and let out a groan: if Mr. Rogers continued to yell like that, he would definitely choke soon. This morning he had been pretending to be the death, vengeance and fury, ready to kick the ass of her immediate superior, James Barnes, who acted like he was deaf, unable to pull himself from the couch where he slept after getting drunk as a fish last night. Oh, poor Bucky. Apparently, he fucked things up again if Mr. Rogers stormed into his office like he was getting chased by a 200-pound dog.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, you son of a...” glancing at a pouting man-child with a three-day beard, Steve covered his face with his palm and let out an exasperated sigh, “... respectable woman who would die of shame if she saw you now!”

“Come on, Stevie,” the man yawned, finally moving his huge, muscular body up to sit instead of just laying on the couch since he felt a little guilty Steve was getting all riled up while he just chilled, “why so serious? Yeah, somebody took a bit of cash from the safe, it’s not a big deal.”

Allyson heard everything as if they were speaking right in front of her - Bucky was a real Mr. Cheapo who didn’t want to rent an office with decent walls - and quickly closed her ears, wishing she had taken her earplugs today. Her boss just made a grave mistake, and now both of them were going to pay for it with their eardrums.

“NOT A BIG DEAL? NOT A BIG DEAL, YOU MASSIVE BAG OF DOUCHE?! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH MONEY WAS THERE, HUH?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THOSE MONEY WERE FOR?!”

Seriously, she considered getting a new job, but these free daily standup shows were both tiring and so fucking funny she was afraid she might wet her seat.

“Oh my fucking God, Bucky, I swear I’ll kill you, I’ll... no, I have a better idea!” Steve gave his best friend a dirty look. “I’ll call your uncle. Yeah, you know which one. He’ll be sooo happy to take you drunk ass to jail and then give your mama a call. I bet she has a cure for both your attitude and alcoholism.”

“You wouldn’t do that!”

Suddenly realizing the danger he was in, Bucky quickly got up, almost falling to the floor but holding on the leather chair in the very last second. When Steve talked about calling his uncle, a chief of police of the neighboring town where his whole family lived, it meant things were going bad. Real bad.

“Bucky, it was the part we were going to invest into Pierce’s casino. I have to take it to him tomorrow morning. TOMORROW FUCKING MORNING, DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU STINKING DRUNK?”

“I’m drunk but not deaf, Steve!”

“Oh my God, I’m driving you to a rehab, go gather your stuff right now!”

Allyson sighed, getting up and proceeding to choose the most beautiful cup to fill it with fresh coffee: when their conflicts escalated to threats, it meant her boss would soon start to sweet-talk, apologizing to his best friend and promising to sober up and get things right. Every time she felt like Mr. Rogers would really do something to Bucky, the guy used his natural charisma and charm and got away with anything by just reminding Steve how he fought for his best friend in the dark alleys when Rogers was a sick, skinny kid. It worked every damn time.

There they were again, talking about same things with Bucky swearing on his mother’s life that he will find the money and bring it back to Steve. Usually it meant the threats were coming to an end, and soon Mr. Rogers would open the door and come out red as a lobster, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. There he would see her with a cup of nice coffee with cream and two spoons of sugar just like he preferred, gladly accepting it and saying nobody understand him but her. Then Allyson would smile compassionately, listen to his small talk before he went out the office, and wait until her grumpy boss would fall out the room, reeking alcohol, and ask her what the fuck had happened yesterday.

After that in a couple of minutes things would finally settle down, and Allyson would have a chance to give a call to her best friend.

_______________________________

Your day couldn’t start better: you had finally received your Amazon order - hooray to the stupid makeup tools you would use, like, once a year - and even watched your favorite Netflix series with a cup of a fragrant coffee with marshmallows because it was Sunday and you were finally free from both work and cleaning the apartment. It felt so nice to just do absolutely nothing, laying on your couch with a piece of pizza in your hand. Seriously, even a workaholic like you had to do it more often.

Your lazy morning was interrupted by Peter, a sweet college student who was getting into troubles more often than a drunk in a local bar: you seriously considered calling him Harry Potter after you found him half-naked with a scratch on his forehead standing in the corridor of your building and holding a broom. To protect himself from bullies, he said, by the look on his face you could tell it was as good as a magic wand against 6"4 ft tall guys, seriously.

Since he rented an apartment with other unlucky nerds who had zero skills how to survive in this cruel world, you ended up nearly baby-sitting Peter, patching him up after he was getting in a fight and lending him some money time after time when he struggled to pay rent or buy food. His parents were elderly people with income below average, but they still did whatever they could to give him an education, so you decided to give the guy a hand.

Now that baby was standing in front of you, lit up like a Christmas tree, with a bouquet of wonderful pink roses, big box of hand-crafted chocolates and a whole bag of what looked like some very fine food, even a bottle of champagne clinking inside.

"Good morning, Fairy Godmother! I came to bring back what I owe you!" His smile was a mile wide when he looked at your face, happy to the point he couldn't stand still, dancing like those Duracell rabbits in the tv ad.

"You're up early, Cinderella."

You yawned, laughing when you saw the guy pouting at the nickname you gave him - tf he expected for calling you Fairy Godmother?

"Don't stand there, come in."

When he actually handed you the flowers and chocolates, giving you a quick peck on the cheek shyly, you froze, finally realizing he brought all this for you. Wait, what? Where the heck did he get so much money to buy that expensive stuff? You thought he was helping his other neighbor who was planning to finally propose to his girlfriend. Perplexed to the point you nearly missed that peck, you blinked at tomato red Peter.

"Please don't tell me you robbed your 90-year-old paralytic professor."

"Why don't you ask if I robbed a bank?" He pouted again, putting the bag on the floor and getting a hundred dollar banknote out of his old leather wallet. "I actually came to thank you for everything you've done for me. And I didn't rob anyone! I got a real job!"

"Real job?" You eyed him curiously. "But don't you already have a job in delivery?"

"Pfft, you can't call it a job. It was getting one nasty smelling pizza from one place to the other while looking miserable."

You barely held your laugh, leaving the bouquet and chocolates on the side table and rubbing guy's back. Poor Peter, nobody was giving him a hand - while you couldn't question people's decision since the guy wasn't the most reliable one, it was still a shame he wasn't treated decently as if all of them weren't young and careless once.

Wait, but who on Earth gave him such a well-paid job all of a sudden? He must have spent hundreds of dollars on the bouquet, chocolates, food and champagne, not even counting those 100 dollars he owed.

Oh God.

"Please don't tell me you're working for some shady business." You looked at him in horror, your hand flying to your mouth. "Peter, is it Tony's band?!"

"Jesus woman, why would I work for some stupid mob." The guy rolled his eyes, and you sighed in relief, not knowing what to except from this trouble on two skinny legs. “I’m telling you, it’s nothing bad! I just have to keep it a secret before I get a contract. Once I figure it out, I’ll explain everything, I swear!”

“Alright, alright, don’t stress over it, I’m not your Ma.” Smirking, you went to take a square glass vase you hadn’t use in ages, filling it with water to drop the bouquet inside. “Let’s celebrate it, then! Woah, careful there, give me that bottle until you drop it on my clean floor, I’ve been scrubbing it for hours yesterday!”

_______________________

Bucky still felt like Steve was making too much of a big deal out of it: obviously, it was Tony who went to him at night when Bucky was already drunk like a monkey, celebrating the birth of Clint’s daughter. Nobody else had the courage to steal from him, Steve’s right hand, an ex-soldier who had a reputation of a man killing with the first punch. Not that Bucky ever killed anybody, actually being a ex-trumpet in an army band...

Anyway, the man was heading over to Stark’s Tower, a motel where he and all his guys lived when his wife Pepper was out of town. Pepper had definitely been out of town lately since Tony didn’t call: when she was coming back, Steve and Tony were having a two-day truce with nobody getting in a fight because it was making Mrs. Stark upset, and when she was upset, both Steve and Tony didn’t risk getting out of their holes to face this enraged blonde woman who could make anyone wet themselves with one her glance. If there were anyone killing with just one punch in the town, it got to be Pepper.

As he got closer in his Cadillac that looked like it went through fire and water before being sold to Bucky, Barnes stared at the motel suspiciously: it was strangely quiet with everyone hiding inside, not a man guarding the motel’s entrance. What the hell happened? Tony loved showing off, pretending he ruled over the town, and he would definitely act like a king after stealing Steve’s and his money. It was unbelievable Bucky so nobody welcoming him with a smirk.

Hoping he didn’t use all that money for emptying a liquor store, Bucky parked the car and went to the motel, dying to have some beer: one heartless blonde boss of his emptied his fridge.

“Oh, more drinking partners returning to continue the fun, huh?”

Bucky froze immediately, staring at Pepper who stood in the doorway with a face of an iron maiden. Jesus fucking Christ. She returned to the city way before Tony told him, and it was clear she found him not in the condition she expected to. While Bucky considered whether it was better to run, Tony’s head appeared somewhere behind his wife, and Barnes saw Tony was as drunk as him, if not even more. He could see a huge blue mark from Pepper’s heavy hand on Stark’s cheek.

“Who’s that, honey?” The man asked innocently, earning an enraged glance from his wife, and Bucky thought he should have run. “Hi, Buck! Come on in, it’s ok if you didn’t bring beer even if I asked twice.”

Oh. Something was going on. Of course, Bucky could rat the man out immediately, telling Pepper he wasn’t drinking with Tony yesterday’s night, but he wasn’t such a heartless bastard - by the look on Stark’s face Barnes could see his sweet blonde wifey would beat poor Tony to death with her Dior handbag.

“Sorry, I blacked out for a couple of hours in my car.” He mumbled, bowing his head in respect. “Pepper, such a pleasure to see you.”

“Come on in, alcoholic.” Her gaze was heavy, and Bucky shivered a little, carefully leaving his shoes near the door and scurrying away to the coach where Tony sat, nervously biting his fingers. “Well, do you wanna tell me something, huh? How many hookers have you brought here yesterday?”

Glancing to Tony and back to Pepper, Barnes suddenly realized his frenemy had been so drunk he had no hecking idea whether somebody really brought hookers to the motel - it was a total taboo, but once they got drunk they could barely control themselves. Once they literally woke up to a Santa Claus singing Jingle Bells in the tub in the middle of June because Tony missed Christmas.

Of course, Stark would never slip up the night before Pepper was coming back to town, but, apparently, she didn’t stay with her mom for as long as she planned, and Tony was royally fucked.

“I’ve asked you a question.”

And now Bucky was, too, if he didn’t think of something quick. Of course, he could tell her the truth, but it meant losing Tony completely, and Barnes didn’t want that. A real mafioso should have at least one strong enemy, right?

“I’m sorry, Pepper, but I don’t think there were any hookers here last night.” He said, carefully choosing words. “You see, first, Tony never allows us to. Second, we’re good Christians. We would never invite some hookers when we celebrated the birth of Clint’s daughter!”

As he got silent, enjoying the effect his words were having on Pepper, Bucky looked at the man sitting to his right, watching Tony’s eyes watering: it was definitely God himself who sent Barnes his way that morning, saving his from near death. Nothing would work better than this excuse. Clint and all Bucky’s guys were so drunk to the point they barely remembered what had happened, and it would be easy to convince them Tony and his gang came to see Barnes for something and ended up staying with all of them.

Besides, there was a nice bonus Bucky could add to make it work even better.

“By the way, Clint named her Natasha. That’s also the name of your mom, right?”

By the look on Tony’s face the man realized he was ready to sing.

“How did he know my mom’s name?” Pepper eyed Steve’s right hand distrustfully, but he could tell she was less irritated.

“Oh, you know, he and his wife couldn’t choose the name, so we started saying whatever names we knew, and Tony mentioned Natasha.”

For a second Bucky thought Stark was going to kiss him through excess of joy.

When he finally left the motel, getting his pack of beer given him by lovely Pepper who changed the anger to mercy, Tony ran out of the house after him, giving him a pat on the shoulder and whispering quietly, “I own you one, brother.”

Bucky sighed. Stark didn’t take the money.

______________

Tags: @finleyjayne​​ @alexakeyloveloki​​ @helenaeisenhower​​ @villanellevi​​ @hurricanerin​​ @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @navegandoaciegas​ @rosalynshields​ @brattycherubwrites​ @sllooney​ @angrythingstarlight​ @lookiamtrying​ @buckysbunny​ @soleil-dor​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @dillybuggg​ @literate-lamb​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @sarge-barnes-sir​ @buckybarnesplumwhore​ @jaysayey​ @megzdoodle​ @gotnofucks​ @lux-ravenwolf​ @iheartsebandchris​ @ximebebx​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @sourpatchspinster​

[yesttoheaven]

I SEE YOU – chapter IV

pairing – arthur fleck x female!reader

wc – 2.3k

warnings – idk... misty being a b*tch with arthur?

a/n – hi everyone! I hope you are well because I'm brazilian and I cannot say the same lol the president is a piece of shit and he can't rule the country in the middle of a pandemic (not even without the pandemic, in fact)

anyway enjoy the chapter!

English is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors.

Y/N – your name

chapter one. chapter two.

chapter three. chapter four.

"What are you doing here, Misty?" The surprise was notable in Y/N's words.

Many people could walk through that door, but Misty was definitely not one of them.

"I should ask you the same question..." The woman came over and put her hands on the actress' shoulders, smiling amiably. "But we don't have time for that right now. You have a dinner to go! And it is not right to keep a man like Charles waiting."

"Charles?" Arthur asked, trying to find a way to join the conversation. "Is he also an actor?"

After these simple words, the redhead burst out laughing and Arthur didn't understand what he had done wrong this time. He was just curious and a little interested to know who was the man who had a date with Y/N that night.

