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farfromstrange · 11 months

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Butterfly Effect | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Masterlist

Chapter Four: Dirty Chai

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Barista!Reader (afab)

Summary: Michael can't stop thinking about you and you can’t stop thinking about him. Although the way you channel your feelings inherently differs. At lunch, you decide to become his personal coffee delivery service and hope it will get you some answers. He's not very open when it comes to his past, but you manage to see a glimpse of who he really is. Or, you take another shot at unraveling Michael's guarded heart, still hoping he will finally take a step toward you in return and that this odd attraction you’re feeling isn't just one-sided.

Warnings: Smutty themes 18+ MINORS DNI, male masturbation, allusions to oral sex, allusions to handjobs & allusions to p in v, fluff, pining, kissing, hurt/comfort, a bit of angst

Word Count: 6.7k

A/n: This is just a taste for what's to come, both in the naughty and in the angsty sense. Thank you all so much for your love and support so far and I am currently planning a continuation of this series with these two that follows the actual storyline and plot of the show but also with my own twist on it. I'm not sure when or how, but I've got the idea because Butterfly Effect has become by far one of my favorite fics to work on because it's just a bunch of human beings with no superpowers, and that's an awesome challenge after writing Marvel for so long. Anyway, enjoy this chapter!

Read All Previous Parts Here...

18+ under the cut!

Michael dreams of you. Your lips on his, your hands in his hair. He dreams of the dress you wore the day before last, the soft skin of your thighs, the smell of your perfume, and how it felt to hold your hand.

He dreams of you and your godly lips. He thinks about what else you could do with them, how your hands would feel tugging at his hair as he gets on his knees to worship you, to show you that you deserve to be pleased too, and he wonders what the rest of you would taste like. You’re divine, there is no doubt about that, but he feels this desperate need to spread you open and eat you whole like you’re his last meal on death row. He craves more than a kiss. You’re everywhere as he sleeps, and your lips paint delicate patterns on his skin until he’s writhing in the sheets.

With a gasp, Michael’s eyes shoot open. He’s lying on his back, his body covered in a sheen of sweat. He looks down. His cock is aching hard in his boxers.

It’s morally wrong to think of you in that context. It’s even worse that he reaches into his underwear to find pre-cum leaking out of the mushroom tip, but he’s so hard, it hurts, and he can still feel your lips on his.

This obviously isn’t the first time he has woken up hard after a dream, but he had never craved it to be a reality until now, and that’s all he can think about.

If you hadn’t pulled away the day before, would you have asked him into your apartment? Would you have led him to your bed, take your clothes off, and spread your legs for him so he could indulge in something other than the voices in his head? He now knows that your touch can make the world go quiet. He realized that there is something about you being so physically close to him that makes all the blood rush from his head to his cock, and he feels as if he’s on a high or drunk or both when he thinks about the power of your hands alone. Your mouth though, that’s the strongest weapon you possess. Not just when it comes to words.

He remembers the kiss vividly. Your lips moved with a purpose like this was something you knew you wanted, and they moved rhythmically against his as if you’d done it a million times before. He remembers getting lost in how warm you felt. Your chapstick still lingers, and when he opens his mouth, he swears he can taste you.

His cock throbs. It’s so wrong it already feels right again; the relief he feels when he starts stroking up and down his shaft to the faintest memory of your lips makes everything else turn gray.

Your hand would be softer than his calloused fingers, but from what he could tell before, you have a stern grip and you would probably pay close attention to every last vein and the slit that drags through his tip with your delicate fingers because you never do anything short of perfection.

You would be eager to make him come undone in the palm of your hands, maybe you would even use your mouth. Those lips that he only got to taste once would wrap around his cock. You would struggle to get him down your throat fully at first, but then you would hollow your cheeks and suck his soul right out of his body through his cock. The pleasure would be out of this world.

You would suck and lick at him, you would kiss him all over as your hands explore his body, and you would make sure he’s taken care of everywhere at once. Maybe your nails would rake over his skin, tug at his chest hair and find his nipples only to play with them. You’re addicted to detail, and you would feel so good wrapped around his cock – first your mouth and then your sweet cunt he suspects tastes just as perfect as your lips.

Michael thinks about you in the lewdest of ways and the guilt is knocking on his door relentlessly, but he’s lost in the feeling of his hand that he wants nothing more than to be yours as he strokes faster and squeezes his aching cock harder. His abs tighten. He groans and he pants and he knows by saying your name in such ecstasy makes what he’s doing even more wrong, but then he thinks about your mouth and that smile of yours turning into a slack jaw as you’re writhing and moaning his name, preferably with his head between your thighs or his cock buried deep inside of you instead of his sloppy hand, and he’s done for.

It takes only a few more strokes before his cum spills messily into his palm and all over his stomach, and the orgasm is painfully intense, it drags on for ages as your face dances foggily in front of his inner eyes and your voice whispers sweet nothings into his ear.

Perverse, that’s the first word that comes to mind when Michael finds his way back to himself. What he just did crosses so many boundaries, and yet the secrecy and obscenity of the situation makes his cock twitch all over again. You’re unaware of the thoughts you have put into his head. You’re so innocent, untouchable, and that makes you even more intriguing. He wants what he could have, but in his mind, he can’t have you, and that makes him want you even more.

Michael wants you in more ways than just because he’s seeking comfort, and as the physical need grows bigger, the demons in his head are going crazy with what it would mean if he acted on his desires the way he wants to.

Do you touch yourself to the thought of him too? He wonders. Did he get you as worked up as you did him? He hopes. The thought of you touching yourself while moaning his name, perhaps with a vibrator or your slender fingers alone barely allows him to get off the cliff he jumped off from. He doesn’t want to think about it because you pleasuring yourself to the thought of him has the power to make him hard again, but he catches his mind slipping to the sight of you in your bed, the sheets barely covering your naked body as you fuck yourself, and his name slips from your lips so sinfully perfect.

Michael.

He groans. His cum sticks to his stomach, and it’s seemingly everywhere. He can’t do this again. It’s wrong.

All he wants to know is if he has the same effect on you, but you were the one who kissed him, you’re the one who keeps making moves, and he suspects he’s not so far off with his suspicions. But it’s dangerous territory he finds himself on, he realizes that now more than ever.

And the day hasn’t even started yet. So much could happen in a span of twenty-four hours, enough to change the course of everything. He’s not consistent like you, and his life is too messy.

On the other end of the city, you’re floating. It feels like it, anyway. When you come to work that morning, everything is perfect. Well, it’s not entirely perfect, but you’re somewhere on cloud nine and can’t be bothered with theatrics.

You serve every customer with an extra bright smile. Today though, you’re not being kinder than usual to make up for a bad day; you’re being nice because you’re happy. You feel fulfilled. The sun is out on the streets and especially, it is shining brightly into your heart.

“Have a wonderful day!” you tell the elderly woman who ordered your signature latte when you hand it to her, and she gives you a bright smile back in return.

It’s days like today that you live for.

Sarah cocks her head to the side. “Okay, what did ya smoke today?” she asks.

You stop humming the song that’s stuck in your head – whatever was on the radio this morning truly spoke out of your soul, and now the melody won’t escape you. “What?” you ask.

“Yer very happy today. Unusually chipper. Especially to the fuckers who are being absolute cunts in here. So ya either snorted a line of coke this morning or somethin’ exciting happened last night.”

You ignore her suggestive tone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm, sure. Ya have a glow surrounding you. Did ya finally get some cock last night?”

“Sarah!” You swat her playfully.

The customers in the café don’t need to know every detail about your sex life. You wish you had one, and you would probably glow just as much, but it was just a kiss. A kiss that makes you feel like you’re in another world, but still just a kiss.

You sigh almost dreamily. His mouth would surely feel even better all over your body. Attention to detail, you’re sure that might be his thing. It wouldn’t be the first time you fantasized about his hands or his mouth on you, but you don’t feel as comfortable doing it at work as at home in the privacy of your own bedroom.

“Seriously,” Sarah snaps you out of it again, “what is going on with you?”

You twirl and throw the towel over your shoulder. With a grin, you turn back to her. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you say.

“I do, that’s why I asked.”

“Can’t I just be happy?”

“If it’s about Mister Tall-And-Mysterious who came in the other day–”

You cut her off, “I have tables to clean.”

“Did he come in ya this time?”

“SARAH!”

Her laugh echoes through the room, the blush on your cheeks threatening to overtake every inch of skin it can find.

Grabbing a bowl of warm water, you make your way into the sitting area. Sarah’s eyes remain on you, and you can tell she’s suspicious. She won’t leave you alone until she’s got her answers, but you are still too happy to jinx anything; you would rather keep her guessing than gush about something that might shatter your heart sooner or later. For now, you want to be happy, and cloud nine is comfortable enough for that.

Your eyes flick to the clock almost anxiously, counting down the minutes to your lunch break. When it finally strikes twelve, you’re back behind the counter and you’re using the lack of business to use the coffee machine for your own purpose.

Sarah watches you as you brew some espresso on one end while pouring a perfectly balanced chai tea into two cups. You add the coffee and the fresh foam, a bit of cinnamon and caramel, and to top it off, you paint an actual butterfly on it with cocoa powder, and that’s when she knows that you’re not preparing coffee for another customer or yourself, even. You’re doing this for someone else.

You write the name on the cup in capital letters. “Perfect,” you murmur to yourself.

“Should I book that Dirty Chai on your account?” Sarah asks.

You cast her a knowing smirk and she returns it.

“Go get him, darling. One of us has to.”

With a quick yet cheery, “Thank you. Appreciate it!” You lose your apron, get your bag from the break room and head out into the busy streets, the two to-go cups balancing in your hands.

You go past the gas station next to the deli a little outside of downtown, and that’s when you spot the car dealer Michael mentioned, and the car wash that connects to it. To you, this is the best idea you’ve had in a while.

The jacket around your shoulders is his. You’re wearing a soft cardigan underneath; your skin is used to Dublin’s rather low temperatures, after all, so you can easily give the jacket back to him – although you considered keeping it that morning, and that thought is quick to reappear when you reach your destination. And then, you get nervous.

What if he doesn’t want to see you? What if you interpreted the kiss wrong? What if he thinks you’re crazy for remembering where he works? And what if he tells you to go to hell and you will never find someone as special as Michael again?

Now you’re overthinking and quite frankly, you know you’re overreacting, but damn it, you can’t stop the spiral your mind falls into, not even if you tried.

Getting what you want is so much harder in practice. Your thoughts have been all around him for a while now, but last night knocked it out of the park. Every living thought is about this man you barely know, and you woke up with the sudden urge to change that. You’re determined, and you are going to get what you want.

As someone always so focused on doing the right thing and pleasing everyone else, meeting someone who doesn’t know how to make the first step because he, himself, is caught up in shit you don’t quite understand yet is a challenge that forces you to come out of your shell.

You fidget with your dress. You hope the perfume you added before you left doesn’t smell like you’re trying too hard, and you send a prayer to a God you don’t believe that your hair isn’t ruined from the walk. The coffee is still hot, which eases your nerves a little, but you’re not even sure he’s going to like it – it’s a different take on coffee once again, one that you’re not sure if he’s going to like. Is he a tea person? If he’s not, he might not like it. What if he doesn’t? You’re going to look like such an idiot if he doesn’t like it and you came to his place of work just to bring him coffee that’s actually tea with toppings that don’t usually go into a Dirty Chai for nothing.

You don’t want to seem like you’re trying too hard, but it suddenly feels like you’re a walking groupie if not a stalker already.

No, you paid for these drinks, you painted a fucking butterfly onto the foam, which is a hard task to achieve, so you have to at least try.

You once again take a step toward him. Now quite literally.

Michael is engrossed in spraying down the Prius before him with a hose that he doesn’t see nor feel the curtain behind him shift. You watch him for quite some time, his sleeves rolled back and the rest of his clothing covered in wet splatters. His hair is disheveled. There is something tragically elegant about the way he looks, even when he’s a mess, and the flexing of the muscles in his forearm makes you sweat.

“So this is what you do all day,” you decide to speak up.

He almost loses control of the hose when your voice tears him out of the thoughts that were inevitably about you, too. He turns to look at you. You can tell he didn’t expect you to come.

“That looks even more exhausting than my job, and I have to talk to people.”

Your name rolls off his tongue in a stammer and his cheeks flush a bright pink as if you caught him doing something illegal, and you find yourself smiling shyly back at him because obviously, you’re not here to embarrass or hurt him.

Michael turns off the hose before it can wet you both, running a hand over his sweaty face. “You–” he collects his thoughts. “What’re ya doing here?”

You hope he didn’t mean to sound so harsh, or maybe he’s simply shy when it comes to you seeing this part of his life. You’re not sure, but you make sure to be a bit gentler from now on.

You step forward and lift the cups in your hands like an apology. “I remembered what you told me about where you work,” you admit, “and I thought it would be nice to bring the coffee to you, for a change. You know, since you can never know how busy work gets and you– well, not to make assumptions or anything, but you seemed to quite enjoy the coffee I made you. Daily ritual type of thing, you know?”

He frowns. “So ya came here instead of waitin’?”

“Yeah, I guess. I’m sorry, did I– I mean, did I misinterpret something? Did I go too far? Is this pushing boundaries? Should I not have come? I– I’m sorry if I broke any unspoken rules. That was never my plan. I just thought… well, maybe that’s the problem. I’m so sorry, I–”

“No!” Michael responds, cutting your rambling short in the process. He can see the blush on your cheeks and the slight quiver in your voice, signaling you truly believe you did something wrong. It seems to break your heart a little, and that is the last thing he wants.

He lifts his hand almost as if to calm you. “There are no rules and ya didn’t cross any boundaries,” he says. “I didn’t expect to see ya here, is all. I’m surprised.”

“Oh.” You hope he means it positively. “Sorry,” you say again.

“Not– not in a bad way. You… ya came here. Fer me. With coffee.”

You blush. “I did.”

He’s overwhelmed. Out of all the things he expected to happen, seeing you here was not on his list. You took the time out of your day to walk to him, and the thoughts that kept him awake at night reappear as soon as he sees your face; you’re wearing his jacket, still, and you still smell the same.

This is a bad, bad idea, but it’s impossible to deny that he’s caught a liking to you. He couldn’t push you away the way he knows he should. If anything, his desire to keep you close at all times grows further now that you’re right in front of him, coffee in hand, and he reminds himself that you’re here for him – it’s an honor, almost, that you would consider doing this for him; it’s an honor that you care about him. A curse disguised as a blessing. The temptation is sweeter than common sense because he knows his common sense can be wrong too, and you’re exactly what he needs. He no longer has the strength to deny it, especially not to himself.

“So stop apologizin’. It’s… sweet.”

Your blush deepens and it turns even your chest a distinctive red. “I also came to return your jacket,” you add when the silence grows awkward. You know talking too much will only make it worse, but you can’t stop yourself. You slide out of the item of clothing while trying not to disturb your drinks. “Coffee, a jacket, and some time. That’s what I can offer. If you don’t want to take it, that’s fine too, but–”

“Thank you,” he cuts you off.

“Oh… you’re welcome? I just thought it’d be nice.”

“It’s very nice, yeah.”

“I thought we could get to know each other more and… talk. That is unless you don’t want to, in that case, I’d apologize right away. I’m bad at reading signs sometimes. And I talk a lot. I don’t know how to shut up. I’m sorry.”

His eyes soften. He looks at you with newfound determination, and his words carry pure honesty. Michael steps forward to take the jacket from you, grabbing the coffee cup that has his name written on it in the same move.

“I can take a few minutes off,” he says.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding.

Staring into his eyes, you forget your name for a second. You were bold enough to kiss him the other day, but all that confidence seems gone now. Your fingers brush him when he takes his cup, and the shockwaves that the simple contact sends through your body make you dizzy.

He smiles, but he’s just as caught up in the way he’s feeling as you are, and the confusion leads to an inner turmoil that makes it hard to sort out what exactly it is that sets his heart on fire when he sees you so clearly now, and when his hands brush yours like he dreamed it would.

You’re wearing a dress again. It fits you perfectly. If you wanted to tease him, you should have just told him so because this is torture.

How can one man dance around his own feelings and not acknowledge them or try to change something about them? He’s a tough nut to crack.

You clear your throat. “I made you a Dirty Chai,” you say.

His eyebrows shoot up. “A Dirty Chai?” he asks.

“I know it sounds odd, but you know what chai tea is, right?”

“Right, yeah.”

“Do you like chai tea?”

“I’ve had one ages ago, but it was good.”

“Well, that’s a relief because while this is coffee, it’s also chai tea. It’s chai tea with espresso, milk, and some foam. Dirty Chai. Because it’s not pure–“

“The coffee makes it dirty?” he says.

You nod. “Exactly.”

“And is tha’–“ he sniffs the cup. “Cinnamon?”

“I noticed you like cinnamon.”

He wants to wipe that stupid blush off your cheeks. You look way too good, even in the dim lighting of the car wash.

“I also drew a butterfly into the foam,” you say, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

Sarah was right, you suck at flirting, and he probably thinks you’re insane now for how fast you’re talking. You’re a barista, you’re used to remembering orders, but you memorized his likes in particular and that just feels weird to you.

Though when you look at him, you’re met with an unexpected look of pure adoration.

Michael stammers, his cheeks flushing the same color as yours. He puts his jacket aside and lifts the lid to check on your painting – you didn’t expect him to do that. You’ve meant it as a nice gesture, but now he’s actually looking at it and he fills your heart with warmth and your tummy with butterflies. It sounds like destiny, almost.

His lips curl into a soft smile. The butterfly is as clear as day. You have a talent for all things that have to do with coffee, and no matter what you bring to the table, he finds himself in awe of your competence every time.

“That’s almost too beautiful ta drink,” he mutters to himself.

You look away.

“Thank you,” Michael still has his eyes on you, “that’s lovely.”

“You’re welcome,” you say.

He puts the lid back on. “Would ya like to walk with me?”

You smile, nodding along. “I’d like that very much.”

He guides you out of the slippery car wash back onto the street. You walk in silence as you sip your drinks, the sun shining down on you with only the softest touch of heat while the wind continues to rustle the leaves in the trees.

The awkwardness was to be expected. Neither of you has found the guts to mention the kiss, and now that you’re taking a stroll through the streets of a part of Dublin you’ve barely been to, you’re not sure if there is even a right time for you to say what you want to say – you’re not even sure what you are capable of saying any more.

Michael’s shoulder brushes yours and you shiver. He’s so close, your heart beats faster at his proximity. He wears the same cologne that is etched into his jacket, but he also smells like the soap he uses to wash the cars.

“So, yer a writer then?”

It surprises both of you that he’s the first to break the silence.

There’s a difference between pretending to be interested just to make conversation and being interested in what the other person has to say, and with Michael, it’s clear that it’s the latter. When he looks at you, his eyes always meet yours and he makes sure to tilt his ear in your direction so he can hear what you’re saying. He’s attentive. He cares. He doesn’t expect people to care about him, but he pays attention to everyone else and he shows when he’s interested, even if it’s not intentional. It makes you feel more comfortable talking about something that has often filled you with dread.

“Yes,” you say. “That’s right.”

“What do ya write?”

“Well, I tried my hand at a few things, but what I got stuck on the most were period pieces.”

“In the style of Jane Austen, ya mean?”

Your eyes light up. “That’s exactly it!”

“I figured,” he smiles. “I read sometimes and ya strike me as the kind of person who would would get inspired by Jane.”

He reads. It’s a small detail, a small piece of information that you will cherish forever because he opened another door in his heart to reveal it to you.

“Ya must be good then,” he continues, “if ya write stories set earlier in history, I mean. Not everyone can do tha’.”

You smile. “I have this, uh, old book collection at home,” you say, opening another window to your own heart. “It’s the first time I fell in love with a story from the past. Not just because it’s a classic, but because it drew me in. I wouldn’t consider myself a history buff, but there is something enchanting about stories told during that time that make me want to do the same.”

He hangs onto every word your say. He’s not much of a talker but he’s a good listener. He probably learned to be quiet in the past because maybe he was forced to, and now he sees the world, but he doesn’t say much about it. He only listens.

Your pinky finger brushes his as you walk a little closer to him. “Jane Austen’s stories have such a sad beauty. I love modern romance as much as the next person, but there is something about classic literature that makes me want to convey the same vibe and reimagine past times. And perhaps romanticize them,” you say. “Because life sucks sometimes and people need to romanticize every aspect of it, even if it’s just the past, you know?”

His focus remains entirely on you. He hums, telling you he understands, before forming a gentle smile. “Have ya ever thought about publishin’?” he asks.

“Thought about it, yes. But I’ve never even finished a book. I don’t have an agent or a publisher on the line ‘cause I haven’t come far enough yet. It’s the reason I work at the café now. A desk job wasn’t for me, but I can’t seem to find my footing when it comes to writing because I don’t know how to finish something I’ve started. It’s kind of an exhausting feeling, I have to admit.”

“Yeah,” Michael murmurs, “I know what that feels like.”

“It’s a lot more complicated than that. I used to let it tear me down, but with this job, I don’t see a reason why I should anymore. So I tried being more optimistic.”

“No, I get it. I can see tha’. Ya don’t strike me as a pessimist.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are ya apologizing?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, don’t. Not fer somethin’ like this.”

He stops and you halt your step, too. You find yourself right in front of him. His breath fans across your skin. He’s being nice to you today. Not that he’s ever been not nice, but it feels different today.

“I’m Michael–“ his hand stops halfway, hovering just above your cheek, “Kinsella,” he says.

He looks at you as if that’s supposed to ring a bell, but other than that it sounds familiar, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to react.

Your smile reappears fully; now you know who he is. At least his name. But your souls feel connected enough already to say that you know his essence, who he is inside, and not a single story from his past could ruin that. You see the person he is, nothing else matters. If only he could accept that.

“Okay,” you say, and you tell him your full name in return. He deserves to know.

He smiles almost sadly. “I hate washing cars,” he admits.

“I figured,” you say.

Between the two of you, there is a lot you have managed to just figure. There is a silent understanding that exceeds knowing all the details about the other’s life. You’re prone to romanticizing, but with Michael, there is a raw realness to it that has nothing to do with pathetically wishing things to be good. You’re good for each other. That’s the truth, and it’s the truth you should focus on.

And Michael Kinsella seems like an honest enough man to you that you feel like giving up would be the wrong choice, no matter how hard he is to get around.

“I was away for eight years.” He’s opening up without saying much, but it’s the truth nonetheless. “And then I came back and everythin’… changed. The place yer working at, the Butterfly Effect, I didn’t even know it was there until I found it. I used to frequent Mister and Mrs. Dunham’s coffee shop tha’ was there before ya, but that was eight years ago and there’s so much shit I don’t recognize. It’s like the air has been poisoned.”

With a confused frown, you ask, “What do you mean?”

His nostrils flare. He takes a deep breath. “Yer not like that,” he says.

