#hi everyone actually reading the tags! please ignore the jumped up stairs on the last pic lmao

[eloquent-vowel]

I have had a few bucky x read fic ideas bouncing around in my head and i cant write! So here is one,

Sam find a person who stairs and doesnt talk a whole lot because they uses ✨telepathy ✨. So Sam think they would be a good fit for Bucky, but he doesn’t know they have that power he just thinks they are mute. Then there is a thing where the reader is telling Buck how it works and they if they have something to connect them together like an object *reader motions to dog tags* they can have an unbreakable mind link. Then they fall in love or something. This is dumb, thank you for coming to my TedTalk

Hey! Thank you so much for this request, it wasn't dumb at all. I really enjoyed writing this. I may have gotten a bit carried away, this may sit close to 4000 words but we vibe. I hope this is what you had in mind! Please enjoy! <3

Click here for my masterlist of other fics and check in my bio for requests if anyone wishes to ask!

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Bucky had been enjoying a moments peace, he loved working with Sam but sometimes all he wanted was to put his feet up, put on some vinyl and enjoy a good cup of coffee all while reading a brilliant book. He had been trying to get into Game of Thrones lately, on Sam’s insistence, and he had been enjoying it. With the crackles of Glenn Miller from the turntable he missed the clunky footsteps coming up the stairs.

The sight that greeted Sam needed to be photographed. Bucky was lounging back on his ‘old man armchair’ feet up, hair in a towel, in a bathrobe, coffee in hand and facemask on, this was definitely one for the family album.

At the sound of the phone shutter Bucky practically launched himself out of the chair.

“Oh, you are never gonna live this one down old boy, it’s going to haunt you.” Sam almost cackled evilly as he began to email the photo to himself- he had learnt the hard way that Bucky was very proficient at breaking phones.

“You better not upload that photo anywhere, Wilson, I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Pfft, reputation, that’s funny.”

Bucky scoffed as he stood up, placing his book carefully on the side table, “Big scary super soldier, people hardly run-in fear from a guy in a bathrobe.”

“I disagree, a man in a bathrobe is definitely something you should run from. AH NOPE!” Sam jumped backwards, on top of a nearby chair, as Bucky lunged for the phone, towel turban falling off in the process. “You are not breaking this phone as well.”

“Fine. But you gotta promise not to post that anywhere.” Bucky huffed.

“I won’t.”

“Good.”

“As long as- “

“Oh no, I’m not doing anything for you.”

“Think of it as payment for the last phone you broke and insurance for this picture.”

There was silence for a moment as the two friends eyed each other up. Sam raised his eyebrows, Bucky’s eyes narrowed. It was an intense staring match between a guy in a bathrobe and a precariously balanced man. A clock ticked.

“Fine.” Bucky conceded. “What do you want?”

“For you to come to a meeting.”

“The families of Veterans ones?”

“Yeah.” Sam slowly started climbing down from the chair. “And before you get your old man pants in a twist, I’m not trying to force you to talk or anything, kinda.”

“Kinda?” Suspicion laced through Bucky’s voice.

“You know sign language, right?”

“Which kind?”

“American? I think?”

“Yeah, I know ASL, might be a bit rusty but I’m sure it still holds up. Why do you ask?”

Sam shifted slightly on his feet, “There’s this person, they come in every week and listen. I tried to talk to them, but they communicate through sign language, and I don’t have anyone there to talk with them.” He cast his eyes to the floor, “I feel bad. They were brave enough to come to the group only to basically be ignored ‘because we didn’t plan well enough.”

Bucky smiled, face mask crinkling around his smile lines, “You could have just asked me to Sam. You didn’t have to blackmail me into this, of course I’ll help. When’s the next meeting?”

“This evening. You gonna be ready or do you need some more ‘me’ time.”

Bucky simply chuckled at Sam’s teasing tone, patted his shoulder making sure to squeeze just a bit too hard before retreating to his room.

“I’ll be there, Wilson, and I will look so much younger than you!”

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It was frustrating to you, going along to these meetings and not being able to communicate. You could always speak into someone’s mind but all that usually accomplished was a very paranoid person. But just listening to other’s stories really helped the grief from losing someone so close to you. You related to most of the people there and even though they didn’t understand you a lot of the time, you were always made to feel welcome- with friendly pats on the back and the odd tissue thrown your way.

You bustled into the familiar building with a new sense of excitement as Sam had promised to bring a translator for you this week. It was finally time to say your thanks to some of the people there and finally let the group know about your brother, so that it wasn’t only you that remembered him.

You all but ran through the hallways until you caught sight of a familiar smiling man. Sam was facing you, talking animatedly to another man, the strangers back was to you. He was tall, broad shouldered and dressed in a vintage looking leather jacket and rather well fitted trousers. Now the debate was: does the tailoring make the ass, or does the ass make the tailoring. You were halfway through the arguments on either side when Sam shouting your name disrupted the intense debating in your mind. You blushed at being caught, then blushed some more when you caught sight of the stranger’s face. Twinkling blue eyes under a deep-set brow should have made him intimidating, but he was smiling, and his face was dazzling. There was an immediate fluttering in your stomach.

“Hey, I’m Bucky.” Dear lord even his voice was nice, what made you smile even more was the fact that he signed as he spoke. Well, Sam certainly knew how to pick them well. “Sam introduced me; said you wanted an interpreter.”

You nodded as you signed back, “Nice to meet you, thank you for helping out.”

“No problem, Sam has told me a bit about you.”

“Good things I hope.”

“Okay I recognise my own name, you two better not be conspiring against me.” Sam piped up, to be honest you had forgotten about him for a moment.

Bucky laughed, and it sent a little thrill down you, he really was adorable.

“No worries, Wilson, just letting them know all your dirty little secrets.”

“Right, you two get in there, before you make me sleep with one eye open.”

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You and Bucky caught each other’s eye, his eyes were twinkling with mischief, and you couldn’t help the smile that overtook you. You had a feeling that the two of you would get on just fine.

The meeting passed easily. Bucky translated your signs and you finally felt like you could actually take part in these meetings. Everyone listened intently when you spoke of your brother and when you had thanked the whole group for being so open to you a couple of people shed a tear. By the end of the meeting though you were tired and very accepting of Bucky’s offer to walk you home.

It was a lot of side glances and hidden smiles and you walked side by side. Drawn to each other under the moonlit sky, it was nice to just be in the presence of someone who had such a kind aura. You spent the walk trying to work up the confidence to sign something, anything but nothing came to mind and Bucky seemed quite content to just walk in comfortable silence.

You soon reached your home, you turned to Bucky with a smile on your face and signed,

“Thanks for today, Bucky. You were really helpful.”

“No problem.” He signed back,

You hesitated slightly before signing, “Would you be happy to have a coffee with me, tomorrow?”

Bucky went a little red in the face, and chuckled, “I would love to, I know a nice place, real cosy. I’ll text you the details.”

“You know how to text?”

“Hey! I get enough stick from Sam, don’t need you getting on my case too. I’ll have you know that I am very adaptable.”

“Sure, Sure.” You smiled at his flustered tone. “I’ll wait for your text then, have a good evening.”

“You too.”

The two of you stared slightly awkwardly at each other, neither wanting to be the first to turn around. You shuffled your feet away slowing, smiling awkwardly once more at Bucky before turning. You heard his footsteps start to fade away as you walked towards your home. You were but three steps to the door when a large figure in a hoodie slammed into you, you raised your arms instinctively to block them when you noticed your shoulder was lighter. The bastard had stolen your bag.

You immediately took chase, chasing around the corner you just walked down but they were fast, faster then you at least. As you rounded the corner you caught sight of Bucky walking ahead. The thief wouldn’t stand a change against him. Without a second thought you cast your thoughts towards Bucky,

“Bucky! Thief! My Bag! Behind you!”

You saw Bucky flinch slightly then turn bewildered, his eyes widening when he saw you hurting towards him, chasing the hooded figure. He caught on and launched after the thief as well, with barely any effort he knocked the thief to the ground, grabbed your bag and whipped out his phone to call the cops.

Well, that was hot.

You took your bag back, immediately checking that you brother’s lucky coin was in the zippy pocket, to your relief it was still there. You looked up to see Bucky staring at you with a very puzzled look on his face. You sighed before casting your thoughts to his head once more,

“I’ll explain later.”

Bucky let out a strange, decompressed noise of shock, it made you giggle. The two of you waited in silence until the police came and took the thief away. The police car had barely driven away when he turned to you.

“Did you just, talk in my head? Or did my conscious just suddenly get really loud.”

“I did. Hi. Sorry about that.”

He waved his hands dismissively. “Believe it or not, not the weirdest thing I’ve encountered.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.”

There was an awkward silence.

“So,” You started, resorting back to sign language, it felt less invasive, “Still down for coffee?”

Bucky smiled, “One hundred percent. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Bye Bucky. Thanks for getting my bag back.”

“No problem, see ya.”

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The coffee shop that Bucky invited you to, was tucked away, it was the kind of place that you would stumble over on accident. With a simple door and a big window out the front, that lead soft orange light filter out onto the alley. There was the faint sound of jazz leaking out of the building, you smirked. It was such an old fashioned place, of course this was where Bucky frequented.

The bell tinkled slightly as you entered the café, where you were greeted with the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods. You caught sight of Bucky’s broad shoulders sitting in the corner, and you made your way over to him, smiling at the barista as you passed.

As if sensing you, Bucky turned to smile and wave. He was dressed in casual clothes like last time, but this time his hair was loose around his shoulders. You smiled back before settling into the seat opposite him.

His hands moved hesitantly as he signed, “What would you like? I can recommend their hot chocolate, its very warming/”

“Hot chocolate it is.”

You could tell he wanted to ask you a million questions but to his credit he walked slowly to get the drinks, he even took his time carefully carrying the tray of drinks back to your table. He placed a delicious looking hot chocolate in front of you. You watched as he took a sip.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1-

“So,” Here we go, “What is it you can do, you can speak in peoples’ heads, can you,” He lowered his voice and leaned in, “Can you read people’s minds?”

You giggled slightly, his eyes were basically sparkling, he was definitely nerding out about this.

You set the hot chocolate down before casting your thoughts to his head, “I can speak in peoples heads relatively easily, it’s how I talk most of the time to people I know. I guess you could call it Telepathy.”

Bucky’s eyes were as wide as saucers, “So you can’t read thoughts, only… speak them?”

“I like to call it casting, makes me feel like a sorcerer. I can read thoughts, but it takes a lot of energy. I used to be able to talk with my brother from across the house. That usually requires some kind of connection.”

“Oh, so like a blood or family connection? Do you have to know the person very well?”

“That certainly helps but it’s not always necessary. If I have a personal object that belongs to that person, something I can hold and connect to them it isn’t hard to make a two-way connection. Especially if that person is willing to open their mind.”

Bucky seemed to be caught in thought for a second. “So, if I were to give you something of mine, we could both talk in our… heads?”

“Well yes, but Bucky we have only just met. Letting me into your head is a lot. I try not to pry but sometimes I’ve found that thoughts just burst through. Let’s get to know each other a before that happens.”

Bucky smiled at you before speaking and signing, “You’re right. Let’s get to know one another. I find you fascinating.”

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It happened on the fifth date. Bucky was just walking you home after a lovely dinner at a small Italian that he claimed he went to back in the 40s. Just outside your door, under the glow of a lamppost he turned to you and took a deep breath before speaking.

“I know this may be a lot, but I wanted to give you these.” He reached around his neck and pulled off something silver. You gasped slightly as he held out his dog tags, immaculately preserved after all these years.

“Are you sure, Bucky? This is a lot.”

“I know and if you aren’t comfortable with it then just let me know but I want to give them to you.”

“You know what this means Bucky?”

“Yeah, I know, I just figured that you’re already in my head all the time anyways, just can’t seem to get you out of it.”

“You cheeseball.” You smirked at him before taking the dog tags and placing them around your neck. You gripped the cold metal for a moment, concentrating on the man in front of you. Taking everything, you knew about him and stretching out a connection, like a hand reaching out to clasp another.

“Testing, Testing, Testing, one two, one two, can my Telepathic partner hear me?”

You laughed, “Yes I can Bucky, you big dork.”

Bucky whooped out loud before sweeping you up in a big hug. The two of you laughing under the lamp light. His joy was infectious, and you couldn’t fight the smile off your face.

“Oh, we are going to have so much fun messing with Sam.”

“You’re evil.”

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Of course, the two of you made a pact not to tell Sam until he worked it out, which wouldn’t be anytime soon according to Bucky. It led to some very memorable moments and Sam refusing to play any form of card or board game with either of you because you always managed to win, somehow. Not to mention all the times you had spoken in eery unison around him.

“I swear, its like you two can read each other’s minds sometimes.” Sam threw his hands up in frustration at another lost game of charades.

You smirked at Bucky across the room, “Should you tell him, or shall I?”

“I think he’s been through enough, I got it.”

Bucky cleared his throat, “We can.”

Sam whipped around to face Bucky, a look of sheer disbelief on his face, “Seriously Bucky-boy, if you think I believe that after all-

“Hello Sam.” You cast your thoughts to him, in the creepiest old lady voice you could muster.

Sam yelped, before turning accusingly at you, “You better be joking around with me right now, I am not dealing with any kind of ghosts in this house.”

“Sorry! Surprise I’m telepathic!”

“You’re serious.”

You nodded.

Sam put his head in his hands and sighed, “Not the weirdest thing ever. Wait, does this mean you have been cheating this entire time.”

You both looked guiltily at one another.

“You owe me. That poker night, void.”

You both laughed, “We’ll have a fair rematch this time Sam.”

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It had been close to a year since you had made it official with Bucky and you were now much more comfortable around one another. He no longer just dropped you off at the lamppost but cam inside with you. You had spent many lovely mornings together sharing glances over steaming cups of coffee. Fighting each other for who got to spread their legs out on the couch, there wasn’t really a loser though as it usually ended up in sofa cuddles for both of you, while watching a film.

Life was pretty great, you thought, as you smiled down at the sleeping Bucky beside you. Finally reaching over to turn off the lamp and put your book down, you were finally reading the hobbit at Bucky’s insistence. As you clicked off the light beside you and settled down you noticed the faster than usual breathing coming from beside you.

“Bucky?”

You reached out, thinking he was awake but instead as you opened up your connection you caught flashes of night terrors. You were falling indefinitely, snow all around you, and in the distance, there were cries of pain, people pleading for their lives, there was gunfire and explosions. You gasped and took off the dog tags. You only gave yourself a moment to breathe before trying to shake Bucky awake. When it became clear that he wasn’t stirring you steadied yourself and settled your hands on his temples. You didn’t care you tired this would make you, you just wanted Bucky to stop suffering. You focused, offering out that hand of connection again, this time picturing it in the shape of a fist and, although it wasn’t subtle, you tried to shake Bucky’s brain awake. You forced your way into his dreams, punching through the dark fog that clouded his thoughts and almost screamed at him.

“Bucky! Bucky wake up! You’re dreaming my dear!”

Bucky woke up with a start. Tears flowing down his face, he stared at you blue eyes shining. No one spoke as he pulled you into his arms. You just breathed together for a moment, counting the breaths and the spaces in between. When he finally pulled back, you saw his eyes flicker with concern before lifting a hand to gently wipe under your nose, it came back red with blood.

“You, okay?”

You smiled sadly, reaching out to put the dog tags back on.

“I should be asking you that.”

“But you’re bleeding.”

“Occupational hazard.” You tried to subtly get rid of any of the extra blood. “That was pretty intense. Wanna talk?”

Bucky looked down to the sheets and shook his head. You smiled at him, tilting his head to yours.

“That’s fine, want me to go? Or would you like to cuddle for a bit?”

Bucky didn’t talk again, just pulled you gently down to the bed once more. Snuggling himself under your chin, resting his head on your chest. You felt his arms draw tightly against your waist. You pressed your lips into his hair.

“May I help you go to sleep? Keep the bad thoughts at bay for at least one night.”

You felt Bucky nod and let out a little sleepy hum of agreement. You closed your eyes, focused on your connection setting up a golden wall against the dark fog at the corners of his mind and settled into a deep sleep.

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You woke to the smell of fresh coffee and the clinking of cups.

“Morning.” You opened your eyes at Bucky’s voice and took the offered cup greedily. Your mind still felt hazy from the energy you used last night.

You felt the bed dip beside you as Bucky sat and sipped at his cup as well, hair a bit of a mess from bed. He had evidently only just woken up as well.

He took a breath, “I had some pretty interesting dreams, sweetheart.”

You stiffened, “Good ones I hope.”

“Don’t worry, they were good. If a little strange.”

“Strange?”

“I was watching myself most of the time.”

You snorted into the coffee, “Sounds creepy”

There was a slight chuckle, “Nah, I was watching myself build a home, a family- “

“Oh God Bucky.” You snapped your eyes to his, you knew what had happened. “I am so sorry my dreams must have stuck in your head.”

“Those were your dreams?”

“Yeah, its only happened once before but when the connection between two people is very strong, it can happen- I call it bleeding. Perhaps we should- “

“If the next words out of your mouth are take a break, I will spill your coffee.” You clutched your cup closer to your chest, “Truthfully, those were some of the beset dreams I have every had. I really loved them.”

You looked back up at him, hesitantly “You did?”

“And I love you.”

“Huh

There was silence as you stared at him in shock. His face as nothing but adoration as the sunlight filtered over his face.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too.”

Coffee cups were cast aside as you both collided. Giggling and joking, radiating happiness as the two of you shared the sweetest kiss. Your feelings merging together, amplifying one another until they shone brighter than the sun.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x gender neutral reader

[2jaeh]

Surf Shack | Johnny Suh

Genre : angst; some mature themes

A long awaited beach vacation that unexpectedly lead you to a local surf shop owner who helps you out of your toxic relationship.

Surf Shop owner! Johnny ; cheating ? ; toxic ex bf

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“I don’t have to come on this trip if you don’t want me to y/n” your boyfriend rolled his eyes as he shoved the last suitcase into the back of his car.

You sucked in your breath and jumped into the passenger seat. You closed your eyes and imagined your feet against the warm white sand, the smell of the salty ocean tickling your nose and the seagulls flapping their wings to signal the upcoming sunset.

He was not going to ruin this for you.

You had planned this seaside trip for a month. You were swamped with work during the first vacation period where your family met up at your old hometown and sadly missed out on a nostalgic weekend away.

But not this time.

This time you managed to book the perfect Airbnb and your family were all available this time of the year and nobody, not even he could spoil this weekend.

“I don’t even get why you’re mad ? All I said was I’d prefer to catch up on the company stocks than frolick in the ocean....it was a joke y/n”

“Then why did you bring your paperwork ?” You muttered and looked out of the window as the car moved quickly out of the bustling city and onto the highway.

You heard him chuckle but didn’t bother to look in his direction. Instead you kept your eyes focused on the cars that passed by.

“Look I didn’t want to bring my work with but I had to” he said in a dead tone “This whole trip...I’m only going because your dad hates me enough...I’ll never hear the end of this if I stayed behind.”

His words were cold and you felt a lump in your throat. You couldn’t understand how at one point he was the reason for your happiness. Wonhyuk was not the same person he was when you two had first dated. He was caring and gentle. He would hate to see you cry and did everything he could to see that smile stretch across your face.

But now, two years later he couldn’t care less about how his words affected you. He had gotten promoted and his career and status made him into the pretentious bastard you see today.

He would flirt with women in front of you, knowing you wouldn’t say anything about it. He would came home at weird parts of the night and you would smell a foreign cologne grace his dress shirts but you stayed silent.

Why ?

Love. You think.

There was obviously a reason you two fell in love and that’s all you were clinging to. Like he mentioned, your dad couldn’t stand him. Your family came from this seaside town while his family came from the upperclass part of the city. He hated small talk or watching sunsets in silence. He liked to talk business he liked to talk about his achievements.

“Atleast pretend like we’re not arguing again for my dads sake ?” You sighed as he pulled into the driveway of the Airbnb lodge and switched off the engine.

“Fine” he pressed his lips together as his eyes met yours and proceeded to offload the car.

You exhaled deeply and faked a smile as you climbed the stairs to the lodge.

“Sunshine!” You heard your nickname bellow from inside the house and your dad gleam at your presence.

“Dad !” You chuckled and jumped into his arms.

“We thought you weren’t going to make it” your aunt teased from the kitchen as she tended to her kids.

“The traffic was awful but we’re here!” Wonhyuk forced a smile as he came to greet your father.

“Ah Wonhyuk I see you’re working on our vacation ?” Your father chuckled. He smiled but you could tell he wasn’t very pleased with your boyfriends choices.

“I just brought a bit of stuff to seem like I’m busy” Wonhyuk shrugged with a grin “don’t worry sir I won’t be stuck in the office.”

Your father simply nodded and returned back to your uncle on the balcony facing the ocean.

“Shit my rash guard just tore!!” You heard someone yell from one of the rooms. It definitely sounded like your favourite cousin.

“Jeno ?” You peeped into the room to find your cousin holding up his swimming gear with a fresh tear around the thigh area.

“Y/n! You’re here! Good! Can you come with me to the surf shack down on the promenade??” He asked desperately.

“Is it urgent ? You aren’t planning to surf already are you ?”

“The waves are perfect right now so yes it IS an emergency” he groaned and pulled you back to the foyer.

“Hey I’m going with Jeno to the promenade for a new rash guard are you coming with ?” You quietly asked Wonhyuk who replied with a shrug and followed the both of you out.

Jeno spoke the entire way, catching you up on what was going on in university to finally moving out of his parents place. You felt Wonhyuk keep a slight distance from the two of you, his mind clearly somewhere else.

“This is the place!” Jeno squealed and ran into the surfshack that dawned a cute straw roof.

You stepped inside greeted by the cool air from the ceiling fan and began browsing the miscellaneous items as Jeno went upstairs to view the swimwear.

Wonhyuk joined you inside the store but lingered around the entrance, pulling out his smartphone and looked seemingly bored.

“Uh..those are half price” you heard a deep voice but couldn’t find the person who matched it.

You finally felt a presence behind you and their shadow casted over your entire body which unconsciously made you swallow hard.

“I-I’m just looking thank you” you mumbled and felt the person move past you and back to the counter in the front of the store.

You let your eyes slowly gaze over to the counter to find a tall, well built brown haired boy in a Hawaiian shirt take his seat at the cash register. His dark eyes moved from the screen in front of him to yours. He studied your face, your movements, unsure of what you were doing in his shop.

“H-how much is this ?” You said abruptly mentally cursing yourself for even speaking up.

The boy’s pouty lips curled into a smile and stood up to get a better look at the product you were holding.

You watched as his barely buttoned shirt revealed a bit of his toned chest as he moved. You had never looked at another man like this let alone have your heart race like a school girl crush.

All while your boyfriend was in the same room.

“That’s $7 but I’ll let you take it for 5”

His accent and the way he lazily spoke made you feel butterflies and you had no idea why. Was this your subconscious finding a way to replace Wonhyuk because you two were currently in a debacle ?

“Hey babe what do you think of this necklace ?” You asked, finally snapping out of your daydream and turning to Wonhyuk.

“Why do you also choose such tacky jewelry y/n ? Come on the stuff I can get you in the city are 10times more classy than that” his words felt like a dagger.

You felt embarrassed. You obviously did not know the man behind the counter but you still felt embarrassed that he had to witness that.

Before you could reply Wonhyuk’s phone rang and he quickly received it and marched outside.

You felt your breaths become heavy, much like those nights when Wonhyuk would come home late smelling like another woman. You prayed that the tears won’t fall until you felt a soft but firm hand on your shoulder.

“Your boyfriend doesn’t have any taste this is actually a very unique item, you have a good eye” the handsome counter boy smiled and lifted the necklace from your hand.

You blushed slightly still embarrassed from the scenario that unfolded.

“He’s just...got a lot going on with work he doesn’t mean that” you lied. You knew he meant what he said and you knew he was trying to get a reaction out of you.

“Damn it’s really true. All the pretty girls really do have the douchiest boyfriends”

His grin got wider as you chuckled at his words.

“I actually really like it” you cleared your throat and pointed at the necklace in his hand

“How much is it again ?”

“Free off charge” He smiled and ripped off the tag, stepping behind you to place the necklace on you.

“Are you sure ? I can pay for it” you bit down on your lip as his soft fingers moved your hair out of the way and fastened the necklace on, letting his touch linger for a bit.

“It’s really okay” he reassured you and walked back to his counter. His eyes narrowed as he caught your so called boyfriend talking to a woman just outside the store. Something in him wanted to intervene and punch that bastard in the face for betraying you like this but he held back.

He turned back to you and noticed you had seen the scene outside but quickly looked away pretending like it wasn’t happening.

“My names Johnny, what’s your name ?” He quickly spoke up noticing your eyes becoming hazy.

“Uh...my name is y/n..”

“You from around here y/n ?”

“No but my dad lives about 10 minutes away though, this is kinda my hometown” you replied keeping your eyes on the floor and fighting the urge to cry.

You looked up at the second floor and noticed Jeno was ready to check out which meant it was time to snap back to the fake happiness.

“Y/n....” Johnny whispered “come see me later.”

He held your hand but you felt him place a piece of paper in your palm before greeting Jeno and ringing his order up.

Wonhyuk finally entered the store and you quickly stuffed the note in your pocket and walked out with Jeno completely ignoring Wonhyuks low chuckle after glancing at your new necklace.

——————————————————————————-

The sun began to set and the red and orange tint filled the lounge area as everyone began cleaning up after supper and heading off to their respective bedrooms to chill out and unpack.

Wonhyuk went straight to the shower which gave you a chance to finally read the note from Johnny.

‘10pm, lifeguard hut - swimwear’

Was he really expecting you to sneak out behind your boyfriends back to meet him ?

This was stupid. This was supposed to be a stress free vacation.

Just as you were about to make your decision you noticed a message pop up on Wonhyuks phone from an unknown number.

‘What time are we meeting tomorrow haha don’t make your gf too anxious now I hate being a homewrecker xo’

That familiar feeling you always had back home came flooding back. Was it someone from work ? Was is the woman he was talking to today ?

You glanced over at Johnnys note and quickly changed into your swimwear, throwing your hoodie and trackpants over and left Wonhyuk a note.

‘Visiting Aerie, she’s going through a rough spot might stay over don’t wait up’

Aerie was a friend Wonhyuk knew of that was in the area and sleeping over at her place was not something out of the ordinary especially when you visited the small town.

You decided to take a quick stroll through the night market and get a sweet treat while you killed time. The loneliness was somewhat therapeutic and the sounds of the night market were nostalgic of your childhood.

You loved every minute of it and the best of part was Wonhyuk wasn’t around to ruin the atmosphere.

You checked your phone and it was already 9:50pm so you decided to head over to the lifeguard hut. The area was quite deserted except for two couples cuddling on the beach under the dark night sky.

Slipping off your shoes you jumped into the white sand, loving the cool feeling in between your toes and made your way over to the hut.

A tall figure was posted up against the wooden frame and you noticed the bright yellow Hawaiian shirt that welcomed you earlier in your day.

“You actually showed up” his voice was velvety making the butterflies from earlier occupy your stomach once again.

“I dont usually do this...” you spoke, finally approaching his figure watching as the dim light from the hut hit his features perfectly.

“Oh so why did you ?” He smirked playfully.

You shrugged and gazed upon the dark waves hitting against the shore.

“I need a distraction”

“Yikes” Johnny winced and clutched his chest “kinda hurts I’m just a distraction but I’m glad you’re here nonetheless.”

You giggled and shook your head at his goofiness as the two of you headed to the deck of the hut.

“Are you planning a night swim ? It looks quite dangerous out there” you shivered as the dark sea made you slightly uncomfortable.

“We are going to the tidal pools! Much safer and less chance of a jellyfish sting” he winked and grabbed your hand lacing his fingers with yours.

It felt so natural being with him yet you only knew him for a very short amount of time. He took away any anxiety that built up during the day and chucked it away with ease. Being with him even in these short hours gave you a sense of freedom you had been craving deeply.

“Watch out it’s a bit slippery here” Johnny warned as he took care of you every step of the way.

“Are we even allowed to be here ?” You asked nervously as you saw it was now only the two of you.

“I come out here very often trust me it’s safe and nobody really cares unless you’re causing some sort of Ruccus” he grinned his eyes stretching along with his smile and you felt your face heat up.

You finally reached the tiny tidal pool and Johnny immediately unbottoned his shirt and jumped into the pool without any thought.

He finally surfaced and his brown locks stuck to his forehead as he gestured for you to join him.

You were a bit nervous getting down to your swimwear in front of a complete stranger. You have never thought of being with someone else or being attracted to someone else since your relationship with Wonhyuk began.

Johnny placed his hand over his eyes, letting you change comfortably without feeling embarrassed which he couldn’t understand why.

You were beautiful.

He had never felt this type of immediate attraction to someone before. He wanted you to feel like yourself which he noticed was not the case around that bastard.

You finally shimmied out of your tracksuit and submerged yourself slowly into the water, sucking in a deep breath at the cold sensation.

“It’s nice isn’t it ?” Johnny murmured as your eyes were lost in the stars above the two of you.

You felt him move closer, his warmth approaching as your eyes fixated on the constellations that formed in the night skies.

“I’ve never felt this calm in such a long time” you sighed and brought your eyes back to meet his.