"Actor? God, have you never heard of Charles Lewis Tiffany?" Misty questioned how if the fact that Arthur didn’t know the man was an offense to humanity and Arthur just shook his head, too embarrassed to say anything else.

Who the hell was this man? The Pope? And why did Y/N have a dinner with Pope?

"It's okay, Arthur." Always so graceful, the actress reassured him and left Misty's side to be close to him. "Charles owns Tiffany & Co., the one that appears in the movie Breakfast at Tiffany's... Have you watched this movie before?"

"Oh, oftentimes!"

"Me either! And now Charles wants me to be the face of his new collection! I'm so excited, he came to Gotham just to follow it up in person!" The happiness shining in her eyes was contagious, but Misty didn’t like seeing Y/N squeeze the man’s arm gently.

"I hate to have to do this... the conversation is so pleasant, but we have to go, mon cher." With a smile, Y/N's manager adjusted the bag on her shoulder. She wanted to take the actress away from this freak as soon as possible.

"You cannot go without the VHS tape." Arthur objected, receiving a death glare from Misty, but the only thing that mattered to him was Y/N. "I'll get this for you." After these words, the man left the living room with a reason to make her stay a little longer in his apartment.

"Well, I think we're going to have to wait." Y/N shrugged, but inside she was beaming.

Feeling her mouth dry, she picked up the glass of water on the table, but that was her worst mistake.

"What are you doing? Don't drink this! That dirty glass is full of germs!" The glass was snatched from her hand and Y/N looked at Misty in disbelief.

"That glass is not dirty, Misty."

"How can you be sure of that? I heard that the Narrows sewer is one of the worst in Gotham!"

"Thanks for the lesson, but that didn’t come from the Narrows sewer. This water is from the kitchen tap."

"Oh my God..." The actress could have sworn that the woman's face turned green and she would vomit at any moment. "Why did you drink this? You'll be sick!"

Before Y/N had a chance to respond to these insanities, someone called her. She ran over to the bag and took out her cell phone. It was Charles.

"Hey, Charles! It's good to talk to you." On the other side, all she received were strange noises. The man's voice was being cut off and it was difficult to understand. "The connection is awful..."

"Why am I not surprised? Narrows is the end of the world!" Misty commented, rolling her eyes.

Without time for this discussion, Y/N said:

"Maybe in the corridor I will get a better signal."

"Be careful, you don't know what kind of neighbors there are in this place." She warned, listening to the door open and close, but Y/N said nothing.

Alone in the living room, Misty had the same disgusted look as when she arrived. For her this apartment is small even for an ant and this wallpaper is ridiculous, but in the midst of so much poverty, something on the couch attracted her attention.

"What do we have right here? I don't believe he has a diary..." The woman whispers to herself, laughing, after picking up Arthur's journal. She knew it was wrong, but she was bored.

The first few pages were OK, he had a shitty life like any other unfortunate person, but what came next scared the hell out of her. Misty knew there was something wrong with this man. The instant she saw him, she knew, but that... those words... were from a sick person. Arthur was a disgusting pervert. The redhead needed a moment to breathe and then she saw the magazines on the table and an scissors...

Oh no. He intends to include Y/N in this depravity show!

"I finally found." With bright eyes, Arthur looked for Y/N in the living room, but all he found was Misty... and his journal. "W-What... What are you d-doing?"

"Stay away from me!" She exclaimed, backing away for fear that he would do something against her. "I swear, if you get close I'll scream so loud and when Y/N comes through that door, I will tell her your little secret. She will be so disappointed, but she will finally find out who you really are... A perv!"

"N-No, please... You got it wrong." He tried, his voice taking on a desperate tone. Arthur didn't want to lose the actress's friendship. She was too important for him. "I c-can explain."

"Oh, can you explain? You will glue Y/N's head to a cat's body and then you will sit on that old sofa and touch yourself? You should be in Arkham! You're a sick person! I can't believe Y/N was alone with you..."

Arthur felt his stomach churning.

"You're wrong... I have a lot of respect for her. Y/N is special to me and I would never do something like that."

"I don't want to hear your excuses!" The woman threw the journal at him and Arthur cringed like a frightened dog. After hitting him on the back, the journal fell to the floor and when he saw those collages, he felt ashamed of himself. "Listen to me... I will say this only once: Stay away from her. It doesn’t matter what kind of fantasies you’ve created in your sick head, Y/N will not be a part of that. If I know that after today you keep talking to her, I'll call the police and when they find out you're a fucking perv, you will spend the rest of your days in Arkham." She warned with all the letters and threats, now it was up to him to choose to cooperate or not. This man is too old to play being a teenager. These images of naked women, these cats and those sad quotes in his journal prove just one thing. Maybe he's a sexual predator, but Misty wouldn't be here to find that out either. "Enjoy your pornography and leave Y/N alone. I hope I never see you again."

Arthur saw his world fall apart as soon as the redhead left his apartment with the worst assumptions about him. He was not a perverted monster. He would never touch Y/N without her consent and would never endanger her life. Never ever. Y/N was the only good thing about Gotham; she was a light at the end of the tunnel. So angelic and peaceful. Whenever she smiles, butterflies appear in his stomach and Arthur knows what these famous butterflies mean, but he doesn't know what those collages mean... If Y/N knew, she would probably be afraid of him.

In the corridor, the actress was trapped in a bubble, talking animatedly with Charles. The call had no specific reason, the man just wanted to make sure everything was fine for dinner that night.

"Okay... This is one of Gotham's best restaurants. Trust me, you will love the place!" She assured him, intending to make a good impression. It wasn't every day that she got a chance to dine with the genius behind Tiffany & Co. and represent that brand. This was an important step in her career. "Now I need to go, Charles. See you soon, bye!" Y/N hummed the ending, watching Misty approach where she was. "Why are you here?"

"It's just your friend's mom. She's not feeling very well..."

"Isn't Penny okay?" Concern crossed Y/N's face and she tried to get back to apartment 8J, but Misty took her arm, lying again:

"Y/N, don't be indiscreet. This is a family problem and Arthur is taking care of it." With those words, she guided the actress to the elevator, but Y/N kept looking at the door to Arthur's apartment. "You need to prepare for dinner... I chose a beautiful dress for you."

...

THREE DAYS LATER

"Put red on her lips... Don't forget the mascara... and on the cheeks use this blush... Not this one! The peach blush!"

It was possible to say that Charles Lewis Tiffany was taking the place of the makeup artist. The woman was losing patience, Y/N realized this, but he wanted to participate in every second of it. When she finished, Charles smiled, admiring Y/N's beauty through the mirror.

"You see? You're genuinely beautiful... I think I finally found my muse." The actress was flattered by the compliments and that reflected in her smile when Charles took a blue box, but this was not a simple blue box. This is the famous Tiffany Blue Box. "I want you to meet my new creation..." He opened the box, stealing Y/N's breath instantly. "Dramatically plunging down the decolletage, an incredible emerald-cut bicolor zoisite that shifts from violet-blue to purplish-red, depending on the angle. The pendant is over 48 carats and it's wrapped in a halo of baguette diamonds and suspended from a diamond rondelle chain of over 37 total carats."

"Oh Charles, this is absolutely beautiful. I'm speechless..." She confessed, watching him take the necklace and offer to put it around her neck. Y/N accepted immediately and when the pendant touched the white fabric of the dress, she smiled at the mirror.

"Diamonds are a girl's best friend" Charles whispered, eliciting a giggle from her. "Now I need to speak to the photographer, but take a few minutes to prepare yourself." The man smiled one last time and Y/N walked to the door, opening it for him. She took the opportunity to spy on what was happening on the other side and it was possible to say that there was a little sadness in her eyes.

"What are you looking for?" Misty's voice echoed and she closed the door quickly.

"Huh... nothing!"

The woman was checking the contract – something about image authorization – and when she took her eyes off the papers, she found Y/N with a half-hearted smile.

"Go ahead... Spill the tea."

Brian was probably smoking, so Misty was her only option.

"Arthur was busy these days, but he called me this morning... He looked nervous and said he would like to talk to me, so I invited him to accompany the photoshoot, but..."

"You did what?!" Misty left the chair, interrupting her. Not wanting to start a scene, the redhead looked at Dariela, the makeup artist, and said: "Get out." The woman immediately stopped organizing her makeup and ran out of the dressing room.

"Was that necessary?" Y/N asked, crossing her arms.

"And was it necessary to invite that maniac to come here too?"

"Jesus, Misty!" She walked to the other side of the dressing room. "Manic? Really?"

"I'm just telling the truth."

"Based on what? His bank account?"

"Based on his journal." Misty replied and the actress looked in her direction with a frown. Shaking her head, the redhead let out a bitter laugh before confessing: "He doesn't use it just to write jokes... I found a lot of pornography on those pages."

Y/N felt a little uncomfortable with that. Certain things do not need to be exposed... She didn't need to know about that part of Arthur's life and Misty just invaded his privacy.

"Well... many men consume pornography daily."

"Y/N, pornography is not the point here. He makes some weird collages... women with cat heads... skulls... one of these women was tied up in a compromising position... Can you see how problematic this is?" Misty was trying to open her eyes and consequently was scaring the actress, but that was not all. "I saw the magazines. That man will probably do the same to you... your face on the body of these naked women or on a cat's body! You have always been uncomfortable with the way men see you only as a sex symbol... and now Arthur is using you as a sex toy!"

"Stop! Just stop, okay?" Y/N demanded, using an edgy tone of voice. That was too much for her to assimilate. "You're saying this because you do not accept the idea of ​​Arthur being my friend! All that matters to you is status, but it doesn't matter to me! When are you going to let me live my own life?"

"This is not about social classes, this man is a pervert! I'm trying to protect you!"

"Enough, Misty!" That was enough to make the redhead shut up and Y/N found her way back to the mirror.

To complete the look, inside the blue box was a beautiful diamond ring and a pair of shiny round diamond earrings, just waiting for her. Putting on the ring was an easy task, but she couldn’t say the same about earrings; her hands were shaking and this is all the fault of the stress.

"Let me help you." The manager approached and at first Y/N refused her help, but after another failed attempt, she handed the earrings to the woman. "I know I can be a bitch sometimes..."

"Sometimes?"

