#but there is enough unknowns for my anxiety to be through the fucking roof okay
Note
Oh that’s rough. My roommate did something similar a few months ago with two stray cats that both had fleas and my dog lost her shit
I just found out
It’s a puppy
This man is bringing a puppy he got from god knows where with no warning when there’s already a senior dog that has NEVER BEEN AROUND A PUPPY IN HIS LIFE in our house.
Like my dog is normally completely uninterested in any other animals but like??? I don’t know for sure??? The last time he was around other dogs at all besides the vet he was a puppy???? And if something happens that’s my fault???? And I only get TWENTY MINUTES WARNING
#the elf talks#I mean he is fine with children and babies and completely uninterested in other animals so it will probably be fine#but there is enough unknowns for my anxiety to be through the fucking roof okay
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Your Nervousness - Kylo Ren x Reader
Warnings: angst ( talks of anxiety) fluff, some sexual references
-
The towering scenery of the planet Actlyon always intimidated you. As one of the many bases of the First Order throughout the galaxy, these was one of your least favorites. When asked what you hated about the planet, you could save them the time of a few hour conversation and just saying "everything". But as companion of Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, you have to put a lid on the subject and just deal with it.
It had been two weeks since you had seen Kylo. You were used to him being away for a long time, but he had never been gone this long. When you last saw Kylo, you were both in the control room of the Finalizer, watching as they determined where a small portion of the Resistance was, and the plan to destroy it. Instead, the Resistance caught wind of the First Order's presence, and escaped before any of the plan was put into place.
"All the better." Hux stated, " by fleeing, they'll lead us right to the Resistance."
You watched as Kylo walked past you, the Knights of Ren following suit. You immediately took after them, jogging just to keep up with the intimidating crew. You were not going to be just sideswiped by him.
"Master Ren!" you called out. Due to protocol with your high status of a prominent family of the galaxy, and your relationship with the Supreme Leader, you had to keep formality in public. But right now, you didn't know how this was going to play out, and it could've been the last time you would see Kylo ever again. Kylo continued his way down the hallway, ignoring you.
"Fuck it." you muttered under your breath , "Kylo!"
Kylo and his Knights came to a halt. He tuned to approach you, the Knights parting through the middle. His footsteps echoed through the cold, metallic hallway. Your boldness melted into obscurity as you weren't sure what was going to happen in the next few seconds. You could see your reflection in the visor of Kylo's helmet, taking note of the closeness between you two.
"Aren't..aren't you going to say goodbye before you go?" you said softly. "I don't know how long this is going to take."
Kylo stayed still, and the sudden bass of his voice startled you. "It won't be long at all, I assure you, (y/n)." That was complete bullshit, and you knew it.
Your eyes traveled down, knowing that meant it was going to be a long mission. Tears welled in your eyes. Kylo sensed your nervousness, hurting him to see you so worried of his departure.
"Hey," he murmured, his voice not loud enough for the vocoder to pick up. He lifted your head up with his hand, cusping your chin gently. "I will be back. In the mean time, I want you to be strong. For me please."
That was the last exchange of words before Kylo set off on his shuttle. You had received word from Hux that the shuttle was approaching Actlyon by evening, and with it, the Supreme Leader in one piece. Waiting was such a pain, and your anxiety was through the roof. You were so worried, you hadn't changed into your nightwear, still wearing the clothes you placed on since the early morning meeting with Actlyon First Order officials.
You jolted as your door buzzed. "Come in." you called out.
"Supreme Leader Ren is awaiting your presence in his office, my lady." the female officer announced.
You were so relieved you could've hug her. You quickly walked out, hurrying your steps to Kylo's office. As confusing as this starship was, Kylo's office was one of the few places that you knew exactly where it was. You approached the door, which was guarded by two Stormtroopers.
"The Supreme Leader has sent for me." you said, pushing past the guards. As the door closed behind you, you were standing in the small hallway, smoothing out yourself, emotionally and physically. Before you could open the door, Kylo beat you to it. Mask off and his clothes caked with substances unknown to you, Kylo looked like shit. He grabbed you and pulled you into his office.
Before you could get anything out, Kylo arms wrapped around your waist, picking you up and holding you tightly. Your arms wrapped around his neck, smiling that he was finally here with you. You held Kylo's face in your hands, kissing all over his face. Kylo's gloved hand gripped the back of your neck gently, moving his lips to yours. You melted into his kiss, feeling all the pent up anger and stress being released between you. You both pulled away, breathing heavily as Kylo rested his head on in the crook of your neck. The smell of burnt leather and fuel filled your nostrils, and should have repulsed you, but instead was very much welcomed.
"Why didn't you send me a message?" you mumbled, twirling your fingers in his long dark locks. "You had me worried for so long."
"Shh." he hushed you, "Let me just relax for a moment."
You nodded, scratching his head softly and slowly. That's all you needed to hear. Not long after did Kylo tell you how he and his Knights tracked down the Resistance, going from planet to planet, to city to city, until eventually they caught up with them, but to a dead end.
"And that's when we killed them." Kylo finished, sparing you the details of the Resistance spies gruesome deaths caused by the Knights and Kylo. You furrowed your brow in disappointment, hoping that Kylo would've spared them. Even after all this time that you both had been together, it still got to you that you were in a relationship with the mighty Kylo Ren, supreme leader of the First Order, and a killer feared by many.
Taking note of your troubled expression, Kylo brushed his hand over your cheek. You leaned yourself into his touch, placing your hand over his. A faint smile spread over the Supreme Leader's face. That was something you haven't seen in a while, and you would give up anything to see it a million times.
"Now, my love, its time for me to bombard you with questions." you said, getting out of Kylo's lap.
"Like what?" he scowled, leaning back into his chair.
"Have you ate today?" you asked, "have you showered, slept?"
Kylo sighed. "One at a time, (y/n). And no to any of them."
You chuckled. "Okay, that's all I needed to know."
While you ordered a meal to brought up, Kylo supported his head on his fist, watching you take care of him. He always loved to just look at you. And it could be you doing anything, from doing your makeup, to you getting angry over some small thing. To him, you were a walking piece of art, a masterpiece. A strong feeling of affection and love filled Kylo, almost like a fire was lit in his heart. It was like this ever since you and him met. There was never a dull moment, your relationship always filled with intense passion.
Kylo got out of his chair, walking over to you. As you made preperations for the night, you felt two hand snaked around your waist. Kylo placed his chin on your head, rocking you both back and forth slightly. The Kylo Ren that you saw was definitely not the one the galaxy feared.
"I love it when you order people around." he whispered in your ear. You giggled, interlocking your hand with his. "Come to my room tonight."
"Hmm, what for?" you teased, expecting to hear some raunchy responses.
"To sleep, obviously." Kylo replied.
"Ah, sure. To sleep." you said, air quoting. "Because that's all we do when I sleep over in your room."
"This time, I just want to sleep." he said. "I promise, my sweet." Kylo pulled back your hair to the side, exposing your neck. He placed kisses from your shoulder all the way up to your cheek, his soft lips causing goosebumps to spread all over your body.
"N-now, see this right here.."you whispered, your voice wavering from Kylo's teasing, "this is what I'm talking about."
"Just trust me. I want to sleep next to my wife, that's all." Kylo really knew how to reel you in, and you fell for it every time. Heat radiated off your face, burning your cheeks. "And if you would like, we could fuck all day tomorrow. I know that you have been wanting it as badly as I do. We both crave it. Would you like that, my sweet?"
And now, you knew for sure you were going to catch on fire.
Stars, it was so good to be home
-
"I'm beat." you said, yawning.
"How are you beat? You haven't done anything all day." Kylo teased nonchalantly as he dimmed down the lights in the bedroom.
"I waited for you, I cried for you, I even put up with Hux for you. So don't say I didn't do anything all day." you smiled, throwing your robe onto a chair.
"Yeah, sure." Kylo mumbled as he snuck himself underneath the black covers, watching as you brushed your hair thoroughly. You set the brush down, giving yourself a once over to make sure you looked alright.
"You're still beautiful. Come to bed." Kylo begged sleepily, laying on his side.
You blushed. "Alright, I'm coming."
Kylo held out the comforter as he always did. You laid right into his chest, his arms, along with the thick black comforter, engulfing you in darkness. The difference between Kylo's room and yours was definitely astounding, to say the least. You would think that the Supreme Leader's girlfriend could get some decent sheets, or maybe some more comfortable chairs.
You laid your arm around Kylo's torso, your leg wrapped between his. You closed your eyes, sighing peacefully. Kylo gave you one last kiss on your head, before turning over on his side. As betrayed as you felt, you needed some air from the sudden heat of another person and his thick ass comforter. It felt like forever laying down, and Kylo was out like a light.
But you were still wide awake. Thoughts swarmed your mind about multiple, worthless topics. Is there a guard at the door? What's Hux thinking right now? Matter of fact, what does Hux even do in his free time? Not like you cared, you just wonder if Hux had a life out of the First Order (which you concluded, he did not).
I want to sleep, you thought. And you kept thinking it, over and over, as if repeating it would inch yourself closer to some shut eye. You shifted positions, fluffed your pillow, counting backwards, forwards. Thinking of leaping fathiers could've helped.
But not one hint of sleepiness.
Eventually, you just said fuck it and got up. You carefully got up, as to not wake Kylo. You grabbed your robe and headed to the living area. You took your datapad, and flipped through the numerous events and special occasions that were coming up. You read up on the planets that you were to visit alongside Kylo, and their customs. Embarrassing yourself in front of Kylo was the last thing you needed, but knowing him, anyone who would point out your mistakes would be swiftly met with a blazing lightsaber.
You started planning your outfits and speeches while you heard shuffling from the other room. Looking up, you saw Kylo emerging from the bedroom. Rubbing his eyes, he looked at you as you continued working on your datapad.
"Its too early, starlight." Kylo said, crossing his arms.
"I couldn't sleep." you replied, meeting his gaze.
Kylo strolled over to the couch, and plopped down next to you. He placed his hand on your back, rubbing small circles. "You're stressed. I can feel it."
You hummed in response. "I am."
"Tell me why." Kylo murmured. He gently took the datapad out of your hand, placing it on the other side of him. "What's stressing you out?"
You shrugged, honestly not sure what was stressing you out. You've had trouble with anxiety ever since you were a teen, but you weren't sure why you where it came from, and why you had it. It came out of nowhere, making minor situations into paranoia and doubtful thoughts in your mind. Sometimes, you had control over it, and other times, you let it run rampant. Right now, it was running everywhere it could reach.
You felt a small pressure on your head, knowing that Kylo was trying to read you through the Force. As much as it annoyed you when Kylo did that, you were glad he did it this time. It was hard putting into words what was bothering you, and this is exactly what was needed.
"Ah."
The pressure left from your head. The use of the Force by Kylo was more comforting than it was strange. For some reason, it was how you and him bonded. For prisoners, you couldn't say the same.
"Well?" You replied softly, "what's your diagnosis?"
One beat of silence. Two beats of silence. Finally, Kylo motioned you to come closer, taking a hold of your hand. "You're stressed about me."
"Of course." You replied, "we discussed this earlier." You intertwined your fingers between Kylo's, his palm sweaty.
"We did." He mumbled. "But there's a difference between hearing it and feeling it. I thought I really understood what you were feeling, but.." Kylo shrugged. "Fuck, I feel guilty."
"Why? Because I'm stressed about you?" You said, sitting up. You took Kylo's face in your hands, his eyes averting from your gaze. "Yes I do stress about you, but my love, please don't feel guilty. At all." Kylo quickly met your gaze, and looked away.
"I'm not just saying this to make you feel better, you know. I understood what was in store when you asked me to be yours, and I still keep it in mind. Always." Kylo eyes shot up to yours after hearing your voice crack. "But I always think you're going to leave, and never come back. T-that someone will hurt you, and I'm not there to save you. And that fear weighs on my conscious all the time, Kylo."
Your tears flowed down your cheeks, your soft sobs racking your body. He hated seeing you cry, and at every opportunity that you were going to, he would try his best to stop it immediately. But by doing just that, Kylo realized, while gazing in your pained eyes, that maybe that was one of the contributing factors to your stress.
This time, he was going to gladly welcome your emotions, and ease his starlight's anxiety.
"I-I'm sorry." You croaked, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Please don't be mad at me."
Kylo shook his head, facing you as he wiped your tears away with his hands. "I could never be mad at the one person who is my reason to fight."
You laughed softly. "You're bullshitting me."
The corners of Kylo's lips upturned into a sympathetic smile. "I've never lie to you, have I?"
You sat in his lap, your head on his chest, your eyes gazing up into Kylo's. "Not once."
Kylo stroked your hair, kissing your forehead. "Is there any way that maybe you could put me to sleep with the Force?" You asked, the lines between joking and actually asking blurred.
"That's not how the Force works." Kylo said. "So what I need you to do is sit here and relax."
"That sounds like you're trying to use the Force, it really does."
"I'm not. Please shut up."
You giggled, your chin resting on his shoulder. Kylo lazily traced his fingers on your back, your back muscles relaxing instantly. It wasn't the Force, but it sure did feel like it. Maybe that's how Kylo knew how to do this. How and when did he learn how to do this? Who help him, he didn't just read these techniques in a book, someone must've taught him but who-
"I can hear you. Loud and clear. No it's not the Force, and you taught me."
You patted his chest, letting him know you heard him. Kylo moved his hands to your hair, massaging the nape of your neck, up to your scalp. Tugging gently, scratching behind your ears, your busy continuing to melt into his. Your mind wandered into off into thoughtlessness, nothing to think about or to care about, except for one thing. One little piece, a message now ingrained into you, for you to carry from now on. That you were not alone in what you were feeling, and that someone will be there for you.
And that's what helped you finally drifted into a deep sleep.
"(Y/n)?" Kylo whispered, patting your back. Hearing your small snores, Kylo got up carefully, carrying you to your bedroom. Placing you gently in your spot, Kylo took the comforter and placed it on you. You grabbed ahold of the pillow, softly cradling it. Your face was so much at peace, compared to how you looked earlier. But it didn't matter to Kylo. Every face you shown each other had been a gift, and any emotion you had is better than no emotion.
Kylo quickly made his way to your side, slipping underneath the covers. You flipped yourself to face him, your noses just inches from each other. As Kylo closed his eyes, he wondered what brought him ease. It didn't take him long though, because it was right in front of him.
Over anything, above all everything, you were his peace. His relaxation. His purpose.
——
(A/N) Thank you guys for reading, it means a lot. I'm sorry I have not posted in a while, 2021 has definitely had a rough start for me and my family. I'm hoping for the rest of the year to have mercy on me and everyone else. This is going to be a bunch of one-shots that I'll make in between the Spike Spiegel x Reader fic chapters, which I know for sure another chapter is supposed to be out neeoow.
#kylo ren x y/n#kylo ren#kylo x you#ben solo#adam driver#star wars#rey#the force is strong with this one#the last jedi#general hux#lukeskywalker
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WITCHING HOUR, a sequel.
chapter one: genesis
word count: 5.8k
rating: m for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop, tags will be updated accordingly.
warnings: naughty language, religious blasphemy, cults amok, massively canon divergent (if you’re here then like...you know), body horror and horror in general, brainwashing, manipulation, you know the drill. john is himself, and thus: deserving of a warning. in this chapter specifically, brief mention, in passing, of mass suicide.
notes: hi friends! yes, i'm aware that this is a week early. i apologize. i wanted to get this chapter out while i had the thoughts in my head; not a lot of exciting stuff happens, most of it is just... setting things up for where we're going and where we're going to be, but i hope that you enjoy it nonetheless! thank you, of course, to my beta reader @starcrier; this chapter was in a lot rougher shape before she got to it. if you have the chance, please check out her writing--she is just absolutely incredible!
and thank you to everyone who did me the GREAT blessing of reviewing and supporting ancient names. i really can't believe i'm out here!! with people interested in what i have to say about this fucking nutso canon-divergent universe i am building! gosh i just hope y’all enjoy it. fun stuffs to come.
summary: —to fall like a wounded animal into a place that was meant for revelations.
there are many injustices that john seed will tolerate. the betrayal, and subsequent departure, of his wife and child is not one of them.
or: elliot honeysett just wants to live her life in quiet seclusion, and there's no way in hell that's happening.
“This is a very old story.”
It was cold, and dark, and the night stayed cloudy and moonless. As Helmi picked up the gun clasped between the two corpses, she glanced furtively in the brunette’s direction. Her gaze was impossible to read, the severe lines of her face accented only by the dim, flickering light of the neon sign; Kajsa had always looked like this, though, sharp like broken glass was, reflecting only and not taking anything in. Protected.
Helmi lifted her gaze back to the dead pair at her feet, up to the neon sign that blinked The Spread Eagle, and then down and stopping at the words written in dried blood on the paneling.
WRATH, DO YOU WANT TO BLOOM IN ME?
“You and me,” Kajsa murmured, and now it was her turn to watch. “Them. Eden’s Gate, and the Mother. All of it has happened before and will happen again.” She sighed, as though it troubled her, the dark arch of her brows pulling together to knit at the center of her forehead. With the only source of the light being the bar’s sign, her skin was an eerie, pallid red-and-blue, darting and worming across her expression. “We’ll turn this world into winter, Hel. The two of us.”
Helmi watched her for a long moment. “Kajsa—”
“Douse them.” She stuck her hands into the pockets of her sweater, turning and stepping over the two other dead bodies they had dragged from where they had been propped up against the wall. “I want this place in ashes by sunrise.”
“Yes.”
Kajsa didn’t wait for her to begin walking to the car, idling still a safe distance away. Helmi preferred it that way. For a few minutes—and that’s all it would take, really, to unlatch the canister lid and toss the gasoline over the bodies, against the paneling of the wall, atop the roof—she could turn her brain off, forget the way Kajsa’s eyes see straight through her, forget the bodies of her brothers and sisters as she tossed the match on them and watched the flame eat through the fuel.
Hungry. A beast. Like me, Helmi thought absently, as the flames licked at the sky, reaching reaching reaching. Watching them felt like watching the souls of her brothers and sisters reaching for the stars, carried away in wisps of foul-smelling smoke. She wondered, do they feel it now? Do they feel the sting, the burn? When their bodies haven’t been given to It, do they feel it all after?
“Come, Helmi,” Kajsa called from the car. “We have a long drive ahead of us.”
They had been at it for hours, this methodical and clinical extinguishing of bodies. Every spot that they had agreed and picked out on the map in such an instance was now blacked out. Burned. Their brothers and sisters had done what was expected of them, and for that, they would not be forced to rot—they would be turned to charcoal, to ash, only blood and bone spent.
Her feet carried her back to the car as the flames began to devour more than just flesh, crawling along the rooftop of the Spread Eagle and popping in the still, quiet night. Kajsa’s hand came up to her face and cradled her cheek, fixing her with those eyes: dark eyes, shades of gray and glassy, like a shark.
“Ingenting under solen är beständigt,” she said, the pad of her thumb brushing across Helmi’s cheekbone. For a second, the older woman almost looked like—well, looked like something, an unknown flicker of emotion crossing her face—but then it cleared.
Hel watched her curiously, waiting until the hand against her cheek dropped before she said, “I know, Kajsa.”
Kajsa nodded. Only once, short and brisk, the gesture as sharp as the lines of her face. “Make sure you do not forget.”
I won’t, Helmi thought, but did not say. Kajsa had never believed words before, and she would not start now. Helmi would just have to show her that she had not forgotten.
She looked back; the singeing of flesh fizzing in the air, the crackle of devouring flame whispering to her. A cleansing fire. Their bodies weren’t given to The Father, but they had given in another way, with their lives—in a way that still mattered.
“Kajsa,” Hel said, bringing the woman’s attention back to her, “do they feel it, still? The fire, when they’re gone?”
“Perhaps,” Kajsa replied, jaw absently working something wadded just in the hollow of her throat; words she wanted to say, and could not. Or would not. It was always hard to tell, with Kajsa. “It’s not for us to know. The after belongs only to the dead.” The dark-haired woman opened the driver’s side of the car, pulling her gloves off of her hands and tossing them inside. “Get in the car, Helmi. I want to keep track of that interloper.”
Interloper. The kinder of the words that what remained of them had been using for John Seed and his merry band of fuck-ups and patience-testers. Heretics, zealots, apostate—
The list was unending. Helmi wished she could run out of disdain, but she knew that she would not be able to. Sorrow and mourning for those they had lost came in absolutes, in fixed amounts, but the bitterness persisted. She swung into the passenger side of the car, shutting it against the smell of burning skin, and exhaled slowly through her nose.
Kajsa pulled the car away from the sight. Hopefully it would be just as the harbinger wished—by sunrise, Hope County would be leveled by fire and flame, nothing but ash and ruined structure left. If the scraps of Eden’s Gate didn’t try and douse it out. If they didn’t continue to interfere.
She glanced out the window to the sky. The tires of the car hit the highway, and Kajsa clicked the cruise control on, and as tendrils of smoke clung to the stars, the clouds parted and the light of the new moon filtered down. Just a sliver of her light, but cold and cruel and reliable all the same.
“It’s pleased,” Kajsa said lightly.
Hel made a low noise of agreement, closing her eyes as she leaned her head against the glass. “Are you?”
“Not yet,” the older woman murmured. When Hel glanced over at her, her eyes were fixed on the road; the headlights switched off, and in the far distance, she could see the tail lights of another vehicle glowing red as blood in the darkness. Seed, Hel thought through the haze of her exhaustion.
“But very soon, I will be.”
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
One Week Later
“Are you warm enough? Where’s your scarf? Elliot?”
The door was only inches away, and yet—somehow—she’d managed to not make it out without the barrage of questions that typically accompanied any of her departures. Taking in a soft breath, Elliot closed her eyes for a moment, leaving her hand on the door handle.
“I am sufficiently bundled,” she promised, turning to regard her mother, standing in the foyer. “I don’t need a scarf between the front porch and the car.”
“Scarf, please,” her mother murmured, deigning to set her martini glass down in order to pluck it off of the coat rack. Elliot watched the movement curiously—not because she had never seen her mother set aside an alcoholic beverage before, but because these days it seemed more often than not that she was beginning to slow down on them; a thing which Elliot never thought she would see. Part of it might have been the sudden upheaval of having her grown, child-carrying daughter and dog suddenly move in with her, and part of it may have just been, well, time—but either way, she didn’t think she could ask.
There were some things that were just better left unsaid.
“Okay,” Elliot relented tiredly. “I’ll wear the scarf.”
“It’s not just about you anymore, bunny.”
“I know, mama.”
“So wear the scarf—”
“I am,” she insisted irritably, making a great show of flinging the scarf around her neck. I know it’s not just about me, something prickly inside of her said, I fucking know, it’s never been about me, and it’s especially not about me now.
Scarlet eyed her for a moment, wary. This had been happening a lot more now, too—these odd, lingering looks her mother had begun to favor her with. It was the same way Sheriff Whitehorse had looked at her, and the same way Burke had looked at her that last time before she—
Well.
Forcing her tone to lightness, Elliot said, “Happy?”
“Hardly,” her mother replied tartly. “No reason to be spending time around horses in your delicate condition. And you’ve been so irritable as of late—”
“It’s supposed to be good for anxiety.” Elliot glossed over the additional barb blithely, years of muscle-memory kicking in now.
“Getting some sleep would help your anxiety.” Jab, jab, duck, her mother’s tell-tale movements, skittering across their conversation like so many little spiders. It had been so long before this that she’d nearly forgotten what it was like to be engaging in a constant verbal battle with someone who was supposed to love her.
That wasn’t necessarily true, either. She had plenty of experience ducking and parrying verbal punches from someone who claimed to love her, as of late.
“I don’t—” Puffing out a sharp breath through her nose, Elliot passed a hand over her face. Sleep had not been her friend, not before and certainly not now. Too many strange, unnerving dreams about handsome, blue-eyed men with flowers blooming out of their eyes for her liking. “I’m not taking medication that’s not prescribed to me, mama. Sorry. But it’s like you said, it’s not just about me anymore. Right?”
Scarlet picked up her martini glass, waving her hand as she turned to head back into the living room where the fire still glowed warm and hungry in the hearth. Yes, there was nothing she would have preferred more than to give in to the despair and apathy welling up inside of her, curl up under the blankets in her bedroom, safe and tucked away in a perfect bubble; but she couldn’t, because stronger than that apathy was an uneasiness, anxiety that vibrated just under her skin.
Not safe, it told her, during the day when she was trying to relax and at night when she was trying to sleep. Not safe, not us.
That was the real gut-punch of the whole thing. Before, the paranoia, the anxiety, the hyper-sensitivity—they had all been things that served a purpose. Her body had been ready for constant assault because she had been under constant assault. But now? Now, she was in bumfuck-nowhere Georgia, with no bills to pay, no job to maintain, only one task: be healthy, for baby. Be happy, and healthy, and do it for baby, because that was her only responsibility. She could no longer function as a single autonomous unit because she was not, by all intents and purposes, a single. Autonomous. Unit. And yet?
And yet.
And yet, the off switch was broken, somewhere in her brain. Broken, or locked behind bars, or somewhere that she couldn’t reach it. Her brain still liked to think she was under constant assault. And if Scarlet’s verbal fencing skills were anything to go by, maybe it was a fair judgment of the situation.
“...standing there for?” Scarlet asked from the couch, her voice filtering in through some strange fuzziness that had erupted in her brain.
“Just—thinking,” Elliot managed, forcing a smile onto her face. She could tell it fell flat from the way her mother regarded her, but she cleared her throat quickly and glanced at Boomer, waiting patiently by the door. “You gonna take care of mama, Boomer?”
“He certainly will not.”
“Protect the homestead.”
“Elliot—”
“He can’t come with me to the barn,” Elliot informed her mother primly. “He’ll be well-behaved here, I promise.”
Her mother’s lips pressed into a thin line. It was something that couldn’t be argued, Boomer’s manners, and so finally she said, “Just don’t be gone long, then.”
Nodding, Elliot opened the front door and slipped out, keys clutched in her hands. The first snowfall of the winter had hit; it was still fresh and powdery, crunching underfoot, and by the time she was carefully pulling out of the driveway, she had nearly forgotten about the strange static fuzz rattling around in her head.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Elliot lifts the glass of champagne to her mouth. Here, John can see the wedding band on her finger—gold and simple, for now. He’d promised her something nicer after things quieted down. She’d said, of course, that she didn’t need anything nicer; she was happy with the one she had. With him.
He thinks that she has never looked so beautiful, bathed in the romantic glow of fairy lights, hair pinned back and the white of the wedding dress dappling lace across her skin. And wearing the ring, of course.
I love you, he wants to say, but cannot. I love you so much, he wants to say, but does not; he watches her set the flute down on the table and he opens his mouth to say it. He has to tell her—she has to know, all of those things he had said, he didn’t mean them. He loves her. He has to tell her so that she can know.