“I can tell” Johnny caressed the pendant of the necklace he had given you earlier on.

“Why is it so fuckin hard to leave and move on” you groaned, throwing your head back “why am I stuck with someone who hates me, who gets to do whatever he wants and I have to deal with it.”

Johnny brought his hands to your face and made you meet his gaze again. His eyes were filled with concern and his smiled faded as he saw the pain in your eyes.

“It’s hard seeing the person you once loved turn into someone you hate but hey that’s life y/n nobody is perfect and you sure as hell need to keep searching for the right person for you. A consistent one” Johnny reassured you as he brought your trembling frame into a hug.

“I know I’m just some random guy you just met but I immediately knew you were being cheated out of a good relationship with an asshole who doesn’t deserve your patience and love.”

You couldn’t help but sob at his words. You knew you couldn’t take much more of the toxic relationship you were accustomed to and you did deserve better.

“J-Johnny...can you kiss me ?” You whispered looking up into his brown eyes and then letting your gaze fall onto his lips.

Johnny responded by pulling you close enough for you to wrap your legs around his toned back and push yourself up to meet his face.

He made the first contact by bending down to meet your lips and sighed into the soft peck. He pulled away slightly until you gave him permission to continue and the second kiss was much stronger than the first.

Johnny wrapped his arms tightly around your waist as he followed your lead in the kiss, only breaking to catch his breath and met your lips once again.

His lips were incredibly soft and he playfully nibbled on your lower lip each time you pulled away, eager to feel you against him once again. His lips eventually moved to your jaw, followed by soft kisses down to your neck and back up to your now swollen lips.

The two of you stayed just like that. In each other’s arms which felt like the best place to be, the right place to be.

In this moment.

#nct imagines #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios #johnny seo #Johnny angst #nct johnny #johnny scenarios #seo youngho #nct angst #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kpop au #kpop scenarios

[haddonfieldproject]

<<PREVIOUS⏺<<CONTENTS>>

1.3.11 SATURDAY NOVEMBER 1st, ‪11:46 AM

‬Haddonfield, Illinois

The man walked into the foyer of the large house, squeezing passed the very large security guard who answered the door. A large grandiose staircase arose before him and split half-way up to the second floor, veering off right and left directing toward the two wings of the giant mansion. To his left was a luxiorious dining room with seating for up to twenty. Large renassiance style portraits hung on the walls: picturesque scenes of Italian countrysides and vineyards, the kind of paintings you'd see reproduced on the walls inside of an Olive Garden, only these were no doubt original. To the man's right was a large parlor, with more vibrant paintings, sculptures, antique sofas, and a grand piano in the far corner.

An elderly woman sat on one of these. She was cross-stitching silently. She looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowed, and then she looked back at what she was doing. The man sighed, ignoring her. In front of him, to the left of the stairs was a sliding door that opened into the actual living space of the home. From there he heard the voice call to him, “Come in son, come on in.”

The man entered the room and saw his boss sitting on a large leather sofa, a persian cat on his lap. He was watching the large flatscreen television mounted above the stone-hearthed fireplace before him. More aerial shots of the burning hospital. The man was frail, liver spots speckled his olive skin. His hair, once brown, was gray and thinning at the top, his eyes once black as night has turned to the color of charcoal smoke. He wore a plush royal blue robe and an old fashioned sleeping cap that reminded the visitor of Ebeneezer Scrooge.

The man bent to one knee before the old man. The cat hissed and jumped off the elderly man's lap and ran off toward the adjacent kitchen. The old man extended his hand, “Thank you for coming so soon.”

The man kissed the old man's hand, “Sure thing Mr. Vizzini.”

“I hope I did not trouble you too much last night Andre,” Mr. Vizzini said as Andre took a seat on the couch beside him.

Andre smiled, “Hey boss...a little romp through the woods never hurt no one.”

Mr. Vizzini laughed. “Good. I didn't get to apologize to you before when we spoke. We were...” he chose his words carefully, “too busy speaking of the grave matter at hand.”

Andre nodded.

“I trust you delivered my message to Mr. Tarasenko and our beloved mayor?” Mr. Vizzini asked, turning back toward the television.

Andre turned toward the screen as well, the national news had gotten a hold of Holly West's interview with Rosalita and were now playing it to the nation.

“Yes boss,” Andre sighed, “And I would have called you sooner but I was getting some much needed sleep.”

Mr. Vizzini nodded, “Your insomnia again?”

“Yes sir, it's been a really bitch, pardon my french.”

Mr. Vizzini smiled, “Well we all need our rest. When one is tired, one cannot think.”

“Yes sir.”

“And I need everyone at the top of their mental capacities.”

“I agree.” Andre remarked.

The old man held up a small square device that he had in his lap. It was a gray box with a single solitary red button on the top. He held it up now and pushed it. Somewhere in the far reaches of the house a chime was heard, soft and tonal. After a few seconds, there was a small crackle of static, and a woman's voice could be heard on an un-seen speaker.

“Yes Mr. Vizzini?”

The old man cleared his throat, “Caterina, would you be a dear and bring my guest and I a scotch on the rocks please?”

“Certainly Mr. Vizzini.”

There was a click indicating the speaker went dead.

“So what did our friends have to say for themselves?” Mr. Vizzini cocked his head to one side inquisitively.

“Tarasenko looks shaken up.” Andre said.

Vizzini grunted and nodded.

“And Dodge wants another front, just like you said he would,” Andre smiled.

“And you told him that that would not be possible?” The old man cocked an eyebrow.

“Yes sir,” Andre said, “he asked me to ask you to reconsider, again, just as you said.”

The old man sighed and nodded. He closed his eyes as if wrapped in meditation.

There were footsteps and into the kitchen appeared a young, tall, beautiful red headed woman that Andre had seen before. It was the waitress from Lou Martini's club.

Tina Tomcat, Andre remembered.

She looked tired in the face, but smiled at the two men cheerfully, holding a small glass in each hand of the brown scotch. Little crushed ice floated in each glass. Her corset had been replaced by a very cliché french maid outfit, which covered her private parts and some more of her body, but not much else.

Mr. Vizzini smiled as he took his glass, “Andre, I'd like you to meet Caterina. Caterina this is my dear friend Mr. Andre.”

Tina smiled at Andre and held out his glass. He took it with a smile of his own.

“We've met before,” Andre replied.

The old man waved a wrinkled hand, “Ah I suppose so, at the Rabbit-in-Red!” Mr. Vizzini took a sip of his drink and then said, “Caterina came in late this morning after no doubt a night of considerable carousing. Mr. Andre and I were just discussing how important sleep is to the body.”

Tina turned and waved a hand back at him, “I'll sleep when I'm dead,” she said with a wink, “besides, I make a hell of a lot more at the Rabbit than I do at this place.”

Andre's eyes went wide. He stared at Mr. Vizzini nervously and took a sip of his drink. He winced. It was very strong.

Mr. Vizzini broke into laughter, which then turned into racked coughing. When he was done coughing, he wiped his eyes and said, “That's what I love about her.” He choked another gulp of his drink down. “I appreciate honesty in a woman.” He raised his glass to Tina.

Tina gave a little curtsy, and disappeared around the corner.

The two men looked back at the television. A picture of the Chumway brothers now dominated the screen. The big bold tag line at the bottom read: MANHUNT ENDS IN MAYHEM.

After a moment, Andre cleared his throat, “Sir, may I offer an opinion.”

Mr. Vizzini sipped and nodded, “Certainly. My appreciation for frankness is not specific to the female gender.”

“I worry that this may not be a good time to send a message to Dodge.” Andre looked down at his glass. The old man had a reputation, he didn't want to discover the fine line only after crossing it.

“You think I should give Mayor Dodge the money.” Vizzini said, very frank himself.

“I think it would be wise to, I think we can both agree the situation has changed.” Andre said, gesturing toward the television.

“I think for the better perhaps.” Vizzini replied. “To my knowledge, the shipment has yet to be...spoiled shall we say. There may be time and an opportunity here to...salvage it, and for that I'll need friends in high places, and for that I'll need leverage.”

“I haven't considered that,” Andre admitted, “But there is always the flip side. This place is now crawling with law enforcement at all levels, and no matter how good we are, there is always a trail, and eventually that trail leads to Tarasenko, which in turns leads to Dodge, which in turns leads to you.”

“I have considered it,” Vizzini said. He sucked the rest of the scotch down in the glass with a loud slurp.

“What was done with the van, if I may ask?”

Vizzini waved, “Oh that was easy. The First Congregational Church of Holiness and Power was just bequeathed a brand new cargo van for their congregation. Complete with title in the envelope signed off to the church from a Mr. Juan Pagan of Winchester Indiana and cash to obtain a new tag.”

Andre smiled and nodded approvingly.

“Mr. Pagan even called me this morning and told me the Pastor of the church called him and thanked him personally.”

“Praise God,” Andre lifted his glass.

“Indeed.” Vizzini took some ice in his mouth and chewed it.

“However.” Andre frowned, “If the cops do get the shipment and nab Tarasenko, do you think he'll talk?”

“Doubtful,” Vizzini responded.

“What about Dodge?” Andre asked. “I see the honorable mayor putting a finger on you at the first hint of trouble.”

“Oh please,” Vizzini laughed, “I have the ability to be on flight to the United Arab Emirates like that,” he snapped his gnarled fingers, “Robert Dodge would love to fantasize but as yet he possessed no such ability. He will go down, he will go down hard and he will go down alone.”

“Is that what you want?” Andre asked.

“Of course not. I'm going to give him the money Andre. This is an opportunity with two heads.”

“How so?”

“On one hand, this is a great opportunity to get more out of our arrangement with Dodge. The spotlight is on him now,” Vizzini gestured at the TV which was now in a commercial. Ramon Aguilar of the newly crowned World Champion Chicago Cubs was singing the praises of a Liberty Burger extra-value meal.

“He'll be desperate. Like an ant under a magnifying glass directing the light of the sun, he will have no where to go and he will be like puddy in my hands.”

Vizzini's eyes went dark. I'm beginning to see the reputation, Andre thought.

“From the other angle,” Vizzini continued, “this is a good time to teach a lesson. The mayor has to learn that he is becoming a liability for me. A liability that I can no longer stomach.”

Andre drained the last of his scotch. “I just worry the cops are going to nab the shipment before we can inact damage control.”

Vizzini smiled and patted the large man next to him on the knee. “Worry solves nothing. We will just have to wait and see what happens.”

Andre sighed, “I just wish I knew.”

NEXT>>

#halloween #halloween franchise #michael myers #horror #haddonfield #horror writing #horror film #fan fiction #fan writing #spooky

[bangtan-madi]

on the 6 a.m. train — kim taehyung

Pairing — Taehyung x Reader

Tags — best friend!Taehyung, older brother!Jimin, unrequited love, one-sided pining, a realistically happy ending, eventual friends to lovers

Genre — angst (like a shit-ton by my standards lol), fluff at the end 

Word Count — 5.9k

Summary — An unrequited love is the most difficult to get over, especially when the healing process is interrupted by another's sudden revelation.

Warnings — language, mentions of infidelity

Soundtrack — Drown by Boy In Space

Request — @mytaetaey​

A/N — Okay love, you wanted this to be super duper angsty so I hope you like it lol! I think this is the saddest thing I've written for BTS thus far, and I usually don't do angst so...fair warning I couldn’t help but write a happy ending lol. Now, if you'll excuse me, I intend to write fluff only for the next week. (Also this ended up being so much longer than I originally intended so sorry for the delay in finishing!)

There comes a moment in every person's life that they must decide whether or not the one they love is worth giving up their own happiness for. The line between the healthy amount of support and care that loved ones give each other is often convoluted, never easy to see, only ever clear in hindsight. Sometimes it takes time and distance away from that person for you to see whether or not this pain is worth it.

You desperately need that time. You crave that space. The past seven years, particular the last six months, have been full of secret longing and wholehearted adoration towards a certain person who never returned your feelings. It hurt you to see him look at you as his best friend's little sister, and it absolutely crushed you when he looked at another woman with desire.

The way he looked at her, you wanted that.

But no longer.

Gripping your suitcase tightly, you turn and step up the stairs, onto the platform of the train station. The sun is just rising over the cityscape, bringing a subtle hint of gold across the buildings. You will miss Seoul and all her beauty. The way the birds chirp at dawn, the way the city sings at night, the fact that all your best memories are here.

You shake your head and focus on the near future. Your home has been Seoul for the last seven years, but before that, it was Busan. And that coastal haven calls to you once more. Your birthplace and family are awaiting you at the end of this train ride, and that fact makes leaving a little easier. There are few things that your mother's kimchi and your childhood bed cannot fix.

In your pocket, your phone buzzes for the umpteenth time this morning. You looked at it the first few times the calls and texts came in but have ignored it ever since you saw the context. 

Don't go, your friends begged. Please stay. He feels the same. He's an idiot for not seeing it. You don't have to go, [Y/n].

You hadn't told any of the members where you were going, when you were leaving, or if you were leaving at all. All they know is that you're gone from the dorms in the morning when you usually join them for breakfast, and all your most important belongings are gone. The only two people you've told of your choice are your mother, who has known of the whole situation or some time, and your boss at BigHit, who agreed to let you work remotely for a few weeks.

Nothing they say will change your decision, so you retrieve your phone from the pocket with the intent to turn it off. The screen illuminates once again, and you read the contact name.

Him.

And below his name, a message:

"I called your mother. She told me where you were going and where you are now."

You swallow hard at his words, and another text pops up.

"I'm coming to you. I've been an idiot. Please don't get on that train."

You look at the time of arrival on your ticket, then at the clock on your phone. The train is ten minutes out, as you arrived early, and you pray to god that it arrives before he does.

Your decision has been made; you are leaving Seoul, your friends, and the man you love unrequitedly behind.

To strengthen your resolve over the next few moments, your attention shifts to the events of the past six months, every single thing that has led to this decision.

"We love you, Army! See you next time!"

You could hear their voices from the stage. Even from behind the scenes, with the crew rushing about with the last seconds of the show, Namjoon's voice was crystal clear. It had been a long night of performing, and you were worried that they had overexerted themselves on their last stop of the tour. They were all beyond exhausted, and you knew Taehyung always pushed himself far over his limits. From backstage, you could tell him fading between their songs. 

A few moments later, the lights turned off, and the music began to fade. The boys disappeared under the stage, out of sight of the Armys, and were instantly ambushed by staff. You struggled to get closer, desperate to make sure they were okay.

You spotted your brother Jimin first. He was covered in sweat and breathing hard, but otherwise he looked okay. Namjoon and Hoseok were in similar states. Seokjin and Yoongi seemed to be tired but overall doing okay. Jungkook looked exhausted and had oxygen placed at his nose and mouth, but his attention was on someone else.

Taehyung laid against the support beam of stage, his breathing erratic and eyes glazed over. He was in terrible shape, and all of the members' attention was on him. 

Jungkook shoved the oxygen away from his face and asked it be given to Taehyung. When the youngest started to keel over, the staff member returned it to him with a promise to find another.

You grabbed a spare oxygen mask from the table behind you and pushed through the crowd, kneeling by Taehyung's slumped figure. With a gentle smile, you pressed the mask portion to his mouth. "Breathe in, Tae. Just breathe. You're a little low, is all."

Taehyung did as you ask, breathing shallow, unsteady breaths in tempo with yours. To assist in cooling him off, you shoved the thick jacket from his shoulders and down his arms. Yoongi saw what you were trying to do and jumped in to assist.  

"He pushed himself way too hard for the last song," Jimin coughed. 

"He always does that for his solo," Namjoon murmured. 

Turning towards an employee behind you, you asked, "Can you get me a bottled water, please?"

The girl nodded and ran off, quickly returning with what you asked for. You thanked her quietly and once Taehyung had a handle on his breathing, you offered the beverage to him. "Can you drink?"

He nodded, coughing a bit as you pulled the oxygen away. As he scarfed down the water like a man who hasn't had a drink in days, you ran your fingers through his sweaty and unkempt hair. He always loved it when you did that, said that the gesture made him feel relaxed and peaceful. You did it whenever you could, even if he never saw it as anything more than platonic. 

Seeing the red in his face fade as the water bottle emptied, you turned to the other members, all of which look equally exhausted and drained. "Go get changed and wash up," you stated with a soft smile. "He's gonna be okay."

"Are you sure?" Jungkook rasped worriedly.

You gave the maknae a reassuring expression. "I got him. Go. We'll catch up."

Seokjin gave you a knowing look, just as Hoseok flashed a sneaky wink before walking off with the others. 

After the roar of the crowd and staff started to die down, it was just you and Taehyung for the next several minutes. Between the oxygen and the water, by the time the others had washed up and changed into traveling clothes, you were bringing him back to the land of the living.

When he blinked away the haze from his eyes, his gaze finally shifted to meet yours once again. You offered a smile as you brushed his unruly curls from his forehead. "Hey there, welcome back."

For the first time since the show ended, Taehyung smiled. "Hi."

"You okay? Do you need anything else?"

He shook his head slightly, pulling himself up into a proper seated position. "'M okay. Just a little light-headed. And hungry."

At the last comment, you laughed and ruffled the curls a bit. "You really scared everyone, Tae, including and especially me. Why do you always have to go so hard?"

The brunet offered a shrug and leaned into your touch. "Just wanted to give the Armys a good show. Especially for the last one, you know?"

"I do," you agreed, "but you have to take care of yourself, too, you big idiot." Your hand dropped reluctantly from his hair, resting instead on his forearm. "C'mon. Let's get you to the dressing room. One of the boys or staff can help you change and wash up if you need it. Can't wait too much longer. Our plane leaves in a half-hour for Seoul."

Taehyung gave a dreamy smile as you mentioned South Korea, a place none of you had been in months since tour began. "Mmm, that's right. We're going home." He allowed you to haul him to his feet, keeping a steady arm around his waist to help him carry his own weight. "You didn't have to stay with me like that. I'm sure it was scary. Another staff member could have done it."

You shook your head adamantly, gazing up at Taehyung. Even covered in sweat and over-exhausted, he looked stunning in the dim stage lighting. "I had to make sure you were okay. Someone's gotta take care of your stubborn ass."

The twenty-four-year-old gave scratchy laugh at your retort, coughing slightly halfway through. "What did I do to deserve such a great friend?"

In his compliment, your heart stung a little. 

Friend. Of course. What else would you be?

The phone buzzes in your hand, bringing you out of a six-month-old memory. Taehyung's name flashes brilliantly on the surface, and in a moment of weakness, you answer.

"Please, don't hang up. I didn't think you'd actually answer, but now that you have...please just..."

"What do you want, Taehyung?" you ask, keeping your voice monotone and controlled despite the roots of hurt spreading in your chest.

"You're on the six a.m. train to Busan, right?" Your lack of response gives him all he needs to know. "I know I'm cutting it close, but please, don't get on that train before I can talk to you. I owe you that. Please, [Y/n/]."

Tears form in your eyes, but you push them away. "You've been cutting it a little close for six months. I don't want anything from you; you owe me nothing. I—I need to go."

"No, no, please. Don't leave just yet. I know I've been stupid and blind and an absolute idiot. I've been absent from your life and haven't put in the work with our friendship the last six months. I didn't see that you were hurting, and I didn't see that my feelings had changed in the last seven years. I wasted so much time, especially the last half-year, on people and things that didn't really care about me. I don't know how to make up for that."

Your brows furrow angrily, and you grip the phone tighter. "You should have thought of that before you started dating her."

As it turned out, Taehyung met his girlfriend at that very concert. She was a special guest, another idol from an extremely popular girl group. You hadn't realized it at the time, but that night sparked something between the two idols that eventually led to a full-blown relationship.

After the flight back to Seoul, Taehyung was rarely at the dorms. When he was, he was giddy ad blush-y and very puppy-like. It was clear to everyone, especially you, that something was different. So when he told the group a few weeks later that he'd met someone, no one was shocked. 

"Her name is Sun-ji," he explained one night as you both were clearing the kitchen of takeout trash from the meal. The rest of the boys were doing other things, but you wanted to spend time with one of your closest friends. One you felt you hadn't seen in weeks. "She's been on break from tour with her group, just like us, for the past month. She went to our concert in Tokyo! That's where I ran into her before the show. We just hit it off and...I really like her, [Y/n]. She's nice and so pretty and she gets me."

You bit your lip and forced your voice to stay even and your face to remain joyful. "She sounds amazing, Tae. I'm...really happy for you."

Taehyung flashed his infamous boxy smile, ecstatic at your false approval. "I really hope you'll like her, too. I wanna bring her around sometime soon, just to hang out or something."

"Sounds nice." You brushed the last of the styrofoam containers into the trash. "Look, I'm tired. I have an early day tomorrow. I'll see you later, I guess."

"Goodnight," he calls after you.

"Yeah, goodnight."

Hurrying to your dorm room, you quickly slipped inside and shut the door behind you. As soon as you were in the privacy of your own space, you let the tears cascade. Every emotion you'd pent up the entire night, ever since Taehyung brought up his girlfriend for the first time, let loose. You laid on top of your covers, curled up into a ball, and let the night take away any hope you had of that being your role.

You had waited too long. You'd let your fear and lack of action take away your chance to tell Taehyung how you really felt.

Now it was too late. He had someone else. He had Sun-ji.

And he was sickeningly, overwhelmingly, all-consumingly enamored with her.

"That's on me!" Taehyung's sharp reply comes as a surprise; it's the first time you've heard him upset at you in a while. You used to bicker and fight all the time, before Sun-ji that is. Ever since she came into his life, it was you that was consoling him after their arguments.

And those were not playful and silly, nor were they fixed with a simple apology and tight embrace.

"I know I fucked up! She was not who I thought she was. She's manipulative and controlling, and I didn't see it until I was too far in. She took be away from everyone I cared about: you, the members, my family, everyone. She was poison—"

"—That you willingly went back to, time and time again!" you snap, earning stares of other people at the station. "Six months, and do you know how many times I saw you crying because of her? Do you realize how many nights I had to pick up the pieces of your heart after she broke it? She cheated on you, and you still went back to her! I never, ever would have done that, Kim Taehyung."

"I don't have an excuse or justification...other than I was blinded by the good times."

"I know, but even in those times, I knew it should have been me," you reply, your voice tearful. "I was jealous, that's true, but when I saw you smiling because of her, I knew I could make you happier. I could make you happy without the baggage or pain or guilt that she brought with her. Or if not me, someone else! Hell, anyone else would have been better than her."

There's a pause before Taehyung sighs heavily. "Do you remember the first night you found me crying?"

You nod, even though he can't see, and shuffle where you stand. The memory is an uncomfortable one, but one you'll never forget. "Yes."

"I should've left her then. Not the second time, or the third, or two weeks ago when I finally cut her off. I should have stopped seeing her right then...and I should've seen how much I cared for you."

Your eyes close, and a few tears fall down your cheeks. "Too little, too late, Tae. I'm glad you cut her off, I really am, but I have to go. I hear the train. Please, don't try to stop me. You'll only make this worse for everyone."

"[Y/n], wait—!"

You end the call without hearing the end of his sentence. Turning your phone completely off and slipping it back into your pocket, you wait out the remaining couple minutes in memory-induced silence.

You found him curled up on the sofa, a blanket laid over his child-like figure, eyes and nose bright red. He'd been crying for an hour at that point and assumed he'd have much more time to himself as the other members and you weren't supposed to be home until the evening.

How unlucky he was that you had left the studio early. When you departed, you were exhausted, but now seeing Taehyung in such a vulnerable state, you were instantly revived. Hurrying over to kneel by the side of the sofa, you pulled the blanket down from his face.

"What's wrong?" you inquired, brushing your fingers gently across his cheek.

Taehyung wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve and blinked his tears away. "Shit, you weren't supposed to see this."

"But I have, so tell me what's wrong."

The brunet sighed and shook his head. You could tell by the way he was breathing and the way his eyes were watering that it was taking every ounce of strength he had not to break down again. "Sun-ji and I had a fight, that's all. I'm okay."

Your free hand rested on top of his. "Are you?"

Between your reassuring touch and concerned voice, it only took a few more seconds for Taehyung to crumble. His whimpers returned with the tears, and he reached out for you instinctively. You allowed him to pull you into the sofa with him, into his arms that caged you against him. The space was small, but with half of his frame lying on top of yours, his face buried into your shoulder, you made it work.

Though surprised at his sudden show of affection, you knew it was coming from a place of hurt and need. He needed someone to comfort him, someone he knew that wouldn't hurt him or push him away. Whatever Sun-ji and he had fought about, you resisted the urge to curse the woman for putting your best friend in such a state. 

Curling around him, you nestled your arms around him and rubbed soothing circles along his shoulders and spine. Every now and then, you pressed a chaste kiss to his messy hair and whispered sweet nothings. Over the next half-hour, his sobs faded to sniffles once more, and his grip on you loosened to a comforting cuddle.

"You wanna talk about it now?" you asked, feeling his grow sleepy against you. 

As you reached down to brush his tears off his cheeks, Taehyung turned his head so that his nose pressed against your neck. "I think Sun-ji is cheating on me."

Your entire body grew rigid at his whisper. "What makes you think that?"

"I saw her texting flirty stuff to someone who wasn't me. And the other night, at an event, she was sitting really close to one of the idols she'd performed with in the past. I think they used to date, but the way she was touching him...I..." He trailed off and shook his head slightly. "I confronted her about it, but she said I was being overprotective and territorial. So...we fought."

Not knowing what to say, you simply held him a little tighter and hoped that your touch was a comfort. "I'm so sorry, Tae."

"She made me feel like I was seeing things, like I was making things up or...or that I was stupid or something." Taehyung sighed heavily. "I mean, it's been three months. I thought...Well, maybe it is me..." 

"No one should be treated like that. And for what it's worth, you're one of the most observant people I know. You don't see things that aren't there, you don't make things up, and you're far from stupid. She the idiot for treating you like this, or making you feel like you're not enough."

Taehyung gave a small laugh at your response. "You really don't like her, do you?"

You shook your head. "Not when she treats you like this. You deserve better."

"So do you," he murmured. "Seriously, [Y/n], you're always there for everyone, especially me. You deserve the world. I know you've said you're not really interested in dating right now, but if you ever change your mind...just be sure they're not going to break your heart. It's not worth it."

You bit your lower lip and rested your chin on his hair so he couldn't see your face. If he only knew how you'd gone against that advice for seven years now. Loving your best friend without them loving you back, that's enough to break anyone's heart.

The train can be heard before it can be seen. The high-tech piece of mechanical wonder speeds down the track at several hundred miles per hour, finally delivering on the promise of escape. Another minute and you'll be on your way to Busan.

"[Y/n]!"

Taehyung calls your name like it's the last thing he'll ever say. Voice loud and deep, he shouts it once more. As you turn, you see him bounding down the side of the platform. His eyes are wide, and his chest is heaving from the run. The station itself is expansive, and the platform is far from where he could have driven. He's come all this way to see you, and that alone is no easy feat.

You clench your jaw, trying to maintain your resolve as he approaches. "I asked you not to come."

"And I didn't listen." Taehyung slows and stops a few feet away, giving you some of the distance you asked for. His face shows confusion and guilt, some of which you're sure is there due to him showing up despite your request. "I couldn't let you leave without telling you how I feel, and not over the damn phone. In person."

"Don't play with me, Taehyung, please," you murmured, keeping your eyes away from his.

"I'm not. I'm completely serious." He takes another step closer. "Do you know why I finally broke it off with Sun-ji?"

"Because she's an unfaithful bitch who had it coming?"

He shakes his head. "No. If that were the only reason, I may have given her another chance. I would've hated myself, but you know how I give too many chances." A pause. "I broke up with Sun-ji because I realized...it finally hit me that I wasn't in love with her. I was never in love with her, and I never would be. And it hit me again that this was because I was already in love with someone else. Someone who's been my best friend for seven years, someone who's been there for me when I wasn't there for myself, someone who's been my strength and backbone ever since we became friends. I was head over heels for the only girl who's always been in my corner from day one."

The weight of his confession hits you. The longing expression on his face, the tears in his eyes, the emotion in his voice, all of it is heavy and meaningful and everything you've wanted to hear. And yet, you hesitate in your response. "I...Tae..."

"You don't have to say anything," he assures softly. "Just let me talk, then you can do whatever you want, I promise." After taking another step closer, Taehyung's lips tug at the corner to create a tiny smirk. "When I finally broke down and told the others, they called me an idiot. And I have been, for not seeing you until now and for not seeing that you felt the same. Your brother called me a moron, and I can't blame him. I don't know why I'd been so blind for so long, but now that I see you, I refuse to let you go without telling the truth."

He reaches for your hand, and you allow him to take it. His grip is tender and gentle as his fingers lace through yours. Taehyung's brown eyes have always been a weak point for you, but the way he's looking at you now—as if you're the only person in the world—is enough to make you shiver.

"[Y/n], I love you. Not just as a friend, but as something...something more. All that time I wasted with Sun-ji, I should've been spending with you." His grip on your hand tightens, as if giving emphasis to his confessions. 

His gaze drops from yours as he continues. "I know our lives are crazy...and love is confusing and I'm doing this in all the wrong order, but please let me prove it to you. Give me the chance to treat you like you deserve. It's taken seven long years, but I finally see that all that time I called you my best friend, I was slowly but surely falling hard for you. It was so gradual that I didn't know it until I was in too deep.