Misty just sighed, shaking her head.

~~~~~~~▪~~~~~~~~~▪~~~~~~~~~▪~~~~~~~~~~

a/n – likes and reblogs are appreciated but honestly I’d love to know what you all think of this one. really hope you enjoy it and thank you soooo much for reading ♡

[dearmantis]

Blood on your hands

Pairing: Pietro x Reader

Summary: Westview was your home, but the nightmares you have every night tell a different story. When hallucinations start to take over your day to day life a around the same time Wanda introduced you to her brother Pietro, one of your best friends tries to help. 

Help herself, not you. 

! Part two of Old wounds ripped open, can be read on it’s own though ! 

Warnings: spoilers for episode 7 of WandaVision(?), mentions of death and blood, angst, nightmares, a bit of survivors guilt, horror (if you squint a bit), hallucinations, some weird/ creepy stuff involving a corpse (not Vision and not sexual, it’s just weird and a bit sad)

Word Count: 3.2k

Author's Note: Blood on your hands is less focused on Pietro and instead centered more around the Reader and their experiences after the events of Old wounds ripped open. It does involve Pietro again though, don't worry.

Also, some parts of this seemingly got mixed up for some reason so if some passages make no sense and feel out of place that's why. I've been trying to fit it but I mightve overlooked some parts so please tell me!

You had weird dreams since your first day in Westview, your head filled with blurry scenes, blues and whites bleeding into each other as calm voices spoke to you, warm hands caressing your skin, creating scenarios that made no sense but felt familiar enough, like they had had happened once, in a world, a life, vastly different from the one you lived in now.

It would’ve been quite beautiful if they weren’t accompanied by a deep feeling of melancholy, sadness seeping into your body and clinging onto your bones every night, the pictures becoming clearer and the feelings stronger with every passing day. 

The night a day before you met Pietro, Wanda's twin brother you don’t remember ever hearing about even though you had been best friends with Wanda since you were 4, the dreams changed.

Suddenly, the sorrow and heartache transformed into fear, cold sweat clinging on your skin every time the panic got strong enough to rip you out of your sleep and you woke up, drenched and shaking.

There was no comfort in the emotions that overtook you during those dreams, no warmth in the sorrow that seemed to fill you up like water, drowning out everything else.

Just this overwhelming sense of terror and grief, slowly choking the air out of your lungs and turning your muscles weak.

You thought about talking with Wanda about what you saw and heard in your dreams, about the gunshots, the screams, the blood, but something held you back. As soon as the idea came up in your mind you knew that this was not an option, no questions, no but’s.

You just knew.

However, as the days went on, the dreams became worse.

People turning to dust, Wanda crying and screaming, a man dying, burns all over his body, a stone being ripped out of the forehead of a strange man, his body falling dead on the ground… and a man with white hair being shot and killed.

All you were able to do was watch, unable to prevent what was happening.

In those dreams you could heal, your hands glowing in a warm golden light, heat burning in your fingertips, but no matter what you did, people continued to turn into dust, the burns stayed, the stone was still gone and you were always too far away to save the man, distancing yourself further every second no matter how hard you fought to get closer to him.

You felt useless, helpless, undeserving. 

The fear of Wanda finding out about your nightmares grew steadily with every dream, the outside signs of your sleepless nights becoming more and more obvious, but no matter what tricks and tips you tried, not a single night was slept through calmly.

It didn’t help that the scenarios all held the same familiar feeling the ones before the meeting with Pietro did. Melancholy and pain now ruling hand in hand over what was once supposed to help you relax and restore your energy for the next day.

You started hallucinating after 2 days. Vision was always gone or with Wanda and something about Pietro's company made you feel uncomfortable, so you started to spend your time more by yourself, now really regretting that you didn’t get a dog when the idea first came up.

It began with randomly seeing people on the street turning to dust.

The first time it happened you felt like you were going to turn to dust as well, your heartbeat loudly hammering in your ears as you ran out of the house screaming, trying to help and save your poor neighbors from certain doom. It happened two more times before you realized that your mind was playing tricks on you,, too exhausted to work like it was supposed to.

Halloween night was the worst.

Knowing that you wouldn’t be able to actually rest, you decided to spend the night on the couch, watching any kids show or movie you could find, until you slipped back into unconsciousness at around 11 pm during a scooby doo marathon.

Wanda had invited you to come along with her, the twins and the boys since both Vision and Agnes would be busy that day but you refused, claiming that you felt sick and wanted to spend the night in your bed sleeping and watching TV. The young mother had looked you up and down, pity in her watchful eyes, before she took your hand, squeezed it, and told you to call in case anything happened and you needed help. You had nodded, thanking Wanda and promising her to come over as soon as you felt better.

The reason why Halloween was the worst was because the dream you had was different once again, this time for seemingly no reason at all.

Wanda was currently being dragged away from a body, the body of the man you had seen before in previous dreams. The one who got shot while you were in the air, unable to get closer to him no matter how hard you tried. Her hysterical screaming was the only thing you could hear, sokovian insults directed towards those dragging her away, someone named Ultron, and you.

You were on what you recognized to be a helicarrier, even though you don’t remember ever having seen one or heard of one, the word unfamiliar and familiar at the same time.

Wanda stared at you as you slowly approached the body, still being held back but now silent like everyone else around you, all of their eyes focused on you and you alone.

An empty feeling had started to fill your mind since the helicopter had landed, not a single emotion or thought racing through your head when you lifted your hands, a warm golden glow engulfing them, and placed them on the man's chest.

The wounds healed, golden threads filling the wounds before turning into normal human tissue, but his heart stayed still, no matter what you did.

“This is your fault too. You promised you would be there! You promised you would keep him safe, you disgusting liar. I tried to defend you so many times but HYDRA and Ultron were right. You’re useless.”, Wanda uttered, her eyes wild and glowing in a deep shade of red, her hands called to fists.

Your powers got stronger and stronger, now able to rebuild entire missing limbs like you had done just a few minutes ago to save an old man instead of only healing small cuts like during your first weeks with HYDRA, but death was still irreversible to you.

A part of you simply accepting what she had said as the truth.

You should’ve been there. You directly disobeyed orders. This is your fault too. There was no denying of these simple facts.

Another part of you however, the part of you that was trained by Hydra and followed Ultron, filled with toxic thoughts and jealousy because Wanda was stronger than you, got more attention than you, was more important than you overall, saw a chance to strike.

“You knew that he was still getting used to his powers, Wanda. And you knew that he was already getting exhausted, making him slower. It was your job to protect him too. After all, you’re the one who can rip through those robots like nothing. I’m just a useless healer.”

Both of you would regret these words years later, Wanda sitting in her room only two months later, hysterically sobbing and shaking like a leaf, none of the other Avengers being able to do anything other than calling you, begging you to take a break from helping with the rebuilding of Sokovia because something was wrong with Wanda and no one knew what to do. When you arrived you laid in each other's arms, trying to calm each other down, talking about how much you missed each other and what happened during and after Pietro's death.

Oh, something was definitely wrong.

A loud knocking on your door was what ripped you out of your sleep, quickly jogging to it, thinking it must be Wanda trying to check on you. Instead, Agnes was standing in front of you, a sweet smile on her lips.

How Wanda saw his dead body everywhere, and how you couldn’t touch wet things anymore or wash your hands with cold water because it kept reminding you of his blood soaked shirt and the way your hands were covered in his cold blood, the red liquid dripping from them until it dried to a dark brown layer.

“Hey Y/N,”, she greeted, moving past you to get into your house. “Wanda told me about you feeling a bit sick so I came over to check on you. You’re my friend too, afterall. I wanna make sure you’re doing alright.”

Slowly your eyes moved down, landing on your hands. 

Agnes was already waiting for you in the kitchen, preparing two cups of tea like this was her house, shooing you back into the living room while loudly talking about how important it was for her to take care of her close friends. You were about to sit back down on the couch when you finally heard it.

Dripping. Something was dripping.

Red.

Turning, your eyes followed the path you had walked as well as you could, moving from the couch, small red drops leading to the door with its now blood covered doorknob, to the kitchen, and then back to the couch.

You silently watched her from the door, your mind still half stuck in the dream you had, trying to understand what was happening when the door slipped out of your grasp, closing on its own. 

“Oh Y/N, I didn’t send you into the living room for you to just stand here and stare into nothingness. Sit down, sweetheart. The tea is nearly done, just give it another minute.”, Agnes suddenly said, setting two cups and a small bowl down on the living room table before pushing you down onto the couch and turning the sound of the TV lower.  She quickly sat down next to you, covering you and herself with the blanket that had fallen to the floor while you had slept. 

“So, darling, tell me about how you’re feeling. Wanda seemed awfully worried about you. She kept babbling about not knowing what was wrong with you, a true sweetheart, isn’t she?”, Agnes laughed, patting your knee before carefully pulling the tea bags out of the cups.

You knew it had to be a hallucination, the man's blood on your hands coming out of the dream you had, just like the people turning to dust, but it looked so real, the feeling eerily familiar to you.

With a big grin on her lips, she gave you one of them, taking a big sip of it while watching you do the same thing from your own cup. 

You were nearly finished with your tea when you noticed that you hadn’t told Agnes or Wanda about what was wrong with you. the cup covered in blood when you sat it down, the liquid on your hands seemingly unending and refusing to dry like it had in your dream.

For a while you sat there, together, watching scoobie doo while drinking tea, talking about the boring ads or about your time in Westview. 

“Agnes, why aren’t you with Wanda and the twins right now?”, you asked, your voice not louder than a whisper, somehow aware that asking about her knowledge about the nightmares wouldn’t end well for you. 

“Like I told you, I wanted to make sure you’re alright and don’t feel too lonely. Now finish your cup of tea so I can leave knowing that you’ll sleep well tonight. I even put out a big bowl of candy on your porch to make sure no one will ring the door to wake you up tonight.”

If that was all it took for her to go, you would obey, you thought to yourself, downing the rest of the bitter tasting tea in one go before standing up.

With every passing second, Agnes company seemed to make you more and more unconfortable, her aura more dominant than usual. You needed her out of your house. Now. 

Agnes smiled at you, took the cups and stood up to go to the kitchen. “Not before I washed these, sweetheart. Then I’ll leave you alone to sleep. Wanda will be fine for another few minutes.”

“Come on, Agnes. I bet Wanda already misses you greatly. You should meet them before the twins go to bed.”, you exclaimed, lifting the blanket from her body and folding it.

A sigh escaped your lips as you walked to the door, suddenly stopping when your eyes jumped to the middle of the hallway.

You were frozen in place, unable to move even when Agnes came out of the kitchen.

She dried her hands with one of your towels before carelessly dropping it on the floor, grinning at you before leaving with the words “Have fun tonight, Y/N. I know you missed him so much.”

When the door fell into its lock, you dropped to your knees, hands shaking and legs weak like pudding.

Pietro.

Pietro, Pietro, Pietro, Pietro, Pietro Pietro.

Here.

On your floor.

You didn’t know how long you sat on the floor, staring at that body, just that you still hadn’t moved when the sun started to rise again, your eyes glued to the corpse while you tried to sort through your newly gained memories.

Dead.

Of course your immediate thought had been to blame Wanda. She was the only person you knew who had the power to take away memories and manipulate your thoughts and feelings and she had a motive.

She was your best friend. Your best friend since kindergarten and the only one who knew about your crush on her twin. Memories from inside Westview also came to mind, from when you woke up in Wanda's kitchen after she introduced you to Pietro for the first time, a day before the introduction you actually remember, your memory coming back after “Pietro” had introduced himself to you.

Wanda had tried to explain her decision to bring you to Westview. Reasoned that you were still so depressed and she just wanted you to feel happy, to get the fairy tale ending she thought you deserved, even if it had to be without Pietro.

Wanda, who probably controlled everyone in Westview, including Agnes who had just talked about missing a man while you stared at the hallucination of his corpse in your hallway. 

And she would never be cruel enough to you to give you the nightmares and hallucinations you had now. 

There was no way Wanda had possessed Agnes to do this to you. 

But she had also claimed not to know where the other “Pietro” came from.

As soon as the realization hit, you stumbled to your feet, the world turning as you ran out of your house, pushing past people as you tried to get to Wanda’s house as quickly as possible. She, Vision, the twins… everyone could be in danger.

This wasn’t Wanda. 

If a dead robot and two probably imagined or possessed kids can even be in danger...

You didn’t bother to knock, simply storming into the house, screaming for your best friend.

She immediately reached out to touch you, giving you another once over with her eyes.

“What is going on?”, she responded, a confused look on her face as she came out of the kitchen, panic visible in her eyes as soon as she saw you. “Why are you covered in blood? What happened last night?”

“It’s Pietro’s blood, not mine.”, you said quickly, like that explained anything.

“What blood? Hell, Y/N, you look like you died twice. And what’s this about Pietro’s blood? Do you mean that impos-”

Her eyes began to glow red and you knew she was searching through your mind, trying to make sense of your words.

“You knew it wouldn’t hold for long. Me and Pietro were never as affected by your powers as others were.”, you whispered, trying to answer the unasked question that was hovering in the room.

“Not that Pietro. I mean our Pietro. The one who died in Sokovia in 2015. The one I loved… love. The one I love. It’s his blood.”

“I didn’t give you the nightmares or the hallucinations. I didn’t do that. That wasn’t me. I made sure to keep them as far away from you as I could.”, Wanda insisted, probably more to calm herself down than to prove something to you since you also didn’t think of her as capable of that cruelty.

Her eyes lost their glow but she continued to watch you before quietly saying “Go upstairs. Vision is away and the Twins are with Agnes today. Sleep, I’ll make sure you won’t have nightmares. The hallucinations wont stop if you don’t sleep. You’ll keep seeing the blood on your hands and the corpse on the floor.”

You nodded, walking up the stairs like she had told you before entering the bedroom, only pausing for a second when you saw Pietro’s corpse laying on the right side of the bed before laying down next to it.

“I know Wanda, I know. But someone else did, and I want to find out who without being under the control of someone else. I can’t help when you do that. I can’t use my powers if I don’t remember that I have them.”

Slowly, you reached out to lay your hand on his chest, the glow of your powers only slightly dimmed by the blood. If you closed the wounds maybe you would be able to pretend this was simply a happy dream. A happy dream of a life you could’ve had if you had listened to Steve's orders to stay on the ground with Hawkeye to heal civilians, or if you had simply been less of a coward and told Pietro about your feelings before that last fatal battle.

