#I'd get fined more for being slightly too late in crossing the street at the cross walk and I KNOW people who HAVE been fined out the ass

[solvicrafts]

Wow, $250 whole dollars!

[soft-girl-musings]

Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps - CHAPTER 1 (Strangers In The Night)

Noir!Jake Lockley x WOC Lounge Singer!Reader

written in collaboration with + header by @mrs-lockley

chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5

cross-posted to ao3

tags: late 1940s Noir AU, Reader is WOC coded but with no physical description besides being slightly taller than Jake while wearing heels, no use of Y/N

wc: 2,222

fic summary: Of all the gin joints in all the world, Jake Lockley walks into yours. Unfortunately for him, it's not quite the start of a beautiful friendship.

A/N: can't believe this is the product of covid-induced hcs and thots between me and @mrs-lockley, thank you so much for encouraging this buddy (also @lunar-ghoulie if i had a nickel for each time you've sent an ask/dm about a WIP and it ended up being where i put all my energy, i'd have two nickels. which isn't a lot but it's hilarious that it's happened twice).

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On nights like tonight, Jake Lockley regrets his choice of profession.

It’s a dreary November evening, darkening by the second as the New York streets grow damp and cold. The wise had decided not to venture out; the blindsided rush across slick pavement to whatever shelter they can find. The desperate stay on the clock and curse their luck.

He should know by now that when a client says they’ll be “just a minute,” it’s a boldfaced lie: even if they have every intention of being efficient, he’s been stranded on the curb more times than he can count.

So he keeps the meter running. He’s seen the duds his regular client has on each week; the man could afford to fork over a few extra bucks. Might even build character.

The steady rhythm of the rain had been fine at first, but after half an hour parked beneath the neon sign of The Paper Moon– hat, coat and gloves doing nothing to ward off the chill creeping into his cab– every raindrop taunts him in his isolation.

To hell with this.

He shuts off the engine, pops his collar, and braces himself before stepping out onto the street. The rain falls fast and hard, so he rushes toward the brick exterior of The Paper Moon. He’s never been inside, but the glowing crescent of the sign had piqued his interest the first time he’d dropped his client here. He may as well see what all the fuss is about.

The doorman– a tall, dapperly dressed unit with a neutral grimace– casts a wary look his way. Jake ducks into the alley beside the building. Guess it’s exclusive.

Through the rain he spots a side door with a meagerly covered stoop, upon which is hunched a smaller, yet equally well-dressed figure. The young man’s tawny complexion pops against the emerald green of his just-too-big blazer, mist gathering in the dark brown waves slicked back from his creased brow. He grips a cigarette between clenched teeth, stuttering curses around it as he strikes a flimsy matchbook to no avail.

“¿Necesitas un fuego?”

At his offer, Jake is met by startled, impossibly wide brown eyes. The shock turns to glee as his face breaks into a toothy smile.

“Sí– sí sería genial, señor.” He makes room on the stoop, his dimpled cheeks betraying his youth. Jake pulls out a lighter and deftly lights the end of his cigarette, earning another dimpled grin after a few christening puffs. “Muchísimas gracias.” 

“No hay problema.” 

He lights one of his own, the smoke mixing with the fog of his breath as he holds out his free hand. “Jake.”

“Mauricio.” His newfound companion grips his hand and shakes vigorously. 

They sit in silence for a few moments, their subtle exhalations and the slowing rain the only sounds between them.

The mood is disrupted by shouting from the other side of the door, followed by clattering and the unmistakable sound of someone falling. The door behind them flies open and a lanky, dark skinned man in a matching green blazer pokes his head outside.

“You’d better get your tail in here, Maurie. She’s in one of her moods tonight.” 

“Rats, alright,” he groans, taking one last drag of his cigarette before stamping it out with his heel. Mauricio straightens his blazer and pushes a hand through his hair. He pauses at the door and looks back at Jake. 

“Do you wanna come inside, dry off for a spell? We put on a mean show,” he swears. The kid's face isn't one Jake imagines people say “no” to very often.

“...Yeah, alright. Thanks.”

“Great! There’s a couple of tables toward the back that should still be free, you can sneak in there no problem.” Mauricio holds the door open a bit wider for Jake to step through. “If anyone gives you any trouble, just tell ‘em you’re with me.” With a wink and another winning smile, he darts off to follow the other blazer.

Jake finds his spot easily enough, taking in the atmosphere as he weaves between tables and patrons. So this is The Paper Moon.

The building’s drab exterior is deceptive: inside is a small lounge, bustling with activity and humming with life. Richly draped walls envelop the space, with ornate lamps and soft candlelight radiating from every table. The room looks as warm as it feels, a welcome relief from Jake’s prior solitude. 

He takes off his soaked coat and loosens his tie. Across the room Jake sees his client– a cold, calculating Mr. Wesley– who gives a curt nod, as if granting his permission to take a load off (for now).

He orders a drink from a slightly bewildered waiter and continues to survey the space. People of all shapes and sizes occupy tables and barstools, with the chatter of at least three languages creating a dizzying buzz around him. The crowd dies down when stage lights flash on at the far end of the room.

Out marches the band: the guy who'd clambered to the back door sits at the piano, cracking his knuckles before playing a few notes on the keys; an older man with a similar complexion props an upright bass in position, riffing along with the scattered piano melody; an impressively mustachioed fellow polishes the mouthpiece of his trumpet; Mauricio settles in behind a set of drums, waving a stick in the air when he spots Jake.

As warm as he's gotten after coming inside, the temperature seems to skyrocket as the click of heels and the shimmer of the last band member crossing the stage sends his heartbeat right into his throat. In walks– no, floats – a vision, evening gown the same color as the richly painted lips that curl into a smile as easily as breathing. Something Jake seems to have forgotten how to do.

He can’t take his eyes off you.

----------

There’s something in the air tonight.

Maybe it’s the smoke lingering on Mauricio’s jacket (you’ve told him time and time again how smoking before a show irritates you; he must have snuck a pack backstage), or maybe the weather has you out of sorts. Whatever it is, you’re one false step away from losing your cool. Which, of course, cannot happen. Not onstage.

As the band warms up, you take one last look in your compact mirror, blot your lipstick, and take a deep breath. It’s showtime.

The moment you step onstage, you turn on the charm. Nothing can touch you up here. Not when there’s music to play, a band to lead. A night to make unforgettable.

You approach the microphone and smile. “Hello again, darlings. Did you miss us while we were away?”

Applause and cheers echo back to you from the audience. There’s a distinct two-toned whistle that rises above the noise, but you don’t think anything of it.

Not until you scan the crowd and see something– someone – that doesn’t belong.

Lounging at the previously unoccupied back table is a man you’ve never seen before. Which wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t know the face and name of everyone who enters your club.

His eyes stay trained on you as you nod to the band to begin. One outlier a bad night will not make– you’ll deal with him later. For now, you let the caress of the opening notes ease the new tension in your body, and you start to sing.

With six shows a week, one would think the routine would become tedious. Quite the opposite: any night you play the same standards with the band is bound to be a good night. The chemistry between you and your boys is perfect– even on an off night like tonight, you still manage to follow each other and make the same hour of music sound brand new.

You lead one song, then another, completely in your own world. Of course, the constant cheers and occasional audience participation don’t hurt. But just when you hit your stride and forget your troubles, that whistle rings out above the noise.

The stranger's on the edge of his seat, rapt attention never leaving the stage. Seems innocent enough, but you’re still on high alert.

The set comes to a close, ending with a vibrant flourish. The band improvises a steady beat as you take a sip of water, then smile once more into the microphone.

“Oh, stop. Really…. well, alright, you can keep going,” you croon at the crowd as they cheer louder. 

You gesture to the band. “Let’s give a big round of applause to The Jays, what do you say?”

“On piano we have the dazzling Jackie Thomas,” you call out as he trills a fancy melody a little louder than the rest. “Followed by this absolute Adonis on the bass, Benny Hayes,” you add as the smooth licks of his instrument sound out a reply.

“Let’s hear it for Leo Castellón and his magnificent mustache on the trumpet,” you tease as he blasts out a tune. “And our baby bird on drums, Mauricio Farrés!” You raise your voice as the youth bangs out a closing rhythm. 

“And as always, I’m Ms. Songbird. We hope you’ll join us again soon, my doves. Goodnight!”

The band plays themselves out as you descend downstage to the front of the room. Time for the next act.

You know how to work a crowd both on and offstage; hospitality is as much a part of the gig as the music. Tonight’s a full house, but you take your time gliding past each table, front to back. Does everyone have their preferred drink? How’s the food? Was the music to their liking? All questions you ask with genuine interest, but you know the answer: everything is perfect.

"Hey, little songbird," a voice calls above the noise.

Everything except him.

You've been avoiding the back table for a while, trying to collect your thoughts before confronting him. No time like the present, I suppose.  

You turn to see the outlier standing by the table he’d commandeered, a shimmering bundle of rhinestones dangling from his hand. The glint of a grin catches the low light the same way your traitorous earring does.

You touch your ear and your face grows hot. “Where did you–”

“Fell off as you floated by the last few tables, angel.” 

Your heels tap out a warning as you approach. Toe-to-toe, with the added height of your shoes, you practically tower over him. Your brow furrows as you size him up: too forward to have something to hide, too laissez-faire to be up to any obvious trouble. All the same, you don't trust him.

You look him up and down; he does the same. "You're not very tall, are you?" More of a challenge than a question as you reach for the rhinestones in his hand.

Leaning back against the table, jewelry dangling just out of reach, his sly smile grows. "Well, miss, I tried to be."

"Right." You snatch the earring back before he says anything else. "I see you also tried to be discreet, and that didn't go so well for you, did it Chuck?"

"Actually, it's–"

“–club policy to check your coat at the door. Something our hostess would have insisted upon, meaning you– ” you emphasize as you lean in, fingertips pressed to the tabletop by his side, "–slipped in under the wire." You search his face for anything to betray his intentions. "Now how did you manage that?”

The stranger lowers himself into his seat, hands raised in surrender. "A little backstage access, courtesy of your drummer there." He nods toward the stage: you catch a glimpse of Mauricio clumsily ducking back behind the curtain. You'll scold him later.

His gaze shifts across the room. “See that fella over there– the one who looks like it'd kill him to smile? I’m just waiting to drive him home, like I do every week.” He grins again, that same look in his eyes. A look that sets you on edge. “Just a humble cab driver, miss– nothing up my sleeves.” 

“Didn't know cabbies could be so exclusive,” you say, still eyeing him. James Wesley has been a regular for a few weeks, but you've never met his driver.

“With what he tips? Doll, I'd do damn near anything he asked.” The stranger chuckles, sipping his drink.

You know what he means: the wait staff has noted a major uptick in gratuities since Mr. Wesley has started frequenting the lounge. 

“Very well,” you offer stiffly. It all checks out, but you get the feeling there's something he's not telling you. “I hope everything is to your liking.” 

You turn to leave, but he takes your hand before you can go far.

“Oh believe me, it is… Ms. Songbird. ” A wink and a smile play on his lips as he swiftly presses them to your knuckles, letting go just as fast. You storm away before giving the satisfaction of showing how flustered you are. 

“Mr. Manalo,” you beckon a waiter as he passes. He stands at attention. You gesture to the table you’d just left, not bothering to look and see if his eyes are still on you.

“Watch out for this one, will you? I get the feeling he isn’t just here for the music.”

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A/N: !!!! every story i write becomes my new favorite, but Noir!Jake has carved a pretty special spot in my heart this autumn. so excited to share more of him with y'all!

as always, thank you for reading :)

addtl tag list: @fandxmslxt69 @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

[cottoncandy-cult]

Jiro Mochizuki X Reader

I loved Black Blood Brothers, I really wish they'd continue it or remake it but it's been so long and so few people have seen it that I know it isn't gonna happen. Sucks too, I adored Zelman. My favorite part of the Darkness the lies within the alleys of the Special Zone. My favorite moment was when he saved Kotaro and then helped him track down Mimiko and even saved her from Cassandra. The only wildfire I loved more was Mikoto Suoh~

(Y/n) waited by the bridge into the special zone, she had actually met a compromiser while wondering the streets of the mainland. The young woman was a fledgling black blood, she had nowhere to go and had been living in an abandoned building. She met the woman near a park, she had been walking around with a tall man in red and a blonde-haired boy. The two had watched from a slight distance as the woman spoke to you, the woman wanted to save as many black bloods as she could. The woman who identified herself as Mimiko had stated that because of (Y/n)'s starved appearance she thought the girl was in need of help, which she had been.

After Mimiko had determined she was safe enough to enter the special zone they had decided that the following night they'd meet at the entrance, that way Mimiko could welcome her. So here the (H/c) haired girl stood, a backpack slung over her shoulder contained all that she owned. She had been there about 10 minutes before she spotted the black-haired man from before flying towards her, when he landed just a few feet away he gave her a sheepish smile while removing his hat and bowing. "I apologize but Mimiko is running a bit late, her boss had been a bit behind on getting your approval done. She asked that I come keep you company, so you didn't think she abandoned you." He stood straight, his tone was soft and kind. Blood had rushed to the girl's cheeks; kindness having been foreign since she was turned.

"It's ok... Thank you for coming to inform me." Her own voice was soft, she always got really shy around men and he seemed to radiate a welcoming aura. "My name is Jiro Mochizuki, I'm glad to officially meet you." She couldn't help but offer a small smile, bowing slightly. "It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Mochiziki... Michi... Mochizaki..." She began stumbling, finding his last name a bit awkward on her tongue. Her face turning cherry red at his chuckle, though she was glad he didn't get offended. "Jiro will do just fine." She had nodded, still feeling rather embarrassed. "Thank you, I'm sure Miss Mimiko already told you but my name is (Y/n)." Before they could carry on and start a real conversation Mimiko had showed up, (Y/n) was surprised how simple it was to get into the special zone but now she was faced with a new problem. Where was she gonna sleep?

They had crossed over the bridge, the young black blood looking around worriedly. "Is something wrong Miss (Y/n)?" The (H/c) haired girl looked to the little boy she learned was Kotaro, he was giving her a concerned look. "Yes, sorry. I'm just... I don't really know where I'm going to stay... Or what to do from here. I honestly thought I'd be living in abandoned buildings for the rest of my existence, so I don't really have a plan other than just survival..." The little blonde boy gave her a smile that almost seemed reassuring, he then turned to the young woman. "Hey Mimi, can Miss (Y/n) spend the night so we can try and find her a place to stay tomorrow?" The boy's words seemed to make Mimiko perk up, as if being hit with realization.

"I completely forgot about that, yes of course. You can stay with us and tomorrow we'll try and find you a place."

It had been 4 months since that night, she had moved into an apartment across the street from her new friends. Having learned from Mimiko that it had once been her old apartment, this of course meant she spent a lot of time with those 3. She had been adopted into the odd little group, if told 6 months ago that she'd practically make friends and get to restart her life in a place like the special zone over night she would have sworn the informer was a fool. Right now (Y/n) was sat on her bed, listening to the calm rain. Though the peace was soon disturbed by a bright flash of light, the roaring thunder making her window rattle and startling her. She wasn't sure if it was the thunder or lightening, maybe it was both, but she hated it. Even as a black blood her fear of thunderstorms remained, it was made even worse when her electricity cut out.

She rushed to get her flashlight off her desk, she felt ridiculous being a vampire and being so scared but she couldn't help it. Even with her night vision, she felt better about having a light source as well. It wasn't even 6pm yet but the skies were dark as night, so she threw on her jacket and grabbed her phone before walking out and locking the door. She proceeded to dash across the street, having made a plan seconds after losing electric. She'd go to Mimiko's, she knew the girl was likely still at work but knew Kotaro and Jiro would be home since the rain hurts Jiro. Having lost electricity and this being a rough storm she had an excuse, they didn't need to know she was scared. She knocked on the door, hoping it would be opened quickly.

It was Jiro who answered the door, a candle in hand as he let her inside. "I take it you lost power as well (Y/n)?" He sat the candle down on a small nearby table, helping her remove her wet jacket and hang it up. His own had been hung up as well, his hat was also removed. (Y/n) was hoping he wouldn't be able to see her blush, her (E/c) orbs taking in the site of Jiro in a black button up and his usual red pants. The top 2 or 3 buttons were undone, his long black hair a slight mess and the yellow candlelight casting some well-placed shadows on the man. Unfortunately, her wavering focus left her open to be startled, a particularly loud rumble of thunder making her yelp. Her foot slipping in a small puddle of water left by her jacket, though she didn't fall to far backwards before she felt the motion stop. Jiro had caught her with one arm around her waist and the other cradled her head, he gave her a worried look as he had noticed her zoning out moments before.

"Come, let's get you settled. I set up some candles around the living room." He settled the girl back on her feet and lead her upstairs, she was relieved to see the small coffee table between the two couches had several lit candles. She could smell the tea he was brewing, and it helped her feel more relaxed, the two got comfortable on one of the couches. "(Y/n) are you feeling alright? You're quieter than usual." She smiled softly at his concern; he had always been so kind to her. "Yes, sorry I'm not sure what it is but I keep finding my thoughts tend to wonder." She blushed softly, the hint of pink hidden by the dark. When the next combo of thunder and lightning rolled through the girl managed to suppress her response to a minor flinch, but it didn't go unnoticed by the old blood. He wasn't stupid, piecing together the pattern quickly he gave her a sympathetic smile and rubbed her back. This had soothed her enough that he could feel the tension slowly leave her, she gazed up at him with an innocent and confused look.

"Sorry but I could see that the storm was bothering you, so I thought to comfort you." He avoided using any words that directly connected to fear, not wanting to hurt her pride if that was why she hadn't said anything. "Thank you, Jiro... I've never much cared for storms like this..." If her heart was still beating, she was sure he would have heard it racing, she wasn't as embarrassed when wording it like this, but it still made her slightly flustered. Jiro was an old blood; he was from a time when black bloods were strong and prideful. Then here she was, stirred up and bothered by flashing light and a loud noise. Though his smile erased the stinging she felt in her pride. "Would you like some tea? Even if we don't necessarily need it, I do find it relaxing."

     Time skip: 4 hours

Mimiko didn't make it back til somewhat late, Kotaro had wanted to go to work with her so she had to carry the sleeping boy home. It was 11pm and the storm had lightened, though she was irritated to see that the power was still out. The candles still burned but they were running low, she was a bit confused when she saw Jiro and (Y/n) asleep on the couch. He had been sitting up, an arm around the younger female who seemed rather comfortable using his chest as a pillow. Mimiko could only giggle, she'd get the story later. She went to place Kotaro in bed before returning to throw a cover over the two, as well as to take a picture for black mail purposes.

"Heh... I ship it..." After sending the picture to a few of their friends she went to get herself ready for bed, thankful the next day she didn't have to be up till noon.