“Okay?”

“Yer a breath of fresh air. I, uh, appreciate that. I think.”

You tilt your head. “Oh,” you breathe softly. Your palm meets his shoulder. “Well, you shouldn’t be breathing poisoned air, so I’m glad I’m not that.”

He glances at your hand.

The next question burns on your tongue. “Why were you away for so long?” you ask him then.

He stiffens under your touch and his eyes grow weary, almost vacant. You hit a nerve. Michael almost recoils. He knows you might, too, once you get to know who he truly is, and that’s what has him in a chokehold, and the fear makes it impossible for him to talk.

“Most of the time, people don’t just go away for eight years without a reason.”

You’re too curious for your own good.

“Wasn’t voluntary,” he says.

“What do you mean?”

“What I said.”

“Why is it–“ you kill the space between you and press yourself flush against him, “–that every time I think I’ve seen a glimpse of who Michael Kinsella really is, I still don’t seem to get you?”

“Because it’s dangerous out there, love.” This is the first time he’s called you that. “Honesty turns into a weapon that gets people hurt.”

“People you care about?”

“Yes.”

“And you care about me?”

Weakly, he nods again.

“Are you scared?”

“You’ve no idea.”

His vulnerable admission makes you reach for his cheek and cradle his face in your hand. He drops breathing. “You know, I am driven by this desperate need to get to know you,” you admit. The hairs on his face feel soft under your fingertips.

Michael closes his eyes. “Not a good idea,” he says.

He wants to tell you everything. You’re the kind of person who doesn’t have a single bone of judgment in her body and that’s dangerous. It could get you into a lot of trouble, and the thought of losing you is something he can’t bear.

You shrug. “I know, but there’s something about you…”

“What’s tha’?”

“I’m not sure, I just get the feeling that deep down, you just need someone to take care of you,” you say. Your hand still rests on his cheek and he nuzzles into your gentle touch. “That you want to be happy and leave your past behind, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

You’re tumbling dangerously close to an edge Michael might not be able to pull you away from, but you’re so close, he can’t push you away. You draw him in. And your words have never been more true. He wonders if he’s really such an open book, even if it’s just to you because you read him better than he understands himself.

“And talking about it to people helps, you know? Sometimes, you just have to let someone else in or you’ll never find true happiness.”

When have you become so wise? You often don’t take your advice, but it seems like the people around him don’t usually try to pull him out of the dark hole he’s in but rather force him to live with it, to be silent, to be shy, and that feels wrong to you. No one should ever have to feel this way, not even when they claim it’s their life.

Which Michael does, a lot.

“There’s things ya can’t understand,” he says.

“You’d be surprised at just how much I’m capable of understanding.”

“God, why do ya have to be so insufferable?”

“I don’t know,” you retort, “why do you?”

His chest heaves with a sigh. “We should go.”

As he turns to leave, you grab his hand and haul him back. “I don’t mind not knowing everything,” you try again, “but it would make things a lot easier.”

“I told you my name,” he says.

“I know.”

It’s just a name.

He shakes his head. “I don’t get it.”

“What?”

“You.”

“What about me?”

“Yer way too nice to a man like me,” his voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks. Michael’s face has fallen and his eyes glaze over with a sad darkness. The world is on his shoulders and he is slacking under the weight.

You want nothing more than to hold him. Your hands brush his shoulders again. He doesn’t flinch away, he stays.

“I just care, there’s nothing more to it,” you say.

He can’t put his feelings into words. The fact that you care fills him with a sense of being loved that he is not quite used to feeling. You’ve lit a fire in him. It won’t die. But the voices in his head often have a different plan.

“It’s okay to ask for help, Michael. You’re not alone.”

And then your arms wrap around him and you pull him close. He’s hesitant at first, the feeling overwhelming, but then his instincts kick in and he hugs you back. His head lands in the crook of your neck, clinging to you like you’re his lifeline, and you make sure to tighten your hold so he knows he’s safe in your arms – because he is. You’re a terrible fighter, but you can keep his heart safe. You can protect his soul the way he deserves. That, you can do.

This is different from the first time you hugged him. You were thankful back then. When you hug him this time, it’s more emotional, it’s intimate, and you get lost in each other’s arms for what feels like an eternity.

He pulls away with a heavy sigh. You look at him. “Are you okay?” you ask.

Michael can only nod.

Your hands move from his shoulders to his face again. You cradle his cheeks, and for a moment you’re scared of breaking him. He looks so fragile, his skin reminding you of the thinnest glass that might break if handled incorrectly.

He holds eye contact with you. Your eyes switch between his lips and the brown of his irises that look a lot more green in the sun, then back to his lips. You lean forward. This isn’t you; something deep inside of you is controlling you, compelling you to kiss him, and you’re too weak to fight the urge.

Your lips finally find his again and all the lights in your brain go out. They short-circuit.

His grabby hands find your waist, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. You’re not the only one who is eager today, but you’re too lost in the feeling of his soft, plump lips moving against yours in a fight for dominance to even care or pay attention to much more. He no longer wants you to take the lead; Michael presses his lips and body against yours with a force that catches you by surprise, and he catches you with his arms that function as a safety net.

You feel so alive. He holds the back of your neck with one hand while the other travels across your back and then high enough to brush the seam just below your breasts, and you gasp. You’re in public, but he’s relentless, and you’re forced to take what he gives you.

His hands are everywhere. It’s like he wants to memorize every inch of your skin, to brand you into his brain. Calloused fingers caress your bare thigh and your arms, his lips never wavering in their intensity or how skillfully they move against yours in a rhythm you both seem to know without ever having heard about it.

By the time you pull away to breathe, your lips are swollen, your pupils are blown wide and you’re sure his hands on your hips left their mark from how hard he was gripping the flesh.

You have to find your footing again. The distinctive haze that has found its way over the wasteland of your thoughts clouds everything in its path. It makes your knees go weak and your vision turns into a fog. His eyes are the only thing that manages to shine through.

Michael touches his lips almost as if he can’t believe it happened again. You never turn down a challenge. He’s convinced now that you want him and he wants you, but other than the physical aspect, he is scared of what it might mean, of what it might do to you, and how much more he can screw up in such a short amount of time, and he stands there like a statue, his thoughts turning into a destructive tornado that makes rational decisions impossible to make.

Your lips are as soft as he remembers them. Your hands in his hair felt like heaven. He got to touch your skin this time, and whatever he imagined this morning didn’t come close enough to what you truly feel like.

You run a nervous hand through your hair. “I, um—“ you lick your lips. “My lunch break is almost over,” you manage to say.

He slides his hands into his pockets. “Yeah,” he says, “Mine too.” Except Amanda might kill him because he doesn’t have an official lunch break.

“Did you like it?”

You’re such an idiot.

He blinks, flabbergasted. “What?”

“The chai! I meant the chai. Did you like it?”

“Oh! Yeah. I mean… yeah, it was grand. Thanks.”

“Good.” You adjust the straps of your bag. “That’s good,” you say. Your cheeks are redder than a rose at this point. “I’m glad you liked it.”

He nods. “Me too.”

“I liked it too. The chai. Dirty Chai. It’s a real success. People like it. But I also like other things, you know? It doesn’t have to be dirty. It can be dirty because dirty is better, but– well, I– about today, I mean, I–“

You should stop talking.

A silent curse slips your lips. “I have to go back to work,” you say. That’s not what you were trying to say, but it saves you the embarrassment.

Michael raises his hand, but the ‘Wait,’ that’s forming on his lips and the question for your number gets lost in translation. “Okay,” he says instead.

You expected more from him, but it’s clear that there won’t be coming much else from him soon.

“Okay,” you repeat. “Have a nice day, Michael.”

“Yeah, you too.”

“Thanks.”

He watches you leave with your head hung low and your steps a little faster than they were before. It doesn’t take long for you to disappear around the corner, leaving him standing there, pondering what could have been or should have been and what an idiot he had been.

He should have just asked for your number. He should have come out of his shell because it’s the same you have been doing for him consistently the past few days. You deserve someone who can take a step toward you, not someone who chickens out at the last second. You deserve someone better than him.

Michael crosses the street with a heavy heart. He shouldn’t have let you go. He returns to work with twice as many thoughts, and every time he closes his eyes, he can see your face clearly now. You haunt him in the best ways possible, but he suddenly finds himself scared of ghosts.

He’s not sure how much longer he can withstand the storm inside of him, but you deserve better than what he can give you, and that’s the kind of self-loathing he will continue to carry with him until he sees you again because he knows that when he does, he will only fail again.

Next door, unbeknownst to him, Amanda has been watching him through the window behind the cars. She saw him leave with you and the kiss unfolded right in front of her eyes like a bad movie. She doesn’t remember seeing your face anywhere before, and Michael hardly ever talks about his personal life, but you seem different. You seem normal. Someone who wears butterfly clips in their hair is not cut out for the kind of life he stems from, and Amanda grows suspicious.

A few seconds later, the line clicks. “It’s me,” she says, her eyes fixated on the now empty spot outside where you once stood. “Listen, I just saw somethin’ and I think… I think ya need to talk with your brother before he makes a mistake.”

Unbeknownst to Michael, a storm bigger than the one inside of his is brewing outside, and it comes in the shape of none other than his own family trying to take away the only sliver of hope he’s had since prison – and he is not prepared for that.

Tagging: @bellaxgiornata @loveroftoomanyfandoms @acharliecoxedfan @lina-mar @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella #kin #michael kinsella smut #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella fluff #no y/n #reader insert #coffee shop au #butterfly effect #mini series

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hwaitham · 1 month

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haico first date, pretty please! (from the challenge) ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ .

hiie manu dearest tusm for asking ! ! 🥺 mm let's see , haico first date . . our first " official " date after we enter a relationship isn't all that cute to be frank — we sort of hv a childhood frends -> strangers -> lovers arc so there are many instances before we start dating where we spend time together ﾉ go on dates :3

if anything , the first official date is vrie awks n gone terribly wrong . . . hehe ^__^;; he takes me to lambad's tavern after work for dinner + drinks n i so fortuitously make a complete fool of myself ( choke on my orange juice . . end up having an allergic reaction to my dinner n try to hide it from al haitham until he notices me itching at my skin n m lips swelling up LOL&^*)(&# ) our date ends up with him taking me to bimarstan so i cn get m epinephrine shot n be hospitalised for a few hours until the reaction subsides . . . >< it starts to get vrie late though so i tell him he cn go home n that he doesn't have to stay with me . . so he does . n then i start to overthink things n feel rllie bad n weep n weep n weep n i feel like i've messed everything up :C ! bcos ! ! this is the worst way a date could hv ever gone . . Especially the first one :C ! ! n i've made such a horrible impression :C !

i end up crying mself to sleep but am woken up not too long after haitham's left , only to see that he's come back (⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝ ྀི) this time with my plushie n favourite book in tow ! ! i'm roommates wif layla in our selfship before i move in w haithie ; he explains to me that he visited my house n got layla to bring him these things . . so that he cn take them back to the hospital n stay with me to keep me company T T

n then no matter how hard i try not to , i end up crying again lulul . . i am jus' ! so ! touched ! ! but also so so sad n guilty :C bcos i feel like such a burden . . . that al haitham had to lose so much sleep over me . n that he had to trek all the way to the other side of the city just to pick up my comfort items for me :C he didn't have to do all those nice things for me n at this point in our relationship , i assume that he is vrie much Not the type of person to go out of his way to do things for people . . so i tell him this . but then he responds with a little laugh n a flick of my forehead , saying that " you're absolutely correct , i don't go out of my way for others — i brought you your stuffed animal and favourite book so you'd feel more comfortable , which in turn would make me feel more comfortable . so , really . . . you could say i did it for myself . "

he is vrie obviously teasing , n i could tell it from how he smiles at me . . so softly n tenderly >< it's the type of gentle smile i've never seen frm him before ! ! n it is exactly at this point where i rllie get to realise + understand just how much he cares about me . . 🤍 haitham stays by m bedside until i'm free to be discharged — reading the storybook he's brought me n idly chatting n patting my hair while i nap :3 n when im as fit as a fiddle again ! he walks me home , hand in hand , while the sumeru sun is rising . . we end our date off with our first kiss ૮꒰ྀི ୨ ៸៸៸ ୧ ྀི꒱ა

ෆ selfship askies

#૮ ๑´ `๑ ྀིა ⌒ 𝓗𝓐𝓘𝓒𝓞 ⑅˚˖ ݁ ˓#WAUUGH i typed so much . . 😭 im sorrie!!!!

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overthinkingtaleblr · 9 months

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I have a sudden urge to write.

Toast. Running. Into. Werewolf. Hunters

Like some hunters roll into town, and as the locals have a friendly chat with them, one of them mentions that there's currently been a werewolf epidemic in some neighbouring states. While most have been taken care of, some managed to flee, so they're looking for any stragglers.

At some point P.I.E catches wind of this. Toast, while a little panicked, reassures himself that he'll be fine: he's dark-furred, can sniff them a mile away, and knows the area better! He can just avoid them and be fine!

Cut to Ghost getting woken up late at night by scrapping at the door and whimpering. He opens the door to a very injured Toast; his shoulder is bleeding heavily due to a bullet wound, and he's wheezing bad. It takes a long time to take the silver bullet out, and longer to treat the wound (as well as any lesser injuries he sustained) as best he can, but Ghost manages to bandage his shoulder, and calm Toast down from the adrenaline. (although he did end up with wolf sick on his lap that stunk of garlic and wolfsbane)

When it's morning hits and Toast changes back, he's borderline near dead from exhaustion, so he taps out while Ghost gets some fresh clothes before leaving for P.I.E. He can handle himself without Toast, Right? (Spoiler: barely) By the afternoon he wakes up and manages to throw up again (this time he got to the toilet and hurled in there), and after Ghost comes home and he has some water, he explained what happened. Turns out the hunters were very prepared.

During the night, be had stumbled upon a dead deer that looking back looked very suspicious, but he felt like was starving and, hey, you can't pass up on free food, so he dived in. He managed to eat a good amount, stopping because there was something thick smeared inside that was becoming hard to stomach and he felt not so great.

He stumbled on his way, feeling sicker and more sluggish as the night wore on. When he layed down to rest, he was about to fall asleep when he got shot at. The first bullet caught his ear, and the sluggishness and lingering drowsiness made it hard to react fast enough before the hunters caught up and pinned him down. He waited while they started talking about what to do with him and whenever to shoot him through the brain or heart, and took his chance when he felt the hands going slack.

During his escape, one hunter took aim at his head but hit his shoulder instead, which slowed him down, but was able to sprint all the way back to Ghost's place. He also apologizes for puking on him.

Ghost is just happy he isn't dead. They can't exactly do anything because considering what the hunters have at their disposal, they're definitely from somewhere higher up, and god knows the reproduction (living or dead) if Ghost tries to retaliate, so for now Toast will just have to stay low at full moons until the Hunters leave.

During those full moons, Toast is kinda miserable: he wants to run around and do stuff but he can't because he's injured and he might get spotted again, but Ghost does help with changing old bandages, getting food (and the odd jams) and just being there, so it's not as bad as it can be.

Then the Hunters start asking for anything related to "a large black canine". Oh no.

That's as far as I've gotten so feel free to add any ideas. :D

My idea is you should write this as a proper fic!! This is a Solid first few chapters laid out here and I’d love to see where it goes!

To open discussion for others to give their ideas and inputs, I’ll start ^^

Maybe toast isn’t the only black werewolf in the area, but something about them makes them completely innocent and undeserving of any pain, so this isn’t just about saving him, but the other person too.

Or maybe before really knowing the whole situation, PIE agrees with the hunters to do an intern swap— Yknow to give both groups of trainees more knowledge they otherwise wouldn’t get— and now Ghost and Toast are Down two very helpful interns and aren’t sure if they can trust the new ones.

OR MAYBE TOAST MANAGES TO BITE ONE OF THE HUNTERS!!!

That is all, everyone feel free to share your own ideas however small or large <3

#ementophobia #taleblr #johnny ghost #johnny toast #taleblr fic idea

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champagnepodiums · 2 years

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A More In-Depth Look into Charles Leclerc's IG Gains

If you've been following my blog for a while (or have just seen my posts), you know that Charles Leclerc's gains on IG have been astronomical. He started off with a bang with nearly a quarter of a million new IG followers in the first race weekend of the season and since then he has pretty consistently been the top gainer or in the top 2.

And I wanted to explore this a little deeper and look into when and why. I also want to tag on the general disclaimer that I'm giving my opinion on anything that isn't number-related and it is okay to disagree with me. One of my main goals here is to start conversations so if you don't agree with something or want to expand on a thought I have or add to it, please know you are welcome.

Anyways, I want to start by saying that the gains Charles is getting are not typical (apart from Lewis Hamilton).

By June of 2021 last season, Charles had gained about 440k for the entire season (so about 1M fewer followers than this year) and for the whole season, he gained approximately 1.6M followers. Mind you, we are only 7 races in this season and Charles is very close to surpassing 1.5M new followers.

So far this season, 57% of all of Charles' new followers have come during race weekends, that's ~834,734 followers of the total 1,459,618 (so far).

I went ahead and broke the numbers down further:

This chart shows you that of the race weekend total (834,734), what percentage of that was gained each race weekend -- and as you can see, Bahrain accounts for about 30% of what he has gained over race weekend and so on.

And I think a big reason that he's gaining so much on race weekends is that Charles is such a central player in the championship fight right now so he is getting a ton of attention and a ton of on air time so people are becoming curious about Charles.

And his social media is nice. I don't think it's like a gold standard but it doesn't have to be. His social media strategy isn't what is bringing these followers in. These new followers are coming in because of the on-air time but also, I think Ferrari's casual fanbase has been hibernating for a bit and they've all woken up to Charles' win in Bahrain especially and they just showed up in droves, eager for a glimpse of the new Ferrari golden boy.

Charles isn't like a super sharer on social media but he has these candid moments on Twitter usually that really seems to endear him to the masses and people talk about that and share that which comes into play. And he shows shots of his charmed life on IG and people love that content, it works well for him.

I've also noticed that Charles does a really good job of balancing the aesthetic of his IG feed with sharing glimpses into his life on his IG story which is an A++ in my books.

Max Verstappen gained somewhere in the ballpark of 3.5M last season (1.3M of that was gained when he won the WDC). Do I think Charles could reach/surpass that? As long as he stays in the championship fight all season, I think he'll surpass that easily.

Tell me, what do you think about Charles' social media. Do you think he does it well? Do you think he'll surpass Max's gains from last season?

#charles leclerc social media #charles leclerc #formula 1 #f1 #driver social media

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londonalozzy · 3 years

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Stop Pretending (TFATWS)

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst

Summary: The reader thinks she's doing a stellar job of keeping her feelings for a certain soldier buried deep inside. Turns out, all it takes is an observant new friend to begin the unraveling of her most precious secret (Spoilers for TFATWS)

Masterlist

Word: Pretence

Definition: A way of acting that is intended to deceive people.

Example: Saying that he's just a friend when he's really the love of your life.

Your POV

Being caught in the midst of war is something that I, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) know all too well. As a war vet, former shield agent, and now Avenger I'm used to being centered amongst conflict. When the fight begins within me though, a battle between what I want and what I think is right, how will I react? Will I listen to my heart, my head, or will the winner be chosen for me?

Delacroix, Louisiana.....

I love my sleep, always have, always will. It's not necessarily the comfort of the bed, the quiet or even the rest. It's the fact that I'm at peace when I sleep. My life has a tendency to fall apart when I'm awake, so anything that will put that off for as long as possible I savor.

I wish it were the same for a certain super soldier in my life. I look forward to going to bed, everything calms down then, and for most people it's the same. For Bucky however, it's when everything starts, the nightmares, the terrors, the seemingly unending darkness. If only I could take his pain away like he has with mine.

For the last few weeks, my life had, for want of a better word, been hectic. Hectic to say the least.

After the eventual defeat of Thanos and the loses we endured as a result, I thought naively that life might calm down a bit, that I'd have time to breathe, to live. How wrong I was.

It all began with John Walker being announced to the world as the new Captain America.

I was baking cookies with Morgan in the Stark family kitchen when it came over the radio. As that latest turn of events sunk in, my first thoughts were of Bucky, what that would do to him. Not even an hour later I had said my goodbyes and was on my way to help him get the shield back.

Since then even more had happened. We'd regrouped with Sam, busted Zemo out of prison which in turn ruffled the feathers of Ayo and the Dora Milaje. We came face to face with Morgenthou and the Flag Smashers, and finally witnessed the man who thought he could even compete with Steve, make himself judge, jury and most significantly executioner.

After that went around the world we knew we had to end it sooner rather than later. It couldn't get much worse than Captain America becoming a murderer. We got the shield back, which was a fight all in itself. Handed Zemo over to Ayo, to try and recompense for the distrust we'd instilled in the people who'd helped us so much. Then we travelled to stay with Sam and his family in Louisiana whilst we waited for Karli's next move.

This is where we found ourselves now, in the eye of it, the calm before the storm.

Waking up in the Wilson households guest room, I was greeted to the golden hue of the rising sun penetrating through the single glaze windows, and the melodic sounds of gulls on the hunt for their morning meal down by the docks.

Actually, no that's not right. What I could hear was most certainly not birds, and it was definitely not melodic. What were those boys doing?

Quickly and quietly I threw on the first clothes I could get my hands on and made my way downstairs towards the noise. What caught my attention when I discovered the source, was not the two youngest Wilson boys playing with our newly reacquired shield in the living room, but the super solider who was blissfully ignorant to it all, sleeping peacefully on the couch in front of them. I don't think I'd ever been so happy.

"Right you two, if you're determined to play Avengers all morning then I suggest you re-assemble in the back yard. You're gonna wake Bucky up," I whispered out in one breath, stepping between the boys, then placing my hands on their backs and tip toeing them towards the door.

"So what if we wake him up? It's gone 10am," Cass questioned in protest, pulling on his sneakers and jacket.

"Exactly! Which is why if you do as I say, I will make you the biggest plate of waffles for breakfast that you've ever seen."

The boys eyes lit up. "Can we have ice cream with it? Mum never lets us have ice cream for breakfast, and I'm sure there's a tub of Stark raving hazelnuts in the freezer," AJ clapped in muted excitement. "Oh, for God's sake.....Yes. You can have whatever you want if you get out of this house now and keep the noise down."

Once the boys were outside, I made my way over to the kitchen, stopping on the way to lean over my favourite senior citizen and make sure that he was still peaceful in his slumber. He'd never looked so relaxed, so at ease. It was a brand new Bucky I'd never seen before, a Bucky that had my heart pounding for him even more than it normally did. Not that he knew any of that.

Half an hour later and up to my elbows in waffle mix, I failed to notice my new friend and host Sarah making her way to my side at the counter, the huge smile on my face not going unnoticed. "What's got you grinning like the Cheshire cat, like I need to ask?"