Like seeing his dead body in your hallway and being covered in his blood wasn’t already traumatizing enough, your mind had to one-up itself once again.

If, if, if.

Always those stupid useless if’s.

You carefully covered the body of the now healed hallucinated corpse with the blanket before getting more comfortable yourself and closing your eyes.

You had completely forgotten to tell Wanda about your suspicions concerning Agnes.

[rayshippouuchiha]

The James Joyce Murder, chapter 1

"Kate," Reed said, disentangling his long legs from the small car, "what on earth are you doing here? If you had decided to embrace the rural life, you might, in decency, have let me know. It's a great shock to return from Europe and find you established on some deserted hilltop in the Berkshires. What is the matter with that cow?"

Before Kate could answer, a red cat tore around the corner of the house with a brown dog in hot pursuit. "More of the local fauna," Kate said, in what she hoped were conciliatory tones. "Come inside and tell me all about the News Scotland Yard. The cow is bellowing for her calf."

"Has she lost it?"

"It was taken away from her; she'll forget it in a day or two. How was England?"

——————————

Reed was proceeding toward the fireplace in a decorous manner when, from a nearby stairway he had not noticed, there burst as though catapulted into their midst a smallish boy. Reed pondered the possibilities of catapulting him back, and reluctantly dismissed them.

——————————

.... "O.K., I'll get William," the boy returned, departing with an alacrity that suggested an unwillingness to dwell upon the subject of today's essay.

[He hasn't done his essay. – Anon.]

——————————

"... For God's sake, sit down and explain. I return from only six months in England to find you transformed, transported and transfigured."

"You just added the last one to make the series come out right."

"I certainly never expected to see you living in the same house with a small boy. What ages are Emmett and William?" Reed asked, as though suddenly struck with the awful thought that Kate had the undertaken the housing of small boys in large numbers.

"In their middle or late twenties, I suppose. William is tutoring Leo, he of the various deaths, and Emmett is going over some papers for me for me. The cat belongs to Emmett, and the dog belongs to the gardener, whose name is not James Joyce but Mr. Pasquale. The cow belongs to the farmer down the road who uses our land. Leo is my nephew. Cheers."

——————————

"Kate," interrupted a young man from the doorway. "If that woman is permitted entrance into this house, I shall have to tender my resignation. Reluctantly, to be sure, since the collection is a fascinating one. There's a letter – But I cannot have that woman hanging over me as though I were a pie and some extravagantly exciting news about you were the plum that she was in hopes of pulling forth."

"Emmett, you must realize that country people are incurably curious, like cats. It's only urbanites who can ignore their neighbors. Tell Mrs, Bradford Leo is my illegitimate child, that I murdered his father, and that I'm setting up a polyandrous colony here in the hope of starting a new religion. That ought to keep her quiet for a while."

"The only thing that would keep that woman quiet is a bullet in the brain, and even then I think her lips would ta go on moving out of share force of habit."

——————————

[After having lunch and telling Reed about she came to stay temporarily in the house, breaching the subject of Kate having custody of Leo]

"Kate," Reid said, "you are the most maddening woman I have ever met. I can't imagine, for example, why I, would who could be happily resting in an air conditioned apartment in New York, should be walking along a country road with you, being devoured by mosquitoes and uncomfortably aware, from the tickling in my nose, that I am about to begin a prolonged attack of hay fever. .... How did you end up with Leo, for God's holy sake?"

"He ran away and came to me. It became quite clear that everyone was trying so hard to understand him that he belonged to be in the company of someone who didn't understand him and wouldn't even try. I sent him back home, of course, but I promised he might spend the summer with me. My brother, with the mulishness that marks all simple-minded people, was outraged that Leo would have run away to me. Anyhow, that's how the 'boarding house' came so overwhelmingly into existence."

okay yeah this looks entertaining as fuck

[sweeethinny]

The Duke - Chapter 10

A.N: OK, let's go Thank you very much to the comments, really, I know it takes time, but I'm glad you're here always waiting for a new chapter for your understanding: everything in *ITALIC* is flashback, it's a chapter basically made up of that, it explains some things it was the chapter i waited the longest to arrive, i liked it in the end, i hope you did too <3 AO3 | FF.NET | SIYE

It was a cold night, it had rained that afternoon and the sky was cloudy, it looked like it would rain later in the morning, but Arabella was happy about that, as the damp, muggy weather made her sneeze every minute and her asthma was actually getting worse. She should visit a doctor soon. She continued to walk down the empty street, the hem of her dress was getting more and more muddy, no matter how much she pulled her skirt up a little, every time she stepped into a puddle the mud splashed and it was no use effort in trying to get that dress clean. She should have picked an older one to go out with, since she knew the streets would be dreadful after all that rain, not the brand new one she'd bought after working so hard. Was it just a piece of sewn fabric, why was it so expensive? There weren't even enough details or buttons to justify it. But if Isabel was telling the truth, the fabric had come from India, and that in itself had already increased the price twice as much, and Arabella knew that the woman would not lie to her… She hoped at least. As she walked the streets of Godric's Hollow, she thought about how another lonely night would be, and that maybe tomorrow she would send a letter to her great-aunt asking if she could stay a few days at her farm, just to have the company of other people besides the two her cats; Silk and Melindra. “Help!” The scream echoed behind her, and Arabella turned, startled, to see if anyone was hurt or what might have triggered that scream. It was a female scream, and it made her think that maybe a woman could be chased by some maniac, and even though she wasn't very strong, two women fought better than just one, so she ran towards the scream, not caring more about the mud splashing on her dress. Near Ms. Bright’s shop, there was a woman lying down and bleeding, her clothes torn and a baby in her lap. She looked scared, dumped near a ditch that had been made a few days ago to start building a fashion studio around the corner, the scant dress that still covered her was smeared with what looked like blood and mud, and Arabella thought she saw blood running down her legs. Whether it was an injury or something more disturbing, she couldn't tell. The woman held the baby tightly to her chest, wrapped in an old blanket as dirty as she was, and the poor child spared no effort in crying, looking more than scared. “I'm here, what happened?” Arabella ran to her, helping the poor girl to her seat, noticing that the poor baby was also smeared with blood, but she couldn't tell whose blood it was. ‘Come, come to my house, I can help you-’ "No," she cried, brown eyes startled and wide, as if they'd seen death a few feet away. “Someone is following me, I – I'm going to be killed, I know I will, my husband is after me and – you need to get the boy.” She lifted the baby towards Arabella. 'He's trying to kill us, he thinks the child isn't his, he thinks I cheated on him, and he's coming, I-' The woman stopped, as if she'd heard something, but then thunder made the Earth shudder. ‘Please save the boy, I beg you, he already tried to kill the boy but I was always on time, but now I feel like I won't be able to save him.’ “You must come with me.” Arabella pleaded once more, kneeling in front of the woman, trying to get her to rise. When she reached for her forearm, however, her hand was wet with blood, and the tear in the side of her dress let her see a hideous cut in her ribs, the blood running like water in a waterfall, dripping onto the floor and other parts of her dress. "I told you," she muttered, sobbing. 'I'm going to die, I'm not going to make it, I can't stand walking any longer, I managed to run away from him but I can't stand it much longer… Take the boy.' The woman lifted the boy again, who now seemed to cry even more, waking a few neighborhood dogs, as the sky glowed brighter, the earth trembling a few seconds later. "Take him away, don't let him die." 'How-how am I going to leave you here, I can't-' Another thunder shook the earth, and this time, the storm began to fall stronger

than the afternoon, the winds suddenly getting strong, which seemed to scare the boy even more. ‘He will get sick! Get him, take care of him!” As if on instinct, Arabella scooped him up in her arms, wrapping him in her scarf so he was a little warmer. Footsteps were heard nearby, and the woman seemed to despair even more. 'Go! Get Harry and go!’ “What's his name?” Arabella yelled over the noise of the rain, trying to understand what she had said. ‘Henry! His name is Henry!’ ---------------------- “Poor Duchess,” someone says, but all Arabella can see is the white flag atop the castle, an immense sadness shattering her chest into a million pieces. "Who could do something that horrible?" Another says, all paying attention to the newspaper that reports how Harry Potter, the Duke's eldest son, was found dead near a creek not far away. Probably killed by Death Eaters. “They're all nasty human beings!” A man said, looking horrified by the media descriptions, then looking up at the castle again. It's not that far away, it faces the mountains that end Godric's Hollow, separating them from another village, and it's positioned in a way that's seen from anywhere, no matter where you are, you'll see the castle and the huge towers, next to the flags that stand proudly on the masts. One with the English flag, the other with the Potter family crest. But today, both give way to white flags. The boy is dead. Arabella wipes the tears from her eyes and watches little Henry sleep in her arms, oblivious to the commotion. She sympathizes with the Duchess's pain as she looks at that little baby who nearly died along with her mother - Arabella knew that the woman's body was found lifeless the next morning - and remembers the time she too felt the pain of losing a child, of losing the one she loved most to Death Eaters. She kisses the boy's forehead, the pale scar of lightning makes him unique, and Arabella lets herself cry, thinking of the Duchess herself, and how they took away her right to fondle her own son. ---------------------- Arabella did not remember seeing the Duke in public since the incident two years ago. He smiles and nods, but she notices - because she's been there once too - that he's sick, that the gold-and-red scarf around his neck seems to have a lot of fabric left over, as well as his pants. She notices the dark circles under his eyes, and the sunken cheeks, but the man still smiles and waves at people. Henry was on her lap, yesterday he turned two, and Arabella doesn't know very well when he was born, but her neighbor, who is a doctor, said he wasn't much older than four or five months, so she decided that his birthday would be the day before they met, because she thought it was too tragic to celebrate the day she found him in his mother's lap half dead, but she didn't want to stray too far from the date. The Duke smiles and nods to a little girl on his father's shoulders, he is walking through the village as he usually does, something that brings him closer to the people who live there and keeps him in power. He's a good man, after his father, the best they've ever had for sure. He stops when he gets close to Arabella, and she smiles because she used to paint the portraits of the royal family until she had a problem with her fist and was forced to quit her profession, but the man never seems to forget the time she drew him on his 17th birthday. "I'm still waiting for you to draw me and my wife." He says, as he always has since she informed him that she had unfortunately been forced to stop. The man isn't charging her though, he smiles, and watches Henry in her lap, almost sleeping on her shoulder. “It's a beautiful boy.” She thought she saw a shadow in his eyes, but it was so fast she thought it was just her imagination. 'How old is he?' "Two years," she says, and now she's sure the man looks sick, because for a second he stops and stares at Henry, as if wondering what his two-year-old son would be like. Arabella knows because she used to do this. "My condolences, my Lord." "It's okay, I’m fine," the

man says, and he winks at Henry, who hides in his mother's neck, before going off to talk to another woman. ---------------------- “Why are we different?” Henry asks, sitting on the table as Arabella tends to his scraped knee. 'We don't have the same eye color, and my hair doesn't match yours.' She knows he doesn't mean to be mean, he's just a curious and very intelligent child, that he's noticed the dissimilarities between them. She smiles, applying ointment to the wound. ‘Because you are my son at heart, and children at heart are sometimes not like their mothers at heart.’ 'What is a child at heart?' He agrees to be picked up by her, and Arabella leads them into their small living room, sitting on the sofa with Henry on her lap, looking at her with big green eyes gleaming with curiosity, black strands falling over his eyelashes. She needs to cut his hair soon. “It means that you were born from another belly, not mine.” She places a hand over her stomach. “But that's just what separates us, because my love for you surpasses any barrier.” Arabella smiles, kissing his cheek, and Henry seems satisfied with the explanation. 'I love you so much too, this size here!' He opens his arms as much as he can, and the demonstration warms her heart as always, making her smile and hug her son as tightly as she assures him that she loves him even more. | J. P | James was concentrating on the duels when Remus arrived. He was marveling at how well Mr. Figg dueled, neither shivering nor losing time when Mr. Rosier hit back one of his spells, and the man didn't even look tired. He had always found dueling an incredibly boring and dull part of parties when he was younger, accompanied by his father and seeing the men fall in a few minutes, James preferred the parties and the after, when the house was silent and dark and he could go out to meet some woman. It was at one of these parties that he met Lily, during a nighttime getaway he saw her jumping out the window. First he followed her thinking that she was also going to meet someone, and James being a curious young man that he was, he wondered what kind of man that woman liked to sneak with. Maybe he had a chance. But later, when he saw her come out of the house and run towards the lake nearby, James didn't understand. She didn't like him following her, of course, it had been a dumb idea and nowadays he was ashamed of his younger self's actions, but that's what got them talking for the first time. She smiled in embarrassment as he praised her ability to climb a vine. "James!" Remus called after him, cheeks flushed and blue eyes pained toward him. The first thing that came to his mind was that Lily was hurt, and that made him lose all interest in watching the Duel and made him turn to his friend in alarm. “What happened?” He tried to be as discreet as possible, trying to keep other men from noticing his splurge. Sirius did a good job of distracting two young men. "Lily needs you…and she asked me to take Mr. Figg too." Remus muttered the last part, making James frown and look at the boy on his left, who had finally won the duel. Rosier looked tired. 'Is it urgent.' "Is she hurt?" It was a valid concern, James feared his wife would get sicker now that she was surrounded by people, and maybe someone had said something to her and Lily had one of her fits again. ‘And why does she want the boy? Should I tell Arthur? ‘No, don't say anything to anyone, just come… We're in the dungeons.’ ---------------------- Henry did not know how to control his magic, and that distressed Arabella. If he was a Muggle it would be so much easier, she knew that, because when Henry made that poor boy float, and then made a flower vase explode, she knew she would have to explain a lot to him: Why couldn't he go to a proper college and why she didn't do magic like he did. Arabella no longer felt ashamed of being a Squib, she had accepted the condition and lived normally, or at least as she managed to, avoiding whenever anyone asked about it just to avoid people's prejudice. Some thought she was a