"I know I'm too little, too late," he whispers, a wistful smile forming on his face as his free hand raises to cup your cheek, "but the heart wants what it wants. And mine desires you...if you'll have me."

You feel your cheeks burn as his words come to a stop. Despite not saying a word for the last several minutes, you feel breathless. The platform around you is bustling; hundreds of people are boarding the train, but your attention is solely on the man in front of you. It's like the world has faded away, and all that exists is you and Taehyung and this unnamed thing between you.

And yet, even after all of that, you still feel confused and hurt and lost. It's not as if your heart isn't singing in response to his epiphany; having him return your love is all you've ever wanted. And yet, you've finally come to realize that you need to take a good look at your life and your feelings. That's not something that can happen in five minutes, on a train platform, after a heartfelt confession. You know your feelings for Taehyung are long-suffering and strong, but you owe it to yourself to give both you and him some time to think.

It's such a paradox; the moment your best friend comes to you confessing his love is the moment you've finally become okay with it being unrequited.

The universe truly is a strange and ironic place. 

"If you'd said that to me six months ago, I would've jumped at the chance," you finally say. "But now? I just...so much has happened, and even if you didn't love her, you really liked Sun-ji. I don't want you to see me as a backup or a fall-girl. I know now that I deserve better than being a second choice."

Taehyung's features soften at your reply, as does his voice. "You're never someone's fall-girl. You're no backup or second choice. If I thought of you like that, do you really think your brother or the other boys would've let me live?"

"True," you chuckle.

Your best friend mirrors your smile, glad to see the tension fading. "I know I'm over simplifying this, but I'll ask it anyway. Do you like me?"

Your response is immediate. "Yes."

"Do you love me?"

"Of course, I do—"

"—Not as a friend," he clarifies. "As something more."

"Taehyung..."

"Because I do."

His words aren't casual. There's an err of honesty and vulnerability to them. It causes you to let your walls down even more. You reach up to place one of your hands against his on your cheek, while the other drifts to his wrist. "Me, too. You know that, apparently."

"Then what's the issue? I know, it's a childish view on love, but can we just...start over? Start fresh?"

"I want to," you reply, looking up at him and realizing you both are closer than before, a breath away from each other. "More than anything, believe me. But I need time and space, Tae. I need time to think and work things out. I need to sort through my feelings and figure out what I really want. I need to get out of my head and heart and just..." Your sentence trails off, and you lower your head in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I'm probably not making any sense."

"Hey, look at me for a second." Taehyung places a reassuring finger under your chin as you glance up. He flashes a mini-version of his signature boxy smile as he says, "If you need that space and time, then please, go to Busan. Go and think about your future and what you want and what you feel. I don't want to force you into anything you don't want to do. I've put you through enough. Take the time. Take the distance. Just know that if you decide you still want this—if you still want me—I'll be right here waiting for you. I'm not going anywhere unless you want me to."

"You'd really let me go, even after all that?"

Taehyung nods, though his expression is somewhat sad as he does. "You're a grown woman. You can make your own choices. If that means that you chose someone other than me, or if you chose to stay as friends, I...I can find a way to be okay with that."

An overwhelming sense of love and adoration flows over you, and you lean into his touch a little more by pressing his hand closer to your cheek. "How about...how about you come to Busan with me? I think some time to talk might do us good, away from the craze of Seoul and BTS and kpop. Where we can be just us. What about that?"

Your best friend's face brightens by a thousand, and he moves his hand from your face to his pocket. He retrieves a slip of paper and holds it up with an eager grin. "I bought a ticket in hopes that you might say something like that."

"You weren't going to force me, huh?" You cock a playful eyebrow, and Taehyung blushes.

"I was only going to use it if you decided you'd give me another chance. I wouldn't have gotten past the gate if I didn't."

"You've got balls, I'll give you that," you laugh, rolling your eyes as Taehyung continues to give a cheeky grin. "You really broke up with Sun-ji because of me?"

"Yep. Best decision I ever made--well," he stops mid-sentence, correcting himself. "Actually, second-best. Best was running here from the bus stop. I definitely wouldn't have made it if I took an Uber."

You shove him away with teasing hands, scoffing out, "You're crazy."

Taehyung doesn't let you get far. He chases after you slipping an arm around your waist and hauling you against him. His face comes incredibly close to yours; nose brushes against nose. His eyes dart from yours, down to your lips, and slowly rise back up. "Crazy about you."

"Okay, the cheesy lines are stopping right now, otherwise you're not getting on that train."

His eyes flicker from your face to the tracks behind you. His smile drops, brown eyes growing wider. "Um...about that...we gotta go."

As you turn your head, Taehyung grabs your hand and pulls you towards the train. The automatic doors are starting to close; you both were so caught up in each other and your mutual confessions that you must've missed the last call to board. Taehyung catches up just before it closes, and even though the alarm blares out of annoyance, the sides part once again. 

Once you're both on-board, the doors close behind you. Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows and comments, "Cutting it close?"

"Seems to be the theme of the day," you retort, grateful to have made it with both Taehyung and luggage in tow. In a sudden realization, you eye his empty hands. "Wait, you didn't pack anything!"

"Um, yeah! You were going to leave, and it's six a.m. I didn't exactly have time to pack a bag. I barely made it in time to get a ticket."

Suddenly bursting into laughter, you lean your forehead against his shoulder. "I love you, but you are a huge idiot. Looks like shopping is on the agenda for this afternoon."

"Says the girl who got on a train at six in the fucking morning," he grumbles. "But I love you, too." Taking your hand once more, Taehyung presses a chaste kiss to your hair, causing you to look up at him in surprise. All he does is smile, a light dusting of pink across his cheeks. "C'mon, let's get a seat before this thing starts moving."

Nodding, you allow him to tug you to the back of the car, passing by several other people who are similarly attempting to get situated before departure. You find the farthest pair of booths to settle into, far away from the others. Taehyung takes the one across from yours, and helps you put your luggage in other overhead bin. 

As your companion settles into his seat, you flash a grateful smile his way. He tilts his head as he responds, "What's that look for?"

"For giving me the time I need," you respond, knocking your knee against his. "And for spending some quality time with me. Feels like it's been forever since it's been just us two."

The boxy smile makes an appearance, and Taehyung pulls your feet onto his lap, a gesture he did often before Sun-ji. "In the end, you'll always be my best friend, [Y/n]. No matter what."

The train begins to move. Within seconds, both of you are on your way to Busan. Eventually, the conversation fades to blissful quiet. Both of you are feeling the effects of a six a.m. train ride across South Korea. Taehyung's gaze moves to the window, sleepily watching the scenery go by until he falls asleep with your feet still in his lap.

Your attention remains on him. Despite being tired, you're far too full of a complex variety of emotions to sleep. Joy and excitement, relief and hope, and love. 

Love above all else.

There comes a moment in every person's life that they must decide whether or not the one they love is worth giving up their own happiness for. The line between the healthy amount of support and care that loved ones give each other is often convoluted, never easy to see, only ever clear in hindsight. Sometimes it takes time and distance away from that person for you to see whether or not this pain is worth it.

Though it took some time and distance, the outcome is just as you'd hoped. And you knew then, on that homeward bound train, that Taehyung was worth it all. 

#bangtan-madi writes #kim taehyung #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung oneshot #kim taehyung imagine #request #bts #bts imagine #bts fic #bts x reader #bts oneshot #kim taehyung fic #taehyung #taehyung fic #taehyung x reader #taehyung oneshot #taehyung imagine #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #friends to lovers #unrequited love #bts angst #bts fluff #best friend!taehyung #older brother!jimin

[sabraeal]

Desert & Reward, Chapter 10

[Read on AO3]

There’s someone in his room.

The windows are shut against the night air-- Yori, and by that he means Morel, has ideas about air flow and general health that he can’t wait for Miss to hear-- but a faint whisper skates across the stillness. It’s not his own breath; that’s been trapped in his chest since he flinched awake, fully conscious of the shade lingering in the shadows.

How gauche to kill a groom before his wedding night. Everyone knows corpses are only fashionable when found fresh on their marital bed.

But style is the least of his concerns right now. With a conscious effort, every tense muscle eases, his limbs flopping out like a limp starfish. Miss might complain about his sprawl after spending a cold night curled at the edge of the bed, but it was the perfect posture to imply a solid, dead to the world sort of unconsciousness.

There’s only one way to really sell this perfect deception: a snore. Not a dainty, fake one, oh no, but a wall-rattling, chest-and-throat-involved extravaganza of sound. There, obnoxious and oblivious: the perfect victim.

The sound of rustling cloth is muted beneath his act, but Obi hasn’t lasted this long by being a slouch in the perception department. His hand slithers under the pillow, clasping his fingers around a hilt. He hopes his murderer is enjoying the show; it’ll be the last thing they ever see, after all.

“My lord.”

Obi winces. That’s-- that’s much closer than he would have thought. His grip tightens, back tensing--

“My lord,” his attacker whispers again, beleaguered. “Get up.”

“Yori?” His eyes slit open, the dark room viewed from behind the cage of his lashes, and-- ah, there. Yori, his hair oddly askew, shirt glowing white in the dim. Ah, what did he always say? Assassins and domestics.

Obi rolls over, blinks. His valet is half-dressed. “Did you get in a fight?”

“A--? No, my lord.” He sighs, straightening from his servile crouch. “If my lord would be so kind, I’d feel better if you weren’t poised to attack me with cutlery.”

His grip loosens, blade dropping back to it’s place on the mattress. “It’s not cutlery.”

“Well, it’d certainly be more at home in a kitchen than the bedroom,” his valet huffs, hands wrapping around his hips. Mrs Carre will be so pleased to know he was getting a proper scolding even out of her care. “If you’re plan to keep that habit back home, then I’m going to start asking for hazard pay.”

He makes a sound half laugh, half snort, and entirely derisive. “Ah, come on. It’s not like it’s a new...”

His well of words dries up as Yori stares at him, head cocked and curious, arms crossed like a mother waiting for a weak explanation, and--

He hasn’t at Cacciatore. Purposefully, at first; there’s no better way to root out a traitor than to play into the expectation of a hapless lord. But then...

Well, the bedside drawer is just as good a hiding place as a pillow. One the maids were less likely to find, at least. Lili would take a discovery like that with her usual aplomb-- in his experience, Tanbarun made their ladies particlarly unflappable-- but any of the others...

Well, he could only imagine the sort of dressing down he’d get if one of Mrs Carre’s girls cut themselves changing the linen. He might be lord of the manor, but Obi’s under no illusions about whose house he lives in.

“What time is it?” He squints toward the widows. It’s impossible to tell; night’s faded from black to a thick blue, but his room faces west, not east.

“Early,” Yori replies, shirty. “You need to get up.”

Obi groans, throwing his arm over his eyes. If he closes them now, he might have a chance of slipping back into sleep. “We’re in the city, Yori. We keep city hours.”

“I understand, sir, but however--”

He rolls over, burying his face in the pillow. “Wake me up when breakfast is here.”

Yori heaves a long-suffering sigh. “Although there’s nothing I would like more than being able to ignore my duty and return to bed, my lord, there’s a message for you.”

“It’ll keep.”

“Sir--”

He opens a single, dubious eye. “Is something on fire, Yori?”

“No, but--”

“Then it can wait until morning.”

That should be the end of the conversation; it always was when he tried to pester Master-- Zen into action in the wee hours. But instead Yori shuffles, put-out, at the edge of the bed. “It’s from the gate, my lord.”

Obi’s never been one for pulling rank-- it stuck him as a little uppity to expect sirs and milords when he’d been dragged out of the gutter-- but oh, he’s tempted to now. If even the gate guards think they can rouse him in the middle of the night on a whim, it seems prudent to cultivate at least an inkling of noble bearing. “And?”

“Someone’s waiting for you.”

They take the servant’s corridors; the palace’s halls might be empty this time of night-- or morning-- but these are what Obi knows best. He might have a title now, but back in those days, he’d been an up-jumped gutter rat. Even with his shiny messenger tag, the court rested a little easier if the riffraff didn’t sully their air by breathing it.

It’s an advantage now; with no guards to ask their their business, they’ll make better time. From chambers to Starlight and back again, in bed before he can lose his beauty sleep.

“I hope you are aware, my lord--” if only Yori could teach him how to infuse so much derision into a title, Obi would die a happy, if thoroughly stabbed, man-- “that a man of proper breeding would submit to the whole of their toilette before even thinking of stepping foot out of their--”

“You got this robe on me.” A testament to Yori’s powers of persuasion, considering what an eyesore it is. “Don’t push your luck.”

“A banyan is the least you could do.” The crisp cut of his words channels every last stuffy inch of Mr Morel. “You might as well be walking around in your drawers.”

“Aw, come on.” He grins, letting the robe gape; even the peep of pajama brings a frown to Yori’s face. “You know better than anyone that I don’t wear any.”

His valet could teach a master class on sighs. “For someone so devoted to their line of their trouser, you might wear ones where it matters.”

He clucks his tongue. “And ruin the mystery?”

Something utterly intriguing ripples across Yori’s face, pinching his mouth and furrowing his brow, leaving him more Morel than man. “My lord, the trappings of the court may not suit you, but I beg you to concede to at least some form of propriety.”

He glances back at him, waggling his brows. “And why would I do that?”

“Your wife.”

Ah, now that stops him dead in his tracks. “My...?”

Yori squeezes a steeling breath through his nose. “It may have escaped you, my lord, but you are going to marry in the morning.”

All at once, he’s aware of how much his body aches. Last night-- no, only hours ago-- is...foggy, blurred by the patina of alcohol, but he could never forget the warm weight of Miss on his back, of the sweet way she clung to him as they flew through the air-- nor the sickening crack his bones made on that landing. Miss may be light, but unlike snow banks, balconies are hell on the knees.

Miss, who he was only carrying because she was too drunk to walk. Who was only drunk because she’d been at a hen party. Who was only at a hen party because it was being thrown in her honor. An honor she only had because she was due to get married in the morning. The same wedding he’d be having because they were marrying each other.

He needs a minute. A long one. His death grip on the wainscoting isn’t going to be enough to hold him. “It is morning.”

Yori’s mouth pulls thin; not the way Morel’s can, but close enough. “When it is more morning.”

There’s no blush of dawn linger at the horizon, only the mist of its breath, but oh, that is...more than enough. His Majesty sprung this impossibility on him only days ago, and now--

Well, he’d better enjoy his bachelorhood while he can. In a few short hours, he’ll be Miss’s ball and chain.

“And to a margravine,” Yori continues, sulkily keeping pace. “I know you’re content to hide away in the country for the rest of your life, my lord--” a lie, if Obi ever heard one-- “but your wife’ll want to keep a presence at court.”

He tries to picture it, tries to think of Miss weighed down by a dress so bejeweled it practically has its own economy, wearing a courtly mask for every occasion, talking of nothing but the latest fashion or the most shocking scandal and not hating every minute of it--

But it’s impossible. Tanbarun’s king can slap a title on her, but not even Master could make her enjoy it. She might come when a crown calls, but they’ll be prying her out from between the pages of a book.

Yori’ll learn all that soon enough. Or he would, if Miss came to live at Cacciatore. Which she wouldn’t; no reason to halt all her actual, important work for a fake marriage that’ll be nothing more than ashes in the pan in a handful of years anyway.

But Yori doesn’t know that-- can’t know that, if he wants to keep Miss away from whatever plans Tanbarun has for her. So he lets his mouth tilt, lets a sly smile creep up the curve of his jaw. The first rule of being a good gambler is never telling a man when he puts his money on the wrong bird. “You don’t say?”

“Of course I do.” His valet glances at him, cheeks puffed and brows bent, and tells him with all the undue confidence only an umarried man could, “If you’re to be married, sir, you might learn about the wants of women.”

He doesn’t laugh. When all this is over, His Majesty should put a medal on his chest for it. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Yori.” Obi blinks, eyes adjusting the the brilliant flare of the lamps. “This isn’t Starlight.”

His valet sighs. “No, my lord. It is not.”

“But you said there was a message for me--?”

“At the gate,” Yori confirms, beleaguered. “Poet’s gate.”

Obi would rather die than admit it but-- he’s starting to regret the banyan. Well, he’s always regretted the banyan, but the pajamas beneath it--

Well, he’s definitely under-dressed. For whatever this is.

Not that it looks like much. A coach idles at the foot of the stair, paneled all in black, but the rest of the courtyard is empty. Well, save for the swarm of footmen buzzing around, combing the carriage for every last hair of the lord that abandoned it. What sort of sadist arrives in the wee hours, Obi can’t say, but he’s glad all their wedding guests are accounted for, otherwise--

The door shuts, and there, staring him dead in the eye, is the horned hind of Forenzo.

“Obi!” Long limbs flail out from the swarm, and in the first blush of dawn, one of the footmen resolves into more inches than sense.

“Suzu?” He tries to tell himself to walk forward, but his legs stall numbly beneath him. The past three days have felt like a dream-- a nightmare, really-- but the sort he can control, the kind he can choose to wake up from.

“What...?” A foxish face looms just over him, grinning lazily. Suzu’s here now, and it’s all suddenly real. “What are you doing here?”

“I came with Lata,” he says, as if that explains anything. “He had an invitation.”

“Right.” Of course he did; not that Obi had ever expected him to use it. “But what are you doing here?”

“Oh, well, we figured if he was coming, we should go too.” One large hand sweeps over the ill-fitting Forenzo livery. “So here I am.”

Obi blinks. “And Lata just...let you?”

“Oh, no. Definitely not.” He shrugs, sending arms everywhere. “He told us it would be a cold day in Yuris before he let a single one of us show up as his plus one.”

That sounds right, at least. “Mmhm.”

“So we played roshambo for it,” Suzu continues, “and I told him I’d be his servant or whatever.”

“And that...worked?” Maybe this was all still a dream. It’s following the same sort of logic, at least.

“Yeah! Actually--” Suzu rubs at his chin, just the way Shidan does, only with far less reason or facial hair-- “he seemed happy not to have to go and interview people for it.”

That made sense, at least.

“You’re Lord Forenzo’s valet?”

Suzu glances up, blinking at where his own stands, just three steps up from where they’re talking. “Yeah, that sounds like what he said.”

Yori, for his part, looks politely horrified. Obi can’t blame him; Suzu doesn’t give off the air of being in charge of himself, let alone another person, especially one expected to participate in a toilette of some kind.

Still, that’s not the part that bothers him, personally. “But why?”

“Well--” Suzu sucks in a breath, hands hooking around his hips like Yuzuri does right before she lays into him-- “my guess would be his complete lack of social skills--”

“No, not that.” He doesn’t exactly need a primer on Lata Forenzo being a misanthrope. “I mean why did you bother going through all that trouble?”

Obi’s come face to face with a fox once, years ago now. He’d been doing the long walk of shame that came from country kills, no trees to help him along and no reason to hurry back to his cramped quarters, when two foxes darted across his path. Or at least one did, scurrying across into the long grass in a rusty streak. The other--

The other sat there, right in front of him, one paw raised. Like he couldn’t be seen if he didn’t move. Or maybe that the scarecrow staring down at him couldn’t attack as long as he kept him in his sight. Obi had to turn his back before the thing dared to dart away, and only once his friend let out an eerie whimper.

But for that moment, amber burned into gold, and the gulf between human and fox seemed so, infinitesimally small--

Well, it’s what he thinks of as Suzu stares at him, those sharp angles of his cheeks limned in the dawn’s light.

“C’mon.” Suzu’s mouth curls into a sure smile, one fist tapping him on the shoulder. “The best man can’t miss the wedding.”

“Ah...” Obi rubs at the back of his head. “About that...”

“Prince Zen is Marquis Conti’s best man,” Yori offers, strangely bitter. “You know, the second prince.”

Obi cranes his neck back with a scowl. “That’s not my name.”

Yori, with not a contrite bone in his body, says, “Apologies, my lord.”

Obi turns back, a much more sincere apology brewing behind his teeth, but Suzu is too busy frowning over his shoulder to appreciate it. “Who is this guy?”

“Ah...” Obi had left Lyrias with a jaunty wave and a promise to be back before the next snow; he’d thought that a royal reward consisted of a fancy title and some cash, a quick trip down to sweat in the capital before coming back to freeze at the castle.

And then, well--

“I am my lord’s personal valet,” Yori informs him, giving Suzu’s slapdash livery a perusal that could only be described as scathing.

“Oh!” Suzu’s mouth parts in a grin that usually means he’s about to get punched. “You have one of these too? Am I going to get one?”

“Ancestors forfend,” Yori mutters at the same time Obi adds, louder, “I think only lords get them.”

Suzu hums. “Well, I suppose I can’t mind being second fiddle to a guy that is, you know, a prince.”

“It’s political,” Obi assures Suzu with a grimace. “Not personal. If I ever get married for re--”

His teeth clack shut. Ah, so many months out in the country have dulled his edge. Or at least loosened his tongue.

“It’s all right, man.” Suzu’s gaze darts pointedly over his shoulder. “I’ll forgive you this time. I still get to come, right?”

Yori steps in. “The tables are already--”

“Yes.” For the first time in what feels like days, Obi actual smiles. “I’ll make sure there’s room for you.”

He deserves at least one real thing on his wedding day, after all.

“Great!” Suzu’s mouth stretches wide. “I’m famished.”

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #desert and reward #ans #here it is #my holiday gift to all of you! #merry christmas to all who celebrate! #i'd been wanted to get to a CERTAIN PART in this chapter #but it would have made this solidly 6K #and I try to keep these until 5K #so i guess it will happen NEXT TIME #when we actually get to the WEDDING for once #....hopefully

[javier-djarin]

Como Me Duele: Chapter 2

Ship: Javi x Reader

Rating: M

Word Count: 3,385 words

Warnings: Language, Sexual Innuendos, fluff, Dad!Steve (sorta)

Masterlist

Summary: You’ve started getting comfortable in Colombia. Connie and Steve decide to take you out on the town to meet up with some of your new coworkers. Javier can’t help but tag along once he sees you dressed to kill.

A/N: Ahh! I got such an amazing outpour of love and support for chapter 1. Thank you to everyone that has read it! I love you all! Here’s chapter 2!! So, please let me know what you think. Please let me know if you want to be on my taglist! Also, translations are at the bottom.

Your POV

You’d been living comfortably in your apartment for a week now and weren’t scheduled to start working at the hospital until the end of the month. However, thanks to Connie, you had gotten to know several of the staff members that worked there because you had gone out with them last Friday. Connie had invited you to go out with her and some colleagues tonight. They decided to go dancing down at a club in the middle of the city. You were a little nervous to go out dancing with people you hardly knew, but she reassured you that she and Steve would both be there if you needed anything. 

You spent hours trying to find something to wear, when you had reached back into the far corner of your closet and found the ONE dancing dress you owned. It was a tight, body-con red dress with a deep V-neck you had worn only once before. Michael didn’t take you dancing very often; it wasn’t really his scene, but you loved it. As a birthday gift a few years ago, he broke down and took you dancing. He even bought this dress for you. You felt your heart crack a little as you looked at it on the hanger. It was all you had to wear though. You set it on your bed and went into the bathroom to do your hair and make-up. You popped your contacts in and began the long process of getting ready.

Connie and Steve were supposed to arrive at your place in about fifteen minutes. You put the final touch - hairspray - on your loose curls that flowed down your back and shoulders. You smiled at yourself in the mirror. This was the first time you felt beautiful in a long time. You knew it was small, but you felt like this was your actual first step you were taking to move on. There was a knock on your door. You hurried out of your bathroom, grabbing your small clutch. You fixed your hair and dress one final time before opening the door. Connie and Steve were standing there, astonished. “Y/N, you look great!” Connie exclaimed. She was wearing her own dress, but not quite as tight and low cut as yours.

You felt the sudden urge to cover yourself as Steve’s eyes grew wide. “I guess this is a giant ‘fuck you’ to Michael,” he laughed.

You tried to smile at him. “This is the dress he bought me for my birthday a few years ago.”

Connie wrapped her arm through yours. “Perfect. We’ll find you someone that will happily defile that dress for him.”

You laughed this time and felt more confident than ever. Steve led the way down the stairs as you locked the door behind you. “Murphy,” you heard a familiar baritone voice just down the stairwell say, “you clean up nice for a fucking hillbilly.”

“Fuck you, Peña.”

Your heart raced a little, but you couldn’t explain why. You did your best to hide it and held your head high as you walked with Connie down the stairs.

“Where are you headed?”

“I’m taking the girls out to meet some friends.”

“You don’t have any friends,” Peña laughed.

“Again. Fuck you, Peña.”

He continued to laugh, but stopped when he saw you descending the stairs. You weren’t sure if he was aware that his mouth fell open when he looked at you, but he was definitely aware of the blush on your cheeks. He smiled as soon as you tried to look away from him. “Alguien está vestida para matar,” he said, still looking at you, clearly trying to imagine what that dress would look like on his floor. Any time you heard him speak in Spanish, you wanted to melt into the floor, especially when he rolled his r’s. 

“Tú, si no tienes cuidado,” you said quickly.

Impressed, he nodded his head towards you. “I guess I need to watch what I say in both languages.”

You glanced over at him through your long eyelashes and gave him the same devilish grin he gave you the first time you met. You tried to maintain your cool composure, but his black button down shirt clung to his broad chest and stretched over his arms, making your knees even weaker. You didn’t see Connie and Steve share a look as they tried to stifle a laugh. They both knew that Javier was going to have his hands full if he made any moves on you. He tore his eyes away from yours and cleared his throat. “Well, since you’re meeting with friends, I better come along.”

“Peña, don’t I get enough of you at the office?” Steve prodded.

Javier tossed his arm around Steve. “Oh, come on, partner. We’re friends.”

Connie and you covered your mouths to mask your smiles and quiet laughs. Javier shot a glance over at you, raking his eyes up and down your body. You wanted to feel self-conscious, but you’d never felt so desired before. Michael hadn’t looked at you like that in a long time, so it was refreshing to know you still had - better yet, you never lost it. You wrapped your arm through Connie’s as you both followed Steve out of the building. Javier, stumbling, was walking behind you. Instinctively, and just to torture him, you moved your hips just a tad more seductively. You glanced over your shoulder at him, catching him stopping on the top step to watch you walk away. “¡Muévete, Peña!” you shouted, startling him out of the trance your hips put him in. 

Connie laughed again and leaned closer to your ear. “I know I said to ignore him, but this is so much more entertaining,” she whispered.

“He’s not even trying to be subtle,” you laughed, looking back at him.

“Hey, now, ladies. Secrets don’t make friends,” he replied as he jogged down the stairs.

“They do when they’re about someone else,” you grinned.

He raised his eyebrow in curiosity. You guys made it the stoop of your building as you waited for Steve to pull his car around. “Care to share?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No.”

Javier looked to Connie for help, but she just laughed. Steve pulled the car around and hopped out. Javier beat you to the door and held it open for you. “So, you’re a gentleman too?” you chided. 

“Tengo más sorpresas si me dejas enseñarte,” he whispered to you as you slid past him. His breath tickled the back of your neck, sending chills up and down your spine. 

“No espere mucho,” you said back, once he took the seat next to you.

You saw Steve shake his head and look at Connie, rolling his eyes. She gave him a look back that you guessed only meant, “At least she’s having fun. Just let it be.”

You tried to find the best way to sit in such a tight dress. The hem slid up your legs just a tad, but enough that you knew it would drive Javier wild. You crossed your legs, revealing more of your thigh as you pretended to look out the window - using your peripheral vision to watch Javier salivate all over himself.

His POV

He threw his arm over the back of the seat and rested the other on the door, looking at her poised so perfectly in the back seat with him. He knew she was doing everything on purpose, because he wasn’t good at hiding his emotions around a very beautiful woman. Honestly, they were his kryptonite. One glance his way, and Y/N had him. He vaguely remembered his promise to Steve, but if she was playing along with this little game, he couldn’t not give her what she wanted. After all, she would tell him to leave her alone, if she wasn’t interested. He picked up on that just by her fiery personality. Javi glanced up at Steve for a millisecond, and he could see him watching him in the rearview mirror. Peña flipped him off subtly and continued to watch her. Steve and Connie were lost in their own conversation, so Javi turned to her to start his own. He lightly cleared his throat to get her attention. She slowly, gracefully turned to look at him - her curls moving across her bare shoulder and bouncing next to her arm. “Cat got your tongue?” she asks with a smile that just about killed him on the spot.

“Nope,” he grinned, shooting another glance at Steve, who was still occasionally looking back at them. “Mia hermosa.”

She rolled her eyes at the cheesy nickname he coined for her. She turned to look back out the window. “Where are you from?” he asked, leaning closer to her. 

She changed positions, crossing her other leg to face Javi. His eyes couldn’t help but drop to the deep V in her dress. “Los ojos arriba,” she said, glaring at him. 

Javi moved his other hand to the middle seat, closer to her thigh. “You didn’t answer the question,” he grinned.

“Texas,” she replied.

He smirked. “Yo soy de Texas tambien.” His hand on the seat moved a little to play with one of her curls.

“What part?” she asked.

“Laredo.”

“Ah, El Paso.” She gestures to herself. 

His grin widens a little as he moves his hand closer to her.

“Peña!” Steve exclaims from the front seat.

Y/N covers her mouth and laughs, as Javier moves back a little from her. “Sorry, Dad.”