[hot-wiings]

The One Where Denki And Mina Think Katsuki Needs To Be A Softer, Nicer Boyfriend, And An Insecure Katsuki Agrees, But [Y/N] [L/N] Doesn't Want A Nicer Boyfriend, She Wants Him.

Requested By: @spicyhokage

Edited: 1-6-2021

It was late when Katsuki came in through class 2-A's dormitory doors. Being his second year at UA the school was allowing students to go back into student internships. With Best Jeanist still off the streets, Katsuki wound up interning with Fatgum, using the link between Eijirou and him to get in. Katsuki hadn't expected to be out for so long, there had been a bad villain that showed up at a different agency and it was a perfect match for both his and Fatgum's abilities. Fatgum had allowed Katsuki to work on it with him, nevermind the fact that Katsuki had already planned a study date for your upcoming test Monday, he jumped at the chance to work with the heroes.

Katsuki knew, or at least he hoped, that you wouldn't be that mad or upset at him for ditching you at the very last minute. It was a leg up in the hero industry, it was a helping hand, he could make more connections and improve his skills. As a student hero, you should know how important this is. He'd want you to make the same choice if it was reversed.

Despite abandoning your date, Katsuki wasn't heartless. He bought a bouquet of hydrangeas as an apology. Apologies weren't something he was good at, but he hoped you would accept it. Katsuki was hoping you would be up waiting for him in the dormitory lounge when he came back, but he knew that one was a longshot. He'd rather have you in bed resting, or making up for the studying he promised to help with but hadn't. Katsuki was hoping he'd find you in the dormitory lounge waiting for him, but instead, he found two of his peers.

"You were out awfully late, weren't you?"

"Shut it, pink face. I need to go see [Y/N] and then head to bed, like a smart student. You and dunce face do realize that we have a big test Monday, don't you?"

Katsuki marched right past Mina and Denki, who were sitting on the couch, towards the elevator to get up to your dorm. If he was right, Mr. Aizawa would be asleep by this hour, and getting into your dorm would be no issue. Katsuki stopped walking towards the elevator when he hears Minas' voice speak out again.

"Did you really get hydrangeas for her? You ditched her for your internship and you got hydrangeas? Girls like roses Katsuki. If a guy ever brought me hydrangeas, I'd kick his butt to the door. Queens deserve better."

"What the fuck are you implying raccoon eyes?"

Katsuki turned back around to yell at Mina for implying that he wasn't good enough for you. He nearly crumpled the flowers by clenching his hand. Mina didn't know what she was talking about. He had brought you hydrangeas several times before, you never complained about it. Denki spoke up to try and intervene Katsuki from blowing up on Mina.

"I think what Mina meant to say is that we're just worried for you. You really like [Y/N], right? Take it from a guy who gets dumped by girls a lot. Pretty girls like [Y/N] don't need to sit around waiting for guys like us. While you're trying to further your career you're ditching her, not to mention, when is the last time you showed her affection?"

"For starters, dunce face, don't call my girlfriend pretty. Secondly, there are no guys like us and girls like [Y/N], there's me, her, and all of you fucking extras that need to get out of my relationship."

"Fine, don't take our advice. Just so you know, [Y/N] isn't in her dorm, she's in the kitchen."

Mina practically sings her words out, and Katsuki changes his course of route from the elevator to the kitchen. He had a scowl on his face the entire time, courtesy of Mina and Denki. He had to restrain himself from beating them with the bouquet. Katsuki reached the kitchen door and he took a minute to recompose himself from his previous anger to a calmer version of himself. He pushed the door open with a calmer smile on his face but stops after opening it halfway.

"What's the answer to number two?"

"Uhm... 6?"

"That's right! Here's your reward."

Katsuki clenched his fist, practically ruining the flowers. He ditched you and your study date, he shouldn't be getting so mad at seeing you and Deku study together. You can have friends other than him. You can be around members of the male gender other than him. Even if it is shitty Deku. You're allowed to have a life outside of Katsuki, but as Deku broke apart a cookie and threw it right into your mouth, a sweet reward for getting the question right, he was ready to toss hands with the boy.

"We're gonna ace this test Monday. Thanks for studying with me Deku. I hate studying alone and you're great at math. Usually, Katsuki helps me, but he got busy."

"It's no problem, [Y/N]. Seriously, I'm always here if you need me."

Katsuki quietly pulled the door shut instead of going in and interrupting you and dumb Deku. Maybe Mina was right. Katsuki thought about it more as he walked back to Mina and Denki. He didn't really show you affection that much, and he did spend a lot of time in the gym or at his internship. His idea of a date was training together or studying. You probably hated the flowers but chose not to speak on it. If he didn't change, change now and fast he was going to lose you to that shit-munch. He needed to show you he was the better more deserving man. As Katsuki stared at Mina and Denki he uttered the words he never wanted to say to them.

"I want your fuckin' help."

"Bring [Y/N] roses. Girls love roses. Not a daffodil, not baby's breath, not a tulip. Roses."

Roses were Mina's first piece of advice to Katsuki. According to her, girls only cared about getting roses, and every other flower was inferior. She also said apology flowers must be paired with chocolates. Katsuki personally thought that was bullshit. He had been bringing you different breeds of flowers throughout your entire relationship and never once had you vocalized disdain for it. But Mina is a girl unlike him, so she must have had some kind of special insight. You must have just not wanted to make him feel bad for messing up. Katsuki knew he was inexperienced in the dating area, but he hadn't realized he was screwing up so badly.

Katsuki did exactly what Mina said. Saturday afternoon, Katsuki showed up at your dorm with a bouquet of yellow roses and a box of chocolates, the milk chocolate kind. According to Mina, milk chocolate was better than dark chocolate. He knocked on the door after checking his phone for the time. He knew you didn't like getting up early on the weekend, and you had been up late studying the night before. Twelve-thirty seemed like a reasonable time to stop by.

You opened the door, slippers on your feet, eyes barely opened, and a crinkled forehead as you tried to slightly open them to see who you were staring at. You had a pair of shorts on and one of Katsuki's sweatshirts. One you promised you hadn't seen and swore he must've lost in the dorms laundry facility. Katsuki smiled down at your sleepy form, you were adorable. Once you registered who it was you yawned and crossed your arms as you lazily leaned against the door frame and let a small smile cross your face.

"What're you doing here? You were out so late last night, you must be exhausted."

"I could say the same about you, you look like the epitome of tired. How late were you up?"

"No later than two. When did you get in?"

Katsuki didn't want to tell you he came in at midnight. You would've asked him why he didn't come to see you, and he didn't want to say that he saw you and Deku studying together. He didn't want to admit that he felt pained at seeing you together so close. Pained at you needing and using Deku as you would him. Katsuki held up the roses and chocolates and thrust them into your arms.

"I didn't even check the time. I brought you apology flowers and chocolate for ditching you. They're roses!"

"O-Oh, they're yellow."

You took the items he thrust into your arms and moved further into your dorm so he could come in. You set the chocolate down on the bed but kept observing the flowers. Katsuki was quite proud of the flowers he picked out. They were pretty and blooming, and he thought you'd like them. Yellow roses would look good in your dorm room. You, on the other hand, were not ecstatic with the flowers. You bit your lip and tried to make your smile bigger. Did he know what yellow roses symbolized? He had to of known, even Denki would know something this simple. Maybe you were reading into it too much, they're just flowers. It was a gift, not a death sentence to your relationship.

"I'll have to go to the kitchen and see if there's anything I can put them in."

Katsuki could sense you being standoffish. He assumed you were upset at him for ditching you the previous night. He did the flowers right, he would just have to go the extra mile to make you happy with him by serving your needs.

"I can go to the kitchen and find a vase! You just shower or get dressed, or whatever, and I'll even bring you up some lunch."

"You don't have to do that. I can get dressed and do it myself."

"I don't have to do it, I want to do it."

Katsuki cupped your cheeks and pressed a quick kiss against your lips. They were soft and sweet. Katsuki could taste the residue sugar from the cookies you had been eating the night before and he pulled back with a frown, making you frown just as much. He wasn't mad that you didn't brush your teeth, although you should have. He was upset at the reminder that Deku was with you when you were supposed to be having a study date. He was upset that Deku was the one who stayed up with you until two in the morning. He was upset that Deku was acting like a better boyfriend when he was just your friend and nothing more. Katsuki should've been doing more, he should've been doing a better job.

"I really am sorry for ditching you yesterday. If you want, we can redo the date today."

"I really missed you yesterday. I did some cramming with Deku, but I don't think he's as good of a teacher as you are."

"Of course dumb Deku isn't as good as me. I'll grab my books before I come back, we'll have a nice do-over date."

Hearing you say that Izuku wasn't as good as him made him feel good. It was slightly reassuring to Katsuki, yet he couldn't stop this budding feeling every time he thought about you and Izuku studying last night.  

"Buy her something nice. Something nice like jewelry. I always see you buying her practical stuff, that's boring. Girls like pretty shiny gifts from their boyfriends."

Mina's second piece of advice had been to buy you some jewelry. According to Mina jewelry was an acceptable gift for a boyfriend to buy his girlfriend. Katsuki had been buying you practical and weird gifts throughout your relationship. He thought they were good, he thought they were sweet and enjoyable. He supposed he was wrong. With every piece of advice from Mina, Katsuki was getting punched in the gut. He thought he was treating you right, he thought he was doing this whole relationship thing right, but he wasn't. If he didn't fix things fast then dumb Deku would steal you away from him.  

Katsuki felt inside of his pocket for the necklace he bought you. He had Mina help him pick it out that morning. It had been sitting there in a pretty little black box with a red bow waiting to be opened. He wanted to give it to you when he gave you the flowers, but he didn't want you to view it as an apology gift, he wanted it to be viewed as a sweet, 'I was thinking of you', gift.

By the time Katsuki had gotten back to your dorm room, you were all showered and dressed in fresh clothes. You were wearing comfortable clothes, and Katsuki had to smile again. You looked simply perfect. With your hair pushed back by a headband, sweatpants, and another one of his sweaters which you practically swam in, you looked angelic to him. Katsuki put a bag containing your lunch on the small table you had in your room, he placed the vase containing your new flowers there too before pulling out your lunch. You grabbed his book bag from him with a smile and began to pull his books out and place them alongside yours in a neatly organized fashion to create a nice study space.

"What'd you find for lunch?"

"There wasn't much in the fridge to quickly grab, so I made some curry."

"I love it when you cook. It always tastes good."

You smiled at Katsuki and placed a quick peck against his cheek before taking a seat next to him. His chest swelled with pride as he watched you freely dig into the container of food. You liked his cooking, and as he watched you feast in it he knew you weren't lying. At least he did one thing right on his own. One more wrong thing and he was sure he was going to blow a casket.

"Aren't you gonna eat?"

You stared at him with half-lidded eyes and spoke with your mouth half full, barely pronouncing your words but Katsuki still knew what you were saying. He stopped staring at you and began working on his own dish. Every once and a while Katsuki noticed your eyes go from your food to his face and then to the flowers before diving back to the food. He supposed you really liked them. It felt good knowing he was doing it right. It felt good knowing you were happy and content with him for the moment.

You wiped your face off and just as you were about to clean up your lunch mess Katsuki jumped up and took care of it. He grabbed your lunch containers and closed them before tossing them back into the bag he brought them in. He took a wet wipe and wiped up your table and then proceeded to toss the dirty wipe in the trash bin.

"Ready to study?"

"Yup! You're a really good teacher, I really look forward to our study dates."

You walked over to your bed and took a seat on the ground whereas Katsuki laid across your bed in a position where he could have a book out and also easily look over the edge to see what you were doing. This was how you always did your study dates. Katsuki would work and watch to see if you were slacking off, then you would switch books and quiz each other. Slowly the clock clicked away, each passing second made Katsuki grow antsy. He wanted to give you the stupid neckless he had inside his pocket. Katsuki huffed as he slammed his book shut and pushed it off of the bed. You craned your neck back to see what Kastuki was doing before narrowing your eyes, no way did he think he could stop studying while he made you work.

"What are you doing? Are you studying up there?"

"No, c'mere."

You huffed as you pulled yourself up off of the floor and crawled onto the bed next to Katsuki. A mixture of blankets and skin touched you as he wrapped his arms around your body and pulled you so your back was flush against his chest. He let his head rest inside your neck, and you struggled to pull out of his grip.

"What are you doing? We're supposed to be studying."

"I don't wanna study right now. The test is Monday, we can still study tomorrow."

You bit your lip as you contemplated his offer. He had a point. The test was Monday morning, and it was only Saturday, not to mention that you had studied with Deku yesterday. The offer was just so out of character for Katsuki, part of you wondered if it was a trick and thought he was going to pull out a piece of rolled-up newspaper to hit you with like he did for Eijirou. You let yourself sink into his arms, you had been up to this for a while, you deserved a break.

"Okay, but only a small break. got it?"

"Mm. I got you something."

Katsuki pulled away from your body to dig in his pocket and pull out the small black box. You rolled over so you could face him and your gift with a growing smile on your face. You loved Katsuki's gifts. Whether it was intentional or not, he always got you something you needed. Whether it was you complaining about cold hands or your lack of working pens, the next day you would find gloves and a pack of pens with a note from him saying something stupid, like 'You better use these to take your shitty notes' and 'If you get arthritis in your hands you can't become a hero'. It was always a surprise and a delight. Katsuki handed over the box and you tore the bow off before opening it.

"It's a necklace!"

"Oh, it's very cute."

You tried not to frown as you looked over the necklace. You tried you're best to put a beaming smile on your face. It was still a gift and you needed to show your gratitude. It wasn't as conventional as your other gifts, but it was still pretty. Maybe it had a special meaning? Maybe he saw it and thought of you? It was just so unusual. He never bought you jewelry and the style was obviously not his.

"Did you pick it out yourself?"

You tried not to make it sound like you were fishing for an explanation as you smiled and clasped it around your neck to show how much you 'loved' it. Katsuki contemplated telling you he picked it out himself but seeing as you were friends with Mina he wasn't sure what she'd say and he didn't want to look bad.

"Well, I got a little help. Figured a female's perspective wouldn't hurt."

Suddenly you felt sick to your stomach. Not only had he given you a necklace, an unconventional and unusual gift compared to the ones he usually gave, but he let a girl pick it out. There was no special meaning, it was just pretty. Your mind went back to the flowers. The yellow roses. He bought you yellow roses. Your whole relationship he brought different breeds and types, never roses. Especially not yellow, the color that represented friendship.

"Thank you, I love it!"

You wrapped your arms around Katsuki, bringing him into a big, tight hug. Although you were with him physically, mentally you were in other places. That dark place in the back of your head was telling you why he gave you these offhanded weird gifts. The dark place in the back of your head was filling you with untrue silly thoughts, yet you couldn't help but let your head entertain them and wonder. The more you wondered, the more you wanted to rip your neckless off.

mina

Pop music could be heard blaring loudly from a BlueTooth speaker connected to Mina's phone as you walked into her dorm room. Without knocking you barged right in, Mina supposed there really was a reason you and Katsuki were together. You were both bluntly rude and sometimes you didn't even realize it. You flopped down at the foot of her bed and looked up at her before greeting your pink friend.

"Hey."

"Hi."

Mina didn't look up from what she was doing, she continued flicking through the pages of some fashion-forward girly magazine as she replied to you. You ran your fingers through her soft duvet as you looked around her dorm room. It looked like Claires threw up on the walls and it gave you a major headache. You and Mina had two different style sets, two sets of style very far apart.

"Did you study for the test tomorrow?"

Unlike her room, that was a subject that would give Mina a headache. Mina roughly flipped another page of the magazine she was holding as she let out an exhausted breath.

"No, and before you scold me neither did Denki. I swear Katsuki is rubbing off on you."

At the sound of his name, your hand went up and touched the necklace he got for you. You only wore it in case you saw Katsuki today, you planned to wear it for the next two weeks, then you'd pretend you lost it. You weren't a necklace kind of person, and it wasn't even sentimental. Mina tossed her magazine down on the bed and a smile played on her face as she saw the necklace between your fingers.

"That's a cute necklace? Did Katsuki get it for you?"

"Yeah, he did."

You answer Mina's questions and inquiries as you let the gem on the necklace slip out of your fingers. You couldn't help but let your face slip into a frown. You couldn't help it, the more you thought about the necklace, the further you fell into dark thoughts. It wasn't even the fact that it wasn't sentimental like all of the other gifts he gave you, it was the fact he let some girl pick it out. You weren't a controlling person, not remotely. If Katsuki wanted female friends he could have them, he did have them. While he wouldn't call Mina a friend, she was. Mina was a girl you felt comfortable with, however, you had already had a girl in mind of who you thought helped him, a girl who wasn't Mina. A girl you didn't feel comfortable with, a girl you knew you shouldn't feel comfortable with.

"Well, it's very pretty, if I had a boyfriend who brought me gifts like that I'd be over the moon. So I take it things between you and Katsuki are good then?"

"I guess, um, I just... I think Katsuki is cheating on me."

You started off in a stutter before you bluntly spoke out your words. The moment your voice hits your ears you cringe at yourself and cross your arms. It was such a ridiculous thought. A horrendous and dark thought that, lately, kept crossing your mind more often than it should be crossing and occurring.

"What? Why?!"

"He's just acting so strange and weird."

You pulled yourself up into a cross-legged sitting position on Mina's bed to talk to her. Mina moved and adjusted her own body, completely immersed in what you were saying. You played with your hand as your next words came out.

"Whenever he's out late he always, and I mean always comes to my dorm before going to bed. He didn't come to my dorm last Friday, instead, he shows up at my dorm Saturday afternoon with flowers."

"Flowers are sweet and romantic though. The fact that he bought them for you means he cares."

"Katsuki always brings me a wide variety of flowers. Hydrangeas, snapdragons, hyacinth. It's out of the ordinary and romantic, but this time he bought roses. Not just any roses, yellow roses. What kind of statement is he trying to make with that one?! Everyone knows yellow roses mean friendship and red means romance. Even Denki knows that."

Mina scratched the back of her head nervously. She supposed she should have explained to Katsuki to get red roses. Katsuki was unaware of things in the romance department. Mina needed to try and dial things back before Katsuki found out what you're thinking.

"Katsuki isn't very romantically smart, you're his first serious romantic relationship."

"Yeah, but we've been dating for nearly a year, and that's not even it. We were studying yesterday, and you know how strict Katsuki is when he's studying, you've seen him with Eijirou. Katsuki was not strict at all, he made me stop studying to cuddle. To cuddle! Can you believe that?"

"Well... Maybe he's trying to be sweeter to you, I mean look at the necklace he got you, it's so romantic."

"Don't even get me started on the necklace! Katsuki always brings me sentimental and meaningful gifts. He buys me pencil led when I'm low, and notebooks when he sees my paper is getting down to the end, he buys me gloves when he notices mine are lost or have holes. They're stupid and meaningful and I love it."