John reaches for her and opens his mouth. She lets him take her face, lashes fluttering closed; when he tries to say it, when he wills the words out of his lungs, he is choking, choking, choking, the sickening scent of flowers rushing over him and he heaves.
The petals spill from his mouth. They tumble to the ground between them. You’re mine, he wants to say, I love you, but the petals choke him on their way out, billowing out from his lungs and tripping on their way out of him, blowing out in gorgeous baby-soft puffs that leave his throat shredded from the inside out.
His hands find her shoulders. He clutches her, because he can’t breathe—there are too many of them, these flowers, each labored attempt at breath making it worse. He’s choking, and Elliot grabs his face with her hands as he struggles to keep his eyes open.
She shoves her fingers into his mouth, packing the petals against the back of his throat, and he can’t breathe, and she says—
“I told you that you couldn’t have both.”
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John jolted awake, the sound of the alarm on his phone echoing in the tight space of his car. The dream lingered, stuck somewhere in the back of his throat and on his ribs like a heavy meal yet to be digested. It took a few blinks for him to really gather himself, remember where he was, who he was, what it was he had been doing. It felt like he could still taste the petals in his mouth.
Wicked devil, he thought tiredly, the image of Elliot looking down at him—wretched, and unyielding, as he choked to death—burned behind his eyelids. Even in my dreams, you’re ungrateful.
On his way out of Hope County, he’d dropped the Eden’s Gate truck for some poor shmuck’s sedan. It certainly wasn’t the kind of car he was used to driving in, and not for long periods of time, but he couldn’t risk a cop tagging his plates and finding out that the car was owned by him.
Not that he thought news of what had happened in Hope County had reached anyone yet. The government had their hands full as it was, he was sure—if the news on the radio had anything to say about it, anyway—so he imagined that the extraction of a few “criminals” out of Hope County, Montana had hit the backburner.
Passing a hand over his face tiredly, John tossed the book he’d fallen asleep reading onto the passenger seat and shut the alarm off on his phone. The book joined a collection of others, the titles including but not limited to Unconditional Parenting, The Whole-Brain Child, and other such riveting pieces, set to guide him along the path of parenthood.
He had been in Weyfield for three days; finding Elliot’s ancestral home hadn’t been hard, considering there were only a handful of houses that said rich by their exterior, and fewer less of those that looked to have been constructed so many years ago. In fact, the house that he had narrowed down looked the epitome of a wealthy Southerner’s ancient household; big front columns binding the two-story structure together, a sweeping front porch, and what he could only assume was a painstakingly-maintained garden when it wasn’t covered in a healthy foot of snow.
But more than that—more than the house, and the snow, and the stupid, shitty car he’d been living in for the last week—was Elliot.
His sleep schedule was fucked up because her sleep schedule was fucked up. He’d only caught glimpses of her through the windows, on occasion, and as much as he wanted to go charging into that house and demand she come back to Hope County with him, John knew he had to go about this very carefully. Elliot had willfully left him to be arrested, and she had willfully lied to him, and she had willfully and spitefully informed him of her pregnancy, and that meant that there were too many factors for him to think he could just breeze in and out. He was going to have to be diligent about everything—and that meant learning as much as he could before she figured out he was there.
It made him feel psychotic. It made him feel like a madman, but he supposed that was to be expected. That’s amore.
He had figured out precisely three things since his arrival in Weyfield: Elliot was staying with a woman he could only presume to be her mother, she had yet to make any friends, and she wasn’t sleeping. Every single night—or morning—she was up, moving around on the second floor and sometimes the first. It was nearly Christmas, now, which meant that she had to be at least nearly five weeks. What was she doing, up and about all hours of the night?
Now, watching Elliot haul herself into the jeep, bundled up and puffing hot air onto her hands, he thought, where are you going without the beast, huh? Haven’t seen you spend a second away from him.
John watched the car pull carefully out of the driveway and then head down the road. He’d been parked beneath the cover of a snowy row of cedars, the air inside as cold as outside by the time he’d woken out of his tenuous sleep. Now, as the sight of the dark Jeep disappeared down the residential lane and turned onto the street that would take her out to the country, he turned the key in the ignition.
The car came to life with a shuddering groan. It took a few tries to dig himself out of the fresh snowfall, tires skidding and the orange light reminding him—time and time again—that the tires were having a hard time. Thanks, you piece of shit, he thought tiredly, finally pulling out of the little ditch and setting off down the road. He let a few cars go ahead of him before he turned down the same street Elliot had, driving until the houses became fewer and fewer and it was more pastureland; three cars ahead, he saw Elliot pull down a long drive that wound for an eternity until a...barn?
A fucking stable?
“What the fuck,” he said under his breath, sighing. He should have known—of course she’d find some reason to spend her afternoon around stinking animals. Was that safe for her to be doing? Being around horses?
He pulled a slow u-turn and found a turn out at the top of the hill—close enough to see when she was leaving, but not close enough that he could be seen if she was pulling out. As soon as he shut the car off, the engine ticking as it cooled, John settled back against the seat and let out a long, suffering breath.
Well. He supposed that she should have been grateful she wasn’t leading a particularly exciting life, but he wouldn’t have minded something a little more exciting than this. Something more than staying holed up in her mother’s home—something which he was sure she did not enjoy, if the way she had spoken of her mother before had been any indication—or the occasional walk down the lane with the hound.
It didn’t matter, in the end. Once he felt confident he knew what was going on, once John had figured out what exactly he was up against when it came to fetching Elliot from this Stepford nightmare of a back-water-nobody-town, he’d get a couple of extra resources gathered and snag Elliot hook, line, and sinker.
But first, he would just have to wait.
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It was pretty easy to find a place that wanted someone to come and brush their horses for free. Elliot had called around to a few places at the behest of her doctor, who had been displeased when she explained no, she did not want to speak to a therapist, but yes, she would take the suggestion of seeking out other avenues of emotional healing.
I’m going to be frank with you, Miss Honeysett, the doctor had said, her voice stern, you can’t keep going the way you are. Stress is bad for babies, let alone post-traumatic stress.
Elliot had fervently nodded her head and explained that yes, she understood, and yes, she would make sure to find a place to relax and destress. And that was how she ended up here the first few times, and now standing in a stall, bringing a brush slowly over the shiny gold coat of a palomino that stood by idly while she fumbled herself through the motions. She had spent a lot of time around horses before, back when she was a kid—back when her grandfather still had his own little mini stable. After he’d died, the horses had of course been sold, even though Elliot had begged her mother to let her keep just one of them.
“They’re racehorses, Elliot, not show ponies,” her mother had snipped, all those years ago. “What are you going to do with a racehorse?”
Run, she’d thought then. Run and run and run, as far as he’ll take me, and we’ll camp out under the stars and then we’ll run some more until no one can find me ever again.
That had been a dream, of course. Now she only had her two legs to carry her wherever she wanted to go, and they had served her pretty well.
“Been around horses before?” someone asked lightly from the stall door. “Before the last couple of times you’ve been here, I mean.”
Elliot’s gaze flickered, snapped out of her thoughts—out of that girl she had been so many years ago—and landed on the same young woman that had gone through all of her paperwork and given her the run-down. Her name was...Sarah? No, it was something else. Something with an S. She was pretty; dark honey-blonde hair swept up into a ponytail, her face pretty enough to be woman and round enough to make that woman look angelic.
“A long time ago,” Elliot admitted sheepishly, her fingers braided into the palomino’s mane as she worked the kinks out of it. “When I was little.”
“Ah,” the woman said, smiling. “It’s sort of like riding a bicycle. How come you aren’t riding?”
“My doctor said not to.” She paused, because that sounded suspicious, and then said, “And anyway, I’d be making a fool out of myself.”
“Everyone makes a fool out of themselves the first time around, even after a long time. But of course, we want you safe,” the blonde replied somberly, but a smile still ticked the corners of her mouth. When she shifted, Elliot could see that her name tag said Sylvia W. “Hey, you’re Honeysett’s kid, aren’t you?”
Ellliot stifled a groan. She had made it through precisely two interactions without someone bringing up her mother in the entire time that she’d been back in Weyfield, and she had been hoping to make this a third. Glancing over at Sylvia’s curious expression, Elliot managed out as politely as she could, “Yes, that’s me.”
“Your mama called,” Sylvia explained amusedly. “Wanted to make sure you got here without problems.”
I’m twenty-six. “Ugh.”
“It’s cute, but she’s...” Sylvia’s gaze flickered while she tried to come up with a word. And then: “Strong.”
A quick, sharp laugh billowed out of her, unexpected, because the idea of someone calling her mother strong was absurd—not because she wasn’t, but because so many other words came to mind before the word ‘strong’ did. Elliot stifled the second laugh that tried to bubble up out of her, and Sylvia grinned.
“Take it that’s not the first impression people get of your mama?”
“No, Sylvia, it certainly is not.”
“Via is fine,” the blonde corrected, not unkindly. After a second, of quiet introspection, she continued, “If you ever wanna get out of your house, my brother and I go to that bar in town—you know, the uh.... Wild Rose? They do trivia night every Thursday. Winner gets fifty bucks.”
“Wow,” Elliot said without thinking, “a whole fifty dollars? To split between the three of us, huh?”
Via flashed a grin. “I knew you had a sense of humor.”
The words caught something funny in her chest, hooking into her all of a sudden. Reminding her that once, she had been funny—once, she’d had friends. Once, she’d had this kind of rapport with—
Shut the fuck up, she thought to herself, viciously, if you wallow every time you think about that fuckface you’re never going to get anywhere.
“So?” Via prompted. “What do you think? Want to be our third?”
“I’m—that’s really nice of you,” Elliot managed out. “I think this week I’ll have to pass. If you think my mama’s strong over the phone, just imagine her in person and five drinks in.”
The blonde grimaced. “Fair enough. But, invite’s always extended, alright?”
“Thanks, Sy—Via.” Elliot corrected herself, earning a quick, playful wink from Sylvia before she disappeared down the hall to resume her duties. She finished brushing the old brute; on occasion he’d twist his head back to bump the dark velvet of his nose against her side, reminding her that he was there and appreciated her.
She finished up the last of the brushing and then dumped her things in the bucket before she carried it out. The last few times she had been here had passed in much the same way—and now that she thought about it, hadn’t Via offered the trivia night thing to her before? Or was she just imagining things?
“Need sleep,” she murmured to no one in particular, depositing her bucket and brushing her hands against her jeans before sliding her coat on. When she had signed herself out on the sheet and stepped out into the late afternoon, the sun had already gone down; it left the world terribly blue, the sky blue and the snow blue-tinted, like someone had slapped a dim neon light over the sun.
Elliot puffed a hot breath of air out, fishing around for her keys and unlocking the car. As her gaze swept absently over the landscape, she spotted a car parked at a pull-out just up the hill. From where she was, it was hard to see—perhaps nearly impossible—and she wouldn’t have noticed if—
If she wasn’t so concerned about seeing a face that was too familiar. Burke, even, would be an unwelcome addition to her life in Weyfield. She tried to stuff down her paranoia; someone was surely just parked while they were sending a text, or making a phone call, or...
Or, they’re watching you, something inside of her said. She ducked into the driver’s side of the car, cranking the heater, but no amount of hot air washed the voice away. Maybe they’re watching you and waiting to arrest you. Or, maybe it’s—
But it couldn’t be. Because the Seeds were in Federal custody, and that meant they weren’t her problem anymore.
Elliot pulled out of the yard, and then carefully onto the highway, checking her mirror every now and then as she drove the short distance home. Just to be sure. Just to be safe. Someone else pulled out of the stable yard, behind her, and then cresting over the hill came a car that might have been the same one that was parked, and maybe wasn’t, because she hadn’t been able to see the make and model, but if it was, then she would have to make some extra turns on her way home, and...
“No,” she said, firmly. “It’s no one. It’s nothing. Just traffic. Other people live here too, you idiot.”
The remainder of the drive was spent forcing herself to keep her eyes on the road and only checking her mirrors when polite driving protocol called for it. After all of that fussing she’d done, she was the only one pulling down the road to her house, and even when she waited in the driveway for a few minutes, nobody followed. No headlights. No strange, dark cars. No monsters to haunt the corners of her vision.
“You’re late,” her mother called from the kitchen when she stepped inside, shaking the snow out of her hair and shrugging out of her coat.
“Traffic,” Elliot lied without thinking. God, had she always been such a wretched liar? Surely not, right? “Smells good, mama.”
“I should hope so. I slaved over it.”
Elliotshot her mother a dry look, taking a bowl out of the cupboard and beginning to scoop the stew Scarlet had made into it. Boomer waited patiently in the doorway of the kitchen—no dogs allowed rule vehemently obeyed—and when Elliot picked two pieces of bread out of the basket on the counter, still warm, her mother said, “How were the horses?”
She paused in the doorway. The stairs to the second floor, and the subsequent peace and quiet, were just there. “Good,” she replied after a moment, inching toward the doorway. “Polite. I—made a friend.”
Scarlet looked up from the book she’d been reading, eyes narrowing. “A horse friend?”
“No, a—a person!”
“Mm.” Scarlet looked back at her book. “Just be careful who you associate with, Elli, you never know who has a reputation here.”
“But you do.” Elliot’s foot hit the first bottom stair. “I’m relying on you to watch my back. Thank you for dinner.”
Before her mother could ask her where she thought she was going—“Taking food up to your room, Elliot? What are you, nine?”—she had fled up them, Boomer trailing after her until she had the bedroom door safely closed and locked with a breath of relief sweeping out of her. Every interaction was like that; wondering if she was going to make a misstep, drag herself into an argument that she didn’t want to have and which she would only be able to escape if she acquiesced and admitted that her mother was right.
Splitting one of the pieces of bread in half, she tossed it to Boomer and kicked her shoes off. He chomped happily, tail brushing against the floor. Elliot ate her dinner with the dim, low volume of the TV playing in the background, until half of her soup was gone and she had curled up under the blankets. It wasn’t until the Heeler burrowed into the blankets next to her, pressed against her side, that she finally felt the dredges of exhaustion begin to pull at her.
The sleeping pills her mother had given to her sat on her bedside table, still untouched. I don’t need them, she thought, shutting the tv off and the lights with it. I don’t need them to sleep.
I’m just fine.
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Night fell heavy, quiet and cold. By the time the late hours had passed and early morning was beginning to roll around—the kind of early where the world still slept—Elliot found herself standing in the hallway.
She blinked tiredly. She was still in her jeans; she’d neglected to change. Her hands were on the banister, and below her the living room stretched, long and only dimly lit, effused by the glow of the night lights peppered throughout the house. How did she get here? Had she slept walk? What had woken her?
Slowly, and then all at once, the sound of static drifting from the cracked door of her bedroom registered in her brain. The television was on; that must have been what had woken her. Elliot stood for a minute longer, trying to collect herself, trying to see if she was still dreaming, and then pushed the door to her bedroom open.
Boomer was snoozing quietly on the bed still. The telvision’s channel flickered static once, twice, and when Elliot reached for the remote, the static flipped again and the screen went black.
Not powered-off black. Just—a black screen, still backlit, empty.
White text blinked onto the screen.
HAVE YOU BEEN HAVING STRANGE DREAMS?
Elliot felt her stomach flip. The text blinked out, and then blinked back on, and then stayed. Her heart thudded aggressively against her rib cage, demanding—out out out, it said, desperate for a reprieve from this sudden chill spilling down her spine. She reached blindly, no longer sure where the remote was, when the text blinked again.
HAVE YOU BEEN HAVING STRANGE DREAMS?
No, she thought furiously, even though she knew it wasn’t true and that it didn’t matter. Whatever kind of strange late-night programming this was—and that’s what it had to be—wasn’t going to give her a response and certainly wasn’t waiting for one. She would just need to—
HAVE YOU BEEN HAVING STRANGE DREAMS?
Elliot’s fingers gripped the remote and she pressed her finger feverishly, missing the power button once, twice, and then a third time before she finally hit it and the television clicked off. Her hands were shaking; her whole body was shaking, and she quickly crawled back under the covers until Boomer was whuffling, tired and inquisitive, against her face. Her fingers knotted in his fur and she closed her eyes tight.
Even when they were closed, she saw the words, burned behind her eyelids. The inner strength to stay like that only lasted for another few minutes before she grabbed the bottle of sleeping pills and took one, swallowing it down dry and then dropping the container back on to her nightstand.
She would sleep. She would sleep, and forget about the strange commercial, and she would get her fucking life together.
In the morning. After sleep.
No strange dreams, she thought, not for me.
Not anymore.
#fic: witching hour#my writing#far cry 5 fic#john seed/f!deputy#fc5 fic#john seed x f!deputy#ch: elliot honeysett#ch: john seed#i really do be out here dropping the first chap a week ahead of schedule#i'm sorry#my posting is unreliable#i can never stick to a schedule#pls forgive me#otp: death keep off; i am your enemy
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Before you read, here’s the previous chapter. New? Start from the beginning!
Skyward
Ao3
Chapter 2: Orphans Gotta Stick Together
Something soft and feathery embraced Ochako as she slowly rose into consciousness. As she groaned and rolled her head to the side, her sleep-addled mind wondered if she’d plummeted into a cloud and become buoyed by its fluffy, pillowy surface. Was she miles up in the sky, dozing on the white cloud with the endless blue stretching all around her? She could feel sunlight dancing on her skin and warming her arms. She reached out to chase rays of light as her eyes fluttered halfway open, feeling for a moment that perhaps the terrifying ordeal in the airship had all been a long, grueling nightmare…
She was not greeted with the familiar sound of the mountain birds tweeting, nor the gentle brays of her yaks drifting from the nearby barn. Instead, wind whistled in through an open window to flutter the thick blue-black curtains framing the sill, carrying with it the excited yips and howls of distant dogs and the cawing of buzzards. She knitted her eyebrows in confusion; there were no dogs on her farm, nor buzzards in the mountain valley in which it was nestled. As her mind swirled in confusion, she realized that this was not her bed, not her bedroom, and not her house.
Her arm flopped down against the side of the bed, bouncing off the soft mattress before falling still. Had she truly fallen from the airship? She must have, for how else could she have ended up in a stranger's bed? Had Tomura somehow rescued her from the terrifying plummet, or the pirates, perhaps? She groaned, reaching up to rub at her aching eyes with the heels of her palms. After a minute or so of falling headfirst through the open air, she’d lost consciousness out of a combination of fright and difficulty breathing in her freefall.
Frightened tears sprung to the corners of her eyes as she lay there in the bed. The last twenty-four hours were a scary whirlwind of emotions; plucked from her farm and spirited away to somewhere unknown while evil government men and pirates lusted after her family heirloom for unknown reasons. As much as she wanted to sit there and bawl her eyes out,, she forced herself to dry her tears and get out of the bed. For better or for worse, she had to discover who rescued her after she fell from the sky.
She walked to the window and peered out, curious as to where she was. She was greeted with the yellow-brown expanse of a canyon cliff, sharp bluffs carved into the surface of rock with a village clustered alongside the large train track system running the sandy bottom. The buildings even clung to the canyon walls, linked by small stone pathways. The house she was in was nestled on a grassy hill on the top of the canyon, with a winding well-worn path tracing down to the distant city. Skinny, short-haired dogs pranced in the yard chasing around buzzards who were picking at some unknown carcass by the shed.
“A canyon mining town…” she realized in wonder. She knew of the mining settlements on the other side of the mountains, but it amazed her that the airship had traveled so far in just one night.
As Ochako pulled away from the window, the mouthwatering aroma of eggs and bacon wafted into her nose. She salivated immediately; she hadn’t eaten until the previous night, and peckishly because anxiety had nearly torn her stomach apart. Though she was nervous to discover who had saved her, hunger guided her; she eased out of the bedroom and tip-toed down the stairs, peering around the landing into the kitchen.
A blush immediately bloomed on her cheeks. A tall, muscular boy about her age stood at a small stove, a hand on his hip as he used a spatula to flip some fried eggs and sizzling bacon in a skillet. He was incredibly handsome, with poofy ash-blond hair and strictly vermilion eyes just visible underneath his bangs. He was dressed in some black work pants, a white cotton shirt, and a brown vest. So handsome, she thought with a shy smile. Had this cute boy saved her?
“You gonna just stand there, Cheeks?” he said suddenly, glancing at her with a frown. Ochako squeaked and straightened like a rod; his expression and voice were fierce, sending an electrical impulse through every nerve in her body because oh my , it was so strangely attractive! Obediently, she skittered off the stairs and into the kitchen with a face as red as the apples resting on his kitchen counter. He gave her a once-over, then snorted and went back to his cooking.
“You’re not hurt, are ya?”
“N-no!” She had a small headache that she attributed to falling from the airship, but otherwise, she was remarkably unharmed. She fisted the skirt of her dress nervously, trying not to watch his arm muscles flex as he scraped at the grease simmering on the bottom of the skillet. “Did you… Did you save me?”
“If yer askin’ if I caught you when you fell, yeah,” he responded simply, “though I wouldn’t call it savin’ . You came floating down from the sky.”
“Floating?” Last she recalled, she had been in a freefall. How did she end up floating ?
The boy snorted as he switched off the stove, leaving the eggs and bacon to sizzle in the pan. She squeaked when he suddenly marched over to her, leaning down to squint suspiciously at her necklace. It glittered around her neck, the pink opaline surface gleaming in the moonlight.
“Yeah. This necklace o’ yours was glowing and making you all floaty-like.” He frowned. His eyes flickered up to meet hers, making the heat rekindle in her cheeks just as it had begun to fade. “Lemme see it.”
“Wh-what? This is a family heirloom; I don’t think I should—”
“Relax, Cheeks, I ain’t gonna steal it. I just wanna test somethin’ real quick. I’ll give it back,” he asserted, holding out his hand demandingly. Ochako was uncertain, but it didn’t seem this boy was related to either Tomura or the pirates. Besides, she was curious about the strange magical power the necklace supposedly possessed. Reluctantly, she unclasped the necklace and dropped it into his hand. His fingers immediately closed around it, the silver chain swinging as he clutched it in his hand and pushed past her to begin walking up the stairs. She scurried after him, dress swishing around her legs.
“W-wait, what are you doing?” He ignored her as he marched up the two flights of stairs to the small peak of the house, exiting out an open square window onto the flat roof. Ochako shimmied out after him, on her hands and knees on the shingles while watching him stomp over to the edge of the roof. He secured the necklace around his neck, swung his arms a little in preparation, and then jumped off the edge of the roof.
“Oh my gosh!” Ochako screamed in alarm as the crown of his head disappeared from sight. She then cringed as a loud crash immediately followed. She scrambled across the roof on all fours, the rapid pitter-patter of her hands and knees joining the sound of crumbling bricks and loud curses.
“Are you okay?” she called when she peered over the edge of the roof. Far below, there was a hole through the roof of a small room. Dust rained down and a few bricks dislodged from the loose structure to clunk down into the already large pile in which her savior was sprawled. The boy just cursed loudly in response.
“Damn it! That fucking hurt !”
“Just wait! I’ll come down to help you!” she shouted and turned around so she could slip down. She carefully picked her way across, but when she approached the edge of the hole, the loose brick gave way under her feet. She screamed as she fell into the open air. Shouting, the boy lunged forward, attempting to catch her in his large arms, using his body to shield her fall. He grunted as her behind collided right with his face.
“I’m so sorry!” she wailed in embarrassment and hurriedly crawled off of him. He groaned, rolling his head in the brick while rubbing his nose.
“Damn, Cheeks… The fuck you so heavy for?”
“Excuse me?” she gasped in affront. “And my name isn’t ‘Cheeks’! It’s Ochako!” As soon as he sat up and unclasped the necklace, she snatched it and went to put it back on. However, her fingers shook with the anger and embarrassment thrumming through her body. After watching her struggle for a few seconds, the boy snorted and slapped her fingers away so he could secure it for her. Scandalized as she was, she couldn’t help but flush at the feeling of his calloused fingers skimming over the skin of her neck.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly get a chance to ask your unconscious ass your name,” he huffed. Such a pottymouth… Why did that make her heart flutter? He smoothed down her hair once he finished clasping the necklace, then stood up, balancing himself on the destroyed brick. “Damn it… The necklace didn’t work and now I gotta a fuckin’ hole in my roof!” he groused. He ran his fingers through his hair, shaking out the dust, before offering her a hand. “You all right, Cheeks?”
“Yes,” she said, simmering down after all the excitement. It looks like he’s going to keep calling me that nickname. She took his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. She clutched it as he guided her down the precarious, continuously shifting pile of brick. Once her feet were flat on the ground, she brushed the brick dust off the skirt of her dress and smiled. “Thank you. This is the second time you’ve caught me.”
“Don’t know why you’re makin’ a habit of it. My name’s Katsuki, by the way.” He dusted himself off as well, scowling as the particles rained out of his ash-blond hair. “Ugh… Well, that’s enough excitement for the day. You hungry?”
“Oh, yes!” With all the commotion, she’d forgotten about the savory breakfast that the boy had been preparing. Her stomach gnawed at her belly, determined to begin tearing her apart if it wasn’t granted nourishment soon. Katsuki guided her back into the kitchen and prepared a plate, slapping a sunny-side-up egg and two thick slices of bacon onto the tin plate. While Ochako sat at the small table, he turned to make his own; by the time he sat down across from her, Ochako had wolfed down everything and was licking the yolk off the metal plate.
“Damn. You were hungry,” he chuckled, making her stop mid-lick and blush. Trying to regain some sense of dignity, she set the plate down and cleared her throat.
“Yes… I haven’t eaten much since…” Nervously, she fingered her necklace, unsure of how much to reveal to him. Katsuki eyed her suspiciously, crunching on the bacon. He did save me, so he at least deserves to know how dangerous it is to have me here. Maybe he’ll send me away… She found herself scared at that, being abandoned in a foreign town, but she wouldn’t blame Katsuki if he acted in the interest of self-preservation. “... Since the men came and took me away.”
“Wait, wait, wait—you were kidnapped ?”
“Yes. A man named Tomura came with the military and took me away from my farm, though they wouldn’t tell me why. I live alone, and so I was frightened… We were traveling in an airship and last night, pirates attacked us!” she revealed, drawing up her body as if to defend herself from the thoughts alone. “When I was trying to escape, I fell...”
“And I found you floating down from the sky.” Katsuki frowned deeply. She could see him trying to put the strange riddle together. Ochako knew that the military and pirates were both after her necklace for some strange reason. Her mother had always insisted that she never show it to anyone, and for most of her life, it had been kept a secret, locked away in a hidden compartment in their fireplace. It had only been worn for special ceremonies. After her parents’ death, she’d taken to wearing it as a reminder of them.