Muggle who had married a wizard, and that's why she knew so much about it. Others thought that she just hadn't had a chance to go to school, and that's why she didn't know how to properly control magic. "They made fun of me!" Henry said, annoyed, his eyes red from crying. “They said things—horrible things to me!” He sobbed, which made Arabella even sadder and more worried. His green eyes glistened with tears, staring at her for answers. "They told me I-I'll never be good at-at anything." He sobbed louder and louder, the scraped knee now forgotten, as if the internal pain was much bigger. She was about to cry with him. “Henry, honey, listen to me.” She took a deep breath, thinking that conversation had come earlier than she'd planned. ‘What they said is a lie. They don't know how to control their magic either, they probably won't for a good few years, and you're already good at a lot of things, of course you are, Henry. You're much better at putting together puzzles, and you're much faster too, I mean, you always win at the races.' Arabella smiled sweetly, smoothing his messy hair, thinking how unfair it was that such a sweet little boy already got to know this side of life. She wished she could just show the good side of life, and leave the thorns and stones for when he understood things better. Arabella wondered how her mother managed to do this so masterfully, because right now, she wanted to be able to hex the parents of those boys and force them to teach their children more respect for others. She wished it had been her who had been pushed and thrown out of the game, not her child. Her heart broke even more, feeling helpless. ‘Don't listen to what they say, ok? You're amazing, a very smart kid, and your future will be bright.” She promised, because it was true. Arabella would do anything for her son. ---------------------- Henry ran as fast as he could, passing through the trees and not even bothering with the branches that scratched his skin, he just needed to get out of there. He knew he shouldn't have pissed off those boys, but they were scaring another younger boy, and just because they'd now gone to that stupid school of stupid people, they thought they were even better than the rest of the people there. Henry wished he could go to Hogwarts, but his mother had told him that you needed to receive a letter, and that they were only sent for a few families - maybe if you're lucky you get the letter, she said smiling, even though the smile didn't reach her eyes. Arabella had never said this, but Henry knew he would probably never get the letter; he wasn't rich and he didn't have a father, and for some reason, that seemed to be enough to keep him away from others. He ran even faster when he heard loud laughter, he wasn't afraid of those kids anymore, Henry had grown up while they were in school, more than they were, but they had one advantage: magic. Arabella couldn't buy a wand, so he didn't have one, and even if he did, he wouldn't know how to use it. “You're a wimpy coward if your only way to fight is with magic…don't you know how to punch?” Henry had said to Jilian, the biggest idiot of them all. Henry wasn't very good at punching, but he was very fast, while when Greg tried to cast a spell on him, he ran off into the forest, barely noticing when his own magic created a dome around him, preventing any spells from hitting him. . ---------------------- “Why are we so different?” Henry asked, taking a seat beside Arabella as she kneaded the bread on the table. She looked at him, noticing that the boy was all sweaty and looking a little smudged with dirt. “How many times have I told you not to go into the woods?” She returned her gaze to the dough, continuing to knead. "It's quieter there." He shrugged, pulling his sweaty hair off his forehead, letting his scar show for a few seconds before hiding it again. “And more dangerous too, and you know it.” Arabella raised her eyebrows, scolding him. She'd heard horrible stories of people meeting a werewolf deep in the woods, and as much as she didn't

know whether or not it was true, she didn't want Henry to take any chances like that. He was only 13 years old, he should have been playing with the other kids on the street and not running into the trees. "Okay, I won't do it anymore." He sighed, but she knew he would break that promise the next time he had the opportunity. ‘But then? Why aren't we alike?’ "Henry, because you were born from another belly. I already said that" She placed the buns in the oven, washing her hands afterwards and looking up at him with a gentle smile on her face. "I met you when you were very young, you know this story." "But why can I make things float and you can't?" His green eyes stared at her with an expression much harder and more serious than she was used to, as if he would know if she lied. ‘Because not all of us are born doing magic. Some of us are good at something other than magic… It's something you need to be born knowing how to do, you can't develop it, just improve it.” Arabella swallowed, trying not to show so much the scars that had left on her. People weren't kind when they found out you were a Squib. He was quiet for a few minutes, looking at his hands as if he wanted to find the right words. The sun streaming through the kitchen windows illuminated his black hair, a few strands reflecting an almost red copper color that Arabella thought was beautiful. 'Can you never do magic?' He looked at her, and all the worry she'd ever felt, scared that maybe Henry would feel sorry for her or ashamed of her, drained and slipped out as his green eyes stared at her, full of affection and sadness. Not the same sadness that always came with grief, but as if he felt bad that he did magic and she didn't, as if he understood now why some people offended her and treated her differently. "No." She gave a half smile. "But I'm not sad about it anymore, I like who I am." And it was true. Henry nodded, still being silent for a while, seeming to absorb the information, then he got up from the wooden bench, walking over to her and hugging her. He was no longer her little boy—as much as he always would be her baby—Henry now almost reached her chest, and it wouldn't be long before he was taller than her. She hugged him back, enjoying this show of affection, imagining that a few years from now he wouldn't like hugs so much. "I love you," he said. ‘I love you very much too. Forever and ever.” Arabella kissed the top of his head, tightening her hold even more, as if she was afraid someone would suddenly take him away from her. ---------------------- It had been a long time since James had been in the dungeons, he didn't like going there, it was cold, wet, lonely, and it made him think too much. It made him think his son's things were there, in boxes organized as if they were just another mess and not everything he and Lily had ever dreamed of. It made him think of the pain that resided in his chest, the emptiness that nothing in the world had ever been able to fill. James hated the dungeons. Lily, unlike him, loved being there, she said it was the best place for her to think, and the calmest of all - 'It's where I feel that no one will look at me with pity, where I can think of my son in peace, you know what I'm talking about," she said when James questioned her about the surroundings. He knew, he understood her, James had changed into Prongs many more times than necessary, he did it every time the pain got too much to take. He walked down the stairs, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down his spine, couldn't anyone make this place something less scary? After Remus left, James warned Sirius, who tried to pretend as best he could and further entertain the men who now looked curious to death, while he went to talk to Mr. Figg. "I need you to accompany me, but I need you to do this cautiously and discreetly," James asked, looking into those green eyes closely, trying to remember where he knew that expression. "I'll go ahead, meet me in five minutes at the entrance to the stone path, do you know where it is?" The man nodded, tucking

his wand into the waistband of his pants and straightening his robes. 'I'll let Arthur know I'll take you, just so he won't be worried, but I think you understand that you shouldn't say anything to anyone, right?' "Yes, my Lord." The man made a brief, discreet bow, and James grimaced, not understanding why that made him uncomfortable. Now James heard footsteps behind him as he walked through the dungeon, neither of them saying anything. Why had Lily asked Mr. Figg to come along? Had she found out something about the boy? Something bad? James glanced quickly over his shoulder, noticing that the man looked warmed too, his hands behind him and his back straight. Has something happened to Miss Weasley? Well, if so, Arthur would be called too, right? James broke off as soon as he reached the last room, the one he avoided the most, and the only one with lighted candles. The first thing he saw when he entered were the boxes, stacked against a wall, then he realized there were some of Harry's things on the floor, smeared with dirt and sticks, and James' heart missed a beat when he saw the Snitch Pajamas The gold one he'd bought when he found out Lily was pregnant was now all filthy and torn. Had they been attacked? Was that why Lily sent for him? Then he saw Remus, opening Lily's herb cabinet and looking for something inside, he looked worried. In the back, near the only window there, was Peter, all smeared with mud too, sitting on the floor with his hands behind his back, his red cheeks making him look like a child caught doing something wrong, and his rumpled clothes hinting that he had fought someone. Finally, sitting on the bench was Lily. Her dress was dirty too, but that wasn't what James first noticed, it was her red face, her pink cheeks like when she drank wine, her hands shaking as she poured something into the cauldron, looking more nervous than ever. "What's going on?" James glanced at the three of them, feeling even more anxious. "Lily, what the fuck is going on?" "Did you bring Henry?" James frowned at her calling the man by his first name, but nodded anyway, Peter sighed in the corner, looking almost terrified, not making eye contact with James for a moment. ‘Great, send him in.’ ---------------------- Henry knew he shouldn't be there, his mother had forbidden him, but he had nowhere else to go. Jilian had come back from his stupid school and he seemed more than happy to train some spells on Henry, and even though he had honed his punching technique, he couldn't compete with magic. So he ran into the forest. It was cold there, it had rained last night and the earth had turned to mud, and because of the tall trees the sun's rays didn't penetrate as much, and the whole environment ended up getting wetter than usual. Henry shivered as the wind made him wonder why he hadn't grabbed a jacket. He was sitting on the usual rock, it was close to the river that separated them from the Muggles, and it gave him a good view across the village. There were houses like the ones on this side, but they always looked a lot less colorful than the ones he was used to, and there weren't as many flowers and trees either, as if the Muggles were willing to clear every bit of land they found, leaving everything gray and monotonous. Henry had asked his mother if they could go to that side of the village, but Arabella had been stern to say he was forbidden to even think about going to the Muggles. He chuckled softly, thinking that if it hadn't been for the river that separated them, he probably would have managed to at least get there, curious as always. A noise startled him, making him jump and hide behind the rock, praying it wasn't one of Jilian's friends, as he would be at such a disadvantage. There wasn't much to run now, Henry had almost reached the end of the forest, and unless he took a chance and ran towards the darkest and scariest part, the other option was to jump into the river. And he wasn't doing any of those things. But when he didn't hear voices or anything to indicate they were people, he stood up,

watching a deer walking around, distracted by everything, as if nothing else mattered. Henry had never seen one this close, and he was a little fascinated by the animal, he understood why there are two deer on the Potter family crest. It really was a beautiful animal, and if he could choose, he would also want them emblazoned on his chest. Henry stepped out from behind the rock, careful not to startle the animal, trying to get as close as he could. “Hey,” he called, even though it didn't make much sense. The animal turned, eyes huge now in his direction. It had been a bad idea, he cursed himself mentally, imagining that that animal was too big and would probably kill him without a second thought… Did deer eat human flesh? Henry didn't know, but they probably hurt anyone who scared them and made them feel in danger. The animal approached, slowly, and each step made the boy's stomach turn and his heart race. Deer were fast, much faster than Henry was. He was dead. But when the animal's black eyes got much closer than Henry had ever thought he saw, the animal bowed, as if saying hello to him. Without thinking twice, he did the same, maintaining eye contact with the deer. Heavens, couldn't he be less weird? Bending over to deer, blowing things up without meaning to... Henry stood up after a while, being careful to do this as slowly as possible, still afraid the deer would decide to kill him then and there. But the animal seemed to have other plans, because he lay down in front of the boy, as if he were an adorable little dog. Henry sat beside him too, having no choice; he didn't have many friends, and he had nothing else to do, so why not? His ass got a little wet from the dirt, but nothing too uncomfortable. The deer shifted and brought its head closer to Henry's crossed leg, as if asking for affection, and the boy didn't wait for another move to do so, leaning his back against the stone and reaching out to stroke the slightly coarse fur of the animal For some strange reason, Henry felt comfortable doing it, as if he had done it before, it was something familiar that burned in his chest. But he didn't think about it much, just fell silent and watched the forest in front of him. ---------------------- "Lily, what's going on?" James asked, feeling uneasy as he watched the tension surround the room, Remus looked nervous and Peter avoided looking up, as if he was suddenly afraid to face one of them. Lily turned to James, her green eyes seemed to glow with hatred, her nostrils swollen, an expression he'd seen a few times over the years, but one that always scared him. "What... What happened?" Her shaky voice made him look at Remus again, the worry growing by the second. "Oh James." She shook her head, as if suddenly too much pain hit her, and he ran to her protection, opening his arms to hold her and protect her from anything that had happened while he was gone. "Guys, anyone…?" He glanced at his friends, but again, Peter didn't look at him. "Tell him, Peter!" Lily yelled, breaking out of James' embrace and turning to the man sitting on the floor, pointing her wand in his direction. ‘Lily, what the hell!?’ "No, James," She held up a hand, silencing him. "Tell Peter, tell him what you did to our son." His world stopped, his eyes threatening to pop out of their sockets as James stared at his friend, begging for all that was most sacred that he hadn't quite understood. Peter was his brother, his best friend, they met when they went to Hogwarts together, he was there when James needed it most, when they decided to become Animagus… Peter wouldn't do that, he couldn't! James doubted that one day the pain of losing a child would be replaced by another, that hellish emptiness that tore at him more and more inside, that made him not sleep well on rainy nights, that still made him walk into the boy's immaculate room and sit on the floor wondering what he should have done differently. He would do anything to get his son back, his boy. But the pain that hit him when Peter shook his head and lowered his head, making him

realize his hands were tied behind his body, came very close. His best friend… betrayed him? "Peter?" James pleaded, begged, for it to be a lie, for Lily to be mad. It was a lie! It had to be. "I had to, James... I... he made me." ---------------------- The weather was not so good, Peter realized when he Apparated, the sky was dark and windy like never before. He should have worn another cloak, this one was too thin and made him cold. And other gloves too, because now these were bloody and torn. Who knew a woman could be so strong? Peter dragged the woman's passed out body with him, feeling a little sickened by that when he realized her wound was getting worse with each passing minute, he needed to be quick. Leaving the body where no one could find it, he pulled a strand of her hair into the potion and then took it, the horrible taste of iron made him want to spit it out on the floor, but now there was no turning back, he would have to swallow and continue with the plan. Lord Voldemort had promised him a great reward in exchange for the boy's life, and for the first time in a long time, Peter felt important and wanted. It wasn't that Black boy who was chosen, or even Snape, no no, he was the one Voldemort thought capable of completing the mission, he thought he was strong enough. How long has it been since? He only stayed inside the Order because James kept him there, no one really wanted him there, not even Dumbledore, Peter didn't need him to say it to know, it was visible to everyone. For the old man, any other man could do the job better than he… Probably if Lily were there too, she would be chosen before Peter. Potter this, Black that, Peter was tired. Why didn't anyone realize he was also strong and smart? Well, now that was over, Voldemort had seen his potential and chosen him to do this mission, and Peter wasn't going to fail now. When he was fully transformed into that whore, he apparated into the castle, glad the potion didn't stop him from doing so. Stupid James should have put in better security than a simple spell. Peter had seen James that afternoon, he said that today was Harry's first night trying to sleep alone and that he and Lily were excited to see how he would react to the change, so the plan would be even easier to execute. As excited as Peter was at the idea of ​​being useful to someone, he knew he couldn't kill James, he had to really want to do it with all his heart. When he reached the boy's room, Peter looked around, noting the choice of bright, cheerful colors, the many teddy bears scattered around, the photos on the walls and in the frames above the dresser. Little Harry slept peacefully in his bed, wrapped in the pale blue blanket, looking peaceful, cuddled up with his deer teddy bear. He was a lot like James, Peter thought, watching the boy move his short legs like he was kicking something in the dream. He hadn't really thought about that part of the plan, he figured he'd have the guts to just take the boy and end his life right there, or in some alley farther along, but when Peter picked him up, being careful not to waking him up, that lavender scent invaded his nostrils and he watched the baby more closely. The boy looked helpless in his arms, like he wasn't even real, and if he wasn't watching the boy's belly rise and fall, Peter would think he was a doll. Voldemort would never know if he had killed the boy or not, and pausing to analyze the situation now, Peter also didn't know if he could kill the boy. He wanted to show that he was strong and useful, but a baby? Harry looked so…small. When he stirred, startling Peter, and seemed to be looking for something - maybe his mother's scent - he realized it was time to act, there was no turning back, it had to be now. And when lightning flashed in the sky, he cast a spell to prevent Harry from listening when he broke the glass to fake an escape, Peter waited for thunder to do so and then Apparated out of the castle, knowing that this was the best thing to do. There were two paths now, and he needed to think quickly