You ran your fingers through your hair distressed and upset. Yanking your hands through a few new forming snarls from laying on the bed, practically pulling some hair strands out.

"The necklace isn't meaningful, it doesn't have sentiment, and he didn't even pick it out himself! Some girl picked it out for him."

"Why, didn't he say who? It doesn't mean anything. The girl is probably a friend."

"I think I already know who the girl is. It's some stupid brunette from Shiketsu High. They met during his supplementary lessons, they met again after their internship heroes started working together regularly. She saw him when we were walking to get coffee and she just had to stop and talk to him, she was obviously flirting with him."

You had never felt more awkward at that moment. She was blatantly flirting with him, whether she knew that you were together or not, you didn't know. You didn't expect Katsuki to talk about his relationship during his internship, he was supposed to be working, but you didn't trust her. You knew from that moment the brunette was going to be trouble. She was interested in your boyfriend and that spelled out trouble to you.

"'had a little help' he says, staking her claim on what's mine I say."

"[Y/N], I don't think katsuki would cheat on you. He wouldn't do that."

Mina felt completely nervous. She hadn't realized you and she had such different opinions on romance and what was wooing and not. Katsuki was romantic, he was doing nothing wrong, she just didn't see it from your point of view. Mina had worried Katsuki for nothing and gave bad romance advice which resulted in you worrying. Katsuki was going to kill her, she needed to fix this.

"[Y/N], Katsuki loves you a lot, don't worry, okay?"

"Okay, you're probably right, I'm thinking too much. I'm going back to my dorm, try to get some studying in before the test tomorrow."

Despite the pink girl's words you still didn't feel good. As you stood up and walked to her door, you still felt a rush of negative thoughts and emotions. You still felt winded and emotional. You still felt hurt and fearful of your relationship. You felt the same as you did when you walked into her dorm.  

You nervously tapped your leg up and down on the ground repeatedly as Mr. Ectoplasm and his copies passed out the scored math tests to the class. You supposed a quirk like that must be very useful as a teacher. You kept making little glances over at where Katsuki was sat and your heart clenched. You felt so ridiculous for suspecting he was cheating. You felt completely horrible. Mina was right, Katsuki loved you. Katsuki loved you and he would never cheat. The simple thought that he would was wrong, yet, this lingering feeling told you he was. 

Maybe you should talk to him about it. Maybe you should tell him and express your fears and worries. It was better to talk about things like this, it was better to express yourself rather than locking it up and away, where it could fester and damage your relationship. You looked back over at Katsuki, who caught your glace this time and smiled at you. The smile made you feel sick and guilty for feeling this way. You would tell him how you were feeling after class. The sooner it was out in the open the better. 

You turned back to your test sheet and frowned at the result. You got a forty. Forty. After all that studying you had received a forty. You wanted to be mad at Katsuki for not making you study harder, but you had studied with Izuku first hand. Maybe Ectoplasm would let you take a retest. Ectoplasm dismissed you all and you quickly folded up your test paper in half so no one could see your result as you exited. After you packed up your school bag you stood out in the hall and waited for Katsuki. 

The nerves in your stomach churned. You didn't want to tell Katsuki the negative thoughts that were running through you, you didn't want to tell him how you had dark thoughts and worries about him cheating, but you had to tell him. You had to put your thoughts and theories to rest. Katsuki came out in the hall with his own test papers in hand and you both began to walk to your next class. 

"What'd you score?"

"Got a ninety-two. You?"

"A forty."

You sighed as you clenched the paper in your hand. That was a D. Katsuki was on the fritz. He was trying to take Mina's advice. He wanted to be nice and softer to you like Mina told him he had to be, but he couldn't. You should've studied harder, he should've made you study harder. Katsuki gritted his teeth and took a deep breath to calm himself down before responding. 

"You'll do better next time!" 

"What is wrong with you?"

"What do you mean?"

You looked at Katsuki like he grew two heads. This wasn't your boyfriend, and you slightly wondered if Toga had infiltrated UA. He was never kind like this, he wasn't a positive person. He was supposed to yell at you. Tell you to study better. Tell you you needed to get good scores if you were going to become a hero with him. 

"It's just a bad test score, not every score can be a baller."

"I failed my test, you're supposed to yell at me. Tell me I'm stupid, tell me to study more. Tell me anything but that fake positivity shit! You are not acting like yourself, are you cheating on me? Is this guilt? Are you guilty?"

"No! Fuck, no!"

Katsuki dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around you. That wasn't how you meant to tell him about the thoughts you were having. You wanted to tell him calmly and respectfully, you hadn't meant to flat out accuse him, your thoughts just need up tumbling out that way. Katsuki's own reassuring words came stumbling out in your ear as he tightly gripped you against him.  

"You are perfect and beautiful, and so important to me. I would never cheat on you, I would never fuck up what I have with you. Why would you think that? I don't wanna make you feel that fuckin' way."   

"I know that. I know you wouldn't, but you have been acting so weird and different." 

"I need to be nice or else I'm going to lose you. I got insecure, but shit, I should be. You are so perfect, and you deserve roses and jewelry and the world. You deserve someone who cuddles you instead of studying and who doesn't make you feel like they're cheating and fuck-" 

You pull out of Katsuki's tight grip and cup his cheeks. Your fingers skimmed over his skin tenderly as you stared up at his red eyes and noticed how watery they were. Your heart broke, you thought he was unfaithful but he was really just scared of losing you.

"I don't want you to be soft and nice. You already give me the world Katsuki. You make me study because you care about me. I don't want you to get me roses and Jewelry, I hate it, and I love the stupid little gifts you get me. You don't give me affection and cuddles, but you do other things, like waiting to walk me to class and making me food." 

"You don't want me to be nicer?"

"No! Everything you do is already perfect. Everything you do shows me you care about me in your own way. I love the way you are, I don't want you to change."

Katsuki pulled you back into his arms and pressed a rough kiss against your forehead. He was doing everything right. He was better than dumb Deku, and your test score was proof of that. He wasn't going to lose you, Denki and Mina were wrong. 

"Come to my dorm tonight, you need to study better dumbass."

It didn't matter that the whole class watched the exchange between you both. It didn't matter that Mina had screwed with your relationship and felt very relieved to have gotten off scot-free, for now at least. It didn't matter because all Katsuki cared about was the fact that he was a great boyfriend, the best. He didn't have to be softer, nicer. He didn't have to change, you liked it. You loved him, the way he was. That was all that mattered.

[pretoriafics]

Russian Roulette - Pt. 1

Hey there! I have been with this idea well-kept for a time, but just now I could finally write it. Hope you like it!

About this series: You are an Au Pair, who is living in America for the past 7 months. You become friends with Scott and Stiles and begun to notice that they have some secrets. Worried, you use your smartness to find out what the hell is going on with your friends, and simply bump into the supernatural world despite all the effort the boys made to keep you away from it. It seems like you are diving deeper and deeper into this dark world, mainly after you found out that you have a werewolf soulmate. In this series, you will find: Alternative Universe, Soulmate plot, Angst, Fluff. Word count: 1.261 Pairings: Foreigner!Reader x Platonic! Scott and Stiles Warnings: English is not my main language <3 Yeah, it was based on Russian Roulette by Rihanna Russian Roulette series: Chapter Two RUSSIAN ROULETTE MASTERLIST TEEN WOLF MASTERLIST

"Wake up, dear! School day!"

You had knocked on the door twice and slightly, waking up Sarah Britton, who was five years old. It was a beautiful and sunny Monday, and mainly another day of the job for you.

You were an Au Pair: Basically, a foreigner nanny who is hosted by an American family - called "host family" - while taking care of their children - called "host kids" -, and study at the same time. It is an exchange program, and you already had completed seven months in the United States.

Sarah and her older sister, Natasha, with her nine years old, despite not have the same blood as you, was almost like your children. You were fully passionate about them, and the girls love you the same way.

Sarah rolled through the sheets, letting out a low groan.

"Just more five minutes, pleease..."

"No, hun, you need to wake up. Come on, you'll get late! Nat's already downstairs."

She sits up on the bed, rubbing her eyes, lazy. When you saw her getting into the bathroom, you go downstairs to check Nat when, finally, the song of the bell echoes through the house. And when you open the front door, you saw those two little troublemakers you were waiting for.

"Good morning, sunshine!"

You gave Stiles a low chuckle, taking a step to the side, letting Stilinski and McCall enter the house. Scott gave you a warm hug.

"Morning, (Y/N)!"

You retributed the hug, with a huge smile on the face.

"Good morning, boys! Your breakfast is in the kitchen. Be fast, or Nat will eat it, and you'll go to class starving."

Stiles was the boy next door. He and Scott were one of the first people in the city who you had met. You remember like it was yesterday when you were lost, and Stiles and Scott offered you a ride on Stiles's Jeep - since your English course was next to their school. Since then, you took a ride with them every day. You were so funny, and so sweet, that you become friends quickly. Since then, Scott and Stiles were used to having their breakfast in your home. Both of them walked through the living room to the kitchen, and Stiles smiled at Nat.

"Wow! Are you eating that much?"

The girl returned the smile for him.

"Yeah, be careful!"

Scott and Stiles sat on the chairs, ready to eat. Sarah came down a few minutes later, and then, when everyone had finished their breakfasts and the girls took the school bus, you, Scott, and Stiles got into the Jeep. You were going to the school, and the chat was nice and funny as always. But, then, a weird matter arouse inside the Jeep.

"Uhn, so..." Scott looks at you from the passenger's seat. He seems cautious. "The officials have been saying that these attacks through the town were from animals."

You arched your eyebrows, disbelief with that information.

"Well, I don't know what kind of animal just simply rip humans that way. Don't you guys think there's something weird?"

Scott opened his mouth, and he and Stiles stare at each other. You had the odd impression that the words simply ran from them. Stiles clears his throat and starts to talk.

"Well, my dad saw the body personally, and he also thinks it was an animal."

"Sebastian also saw the body personally, and he thinks it's everything too weird."

Sebastian, your host dad, was the co-worker of Sheriff Stilinski. He was like a dad for you, and it was common for you to talk with him about his work. You always create suppositions about his investigations with him when you saw something in the newspaper, and he always thought of how funny your theories were.

"I'm just saying" Scott started to say again "that you have to be careful. You'll be going to a party on Friday, aren't you? Did you really need to go to this party?"

You rolled your eyes.

"Of course I need. I mean, my time here is limited, do you know about that? An Au Pair just can stay in America legally for two years. I'd already had seven months, and I want to enjoy every weekend, and every party, before going back to my country. Come on, Scott, I need to enjoy this experience! Also, I heard that it will be a full moon night on Friday." Scott's eyes become wider but you didn't stop to talk "Seems like the sky will be pretty romantic, and, you know, it would be cool if I found a nice guy to see the stars with me."

"But..." Stiles began to talk "You aren't afraid of die?"

"Guys, I'll be okay. It's just a party. You're overacting."

Stiles parked on the school, and you come out of the jeep. Stiles and Scott were weird, and they seem worried about something.

"Come on, boys!" You crossed your arms in front of your body, with your eyes narrowed like a cat's eyes. "Do you think you guys can make a fool of me? I know you're hiding something." This time, it was your turn to look at them worryingly. "You can talk with me if you're in trouble. Don't be afraid of it, I'm pretty sure I can help you. Come on guys, what the heck is going on?"

They contracted his mouths. Oh my Gosh. They were holding a laugh in a moment like these? Are they kidding with you? Scott was the first to open his mouth to say something.

"You meant to say 'what the heck, (Y/N). The neck is the part between the head and the chest, the place you put your necklaces."

"...Oh." You blush. "Heck. Okay. But I'm talking seriously with you. I know you're hiding something, and I hope it's just teenage bullshit. Please, don't do something that will ruin your lives."

Scott and Stiles's hearts ached a little bit with your puppy's worried eyes. You were smart, and all of your smartness was a dangerous thing in Beacon Hills. You could put yourself in danger being like that.

"'We're fine, okay?" Stiles said for you, with a comforting smile that didn't get any effects on you "You don't need to worry with us."

And, then, Scott was looking to the front of the school. He was serious at this time.

"Stiles, we have to go."

When Stiles looked in the direction that Scott was staring at, his face became pale as a candle. Your gaze followed their gaze, and you found a guy next to a black car, with sunglasses and a serious face. And, gosh, he was creepy!

The boys come back to look at you, with a fake smile, and walking away from you. Scott and Stiles wave their hands for you, saying goodbye, and Scott's says loud:

"Bye!"

With a soft smile, you wave your hands to them.

"Don't come back to your houses more dumbs than you already are!"

You turn around and cross the street, walking on the pavement towards your English course. But, then, you stopped walking. You turn around and see, from the other side of the street, Scott and Stiles talking with the creepy guy. The conversation between them sounds serious for you, and you had the impression that the creepy guy from the black car not just had known something about the secrets of Stiles and Scott than also was part of it.

And you were determined to find out about everything.

[raendown]

I return from the dead with a fic that isn't even for the Naruto fandom and I don't really have an explanation for myself.

Pairing: SamBucky Word count: 2317 Fandom: MCU Summary: Visiting Steve was always strange now that the guy was old and retired. Still, of all the things Sam expected out of today, witnessing a prime example of gay panic from the co-worker that's been mysteriously avoiding him was not one of them.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info under the header!

Honestly, the fact that Steve's house smelled like prunes was probably one of the funniest things that Sam had ever heard in his life. More than anything he would have loved to go back in time, to the days of reading about glorified heroes in history textbooks, and tell his fifteen year old self that Captain America, Steve Rogers, retired in a house that smelled like prunes. God, his best friend just had to throw himself in to being old the way he threw himself in to everything else.

"Is there a special reason for you visiting?" Steve's voice was more tremulous these days, less steady but no less warm. Just hearing him again after the shameful amount of weeks it had been since his last visit made Sam grin.

"Nah, just thought I'd pop in and see if you'd expired yet. Your birthday's coming up. Gonna be, what, three hundred? A thousand?"

Steve narrowed his eyes but there was fondness in them so it wasn't very scary even if he could probably still tackle Sam across the room if he wanted to. At this point it would hurt him too but he could do it. "You, young man, are-"

He looked chagrined at himself when Sam cut him off with a laugh.

"You shitting me? Did you really just call me young man? See if I ever let you live that down."

His friend grumbled but accepted the teasing as his due. That was just what he got for going back in time and doubling down on being so much older than his own best friends.

Since it had indeed been a little too long after they last saw each other there was quite a bit of catching up for them to do. Over cool glasses of sweet tea and a plate of cookies the two of them spent a pleasant couple of hours shooting the shit until Sam could almost forget the years that stretched between them now. It was jarring, sometimes, looking away from those clear blue eyes to realize all over again just how many wrinkles they were set in. Sometimes he hated it. Other times he could only smile to know that at least one of their ragtag bunch had found the peace they were looking for.

Eventually all that sweet tea went right to his bladder and Sam excused himself to use the bathroom. When he returned he took in the sight of his friend all snug under one of the blankets his late wife had knit and sighed, feeling maudlin suddenly for no good reason.

"I should probably get out of your hair," he said. "Let you get in your afternoon nap or whatever. No, stay there man, I'll clean up." His smile was easy as he snagged the dishes from their grazing and hauled it all over to the kitchen.

"You sure?" Steve's voice floated after him. "Nothing else you want to get off your chest?"

"Huh?"

Sam frowned at the cups he'd just placed in the sink, running back through his mind. They'd talked about pretty much everything he could think of.

"You didn't mention Buck once, you know. I thought the two of you were friends now."

"Ah. Yeah. So did I." The corners of his mouth twisted with a little bitterness, a little confusion. After everything they'd been through and the number of times Bucky had accepted his invitations down to Delacroix he'd thought they were well past the point of calling themselves friends. Maybe he himself felt something a little more than that but he knew better than to push.

That was probably why Bucky's sudden radio silence hurt so much though.

"Trouble in paradise?" Steve called from the other room and Sam snorted.

“Shit, I don’t know. One minute we’re fine and the next he just up and disappears on me again. I may or may not have checked a bunch of obituaries for your name just in case because I have no idea what I might have done to piss him off.” Sam pursed his lips. He’s already gone over all this with Sarah a half dozen times and in all the recounts he’d done of their last couple missions he still couldn’t find any particularly bad moment between him and his best friend. Unfortunately the sweet tea he was glaring at didn’t have any answers either so he snatched the pitcher up and moved to put it in the fridge.

“Have you tried, oh I don’t know, asking him what’s wrong?”

“You think I didn’t try that?”

Steve’s hum drifted down the hallway with a distinct note of sass. “Neither one of you is very famous for your communication.”

“Excuse you, I was a counselor. A certified veteran’s counselor. Communicating with people was literally my job until your overly buff ass came running around all ‘on your left’ and ‘everyone I know is trying to kill me’.” Sam huffed as he snapped the fridge closed. “I damn well tried to talk to him but he’s not answering my texts or my calls. Short of breaking in to his apartment I don’t really know what else you want me to do.”

Without any other excuses to keep him in the kitchen Sam heaved a sigh, knowing he couldn’t dawdle any longer. He could only get to the door by going though the living room so his choices were either run away out the back, which he would never ever hear the end of, or go back in to the living room and face Steve with his stupidly wise and knowing eyes. Seriously, let a guy live to almost two hundred and suddenly he thought he knew everything. Annoying was what it was.

He was only halfway down the hall when he heard the front door open. Sam very carefully swallowed down the jibe he’d just been about to deliver and hoped that meant what he thought it meant. Maybe Steve had finally gone vague after all and bailed in the middle of their conversation; he’d rather chase a crazy old coot down the street than talk about his feelings regarding one James Buchanan Barnes. Actually if he looked at it from the right angle then chasing an old coot down the street was pretty much his job description whenever he and his partner teamed up on missions. Sam was just glad they hadn’t been called in to one since this whole silent treatment had started because he wasn’t sure he wanted to know whether or not Bucky would still have his back even when the guy was mad at him over reasons unknown.

Two more steps and Sam froze in his tracks, eyes wide with disbelief. Bucky’s shoulders were hunched in to himself with something bridling on panic as he fit himself through the front door and kicked it shut behind himself, eyes wild and fixed on the ground between his feet, nervous energy pouring out of him in a way Sam hadn’t seen before. From his spot on the couch Steve watched his childhood friend let himself in with serene indifference.

“Didn’t know you’d be over today,” was all he said. Then he smiled benignly when Bucky let out a soft whine.

“Help,” Bucky pleaded. “I’m dying.”

Then Bucky slid down to his knees and face planted in the carpet, arms and legs splaying out wide. Steve hummed.

“You know,” he murmured, “no one ever believes me when I tell them you’re this dramatic.”

“Steve! I’m having a crisis!”

“I tell everyone you’re a drama queen and they just shake their heads at me.”