I don’t want to trouble Katsuki. Both the pirates and Tomura will be searching for me… I should get away from here as soon as possible so I don’t drag him into my mess.
“Oi, Cheeks. You goin’ spacey on me?”
Katsuki’s inquiry made her eyes flutter, and she looked at him with slightly pink cheeks. He pointed his fork at her, frowning. “It sounds to me like you’re wrapped up in something big.” Before she could apologize for involving him, his face suddenly split in a wide grin. “It’s about damn time something exciting happened around here.” He scarfed down his food and then grabbed both their plates, tossing them in the sink to wash later. “That Tomura guy and the pirates have probably been looking for you all night and will eventually come to town lookin’ for ya. We should probably make ourselves scarce. Let me take care of some things around here, and then I’ll take you into town.”
“Are you sure? You’ve already done a lot for me… I don’t want to cause you any trouble.”
“It’s better than you fumblin’ around here by yourself. If you don’t know where you’re goin’, you’ll stick out like a sore thumb. You’ll blend in much better with me,” he pointed out, and the sternness in his expression told her that she wouldn’t be able to argue the matter. Plus, his explanation did make sense, though she still felt guilty— especially because she was really relieved Katsuki was willing to stay with her despite the danger.
They took some uncooked bacon outside and were immediately swarmed by the dogs Ochako had seen moseying around the lawn that morning. There were about a dozen of them, slim and wiry-haired. At first she was frightened, ducking behind Katsuki nervously; the boy just laughed when they bolted up to him, excitedly jumping up to snap at the half-empty package of bacon he held above his yet.
“Oi, you mongrels, behave in front of the lady, or ya ain’t gettin’ none!”
Obediently, they settled down, though they still whimpered longingly at the bacon. Katsuki removed a piece of the raw meat and held it out to one of them, and despite its initial excitement, the dog was careful and tender as it took it from Katsuki’s fingers. It chomped on the food, jaw smacking and tail thumping the sandy ground happily.
“A lot of these dogs belonged to guys who died in the mines,” Katsuki explained as he fed the strays one by one. “There ain’t no one to take care of ‘em. They used to wander town but were chased off ‘cuz they were nuisances, rummaging through the trash and stealing food from the vendors and shops— so they ran up here. I know what it’s like to be alone with no one to take care of ya. I felt sorry for ‘em, so now I feed ‘em when I can and let ‘em stay up here.”
“Katsuki… You’re an orphan, too?”
“Yup,” he said, strangely unemotional about the matter. He wiped his greasy hands on his pants once he fed the dogs the last piece of bacon, then looked at her. “Us orphans gotta stick together, because the only ones who can look out for us are each other.”
One of the dogs, a long-haired white female, nosed at Ochako’s thigh, thinking she may be hiding more bacon. Ochako looked down at her, at her pretty blue eyes and pleasant face, and wondered how no one would want her. One would expect her hair to be dusty and kinky, but it was neatly groomed and fluffy. I bet he bathes them, too, she thought warmly. She could imagine Katsuki sitting in a big metal basin trying to wrangle a dozen dogs into the bath. She scratched the dog behind the ears, chuckling when her tongue lolled out in happiness.
“Yeah.” She smiled sadly. “There is no one to take of us but each other…”
Yet, she couldn’t help but wonder how much trouble she was worth, and when Katsuki would decide that she just wasn’t worth taking care of anymore. Would she end up a lonely orphan sooner than she thought, a meek little lamb with lions closing in on all sides and no ram to protect her?
Enjoy this story? Here’s the next chapter! Please consider perusing my Table of Contents.
#kacchako#bakuraka#bakugo x uraraka#uraraka x bakugo#bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo#ochako uraraka#uraraka ochako#my hero academia#mha#boku no hero academia#bnha
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RNM After Dark off-cut
So here's my RNM After Dark off-cut that I deemed Not-Kinky-Enough and therefore went back and finished my medical kink story to replace. It's a nice little smutty AU tho and it's finished so I figured I'd still post it for you guys. Also, available on AO3.
Rated Explicit.
Includes: erotic electrostimulation, telekinesis as restraints, attempted mind manipulation, anal sex, hand jobs, sex against a giant crystal
Words: 6120
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"The Prize at the End of the Maze"
-
Above-Earth discos were still a relatively new thing when Forrest invited Alex to visit one. They’d been casually dating for almost a year, and Forrest had never seemed to have more than a passing interest in going to one of the slowly rotating space needles with its tethered pods that could go up into the mesosphere for a space experience all while still within Earth’s atmosphere. It looked like more money than he was willing to part with over a fleeting experience, but Forrest apparently was a member of one of the most exclusive above-Earth clubs on the globe, Deep Sky.
One of the things that made Deep Sky unique was that you had to be invited. Upon Forrest inviting him, he had also informed him that he was being considered for membership to a club he had only passing knowledge of, and he was deeply suspicious. Why did he matter? Who was he to these people that they would know him? Had Forrest told them about him? It unsettled him.
“Look, they recruit guys like us all the time. Guys with a more open mind and familial connections,” Forrest had explained after they’d dressed and Alex had demanded an explanation. “It’s not a bad place. It’s… it’s actually amazing.”
He’d said the last bit with a dreamy smile on his face, eyes going unfocused as he apparently reflected inward at a memory of Deep Sky that Alex wasn’t privy to.
“What’s the drawback?” Alex had asked, leaning forward and snapping Forrest from his internal foray. Forrest looked at him seriously then.
“The deeper you go, the more alone you become. You can get lost in there and lose everyone, including yourself. But the place is weird. You only go as far as they let you. I’ve never gotten very far in there, but the way they talk about you… I think you could have the run of the place.”
“How do they talk about me?” Alex had asked, knitting his hands together and feeling his forehead furrow in concern.
“It’s not bad. I don’t… I can’t really explain it. If you decide to join, you’ll find out. But, how about you come with me as a guest one night? You can see it for yourself,” Forrest had offered, giving Alex the easy grin that had once made his heart thump in anticipation. Then he’d just felt trepidation, but he’d nodded and agreed to go as a guest.
“You’ll love it,” Forrest had told him before kissing him to stop the cynical comeback he’d cued up.
Now he was within its walls and thinking that maybe Forrest was a little bit right about it being something different.
Deep Sky was like no other club Alex had ever been to. Sure, it had music and dancing. Sure, there were bodies pressed hot and slick against each other in every direction he turned. And okay, there were strobing lights and bass lines that made the bones of his ribs rattle around his heart, but that’s where the similarities ended. For one thing, there were plants everywhere. Vines crawled up walls to end up dangling from the ceiling, and tall, large-leafed purple giants with vibrant green veins running through them pushed into pathways and created canopies overhead. The air smelled like oxygen, water, sweat, and wet stone. Deep Sky also had labyrinthine hallways that could lead you to a bar, a bathroom, the main dance floor, or somewhere darker where greedy hands and mouths reached out to drag you in. The darker places were only menacing if your least favorite sin was lust. The slap of skin and deep, throaty moans of utter surrender to pleasure leaked from the shadows as a taunt and a promise to the passerby.
Once you were in the hallways, there were no signs to tell you where to go, only nonsensical phrases shouted in humming neon surrounded by alien-looking orchids and birds of paradise at forks in the path. This was how Alex found himself alone and contemplating a series of rough stone stairs leading him up to the second floor. Next to the dark entrance shone a pink neon sign so bright Alex only noticed the stairs because he’d been fascinated by some unknown flower that grew in clusters behind the words emblazoned before him: And if those hills be dry, stray lower.
“Easy for you to say,” Alex mumbled to himself in response to the sign and eyed the stairs leading upwards. “Apparently the only way for me to go is up.”
He left the flowers and the sign behind him and climbed the stairs. The stairs were caged in a sweet-smelling leafy vine which only allowed brief glimpses of the dance floor as he climbed. The air in the tunnel was heavy with humidity, and Alex’s skin prickled with sweat under his clothes. He was beginning to feel anxious. He’d been stuck in the hallways wandering, enjoying the novelty of new areas and plant life, for so long that he had no idea where the exit or his host was. And now he was going higher and higher up into the building without knowing where he was headed.
The end of the tunneled stairs appeared so abruptly, he almost stumbled on his missed step as his body continued to climb automatically. He was on a landing that looked down over the middle of the club. The plants up here seemed wilder somehow, less manicured and tamed than the ones downstairs. There were large quartz further from him that blocked some of his view, though he could see the lights from the club below reflecting off their smooth, mirrored surfaces. They were taller than him, milky opaque and then clear in turns as he looked at their multifaceted surfaces. He stepped further from the stairs cautiously and found the ground was soft, springy moss under his shoes. On a whim, Alex slipped off his Docs and his sock and let his foot sink into the cool, sweet smelling floor. He instantly felt twenty degrees cooler, and he sighed in relief. It was grounding somehow, even though he knew he was standing on an artificial floor so high off the ground that they had to pump oxygen into the building to keep everyone from passing out. The entire night had felt like a dream to him. He still wasn’t sure if it was a good one or a nightmare, but he was sure that it was an interesting one.
His jacket soon joined his shoes until he was only in his button-down and black jeans. He was high enough that the music was more of an echo than something he was feeling through his body. It was a lonely bird's eye view, but he liked the cooler air and his unimpeded view of the night sky through the glass roof above. He moved further out towards the edge of the landing, fully intending on laying down to count stars until Forrest found him or the club closed. He practically fell onto the green moss carpet when he reached the middle of the platform. Alex’s eyes slipped shut on instinct, his body relaxing into the coolness beneath him, and he suddenly wished he’d just stripped naked and damned the consequences of anyone finding him that way. He rolled onto his back and opened his eyes slightly to receive the comfort of the night sky above.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” a voice from beside him asked, startling him from his reverie. Alex’s body jerked into a sitting position as his head whipped towards the sound. He cursed when he found that he was not indeed alone, hand coming up to clutch at his chest over his heart as he took a few breaths to calm its racing. He glared at the stranger while he collected himself and was unsettled to find the newcomer smirking at him.
“Sorry, I didn’t know anyone else was here. I can leave,” Alex said automatically, beginning to push off from the floor. The stranger rolled over and caught his wrist before he could heave himself up. Alex looked down at the wide, square hand gripping at him and then let his eyes follow up the length of the tanned, muscled forearm to his upper arm and then to the stranger’s face. He had gold and amber eyes that seemed to glow in light and dark, loose curls that haloed his head. He was shirtless and shoeless where he stretched out against the ground nearby. Alex tried not to catalog the breadth of his shoulders or the arch of his feet, but he could feel his brain quickly scrabbling to soak up every piece of this gorgeous interloper while it could.
“You don’t have to go. It’s nice you found me. I usually spend the nights up here just hanging out until close waiting for nothing,” the guy replied with a shy grin.
“You work for the club?” Alex asked, suddenly fascinated. He settled back on his hands, though he didn’t lower himself to the ground as he’d been. The guy retracted his hand and pushed up onto his elbows so he was nearly on the same level as Alex.
“Kind of. I’m the resident alien here. Kind of the prize if you manage to slip past all the other distractions while in the maze downstairs.”
“That seems… kind of fucked up? I mean, are you getting paid? Are you free to leave if you want?” Alex asked, suddenly nervous that Deep Sky was keeping this gorgeous creature captive against his will. The alien snorted in amusement and gave Alex an open grin that just about took his breath away. His teeth were startlingly straight and white, almost glowing against the dark blush of his lips.
“There is no way they could hold me here if I didn’t want to stay. Wanna see what I can do?” His eyes lit up in excitement and Alex felt a flutter of anxiety at the keen look.
“Will it hurt?”
“Nah. I wouldn’t hurt you. Not unless you wanted me to, of course, and even then I promise I’d make it feel good,” the alien replied, giving Alex a flirtatious wink after his eyes gave him a thorough once over. Alex felt heat rush through him at the images his words brought to mind.
“Why don’t you call me Alex? I think you might want to know my name is if you’re going to be using your extraterrestrial wiles on me.”
“I’m Michael. Now why don’t you just relax and let me take over for a bit?”
Alex nodded nervously, but relaxed back onto his back against the moss. At first, he felt nothing except for Michael’s eyes on him. Then a pressure started low on his stomach, almost like a hand, but without the tickle of fingers spreading out. Alex glanced over towards Michael, who was still laying on his stomach a little less than two feet away with his hands interlaced under his chin. The pressure started to move up, a slide against his skin, moving his shirt with it. Cool, humid air made goosebumps burst over his skin as it was exposed. Alex picked up his head and glanced down to see his shirt seemingly moving on its own accord. His breath hitched in his throat at the sight of his clothes moving without him being touched and he shot a panicked look towards Michael before instinctively moving to push down his shirt. Or he tried to move. He found that he couldn’t. His body felt paralyzed, weighed down, and the pressure against his abdomen kept pushing up his body. It was at his chest and Alex was beginning to imagine it resting against his throat, pushing against his airway, cutting off his ability to cry for help, and the panic rose.
“Stop, please,” he gasped out, every muscle straining against the invisible hold over him.
“Sure,” Michael replied easily, and then the pressure was gone. No pressure on his chest, no pressure on his limbs, and while it was immediately blissful, Alex also craved to feel a fraction of it again. Alex lay still and tried to slow his galloping heart, tried to take slow, controlled breaths, and tried to stop his muscles from shivering out excess adrenaline. He was dimly aware of Michael watching him calm himself, not reaching out for him or trying to help, but letting him do the work. When Alex felt like he had to break the tension just so Michael would stop watching him go through whatever was happening to him, he spoke up.
“That was… intense,” Alex said, voice still a little wobbly from fear.
“It can be. It can be intensely useful. Ever fuck in microgravity?” Michael asked, voice calm and unconcerned about Alex’s response to his power.
“Can’t say I’ve had the opportunity,” Alex replied with as much sass as he could muster. Michael grinned at him and pushed up off his elbows and onto his hands and knees so he could crawl over closer to Alex. Alex stayed where he was, even as part of his animal brain was telling him to flee.
“Want to give it a try? We could, you know. They’ve got pods here that’ll take us up to the mesosphere and then I could really show you what my powers are good for,” Michael explained. He’d settled on his hip so close to Alex that he had to rest his hand on the other side of Alex in order to keep upright. Alex’s eyes trailed down Michael’s chest, noting the unruly chest hair that spread across his pecs and then moved down his stomach and below his loose white track pants.
“I don’t know where you got the idea I was so easy,” Alex replied in mock offense, rubbing a hand over his stomach before pulling his shirt back down. Michael’s eyes followed the movement of the shirt, a frown settling on his face.
“You’re teasing me,” Michael accused when he caught the grin on Alex’s face.
“Oh, not me. I’d be much too frightened to tease an alien,” Alex replied.
“Star Wars won’t save you now. This is much more of an abduction, experiment with probes, drop you off at your front door kind of alien experience.”
“Probes, huh? That sounds interesting,” Alex said as he reached up and slid a hand behind Michael’s neck to pull him down for a kiss. Alex didn’t know what was coming over him, but he was actually charmed by the silly banter and bad jokes. Michael’s lips touched his and without thought or hesitation, Alex opened his own and licked over the seam of Michael’s lips. Michael welcomed him in, sliding his tongue smoothly along Alex’s once before retreating and breaking the kiss. He hovered over Alex, close enough to pull back for more, but far enough not to appear blurry.
“That was your first one,” Michael whispered. “Think you can handle some more?”
Alex only smirked in response, this time not needing to pull to get Michael to kiss him again. Their mouths met and Alex could swear he felt the floor shake with the intensity of it. He’d meant for their kisses to stay sweet and shallow, but by the second a fire was building between them. He tugged at Michael’s curls to hear him groan, wished Michael were on top of him so he could start to get some friction and relief on his swelling cock. Alex hadn’t gotten this hard from just kissing since he was a teenager.
His hands were thinking faster than he was. One stayed trapped in a tangle of Michael’s curls while the other rubbed over the warm skin and soft hair of Michael’s chest. Feeling bold, he didn’t stop his wandering hands above Michael’s waist, but let his hand keep drifting down until he brushed over the prominent bulge pushing under the waistband of Michael’s pants. His heart stuttered at the firmness he found and he traced his fingers down the length of Michael’s clothed erection, feeling his body flush hotter with desire at every inch.
“Are you sure you’re an alien? This feels pretty human to me,” Alex asked, massaging his palm softly against Michael’s cock in emphasis. Michael’s hips pushed forward and he let out a small gasp at the pressure.
“We’re a pretty comparable species. Most of the differences are only obvious under a microscope,” Michael explained breathlessly. His eyes slipped shut as his hips began to hitch forward against the first press of Alex’s hand on him. It was lewd and shameless the way he chased his pleasure while Alex watched. Alex untangled his other hand from Michael’s hair and brought it down to the waistband of his own pants. Deftly, he slipped the button and pushed down the zipper, the material separating immediately as his own hard-on pressed against his underwear and towards the newly opened space. He pushed his fingers under the waistband of his underwear and almost swore at how good it felt to wrap his fingers around himself.
“Fuck, Alex, can I…?” Michael’s voice trailed off and Alex realized he’d closed his eyes. He opened them to look up at Michael who was glancing between his face and where his hand hovered over Alex’s. Nodding, Alex slipped his hand out of his pants and away from Michael so he could lift his hips and push down his jeans and underwear to mid-thigh. He kept his eyes on Michael as he did it, watched the black of his pupils dilate further and his throat move as he swallowed.
“I’m going to use some of those alien abilities on you,” Michael said, hand still hovering over Alex’s heated skin. Alex smirked and opened his mouth to make a snarky remark on how nothing they’d done sexually so far was alien to him, when he felt curling prickles over his hard-on. He gasped at the sensation, unsure if he liked it or not, and looked down to see small electrical arcs dance over the swollen, dark pink skin of his cock. Michael let his hand hover a few inches above Alex’s body, and slowly he moved it up and down the length of Alex’s shaft, the electrical arcs darting between his fingers and palm down to Alex’s skin. It almost tickled and it almost hurt, and Alex was so fucking turned on by it that precum was starting to weep from the tip of his cock and drip onto his stomach.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he gasped loudly, hand shooting out to grab Michael’s wrist as his hand moved lower and the arcs caressed and pricked at his balls. His entire body throbbed at the sensation.
“Do you like that?” Michael asked in a low voice near Alex’s ear. “Could you get off with just a little electrostimulation to your balls?”
The prickling intensified for a moment, becoming nearly too much, and Alex’s grip on Michael’s wrist tightened in warning. The electric current on his skin dulled back down until it was gone. Alex only had a moment to mourn the loss of stimulation before Michael’s hand was on him, thick fingers wrapping around his length and stroking confidently. Alex let his hand fall from Michael’s wrist. He beckoned Michael down for another kiss, lifting onto one of his elbows to meet him halfway, already starving for the feeling of his lips against Michael’s again.
“Take your pants off,” Alex whispered against Michael’s lips as they took a quick breath between kisses. He felt more than saw Michael nod before he pulled away. He watched as Michael quickly slipped the pants off his body and off to the side. His skin was evenly tan all the way down and though his chest hair was left wild, his pubes were trimmed and neat. Alex watched his muscles flex as he kicked off the white pants and then rolled onto his knees, moving to straddle Alex’s legs. He grinned as he caught Alex looking him over.
“Like what you see?” Michael asked, leaning forward to brace himself on his arms to either side of Alex’s body so he could be within kissing range. Alex gave another leisurely scan of Michael’s body with his eyes before answering. Michael watched him avidly, licking his lips as he waited for a verdict.
“I think I can work with this,” Alex replied, overly casual tone making Michael’s eyes go wide, and then squint in mock offense.
“Well, I wouldn’t want you to strain yourself,” he challenged, and Alex felt an invisible pressure on his chest pushing him down to lay against the ground. The pressure lifted as soon as he was flat and Michael was towering over him. Alex reached out and fit his hands around Michael’s hip bones, thumbs stroking over the soft, thin skin of his groin, and pulling slightly to indicate he wanted Michael down closer to him. Their cocks brushed as Michael bent down, making Alex push up against the pressure and pulling a grunt from him.
“What do you want, Alex? You want to get off just like this? Grinding against each other like horny teenagers?” Michael asked, his lips trailing over Alex’s jaw as he spoke. Alex turned his head to give him more room to continue. Their hips hitched against each other sinuously, not giving nearly enough pressure for relief, but building the tension further between their bodies. Alex slid his hands to Michael’s ass, fingers flexing against the shifting muscle, before pulling their lower bodies in closer. Michael hummed in appreciation at the increased contact before continuing to talk low in Alex’s ear. “Or I could blow you. Or you could fuck me. Or I could just hold you down and make all the decisions for us both.”
Alex felt a rush of heat go through him. All of those scenarios sounded like good ideas, but he was getting tired of being a relatively passive participant. He glanced around behind Michael to get an idea of their terrain. Meanwhile, Michael had re-started his exploration of Alex’s neck and shoulder with his mouth, adding in small sparks of pleasure whenever he nipped at the muscles with his teeth.
“How about you go kneel by that crystal over there, hands on the crystal in front of you, and I’ll show you some of my special skills?” Alex suggested, his hands skimming up Michael’s sides until his fingers cradled his ribs. Alex turned his face towards where Michael was mouthing at his collarbone for an answer. Michael hummed in consideration for a moment before bringing their mouths together for a wet, open, filthy kiss that said exactly what he thought of that idea. One kiss turned into another, and Alex wondered if they’d be able to move before one of them blew their load. His own cock was throbbing with the need for release and the dirty, hot presses of Michael’s body against his was working him higher and higher with each hard grind. It was with truly superhuman strength that Alex was able to push Michael back and break their kiss. He wanted nothing more than to keep rutting until spent on each other.
“Fuck, hold on, just….” Michael panted, and Alex realized he really was about to cum. Alex pushed a hand between them and pressed it over Michael’s cock, effectively trapping it against his stomach and giving Michael something to fuck his cock into. The smooth pull of Michael’s foreskin over the engorged flesh beneath was unbearably hot and watching Michael’s face as he fell apart above Alex almost made him lose his own load into the humid, minute space between their bodies. As it was, Michael’s cum flooded onto Alex’s skin, pooling beneath his breastbone, hot and sticky as Michael milked his cock between Alex’s hand and stomach in slow, firm presses until there was nothing left.
“Jesus,” Alex breathed, staring down at the space between their bodies as Michael panted above him. Michael lifted Alex’s hand from over his cock and moved down to lap at the pool of cum on Alex’s skin. Alex hadn’t previously thought this was a thing for him, but watching Michael’s broad, flat tongue knife through the pearly liquid was doing things for him right then. Michael moaned at the taste of himself on Alex’s skin and then moved back up to Alex’s mouth. Alex opened his mouth on instinct, knowing what was coming, and he wasn’t disappointed when the taste of Michael’s spunk burst bittersweet and salty against his tongue. As they kissed, Alex sucked on Michael’s tongue to take everything, let himself indulge in chasing every trace of it.
A whimper escaped his throat as Michael pulled out of the kiss and pushed to sit up. He gave Alex a knowing smirk, running his finger down Alex's chest and smearing the few errant drops of cooling cum into his skin. Alex noticed he was still hard, had hardly softened at all after cumming, and he shot Michael a faintly questioning look. He shrugged and his smile grew broader before he heaved himself from across Alex's body to move towards the stone Alex had indicated. Alex watched him move, appreciated again the span of his shoulders and muscles in his back.
Alex pulled his pants back up enough to be able to roll onto his knees to crawl to Michael. His prosthesis made him feel like one leg was heavier than the other and he took care to keep the inanimate foot lifted so as not to unseat the device. He'd picked the crystal in question because it was low and not far from them. Michael looked gorgeous with the reflected light highlighting the dips and curves of his skin. Drawing near, he pushed up and carefully knee walked the few paces until he could wrap an arm around Michael's torso and lean part of his weight against him.
Michael's skin was smooth and warm, warmer even than the humid air around them, and Alex was surprised it didn't make him recoil from the excessive heat. Instead, he plastered himself across Michael's broad back, pushing his hips forward until his cock nestled firmly against the crevice between Michael's cheeks. He ran his hands across the front of Michael's body, over the taut skin of his lower stomach and up over the soft fur of his chest. His mouth latched onto Michael's skin wherever it could, licking away the salty dew of perspiration. One of Michael's hands drew back behind him to clasp low on Alex's flank, encouraging him to grind his cock against him.
"You going to fuck me or just paint my lower back?" Michael asked, amusement in his voice. Alex's hand drifted down to Michael's cock and he stroked it in time with his gyrations.
"Would it be so bad if I did just want to cover you in my cum?" Alex asked, pushing his chin to hook over Michae’sl shoulder so he could look down at his hand smoothing over Michael's gorgeous cock.
"Mmm, no. But if I have a choice, I'd like you to fucking rail me against this rock at least once before you go," Michael replied. He turned his face close to Alex’s and brushed his mouth as close as he could in silent request. Alex moved enough to let him twist so they could kiss properly. While they kissed, Alex reached into his back pocket and withdrew a few packets of lube and a condom.
"Then get back into position and stick your ass out for me," Alex demanded, giving Michael's cock a final squeeze before pulling back slightly. Michael grabbed the lube from him and turned back to face away as Alex began to push his jeans and underwear further back down his legs to pool by his knees. Resting back on his heels, he tore open the condom package. He glanced up from rolling the condom over his cock to see Michael already working two fingers in and out of his hole in front of him. It was a close thing, only stopped because his hand had already been gripping the base of his dick, that he didn't shoot his load before even breaching Michael's body. He grabbed the other packet of lube that he'd kept with him and quickly opened it to smear over his length. Before he pushed back up onto his knees, he reached out with his still slick hand and pushed a finger into Michael's hole alongside the two Michael already had inside. A grunt and low, muffled curse was heard from where Michael was pillowing his face against his forearm. He removed his fingers from his body and Alex immediately pulled his out as well to replace them with the blunt end of his cock.
"You good?" Alex asked, voice faltering as he teased the head of his cock up and down over Michael's pink hole. Michael groaned and pushed his ass back against the intruding pressure. "Okay. Here it comes."
Alex steadied his cock in one hand and with the other he reached up to grip Michael's shoulder, pulling him gently back as Alex moved forward to get past the first small bit of resistance. As soon as Alex was half sheathed inside the tight clutching walls of Michael's body, he pushed both of their bodies forward to lean against the crystal. He braced himself with an arm next to Michael's ribs and continued pushing until his hips rested flat against Michael's ass. Almost immediately, Michael was squirming restlessly beneath him.
"Come onnnn," he whined. "Fuck me!"