which was better, kill Harry and throw him in some hole, or give the boy to someone else. Of course he would risk this person recognizing the baby, but he would have to bet his luck on finding another baby like this for Lily and James to bury, or maybe even run to the Muggle village and find some woman there. It had to be fast, Harry would wake up any second and Peter didn't have much time after that. As soon as he spotted a woman a few blocks away and Harry opened his eyes in his arms, Peter acted without thinking, taking the knife from his pants pocket and opening a wound in his ribs, before starting to scream for help. ---------------------- James clapped his hand over his mouth, denying it over and over, not believing what he was hearing. No no no no. This had to be a lie, this had to be a lie. Peter would never do that, Peter was his brother, he would never… No, this could only be a joke. He could barely handle the pain right now, thinking he'd rather die than have to deal with it. It hurt so much that James thought he might start bleeding at any moment, his chest lacerated after hearing about it. He couldn't even feel angry. His boy, his little boy, whom he'd loved so much ever since Lily told him she was pregnant, that it made him want to scream from the top of the roof in so much joy… “I could kill you right now,” he said, after what seemed like an eternity, barely able to face the traitor. "But…" James shook his head, closing his eyes to try to make it hurt a little less, his father's voice resonating through his mind; "You must be careful with Peter," he said before he died. "Men like him are easily attracted to the side that shines the most." James had thought his father was delusional when he said that, thought it was the fever, but no, the bastard really was a weakling and a coward. Letting himself be attracted to those he once hated. If he really hated it. "I can't even look at you." James turned to Lily, who looked distraught to death at having to hear that story. He wanted to kill Peter even more for making her suffer like that. The traitor had been there the next day, helping with the searches, he had hugged Lily when she cried, told her everything would be fine. "James, give me your hand," asked Lily, her own trembling, reaching out towards him. 'Why?' "Lils…he could be lying—" She shook her head, telling Remus to shut up. "Give me your hand James." Now her voice was stronger, more determined, and her green eyes sparkled even more. He did so, letting her grab his palm and run the tip of the knife, causing the blood to drip and smear her workbench and floor, before finally dripping into the cauldron. “Lily, what are you doing?” But she didn't answer him, cutting her own palm and spilling her blood along with his, then looking over her husband's shoulder. She looked more nervous than ever, and her severed hand shook even more as she held it out to the man behind James. "Give me your hand, Henry." Her green eyes sparkled with tears, and James didn't know if the man did as she asked just because she was a Duchess, or because she was crying. "Yes, ma'am." He walked over and let her do the same thing with his palm, passing the tip of the knife and then letting the blood spill into the cauldron. The potion began to bubble fiercely, as did James' chest when he realized what Lily was up to. He had seen her make this potion a few times, and if his thinking was correct, then maybe he could vomit right there, his stomach churning and making him feel weak. James didn't want to get his hopes up, it only served to hurt when unrequited, but he was unable to hold back the urge and looked at the man behind him, and then at Peter, who now looked even more guilty, if that was possible. If this was another one of his jobs with Voldemort, James knew he would kill him right there, with his bare hands. Forget magic and wands, he would tear that mouse apart like a hungry lion. James turned to the cauldron again when Lily sobbed and he smelled the lavender scent all over the room, and the once gray

potion was now a pinkish hue, the three drops of blood seemed to dance in the middle of the liquid, before of finally meeting at the end, getting connected. "Harry." Lily turned to the man, but James remained frozen, watching the cauldron in front of him. They had never reached this result, usually the potion would explode or nothing happened, and the smell was never that sweet aroma that seemed to fill all the hollows in his chest, as if he suddenly felt no more pain. As he turned back, as Lily advanced towards the boy, James thought that maybe nothing would ever compare to this. "Harry," Lily repeated, but this time she touched him, and as if the boy felt it too, he lowered his green eyes to her. James remembered then where he knew that look… It was Lily's eyes. Her trembling hand went to his forehead, lifting the hair lying there, just to let them see the lightning scar marked into his skin. It was too much to handle, James didn't know how he was still standing, but suddenly he started to feel tears rolling down his cheeks and as if this was the last drop of water to overflow the bucket, he sobbed. He inched closer to Lily, wanting to take a closer look at his son, as if he was afraid this was a dream and soon he would no longer have the chance to memorize every detail of it. His boy… "You-" Harry trailed off, as if he was feeling like James and Lily, his chest filling up and all that emptiness seeming to finally heal. "My parents?" He looked at James, and it was as if time had never passed. He still had the same expression as that little baby James used to cuddle up to sleep on. "I knew I knew you from somewhere," James managed to say, his throat seeming to scratch with the effort it took. "I would never be able to forget…" He didn't mind the tears rolling down his face, but he tried to wipe the ones down Harry's face. "I would never be able to forget my son."

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 31

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: At Waystation, pt 4/?

A/N: Soo sorry about the long wait! This was a very long and kind of tricky chapter to write so it took me longer than I would have wanted. But in a way this is (ironically) a good day to post this chapter as it's the Mother's day in many parts of the world today. (Happy Mother’s day Esperanza Valdez ;___;)

Before we head into this chapter, I want to give you guys a warning that it (specifically, the flashback in the beginning of the chapter) talks about what happened to Leo's mother, so in case you find that too hard to read, feel free to skip it. (If you have read HoO, I think you can somewhat guess what to expect)

Thanks for all the amazing support you guys have given me so far! ♥ It's what keeps me going! Now, enjoy, and remember that I'd really like to hear what you think because there's a lot going on in this chapter!

Words: 5550 (yeah, long one)

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: minor character death (talked about), be aware!

previous chapter / AO3

*flashback*

There was fire. So much fire.

Leo had been tinkering with his toy tools and drawing some simple blueprints in the living room when he had remembered that he had left his hammer into his room. He went to look for it and it took him a couple of minutes to locate it from under the unfinished toys and papers he had thrown around. Unfortunately, that couple of minutes had been enough for all hell to break loose in the living room.

He started smelling smoke and ran back downstairs to see where it came from. The wooden floor and several pieces of furniture in the living room were on fire, which seemed to have started from the papers he had left near the fireplace. Leo’s mind went completely blank like a machine that had just been shut down. The only thing that he was capable of thinking was: what do I do?

His mother had put a fire in the fireplace before she had left to run some errands because it had been a cold day. She had warned Leo several times to be careful with it, even putting a bucket of water and a smothering blanket nearby in case of emergency. But it was already too late to use them; the fire had already spread too far in the room. Because of his state of panic, it took Leo a while to manage to make decisions, but finally, his brain told him: get your phone so you can call mom, and run.

What his 8-year-old brain didn’t understand: he should have just left the building right then and asked a neighbor or someone to call the fire department instead. But Leo could only think how the very thing his mother had been worried about just happened and how she’d probably never forgive him for – no matter how accidentally – burning their home. He had vague memories of leaving his cell phone that he had gotten a few months earlier on his birthday into his room, so he ran upstairs as quickly as he could with his short, wobbly legs. However, the phone wasn’t on his desk like he had anticipated, and it took him a while to remember he had thrown it under the bed after getting frustrated with his homework; the words on the textbook they were supposed to read had not made any sense to him.

Once he finally found the cell phone and went back downstairs to leave the building, the fire had already spread so much that he could barely see anything from the smoke. Coughing, he tried to cover his mouth with his shirt so he could protect himself from the smoke and dash to the door, but he soon realized it was not possible. His road was blocked, and the only way for him to get out would be through the upstairs windows.

Leo didn’t have the time to figure out how to open the windows so he ended up breaking his bedroom window with a real hammer that he happened to find nearby. Shaking, breathing heavily and trying to avoid the glass shards, he looked down. The fall would be quite big, at least 5-6 meters, but he was no stranger to broken bones. The fights with other school kids had taught him a thing or two about that. He would still be more likely to survive the fall than trying to go out from downstairs; at least there were no stones or other hard objects under the window. He was so full of adrenaline that he didn’t even notice that his hands were bleeding; they had hit the broken glass when he had peeked out.

Finally, he managed to gain enough courage to climb up the windowsill and lift one of his legs over the edge. In the process he scraped himself some more in the glass and tore his pants a bit as well, but who cared? It was a very minor thing compared to his mother’s face if she’d find him dead in the house. For a moment Leo thought about all the blueprints and devices in development in the basement of the house, how hours and hours of his mother’s work would go to waste if the entire house burned down – but that was a thing to worry about for later. It was already too late to do anything but to try to escape.

With a huge lump in his throat as he imagined how his mother would hate him when she’d find out about the fire, Leo finally lifted his other leg over the edge as well, sitting on the windowsill with his legs hanging in the air. The distance between him and the ground seemed even bigger than it had earlier, but he had to do this. Slowly, he inched himself forward, hesitating a bit more, but the sound of the fire breaking something downstairs startled him and finally, he dropped down.

After that his memories started getting hazy. He fainted when hitting the ground and when he first woke up he noticed the pain in his left ankle and some blood coming from his forehead. He was laying on the grass, not unharmed but at least alive, and suddenly he got aware that he had to get farther from the house because the fire could easily spread to the surrounding grounds. He could only hope that a neighbor or a passerby had already called the fire department because he himself would not be able to do that, not with his dizzy head and the pain everywhere in his body. Before he passed out again, his last thought was: when would his mother be back?

The next time he was conscious, he remembered trying to drag himself forward with his hands. He could not stand up, and not even crawl, so that was the only thing he could do. Inch by inch, he got a bit farther from his falling spot, and by that time he also started hearing some distant sirens and human yells somewhere, but his mind could not comprehend what all of it meant.

After that, the next thing he remembered was being lifted from the ground by a first responder. The man tried to tell him soothing words, probably something like ‘poor child, it will be alright’, but Leo didn’t care. He wished the fogginess of his brain would just fade so he could speak and walk on his own feet and find out what happened to his mother – if she returned yet – but afterwards, he wished he would have never found out.

He kept slipping in and out of consciousness for a while, not really sure what was happening around him, until finally he woke up in the hospital. One of his legs and arms had been plastered and a bandage had been wrapped around his head. Already he wished he could have just ripped them off and run away but he knew that wasn’t possible. A couple of minutes later, a nurse finally arrived at his bedside.

“Oh, good, I’m glad you’re awake,” she said, testing his forehead to see if he had a fever. “You scared us there, young one.”

“It’s not me you should be worried about! Where’s my mom?! Hasn’t anyone told her I am here?” Leo demanded in a hoarse voice.

The nurse ignored his question. “Now, what is your name?”

“Leo Valdez,” he answered grumpily, glaring at the nurse.

“Good. How old are you?” the woman asked then.

“8 years. But how does that have anything to do with anything? I want my mom here!”

“Calm down, Mr. Valdez. We are just doing some routine tests. You hit your head pretty badly. Now, do you remember your home address?”

Leo, despite still feeling quite dizzy, got really angry about the question. “Yes, I do, but it doesn’t matter! There’s probably nothing left of it anymore! Because it burned down!” The tears finally demanded to get out of his system as he added with a tiny voice: “And I don’t know where my mom is.”

The nurse looked very hesitant for a moment. “I, um… You know, I think we are gonna complete this test a bit later. There are some people who have been wanting to see you.” She looked towards the door restlessly.

“Is it mom?” Leo asked instantly.

The nurse just shook her head. “You’ll see soon.”

She let the visitors in and left the room, closing the door behind her. Leo found himself staring at a firefighter, who he vaguely recognized as the same one who had carried him to safety after his fall. With him entered a police officer whom Leo had not seen before. Why would a police officer want to meet him, he wondered. Maybe they’d sentence him to prison for burning the house down?

“It was an accident!” Leo blurted before the men had time to say anything, trying to look brave even though he had just cried.

“We know, we know,” the firefighter tried to calm him down. “That’s not why we are here. We wanted to see how you were doing, and, um…” he looked helplessly at his companion.

“We have some bad news,” the police officer went straight to the topic.

“Is it about the house?” Leo asked.

“No, it’s about your mother… she’s gone.”

It took Leo a moment to register what the police officer had said.

“What?” he yelled.

“I’m sorry, but she is dead.”

Leo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was already so panicked that denial was his only coping mechanism left. “Again, what?”

“It is true, young man,” the police officer stated matter-of-factly.

“But she can’t be! She wasn’t even home…!” Leo squeaked, trying to make sense of the situation in his blurry, shocked mind.

The firefighter spoke this time. “I’m so sorry, son… but he’s not lying. We found her in your house. The neighbor who called us had seen her go in before we arrived, and… when we got there… it was already too late.”

“But… but…” Leo had a very hard time getting any words out at that moment. “Why… why would she go in…? And… why didn’t anyone stop her?”