“This is important! You have to kill me, Steve. Or I’m gonna just- just-!” Bucky’s voice petered out with another extended whine muffled by the carpet that probably didn’t smell any better from that close up.

Crossing one leg over the other, Steve folded his hands in his lap with a great lack of concern for the ridiculous scene playing out before him. Sam remained frozen in the hallway, wondering if Bucky even realized he was there, but he got an answer to that almost faster than if he’d bothered to ask himself.

“What’s wrong, pal?”

“It’s Sam!” Bucky cried. His arms lifted up like wings to flail briefly before falling back to the floor in a boneless sprawl. “Please just crush my head or something. I can’t take this.”

“Ah, yes, I hear you’ve been avoiding him.”

Whatever kind of noise Bucky was trying to make, it came out sounding more like he was choking on carpet fumes. “Of course I’m avoiding him!”

“Now why on earth would you do that?”

“I want to stick my tongue in the gap between his teeth!” Bucky said, entirely unaware of the sparks that were suddenly running up Sam’s spine in the hallway. “Help me, Steve! I want to press my thumb in the little dimple on his back. He has a dimple on his back! Why!? Steve I want to hold his hand! What the fuck!”

Steve had both eyebrows up near his hairline and the most shit eating grin any human on the planet had ever worn when he turned his head to look at Sam. Frozen with his eyes on the figure currently panicking in to the floor, Sam paid him no attention. He was busy processing. After getting to know Bucky, inviting him to stay in Delacroix time and time again, the dramatics weren’t actually that much of a surprise. Obviously as they grew closer he’d gotten a number of glimpses in to who the real Bucky Barnes was under the grouchy veneer he presented to the world. Watching him starfish on the ground and whine wasn’t too far from what he’d already seen.

Hearing him say anything about his tongue in conjecture with Sam’s teeth, on the other hand, now that was a bit unexpected. More than a bit.

“I think Shuri called this ‘gay panic’ and honestly I’m in agreement,” Bucky went on mindlessly. “If I have to watch him go through one more workout and not grab his ass with both hands then I’m just going to rip both of them off. Who needs hands if I cannot grab Sam Wilson’s ass with them!?”

“You may be slightly exaggerating the situation, I feel,” Steve told him.

Bucky snorted. “I am not. I absolutely am not. Why is he so hot? And nice? I hate that. Except I don’t. Steve why is he so nice to me?”

“That might be a question you should ask him.”

“Oh yeah, sure, I’ve got lots of questions for him! Hey Sam, why are you nice to me? Hey Sam, can I lick your cheekbones? Hey Sam, how big is your cock?”

“Well. Not that I’ve ever thought to ask that myself but, alright. Go on, Sam, how big is it?”

Sam had just enough time to cross his arms over his chest and assume a very casual pose leaning against the wall beside him before Bucky’s head shot up off the carpet. If possible, his eyes were even more wild than before when he fixed them on Steve, full of the deepest betrayal. Then he very slowly dragged them sideways to see the man he’d just been panicking over. Sam gave him a very friendly smile.

“Depends on your frame of reference,” he admitted. “I’d say sizeable.”

“Nnnggggg.”

“Hi Buck.”

“Ggnnn.”

While Steve very poorly disguised a laugh behind one hand, Sam pushed off from the wall and sauntered further in to the living room. Bucky slammed his face back in to the carpet.

“Leave me here to die,” he pleaded in a very small voice. Sam tutted, reaching for the front door, only looking over his shoulder once he was halfway through it.

“Come on, Buck, can’t lick my cheekbones if you don’t get off the floor. It was a nice visit, Steve, but don’t be looking out your front curtains for a bit. I think I’ll let Bucky decide for himself what sizeable means.” He thanked god for the mercy of Steve’s house being situated out here so far from any other homes, surrounded on all sides by enough trees that you couldn’t see it from the road. A gorgeous little island of privacy. Sam was fairly sure he wasn’t the only one grateful for this, judging by the mad scrambling noises he could hear going on behind him.

Bucky’s voice garbled out something that sounded like ‘fuck you, thank you, bye forever’ and then Sam was listening to the slam of the front door barely a second before strong hands were wrapping themselves around his hips. He laughed even as Bucky’s face came in to view.

“Greatest assassin of several generations and you didn't notice my truck in the driveway?” he said.

“I may have been a bit distracted.” That was definitely a pout on Bucky’s lips.

“By being so hot for all of this”-Sam gestured vaguely down his own body-“that you literally ceased being able to function.”

He didn’t expect such easy agreement as the sheepish nod that followed his words. “Pretty much.”

Sam blinked slowly once, twice. For one long moment he considered teasing the man. Then he decided that their time was much better spent doing things they’d both obviously been wanting to do while assuming they would never get the chance.

“I was promised a tongue in my teeth. Are you gonna get to that any time soon or am I gonna sit here and pine some more for something I apparently could have had all along?”

Bucky keened piteously. Then he surged forward to follow through on his own promises and Sam really hoped that Steve had taken his words to heart about the curtains. The man was way too old to be seeing all the ways they were about to defile the side of this truck.

[valberryy]

efficacy. — zhongli

hi!! this started out as an oc fic, but i thought i'd convert it to a reader insert!! i tried to change some of the more "explicit" oc info, so hopefully it's fine now!

pairing: zhongli x gn!reader

content warnings: mentions of blood/injury/death, contemplations of/vaguely attempted murder, slight swearing. if these topics are sensitive to you, i'd recommend clicking away.

i. 

[Name]'s life would be nothing without order. They found a certain comfort in routines—working at the bookshop with Jifang in the afternoons, working for their less-than-legal clients once night fell. There was an odd kind of safety they found in it, in completed contracts and crossed-out bounties on a board: as they wiped the blood off their blade at sunrise, they found themself glad they no longer lived at the whims of ice, and snow, and migrating deer.

Tonight was odd, though. 

A dagger twirled deftly between their fingers, and [Name] raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the informant sitting before them. A mask and hood alike obscured his face, and he seemed almost to hesitate slightly beneath their burning gaze—a newbie, then, or a fool.

"So?" they asked, their voice like a whip-crack in the silence. "Don't waste my time."

"Apologies," he said, and [Name] had to resist the urge to scoff. At another raised eyebrow the informant dug through his things and passed them an envelope. 

Gingerly, they tore it open. "...Wangsheng?" they muttered to themself, before glancing back up. "I trust you have the right compensation?"

A stiff, "Of course," was their only response. 

The knife between [Name]'s fingers stilled, before it became embedded in the cheap wood next to their now-client's head.

They stood, gave an almost-mocking flourish of a bow, and walked off without another word.

ii. 

[Name] did not glance up from the shelf they were restocking when the footsteps of another customer coming up the stairs came into earshot, only saying a gruff, "Welcome," as they grew closer.

Their only response was a content hum, and they resisted the urge to sigh in relief that this particular patron wasn't a chatterbox. 

The minutes trickled by in comfortable silence, as the man—for he was a man, [Name] learned, as soon as they looked up and towards his direction—browsed through their selection. The only sounds to be heard were the blowing of the breeze and the idle chatter of people walking past.

"What a fine collection you have," he said, and turned to face the counter they were seated behind. At the sight of his face they were thrust back into two nights ago—an unpleasant evening in a dingy old house, an envelope in one hand and a cheap knife in the other. 

Not now, they thought to themself. Not now, when the blood can seep into the floorboards. The smell will hang for days.

"Thank you," they elected to say in reply. "...Will you be buying?"

He nodded, a thoughtful hand on his chin. "Indeed. The entire stock, actually."

[Name] faltered. "The entire…?" They coughed into a fist, regaining their composure and leaning forward on the counter. "That's going to cost you, sir."

They could almost see the excited sparkles around him as he opened his mouth to speak again, and whatever thoughts they had on how elegant and refined he seemed were thrown out to sea.

"Yes, of course," he began, "there truly is no treasure greater than knowledge, after all—there is a subtle nuance to the art to capturing a moment in time so vividly using just words alone…" 

As he continued to ramble, [Name] rested their chin on their palm. The daggers concealed beneath their clothes were cool and heavy on their skin—a constant reminder, a subtle threat. 

When his voice trailed off they gave a small, polite smile, standing upright again. "If you have the Mora, there should be nothing stopping you, sir."

The faraway, almost dreamy look in his eyes grew lucid at the mention of Mora. "Ah, of course. Mora," he said, and started patting his pockets searching for his wallet.

When neither of them heard the telltale clinking of coins, they glanced at each other almost exasperatedly. 

"My deepest apologies—"

"...No, it's okay—"

The knife still burned against their skin, but they brushed it aside for a moment to grab an unwrapped copy of a book under the desk. They held it out to him, their face blank but the faintest, faintest hints of amusement dancing in their eyes.

He was…interesting. Dead men can rarely boast as much.

 "Take it," they said, simply. 

His eyes seemed to widen in pleasant surprise. "Are you certain?" he asked, and at [Name]'s casual shrug in the affirmative he gingerly took it from their hands. 

"Thank you kindly," he said, raising the package in the air and inspecting it. "I'll have to repay you, for this."

They looked at him again, and thought of the envelope from the other night, thought of how they could almost feel his pulse as their fingers brushed just seconds prior.

"I'll hold you to it, then, sir," they elected to say.

Not now, not now, not now.

iii.

On his lips played a gentle smile that [Name] couldn't help but to distrust. 

"There's a restaurant I believe you'd like," he had said. "Allow me to treat you for lunch, as thanks."

Their head had thus begun to swim with backup plans and what-ifs. Did he know? Was this some elaborate ruse to poison them? Surely not, right? They had been so careful up until now, too…

They blinked away their initial surprise and canted their head to the side. "Where?"

At that he went off onto another tangent, just as long as the ramble he had gone on a few days prior. [Name] found themself zoning out, glancing at where they knew his jugular was beneath his collar—or perhaps poison during their impromptu outing would fare better?

No, they scolded themself, there would be witnesses at a restaurant.

"...Don't worry, of course, I'll be sure to bring the Mora this time around," he said with a velvety laugh, and [Name] suddenly found themself back in the present.

They leaned forward on the bookstore counter, an eyebrow raised. "I don't even know your name, Mister Philanthropist." 

Another smile graced his features, then—apologetic this time, and he outstretched a hand for them to shake. "My apologies," he said. "I am Zhongli, consultant for Wangsheng Funeral Parlor."

Gingerly, they took his hand in turn. They could feel the rhythmic beat-beat-beat of his pulse under their fingers.

Soon, they thought. 

"Call me [Name]," they said, and forced themself to smile.

A few days later, it just so happened that both of their schedules were free. 

"Would you still be willing to indulge me?" Zhongli asked—he had been visiting more often lately, and it just so happened that many of his visits happened to be on the days [Name] was there, as well. Jifang seemed curious, and honestly they were as well—did he enjoy their company? Was there something about their short, curt responses that didn't turn him away?

Or maybe he was planning something, too?

Nevertheless, despite their raging paranoia, it wasn't like they were in much of a position to complain. Jifang seemed content at their new, distinguished guest, and [Name] took it as an opportunity to learn more about him for the time being. 

"...If you so wish," they said, plucking the book he was holding out of his hands to wrap it for him. 

"Only if you do, my friend." Damn him and his deflection. "But it is my firm belief that the generous receive what is due to them, in time."

They hummed idly as they thumbed through the book he had chosen—something or other about the natural beauty of Inazuma—and then glanced back up at him.

And that was how they found themself here, they supposed.

Their table was relatively silent compared to some others, but it was by no means uncomfortable or awkward. With the idle chatter of other people and the clear sky above as a backdrop, the two dined in comforting silence—only the clinking of ceramic against each other to be heard, and to [Name]'s surprise, no traces of poison to be found whatsoever.

As the sun began to dip down the horizon, and all their food had been finished and the bill paid, the two found themselves taking a stroll down by the docks. Zhongli's gaze was trained ahead, while [Name]'s flitted about cautiously.

"Forgive me if I'm prying, however…" he began, "...But you're not a native, are you, my friend?"

A jolt, then, a bolt of white-hot fear running through their limbs. Did he know? Did they give themself away? 

"I'm not," they said. "I was born abroad." 

A satisfied hum was their response, and when they turned to glance at him, they found the smallest of smiles on his face.

"It's getting late," Zhongli said. "Thank you for today. I'd like to do this again, with you."

[Name] took pause at that. They thought once again of the envelope hidden under their drawers, and the knives hidden under their clothes.

They thought about the way Zhongli rambled on about whatever tale it was the storyteller across the street had spun—how "that indeed is one interpretation of it, but in the original text, the author actually meant to imply that…" 

There was a pang of what almost felt like guilt in their chest, at that. 

"...And I, you," they said, finally, "...my friend."

iv.

Perhaps stumbling into your supposed assassination target's home half-bloody with an arrow sticking out of your side was not the brightest idea, but in [Name]'s defense were two things: first of all, they had no fucking clue it was Zhongli's in the first place, and secondly, they couldn't exactly keep running from their angry former client with an arrow sticking out of their side.

And thus whatever levels of discretion they normally would have had were thrown out the window as they climbed into Zhongli's in the dead of night, and probably knocked something over in the process (if the new bruises were anything to go by). 

(To be fair, they had been calling each other friends for a while now. Is this what friends did? [Name] couldn't be sure—their shady friends weren't exactly the best examples, after all.)

They had just sat up and groaned in pain when Zhongli came in, alarmed first at the noise and then at their sorry state. 

"...Sorry," they muttered through gritted teeth. "Thought the place was empty—ow, shit! I can—I can do it mysel—"

"Nonsense," he said, his voice and hands firmer than they had noticed before. "...I still haven't repaid you for your favour to me, after all."

They stopped for a moment, at that. "...I thought the lunch was repayment?"

Somehow, Zhongli found it in himself to laugh, albeit tensely. From where they were sitting, they could see his face a lot more clearly than they had before—the tenseness in his brow, the flecks of gold in his amber irises, the way his nose crinkled at the density of the smell of blood.

"No," he replied, "that was a thank you."

They hummed, before hissing in pain again. "Pull the other way; the arrowhead went in at an angle—"

"Ah, yes, my mistake…"

[Name] continued, "I suppose this is your repayment, then?"

They only barely hid their surprise when he shook his head again. 

"I'm doing this because I want to, [Name]."

(Somehow, they liked their name better when hearing it from him. Was it the timbre of his voice? Was it the appeal of hearing your name from a man who was supposed to be long-dead?)

"...I see."

As he sealed the last of the bandages and allowed them to adjust their clothes, he helped them over to what they assumed was a guest room, of sorts. He helped them to take a seat on shaky legs, and placed a firm, almost comforting hand on their shoulder.

"Promise me you'll be more careful, my friend."

They glanced away, their face oddly warm. Wasn't blood loss supposed to do the opposite? "I can't guarantee that, Zhongli."

He followed their gaze over to the floor, and then glanced back at them. "If not that, then I'd at least ask you to…rely on me more," he said, and something about the sincerity in his voice struck them as odd. 

They almost wanted to burn that envelope in their drawers when they went home.

[Name] glanced back up at him, forcing themself to face his questioning gaze.

"...I'll try." 

But only for you.

+1.

In [Name]'s life, there exists a line they do not dare themself to cross. On one side stands sweet Jifang from the bookshop, the tenacious Traveller and their friends, and the ghosts of their loved ones from Inazuma; and on the other stands themself and their other shadowy benefactors. 

The first to tread the line between the two was Zhongli—who, despite the bounty on his head, still managed to maneuvre his way into them somehow being able to call him their friend.

Honestly. The Seven damn him and his stupid charisma, and his stupid voice, and his stupid encyclopedic knowledge of silk flowers.

When [Name] woke up, they were not in their home. 

Through their shock they failed to register the bandages wound around their torso, and bit back a yelp of pain as the wound threatened to reopen. In the dark they could see their overwear folded neatly on the bed next to them, and Zhongli asleep, slumped over in a chair.

Suddenly, they were acutely aware of the old bone knife under their clothes—their only souvenir from home, unstained by blood for years, and years, and years.

Would Zhongli be its first, then?

Quietly they stood and dug through their folded clothes until they felt it—the uneven blade, the worn-down grooves near the hilt. They skulked their way over to where he slept, and tried to ignore how painfully peaceful his slow, even breaths were.

His eyes fluttered open just as they pressed the blade to his throat. He seemed too calm, though, not even a twitch of his hands or a hitch in his breath to give away any surprise at all. All he did was place a loose grip on their wrist—a stark contrast to their white-knuckled, shaking hand—and ask,

"What are you doing, [Name]?" 

They grit their teeth. "...I'm sorry," they said, "but I have a contract to complete."

Something in Zhongli's eyes softened at that. This was his domain, they realised—contracts, and contingencies, and wordplay. 

His grip on their wrist tightened, ever so slightly, and he traced his free hand over their clenched jaw. "But so do we," he replied. "I've still never paid you back, after all."

There was a pause, then—a long, pregnant silence. 

"May I kiss you?" Zhongli asked, his voice like a whip-crack in the space between them. [Name] said nothing, but the crease between their brows deepened further. 

The dagger embedding itself into the floor and the soft, firm press of their lips against his was enough of an answer.

[nightshadeshadow123]

Teasing: Part 2 (Ratched)

Here is part two for those that wanted it. I hope ya'll enjoy. I'm gonna change the story line a bit as I see fit because I don't want to turn this into a whole unwanted story book if I fit the whole original story line in at a slow pace and time line. 

Gwendolyn followed behind Mildred, easily catching up to her as Mildred spared her a side glance, eyes softening for a moment.

"Can I help you Ms Briggs?" She asked, trying to keep her tone of voice emotionless and authoritative as ever.

Gwendolyn shot her a warm smile stopping next to her as Mildred came to a stop at a door before turning to her.

"Maybe, yes. I just wanted to ask if you'd like to go out with me and (Y/N) to a restaurant tonight?" Gwendolyn asked, trying to play off her nerves and hoping for the best.

Mildred raised a dark eyebrow at the blonde. "Why would I do that?"

Gwendolyn rolled her blue eyes before giving her another smile. "Oh come on, it will be a adventure. Just for tonight after work." She urged.

She was really hoping that the red haired woman would say yes. She's just as interested in her as much as you are after meeting her for the first time. She was intrigued when you've started talking about the red haired nurse when the two of you were out somewhere or at home and she definitely knew why you were so intrigued by her after meeting her.

Mildred slug her shoulder for a moment, eyes focused on the older blonde woman.

"Okay fine, I'll go on that supposed adventure with the two of you." She agreed reluctantly, fighting of a blush trying to spread across her cheeks.

Gwendolyn gave her a closed eyed smile. "Wonderful, (Y/N) and I will pick you up later. Just tell me where."

"Sealight Inn." Mildred informed her before taking a hold of the cold door knob and unlocking it with the key she had in her other hand.