Alex drew his hips back slowly and then snapped them forward in a rough thrust. The sound Michael made could only have been described as ecstatic. Immediately he shifted his knees wider and pushed his hips back in a plea for more. Alex gave him more. He cramped a hand back on Michael's shoulder and grabbed his hip with the other and let his body carve out space for himself over and over in Michael's body while Michael grunted, groaned, and cried out in pleasure before him. When Michael let out a particularly surprised yelp, Alex knew he'd found the spot that would make Michael's vision white out when he came for a second time. He angled his hips and pressed in deep, giving short, languorous thrusts that rubbed that spot over and over again.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Alex!" Michael chanted, voice wrecked as he pushed back to meet Alex and pull him deeper into his body at every meeting. "Right there. Don't fucking stop."
Alex had no intention to ever stop if he didn't have to. Michael's body was tightening around his cock as he prepared to cum again and it was dragging Alex quickly to the edge with him. God, he wanted to live in this man's body. He wanted to experience the high from pleasure over and over.
His thrusts started to get sloppy as he tried to hold himself back from release.
"Michael," he said in both question and warning. He was reaching the end, his own body drawing up tight in preparation for the finish.
"Oh shit, Alex, I'm--," Michael started, only to choke off the words as his muscles seized up tight. Alex groaned against the intense pressure around his cock. It set off his own orgasm and he pumped his hips weakly, trying to draw out the pleasure as long as he could.
Eventually, he and Michael were just two heaving forms against each other. Alex reached down and held the base of the condom as he pulled out carefully. He slipped it off his softening cock and tied it off, tossing it on the ground beside him. He ran his hands over Michael's sweaty side before shuffling to the side where he laid back down on the ground, staring upward. A moment later, he felt Michael land beside him. A tentative hand touched his chest and without thinking, Alex grabbed it and held it against his still rapidly beating heart.
"So that was…" Michael started, voice sounding awed. Alex nodded in agreement, not ready to speak yet. After a few minutes he found his words.
"Are you here all the time or do you get nights off sometimes? I'd...I'd like to do that again sometime," Alex finally managed to say, turning his head to look over at Michael. Michael was laying partially on his stomach, cheek resting against his arm and curls tumbling everywhere. He would look so good wrapped in Alex's sheets.
"You're cum drunk," Michael teased, not unkindly, but Alex still felt the slight. It was true they didn't know each other, but Alex wasn't one for impulse decisions normally. But his gut was telling him that despite their lack of real conversation, there was something between them that he shouldn't let go.
"How do I prove to you that I'm not? Do I have to come back every night for a week just to talk?" Alex asked, rolling onto his side to better look at him. Michael opened an eye to glance up at him before sighing and rolling to his back.
"It's just the fresh fuck and my alienness talking. But sure, come back tomorrow night if you feel so inclined. Maybe I'll convince you to give that zero G sex a try," Michael replied lightly. He rolled to sit and moved to grab his pants. Alex felt off-kilter. How could Michael not feel this connection between them?
"Okay," Alex said after a few minutes of silence. "I'll come back tomorrow. And the rest of the week. The rest of the month or year if I have to. There's something here and I'm going to prove it."
Michael studied him, eyes sad and speculative. Alex assumed he'd heard this before. Maybe he heard it every time, but Alex didn't care. He'd prove it to Michael that he was different.
A shiny haze seemed to fill the edges of his vision and for a moment he felt like he was still at the club, in that hidden landing with Michael, and also like he was in a dream.
"You should go ahead and give up on this idea," Michael said to him and it felt like more than a suggestion. It felt like a shove out the door. Alex recoiled, standing stalwart in its path.
"No. I won't go. I won't be deterred," Alex replied. It would've been enough but his mouth kept moving despite his normal reticence. "I have never seen or met anyone like you. I don't want to give up because it's not easy."
"It's not ever going to be easy, Alex. It's always going to be more difficult than anything else. Just let it be. Drop it," Michael replied, voice harsh. Again, Alex felt a wave of persuasion crash over him, pushing him away.
"I won't do that. I can handle difficult. You'll see," Alex tried again, moving to sit up so he could move closer to where Michael was now standing. Michael gave him a long, searching look. The shiny edges lifted from Alex's vision and everything refocused. He stared at Michael, who was eying him warily.
"So I guess I'll see you tomorrow night?" he asked, voice tentative for the first time.
"Yeah. And every night after," Alex replied easily. Michael nodded and moved to help Alex stand. Alex waved him off, moving to stand how his physical therapists had taught him so he didn't hurt himself or the prosthesis. As soon as he put weight down he knew he'd overdone it. It had been worth it, but it would make coming back tomorrow and doing all those stairs a real challenge. Michael noticed his discomfort, eying him up and down for evidence of an obvious injury. Chagrined, Alex pulled up his pant leg and knocked on the hard plastic on the shin plate.
"You don't happen to have an elevator around here behind a waterfall or something?" he asked, smiling ruefully. Michael gave him a smile back and shook his head. "Oh well, guess I'll just have to stay with you up here forever."
"Sure. Let me just show you to my spaceship," Michael teased.
"Ooo, have you heard of zero G fucking? I met an alien once who told me it was a must-try," Alex teased back. Michael chuckled at his bad joke and moved forward, lifting his arms and resting them on Alex's shoulders
"A must-try, huh?" They were still smiling at each other when their lips met for a kiss. It was warm and wonderful and made Alex's toes curl. Yeah, this was definitely something.
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Can’t Fight This Feeling
-11-
We were set.
Steve and Robin locked up Scoops and the four of us made our way back up to the roof, with Erica staying inside the back of Scoops with the open vent that she would soon be crawling through. She had a walkie talkie on her and a headset that had flashlights attached, and her backpack too.
The four of us sat waiting on the roof until the loading had finished for the night. When the coast was finally clear Robin got the walkie ready.
"Erica, do you copy?"
In an instant the crackly voice of Erica came over the airwaves, "Mhmm, I copy. You nerds in position or what?"
"Yeah we're in position," Robin responded looking over to me with a slight nod, "It's all quiet here so you've got the green light."
I was positioned between Robin and Steve with Dust on the other side of Steve with his trusty binoculars stuck to his face keeping an eye out.
The evening was warm but I felt like I was boiling alive because of the stress and adrenaline. We were finally going to get some answers.
"Green light, roger that," Erica responded.
I exhaled quietly as Erica and Robin continued talking for a moment, Steve nudged me, I turned slowly to look over at him.
"You okay," he asked worriedly.
I bit my lip, "I guess? It's just...nerve wracking."
He nodded once, he opened his mouth to say something but closed it again, he opened it again a second later, "We're gonna be okay," he murmured.
I smiled back nervously, "I know," I said with a nod before turning to look out at the loading doors.
We all sat in silence. It was painful. My mind was racing about all the things could have happened to Erica. Was she okay? Was she close to the room? How would we explain to her parents and Lucas if anything happened to her?
It felt like it was becoming harder to breath for a minute because of my thoughts running rampant. I put my hands down on the bare legs to try and get them to stop shaking.
Steve's hand covered mine in an instant, I didn't even turn to look at him, my eyes staying trained on the loading dock, still fearful for Erica. I gripped his hand back to let him know that I appreciated it.
"All right nerds," Ericas staticky voice came through, "I'm there."
I looked next to me at Robin who brought the walkie talkie back up to her mouth, "Do you-do you see anything?"
"Yeah, I see those boring boxes you're so excited about," she responded.
"Any guards?"
"Negative."
"Booby traps?" Robin teased.
"If I could see them, they'd be pretty shit traps wouldn't they?" Erica sassed to us.
"Thank you for that," Robin replied sarcastically.
I breathed out a tiny laugh and looked over towards Steve and saw him looking down at me. I smiled briefly at him, which he reciprocated, and looked past him to Dustin who still had the binoculars up.
I looked back to Robin and began biting at my nails, waiting for Erica to say something else.
"I'm in."
I sighed and ran a hand down my face, "Holy shit," I groaned.
"Oh, God," Steve sighed running his unoccupied hand through his hair.
Suddenly...the doors to the room opened up and Erica came walking out like nothing had happened.
I felt myself literally deflate as some of the anxiety left my body just by seeing her in one piece. Steve squeezed my hand, and I looked up to him, only to see him with a gentle smile on his face.
"In and out?" I reminded him.
"In and out," he confirmed.
"Free ice cream for life!" I looked over to Erica and saw her standing in front of the doors with a hand on her hip and her other hand being used to punctuate her words to us.
I grinned down at her before we all started getting up to go and meet her, with Steve helping me to stand. I let go of his hand once we were up and we made our way, very quickly, to the loading dock to meet the little ninja.
"Great job, Erica," I told her once we reached her.
"I know," she responded with a smile.
I rolled my eyes with a small smile and put an arm around her shoulder, "You earned that ice cream, kid."
We walked into the room altogether. There was a box for Imperial Panda on the table in the room that Steve went to immediately. Dustin took out a pocket knife and handed it to Steve, he flipped it open, before dragging the blade across the tape holding the box closed.
Steve handed the knife back to Dustin and opened the flaps of the box where a silver metal box with a handle was inside. We all looked down at it, but none of us knew what it was.
Steve didn't hesitate, he put his hand in and turned the handle, air hissing as he did so. He lifted the lid off and smoke or steam came drifting out fo the box
There were now four handles, I was assuming each pulled up something. I obviously just didn't know what.
"That's definitely not Chinese food," Steve mumbled.
Steve put the other lid on another box before he looked over to the rest of us and put his hands up, "Maybe you guys should stand back."
Robin, Erica and I immediately took a few steps back but Dustin stayed next to Steve.
"No," Dustin said simply.
"Dustin," I said reaching for him.
Steve put his hand on Dustin's shoulder, "Just stand back, okay?"
I stepped forward and gripped his shoulder, "Dustin, come here," I told him.
He looked at me for a second before facing Steve again, "No! No! If you die, I die."
Steve looked over Dustin's head to me, my eyes were wide and something about Dustin saying that really made my stomach flop.
Dustin really cared for Steve, and I knew Steve cared about him too. They really were best friends. I could see that now.
I sighed and stood next to Dustin, "Open it, Steve," I whispered.
I looked over at Steve and his eyes were pleading, he looked between me and the area where Robin and Erica were. I caught his eye long enough to shake my head.
"Open it," I repeated.
His jaw clenched as he nodded, reaching into the box and turning the handle on one of them. He pulled it up and air hissed out of it again with more steam or smoke.
It was a container with bright green liquid inside of it with bubbles throughout.
"What in the world?" I whispered as I gazed it it.
He held it up high so we could all get a good look at it.
"What the hell?" Steve whispered.
"What is it?" Robin asked.
Suddenly the room...shifted.
"Was that just me or did the room just move?" Dustin asked, looking up to Steve, who still had the container in his hand.
"It definitely moved," I stated.
I could hear the sounds around us, it sounded like a roller coaster getting started up. Gears spinning getting ready for movement.
"You know what? Let just grab that and go," Robin said sternly, reaching for the glowing green container.
Dustin turned behind us and went to the keypad and began pressing the button that said, 'OPEN DOOR.'
I took a step back with Robin and Erica as I watched my brother.
"Which one do I press, Erica?" he demanded.
"Just press the damn button, nerd," she instructed, as Robin zipped up her backpack where, I'm guessing, she put the unknown substance.
He groaned, "Which one?" he demanded again, "I'm pressing the button, ok?"
"Press open door!"
"I'm pressing open door!"
Steve stepped up to the keypad, "Just-press the other button," he told Dustin nudging him aside so he could look at the keypad.
"Let Erica in and she'll press the right one," I told them both as Erica stepped up to the two guys.
Steve and Dustin continued to bicker and press all different buttons on the pad. My heart rate was increasing and I thought I was going to pass out.
This wasn't part of the plan. In and out. That was it. We should have been long gone by now. But now we were trapped in this room and for all we knew the next person that would come in was the Russian spy who guards the door.
We were basically fucked.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw a rolling door come down quickly and slam shut , effectively sealing us in the room more than we were a moment ago.
I looked from the door to the other four who were all wide eyed and terrified.
The room suddenly shifted and the lights flickered. My stomach felt like it was dropping. I'm not sure who screamed first but it was suddenly all I could hear around me.
I looked up at one of the corners and saw lights flashing as we went by them. By then it clicked. We were dropping down. We were in a Goddamn elevator.
"Dustin," I yelled.
My brother look at me from where he was next to the button pad, "Stay there!"
As soon as I was getting the words out though, he had turned to the buttons, pressing in vain hoping one would work.
"We're going down! We're going down!" Steve yelled.
"Yeah no shit, Harrington!" Robin yelled back to him.
"Why won't the buttons work? Dustin screamed.
Erica went over to the buttons and began hitting them too. I tried to walk over to Dustin, but I lost my footing with the movements of the elevator, in turn making me fall over onto Steve, who had reached his arms out to grab me. He pulled me into him, trying to help me get myself balanced.
"You okay?" he asked me, worry evident in his voice.
"Fine," I said as I put my hand on his arms to keep myself upright.
I stared at him and saw that he looked very fearful, "It's okay," I said to try to calm him, like I would do for Dustin, "it's gonna be okay."
He nodded once at me, "We're gonna get out of here."
I nodded back to him, "I know."
I let go of him and went to my brother, putting my arms around him, "Holy shit, Lou," he cried.
"We're gonna be fine, Dust. I promise," I told him.
The elevator slammed against the ground, sending us all either down or backwards. I fell to the ground with Dustin on top of me.
I groaned at the sudden weight being pushed on me by Dustin. He jumped off of me quickly, "Sorry, Lou! Are you okay?" he asked, offering me a hand as I nodded my head accepting his hand.
"My groin!" Steve complained with a groan, "It fell on my groin. Dustin get this off of me!"
I looked from my spot next to the buttons and saw Steve with a fallen box on top of him.
"Robin, Erica you guys okay?" I asked, rubbing the small of my back to try to stop the stinging sensation.
"Not really," Robin answered.
Erica just huffed.
"Steve you okay?" Robin asked as she rubbed her head.
"Yeah, I'm great now that I know Russians can't design elevators!" he yelled, making me go wide eyed.
Steve went over to the buttons and began pressing things, "Steve, they're not working," I said with a sigh.
"They're buttons," he said glancing at me, "they have to do something!"
"Yeah, if we had a keycard!" Robin exclaimed.
"What?" I asked.
"It's an electronic lock," she said, "same as the loading dock door if we don't have a keycard it won't open," she explained as she walked towards Steve, "meaning-"
"We're stuck," I finished her sentence.
Steve flipped the button pad door closed and groaned again.
"Just so you nerds are aware, I'm supposed to be spending the night at Tinas-and Tina always covers for me," Erica began scolding us, "but if I'm not home in time for Uncle Jacks party tomorrow and my mom finds out you four are responsible she's gonna hunt you down one by one and slit your throats!"
That's all it took for Steve to truly snap, "I dont care about Tina! Or Uncle Jacks party! Your moms not gonna be able to find us if we're dead in a Russian elevator!"
I reached out a hand and gently touched Steve's forearm, "Steve," I whispered.
We needed to try to be calm to figure this out. Steve flipping shit, while warranted, wasn't going to help get us out.
His shoulders relaxed once I touched him he turned to look at me and sighed before stepping back to stand next to me. I dropped my hand from his arm.
"Hey," Dustin said, "what if we climbed out?" he said pointing to the roof where I could see a door that would lead us to the outside of the room.
Steve was gone from my side in an instant as he and Dustin climbed up and out quickly.
"That won't work," I whispered.
"We're too far down," Robin agreed.
Dustin and Steve we're back in the room within a moment and said the same thing that Robin and I stated.
I made eye contact with Steve, all we could offer each other were bewildered looks. We were, quite literally, starting from the ground up. We needed a new plan and we needed it fast.
——
Title credit to REO Speedwagon and gif credit to owner
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington imagine#stranger things imagine#dustin henderson#netflix#stranger things
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Undertake Pt. 2 - Lee Minho • Lee Know
Originally posted on Ao3 as: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23861383/chapters/57579304
Pairing: Lee Know x Female Reader
Genre: angst
Tw: NSFW, cheating, smoking, showing of anxiety
Who was the first to take the bait?
Part 1 | Part2
A/n: thank you so much for the anticipation and love that you have given this story. This was my first fic of this genre so it was a great challenge to write! But i hope you all enjoy it ❤️
Minho starts his day normally and attends university, he has not contacted you for a few days ever since he walked out and you wonder why.
The truth is, Minho has been losing his mind over it. But the only thing that keeps him going is his god forsaken pride. He never likes being called a loser, it wasn’t in his vocabulary. He doesn’t know what to do, but is determined to continue and go on with whatever is happening with his life right now.
He parks his car and the moment he gets out, he receives a look that he has never gotten before.
Disgust.
How did he know it was that kind of look? Because he cares so much about his image and what people think. He knows what he wants and what he doesn’t. His tongue rolls in his inner cheek and he raises his eyebrows in confusion. “The fuck was that for” he whispers to himself and locks his car, throws his keys in his pocket and tries to shrug it off.
The closer he gets to the sea of people in the campus, the more he gets of that unfamiliar look. He pulls out his phone to call none other than Chan, asking where he was. The two agree to meet in a certain place, but it meant that Minho had to go through all those looks alone, which made him very uneasy. The fact that he’s guilty about something adds up to his anxiety, but it was beyond what he could imagine. It was something that he doubted people would know, not now.
He hides both of his hands in the pockets of his jeans and continues to walk across them while he sucks in his cheeks and bites it on the inside, his breathing is heavy. His palms turn cold and sweaty despite them being in his pocket, and breaks a small sweat on his forehead. His anxiety was going up the roof and he had to be with Chan right this instant.
Minho finally arrives at the place where Chan had asked him to go, and felt a rush of relief the moment he saw him from a few meters away. He takes his hands out of his pocket and reaches Chan for a hug. His friend immediately felt his fast heartbeat, which shows that it had been challenging for Minho to arrive at their meeting place, which was the rooftop.
“What’s going on, Chan?” Minho runs a hand through his hair and leans on a cemented post, trying to pace his breathing. Chan knew that the reason behind Minho’s heavy breathing wasn't because he was tired, it was because he was anxious.
Chan bites his lip and seethes some air in between his teeth and finally speaks, “They know, Minho. All of them” he shows him a picture of you and Minho kissing in front of your apartment door.Chan immediately prepares himself for Minho’s response.
Minho covers his mouth and punches the wall that he was leaning on, his legs growing weak and giving up on him. There were no other words to put it, Chan knew that he would instantly get what he was talking about. But how?
“What do you mean.” Minho says trying to contain himself, because he knew he couldn’t scream.
“You know what I mean. You wouldn’t want to hear me describe it, you know that.” Chan says firmly, looking at his helpless friend.
Minho buries his face in his hands, tears forming due to the built-up anger towards himself and the situation, Chan lowers himself to help him stand up.
“Please, help me. Help me cover this up Chan I’ll do anything you want. I’ll get you a new car if you want.” He holds both of Chan’s wrists,“Just, please.” Minho says all at once, practically begging Chan to save him from the mess he stirred up on his own.
Chan lets out a deep sigh, “It’s already overdue. Do you really think people wouldn’t find out sooner or later? I’m sorry man I’m out of this. But don’t worry, I won’t make it worse. I’ll keep quiet, that’s all I can do for you.” and with that, Chan was off for his class and left Minho on his own.
Minho later then composes himself. He gets up and brushes the dust off his pants, “You can do this. You’re alright.” he says to himself and takes deep breaths. He fixes his shuffled hair back to the way it was this morning, and wipes his tears that were formed out of anger. He was going to get to the bottom of this. “There’s no time to be a fucking coward now.” He knew he was on his own.
One of the first things that came to mind was Mi Yeon. He had prepared himself to put up an act that it was a mistake, that it was your fault. Because Minho only cares about himself, and not one bit about how you would feel when he throws you under the bus.
He dials up Mi Yeon and paces back and forth as he waits for her to pick up.
“Yes?” She hums on the other line, like usual.
“Baby, where are you? Can we talk?” Minho innocently asks.
“I’m on free cut. The professor didn’t show up, but i’ll be staying at the library. You want me to wait for you there?”
“Yes, please i’ll be on my way.” Minho ends the call and is surprised that Mi Yeon didn’t go ape shit on him, he assumes that she probably doesn’t know about it yet.
Once again Minho prepares to give a cold face to everyone who gives him looks, enough for him to hold until he gets to the library.
“Minho, over here.” Mi Yeon says in a whisper, hoping to not disturb the few students who were also in the library. He nods and heads over to her who had saved a seat for him.
He purses his lips for a moment, thinking of how he could start this terrifying conversation. “Do you know?” he asks, barely looking her in the eyes.
“Hm?” She seems to be unbothered, which was awfully strange. Or is she doing it so that Minho can say it on his own? Mi Yeon knew him too well, he liked other people finishing his sentences off for him.
“Me.. and..” Minho hesitates to say your name.
“And?” She taunts him, she wants to make him finish it.
“Y/n…” He says barely in a whisper.
“Ah, that.” Mi Yeon grabs her pen and pretends to chew on it a little. “Yeah, It’s nothing right?” She raises her eyebrows and continues to write down some notes from her lecture book.
Minho is taken by surprise by how calm she was, “Of course! It was nothing, it was just a stupid dare from a friend. From Chan.” Minho hastily chose his words, even dragging his friend into it.
“Chan? He knew her? Hm, interesting, I didn't think you guys had a common friend, she tells me that she doesn’t really know who you are. I guess she easily forgets.” Mi Yeon casually shrugs.
Minho knew what he said was wrong, dragging Chan into all this when all he did was protect him. Mi Yeon has been acting incredibly strange and calm, Minho didn’t have the best feeling about it but he let it go. How much further can he take his lies when he’s already single-handedly giving himself away?
“Do you have anything else to say? Aren’t you late for your class?” Mi Yeon says, seeming like she was in a hurry to send him away.
“Oh, um yeah that’s all. I’ll get going I guess.” He awkwardly stands up and leans forward to kiss her hair.
“See ya” Mi Yeon smiles and sends him off.
______________
Chan receives a call from an unknown number but answers it anyways.
“Chan?” The familiar voice rang.
“Mi Yeon ssi?” He says, unsure.
“Yes, it’s me. Are you free this evening?” She asks out of the blue.
Chan hesitates, he has always been casual with her, but he wouldn’t really consider her as a friend. “Uhm, not that I know of. Why?”
“Nothing much, I just wanted to treat you for a meal. Exams are coming up and I know you’re very diligent in your studies…” She trails off.
“Oh, well sure! I’m in. Where do I meet you? My class ends at around 5:45.” Chan finally agrees.
“Alright, meet me at the school parking after you get out of class. You know my car right? I’ll wait for you.” Mi Yeon smiles through the phone and ends the call.
As soon as the call was dropped, Chan wanted to text Minho about it, but he decided not to. Because his friend might get the wrong idea, it was just a harmless meal.
His classes for the day finally end and he heads over to where he was going to meet Mi Yeon. He spots her on her phone while leaning on her car and calls out her name. “Mi Yeon ssi!” He waves and her head perks up. She slides her phone back into her pocket and greets Chan.
“Lets go?” Mi Yeon says as she unlocks her car.
“Are you sure you wanna drive? I mean-” she cuts him off and insists.
“It’s alright.” She smiles.
Chan nods and goes to the passenger seat and buckles his seat belt, so does she. Chan looks around the car and out the window, trying to eliminate the awkwardness between them . “Nice ride.” He compliments. Mi Yeon chuckles and drives off.
The car ride was quiet for a few minutes. He had left it to Mi Yeon to decide where she would take him to eat. Until moments later, he notices that she had driven off into an unfamiliar road.
“Wah, is this a shortcut I’ve never been-” again, she cuts him off. But in a different way this time.
“You know what i hate the most?” Mi Yeon says, her eyes on the road and her hands tightly gripping the steering wheel.
Chan gulps and stirs lightly in his seat. “Are you alright?”
“People who cheat. And people who enable their friends to do so.” She says, ignoring Chan’s question. She chuckles, gradually picking up the speed of her driving. Chan’s eyes grow big and he gulps. He carefully tries to check the lock of the door until he discovers it’s on child lock.
“Mi Yeon listen, we can talk about it okay? Please slow down.” Chan tries to stay as calm as possible because Mi Yeon, was not.
“God, I just want all of them to disappear!” She shouts and steps on the gas even more, driving beyond 100 miles per hour. Chan was terrified, he didn’t expect her to be like this. She had always been bubbly and kind.
“Mi Yeon please please calm down, pull over for a while and let’s talk about it.” Chan tries to convince her but she doesn’t listen.
He pulls out his phone and Mi Yeon notices it, “Don’t even think about it.” She threatens him. Which had left him with no choice but to obey her. He was scared as hell.
Chan had become dizzy as moments were passing by, he couldn’t convince her to pull over and he had no idea where they were. “Mi Yeon please, my head hurts. I’m feeling nauseous. Please pull over.” He pleads.
“You think I care? You’re just as bad as he is.” Mi Yeon shakes her head. A few moments later, she steps on the brakes very abruptly, making Chan hit his head against the headrest. “Get out.” Mi Yeon says, and his breathing is heavy.
He looked around and there was nothing to see, he didn’t know where he was, and unable to hold it in, he threw up on his seat, making a mess of himself.
“I said, get out! Don’t make a mess in my car you fucking turd. You kept telling me to pull over, here we are. So get out. Don’t ever involve yourself with him anymore or else this isn’t the only thing that you’re getting.” She jeopardizes him, leaving him with no choice.
He immediately takes off his seatbelt and gets out of the car to throw up some more, they were in the middle of an empty expressway with no rescue points. Before Chan could even look at the car again, Mi Yeon had left him in the middle of nowhere.
________
Minho thinks of a person who could have possibly spread all this and he stops dead in his tracks when he remembers the conversation that he and Chan a few weeks ago.
“watch your back. Stop treating your side chick like shit or else telling your girlfriend is the first thing on her list.” Chan casually shrugs his shoulders.
There was only one thing to do. Minho was mad and desperate, and he had to have someone to blame, it was you.
He rushes over to his car and immediately heads to your apartment, not scared of being caught because in his thoughts, it could have only been you who had done such a thing.
He arrives and aggressively knocks on your door, rather, banging it with his fists.
You get up from your couch hurriedly as you were startled with the noise and peak through the peephole. “What the fu-“ you say, but before you even finish, he throws himself right in.
“You fucking bitch! How crazy do you have to be to start shit with me? What the fuck do you want?” He shouts at you and pushes his palm against your shoulder, making you fall back slightly.
“The fuck? I was going to ask you the same thing. I didn’t fucking do it!” You raise both of your hands in defense, because you really didn’t.
“Stop lying to me, If you didn’t do it then why did you make friends with Mi Yeon?” He asks, his veins popping out of his neck and the color red flushes out of his skin.