Again the visitors hesitated before answering. “This is just what we heard from a couple of witnesses, but… it seems like she had gone in to… look for you…”

Leo wished the sweet unconsciousness had returned to him in that moment, but that didn’t happen. Instead, it felt like something tried to pull his heart out of his chest. His mind was going through about a hundred different things at the same time: grief, anger, denial… and perhaps above everything else, guilt. It was his fault. It was his fault that the house had burned, and it was his fault that his mother had gone into the burning house. If he had been there to warn her… if she had known… But no, he had had to jump from upstairs to the backyard from where he had been harder to find. And then he had, only half conscious, dragged himself to a nearby trench where the humidity had protected him, being even harder to spot unless you happened to walk right next to it.

That meant that his mother had gone into the house thinking he was there… and she had died thinking he had died. All because he hadn’t listened to her, because he had left some papers on which he had been drawing too near the fireplace.

‘My fault. All my fault’, was all Leo could hear in his head on repeat. He noticed that the firefighter was trying to say something, but he could not register what. Leo didn’t ask him to repeat what he had said. Instead, he stuttered with a weak voice:

“You didn’t answer my other question. Why… didn’t anyone… stop her?”

The police officer sighed sadly. “From what we know, your neighbors had tried to tell her to not go in, that there was nothing she could do, but she refused to listen. The… smoke had already suffocated her by the time we arrived.”

Leo clenched his small fists, unable to focus his gaze anywhere. Everything around him was just a meaningless blur. All of a sudden, nothing mattered to him anymore. With his mother, Leo hadn’t just lost the most important person in his life, the only person who had ever really cared about him and understood him. He had lost his home, his safety, everything that he had loved. More to himself than to the men in the room, he sobbed:

“What's going to happen to me?”

And then everything went blank.

*end flashback*

…

When Leo woke up, he noticed he was breathing very sharply. He had to tell himself to slow it down a bit, trying to focus on the breathing instead of the dream he had just seen. Once he had calmed down a bit, he realized his face was soaked from the tears. The good feeling from the day before was gone, and suddenly he remembered all too well why he hated that holiday so much. His mother had died on Christmas day, 11 years ago.

The worst part about the nightmare he had just seen? It had actually happened. Sure, the details might have changed in Leo’s mind a bit because he had been so young when his mother had died, but most of it was true. The fire, the jumping, the people in the hospital, all true. When he had still been a kid, he had dared to hope that maybe someday the memories would start fading and it wouldn’t hurt so much. But now, 11 years later, he knew better. Thanks to the therapy and Jo, Emmie and the friends’ help, he did have moments when he managed to feel happy, focus on the future and forget the pain for a time being, but when it came back, it was always as intense. And it was especially bad on Christmas days, the anniversary of those horrific events.

‘Pull yourself together’, Leo told himself. ‘This is not what your mother would have wanted for you.’

‘No’, another, the evil voice in his head said. ‘But then again, if it weren’t for you, she would still be here.’

He groaned at himself and decided that it would be better to get himself up and moving rather than lay there listening to the voices. Sitting up, he combed his fingers through his messy hair in an attempt to tame it, with little success. After that, he wiped the tears from his face, trying to pretend it had never happened. Registering the voices coming from the living room, he figured some of his family members were already awake even though it was still rather early. They, especially Georgina, were lucky that they didn’t know what was going through in his head that day; it would have ruined everyone’s Christmas.

Trying to pull himself together and put on a happy face, he got up and washed his face in the bathroom quickly before joining the family. The moment he reached the bottom of the stairs, Georgina ran to him and hugged him.

“Merry Christmas, hermano!”

Leo patted her hair absentmindedly, thinking that Georgina was now only a year older than he had been when… no, he had to stop thinking about it. If not for anyone else’s sake, then Georgina’s. She deserved to have a happy day.

“Merry Christmas to you too, hermanita. Well, did Santa visit? Did he receive my memo on your behavior towards me this year?”

Georgina pulled away from him and folded his arms. “I’m not a little baby anymore; I know Santa doesn’t actually exist. But we did get presents! Even you, although I was kind of surprised about that.”

Leo clutched his shirt. “Ouch, Georgie! I thought you were on my side!”

The siblings continued bickering playfully as they waited for the others. They had a tradition in their house that everyone needed to be there for the present opening. Soon Josephine appeared with a tray full of coffee cups, gingerbread cookies and certain small pies she used to bake every Christmas.

“Where are the others?” Georgina asked impatiently as she started stuffing the cookies into her mouth and drummed her legs against the sofa. “I want to open the presents already!”

“Calm down, Georgie,” Jo scolded her. “Emmie is checking the cats and dogs because they also need care on Christmas day, and Calypso may still be sleeping.”

“Ugh, I told her I wanna start opening the presents early!” Georgina protested. “I’ll go wake her up if she isn’t here in 10 minutes!”

“You’ll wake who up?” Calypso showed up from the stairway. Hearing her voice and seeing her face, Leo forgot for a moment why he had been so upset earlier. Somehow her presence just had that weird effect on him. She was wearing a green holiday sweater knitted by Annabeth over her pajamas – pink with some small flower prints – and her hair was flying freely, slightly wavy because of the braids that Georgie had insisted on making the previous evening. Somehow even that casual look made her look adorable in his eyes and his throat felt dry for entirely different reasons than a few minutes earlier. Leo almost missed Calypso’s next words due to his distraction. “Sorry that you had to wait, Georgina. I was finishing up one last present because I wasn’t entirely happy with it.”

“No worries!” Georgina exclaimed. Apparently the last minute gift preparing was a good enough reason to be late in her books, because Leo knew that if he had been late for the gift opening, the little girl wouldn’t have forgiven that easily.

Calypso put her pile of neatly packed presents under the tree to wait and turned to the others.

“So, merry Christmas, everyone! If I am allowed to be honest with you, I don’t really know a lot about Christmas traditions… My family never celebrated it… But I want to learn!”

“We’ll teach you,” Georgina told her immediately. “It’s gonna be so much fun, you’ll see!”

Leo wished he himself could have been as enthusiastic about the holiday as Georgina was, but tried to keep the happy face on anyway.

“Cal, try some of those pies before Georgie has eaten them all.” He pointed to the tray Jo had brought. Calypso glanced at him suspiciously for a moment. “Don’t give me that look; I swear I didn’t make them. It’s all Jo and Emmie.”

“Fine,” Calypso agreed and took a bite. “This is really good!” she exclaimed once her mouth was empty.

“Told you. Now do you trust me?” Leo asked her teasingly.

“Hmmm. That’s still to be determined,” Calypso replied, but Leo could see her smile into her piece of pie.

As everyone waited for Emmie to return inside, they kept up a light banter as they ate their Christmas breakfast in the living room. Even Leo did his best to participate in it, and soon he did feel a bit better, although if someone had looked at him more closely, they would have noticed the smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes.

Finally, Emmie arrived together with Festus and Georgina instantly pulled her towards the Christmas tree so they could start the gift sharing. A grin spread across Leo’s face as well when he watched the little girl run back and forth as she delivered the packages to their rightful owners. This was now, he tried to remind himself. What happened in the past… was in the past and his mother would probably have wanted him to enjoy these moments.

Not that he’d ever know that for sure, the nasty voice in Leo’s head said again, and the grin almost disappeared from his face.

To no one’s surprise, Georgina got the most presents because even some family friends and neighbors had sent her something (that’s what happened when she got everyone wrapped around her finger, Leo thought), but everyone else got their fair share of self made gifts as well. Leo noticed that Calypso had three packages; one from him, one from Georgina who had insisted on making her own present, and one from Jo and Emmie. He found himself wishing she’d like what he had made; he had spent quite a lot of time on it.

Before anyone could start ripping their wrapping papers off the presents, Festus was given some treats so he wouldn’t interrupt the gift opening too much. Georgina got the privilege of getting to open hers first. She chuckled at Leo’s jokes in the photo album, which Leo took as a success, and squealed excitedly at the tiny dragon toy he had carved from wood and painted. Calypso had sewed her a detailed gryphon plushie, because Leo had told her that Georgina had recently gotten interested in the mythical creatures, a topic Calypso knew a lot about. The little girl hugged the plushie enthusiastically while Calypso promised her to tell her more about the Greek mythology later when they’d have more time. Emmie gave Georgie a tiny beginning of a plant that she’d get to raise on her own, and Jo, the practical person that she was, gave her a pocket knife for tinkering with a warning that she’d only get to use it under her supervision.

Leo and Calypso allowed Jo and Emmie to open their presents next. It was mostly practical stuff, like woolly socks, self made chocolate, and new tools (which broke the ‘homemade’ rule but Leo knew Jo needed them), but Leo had also tinkered frames for a photo of the Waystation family and asked Calypso to decorate it with her paints. The final result looked pretty good in his opinion.

Next was Calypso’s turn. Georgina had attempted to crochet a potholder for her because Leo had guiltily admitted that he may have accidentally ruined one of Calypso’s potholders while cooking something. However, since she was still a beginner in the handicrafts, the potholder had some room for improvement, but Leo could see from Calypso’s happy face that she appreciated the gesture. Leo had also told his mothers that Calypso really loved her flowers, so they gave her a white orchid in a pot that Jo had once crafted. Finally, she opened the gift Leo had made for her. He was biting his lip and tapping his fingers nervously even though he tried to act nonchalant as he watched Calypso’s reaction. Before she removed the paper, she knocked on the surface of the gift, trying to guess what was in it.

“Is this a tool box? So you could borrow mine when you lose yours?” She teased.

“Well, at least that would be useful, don’t you think? But hold your horses; it’s probably not what you think it is,” Leo hinted. Calypso gave him a quizzical look and Leo took that as a sign that she really had no idea what the gift was.

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” she noted and started carefully removing the paper. Unlike Georgina, she made sure that the paper would still be usable on some later occasion. Calypso wasn’t entirely wrong with her guess; the gift was indeed a box of sorts. But it wasn’t for tools. Instead, it was a jewelry box; wooden, self made, painted rose pink, which happened to be Calypso’s favorite color. When she opened it, she noticed a small mirror on the lid with some text on it. The box also played one of those few songs that they both happened to like. Calypso traced her finger on the smooth surface of the box for a moment before she noticed that there was still something more in the box: a silvery bracelet with a letter C hanging from it. She took it into her hands and admired it for a moment before reading aloud the text that had been written on the mirror:

“You can’t start the next chapter of your life if you keep rereading the last one.”

“Um, yeah…” Leo was unsure how he should respond. Suddenly he got worried he had been too straightforward with that message, and Calypso wouldn’t appreciate it. “It was a quote, um, that I happened to stumble upon somewhere recently… But I thought it was quite fitting?”

Calypso looked at him straight into the eyes and for a moment Leo managed to forget that there were others in the room. It was as if she was trying to message him wordlessly that she understood the meaning of the quote.

“Yes, I think it works,” she replied slowly. “For both of us.”

Leo felt his ears getting heated and attempted to comb his hair over them with his fingers to not make it so painfully obvious. Given what day it was, he understood that it was ironic he was using that quote when he himself was struggling to let go from his past.

“True,” he had to admit, looking at the others nervously from the corner of his eye. “It’s… it’s something that we both should try to remember. Something we have in common, right?”

Calypso seemed to accept his explanation. “Right. Um, this box is really beautiful. You’ve seen a lot of trouble with it. The music and all… It’s really nice. Did you even make this bracelet?”

Even though Leo should have prepared himself for that question, he felt embarrassed to reveal the bracelet’s origins, afraid it might sound too sentimental. He rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat to get more time to consider his answer.

“The… the chain was from an old bracelet my mom had… My biological mom, I mean. I didn’t get to keep a lot of her belongings but this had survived… and my dear aunt didn’t want to keep it so I’ve been carrying it around as a charm of some sort. But the thing is, I don’t really need it so it was Jo’s suggestion that I could give it to someone who’d use it. She helped me make this,” he showed the C, “because I don’t really…”

“Want to forge anything,” Calypso finished for him. “Yeah. I understand.”

“Good. If you don’t like it, you can give it to someone else; I’m sure my mom wouldn’t mind…”

Calypso gave him an encouraging smile. “Oh, no! This bracelet meant a lot to you so it means a lot to me. It’s a really nice gesture, Leo.”

“You’re welcome?” he replied, kind of flustered by her reaction.

Calypso fiddled with the gift for a moment before turning her attention back to Leo.

“Would you like to put this on my wrist? I’d like to see how it fits.”

“Oh… alright!” Leo agreed, wishing he could say something that didn’t make him sound like a complete idiot. But then again, he reminded himself, wasn’t that what most people thought of him? And since when had he cared?

Calypso handed the bracelet to him and Leo took a very light hold of her wrist, as if afraid that he’d burn her skin with his hot fingers. He was so focused on his task that he even forgot that it was technically against the ‘rules’ they had set, but Calypso had initiated it so who was he to deny her request? He put the chain around her wrist with fumbling fingers and closed the lock. After that he allowed his hand to stay around hers a moment longer. He swiped the surface of the chain with his finger, also touching the back of her hand by accident (or maybe on purpose). Calypso looked up from their hands to him with a surprisingly soft expression that he hadn’t seen since that day when they had promised each other to try harder to be ‘just friends’. His brain sent sparks through his spine and he felt very warm all of a sudden.

“I… um… it seems to fit, doesn’t it?” he finally stuttered, looking down at the bracelet, Calypso’s gaze still lingering in his mind. He let her wrist go and already his hand felt much colder, as if it was missing something.

“Oh, yeah,” Calypso nodded, absentmindedly fiddling with the chain of the bracelet. “It’s small enough that it won’t fall but it’s not too small.”

“Good,” Leo said, a smile returning to his face. “Guess you’re just as tiny as my mom was.” He finally managed to bring out his more playful side.

“Have you looked into the mirror lately, Mister Super-Sized McShizzle? You’re not exactly a giant yourself,” Calypso teased back.

Georgina giggled at her response. “You tell him, Calie!”

“This Georgina here, though,” Leo grinned at her, “she must really have some giant blood in her. She uses my overalls in the garage sometimes!”

“I do not,” Georgina denied quickly. “They’re stinky.”

“Yeah? And you smell like flowers and rainbows,” Leo retorted and started tickling the little girl.

For a moment Leo was able to forget that he hated Christmas as he played with Georgina, but then someone reminded him that he still had to open his own presents. He looked at the pile he had gotten and thought briefly that he had gotten more of them than what he had expected. Georgina had drawn him a picture of him with Festus and sewed him a simple pencil case for his blueprint pencils. Jason and Piper had gotten him a book about weird mechanics facts. Percy had sent him a new orange t-shirt so Leo could return him the one that he had once borrowed after a workout (which, according to Percy, was ‘way too big for him anyway’). Leo’s moms had made him an awesome tool case where even the bigger tools would fit and baked some of his favorite goodies. Finally, it was the turn for Calypso’s present, though.