"Pick you up at 7." Gwendolyn confirmed with her before turning around and walking down the hallway.

Mildred listen to her footfalls until it's just distant before shaking her head and walking into the room.

-*Timeskip brought to ya by Ratched's juicy peaches.-*

"Hurry up back there love. It's almost time to go!" Gwendolyn said excitedly, popping her head around the corner into your room and seeing you messing around with a strap on your dark grey dress.

"Just a minute. This stupid strap won't cooperate with me tonight." You huffed out in annoyance. "I hate dresses."

Gwendolyn let out a laugh and strides over to you and assisting you with the dress strap and giving you a peck on the lips before pulling away, making you send her a pout.

Gwendolyn laughed again at you. "Oh hush, there will be plenty of kissing later. Now let's go pick up that nurse before she gives us a labotomy for being late." She pulled you out of your apartment, almost growing impatient as you locked the door first.

"Oh hell to the fuck naw woman don't even mention that. Doctor Hanover was a pain in the side with that whole thing. God his whole idea of turning people straight is ridiculous but yeah I have to refrain myself from knocking him into oblivion." You grumbled and got into the the passenger seat of Gwendolyn's car.

She got in as well and shot you smile before starting the car and reversing out of the parking. "Honey I know, he have a weird way but yeah that's just how some people are. But at least he haven't caught onto us yet."

You hummed in agreement and interlocked your fingere with her other one hands fingers that is not on the steering wheel as she drove down the mostly empty street.

Gwendolyn shot you another smile, blue eyes sparing you a loving brief look before focusing back on the road ahead again and tightening her hold on your hand comfortably.

After a few minutes of driving you decide to break the comfortable silence.

"I still can't believe you've managed to get Mildred to go out with us on one of your fun 'adventures'."

The blonde woman laughed under her breath at you, hold once again tightening on your hand as you used your other hands black painted finger nails to trail against her soft skin in a unknown pattern, goosebumps rising on her skin as you smirked to yourself.

"Hey my 'adventures' is always fun. You love it even if you try to hide it. And ofcourse she would, who can resist not to come on one of my adventures?"

"Apparently no one. You've nagged me day and night to go on one when we've first met and you wouldn't stop until I've finally agreed." You chuckled.

Gwendolyn snorted at this. "Hell, getting you to go out on a date with me was one heck of task, you and Mildred are both as stubborn as a mule."

"Pfft, I'm just hard to be impressed and my dad wasn't so amused at you turning up at random times and he threatened to blow your brains out and honestly that wasn't something I'd like to see happen to you. And Mildred be like that but it makes it all the more fun to tease her." You mused out, keeping up the pattern on her soft skin, taking joy in the way it makes goosebumps rise to her skin as she tries to keep her cool.

"Well, I gotta agree with you there on the last part. God that father of yours was a pain but it was so worth it in the end because now I have you and he's a whole lot nicer now."

You kept up your small talk for another half hour before Gwendolyn turned into the drive way of the Motel where Mildred is staying at.

Mildred stood with her gloved hands folded together as she watched Gwendolyn's car pull up next to her, a unreadable look on her fair face.

You eyed her head from toe from inside the car. She was wearing a red and black attire and black gloves and with her hair in its usual updo with a small black hat resting comfortably upon her red hair.

Mildred looked behind her at the motel for a brief few moments before focusing her dark eyes back on the car again and began to approach the vehicle.

She got in the back seat of the car and softly closed the door behind her before looking at you and Gwendolyn as you both turn to greet her.

"Hey Mildred." You greeted, a warm smile grazing your red painted lips as you eyed the red haired woman.

"Hello (Y/N) and Gwendolyn." She greeted back, a hint of a smile ghosting across her lips as she eyed you both, hands crossing together again in a way to steel herself from the bit of nervousness creeping up on her after seeing the two of you.

Gwendolyn shot her a friendly smile too and greeted her excitedly before starting the car up again and driving once again after getting on the road again.

-*Another Timeskip brought to you by ya less than impressed goth mother-*

It didn't take long for you to find a table after arriving at the restaurant, sitting down at a table near the windows that had a nice out view of the sea outside.

Mildred sat in front of you while Gwendolyn sat next to you, her soft hand subtly on your clothed thigh in a caring matter, occasionally rubbing it slightly as you flip through the menu while Mildred, as subtly as possible scanned the dark grey dress you are wearing that have a low neckline that just give enough tease of your breasts and a fang necklice that's dangling between your breasts, her dark eyes focused on the small glimpse of skin for a longer while until Gwendolyn playfully nudged her lower leg with her heeled foot, giving her a smirk and teasing wink.

Mildred could feel a blush creeping up at both being caught out and the teasing wink and quickly averted her eyes, gloved hand going to her red painted lips and pretending to cough into it.

"Can I get your lovely ladies orders?" A rather slim looking waiter asked after stopping at your table, a nervous smile on his face and pen and notebook in hand.

All three of your focus snapped to the blond waiter.

"One large platter of oysters and lemon please." Gwendolyn ordered before looking at you as you slid your menu away.

"I'll just have some cooked salom with a side of potato slices with creamy sauce please." You orered and gave the nervous waiter a polite smile.

He quickly jotted that down before looking up again. "Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you." Gwendolyn dismissed him with a flick of her hand and watch as he speed walked away.

The blonde chuckled and put her hand on your upper leg again and gave you a warm smile as you looked at the older woman with adoration as you put your hand on top of hers, and using the other hand to swipe a lock of your hair behind your ear.

Mildred watched the two of you with a small smile, finding it cute at the way the two of you look at each other with adoration. This whole thing was new to her and made her a bit on edge but deep down she knew she was having fun and couldn't help herself from smiling and getting that strange flutter feeling in her stomach that made her feel tingles all over, wondering if that's how the two of you always feel when looking at each other.

The three of you chatter in small talk until the food arrived.

Mildred eyed the oysters nervously and you bite back a amused smile at the red haired woman, sifting in your seat until you are more comfortable before picking up your fork and knife.

"Uh...I've never eaten oysters before. I-I'm not sure how to...do this." Mildred sputtered out embarrassed, skeptically eyes the oysters.

Gwendolyn let out a laugh before giving her a reassuring smile.

"Oh, don't worry. (Y/N) over here didn't either until I taught her but then again she's not one for many type of seafood as you can see. She pretty much hate oysters and would only eat one every once in awhile if I beg her and feed her one." The older woman chuckled and nudged you with her side playfully as you gave her a playful death glare. (Sorry ya'll seafood lovers but damn that shit is enough to send me throwing tf up)

Mildred looked at you and let's out a soft laugh as you smile at her before cutting into your piece of salom.

Gwendolyn then proceeded to explain and ' demonstrate' how to eat it to red haired woman while you watched the older two women in both adoration and amusement.

As Gwendolyn leaned over the table slightly to feed a oyster to Mildred you sneaked your heel cladded foot out and ever so slowly brush it against Mildred's tight causing her to jump slightly and almost choke on the oyster.

Mildred looked at you in surprise, not having expected that but you only gave her a smug smirk, leg still brushing up against her smooth leg while you continued eating as Gwendolyn caught onto what happened and smile to herself.

The red haired woman fought back another blush, trying to ignore the goosebumps appearing on her skin as your soft leg brushed against hers in a sly way that have her getting wet.

"So?..."Mildred started, trying to keep her nervousness and arousal at bay.

"How and when did you two met?" She asked both genuinely curious but also to distract herself from the feeling of your leg against hers.

Gwendolyn looked at you and putted a hand on your upper leg again, squeezing it slightly, enjoying how you clearly enjoyed that and the way you are getting the nurse worked up with your other leg.

"We met at once at a bar, I tried getting to know her better but she wasn't too keen on that but I just knew I had to keep on trying. After she left I thought I never see her again but we did end up meeting again when her father had a business meeting with The Governor two months later, she was helping her father out as a assistant at the time." Gwendolyn began to explain excitedly while you continued to mess with the stoic nurse and getting amusement from her clear struggle to keep up her exterior.

"Her father didn't like me at first, he hated me in fact because as he like to put it, I was making googly heart eyes at his daughter and wanted to steal her and he was being protective." Gwendolyn chuckled um used lying at the memory of that day he said that.

You decided to join in on the conversation. "Yeah. He was ready to kill you after you've sneaked me out a few times and also get us in trouble or when you'd show up knocking at his door at two in the morning and your continued persistent urge to see me."

Mildred was listening with intrest now, a smile spread across her lips as she decide to be bold and sneaked her hand down and grabbed onto your lower leg that is brushing against hers causing you to pause as she eyed you, her fingers digging into your soft skin before tracing patterns on it as you gave her another teasing look, your hand dropping to Gwendolyn's hand on your tight.

"I know, but at least he likes me now. It took two years but I regret nothing and neither does he I think." Gwendolyn finished, looking at you again with a loving look you mirrored mixed with lust as she sneaked her hand to ghost dangerously close to your already throbbing center, the tips of her fingers skimming against it over your dress.

Mildred bite her lower lip subtly as she saw the look that the two in front of her is sharing, having a great idea at what they must silently convey with each other without uttering a word.

You slowly licked over your lower lip, (e/c) eyes darkening as Gwendolyn's blue lust filled eyes flicked down to your lips at the motion until she squeezed your thight again and your eyes met again until you gave a silent nod to the blonde.

Gwendolyn called the waiter over and told the nervous waiter to bring the bill and then focus to look at Mildred that is still watching you, her grip firm on your lower leg by now.

"Would you like to come back to our house?" The older woman dared to ask, having clearly noticed the way she have watched the two of you with her dark eyes, clearly aroused after the teasing you've done and they look the two of you had shared.

Mildred snapped her eyes back to Gwendolyn before clearing her throat, her tights rubbing together after she released your leg.

"Uh...Sure. I think so." She agreed reluctantly, not sure if she should.

Gwendolyn smiled at the waiter as he brought the bill and quickly paying for it and sending him off before grabbing her car keys and getting up with you.

You linked one arm with Gwendolyn and held a hand out to Mildred, waiting patiently for her to take it.

She looked down at your hand for a moment before taking it firmly and allow you to drag her along as Gwendolyn led you out of the restaurant and right towards her car, relishing your arm to open the passenger door for you and the back door for Mildred, not even bothering to hide her excitement as she watched the two of you get in.

"Thanks for this night out. It was fun." Mildred said in her raspy voice, one of her hands sneaking over the seat and resting on your shoulder and the other one on Gwendolyn's shoulder after Gwendolyn pulled out of the parking lot and started driving.

You both shot her a smile before Gwendolyn spoke up.

"It was a pleasure having you with us. Thank you for agreeing to come out."

Mildred smiled at this.

"But I bet we'll have even more fun at home." Gwendolyn eyed the red haired woman through the mirror of the car, smirking when seeying the other woman blush slightly and feeling the grip on her shoulder tightening.

"You don't say. Well then I can't wait."

You looked between them and put a hand on Gwendolyn's upper leg, notching how the older woman tense up for a moment as you sneaked your hand to her clothed center in a agonising slow pace.

Mildred smirked at this and as the two of you made eye contact you gave her a wink she just seemed to understand and decided to play along with your game by slipping her hand lower on Gwendolyn's shoulder slowly too, sneaking in beneath her light grey dress as the older woman tensed more at the unexpected moves from you both.

Mildred teasingly sneaked her fingers through the top of Gwendolyn's dark bra, her cold fingers groping her left breast  while your hand disappear between the blondes legs, cupping her aching center firmly as she try to hold back a tiny moan.

"Don't...distract me." The blonde tried to be stern but she only let out a broken moan as Mildred leaned more over the seat and began to kiss a trail up her shoulder up towards her neck while you decide to sneak your hands into her panties and rub at her now wet clit.

"Fuck!" Gwendolyn hissed out under her breath, her grip on the steering wheel tightening until her knuckles turned white when you slipped a finger between her slick folds.

A low register chuckle fell from Mildred's lips at this, taking great pleasure in hearing the blonde woman getting so worked up by the touch of you and her.

"What the matter? Can't handle a little teasing Gwen?" She husked into the older woman's ear, dark lust filled eyes trailing over the goosebumps appearing on the other woman's skin.

You chuckled too, sharing another look with the red haired nurse before you lower yourself and leaned over to Gwendolyn's lap, pulling her panties down her legs, forehead leaning against her upper leg as you inhaled and then exhaled a warm breath against her upper leg right where her center begin making the woman glare down at you.

"Don't you dare do that now while I'm driv-" the blonde tried to warn sternly but was cut of by whimpering when you licked her clit teasingly, a finger gingerly rubbing between her soaked folds as you looked up at her with a smug smirk.

"Holy shit. Just don't hunt me if we crash." Gwendolyn's glared daggers but couldn't help but take joy in your and Mildred's minestrations, leaning her head back against the Mildred's as the red haired woman kiss up against her neck once again while you slip a finger inside of her.

All she knew was that she can't wait to get back to your shared home and get the two of you back for this teasing.

-End or to be continued(if enough people desire a smutty threesome part)😏

Hey ya'll, I'm not making the readers father a homophobic in this part but my father and whole family is homophobic in real life so pretty much I just want to write one that Isn't. Sorry for this shitty part but honestly I'm not good at writing. Lol I didn't exactly plan on making this part as smut teasing as this but eh shit happens and I couldn't control myself. Eh and let's pretend reader and Gwendolyn owns a house where they go to.

[memesiders]

Ghost AU Part 2 :)

(This was the last part I had saved so figured I'd post it :) Will be working on Part 3 soon!)

Hazel eyes stared back at Mel as she studied herself in the bathroom mirror, setting down the eye liner and studying her work. The dark circles under her eyes refused to go away, no matter how much high coverage concealer she packed on. Her normally rich olive skin was so pale she almost looked like a ghost herself. "You look miserable," she sighed to her reflection, smoothing some highlighter onto her cheekbones and up her temple. She reached into her makeup bag and pulled out a dark wine colored liquid lipstick, carefully running it over her lips. Not sure this helps make me look more alive, but oh well, she thought, looking over herself once she was finished. Another loud sigh left her lips and she pushed away from the counter, bundling her vibrant hair into a messy bun, shorter strands escaping the hair tie and framing her face.

The hairs on the back of her neck immediately stood on end, a primal emotion washing over her that made her heart beat faster.

"Fury," she said softly, eyes darting around the small room. Something pink flashed in her peripheral vision and she spun on her heels, grabbing onto the doorway to steady herself. "I... I'm sorry about last night. You didn't even do anything and I yelled at you. But..." She took a deep breath, her shoulders slumping.

"When you get like that around Lawson, I... You can't be like that around my baby brother." The phantom took form then, standing only a few inches away from the girl. Jaw clenched and arms crossed, the woman studied Mel.

"I know not to harm the brat; you know this by now," she replied, but her words fell on deaf ears. "You've made it more than clear he's completely off limits. Besides, I'd like to stay far away from that creature..." Fury uncrossed her arms, reaching out a tentative hand. Her fingers curled around a few of the bright loose stands, wrapping them around her finger before giving them a quick tug. "You're the worst creature of all." Mel smiled at this action and Fury couldn't help but give a small smirk.

She and the child had almost never gotten along, but the mortal had still managed to wiggle herself into Fury's small, cold heart; not that she'd ever admit it.

"Melinoe," her mother called. "Come eat, your bus is almost here!"

"Coming!" Mel shouted back, flipping the bathroom light off. "Alright, let's behave today, agreed?" Fury scoffed, stepping aside as the girl dashed down the hall.

"I'm always behaved, when it matters."

Mel hurried into the kitchen, throwing herself into the empty seat at the table that waited for her. She quickly tore into her breakfast, shoving a giant forkful of egg, cheese, and tomatoes into her mouth. "Easy, killer," her dad chuckled, looking up from the folder spread open in front of him. "Don't want you to choke."

"It's moms Huevos Rancheros; I literally cannot control myself," she shot back, following it up with another big bite from her breakfast. Her father laughed, reaching over and messing with her bun.

"Well try and show at least a little restraint, alright kiddo?"

"No promises!" They both chuckled and continued on with their morning, nearly oblivious to the beings that entered the room.

"Ooh, Huevos Rancheros," Strife groaned, staring at the dish longingly. "I can see it, I can smell it, but damn do I want to taste it; just once!"

"Maybe if we were corporeal," War grumbled. "I'd love to be able to feel my sword sink into the gnarled body of a demon just once more, feel my blade pierce its putrid heart." Strife looked at his brother, cocking his head slightly.

"Riiiiight... I mean, that sounds fun too." War sighed and reached out, grabbing one of the dining chairs. With a gentle tug the chair was sent flying across the kitchen, crashing into the wall. Mel's mother shrieked in surprise, a hand flying over her chest as she attempted to calm herself down. Mel choked on her food and quickly glanced from the broken chair to her mother and back again.

"It's an accident," she rushed out, her pulse jumping slightly. "It's War; he just doesn't know his own strength! I- I'll work on it with him-"

"You shouldn't have to work on anything!" her mom snapped, quickly clamping her lips together. The woman closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath. Mel looked down at her half eaten plate of food, picking at the remaining eggs. "I'm sorry, sweetie." Her mother was calmer now, and had regained some of the color she'd lost. "You should probably get ready to meet the bus." Mel nodded quickly and pushed her plate away taking a last gulp of orange juice before standing.

"It wasn't her fault," War grumbled his hands balling into fists. "Why must they treat her this way?" The air in the room swirled, the kitchen cabinets fluttering open and closed. The adults in the room quickly looked at each other with wide eyes, fear palpable in them.

"War," Mel said, spinning on her heels. "Please, stop." The ghost seemed to ignore her, the rattling only getting worse.

"Brother, stop," Strife ordered, his usual cheerful tone now completely stripped of humor. "This won't help her."

"They've upset her!" War exclaimed, one of the cabinets slamming closed. Everyone jumped and Mel gulped, her heart beating faster.

"War, please, stop! We- We have to get to school!"

"You'll only further upset her if you don't cut it out," Strife warned. "Look at her; does she look okay with this?" War glanced over at his human, studying her. The worry etched on her face, her small frame trembling, the shine in her eyes as tears began to build; and just like that, all was calm in the home. War sagged forward, grimacing.

"Thank you," she breathed, a sense of relief washing over her.

"Go," her mother said suddenly. Mel looked at her mom.

"I'm so-"

"Please, just take your brother and go." Her mom turned away from her then, gripping the counter to keep steady. "Have a good day at school." Mel furiously blinked back tears, grabbing her brothers hand and leading him to the door. The two backpacks next to the door levitated off of the ground and Mel swiped them up quickly, noting the faint smell of gunpowder.

"Thanks, Strife." The siblings stepped out into the crisp autumn air, the cold biting into her nose and cheeks.

"Are you okay, Meli?" Lawson asked, looking up at her curiously. Mel dabbed at her eyes and forced a smile, nodding.