"Bucky's sleeping. Isn't it amazing?" I spoke softly, bouncing up and down on my feet as I did so.

"And why is that?" She couldn't looked more confused if she tried.

"In all the years I've known him, I don't think I've ever woken up before he has. If his nightmares don't keep him awake all night, they normally have him up before the crack of dawn. I don't think I've ever seen him so still."

"Good answer," Sarah nodded in a hush, understanding why this meant so much to me, but not done yet with her morning interrogations, "Now on to my next question......"

"I'm already not liking the sound of this."

"Sleeping Beauty over there follows you around like a little puppy dog. He hangs on your every word, looks at you like you hung the stars or something. It's pretty obvious how crazy he is about you, so when are you gonna stop pretending that you're not head over heels in love with him?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Wilson," I smiled forcefully, making out like the waffle maker deserved my attention way more than the conversation I was being made to have.

This was all Sam's doing, without a shadow of a doubt. He'd tried to have this conversation with me on multiple occasions and I shut him down every time. He obviously hadn't given up like I thought he did, and decided to draft in his sister. He is seriously gonna regret it when I find him.

"Sure you know what I'm talking about. Sam sees it, I don't even know you that well and I see it. The only reason Bucky doesn't, is because he doesn't believe he could ever be that lucky. You're a smitten kitten." These Wilson's are all as annoying as each other.

Knowing I wasn't getting out of this one, I grabbed Sarah by the arm and pulled her right into the corner of the room, trying my best to keep this convo as private as possible. "Look, I'm not pretending.....I'm ignoring. There's a difference."

"Care to explain what that difference is?" Sarah spoke softly, but with a sarcastic air.

Turning to look over my shoulder at the subject of our conversation, making sure he was still safely in the land of nod, I decided to just be honest. Sarah was much like her brother. Once she wanted to get to the bottom of something she wasn't about to give up.

"I love Bucky, more than I've ever loved anyone...and that terrifies me," the rawness of finally being honest making my voice shake, and tears come to my eyes. "Nat was like my sister, and she's dead. Tony was the closest I've ever gotten to having a Dad...and he's dead too. Then there's Steve, Vision, God knows where Wanda is....Everyone I love, either leaves or dies. If I admit my feelings for Buck then I face the risk of losing him too."

"Do you have any idea how crazy you sound right now? He's not going to die because you love him (Y/N)."

Silent tears were falling now. I was revealing my deepest fears to a woman I'd only known a few days, and I'm not underplaying it when I say it was like a colossal weight off my chest, a release I didn't know I needed. "Believe me...I know, but I can't take that risk. I can't lose anyone else, especially not him."

"Let's just say for a second that you're right, that there is some higher power somewhere, set on destroying everyone you love. Do you really think ignoring your feelings is going to make them disappear?" I didn't know what to say to that. "Natasha and Stark died so that everyone could continue living, and (Y/N) you're not living as long as you keep this to yourself. They wouldn't want that for you."

"But what if I lose him?" I whispered with a choked sigh.

"Then at least he'll die knowing how you felt about him. After everything he's been through don't you think he deserves to know there's someone out there who loves him like you do?"

"Of course..."

Sarah's lips pulled upwards in a satisfied smirk, wrapping her arm around my shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze, "then you owe it to yourself, and to him, to tell him the truth."

"Why do all you Wilson's have to be so clever?" I voiced in mock irritation, pushing her away from me and acting like I was annoyed she had gotten one up on me.

"I don't know," she thought aloud and with a cheeky grin, grabbing a plate to start piling on the long forgotten waffles, "I think it might be the sea air or something."

"Nah, it's in the genes," I chuckled quietly, grabbing my jacket and deciding it was time to get this conversation wrapped up. "I'll go find Sam and the boys for breakfast. Clear my head a little bit."

"You promise you're gonna tell him?" Sarah stopped me as I went to push the door open.

"I'll think about it."

3rd person POV

Once (Y/N) was out of ear shot, Sarah couldn't help but start jumping up and down in excitement, clapping her hands loudly as she did so. That went even better than she thought it would, and she was so proud of herself. Sarah Wilson could now add matchmaker to her resume.

"Coast is clear Barnes. You can open your eyes now."

(Y/N) had no idea what she had metaphorically walked into just minutes earlier, entering that very revealing conversation with her overly inquisitive host.

What drew Sarah to come down that morning was the sounds of both the front porch door opening and the smell of homemade waffles wafting up the stairs. As she entered the kitchen she was met with two sights. One being (Y/N), facing the counter and looking very smiley, the other being a wide awake super soldier who was just laying on the couch and staring at her, the sole object of his affection. Sarah could work with this.

Every time (Y/N) turned back in his direction, Bucky would close his eyes and pretend to be asleep again. He had never slept so soundly, so peacefully, thoughts of (Y/N) and his new friends filling his nightmare free dreams.

He'd initially woken to (Y/N) ushering the boys outside because she was afraid they would wake him up. He didn't want to disappoint her by proving her right. Besides, he liked just watching her move around the kitchen, completely unaware he was observing her the whole time. He had no idea about the conversation that was just about to happen.

After (Y/N) had left and Sarah had confirmed so, Bucky sat himself up, his body shaking with adrenaline and a look of complete shock fixed on his face. Had he definitely woken up, or had the whole thing been a part of his dream? Did (Y/N) seriously just admit that she was in love with him?

Bucky didn't know how to react, didn't know what to say as he looked up at a smug Sarah from his spot. All he'd ever wanted was for (Y/N) to feel the same way about him as he did about her. Now he knew that she did.

"You're welcome by the way."

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kindnessisweakness · 3 years

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YOU WERE A BET -- Part 2!!

I had a lovely person message me and ask for a part 2 so here it is! Hope you enjoy!

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Tears burned behind my eyes as I tried to hold them in. Rushing around what was mine and Angels shared room I tried to pack 2 years worth of belongings into my suitcase. Quickly ripping my clothes from the hangers in the wardrobe, I could care less if they broke, I needed to get out of here. A small thud made me stop in my tracks. Turning to throw the clothes in my hands on to the bed I reached down to pick up the small box. I couldn't stop the sob that wracked through me as I opened the lid. Photos stared up at me, almost mocking me with their happy smiles. 2 years worth of momentos filled this box. Cinema tickets, concert passes and funfair wristbands littered the top of the red felt lining. She kept all of them as a keepsake. Memories were important. Something to remember her and Angels time together. This box used to make her smile fondly when she opened it. Made her fill with love and think how lucky she was to have a boyfriend like Angel. Now all it did was fill her heart with pain and her eyes with tears. How could it have all been fake? How could he do this to her? Everyone told her she was foolish for believing he would want her. She felt foolish now. Embarrassed even. She let her heart rule her head. Let Angel fill it with hope and sweet nothing's. And here she was left holding the baby, just like her mother said she would be. Pulling a photo from the box she couldn't help the faint smile that spread over her lips. It was one of her favourite memories of their relationship. Bonfire night at the clubhouse. The first one Angel convinced her to attend. She could hear his voice now. "Come on, Mi Dulce. You'll love it." Glancing at there shared bed she remembered just how easy it was for him to convince her. To make her weak and pull her under. He was right, she did love it. Wrapped in a blanket sat in Angels lap, mug of hot coco warming her hands has they laughed watching coco and Gilly argue over who was going to set the first firework off. EZ Worriedly shouting about safety precautions as they fought over the lighter. That was the first time Angel told her he loved her, surrounded by the club and family as the fireworks went off. Letty captured the meaningful moment of them kissing as blue and green fireworks exploded in the background. And to think, all that happiness was a lie. It's all over.

Angel quickly paced back and forth in front of the clubhouse bar. "What am I gonna do?" Ez shook his head as he looked at his brother in disgust. "I knew you were fucked up, but not this bad". Angel sneered at him "Sorry Ezekeiel not all of us can be the favourite. You don't know what it's like to always be second choice. To have nobody be proud of you-" Ez cut him off fire in his eyes as he slammed Angel back in to the bar, Y/Ns cake falling to the floor. "You fucking had that! Y/N always chose you! You fucked up and threw away the best thing that ever happened to you! Stop the self pity and grow the fuck up Angel. All this shit about me being mom and dad's favourite, you can't keep using it as an excuse to justify your shitty behaviour". Bending down Ez picked up the scan photo that lay on the floor among the crushed chocolate cake. Handing the photo to Angel he looked sadly at his brother. "You're gonna be a good dad Angel, a family of your own is all you've ever wanted. Go and grovel and get your girl back. You can fix this." Smiling at his brother Angel held the scan photo tight and headed towards the door. Felipe's voice made Angel Pause. "Don't fuck it up Angel. You'll regret it for the rest of your life"

Pulling the zip of the suitcase shut I tried to lift it from the bed. After a few minutes of struggling I managed to get the case on the floor. Quickly pulling the uncomfortable dress off i changed into a pair of grey sweats and a baggy hoodie. I had a long drive ahead of me and needed to be comfy. Placing the memory box on the bed I grabbed the suitcase and headed for the door. Pulling it closed behind me I headed towards my car. My heart felt heavy. I remember when Angel asked me to move in. He was so nervous it was adorable.

{Flashback}

Laying on my side I sighed as I watched Angel sleep peacefully. I hated when I stayed over when I had work the next morning. I had to get up 2 hours earlier so I could drive home shower and pick up my work things. Groaning quietly I pulled myself from the warm bed, grabbing my clothes from the floor. A squeal left my lips in Suprise as a hand shot out pulling me back on the bed. Laughter left my lips as Angels form appeared above me. He looked so good, even when he's just woken up. How is that possible? I'm pretty sure I look like a homeless woman right now. "Don't go baby. Stay in bed with me. Call in sick" he begged as he pressed kisses to my neck. "As tempting as that is I have to go home to get ready for work." Sighing he lay back on the bed as he watched me get ready to leave in silence. "Will I see you tonight? Your gonna stay over again yeah?" He broke the silence. I shook my head disappointed. " No sorry baby I have a meeting to prep for tomorrow. Plus I have an even earlier start so id have to leave early hours of the morning so I could go home and get ready." Angel fell silent again as I packed my overnight bag back up. I could feel him watching me as I moved around the room. Zipping the bag closed I turned to Angel. Leaning over him I placed a kiss on his forehead "bye baby I'll see you in a couple of days". Angel wrapped his arms around me tightly. "Stay. Move in with me." Pulling back to look him in the eyes I was suprised. "Seriously?" Smiling wide Angel nodded. "I want you here with me baby. All the time. I hate it when you leave and I have to come home to an empty bed. I hate going days without seeing you. Please baby. I want nothing more than to have you live with me. I want to come home to you every day." Nervousness crossed his face as I stayed silent. "Y-you don't have to decide n-now. I-i-it was j-just an idea. F-forget I said anythi-" I've never seen angel so worried before. I cut him off a smile spreading over my lips. "Ofcourse baby. I'd love to take that next step with you!" Grinning Angel opened his bedside draw. "I already got you a key cut" his cheeks tinged pink as I giggled.

The sound of an engine cut the happy memory short. Unlocking my car I opened the boot just as Angel pulled into the driveway. My chest constricted painfully as I made eye contact with him. God, i dread to think what I look like from all the crying. "Wait Y/N don't leave! Talk to me!" Scoffing as I tried to lift the heavy suitcase into the boot of my car. The heavy bag fell to the floor as I failed. Angel was quick to grab the handle of the case, stopping me from leaving. "Talk to you? Why would I want to talk to you? You and me are done Angel. You won your bet. Games over!" Shaking his head Angel broke down. " No, No you have to listen! Yes it all started as a bet. But I love you! You have to believe me. You were always too good for me. Youre fucking amazing and so smart. I was fucking terrified to admit I liked you. Coco and Gilly could see through me. That's why they bet me, they knew I hate to turn down a challenge. Fuck I've never looked at another girl twice since I took you on that first date. Ask Vikki I've not been anywhere near her house of whores since we got together. You're it for me Y/N" his eyes were rimmed red from all the crying and Y/Ns heart broke seeing him like this. "Don't leave me. please. Your the best thing that ever happened to me" pulling the scan photo from his pocket he have Y/N a teary smile. "And this is the second best thing. You're my world Y/N. I want nothing more than to be a family. I'll spend the rest of my life making up for this. Just give me a chance." Angel was all but on his knees begging. "This isn't how I expected this reveal party to go. I feel like everything has been a lie. How do I know this isn't another game? How do I know your telling the truth?" Shaking her head y/N rubbed the falling tears from her cheeks . "I think it's best if we give eachother some space. I'll be in touch about doctors appointments and checkups. I won't keep you from your child Angel." Lifting her case into the boot successfully this time y/N made her way to the drivers side. With one Last look towards a broken Angel she climbed in and drove away. Angel sobbed like a child as he watched the love of his life and unborn child drive away. With one Last look towards the dark sky Angel did the one thing be hasn't done in years. Putting his hands together he fell to his knees.

"Please mum. I need to make it right. Give me another opportunity to hold her and I'll never mess it up again" Angel prayed hard to his mum for forgiveness, guidance and hope for his little family to be together again.

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Well guys there it is! I have an idea for part 3! Let me know what you think. Hope you liked it!

#angel reyes x reader #fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #angel reyes #mayans imagine

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classysassy9791 · 3 years

Text

Fandom: Inuyasha Genre: Romance/Humor/Fluff Pairing: InuKag Rating: T

The conclusion for this little fic that has waited 6 years for completion. Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Thank you to @akitokihojo for being such a stellar beta for this fic, and helping it come to its completion. Couldn't have done it without you!

For @inukag-week Day 6: Transformation.

Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l

Part 4 Word Count: 2,000

Can also be found on FFN and AO3

It had been a very long time since Kagome had experienced a hangover.

The buzzing in her brain soon became too much to ignore as it beckoned her to consciousness. She opened her eyes to the dimly lit room. Sunlight peeking from beneath the closed curtains indicated it was daytime and she silently thanked herself for being smart enough to close them before leaving her apartment the evening before.

Kagome wrapped the duvet around herself and tried to grasp a hold on the fleeting darkness of unconsciousness. She knew nothing would cure a hangover except time, and she would rather spend it floating through dreamless sleep than deal with the repercussions head-on. Waves of nausea added to her misery and she could faintly smell whiskey with each exhale - a scent that was intoxicating last night, yet this morning it only caused her stomach to twist further.

Her phone pinged with a message, but she didn't dare even try to reach for it, the annoyingly bright glare of her phone not exactly something she wanted to sabotage herself with. As the minutes passed by, she became more acutely aware of her brain feeling like it would swell beyond the capacity of her skull, and her dehydration became too obvious to ignore. Her tongue felt like cotton as she licked her dry, cracked lips. Damn, why did the morning after always have to remind her of what a bad decision the night before was?

She squinted and finally set her gaze on her nightstand. A surprising wave of relief washed over her. Drunk Kagome must have had an intelligent moment, for on her nightstand stood a bottle of painkillers and a glass of water. As quickly as she dared, she propped herself up on one elbow, trying to ignore the slight spin of the room, before greedily popping two pills and finishing the water. Even so, her thirst was far from quenched.

As Kagome tried to sort through her memories of the night before, she quickly registered that she had no memory of coming home last night. The last, clear recollection she could come up with had her sitting at the bar with Inuyasha and sharing a shot with the bartender.

"Shit," she groaned, hanging her head before precariously pulling her legs from beneath her blanket. Blacking out from drinking had been a favorite past time of hers back in her early college days. It wasn't because she didn't know her own limits when it came to being intoxicated, but back then, she simply didn't care. Drinking had been her favorite vice when it came to dealing with the pressures of school, boyfriends, and girl drama. It had been years since she had felt the need to get obliterated so completely.

Finally finding her courage, Kagome reached over and unlocked her phone. The red battery sign at the top meant it was almost dead, so she quickly scrolled through all the alerts on her phone. There had been way too many messages and missed calls from Hojo, which triggered the memory of the picture she had sent him. Her nausea increased ten-fold. Regret was a spiteful bitch.

Hojo was going to be the afternoon's problem. Maybe even tomorrow's problem. All Kagome knew was that it wasn't going to be a now problem.

Kagome plugged in her phone and once she was on her feet, the room swayed, almost causing her to lose balance. She stumbled out into the hallway to her bathroom to relieve herself. When she finished, she washed her hands and splashed cold water on her face just to feel something refreshing. The person's face who greeted her in the mirror no longer resembled the glamorous girl of the night. Only a woman's face awash with guilt, a wrinkled set of pajamas, and hair that was far from attractive.

From the other end of the apartment, Kagome suddenly heard a key turning in her front door. Immediately, she felt panic rise in her throat, eyes going wide. No one had a key to her apartment, not even Hojo, so unless she had been robbed last night - which she very may well have considering she had very little memory of it - no one should be coming over.

She swallowed thickly against her cotton throat and grabbed the first weapon at her fingertips - a plunger. Yeah, she wasn't winning any awards for being clever, but she was hungover and scared for her life.

Kagome crept down the hallway toward the front door and nearly lost her breath at who she saw standing in her entryway. The man from the bar last night - Inuyasha? - was making his way to her kitchen with a carrier filled with coffee and a bag from her favorite breakfast joint down the block.

"Good morning," he greeted casually, not at all thrown off by her presence as he set down his packages on the counter. "I brought you breakfast."

Rage and astonishment swelled in her chest. "What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?!"

He winced and held his hands over his ears before turning to glare at her. "If you could wait until after eight in the morning to start yelling, I'd really appreciate it."

"You didn't answer my question," she seethed, wide eyes sweeping the rest of the apartment for evidence as to what exactly happened last night?!

Inuyasha studied her from across the room and laughed at her dumbfounded expression. "Did you think I was a burglar or something? What's with the plunger?"

Kagome looked down at the plunger she held in his direction like a sword, and felt a blush bloom across her cheeks. She hurriedly hid it behind her back. "W-What was I supposed to think?"

He simply rolled his eyes. "Do you want breakfast or not?"

She bit her lip, but couldn't deny the ravenous hunger eating away at her stomach. Probably half the reason why she was so nauseous. Without saying another word, she slipped back into the bathroom to put away her weapon before meeting him in the kitchen. The sweet aroma of coffee and fresh bagels greeted her. She could've kissed him all over again.

"I didn't know how you liked your coffee, so I got cream and sugar just in case."

Kagome slowly sat down in the chair across from him, watching him slather some cream cheese on his bagel and drink his black coffee. She racked her brain as to exactly why Inuyasha was in her apartment, and then flashes of the night before came rushing back, of sloppy passionate kisses and tangled sheets.

Her heart dropped to her stomach.

Inuyasha studied the array of emotions that flickered across her face while he slowly chewed his bite of bagel and then swallowed. "Kagome, how much do you remember of last night?"

She bit her lip, shameful eyes lifting to his. "Um, well…" Her gaze fell to her person, realizing she was no longer wearing the sequined black dress she had gone out in. All the evidence pointed to a girl she wanted no relation to, making decisions that were very, very regrettable.

"We didn't sleep together."

Kagome's eyes flew to Inuyasha's, his deep voice quelling her fears. "We-We didn't?"

Amber eyes watched her carefully before turning back to his bagel. "No, we didn't. I'm not the kinda guy who beds a girl when she's drunk. Not my style."

A breath Kagome didn't know she had been holding escaped her lips. She had never been the type of girl to have one-night-stands. Her friends always teased her about it, but it was something she prided herself in. Having sex with someone wasn't something she did on a whim. She wanted to know she meant more to someone than an easy lay.

Her brows furrowed as she sipped on her coffee. "If we didn't sleep together, then why are you here?" she questioned. It would've been one thing if she had woken up with a naked man in her bed and kicked him out because of sheer embarrassment. It was another thing entirely that a man she didn't sleep with would bring her breakfast in the morning.

Inuyasha shrugged. "I was too tired to get another ride home last night, so I slept on your couch."

Kagome glanced over the breakfast bar to see a blanket and pillow on her couch as evidence that it had been occupied the night before.

"You know, you probably shouldn't drink so much."

She threw him a glare. "Did I ask for your judgement?"

He shrugged. "I'm just sayin'. Letting a stranger take you home because you're too drunk isn't exactly attractive."

Kagome scoffed. "Oh, thanks for the help," she snipped sarcastically. "What would I've done without you?"

Inuyasha grinned. "Probably throw a party to celebrate my absence."

"Probably, yeah," she hotly agreed. "I would've been just fine on my own."

"Maybe."

She frowned, flashes of last night starting to come back. They had been two heartbroken strangers in a bar who found comfort in their shared misery. Under the neon flashing lights and upbeat techno music, they gravitated toward one another like moths to a flame. But by morning they had transformed; she no longer represented the alluring woman who bewitched him, and he no longer appeared as the mysterious man who captivated her.

Now, she was simply Kagome Higurashi - a woman who was dumped by her fiance and had a mile-long to-do list regarding cleaning up their frayed relationship. And he was simply Inuyasha.

Kagome inwardly cringed. She didn't even know his last name. Or what he did for work. Or anything about him really.

Just fucking great.

"Look, Inuyasha," she began, setting down her coffee. "I appreciate everything you, er, did for me, but-"

"When we're done here, we should go on a real date."

Her mouth fell open. "What?"

Inuyasha shrugged. "Why not?"

"You have got to be joking," Kagome said while shaking her head. "One-night stands are literally just for one night, and we definitely would not work out."

He grinned. "Damn. That's a quick deduction there."

Kagome blushed. "I just mean that, last night… it was great and all, but…"

"It's daytime and the whole world's changed?" Inuyasha finished for her.

She sighed and looked away. He was right. Things were different. Last night didn't happen often for her, and bringing home a guy to her apartment never happened. If it were up to her, she'd stuff last night in a box as a precious memory and then forget it ever happened.

"I'm not saying I'm over Kikyou."

Kagome met his gaze. His eyes locked onto her, and held not an ounce of mirth. He was serious about this. He wanted to see if this could become something.

"And I doubt you're over your ex-fiance," he continued. "But, last night was fun. You're different and piss me off to no end-"

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

He sighed and after a moment finally stood up. "Look. You seem like a great girl. But I'm not one to beg. Thanks for the couch." Slipping his phone into his back pocket, he turned to leave.

"Inuyasha, wait!" Kagome called as she chased after him.

Dammit. This guy was so infuriating! He insulted her, and called her names, and angered her enough to make her slap him upside the head. But he also made her laugh, and feel alive, and made her want to kiss him again and again.

She couldn't deny that she wanted to see him again.

Grabbing his elbow, she made him stop in his tracks and look over his shoulder at her. "What?"

"This…" she started, fumbling for the right words. "This is never going to work. You and I."

He gave her a lopsided smile. "I'll pick you up at six."

And then he was gone, closing the door behind him.

Within a moment of him leaving, Kagome realized something: Meeting Inuyasha was either going to be the best luck she ever had, or the very worst. At least, on the bright side, he had already witnessed her at her lowest.