“She doesn’t want you groping her,” Steve says through his teeth.

Connie slapped her husband’s shoulder. “Steve!”

“What! Do you want him back there harassing your best friend?”

“She’s a big girl,” he says, turning his attention back to Y/N, “Me dirá si no quiere la toque.”

He saw her try not to swoon over his Spanish. “He’s harmless, Steve,” she said, looking Javier in the eyes. “I was about to slap him away if you didn’t.”

Javier thought he saw her wink at him, but it was so fast he thought he imagined it 

***

Steve parked the car just outside of the club. Javier jumped out fast to get the door for her. Her small, soft hand fit perfectly into his as she held on to him to stand up. “Gracias, hermoso,” She said in a sarcastic, seductive tone.

He placed his hand in the small of her back as they followed Steve and Connie to the door. “Don’t get ahead of yourself there, cowboy,” she whispered.

He grinned. Once inside, Connie grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the table where several doctors and nurses were waiting for them. Javier stood next to Steve and sighed. He watched her sit next to an attractive young doctor, who had his arm draped over the back of the booth just above her. “Who’s that guy?” Javier asked.

“Some doctor Connie works with.”

“Oh, so it’s fine if Connie’s colleagues hit on her, but if I do, the world ends.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “That’s exactly what will happen.”

“Then what is it?” Peña pleaded.

His partner led him to the bar, where they sat down away from the group. “You remind Connie and I of her ex,” he sighed, “and if you remind us of him, you’re definitely a reminder for her.”

Peña grabbed the glass of whisky the bartender dropped off. “Well, I’m not her ex. I’m not a piece of shit that will cheat on her.”

Steve choked on his drink. “You’re kidding, right?” Peña looked at him, offended, “Look, you can hardly keep the same woman in your bed for more than two weeks, and aren’t you a regular down at the brothel?”

He knew Steve was right, and he hardly knew her enough to say he’d give all of that up. For all he knew, he just wanted her to be another notch on his bedpost.  He turned in his chair and leaned his back against the bar. “But look at her.” He saw her glancing over at him with a smile, and his heart stopped. “I think you need to let her make that decision.”

“Peña,” he said, “Connie already warned her about you. She loves you, but she doesn’t think you’re right for her best friend.”

“I think Y/N disagrees, because here she comes,” he grinned, finishing his drink and setting it on the bar.

“Secrets don’t make friends,” she said to him.

“They do when they’re about someone else,” he replied, giving her a taste of her own medicine.

She laughed, and he felt his heart start again. It was the most angelic sound he’d ever heard. “There’s plenty of room for both of you at the table,” she said.

The young doctor came up from behind her and placed a hand on her back. Javi tensed up and clenched his jaw, instantly jealous of this doctor. “¿Quieres bailar conmigo?” he said in her ear.

She grinned and turned to face him. “Sí. Uno momento, por favor.”

She turned back to Javi. “Lo siento. Anyway, Connie told me to tell you both to stop being fuddy duddies and come to the table.”

Steve sighed and resigned to doing his wife’s wishes. Javi held back for a moment. “¿Quien es ese cabrón?”

Y/N blushed and looked over to her dance partner. “Dr. Rodriguez. He’s new to the hospital too. Kinda cute, don’t you think?” She nudged Javi in the side.

Javi let out a disgruntled growl. “Yeah, if you’re into the lost puppy look.”

“Oh, you mean like the look you’re always giving me?” She walked away with the same gait she had at the apartment complex. 

He was only pulled out of his trance when he heard Steve yell for him from across the bar. “Peña, get your ass over here!”

He rolled his eyes and joined them, taking Dr. Rodriguez’s seat next to a cute, young nurse. On any normal night, he would be making his moves on the nurse, but not with Y/N distracting him. He looked out at the dance floor and saw the cabrón holding her closer than he would have liked. She spun around so she was facing him, but continued dancing with the doctor. Rodriguez wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in closer as his hand rested on her lower abdomen. Javi’s hand balled into a fist. He turned to the nurse next to him and smiled. “¿Quieres bailar conmigo?” he whispered delicately in her ear.

She smiled at him and involuntarily licked her bottom lip. She daintily held her hand out for him to take and lead her to the dance floor. More people flooded the dance floor, including Steve and Connie. He grabbed the nurse, holding her close to him so he could look over her shoulder at Y/N.

Your POV

You watched Javi dance and move against Lolita, the nurse, and you felt your face turn red. You haven't dated in a while, but you knew this feeling. You were jealous, and you knew just how to get him back. You placed Rodriguez’s hands on your hips, letting him pull you closer as you moved to his rhythm. Despite you doing this to annoy Javi, this felt good. You hadn’t been touched by a man in months. You were so touch starved that you were borderline desperate. 

His POV

Javi felt his face flush, so he buried his face in the nurse’s hair and let his hands travel down her body. Lolita pulled away and rested her forehead on his as she smiled. He tried looking around her so he could still watch Y/N. He felt like shit using this poor woman to get to her, but she had left him no other choice. He saw her reach up a hand behind her and place it on Rodriguez’s face as she laid her head back on his chest. Rodriguez then buried his face in the base of her neck. At that point, Javi had enough. “Lo siento. No puedo hacer esto.” He dropped his hands from the nurse and started to approach Y/N and Rodriguez.

Your POV

You had closed your eyes as soon as Rodriguez started kissing your neck. Thank god for the loud music, because you were pretty sure you let out a small moan. You were on cloud nine when you suddenly heard a loud baritone voice boom over you, “¡Oye, cabrón! Ella esta conmigo.” You opened your eyes and saw a very flushed Javi standing in front of you.

“Javi!” you exclaimed, it’s the first time you had called him by a nickname.

“Dance with me,” he demanded.

You turned to Dr. Rodriguez who was looking very confused at the two of you. “¿Estás con él?” he asked.

“Vine con él pero no estoy con él.”

“Ella esta conmigo,” Javi growled.

His growl turned something in you, and you leapt out of Rodriguez’s arms into Javi’s without a second thought. Rodriguez held his hands up in defeat and dutifully bowed out of the dance. “What the fuck!” You exclaimed.

“Javi…?” he grinned at the use of a nickname.

“What? Connie calls you that.”

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close. “If anyone gets to dance with you like that, it’s me.”

“That’s if I want to dance with you,” you replied, throwing your arms around his neck, playing with the small curls at the base of his skull.

“Then walk away.” His breath on your skin sent more chills down your spine. 

“I also don’t like being told what to do.” You felt his hands rest on your hips. “Just because I let you dance with me, doesn’t mean I’m going to let you take me home.”

He laughed. You could listen to him laugh forever. “Are you going to dance with me, or just stand there trying to see down my dress?”

“I can do both at the same time if you’d like,” he grinned.

“I knew you’d be trouble when I first met you.”

“Por siempre y para siempre, hermosa.”

***

It was at least three in the morning when everyone stumbled back to the apartment. Connie had had too much to drink, and so Steve was carrying her up to their apartment leaving you and Javi alone in the stairwell. “So…?” he started, raising an eyebrow at you suggestively. 

You put a hand on his chest, preventing him from joining you on the same step. “Hold on there, cowboy. I may be drunk, but not too drunk to remember telling you that you’re not taking me home tonight.”

He grinned. “Tonight? So you’re saying there’s a chance later.”

You leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for a fun night, Javi. I haven’t had this much fun since…” You paused.

You wanted to explain, but you felt like he already knew. He rubbed your arm to console you and nodded. “Any time, Y/N. That’s what friends are for.”

Smiling, you replied, “So we’re friends now? Five seconds ago, I do believe you were trying to look down my dress again.”

Javi blushed. “We’re friends, until you decide to change that.” He returned the kiss on your cheek and walked into his apartment.

You felt butterflies in your stomach as you watched him close his door for the night. This was not how you were expecting this interaction to end, but you couldn’t feel happier. Javi made you feel sexy, wanted, and since Michael cheated on you, you never felt like you were enough. You craved to have Javi look at you, like he did when he first saw you walk down the stairs. He made you feel like a beautiful woman again who deserved every bit of attention he was giving her. However, your wounds were still too fresh. You weren’t ready for anything like that. On top of that, Javi reminded you too much of the early days when you and Michael were together. A few times, while you were dancing, that’s who you pictured was holding you. But Michael had stopped being that man long before he cheated. Men like him were always the same. Restless. Unfaithful. Just looking for another notch on their bedpost. 

Translations

Hermoso/Hermosa - Handsome/Beautiful

Alguien está vestida para matar. - Someone is dressed to kill.

Tú, si no tienes cuidado. - You, if you’re not careful.

¡Muévete! - Look alive! or Hurry up!

Tengo más sorpresas si me dejas enseñarte. - I have more surprises if you’ll let me show you.

No espere mucho. - Literally: Don’t wait long. It’s another way to say “Don’t hold your breath.”

Los ojos arriba. - Eyes up here.

Yo soy de Texas tambien. - I’m from Texas too.

Me dirá si no quiere la toque. - She’ll tell me if she doesn’t want me to touch her.

¿Quieres bailar conmigo? - Do you want to dance with me?

Sí. Uno momento, por favor. - Yes, just one minute, please.

Lo siento. - I’m sorry.

¿Quien es ese cabrón? - Who is that asshole?

 No puedo hacer esto. - I can’t do this.

¡Oye, cabrón! Ella esta conmigo. - Hey, asshole! She’s with me.

¿Estás con él? - Are you with him?

Vine con él pero no estoy con él. - I came with him, but I’m not with him.

Por siempre y para siempre, hermosa. - Forever and for always, beautiful.

Taglist

@magneticbucky

@larakasser

#Javier Pena #Javier Peña #Javier Pena x Reader #Javi x Reader #Narcos #Como me Duele

[imaginesbymk]

Small Bump.

The Walking Dead One Shot

Summary: Negan and Y/n are a couple, and she finds out she’s pregnant.

Pairing: Negan x Reader

Tags: mentions of intercourse, violence

A/N: Revived from my old writing blog!!

OUT OF ALL OF NEGAN’S WIVES, Y/N was his favourite, the only one of them that had true loyalty and real love towards a man with such a brutal side of him, but also a man with sweet talk and affection. One that really cared and saw some humanity in him.

They grew close, the more they did, the less attention he gave to his other wives. It was like they never existed. It was like he didn't care if they left.

Y/N looked at her lover bent with the tasks of whatever community he was gonna visit next and saw him through the entrance of the factory. She could hear him telling how he sent his second-in-command, Simon, out to a community called Alexandria only to find that the man they were having a search party for, Daryl, wasn't there after all.

Instead, Negan balled his hand into a fist, before sticking Lucille inches away from his face and closes his eyes shut. Too shut. Y/N carefully makes her way down the rusty stairs and sprints toward him.

"Careful with Lucille, you might hit her with something, or someone."

"Y/N, baby, it's like going to a potluck looking for the rolls when actually no rolls are rolled up at the table. Daryl's missing." Negan's eyes softened when Y/N pursed her lips.

He sighs. "Screw it. Like hell he'll turn up alive. If he is, I want him back. God forbid I go easy on that stupid prick."

Y/N had suffered when the some of the Saviours, one by one, got killed by the people Daryl was with. She didn't want to lose Negan too, over her dead body. And she knew why.

Y/N loved Negan to the moon and back. The rest of his wives were just there, and one girl named Amber got into so much shit for seeing a man named Mark behind Negan's back.

She would never do that to him.

Negan tucks a strand of hair behind Y/N's ear. "It's late. Bedtime, darling?"

Before Y/N could even tuck herself into bed, Negan wraps his arms around her and throws her down onto the mattress. She laughs as he nuzzles his face into her neck.

While this is going on, Y/N notices a slight change in her body. She began to feel nauseous, but she ate a good meal the entire day, and everyone double checks to see if the food hasn't been contaminated. Maybe she was feeling anxious ... but for what, though?

She brushes it off.

Negan kept going on. "And what would ever happen if I never brought you in? Told you I ever loved you? Let you hold Lucille ..." He whispers into her hair. "There's only you, my sweet baby, that I give a shit about a hundred and nineteen percent."

She had promised him, "I wouldn't trade this for anything else. Not even for my old life back." Negan would laugh and kiss her many times, he liked to hear her say it and only her.

SHE SITS UP FROM THE BED, quickly but quiet enough not to wake up the sleeping, shirtless Negan with his back facing her. She crept out of bed slowly to stretch her arms and legs- not long before feeling the same uneasy feeling in her stomach, the same feeling she brushed off from last night.

Oh shit.

She rushes to the nearest bathroom, one room was unoccupied and thank the Lord the locks weren't broken. She drops on her knees and belches out whatever content was once inside her system and out into the bowl.

She pulls her own hair back with one hand and uses her other arm to wipe her mouth.

Negan had built the Sanctuary with the help of other men, which included the Doctor's office. It had the named Carson written on a block on the desk and Y/N stares at it patiently waiting for Dr. Carson to finish filling up a glass of water.

After he hands it to her, he sighs. "Are you fairly certain that you're-"

"Wanna keep the volume to a minimum? People have ears," Y/N snaps.

Doctor Carson shrugs and shuts the door. He continues. "How long have you been with Negan?"

"A while. Maybe a few months but not long, I guess?" She buries her face into her hands. "I've slept with him before, but he does that with his other wives.”

"Last time you two had intercourse, was it with a condom?"

Now that Y/N thought about it, she didn't remember Negan bringing one. She didn't know if he was intoxicated that night or if he planned on bringing a mini Negan to a world that has crumbled to pieces.

"Explains it, then. Sherry's been trying with Dwight for a while."

"And how's that working out?" Y/N knew who Sherry and Dwight were. She believes they're not together as much considering Sherry is one of Negan's wives, but she'd rather run a blade through her hand than kiss Negan's lips every so often.

Doctor Carson doesn't say anything, only a stare.

Y/N nods. "Right well, they should of thought it over before that mullet-haired scientist bit Dwight's dick off like it was a twinkie."

The doctor doesn't laugh. "Y/N, I'll give you a pregnancy test but if it's positive, are you gonna tell Negan?"

"Do I have a choice? If my small bump grows within what- nine months? You think I'm just gonna brush it off and tell Negan that I've just been eating a lot?"

"You can't handle a baby, Y/N. Especially if it's Negan's. He has a lot on his plate right now. Word got around that a war is coming, and one of our workers, Daryl, is still missing. Bringing a baby into this world is a mission. What if you can't find formula or anything a baby needs?"

"That's where the Saviours come in and tell other communities to bring half their shit. That helps!"

"What if Negan doesn't want it? What if he ignores you or tells you he doesn't want you or the baby?"

That, that really hurt. But what if it did happen? Y/N was still so close to puking again, but it was due to the situation that sickened her. Negan's something else, and he's not very good with people that aren't on the same page as him.

She sighs softly and allows a tear to flow down her cheek. "Just give me the box. I'll test it out as soon as I'm alone."

SHE WAITED for what seemed like an eternity and finally looks down to read the stick. Positive.

Y/N began to hear voices near the bathroom. She adjusts her dress and stuffs everything in a bag before opening the door. The coast was clear, just a few guys on their lunch break.

Could she believe what just happened? What did she expect? She's in a relationship with the Saviours' leader. She can't avoid him, and he hates people who avoid him.

Doctor Carson was right anyway. Raising a baby in a world full of walking corpses is just as bad as anything else.

Throughout the day Doctor Carson's words troubled her through her mind. She would sit alone in her room with the door locked shut and the blinds closed so no light would shine in. Negan would be back any-

Y/N jumps when she is greeted by a loud bang on the door. She draws a long breath while opening it, revealing Simon.

"Screw you! You almost gave me a heart attack," she sighs in relief.

"Negan wants to see you," he says without even saying a proper hello. "He said he hasn't seen you all day, and you didn't come to eat brunch."

She shrugs and brushes passed him, making a few turns toward the factory.

By the time she arrived, Negan drew a punch on a Saviour, taking pleasure at the mark he left on the man's nose. He laughs before barking out, "Ah, you gotta learn to say please and thank you to whoever serves you food. Have you not been taught any manners by your mother? We worked our asses off and shit! We got food and everything! And yet a prick like you can't even say the magic words. Am I clear?”

The Saviour nods before apologizing. Negan motions a woman to give the man a cloth for his nosebleed.

When people moved onto business, Y/N picks up the courage to step down the stairs and drop a call out to him, catching Negan's attention.

"Darling," he greets her with a kiss on the forehead. "Where have you been all day?"

"I wasn't feeling good this morning. I stayed in our room," she explains. It wasn't a lie, and she wouldn't want to lie to Negan ever.

She gulps. "I need to tell you something."

Negan raises his eyebrows, but Y/N couldn't find a way to say it. Not even muttering a syllable.

He was already impatient, but he concealed it with a smile. "Well, I don't got all day, baby. What is it?"

The same words echoed her mind.

... You can't handle a baby, Y/N. Especially if it's Negan's ...

"Negan, I'm pregnant."

#negan imagine #negan one shot #negan x reader #reader insert #the walking dead #the walking dead one shot #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead negan #twd one shot #twd negan

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 92

Chapter Summary -   Sophie has the baby.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​​ @jessibelle-nerdy-mum​​ @nonsensicalobsessions​​ @damalseer​​ @hiddlesbitch1​​ @winterisakiller​​ @fairlightswiftly​​ @salempoe​​​ @wolfsmom1​​​

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Danielle squeaked with joy causing Mac to jump up and stare at her in confusion for the high pitched sound. Tom ran into the room confused, his phone in his hand as he read over what the Jimmy Kimmel show had sent him after his afternoon at the BBC as he rushed around readying for the travelling part of the Skull Island tour. "Elle?"

"Sophie had a little boy!" She squeaked again, hopping up and down in the spot, "Bubble is here."

"You are going to call that poor child 'bubble' still?"

"Shut up. He's here and he is so cute."

"She sent you a picture?"

"It's a group text thing I'd imagine, they named him Hal."

"Short for Henry?"

"I suppose, I mean Christopher is Kit, so you know." She leant up and kissed him. "I need to get some presents ready."

"Are you going to the hospital?"

"Jesus no, I dare say it is families only today, but I want to have everything ready." She sang chirpily as she went for the stairs.

"She is more excited about this that I thought she would be," Tom admitted to Mac, who was looking between him and the door as though asking Tom why his owner had gone insane. He walked upstairs to see Danielle picking out some of the clothes she had bought for the baby. "This is a bit much, isn't it, I mean, he won't get to play with this or wear that until he is Christopher's age." He pointed to a toy and a little outfit in front of Danielle.

"Those are for Christopher." She informed him. "Everyone is going to be all about the new baby, I don't want him to feel like he is left out."

Tom's brows furrowed. "Are you sure you don't have any siblings?" he asked curiously. "I remember when Emma was born, I was jealous, people did sort of ignore Sarah and myself."

"I remember other people talking about it, I just want to be nice."

Tom wrapped his arms around her, "You are being incredibly nice." He smiled. "You're not getting baby-fever, are you?"

Danielle laughed. "No, not yet. I mean, I know that I would like that, but not yet. Though I enjoy practising."

Tom's brow rose. "Practising?" Tom's eyes widened when he realised what she was saying. "Oh."

"Speaking of practising, you're leaving me in the middle of the night and we won't get to…" Danielle ceased speaking when Tom rushed over to the bedside locker that held the condoms she had purchased for their the few days before and pulled it out. Looking into the box, he grinned. "Perfect, one left."

"We cannot have gone through six of them already," she stated in shock as she walked over and looked in. "How?"

"The night of the sexy lace, the morning after, the afternoon after, yesterday morning, the torn one and last night, then this one." Tom recited with a grin on his face. "We have so much sex."

"No, we are calculating in that we will be apart for two weeks. What date are you back to me?"

"The 18th."

"Damn."

"What?"

"I have the interview in New York then."

"When are you home?"

"The 19th."

Tom pulled her onto the bed to him, "And I have the Empire awards that night, meaning this condom very much is needed now." He grinned, kissing her.

"Don't let it tear." She warned, straddling his hips.

*

"Half an hour tops," Danielle stated firmly as they pulled up outside the hospital with the presents for Hal. Because of Tom leaving early for his flight, Ben suggested they say hello before he left if they had nothing planned. So with a dinner ready for their return, Danielle and Tom agreed to a quick visit to the hospital.

Ben had ensured no one from the public knew that Hal had arrived, and though there was an element of risk to it, Tom and Danielle walked into the hospital together. "Wow." Tom looked around, "This place is like a hotel." they went to the reception and were issued two visitor passes and were instructed where to go.

"Security is really tight here," Danielle noted.

"Elle, this is where Kate had George and Charlotte, the Beckhams had their kids here, this is effectively the penthouse of hospitals," Tom explained.

"So that's why the ID check, I knew I was being accused of looking too much like a filthy peasant." She joked as they got in the elevator. "I don't like it here, it's too…I dunno, hospitals are supposed to have of a din to them, especially maternity ones, it's almost like a library."

"And you would be a connoisseur of hospitals how…?"

"Five years as an emergency responder you big twat." Danielle laughed, Tom, becoming somewhat sheepish at not having remembered such a simple thing.

"So, no to having any kids here?"

Danielle looked around as they left the elevator. "It just seems too much." she paused for a moment, "Wait, did I read before that you get lobster and a bottle of champagne when you come out from the delivery room here?"

"I think that is some deluxe package."

"Jesus Christ, it was a far cry from this I was reared."

"So no posh baby hospital for you then?" the pair turned to see Ben behind them, smiling brightly. "Hello."

"Congratulations." Danielle was closer him, so she was the first to be given a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek. "How is everyone?"

"They are good, Sophie is obviously tired, Hal is settling and Kit is unimpressed. I think he thought there would be someone for him to play with, instead of a bundle of boring." Ben stated before getting a large hug from Tom, who clapped his back as he did so. "Hey, what time are you off?"

"Danielle is dropping me to the airport at half four, the flight is in the air at six."

"Thanks for coming before you left. I didn't think you would want to be sharing him with everyone before he left." Ben joked.

"Bubble is here, we have to say hello."

"Jesus, don't call him that." Ben pleaded, but he continued to smile. His eyes fell on the bags in Danielle's hand. "Why is there more than one?"

"One is for Hal and one is for Kit."

"You got something for Kit?"

"Well, everyone will be all about the new baby, I didn't want him to feel left out," Danielle explained sheepishly.

Ben beamed in delight, "Well, thank you for being so considerate, though I dare say you have gone overboard…again." Danielle simply shrugged. "We head down this hall here, she's excited to hear you both could come, especially with the early start."

"How could we not?" Tom clapped his friend's shoulder.

On entering the room, they were met with Sophie sitting up in the bed with the newest member of the Cumberbatch family in her arms. "Hey."

"Hi," Though they were not friends overly long, Danielle darted to her and gave her a one-armed hug. "How are you?"

"Tired."

"I bet." She looked down and her face turned to one of delight and awe. "Look at him, he is so cute." her voice went up a few octaves. "His little lips and nose and ears and…okay, he's adorable."

"What is it with women and turning to emotional messes at the sight of a baby?" Ben asked as both men looked at the interaction. He nudged Tom in the side, "Be warned."

"Not yet." Tom grinned back.

"'Yet' there's a 'yet'?" Ben toyed.

Tom merely smiled more and moved towards Sophie, "Congratulations." He kissed her cheek, having gone to the other side of the bed to Danielle, "He looks a lot like his big brother, very cute." "Of course he is, have you met his mother?" Danielle pointed to Sophie.

"You see," Sophie stated to Ben with tears in her eyes. "This is why I love her." she wiped them. "Stupid hormones."

"Yeah, the post-baby slump is legendary." Danielle stated as she rummaged through a bag, "Chocolates?"

Sophie openly wept at that. "You remembered."

Ben and Tom looked on in concern. "Apparently after Kit she really wanted these chocolates but didn't get them," Danielle informed them.

"I would have if I was told to." Ben pointed out in his defence.

"Well, they're got." Danielle shrugged.

"Ben, your mum said to ring her at six."

"Shit." it was already ten past. "I'll go do that, Tom?" He indicated to the door.

Tom looked at Danielle. "I think we can cope." She scoffed, watching him follow his friend.

*

Bye, mum." Ben hung up the phone. "So, they're on the way in with Kit now and I will take him home for the night after they all get to see Hal."

"Congratulations," Tom grinned as they stood in an area of the hospital with proper reception. "How does it feel?"

"Terrifying, I went from one little terror that depends on me to two," Ben answered honestly. "So, what is going on with you two now? Better?"

Tom's smile was enough of an answer. "Brilliant. I went over to her, as I told you; we talked things through and I think things are even better now."

"What about her and the whole 'public' situation?"

"We are announcing it when I come back. Well, not announcing, we are just going to start going places, walking Mac together, go for the occasional meal, nothing to flaunt and when the paps come sniffing, just release what we decided on and let it take its course and be happy."

"And she is okay with that?" Ben did not sound convinced.

"According to her cousin, who she actually told about me; that one shocked me; she started crying one day that she had pushed me away and made me feel like she was ashamed of me and when talking to her about it, she said it too."

"So she is doing this to please you?"

"No, we are not going All-Access, we are just going to live our lives and let the, as she called it 'kerfuffle' happen, then continue on as they realise there is nothing to see here."

"Good plan." Ben agreed. "So, 'yet'?"

"Yes, yet."

"But you would?"

"In the future, if it happens. She is after getting the most incredible offer at work at the moment and flew through the exams she sat, so she's too busy for anything like that."

"Good, I am glad she's doing well. How will that affect you guys though?"

"She has to go the US every so often, but other than that, she will be working on sets and at home as much or as little as she likes. She asked for my schedule for the year and she is going to see where she can fit what suits her around that and I will add it to mine so that we can plan an actual holiday later in the year. She has an interview in the US while I am on the press tour, that would see her in the US for some of the summer, I have Ragnarok at Comicon and of course other things on." He smiled.

"But she is not saying no because of you?" Ben broached.

"Jesus no, she has declined a few that didn't suit her. The interview for the one in the US is something she really wants, so she is going for that above everything else first, including smaller projects that would impede her availability for it."

"Does she have a chance?"

"It is a long shot, but she is hoping, I mean, when I tried out for Thor it was a long shot, look how that worked out."

"You didn't get Thor though," Ben pointed out.

"No, but it worked out in the end anyway," Tom admitted.

"So you two walked in here together?" Be asked, "If that gets out…"

Tom chuckled, "That would be funny, they would all be waiting for a bump that isn't happening."

"Yet." Ben corrected. The men walked back to the room and stepped inside. Inside the room, Danielle was holding Hal in her arms, talking calmly to him as she moved around. "Suits her," Ben stated from the side of his mouth to Tom, who stood silently beside him.

"She fled." Danielle joked.

"I dare say she did." Ben heard the sink inside the bathroom attached to the room running. "You're good with small babies."

"Had to be with work."

"Did you deliver any?"

"No, I just arrived at a car where one had already been born and we had to take her and mummy to the hospital, Sarah they naked her, a good eight and a half pounder too. They didn't think her contractions were contractions until the baby started crowning, she was told they were crippling and hers apparently only hurt a bit."

"Lucky cow." Sophie groaned as she gingerly made her way back to the bed, Ben rushing over to help her as she did. As soon as she was settled in it, she looked to Danielle, who gave her back her son. "What did your mum say?"

"Kit finished his dinner, he is washed and in his pyjama's so they will bring him in to say goodnight to his brother and I will bring him home then." Ben recited.

"Good."

"If you rather we left you get ready?" Tom offered. "I know it is very soon for visitors, but considering…"

"No, we are delighted you could come and that you took time this evening." Ben hugged his friend close. "Thank you," he leant over to Danielle too. "We will no doubt see you both very soon. Tom told me about your interview in the US, if we don’t see you before then, good luck." he smiled. "And congrats on the exams."

"Thanks," Danielle gave a small awkward smile. "We'll see how it goes."

"Only way to do it, we all had a few auditions were we prayed and hoped."

"Worked out in the end for ye." She grinned back.

"I suppose."

"So you'll be off to film soon?"

"Can't tell you that," Ben winked, knowing well that Tom had informed her of his dates for Infinity War, "But I will be in the US for most of the early summer."

"I know nothing." she smiled with her hands in the air. Danielle and Tom turned to leave only to come face to face with Ben's parents and Kit. On seeing Danielle, Kit gave a huge smile. "Hey handsome man, are you all excited to be a big brother?" In her talking to the toddler, she accidentally blanked Ben's parents, his mother bringing the toddler closer for her to talk to, only then did she realise they were there. "Hi," she blushed.

"Mum, dad, you remember Tom from the wedding; this is Danielle, his girlfriend." Ben introduced everyone.

"Hello." the kind smile on Wanda Cumberbatch's face made Danielle feel less foolish, yet still awkward.

"Show Kit what Elle got him." Sophie ordered Ben from the hospital bed as Christopher realised his mother was in the room and demanded via wriggling violently to get over to her. Wanda placed him on the bed with her as Ben took Hal and placed him in his hospital cot for a moment before bringing over the bag. "Stay a second." Sophie requested. "Just see his face."

Tom and Danielle did as requested. As soon as Christopher saw the stuffed toy and outfit she had gotten him, he bounced up and down in joy. "Where did you get these?" Ben half demanded.

"Galway, when I was home. I found them in a small shop, I couldn't resist, Sophie said it was his favourite." She smiled, delighted at the huge hug the toddler gave it.