"Yeah, I'm fine! It's just my allergies acting up." She tried to sound as cheerful as possible but the look on her little brothers face told her that she wasn't doing a good job of it.

"Is mommy mad at you?"

"No, she's not. She just doesn't want us to miss the bus." As they reached the end of the gravel driveway, a loud engine roar shattered the silence, a large yellow school bus turning down their street. "See? We would've been late!" Law smiled and wrapped his little arms around her side, squeezing tightly. She smiled and smoothed down his messy hair.

She looked up and spotted a familiar black blob sitting on the power lines across the street. The crow had been around for as long as she could remember, seeming to follow wherever she went. She'd offered the bird a few shiny bits and baubles and though it seemed grateful for the gifts, it would never get to close or allow her to pet it.

Death sighed from beside the two humans, staring longingly at the crow across from them. "Dust, you fool. Why do you continue to stick around? There's nothing left for you here." The animal cawed loudly in reply, attempting to tell him off, and the reaper chuckled. He missed the bird, not that he'd ever admit it; missed stroking his midnight feathers, the feeling of his talons sinking into Death's shoulder when the creature was too tired to carry on flying or felt lazy, missed the occasional peck or two; he missed everything.

"That thing's still around," Fury asked, moving to stand next to him. "How long has it been now?"

"Fourteen years since he tracked us down."

"And he still hasn't left; you two must've been great friends." Death hummed in reply, his gaze torn from the bird as the school bus pulled up. The door hissed and opened, the children quickly climbing on. Fury groaned quietly, following the humans onto the bus. Her lip curled immediately as she studied the scene before her, her hands rising to rest on her hips. The children on the bus were loud, wild, and disgusting, nothing unusual; still, it never ceased to amaze her just how annoying human offspring were.

"Just five minutes with these brats and they'd reconsider raising their voices above a whisper," she grumbled.

"You'd also scar them for the rest of their lives," Strife chuckled, popping into the bus. War followed close behind, barely hopping on before the vehicle pulled forward, leaving the house behind them.

"At least they'd be behaved." One particular child shrieked just then and Fury snarled, grabbing one of the girls pigtails and yanking it hard. The girl nearly flew from her seat. "Shut up!"

"Fury," Death warned. The girl pulled herself back up, her eyes wide with fear. She clutched the pigtail to the side of her head and quickly looked around, searching for the culprit.

"What?"

"Can we not go one day without you harming an unsuspecting child?"

"Can I not go one day without the incessant prattling of prepubescent children?"

"Someone get this girl a Snickers," Strife muttered, jokingly elbowing War's side. Fury cut her gaze to him, reaching for her whip, when she remembered it wasn't there. It was with her body at... She frowned to herself; where was her body? She still couldn't remember. None of them remembered how or where they died. The only thing she could remember was waking up tethered to an infant. Her eyes drifted to the teenager in the back, oblivious to the ghost that was watching her. Sixteen long years with no knowledge of how she and her brothers had perished. It irked her every single day, and she would never be able to get answers; not while she was attached to Melinoe.

"Fury," War said cautiously, careful to not provoke his temperamental sister. Fury hissed softly, turning her attention back to her siblings. Without saying anything, she disappeared from view, leaving only a wisp of pink smoke in her wake. The others exchanged glances but said nothing; their sister would calm down eventually. Hopefully she wouldn't cause any harm before then.

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

Mamihlapinatapai Or The Season Of Longing

A/n: Here is another fic. Since it's been raining like crazy and I have spent way too much time indoors because of the weather, I decided to write this. The poem featured in this fic is called Lluvia by Jorge Luis Borges. I finally figured out how to put things under the cut so that my followers don't have to scroll through a large post 😅 It's another piece set before Doofus Rick and the reader were dating. Feel free to check out the other fics in my Masterpost.

In this fic the reader isn't the only one longing

___________

Imagine that instead of a blue sky, there was an off white, almost grey sky, and what should've been wispy white clouds were blankets of rumbling thunderstorms without a drop of rain; that was how you thought you might've felt. There was a name to this feeling, but you weren't sure what to call it; as though you were missing something you couldn't place; not sadness or grief, but whatever came in between. No, nothing bad had happened, and there hadn't been any disagreements between you and Rick, but something did occur which fed this alien feeling. It seemed that only a few days ago you were alright, but then you invited him over and he had a chance to look over those books you had mentioned. That day he had returned home from work and came over right after; offering his best of smiles and a piece of candy from his labcoat pocket as soon as he crossed the threshold of your doorway; it was nothing out of the ordinary, but it was charming all the same.

With swiftness, you had led him to your hallway closet so that you could bring down the box of books sitting on the upper shelf; that was where you kept a great portion of your father's old books. Father had been a fan of languages and botany, but ventured into the bizarre mystery from time to time; being a master of neither, you had hidden them away for a later date; mostly because the memories were more disheartening then they space they took up. With all your might, you stood on the tips of your toes in a vain attempt to reach, but your fingers barely brushed the edge of it; you should’ve just used the step ladder. It was Rick's small huff of effort which alerted you to his nearness as he unexpectedly stretched up and grabbed said box when you had a little trouble. Goodnaturedly, he carried it towards the kitchen while you took a moment to calm your girlish heart.

Coaxed away from your thoughts by the dusty cardboard and the delighted guest, you nodded lightly to give him the go-ahead to help himself. His gentle presence made him a joy to study; not in the way he examined things in the world or of the world, but in the way one does when fascinated by a butterfly or a fresh bloom hidden in an otherwise barren bush; he was a miracle. With care he pulled out one book after another, glancing through their pages and making piles for which one's he'd like to borrow. In a way he seemed to belong to this house; as though what wasn't found within pages of novels could be sought, and felt beyond reason; flowing calmly and relished in these favorable moments. Although it wasn't much, and that borrowing books could be of little consequence except to the reader itself, you hated to see him go.

Now thinking of it days later, you found yourself wondering about its significance as well as a plethora of other things as you walked to the store and back. You hadn't needed anything in particular, but you felt slightly better being outdoors; the fresh air allowed you to believe you could think better. The sounds of light traffic and grass being cut somewhere along in the neighborhood felt timeless as you walked around the corner, almost home. The wind blew, rustling your clothes and you narrowly lost the receipt that hung out of your pocket, but that didn’t bother you.

Rain clouds were rolling in from the west and you hoped it wouldn't rain before you reached home. And the closer you got, the more you could see the familiar house of your lovable neighbor. A smile couldn't help but stretch across your face at the thought and you hoped he was home so that you could ask if he'd had a chance to look those books over but that alien feeling bloomed again; the sinking, drowning, heavy feeling. How you wanted to be with him despite what reason thought was logical. The dance of your heart would've loved nothing more than to place a dozen or more kisses upon his smile lines while he stammered into the next week. Oh, your foolish heart had taken on a personification of its own these days; speaking and thinking of itself and it's wants like a second brain; draining you whenever it appeared.

Yet, before you knew it you had reached home and dropped off what you had bought before stepping out again. From your front yard, you could see that he was in the garage and you questioned whether you should go over and attempt to alleviate this feeling; it’d vanish whenever you were with him. You must’ve stood there thinking for a while as to what ought to be done for the pitter-patter of rain broke this trance-like state and you ran back towards your front porch. How silly you have become as of late with this strange crush of yours. Weren’t you past these sort of schoolgirl feelings? Perhaps, but it was more than that.

You sunk into your wicker bench and listened to the sound of the rain as it hit the roof and walkway. The earthy scent of the lawn and the splash of puddles as cars drove by was a welcomed distraction. A nap didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Yet, gentle footsteps and the sound of a closed umbrella woke another sort of feeling within you; that of hope.

“Golly, it - it sure is raining cats and dogs t-today.” he commented.

The words were out of your mouth as soon as you were aware of him; of this creature who walked out of a daydream. “I didn’t think I’d get to see you.”

“Huh? Are you alright? Did s-something happen?”

“I'm fine,” you answered; all at once conscious of him and your surroundings. “it’s just...I thought about coming over to ask if you checked out any of the books but it started to rain.”

“Th-that's part of the reason I'm here,” he confessed. “I-I had noticed you went out for a-a walk and wanted to make sure you had come home safely.”

“As you can see, I made it back in one piece. Although, I did get my hair wet. Though, that's the least of my problems.”

“Do you mind if I-I-I take a seat?”

Patting the space beside you, you nodded. “Not at all.”

He set his umbrella to the side before he seated himself and turned towards you. His warmth radiated from him and being as tall as he was, the bench might’ve been too low to the ground since his legs seemed to stick out too much, but he made no complaint. From his inner labcoat pocket, he pulled out a small book. “I thought y-y-you might enjoy this.”

“A book?”

Handing it to you, he commented. “I thought y-you might enjoy this collection of poems. I um - I bookmarked my favorites but I'd like t-t-to know what your thoughts about them would be.”

You knew this whimsical creature was well-read in many respects, but you hadn’t given much thought to the possibility of including works of a more abstract nature. “Sure, that sounds lovely. Though, I hope you don't mind me asking. Do you read works like this often? It's not because I find it strange. Honestly, I find it fascinating and wonderful that you would even consider it, but I ask because I thought….well, I thought you only read serious works related to your work.”

Scratching the back of his neck, he explained. “I read whenever I-I-I find the time and it uh - it usually doesn’t matter what the subject may be. In the pursuit of knowledge, one reads everything. For example, th-the terms and conditions for some computer programs or limited warranties at times list amusing reasons why y-you might be able to get a replacement for a damaged product. It keeps things interesting.”

“I see. It certainly makes sense.”

With a smile, he sighed with contentment as he looked towards the street. “Boy, th-this weather reminds me of a certain poem. It's called um - it's called Lluvia. That's the Spanish word for rain.”

“That's right,” you remembered; his last name should’ve been a reminder enough. “you can speak Spanish. I forget sometimes since you only talk to me in English. So, tell me, how does this poem go?”

“Please forgive me since my Spanish is a-a little rusty.”

Taking a deep breath, he recited calmly. “Bruscamente l-la tarde se ha aclarado, porque y-ya cae la lluvia minuciosa. Cae o cayó. La lluvia es una c-cosa qué sin duda sucede en el pasado. Quien la oye caer ha recobrado, el t-tiempo en que la suerte venturosa. Le r-r-reveló una flor llamada rosa y el curioso color del c-colorado. Esta lluvia que ciega los cristales, alegrará en p-p-perdidos arrabales. Las negras uvas de una parra en cierto. Patio que ya no existe. La mojada, t-tarde me trae la voz, la voz deseada, de mi padre que vuelve y que no ha muerto.”

You stared at this man, amazed by his fluency and ability to fascinate you with the simplest things. Yet again, a reason to be marveled by him. “Whoa, I don't know what you said, but it sounded beautiful when you said it.”

Turning towards you, his smile seemed brighter than usual albeit a bit sheepish. "It's n-nothing special."

"But it is, especially since you can think and speak in more than one language. I can't do that."

"I-I can teach you if you'd like."

"No, that's okay. You're busy enough as it is, but I appreciate the thought. You really are so incredibly smart."

"And you…eres maravillosa."

"What?”

His smile faltered a bit, and he thought to himself for a bit on what he was about to say before his smile returned; albeit more gently. “Eres amable y-y dulce. No soy digno de una amiga como tu.”

“Rick,” you started; confused as to why there seemed to be some sort of admission that you weren’t able to understand. “all the poetic talk is lovely, but I don't think it's fair if you reply in a way I can't understand."

"Si pudieras entenderme," he sighed, wringing his hands in the nervous way he did. "me pregunto qué creerías si te expresara cuánto me preocupo por ti."

Raising from the bench, he said to himself. "Si puedo llegar a la luna, algun dia podria...¿Q-que estoy haciendo?"

"Rick?"

“I’m o-okay. I uh - I zoned out there for a second. I’m sorry.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

He studied you for a moment longer; a world of words unsaid in his melancholic glances. Was something secretly hurting him like it was hurting you? You could only wonder as thoughts were drowned out by the sound of the rain.

———————————-

It was warm and comfortable with him sitting beside you. His presence always provided a sense of calm that was softer and sweeter than that of the sedatives that eased your anxiety. Why you could fall asleep right here if it weren’t for that fact that you’d be mortified if you allowed it to happen.

“Are you a-a big fan of the rain?” he wondered.

This question had come after a half-hour of companionable silence. “Hmm, it’s not the rain so much as the memories that accompany it.”

“Do y-you want to talk about it?”

“Only if you don’t mind hearing it.”

“I-I don’t mind.” He reassured you.

“Well,” you started. “my dad enjoyed rainy days since he said the plants almost seemed to smile when rainwater hit their leaves.”

“Th-that’s a nice thought.“

“Yeah, I thought so too. When it rains like this, and I’m watching it fall,” you softened; feeling lighter because you had someone to share your thoughts with. “it feels like I’m looking through a curtain. It’s not completely see-through, but the shapes I can see appear softer and more mysterious like how you must’ve appeared when you showed up. Too bad I wasn’t paying attention.”

Oh, you did not just say that out loud. “Or something like that.” You added.

If he had noticed you had tripped over your words then he gave no indication of it. “Gosh, I-I never thought of it that way b-before. I usually see it as part of the pr-precipitation cycle and it smells nice, doesn't it?”

“It does. I wouldn’t mind bottling up this scent, but then it might lose what makes it special.”

Yet, if you could bottle up his scent, it would’ve been nice to keep nearby just in case you wanted a little piece of him.

“That um - that reminds me,” he brightened. “I had baked some mandarin scones before walking over tonight, and I-I-I thought you’d like t-t-t-t-to try them but I didn’t want to risk them getting wet. I-I thought we could share some over tea tomorrow if that’s alright with you.”

Tea time with Rick was like what others did over rounds of drinks; it was to unwind and talk about the day; minus the drunkenness and the unforeseen embarrassment. “Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”

“Gee, I um - I was supposed to, but there was a shift change. Actually, I have a shift t-t-tonight in a-about an hour, but I had wanted to make sure you were alright before I left.”

“Why?”

“Because I-I thought you were going t-to walk over.”

So he had thought the same thing. “Oh, well like I said earlier I had planned to or thought to, but the weather put a damper on things.”

“Yeah.”

“Though, isn’t it funny that we both had the same thought?”

He smiled at that. “It's because gr-great minds think alike.”

What right did he have to be this adorable you thought. All you could do was smile up at him and fight the urge to run your fingers through what appeared to be soft hair; as odd as you had initially thought his haircut was when you met him, you couldn’t imagine him any other way. Still, drawn to his bright, kind eyes, you wondered if you were being attracted by some invisible force to test the limits of this friendship, and yet you knew well enough that now wasn’t the time. Following a slow blink of his, you mentioned without looking away. “Now that we have gotten to see each other, it's probably time to let you go. I wouldn’t want you to be late for work.”

“Y-you’re right.” he straightened; jumping up on his feet with much more agility then seemed possible for someone so mature. “Until next time.”

There he was leaving again when you didn’t want him to. Still, you had no right or claim to him. At least, not yet. “See you tomorrow.”

Grabbing his umbrella, he motioned to open it but paused, and slowly, but surely turned back; his smile almost boyish. “Gosh, I-I will see you tomorrow, right?”

Clutching the book of poems to your breast, you giggled. “Whichever way it may be, we will. I promise.”

Fin

[kellyashcroft]

It’s You C.7 - Why Does It Hurt?

Summary:  I’m Embry and I don’t think much of this whole soulmate business. What are the chances that in a sea of 7 billion people you’ll just find your soulmate? What’s the point in wasting your time with relationships with people that aren’t your soulmate? On the off chance that one or both of you do meet the one you’re destined for, it’s just gonna cause unnecessary pain but what’s the alternative? Stay alone forever waiting for someone that might never show up? I’m 26 and I still don’t have my mark and I’m tired of waiting.

Word Count: 3900

Warnings: Angst, mentions of parental death, mentions of physical pain, mentions of torture, fluff

A/N: Sorry it’s late, it’s been a busy week! This is the longest chapter yet, I’ve combined two chapters because the next one was really short but the next update will still be on Monday. Please let me know what you think and I will list the masterlink below for you! Thank you fpr reading, I hope you enjoy it! 

Series Masterlink

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Will wakes up not much longer after me and as I keep my eyes on the television, I feel his head shift down to look at me.

"Sorry, I fell asleep" he mumbles and I move my head to meet his eyes, still being held in his arms. 

"It's okay, so did I, I've only been awake maybe, ten minutes, I didn't want to wake you"

"I should go" he says as he moves to get up off the couch. He plants his feet on the ground as he stands up and brushes his hand through his hair as I turn my body to sit upright on the couch, wishing it was still two minutes ago rather than this awkward, weirdness.  “I don’t mean, I don’t want to- - I mean” he stutters as he scratches the back of his neck and I squint my eyes at him, “it’s late and I can’t stay the night, I’ve got no clean clothes here or anything”

"No, I get it" I answer quickly, realising that I did actually want him to stay and a silence falls over the two of us again as we both look anywhere but at each other.

"I'll just, get" he points behind his head, "get my coat then" he says quietly as I look back at him as his voice grabs my attention. 

"Okay, I'll walk you out" I say back as I get up and walk him towards the front door.

He hesitates just outside the door frame as he turns back to me and I lean slightly on the door.

"Embry" he starts, "do you? I mean, um, I" his nervous energy makes me stand up straighter, my heart racing in my chest. He lets out a breathy chuckle as he rubs the back of his neck with his hand again; I guess he does that a lot when he's nervous. "I had a really nice time tonight, thank you" he smiles up at me once he's decided on his words.

"I had a really nice time too, we should do it again sometime" his smile only grows wider at my words and a second later he leans in and places a quick, unsure kiss on my cheek and I feel my face blush.

"See you tomorrow" he says quickly as he turns to go to his car, looking back towards me as he gets into the driver’s seat and I offer a small wave and then he's gone.

I go back into my house, making sure to lock the door and find my phone, already having received a text from Will.

   ⁃    I really had an amazing time with you. Sorry I fell asleep. I really hope we can do it again, maybe next time I can cook for you? Good night, Em. 

I can't help but smile and notice the nickname he's given me and I realise no one else has ever shortened my name. It seems weird to think about because it seems so obvious, but no one ever has and I like the thought that maybe he will be the only one to ever call me it. I quickly text back.

   ⁃    I had a great time too. It's okay, you look cute when you sleep. I'd love that. Goodnight.

I walk up the stairs into my bedroom, put on my favourite pyjamas again, now that they're washed, and slip into bed, hoping for a peaceful night’s sleep, but that's not what I get. 

-

"You really just can't stay out of the way can you?" I hear a woman's voice say in an angry tone as I feel something being dragged from my face and I take a deep breath. "Always in the way!" 

The woman grabs my left arm and picks up a metal device as she places it over the mark on my wrist and I let out a scream in pain. 

"It'll stop hurting soon, we've done this before, stop fidgeting" she scolds and my blood turns cold at the pain and fear I'm feeling.