How bad could it be?

#inuyasha #kagome #inukag #fanfiction #inuyasha fanfiction #inukag fanfiction #inukag week #sassy stays classy #my fanfiction #double shot of heaven

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syubub · 3 years

Text

ENERGY CHECKUP: YOONGI (again)

Now, I know I've already done an energy check up on yoon but I wanted to see how he was doing now that he's gotten his shoulder surgery!

Disclaimer time: tarot is not to be takes as fact and is my interpretation if the cards :) entertainment purposes only~

SHIT IS STRANGE (it is Yoongi though so I'm not too shocked)

So. For starters, his energy is pretty calm and chill. He's also a bit more quiet?

I wrote a note that tomorrow is exciting... idk I wrote it down and I'm not sure if its exciting for him or for us? Maybe its just a general like, "tomorrow is a good day" type thing.

Now. 11... I wrote this down and I'm not sure why though I believe that he might be seeing 11:11 on the clock or possibly that something exciting is happening for him at 11:11 (I just checked and thats in like an hour and a half from when I'm writing this down(( update i just finished writing the whole post and it is about 11 minutes away)) idk. I make no promises but I wrote it down so there you go.

I also kept seeing plants and I'm not sure if people got him flowers or plants as a "get well" type thing or maybe he's stressing bc someone has to water his plants lol

Okay. Okay. Hear me out. Black bean noodles. It popped into my head and I was told to write it down but I'm also really hungry so take that with a grain of fucking salt. (I even pictured a nice elaborate bowl that was red as well as the take out container. Yum. Send me noodles)

MOVING ON

Here's the actual reading lol. He is bored.

Thats all. Thank you for coming.

I joke. The cards give me a kind of frazzled feeling? Its the struggle of knowing hes done something good but it comes at a cost. Yoongi works. A lot. All the goddamn time. So what now? He's having this shake up thats forcing him to deal with stuff. Him having this surgery also may have brought back some less than favorable memories/ feelings that hes being forced to deal with now. Over all though he feels like its good. The 6 of wands makes me think that he's thinking of our response when he comes back. Its like he's gonna be so much more confident in himself and his dancing and he can finally move on from the car accident? It happed so long ago but he literally carried this burden with him. Its good. The wheel of fortune and is about a change and the 8 of swords is about self imposed restriction, imprisonment and over all bad/ negative feelings. I pulled the wheel of fortune first and asked what was changing and that was the 8 of swords. This surgery is helping to free him from this restricting, painful thing that may have been reminding him of the past! YES HEALING

Now. For this section I just kinda asked "whats up?" And got, easy does it, divine life purpose l, balancing masculine and feminine energies and uplift your thoughts. He may be resting but he's got his mind working on 3,000 my dude. Its the regular "yoongi is woke af" bullshit but damn. The cards say what they say. He's preparing. I'll come back to this.

Now the 7 of cups and the 3 of swords. I asked how he felt about missing out on promoting. He's heart broken with the 3 of swords. It genuinely pains him. And with the 7 of cups he might feel like there's a lot of ways this can play out and he's considered a lot of options.

I was curious how he felt about me coming into his energy so I asked him what he thought of me. Lol. These each came out separately. We got, 2 of cups, four of wands, the empress, justice, the magician, the sun and the lovers. Ha

So. To add to the mood setting my guide said "he's a drama queen" lol yeah he is.

So so so so so. I was confused? Still am a little confused but I'm like 80.9% sure that he isn't bothered by me poking around in his energy n shit. In fact my theory is that he's using this connection to his advantage? Lol sounds dumb but my best guess is that home boy sees my energy/ what I'm doing as a way to figure out his own shit? Idk maybe he thinks I'm his energetic therapist. Maybe even a matchmaker (I mean... I have been putting a lot of energy and work into finding/ connecting with his soulmate so maybe he's letting me do all the dirty work) I really don't understand but I got no further explanation.

Oki oki oki. Now. I was drawn to 2 books. The kybalion and the prophet. I asked yoon if there was any messages that we wanted to point out through the books and I got a number for each book so I took it as page numbers. 28 for the prophet and 54 for the kybalion

Take what you will from these if it calls to you. I haven't read these since I was around 13? The sentiments for each felt important to me so I'm curious what you all might think/ feel when reading these? ( I also get the feeling that Yoongi has read the prophet idk why)

Okay. At this point I was like cool, let's wrap this up but I need to talk about his pjs? Green/grey? Plaid pj bottoms don't ask me don't ask me don't ask me I don't know but It wouldn't go away so I had write it down? Help.

I had written yoongis brother down too. Theres something about him? I'm not sure what but thats all I got lol

I was very strongly told that I needed to remember 7, that its important. Got it. Worth it down.

Oki. As I was going back to the platform blah blah blah the string turned blue too. The cord is usually white or silver but it was blue so that was a fun thing and then I was like "nice. Cool. Thanks. This was awesome, get healthy blah blah" and go to leave/ end the connection but the cord wouldn't go away.

???

What.

Then the string (idk if I said but that string shit is like on the third eye? Its connected to my forehead and his too.) Kind tightens.

I'm like, "oh shit."

Listen. Usually everything is smooth and nice and I just leave.

All is well though bc my guide is like, "stop being a little bitch" so I just let it happen.

Yoon shoves me back off the edge of the platform. Why he gotta be like that?

Now. This is strange. I had dropped down into a library.

Y'ALL

I almost shit my fucking pants. Dear god.

THE AKASHIC RECORDS MY DUDE

He started walking me around until he found a blue book. His mother fucking book.

Home boy brought me to his fucking Akashic fucking blue fucking book.

I was big mad. "YOU LITTLE FUCKER! YOUVE KNOWN ABIUT THIS SHIT?" And he was like, "duh"

I've never felt more disrespect lol

Also the way the library was presented was way way way different from how it looks to me. So thats an interesting note. Looking at his book, on the base of the spine is a number 7...

Oki. Cool. I asked if I could look and he said, "Sure, when you can find your way back."

This mother fucker threw me out of a meditative state. Have you ever woken up just before you hit the ground in one of those falling dreams? THAT WAS THE FEELING.

?? I'm not sure what the fuck just happened or if it holds actual significance.

Anyway. After cursing the fuck out of yoobi I started thinking what else 7 ment.

I was specifically told to remember 7 and it was on his book. Then It popped into my head (I want to say its because I'm smart and thought of it all by myself but I think that was my guide wanting me to keep my last brain cell safe). What is yoongis life path number?

Now I don't know shot about life path numbers but imma read up on them tonight. I used a life path calculator on Google. HIS LIFE PATH NUMBER IS 7 Y'ALL.

Maybe I'm dumb as fuck but yoobi never disappoints.

Conclusion: Yoon is fine. Hes just being a yoongi and a yoongi does.

⬆️Me after this reading⬆️

⬆️ Yoongi rn playing 12D chess⬆️

#bts #bts tarot #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts rm #namjoon imagine #jin #kim seokjin #yoongi #yoongi imagine #min suga #min yoongi #hoseok #jhope #bts jimin #taehyung #jungkook #jk

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queridapotter · 3 years

Text

LAST FRIDAY NIGHT | HARRY JAMES POTTER

Pairing: Harry James Potter x Reader

Warnings: I think no important warning :)

Last Friday night, you end up sleeping with Harry Potter after having a few drinks. English is not my native language so there might be spelling/grammar mistakes.

Saturday morning arrived at Hogwarts as a long-awaited birthday. Everyone had spent the entire week walking to each class, patiently wishing the weekend would come. Slytherin and Gryffindor were scheduled for a Quidditch match at 6:00 pm and many clubs were meeting during the day. Almost no one chose to stay inside the castle due to the extravagant weather, but few even woke up.

Y/n and Harry were one of those few people. Lying together on the single bed inside the Gryffindor boys' dormitory. Clinging or hugging, in any case, the distance between them is nonexistent. As a single person, the two were perfectly comfortable in a cute position, with Harry entwining Y/n's waist and Y/n fitting her face into the curve of Harry's neck.

Little did they know where they were. Harry, a Gryffindor, had planned a party together with his friend Ron; the day before, that would be in the Gryffindor common room, inviting Ravenclaw, Slytherin and Hufflepuff students. Y/n, Luna and Cho obviously went, not knowing the creators of the party, but still they were.

The celebration continued, as two drunk students climbed the stairs of the communal, kissing and making out until they reached the point where two excited people could no longer interrupt what they had started.

For Y/n, the last thing they remember is leaving the Ravenclaw common room and having a small competition on who could turn over the most shots of liquor at once. Potter's last memory was drinking, dancing, making fun of the Weasley's twins and drinking again.

Now they are in a deep sleep. Even with the strong sunlight hitting their faces, none dared to move a muscle, probably the side effects of drinking; The Hangover.

Or something simpler, like having sex until dawn.

"Hey Harry... Oh my God, did Potter really take a girl yesterday?!" George says entering the dorm and being surprised to see Harry and Y/n so close together as they sleep. Or rather, woke up.

At this point the noise of the bedroom door woke them both at the same time, even sleepy they didn't understand anything.

Narration Y/n

"No no no and no!" I repeat it several times as I force my body to sit up. Everything, exactly everything is different! "W... What am I doing here?" I ask incredulously to a tall, red-haired boy who is leaning against the doorframe.

"Good morning..." As music the boy hummed, smiling in amusement and shifting his gaze to a boy beside me.

"Look, I don't want to be boring or spoil the couple atmosphere between you guys, but practice will start in 30 minutes and my friend Harry needs to be ready for tonight."

The boy continued, still smiling as if the situation was hilarious. Before leaving and closing the bedroom door, he gives both of us a wink.

"Wait a minute…" The brunette next to me mumbles, taking his hands from my waist and sitting down on the bed beside me. "What happened between us?" His messy hair and his face showing that he's just woken up indicates that neither he nor I know what happened the night before.

"II don't know," I admit, my voice cracking. In fact I'm more lost than anyone here. "Where are we?" I continue, still finding the red and airy place strange.

"What?" He laughs at my question, rubbing his face and rubbing his eyes "We're in the boys' dormitory, where else would we be? Only if..." The boy instantly stops with what he's doing and stares at me, widening his eyes and rolling his gaze for all my face, hair and neck. "Aren't you a Gryffindor?" His curious question surprised me... Of course I'm not a Gryffindor!

"Oh, no?" In a questioning tone, I practically failed to laugh. Me? Gryffindor? Only if it's in another life! "I am Ravenclaw just like the rest of my family!" I say the obvious.

"Then it's clear why you don't recognize the place." He states, returning with a light, confused expression, "Your common room is in the next tower, dear." In amusement, a sly smile appeared on the brunette's face.

"But then what the hell do I do in your room and in your bed?" I ask running my hands through my hair and tying it into a loose bun. Personally I'm really scared of the answer, but it relieves me to know that I didn't do anything last night...or at least nothing I can remember.

"Do you know your name?" he asks, looking at me intently.

"Know"

"Then it's not amnesia. Now, I'm sure if we had sex yesterday, we'd know." He speaks firmly and winks at me, making me blush heavily.

I've never had sex before, I'm a virgin and I know it. Of course if my first time was at a time when I was drunk, it would probably leave me confused, frustrated and sad. But it's not the case.

"Well, as much as I want to know why a cute girl wakes up in my bed first thing in the morning, I really need to go to Quidditch practice so let's move on to the next one" He says taking my hand and placing a kiss in it, making me blush even more.

We turned to opposite sides and got up off the bed, balancing ourselves and making the sleep go away completely.

"Wait a minute... Why am I just wearing a wool dress?" I ask widening my eyes and touching the warm fabric. "I… II don't even have a wool dress!" Completely startled, my tone rose, letting out a thin scream.

"Hmm... Well, this isn't a dress, it's my Gryffindor sweater" Harry comments, making me quickly raise my hand and cover my mouth, avoiding screaming any louder. "Look... I don't know where my shirt is either so... You're not the only one if it makes you better."

He says trying to comfort me with a small smile. I can see that he already understood everything.

Drug, drug, drug, a thousand times drug!

"Please don't tell me we had sex yesterday!" I plead with the boy, sitting back down on the bed. He was already losing his balance with shock.

"It's okay, I don't say" He replies, picking up his belt from the floor and putting it around his pants...

"I mean…be honest about what you think." I demand standing on the bed and facing the tall boy, who is now the same height as me.

"Want to know what I think about what happened?" he asks, stopping fastening his belt and looking me deep in the eyes. For some reason he can see all my insecurities about it, making him take my hands and squeeze them.

"I do want to," I say, then biting my lower lip

"In my opinion, we had drinks at the party yesterday, went upstairs to the boys' dorm, and then…" He trails off, looking away from the bed and then back to me again. "...Then we had sex for hours until we forgot we should have gone back to our common rooms"

"Hey!" I catch his eye, arching an eyebrow "I thought you were going to say something cute!" I chide, feeling a pang of sadness attack me. Of course, I wish it had been different! My first time should have been a time where rather; I remembered what happened the next morning!

"Love, it wasn't cute what we did, it was sexy!" He chuckled, releasing my hands and walking around the room, looking for his shirt.

"It's just…well" I try to hesitate to speak, but something tells me I need to tell him this, "Considering it was my first time, I really wish I'd remembered that." Complete, biting his lip more nervously. I sit up in bed and look up at the brunette, who has started to stare at me with mixed feelings covering the tension.

Confusion? Repentance? I didn't even know...

"I'm sorry you don't remember how it went" He replies after a few seconds, in a tone above audible, walking towards me. "Everyone says a girl's first time has to be important, and I agree with that!" He speaks, taking my hands again and pulling me, forcing me off the bed.

I stare at our hands together and then look at her bright green irises;

"Look, I want you to know that; regardless of whether we're drunk or not, it doesn't change the fact that it must have been awesome. If it was horrible we probably wouldn't have woken up in the same bed !" The taller one asks making me laugh weakly along with him. Soon he leans closer, bringing our bodies together and kissing my forehead, bringing his hands to the hem of my dress, I mean sweater.

He pulls on the outfit, catching me off guard, the little force used to lift the piece and get it off my body made him smile playfully, leaving me with just a white t-shirt and my underwear underneath.

"Now, if you don't mind I really need these two clothes" He asks as he laughs in my face, which shows the shock I took when I thought I would only be wearing underwear.

"Su-sure..." I come back to reality, taking the shirt from my body and giving it to him, who runs his gaze over my body discreetly and then bites his lower lip, avoiding showing a smile covered in malice.

"Thanks, dear. If you want to get some of my clothes while you can't find your dress for me, that's no problem!" He announces, putting on his shirt and then his sweater over it. I just nod, taking a red sweatshirt from her drawer and putting it on my body, making it look like a short dress.

"See you later..." He stops talking, looking at me with some curiosity, then I realize that we haven't even introduced ourselves.

"Y/n! I mean, my name is Y/n." I mumble, pulling on a pair of the heels he was wearing last night.

"Nice name. My name is Harry Potter" He smiles with an amused expression, bending down near the door and picking up the other pair of the heels I'm looking for. "Here it is," he extends his arm, making me walk over to him and take the same, fitting my left foot.

"Thank you," I say, smiling slightly.

He gives me another wink, leaving the room and then closing the door, leaving me completely alone in the dorm.

Oh, by Merlin, I need to fix things!!

#harry potter #books #imagine #imagines #hp universe #authors #hp fandom #hp imagine #fanfiction #books & libraries

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jinmukangwrites · 3 years

Text

Nightwing BTHB: Slowly Running Out Of Air

Star / Done // Moon / Requested // Eye / Next

Ao3

Summary: Dick wakes up chained to the bottom of a pit. Then, it starts filling up.

Warnings: Kidnapping, Hopeless Situations, Permanent Injury, Amputation, Blood, Drowning

---

To nobody's surprise, waking up is absolutely a bitch.

He groans and shifts, trying to find his bearings, and the first thing he notices is that there's a rattling of clinking metal as his foot moves. Morbidly curious, Dick peeks his eyes open; all he sees is his own hand and a metal wall.

Dick's head pounds like one of the seven dwarfs got stuck in his skull and is trying to mine themself out through his eye sockets. Dick wouldn't be surprised if that dwarf was named Grumpy.

One thing this is helpful for is that he can immediately tell that he's Nightwing. There's no other time in his daily life he would wear black gloves with blue stripes going down his middle fingers.

His causon immediately rises with this new information. Nightwing waking up somewhere like this—with a headache, on the ground, with the sound of what's most likely chains, is never good.

He risks shifting again, making it seem like he's groggily beginning to wake up from whatever drug he's been hit with just in case someone is watching. There's definitely chains clinking down by his feet, specifically his left ankle.

He peeks his eyes open to better survey his location, however all that he discovers is more rusted metal walls and floor of the same material. The wall is rounded and about a foot and a half from his face. When he stretches his leg that's not connected to the chains, he hits the wall behind him. He glances up, and sure enough the walls around him expand upwards what must be a little less than fifteen feet. There's a grate laying over the mouth of the walls, showing more ceiling higher up and shrouded in shadows.

He's chained to the bottom of a metal pit.

This doesn't sound good at all.

He closes his eyes and stills, trying to figure out where he is and what he was doing to end up here. He was obviously doing something on patrol… perhaps a mission? He's not sure, the drugs in his system, while milder than most he's woken up with before, is making it really hard to recall much of anything. Honestly, the last thing he remembers is getting a phone call from Jason.

He slows his breathing, stilling so that he looks asleep to anyone watching.

Come on Dick. Just retrace your steps. You got a phone call from Jason... You answered… there was a hole in your sock. He wanted… what did Jason want…

"Big bird?" A voice calls, the tones becoming distorted as it echoes down the metal pit. "You up?"

"… Hood?" Dick tries, opening his eyes and looking up. Jason doesn't sound hurt or particularly startled, but Dick can't see anything above him other than the grating and the ceiling.

"I've been up for the past half hour," Jason's explains, "m'not hurt. But no one's come yet."

Dick nods to himself. So they've been captured together, but their captors might not be watching. "You in a pit too?" Dick asks, slowly working himself up so he's sitting.

He grabs onto the wall for balance when he gets to his feet. There's a heavy shackle definitely around his ankle, one that's not coming off without the key or very specific tools. It's tight too, he can feel it squeezing awkwardly against his tendons and bone. The chain connecting the shackle to an eye-hook in the floor looks several feet long, wound up in a neat pile on the floor to his side.

"No, tied to a chair up here," Jason answers as Dick begins to take stock of himself. He's been close to completely disarmed of anything useful. The only things he can find stock of is a few wingdings, some smoke pallets, his escrima sticks…

The things that are missing include his stash of small explosives, his rebreather, and his lockpicking set. Three things he's usually good at remembering to pack.

"Do you know what happened?" Dick asks as he bends down to inspect the chains and the eye-hook. The chains are almost a half inch in diameter and expertly wielded. The chains have bits of rust here and there, but none that would suggest breakage any time soon. The eye-hook is probably his best bet, as it's thick and heavy-duty, but clearly just screwed into the floor.

"You don't remember?" Jason scoffs, amusement in his tone. Dick grins, Jason either doesn't know or he, himself, needed some time to recall. "We were going through the Narrows before we got sniped by tranqes."

Dick brings his hand up to the bit of skin that's exposed to his neck where he immediately feels a sharp pinch of pain from what's definitely irritated skin thanks to a barbed dart being yanked out from it's target.

That's right. They were sniped. It was just a simple patrol together, just for the heck of it, and next thing Dick knew he was collapsing to the ground with his body feeling floaty and far away.

He huffs. "Why can't Gotham criminals ever be normal?"

Jason snorts in response.

Dick kneels down by the eye-hook and wraps his hands around it, looking for the best grasp despite the awkward shape and angle. Once he feels like he has an okay enough grasp, he begins to turn.

It doesn't budge.

"How stuck are you?" Dick calls before trying again at the hook.

It still doesn't move as Jason answers—it must be glued in somehow. "Pretty stuck. Chair's bolted to the ground, used way too much duct-tape, took everything useful."

Dick opens his mouth to ask how likely Jason thinks he'd be able to escape on his own, but then something groans within the walls of the pit.

"The hell?" Jason murmurs.

"Uh, Hood?" Dick calls anxiously, walking over to where the noise came from. He places his hands on the wall and frowns at the distant rumblings under his fingertips.

Jason answers with a frustrated and cautious voice. "There's a TV on the wall in front of me, it just turned on."

Dick hums and looks down at the seam where the wall meets the floor. He frowns when he notices small sections of grating; thin but strong graphs of wire cover small little holes in the wall, barely three inches in diameter.

However, when he turns around, he counts about 8 of these holes.

"The quality is really bad," Jason continues, "but I think it's of you."

"What's going on?" Dick looks up and sure enough, what looks to be a small and cheap looking knockoff of a GoPro sits taped to the grating above him.

Before either he or Jason can say anything more, the almost mechanical groaning in the walls becomes louder and then Dick finds out what those little holes near his feet are for.

Water pours through each hole, immediately sloshing around his shoes. Panic and understanding shoots adrenalin through his veins, he kneels down in the water that's already around his ankles and forces one of his wingdings into the middle of the eye-hook, using it as a handle for him to better turn.

At least the water isn't cold.

"Wing?" Jason calls, and Dick grunts as the hook stays stubbornly in place. "What's going on? I can't see anything."

One of Dick's hands slips in the water and he curses, bringing his hand up to see the fabric of his gloves cut through. "They're filling it with water."

"You for real?!"

Instead of answering, Dick tries again to break the eye-hook. Nothing works, all he does is cut the skin of his palms.

He swears colorfully as he stands back up, glaring down through the water that's now to the middle of his shins and contemplates kicking the hook, however he has a feeling that all he's going to accomplish is gaining an aching foot. He looks up at the grating.

"Let's say, hypothetically, that I managed to throw a wingding at you, would you have any chances of catching it and getting out?"

Jason's silent for a beat. "Maybe. If you throw it right at me. Also I hate that you call those that."

Dick rolls his eyes and adjusts his footing, looking at the chain and trying to calculate how heavy it's going to be. He should be fine. He just needs to rise with the water to a point where he can reach the grating. Once Jason's free, he should be able to help get Dick out of this literal death trap.

He explains his plan to Jason, and while it doesn't sound as thought out as it should be, it's still all that they've got.

That water slips over his knees, up his hips, to his chest, and eventually above his shoulders.

Once it became impossible to stand any longer, Dick forced himself to begin a steady tread despite the chain around his ankle. He knows the higher the water rises, the more heavy the chain will become...

But he's strong. He's good at swimming. With the amount of times he's been tossed into various harbors, he has to be.

"Wing?" Jason calls around when Dick has risen with the water to about the halfway point. Dick's left leg already burns from the strain of the chain, but he's been doing alright so far.

"Just focus on escaping, little wing," Dick calls, kicking his unshackled leg furiously as the weight on the other drags him under for just a moment.