“Who are you to tell me who i should be friends with? Our friendship has nothing to do with you! You always think that everything I do has something to do with you!” You press your fingers on his chest. “You think the world is gonna stop spinning if it doesn’t,” she taps her finger once, “Include you.” Then twice.
Minho grabs your wrist and throws your hand away from his chest, he could not think of anything to say. “Fuck you.” He says, his breath seething in anger and leaves.
Once again Minho’s ego was thrown off a cliff and he hated it so much. He gets into his car and lets out a scream and hits his head against his steering wheel multiple times. “Fuck fuck fuck!” He hits his car horn and makes a fuss in the peaceful neighborhood, and lights up a cigarette.
He speeds off to god knows where, and you were left at home wondering who could have done such a thing when you had tried to be so discreet about it.
You go to your kitchen and get yourself a glass of water for your throat that has gone painfully dry. You start to breathe heavily and your heartbeat sped up. You honestly thought Mi Yeon was a good friend, you never had the intention to ruin your friendship because of Minho. In fact, he shouldn’t have been in the picture. He was nobody.
But you couldn't help it, you felt so guilty and knew that Mi Yeon deserved to hear something from you. You finish your glass of water and rushed to grab your coat and decided to head to her flat.
You anxiously wait for a cab and once you are able to catch one, you immediately tell the driver her address.
“Thank you.” You say to the driver and pay, quickly getting out of the vehicle.
You enter the lobby and register your name and head to the elevator. You bite your nails out of nervousness and try to pace your breathing. Your mind was blank and honestly didn’t know what to say to her, all you could think of was apologizing.
You arrive at her floor and head to her unit, your hands shake as you try to ring the doorbell.
And fair enough, she answers the door. “___, what are you doing here? Come in.” She says in a concerned manner. Which confused you because you expected her to yank your hair, or like throw you off the floor. Anything but this.
You break at the sight of her, you drop to the floor and kneel in front of her, your forehead touching her feet. You start to sob. “Mi Yeon, I’m so so so sorry.” You manage to choke out.
Mi Yeon chuckles. “I can’t believe it worked.” She says and crosses her arms.
You raise your head, your tear stained face looking up at her. What does she mean?
“What worked?” You asked. You were so lost.
“You took the bait.” She shakes her head in disbelief, still managing to laugh in an absurd manner.
“It was you? You spread it? Y-you knew?” You say trying to stand up and wipe your tears. You couldn’t believe what was happening right now. “But why? Why did you-“
“Because I knew at least one of you would break.” She smirks and jerks her head to the side. As if she knew someone would be coming.
1, 2, 3. He barges into her apartment.
“I'm surprised you took longer than her, coward.” Mi Yeon says to a mess of a person who was Minho.
—-end—-
#stray kids#lee know#lee know smut#lee know fluff#stray kids fluff#stray kids smut#bang chan#seo changbin#lee minho#kim seungmin#hwang hyunjin#yang jeongin#lee know x reader#han jisung#lee felix#smut#fluff#bf minho#lq minho#lq lee know#kpop
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The Looking Glass
gif
Words: 1978
Characters: Willow Wren, Marty Fields, Phil Coulson, Daisy Johnson, Melinda May
Prompt/Tag:
“We have to leave the country.”
Summary: Willow receives unexpected visitors following the library incident
Timeline: October 2015
Song: The Hall of Mirrors - Kraftwerk
A/N: uh-oh sisters!
—————————————————————————–
It seemed that my prayers weren’t answered. I spent the days after the library incident completely paranoid, feeling like this was becoming a pattern, some incident escalating, the fallout paranoia, and then the eventual slide back into normalcy until the next one.
I need to stop. I need to stop.
That Thursday was the first day I was able to not obsess over what happened. Marty and I made a pact to not talk about it, and I made a promise to never let Marty get that close again. That was a mistake. He saved me, but what if it went differently? No more help.
I got home from school early that day, only feeling a little better after learning that Adrian Lester had been arrested, and the fire alarm pull had been attributed to him as well, as an escape tactic. I tried not to let it get to my head, but I was shocked that I had gotten away with it, right out in the open, in broad daylight. Stop this, stop this Willow. We’re going down a dangerous path.
I had texted the Lab Rats group chat, asking if they remembered anything about a book, but so far, no one had remembered anything. Was it… like… a Bible? Some HYDRA Nazi book? Just a random bedtime story? Is that what Monster was? Just a bedtime story?
I was so deep in thought that I didn’t even hear someone approached our door until they knocked. I froze in my room and opened my bedroom door, poking my head out. Both Marty and his dad were out—it was just me home.
“Oh, what the fuck?” I whispered. I considered just not answering it, maybe they would think no one was home. Okay, we go out through the window, fly to the roof, regroup from there—
No. No powers. I have to face this as a normal person would. I didn’t do anything wrong. I have nothing to hide. It’s that simple. Besides, what if it’s just like UPS dropping off a package?
They knocked again and I crept towards the apartment’s front door before peering through the peephole. There were three people outside—official looking. Oh shit. HYDRA?
I should run, right now. Leave.
But if it was HYDRA, they would have come for me while I was at school. They wouldn’t knock, right?
I took another deep breath, checked to make sure my wings were hidden, and slowly opened the door, just enough to poke my head out. “Hello?” It was a man and two women. The man seemed to be the one in charge, which was one suckaroo for feminism.
“Hi, Willow?” the man asked. “Mind if we come in? We have a few questions about an incident you may have witnessed at the Henry Clay Public Library the other day.”
Oh SHIT.
I pushed away my panic and tried to remain calm and keep my expression neutral. “What? What incident?”
“It would be easier if we could sit down,” said one of the women. She wasn’t smiling like the man was.
“Is anyone else home?” The other woman asked.
I opened the door a little more, my heart pounding as I considered my options. “No…? Maybe… maybe I should call our lawyer or something. Are you police?”
“No, not police,” said the man. “I’m Phil Coulson. We specialize in strange occurrences, like the ones you may have witnessed, as part of the Strategic Homeland, Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. And this is Agent May and Agent Johnson.”
I worked through the letters in my head. “Shield?” OH SHIT. “Wait… aren’t you guys… wait also hold on, who came up with the letters thingy was it really necessary, it’s kind of a lot…” I couldn’t stop talking, words were just pouring out of my mouth, my usual nervous rambles starting.
“Everything all right?” Agent May asked.
“Yeah, no, I’m fine. So… uh…” I cleared my throat. “What about the library? How did you even know…?”
“Oh,” said Phil, looking towards Agent Johnson for an explanation. “Agent Johnson, can you…”
“You posted on Instagram and tagged the library about ten minutes before it happened,” Agent Johnson said simply. She pulled out her phone and showed me a picture. “This one?”
Oh… fuck. It was a selfie of me and Marty with the caption come to Henry Clay Public Library if you want an ass kicking in the next 30 minutes.
Phil chuckled. “It’s amazing. Every year this part of our job gets easier. Between Facebook, Instagram, and Flickr—”
“Flickr?” I interrupted. “No one uses that anymore. I mean, Snapchat, for example, might be way more helpful if you used the—" I stopped, realized I was rambling again.
“Use the…?” Agent Johnson asked.
“There’s… uh…” I glanced out the window. “A vulnerability that uh…allows you to view Snaps under a specific um… geotag… never mind.” Can you stop talking? Is that possible for you?
“Well, as much as I would love to talk about what’s hip with the kids these days,” Phil said, “We just need to know if you saw anything out of sorts at the library yesterday. Anything strange, unusual?”
Just play dumb.
“I mean... the fire alarm went off. Why would they call you guys in for that?” I plopped down on the couch, putting my shaking hands underneath my legs as the other agents sat down across from me. Get it together! I forced myself to make eye contact with Phil since Agent May wouldn’t stop staring me down. “
“Willow, our team learned of the arrest of a person of interest that took place at the same time you evacuated the building.” Phil pulled out a photo of Adrian Lester and showed it to me. “However, a security camera by the front desk captured the agent being thrown back by an unknown force before his arrest and the injuries sustained are believe were inflicted by a powered individual. That’s why we were called in. Here.” He pulled up the security footage and I watched Adrian hit the desk again, flinching as he did so. Did I really throw him that hard?
“Damn, that’s crazy,” I said, not sure of what else to say, kicking myself for forgetting about the camera by the front desk. “I didn’t see anyone though if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Did you see anyone talking to him before the alarms went off?” Phil asked. “Or perhaps what he was doing?”
“I was just there studying,” I said evenly. “No, I didn’t see anything.”
“You didn’t seem him get approached by anyone, or anyone else suspicious in the building?” Agent May clarified.
“No,” I said again, this time a little more forcefully. “Look, I have a lot of homework, so…”
“Okay, all right,” said Phil gently. “We’re just going around and trying to figure out our next steps and questioning anyone who may have seen anything. Thank you for your time.”
I saw Agent Johnson glancing around the apartment, and it was making me nervous. None of this felt quite real and I was already thinking about what this meant for our Rat Revolution, for the others. If SHIELD finds out about us, about what we’ve been doing, we’re going to be in some real hot shit.
This was exactly what Jessica warned you about and you ignored her.
“Who else do you live here with again?” Agent Johnson asked, suddenly.
“Uh… don’t you guys know?” I asked. “I mean, government and all? NSA shit?”
The others looked to Phil as he answered. “Well, actually, you were a bit difficult to track down. Did you move recently? Your records were a bit…well… sparse, to be frank.”
Oh, no. Answer this one carefully.
“Uh… actually yeah,” I said. “Um… there was a big fire.” Why the fuck would you say that? “House burned down… and then uh… my parents died.” Where did that come from? “You can look it up. The Gideon Barn fire.” Willow—stop! Are you on crack or something? “Small farming community. Came to stay with these guys. Family friends.” I shifted my pose to the same one I did when I didn’t do my homework, elbows on the knees, leaned forward like I was going through something, so the teacher would feel bad.
“Sorry for your loss,” Agent May said.
“It’s fine.” No, don’t say that! “Is that everything?” I asked.
“I think so,” said Phil, standing up, the tone in the room shifting again. “We’ll be in touch if we need anything else.”
“Cool,” I led them over to the door. “Well, yeah, stay in touch. Would love to talk again sometime. Sorry I couldn’t help.”
“Nice meeting you,” said Agent Johnson and I forced a smile.
As soon as I shut the door behind them, I huffed a deep breath in, leaning against the door for support, all the anxiety from the interview filling me at once. I felt lightheaded and sat down instead, my head against the wall. This is bad. This is really bad.
I could still hear their voices as they waited for the elevator, and even though they talked in whispers, I could hear them.
“Think she was hiding something?” Agent Johnson asked. “I mean, we can agree that was weird, right?”
Ouch, thanks for that jab to my self-esteem.
“Perhaps,” said Phil. “The question is, why?
“Do you think it was her?” Agent Johnson asked. “I mean if the ACTU finds this person before we do…”
“We’ll find them,” said Phil. “But for now, until we know what we’re dealing with, we’re not equipped to—”
Their voices faded as the elevator descended and I was shaking again. Why didn’t they ask to talk to Marty? Why come here? How much do they know? And why not just scoop me up now?
I went to the window and stared out, half-expecting to see a bunch of black SUVs parked in the street.
My first instinct was to talk to Fanisimo and some of the other Lab Rats and see if we could put together a hack, but if we made a wrong move, it would expose all of us, plus then I’d have to admit to them what I had been doing behind their backs—straying away from our original plan to just expose the old Facility workers, but confronting them, using my powers in the open. Drawing attention to myself.
The door opened and I jumped, stumbling back, only to see Marty slipping his shoes off.
“Hey,” he said. “How are you feeling?”
“We need to leave the country,” I said, and then paused and put a finger over my lips. Bugs. They could have left bugs.
“What are you…” Marty started, and I turned on my phone light to check under the coffee table and furniture, anything the agents had made contact with. When I saw they were empty, I turned off my flashlight and motioned to Marty.
“Turn off your phone.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
When he powered it off, I told him about the agents. “They were here, Marty. In the apartment,” I whispered. “They know stuff, and I don’t know how much.”
“So, what does that mean? What now?”
“It means that I’m done. Everything has to be back to normal. I don’t know how many resources they have or what they know. From here on out, I promise, everything is going to have to be normal.”
It means I’m shouldn’t take my phone with me anymore when I do these operations. It means I have to be twice as careful, no more sloppy work. It means I need to finish this before anyone else finds me.
And what do I mean by finish?
Find Subject Zero. Find Doctor Turner. Find out what Monster was. Destroy anything that’s left of it.
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there was a conversation in the rk1k discord about a spiderman au a while back and i decided to try write something about it bc its consuming like 30% of my brain
idk if i’ll write more (im way better at writing ideas down as bullet points instead of prose) but man it just seems like a neat idea idk
word count: 1.6k
pairing: general
additional tags: human au, physical violence, gavin is an unsympathetic rat boy
Look, Connor considers himself a calm person. He’s level-headed at the best of times. But he’s pretty sure even the calmest person would panic at least a little if they got stuck to their bedroom wall.
One hand is completely splayed out on the ceiling, the other one still stuck to his sneaker. His feet aren’t quite flat on the ceiling, but he certainly wouldn’t have a comfortable fall if he stopped sticking to everything. Why he’s sticking to everything, he still doesn’t know.
He doesn’t know why anything that’s happened to him today has happened; he grew a good three inches taller overnight, he accidentally stuck to his biology textbook - and subsequently tore it to shreds - this morning, and it’s like he’s jumping at the slightest provocation. There’s been a foul taste in his mouth all day, and he swears he somehow burned a piece of paper he chewed on, but he hasn’t got a fever. It doesn’t make any sense.
Even so, the thought sends Connor’s anxiety through the roof…more to the point, his anxiety is making him stick to the fucking roof.
For no good reason, he keeps thinking about yesterday. The field trip to the CyberLife Lab, the spider that crawled onto his hand and left him a painful, bruising bite. The tour guide said something about the experiments they were running on arachnids and other small animals, genetically enhancing them with nanobots in an attempt to slow or prevent extinction, or…something. But that doesn’t make sense. There’s no way to confirm the effects are transmittable to humans.
It’s probably not helping him at all to scream his head off, but he’s not sure what else he can do. He’s pulling his hand away from the ceiling as hard as he can, even trying to pry it off with the sneaker in his other hand, but it’s not working. He’s just putting more cracks in the paint.
He can’t see the door opening from his angle, but he hears it, followed by his dad’s voice: “Connor, are you o-- What the fuck?!”
At the same time as his dad swears, Connor finally frees his hand with a startled yelp. Drywall flakes off with it, but it doesn’t quite fall into his face before his entire upper body falls down with nothing to hold it up. The upside-down view of his room, of his dad’s confused and horrified expression, makes Connor nauseous.
And just a second too late, it strikes him that he’s hanging from the ceiling of an old house by nothing but the balls of his feet. With a dull crunch, the drywall above him gives out and he plummets to the floor. Connor’s fall is half-broken by his bed, but his knees land straight on the floor. Carpet be damned, it’s a rough landing.
And now there’s a perfect handprint of missing drywall on Connor’s ceiling.
---
Okay. So maybe Connor has unhuman abilities thanks to a genetically altered spider. That’s fine, probably. Kind of. Once he figures out how to ignore them, everything can go back to normal.
And for a few weeks, it’s almost like Connor gets away with telling himself that blatant lie. Ignoring them during school is hard and stressful, but at home, he’s free to throw theories (and himself) at the wall to see what sticks; and once he’s done that, he knows how to avoid triggering them. It gets a little bit easier to stop sticking to everything, to stop burning whatever enters his mouth or visibly jumping whenever something sets off his fight-or-flight reflex.
Maybe it’s a smarter idea to tell someone. Or maybe telling someone would be the fastest way to be locked up in a government facility and experimented on until someone wrote a book about him. Or maybe he’s being paranoid, but still, Connor has a bad feeling that he doesn’t want anyone to know what’s happening to him. And apart from his poor father, no one seems to know.
“Hey, jackass! I’m talking to you!”
That might change if this guy doesn’t leave him alone, though. Connor’s sharpened foresight allows him to step out of Gavin’s reach before he can grab Connor by the back of his sweatshirt. Instead of turning back to face Gavin, he pulls up his hood and keeps walking as fast as he can without looking conspicuous.
Gavin reaches out again, successfully pulling Connor back by his backpack. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
As Connor is forcefully spun around, he barely stops himself from glaring. “I’m pretty sure I’m not. And I’m pretty sure this isn’t even the way to your house, so you ought to turn back and go home.”
Predictably, Gavin ignores him. “Don’t play coy. You promised to help me out with exams, remember? I just need your English notes; I’ll bring them back safe and sound tomorrow, alright?”
“When I promised to help you, I thought that meant tutoring you. I’m not letting you copy my notes. Especially if you’re copying them word-for-word.”
“That was one time--”
“If you don’t want to listen in class, that’s your own problem.” Connor can’t quite stop spite creeping into his voice when he continues: “I’m not letting you get us both in trouble just because you don’t want to stop being an asshole.”
“Watch the tone, robot,” Gavin sneers.
“If you literally ever watched your own, I’d consider it. Instead, you have to waste all your energy on being the biggest dickhead on the planet and pretending you’re not just like every other mediocre straight guy ever.”
He shrugs Gavin off and steps back. “Ask someone else for help. I’m done talking to you.”
That proves to have gone too far as soon as Gavin shoves Connor back into the wall of a nearby building. His backpack stops his body from colliding at full force, but his head still gets knocked pretty hard. Right before Connor recovers, Gavin moves forward and punches him straight in the diaphragm. He doubles over for a moment before Gavin grabs him by the jaw and shoves his head back against the wall.
“Alright, smartass! I’ll give you one more opportunity to do this the easy way.”
It dawns on Connor just then; they’re alone. Connor is the only kid who goes home this way, and he doesn’t live in the nicest part of town. At school, there are always witnesses, no way for people to get away with beating each other up for very long. Out here, people probably won’t step in unless Connor runs for help, and he’s not sure if he can get away fast enough. At least, not without setting off his powers.
Connor bares his teeth. “Smartass this, retard that, do you even know my real name? Is your brain that small?”
Gavin hits him in the stomach again. And again. Connor thinks he hits a kidney on the third strike. And then he makes a snap decision, jerking his head to the side and biting down, hard, on Gavin’s finger.
“Ow, what the fuck?! Ow!”
Gavin recoils, clutching his hand like it’s on fire. Connor didn’t expect such a strong response, but he’s just glad he hasn’t got his back against a wall, and he wants to keep it that way. Without thinking, Connor grabs Gavin by the ears and headbutts him with all the force he can muster.
He promptly realizes a human skull is harder than he thought, so he hurts himself just as much as he hurts Gavin. And he’s within range for Gavin to reel back and knee him directly in the groin. As he curls in on himself, Gavin throws him to the ground and kicks him again in the stomach. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
He doesn’t stop, he even kicks and stomps on Connor’s ribs and face a few times for good measure. There’s blood in his mouth, and he’s not 100% sure it’s Gavin’s. He pulls his hood all the way over his face in an attempt to protect himself.
And a few moments later, it abruptly stops. Gavin breathes like he’s tired, but he’s not kicking Connor anymore.
“What are you doing?!” an unknown voice shouts. “Leave them alone!”
Gavin swears through gritted teeth, and Connor hears footsteps sprinting away. He doesn’t get up. The newcomer murmurs under his breath - their? It’s a masculine voice, at least - before more steps are heard. A hand rests on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
It takes Connor a few moments to find his voice. In the meantime, he drags himself into a sitting position, wincing at the pain. He’s definitely going to have some spectacular bruises, and that’s a best-case scenario. “I think so,” he grits out.
“Can you tell me your name?”
Connor lifts his hood enough to look at the stranger. A tall guy with tawny skin, who looks to be a little older than Connor. His head is shaved, but there’s a ghost of stubble on his jaw. His eyes are heterochromatic, focused intently on Connor even as he not-too-subtly gawks at the stranger’s arms. He’s obviously athletic, and the tank top he’s wearing doesn’t leave a lot to the imagination.
Oh, right. Still bi.
And still in immense physical pain. Connor leans over and cradles some of the worse pain spots. “I’m Connor.”
“Markus,” the stranger replies.
Something feels amiss all of a sudden. It’s close to that distinct feeling Connor gets when he’s in danger, but there’s something off about it. It’s pulling him towards something instead of away; towards Markus, specifically. Some unheard epiphany is pulling at the corners of Connor’s mind, stronger and stronger until it snaps. Almost simultaneously, they speak:
“You’re like me…”
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You’re Safe (BTS & Sister! Reader) Imagine
Warnings: TW! Abuse is shown in the beginning of this imagine; May be triggering to some readers
Imagine your brothers (BTS) saving you from an unhealthy relationship
Your P.O.V
How long had it been since you’d left the complex? It had to have been weeks, maybe even months. Your boyfriend, b/f/n, refused to let you leave unless he was with you. Work was the only place you could get away from him, but he’d made you quit some time ago.
You weren’t allowed to use the tv, phone, or any of the media devices in the house. Each one had a password, so he’d know if you even tried. The last attempt at calling someone had lead to being locked in the basement for a week, without food, and little water. You had attempted to call your brothers, but you’d not only been caught, he heard you begin to ask for help.
“Y/n! Get your ass in here!” He was drunk again, and, he was angry. What did you do this time? You find yourself scrambling into the kitchen, where your boyfriend stood, leaning against the counter. “I told you to order more whiskey, didn’t I?” You felt your stomach drop. You’d forgotten to order more, and you knew it wasn’t going to end well.
“Yes… yes sir,” Your anxiety was going through the roof, your heart pounding. Your eyes trail off to the front door behind him. He hadn’t locked it yet, which meant if you were fast enough, you could escape. Oh, how you longed to be able to walk freely, but you knew deep down even trying wouldn’t end well.
“Then why the fuck is there only one bottle left?!” He roars drunkenly, grabbing your shirt, and swings you into the counter. You could feel something snap in your side, more than likely a rib, upon impact. You let out a cry as you collided, and he throws a punch at your cheek, catching you almost on the jaw. Your head shoots to the side, and you find yourself whimpering in pain, unable to cry out. But you were done with this, you couldn't take it anymore. You shove him, and he stumbles backwards into the hallway with a strangled sound of pure rage, and at this moment, your instincts take over. You bolt over to the door, the adrenaline coursing through your veins keeping you from collapsing in pain as you run. It was raining, not heavily, but just enough to make it hard to see. You manage to cross the street, and keep running. It had to be night, as all the streetlights were on.
Your heart hammers against your chest, and your breathing now in short, frantic spurts. You slow down after crossing a bridge, and slump against a bench at a park. B/FN hadn’t followed you thankfully, but now, with no phone and little mobility, you allowed yourself to close your eyes, letting the cold rain and pain take your consciousness.
Hobi’s P.O.V (Bc I don’t see his Pov enough in fanfics-)
It began to rain as I finished my last lap around the park, the droplets mixing with the sweat on my face and arms. I needed to head home, or I’d catch a cold or something. My brothers and I got a call from an unknown, blocked number about 6 months ago, and while I tried to be the one to lift up the group, I was nervous about Y/n’s safety. We’d never liked her boyfriend, but she completely vanished almost a year ago. She wasn’t at her job, and no one had seen her around. They’d both moved as well, and her boyfriend had gotten a new job (I believe, his old place said he’d “found somewhere better” in his words), so tracking them down was close to impossible.
I sigh softly, before heading toward the bridge that was only half a mile away from home. It was the closest exit of the park, but it wasn’t well used. Not many people knew about it. I saw a disheveled figure laying on one of the wooden benches, and I felt my curiosity grow. It was probably a homeless person, but something seemed familiar. I walk over, and find a woman with a large bruise on her right cheek, and she was only wearing a long sleeved shirt and jeans; no shoes, no jacket, and more than likely no ID. I frowned a bit at this. It looked like she’d just up and ran out of her house, or wherever she’d come from.
I gingerly place my hand on her forehead. She’s been out here longer, and I was almost willing to bet money that she was already close to being, if not already, sick. I click my tongue. I needed to get home, but she obviously needed a place to stay. She was out cold, so I suppose she couldn’t argue about me giving her a place to stay until she felt better.
I pick her up bridal style, before taking a moment to really look over her features, and in those few seconds, the world seemed to stop. Y/n…?
I kick the door to our house, unable to knock properly. “Seokjin!” I was absolutely soaked, and shivering. It had taken 20 minutes to get back, and if I was suffering, Y/n must be worse; she’d been out there as long as it had been raining. A tired, disgruntled Jin opens the door. Before he can say anything, I push past him, into the open living room. Out of my 6 other brothers, he was the eldest, and I didn’t know who else would be up this late.
“Hoseok, what the hell is this? Who is…” His eyes met the figure on my back, and he stopped short. “Is that..?” He was shocked, and honestly, I was myself. After so fucking long, we managed to find our little sister. And she was half dead, probably sick and unhealthily thin. Enraged wasn’t even going to cover it, and dead wasn’t going to cover what I was going to do to who did this.
“Yah, what’s going on-” Namjoon, Yoongi and Jimin make their way into the room, Yoongi griping about the noise under his breath.
As if a message had been sent mentally, Jimin visibly became distraught. “Oh fuck-” A hand flew to his mouth, and his eyes were as wide as noodle bowls. Namjoon’s expression darkened majorly, pacing over towards us. Yoongi, on the other hand, looked both pissed and worried. He was one to stay nonchalant, sure, but there was a dark pit in his eyes.
Jimin timidly follows Namjoon, and the two sit beside me, looking over the damage. Jimin’s voice cracks, before he clears his throat. He waits for a moment, before speaking “Should-Should I go get Tae and Jungkook..? They should know-”
Namjoon’s P.O.V
Her lips purse, and I gently shush Jimin. They needed to know, but we also needed to figure out what happened. And if that douchebag laid a hand on her, caused these bruises… there was going to be hell to pay. Her eyes shoot open, and she begins frantically scooting backwards. “Oh god, I-I’m sorry, please don’t-” A sob rips it’s way out of her throat, and I could feel my heart drop to my feet and shatter. She thought we were going to hurt her; she thought we, her brothers, were going to hurt her.
I raise my hands, trying to signal that I wasn’t going to do anything, hoping my brothers followed suit, and that this worked. “Hey, hey, it’s ok. You’re Y/n, right?” As furious as I was, anger wasn’t the emotion she needed to see. Jimin backs up a little, as if unsure what to do, and Seokjin had left the room. Y/n needed medical attention, and Hoseok hopefully was going to help himf get the things needed. She nods slowly, her e/c eyes darting around the room uneasily. She was nervous, and with how she looked, she had every right to be. “I won’t hurt you- None of us will hurt you. I promise; I know it’s probably hard to believe that, but I won’t touch you unless you say it’s ok, ok?” I keep my tone soft, approaching slowly.