"What did you do with him?" I whisper through the pain. "Where is he?"

"Oh he's fine, don't worry, you won't remember him soon enough anyway" she says. What does she mean, I won't remember him? 

The woman keeps the device pressed against my skin for what feels like forever and the pain increases and decreases in intensity over time. I hear my own screams and whimpers and I try to fight her off as she has more straps added to restrain me. 

Eventually she stops and the pain subsides a little as she removes the device. I manage a glance down at my mark through my hooded and watery eyes, exhausted from the torture I've just endured and notice that the mark on my wrist is lighter, less prominent.

-

BEEP BEEP BEEP!

I jolt awake, yet again, to the sound of my alarm blaring and slowly I reach over to hit the snooze button, hoping for just five more minutes; enough time to collect my thoughts, before I get up out of bed, and start my usual routine of brushing my teeth, washing my body, putting on make up and getting dressed. 

I decide again to drive to work today, feeling too tired to walk, as much as I miss my near the beach walks home and as I stop at some traffic lights I remember being here and my wrist hurting. I realise it was him I saw, Will. He was the guy walking across the street. I remember the same dark brown hair, the same smile, the dimple. He was the guy who's hand I shook and felt the same pain again. But the mark isn't supposed to hurt. I've never heard anyone ever say it hurt them to get their mark, so why did mine hurt?

I'm pulled from my thoughts yet again as the lights change and I continue my drive to work but I can't seem to shake the feeling that something's wrong. Surely there must be a reason that ours was so different? I make a mental note to go to Clive's after work and ask him if he knows anything about it. He knows an awful lot more about them than me, he practically wrote a thesis on them at one point, maybe he can help. 

As I pull into the car park at the school, I see Will walking across a few metres from me and he raises his hand in a wave as he catches my eye and I think about how used I'm getting to seeing my mark on his wrist, and his on mine. 

"Hey" he says as our paths cross near the doors of the school and we smile at each other. 

"Hey, you okay?" I start as he shakes a plastic cup at me containing my favourite mocha, passing one to me and keeping one for himself. “Thank you”

"No problem.” He pauses as he smiles at me. After a few seconds he shakes his head as he looks down to the floor and continues, “Yeah, didn't sleep the best though, you?"

"Me either actually, I had the weirdest dream" as I'm about to start to tell him about it, the bell rings for the first class of the day and I feel like I've lost time, not a lot, only about ten minutes or so, but like as if somehow, the day is passing by earlier than it should. I was sure we had longer to talk.  

"So today, class, we're gonna have a study session, so if everyone could take their notepads and textbooks out, I want you to all read through your evolutionary perspectives of eating behaviour essays and write notes on your essay. Try and shorten it into key points and then that into bullet points until you'll be able to know your paragraph from a few key words. If you need any help, just ask, otherwise, you can work in small groups" I finish as a few tables scrape across the floor, kids moving closer to their friends as a quiet muttering overtakes the room and I sit in my chair behind the desk. 

My mind falls back to the dream I had last night and I can't help but feel like there's more to it, like it's not just a dream and like I'm missing some of the information. I start to look at my mark and notice that it's full in colour, unlike my dream, but as I stare at it, it starts to itch again and I get a sharp pain in my head as a flood of words enter my brain. They're all fumbling over each other too fast for me to hear most of them, the only ones I make out don't make any sense to me and I hold the side of my head as I scrunch my eyes, opening my mouth in a silent scream and hope the pain will subside quickly.

"Embry?" I hear and just as quickly the pain started, it goes and I look up to find Will, his hands on my forearms, his body twisted as he tells the class to pack up their stuff and that they're dismissed for the day. As the class empties he turns back to me with concern in his eyes, "are you okay? I walked past and you looked like you were in agony. What happened?"

"I, I don't know, my head just started hurting. I couldn't make much of it out"

"Make what out?"

"The words" I answer, "my head was flooded with words, I could only make a little bit out through the jumble: lost, taken, soulmate and you, but it doesn't make any sense, I don't know what happened". He sighed in response as he moved one of his hands behind my head and pulled me into his chest and held me.

We stay like that for what feels like forever, one hand never moving from the back of my head while the other dances up and down my back, trailing small shapes over my green dress. 

After a couple of minutes he pulls back from me and wipes the remaining tears that have fell from my eyes off my face. “I’m gonna go and get you some water okay? Don’t go anywhere”

I nod as he hesitantly stands up and leaves the room, coming back only a minute later with a bottle of water. “I haven’t drank any of it, you need to have a drink okay? It’ll make you feel a bit better”. He says as he crouches down in front of me again, one hand finding its way back to resting on my forearm.

“Thank you” I whisper as I take a big gulp of water and he continues to look at me with worry in his eyes. “I’ll be okay, I just haven’t been sleeping very well” I say through a still croaky voice and he gives me a small smile in response.

“Just, relax for a little bit” he advises as he moves in slightly closer to me, “you’ve got like twenty minutes until the next class, will you be okay?”

“I’m good, honestly” I answer too fast, “you can go, but thank you”.

We share a tentative smile as he stands up and leaves the room, and again, I’m not unaware of his eyes lingering on me as he does so. 

I spend the next twenty minutes trying to breathe through the almost crippling anxiety I keep feeling, devising it’s probably better to just leave the remnants of my coffee rather than adding more caffeine to this situation. I find a small post it note and write down the words I felt drum around in my brain and stare at them, holding for an explanation to drop from the sky when the bell rings again. Too quickly my students pile into the classroom and still not feeling great, I inform them they will be doing the same study exercise as my previous class as I sit back in my chair, tapping my pen against the desk trying to figure out what this could mean. 

Not much longer passes before lunch has come around and before I can even move from behind my desk, Will is at the door waiting for me. 

“I was wondering if maybe you’d want to sit with me at lunch today?” I hear him say.

“We sit together every day?” I question with a squint of my eyes. 

“I guess that’s true” he laughs, “I mean, just me” he says as he slowly moves into the room as I walk around my desk. 

“Are you asking me on a date to the cafeteria William?” I smile as he blushes slightly. 

“No, not a date, I promise” he laughs as he looks back up to me and wipes his hand over his chin. “Just, I’d really like to have a meal with just you again.” 

“I’d love to”. 

Walking down the corridor to the cafeteria, I feel his eyes on me every few seconds and the questions he wants to ask are almost hanging in the air in front of us like a fog. 

“I’m okay” I say as I turn to face him, nodding my head, trying to convince us both. 

“I know” he says too quickly, “I just want you to know that if you’re not, if you need help, me to cover your class, if you need anything, I can feel the anxiety coming off you” his words make me turn my head to look at the floor as I feel him stop next to me and take hold of my wrist, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly against the mark that lives there, “that’s okay too. I’m here”. His final words have me lifting my head to look at him again, a small smile finding its way into my face as he slips his hand down to hold mine and intertwines  our fingers. As I nod my head, he gives my hand a small squeeze before releasing it as we start up our walk to the cafeteria again. 

Sitting down at a table on the far side of the room, we both dig into our meals, mine being chicken pasta and Will’s being bolognese, as we discuss his classes that day. Nothing major happened, like for example, he didn’t freak out all of his students by having an agonising pain in his head and had to have them excused by another staff member, but he did teach one of his classes about an obscure battle that I had never heard of. As the conversation about our classes dwindles down, we both turn to continue our lunches, comfortable in each other’s presence and my anxiety is easing from just being around him. 

“I know you might not want to talk about it but, I meant it, anything you need, ever” he says with a level of sincerity I’m not sure I’ve ever heard before and I know he’s not just talking about today, he really does mean anything and with what time is coming up, I can’t even begin to express how much that means to me. “Chloe mentioned something this morning about this being a tough time of year for you?” He asks innocently and I can’t work out if I’m mad or grateful that my friend started this conversation for me. 

“I don’t really talk about it at work but yeah, um, it’s coming up to the anniversary, of um, my parents death” I almost whisper, being brave enough to continue looking at Will. 

“I’m so sorry” he says quickly, “she didn’t say that- -, you don’t have to-“

“It’s okay, I don’t mind, but like I said I just don’t talk about it at work, sometimes I’m okay but sometimes I cry and I don’t want to cry at work”

“I get it, so do you like baseball?” He changes the subject quickly and I can’t help but laugh. 

The rest of the day goes by without a problem, each class going over the same study exercise based on what topic they’re focusing on currently and I spend my time catching up on grading essays. 

As soon as the final bell rings, I practically run from the school needing to see Clive as soon as possible. As much as sitting with Will at lunch may have eased my anxiety for that time, it came back in floods throughout the second half of the day. 

I walk into Clive's book store, hearing the bell above the door as I open and shut it. I nod in greeting at Clive, still by the counter, where he always seems to be and he nods back.

Knowing that the conversation I want to have with him is probably going to stir up some memories he'd rather forget, I take in a sharp breath as I start to walk over to him and he gives me a quizzical look. He must be wondering why I'm not just walking around the store like I usually do. 

"I need to ask you something, and you might not like it, but it's important, I'll explain as best I can but I wouldn't bring it up if it wasn't really important. Not to you" he gives me a knowing look after taking my words in and gives me a small nod, assuring me that I can ask, but not confirming that he will answer, or even have one in the first place. "Okay, have you ever heard of anyone's mark hurting? Like when they get it? Or even after they've got it? Because the first time I saw Will, it was when he was walking across the road and I was driving and I felt this sharp pain in my wrist; I didn't have my mark then of course and I ignored it, but then later it got itchy and I thought I could see something but I was wrong, although now, I'm not so sure. And then, the first time we touched, after we met, we both got a sharp pain, so bad we had to pull our hands away from each other and then mine was itchy later in the day again, I never asked about his" I'm not sure at what point we moved, but as I continue I realise I'm sitting in my usual spot on the couch at the back of the store, Clive opposite me.

"So then, today all of a sudden, it starts to get really itchy again, but like, painful itchy, like I want to scratch through my skin itchy and then I get this splitting pain in my head and I can't see or hear anything apart from these words going round and round in my head, too many to make out except four. Only four make their way through to me" I tell him the four words I'd told Will about earlier in the day as he leans further towards me, intently listening to everything I'm saying, a look of confusion on his face. "So I think they're connected, I mean, the pain, the itch, and the word soulmate came up, that can't be a coincidence right? So, I mean you know more about it than anyone else I know so have you ever heard of this happening? I mean, is it wrong? Is it trying to fight its way off my body because it's a mistake?" I ask, scared of what the answer could be as he stops me.

"I don't think it's that. The marks are never wrong, ever. He's your soulmate, there's no doubt about that but it hurting?" He turns away from me slightly, looking nowhere in particular as he thinks. "The only times I've ever heard of someone's mark hurting is when someone tried to take it off, they physically tried to tear it from their skin, it didn't work of course, the marks are protected, something in them. And when you spend too long away from your soul mate, mine hurts occasionally when I miss Mary, a few other people who've lost their soul mates or have had to be away from them have said the same thing but it's an ache, not a sharp pain".

He looks back at my disheartened face, disappointed at feeling like I still don't really have any sort of answer. "I see him every day, we talk after work until we go to sleep, he's text me goodnight, every night and neither one of us has tried to get rid of the mark" I trail off, defeated.

"Leave it with me, okay? I'll have a look through my stuff, see if there's anything I can find that might explain it and I'll let you know if I find something but just, try not to worry about it too much, okay kid?" He offers me a small smile as he pats my shoulder and I realise that's the first time since Mary died that I've seen any type of real smile on his face.

"Yeah" I surrender, "thanks Clive, it means a lot, thank you" I add sincerely as I get up to leave the store before quickly turning and adding, "oh I almost forgot, Will asked me to ask you if you could order 1984 for him? You know by George Orwell?" 

"Sure, I'll get on it straight away, I'll make up an invoice when it comes and keep it back for him or if you pick it up, okay?"

"Thanks Clive, for everything" I say as I leave the store and make it to my car.

On the drive home I decide it's been too long since I've walked near the beach and if there was ever a time I needed to be calmed by the ocean, it's probably now when my mind can't seem to stop spinning. I pull up on my driveway, get out of my car, and walk back towards the beach, deciding I'll spend a couple of hours there and maybe watch the sunset before I walk back home. 

Sitting on the beach, this is the calmest I’ve felt since I was laying in Will’s arms. Making that realisation only panics me more, I mean, I’ve only known him a few weeks. How is it that someone I’m still aware I barely know has had such a profound effect on me? I feel like there’s an internal battle inside of me of running away from this and what it means because I can’t help but feel like I’ll be hurt, and another side of me that wants nothing more than to jump in, head first because I know he will never hurt me and I don’t think I’ve ever been so confused in my life. 

Trying to shake all thoughts of Will and the dreams and the mark and my feelings about any of it out of my head, I focus on the sounds of the waves crashing in front of me and the feel of the sand against my bare feet, my shoes being placed carefully in front of me. As I dig my feet further into the sand, I wrap my arms around my knees, bending them up to sit in front of my face and I enjoy the beauty the beach offers. 

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Taglist: @yourideasarepointless​ @stiles-o-dylan24​ @moongoddesskiana​ @wydobrien​ @ashleyjeanthomas​ 

Date posted: 04.08.2020

[imzadi-caskett-huddy]

House, M.D. Fanfic (8/?)

Thank you to everyone who has taken time to leave a note on my story. I hope you continue to enjoy my kind of rewrite and/or additions to certain episodes! As always, I don't own House. If I did, Lisa Edelstein would have gotten the respect she deserved contact wise for a season 8.

As stated in previous chapters, the story follows the big picture laid out on the show, but with my own take on things. This chapter starts with Cuddy's struggle to keep it a secret from House about his previous diagnosis being correct. I should say that I REALLY don't care much for early season 3 Wilson, and I'm going to do my best not to let that affect the storytelling. This chapter is longer... lots of story development to get through.

Thanks to @love-hope-faith-feels-like-a-lie on Tumblr for reading my ideas and providing positive feedback! Anything in the way of feedback is always appreciated! Enjoy!

xxxxx

She was definitely not comfortable lying to House about this. He deserved to know he was right. She didn't know why Wilson suddenly thought he needed to teach House a lesson on humility and make her a party to it. "I have to tell him. I see him every day. I..."

"Everybody lies."

Wilson's words echo through her head that night as her head lay on his shoulder, her fingers tracing lines across his chest. "You were right."

He turned his head slightly to see her better. "I'm right about a lot of things. You're going to have to be a little more specific."

She pushed up slightly on her elbow, the sheet sliding down her chest a bit. "Your patient. In the wheelchair," she started.

He smiled slowly. "You gave him the shot."

She sighed, dropping her head back to his shoulder. "I gave him the shot."

"Why?"

"Because I know you. Because you see things the rest of us don't see. Because as infuriating as it is, you're never wrong about the medicine."

He smiled smugly. "I was right."

"Yes," she sighed, rubbing her face. "You're always right. The man stood up from his wheelchair and hugged his son."

"You weren't going to tell me..."

She looked up at him then. "Wilson thought it was a bad idea..."

"Wilson would think this is a bad idea too. That mean you're going to stop sleeping with me to get pregnant?"

"No, of course not..."

"Then why are you suddenly listening to him?"

She was quiet a moment. "You like the high. The night you showed up outside my window with your diagnosis, you were higher than I've ever seen you on Vicodin. We just worry about you."

"And yet you told me anyway," he pointed out, shifting to get up and grab his boxer briefs. He needed to walk. He needed to think.

She made a grab for his shirt and slipped it on. There was an argument brewing. "You're an addict, House. You're always looking for a fix. If it's not Vicodin, it's a medical mystery that only you can solve. If you don't have the puzzle, you get your high in my bed. Its all just a fix for you."

"That's what you think this is? That's all you think you are? A fix because I don't use Vicodin anymore and you told me no at work?" He spun around to face her. The look in her eyes said it all... she did think that's all she was to him. "I'm going home," he started pulling on his clothes.

"House, that's not what I said..."

"You said enough. I got my 'fix.' Keep the shirt." He headed for the front door.

"House!" She called after him. But it was too late as she heard the front door slam. She sighed and for back into bed. She should have said something. She should have told him him she knew she wasn't just a fix...because she did know. This had been going on for months... it was way past just sleeping together to get a fix or to get pregnant.

Her hand moved over the place he'd occupied in her bed not even ten minutes before. How had this even spiraled out of control that quickly? Sliding closer to his pillow, she inhaled his scent. She could hear his bike engine revving as he tore down the street, and she knew sleep was not going to come easy now in her empty bed.

xxxxx

"How's the leg?" she asked cautiously as she opened his door. She wasn't going to push too much since they were at work, but she was trying to judge his mood. Especially since he hadn't bothered to tell her that his leg was starting to hurt again.

He looked up from his desk and saw her entering his office. "My leg is fine."

"You're limping. Cameron thinks it's because we lied to you. We both know that I already told you, so that's not it. Is it because we had a fight?"

"Your breasts are different," he studied her closely, completely ignoring her attempt to talk about him.

She continued unfazed. "Wilson thinks I haven't told you, and that I'm feeling guilty and want to coddle you."

He shook his head. "You're pregnant."

"I'm not pregnant. How badly does your leg hurt?"

"Your breasts are firmer. As someone who had intimate knowledge with the girls, I would know," he stated. "You're pregnant."

"It's called an underwire. Tell me about your damn leg." She was not going to let him deflect by turning the tables on her.

"My leg is fine."

"Let me do a scan on your brain. If the Ketamine is wearing off..."

"Let me do a pregnancy test." They each wanted to test the other. Fair was fair, after all.

"House, I'm not pregnant!" she dropped her voice at the end, not wanting that word to escape the walls of his office.

"You've been taking fertility drugs. You've been getting laid on a regular basis, without protection. Your breasts have enlarged. You're doing crazy things, because I can't think of any other reason why you would ever listen to Wilson about lying to me. You're pregnant."

"You're not always right, you know."

"Actually I am. You said so yourself. I'm never wrong about the medicine. But you and Wilson would just have me think I'm wrong. You'd rather have me doubt myself and lie to me about it than tell me the truth and prove I'm right," he said lowly, massaging his thigh.

"House, let me look at your leg."

"My leg is fine!" After a moment, he dropped his head slightly. "Don't you think if I thought the treatment wasn't working that I'd do something to try to fix it?"

She sighed softly. "If it gets worse, call me." She knew she wasn't getting anywhere with him then, so pushing further was futile. He was still pissed at her for not telling him he was right. She was pissed at herself for going against her better judgement on this and actually listening to Wilson.

xxxxx

He hated that he'd had to grab his cane. He hated that he had taken the pills. He hated that he was now standing on her front porch, leaning against his cane, knocking on her door.

"Tell me the truth. Are you pregnant?"

She wasn't surprised to see him, not really. Not after the way they left things. She was, however, surprised to see him with his cane. "Why do you keep insisting I'm pregnant?" She moved to let him in.