The water continues to rise, and soon it becomes almost unbearable to continue swimming like this. But he has to. If he doesn't, he'll sink and drown.

Eventually, just as his legs are beginning to go numb with strain, he manages to hook the tips of his fingers around the grating above him. With a shot of adrenalin, he realizes that this is it. This is his last shot. It all amounts to these last moments whether he'll manage to escape, or if this is where he dies.

It's moments like these where he never feels more alive.

He forces his hands to get a better grasp as he already holds one of his meager stash of wingdings in his grasp. He works to lift himself up into the small few feet of air above the water, but he only goes up a couple inches before he's violently stopped by a tugging on his left leg.

Dick's stomach sinks.

"Uh, Hood?" He calls, forcing the coming panic out of his voice as the water steadily rises higher. The ripples tickle his Adam's apple. "I can't- I can't get higher. You're going to have to help me aim."

"Alright," Jason says, his voice calm, which must mean Dick's unsuccessfully managed to keep his cool. "Follow my voice, I think I'm to your left."

Dick nods slightly to himself, but not too much because his chin would dip in the water that way. Working the grate like it's a set of monkey bars, Dick turns step by step until Jason tells him to stop. He keeps one hand white knuckled on the bars and then brings his other hand up as far as it can go, the wingding resting in his dripping fingers.

The shackle digs into his ankle as he tries to tug himself more upwards.

"Okay, a little to your right," Jason instructs, and Dick does as he's told. "Kay, aim up, alright?"

"Yeah," Dick gasps, his chin slapping the water. "Right."

He throws the wingding to the best of his limited abilities. He knows he misses when Jason makes a small growling noise.

"Put more power into it."

Dick can't help it. He lets out a burst of hysterical laughter. Power? He can barely move as it is, the only power that he's going to get with his hand just over the bars of the grate is going to come from his wrist.

Regardless, Dick brings his hand down and grabs another one of his weapons. He counts in a blink of an eye that he only has five.

He tries again, following Jason's instructions, and this time he gets closer to his younger brother, but it curves to the left and lands itself, apparently, into the screen of the TV. Breaking it.

"You're fine, big bird," Jason says, "you're gonna be fine. Let's just try again."

Dick can't respond. The water is brushing against his upper lip. If he could respond, he's sure he might laugh again at how hopeless this all is.

He tries again, and all he can hear is Jason saying it slid under his chair before the water completely rises above his ears. Dick's just managing to strain and keep his nose above the surface, but already if he breathes too loudly droplets will try to suck into his lungs.

He has two wingdings left. He can barely properly aim, and he can't even hear Jason all too well either.

He sucks in a breath and holds it just as the water rises over his nose.

He tries. He really tries to keep his calm and aim at Jason once again with muscle memory. He's been in deathtraps before.

Yet, the second he lifts his second to last wingding, the water stops rising right near his elbows. Just above his head.

And how cruel is that?

He doesn't know if he can risk this. If he aims and fires his last two wingdings completely blind like this and misses, then it's over.

He can hold his breath longer than most. But it doesn't matter how long he can hold his breath if he's chained down just below the surface.

Dick looks down at the shackle around his ankle, then feels the sharp wingding in his hand.

He needs to buy time. For himself… for Jason. He needs the shackle off so he can rise above the water and aim.

Before he can let fear talk him out of it, he lets go of the grating above him and allows himself to sink further into the water with the weight of the chain.

His ears are ringing and he can practically feel his pulse trying to burst from his neck, but he keeps his breath locked in his lungs and he keeps his eyes trained on his ankle.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he lets the adrenaline drive him as he plunges his own weapon into his ankle, right below the shackle.

Blood bursts from his leg like a cloud. Agony hits like a truck. But he keeps cutting, he keeps cutting because he has to. The adrenaline helps numb it a little. But it's all he can do to keep from screaming and sucking in the blood stained water as he hits the bone.

It takes a good few tugs and a few more desperate slices for him to finally feel the weight of the shackle and chain drop. Before he can allow what just happened—what he's just done—to hit him, he kicks up and forces himself to swim until he reaches the surface.

When he reaches air, he's not sure if he's coughing, sobbing, or screaming.

It hurts. It hurts. And soon enough, the water will drain him out of every single drop of his blood.

With shaking hands, he lifts himself so he's as close to the grating as possible. He has just a second to process how scared Jason looks on that chair, like he's trying to understand or process what just happened. Dick wonders if he knows what it means for Dick to be above the water. Dick wonders if Jason thought he drowned. Dick wonders if Jason saw the whole thing on the screen of a shattered TV.

Dick allows himself just a moment to mentally apologize to Jason before he gets his whole arm out of the grating and aims with perfect precision straight into the tape holding Jason's arm to the chair.

Right then, it feels like all the strength seeps out of him. He almost falls back into the water, wheezing, but he keeps his grasp strong and closes his eyes.

He's okay. He's okay. He's-

Water laps into his mouth and he can taste blood.

Now he knows it's sobs escaping through his teeth.

He holds on and forces himself to ignore the blood tasting water, ignore how weak and nauseated he's becoming. He holds on until there's a sound of a gun firing on the padlock keeping the grate down. He shifts to grab the lip of the pit as Jason lifts the grate. For a second, he slips and almost falls back into the water, but then strong hands grasp under his arms and heft him out.

Next thing he knows he's on his back in a puddle of water and blood and just trying to catch his breath.

"Holy shit, fucking- Wing? Can you hear me?"

Jason's panicking. Dick's coughing water. He's screaming water when Jason begins to wrap a torn piece of cloth from his leather jacket around his leg.

A tourniquet.

Dick writes as the agony in his left leg becomes blinding with each twist Jason makes in the cloth.

"Jason- Jason I couldn't-" Dick tries to explain, but his brain is woozy and his chest really hurts. "I didn't-"

I couldn't breathe. I didn't think. I couldn't get out. I didn't want to die.

"My leg- my leg, Jay- I can't-"

I can't breathe.

"Just hold on, you're going into shock-" Jason says, his voice so much weaker than what it normally is. "All of our stuff is in here- I already pinged B."

No. No, not B. Dick doesn't need Bruce. Dick doesn't need Alfred. Or the Batcave. Or the medbay. A few pills of advil. A pat on a shoulder.

He needs-

"Hospital," he gasps through clenched teeth as Jason bundles up his jacket and puts it under Dick's feet to elevate them.

Foot. Foot and mangled remains of his left leg.

"Jay-"

"Okay," Jason agrees, standing up and running to the other side of the room where—sure enough—all of their missing items lay.

Dick stares up at the ceiling while Jason calls for an ambulance. He listens to the shakiness to his tone and how he seems to stumble over answers he must be being asked. If Jason's this startled… it must be really bad.

Dick wants to look, but at the same time he knows he'll throw up the second he sees.

He takes a deep breath and tries to fight the armada of problems trying to assault him. The drowsiness. The confusion. The nausea. The pain. The shock.

But eventually, Jason's voice becomes a drone, and soon Dick's eyes are slipping closed.

He hears his name shouted before he falls unconscious.

When the black settles, the pain doesn't go away.

-o-o-o-o-

When Dick wakes up the first time, it's chaos. Shouting voices, a mask pressing against his face. He tries to open his eyes and figure out what's going on, but then something nudges his leg and he sees stars. He tries to crawl back to himself, but it's like he's pinned with sharp needles through butterfly wings. Before he can even try to open his eyes again through the tears, something pinches the inside of his elbow, and Dick loses himself again.

-o-o-o-o-

The second time he wakes, it's quiet. He feels like he's eaten so much honey that it has replaced his blood. His arms are heavy as he brings them to his face to rub at his blurry eyes.

As he rubs at them, he can feel the tugging of tubes running up his nose. The pull of a needle within the crook of his elbow. As he looks around, slowly realizing where he is—slowly remembering why he's here—the heart monitor picks up speed.

Of course, that's when a body he didn't notice until now shoots up like they have been trying and failing to catch some shut eye.

"Bruce," Dick calls weakly as Bruce zeros in on him. Dick's throat hurts. Everything hurts. He can't feel anything below his knee.

Thankfully, as he weakly holds his arms out, Bruce gets the message. Before Dick knows it, he's being gathered into Bruce's arms so he's sitting up and clutching to Bruce like his wrinkled suit jacket is his lifeline.

"How bad is it?" Dick asks with wobbling lips and a wobbling voice.

Bruce stills, then his arms tighten around Dick, and that's when Dick knows it's bad. A sob tears through his throat and he closes his eyes, pressing against Bruce. He wants to crawl away and not exist. He wants Bruce to make everything okay again.

He doesn't want to open his eyes to look. So he keeps them closed and allows his tears to stain Bruce's tie.

"They…" Bruce starts, sounding terribly unsure, "you were in bad shape. Shock. Infection already setting in. You lost a lot of blood... They couldn't save anything below the knee."

Dick wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all. He knows he was panicking back there, but he also purposely cut at his ankle to… to save his leg.

He lost it anyway. He wants to laugh. Instead he sobs harder.

Bruce tries to reassure him with the hopes the doctors have for a prosthetic, tries to explain he already has Lucius Fox on making one fit for Nightwing, but Dick can only cry and weep and mourn until eventually, he's practically boneless. He can barely keep his eyes open as Bruce lays him back down and tells him to get some more rest.

"Sleep, Chum, everything will get better."

Dick can't find it in himself to believe him. He sleeps anyway, if not to just pretend his entire life isn't over.

#dick grayson #jason todd #nightwing #red hood #badthingshappenbingo #dc comics #batman comics #fanfiction #jin writes #kidnapping tw #permanent injury tw #amputation tw #blood tw #injury tw

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princesskiii · 3 years

Text

Lying Is Surviving, Literally

Anne followed Cathy's actions, tugging on her own choker. Anne didn't understand, she never saw Cathy without a choker, or atleast a scarf. Just something that covered their neck. She geussed they probably had a wound there from their time with Thomas that they didn't want shown. But still, it seemed weird.

Anne herself, god damn even Kate, could be seen without anything covering their scars. And everyone in the house knew of Cathy's trauma with Thomas. And there were definitely incidents with physical abuse at some point, and with Anne's personal expierence, she didn't blame Cathy for covering it up. But she knew something wasn't right.

"Annie?" Anne was snapped out of her thoughts as she looked back at the person she raised, only to not know anything about them now. "Are you okay?" Cathy asked. "Yeah. I'm fine darling. Just thinking." Anne smiled softly, explaining without giving to much away. "About what?" Cathy seemed to grow more curious. Anne stayed silent and debated whether to tell Cathy. "Nothing, what are you reading?" She smiled as Cathy's eyes lit up. "It's called to kill a mocking bird!" Anne smiled, her plan seemed succesful.

It was always easy to change the subject with Cathy.

II.

Catalina wasn't sure of what had woken her. But the cries from upstairs were enough to get her out of bed, luckily it wasn't Anne. No they shared a room so couldn't have been Anne, she was still sleeping beside her anyways.

She looked into Kate's room as soon as she got upstairs, but the fifth queen was sleeping peacefully. When she opened the door to the room Anna and Jane shared both were sleeping as well. And the last person left was Cathy.

She stormed into their room to find Cathy on the floor crying their eyes out. "Oh baby." She walked over and sat beside the last queen. "Are you okay to touch?" She asked, knowing to ask for permission after Cathy gave Anna a blue eye when she tried to hug them after a nightmare. Cathy shook their head. "That's okay queride, wanna talk about it?" Catalina had to stop herself from still reaching out to shaking survivor. Cathy shook their head, a little more frantically. "Alright, talk when you're ready. Want to sleep with me and Anne?" This time Cathy nodded, laying on the floor for a bit longer.

Catalina helped Cathy up and led them to her bedroom. "You okay to touch now?" Catalina tucked both of them in, trying her best to not disturb Anne. This time Cathy nodded and immediatly Catalina held her as close as possible. "Goodnight mija."

III.

"I can't get anything out of them." Catalina slammed her hands on the table. "It's like they don't want to talk to me." She huffed placing her head in her hands. "They do, maybe they just need some time to talk." Jane smiled caressing Catalina's arm. "But Jane this isn't the only time they've acted like this. It's happened before and they never came to me. I'm worried for them. I don't know what to do." Catalina's words grew frustrated as she fall back onto the couch.

"I can try bust it out of them." Anna said. "But i'm the one supposed to help!-" Catalina squeaked out "Lina, i can get them to talk to you." Anna smiled when Catalina's expression softened. "I just want to know what's wrong Anna."

"I know Lina. I know." And like that Anna rushed up the stairs, determined to get Cathy to talk.

"Catherine!" Anna yelled knocking on their door, Anna was many things but not a fool, she was dealing with Cathy the door was definutely locked. "Go away madrina." Came from inside. "It's not Lina. It's Anna." She heard a thud. "Well i don't want to talk to you either."

"Cathy please. I need to talk with you. You'll get some coffee from me." A click. The door opened slightly. "4 cups." Cathy said. "4 cups." Anna agreed. Cathy opened the door, letting Anna in. "Cathy. You've been distant lately. And don't fight it, i heard your screams at night. Spill the beans." Anna said sitting down on the bed. Cathy sat at their desk. "I'm sorry... It's just nightmares about Thomas." Cathy said. "Well, i want you to come to us when you have those. And you're not a burden, i promise. Now can you go tell Lina? She's worried sick." Anna said. "Yeah, of course."

IV.

A knock on the door snapped Cathy out of their work. "Come in." They turned too the door and smiled when seeing Kate. "I had a nightmare." Kate muttered. "Want to talk about it?" Cathy asked. Kate nodded and walked to the bed.

"What was it about darling?" Cathy asked, sitting beside Kate. "My beheading." Kate responded. Of course, of course it was her beheading. And of course she'd come to Cathy about it. "Was it you know..bloody?" Cathy asked. "No. I woke up as the man swung the axe. I didn't see my head flying." Kate chuckled. "It's the first time i woke up before the crowds cheers." Kate said, tearing up.

"Oh Kathryn." Cathy hugged the pink queen who started crying. "They didn't have the right to clap when you died. That was wrong, you never deserved to die." Cathy carresed Kate's back, they felt her tears soak her shirt but it didn't matter. "I've got you." Cathy held Kate extra close after that. "You're safe in my arms Kathryn." Kate let out a teary laugh. "It feels weird having you say my full name. Knowing we have the same name." Kate giggled and Cathy couldn't help but laugh too.

"Yeah, i get it." Kate let her hands wander Cathy's back and neck, elicting giggles from the blue queen. "You were nearly beheaded to weren't you?" Kate asked. Cathy grew tense and Kate stopped her hands. "Yeah. Nearly." Cathy said trying relax again. "Sorry." Kate said letting herself fall on the bed. "It's fine." Cathy smiled.

"Can i sleep here...?" Kate sat up, staring at Cathy with hopeful eyes. "Yeah of course." The last queen tucked the both of them in, their earlier work forgotten. "Thanks cath." Kate hugged the older who smiled.

"No problem."

The flinch of pain when Kate had touched Cathy's neck was long forgotten as the two fell asleep.

Jane had taken notes of Cathy's behaviour. Her suspiscion had started when she noticed Cathy's obnoxious obsession with chokers. It had gotten bigger when they practically begged to have a choker added to their costume. So this is where she was now. Trying to find as much information as possible about Cathy.

All the websites said the same thing: after Henry's death she got married to Thomas Seymour. She died of child bed fever. And nothing else.

The article's all mentioned a daughter. But never did Parr speak of having a child.

Her eyes shot from article to article. till she saw something different. "Catherine Parr's beheading? Well i knew they were nearly beheaded, we all know that but. They didn't actually get beheaded... right?" Jane whispered to herself. Though she still clicked on the article, just to make sure.

As she read through it she started to tear up. Everything started to make sense, the collection of chokers, the screaming at night, the bizarre amount of scratching at their neck and the pure terror which was so similair to that of Anne and Kate. Cathy had lied about surviving.

She took the laptop and stormed out of the room, she wanted to hear the answers from Parr's own mouth.

"Cathy you lied to our faces!" Jane ran down stairs, laptop in hand, looking as if she could start crying at any second. "What? I would never!" Cathy seemed confused.

"You lied to me! You lied to us!" Jane shoved the laptop into Cathy's hands. The last queen fidgeted with their choker as they read what Jane had found. The other queens, who had been in the kitchen discussing the show, came to see what the comotion was about.

"Mija? What's wrong?" Catalina rushed to her godchild. "I'm so sorry." Was the only thing that left their mouth as sobs started coming out. "You're so! So!" Jane couldn't find the right words after her discovery. "Idiotic." Catalina deadpanned having read the article. Jane nodded. Catalina stood up and towered over the younger.

"Would you guys mind filling us in?" Anna came into the living room, followed by the other two. Jane took the laptop from Cathy's lap and handed it to the three clueless women.

They read through it while Jane and Catalina kept staring at Cathy, waiting for them to say something. "Liebling." Anna seemed to be the first to finish reading as she gave Anne the laptop and rushed to the 'survivor'. "Is this true?" She asked sitting on the table in front of Cathy.

Cathy nodded before hiding their face in their hands. "Why didn't you tell us?" Anne asked looking up from the screen. Cathy only shrugged. Kate slided by her cousin and took the shocked last wife into her arms. "'M sorry Cath." Kate muttered.

"What? I- i'm the one supposed to say sorry." Cathy tried squirming out of Kate's grasp, feeling they didn't deserve the hug. "Kiddo.... i-" Anna started before tearing up herself and hugging the sixth wife. "You could have told us you know." Jane sighed taking Cathy's hand in her own.

Anne moved through the mess of people and took Cathy's other hand. "I'm sorry if you felt like you couldn't tell us." She said pressing a motherly kiss on Cathy's knuckles. "I'm sorry i didn't-" They cried into Anne's shirt. "Why didn't you?" Jane asked. "I don't- i'm sorry- it's just-" Cathy couldn't figure out what to say. "Mija-" Catalina looked at the others questionably. They all got the message and stepped aside. The missing space was filled with the first queen within seconds.

"Calm down querida. I'm sorry you felt like you had to keep this all in. That must have been awful." Catalina rubbed the youngers back, twirling their curls with her other hand.

Cathy sobbed into their godmothers shirt. "It-it was! It was awful."

"Yeah i bet so." Catalina cooed, a soft smile on her face. The others looked at the scene with concern and relief. Catalina sat her godchild on her lap and the others took their earlier places. "Do you want to talk about it?" Anna asked. Cathy considered before shaking their head.

"That's understandable. Just-. Just know we love you." This time Cathy nodded. Anne stared at the choker Cathy had on. "Take that ridiciously uncomfortable thing off. It's made of some harsh material and i really reccomend not wearing it. Ever." She struggled with it before taking it off. Catalina stared at the now obvious scar on Cathy's neck.

She carressed it, careful not to hurt Cathy in the process. "You're safe here darling." She muttered. "I know." Cathy answered. "I'm sorry i didn't tell you."

"It's fine." Kate said softly. "I get it."

"Divorced beheaded died survived beheaded beheaded doesn't really sound nice." Jane joked causing the others to laugh.

"Now... group hug?" Anna asked. "Sounds perfect." Catalina helped Cathy stand up. Before pulling Anne and Jane with her. Anna pulled Kate in the hug, no one said anything when Cathy was gently moved to the center. Immediatly becoming invisible to any on looker as the much taller queens surrouneded her.

The queens had ended up on Cathy's bed fighting for space. Cathy laughed the moment they came in to the room. "Are you kidding me?" They giggled. "We thought you needed some comfort." Jane chuckled.

Cathy laughed. "You sleep on the couch there's no space left." Anna smirked playfully. "Excuse you? This is my room." Cathy retorded jumping onto the edge of the bed. "There's six of us on a two person bed now." Kate said putting her phone down.

"Yeah it's a two person bed Cathy. With who do you sleep?" Anne teased with a smirk. "If you're suggesting that i have a girlfriend. Then you're wrong. I'm completely single and have never, atleast in this life, slept with someone." Cathy smiled. "It's just more space for me." They giggled. "Why do they get a two person bed when i'm left with a one person bed!" Kate screamed, though far from angry.

"You're much less worthy then me." Cathy teased sitting beside their giggling godmother. "Why you little-!" Kate got off the bed and took Cathy with her, who squealed as they were taken off the bed.

The remaining laughed. Anna joining in with the banter herself.

The others had finally settled down. They'd moved the matress from Jane and Anna's room and the one from Catalina and Anne into Cathy's room. Anna and Jane were sleeping togheter. The beheaded cousins decided to sleep togheter as well, though Anne wanted to sleep with Catalina as well. The last two remaining were whispering to each other. They didn't have a specific topic to talk about so it was all silly nothing.

"Don't kill each other!"

Catalina stared at Cathy's neck, more specifically the scar on there. "Can i touch it?" She asked looking into her godchilds eyes. Cathy nodded, though Catalina nearly didn't see it with how dark it was.

She gently carresed the scar, again making sure to not hurt the younger. "I'm so sorry that happened Mi vida." She whispered. "It's fine. There's nothing we can do about it now." Cathy sighed. "Does it hurt?" Catalina asked. "Sometimes. Mostly after a nightmare." Cathy answered this time sighing in content.

"I would have told you it's just-" Catalina shushed the last wife. "I get it. You were the last wife of his. You felt you needed to be strong." Cathy nodded, sobbing into Catalina's hoodie. "I'm sorry pup." Catalina muttered pressing a kiss to Cathy's forehead. Cathy let out a choked laugh.

"Pup?" That's new." Catalina giggled. "Thought it fit you." Both laughed this time. "I like it." Cathy smiled.

#six #six musical #six the musical #catherine of aragon #Catherine Parr #anne boleyn #anna of cleves #katherine howard #six au #almost survived #almost survived au #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #jane seymour

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gone4neow · 4 years

Text

MIGHTY | ⓅⒸⓎ

c h a p t e r o n e

- park chanyeol x oc

- mulan rewrite [very loosely inspired by the disney version]

- warnings : cursing, dark themes, extreme violence

- work count : 3,457

previous chapter or next chapter

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Working the cart at the street market was always a thrill. It wasn't that the job was particularly fun, but it was certainly never boring. Some customers were regulars who showed up weekly, but new customers came and went often. Some of the farmworkers loved working at the market simply because they adored the socialization that came with the job, but Eunyeong felt indifferent towards the job. It was nice to get off the farm and see what was going on in town, but sometimes the interactions with the townspeople really ruined the job for her. Elderly women judged her for not being at home with a family to take care of, younger women did little to hide their envy of her position, and men of all ages seemed to have a personal agenda to remind her that she was horrible for working a man's job. Ignoring these people had become a sort of second nature for her.