She was messing with the hem of her soaked shirt, no longer looking around, but at her hands. “O…...okay,” I sit on the opposite end of the couch, allowing a decent amount of space in between us. Did she not remember us?
“Who are you…y-you guys…?” Her voice quivers slightly, not looking up. Yoongi, at this, leaves the room, pure, unveiled rage on his features. I could understand, but I was grateful he left. Anger isn’t what we needed. Jimin silently follows, leaving us alone, and I could tell she was a little bit more anxious now than before.
I find myself exhaling softly. “Y/n, do we seem familiar, even if only a little?” A small nod, her hands stopping. “Do you remember trying to call a number a while back?” Another nod, her body starting to shake. “You’d tried to contact your brothers… that was us.”She slowly looks at me, as if scared, before tearing up. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry-” She softly whimpers, and I gently take her hands. She was shaking badly, and she was shivering on top of that. She seems hesitant to let me hold her hands, but still allowed me to.
“Let’s get you changed, and we can talk more after, ok? We have a spare room, and no one will come in unless you need help. I can leave some clothes too; you must be cold.” I keep my tone calm, rubbing circles on the backs on her hands with my thumbs. She nods, before softly asking me something. “Can… can you walk with me..?” She seemed genuinely terrified, and my heart broke a little more. Her breathing had slowed to a much more relaxed pace, but was still a little quick, and seemed pained. “Of course.”
Your P.O.V
I was scared, but… he wasn’t lying. I look at myself in the mirror after finishing a warm shower, and I could feel embarrassment beginning to pool in my stomach. I was a bruised mess, and I looked horrid. Everything hurt too, especially my chest. Could I trust these people…? Were they really my brothers..?
I shake my head, before peeking out into the room. There was clothing on the large bed, some joggers and a t-shirt. The room itself was well designed, and fairly expensive looking. The door leading to the hallway was still shut, so I walk out into the large room, covered in a towel wrapped around my body. The curtains were drawn, making sure no one could see in. I let it drop, changing into the shirt and joggers.
The brother (?) who was kind to me… who was that? And who brought me here? These questions swirl in my mind as I hang up the towel, not wanting to get yelled at for that. I peek into the hallway, seeing someone walking away. He heard my door open, and as soon as he begins to turn around, I shut it.
My heart was pounding, and I could hear his footsteps approaching. He was taller than I was, so he was probably stronger too. A soft knock jolts me out of my thoughts. “Y/n..?” His voice was soft, and I step away from the door. The door opens, revealing the man who had looked angry earlier. My anxiety begins to grow. “Namjoon wanted me to check up on you. His clothes seem a bit big though… but we have some hot chocolate if you’d like some.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking up at me. He didn’t seem as angry, but I couldn’t help but wonder if it was towards me or not.
“U-um… where’s the kitchen…?” I learned their names quickly, after my memories began to return. I hold my mug with a little cat on it, wrapped up in a blanket on their couch. Namjoon had been the one to talk to me, and Jimin was the one who helped me find my way back. Hoseok had brought me here after finding me in the park.Yoongi was helping me with some cuts and bruises, a stoic expression on his face. “Noona, what happened..?” Jungkook’s expression was worried, but nervous. “Where have you been all this time?” His voice was worried, but gentle, and knowing who they were helped calm me a lot to being around them.
I gulp a little, messing with the mug. Tae had given me a gentle hug, thankfully not squeezing too hard. I was grateful, and nervous. Would they think I was weak..? I explained what had happened, watching my fingers. How he had tricked me into moving in with him, then quitting my job to please him, and how it was never enough. “Before… before I left, we got… we got into a fight. He- he hit me, a-and, hurt my chest-” My voice shook horribly, tears leaving my eyes. My brothers were silent, before I felt arms around me, more and more holding me as I cried.
“It’s ok to cry… you’re safe now.”
“You’re safe.”
Part Two here
#bts taehyung#bts reader insert#bts#bts tae#bta taehyung#bts suga#bts namjoon#bts Min Yoongi#bts Kim Namjoon#bts Kim Taehyung#bts Jung Hoseok#bts jeon jungkook#bts j-hope#bts jeongguk#bts Jin#bts Kim Seokjin#bts jimin#bts park jimin#bts chimchim#bts comfort#bts angst#bts tw
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Ivity and Anx: part twenty-one
Summary: Virgil and Roman hate each other to the core of their beings, but both become friends with a new stranger via the Sarrahas Project. Virgil takes to Creativity as well as Roman does to Anxiety, but they don’t know the true identity of the ones they’re slowing falling for.
Word count: 6615
Warnings: Body image issues, self-destructive thoughts, eating disorder/starving purposefully, negative thoughts about body, mild panic attack, talk of court hearings and trials, mild talk of parental abuse, a lot of swearing
Pairings: Slowburn Prinxiety, Logicality
A/N: sometimes i wish this was the last chapter purely so it stopped at 21 like twenty one pilots. the summary stopped applying to the entire story like,, halfway through but i dont want to change it because thats what this story was originally centered around btw logan’s birthday is august 31st, 2001
taglist at the end; masterlist
Roman was looking at himself in the bathroom mirror. He’d gotten out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist and froze when he saw his reflection. He knew that he’d gain a little when because Virgil was making him eat at least two full meals a day, but what he saw was ridiculous. It was like he’d eaten nothing but butter, potato chips, and cake for the last week. He’d gained so much weight.
He couldn’t see his collarbones anymore. Roman ran his hands over where they once were. He could still feel them, but they weren’t as noticeable as before. Next Roman moved his hands to his face and squished it. There was far more chub to his cheeks than before.
Roman felt his breathing getting faster as his mind started racing. Roman, you fucking idiot! How could you let yourself eat that much food?! Look at yourself! You’ll never lose any of that back. You’ll be this ugly mess of a man forever now. Damn it, Roman! Slowly Roman sank to the floor and held his arms around his waist, trying to squeeze it in.
Virgil just finished with a court hearing to decide his fate. He found out that nothing would be set in stone until after the trial. However, he had no relatives to move in with while his father was in prison, so that left two options. He owed Patton more than anything because without him saying that his family would be willing to take Virgil in, he would’ve ended up in the foster care system. That idea scared him senseless because he’d never get out. Who would have wanted a teen as fucked up like him?
Virgil sighed as he unlocked the door to Roman’s house, glad that Roman had lent him the key before his hearing. It felt weird walking into the house without Roman next to him. Almost like he didn’t belong there. He looked around the bottom floor to tell Roman the news. When he didn’t see Roman downstairs he decided to head upstairs to the room he was staying in to start folding his clothes and tell him after.
Once he got to the top of the stairs he could faintly hear sobs from the other side of the closed bathroom door. He didn’t see the other car in the driveway--just Roman’s in the street--so he knew Roman was the only one home. Virgil quickly rushed to the door and knocked on it, his anxiety going through the roof.
“Princey?” He listened but the only noise that answered him was a choked sob. His hand grasped the gold doorknob handle. “Ro, I’m coming in.”
Virgil quickly turned the doorknob and rushed inside, glad that it was unlocked. His heart broke when he saw Roman curled in on himself on the floor. He rushed to the other boy’s side and kneeled next to him. Hesitantly, he put his hands on Roman’s shoulders like Logan often did to him. He tried to quell the awkward feeling rising in his stomach brought on by Roman’s shirtless shoulders.
“Princey. Look at me.” Roman shook his head, still crying and still facing the ground. He said something, but it was too faint for Virgil to understand. “Ro, please. You need to look at me. I need to know what’s wrong.” Virgil hated how his voice broke on the word ‘please,’ but he didn’t care. Roman needed help.
Slowly, as if doing the action in water, Roman lifted his head just enough that he could look at Virgil from under his wet hair. “You don’t wanna look at my ugly face.” Roman mumbled, barely loud enough to be heard.
Virgil felt his heart break once again. “Roman,” he started, voice almost wavering. The name felt odd on his tongue, but a good kind of odd. “Your face is not ugly.”
“Yes, it is!” Roman screamed. Virgil was taken back by the sudden change but did not move. “It’s hideous and fat! I’m fucking fat, Virgil! Look at me! You can’t see my fucking collar bones anymore and my fucking face is huge and you can see my stomach and I don’t have any fucking abs anymore and it’s all just ugly!”
“It is not ugly, Princey, nor are you fat. You’ve started eating regularly. After so long of you starving yourself your body thinks it’s going to happen again, so it tries to fight that. Fuck, I wish I knew as much as Logan right now. He’d be able to explain why better than me. I looked it up before, and your body holds onto the fat for a while after you stop starving yourself so it can burn it later if you stop eating again. But once it realizes you’re eating regularly without starving it, it’ll burn that fat away. You don’t have to starve yourself to look thin. Just give your body time.”
“I don’t have that time! Damn it, Virgil, you don’t get it! I have to look good because it’s how I’m supposed to as the Prince! This this this useless ugly flab is going to ruin that!” Tears were streaming down Roman’s face.
Virgil didn’t know how to help his friend. He knew that he wanted to because he cared deeply for him, maybe even loved him in a way. Closing his eyes, Virgil tried to remember how Logan helped him through a freakout. Right now he just hoped he would find a way to help Roman like he’d been helped.
“Roman. Roman, I want you to take a deep breath for me okay? Do you think you can do that?” Virgil watched as Roman tried to take one but it came out shaky. “It’s okay Roman. Roman, we can do it again. I’m going to count it out with you okay? Ready?”
Roman watched his friend help him through the breathing exercise that he had used to help calm Virgil down. It was slow going, every few breaths at first, Roman would let a sob escape. Virgil never seemed upset by that. He just kept reassuring that it would be okay and went back to counting. Eventually Roman was able to do one full set without sobbing, then a second.
After the fifth cycle of breathing Virgil smiled at Roman. “Good job.” Gently he used his sweater paw to wipe the tears off the other man’s face. “You did really good, Roman.”
Roman couldn’t help but sniff. “Thank you.” He said softly.
“Of course, Sir Sings-a-lot.” There was a faint smile tugging on Virgil’s lips. “Look, I know that dealing with… shit, what does Logan call them? Cognitive… something. Fuck,” Roman couldn’t help but smile at how flustered Virgil was getting. “Anyway, it’s when your brain makes something out to be worse than it really is. Dealing with that is really hard, and I’m not expecting you to be better right now, but I want you to know that you are not ugly or fat. Yes, you’ve put on a couple pounds, but that’s your body trying to prepare to starve again. If you keep eating regularly your body will see that it doesn’t have to store those pounds anymore and it will be used up.
“You’ll be looking like your stunning Princely self in no time,” Virgil’s heart beat slightly faster as he said that for a reason unknown to him. “But you have to keep eating how you have been. I know it’ll be hard but trust me. It will be worth it.”
Roman couldn’t help but admit his heart did a flip at Virgil calling him ‘stunning’. “How do you know it’ll go away?”
“Dude, I’m not Logan. I don’t have a list of reasons ready at the drop of a hat. But I looked into what your body does while combating an eating disorder before I knew you were Ivity. I wanted to know as much about what you were going through to help as much I could... Your body stores the fats of any food you eat so it has something to burn off when you stop eating again. That’s why everything looks worse than it actually is. But it will get burnt off when your body realizes that it doesn’t need to store it anymore.”
“How long do you think that will take?” Roman asked tentatively, shifting on the floor. As he became very aware that he was in nothing but a towel, a blush rose to his face.
Virgil noticed the blush but didn’t realize why. He’d forgotten about it himself. “It depends on you. If you keep eating like we have been, a couple weeks? If you go back to starving for any period of time it’ll be longer. But I’m going to be here to help you through it.” He gently moved his hand down to be reassuringly on Roman’s arm. In doing so his eyes were drawn to Roman’s body. As it dawned on him again why Roman was blushing, he couldn’t help but blush as well.
The two boys sat flustered on the bathroom floor for a few moments. Roman was the first to speak. “Thank you, Virgil.”
“Of course, Princey. It’s the least I could do after you pulled me back from several attacks. Sorry I wasn’t better at it.”
Roman shrugged. “You didn’t know what would help me. And you tried which means a lot. Sorry for snapping at you.”
“‘S okay. Logan’s heard what he’s deemed as my ‘demon voice’ a couple times when there was a really bad attack so I think it’s more normal.”
“Your ‘demon voice?’” Roman asked, raising his eyebrow.
“He said it sounds like my voice gets lower when I’m dealing with some really bad stuff. I can’t tell the difference but I guess Logan can.”
“Interesting,” Roman commented, remembering something similar happening during Virgil’s worst attack. “I don’t want to hear that more than once.”
“What, scared?” Virgil teased him. “I thought Princes were supposed to deal with scary things?”
“Ha. Ha.” Roman answered sarcastically with a smile before looking more serious. “I don’t want to know what it sounds like again because I don’t want you to have an attack that bad again.”
Virgil’s jaw dropped open for a minute. “Uh… I…”
“It’s okay. I know you were trying to get me to smile. And it worked.”
“Good.”
“Now if you don’t mind I’m going to go change and you can tell me how your court hearing went.”
“Yeah. Sounds good.”
Virgil scrambled to his feet and offered Roman a hand. Roman accepted it and got to his feet, his other hand holding the towel in place. After both were standing Virgil let go of Roman’s hand and rushed out of the room, his cheeks still faintly rosy. What he couldn’t see was the tint on Roman’s face as well as he walked to his bedroom to change.
Roman closed the door to his room and sighed. He knew that Virgil was right, but it was still hard. He felt gross in his own body. Quickly he got dressed, putting on one of his baggier shirts. Once that was done he walked back into the bathroom to hang the towel back up. With a sigh, he turned and faced the mirror.
Without knowing why Roman gently poked at his cheeks and then his stomach. “It will be alright, Roman.” He said softly under his breath, hoping that saying the words out loud would make them come true. “You’ll be ok. You’ll look like you again. Patton will still love you like this. Virgil will still care for you. He already proved that.” With a deep breath, Roman squared his shoulders and walked out of the bathroom towards his brother’s old room. Gently he knocked on the open door.
Virgil looked up from his folding. “Hey. Come on in.”
“Hey.” Roman walked in and gently sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb any of the folded clothes. “Want some help?”
“You don’t have to.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Alright. No point in turning down the help.” The two worked in silence for several minutes. Roman was worried about what Virgil found out at the hearing but he wasn’t sure how to ask. Virgil wanted to tell Roman the good news about Patton’s family taking him in, but he figured the monotonous task would help calm him.
Finally, Roman’s curiosity got the better of him. “Hey, Virge?”
“Yeah?”
“How did the thing go?”
“It went okay. I found out nothing is set in stone but for now, I’m away from him. Since he’s in jail.”
“That’s awesome, Virgil,” Roman’s relief was clear. “Wait. Where are you going to go then? Are you going into the system?” Panic was showing again. He hated that he couldn’t help. His mothers knew that he felt strongly for Virgil, but they were worried that if he stayed for much longer, there would be constant ‘alone time’ between them.
Virgil shook his head. “Thankfully no. If no one had offered to take me in I would’ve, but Patton’s family is going to take me in. They said they’ll have a small bed ready for me in Patton’s room tomorrow and that I can have the couch tonight.”
“I’m glad that his family is willing to take you in. I’m sorry you couldn’t stay here. My moms were being ridiculous in their reasoning, but there’s no arguing with them.”
“It’s alright, Roman. Honestly. The fact they let me stay for so long means a lot.”
“Still,” He saw Virgil shrug. “Anyway, you’ll like spending that much time with Patton. I think.”
“It’ll be tiring, but I think I’ll get used to it. I like Patton so it’s a bonus.”
“You’ll get used to his excitement.” The worry Roman had throughout the day was finally gone. He knew that Patton would be able to help Virgil and keep him safe. “And I’m glad you like him.”
“Even if I didn’t, I would be seeing a lot of him between you and him being best friends and him and Logan being together.”
“Fair point. So it really is a bonus that you like him.”
Virgil nodded. “I owe him a lot. If he didn’t talk his family into taking me in I would’ve ended up in the system until I was eighteen. No one would want someone so fucked up.”
“You don’t know that. And you’re not that fucked up.” Roman became defensive when the other boy scoffed. “You’re not.”
“Seriously, Princey? The guy who has anxiety and panic attacks basically every day isn’t fucked up? If I’m not fucked up then I don’t know who is.”
“You have effects of your life showing themselves. Honestly, if anyone went through what you did and didn’t have some pretty bad anxiety, I’d think they would be pretty messed up. You have the anxiety because of what you went through. What was it Patton told you? ‘Scars are a tapestry of our experiences’ I think it was. Think of your anxiety as another scar. It shows you that you survived a horrible experience.”
“Well aren’t you one for turning manure into flowers.” Virgil said dryly, though he couldn’t help but feel a little bit better about his anxiety.
“It’s a gift,” Roman replied with a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips. “Seriously, I think you’re less fucked up than I am.”
“Okay, now that is a load of fucking shit, Ro.”
“I don’t think it is.”
“You feel the way you do because that’s how society has made you feel. If you can’t see your ribs and collarbones and don’t have a six-pack, you’re not handsome. But they’re wrong. And what you’re feeling isn’t bad or stupid. You’re going against what others have shoved down your throat for years and it’s even harder for you since you’re working in the part of society that idolizes that look. But you can still be handsome without looking that way. Patton doesn’t fit that mold and yet Logan gets all tongue-tied around him.”
“That’s because Patton is easy to love.”
“Not in the same way. You don’t love Patton the same way Logan does.”
Roman shrugged. “I still don’t like how I am.”
“No one really likes who they are. But with time they learn to accept who they are. I know I’m a fucked up person with horrible anxiety and scars covering my body. And for a long time, I thought the scars were ugly and just made me even worse than I already was.” Virgil raised his hand to stop Roman from protesting. “But you and Patton are helping me see that I’m more than my scars. That they don’t show who I am. Just like you not liking your body doesn’t show who you are. And with support and time, you’ll learn to accept it. Besides, it’s nicer to hug someone who doesn’t feel like a skeleton.”
Roman couldn’t argue with Virgil’s last comment. He enjoyed Patton’s hugs immensely, partially due to the fact that there was more to hug and that he flowed warmth and comfort. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he wondered if he was nicer to hug now. Patton would tell him he was always nice to hug though so Roman didn’t know if he’d ever get the true answer.
“Maybe...” Roman you know you’ll never accept yourself, why even lie?
“You will, Princey. Just give it time.” Virgil looked at Roman intensely. “To quote Patton, ‘you’re stronger than you seem.’ Just keep moving forward.”
“You don’t play fair, Virgil. You turned Patton’s words on me.”
“You started it. I’m just returning the favor.”
The duo finished folding the clothes in silence. Virgil gently put them into the backpack that Patton lent him. He put the PJs on the top as a reminder to wash and return them to Roman as soon as he could. As much as Roman was glad Virgil was staying with Patton he didn’t want to let the emo leave. He enjoyed spending time with Virgil and having him around. It helped pushed Roman’s fears away knowing that he could protect the lanky boy if he needed. Roman knew that he was safe at Patton’s at well but it didn’t make it easier.
“-ey. Ivity.” Virgil’s voice broke through to Roman.
“I’m sorry. What?”
“I said Patton was talking about doing brunch tomorrow to celebrate getting a roommate.”
“Oh. That would be fun.”
“I thought it would be nice.” Just then the doorbell rang. “That’s probably Patton.”
“I’ll walk you down.”
Virgil picked up the backpack and stood up. Roman stood a moment later and lead the way out of the room into the main floor. Virgil put the bag down to grab his shoes as Roman opened the door.
“Hi, Ro!” Patton greeted cheerfully.
“Hey, Pat. Virge is just getting his shoes on.” Roman moved to let the younger boy in.
Patton stepped into the house, closing the door behind him. “I’m pretty sure that Virgil already told you but I was thinking of you, me, Virgil and Logan going out for brunch tomorrow to celebrate. Plus I think it’d be a nice way to kind of relax, even for a little while.” And for Lolo’s birthday but if I say anything in front of Virgil he might tell Logan.
“He did. And it sounds wonderful.”
Patton bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. “It’s going to be so exciting having a roommate and someone my own age at the house.”
“I’m like a year older than you Patton.” Virgil said, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.
“That’s nothing. We’re still in the same grade so we’re basically the same age”
“Whatever you say, Pat.” There was a small smile forming on Virgil’s lips.
“Are you ready to go?”
“I am.” He turned to look at Roman. “Thank you Princey. For everything.”
“You’re very welcome Virgil. I’ll still be here in you need anything.”
“Likewise. See you tomorrow then.”
“Until then my wonderful subjects.” Roman said with a smile, striking a pose.
“I take it back, I thank you for everything but that.”
Patton couldn’t help but smile proudly at the two boys in front of him. “See you tomorrow kiddo!” He said as he and Virgil walked out of the house.
Virgil followed behind Patton. Despite everything he’d been through this was the first time he felt truly free. Staying with Roman was a reprise from everything, but now knowing that his father was going to be away from him, even for a while, made him feel weightless. He watched as Patton started the car and turned to wave at Roman. As Patton started to drive away he couldn’t help but look forward to his new future, for however long it lasted.
Patton woke up early in the morning as he often did. He stretched his arms over his head and smiled, happy for the new day. It was an extremely important day. It was the first morning that Virgil was staying with him as well as Logan’s birthday. Patton practically bounced off the bed and made his way to the closet.
The youngest boy pulled out two boxes. One contained a joke gift he was going to give Logan, which was cat ears that moved by the power of brainwaves. The other contained the real gifts of a periodic table shower curtain and a TARDIS cookie jar. Patton quickly wrapped the two up neatly, putting a note to open the one containing the gag gift first. Once that was completed, he quietly tiptoed downstairs so he wouldn’t wake Virgil so he could start breakfast.
Patton didn’t need to worry, however, because when he reached the bottom of the stairs he noticed Virgil sitting up on the couch. “Morning, Virgil.” He said softly.
Virgil’s eyes shot up, fear clear in them until they landed on Patton. Recognition crossed the emo’s face and he visibly calmed. “Oh. Morning Pat.”
“Are you okay, kiddo?” Worry ran though Patton like a racecar. The fact that Virgil was so terrified of someone saying good morning to him broke Patton’s heart. A lot of things Virgil was doing was breaking his heart.
“Yeah.” Virgil lied. When he noticed Patton’s look of ‘don’t lie to me; I see straight through you’, he sighed, knowing that he’d be better off with telling the truth. “Didn’t sleep well. Still sort of worried that your family might change their mind. And just worried.”
Patton furrowed his eyebrows but continued to walk into the kitchen. He knew what Virgil meant by saying ‘just worried’ but he wasn’t surprised. That’s a part of the reason for the lunch today. A way to get Virgil’s mind off of things, even for a little while. “Virgil, they wouldn’t do that. They’re not that kind of people… but I understand the fear. Tell you what, why don’t we make a quick breakfast, and then we can get ready to meet with the others? I wanna tell the people at the restaurant that it’s Lo’s birthday before he gets there.”
Panic crossed Virgil’s face as he shifted on his makeshift bed. “Today’s August 31st? Fuck.. fuck! I didn’t finish his present,” Virgil’s hand flew to his hair to tease on it. “He’s going to be so fucking upset. Fuck.”
“Language,” Patton said firmly, still standing in the kitchen. “But, it’ll be okay, my friend. We can stop on the way and pick him up something from you if you want. He would never hate you, especially over forgetting a gift with everything else going on,” He took a small step toward Virgil, but there was still plenty of space between the couch and where Patton stood next to the kitchen island. “It’ll be okay.”
Virgil tried to bring his panic back in check. He knew that Patton was right, but that didn’t stop the guilt from rising up in his chest. He’d never forgotten to buy, or finish making, Logan something for his birthday since the two became friends. You fucked this up too Virgil. His mind started to play. Logan’s going to hate you. He’s going to tell Patton that you’re a horrible friend. You fucking ruin everything, Virgil.
Patton saw Virgil slowly start to spiral down, but he had no idea what to do. Since the older didn’t like to be touched much, and the younger comforted mainly through touch, the two were at an impasse. In an attempt to calm Virgil’s fast running brain, Patton sat down next to Virgil. He hoped the warmth and solidness of a friend next to him were grounding to the older boy. He seemed to be right, as Virgil leaned toward Patton. He didn’t touch him, but there was definitely a move to get closer.
In an attempt to further calm his friend, Patton decided to do what he saw Logan doing sometimes in the midst of panic: ask yes or no questions. “Did you already start on something for Logan’s birthday?” Virgil made a noise of agreement. “Good. I’ll tell you what, do you want to get ready and we can stop at your house?” Another sound of agreement from Virgil. “We can finish the present and maybe get him a jar of Crofters on the way as an apology for not trying the delicious jam for so long?” Patton teased, but it wasn’t in a mean kind of tone. He knew now with Virgil’s dad arrested, he would be safe going back there. Plus, going back to a place that was the home of so much trauma would be easier with a friend by Virgil’s side.
Virgil couldn’t help but chuckle at that, the calm way Patton spoke mixed with the kind joking helped put him more at ease. “I think I’d owe him a lifetime supply of Crofters if that were the case. And… thank you. For coming up with a solution,” He was definitely calmer than before, but still was a bit shaky when he took in a deep breath. “I’m good at pointing out problems, but not really solving them.”
“No problem, kiddo. Now, where do you live again?”
Virgil and Patton were already sitting at Logan’s favorite corner booth at the Corner Cafe when Roman walked in. Patton saw him first, since he was the one facing the door, and waved him over. Roman smiled upon seeing Patton, walking over quickly and sliding in next to Virgil. He placed the bright red, glittery gift bag on the floor by his feet.
“Greetings, wonderful citizens!” Roman declared. He must have been feeling better from his break down the day prior.
Patton giggled, his body wiggling in his seat as he did so. “Hi, Ro!”
“Uh, Princey?” Virgil asked, making a facial expression that was a cross between a sneer and one of being uncomfortable.
“Yes, Yung-brutting?” Roman turned to face Virgil instead of Patton as he talked, using a pun off of the musician YUNGBLUD.
“Switch spots with me?” Virgil hated feeling trapped between the wall and Roman. He always needed a clear path of escape. It was one of the reasons he and Logan’s favorite booth was right next to the emergency exit. But now, Roman was blocking his path out.
Roman could tell that Virgil was feeling uncomfortable, even behind that sneer. Without a second thought, he made a sound of agreement and moved out of the seat. Once Virgil had moved out as well, he slid back into it.
Virgil sat next to Roman again with a small grunt, and an even smaller, “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Roman all but whispered back to him.
“So, Roman, how was your morning so far?” Patton broke into the conversation, almost interrupting Roman, as he didn’t hear the exchange of thanks.