"It is impossible to get, I checked online even, just cheap knock offs everywhere, everyone wants Peter Rabbit," Sophie explained.

"Well, now he has it."

"Say ta-ta Kit." Ben urged. Christopher just looked at Danielle and showed the toy.

"Yes, do you like him?" Danielle's face was full of expression as she spoke to the toddler.

"Ya." was all he declared before going back to playing with the rabbit.

"I think it is safe to say that it's a hit." Sophie smiled. "Thank you, for all the presents."

"Yeah, don't leave me alone when I see kids stuff, I tend to get a bit excited." she stated in her defence. "Anyway, we'll let you have some family time. Bye-bye gorgeous man." she waved at Kit who looked at her gleefully, Benjamin Bunny's ear already allocated as the grabbing spot.

"Goodbye and congratulations again to you all," Tom added as they headed to the door, his hand at the base of Danielle's back. "Mr and Mrs Cumberbatch." he gave a slight nod of his head to Ben's parents too as they went.

"Safe journey Tom, see you when you get back." Ben bode as they left. "Well now, not many do as well as you do when they become a big brother, do they?" he grinned at his older son. Christopher smiled at him and babbled mostly, the stuffed toy still in hand. "That is going to be a favourite, isn't it?" He added, looking at the toy.

"Is it a good idea to have that as it if it is likely to be difficult to replace?" His father asked.

"No," Sophie pointed to the bag, "Elle bought a second one, in case of emergencies, and apparently that shop does them all the time, so if we lose two, her cousin can post one on."

"Practical woman," Timothy commended. "Who is she? I do not recognise her from anywhere."

"She's from Ireland, lived next to Tom's mum, works on set now, Tom has been seeing her for what, five or six months now?" Ben looked to his wife for confirmation.

"I like her, she seems genuine," Wanda declared. "Very good of her to think of Christopher too. Children are a great judge of character, so him trusting her is a big thing."

* "It was nice to see the baby before I left." Tom smiled as they parted in the driveway again. "Will you be able to get your car out while I am gone?"

"Yes, I am not that spatially challenged, thank you." Danielle scoffed as they got out. "And yes it was." she turned to look at him. "You told Ben about the exams and interview?"

Tom paused, "Should I not have?" He asked in concern.

"No, it's not that, it's just…why?"

"Why tell him?" Danielle nodded. "We were talking about how you were getting on, he asked about your wrist and whether or not you were training and working again and we got talking from there about it. I'm sorry if that was being too…"

"Stop, I am just asking." she smiled. "I just didn't think it'd matter what I'm doing."

Tom frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you and Ben have so much going on and such interesting lives, I have no idea why you would discuss me."

"Ben is one of my closest friends and you are my girlfriend, it makes perfect sense to me. Do you talk about me with Nacelle?"

"Obviously."

"This is the same," Tom wrapped his arm around her, "He asked how you are doing, I sort of went on a bragging streak, since you work so hard and deserve to be acknowledged."

"Just promise you will not do that with people who don't realise you're a complete and utter twat." she joked. "I am so glad Kit loved his present."

"It was perfect and so personal of you, I am sure he loved it."

"Tom, he is two, personal is not something he considers."

"No, but he cares."

"They have the cutest kids, honestly."

"Wait and see, ours will be cuter, when the day comes."

"For now, practise." Danielle grinned mischievously as they went in the front door. "Though with an early start and no condoms left, no more practising until you get back," Tom growled in frustration at that.

#I Hate You I Love You #chapter 92 #tom hiddleston #Tom hiddleston fic #wolfpawn

[justauthoring]

No Reason To (19/50)

Prompt: “And I guess… when it comes down to it, I trust you.”

It has come to my attention that by adding links to my posts, it stops that post from being seen in the tags tagged. So, sadly, I will no longer be able to link previous parts of NRT on new chapters. BUT all part can be found easily on my “No Reason To Series MasterList!” found in my bio.

A/N: SURPRISE!! I couldn’t wait for tomorrow, so I decided to just upload today as a little thank you for being patient with me and supportive!!

And we’re BACK!!! Thank you for being patient with me last week and allowing me to have a week off! I can’t promise it won’t ever happen again, but it’s nice to know that you all are supportive and patient enough to let me catch up on some much needed rest!

AND WE ARE FINALLY ON 3B~!! MEANING... VOID STILES!!

Yes, I am very excited for Void Stiles, lol. I have a lot planned and I just can’t wait to get started. Plus, this is the half of the season where Y/N and Stiles are really gonna grow close and discover their feelings for one another. So, look forward to that ;)

Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. As usual, I hope you all enjoyed!

AGAIN, remember if you’d like me to continue this series, just leave a little comment or an ask letting me know. I will NOT continue the series if no one wants me to.

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost my work. please ask first - but even then I might say no.

Pairing: Stiles x McCall!Reader

Based off of: Teen Wolf 03x13 and 03x14

“Witches are human beings who are endowed with the magical arts of sorcery, but those who view it as a religion are Wiccans. Witchcraft, in historical, anthropological, religious and mythological contexts, is the alleged use of supernatural or magical powers. Historically, it was believed in early modern Christian Europe that witches were in league with the Devil and used their powers to harm people and property. Particularly since the mid-20th century, "bad" and "good" witchcraft are sometimes distinguished, the latter often with healing.”

Biting on your bottom lip, you let the tip of your finger hover across the words you whisper aloud. Every word you reach, you take to heart. It’s about time you learned more about what you were and how you could use your powers to advantage. Not to mention, you needed to learn how to use your powers better, so you had full control over them.

Given the life you lead, there was no telling what was going to come next and you needed to prepared for anything that came your way.

Jennifer had told you that there was so little you knew about your powers, and you were determined to find out more.

Flipping through a couple of pages, your attention is caught by a particular picture. It’s the picture of hand, resting upon another, and within the drawing, red mist almost seems to be floating around. As you lower your eyes, you begin to read the small passage underneath.

“Witches have the power to feel the emotions of those they have a emotional tether to. When a witch has bonded with another, supernatural or not, emotionally, physically or mentally, they can gather enough power to feel the emotions of that said person. It only works with some though, and a lot of the time, it is because of a deeper understand-”

You’re interrupted by the sound of your door opening. Lips parting, your head snaps upwards, groaning internally when you meet the eyes of your father. Almost instantly, you shut the book you’d been reading, hiding it within viewing of your father as you push yourself off your bed and onto your feet. 

“You know you’re not allowed in my room, dad,” the words roll off your tongue with distaste and you scarcely avoid his gaze as you begin shoving your textbooks and notebooks into your bag. Once they’re all settled, you throw your bag over your shoulder and move to walk out the door, only for your father’s frame to block your way. Huffing, you take a step back, glaring up at him.

“I wanted to know if you’d like me to drive you to school today,” your father offers, a hesitant smile falling on his lips.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you raise your brow up at your father. “You offer Scott?”

“Yes,” Rafe nods, before pausing; “he declined.”

“Well, sorry to say pops, but i’m gonna have to decline as well.” You offer a mock pat on his shoulder before squeezing yourself past him, shutting your door behind you.

You don’t pay any mind to your father as you head down the hallway, ignoring his burning gaze on your back.

 As you turn to head down the steps, a sudden thud echoes, pulling your attention in the direction of your brother’s room. You end up arriving there just as Melissa does, and coming to a stop beside her, your eyes widen at the sight of Isaac on the floor, your mothers painting on the ground next to him.

“Hey!” Melissa calls, pulling Isaac’s eyes on the two of you. “You two supernatural teenage boys. Don’t test my entirely un-supernatural level of patience.” She signals Isaac to pick up the painting with her hands before turning, along with you, back down the hallway.

“Must’ve been about Allison,” you comment after a moment, shrugging your shoulders as you and Melissa head down the stairs. It’s the only thing that made sense. And it wasn’t like you were unaware of what was happening between your friend and ex-boyfriend. It might not bother you all that much, but you knew Scott still held some feelings for Allison, despite everything. “I’m pretty sure Isaac and her are dating, or, they really like each other.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Melissa questions, pulling your eyes on her as she raises a suspicious brow. “Your ex dating one of your best friends?”

Shrugging your shoulders once again, you nod; “Isaac and I agreed that we were better as friends. Besides, he can date whoever he wants to.” Though the words slipped past your lips with ease, you couldn’t help the bit of discomfort that flooded you. You were happy for Allison and Isaac, truly, and you held no ill feelings towards them.

But you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you a little uncomfortable... and slightly jealous. Part of you still cared for Isaac, maybe even loved him, even if he’d been right that day when saying your heart belonged to another. It did, but that didn’t mean the moments you shared with Isaac no longer mattered to you.

Seeing him share those moments with another, well, you can’t help but feel a little jealous.

-

“Well, well, look who’s no longer the crazy one.”

Rolling your eyes at Lydia’s words, you fall in step with her and the rest, glancing back at Allison over your shoulder as she speaks up. “We are not crazy,” she denies, which therefore causes Lydia to pause, spinning around to face the four of you, though it’s clear her words are directed towards Scott, Stiles and Allison. So, everyone but you.

“Hallucinating? Sleep paralysis?” She questions, “yeah, you guys are fine.”

After a moment of silence, Scott speaks up; “well, we did die and come back to life,” he reminds, and his words cause a frown to fall on your lips. What him, Stiles and Allison had done was to save your parents, sure, but it was also to save you. Scott had literally died to find out where you were, and part of you feels responsible for the things that was happening to them now. “That’s gotta have some side effects, right?”

The second Scott finishes speaking, the school bell rings.

“We keep an eye on each other, alright?” Stiles speaks up, nodding his head slightly. As his eyes fall on you, you nod up at him, sending him a reassuring smile as you step forward with him, heading to class. The other three hang back a moment, you and Stiles shoulder to shoulder as you walk down the hallway.

Though, just before the two of you walk off, Stiles mumbles to Lydia; “and Lydia, stop enjoying this so much.”

“What?”

-

“Morning everyone.”

Flickering your gaze upwards, you set your attention on the new face of a teacher stood before you, sitting up slightly in your seat.

“My name is Mr. Yukimura,” he continues, walking around his desk to stand before the rows of desks. “I’ll be taking over for your previous History Teacher. My family and I moved here three weeks ago. I’m sure, by now, you all know my daughter, Kira. Or you might not since she’s never actually mentioned anyone from school. Or brought a friend home for that matter.”

A loud sigh, followed by a thud, echoes in response to Mr. Yukimura’s speech. Your, along with almost everyone else in that classroom, attention is turned behind yourself, towards the left back corner of the room where you find a girl with long black hair with her head in her arms. 

“Either way, there she is.”

As all eyes fall on her, she hesitantly raises her head, offering a short wave in response. Your lips curve into a soft smile in response, your first thought being how kind the girl looked. Though, you notice how her eyes seem to fall stuck on a figure before her, and as your own eyes follow her line of direction, a smirk falls on your lips when you realize it’s Scott.

And if your brother’s facial reaction is anything to go by, you’d say he’s just as star-struck.

“Now, let’s begin with American History at the turn of the 20th century.”

Pulling out your notebook, you flip it open to an empty page, taking out a pencil and copying out the notes Mr. Yukimura begins to jot down across the chalkboard.

Though, your attention is stolen when you feel an unsettled feeling flood your entire being. It causes you to freeze, and the first thought that pops into your mind is Scott.

Turning your head around your shoulder, your eyes fall on Scott who’s staring down at the ground as if the floor is about to jump out and attack him. Briefly glancing back at the front of the class, you lean forward, lowering your voice to a whisper; “hey, Scott,” you call, pulling his eyes on you. He blinks a few times, as if settling on the sight of you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he replies, voice hoarse. “Yeah, fine.”

You nod, reluctantly, turning back to the front, but the both of you know he’s not.

-

“I’ll catch up with you guys in a second.”

Stiles and Scott nod your way, turning to the right as you halt by the classroom door. You turn your head over your shoulder, watching as Kira finishes packing up her things before swinging her bag over her shoulder. She waves to her dad along the way, who in response holds up a finger, telling her to wait a moment.

You take that as your chance.

“Hey, Kira?”

She blinks at the sound of your voice, her head turning to the left with wide eyes. When her own settle on yours, you smile brightly, offering her a wave in a signal to come forward. She does so, and you meet her in the middle, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. She seemed a little nervous, and in all truth, you were as well, but you pushed it down, grinning brightly in attempt to reassure her. “So, I couldn’t help but over hear what your dad was saying...”

Kira’s cheeks burn at your words, and she lowers her gaze, sighing. “Yeah, i’m sorry about that-”

“No, no,” you shake your head, smiling at her. “I just wanted to ask if you’d like to hang some time? It could be just me or you, or I could introduce you to my friends? I imagine it can be hard being the new girl, so I just want to make sure you feel welcomed.”

The burn in her cheek quickly disappears as your words register within her. A small smile fall on Kira’s lips, she stares up at you in almost awe; “i’d love to!” She exclaims, before seemingly catching herself, “um, yeah, that’s so nice of you... Thank you.”

Nodding your head, you rip off a piece of paper from your notebook, quickly jotting down your number. “Of course,” you comply, “here’s my number. I’ll text you some time soon, okay? We can meet up?”

Taking the piece of paper out of your hands, Kira nods, biting her lip; “sounds great. Thank you once again.”

“No need to thank me,” you assure with a shrug of your shoulders. Then, taking a step back, you glance down the way Scott and Stiles had gone, catching sight of the two watching and waiting for you. Shaking your head, you turn back to Kira; “I got meet up with my brother, but i’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

Kira nods again; “okay.”

-

“Maybe we need a little more time to get back to normal.”

“Yeah, try not to forget we hit the reset button on a supernatural beacon for supernatural creatures. There’s a pretty good chance things are never going back to normal.”

Letting out a sigh at Stiles words, you cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the locker to Stiles’s right as you stare up at the ceiling. As much as you hate to admit it, Stiles is right -- what they did to save you and your parents, it isn’t just going to go away with a snap of your fingers. You wish it could, but, you knew it wouldn’t. Not realistically.

“I hate to admit it,” you speak up, letting your head lull to the left as you meet your brother’s gaze, past Stiles. “But he’s right.”

With a sigh of his own, Scott nods as his shoulders fall; “yeah.”

As silence falls over the three of you, your attention is stolen by Stiles who, abnormally, tugs the lock connected to his locker repeatedly. His attention is solely focused on the lock, so he doesn’t notice your gaze as he continues to shake it, before halting, blinking, almost in confusion. 

“What?” Stiles mumbles to himself, causing your brows to furrow in bafflement.

“Hey,” you call, softly, noticing your brother distracted as you meet Stiles’ eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Stiles only shake his head, lips parting; “I can’t...”

Then, he blinks once more, and it’s like everything seems to suddenly makes sense to him. He lets out a sigh of relief, tensed shoulders slumping as his eyes remained trained on his lock.

Setting your hand on his shoulder, you pull Stiles’ gaze on you; “you okay?”

“Yeah,” he nods, turning his head as his eyes flicker over to your brother. “Yeah, i’m--oh, dude, your eyes.”

Glancing up, you see what’s caught Stiles attention, your eyes widening themselves when you see the red glow of Scott’s eyes. His alpha eyes. Instantly, your body tenses as you shuffle forward, behind Stiles, shaking your head.

“Scott!”

Brows furrowed, Scott mumbles; “what about them?”

As you glance over your shoulder, looking for anyone that might’ve seen Scott’s eyes, Stiles speaks up; “they’re starting to glow,” he explains, voice pitched with panic.

“You mean like right now?”

“Yes,” you urge, shaking your head. “Right now.”

“Scott,” Stiles calls, doing his best to keep his voice quiet; “stop. Scott, stop it.”

Scott lowers his head, his hand raising to cover his eyes as his breath starts to quicken. “I can’t,” he breathes, voice hushed. “I can’t stop. I can’t control it.”

Meeting Stiles’ eyes, there’s a moment of stilled panic as the two of you try to figure out what the hell to do. Then, you glance behind yourself, Stiles seemingly catching onto what you’re suggesting and he turns back to your brother, pressing a hand against the back of his head to keep his head lowered. “Okay,” Stiles whispers, following your lead as he shuffles backwards. “Okay, just keep your head down.”

“Here,” you call, gesturing to an empty classroom you’d found. Somewhere along the way, you come upon the realization that your guys attempt to not make a scene has only made a bigger scene, so, grabbing the door knob, you practically yank it open, antsy on your feet as you urge Scott and Stiles to hurry up. “In here, in here!”

You slam the door shut behind them, instantly turning around to your brother as he stumbles into room, yanking off his flannel hastily as ragged breaths escape his lips.

Stiles falls in line next to you, and the both of you step forward, intent on helping Scott before he turns around, holding up his hand. “No, get back, get back,” he bellows, his voice raspy. “Get back away from me.”

“Scott,” Stiles calls, “it’s okay.”

“We just want to help,” you add, taking a small step forward.

You don’t make it very far before Scott spins to face you once again, and his frightened eyes meet your own. “I don’t know what’s going to happen,” he cries, practically pleading with the both of you. “Get back.”

You listen, against your better judgement, standing there, at a lost on what to do.

Scott finally stops stumbling forward, turning to face you and Stiles as he slowly raises his hands. Your eyes widen when you notice him clenching his fists, his elongated nails digging into the palm of his hands. The moment you notice blood pouring out, your own hands raise, covering your mouth in disbelief. You feel the slight tingle in your own palms, before it grows progressively worse, causing you to hiss out in pain.

“Jesus... fuck!” You hiss, just as Scott falls to his knees, his clenched fists easing.

“Y/N, are you okay?’

Blinking, you meet Stiles’ gaze, only then realizing how your own position had changed as you cradled your hands against yourself. Nodding quickly, you dismiss Scott’s concern; “it’s just this... thing we have. I’m fine.”

Your attention, along with Stiles’, falls back on Scott as he slumps against one of the desks. Taking hesitant steps forward, you and Stiles crouch before him, and your wide eyes fall on the blood coating Scott’s hands, forgetting about the tingle in your own hands as Scott pants breathlessly before you.

“Pain makes you human,” he explains, chest rising and falling as his eyes fall on you. “I’m sorry.”

Looking down at your hands, you shake your head; “it’s fine, Scott-”

“Scott,” Stiles cuts in, “this isn’t just in our heads. This is real. And it’s starting to get bad for me too.” Your face falls at Stiles’s words, curling into yourself. “I’m not just having nightmares. I’m having dreams where I have to literally scream myself awake. And sometimes i’m not even sure if i’m actually ever waking up.”

“What do you mean?” You ask softly, causing Stiles to turn his gaze on you.

“Do you know how you can tell if you’re dreaming? You can’t read in dreams. More and more, in the past few days, i’ve been having trouble dreaming. It’s like I can’t see the words. I can’t put the letters in order.”

“Like even now?”

Stiles stands up, slowly, his legs shaky underneath him. Your eyes follow his movements as he glances around the room, his eyes falling on the posters and boards located in the classroom. Then, with a shaky breath, Stiles shakes his head.

“I can’t read a thing.”

-

“Witches have the power to feel the emotions of those they have a emotional tether to. When a witch has bonded with another, supernatural or not, emotionally, physically or mentally, they can gather enough power to feel the emotions of that said person. It only works with some though, and a lot of the time, it is because of a deeper understanding. It can be in a romantic sense, or someone you share a close connection to, like a parent or sibling.”

Sibling. If that was true then...

Inhaling sharply, you steal your nerves as you raise your hand, knocking lightly on Scott’s door. As you wait for a reply, you glance back down the hallway, the way you came, making sure no one’s coming. Not Isaac, Melissa or Rafael. You need to talk to Scott, alone.

Because right now, he’s the only you trust not to laugh in your face or think you’re crazy. And, you’re almost a hundred percent sure this’ll work with him.

“Come in!”

Placing your hand flat against Scott’s bedroom door, you lightly push it open, peeking your head in. You find Scott at his desk, spinning slightly in his chair to face you. His face lightens up at the sight of you. “Y/N,” he greets, pushing himself up to his feet. “What’s up?”

You offer a short smile, stepping into his room before quietly shutting the door behind yourself. Scott watches your movements in confusion, raising a brow when you turn back to look up at him. Once again, you steal away your nerves, clasping your hands before yourself as you rock on your feet slightly. “I need you to do something for me.”

Scott, not oblivious to how nervous you seem, instantly nods. “Anything.”

Taking a step towards Scott, you inhale sharply. “This is going to sound crazy,” you warn, finally meeting his eyes. “But, you know how when you touch someone, you can take their pain away? Like, just by grabbing onto to them, and making contact, suddenly you’re able to have this sort of connection with them?” Scott nods. “Well, I think I might be able to do something like that. But it only works with certain people.”

“Okay...” Scott says slowly.

“Give me your hand.” After only a moment of silence, Scott obliges, holding out his hand towards you. You stare down at it, taking a deep breath before slowly raising your hand and setting it into his own. Instantly, you gasp, your body flinching in response as your eyes fall shut.

For a moment, Scott seems to drift to the back of your mind as you become overwhelmed by a flood of emotions.

Then, what feels like a second later, but must’ve been longer, your eyes snap open, and you heave heavily, stumbling forward. Scott catches you, staring down at you in concern as he holds you upright, helping you stay steady. Your breath had quickened, your chest rising and falling, and your skin feels clammy.

It was exactly like that night in the motel. With Isaac.

“It worked,” you breathe, voice barely above a whisper.

Shaking his head, Scott pulls your eyes on his own. “What worked? Y/N, it looked like you blacked out. I-”

“You’re worried. And scared. Scared of what’s happening to you, Stiles and Allison. You’re worried about dad being back, and you’re worried about me and mom. And there’s a tiny part of you that’s jealous of Isaac and Allison, but that girl... Kira! She overrides some of that jealousy. She hasn’t left your thoughts all day.”

Scott doesn’t say anything at first. At first, there’s just silence as he blinks up at you.

Then, letting out a shaky breath, Scott shakes his head; “how do you know all of that?”

“I read in this... book, that witches can feel the emotions of others. Of people they’re strongly connected to,” you explain in a haste, your lips working a bit faster then your mind is. “It worked with Isaac, back at that motel. At the time, I didn’t know what it was... but I touched his shoulder, and I felt this overwhelming flood of pain and agony... Scott, everything you’re feeling, I felt.”

“Like our pain?”

“Yes,” you nod, “but different. This wasn’t just pain. This was true emotion -- as if I was experiencing it.”

Scott nods, slowly. It’s not that he doesn’t believe you, because he does. It’s just a lot to take in.

“So, because we’re siblings--”

“It worked,” you finished, nodding.

Scott nods once more, at a lost on what to say.

“I’ve got to go read up some more,” you say in a haste, taking a step back from Scott with a wide smile plastered on your lips. You don’t really give Scott time to argue or say anything in return before you’re out the door. But, just before you make it very far, you peek your head in once more into his room.

“Oh! And that girl, Kira? She was checking you out too!”

-

“Okay, so what happens to a person who has a near-death experience and comes out of it seeing things?”

“And is unable to tell what’s real or not?”

“And is being haunted by demonic visions of dead relatives?”

Biting your lip, you let out a sigh as Allison finishes off the list of shitty things that have happened to her, Stiles and Scott. You don’t have a clue on how to answer their question.

“They’re all locked up because they’re insane,” Isaac answers, letting out a huff.

“Ha.” Stiles mocks, letting out a fake laugh as he shakes his head. “Can you at least try to be helpful, please?”

“For half my childhood, I was locked in a freezer.” Isaac begins, turning to Stiles with narrowed eyes. You raise a brow at their argument, leaning onto the bench in your spot next to Stiles. “So, being helpful is king of a new thing for me.”

“Hey, dude, are you still milking that?”

“Yeah, we are still milking that.”

“Okay,” you roll your eyes, setting your hand on Stiles arm as you send a glare Isaac’s way. “Enough. The both of you.” At the look the Isaac gives you, as if he expects you to back him up, you huff; “we are actually trying to figure out how to help them-”

“Hi!” A sudden voice interrupts you, pulling your focus on the right of you on Kira. She smiles down at the six of you nervously, clutching her books against her chest tightly. “Sorry. I couldn’t help overhearing what you guys were talking about.”

Glancing back at your friends, you raise a brow.

“And I think I actually might know what you’re talking about,” Kira continues, pulling your eyes back on her. “There’s a Tibetan word for it. It’s called ‘Bardo’. It literally means ‘in-between state’. The state between life and death.”

“And what do they call you?” Lydia questions, sending Kira a forced smile.

You open your mouth to answer Lydia before: “Kira,” Scott answers for you, his voice soft. You can’t help but smile to yourself slightly as you glance down at your notebook, biting your lip. “She’s in our history class.”

“Here,” you speak up, pushing Stiles slightly to make room for Kira. “Sit,” you send her a bright smile as her eyes fall on you. She hesitates a moment before taking a seat just as Lydia speaks up once again.

“So are you talking Bardo in Tibetan Buddhism or Indian?”

“Either, I guess,” Kira shrugs. “But all the stuff you guys were just saying? All that happens in Bardo. There are different progressive states where you can have hallucinations. Some you see, some you just hear. And you can be visited by peaceful and wrathful deities.”

“Wrathful deities?” Isaac repeats questioningly, “and-and what are those?”

Shaking her head slightly, Kira shrugs; “like demons.”

“Demons,” Stiles repeats, disbelief at his situation flooding him. “Why not?”

“Hold on,” Allison speaks up, “if there are different progressive states, then what’s the last one?”

“Death,” Kira answers, a little too cheery. “You die.”

-

“That doesn’t make any sense, dad! Who are you helping?”

Brows furrowed, you hastily make your way down the stairs, rubbing at your eyes tiredly. You’d been catching up on some homework, headphones in your ears so you hadn’t heard Scott nor your dad. It took having to go to the washroom for you to finally realize what the hell was going on and almost immediately you made your way for the stairs.

“Just get out!”

As you reach the living room, you notice Melissa making her way inside from the other side, your eyes briefly meeting hers before refocusing on the two males in front of you.

“Scott,” you father calls, voice hesitant, unsure. 

“What?” Scott snaps in response, shaking his head. “I can’t believe that you’d do this to my best friend.”

Stiles?

“I’m not doing anything to your friend,” Rafe tries to explain, “i’m doing my job.”

“Your job sucks!”

“Some days I can’t argue that.”

“Can somebody tell me what the hell is going on?” Melissa speaks up, eyes wide.

Taking a step forward, you nod, your eyes trained on Scott. “What’s he doing to Stiles?”

“He’s trying to get Stiles’ dad fired.”

At Scott’s words, your entire body freezes, disbelief flooding you.

“No,” your father argues, turning from you to Melissa in seconds. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“What are you doing?”

Rafael pauses, then; “conducting a case for impeachment.”

Raising your hand, you rub them against your face, trying to keep your steadily racing heartbeat calm as Scott’s words echo in your head.

“That sounds a lot like getting him fired,” Melissa snaps. 

“The lack of resolution and ability to close cases is what’s going to get him fired. My job is just to collect the information.” As Rafe continues to explain, try to defend himself, you’re oblivious to Scott, who’s getting angrier and angrier by the second. Mainly because you’re getting angrier and angrier by the second. “And it’s the job my superiors have given me.”

“Your job sucks,” Melissa repeats, glaring up at your father.

“Scott,” you hear Melissa call, finally causing you to raise your head. It’s then that you notice Scott’s eyes glowing once more and his nails have grown, not to mention that he’s struggling to breathe. “Sweetheart,” Melissa continues, “calm down.” She takes Scott’s hand in her own, leading him away. “Come with me, right now.”

She meets your eyes briefly, and you nod, stepping in front of your father before he can follow after the two of them.

“Y/N-”

You scoff as Rafael attempts to explain himself to you as well, shaking your head as you glare up at him. “I don’t wanna hear it,” you snap, your lip snarling up in disgust up at him. “I don’t care if it’s your job, if your superiors are making you do it, or whatever. I don’t care. This is Stiles’ dad we’re talking about.”

Rafael just remains silent, and you roll your eyes, clenching your fists tightly, in attempt not to punch him.

“You disgust me.”

-

“Here’s where we found the den. It’s right in the middle of the hiking trails.”

Leaning over Stiles’ shoulders, your eyes fall on the spot he’s pointing at with his finger, lip in-between your teeth in thought.

“Well,” Allison speaks up, pulling your gaze on her as she raises her own to meet yours. “That could narrow it down. Coyotes travel on fixed trails. But I think you’re right about her not going back to the den. Coyotes don’t like wolves. And they’re really smart if they want to be heard, they actually walk on their toes.”

Brows furrowing, you pause as Stiles questions exactly what you’d been thinking. “Coyotes tip-toe?”

“They tip-toe.”

Just as Allison finishes speaking, the bell rings.

“We gotta go,” she continues, shuffling back. “Send me the pinned location.” She pauses though when she realizes you’ve yet to follow her. Pausing right by the door, she turns to you; “Y/N?”

Blinking, you nod over at her, “coming,” you smile softly, leaving Stiles’ side as you quickly make your way over to Allison. Though, your eyes linger on Stiles’ a moment more than usual, his own remaining stuck on you, before you eventually have to turn, falling next to Allison’s side as you walk down the hallway, heading to your next class.

It only takes you a second to realize Allison’s eyes are still on you, and she’s smirking.