She had woken up that morning with dread in her bones. It was her turn to manage the cart at the market today. Her uncle had told her that if she could do this job two times a month then he would allow her to work on his farm. The prospect of having a job was enough to make her agree to any terms he had for her. At first, she was absolutely miserable after working in the market. It was difficult and it took a huge toll on her mental health after receiving harsh criticism all day long. There were multiple occasions where she had cried; the fear that she had been in over her head when seeking out a job haunted her. It was her father who had encouraged her to keep going. Though he didn't understand her extreme need to work alongside men, he hated to see her spirit so defeated.

"You are different, Eunyeong. This world isn't ready for a woman like you. If you let them bring you down now, then they will never be ready. If you want them to understand, you're going to have to make them understand. Push forward. Fight for what you want," he had told her weeks ago. "I believe in you. Now you have to believe in yourself."

She had taken his words to heart. He was right, just as he usually was. She adored her father. Though many saw the man as a stony figure with a hard exterior, she knew that his heart was soft and full of love. He was brave, compassionate, and cared deeply for those closest to him. If there was ever an idol figure in her life, it was him. Even when her mother scolded her for pursuing her personal goals, her father had been there ready to support her wholeheartedly. Because of this, she was eternally grateful.

When she had arrived at the marketplace, her hair was messy and her cheeks were flushed. She had arrived a few minutes late due to oversleeping. Her coworker looked over at her with a judgmental expression on his face before he tossed her a small bag to collect coins in. Relief flooded her chest when the old man turned from her without giving her a lecture about how she should be on time. For the next few hours business went as usual. She worked alongside her coworker in silence, only speaking to customers when spoken to. A gentle smile formed on her face every time she handed over a basket of vegetables, but the customers seem to be wary of her and never returned it. Things were going just fine - that is until a familiar man showed up. He came with three other men. Each had wide smiles on their faces. They were around fifteen years older than Piya was and had all grown up in the same village as she had.

"Eunyeong, it's so lovely to see you here," Howon greeted the woman in a smooth voice. His eyes bore into hers as if they were lasers, analyzing every detail of her soul.

Her stomach twisted, but she smiled a wide, fake smile. "Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"Me?" The man questioned, raising his eyebrows. He hummed as if in deep thought. "I did come here with something very specific in mind today, but it seems I've already found it on my own."

"What would that be?" Eunyeong asked him, the smile on her face faltering. Her hands fumbled around as she pretended to organize the baskets sitting on the table in front of her. She only stopped when the man's right hand shot out and wrapped itself around her wrist. Her movements froze entirely.

"You," Howon said. A smirk formed on his face as his companions laughed behind him. The woman went to pull her arm away from his grasp, but his grip only tightened. She clenched her jaws out of anger. How dare this man?

"What's this?" Her coworker blurted out from beside her. She turned to look at the older man. He looked between her and Howon with confusion.

"Ah! It's nothing, old man. Return to your job," Howon brushed the man off in a patronizing tone. Eunyeong could see her coworker tense up at the man's words.

"Let go of her wrist. We both have jobs to do," He instructed Howon. The younger man scoffed and his grip grew even tighter around Eunyeong's wrist. The pain was nothing compared to the glimmer in the man's eyes. It was as if he was testing her, seeing how far he could push her before he would break her. So she stood taller, lifted her head, and looked at him with a stare that was even more chilling. His thin lips parted in surprise when her free hand wrapped tightly around his wrist. The grip around her wrist lessened as she forced hers tighter.

He hummed as if approving of her actions, but she could see the anger on his features. "What a bold woman you are."

The release of her wrist coaxed Eunyeong to pull her hands away from the man entirely. With one last smirk cast in her direction, the man turned and left the market booth. His followers turned and mirrored his movement.

Eunyeong risked a glance at her coworker, expecting him to be sending her scathing expression. Instead, the old man was staring off at the retreating group of men with a stoic expression on his face. When he finally looked to her, he said, "I'm going to have a talk with your uncle this evening. I'm going to request to share the same schedule as you."

The woman instantly grew nervous. She hadn't meant to cause a scene, but she could already feel that today had been the start of something unfortunate. Usually, her coworkers ignored Howon's behavior altogether, so she never had to worry about her uncle punishing her for any incidents occurring before.

"That's alright. I can manage on my own," she told the man. "It means a lot to me that you care, Jin-kyu, but please don't talk about what happened today with my uncle."

His eyes searched her face for a sign that she was downplaying the situation. He was sure that a young woman like Eunyeong must've been fearful of a hooligan such as the man he had just witnessed. Even after a few seconds had passed, he found no sign of fear. Of course, he was confused by this, but instead of arguing with the woman, he reluctantly nodded his head in agreement with her request. She released a breath of relief before she smiled a polite smile at the man. He gave a low grunt in response and then turned to continue doing his job.

It had been just before the sun began to set that the market began to close for the day. Eunyeong helped Jin-kyu lock up the farm's shop. They each carried a stick with two baskets full of excessive products hanging on the ends. In the royal areas of the country, they may have looked out of place. In the farming area of the country, they looked right at home. It was a common sight to see farmworkers struggling to carry such a weighted stick around on their shoulders. They walked alongside together along the gravel road. Their feet ached, but the pain they would feel later would be worth it. There was pride in working until your body ached. Not because it was fun to feel such pain, but because the pain seemed little when compared to the sight of their families enjoying a meal they had worked so hard to provide.

"Do you think that uncle's cow has gone into labor yet?" Eunyeong spoke up, breaking the silence that had embedded itself between the two farmworkers.

"Should have. Why? Looking forward to seeing the calf?" Jin-kyu responded. She could hear the teasing in his voice. Her mouth had just opened to reply when the old man next to her went crashing down onto the gravels beside her. Eunyeong gasped loudly, throwing the stick on her shoulders to the ground quickly. A figure raced her to Jin-kyu's body and before she could help the man to his feet, he was being turned over onto his back. A fist crashed against the old man's rough face. And then another. Eunyeong screamed out in anger. She kicked the old man's attacked away from his body. Jin-kyu looked up at her with wide eyes. His cheek was already beginning to bruise from the attack.

"Run Eunyeong," he spat out. When his attacker when to touch him again, the woman turned and lifted her discarded stick from the group. She turned and swung the wooden stick at the stranger's back as forcefully as she could manage. He howled with pain and covered the sound of the stick colliding against his figure. Taking advantage of the man's weakened state, she kicked him to the ground again before she rushed to help her coworker stand up. Together they ran towards the farm. Eunyeong held onto her stick as if her life depended on it. Every few seconds she would glance over her shoulder to see if the attacker was still following. He seemed to vanish completely after a few moments passed.

The woman was taken by surprise when she turned her head towards the direction of the farm. It had been so close, yet something was blocking her and Jin-kyu from reaching it. Three men stood in the middle of the pathway. She could recognize one as the previous attacker. Both she and her coworker came to a quick halt. Their chests rose and fell with short, quick breaths.

"Jin-kyu, what should we do?" Eunyeong breathed out. When she looked over at the man he was staring straight ahead with wide eyes. He was as clueless as she was. She grimaced at the realization. They were in trouble now. Her fingers wrapped themselves even tighter around the stick in her hand. If these men were looking for a fight then she would surely do her best to give them one.

The men suddenly raced towards her and the old man next to her. She swallowed nervously before she threw herself in front of Jin-kyu. When the first man reach her, she sent a forceful kick towards him. He grabbed her leg and held it as a blocking mechanism. Without his hands, he wasn't able to block the blow of the stick in the woman's hands. A vibrant ping echoed throughout the evening air as the stick clashed against the man's skull. He staggered backward, his hands flying up to hold his injured head. The woman quickly went to work with the other two men. She swung her stick towards them with confidence. Adrenaline was rushing through her veins as she did her best to defend both herself and Jim-kyu from the men. She was able to get one of the men in the eye with her stick. He cried out with surprise and stumbled into his companion, causing both of their balances to weaken.

Seeing an opportunity open up, she shot her foot out and wrapped it around the uninjured man's ankle before harshly jerking her foot. The man lost his balance completely and crashed to the ground. The other man still held onto his eye. Jin-kyu surprised the woman by swinging his fist at the attacker. The man's hand left his eye as he tried his best to catch his fall. He crashed onto the man who had just gone down seconds before him. The third man suddenly reappeared. He was strong this time, but his focus was no longer on the old man. Now he had a new mission: get rid of the stick in Eunyeong's hands. She fought against his tugs on the stick but ultimately lost her stick. Her eyes widened as a smug expression formed on his face. He snapped the wooden stick over his knee, something that should have been impossible.

"Howon sends a message. He wants you to know that he won't stand for your bold behavior," the man spoke in a deep voice. The other two men stood up soon after. The expression on their faces was less than pleased. The woman screamed in protest as the two men came behind her and held her arms behind her back.

"Eunyeong!" Jin-kyu gasped, stepping towards her. The third man decided at that moment to swing his arm towards the old man's face. Jin-kyu fell onto the ground. He crawled backward as his attacker took a step closer to him. Eunyeong struggled against the men's hold on her arms. Desperation was crawling up her arms and across her chest. If the man was too rough with Jin-kyu then he would kill him. She watched as the man pulled his fist back, ready to deliver yet another blow to the old man. Her eyes narrowed as she watched. Never before in her life had she felt so useless. The man moved his arm, but he wasn't able to land a punch. A blurry figure had tackled the attacker to the ground. Eunyeong could feel the men behind her move and her arms were free. She rushed to Jin-kyu's side and helped him back to his feet quickly. Instead of fighting, she decided to hold onto his hand and rush away from the scene and towards the farm.

She didn't spare a glance over her shoulder. Her heart was pounding and a light layer of sweat coated her skin. She didn't stop running, even when she and the old man had gone through the farm's entrance. Her feet only came to a stop when she had entered her uncle's office. He sat on the floor in front of a table with tea sitting on it. When he got a good look at the frantic pair in front of him, he shot up from his place on the floor.

"What's happened?" He asked with concern in his voice.

"A damned barbarian boy from the market sent his monkeys to attack us!" Jin-kyu growled out. Eunyeong's eyes widened as she looked over the old man.

"Why would he do that?" Her uncle questioned. She looked over at the middle-aged man. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked between her and her fellow farm worker.

Jin-kyu pulled his wrist away from Eunyeong's grasp. She hadn't even noticed that she was still holding onto the man. "He's infatuated with her. Showed up at the market earlier today and tried running over her like some big man. Must've gotten mad that she stood her ground."

Eunyeong's uncle looked her in the eyes. She could see the shock swimming in his dark irises. "Is this true?"

"Jin-kyu has never been a liar," she breathed out.

"If there's trouble like this happening because of you, girl, then I refuse to allow you to work on my farm any longer." Her uncle told her with a stern voice.

"Uncle, it isn't my fault-"

"I don't give a damn whose fault it is!" The man roared, cutting off her words before she could finish speaking. Her eyes widened at the man's outburst. She had never been spoken to by him in such a manner.

"Sir, she didn't mean to cause any trouble. It was the man's fault," Jin-kyu came to her defense. "She works hard."

Her uncle stared at her a few seconds longer before he turned to face the wall behind him. His hand raised to rest on his hips as he scoffed with disbelief. He stayed this way for a minute or so before he suddenly turned and pointed a finger at his niece.

"Let's go. I'll walk you home tonight. It's too dangerous for you to be on your own," he told her.

The tense woman turned to look at her coworker and bowed. "Please get some rest tonight. I am sorry for causing you trouble."

The man didn't say a word to her. She briefly met his eyes before she slipped out into the evening air. Her uncle followed closely behind her. There was a tense silence between the two as they walked through the farm fields and towards her home. She could see her mother's figure on the porch, watching as the two approached from the distance. When they finally arrived, her mother took one look at her and began clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

"You look filthy child," the woman scolded her. Eunyeong could only look down at her dirty hands with shame. How would she face her father after causing such a disturbance for the farm? It was only a matter of seconds before her uncle would begin explaining why she would no longer be permitted to work.

"Where is my brother?" The man beside her asked. She almost winced at his tone. Her mother's eyes grew bigger at the sound. They averted from her uncle's face and fell onto Eunyeong.

"He's inside. His leg is hurting him more than usual today," Eunyeong's mother explained. "What's wrong?"

The man glanced down at his niece. She could feel his eyes on her. Shame was burning her skin. "I need to speak to him for a moment."

The young woman watched as her mother stepped aside, giving her uncle complete access to the entrance of the house. He did not hesitate in walking inside.

"Mom, I'm so sorry," Eunyeong spoke slowly. Her head was bowed with shame. "Uncle is going to forbid me from working on the farm any longer."

She heard her mother draw in a deep breath. For a moment she thought this was due to surprise brought on by the news. She was corrected when her mother sighed and said, "It was only a matter of time. Women are not meant to be farmworkers."

Her mother's words were more painful than her uncle's had been even when he was yelling at her. Her shoulders dropped while her eyes quickly glossed over with tears. Knowing that she had let down her family was the worst feeling she had ever felt. A blade in her heart would have been less painful than the feeling she experienced at that moment. Footsteps approached the entrance of the house. Her uncle was already departing? She couldn't look up. She didn't want him to see her shameful expression or the tears in her eyes. The feeling of his eyes on her felt like the sun's rays on the hottest summer day. The air in her lungs got stuck in her throat. The man didn't say a word to her, but bid good night to her mother. He bowed and then he left.

Her mother didn't waste another second outside. She listened as the woman retreated into their home and when she knew the woman was gone completely she dropped to her knees. Her head raised so that her eyes could take in the evening sky. Silent curses left her parted lips as her hands swatted away stray tears. The universe had given her an opportunity to prove herself worthy and she had failed to do that. It hurt to know that even her best was not enough.

"I won't give up," she whispered to the empty sky. It was a promise to both herself and the universe that tonight's events wouldn't hold her back from pursuing her goals. She would show her parents that she could do it. She would continue to put food on the table for them. Nothing, not even a foolish man like Howon, could stop her.

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limenysnocket · 4 years

Text

●The Blush Bet●

Pt. III: Our Love. . .

Summary: After their first non-official date, Taika can't get (Y/N) out of his mind. Every time he opens his phone, it's open to her number and a drafted text lays there and taunts him. He sees her at work and longs for her lips on his. There's never a perfect time to strike and it's all left to spoil until he's on her porch, love stricken, and knocking on her door.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, masturbation and pure porn.

Request: @honorarytenenbaum

A/N: My God, is it hot in here or is it just Taika?

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I saw her today, but a new light was casted on her and now I can't get her out of my head.

I always knew she was beautiful, but now she was gorgeous and she taunts me with that. With every step she takes, her hips sway and I swear my eyes must look like the copper in a an old bell, following her curves back and forth, whether it be when she runs or just walks fast past me.

Pedro has been asking both of us questions about the date, and every time I try to ask how she felt about it, he stops me, says he doesn't trade secrets, then leaves me hanging. Yes, I know the date was awful, putting her in that pink dress that I bought on EBay, but I said it was going to be horrible and I'm commonly a man of my word. Although, sometimes I promise a drama and just end up with a sick comedy most of the time. Dreadful, isn't it?

Just-- The way she looks at me, with her eyes all glittery. Maybe it's a translucent force holding me back from going over to her, grabbing her by the cheeks and smashing her lips on mine. I would beg for it... maybe I could, if she didn't mind.

No, that would be too childish... but she was leaving me no choice at this point.

I had betrayed the very rules that I had laid down on the date. She wasn't allowed to fall in love with me, and me and my snarky pride thought I'd be fine and come out of the date feeling free. God damn it, my ego is too big sometimes. I never knew that a woman could level me with her eyes in mere seconds. It happened once, but that ended horribly, obviously. Maybe this time, it will be good. It could be good. Maybe. Maybe.

We brushed shoulders today in the green room and it took every ounce of my being to not pin her to a wall in front of every one. Just one kiss. Maybe just one kiss would end all this, and my feelings could be extinguished rightfully instead of torturing me over one woman.

Like this morning, it had driven me insane. I had to cook my eggs with a hard on and stopped halfway through to deal with it. Because I still had my dignity left, I went to the bathroom to deal with it.

I dropped my boxers and stared at it for a moment, thinking of the reason why it was here, then I remembered. Her. (Y/N).

Images of her face entered my mind and before I knew it, my hand was stroking my raw cock. The images of her began to change, and now very lewd. She was screaming my name like it was the only word she knew and her body seemed to bounce in front of me with every stroke of my hand. If only it were real. If only I could actually simulate her warm cunt around me.

I stood in front of my sink, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed. My forehead glistened with sweat and I was no longer pumping my hand, but thrusting my hips into it. My free hand gripped the sink and my nails etched invisible lines across the marble. The image of (Y/N) still invaded my vision. Damn it, I was even moaning her name. This wasn't supposed to be the way I found out I was in love with her. I could be moaning any past girl's name or even a dream girl, but no. I tried. I tried so hard, but none of them worked, even in the slightest. I was still drawn to (Y/N) like I was attached to her at the hip. I needed her. I needed her bad.

After work and another wank I managed to get my shit together. Well, almost. So many texts were sprawled into my phone, so many "I miss you" notes and "I love you" sticky notes stuck on the island of my kitchen, idea after idea after idea, but I chickened out of every one of them in the end. I'm supposed to be working on the script, but I'll be damned if I let myself accidentally type "(Y/N)" as one of the names in the typing process.

I buried my face in my hands. She was only one call away. One call.

I picked up my phone and bit my bottom lip as it quivered. I didn't even know what I was going to say. Would I flat out say I love her? No, that's too straightforward. Should I ask if I could... Wait, she's home, isn't she? If I could tell her in person, maybe this feeling would leave. Maybe if I could steal one kiss, my heart would stop pounding every time I thought of her. If I just set my standards really high before I kiss her, I will seem underwhelmed and forget all about my feelings for her.

I took a shaky deep breath, nodding as I clicked onto the dial pad and called a cab. I was going to show up to her door, totally unexpected, and beg her to let me kiss her. If it needs to come down to begging.

It was only a mere lightning flash before I was at her door and my hand was raised in the exact same way it was before we came close to kissing that night. I wonder what would have happened if her lips touched mine. Would I be over her or would she be under me?

Thunder rumbled in the sky above me and I realized that I needed to knock on the door and get in fast, before my new Salmon colored shirt and grey pants got ruined. I sucked up all the courage I had and out it into three stiff knocks on her door.

I could hear shuffling around inside and my foot started to bounce. My cab had already pulled out of the driveway, so there was no going back now. My breath accelerated as the locks started to come undone on the door and my hands clenched and so did my heart.

The door slowly tugged open and there, just past the door, was the face I longed to see all throughout the day.

"I need to talk to you," I whispered hot and heavily, my mind silently taking note that she was only dressed in a massive Prince t-shirt.

"S-Sure, okay," she said in a very surprised and shaky voice. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were wide and a little wild. I must have woken her up, perhaps. She offered to let me inside before the rain started pouring down.

"What do you need to talk about?" She whispered to me as I made my way into her living room, rubbing a thumb over the opposite hand's knuckles.

"A lot of things," I said, looking at all the papers sprawled out on her coffee table, notes taken everywhere. She was working over time. Why? I thought she enjoyed her days off. There was something else I noticed. There was a little glimmer of some kind of liquid on the couch and just by it were prints and marks where she had been sitting and/or laying down on the couch. It made me gulp. I must have caught her doing--... oh my...

"You, uh... You might want to sit down for this," I said cautiously and she scurried over and quickly sat down on the couch, her body partially hiding the wet spot. Now, I knew it was for sure.

I took a deep breath, standing only a coffee table away from her. My hands fiddled about. They'd be in my pocket one minute, then fighting each other the next with brutal squeezes. "(Y/N)," I said, my voice very hoarse, then I shook my head. If I was going to beg, I might as well do it properly. I went around the coffee table and got down on my knees in front of her. "I can't stop thinking about you..." I whisper to her. She seems to go into quiet shock, but she nods her head to tell me to keep going. "I've had you on my mind all day. I've tried to stop, but I can't. I fear that this is some sort of sick obsession that has grown ever since... the night on your porch." I gently clasp her hand in mine. She squeezes it softly and looks down at it.

"It's been the same way with me," she muttered, to my surprise. Then, she started reading my thoughts exactly. "Maybe if I had kissed you, this wouldn't have happened and our lives might have stayed right on track... how we used to be..." She looked down and so did I, at our hands as her thumb brushed over my knuckles. "Friends," she said finally, putting an end to her speech.

"I've had the same theory," I say aloud, and lift my free hand to brush a strand of hair out of her face. "Think it's still worth giving a shot?"

I watched her stomach rise and fall slowly, then our eyes connected again and she began to lean in. No need for verbal agreement, I guessed, since she admitted it. My eyes flutter closed even before our lips completely touch, and our foreheads are the first to meet. In the beginning, we're hesitant, but as we sank in closer and our lips met, we no longer had second thoughts.

The kiss was slow and absorbed in feeling; passion, remorse, need and frustration, creating an ungodly mix of emotions all tangled into one. I failed my own plan again and forgot to set my standards high, but even if I did, she would have met them, just ever so perfectly. She tasted of warm peaches and her bottom lip was like a velvet pillow caressing my own lip. She didn't even need to try to be a good kisser. The sensation alone was magnificent.

We both pulled away at the same time. I was still crouched in front of her and ducked my head down, fingers running over my lips and soft pants parting between them. My heart no longer pounded. It fucking swirled. And so did my stomach, apparently. Oh God, I was falling deeper and deeper in love with her right in front of her.

I suddenly feel her hands move under my jaw and she cupped it, lifting my gaze up to meet hers again, that adorable little look she gave. There was a silent pact taken, an agreement, really...

We both needed more.

I was the first to launch up and capture her lips, and this kiss was much rougher than the last one. We both tilted our heads and I slowly rose from my knees and got onto the couch. She laid back, spreading her legs a little to allow me to lay between them. The moment our crotches touched, however, I stopped. It was warm and wet. So much to the point where I could feel it through my pants. I pulled out of the kiss, my expression skeptical, then my eyes flickered to hers. She was looking away with embarrassment. When I had found out that she had been having her alone time to play with herself, I had figured that she still had something on beneath the shirt to at least answer the door. Short shorts or something... Alas, I was wrong.

To confirm my suspicion, I started to grind on her gently. The more I did so, the more I felt my growing tent get dipped into her heat. I had to see it with my own eyes now.

One of my hands, at one time planted by her head, slipped down to the hem of her baggy shirt and brought it up to her chest, exposing not just her heat but the curve of her breasts. My eyes glossed over and I unconsciously licked my lips. There it was. That SHE was. Glistening wet and beautiful.

"You really had some time to think about me, huh?" I grinned cockily. She smacked my arm and huffed a little, cheeks an alarming red.

"Well, if it makes you uncomfortable, we can just shut this whole thing down before it happens," she said and crossed her arms.

"Who said it made me uncomfortable?" I purr and get close to her stomach, pressing a tender kiss to it, before trailing more down, lower and lower. She panted and whined in anticipation like a dog in heat. Patience was the key, in this situation, and I took my time. During my morning masturbation period, I really do have time to think, besides about what (Y/N) might look like completely nude or dressed in something I might like, and I have a tendency of asking myself questions... questions like what might (Y/N) taste like.