“It was wonderful. I had some toast with Crofters and an apple for breakfast.”
“So it made you look like even more of an asshole?” Virgil quipped.
“Language young man.” Patton chastised him.
At the same time, Roman made an offended noise, doing his signature mock hurt hand pose. It was, thankfully, quieter than normal though. He must have been avoiding attention at the moment, which made both people at the table happy. “Excuse you! And I understand that reference, but still, excuse you!”
Virgil could help but chuckle, but before he could respond Logan, walked up to the table with ‘Salutations’ on his tongue. His eyes immediately found the presents under the table, which made him crack a tiny grin.
“Hi, Lolo!” Patton said as he stood up and hugged the other. “Happy Birthday.”
Logan gently wrapped his arms around the shorter boy, still not completely comfortable with just how affectionate Patton was. He hugged back anyway because he would do anything for Patton, even if the touch was still a little too white-hot on his skin. “Thank you, Patton.”
Virgil could tell that his friend wasn’t completely comfortable with the exchange. While he didn’t know a lot of Logan’s past or the reason why physical signs of affection were so odd for him, he understood. That’s why most of the time the two would do hand touches to show the care or concern. Actually, that’s how Logan putting his hands firmly on Virgil’s shoulders to help ground him started.
“What’s up, Pocket Protector?” He asked as Patton slid back into the booth, scooting over far enough for Logan to join him.
“Nothing truly,” Logan answered as he sat. “It has been a mostly peaceful morning, though I had overslept which will throw off my circadian rhythm until I am able to correct it.” He noticed that Roman had a confused expression. “Simply put, I will need to fix my sleeping and waking schedule.”
“Ah. Thank you for not expecting us all to be nerds and understanding that.”
Logan rolled his eyes as Patton giggled. “Well, it’s your birthday. You’re allowed to do what you want today.”
“Honestly I wish for a peaceful, relaxing day among friends.”
“I think we can manage that one for ya Lo,” Virgil said, knowing that Logan’s life had been thrown into chaos lately. “Let me take a wild guess what you’re getting. Cuz it’s not like you’ve ever gotten it before.” There was a playful yet knowing smirk on Virgil’s lips. Logan rarely differed in his order since he found his favorite.
Logan couldn’t help the fond smile that tugged on his lips. “You’re correct.”
“What is it you normally get, Lolo?” Patton asked, curious.
“Eggs Benedict with an English muffin on the side.” Both Logan and Virgil said in unison.
Patton couldn’t help the loving giggle that escaped him. “Well, that sounds eggcellent.”
Roman chuckled at the pun while Logan playfully rolled his eyes. “What are you going to get, Pat?”
“I’m gonna get the strawberry pancakes with extra strawberries! What about you, Ro?”
“I’m not entirely sure. The spinach and cheese scramble doesn’t sound too bad.”
“Nothing this place has is bad.” Virgil assured him.
Roman nodded. “What about you?”
“Half an order of french toast and a side of hash browns.”
“Is that enough food for you kiddo?” Patton asked worriedly.
Virgil nodded. “It’s plenty of food.”
“If you’re sure.”
“It’s his normal order and he occasionally has a few bites left on his plate.” Logan reassured his Heart.
When the server came, the four ordered their food as well as their drinks. Logan and Virgil got a cup of coffee, Roman ordered a cup of green tea, and Patton got hot cocoa with whipped cream. Once that was taken care of, Patton pulled out the joke gift. “Happy Birthday, Lo.”
“Thank you, Patton.” Logan gingerly took the gift and unwrapped it. He had a look of intrigue and surprise as he pulled the present out. “I-I am at a loss for words Patton. It’s definitely… unique. I’m curious as to how it works. How exactly it reads one's brainwaves to know how the mechanical ears should react is interesting.”
“Great cheese pastry he likes it.” Roman’s awe was clear in the tone of his voice.
“It is a gift I was not expecting but I am curious about it.”
Patton’s smile widened. “Actually I got you another gift too. This one was a joke gift. I’m really glad you like it though.”
Logan’s mouth dropped open. “You mean to tell me this isn’t a cunning plan to get me to understand your love of cats?”
Patton giggled. “No. But you should learn to love cats.” He handed the other gift over.
Logan opened it and smiled at the thoughtfulness. He had told Patton before that the curtain for his shower at the dorm was in dire need of being replaced. Also, it was amazing that Patton remembered his admiration for Doctor Who. An added bonus is he could put many of the Crofters thumbprint cookies in it whenever Patton made some for him. “Thank you, Patton. These are very well thought out gifts and I appreciate them greatly.”
“I’m glad you like them Lolo!” Patton smiled widely.
“My turn Calculator Watch.” Roman pulled out his sparkly bag and slid it over to Logan.
“Thank you, Roman.” Logan hid his annoyance at the glitter that was falling on the table. One thing he noticed about the singer is his love for theatrics and flair. Carefully, Logan pulled out a set of thirty colored pens. Despite his preference for black pens, he couldn’t help but notice these were set in the color of the rainbow, going from dark red and slowly grading into purple by the end. They would be good for color coding. Next, he pulled out a six-pack of highlighters.
The next item was a large pack of multi-colored sticky notes. Reaching further into the bag, Logan removed five different Washi Tapes. To his slight annoyance, two of them were glitter based, but it appeared as if the glitter would stick to the tape and not fall on everything. The final item was a dark navy blue bullet journal. Curious about the color of the paper, Logan opened it. To his relief, he saw the paper was an off-white shade as the stark white of some made him more prone to headaches if he stared at it for too long. Despite his initial hesitancy, this was truly a well thought out gift.
“Thank you, Roman,” Logan said as he returned the items to the bag. “As much as the excessive glitter that is now on the table is infuriating, it is an extremely practical gift.”
“Well, I had to give some sort of excitement to the gift. Besides, anytime you see the glitter you’ll think of me.”
“Whatever you say.” There was a kindness in Logan’s eyes that Roman caught.
“So...um…” Virgil said, looking slightly unsure of his gift. He knew that it would mean a lot but that didn’t hide the fact he was worried Logan would be disappointed in it. “Here.” Virgil handed Logan a small box that is wrapped in the same paper as Patton’s.
“Thank you, Virgil.” Logan took it and opened it carefully. Inside was a heavy spiral notebook. The front and back black covers were plastic as opposed to the thin cardboard material of most. Gently he opened the front cover to check the color of paper, though he knew Virgil knew about how the colored affected him. What he wasn’t expecting was to find writing on the front page. Carefully his eyes scanned over the first paragraph.
‘Hey there Logan. This is Virgil in the past talking. From April 20th of 2018 to be exact, because you like to be exact. So anyway, in this notebook, I’ve written every memory I have ever made with you. Plus how I feel about them. It’s going to be a lot of fucking reading (and it will be kind of messy at times, you know my handwriting fucking sucks. And fuck I wish I could rip out pages but I can’t, they’re numbered) but I know that you can get through it. I know YOU, Pocket Protector. Just like you know me. And honestly? I’m glad I know you. And, thanks for being in my life. Fuck that was cheesy.’
Logan couldn’t help the tears that were forming in his eyes. Gently he took his napkin and dabbed his eyes under his glasses. He knew that Virgil must have had to save for weeks to be able to buy this notebook, but he didn’t care. The fact that he had taken the time to write all of these things down meant more to Logan than anything he could’ve gotten.
“Virgil…”
“I know its a little over the top, but you already have like 15 notebooks for notes, and I knew that one more fucking empty notebook wouldn’t be of any use--” Virgil was rattling off, not looking at Logan but instead at the table.
“I love it.” Logan managed, a small crack in his voice in the middle of the word ‘love.’ That made Virgil look up, which made him see the tears still welling in Logan’s eyes.
“Oh, shit, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“Just shhh and take the compliment, Virge.” Roman whispered from his spot in the corner. A small glance from both of the darker wearing boys saw that he was smiling fondly. His hand was over his mouth as if he were trying to hide the smile. He loved being able to read upside down. And the fact that Logan had set the notebook flat on the table helped.
Patton silently passed his napkin to Logan once he finished reading the paragraph. It took all he had to not coo and squeal at the adorableness of what was written. Virgil had told him earlier what was in the notebook, but seeing Virgil’s heart painted across the page was a whole different story.
Logan nodded thanks to Patton as he turned and blew his nose. This moment proved to everyone who called him emotionless that they were wrong. Logan knew that he felt emotions; there was a barrage of them hitting him now. Undoubtedly, love was the one he felt the strongest. It was almost like he could feel the love that Virgil poured into his writing.
“I love it,” Logan repeated again once he got himself composed. “Honestly, Virgil. This is a wonderful gift and I... I look forward to reading it.”
“Really?” Virgil couldn’t keep the awe from his voice.
“Really.” Logan gently closed the book back up and slid it carefully into the box that also held the cat ears. “Thank you, Virgil.”
“You’re, uh, welcome Logan.”
Patton smiled widely at the little group of friends. It was clear that the four of them all cared for one another. His heart swelled with love as the food was brought out. He wanted to hug them all close to him and never let go. However, with the table between them all, it was impossible to do. What was possible was for him to gently hug Logan’s arm in a show of love.
“Thank you, Patton.” Logan said gently as he took a sip of his coffee.
“You’re welcome Lolo.”
The four friends ate in mostly silence, just enjoying one another's company. Logan found the peacefulness to be helpful for Virgil which was an added bonus. The young emo was relaxed for the first time in a few months. Logan would cherish this time forever. He just hoped that the calm would last.
And then, the calm did not last.
next part
Taglist: @rileyfirstname @verymuchanidiot @definentlynotjustanotherlemon @silversmith-91 @kanejandkruge @sander-fander-sides @lovecrazyjennybear @the-incedible-sulk @hexdream18243 @crows-with-hats @monikastec @definenormalifyoucan @i-am-absolute-fandom-trash @applecannibal @cats-with-blogs @bubblycricket @witchcraft--and--wizardry @bunnyartie @quietlypondering @elusivefalsehoods @hghrules @royallyanxious @quietwords-loudthoughts @squishynonbinarytwink @sortablue @illogical-anxieties @savingshae @a-fander-named-skittles @thelowlysatsuma @ughthatsprettygay @im-so-infinitesimal @certifiedtrashxx @karmels-stuff @sanders-sides-trash-blog @musicqueen1239 @the-average-loner @nicological1 @oh-star-how-the-mighty-fall @surleytemple @nervous-collection @asapmy @super-magical-wizard @arandompasserby @serenitythepanther @ijustrealizedhowdumbmynamewas @kaioanxiety @liz-a-bell @afilhadehades-blog @coffee-fueled-art @multifandomwierdo
#fail's writing#fails writing#i forgot which one was my actual tag akjsdfs#sanders sides fanfiction#sanders sides#virgil sanders#roman sanders#patton sanders#logan sanders#roman angst#virgil angst#im really bad at remebering to post but here you go my dudes
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Call out my name (prologue)
pairing: Bucky x reader
warnings: none
word count: 1k+
a/n: this is written for Dragon’s 3k Follower Creative Content Challenge, and this will probably be around 6 or 7 parts. takes place before civil war happened.
@green-eyeddragonfanfiction
summary: the reader has suffered through the death of her family because of hydra, and through their torture she got her ability to control thermal energy. she escapes and is on the run, until she runs into Bucky in Romania.
masterlist
It was dark, and the streets were deserted. Half of the streetlights were broken, there were a total of about three drunks stumbling down the road, trying to sing traditional Romanian songs, but you were pretty sure they weren’t singing the same part or the same song for that matter.
You were on the run, from a big bad wolf organisation by the scary name of Hydra. You’d think if you were trying to be a secret you’d find a nameless ominous and ridiculous than that, but bad guys have a flair for the dramatic don’t they. Slowly it was falling apart though. Thanks to the Avengers, people were being exposed, bases being found and destroyed. But despite their efforts, Hydra was still out there, and still deadly.
You changed your travelling times, varying between the day and the night, wearing different clothes, never staying in one city for too long. You arrived in Romania just two days ago and were planning to leave this city in a few more days.
Finding a place to sleep was one of the hardest things, along with food. You didn’t like sleeping in exposed areas, so you usually went into an apartment building, and you would go up to the top floor where there would often be no apartments just an exit to the roof. It wasn't comfortable, but nothing has been comfortable for years.
Found a new building to sleep in every two nights; not so often that you had to scout for a new building every day, but not staying enough for people to take notice of you. This building was on the higher ground, but there were structures nearby to jump on from this building. Accessible location and multiple exits should you be found. Before heading into the building to you made sure to look around the perimeter, and scanned the surrounding area for any signs that Hydra was here. Finding yourself satisfied, you quietly padded up the stairs, taking note of everything you could hear and smell from every apartment.
Settling down in the corner of the top floor between the door and the wall, you got out a ratty blanket from your backpack, and covered yourself with it. It didn’t provide much heat, but it helped you contain the heat once you absorbed it from your surroundings. Slowly focusing your powers on sucking in the heat from various apartments, the building got colder as you warmed yourself.
just like many others who been through Hydra’s jaws and then spat out, nightmares plagued you. Trying to put off sleeping as much as you could, you were thinking about what your plan was, or rather, the plan that you didn’t have. You didn’t know where you were running, or how you plan of action was going to play out. All you knew was that hydra deserved payback for what they did to your family.
Unknown to you, downstairs there was another one of Hydra’s failed experiments being troubled by sleep. Bucky rarely slept, but when he did it was due to exhaustion, as it was the only way he could stop from dreaming and waking up the entire neighbourhood with the horror that he has seen. Being frozen so much made Bucky both less sensitive to it, however, he still hated it so much. That's why when the whole building seemed to get colder a shiver went down his spine, and he knew it wasn’t because of the heating. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of it, but since it didn’t raise any alerts in his gut, he decided that it was a mistake on his part, and continued reading his journals, trying to figure out what was true and what was false.
By the next morning, you were burning up, having absorbed the heat of the whole building, leaving it bone-chilling cold. You wondered whether or no the inhabitants noticed the drop in the temperature, but you didn’t particularly care because even if they did report it, you doubt anything would be done about it, as it was late February and this wasn’t the wealthiest neighbourhood in town.
Folding your blanket into your backpack, you let out a deep breath calming yourself and letting the heat inside of you out, warming the air around you. This happened every night, thanks to the nightmares. You made your way downstairs, thinking of what to do today. Skipping to different towns was hard, but you didn't have a choice. There was no destination in your mind; you were more lost than you would like to admit. While contemplating where you should go to pick some pockets, you had heard a door opening below you, bringing you to a halt. You went lower to the ground, trying to be unnoticed.
A Bucky stepped out, a tall stranger with shaggy brown hair reaching just below his ears, while wearing a baseball cap. He locked his door before walking down the stairs; however, he wasn't a super soldier assassin for nothing. The hair on the back of his neck had risen, and so to avoid suspicion, he kept going downstairs, until he reacher the ground floor and hid behind a corner, waiting for you. He then opened the door, and you heard it close before he went back into the corner.
Assuming now that he was outside, you ran down the stairs as fast as you could without making any noise. Then you walked right past him without even noticing he was there. Opening the door, you stepped outside and looked around the street. You knew you couldn't be more than a few seconds behind him, and then it hit you. He heard you and now he was hiding. Shit. Because now that you got his attention, you may not be able to shake it off.
Fuck okay, new plan. Starting to walk normally down the street, you’d hoped that the stranger would assume that you thought he went that way and you fell into his trap. Getting out a small mirror from your pocket, you stopped at a stop light and pretended to be checking you make up while looking behind you. You couldn’t see him. You had a suspicion that he wasn’t just another citizen, a tingling dark feeling that something wasn’t right.
The small encounter gave you anxiety for the rest of the day, so you tried to get as far from that part of the town. Occupying yourself with stealing pocket money, eventually, you got enough to buy some new clothes and a wig, reassuring yourself that you wouldn't be found or recognised by him. You hadn't seen his face, but you saw the way that he moved, like a shadow, ghosting through places unnoticed. You didn't know who he was, but he was smart to have noticed you. Or maybe you weren't as cautious as you thought you were; probably it was both.
Having been spooked by the stranger, you still couldn't leave yet, as you didn't have a ride. Fortunately, it was a big city with many corners to hide.
chapter 1
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Hey. First I love your writing. Second I have a prompt for you if u have the time. Idk if u prefer vague or not but the time team gets separated during a mission and it's in the middle of a battle(to be chosen by you) and Lucy ends up getting knocked out and when Wyatt finds her he panics thinking she's dead and starts crying and admits that he loves her and she can't leave him and she wakes up and they kiss once back at mason. This would be pre relationship/ start of relationship.
Anon said: Lucy get’s severlyhurt in a mission and Wyatt blames himself and freaks out for it.
Anon – this prompt came insoon thereafter yours did, and I figured they were so close that I couldcombine them. HOWEVER, as I was writing, I had a second idea, which was muchmore vague than this prompt called for, and so I think I’ll write another onefor you that fits yours a bit more and this one much less. SO WATCH THIS SPACE.
mockingjays-daughter, you’re a legend and your praise gives me life and inspiration. and about the vague thing; i actually don’t really mind at all. the more specific you are the more likely i am to write something you had already pictured and want to see. if its vague i’ll just do what i want which might be very different to what you intended. so really its up to you!
SO I feel like thispoint needs some explanation. I decided against a love confession in the battle,bc when I was writing it I was thinking that this would be set pretty soonafter the season 1 finale, and in my personal opinion (that, while I understandothers might not agree with, I unfortunately project into my writing), I justdon’t think they’re in love yet. YET. I truly do think that’s where they’reheading, though, and I think Lucy is a little more in it than Wyatt.
I wrote the scene three orfour times, and in the end I decided that a confession just didn’t fit in withthe way I’d been writing them, my understanding of their feelings, and in thescene in general. I snuck it in a little bit at the end (which felt much morenatural to me), so I hope that’s enough? I’m really sorry about it though, bcit was in the prompt and I probably should have just sucked it up and done it,but …
Also this is vaguelyinspired by that snippet in the promo for the show. Enjoy!
high on the sunlit violence read on ao3!
Lucy keeps an eye on theclock the whole time they’re in the room. They’ve not been tied up, and theofficial word is that they’re not prisoners, but it sure feels like they are(and Wyatt says they won’t even know how fucked they truly are until itsalready too late).
They’d been found in theearly hours of the morning, and put in the room they’re currently in at 4:37am.It’s now 6:52, and there’s less than an hour until the base is bombed.
Wyatt and Rufus know itstoday, but they don’t know that it will be so soon, and she can’t even warnthem because there’s a mirror in this room and she’s seen enough T.V. to knowshe shouldn’t trust that no-ones listening. And maybe it’d save a lot of livestoday, but the Allies can’t win the war without the U.S., so she’ll keep hermouth shut.
Her leg is bouncing and itsimultaneously feels like time has slowed to passing like the syrup of honey,and like even with the Lifeboat she will never be able to stop time fromgetting to the point it will.
Rufus’s anxiety is feedingoff of hers, until he seems almost more panicked than she does. Wyatt, somehow,is keeping calm, though that may be because he’s been in situations like thisbefore (though never exactly likethis before; Pearl Harbor becomes of the most famous surprise attacks inhistory, and with good reason).
Eventually, though, shecan’t keep her mouth shut any longer. “Guys,” she whispers hurriedly, “we needto get out of here, now. Back to theLifeboat. We don’t have long –“
A voice crackles through asmall speaker in the corner of the roof. “No talking.”
Lucy waits several moreminutes, but then starts speaking again. “We have 18 minutes,” she saysharshly.
“No talking!”
It doesn’t matter. Theyknow now. And no one else is any wiser.
Rufus starts to breathe alitter heavier and even Wyatt seems alarmed now.
“We need a distraction,”Wyatt says lowly. “And I need a – a pin, or something.”
The door slams open. A manin uniform, to the same effect as their costumes, steps into the room.
Lucy and Rufus sit alittle straighter, but Wyatt remains relaxed, though Lucy knows that meansnothing; the man was the most observant person she knows, he’d hardly not beanalyzing everything about this newcomer.
The man sits, but doesn’tsay anything. The longer he’s there, the more anxious the three get, thoughWyatt attempts to conceal it. Probably because the longer he’s there, the moresmug the man looks, likely in response to their growing panic (though he doesn’tknow it has nothing to do with him).
The clock seems to tickslower and slower but faster and faster and before any of them have had a real crack at talking their way out, ormaking some kind of distraction, they hear the sound of an explosion fromoutside.
“What the –“
Wyatt takes theopportunity of the man’s distraction and knocks him out with a single punch.
They all stare for asecond, and then the building rocks from the force of a bomb dropped close byand they spring into action. They get out of the building quickly enough, andwhen the door opens they pause for a moment in shock at the sight before them.
Men are shooting into thesky as bullets and bombs rain down from it. There is complete chaos everywhere,and a lot of people are already dead.
Lucy spies a car directlyin front of them and shouts, “Run!”
The three duck and weavethrough the anarchy and jump into the car. Wyatt turns the key and starts todrive, just as the pile of crates that had been beside them explodes.
Their ears ring andeverything is muted, but Wyatt just keeps driving. They have a couple miles todrive to get to the Lifeboat, and he wants the three of them out of here assoon as possible.
He thinks they are safe asthey drive out of the thick of it, but then he feels Lucy smack his arm and shoutout a panicked, “Wait!”
He slams on the breaks andbefore the car has stopped, and before he realizes what she’s doing, she’sjumped from the car and is running away from them.
“No, Lucy, wait, wait!”
But she’s gone.
“Fuck!” he shouts, andhits the steering wheel. “Rufus, stay with the car. Make sure no one takes it.”
He runs after her, andspots her in the distance kneeling down by someone injured.
“Lucy!” he yells. “Lucy,get back in the fucking car!”
She looks at him over hershoulder and shouts back, “He’s hurt. We can’t –“
The whistle of a bombdropping makes his heart stop. He runs towards her faster.
The force of it knocks himback and on his ass.
It takes him a minute toblink away the confusion in his head, and then Rufus is there, helping himstand. He blinks many times, trying so hard to focus but unable to.
“Loo-shee,” he slurs.“Where – where’s Lucy?”
Rufus slings Wyatt’s armaround him. “I don’t know! Look, I need to get you back to the car. Just holdon, alright!”
There’s blood drippingdown his face and he touches his fingers to it.
“Lu – Lucy. Rufus, getLucy.”
Suddenly, he’s sitting inthe car again and Rufus has disappeared. He slips in and out of consciousness,jolted into awareness by the sound of bombs.
It seems like forever whenRufus finally gets back, an unconscious Lucy in his arms. Rufus gently puts herin the back seat next to Wyatt, then goes around the start driving.
Wyatt can feel tears onhis face, maybe from the pain of the wounds he’s now feeling, maybe from thesheer terror of seeing Lucy in such a way (he know which one it is: Lucy.Always Lucy).
The car starts to move,but Wyatt ignores it, lets Rufus take point, and instead reaches out a hand toher face.
There’s dried blood fromher ears and nose, and a cut on her forehead just behind her hairline that’sstill bleeding.
“Please be okay,” hewhispers, caressing her face lightly. “I can’t lose you, too.”
They get back to theLifeboat quickly, and Rufus first helps Lucy in, then Wyatt.
When they get back to2017, Lucy is still unconscious and Wyatt now has to deal with a severe bout ofnausea as well as the buzzing migraine is his head.
Rufus helps Wyatt stumbleout of the Lifeboat, and there’s a flurry of movement around them to help them.
Wyatt suddenly findshimself in the medical room, Lucy in a bed beside him. He floats in and out ofconsciousness, people coming in and out to check on both him and Lucy.
When he finally comes toproperly, almost 24 hours later, Lucy is already awake, sitting up in her bed andreading a book on Pearl Harbor.
When she sees him awakeand looking at her, she closes the book, thumb marking the page, and waves itat him.
“Stayed the same,” shesmiles.
“Must have had someunknown ripple effect,” he gripes, then sits up, hand on his head.
She stops smiling.
“Sorry,” he says. “Just .. . sorry.”
She shrugs. “I’ve come toexpect such pessimism from you,” she replies.
He rolls his eyes, butconcedes he is usually the doom and gloom of the trio.
Memories of the bombsurface, of being separated from her and not knowing if she was alive or dead.They make it difficult to breathe.
He takes a moment to takeher in, then asks, “Are you okay?”
She shrugs a shoulder thenopens her book again and begins to read. He watches her, her hair pulled backin a bun, sweatpants and a large jumper. She’s smiling a little as she reads,and he has the insane urge to get into her bed and just hold her.
He’s just tired enough,just drugged enough, just in pain enough to actually do it.
She doesn’t make a noiseas he gets into her bed, but she does smile. He rests his head on her chest andswings an arm around her waist. She brings one hand up to run her fingersthrough his hair, the other chucking the book on the nightstand and then restingon his bicep.
They stay like that forseveral minutes, an absurd amount of emotion welling up in him and making himturn his head to look up at her. She looks down to him, and electricity chargesbetween them. His hand comes up, seemingly of its own accord, to press againsther cheek, his thumb tracing her cheekbone.
She doesn’t say anything,and it seems obvious to him where this is going, and so, without objection fromher, he leans up, his hand guiding her lips to his.
It’s slow but searing,heated yet tender. It feels like it’s been inevitable for a thousand years butlike something he doesn’t deserve. His heart beats as loudly in his chest asthe bombs they narrowly escaped.
She pulls away first,tenderness on her face and in her eyes, and it overwhelms him so much that heturns away again, to his original position.
His affection for herchokes his throat, and its with the panic of going on another mission, anotherpossibility of losing her that he, rather daringly, confesses, “I think I’mfalling in love with you.”
Her lips press against hishair, and her hand on his bicep tightens to fist in his sleeve.
“I think I’m falling inlove with you, too.”
The sound of her wordsring in his ears until he falls asleep, happiness in his heart.
#timeless#timeless nbc#save timeless#mockingjays-daughter#prompt#anon#fic#fic prompt#pearl harbor#lucy preston#wyatt logan#rufus carlin#LYATT#Lucy x Wyatt#lyatt fic#lyatt fic prompt
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Did you know that there is zero proof to suggest that, generally speaking, people who have kids are happier than those who don’t?
In fact, there is evidence to suggest to the contrary
Psychology Professor at the University of California, Sonya Lyubomirskiy, cited research in her book ‘The How Of Happiness’ (al) that clearly demonstrated that most parents happiness levels do not increase no matter how much they wanted children.
But when was the last time you heard a parent admit they weren’t as happy since the arrival of their newborn?
Probably never because it’s so utterly taboo.
Not only is it taboo to say that, it’s taboo to even think it. It’s the kind of thought that if we start to be aware of we immediately banish to the corners of our mind.
But think about it for a moment.