“What?” You question, raising a brow her way.

“Nothing,” she shrugs, hugging her textbooks close against her chest, the smirk slowly fading as silence falls over the two of you. “Hey, Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask...”

Slowly, your full focus falls on your friends when you notice her obvious anxiousness. Glancing at her briefly as you both weave your way through the hallway, you patiently wait for her to continue.

Brushing back a strand of loose hair, Allison laughs nervously. “Well, Isaac and I have recently gotten closer and I know that you two used to date, so... I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t overstepping any boundaries. Or making you uncomfortable in anyway.”

Blinking, you pause; “are you asking me for permission to date Isaac?”

“Well... yeah.”

Shaking your head, you smile over at Allison. “You don’t need to ask for permission, Allison,” you assure, letting your hand fall on her arm. “Go for it,”

“You don’t mind?” She questions, almost unsure.

“Not at all,” you nod, “I promise.”

A wide smile falls on Allison’s lips at your words, and a small exclamation of glee leaves her lips as you laugh up at her excitement. “Thank you!” She exclaims, leaning to the side to give you a hug.

You easily return her embrace.

“Of course.”

-

“What you did was really sweet.”

Scott blinks up at you at your words. Smiling down at him, you take a seat next to him on the bench he’s perched upon, bumping his shoulder lightly with your own. “Saving her like that,” you continue for explanation, smirking slightly. “Girls love that hero crap.”

Scott rolls his eyes at your teasing, scoffing at your words. “It was the least I could do,” Scott shrugs, “she was returning our bags.”

Your eyes fall on the bags Scott gestures to, slowly nodding.

Before you can say anything more, Stiles comes to a stop between the two of you, calling out for your attention. “I think I know what she was looking for,” Stiles explains, holding his back, referring back to Malia. Standing up, along with Scott, your eyes falls the doll Stiles pulls out of his bag.

Scott sighs; “you took the doll from the car?”

“Why would you take a piece of evidence from the crime scene?” You pester Stiles, keeping your voice lowered as you slap him lightly on the shoulder. He winces in response, curling into himself as he pouts at you getting mad at him, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Hey!” Stiles calls out in defense, “I thought Scott could use it, you know, for like her scent.”

“Where did you get that?” You blink at the new voice, turning your head around your shoulder as a man steps forward. You briefly remember Noah introducing him as Malia’s dad. “Where did you find this?” Hastily, he pulls the doll out of Stiles’ hand, causing the three of you to take a step back in precaution as his narrowed eyes glower down at the three of you.

Staring down at the doll, his anger fades into sadness; “it belonged to my daughter.”

Just then, Noah steps forward; “Mr. Tate, I don’t know how you heard about this. If you got your own police scanner or what... But you can’t be here.” Noah steps forward, setting his hand on Mr. Tate’s stomach in attempt to push him back before the two of them freeze. Your brows furrow in bafflement, crossing your arms over your chest as you wait.

Slowly, Noah pulls back Mr. Tate’s jacket, revealing a gun.

“I have a permit,” Mr. Tate quickly explains, holding up his hands on either side of him.

“California schools are gun free zones,” Noah reminds, “permit or no permit. You need to leave, Mr. Tate. Now.”

Noah steps forward, causing Mr. Tate to shuffle back as he calls another policemen forward. Before they can pull Mr. Tate away, he turns back to Noah, his face twisting in desperation. “You find that animal. You find that thing.”

-

“Anyone else think we might be doing more harm than good?”

Sighing, you briefly glance at Stiles who’s beside you at Lydia’s words, before letting your gaze fall on the forest floor.

“We’re trying to keep a father from killing his own daughter,” Scott eagerly reminds, his voice desperate for you all to understand.

“Actually,” Isaac speaks up, pulling your eyes on him. “We’re trying to keep a guy from killing a coyote who is actually his daughter, who we don’t know how to change from a coyote back to his daughter.”

You let your eyes fall shut at Isaac’s words, shaking your head.

“And again,” Stiles sighs, “with the not helping.”

Scott turns to Allison, “did you bring it?”

Only hesitating a moment, Allison nods, turning towards her trunk and pulling out the tranquilizer gun she’d brought. Holding it ready in her hands, she turns back to the rest of you, nodding her head.

-

“It took the doll again. What the hell is so important about the doll?”

Sighing, you bite your lip as Stiles spins to face you, phone in hand as he talks to his father. You can’t tell what Noah is saying in response to Stiles, but if the expression on Stiles’ face is anything to go by -- you figure it isn’t good.

Then, realization floods Stiles’ eyes and his chin raises, his focus falling elsewhere other than his father.

“It’s the doll.”

Blinking, you glance up at Stiles’ eyes fall on you, the phone in his hand falling limply at his side. His eyes widen, realization flooding them.

Scott, Isaac, Allison and Lydia have run off, the two of them teaming in pairs, leaving you and Stiles. You would’ve followed after your brother or even Isaac, but seeming like Stiles right now, when there was a coyote on the loose and he had nothing nor no one to defend himself, seemed like the better idea.

It seems, you’d been right.

“It’s the doll?”

-

“All right, but why would it go all the to the school and then all the way back to the house just a doll?”

Hugging yourself tightly, you pace as Stiles continues to ramble on, shrugging your shoulders helplessly at his question.

“One that was in the car wreck firstly,” Stiles continues, “we didn’t find it in the coyote den.”

“It likes the doll,” you huff, tucking your hair hastily behind your ears. “Who cares?”

“Yeah, it likes the doll. A lot,” Stiles sighs, crouched down before you. Silence echoes, then, a question pops into your mind. “What kind of doll is it?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles shrugs, voice pitched in desperation. “It’s a doll, you know. It’s got little arms, a big baby head and dead, soulless eyes. Actually, I took a pic.” Stepping forward as Stiles to turns to face you, you lean over his shoulder, squinting your eyes to see the photo clearly.

Raising your hand, you point at the young girl in a blue coat; “that’s Malia?”

“Yeah, that’s the jacket and the scarf we found in the den.”

“Stiles,” you call, shaking your head. “She’s not holding the doll.”

“That’s Malia’s younger sister,” Stiles explains, pointing at the younger girl in a red coat. “It’s her doll.” Slowly, Stiles raises his head, turning to meet your eyes. “I know what she’s doing.”

“What?”

“I know where she’s going.”

-

“Stiles?”

Feeling your entire body freeze, everything Stiles has been saying over the phone to Scott goes in through one ear and out the other as you stare down at the bear trap. The bear trap your foot is directly placed on. You don’t move a muscle, in fear of the clamps shutting around your ankle.

“Yeah-”

Slowly raising your head, your entire body shaking, you meet his eyes from a far.

Instantly, Stiles rushes forward, coming to a stop next to you. You let your eyes fall shut as Stiles calls out; “Y/N, don’t move!” You want to snark back that you weren’t planning on doing so, but you keep your mouth shut, terrified that even speaking will trigger the trap. “Can’t you... use your powers? Hold the clamps down while you move your foot?”

“No,” you breathe, shaking your head. “N-No. If I move, it’ll trigger the trap and I don’t think my reflexes are that fast.” Your voice is shaky as you try to explain yourself to the best of your ability. Forcing your eyes open, you meet Stiles’ eyes who’s lowered to the ground, now crouching before you. “Stiles, look for a warning label.”

“A warning label?” Stiles repeats questioningly. 

“Instructions on how to disarm it,” you explain, voice pleading.

“Y/N,” Stiles breathes, “why the hell would they put instructions on the bottom of a trap?”

“Because animals can’t read,” you remind, voice pitching.

Your body tenses as you try to keep as still as possible, impatiently waiting for Stiles to find the warning label you told him about. Then, a moment later, Stiles mumbles, “Y/N, we’ve got a problem.”

“What?”

“I can’t read either.”

You’d forgotten.

Inhaling sharply, you try to your best to remain calm, shaking your head. “You don’t need the instructions,” you dismiss, “when was the last time you’ve ever used instructions? Am I right?” Meeting Stiles’s eyes, you nod your head this time, smiling down at him despite the tears welling in your eyes out of fear. “You don’t need them because you’re too smart to waste your time with them, okay? You can figure it out. Stiles, you’re the one who always figures it out.. So you can do it. Figure it out.”

Listening to your advice, Stiles leans forward, brushing back some leaves. You’re too scared to lean down and see what he’s doing.

“Okay, here we go,” Stiles finally says, “ready?”

Letting out a shaky breath, you finally lower your gaze, letting out a soft whimper as you nod.

“Okay,” Stiles breaths, “here we go.”

He turns the valve, and letting out a tiny cry, you take your foot off the trigger, leaping to your left and falling into Stiles’ arms. His arms wrap tightly around your waist as yours wound around his neck, pulling him close as you let out breath of relief. 

Settling the palm of your hand on his chest, you glance back at the trap, your lips parting at the sight of the clamps shut against one another. If it hadn’t been for Stiles, or if you had taken just a moment later, it would’ve been your foot in-between those clamps.

Still breathless, you flicker your gaze over to Stiles’, meeting his eyes through your lashes. You can feel his breath fawn over your face as he returns your gaze, the two of you staring at one another in a mixture of shock, relief and disbelief. Then, before you can stop yourself, you whisper; “you did it.”

The words seem to register in Stiles’ mind, causing him to blink as he shakes his head; “I did it.”

He did it.

“Thank you.”

-

Part 20? Let me know what you thought!

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#teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf x reader #stiles #stilinski #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles imagine #stiles x reader #dylan obrien #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien x reader #nrt #no reason to #series #teen wolf series #imagine #imagines #drabble #drabbles #prompt #prompts #request #requested

[gold-from-straw]

First Forever - ch8

In Charles’ defence, he’s extremely sleep deprived and sad... luckily Raven is thinking enough for all of them. Chapter 8/10 for the @fth2019fanworks and @soveryaverageme!

Read from the start on AO3 if you prefer!

Charles pushed the huge double doors open, the hinges creaking with disuse. The sun was rising behind him, and hopefully Erik would still be asleep where he’d left him on the sofa in their… in Erik’s apartment.

The mansion smelled of dust and stale air. Charles left the door open as he walked into the foyer, his footsteps echoing on the wooden floor. He was glad places didn’t hold memories, though it seemed impossible the fear and loneliness, dissatisfaction and despair of his entire family hadn’t soaked into the porous limestone walls.

The curtains showered him in dust as he tugged them open. He walked through room after room, everything exactly as he and Raven had left it years ago. His stepfather’s office lay in ruins, still, and his feet slipped over a snowfall of paperwork and upholstery and broken wood from the desk he’d taken a crowbar to. The desk he’d bent over for whipping after whipping.

“I had a feeling you’d be here,” called Raven.

Charles looked up, his eyes wide. “Raven,” he said, smiling. “What are you doing here, darling?” He ran over and lifted his favourite pretend sibling into a tight hug. “What pronouns are you using today?”

“She,” she said, giving him a half-smile and pulling back, her hands on his shoulders. “Charles, what are you doing back here? I was hoping I’d be wrong, but when Erik called me in an absolute panic saying you’d disappeared in the middle of the night, I was pretty damn sure you’d be here. How are you so God-damn extra, Charles?”

“Erik called you?”

“Of course he did,” she sighed, folding her legs under her to sit on the wide stairs leading down to the study. “Who else are you close to?”

“I have plenty of friends, thank you very much,” he smiled, sitting next to her.

“Sure you do. Everyone loves you. But Erik knows that none of them realise there’s an angsty, self-loathing centre under all that gooey sweetness.”

“I am not--”

“Why are you here, Charles? What have you got to gain from being here instead of with a gorgeous man who adores you?”

Charles’ breath stopped, the hard lump in his throat cutting everything off. He stared down at his hands. “He shouldn’t,” he said, and his voice didn’t sound like his own. “He deserves the man he thinks I am, not… all this.”

“All what?”

He took a deep, shaky breath. “All the bullshit. All my issues and stupid anxieties, and my cowardice. My entire power is about cowardice! I’m so terrified of people that my mutation made me hear everyone’s thoughts, so they couldn’t possibly take me by surprise and hurt me--”

“Because that’s all your family ever did,” Raven said, a line forming between her brows. “Your dad ignored you, Sharon tore your self-esteem to bits, and Kurt and Cain took pleasure in seeing you hurt and scared. Your mutation gave you what you needed, just like mine gave me shapeshifting when the dysphoria got too bad.”

Charles nodded. “Yes, yes, I know, and it saved my life countless times, but now I’m just… I’m still living like I expect everyone to hurt me. I read everyone’s mind, more than is necessary or… acceptable or whatever. And then… then my powers started disappearing around Erik and it’s just - it felt wrong. I can’t talk to him without hearing his thoughts as well and it’s just not fair, Raven, it’s not-- I’ve finally found someone I love so much, and my powers are telling me I don’t get to have him and it’s not fair!”

He pressed his face into his hands, pulling at his hair in grief and fury.

“So,” said Raven, her hand stroking between his shoulder blades. “You read my mind too?”

“What? No, of course not! You asked me not to.” He glared at her, scrubbing the back of his hand across his face.

She examined her fingernails casually. “What about Angel?” she asked. “Didn’t she ask you to stay out of her head, too?”

Charles deflated. “Yes, well… but she’s different.”

“In what way is she different?”

“I don’t trust her like… oh.” Charles stared at Raven. “Do you know, I think you might be the only person in the world I actually trust?”

She smiled rather smugly. “Well, we’ll see. But could you read me now?”

“I don’t want to,” said Charles, frowning at her. “And you don’t want me to, and I’m in no danger--”

“So what you’re saying, then, is that your power trusts me? That your power’s OK with staying out of my head because you trust me? So… it’s silent because you trust me?”

Charles blinked at her and Raven rolled her eyes. “Oh, my God, Charles,” she groaned. “You’re thick when you’re sleep deprived! You trust Erik! Your powers trust him, they don’t see him as a threat, so they don’t work around him. Duh!”

She stood up, dusting her skirt off, as Charles stared at her open-mouthed. “I’ll leave you with him, then, shall I?”

The door behind them creaked, and Charles twisted to see Erik peering round, his eyes sad and wide. Charles stared at Raven, a twist of betrayal around the automatic happiness of seeing Erik.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Charles,” said Raven, flicking her hair back. “If he’d been a threat you know your powers would have warned you. And it’s only fair, you’ve known what he thinks of you for almost a year. Now he knows how you feel about him.”

She winked at Erik, kissed Charles’ cheek, and walked out, her heels tapping an echoing call on the hardwood floors.

Erik looked at Charles like he wanted to cry, and Charles turned away, hunching his shoulders. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he said to his own clasped hands.

Erik sat next to him, and Charles felt an almost physical pull to lean over, press his face to Erik’s shoulder - and to sink his thoughts into Erik’s mind, like fingers through cool beads.

“Did you think I would reject you? If you told me?” Erik asked at last, and the pain was obvious in his voice even without the hum of his emotions.

Charles winced. “I don’t know… I don’t know that I was thinking straight at all. I just…” He took a deep, shaky breath. “Your mind is so… I’m greedyfor it, Erik. It feels like something I’ve never had before and to… to have it taken away was--” He swallowed his words, dramatic and self-pitying as they were, in the face of the true loss and torture Erik had experienced.

Erik’s fingers slipped between his own, hands clasping tight when Charles jumped. He smiled up at Erik’s beautiful, compassionate eyes. “It feels like no less than I deserve,” Charles admitted, shrugging, apologising for he didn’t know what. “It’s never been fair, has it? It’s never fair with me - I can hear everything, all your thoughts and emotions, and you just have to trust me. How can I ask for that? From anyone, but most of all you.”

Erik wrapped him up in a tight hug with no warning, and Charles clung to him, eyes squeezed shut, fingers clenched in Erik’s t-shirt. “Charles,” he said, that dear voice deep and rich by his ear. “Please, please ask it of me, I can’t… I don’t know what I’d do without you. I don’t care if it’s uneven, you being able to hear my thoughts. I just want you. You’re… you’re home to me, and I’ve not had that since my parents were taken away. I want you in my mind - in my life - all the ways I can.”

Charles clutched at Erik’s body, pulling him closer, tears falling and soaking into Erik’s shirt where he pressed his face, and realised that’s what Erik’s mind had always been to him - a true home for his soul, a refuge.

And with an audible pop, Erik’s thoughts and emotions returned to him in a wave, curling around their embrace as soft as a blanket, and Charles sobbed.

Tagging everyone who interacted with the last chapter here! Thank you so much! @ketchavies-thoorrrr666, @knightsobsidian, @oopitywoopityimstupidy, @slytherclaw134689, @flourishingcactus, @shadow-wolf-03, @raqueldarkholme, @mewkawaii, @eunusc, @butterflywithwritersblock, @ikeracity, @back-to-the-pines, @remuzine, @whisperasphodel, @lyricfulloflight, @ice-cream-connie, @garnett67, @seitou, @ao-1-fe, @ximeria, @allhoneyboo, @ournextdoorneighbor, @dagnello, @operationbaseinnarnia, @mathmusicreading, @akasanata, @liebgoth, @visionarygalaxy, @givemeanythingnow, @igxvdca, @saumdeshimmels, @hxrringrovve, @demigodbookdragon, @isamai, @nyawie, @angelamcd123, @dilynh, @1tothe-6

#My writing #First Forever #cherik #Charles Xavier #Erik Lehnsherr #fandom trumps hate 2019 #modern au #still have powers #self esteem issues #trust issues #Raven Darkholme #genderfluid Raven

[prince-claremont-diaz]

Whatever We Become

Summary: In Lucas’ final year of high school before he has to face the real world, he comes across the new identical twins, Eliott and Leo. Needless to say, Lucas falls head over heels for both of them.

Or The twin au absolutely no one asked for Word Count: 2.9k

Warning(s): description of a panic attack, alcohol use Reposting it again because it wasn’t showing up in the tags Chapter Four: What kind of friend would I be? Manon and Lucas were on their way to the bus stop together, walking in comfortable silence, feet marching in sync. Lucas was clutching the straps of his bag, eyebrows furrowed as he continued to worry about the Demaury brothers.

What on earth had Leo been fighting about? Was it actually related to Eliott? Perhaps someone was messing with Eliott and Leo and Charles tried to help him. Or Eliott was hiding a secret temper. What if he was the one who punched them? At the party, he hadn’t seemed particularly strange or aggressive, but Lucas had already been pretty intoxicated when they met. Had he missed something?

“Isn’t that Leo Demaury?”

Lucas’ thought spiral was abruptly interrupted by Manon’s voice, a hand going out to keep him from walking. Lucas felt a joint crack in his haste to look up from his shoelaces, face going scarlet and jaw slack.

None other than one of the subjects of his thoughts, Leo Demaury, was in fact standing next to their bus stop. He looked undoubtedly grim, staring lasers into the concrete. His fists were clutching onto his bag’s straps, the hood of his blue hoodie pulled up to obscure half his face. But even from here, Lucas was absolutely certain who he was looking at.

As if sensing their watchful eyes, Leo looked up from his staring contest with the floor and looked straight at them. Unlike usual, his face didn’t split into a grin at the sight of his friend; his frown actually deepened and he turned away from them, crossing the street and heading straight into a liquor store.

“What the fuck?” Lucas blurted, staring across the street. He exchanged a glance with Manon, who could only offer an equally confused frown and a dismayed shake of her head. “Did he seem angry with us or am I just going crazy?”

Manon shook her head, sighing heavily. “Maybe it wasn’t targeted at you or me in particular. He could just be embarrassed about the fight,” Manon suggested. As their bus began to pull up to the station, Manon linked her arm with him and tugged him gently away from the curb. He stumbled slightly, as though he had been glued to the floor as soon as Leo looked at him like that.

Lucas dropped hopelessly into a seat by the window, leaning his head against the glass and looking longingly across the street. His eyes stung as they began to water, vision blurring. As the bus pulled away from the curb and away from Leo, Lucas had to bite down on his lip to keep from making a sound.

◇

Lucas stood by his locker with the boys, laughing at something Yann was telling them. Yann was full on acting out every single person in the situation, jumping around the corridor and almost knocking down a poor first year, much to the delight of the boys even more. Lucas rolled his eyes, leaning against the lockers and smiling fondly at his friend’s antics.

“He was an idiot, essentially,” Yann said, slightly out of breath from his pantomiming.

Lucas started to say something teasing before promptly cutting himself off when he saw none other than Leo Demaury walking right up to him, grey eyes staring intensely, jaw set. Wide eyed, Lucas looked around at his friends hopelessly before the other boy stopped right in front of him.

“Hey, Lucas, can I please talk to you?” He eyed the other boys. “Alone.”

Lucas nodded robotically, choking out, “Uh, okay. We can go out into the courtyard?” He gestured vaguely towards the front doors with his head, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth nervously.

Leo shrugged. “Yeah, okay.”

Lucas shot one last terrified look over his shoulder and followed Leo outside. It was surprisingly cold out, a bitter breeze hitting him in the face and causing him to shiver and pull his jumper closer. Lucas followed Leo swiftly across the courtyard, feeling awfully like a puppy following its owner on a walk. Finally, they stopped by a low wall near one of the other buildings and Leo clambered up, sitting with his legs dangling over the edge. Cautiously, keeping plenty of space between them, Lucas sat down beside him, chewing on his nails.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. People walked past laughing and talking or looking through phones and books, bags of varying shades and colours over their shoulders.

Lucas was the first to break the silence. “So, you wanted to talk to me?” He glanced sideways at the other boy. His bruise was starting to heal more, beginning to turn a horrid puke green around the edges and the cut on his nose had almost completely disappeared.

“Yeah,” Leo replied quietly, keeping his eyes on the ground, “I wanted to apologise for yesterday. I was still messed up about the fight and…” Leo turned to Lucas, looking at him sincerely. “I’ll admit I was a little embarrassed for you to see me like, well, this.” He gestured towards his face, sighing.

“Oh. It's–it’s okay. I get it now,” Lucas replied, nodding, “You don’t have to be embarrassed or anything, by the way. I was more… worried about you. I didn’t know what to think when I saw your face, but I’m guessing you had good reason, so.” Lucas’ cheeks burned and he forced himself to look away, running a hand through his messy locks and ruining it even more so that it stuck up in every direction.

Leo looked back at Lucas, smiling lightly at him, eyes twinkling fondly. “I swear it was for good reason, Lucas. I’m not a violent person usually. I just get a bit…protective of my brother,” Leo explained, tone serious and devoid of any lies. Lucas’ heartstrings tugged fiercely, picking up the pace of their soft thudding, pounding against his chest cavity.

The bell for next period went off again and Leo groaned, hopping off the wall. “I should get going, but I’ll see you next period, yeah?” Leo said, already making his way towards the school building, walking backwards with a smile coming back to his face.

Lucas nodded, returning the smile. “Yeah.”

◇

“You coming to the party at Alex’s tonight? I heard it’s supposed to be pretty wild,” Arthur asked Lucas during their last class of the day, Literature. They were supposed to be reading Antigone silently at their desks, but most people were taking advantage of the rather lax control from their teacher, Miss Moreau and talking quietly with their friends.

Lucas looked up from attempting to read the book, shrugging at his friend’s question. “I don’t know if I’m up for a party to be honest. This week has been hell enough,” Lucas admitted.

Arthur groaned exasperatedly, earning a few glances from those around them. He ignored them, leaning closer to whisper, “Come on, man. It’ll cheer you up. Maybe you can find another boy. A rebound, as they say.”

Lucas elbowed him sharply in the ribs, making Arthur flinch away. Miss Moreau looked over at them, telling them both to be quiet. Arthur apologised, rolling his eyes and looking back at Lucas. “Shut up, Arthur. For anyone to be a ‘rebound’ I would have to date someone first.”

Arthur shrugged, making a comedic face and picking up Antigone again. He skimmed through in search of his bookmark and whispered, “You sure I can’t convince you? I really wanna go but not if we’re not all there having a great time and getting blackout drunk. Mainly the latter.”

Lucas sighed, turning the page of his book and emphatically keeping from looking at him. “Fine. But you’re paying for me the next time we all go out.” As soon as Lucas agreed, Arthur’s whole face lit up and he punched Lucas “lovingly” on the shoulder. Lucas rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t lie that he was always happy to see his friends happy just because of something he had done.

“I promise you won’t regret a thing, Lucas dear.”

“Arthur, Lucas, I don’t want to tell you to be quiet again,” Miss Moreau chastised, frowning at them from behind her desk.

“Sorry, miss!” Arthur called. Then he mouthed to Lucas: “This is gonna be great.”

Lucas sure hoped so.

◇

Of all the things Arthur said earlier, he was certainly right about the party being wild. Only two hours in, Lucas had already seen one of Alex’s friends fall down the stairs, watched a girl vomit in some guy’s hat and seen multiple straight girls drunkenly making out with each other. The latter still confused him to this day.

Lucas was currently settled on the floor of what appeared to be an ornate dining room with a full on chandelier. He was squashed between Arthur, who was very drunk and practically half on top of Lucas, and Yann who was only slightly more sober. Basile was nowhere to be seen, having disappeared shortly into their arrival at Alex’s house. Arthur, who was nursing a fifth bottle of beer, belched in Lucas’s ear, causing the short boy to yelp and elbow him in the face.

“Fuck! Get off me, Arthur! Fuck, you’re disgusting,” Lucas gritted, pushing Arthur off of his shoulder.

Yann snorted, pointing childishly at Arthur. “Nice one, Arthur!” he said, holding his hand up for a high five. Arthur tried to hit Yann’s hand, somehow hitting Lucas in the eye with his thumb.

“Fuck! Arthur!” he whined, covering his eye with his hand and pouting.

“Oh so now you do it!” Basile, who had finally appeared from his adventure around the house looked betrayed as he watched Arthur and Yann try to high five each other. “Every time I try to get one, you guys just ignore me!”

Yann laughed, shaking his head. “That’s cause we’re usually sober, Bas. Right now we’re not,” Yann explained, snorting halfway through his own explanation.

“Yeah, we can tell,” Lucas mumbled, though everyone else ignored him.

Basile held up his two hands in the air, clearly waiting for his moment to finally be fulfilled. He looked like an excited toddler awaiting the toys his mother promised him.

Arthur shook his head and replied, “No, Bas, it’s weird now. We can’t do it now.”

“OH, COME ON,” Basile whined, dropping his hands dejectedly.

Lucas flinched under Basile’s sudden outburst, nearly dropping his drink in his lap.

The party was becoming overwhelming with every second. The lights were too bright, the sounds were too loud and even the feeling of his friends leaning against him felt too tight, like he had a rope slowly tying tighter around his body.

Head swimming, Lucas carefully maneuvered his way out from under his friends, stumbling up onto his feet by using the wall as a leverage. Rather breathlessly he choked out, “I’m gonna go outside for a bit. See you guys later.” And before any of them could protest or talk him out of it, Lucas was shoving his way through the other partygoers and searching around for the door to the back garden. He knew it was around there somewhere…

In his hurry to find the exit, Lucas somehow didn’t see quite where he was going and rammed straight into the back of someone. With a pathetic strangled noise, Lucas landed on his ass in the middle of the floor, covered in his own beer.

“Watch where you’re going, weirdo,” the boy Lucas had run into snapped at him, scowling like he was ready to spit fire. Lucas sputtered for some remark in retaliation but came up short and then the guy was slipping away from view.

Lucas got up on his feet again, feeling thoroughly lightheaded and clumsy, like a newborn horse trying to walk for the first time. He took a shuddering breath as he leaned down to pick up his spilled drink, biting back tears. Blinking rapidly to keep from bursting, Lucas surveyed his way around the crowded room, breathing rate increasing every second as the walls closed in around him.

Which way had he just come from? Was the back door that way or the other way? Was that a closet or a bathroom? Where the fuck was he? Where was the back garden? He’d been here multiple times now, so why couldn’t he find the door?

“Hey, are you okay?” Lucas’s head snapped up at the sound of a familiar voice just in front of him. Eliott Demaury, dressed all in black again, was standing right in front of him, eyebrows knitted together in concern. “Lucas? Are you okay? Do you want to go outside?” Eliott asked gently. It was oddly calming listening to his voice, like an auditory hug of sorts. Lucas nodded stiffly, taking a step forward and feeling every individual point that the ground touched his foot. Right, left, right, left, right, left, right, left… all the way through the crowd. Lucas focused on his steps, following just behind Eliott so he could act as a barrier that parted the crowd with his immense height.

Once they finally got outside, the cool air filled Lucas’s lungs as if that was the first oxygen he came across since he got to the party. Lucas gulped down the refreshing air as much as he could, desperate for some proper oxygen. “Lucas. Lucas, you have to calm down or you’re going to pass out,” Eliott insisted, holding onto Lucas’s sleeve and carefully guiding him over to a bench near the far end of the garden.

A few minutes passed of Eliott gently coaxing Lucas out of his panic attack, speaking softly and reassuringly as he helped him breathe properly. Lucas followed Eliott down the end of a long dark tunnel, easily guiding him back into the light with feather light touches and calming tones. Slowly, second by second, Lucas began to come back to his senses until he was left completely exhausted and tingly all over. He was sticky with the drying beer which began to soak into his clothes, making him reek of the thick scent like an awful cologne.