I gently pushed two fingers into her slit, then part her folds, my eyes scan everything from her clit down to her hole. My God, everything about her... It drives me crazy. I dove in, flicking my tongue against her bud and that made her mewl my name ever so softly. I needed more of that. I wanted to hear her scream it.

I licked a fat, hot strip from the bottom to the top. I groaned. Fuck, she tasted delicious. She started to cry out as I ate her out properly. Sucking, licking and flicking my tongue across those deliciously sensitive spots. Her legs lifted up and rested on my shoulders and her soft thighs squeezed my head. I let out a soft groan and that seemed to drive her even more crazy. My God, this woman.

My hands gripped her hips and tugged them close, to keep her from squirming away. It wasn't long before she was moaning even louder and her fingers tugged at my hair harshly. My tongue started to thrust in and out of her, something that I hoped to let my dick do in a matter of moments, once she came on my mouth. I clung to her like crazy and pleasured her until she squirted, but even then I stuck to her, drinking up everything she gave me.

My chin was coated and glistening with her juices and I licked my lips free of her taste. I wanted more, but I also knew that she was waiting for the main show. She sat up and beckoned me forward with a curled digit. She first lifted off her shirt to expose everything to me. I started feeling a little bad, being completely dressed, but I didn't have to worry about that for long.

Her hands went straight for my belt and we worked fast together. I undid my button up and threw it off, along with my white undershirt. I smirked at the eagerness in her actions. She practically ripped my boxers off. I don't think I'll be getting them back after all this. Oh well. My thumb went to her clit once I had tossed everything off, but she grabbed my collar and tugged me close. "No more teasing," she growled hotly in my ear. That made me twitch with want. I nodded and took a deep breath, grabbing her by the thighs and dragging her where she was laying down in front of me.

I caressed her body with my hand and I began to kiss her neck, softly and slowly while I started to push into her tight cunt. She was so much tighter than I imagined. She was everything compared to my lubed up hand. She moaned my name into my ear and started to mewl for me. I let her adjust while gripping her hips tightly. I whispered soft curses into her ear.

I can't believe this moment was happening, that I was starting to pound into her wildly, just how I imagined I'd do it if she had actually been there, on my bathroom sink this morning to help deal with the "problem" that occurred. I should have kissed her a whole lot earlier.

I now bury my face into her bosom and kiss the skin between them while my hips bumped against hers violently and passionately. Never has desecrating someone's couch felt so good before.

Our sinful moans, nature and sounds filled the room. The couch rocked beneath our love making and our lips eventually met again. I could still taste her on the tip of my tongue, her essence. She didn't seem to mind. In fact, I quite think she found it to be a sensual aphrodisiac that fueled the fire in both of us. Her hands explored and unconsciously pleasured me, while my hips went wild and pleasured her.

I left little love nips with my teeth all over her body, claiming my territory. New territory. Man, Pedro is going to blow his top whenever he hears about this. Everyone is, probably, once it gets out on set.

"T-Taika~. Oh, fuck~," (Y/N) cried out and she pulsed and tightened around me. It made her start to thrust faster, giving her a burst of roughness.

"How close are you, love~?" I growl in her ear hotly. She only responded with hot moans and deep pants of my name. I needed an answer, so I smacked her ass roughly and massaged it by digging my fingers into it. She cried out sharply and moaned a weak, breathy, "Close~!"

"Good~," I groaned and bit down roughly on her skin again. I started thrusting faster and faster, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. I could feel it.

Oxygen became less and less of a priority the more we made love and the softer our actions became, all the way up to the peak and that's where our true feelings sparkled the most. I pressed my sweaty forehead against hers as she released on my six inch, then I had to pull it out and coat her thighs with my essence. I let my body sink and the only thing that filled the room was our soft pants of each other's names.

"Won't leave me hanging next time I try to kiss you again, right?" I hum softly and wink at her.

"Of course~," (Y/N) whispered back and made me smile as she leaned up and kissed me, her fingers curling into my hair.

What a woman...

#taika waititi x reader #taika waititi #what we do in the shadows #IG-11 #fanfiction #ihopethisisgood #I have never been so nervous about sharing something you guys help

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coinofstone · 4 years

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4x03 The Wicked Day

We're only three minutes into this episode and Arthur's giving Merlin a universally recognized chin-tip of recognition while he is willingly being tied to an upright spinning wooden board, with his arms secured above his head and his legs slightly spread. Yea, there's absolutely no reason for that to make anyone think of Arthur being fastened to a St Andrew's cross, none at all.

Also what is with this show having other ppl shove food in Arthur's mouth

All the knights are clapping and laughing but Percival's looking at the spinning wooden rig like he's having some Thoughts™️

Merlin escorting a drunk Arthur back to his room, where Arthur proceeds to begin undressing himself, is a scene played for comedy - 'haha Arthur's drunk and walking around with his pants down' - but literally all I see is domesticity.

I love drunk!Arthur but I also like Uther with the long hair.

I really like the fight scene with Uther and the baddie, not just bcuz Tony looks good - but because it is giving Uther a bit more agency back. They've never been clear on what his deal is. Gaius has a line in the first episode that makes it sound like depression. Arthur has a line that makes it sound like Alzheimers. Uther's on-screen behavior could go either way, or could be a little of both. I don't really think it's supposed to be definitive. The swordfight, I think, is entirely keeping with both theories. He was asleep when Arthur entered the room, he would've been exhausted after the exertion of attending a feast with such lively entertainment (considering he spends his days staring out a window, that's a big effort for him). The fighting would've woken him up, and even if he were experiencing sundowning, his sword skills would've been ingrained in him since youth, muscle memory like. And there's always the whole, 'super parent' thing, the surge of adrenaline from seeing your kid in danger leading to extraordinary feats. Regardless, it's an improvement over the despondency in the last few episodes where his character was mostly reduced to scenery.

I love Merlin but he's a fucking idiot.

Fair warning, this is probably going to be an unpopular opinion. Merlin is being a self serving manipulative little shit by encouraging Arthur to use magic to heal Uther, presenting himself as a sorcerer to do so, and then claiming his 'price' for healing Uther is, essentially, freedom and equality for all magic users. First of all, as a FRIEND, Merlin should be aware of Arthur's state of mind. Arthur's lived his entire life wondering about his mother who died giving birth to him. Merlin knows how big of a thing it is for him, if it weren't he wouldn't have nearly killed Uther in S2 when he discovered her life was the price for his. NOW, he's just watched his father get stabbed in the heart while saving Arthur's life, on his birthday.

I don't care how much you dislike Arthur, you cannot deny the trauma here. There's no way Arthur doesn't live with a degree of melancholy surrounding his birthday, knowing that it's also the anniversary of his mother's death; and you can't tell me that hasn't been amplified exponentially since he learned the truth from Morgause and confronted his father. Whether he believed Merlin's last minute save that Morgause had been lying and that she conjured an illusion to fool Arthur, is immaterial. You can't un-ring a bell. In his heart he'll always question, he'll always carry the weight of knowing that there's a chance his own life came at the cost of his mother's. And there is no way this doesn't come bubbling up at his birthday every year. They even attempted to show him being 'grumpy' at the start of the episode, Merlin is enthralled by the entertainment that's shown up for his celebration, Arthur would really rather not deal with it. It's not because he's not easily entertained, it's because his birthday isn't something he particularly feels like celebrating. Add to that, now, in the evening after his birthday feast, he's incapacitated by a sedative in his drink and he gets attacked by an assassin. His father saves his life and gets stabbed in the process, a mortal wound. Arthur shouldn't have even been in Uther's chambers! If he hadn't been, Uther wouldn't have been near the fight - he wasn't the target, Arthur was. This is a huge trauma for Arthur, his father paying the price for Arthur's life with his own on the anniversary of his mother unwittingly doing the same thing! Major, massive trauma! Psychological disaster! Merlin, as Arthur's friend, should know that.

I'm not saying Merlin was wrong to go all dragoon again - wanting to conceal his identity so he doesn't reveal his magic is understandable. Merlin's willingness to use magic to save Uther is also ... expected, if not entirely understandable. He's saved Uther many times, this time is only special in Uther wasn't attacked by magic and Arthur asked him directly for assistance with getting someone to use magic to help him. That's a big first.

My problem is with Merlin trying to demand a price from Arthur at all. Even as dragoon. Obviously, I want equality for magical ppl in Camelot. Obviously, I understand Merlin wanting the same. But it does not make sense for Merlin to look at his friend, who is in pain, who is desperate, who is acting unlike himself, and say 'this is exactly the right time to make him promise me to end the war on magic.' He could've said, 'I will do this, but remember this when you are king. Remember when you saw magic used for good.' and that would've been fine. But the fact that he extracted a price from Arthur, in exchange for helping Uther, the fact that he made it a transactional agreement: that's Merlin taking advantage of Arthur in his weakest moment, full stop. And that's entirely out of character for Merlin. It very much comes across as like, 'I've got him right where I want him' which is THE most antithetical thing POSSIBLE to Merlin & Arthur's relationship.

And yes, for all my ranting I do understand that this was part of a plot point to pit Arthur further against magic, to cement his belief in his father's hardline stance against it, to prevent the show from having to prematurely address the issue because Merlin no longer has a reason to hide. It was intended to keep the conflict going, so that they could continue the series with that narrative, and I understand that. Buuuut the same exact end could've been achieved without Merlin eliciting a promise from Arthur when he's clearly under duress.

And speaking of things that don't make sense, why would Gaius hide the enchanted necklace he found on Uther from Arthur? Surely he would want Arthur to know that his attempt had been deliberately thwarted?

Commentary by Alice and Colin

Bit confused by Alice's comments about Uther. She says she didn't think it was a mental illness, but more like he's 'worn out'. She also says Tony had nailed it and that they'd both had experience dealing with older relatives. I don't really understand what she's trying to say at all. Anyway, she wanted him to have an excellent sword fight scene and I think she's succeeded in that.

It's Colin's first time seeing the episode cut so they aren't doing a whole lot of talking unlike 4x01 where Alice and Katie just talked throughout the entire thing.

Alice says there's a drinking game on the internet - drink every time someone gets blasted back by magic. Colin legit said

The end bit where Arthur and Merlin are talking in Arthur's chambers, Colin says it's like what Merlin thought might've been his best chance has become his worst nightmare.

Alice is so proud of the shot of Arthur coming out of the room where Uther's body is laid out with the rising sun in the background streaming through the window, giving him Apollo vibes.

That final moment of Arthur being crowned king. Colin was clearly genuinely impressed with it and told Alice so, she said she was really very lucky to be given that scene to do.

#bbc merlin #bbc merlin spoilers #merlin #merlin spoilers #merthur #onceandfuturerewatch #4x03 #bbc Merlin 4x03 #Merlin 4x03 #4x03 the wicked day #the wicked day

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punkrockmads · 4 years

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Dandelions And Broken Glass

So, this isn't an Abby x Reader fic... this is a story tailored specifically to my personality and it's very important to me. I've been hesitant to post it but, yeah. Here it is!

Light. Flickers of white light fill the darkness. I think of them as tiny fairies flitting about, inviting me back into the cruel reality of life. The warm welcome becomes one of agony when I feel a searing pain in my right side. Slowly, my eyes open. A woman leans over me, moving a flashlight left to right, trying to see if my eyes will dilate. If I'm still alive.

The woman looks down at me with a soft smile, turning off the flashlight with a click and setting it down. Her skin is pale and wrinkled with age, her brown hair slowly graying. She has on a white lab coat. Doctor? Am I in a hospital? No, hospitals don't exist anymore. Not after the outbreak started years ago.

"Glad to see you awake." Her voice is soft; friendly. I'm not used to being near friendly people. "Do you remember what happened?" I shake my head. I have no fucking clue. "A couple of our people found you passed out and bleeding in an abandoned building. Looked like you took quite a fall. Straight onto a bunch of broken glass." I start to piece things together in my head.

I was looking through an abandoned building for supplies when a group of infected jumped me. I tried to run and one ran at me from behind, shoving me forward off of the landing and straight down to the first floor. I remember the sound of glass crunching underneath me and tearing through my clothes and skin. The infected were still coming so I flipped myself over, shooting as my vision went blurry and blood poured from the gaping wound above my right hipbone. When I had shot the last runner, I felt my body go limp and I blacked out.

"You're lucky a couple of our scavenging team members heard your gunshots. You had only been out for a few minutes when they got to you." The woman's voice pulled me back to the present. "I patched you up the best I could. You'll need to rest for a few days. But you'll be back on your feet in no time."

"Where..." I try to speak but my voice is hoarse and my throat is dry. I swallow and try to clear my throat before speaking, my voice rough but clearer. "Where am I?" I go to sit up but the pain in my side forced me back down onto the bed.

"Catalina Island. Welcome to the Fireflies." I furrow my brows. I had heard the Fireflies were regrouping but I never bought into the rumor. I've been alone for about a year now. I used to travel with my older brother before... before he was gone. We had been in groups before but it always ended with the two of us traveling alone. We were a great team. "Can I ask you your name?" The woman continues to give me a warm smile, attempting to make me feel welcomed but I still feel anxious and out of place.

"Madison." I say, bringing my aching arm up to my face to wipe sweat off of my forehead.

"Well, Madison. I'll let you get some rest. For now, just stay in bed and try to be cautious of your stitches." And with that, the woman leaves my line of sight and I hear a door open and close gently.

'Yeah, fuck that.' I think, trying to sit up again. The pain in my side is almost unbearable but I manage to drag my body up and lean against the cream colored wall behind me. I look around, scanning the room I now realize is a bedroom. Most of the bedrooms are overgrown and destroyed; taken back by nature. But this one is clean and comfortable.

There's a small, dark wooden dresser with a mirror in the corner to my right. It's missing a knob on one of the drawers and the edges of the mirror have gathered a bit of dust but, other than that, it looks untouched. A closet with two white double doors is built into the wall to my left. There's a desk with a chair and a little bookshelf next to it in front of me. The wood is light and slightly faded. A few books are placed on the shelf, the spines worn and tattered. The white bedroom door is open, giving me a view of a hallway and an entryway into what looks like a kitchen. The bed rests in the middle of the room but if it was moved just a bit to the left, I'd be able to see more.

What catches my attention is the window on the right wall. The sun shines through the paper thin, pale pink curtains. The warm white sheets under the navy blue comforter brush against my bare legs as I shift to get out of the bed and that's when I realize I'm only wearing a large grey t shirt, my black underwear and my lilac colored sports bra. I look around, trying to find where the hell my clothes are but I can't spot the jeans or burgundy tank top anywhere.

I panic more when I can't find my backpack, gun or switchblade and realize I'm in an unknown place completely unarmed. I go to search for my things but fall back onto the bed as soon as I try to sit up. I lean myself back against the wall and pull the comforter over my legs, feeling a bit cold. I grit my teeth at the pain in my side and lift the shirt to see a large white bandage with spots of blood seeping through. 'I'm completely fucked. These people could kill me at any minute.' I tell myself. I pull the shirt back down and lean back against the wall, groaning a bit. 'Fuck, brother. What have I gotten myself into?' I feel myself start to panic, heart beginning to pound, breaths becoming quick and shallow.

I'm trying to calm myself down, staring at the covered window when I hear a door open. I turn my head to the door, holding my breath. A young boy walks into the room quietly. He's got short black hair and scars on his face... From the corners of his mouth to his temples... Seraphite. He's carrying a medicine bottle and some water. He sees me looking at him and smiles, nodding at me as a greeting before turning to look back the way he came.

"Abby, she's awake!" 'Abby?' I think. 'Is that the doctor from before?' I hear a woman's voice respond with 'I know.' Boy, was I wrong. A woman walks in behind him, closing the door she had come through. I get one look at her and I feel like my stomach is doing backflips. 'Holy shit, she's beautiful.' Her long, golden hair is pulled back into a braid. Her skin is pale and dotted with freckles. She has more muscle than I could ever dream of gaining. And those eyes... I look away before she can catch me staring.

"Hey," Her voice is smooth and sweet like honey. It makes me look back to her instantly. She's smiling at me. Warm and welcoming. Her smile is pretty. I feel my face heat up a bit but I don't look away from her eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got stabbed by a lot of glass and woke up with a stranger staring at me." I say with a joking smile. My throat is still a bit scratchy but my voice is back, for the most part. She laughs lightly, arms crossed over her chest. Her laugh sounds like sweet music. Abby and the boy walk into the bedroom, Abby sitting down on the bed beside my right leg, careful not to move me and risk hurting me more. The boy grabs the chair from the desk and pulls it over to sit in front of her. I tense a bit at his presence. I don't have the best history with Seraphites. Abby seems to notice my concern and starts talking to draw my attention back to her.

"I'm Abby and this is Lev." She gestures toward Lev who hands me a bottle of water and sets the pills on the dresser. I nod, giving him a silent thank you.

"I'm Madison." I say, running my index finger along the edge of the plastic bottle cap.

"Cute name." Abby compliments and I feel my face heat up again. The way her light red tank top and blue jeans hugs her strong figure makes it hard for me to not stare but I have to focus on my safety first. "Do people call you Maddy?" I look at her face again, her brown eyes looking straight into my pale blue pair.

"I suppose." I laugh a bit, remembering the nickname from when I was a kid. I take a small sip of the water Lev had given me, immediately grateful for the way it soothed my aching throat.

"Cool." Abby's lips are a soft tinge of pink. I scold myself for admiring her when I should be figuring out what my next move is.

Lev speaks up from beside me. "Why were you alone out there? Do you have any people?" I see Abby give him a stern look, silently scolding him for asking a question like that when I had just woken up. I don't say anything, not because of the question but because I'm in the same room as a Seraphite and he isn't trying to kill me. "I'm sorry." Lev says after a moment of silence. "I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories."

"Oh, no. It's okay, honestly." I say quickly, giving him an assuring smile. "I just... I've never met a Seraphite who hasn't tried to kill me immediately." At that, Lev reaches to touch the scar on his left cheek and for a moment I think I've offended him but he just chuckles.

"I can see why you'd think that but I'm not a Seraphite. Not anymore, at least. Most of the Seraphites are gone." He explains. I relax a bit.

"Thank God for that." I sigh. "I seriously don't need to run into that group ever again."

"That goes for all of us." Abby cuts in, kicking Lev in the ankle lightly. I can see their brother- sister dynamic and it makes me even more sure that Lev is okay. If Abby trusts him, so can I. Abby looks me up and down before meeting my eyes again. I see something flash in her eyes for a split second before it disappears. "You should try to eat something. You've been out for a few days." My eyes widen at that.

"Days?! I thought it had only been a few hours!"

"Time tends to go by quickly when you're passed out." Abby laughs and my stomach fills with butterflies again at the sound. "Hey, Lev?" She turns to the boy. "You okay going down to the cafeteria and grabbing Maddy something?"

"Sure!" Lev grins, standing up and leaving the room. When the door he leaves through closes, Abby looks back to me.

"How are those stitches treating you?" I look to my side, lightly brushing my hand over it through the shirt.

"Could be worse." I shrug. It's better than being infected.

"Mind if I see?" Her question catches me off guard a bit but I don't have anything against it.

"Sure." I say. I lift the right side of the shirt up just to the end of my sports bra, revealing the bandages to Abby. I suddenly feel a bit exposed and what makes it worse is I'm exposed to this drop dead gorgeous girl who is focused on me. I jump slightly in shock when she delicately runs her fingers over the bandages.

"Sorry!" She says, pulling her hand back as though she's touched a hot flame. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay. You didn't hurt me." I tell her.

"Okay. I just forget my own strength sometimes." She laughs, blushing a little. She's cute when she's shy. "Makes me regret all the muscle."

"I think you look great." I say with a small burst of confidence. "And that muscle has probably saved your life more than a dozen times so that makes it even better." She laughs louder this time, her embarrassment fading away.

"Well, not to brag but they do come in handy. Y'know, saving lives and all." She moves to flex her arms before moving her focus back to the bandages, pressing on them lightly. I feel my heart rate speed up at the way her muscles tense. Her tough build perfectly compliments her kind personality and soft eyes. 'Oh, Brother. What am I gonna do about this girl?' "So. What Lev asked... how long have you been alone?" I swallow, not sure if I was ready to tell her about everything. I just met her.

"It's been me and my older brother for as long as I can remember. We were a team. Always looking out for each other." I say, the faint image of him being burned alive singed into my mind. "But he's been gone for a year or so now. I've been alone ever since." I choke back tears, refusing to cry.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Sounds like you guys were pretty close." She smiles at me with sympathy, pulling my shirt back down and reaching for my right hand. I let her grab it, feeling her squeeze it gently but firmly. Her hands are warm and soft.

"We were." I let out a breath. "He's gone now, though. So it doesn't matter." When it comes to the memory of my brother, I prefer to shut it out and forget about it. It doesn't stop the nightmares, though. The flames. The yelling that haunts my dreams. The smell of burning flesh.

"I lost my dad when I was fourteen." Abby says and I feel a pang of hurt for her. The fact that she had gone through something like that made me want to protect her from ever feeling that pain again. I have to keep myself from reaching over and hugging her, afraid to overstep my boundaries.

"It took a lot but I managed to get through it." Her tone is calm and almost relieved.

"What a fucked up world we live in, Abby." I say, giving her hand a small squeeze.

"Damn right, Maddy." How could someone be this wonderful? She jumps a little when the door opens and slams shut but doesn't let go of my hand until Lev comes into the bedroom with a small tin can and a plastic spoon. "Thanks, Lev." She says, taking the can and spoon from him. I feel my heart sink a little when her warm hand lets go of mine.

"Mhm," Lev nods, sitting himself cross-legged on the chair. "I thought that might be easier for you to eat." He says to me. I smile at his thoughtfulness.

"Thank you, Lev." I say and I see his smile grow wider. Abby hands me the can and I read the worn label. 'Fruit Cocktail'. I pull on the tab but I don't have enough strength to open the can and my hands are a little shaky. This frustrates me because it shows that my injury did more damage than I thought. "Dammit." I groan.

"Hey, take it easy." Abby says in a soft tone, reaching for the can. I let her take it back. "You got pretty fucked up back there. I'm surprised you were able to sit up on your own." She says with a playful tone, opening the can, grabbing the spoon and sticking it into the container of fruit.

"Alright." I roll my eyes, trying unsuccessfully to hide my grin. "What, are you gonna try to feed me now, too?" Abby chuckles, shifting to sit cross-legged in front of me. I can see Lev shaking his head at us with a smile, playing with the buttons on his coat.

"Try?" Abby snorts playfully. "Use that tone and I'll do more than try."

"Whatever you say." I giggle and I see that flash of emotion in her eyes again. What was it? Why does it feel like I've known her forever? She hands me the can again and I slowly start eating. "So who do I have to thank for saving my life?"