Of course there are amazing moments of joy for (hopefully) all parents, but there are also plenty of sleep deprived nights when they are young or sick.
Similarly, there can often be financial concerns for the family with an extra mouth or mouths to feed and compromises often have to be made with personal goals often being put on ice.
My best friend felt he had to quit playing drums in a band and be around more often when his daughter was born and that was really tough for him.
It’s normal for parents to be anxious about how well their kids will do at school, whether they will fall in with the wrong crowd, whether they will remain healthy and a multitude of other things.
I’m not looking to make the argument that people shouldn’t have kids if they want to be happier, that’s patently ridiculous and there will be plenty of exceptions – such as every parent reading this post!
Meaning Doesn’t Necessarily Equal Happiness
Kids bring other benefits that don’t necessarily mean greater happiness levels and I’m not just talking about tax breaks.
There’s meaning to bringing kids into the world that is hard to attain anywhere else.
There’s also the comfort and satisfaction of having a loving and supportive family – even if you do want to kill each other on occasions.
And if the bumper stickers on half the SUV’s I see around Orlando proclaiming the drivers kids are on the school honor roll, there’s also pride.
Whereas meaning, satisfaction and pride can lead to happiness, they don’t have to.
If you have an important meeting at 7am and it’s 3.30am and you have spent the last few hours trying to get a sick two-year-old off to sleep it’s highly unlikely you can tap into any state other than anxiety and maybe exhaustion.
Similarly, if you get a call from the cops because your eldest son has just rear ended a car at a stop light after having a couple of beers, you won’t be skipping to your car high on life and humming Louis Armstrong’s ‘What a wonderful world’.
And whereas the happy moments tend to be relative fleeting, the stressful ones can stick around for a lot longer and become part of a parents psyche.
There is one thing that a lot of parents worry about that can be eradicated altogether though, and that’s school fees.
About six years ago I was working with a lady who was a single parent with a 10-year-old son. The child’s father was long gone and alimony was not forthcoming.
Fortunately, she was something of a high flier and earned great money.
But, unfortunately it was never enough and she was always pushing, pushing, pushing. Working all the hours she could so she’d continue to climb even higher on the corporate ladder.
She had come to me because her stress levels were through the roof and it was effecting her sleeping, and her overall health and fitness had declined sharply in recent years.
I was curious to know what was driving the need to earn ever more money and it didn’t take much uncovering.
The Cost of Education
She had a desire to build up a huge college fund for her 10-year-old son.
She thought that with the way education costs were rising she’d need a bare minimum of a quarter of a million dollars to be sure he had enough.
I looked at her slack jawed for a moment as I tried to gather my thoughts.
I then asked her whether she’d been through college, and when she said she had I followed up by saying, ‘Did you want your parents to run themselves into the ground and probably an early grave so you got free tuition?’
‘Of course not’ She replied, somewhat incredulously.
‘Well what on earth makes you think your son will want that in ten years?’
Before she had chance to answer, because I didn’t want that at this stage, I followed up with:
‘And let me ask you this. Which kids do you think come out of college mentally stronger and more able to deal with their finances Those who sat around the dorm room all day playing video games, eating pizza and smoking weed. Or the ones who worked 3 jobs and paid their way through school?’
‘I guess the latter group’
‘Okay, so here’s where we’re at. You’re making yourself ill trying to earn money for your son, that firstly we don’t know he’ll even need. He may not want to go to University.
And secondly, you agree will probably diminish his ability to manage his finances and set him up with an attitude that you don’t have to work for things of value. Is that wise?’
And here’s what happened.
She fired me.
Not then and not in so many words, but she cancelled our next session with little notice and when I followed up, she never responded.
I suppose there may have been any number of reasons, but I tend to think that the thought of not working to help her son years down the road felt ‘wrong’ to her. As such she couldn’t shake the belief that he should have it easier than she had.
And that’s the thing. Parents somehow believe that the goal in bringing up kids is to make life as easy as possible for them, but should that really be the case?
Isn’t it facing and dealing with adversity that forges spirit, desire and commitment?
An Alternative Path
Not saving for your kids may make you feel uncomfortable, so let me offer a solution.
I understand with rising tuition costs that it’s not as easy to earn enough money to pay as you go, but it is possible to make a big dent in the costs and there is nothing stopping you helping out with the repayments after they graduate if they don’t get a job that pays well enough.
So by all means start a fund for them, but don’t let it sit there for if/when they make it to university. Let them figure that out for themselves.
Instead use that money to get them out of the United States, or better still North America, for two or three weeks per year. More if possible.
Immerse them in new cultures and have them meet as many people as possible who share a different worldview.
Encourage them to be curious about life, people and this planet we live on because the more they see and experience the more they will want to see and experience.
It’s not a coincidence that people who have travelled extensively, and I’m not talking 5 star travel when the only local you meet is the one delivering your laundry back to your room, tend to be more open minded, empathetic and tolerant.
There’s a division in our Society at the moment the like of which we have never seen before, at least not in my lifetime.
That division is born out of ignorance and fear of the unknown.
And sadly it is being encouraged and exploited by a President who couldn’t give a flying fuck about anybody who isn’t like him and doesn’t support him.
You can do your part to heal the divide by bringing up kids who understand that the unknown isn’t to be feared, but embraced and it’s doubtful university will teach them that.
The post Why You Shouldn’t Save For Your Kids College (and what you should do instead) appeared first on A Daring Adventure.
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OFHXRROR’S RP GUIDE: HOW TO PLAY A CHARACTER WITH EPILEPSY.
While I have nothing against the other rp guide’s who tell you what epilepsy and some of them explain it great, they feel like that’s all they are doing explaining it. So here is an rp guide coming from someone who has GE for those who want to play a character with it. ( below will have what GE is, what it can feel like, how it can effect the people around you, how to roleplay a grand mal / tonic - colonic seizure, and the long term + short term effects of a seizure. )
UPDATED: 06/16/2020
What is GE ( Generalized Epilepsy )
GE is a type of epilepsy that comes with no primary cause and comes from the whole brain rather than it stemming from one part of the brain, it also mostly happens durning childhood ( but can happen in adulthood just when that happens their’s less of a chance that you will grow out of it ). There is two possible outcomes with this type of epilepsy, Option One the patient stays on medication for two years and at the end is able to be taken off those meds without any trouble thus for some reason is now cured of GE; Option Two however is more common and likely they stay two years on medication but still have trouble thus aren’t cured of GE.
Symptoms of GE ( what it can feel like )
This is my personally experience with GE but before I was on medication this is what it normally felt like to me which scary enough often felt close enough to an aura ( aka a warning sign to a seizure );
- Numbness / Out Of Body Moments
- Tasting Copper / Blood
- Random Dizziness / Lightheadedness
- Getting Nauseous
- Sleepiness
- Headaches
- Anxiety / Worsen Anxiety
- Depression / Worsen Depression
- Myoclonic Jerking: which fun fact is another minor form of seizing, I developed this over a very short period of time and it comes even though I am medicated.
How GE might effect your Muse
GE is one of those things that can effect people in so many different ways that it’s hard to guess which ways you muse might be effected so here are so suggestions;
- your muse might just hole up in a comfy place out of fear of having a seizure at an unknown point ( me for like a month after my first one ) / place or they might keep living their life giving GE a big fuck you and just shrugging it off ?
- if your muse already has anxiety and / or depression think would they get worse for having this in their life?
- your muse might draw away from people due to just panic and stress or would your muse lean on the ones that they have more?
- if they have anger problems they might get worse because they might feel like the world if screwing with them?
- if they are super prepared they might wear a medical alert bracelet or carry a card with them at all times that says they have GE now.
I didn’t leave my room for a month unless it was to shower, I did all my school work at home, and my depression shot through the roof after my first seizure. But then after awhile I missed people so I got out again and it was scary at first so I clung to those I could trust like a baby monkey. Now I’m not scared at all of having an attack because I trust the people around me which leads me too...
How GE might effect the people around your Muse.
Okay this will hit people hard or soft from what I’ve seen there is no two ways about it folks, if they have seen your muse have a seizure it’s going to hard and if they haven’t seen your muse have a seizure it’s going to be soft. Right after my first seizure my mom didn’t leave my side and then when I had a seizure around a guy I was seeing he didn’t let go of my hand. But when I tell people I have GE it’s “okay so you wanna get pizza later.” but sometimes it’s “okay so if you have a seizure what do you want me to do.” So it just makes a difference on what type of personality your muse’s people have, plot it out, ask your the other muse’s owner “does this work?” and if not keep plotting till you find something that works.
How to roleplay a Grand Mal Seizure.
You’re muse is overworked, or is lacking sleep, or is just unlucky whatever the case you want to roleplay a seizure. Well here the info you will need labeled from start to finish from a good amount of research and memory:
START; your muse might get something called an aura which could be a number of things, for me it was always the taste of blood like loads and loads it followed my right hand jerking out of my control ( a myoclonic seizure ). For your muse it could be anything ranging from numbness, to a headache, to nausea. These can last anywhere to ten mintues to an hour and half but they don’t last much longer than that because next is...
MIDDLE; if your muse is really unlucky they might just skip right to this part which is when the seizure happens, which durning a bunch of things can happen. Now these have two phases which are known as the tonic phase and the colonic phase which is the reason for the name. During the tonic phase your muse will lose consciousness ( though sometimes people don’t and are awake which isn’t rare but is really uncommon ) and they start to tense up, often making loud moaning sounds as air is being force out of their lungs. If your muse is standing or sitting they will fall down due to the fact that their skeletal muscles are tensing up, this phase is the shortest. In the colonic phase your muse will start to convulse, which can be as light or as violent as the seizure goes on. The eyes will roll up into head and often if your muse is not not biting down on something the tongue / lips will get bitten ( sometimes to the point where it might get bitten off, meaning do not have or let anyone put their muses hands in your’s mouth because they will lose them ), the lips may turn blue. finally it’s over but now comes the ....
END; when your muse wakes up they might not know where they are or who they are but they will get it all back shortly, it helps to have someone remind them. vomiting and crying are also side effects due to the large emotional stress it does apply to the brain / body ( I experianced vomiting, crying, panic and huge amounts of tiredness due to the seizure, it took the nursing staff telling me what happened for me to be okay. )
Long Term + Short Term effects of seizures.
Even one seizure can effect your brain so your muse will have both Short Term and Long Term effects to struggle with, I know this fact very well. The shorter effects of the seizures can be:
- Amnesia / Confusion
- Suttering
- Crying / Violent Sobbing
- Vomiting
- Low Emotional Thresh Hold
- Short Term Memory Loss
- Shaking
- Cuts / Broken Bones / Bruises
- Sore Muscles
- Intense Sleepiness
Long Term effects can be:
- Suttering
- Trouble With Memory
- Worsened ADD / ADHD
- Twitching / Jerking / Shaking Hand Motions also know as myoclonic seizures.
- Confusion
- Sleepiness
- Lack Of Appetite
- Weight Loss
- Coma’s / Death / Brain Bleeds
Why do you want to roleplay this?
Finally I have to ask this question as someone who lives their life with this curse, it’s truly a hellscape some days and honestly it’s no fun waking up some mornings with your head spinning and arm smacking you in the face. My body does not feel like mine, it’s possessed by some creature that I cannot get rid of because modern medicine doesn’t have a fix yet. Please think about that when you add this to your character, I just want you to know all the points of epilepsy that while yes most people with the disease can live normal healthy lives, it’s not fun and it sucks. I’m not trying to be an asshole I just wanted to underline how serious it really is and make sure you aren’t just sticking your chara with this illness for brownie points.
thank you for coming to my ted talk!
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coming out (six) ⇾ camren
Authors Note: HI GUYS! I’m really sorry for being so shitty in keeping up with this book, a lot has been happening lately. My fiancée’s father died about two weeks after New Years and she’s been really torn about that because we are still arranging dates for our wedding and she was really excited for him to walk her down the aisle and be the first daughter of his to get married but everything happened so fast.
He had a seizure at dinner, ambulance and everything came, it was very sudden. Basically at the hospital they tell us that he has a basically inoperable brain tumor which none of us knew of. He’s been complaining about sharp pains and headaches for basically all of 2016 and we’ve all been urging him to go and have it checked out but he hates hospital more than anything and absolutely refused. The tumor was intact cancerous. He was placed in the hospital overnight for many nights and it basically got worse and worse each day. He had a series of seizures the night he died.
I’ve taken a break from writing to be there not only for my fiancée and her family, but for myself as well. Her dad was pretty much my dad in my eyes. If you haven’t already known, I’ve been in and out foster care systems for a big portion of my life because both parents had died due to drug addiction. I was in fact adopted later on in my life and I have the worlds best adoptive parents who are pretty much my own parents even if we don’t have the same blood but her father was there for me when my adoptive father wasn’t. He travels a lot and was gone for so much that i pretty much only had my adoptive mother to rely on as a parent figure until I met my fiancée and her dad. So when he died, it took a toll on me as well.
I focused mainly on reading and kind of chose to forget writing for a little while. This week my fiancée is in Canada going over funeral arrangements with her mother and other extended family and I’m home alone basically so I’ve found some spare time and decided to start this series up again considering it doesn’t have many chapters left since it is a short series. Its basically a one shot with many parts so I decided to give it a go again.
I’m really sorry though for being so M.I.A. I promise to update as much as I can, as I said before I’m ready to start some new fanfics and I can’t wait to share those with you.
I’m not usually one to share all my personal problems for fear of coming off attention seeking but you know what, fuck it. I kind of feel like you guys deserve an explanation. I’ve gotten many dms asking me to continue so here I am.
Also, TODAY IS MY 20TH BIRTHDAY! Its also the one year anniversary of me asking my fiancée to be my fiancée lmao. Hopefully we can get married for real though this fall when everything simmers down. But wow, I am no longer in my teens. I’m an adult dammit. Lmfao.
Anyways, enjoy this chapter and thank you for those of you who didn’t remove this story from your library.
Camila|
Watching Lauren walk away from her was almost harder than feeling herself walk away from Lauren. Her chest felt tight as her eyes sprang with tears. If only she’d let me explain…
Sighing softly to herself, she retreated back to find Lola as her attempt to slowly begin to mend things with her former band mate had failed miserably.
Coming to a stop in front of her girlfriend, Camila sighed. Her head throbbed the minute the girl had opened her mouth, “Why’d you chase after her?” Lola asked immediately.
“I just wanted to see how she was doing Lo-” she cut herself off. Lo was Lauren’s nickname. “Lola.”
The hazel eyed girl huffed as she pouted her lips slightly, “You don’t still have that stupid… Camren thing with her, right?” She asked. “I mean, I’m not really sure why that was even a thing. You’re way out of her league. She’s like a negative two hundred on the scale,” she scoffed.
Camila ground her teeth together as she looked down. Lola really knew how to piss someone off. “Lets go home,” she mumbled. She didn’t have time to deal with her shit.
Lauren|
Its been two days since she last ran into Camila. Its been two days since she was reminded of all that went wrong in her life. Seeing the successful singer made Lauren’s blood boil but heart throb all at once. She didn’t understand anything her body was telling her. All that was the least bit comprehendible was that Camila was bad news and Lauren stayed away from bad news no matter what.
She sighed softly to herself as she stood from her and Lucy’s bed. Lucy had gone off for coffee with an old friend Lauren didn’t know of until about a week ago but she didn’t question it. Lucy wasn’t obligated to share everything with her.
She has the day off and wasn’t really sure what to do with it. Normally she’d be spending it with Lucy but that was clearly out of the picture.
She stretched, hearing her back pop with several satisfying cracks before making her way up to her dresser to check her phone. She had the usual several too many text messages from friends but the unknown number caught her eye. She raised an eyebrow as she read the message. It was a simple “hey” to which she replied with a “Who is this” she grabbed her phone as she made her way into the kitchen, reading over the rest of her messages and replying to a few every now and then, being sure not to open the ones she didn’t want to reply to.
The moment she entered the kitchen, her phone vibrated in her hand. The unknown number. Her stomach dropped at the next words, “it’s Camila” she thought she may have misread as she blinked a few times. Seconds later, the bubble with three dots appeared indicating her former bandmate was typing.
C: dinah gave me this number
L: What the hell do you want Camila
Her blood boiled and heart pounded as Camila began typing. Didn’t she get the memo the last time they ran into each other? She wants nothing to do with her! She tapped her fingernails impatiently on the kitchen counter as she waited for the next message. Her anxiety was going through the roof. What was she writing? A college essay?
C: i dont want to fight with you lauren. I just want to explain. ive explained to everyone but you. please just give me the chance to tell you things my way and if it still isn’t enough, i’ll leave you alone forever. i promise.
Lauren reread the message over and over, her eyes burning from never blinking. This couldn’t be real. A small chuckle of annoyance fell from her lips as she began typing out her simple reply.
L: You can shove your explanation up your ass.
Her heart twitched as she hit send. She ignored the guilt from her sudden outburst of harshness and forced herself to prepare for anything Camila threw at her when the three dots in a bubble popped back up. What she read next shocked her. She expected old Camila. She expected Camila to be a bitch back at her. But she wasn’t.
C: okay. but if you happen to change your mind, i’ll be doing a little fundraiser for women’s right and lgbt rights in Miami Beach from 10am-6pm. ive invited the girls. mani, dinah and ally will be there. i heard you were with lucy, feel free to invite her as well. im really sorry for everything lo and i hope you can forgive me someday. have a good rest of the day.
Camila|
She willed the tears to go away as she hit send and threw her phone across the table. She never knew why even the thought of Lauren brought so much emotion into her. She could feel her ex bandmate’s eyes on her. It was silent for awhile before Dinah reached across from her to pick up the disregarded phone. Camila sat in silence as she read over the short conversation.
“She’ll come,” she finally said.
Camila looked up, a long sigh escaping her lips as she struggled to compose herself. “I doubt it,” she mumbled quietly.
Dinah shook her head, “She’ll come. Deep down, under all that hate and hurt, she still cares Mila. I promise,” the blonde haired girl sent her best friend a small smile.
Camila nodded, her face contorting into weird different expressions as she tried not to cry. She’s been doing that a lot lately and she wasn’t up for ruining her makeup the fourth time that week.
“So how are things with Lola?” Dinah asked.
Camila laughed, shaking her head. She didn’t even know what to say as she rolled her eyes over and over. She probably looked possessed. “I don’t even know why I’m dating her anymore Dinah,” she said truthfully.
“Just dump her,”
“I can’t,”
“Why not?”
“I don’t like hurting people,”
“You had a fine job doing that when you left the group,” silence fell upon them. Camila looked down at her lap, Dinah shaking her head. The blonde sighed softly, “I didn’t mean that Mi-”
“Its fine,” Camila said as she cut her off. “Lets just, lets just get ready for the fundraiser.”
***
Disappointment. That’s what Camila felt as she watched the last man pack up their belongings for the fundraiser. It was going on 8pm, it had gone a little over time with how many people had showed up, Camila was truly amazed. She loved every minute of it, meeting fans all while helping spread awareness on both women rights and LGBT rights but she couldn’t help the overall sadness as it came to an end. Lauren didn’t show up. She even had two guards waiting up front in case she did show up to escort her over. Nothing happened.
It was really hard for her to be happy in such an amazing environment when the one person she was hoping with everything in her to show up, didn’t show up.
Lauren|
“Babe you should go,” Lucy encouraged as she sat up slightly from the couch.
Lauren shook her head, walking over to her girlfriend a bowl of warm soup. “You’re not feeling well. I don’t have to go to the stupid fundraiser,” she mumbled.
Lucy gave Lauren a look as she accepted the soup, “First of all, you love fundraisers that tie down to those specific matters and you know it. Just last week you were saying how you wished it happened more often. Plus Fifth Harmony will basically be reuniting for the first time as a group in a while.”
Rolling her eyes, Lauren plopped down next to Lucy. Playing with the ring on her thumb she sighed loudly, “Why do you even care so much? You do know Camila invited me, right? You don’t really like her,” pausing she glanced at her girlfriend. “Besides, who’ll take care of you while I’m gone? The stupid thing is over anyways. She said it ended at 6 PM. Its like 7:45 now.”
“I don’t not like her. I just wasn’t fond of what she had done to the group,” Lucy shrugged. “And so? Weren’t you the one social media stalking her and saw she was spamming on Snapchat with videos just from like five minutes ago?” Lucy raised a knowing eyebrow at her girlfriend. “I can invite Kandee over if it’ll make you feel better about who’ll take care of me.” Kandee was Lucy’s longtime friend Lauren had recently learned about.
She sighed to herself as she thought over it, “What if it goes bad?” She mumbled quietly.
“She’s just asking you to hear her out, right? If you don’t like what she has to say, just leave,” Lucy reached over to rub her finger tips up and down her girlfriends arm, “It’ll all go good baby. I promise.”
***
This was a mistake. Lauren could feel it as she approached the empty area. I bet she’s gone. God I’m such an idiot. It was around 8 PM and the place was pretty much a ghost land. She saw a few people left but that was it. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stopped in front of the location Camila had texted her.
There stood a man who had his back turned toward her with “SECURITY” writing in big white letters on his black T-Shirt.
Clearing her throats softly, she proceeded to tap him on the shoulder. The man sighed before turning around. “Ma'am this even is over please-” the man paused himself before eyes widening. “I am so sorry Miss. Follow me this way,” Lauren felt confusion settle within her as she followed the man through the black curtains. Something in her told her not to, it could be a trap but she ignored it. She was always unnecessarily paranoid. “Miss Cabello!” The man shouted.
The ashy brown haired woman turned around, along with three other obviously familiar faces. A sense of nervousness washed over Lauren as the room went silent for a few seconds before an overly excited Ally ran straight toward her former bandmate along with Dinah and Normani. She felt overwhelmed with happiness as the three women bombarded her with questions and hugs. A couple years escaped her eyes. It felt so good to be in their presence again. But everything went just as fast as it came.
Suddenly they all realized the reasoning behind them all being there and a silent Camila. Pulling apart from each other, Normani spoke first. “We’ll give you guys some space.”
By then, the security guard had already left and the three ladies had found their way out. Lauren’s heart pounded as she took in Camila’s overall presence. The whole situation felt even more overwhelming as her former bandmate directed her toward a set of chairs to sit down. It was silent between them for quite some time, neither really knowing how to start off.
“I didn’t think you’d show,” Camila breathed out, deciding to speak first.
Lauren pursed her lips, looking down for a second then back up with a small head nod. “I wasn’t,” she answered honestly. “Lucy made me.”
She didn’t miss the small twinge of hurt in Camila’s features but tried her best to brush it all off. “You look nice,” Camila then said.
Lauren sighed, rolling her eyes. “Thank you but I didn’t exactly come to be complimented. I’m here for my explain so I can be on my way back to my perfectly unproblematic life,” she didn’t mean to come off so harsh. It kind of just happened and she did regret it when Camila paused and every feature in her face twisted into one of pain before looking down and clearing her throat.
“Okay,” she croaked. “Where do you want me to start?”
“The beginning. Why you left, why you feel I should pity you in anyway, etc.”
Camila clenched her jaw, “I don’t need your pity Lauren, that’s one,” sighing, she looked down as she attempted to collect her currently scattered thoughts.
“I left because I couldn’t do it anymore,” she started. “It was a decision I had already planned for months before the day I left. I left mainly because of you though,” she kept her eyes down as she felt herself relive those few earlier months. “You weren’t happy with me in the group. I could feel it, the fans could feel it, everyone could. It was like days that I wasn’t there, you shined the most. You seemed the happiest and most carefree. Obviously me being there was taking that away. My intentions weren’t to break the group as a whole, no. I was hoping if things played out well, you guys would continue as a foursome. I didn’t mean to fuck up everyone’s lives, I swear Lauren.”
“I couldn’t do it anymore. Not even just with you, I was taking away everyone else’s happiness. Normani wouldn’t, hell couldn’t even look at me off camera. Ally was always torn on who to side with, at one point she even hated me. I was breaking Dinah’s relationship with everyone in the group because I’d always make her feel obligated to be on my side. I was fucking it all up. I wasn’t happy anymore in it… you guys weren’t happy anymore with me in it. My solo music started to take off, everything was screaming at me to get out. So I did.”
“I didn’t mean for everything to go downhill so fast. I didn’t want you guys to find out the way you found out. But life has a fucked up way of playing out for you-”
“That doesn’t answer shit Camila. So basically you’re new skit is, you left the group for our happiness? My god you are full of so much shit,” Lauren laughed humorlessly as she stood up. “You left because you’re a selfish self absorbed idiotic fucking cunt who cared more about fame than the actual fucking gr-”
“I left because I was in love with you! Okay, I fucking left because I was in love with you Lauren!”
Everything went silent, Lauren stopped, Camila stopped, the girls who were eavesdropping behind the curtain even stopped. The atmosphere suddenly felt thick and heart to breathe in. Lauren sat back down and stared at Camila in disbelief.
Camila gulped harshly as the tears started to come, “I couldn’t take it anymore Lauren. I couldn’t. I couldn’t take knowing every fucking day you hated me, our friendship would never ever be the same. I could handle you not feeling the same, I could handle keeping it a secret forever. But I couldn’t handle knowing you hated me so fucking much. I couldn’t handle it. When you came out, and I was a complete bitch to you about it, it was like everything got worse. Your hate for me grew, everything was just a mess. Imagine… being head over heels in love with someone who hates you more than life itself but you have to work with them every fucking day. Imagine it.”
“I wasn’t fucking happy. I was sad, everyday, every night. My life was just sadness. And I hated that, because I loved what we did so fucking much. I loved making music with my best friends. I loved the fans. I loved everyone and everything. So basically feeling trapped and miserable was the worst thing ever for me. I’m sorry Lauren, I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me as a friend, I’m sorry for putting a stupid solo career before our friendship, I’m sorry for putting anyone and everyone before you. My intentions were never to hurt you. You’ve always been one of my closest friends and to watch you grow such an intense amount of hate for me killed me. I wanted out, I needed out.”
She finished with a face full of tears and a shocked and frozen Lauren just staring back at her. Neither women knew what to say as the tension got thicker and thicker.
All Camila could think about was how she possibly fucked things up the most in this moment and there was no ever going back.
***
a/n: wow i actually cried writing this last part. damn. lol, im so sorry i did not edit. im really tired and im about to go out with friends for my birthday but i hope you enjoyed this over due chapter. i love you lots and thanks so much for reading.
to my tumblr readers, make sure to check out my wattpad @wthbello for faster updates and overall better reading format lmao. thanks so much for reading as well.
have an amazing night/day/afternoon, etc. wherever you are. make sure to always be kind to yourselves and always love yourselves because if you don’t, i can assure you no one else will. no one can love you better than you can love you. with that being said, i hope you enjoyed this chapter lmao.
ellianna (elli),
xxxxxxxxxxxx
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