Lucas released a long breath, letting his body go limp and leaning back against the bench. He shut his eyes tightly as tears pricked his eyes. “Hey, you’re okay. No more people or noises, yeah?” Eliott whispered, letting Lucas drop his cheek against Eliott’s shoulder. Lucas knew he’d probably regret that tomorrow, but for now he revelled in the feeling of being close to someone and not feeling utterly overwhelmed.

“Thank you,” Lucas mumbled under his breath, half hoping Eliott wouldn’t hear him.

But he did. Eliott laughed breathily, patting Lucas’ knee and replying, “Don’t worry. I couldn’t just let you hyperventilate yourself into oblivion or get trampled by the house guests. What kind of friend would I be?”

Friend.

Lucas tilted his head sideways to try to look up at Eliott, smirking sheepishly at him. “Oh yeah?” he asked, eyes wide and twinkling under the fairylights set up around the fence that encircled the garden. He hadn’t noticed it previously in his spiral a few minutes ago, but Eliott looked gorgeous in this lighting. His saxe eyes reflected the yellow lights like stars in an evening sky and his hair was sticking up in every which way, just waiting to be messed up even more by wandering fingers.

Looking at him properly up close now, Lucas realised how much less he looked like his brother. He was much softer in a way, eyes scrunching slightly when he smiled and a comforting, sweet aura surrounding him. Whereas Leo was startling and vibrant and in your face, Eliott was gentle and comforting and safe. While Leo radiated confidence and certainty, Eliott seemed much more unsure and cautious. Both boys looked almost identical, but they carried themselves so differently, presented themselves so distinctly, they might as well have been from completely alternate universes.

“LUCAS! Lucas, there you are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” From the door leading out into the garden, Lucas recognised the voice of Yann, albeit much more slurred than normal. Yann and Arthur started making their way across the grass towards them, both stumbling comedically over each other.

Eliott pulled away from Lucas and only then did he notice that he hadn’t actually removed his hand from Lucas’s knee a few minutes ago. Lucas glanced sideways at Eliott and turned back to his friends. “I literally told you guys I was going outside.”

“Oh! You’re talking to Leo again! Hello!” Arthur exclaimed, waving.

Lucas slapped his forehead, groaning and leaning his head back up to the night sky. “Fuck’s sake, Arthur. This is Eliott. I don’t know where Leo is,” Lucas replied, looking apologetically at Eliott who simply shrugged in response.

“Leo didn’t actually come tonight. I’m the only Demaury here.”

“Aww, damn,” Yann blurted, a hint of a whining tone. Lucas’s eyes widened dangerously, scowling at his closest friend like he was close to murdering him. “I just meant it’s always great to have both! Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you guys in the same room. Are you sure there’s two of you?”

Lucas leaped onto his feet, taking Yann by the shoulders. “OKAY! I think that’s our cue to leave before you say anything else idiotic!” Lucas exclaimed, beginning to turn the other two around and guiding them towards the house. “See you later, Eliott!” Out of the other two’s sight, Lucas mouthed, “I’m so sorry” to Eliott, shaking his head exasperatedly and then turned to follow his friends inside. Lucas swore he was friends with toddlers sometimes.

#skam france #elu fic #elu #eliott demaury #lucas lallemant

[residentanchor]

Probable Theorem Ch. 4

<<Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Summary: Things finally settle between the two couples... Note: If you were tagged in this but not anything prior, you are new to the general tag!! I’ll link the first chapter of Lesson in Practicality and Probable Theorem (Since it’s a sequel) if you are interested! Just message me/shoot me an ask if you want to be removed!

Patton was almost skipping he way back home, holding Logan’s hand as they crossed the street from the bus stop. Patton held a container of cookies in his hand that they had baked after Logan convinced him to bring some home to share so he wouldn’t eat them all. They walked up to the porch and spotted someone walking out of the door on the porch next to theirs as she locked up and turned around. She stopped once she spotted them and smiled as they walked up onto the porch.

“Oh well goodness me! Would you be my new downstairs neighbors?” She smiled, her tired eyes crinkling as she did. She was older than them a bit Logan theorized, possibly closer to middle-aged then the boys were. “It’s lovely to finally meet you!”

Patton unhooked his hand from Logan’s and extended it out to her. “Hi there! My name’s Patton!” He shook the older woman’s hand and looked over his shoulder. “This is Logan!” Patton’s smile grew and he giggled to himself. “He’s my boyfriend!”

“Oh gosh, that is so sweet!” Logan blushed at the woman’s words. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, two boys! I’m in a rush or I’d love to talk, maybe another time?”

Patton opened the container and pulled out a cookie to the woman. “Here! We just came back from a bakery, would you like one?”

The woman smiled as she accepted the treat. “Thank you, Patton! Sorry, I must be on my way. Have a good evening you two!”

Their new neighbor walked down the stairs before taking long strides down the sidewalk and disappeared from view. Patton smiled and looked over at Logan as he closed the container once more. “She seems really nice!”

Logan kept his eyes focused down the street before answering. “She never gave her name,” he mumbled before looking up at Patton. “I suppose she was in a hurry. Now, let’s get inside, shall we?”

Logan walked forward and held the door open for Patton who thanked him as he raced inside. As the front door opened, the sudden noise caused Virgil to jump away from Roman on the couch, pushing the other as he fell sideways. He scurried to the opposite side of the sofa as Roman had stumbled forward onto his feet to prevent himself from falling to the ground.

“Oh my gosh ROMAN! I have something to tell you!” Patton raced up to Roman who smiled back at the other.

“Patton! I have something to share as well!” Roman reached out to Patton and placed a hand on his arm.

“So Logan brought me to this bakery-”

“Virgil and I were watching a movie and-”

“-and we baked these delicious cookies, see?!”

“-yes, we ate that pizza thank you! So, Virgil-”

“Oh gosh, he’s so good at baking! Anyway, we were talking and-”

“-completely surprised me and I got the chance to ask and-”

“-NOW HE’S MY BOYFRIEND!”

The last part of their sentence merged into one as they spoke.

“Wait, you’re dating Logan now?” Roman questioned curiously.

Patton gasped and smiled up at Roman. “You two are dating?! Oh my goodness!”

“No, wait! It just happened!” Roman looked back at Virgil before looking over at Logan as he walked across the room. “How did you manage to get together before Virgil and me?”

“Well, perhaps if it weren’t for your trepidation about asking out Virgil in the first place you two would already be together?” Logan didn’t bother hiding the smug look on his face.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself there, Lo.” Virgil leaned back into the couch and placed his hands behind his head. “It’s not a competition and if it was, you wouldn’t win that bet.”

“This is a fact, is it?” Logan walked over to Virgil and grew uneasy at how relaxed Virgil was. “So, the fact that it just happened here when we were already on our way home-”

“It didn’t happen here.” Virgil looked over to Roman before turning back to the nerdy roommate. “Paris, France in the late 1980’s. Had to choose a time when CCTV wasn’t as common, you know? Don’t want people wondering why we just appeared out of nowhere.”

“Oh my goodness, you took him to Paris?” Patton squealed in excitement. “That’s so cute and romantic!”

“Wait!” Roman had a moment of realization. “So technically we’ve been together for 30 years in the span of half an hour?”

“Happy anniversary.” Virgil’s tone was heavy with sarcasm. “It’s felt like it took 30 years, hasn’t it?”

“We should celebrate!” Patton held out the box of cookies. “Anyone want one?”

Logan placed his hand on it and pushed it down gently. “Perhaps a proper meal before we eat even more sweets?”

Patton smiled and fluttered his eyes a bit. “Are you saying I’m sweet enough, Lo?” Patton snickered at Logan’s blush before heading toward the kitchen. “Maybe we should finish unpacking so we can actually use the kitchen for once! We’ve been here a week already!”

Roman groaned but followed Patton into the kitchen. “I’m so tired of unpacking, do we have to?”

“We can have our first family dinner in the apartment! I can start cooking when we’re done so the sooner we’re done the sooner we eat!”

“Sounds satisfactory.” Logan inspected the remaining boxes before his eyes flashed and they opened up. “If we divide the work evenly we should be done in no time.”

---

The days passed were uneasy at first. Everyone was in high spirits but the mood was unsure as they learned how to act around one another and their new relationship status. After Virgil growled out that ‘nothing had really changed’ between all of them, it seemed to fall back to normal. Roman still sang as loud as ever, Virgil made a comfortable pillow and blanket hideaway in his room for when things got too rough, Logan went back to making the chore schedule and reading through a stack of books and Patton and his pals made appearances to straighten up and make jokes.

It was their first chance at a ‘family night’ in the new apartment and Patton had been restless. He had prepared a dinner and even convinced Logan to make a dessert for them afterward to bring home from work from the bakery. Though by ‘convince’, Patton found the number for the bakery and called it up, getting the sweetest sounding woman on the phone.

“Auntie Em’s bakery, how may I help you?”

Patton couldn’t help but smile as he heard the older woman through the phone. “Oh, hi there! My name is Patton, I was calling to see if Logan was there? It’ll just be a minute! I know he doesn’t keep his phone on him when he works.” Patton was met with silence as he waited for any sort of noise to come through the other end. “Hello?”

“Logan, dear!” Patton waited as he heard a shuffling on the other side of the phone. “Could you get me the pastry blender, please? Thank you sugar pie!”

“Are you taking an order? I can finish the dough for you if you need.” Patton covered his mouth to stop the squeal of happiness that threatened to come out. He was so sweet and hardly ever spoke with such a soft tone! Also, had he just made a pun? If you knead indeed!

“Thank you, this should only take a minute.” The slight shuffling returned before the voice returned. “Well, hope you don’t mind we talk for a bit?”

“Oh my goodness,” Patton whispered into the receiver. “You sound as sweet as frosting!”

There was a muffled laugh coming through the other end. “My Loganberry told me you were sweet but my goodness! What can I do for you, sugar? Anything I can do to help?”

“Well, I was calling to see if I couldn’t convince Logan to bring home something for dessert. We’re having our first family night at the new place and I want it to be special!”

“Oh honey, Auntie has just the thing! I think I have enough time to make a raspberry tart, you haven’t lived until you’ve tried it!” Patton heard the phone clank against a surface as the phone was placed down. “Logan! I need you to run to the corner market and get the freshest raspberries they have! I’m making a tart!” The voice sounded a bit far away before footsteps approached the phone once more. “Honey, I want one thing in exchange for this, okay? You get down here next chance you get and we have a nice chat face to face! Logan won’t show me any photos of you and I wanna see the pretty face that has him so smitten like a kitten!”

“Oh gosh of course! I’d love to! It was so cute when we were there, I’d love to come back!”

“Then it’s a deal! It was nice talking to you, Patton dear!”

Right before Patton could give his own goodbye, he heard a bang through the phone. “Patton?” He heard Logan ask, his voice at a higher pitch. “You’re on the phone with Patton?!”

“Not anymore, I was just saying goodbye!”

“Wait, Auntie no-!”

The second Patton heard the dial tone and his phone said the call had ended, he couldn’t hold back his laughter. It wasn’t long after that he received a small flurry of messages from Logan that he simply answered with hearts and smiley faces, keeping it to himself for now.

Dinner was quiet, Roman going on about how job hunting went before diverging off onto a multitude of other things. Logan kept glancing over at Patton who simply smiled back before taking another bite of his dinner.

“So, Patton,” Logan called out in a brief moment of silence Roman had left. “About a certain phone call you had made today.”

Patton looked up and smiled brightly at the other. “Yes, Loganberry?” Logan froze in place as Patton took a bite of dinner, ignoring the effect his words had on the other.

Logan took a moment before placing his utensils down. “Please, if we don’t talk about this it will keep me up all night.”

“Aww, Logan! There’s no need to be worried! I wanted to see if you could maybe bring a few cookies home from work is all!” Patton looked over to the counter where a white box sat. “I wasn’t expecting a whole big tart!”

Logan slid down into his chair a bit, forgoing his good posture for just a moment. “It’s one of my favorite things, she usually uses it to bribe me into something.”

“Well, I can’t wait to dig in and try it out! I’ll have to give her a review when I meet her later this week!” Patton ignored how Logan nearly jumped out of his chair at his words. “She probably has so many stories about how you are… what were her words? Smitten as a kitten?”

Logan buried his face in his hands and audibly groaned, ignoring the snickering coming from the other side of the dinner table.

A knock on the front door caught everyone’s attention before Patton sprang up and walked out of the kitchen. “Just a second!” Virgil leaned back in his chair, watching as Patton walked into the living room toward the front door. He looked over at the other two and listened as the front door opened. “Oh, I’m so glad you could make it! Find the place okay?”

“Yeah, sorry we’re a little early, is that okay?” At the voice, Roman jumped up from his chair and ran into the living room, stopping and smiling as Patton let in their visitors. “Hey, Roman.”

“Thomas!” Roman looked over his shoulder at their second guest. “You brought Joan with you! Fantastic!”

“Yeah, they wanted to come.” Thomas looked back and smiled at his best friend. “Said that this would be the last good chance to secretly reveal you’re all murderers.”

“Preposterous,” Logan stated as he walked in trailing behind Virgil. “If we were murderers we would have had many perfect opportunities before this one.”

“Yeah, well,” Joan shrugged. “If you’re going to kill Thomas then I want to be right there with him, to die in his arms so the last thing we do is embrace as I tell him ‘I told you so.’”

Virgil snorted out a laugh before shaking his head. “You wouldn’t even bother trying to stop us?”

“Me.” Joan pointed to themself. “Against four superpowered humans? Nah, I’m better off embracing death metaphorically and Thomas physically. Seems much more pleasant.”

“Oh, Joan!” Thomas placed his hands over his heart as he stared his friend down with loving eyes. “That’s so sweet!”

“Yeah, way to make my secret plans of murdering you all mushy, gross.” Virgil huffed with a smirk. “Guess there go my plans.”

“We were just finishing up dinner!” Patton clapped his hands together. “If you’re hungry then please join us!”

Thomas shook his head as he looked around the living room. “Nah, we just ate.”

“Shame,” Roman said before clapping his hands together. “More raspberry tart for us then!”

Joan pushed passed Thomas and headed for the kitchen. “Don’t worry! I’ll test it for poison first just to be safe.”

Thomas couldn’t help but smile as they all trailed back into the kitchen. “So, it’s nice! A little smaller than your last place but it’s comfortable.”

“I can’t wait to decorate it properly!” Patton started cleaning up the empty plates to make room for dessert. “I’ve been talking to Roman about a few ideas we had.”

“Oh, Thomas.” Logan turned toward the guests. “How has your memory been lately?”

Thomas shrugged and turned to Joan for a proper answer. “He’s doing better. His short-term memory has improved but there are still random things he will have forgotten.”

“Ahh, I see.” Logan nodded before clearing his throat.  “I was hoping we could put some time aside to work on your abilities when you had a chance? I have a few ideas if you don’t mind.”

“Aww, Logan!” Thomas smiled at the man. “You don’t need to be shy! If you want to hang out you just have to ask!”

Patton reached over and wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulder as he pulled him close. “Yeah, Lo! I think it’s great you want to hang out with Thomas more!”

Logan ducked his head as a blush quickly took over his face. Thomas gasped dramatically and placed a hand on his chest. “Logan, is that a blush I see?”

“Well, that is reasonable.” Logan glanced up and smiled at Patton. “Seeing as my boyfriend is being overly affectionate at this current time.”

“BOYFRIEND?!” Thomas shouted and stared at them with a smile. “Oh, my goodness finally! I was wondering when you two would get together!”

“You didn’t tell him?” Logan asked as he turned to Patton, earning a shake of the head as a response. “Wait, so then does he know about…?” Logan pointed over to his other roommates as he asked silently.

“Do I know about what?” Thomas looked over at Roman and Virgil, watching Virgil turn away and Roman smile with pride. “Oh, are you kidding me right now?! You all finally got together and no one told me? Now we’re the third wheel to your date night!”

“Come on, Thomas, that’s ridiculous.” Joan looked up at him as they spoke. “They were going to be the extras to our date night, now we’re just all having a date night together.”

They gathered into the living room as Patton and Two spread out some blankets and pillows on the floor. They all ate their dessert and gave compliments to Logan to give to his aunt as half the tart vanished in minutes.

Roman proclaimed that their first family night movie must be Disney before Virgil shot him down. They had watched a Disney movie a few days ago so the first movie had already been Disney.

“Well, that shouldn’t count! It wasn’t family night!” Roman huffed as he stared down at their stack of movies.

“We can watch Disney next time, Princey.” Virgil sifted through the mess looking for something, not Disney. Roman’s collection went up in flames at the last apartment so there actually weren’t too many to choose from. “There are other movies that exist.”

“How about a bet?” Virgil stopped and looked up at Roman with interest. “One line, whoever blushes harder loses.”

“Alright, just let me pick my winning movie first then.” Roman gasped in offense to Virgil’s statement before they both stood up, staring each other down.

Roman reached out for Virgil’s hand and placed it over his head. “Virgil, I would die for you.”

Virgil smiled as a light blush formed on his cheeks. “Roman… I would live for you.”

Roman blinked as the words set in and he pulled back, his cheeks becoming much more flushed than the others. “That’s not fair, you can’t just say things like that!”

“A bet is a bet, so we’re not watching Disney.”

Patton held up a case and looked down at it. “How about the Avengers?”

“First off, owned by Disney so it counts.” Virgil scrunched up his nose. “Second off, a superhero film? Us? Really?”

Patton looked down at the case and shrugged. “Nice to see people you can relate to, right?”

“That’s preposterous.” Logan reached out for the DVD case and Patton handed it over. “First off, these characters are fictional.”

“So is Sherlock and Doctor Who, what’s your point?” Roman asked.

“Do we really want to watch a movie about people with superpowers when we are people with superpowers?” Logan questioned as he held up the case.

“Hey, I don’t have powers,” Joan called out from their spot they formed on the bed of blankets.

“No, you don’t.” Thomas turned to Joan with a completely serious look in his eyes. “You’re Joan and you’re pretty super. That’s enough for me.”

“Awww,” Joan called out before turning to the others. “How about we watch it and mock how inaccurate they portray how difficult it is to use powers?”

“Oh, my gosh, Spiderman did just a good job at what can we watch that next?” Roman reached over and picked up the movie in question. He looked up and saw Virgil staring at him. “What?”

“How did I win the bet and yet we are still watching Disney?”

“Umm, because I’m awesome?” Roman was shoved back and fell to the floor. “Oh, my heart! You wound me!”

“Quiet and go make me popcorn,” Virgil smirked as he set up the tv for their movie night.

“Popcorn, extra salty just like you?” Roman turned and got up off of the floor. “I’ll be back in but a moment!”

“Oh gosh, why am I dating him?” Virgil muttered to himself, but everyone saw the smile he couldn’t shake off.

Taglist: @cyberpunkjinx @phlying-squirrel  @equipodeleo @ace-anx @tisithelittleelephant @sanderslays @fandomsofrandom @wandering-wondering-aimlessly @thestoryofme13 @herequeerandverytired @too-random-for-me @midknight-mania @tatergator27 @sleepyssnail @dragonsight9 General Taglist: @tatergator27 @helloisthisusernametaken @entitydark @lightningbug04 @moonstonefox12 @rampantlesbian @echomist13 Chapter 5>>

#sanders sides #sanders sides au #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfic #slice of life au #superpower au #superhero au #ts logan #ts patton #ts roman #ts virgil #ts thomas #ts joan #practicality fic #practicality 2 #celery writes

[today-only-happens-once]

Fight or Flight

Title: Fight or Flight

Summary: “ROMAN!” The strangled cry rips violently up his throat. Or, Virgil accompanies Roman on a quest, and a nightmare lurks just around the corner. Prinxiety (Romantic or Platonic).

Warnings: violence, major injury (deep scratches), blood, a monster, brief mention of death, reckless actions and stubbornness, description of tight spaces at the beginning, arguing, panicking (not exactly a panic attack but perhaps could be triggering for one if that is a trigger, so please be careful!), and as always please let me know if I forgot anything!

A/N: So, @thepoolofthedead tossed an idea in an ask a while ago about Virgil basically getting super strong in moments of extreme crisis. I don’t know how well I represented that idea here, but since that was the idea that inspired this fic, I wanted to give credit where it is due. I hope it turned out okay! There’s actually quite a lot happening and I didn’t get to explain it all in this fic because of just how it ended up playing out. I may write a sequel piece that helps explain/address some things, but don’t hold me to it. Haha. Edited by yours truly, so all mistakes are mine. Always scary to post, hope you all enjoy it anyway. 

Tags: @creativenostalgiastuff, @helloisthisusernametaken, @ren-allen, @lizaelsparrow, @princelogical, @random-pianist, @ravenclawicecream, @erlenmeyertrash, @milomeepit, @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes, @rileyfirstname, @pinkeasteregg, @vigilantvirgil, @generalfandomfabulousness, @lacrimosathedark, @sassy-in-glasses (I think that’s the right url but it doesn’t seem to want to work...), as always, just lemme know if you wanna be added to my list!

…

“Remind me again why I let you drag me along for this?”

“Relax, Forrest Grump,” Roman quips, his voice chipper as ever, “We’re almost there.”

Virgil casts a wide, anxious glance at the narrow stairwell around them. Roman—sword sheathed at his hip, a torch extended outwards in his hands as the only source of light—leads the way in front of him. The spiraling stairs are dark and never seem to end. The tall brick walls on either side don’t help the general feeling of claustrophobia. Virgil has his hood pulled up, his gaze flickering between the damp and slippery steps and the Prince’s back in front of him.

Virgil scowls, trying to ignore the way his shoulders coil tighter at the distant sound of water dripping into a puddle that somehow seems to echo in the too-narrow pathway. “Roman, I don’t like this.”

“Yes, you’ve mentioned that. You know, you didn’t have to come, Edward Sullen. I was under the impression that you had wanted to join me.”

It wasn’t exactly that simple. Roman had been preparing for this quest over the past week, and over the course of those seven days, the knot in Virgil’s stomach had steadily worsened. He had never been a big fan of Roman going on quests in general—the closer together everyone is, the easier for Virgil to make sure they’re all safe—but he’d seen the excited twinkle steadily grow in the Prince’s eyes as the date for his departure neared, and Virgil had bitten his tongue against the words of concern he so badly wanted to voice.

But then Roman expressed some hesitation himself the night before he was due to depart. He asked if any of the other Sides might want to accompany him; an offer he’d made time and again whenever he left, but Virgil saw the tightness in his jaw and the way the cocky smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and knew that Roman wasn’t just offering to be nice. He really wanted someone to come with him.

So Virgil—with a shrug of faux-indifference that contrasted with the ball of nerves sitting heavy in his chest—agreed. That had been five days ago.

Virgil clenches his jaw for a moment at Roman’s flippant disregard. “I did,” he replies. “But I just really—“

Roman stops suddenly and holds up a hand, causing Virgil to cut himself off. “Did you hear that?” the Creative Side asks in a whisper.

Virgil chews his lip but listens intently. Another few drops of water plop into a puddle. Roman’s soft breathing. Virgil is starting to think he can hear his own heartbeat.

Then he does hear what Roman is talking about. A quiet, distant growl. It’s low, guttural, but Virgil hears it. Something in his stomach squirms uncomfortably. Roman smiles faintly, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

“Roman,” Virgil says, “Listen to me. I don’t know about this.”

The Prince shakes his head adamantly. “Virgil, you are more than welcome to turn back now. I will not force you to continue on this journey with me. But I must press on.”

“Why?” Virgil demands suddenly, the word coming out harsher than he meant it to. He can’t place what is wrong, exactly, except that there was something sitting heavy in his chest that had only hardened and grown over the past five days with each step into this quest Virgil traveled. Being surrounded by so much raw, creative energy only led Virgil to think more and more about every possible thing that could go wrong, making it hard to think and increasingly harder to just breathe.

Roman looks taken aback for a moment before frustration covers the surprise at the outburst. “Because this is what I do, Virgil.”

“But why—,” His voice is drowned out by another growl. Louder, and closer. Virgil thinks—although he isn’t sure—that he hears a faint hissing as well.

Roman’s head snaps away from Virgil as his hand falls to his sword at his hip. “I’m going to find out what’s at the bottom of this stairwell,” he says steadily. It takes Virgil a second to realize that he’s talking to him. “I won’t blame you if you want to turn back.”

“No. I-I’m coming with you.” Virgil hates the way his voice wavers, faint traces of distortion beginning to leak through. Roman sets the torch in a nearby empty holder and unsheathes his sword. The metallic scrape grates against Virgil’s ears and forces the rest of the air from his lungs.

The two of them descend the stairs together. With each step, Virgil has to try a little harder to breathe.

When they reach the bottom a few moments later, the heavy wooden door is all that stands between them and whatever the source of the growls and hisses are. They are louder now. Virgil thinks—if he could just focus—he could maybe make out what they’re saying…

Roman casts one last look back at Virgil, but it’s too fast for the Anxious Side to read his expression before he grabs the handle of the door and uses his shoulder to shove. It ricochets open, the Prince stumbling ungracefully into the room. Virgil wastes no time in rushing in after him.

The ‘room’ is really more of a cavern. It is mostly cast in dark shadows, but light trickles in faintly from somewhere up above, breaking in through cracks in the jagged gray rocks. It sparkles on the surface of the stream of water that runs through the middle of cave. The ground—darkened with moisture—is made of the same rocky unevenness that covers the walls.

The door slams shut loudly behind them. Virgil whirls around, lunging for the door handle and yanking on it. It does not budge.

“Roman, I swear if you’re—“

“Virgil. Get behind me.”

“What?”

When Virgil turns back around, he sees that Roman has positioned himself in front of him, his sword extended outward. His other arm is stretched out to his side as if to bar Virgil from something. His gaze follows past Roman’s shoulder. Silhouetted against the faint light is a dark figure. The Anxious Side squints a little, his eyes still adjusting to the darkness. The figure looks almost human.

Almost.

“Uh,” Virgil says. His voice sounds tight and shaky. “What is that?”

He sees Roman’s jaw jump. The flicker of the Prince’s gaze betrays the uncertainty he won’t say. Roman doesn’t know. Virgil’s breathing turns shallow. Roman had created this realm, hadn’t he? How could just not know what was in it?

There’s a beat of silence.

Then it lunges.

Virgil feels a weight slam into him, knocking him sideways. It—whatever it is—shrieks, it’s wail amplifying and echoing against the rocks loud enough to hurt Virgil’s ears. A second later, as he scrambles to his feet, Virgil realizes that the shove have come from Roman. Pushing him out of the way.

It’s got Roman by the throat, shoved up against the door that wouldn’t open. The Prince—eyes wide, panicked—slashes at it with his sword. It hisses and drops him. Roman collapses to his knees.

Virgil’s throat constricts as everything around him heightens. His vision sharpens slightly. His heart is pounding in his chest, but no longer does it drown out the other sounds around him. He can hear Roman’s gasps for air. The quiet, inhuman clicks that seem to be coming from it as it rights itself. It doesn’t seem to be injured.

It glides frictionless towards Roman again. Virgil tries to shout his name, but it catches and mangles in his lungs. Virgil looks around for something to use. Anything.

There’s nothing.

Roman’s surprised, terrified yell and the clatter of his sword as it is ripped from his grip grabs Virgil’s attention. The Creative Side flies through the air—it isn’t even touching him, how the—before hitting the ground hard and rolling.

“ROMAN!” The strangled cry rips violently up his throat. A few feet to the left lies Roman’s sword.

It descends on the Prince like a shadow. Roman growls, pinned to the ground on his back by it. He attempts to fight it off—throwing punches, elbows, wrestling with it to gain the upper hand again—but whatever it might be is strong and Roman simply doesn’t stand a chance.

Raw instinct takes over. Virgil lunges for the sword.

Roman releases an anguished, pained scream as it rakes sharp talons across his chest.

“NO!” The distortion—so saturated in his voice that it doesn’t even sound like his anymore--amplifies the volume and reverberates against the stone. Virgil launches himself at it, fueled by the raw fight-or-flight adrenaline that floods his veins. He throws his full weight into it. His arms wraps around it and he tears it off of Roman. It shrieks.

Even up close, grappling with it in a flail of limbs, Virgil can’t quite tell what it is. It’s a corporeal shadow: not quite human, not quite anything. Virgil tries, blindly and desperately, to slash at it with the sword. It wrenches his arm down, pinning it to the ground above his head as it scrambles to gain the upper hand.

Roman shouts something. Its snarl in Virgil’s ear keeps him from being able to make out what he says.

Its head—if it can even be called that—swivels over towards the Prince with renewed interest even as it struggles to pin Virgil to the ground just as it had with Roman.

“You want him?” Virgil grits out behind clenched teeth. “You’re gonna have to go through me.”

Roman yells something else, high and pained, but Virgil is too focused to pay attention to what it is. Protect him. It’s all Virgil can think.

The Anxious Side pushes with everything he has left against its grip on his arm. He throws it off of him with a strangled, choked cry. It hisses, almost as if in surprise.

Virgil wrestles it to the ground, the sword still in his hands.

He shoves the blade into it.

It dissipates in a swirl of black smoke. The cavern echoes with an abrupt, startling silence. For a moment, the only thing Virgil can hear are his own wheezing gasps as he struggles to catch his breath. His hands are trembling. His eyes are locked on where it had been only seconds ago. The sword slips through his fingers and falls to the ground.

“V-Virgil?”

Roman.