Abby rubs the back of her neck as she looks at me, her grin turning sheepish. A sign of nervousness.

"Us, I guess." Lev answers. "We were the ones who found you."

"Is that why you guys came to check on me? Have you been doing that since I got here?"

"Yeah. Abby carried you back to our truck and got you to the infirmary. She stayed with you while you got patched up but I wasn't allowed in the room so she let me set up the apartment for you." As Lev explains, the urge to hug the two of them, especially Abby, grows stronger. But I don't want to make them uncomfortable.

"Well, thank you." I say to him before looking at Abby. Her shy gaze meets mine and her face heats up a bit. "Thank you both."

It's quiet for a minute as my eyes stay focused on Abby's. She coughs a bit before standing up, patting my knee. "Okay, you need to eat and rest so I won't have to open more cans for you. Those pain meds work great but they'll make you exhausted. I'll come check on you in a bit." I nod, watching as she stretches a bit. "C'mon, Lev." Lev stands up, putting the chair back before following Abby to the door. "See you soon." She smiles at me, nudging Lev toward the front door. I wave at the two of them, already missing their presence.

"You like her, don't you?" I hear Lev ask and my heartbeat speeds up.

"I- ye- okay, go! You're on dish duty tonight!" Their voices fade as they walk away. I want to laugh at Abby's reaction but it fills me with too much joy for me to comprehend. 'She might feel the same!'

Abby was right, those pain meds do make you exhausted, because I fall asleep and by the time I wake up, Abby is back. She's beside me again, brushing a bit of stray hair out of my face with her fingers. She smiles softly at me when she sees me blink away the sleepiness in my eyes.

"Hi." I manage to mumble, taking in the sight of this stunning person in front of me.

"Hi." She responds, quietly. "Did you sleep okay?" I nod, attempting to sit up. Abby notices my struggle and moves to place her hand on my back, gently guiding me forward as though she's afraid she'll break me if she isn't careful. "I brought you some new clothes." She says. "Figured you'd wanna get cleaned up."

"Definitely." I respond with a sigh. "I probably smell like garbage." Abby laughs.

"Nah." She says. "More like blood, sweat and dirt." She teases.

"Oh, wow. Very precise." I joke, laughing with her.

"Well, lucky for you, we have running water." She nudges my right shoulder lightly. Why is she so kind to me? Suddenly, I realize I'm missing something.

"My backpack?" I question, my eyebrows raised in slight worry.

"Oh, right!" Abby stands, leaving the room for a moment and returning with my brown leather backpack. I reach out, silently asking her to hand it to me and she does, sitting back down in her spot. I frantically dig through the bag, seeing my knife, gun and small journal before pulling out a silver chain with a pendant attached. I grip it tightly, letting out a breath of relief as I hold it to my heart. "What is it?" Abby asks, curiously. I show her the pendant.

"It was my brother's." I say, smiling at the small, silver Firefly pendant.

"Your brother was a Firefly?" She asks. I shake my head.

"No. Our father was in Salt Lake before he and my mother decided to leave the group. He and my mom died when I was only a few weeks old. My brother was five. He used to wear it. Hell, he never took the thing off. Said he was gonna join the Fireflies again someday." My smile falters a bit, remembering his shaky hand pressing the pendant into my palm. That was the last time I saw him smile.

"My dad and I were Fireflies." Abby says, knowingly drawing me out of my thoughts. "He was a doctor at St. Mary's." So, our parents probably knew each other.

"Well, I guess you're a Firefly again." I say with a small tinge of happiness.

"Yeah." She chuckles. "And, if you want... you can stay and be a Firefly, too?" It's more of a question than a statement.

I think it over, running my finger along the metal firefly. "I'd like that." I say, nodding at her. I see her eyes brighten and her smile grow a bit, causing mine to grow, too.

"I'm glad." She says, simply. I can tell she's holding back some of her joy but the way she lights up doesn't go unnoticed by me. "C'mon. Let's get you cleaned up." I turn to swing my legs off the bed, letting my feet touch the cold, wooden floor. Abby moves to stand in front of me, bending down a bit to grab my hands. I let her pull me up, my legs shaking a bit. I bite my tongue, trying not to cry out in pain. 'Fuck, my side is killing me!'

"Are you okay?" Abby asks, clearly sensing my discomfort. I grab her forearms, feeling her muscles tense as she helps me stand up straight as carefully as she can. She's a few inches taller than me so I have to look up a bit to meet her eyes. They're filled with worry. The freckles on her face look like little stars. "You want me to carry you?"

"It's okay." I breathe. "I've got this." As much as I want to be held in her strong arms, I have to do everything I can to get my strength back. I begin walking towards the bedroom door, letting Abby move to place her left hand on my lower back for support. I cling to her right arm as she slowly guides me out of the bedroom and into the hallway. I look around, noticing the red front door, the little kitchen with the white, slightly chipped cupboards, the marble counters and oak stools, the living room with the grey couch and matching armchair, the glass coffee table sitting on a small, pale green rug and the medium sized television resting on a black stand. The whole place looks like something out of a catalog I had found while my brother and I were holed up in a store once.

"This way." Abby says quietly, walking me to a white door to the left, just before the front door. She moves her left hand from my back to turn the silver handle and push the door open before quickly placing it back. The bathroom's cold, tile floor makes me shiver slightly as I tread forward carefully. I sit down on the lid of the toilet, only managing with Abby's help, and let out a small groan. I instantly notice how close her face is to mine, cheeks almost touching as she makes sure I'm situated.

She handles me as if I'm a fragile porcelain doll. I feel her hot breath on my face as she lets go and stands up straight. I barely understand her as she asks if I need help getting undressed, too caught up in my thoughts. I just look up and shake my head and she nods, a stunning smile on her face as she turns away to start the shower, giving me as much privacy as she can. I peel the shirt off my body, goosebumps forming on my exposed skin. The sight of Abby crouched by the bathtub, steam traveling around her and the light on the ceiling acting as a spotlight distracts me from the stabbing feeling above my right hip. She looks angelic. I wish I could take a picture of her in this moment. I manage to strip myself of my last bit of clothing, leaving me fully exposed and a bit anxious. I instinctively cross my hands over my breasts. I've never been very confident in my appearance and being in front of a beautiful girl that I've only met today is not the most comfortable feeling in the world. My ash blonde hair, pale skin, icy blue eyes and barely toned build are nothing compared to Abby's perfectly sculpted figure. She looks like a goddess. It makes me almost hate my body even more, riddled with a hint of jealousy.

"Okay," She sighs, standing up and turning around to look at me. I instantly feel her eyes on me but they aren't glaring at my body. She looks at my face. Only at my face. She never makes a move to look at my body, keeping her gaze only on my flushed cheeks, giving a small smile that immediately brings me comfort. I notice her cheeks slowly growing red as I remember what Lev had asked her. 'Does she feel the same?' Abby takes my hand, keeping her focus on my eyes, pulling me to my feet. I stumble forward a bit, letting out an involuntary whimper. Abby puts an arm out in front of me, the other wrapping around my shoulders as she helps me regain my balance.

"I've got you." She says in a voice that makes me melt. I notice a bit of panic in her eyes and I nod, letting her know I'm okay. She makes sure I'm able to lean against the wall and steps out to grab the clothes she had brought. The warm water soothes my aching muscles. As I wash all of the dirt and filth, I try to imagine what my brother would say about the way I stare at Abby. He would've teased me about her. He would've told me to make the first move, knowing I never could. I don't even know if Abby likes me. The way she looks at me can't be just friendly, can it?

A few minutes later, Abby comes back in, setting the change of clothes on the bathroom counter. "You good?"

"Yeah, I'm good." I respond. I lean down to shut the water off but the stitches only let me get so far. Eventually I give up, annoyed at how incapable I am. "Shit. Abby, can you turn the shower off please?"

Abby chuckles at my frustration. "Hang on." I watch her hand peek through the blue shower curtain and turn the shower off before it disappears again. She slowly opens the curtain, handing me a soft, purple bath towel. I wrap it around me before I can get goosebumps. I put on a clean outfit; pastel purple underwear, a light gray and black sports bra, a black tee shirt and, with some help from Abby, I manage to wiggle into a pair of dark red sweatpants. She helps me go out into the living room, sitting beside me on the surprisingly comfy couch."I figured pyjamas were the more comfortable option. There are some day clothes hanging in your closet for when you're ready to get out of your little apartment. Oh, and I've gotta say, your black combat boots are seriously awesome." I smile at her, drying my hair with the towel.

"Thanks." I smile, grateful for everything Abby has done for me. "And they're pretty damn nice."

"Ever crushed an infected's skull with them?" She asks with a playful grin.

"Actually, a few times." I start. "One time, a runner's eyeballs squeezed out of it's skull!"

"Oh, gross!" Abby snorts, kicking off her worn gray sneakers and sitting cross legged, body turned towards me.

"Yeah." I say, faking a frown. "Poor dude will never model again." We both laugh. I look to the far wall, out the big bay window that had one long, green curtain pulled to the side and held with twine. The sun is setting, painting the sky in orange and yellow hues. The ocean rests below, blending with the scenery.

"Nice view, huh?" Abby's voice draws my attention back to her. I notice her eyes look me up and down quickly as she bites her lip. 'Did I just see that right?'

"It is." My voice is soft. I feel completely calm, sitting here beside Abby. I could sit here with her forever. Forget about the horrors that lie outside.

"Can I change your bandage?" She's hesitant with her question, knowing it's going to hurt me. I give her a nod, letting her know I fully trust her. She picks up on my silent message. "Okay. Let me grab a few things." Abby turns on the living room light and disappears into the bathroom for a minute before coming back out with a med kit. "Lie back." Her voice is commanding but gentle. I do as she says, shifting to lay on the couch. She kneels beside me on the floor, putting the med kit on the coffee table behind her. I fidget with my fingers as she lifts my shirt up, not quite sure what to do. She's so careful, slowly removing the bandages and gauze, revealing the wound that brought me to her in the first place. The stitches look almost perfect but there will still be evidence of it when it heals.

"That's gonna leave a nasty scar." I mumble, noticing her pouring hydrogen peroxide onto a white cloth.

"It's gonna look super cool, though. Makes you look like a total badass." She smiles at me for a second before looking at the cloth in her hands, then at my wound. "So... this is gonna suck." Her smile turns into one of pity.

"Yeah, but it's gotta get done." I mumble. She nods, pausing for a moment. As soon as she presses the cloth to my side, my back arches off the couch and I hiss in pain, clenching my eyes shut.

I feel Abby grab my hand and I squeeze hers tightly, choking back a small scream. "Hey, look at me, Maddy." I look at her face. She's calm but clearly not enjoying the pain she's inflicting. She keeps her cool, looking at me with those big, hazel eyes. Her gaze instantly brings me comfort. "Just focus on me, okay?" I nod, keeping my eyes on her. "Just listen to my voice. I'll be done soon, I promise. But I need you to stay still." When she touches the cloth to my skin once more, I tense, willing myself to stay put for her. She lets me squeeze her hand as hard as I need, probably not even bothered by it.

It's quiet for a few seconds before Abby speaks again. "I'm scared of heights." She says, simply. "Lev and I had to walk on these super high, narrow bridges once. I'm talking skyscraper high! I thought I was gonna die right on that bridge. I felt dizzy, couldn't breathe properly. But Lev, he just kept walking like he was on solid ground. He kept trying to get me to find my true strength or something like that." She laughs a little. I watch the way her lips curve into a small smile and, for a moment, I think about what it'd be like to kiss them. "Well, shit went to hell when my vision started getting blurry and I slipped. I was just dangling there and I swear I felt my heart drop into my stomach. Lev tried to pull me up but we both fell and smashed into this glass skylight. We landed in a pool that was underneath us, thank fuck. So, we both swim out of the pool and I'm just laying there gasping for air and Lev stands up beside me and he's immediately ready to keep moving. As if we didn't just almost fall to our deaths." I smile at her story, picturing Lev babying her. I don't even notice her set the cloth down and reach for gauze and bandages until she let go of my hand.

"I'm scared of the ocean." I laugh at my own stupid fear. Abby lets out a small chuckle.

"So is Lev." She grins. "Why are you scared of it?"

"I can't swim." I smile at her look of disbelief.

"You seriously can't swim?" She raises a brow, briefly pausing to look at me.

"Yep." I confirm, slightly embarrassed.

"How the hell do you not know how to swim?"

"I never got a chance to learn." I shrug. She goes back to applying the thick cloth bandages.

"Well, I guess we'll have to teach you how to swim." She stands up, carrying the med kit back to the bathroom and I move to sit up on the couch, slouching against the arm of the surprisingly comfortable furniture. I can't help but stare when she goes into the kitchen. She opens the refrigerator and goes to pull out a couple water bottles, giving me a perfect view of her backside. I bite my lip and look away. Silently scolding myself for staring. "Wanna watch a movie?" She asks, leaning in the entryway of the kitchen that's connected to the living room.

"Sure." I say. "But what about Lev?" Abby sets down the water bottles and a bottle of pain killers on the coffee table before she goes over to the TV stand, crouching down to open a small cupboard and pulling out a few DVD cases.

"He's staying the night at a friend's house." She says, looking through the DVDs. "I use the word friend lightly because I'm pretty sure Lev has a crush on him but he won't admit it." She gossips.

"Is Lev gay?" I ask, not meaning to sound rude.

"Yeah. He's also transgender." She explains. "Why? Is that an issue?" Her tone becomes defensive and she glares at me over her shoulder.

"Why would it be?" Her gaze softens at my words. "Hell, I'm not straight either." At that, she lights up just slightly but enough for me to notice. "Men are okay. Prefer women, though." I explain, simply.

"I'm with you on that." And at that, I light up. Abby smiles at me, turning on the TV and putting a DVD into the player. She grabs the remote, going to turn off the light before sitting back down on the couch. As she starts the movie, I contemplate moving to sit closer to her but I decide against it. I picture what it would be like to have her lips pressed against mine, her hands tangled in my hair, my arms wrapped around her neck, her body so close to mine.

"Here." Abby says and I jump a bit. She just smiles and I know she noticed but she doesn't point it out. Instead, she hands me two painkillers and a water. I thank her, taking them and turning my attention to the movie, letting myself get completely sucked into the story of this random popular schoolgirl character. Thoughts of Abby loom in the back of my mind.

Halfway through the movie, I fall asleep. When I wake up again, Abby is gone and I'm in my bed, wrapped up in the warm blankets, the daylight shining through the window. 'This bitch carried me to bed!'

It's been many months since I've joined the Fireflies. I adjusted rather quickly and fit in well with the others. The sparks between Abby and I are only growing stronger and our feelings for each other are obvious to everyone. Everyone including Lev who has become like a younger brother to me.

"Seriously!" Lev sits at the kitchen counter, working on a drawing of a horse while I do dishes. "You need to tell her! She already knows! Everyone does!" He gestures towards the front door for emphasis. I laugh at him, placing another dish into the drying rack.

"I can't just go up to her and say 'Hey, Abby. I love you and I really, really want you to be mine so we can be a family and grow old together.'. It's not that easy!" Lev sighs, grinning at me.

"Yeah, it is that easy."

"Oh really?" I turn to him, raising my brow in a pointed look. "Then how come you haven't told that boy you like him?" His face turns beat red and he looks back to his drawing, practicing his shading skills. "That's what I thought." I chuckle at his silence. I look out the living room window behind me to see the sun slowly going down. The sky will be painted with vibrant orange soon. "Actually, she should be back by now." My heart sinks a little at the thought of something happening to Abby while she's out on a run.

"She'll be back soon." Lev reassures. I just bite my lip, hoping everything is okay.

I really start to worry when the sun is almost gone and Abby still isn't back. I fidget with my fingers while I sit on the couch beside Lev, trying to distract myself with whatever movie Lev put on. My panic doesn't go unnoticed by Lev.

He puts his hand on my shoulder. "She's tough, Maddy." He reasons. "She's gonna be back soon and you're both gonna look at each other with that same lovestruck face you guys always do." I roll my eyes at his last comment. He isn't wrong, though. About half an hour later, there's a knock on the door.

"Maddy? It's me!" I let out a breath of relief at the sound of Abby's voice, jumping up to greet her. She opens the door, barely having enough time to close it behind her before I run over and wrap my arms around her neck, pulling her into a tight hug. She stumbles back a bit before wrapping her arms around my waist and pulling me close. "Hey." She chuckles. I bury my face in her neck, the material of her light jacket brushing against my right cheek.

"How was the run?" I ask. I want to be angry at her for being late and making me worry but all I can feel is relief that she's here and okay.

"Good." She says, shuffling her backpack off her shoulders when I pull away to examine her for any wounds. Thankfully, I find none. "Sorry I'm late. The damn truck kept stalling and Aaron dropped a crate of supplies at the gate."

"That guy's such a ditz." I laugh. Abby shakes her head, laughing with me as I take her hand and pull her into the living room. "I'm glad I'm going with you next time. I'm always worried he's gonna get you killed."

"Hey, Abby." Lev turns away from the movie to smile at her. He looks at me with a smirk. "I told you she was okay." I roll my eyes at him.

"Hey, goober." Abby grins at him, walking over to ruffle his hair, not letting go of my hand. "Good day?" I release Abby's hand, shaking her shoulder lightly and going into the kitchen to pick up Lev's drawing stuff. Normally, I'd make him clean up after himself but I decide to leave him be.

"Yeah!" Lev's voice is cheerful as he answers Abby. "We had spaghetti for dinner and Maddy let me help her make sauce with some tomatoes from the garden instead of trying to find a jar!"

"That sounds fun! Did you help or did you make a mess of her kitchen?" God, she can be such a mom.

"A bit of both." I chuckle, handing Lev his art book and pencils. "Made you a plate, too. Figured you'd forget to eat and go straight to bed again." I cross my arms, looking at Abby with a knowing smile. She knows I don't like when she forgets to eat.

"Thanks, Mads. I really appreciate it." I just give a simple nod, letting my arms drop to my side. I wish I could kiss her. She lets out a deep breath. "C'mon, Lev. It's getting late."

"Okay." Lev says quietly, turning off the TV and standing up beside Abby. I go to grab the plate of spaghetti from the kitchen, making sure the plastic wrap is secured around the plate.

"Here." I hand Lev the plate since he's put his stuff in Abby's backpack and she's busy pulling the straps over her shoulders. "Make sure she actually eats for me, okay?" I grin, playfully.

"Promise." He smiles back.

"Oh my God, can you both stop babying me?" Abby says with an annoyed tone.

"Never." I tease, reaching up to wrap my arms around her neck once more. I close my eyes, feeling the warmth radiating off her skin as she hugs back. "But seriously." I mumble, lips brushing against her freckled cheek. "Promise me you'll remember to eat?"

I feel Abby nod. "I promise." I hum in approval, letting her go and looking at her flushed face. She opens the front door, moving so Lev can leave first.

"Bye, Maddy." Lev says, walking past us and out the door.

"Bye, kiddo." I say back. "Goodnight." I say softy to Abby. She rubs the back of her neck.

"Goodnight." Abby mutters, closing the door behind her as she leaves. I stare for a minute at the door, contemplating whether I should run after her or not. But I just turn away and decide to get ready for bed.

His face. His screams. I'm in a nightmare and I can't wake up. I want to reach out for him. I want to save him. But I know I can't leave my hiding spot or the Seraphites will find me. He yells and swears, clothes quickly catching fire. I can only sit and watch as his body hangs there, becoming charred. Unrecognizable. I have to help him! I can't move! Please, no! He cries out for me, yelling 'why won't you help me?!' and 'You coward!'. Things my brother would never actually say. But it all feels so real.

I sit up quickly, gasping for air as I look around my bedroom for flames. It's dark, the only light coming from the window. I can't get the image of him out of my head. 'Oh, brother.' I think, tears pouring down my face. 'I wish you were here.' I try to lay back down and go to sleep but I can only sit there, paralyzed. I let out a small sob, trying to think of what to do. Abby. I need Abby.

Before I can think, I'm putting my jacket on over my pyjamas and lacing up my combat boots. I leave my dark apartment and head down the stairwell to Abby's. I let myself mindlessly wander there, choking on sobs. When I get to her door, I knock lightly and instantly feel bad. What if I woke her or Lev? Before I can turn back, the door opens. Abby stands there in a pair of black sweatpants and a gray t shirt. Her face instantly contorts with worry when she sees my red eyes and puffy cheeks.

"Maddy?" She steps forward, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, what's wrong?" I can't stop myself from letting out another sob, more tears falling down my face mercilessly. She wraps her arms around me but I can't find the strength to hug her back.

"I'm sorry." I whimper into her shoulder. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"It's okay. You didn't wake me, Mads." She reassures me. "I was reading. Here, come inside." She gently pulls me inside, closing the front door. "Wanna tell me what happened?" She doesn't try to pressure me. She just waits for me to speak, rubbing my back.

"I had a nightmare." I say, feeling childish. "About my brother. I just... I needed you." I mumble the last bit, face heating up.

Abby takes my hand, pulling me with her. "C'mon. Let's go to bed." I let her guide me into her bedroom, tugging off my jacket and boots before crawling onto her bed. She closes the door and turns off the light before laying down beside me. She pulls the comforter over us and I shift to lay my head on her chest, curling into her left side. She drapes her right arm over my waist and runs her fingers through my hair with her other hand. I cling to her shirt, my tears drying on my cheeks.

"I'm sorry." I whisper, feeling like a burden.

"You have nothing to apologize for." Abby says. Without thinking, I shift to wrap my legs with hers, begging to be closer to her, to feel her presence as she slowly brings me back to reality. "What happened to your brother? I mean... Sorry. You don't have to answer."

"The Seraphites caught him." I swallow the lump in my throat. "They, um... they burned him. I had to watch."

"I'm so sorry, Maddy." I shake my head, letting her know it's okay.

"His name was Kai." I say. "He used to call me Dandelion because my mom said I made wishes come true." I laugh, quietly.

"Dandelion." Abby ponders the nickname. "It suits you."

"Abby?" I shift to look at her, my face hovering above hers. Her eyes widen a bit, flickering from my lips to my eyes and I catch myself doing the same to her.

"Hmm?" I place my left hand on her cheek, rubbing it softly with my thumb.

"I love you." I say. Before I can process anything, Abby pushes my head forward, pressing our lips together. The kiss is long, needy and full of love. Our eyes close. Her lips are warm and sweet. Soft. We don't pull away till our lungs are burning, pleading for air.

"I love you, too." She whispers, tracing my bottom lip with the pad of her thumb. I give her a small, tired smile, pecking her lips once more before resting my head back on her chest. Her arms are around me once more and I feel safe. At home. This is where I belong. With her and Lev. "Goodnight, Dandelion."

So, this is a thing now! I hope you guys liked it and, if not, I'm sorry lol. Here's a photo of me cause idk how to end this Author's Note

#abby tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson #lev tlou #personal

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