“What do you think it is?” Calypso asked, glancing at him curiously.

“My first guess would have been a pack of olives because you know how much I love those things… But this doesn’t feel like them. It’s mostly soft but there are some hard parts too. Maybe a bit like a backpack?"

“That wasn’t a half bad guess,” Calypso responded. “But I won’t tell you the correct answer; you can figure it out on your own.” She invited Leo to open the present.

“Okie, Sunshine, will do.”

He ripped the paper (which was Leo’s favorite shade of red) off notably less gracefully than Calypso had done with her presents, but his mouth opened involuntarily when he saw what was inside. It was a toolbelt, not looking like one of those belts that broke in his use after the first couple of days (Leo had a habit to load them too full sometimes), but sturdy, well made. Leo wondered where she had obtained the leather she had used in it, and hoped that it hadn’t cost her too much money. The belt had four different sized pockets for the tools and it seemed like one of them had something in it, but before Leo checked what was inside, he turned to Calypso:

“How did you know I needed one of these?”

“Probably because you’ve been carrying wrenches and stuff in your jean pockets and I’ve also seen your room and that’s enough for me to be able to tell you need a place for your tools,” Calypso smirked. Leo barely heard her answer. He didn’t want to admit aloud that one of the reasons why he was suddenly feeling so sentimental about a tool belt was because it reminded him a lot of the one his mom had made for him when he was a kid. “I hope this wasn’t too much trouble…” He noted more quietly than usual.

“It was not trouble at all,” Calypso reassured him. “I have sewed more difficult things. The leather was actually from one of my old bags that my dad got for me – which I hated – so I didn’t even have to buy a lot of the materials. Besides, you yourself made this,” she knocked the wooden cover of the jewelry box, “and I bet it was a lot more difficult.”

“Nah, it wasn’t…” Leo tried to protest and he noticed the others in the room had a hard time keeping their faces straight as they listened to the flatmates competing whose present had taken more time. “The music was probably the most complicated part.”

“Okay,” Calypso said, deciding to leave the debate there. “Hey, I forgot to mention that there is something small in one of the pockets. You could check it out now.”

“Alright, I will,” Leo told her. He reached out to the said pocket and found a small box from it. His smile instantly disappeared from his face when he realized what it was. Everyone went quiet for a while as they were waiting for his reaction.

“Why would you give me matches, especially today of all days?” He lifted his gaze from the box, his eyes sparkling angrily. Before anyone could say anything, he threw the box away and jumped up from his seat. Calypso’s sad face was the last thing he saw before storming out of the room.

[tommodirection]

Miss You More

Louis Tomlinson x Singer! Reader

Masterlist

Word Coung: 2.5k

Warnings: swearing, death, cancer, mentions of death

Disclaimer: Miss You More is an actual song that I wrote, and it isn’t published or anything, but it’s one I wrote about the loss of my grandfather, and so I may link it here if I feel like it so you know what the song is and what it’s about, there are just a few words you’d have to change, but anyways!

A/N: Heylo! I’m going to be honest with you, this is not my favorite thing I’ve ever written, and it’s a little corny, and poorly worded, but eh. It’s one am, I’m going to sleep after this! Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy! Thank you, and have a nice day!

——————

Ever since you were a child, you knew you wanted to sing.

It all started with your mum. When you were little, she’d always sing to you, every night before you went to bed.

Soon enough, you began singing back to her, and she loved every second of it.

You sang together every chance you got, singing in the car, in the house, at parties, even when you walked the dog together through your neighborhood.

She had encouraged you to make a YouTube channel for your music, knowing you’d make it big. At first, you were hesitant, not confident enough to post your voice on the internet, but you finally agreed weeks later.

You mostly did covers at first. Of course, your 14-year-old self didn’t know what she was doing. All she knew was that she was doing something she loved.

About a year after making the channel, you began making custom content. You learned to play the guitar and you’d use it almost every second. You took it everywhere. Well, everywhere you knew you’d be able to show off.

The songs were mostly about crushes and school and friends, the main things circling around your life at the time.

But it all changed when you were sixteen.

It was no secret your mother had cancer. She had since you were little, yet she had kept fighting it, succeeding for a few years.

The doctors had said she was getting better, on her way to becoming cured, well, as cured as she could be.

But out of nowhere, it plunged. She was coughing up blood, and could barely stand, needing assistance to go the bathroom. It just kept getting worse.

One of the worst parts of losing your mum was the fact that it was the holiday season, ruining the time of year for your family for years to come.

You remembered her final day alive. She was laying in the hospital bed, lips chapped and all colored drained from her face. Her lips were bloodied as well, reminisce of the blood she had hacked up minutes ago.

Your father and siblings were there beside her. Your father held your little brother, he was four at the time, and your younger sister was standing next to you, she was twelve. Alex didn’t fully understand what was happening, he just knew his mum wasn’t well, and he mostly hid his face in your father’s shoulder.

Morgan, however, understood exactly what was happening, and she was crying beside you. She was trying her best to hold back, maintaining a straight stance and trying to hide her shaking hands. You watched as tears flooded down her face, making small wet patches on the sheets.

You looked at your mum, studying her. She had done so much for all of you, but there was nothing you could do for her as she layed in the bed, motionless, save for her eyes, darting between all of you.

You knew how much singing meant to your mother, and so you did the only thing you knew you could do. You sang.

Her favorite holiday song was Silver Bells, so you started the song, your family soon joining in. Your mother smiled gratefully at all of you.

She joined in towards the chorus, her voice still weak, but just as beautiful as when you first heard it.

Those were your last moments with your mother.

She passed away hours later, the anticipated news crushing your family.

You had all slept together that night, knowing you couldn’t be apart. Alex didn’t know what had happened, and you knew your father couldn’t handle it, so you had stepped in, trying to explain to the boy that his mum was gone, and she wasn’t coming back.

—

After she passed, you had stopped uploading to your channel, getting emotional every time you even tried singing.

But months later, you had decided not to give up. Instead, you chose to move forward. You started writing again.

The song you were writing was about your mother, it seemed fitting. You knew no amount of words could ever sum up your relationship with her, nor your grief, but you tried your best in the song.

You had spent a few months writing the song, not it a rush. You were pouring your heart into this song, and if it was rushed, you knew it’d have no meaning, just some words with a few riffs thrown in.

A few days after your seventeenth birthday, you uploaded the video onto your account, the first video uploaded since your mother had died.

After uploading it, you decided to turn your computer off for the night. You knew how obsessive you got with checking your feedback, you normally refreshed the page until your fingers were sore.

Instead, you walked into the kitchen, guitar forgotten. You hadn’t shared the song with your family yet, and you knew you needed to do acapella, it was much more fitting.

You were scared of how they were going to react, especially your dad and Morgan.

Immediately after finishing the song, Morgan tackled you in a hug, burying her head in your shoulder, “Thank you,” she mumbled and you pelt tears pricking your eyes.

Your dad stood, his hand over his mouth. Alex was sitting at the table, eating his cereal. You waited in silence for a few moments, waiting for your dad to say something, but nothing.

Alex interrupted the silence, “That’s the first time I’ve heard you sing in a while, sissy,” he said, a wide grin. You don’t know where your family would be without Alex. He knew exactly how to light up a whole room, he knew how to make people feel better.

“I know, bud,” you smiled and he gave you a toothy grin, turning back to his cereal.

You dad finally let out a small, choked sob, “I miss her so much,” he said, opening his arms. You quickly collapsed in them. He was the one you wanted approval from the most.

“I do too, Dad,” you whispered.

—

Years later, you found yourself at Triple Strings Record Label.

A man sat in front of you, shuffling through some papers at his desk. He sighed loudly, and shoved the papers aside, giving you his full attention, “So, miss L/N, we’ve heard some of your work, and were quiet big fans,” he said, folding his hands in front of him.

“Thank you,” you smiled nervously, and he glanced at the clock.

“Well, my name is Bryan, Bryan Detreon. I’m an agent here for all the upcoming stars in the music industry, although I can’t take credit for finding you, that goes to the creator of the label himself,” he chuckled and you froze.

“Wait, the owner as in, like, Louis Tomlinson?” You asked, suddenly sitting up in your chair.

Of course you knew who Louis Tomlinson was. You were a year younger than him, grew up with him on the screen and on the radio.

He let out a small laugh, “Yeah, as in Louis Tomlinson, he found you personally and requested you be brought in. He’s offering you a contract, I’ve emailed it to you, but I’d like to go over it now, just to point out some things! Now, he said to take as much time as you needed to decide. You can have a lawyer look over this if you’d like, and just back to us when you have an answer! Although, he’d probably prefer to have it before the beginning of his tour! Oh yeah! He wants you as his one opening act!” He finished, pushing a copy of the document towards you.

You took a second to process what he had said, and when you finally had. You nearly fell out of your chair. “He wants me to open for him?!”

“Yup,” he continued as if it were nothing. “Now, in the first section…” you tuned him out, you’d read it at home.

Louis fucking Tomlinson wanted you to open for him. How were you supposed to say no? Your dream come true, after years of posting on YouTube and going to school to study music, hoping someone would find you, and it had all led to this.

Twenty-six years of your life, all leading up to this moment.

“Any questions?” Bryan asked, locking eyes with your

You quickly shook your head, gathering your stuff and standing up. “Nope, thank you so much for this opportunity, I will definitely look it over and email you as soon as I know! Thank you!” You rambled, and ran out the door, trying to rush home.

“I got fucking signed!” You screamed into the empty household. You had your own place, but you felt the need to run to your family’s home to share the news.

Your dad walked in from the kitchen, Alex trailing behind him. Alex was fourteen now, which now meant he was starting to call horn father out on his bullshit, not that there was much.

“Welcome home to you too,” your Dad teased, and Alex looked up, his face instantly lighting up. He ran and wrapped his arms around you, he was beginning to tower over you.

“I missed you,” he grumbled, trying to hide his face.

You laughed and patted his back, “I missed you too bud.”

“What’s this about being signed?” Morgan strolled into the room, she was still living at home, finishing her last semester of university. She had grown into a beautiful woman, looking almost identical to your mother.

“Right! So, I got a call and email about an interview, and it said to meet at the Sony label here, and to go to the Triple String label office! I get there, and the guy tells me that they’re huge fans and want me to sign a contract with them! Turns out, LOUIS FUCKING TOMLINSON WANTS ME TO OPEN FOR HIM!” You screamed, not caring about the neighbors.

Morgan swooped you into a hug, you hated being the shortest. “Aw, my big sis is going to be a pop star!”

—

Months later, you stood backstage, picking at your sleeve. You glanced behind the curtain and saw hundreds of people standing and an endless chatter.

It was your first show of the tour, you had rehearsed hundreds of times, but that did nothing to settle your nerves.

Louis only had one opening act. You. You were all the crowd got before him, so you had to impress them.

You felt someone grab your waist from behind, as you nearly jumped out of your skin. You heard a small giggle in response, recognizing the voice.

You turned to playfully glare at Louis, your boyfriend of four months. You had bonded during rehearsals, and bonded over your similar life experiences, and soon enough, you had begun dating.

Only a handful of people knew, his family, and the crew on tour with you. You weren’t prepared to tell your family yet.

“What are you lookin at?” He asked, wrapping an arm around you. You rested your head on his chest.

“Just looking at the crowd, it’s huge,” you mumbled and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“It’ll be alright, they’ll love you,” he assured, and you smiled at him, grateful for his company.

“Thank you Lou,” you went to give him a proper kiss, but you were interrupted by the stage manager, telling you it was time for you to get in your position.

You quickly waved Louis goodbye, and ran to your platform under the stage, the one that you’d be rising up on in seconds.

They gave you a countdown, and a crew member handed you a mic.

On one, they hauled you up, your hand already in their places.

You were met with a roar of cheers and applause as you surfaced, singing one of your most popular songs, ‘Don’t Start With Me Now,’ written about an old, toxic, best friend.

It was thrilling, hearing the people singing your lyrics back to you, you were shocked they knew them. Being on stage gave you adrenaline you’d never experienced before, and soon, all your nerves flooded away.

As you finished your song, you heard the crowd erupted into cheers, whistles being scattered throughout the crowd. Monologue time.

“Hey guys!” You greeted. “My name is Y/N L/N, and I have been chosen by the honorable host, Louis Tomlinson, to open the show up for you guys! I won’t be up here for long, just enough time to play a few more songs, but don’t worry, I’ll be back soon enough!” You hinted, the crowd screaming in response.

You played through all of the songs you’d written, well, except for one. You hadn’t played Miss You More yet, there was a surprise to come later on.

You gave a farewell to the audience, and stepped off stage, the hair and make-up people touching you up before you could even regain your footing.

Louis didn’t particularly like breaks, so the second you were off the platform, he was getting on.

You stood by, waiting for your cue.

The stage manager nodded, and you stepped onto the platform, your dress changed into a skirt and a nice blouse, courtesy of the costume department.

“Now, I have a special guest here to be with me on stage tonight. We both lost our mothers, when they were both remarkably young, and both to cancer. We’ve both written songs about it, and we thought we’d make a mash-up for you guys tonight!” He exclaimed, and the crowd's cheers nearly popped your ear.

Your platform began moving up, revealing you to the crowd. The cheers echoed through the stadium, and you smiled, waving at them, taking your place beside Louis.

You were counted in, and your mashup of Two of Us and Miss You More began. It was one of your favorite things you’d ever taken part in creating, having input from both you and Louis, not just some producers telling you what to do. This was all you.

The last chords of the song bellowed throughout the stadium. The audience’s cries and shouts of praise filled the room once again.

You looked over at Louis, who was busy admiring the crowd, his blue eyes lit up, a genuine smile on his face. It was at this moment that you realized something; you were in love with this man.

His eyes finally caught yours, and he gestured to the crowd, who was still burning as bright as before.

You smiled and whispered, “I love you.”

You knew Louis had gotten great and lip readings he had basically mastered it.

He quickly out his mic back on the stand and pulled you into a hug, leaning down to say something into your ear, just loud enough so you could hear, “I love you too.”

—

The next day, Louis was pulled into an interview before you headed to the next location. The questions were pretty simple ones, mostly openers for him to promote the movie, but there was one question at the end that made you both smile.

“What song did you fall in love to?”

You knew the answer.

A/N: Let me know if you wanna be added to my permanent taglist! Just send an ask or a message!

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