Virgil snaps out of it and frantically scrambles to his feet, rushing the few feet back to the Prince and nearly tripping over himself in the process. Roman’s usually pristine, white suit is dirtied and torn. The red sash is shredded, the same color as the blood stains across his chest that outline the tears in the fabric.

“Ro…” The name cuts off as his throat squeezes closed. Roman looks pale.

His eyes are dark and wide. For a brief moment, Virgil wants to describe it as awe. Or maybe it’s just fear. “You…” He coughs.

“Shut up,” Virgil says, harsher than he really means it to sound. His hands hover, unsure of where to touch or what to do. “You’re bleeding.” His voice sounds higher pitched than normal. “This is bad. This is bad. This is bad.” His breath hitches. He can’t breathe. He tries, and it rattles in his lungs.

“Virgil,” Roman says. He grimaces as he attempts to sit up, propping himself up with one arm. “I’ll be okay.”

“Roman.” The distortion is back in his voice. “Don’t. Don’t lie to me.”

The Prince swallows, but his soft gaze doesn’t leave Virgil’s. “Truly. I just have to get back to my room. I have some things there that can help.” Virgil can tell from the way he breathes that he’s attempting to stifle the gasps of pain.

Virgil squeezes his eyes shut for a moment as his thoughts race a mile a minute. It took them five days to get here. That was five days back, maybe three if they could push it but with the state that Roman was in… and even then, Virgil doubts that Roman has that long. Could Roman… die? Become nothing? What would that do to Thomas? To Patton, to Logan?

It would be his fault. All his fault. He should have kept Roman from going on this quest in the first place. Why would Roman construct something in the mindscape that could kill him? Why would he do that?

“Virge, open your eyes.”

“How do you expect us to get back to your room before—“

“Please.”

Frustrated—terrified—Virgil reluctantly opens his eyes. The rock floor beneath his knees has been replaced by hardwood. Roman’s large canopy bed sits with the headboard against one wall. The French doors on another wall are open and a soft breeze dances in the thin white curtains. They’re back in Roman’s bedroom.

“I—what?” Virgil says, even as the distortion fades from his voice. His light brown eyes flicker around the room before falling back on Roman, still in his half-sitting position on the floor beside him.

“I sunk us out,” Roman says. His voice is still tight with pain. He grimaces again. “Virgil, if could go to my bookshelf, there’s a purple bottle…”

The Anxious Side jumps to his feet and hurries to the tall fixture in the corner of the room. He finds it almost immediately—it’s a small vial, a cork stopper shoved into the top of it—and snatches it off the shelf. Accidentally, he knocks a different bottle and sends it crashing into the hardwood. Virgil jumps at the sound, a gray liquid pooling at his feet.

Before he can say anything, Logan and Patton both appear in the room. “You’re back!” Patton says excitedly.

Virgil whirls around to face him. “I—“

“Roman!” Logan says in alarm, as he looks at the tattered state of the Prince’s suit, at the blood soaking the front of his chest. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story,” Virgil replies, rushing back to Roman with the vial in his hands. “So, uh, how does this work? Do you drink it?” Virgil pulls the stopper out. He realizes that the words are coming out all in a rush, but he doesn’t know how to slow down.

He doesn’t realize his hands are shaking until Roman covers them with his own. “It’s… topical. Just pour it over the injuries and let it do its thing.” He sounds unbelievably calm.

Virgil laughs—wet and shaky and humorless—because Roman is the one that is injured so why can’t he just keep it together. He swallows hard and nods. “Okay. Okay.” He drags in a tight, shallow breath, and then tips the vial over Roman’s chest, letting the dark violet liquid form a thin stream.

Virgil watches, a part of him amazed, as the liquid seems to disappear into Roman’s skin. The jagged, bloodied wounds across his chest glow faintly, the torn skin gradually fusing back together. The scratches disappear, with no sign they had ever been there save for slightly reddened skin.

When it has completed its job, Roman sags a little in relief and coughs.

“That’s… remarkable,” Logan breathes.

Roman throws the Logical Side an exhausted smile. “Concentrated Creativity. Potent stuff.” He coughs again. “Spending a significant amount of time here in my room would have the same effect, but this… speeds things along.”

“How do you feel, kiddo?” Patton asks, the worry ringing clear in his voice.

Roman lifts a shoulder. “Good as new, Padrè. Thanks to Virgil.”

Virgil is still staring at his chest. Had it really only been moments ago that he’d watched it slice through Roman’s skin and heard him scream? Before he can think, Virgil reaches a hand towards it, his fingertips lightly brushing the healed skin through the still-torn fabric. Roman goes very still.

Virgil’s breath catches faintly at feeling Roman real and solid and safe. His skin is warm and soft beneath his fingers.

“Virge?” The Prince’s quiet voice catches his attention. Virgil glances up.

Roman’s still got a dark bruise on his cheekbone. His usually pristine hair is disheveled and streaked with dirt, sweat, some dried blood. Stale tear tracks mark their way through the grime on his face. There is something soft in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Roman whispers.

Virgil’s vision blurs and he averts his gaze even as Roman’s fingers close around his own lingering on the Prince’s chest.

“Guys, what happened to you?” Logan asks.

Virgil makes a noise in the back of his throat as he tries to open his mouth to answer. The memory is still too fresh. Too raw. He feels arms grab for him and suddenly he’s against something warm and familiar and he can tell by the way the fabric feels against his cheek that he’s in Roman’s arms.

He feels Roman lean in his head on the top of his own. “You… saved me, Virgil.”

Virgil releases a sound that is somewhere between a sob and a laugh of relief. “Fight or flight, remember?”

He can feel the Prince’s chest move as he sucks in a deep breath. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t… have done that to you. Your action should not have been necessary. I’m not… sure what happened, exactly, but I should have listened to you when you wanted to turn back.”

Patton’s voice softly speaks up. “What matters right now is that you are both safe. That’s enough, right?”

Virgil can still hear Roman’s anguished cry of pain reverberating in his head. He can’t help but feel that sound will haunt his nightmares for a while.

But as he listens to the thudding of Roman’s heart against his ear, the screams start to fade into the background. They give way to the steady, rhythmic reminder that Roman is, indeed, safe.

“Yeah,” Virgil agrees softly. “That’s enough.”

....

Liked it? Read the sequel here!

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #prinxiety #prinxiety fanfiction #virgil sanders #roman sanders #violence #injury #blood #arguing #meep i don't know how well this is gonna come across #because there's subtle stuff happening that i wanted to explain but couldn't naturally work in #hence why i may or may not write a sequel #i hope this was at least okay anywa #i was gonna wait for roman's name reveal day but i really need to work on hw stuff and can't focus if ive still got this sitting around #because ill just want to keep editing it #*posts then runs away and hides*

[thewildheroine]

Meet Me In Between |Part Three| An Infinity War Spoiler Story

Warnings: Language, underage use of drugs and alcohol, vomiting, death, major spoiler, anxiety, nightmares, angst

Word Count: 3.3k

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: Honestly I'm super surprised by how many notes this series has received as well as the number of people asking to be tagged in it!!! Thank you so much loves and I hope you enjoy part three!❤️💛💙❤️💛💙

|Masterlist|

|Part One| |Part Two| |Part Four|

People surround me, attempting to get a few words in with the adventurer at Lily’s end of the world party. It is in no way the end of the world though. In fact, it’s like everyone has returned to their normal everyday life, or they’re trying to. That’s the reason Lily is even throwing a party tonight. She believes it’s better to cope while drunk on your parents' whiskey rather than actually understanding what is going on. Maybe I would be doing the same thing as her if things like drugs and alcohol didn’t affect my abilities so much. Hang on some random junior from the Academy and pass around a joint. God. I wish I could get lost in it all.

The cup of beer in my hand is still full though and I haven’t laid a finger on any sort of drug since the incident two years ago. I intend to make sure I never do again. Suddenly, I swat a hand away from me but it isn’t an in-betweener’s. In front of me is a sophomore boy, drunk off his ass with a smug look on his face. He says something but I can’t be bothered to listen. Deciding I don’t feel like dealing with him I swerve past the lowerclassman and begin making my way towards where Lily is. Clouds of vape burst across my vision and I cough, bothered by the saccharine smells.

“Baby!” Lily hiccups as soon as she sees me through the crowd of our peers. Just as I thought she has slung her body over a juniors lap who seems especially happy about the situation. I smile and roll my eyes, still finding it in me to adore my best friend in a bubbly state such as this. Moving past high teens I make my way across the room and to the couch where she sits mimicking the posture of some sort of goddess.

“Hey beautiful,” I wink at her jokingly, throwing her into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. “I think I’d better get home.” As soon as the words leave my mouth Lily’s giggling is replaced with a frown and she stares up at me with wide green puppy-dog eyes.

“But, Y/N,” she laments while pulling herself off the boy’s lap, “I’ve barely gotten a chance to talk to you. Also, you haven’t even finished your drink yet.” Lily points down at my red cup to make a point.

“You know I can’t drink. Not with my gift,” I remind. Lily watches me sadly for a moment, sobering up so she can sympathize with me. Abruptly she pulls me into a hug that is tight enough to make my spine crack. I chuckle and tuck my nose into her warm brown skin that smells like honey. She pulls away abruptly and makes direct and unnerving eye contact with me.

“Text me the moment you get home,” she asserts and I feel myself shrink a bit under her harsh gaze.

“Of course,” I promise and hug her again. She sighs, her breath somehow not filled with the scent of the strong liquor she was drinking only moments earlier. “I always do.” Finally, I pull away from her body and grin to comfort her. In Lily’s eyes, I can tell she knows somethings up. For as long as we’ve known each other she’s been able to read me like a goddamn book. I think that may just be her superpower. “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay,” Lily responds sadly. As I’m backing away I shoot a glare at the boy who tugs my best friend back into his lap. He meets my eyes in a moment and looks down fearfully, not wanting to incur the wrath of the ghost girl. I smirk to myself when I turn away and begin walking towards the door. People call out my name so that they can talk to me even for a moment but I ignore each and everyone, just desiring to get home at this point.

Finally, I push past the double doors and enter the night. The pale moon shines a light on every single blade of dewy grass, creating an ocean of pure white. I giggle and move down Lily’s front walk and towards my car. Even outside I can hear the hollering of the students enjoying the part. A piece of me hates them for that. That they all can go about and do what they please without nearly dying. At least most of the time.

An image of hospital lights flash overhead and I have to lean against my car to keep from falling at the sight of them. Like a bird swooping in and out of view, the vision is fleeting, and as soon as it has disappeared from my mind I walk around my car and get inside. The dashboard automatically lights up and drive away.

As I’m driving home I find that the streets are empty for the most part. The only exception being the very few people driving home from their late shifts. I find comfort in the unusually quiet streets. Seeing that no one is behind me and my mother hadn’t texted me a specific curfew besides be home by the time I wake up tomorrow I take my time driving home so that I can enjoy the way the light emitted by the intersections look in the thick mist that has settled upon Greenwich suddenly. Slowly, I come to a halt at the last stop light before I reach my neighborhood. Enjoying the feeling of the cold, wet air when I roll down my window down, I drop my head against the back of my seat.

All of the sudden, pain bolts through my chest though and I gasp for air. Lurching forward, my hand hits the wheel and causes a long drawn out horn to break the silent air. I cry out and clench my jaw. My body stays paralyzed for a good five minutes, adjusting to the pain and pure anxiety I just experienced. The light had gone through a full cycle three times until the emotion disappeared enough for me to move again. Hesitantly, I look down and at my chest where the pain rooted from. My heart stops when I see the dark purple bruise branching up from my sternum and over my collarbone. I touch the bruise and wince.

“What the fuck?” I question. Looking around wildly, I try searching for an in-betweener who may have inflicted the injury upon me. All I find is a completely empty car though. I lift a hand to my face and run it through my hair, pulling at half of the strands that were pulled into a bun.

“HEY!” someone shouts at me. I look in my rearview mirror and see a car waiting for me to move behind my own Audi. Gulping down my fear I press down on my pedal and move to the right side of the road. As the person passes they lift their middle finger at me and speed away. I groan and rub aimlessly at my chest, wondering how in the hell a giant bruise like that just appeared.

The moment I see my house I’m relieved which is definitely a first. Haphazardly, I park my car in the garage and walk towards the front door. I pray that when I come in Max doesn't bark at all. Knowing my mom won’t be angry if he does though I swing open the door fearlessly only to be met with the Australian Shepherd who is lazily stretched out on the wooden tiles. He offers me a dopey smile which I return as I kneel down to his level and scratch his ear.

“Hey big boy,” I whisper. “How come you’re still up?” Max stands with me and shakes his thick brown, black, and white coat. We wander down to my room together, ignoring the overhead lights as they turn on when they sense our presence so that we don’t trip over each other. At the end of the hall, I can see my mother and father’s bedroom door that is barely cracked open enough for me to see the light of someone’s phone. For some reason, I feel the need to look away in shame.

I push my door open and Max immediately rushes in and jumps on my bed with a wagging tail, making me giggle. Lazily I toss my keys onto my desk and drop my jacket on the floor. Max watches curiously as I pull off my shirt and look into the mirror.

I'm shocked when I see my reflection. Only ten minutes ago there was a giant bruise covering the entirety of my chest up to my collarbone. Now, I am only met with my chest that has no purple, yellow or green marks on it. I run my fingers over my ribs to see if I can feel any pain from the contact. There's nothing though. Just the feeling of skin lightly brushing against skin, a touch that I never really appreciated until this moment. I press my hand against my sternum and sigh.

“Okay,” I mumble. “We're okay.” After I peek in the mirror again I waddle over to my bed and fall onto the soft mattress. Right away I snuggle into my comforters and close my eyes, willing sleep to envelope me before the nightly event begins.

I'm younger here. A sophomore with hope coiled inside of me like a child's slinky before trying to make it leap down the stairs. Lily sits across from me at the lunch table. I scroll through my Instagram feed, seeing what people have been posting about the Avengers most recent battle.

“Y/N.” I lift my eyes when I hear Lily calls me only to be met with her skinny juul. I stare blankly at it and raise an eyebrow.

“What?” I wonder with furrowed brows, not sure what she wants me to do. Lily rolls her eyes and pushes the item close to me.

“You should try it,” she encourages. I just scoff and look back down at my phone.

“Thanks but no,” I mumble and double click my home button to switch to Twitter. “You know I don't do anything like that.” When I glance at Lily through my hair I see her rolling her eyes while taking another hit. She leans in towards me and blows the steam right into my face. I choke on the faux smell of peaches and turn away.

“Dude,” I cough.

“Come on Y/N,” she moans and offers it to me again. “It's gonna happen sooner or later. Might as well get used to it.” I nod sarcastically and swag it away from me.

“You can't know that,” I hiss. Lily's stubborn though, and the little black thing stays right next to my lips.

“You go to a hippy liberal school in New York,” she informs me. “It's gonna happen.” I spare the juul another look hesitantly. I know better. I know that doing anything unusual may disrupt my connection with the in-between, but the begging look in Lily's eyes is enough to make me take the item from her. She smirks victoriously as I turn the mouthpiece towards my dry lips and take a shaky breath.

“One hit,” I reaffirm. Hesitantly, I put it in my mouth. The moment the drug hits my tongue I feel repulsed by the feeling and pull it out of my mouth. Coughing out loud I toss Lily's juul back to her. She laughs sweetly as the steam sputters out of my throat.

“Like it?” she chuckles. I roll my eyes and flip her off while grabbing my phone again.

“God no,” I tell her while gritting my teeth, the peachy taste still stuck in my throat. She pats my shoulder hand softly. The moment her skin meets mine I'm jolted forward through the day until I'm in my sixth-period class. I tap my finger paranoidly on my desk and glance around.

Hundreds if not thousands of hands run around my body by I can't make out any in-betweeners. I flash in and out of this world uncontrollably despite how hard I cling. Beads of sweat drip from my face and my teacher stares at me blankly.

“Y/N sweetheart, are you okay?” The moment she asks it I stand from my seat and shake my head. My chair falls backward and onto the linoleum with a loud thud. I stare down at my hands which fade in and out of sight and I nearly faint when I realize that they remind of the warped space when in-betweeners are around.

“No,” I mumble, suddenly feeling sick beyond belief. Hurriedly I sprint over to the trash can and vomit into it. I cling to the bag as I continue hurling into it, feeling weaker and weaker as more is released from me.

The dream doesn't continue as it should though. Abruptly, I'm taken from my dream and placed on an entirely different planet. The ground beneath me is course and the color of rust. My fingers dig into the rough sand and I lift it to my face. I study the material as it falls through my nimble fingers and hits the planet’s crust.

“Something's happening,” a woman announces. I twist around wildly to face her and demand some sort of answer about where I am. When I meet her wide eyes that stare straight into mine though I'm shocked. Whoever she is, she is absolutely not human. I step closer to her, taking in her pale skin, pure black eyes and skinny antennas. The moment I open my mouth to question her she begins turning to ash.

I watch in horror as what remains of the woman brushes past my face as though it is one last scared attempt to cling to life. My vision flickers away for a moment. When it returns there is yet another alien figure in front of me, only this one has grey and red skin with broad shoulders. He stares right through me, obviously not realizing I'm here with him.

“Quill?” he mumbles before fading into ash as well. I turn slowly to where he was looking and find myself face to face with a man who I believe to be human. He, just like the other, doesn't notice me as he looks down at his hands that begin turning to ash.

“Oh man.” Just like the others, he disappears, his ashes whispering along my skin as I begin to cry. I begin hugging my body desperately to try and quiet the whimpers that escape my already raw throat. My eyes shut, not wanting to see any more death.

“Tony…” another voice begins but I keep my eyes closed, unwilling to watch as another person dies. “There was no other way.”

“Mr. Stark?” For some strange reason, this is the voice that completely breaks me. My head snaps up and I look at a young man, dressed in a metal Spider-Man suit who hugs himself like I'm doing. He looks up and I understand that each of us knows what is going to happen next.

I stand on my weak legs, staring right at the boy who can't even see me. My stomach is in hurtful knots when I realize he's the boy Ned promised I would meet one day. God, I don't want to meet him like this.

“I don't feel so good,” he slurs his words. With a choked gasp I begin backing away. I can't find any sort of courage in me to watch him of all people disappear and stain my body with ash. All of the sudden he falls forward and into my arms. A sob escapes my scratchy throats as he wraps his arms around me and begins to cry as well. Despite the voice in my head telling me not to I wrap my arms around his torso and pull him closer to me.

“I don't want to go,” he bawls into my chest. “Please, I don't wanna go. I don't wanna go,” he repeats. I bow my head and look down, finding that not only is the boy I'm holding turning to ash but so am I. I hide my face in his chestnut curls and cry out, scared beyond belief.

“I’ll go with you,” I promise, hoping he may just hear. “We’ll go together. We’ll go together.” Suddenly, the boy falls back and I go down with him.  He stares tto his right as my body begins to disintegrate more and more. I find that my vision becomes blotchy with dark spots and soon enough the only thing I can see is his calming brown eyes as he turns back towards me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. I place a hand on his face as I begin fading away with him.

“Me too.”

I shoot up from my comforters that have become damp with sweat. My hands cling to my sides as I make sure I’m still pieced together. Much to my relief I haven’t turned to ash or disappeared but that doesn’t make what I just experienced any less real. Searching for solace after such a terrible nightmare I look to my hands. I only find more horror etched into my skin though. Tucked into the creases of my palms are flakes of ash. A silent scream escapes my throat as I glare down at them.

Because of my sudden outburst, hundreds if not thousands of in-betweeners come to me. Despite my efforts all of their own fear and pain and suffering bleeds into my head, making what I’m going through a million times worse. I hyperventilate while holding my hands far away from me. Just like sophomore year, hands begin stroking my exposed skin. I grind my teeth to trap the sob that bursts through my throat.

“Please go away,” I mumble. “I can’t do anything for you. Go away.” The hands and emotions stay persistent though. “I can’t help any of you. I can’t save your souls. Please, please, please go away. Please-” my head lulls to the side slowly when my breathing becomes too short. Achingly I fall backward and onto my bed when my breathing stops completely from having such a severe panic attack, allowing me to fall back asleep.

Hours later I wake to the shining sun bouncing into my room. I have to squint my eyes because of such an extremely bright sunrise. After I few minute of adjusting to the light I yawn and stretch out on the bed, running my hands through my tangled hair and across my messy comforter. Something weighs down on the mattress next to me but I just figure it’s Max. Smiling to myself I turn around on my bed and run and drop my arms around him, finding comfort in the fact that he stayed throughout the night.

“Max,” I begin to wearily open my eyes, “you’re such a good-” my words get caught in my throat when I find myself staring right at a sleeping boy who had covered himself in my sheets. My mouth drops open and I stare at him blankly for a moment, unsure of what I do in a scenario such as this. My heart skips a beat when his eyes crack open, forcing me to realize this is actually happening. He stares at me tiredly, obviously still unable to differentiate reality from his dream. My heartbeat picks up again and I can’t help the frightened shriek of horror I let out right next to his ear.

And god, if he wasn’t awake before then he is now.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed and as always if you’d like to be tagged in series please send an ask to me or leave a comment! Requests are open! ❤️💛💙❤️💛💙

Tag List

| @isabella212 | @holyhumorliteraturelight | @hamiltrin | @why-am-I-here-again-shitheads | @tom-holland-imagines-are-us | @ohdamnerons |

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker soulmate au #spiderman #spider man #spiderman imagine #spiderman fanfiction #spider man homecoming #peter parker slow burn #spiderman slow burn #slow burn #slow burn imagine #imagine fanfiction #spider man imagine #mcu imagine #infinity war #infinity war spoilers #the avengers infinity war #iw #aiw spoilers #spoilers #iw spoiler #spiderman x reader #reader #spider man x reader #tom holland x reader #readers perspective #enhanced reader

[artsietango]

Metal: Chapter 1 (Part 1)

Original Work

Subject: Space

Word Count: 1394

Author’s Note: This is technically a rough draft because I only made small edits when transferring this chapter from my notebook to my computer. If you have any questions please shoot me an ask! Character references can be found here.

Tom would never have noticed the intercom had turned on if Joleen hadn’t yelled at him.

“Tech!”

Jumping, Tom lifted his eyes from the circuit board he was working on to glare at the monitor behind him.

“What?” He snapped. He didn’t like being interrupted like that, especially when he was so close to finishing a technical project. Joleen rolled her eyes, saying,

“Mother needs you.” Tom set down his circuit board and screwdriver, muttering complaints under his breath as he fastened his tool-belt and walked out of his workroom, the monitor shutting off as he left.

He jumped into the Workshop, skipping the two steps into the lower level. Though there were no walls except for the surrounding walls of the Underbelly, the three main divisions were separated by levels. Level 3, near the back of the ship, housed the Technical Division, run by Tom and his assistant, Charlotte. Level 2 was the Workshop, which was split into two subdivisions; Forge and Assembly. These two divisions were kept separate by being on opposite sides of the room. And finally, Level 1 was Controls, holding the subdivisions Radio and Flight Captain, where Tom was on his way now.

As Tom reached the stairs descending into Level 1, he said,

“DJ called me down here. Are we having another problem with Mother Skipper?” Chris, Metal’s Flight Captain, also known as ‘Skipper’, turned and smiled sheepishly at Tom.

“Yeah, just a slight glitch with the data readers.” Tom just grunted and laid on the floor, scooting under the control deck. As he fidgeted with the wires, Chris asked,

“Is it fixable?”

“Oh yeah, easy as pie. Well, more like no-bake cookies. But at any rate, nothing too big.” Tom replied. Chris gave a small sigh of relief.

“That’s good. Sorry we interrupted you.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I just wish ol’ Mother would self correct.”

“Yeah, well, you can’t have everything.” Chris replied. Tom replied with an ‘aha’, before snapping the wire panel back into place.

“There, that should do it.” He said, sliding out and sitting up. Chris awarded him with a big smile.

“Awesome. Thanks Tech. Sorry again about this hunk of junk.”

“Hey, that’s why the ship’s called Metal. One of the first, one of the oldest. It’s had worse problems, believe me.” Chris just shook his head as if he didn’t believe Mother would still be in space if she had had bigger problems before turning back to the controls.

As Tom skipped the steps up to Level 2, he gave a quick wave to Assembly and Forge. Only Tessa and Ben in Assembly noticed, smiling and waving back. It was probably best the Forgers, Pip and Damon, couldn’t see him anyways. Better to stay on task than burn a finger or two.

As Tom reached Tech Deck, as Level 3 was commonly referred to, he was met by his assistant, Charlotte.

“Hey, what’s up” He asked.

“Oh, not much,” She replied. “I’ve finished all my pending projects so far.”

“Well that’s good, I’m glad to hear it.” Tom said absentmindedly as he fiddled with his workroom door. Charlotte said,

“Yeah, and I also noticed the circuit board lying on your worktable.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking it might be fried.” He groused, glancing at her as he finally got the door open. “I hate that door jam.” Charlotte took a deep breath, ignoring his second comment.

“Actually, no, it’s not fried. As I passed by I noticed everything was correct except for where your wires were attached, so I swapped them.”

“Did you now?” Tom asked, picking up the circuit board and inspecting it, glancing back and forth between her and it. After a while, he said, “Well, everything looks in order. Now let’s just see if it passes the final test.”

Charlotte watched as Tom connected the wires to a monitor and popped it into the portable console. He clicked the power button, mumbling,

“If this works, I might give you more of these jobs.” Charlotte smiled excitedly at the prospect, though both of their eyes were on the monitor screen. The screen turned blue and the loading bar appeared, making Tom whisper,

“Aw yes, please work. Come on, please work.” They waited breathlessly for five minutes, praying that the loading bar would complete its task. When the computer finally booted, the automated voice said,

“Hello, how can I help you?” Charlotte and Tom both exhaled, cheering at their success.

“Thank God.” Charlotte said.

“You are brilliant Cupcake, and I could kiss you right now if I wasn’t so keen to try this out.” Tom declared, not realizing the affect his words had on Charlotte’s cheeks. Running his hands through his already rumpled ember hair, he said,

“Computer, pull up History of Metal.” The computer whirred, searching for his command before intoning;

Metal was the first ship of Earth’s Iron Fleet. Built by the America’s five years before the Earth’s collapse, NASA planned to launch it three years prior. Due to problems with the original model and the Mother computer system, they launched it two years before the collapse. At first there was overpopulation,-

“Yes, thank you Computer.” Tom said with slight irritation in his voice, glancing hurriedly at Charlotte to make sure she wasn’t suspicious. Seeing as she was nonplussed, he continued.

“Who was the Flight Captain at the time of Metal’s launch?” The computer whirred again before displaying the words and reciting;

Professor Davis Chotsky.

“What was his nickname?” Charlotte piped up.

“They didn’t have that kind of system, or camaraderie around here at that time. At that time, he was Flight Captain, and everyone was considered beneath him.” Tom answered. Charlotte grimaced.

“Jeez.” She said.

“Yeah,” He replied before turning his attention back to the computer. “Computer, who is the current Flight Captain of Metal?” The computer took a minute to think before replying.

Captain Miles Davies.

“No no no no no no.” Tom groaned, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. Charlotte watched as Tom stomped over to the wall monitor behind him, slamming on the intercom button.

“DJ!” He snapped.

“What?” Joleen replied, appearing on the monitor and heaving an enormous sigh of exasperation.

“Get the Library Database on the line for me please.”

“On it.” As Tom waited, Charlotte asked,

“What was Captain Mile’s nickname?” Tom gave her a crooked half smile.

“Captain, because he ran a tight ship.”  She giggled at the joke before a sour looking lady came on the monitor.

“Mr. Lewis, can I help you?” She asked, her voice sounding stiff and official.

“Yes, Miss Marywhether, you can. If you look at your current events database, you’ll find that some of your information is outdated.” Tom replied, suddenly sounding very formal. He thanked his lucky stars that Charlotte didn’t notice how nervous he was about talking to the librarian in front of her.

“Could you tell me exactly what’s wrong with the information?” The reedy librarian asked piously.

“Well, ma’am, do you know who the Flight Captain of Metal is currently?” Tom asked.

“Of course I do. Chris Davies, Miles Davies’ son.”

“Yah-ha, and, um, what does your information say?”

Charlotte tried to stifle her laughter as the librarian turned a dark shade of pink as she read the error. Tom himself was having a hard time concealing his smug smile as Miss Marywhether replied curtly,

“Very well. I will fix this immediately. Thank you again, Mr. Lewis, for your impressive observance of other’s mistakes. Will that be all?” Tom scowled at Marywhether, snapping,

“Yes, that will be all, thank you.” Before he shut off the screen. He turned away from it to find Charlotte laughing quietly. and his glare melted into an amused look.

“What’s so funny?” He asked.

“It must-bug her immensely-that a sassy seventeen year old-is better at her job-than she is!” She replied between giggles. Tom chuckled along with her.

“Oh it does. Her face shade depends on how big the error I’ve pointed out is.” They both laughed a while before the dinner buzzer rang, and Joleen’s last words to the world of Metal rang through the Underbelly.

“Well folks, it is thirty past nine, and time for me to sign off. We hope you’ve enjoyed listening to the program, and we hope to see you bright and early tomorrow morning. This is Joleen Anderson, and you’re listening to IFBS.”

Tag list: @softlybrrahs

#METAL #my writing #my ocs #Tom #Charlette #Joleen #DJ #Tech #Cupcake