"Why do you keep insisting you're not?" He studied her. That had, afterall, been the purpose of them sleeping together to begin with. She had been very actively trying to get pregnant. So why was she now suddenly opposed to taking a pregnancy test to try to confirm it when he suspected it?

"You're walking with your cane. That means the Ketamine wore off." Now she was deflecting.

"Or it just means I need my next fix. That's what you and Wilson expect of me anyway, right? No puzzle to take my mind off it. Time to give sex a whirl."

She crossed her arms. "That's why you're here?"

"Why not? You have been so eager to welcome me into your bed. Figure I'll get high on endorphins from mind blowing sex and walk out of here without my cane," he said sarcastically. He caught the hurt look on her face at his comment and looked away.

"Call one of your hookers if you want mind blowing sex. I'm not in the mood," she turned to walk away.

"Hookers can do the distraction. They can't do the mind blowing sex. They don't do what you do..." He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. He'd crossed a line with that last insult, and he knew it. He'd tried to hurt her with it... knew just what button to push to get the desired reaction. "I took the Vicodin. My leg hurts," he admitted quietly.

She took a step closer then, resting a hand on his arm. "We can figure something out."

He shook his head. "Nope. Tried Ketamine. It didn't work. House the cripple is back for good," he told her simply. He'd gotten a beautiful glimpse into a pain free life, had allowed himself to hope, only to have it yanked away. "Probably for the best. I do my best work this way. Less likely to screw up diagnosing patients when I'm in pain. More likely to be an insensitive ass, but less likely to miss something and screw up the medicine."

"House..."

"Are. You. Pregnant?" his voice low, his eyes dark as he closed down any chance of continuing to talk about himself.

"No," she pulled her hand away and crossed her arms once more.

"Take a test?"

"No. It's not time y..."

"Then how do you know?" He interrupted her, moving closer.

"It's too early to..."

"Better to have another go then. Just to make sure it takes," he murmured lowly, pulling her against him in a kiss then. He was ready to lose himself in her and the way she could make him forget everything else.

At first she was going to push him away, but after a moment, her body melted against his, not bothering to stop him as he pushed her shirt up and over her head. He was in pain. He needed the distraction. Maybe she did too. Maybe she needed the high of sex with him even more than he did. Biting his lower lip as she deepened the kiss, she shoved him back against the wall hard.

He growled when his back hit the wall, his eyes darkening with lust, fingers digging into her skin as he pulled her roughly against him. His mouth moved to her neck, biting her pulse point hard and causing her to hiss, before soothing the spot with his tongue. She'd have to cover that with makeup tomorrow.

Her hands started pulling at his clothes as they worked their way to her bedroom. He closed the door with her body, pushing her back against it as his hands slid to her thighs and lifted her up, using the door to support the added weight so it didn't mess with his leg.

xxxxx

They finally both fell into her bed, breathless and in better moods. "Does that count as makeup sex? Or is that still angry sex?" He asked a moment later.

She lifted her head and couldn't help but smile slightly. "Shut up, House."

"I just need to know if I'm going to be expected to go another round for makeup sex, or if that was already covered..."

She grabbed her pillow from where it had landed on the floor earlier and smacked him lightly with it before shifting to get more comfortable in bed. "Shut up, House." But she did giggle softly to take the bite out of her words. She wasn't mad anymore. He didn't seem to be either. "Go to sleep."

[brokemultidotexe]

Carry You Home Pt.1 | JJK [M]

↬ Pairing: Jungkook x OC [Dami]

↬ Summary: When Jungkook took a job in Syria to be a diplomat’s detail, he didn't expect to be assigned to her daughter, and he didn't expect to get along with her daughter so well. During an outing, Dami is taken and Jungkook doesn't know why or by who. Jungkook knows time is of the essence so he enlists the help of some friends with the right type of skills and does anything and everything he can to bring her home because it's no longer about his job...it's personal.

↬ Word Count: 3k

↬ Warning/Rating: None/M

↬ Genre: Action/Angst

↬ Part: 1 | 2

Jungkook flashed his badge to the guards at the gate while sitting in the black SUV he had been assigned while working at the Korean embassy. He didn't get it because it stuck out like a sore thumb and was too flashy to blend in, plus being in a place with mountains of sand made it impossible to keep clean. Not that it mattered, it wasn't his vehicle.

"You're clear." the guard in military fatigues handed him back his badge and waved him through the gate. The nice regal looking house stood before him as he pulled the car up to the front so the passenger side faced the door.

Jungkook stepped out slipping his shades on. He had truly come to hate sand. It got everywhere and when it would get windy or when sandstorms would hit, it was impossible to get clean. Being military detail for the Korean ambassador in Syria hadn't been his first choice, but with his mom, in need of money for her treatments there wasn't much option. Syria offered the most money for the least amount of time. No one stayed long and the risk factor was pretty high with things only getting worse as time went on. But he needed the money and luckily the family he was assigned to wasn't awful.

He walked inside the house and took his sunglasses off and slid them on the neck of his shirt. He nodded at the security detail that was on their way back outside, completely drenched in sweat. He definitely didn't envy them. He walked towards his first stop, which happened to be something he always looked forward to. He knocked on the door frame and peered in.

"Jungkook! I didn't know you were working today." he waved him inside with a warm smile.

Jungkook felt himself smile back, "Morning Mr. Yeo, I was requested by your wife. Apparently, Dami wants to go into town today and she asked if I would take her instead of the detail on duty."

He nodded, "Yes, Yeo-ah has been more worried lately. Of course, she can't tell us why, but she has tried limiting the time we're away from the house. Which of course Dami is giving her hell about."

"I would expect nothing less," Jungkook smirked.

"Yeah, I guess you wouldn't." He laughed.

"I'm going to head upstairs and save your wife the torment. When I get back, I'd like to talk to you about the book you lent me." Jungkook stated and Mr. Yeo beamed.

"Yes, of course!" Jungkook nodded and left the office. There were positives to the Yeo family, one being that Yeo Dongsoo happened to be a university professor of history and ethics. He worked remotely and mostly did online classes so he could be with his wife Minseo. Then there was their daughter Dami. Both of them had a rough start and constantly butted heads but within a few months, they started to consider each other as friends. So, it made working long hours a little more tolerable.

He made his way up the stairs and heard the godawful bubblegum k-pop music Dami listened to. He poked his head in and saw her drawing in the sketch pad he had bought her for her birthday last month. He walked in and turned the stereo off.

"Hey!" he watched her head pop up and minor annoyance graced her features.

"I'm doing you a favor in saving your ears from that god-awful racket." he walked over to her desk and sat down in the chair facing her, "I really need to get you into real music. American classic rock will speak to your soul Dami, I promise you."

"No thanks, I'll stick to my shitty pop music."

"Well in the car, I'm manning the radio. Last time will be the one and only time you touch the stereo in my car ever again."

Her face lit up, "Mom's letting me leave?"

"Looks that way, so get your shit and let's go." She scrambled from the bed and started searching for her shoes, "Where are you wanting to go?"

She smiled at Jungkook, "Jason wanted to meet for lunch in town."

He tried to hide his grimace. Jason was an American politician’s son and Dami and him had met at one of those fancy dinners for diplomacy and all of that. Jungkook couldn't stand Jason, everything about the guy just rubbed him the wrong way. He had tried to talk to Dami about it but it had ended in a fight and since then he kept his mouth shut and just made sure to keep an eye on him. Along with a threat that he would break every bone in Jason's body if he tried to pull anything with Dami. Jason had made the comment that Jungkook was in love with Dami, which was absurd. They were friends and enough of an age gap, that while legal, is only borderline socially acceptable. He also works for her parents and the Korean Government so with that whole list and the fact that they were just friends made his claim baseless. "Ready?" he asked as soon as she had her shoes on.

"Yup!" She smiled and followed him out the door and climbed into the passenger seat of the car. Jungkook pulled out of the gated estate and pulled out onto a paved road and headed into town.

He popped her hand when she tried to reach for the stereo, "Hey I wasn't joking. You lost DJ privileges." She stuck her tongue out at him and he rolled his eyes, "real mature Dami."

It didn't take very long to get into the busy part of town where Dami had chosen to meet up with Jason. Jungkook knew she tried to butter him up by choosing to eat with Jason at his favorite lunch spot. He found a parking space a little further down from the actual restaurant and parked the car. Both of them got out and started the small walk.

"Hey," Dami said softly looking over at him, "I wanted to thank you for taking me. I know Jason isn't your favorite person."

"My opinion doesn't matter. If he makes you happy then I can tolerate him." He gave her a smirk and she rolled her eyes but a smile followed.

Once her eyes fell on Jason, she hurried forward to greet him with a hug. Jason swooped down and gave Dami a passionate kiss before tilting his head back up, "Jungkook." he nodded towards his direction. It put him on high alert because of how territorial Jason was with Dami. He eyed him but nodded back.

"Dami I'm just going to sit over there," He pointed to a few tables down. He would be far enough away to give them privacy but close enough to keep a watchful eye on surroundings. The small restaurant had a patio in the front with tables and umbrellas that gave a brief relief from the beaming sun. He pulled out his phone and decided now would be a good time to write back to some emails from his mother and brother. He never spent too long with his eyes on his screen and always made sure to take a detailed sweep of the surroundings before going back to his phone. It was something had become second nature to him after being in the Special Forces. He made sure he was always aware of his surroundings. Once he was done he slid the phone back into his pocket and watched the two of them.

Jungkook never understood the appeal of Jason. He had to hear about how perfect he was and it irked him because no guy was perfect and they all wanted one thing, no matter what they told you. He had spent enough years in the service to read situations and read people. It was part of his job, a job that he was very good at. He had kept a watchful eye on Jason from the beginning. There was something that never sat right with him. Jason had issues with Jungkook since meeting with him and he never understood why. It had come across as jealousy until recently. He had started to look venomous at Jungkook every time they crossed paths. Jungkook noticed Jason trying to turn conversations to political topics, something he knew Dami detested. It wasn't long before Jungkook also noticed he would talk about Mr. and Mrs. Yeo and attempt to hold conversations that, to Jungkook, seemed like he was trying to fish for any information she was willing to divulge. Which wasn't much.

He was snapped away from his thoughts when he noticed the both of them stand up and Jason throws some money on the table. Jungkook stood up as well and weaved his way through the patio over to them when he noticed they had started to walk away and continued to put more distance between him and the two of them. He tried closing the distance between them but it seemed every person on the sidewalk felt the need to bump into him making getting to her a little harder. Once close enough he put his hand on Dami's shoulder and turning her towards him, "And where do you think you're going?" she knew better than to just take off.

"Jason wanted to show me a hole in the wall shop a few streets over." Dami bit her lip knowing she probably should have told Jason to wait for Jungkook.

"Hey, I've got her. She'll be with me." Jason interrupted grabbing DAMI's hand and pulling her closer to him.

"Not a chance in hell." Jungkook shook his head.

"I'm more than capable of keeping her safe from whatever dangers you Korean’s think is out here." Jason's slightly aggressive tone had Jungkook's training heighten his senses.

"Where she goes, I go," Jungkook said flatly.

"Dude, what is your problem? It's two streets over. She'll be fine." he pushed.

Jungkook felt the anger and annoyance start to bubble up in his chest, "I said no." his voice was low and he made sure to pronounce every single syllable. There was no way in hell Jungkook would let Dami take a walk without him. He knew more about the volatile dangers within their area than Dami did, but he had to keep it that way. He hated keeping information from her, especially when it would stop her from making rash decisions. Secrets were the one thing he hated most about his job.

"Look, you know Jungkook has to come. But he can stay a little further back so we have some privacy. Jason, you knew this was a thing from the beginning." She looked between them.

Jungkook shot her a look. She knew that he wasn't happy with her suggestion but her eyes pleaded with him and he fought within himself. He knew he shouldn't but he also knew she hadn't been out much lately and he didn't want her to feel like she was being smothered. He relented but his senses went on high alert. "I'll be a few paces behind, but that's it." He stared down Jason.

Jason's face was filled with anger and annoyance, but he also seemed panicked. Jason tugged on Dami's hand motioning her to continue walking. He pulled out his phone and was typing quickly his mouth in a straight line. He gently pulled on Dami's arm forcing her to walk faster which caused Jungkook to have to walk at a quicker pace. His eyes were sweeping the surroundings because something didn't feel right and he could feel it deep in his bones. He came to a group of men arguing and tried his best to go around them but each time it was as if he was being held up and lengthening the distance between Jungkook and Dami. His eyes scanned and came to a stop on a van. It was nondescript and he had remembered seeing it parked up the street when they had sat down at the restaurant and had kept an eye on it. He remembered seeing the tape that was around one of the side mirrors and the person in the driver seat had sat in the van but never moved or made any indication he was going to. This had put Jungkook on high alert, and he started watching people as discreetly as he could and hoping he could close the gap between him and Dami.

Jungkook reached behind him where his gun had sat all morning. He carefully turned the safety off just in case things went south and he needed to reach for it quickly. He made sure that the shirt that he wore laid back over it so it was hidden from view. He noticed Jason starting to look around and up and down the street. Jungkook heard the van before he saw it and he started rushing to close the distance between them.

“DAMI!” he yelled.

She turned to look at him while the van came into view and screeched to a halt right beside her. Jungkook broke out into a run and was weaving through people. He drew his gun with it pointed to the ground and watched as if it was in slow motion as the door slid open and someone reached out grabbing her. She fought back and went on the defensive just as Jungkook had taught her. She yelled for Jungkook and he pushed himself even harder and broke through the people. He stopped raised his gun and shot the guy's wrist that had a hold on her and felt great pleasure in hearing his howls of pain. His stomach dropped when he saw Jason start to fight her, forcing her into the van. She kicked at him and continued to yell. Jungkook couldn't take another shot without risking hitting her. She kicked out and came in contact with Jason's stomach causing him to bend over. Jungkook took that moment to line up his shot.

Two men rushed him from the alley with knives in hand. By instinct, Jungkook elbowed one in the face disarming him and kicking the knife away and the other came at him forcing Jungkook to pull the trigger as the guy had been ready to throw the knife at him. The man slumped to the ground. His momentum had been slowed and he called out to DAMI. Jason looked back at Jungkook and brought his elbow to her face and her body went limp. She disappeared into the van and Jason followed. Jungkook raised his gun and aimed for the tires as the van drove away but he was never able to get a clear shot.

"Fuck!" He yelled and within seconds he was running back to the SUV that was parked around the corner. He knew he didn't have long before he would lose them. He yelled for people to get out of his way and pushed the ones that didn’t move fast enough out of his way. He rushed to the driver side and climbed into the vehicle and started the engine and throwing it into drive not even bothering to check his mirrors the shift to drive was quick and gravel shot out from under the tires as he shot down the street with his seatbelt swings beside him, completely ignored. He ran a stop sign and turned right cutting off a car and speeding through the makeshift downtown area hoping to close the distance between him and the piece of shit van.

Jungkook pulled out his phone and held down the number three and turned it on speaker and tossing it on the dashboard as he weaved in and out of traffic. Within two rings he heard a voice that made him want to yell in triumph.

"What Jeon? I'm busy trying to get laid." a familiar voice floated through the speakers.

"Yoongi I need you to track a phone for me." He rushed out and laid on the horn when someone got in his way.

"Jungkook I'm kind of in the mid-"

"Yoongi, please! Someone took Dami and I'm so far behind them I'm not sure I'll be able to find them without it." He begged because his job was to protect her and he had failed.

"Alright, hold on." He heard shuffling and a muffled voice, "Okay what's her phone number?"

"96356891224 and I need it now Yoongi."

"I know Jungkook, I'm working on it. The internet isn't exactly top-notch out here."

"Yoongi," he warned. He didn't care if Yoongi was older he didn’t have time to care about coming off as an asshole.

"Okay, it looks like she's about ten kilometers west of you."

"West?" he was confused. He couldn't remember any threats that were west of their area.

"Yeah, it looks like they might not be on a road anymore."

Jungkook cursed, "Is there any way that you could try and keep her on GPS and try to keep me on course to intercept them? I'm sure I could probably ch-"

"The signal dropped."

"What!?"

"I mean it could be a satellite thing, but it's unlikely. My guess is they ditched the sim card." He could hear the sound of Yoongi’s typing.

Jungkook punched the steering wheel and yelled, "Goddammit!" He pulled off the road and punched the wheel over and over.

"I can keep an eye on her number and let you know if it pops back up." He said sympathetically.

"I'm headed your way." He shook out his hand and turned the car around heading towards Yoongi’s house and hoping that he could help and give him something to go on. At this point, he didn't have much information and he didn't want to call the Yeo’s yet without having more information and a plan on how to get her back.

AN: Pulling this from the depths of my writing folder and figured I could go ahead and post for the first chapter since I already have a few written. like, reblog, smile, all that good stuff.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

S.T REWRITE - S1:E6; Chapter Six, The Monster - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

With Eleven gone, Y/n and Dustin struggle to keep the party together. Elsewhere, Hopper and Joyce uncover the truth about the lab’s many experiments.

||3rd Person POV||

Joyce and Hopper stood shivering in the cold autumn air. They were currently waiting on the front porch of what they hoped to be the home of Terry Ives. The woman they believed could answer all their burning questions on the many mysteries surrounding Hawkins.

They heard the faint sound of footsteps and when they looked up, they saw a woman peeking through the curtains of the glass on the door. She released the cloth curtains and she unlocked the door before opening it.

"Can I help you?" She asked, a weary look on her face.

"Hi, we're looking for Terry Ives. Does she live here?" Hopper asked.

A slight frown crossed her face as she crossed her arms, leaning against the door frame. "Who's asking?"

"Hawkins Chief of Police." Hopper stated, pulling out his badge and showing it to the woman.

"And you want to talk to my sister?" She asked wearily.

"Well, if your sister's Terry Ives, then, yeah we do."

The woman looked down at her feet contemplating this before speaking.

"Okay, well, you can come in but if you want Terry to tell you anything, you're about five years too late." She said turning and walking into the house, leaving the door open for her new guest to follow her.

As the duo followed the woman further into the house and what appeared to be the living room, they took note of the TV playing softly from the room.

"Terry, you have some visitors."

As she spoke she stepped aside as Joyce and Hopper timidly stepped into the room to find a woman in a rocking chair. She remained stiff, her arms still on the arms of the chair and she slowly turned her head, her face never changing. Her eyes were distant and she appeared disconnected from the world.

Joyce spoke up, taking a few cautious steps forward.

"Hello. My name's Joyce Byers. Uh, this is Hopper," she gestured to the man behind her. "We drove over from Hawkins."

The woman never moved, never blinked, but her gaze remained on Joyce.

"Um, you see, uh, my son... He's been missing for over a week now," Joyce continued. "and, um, we were wondering if we could talk to you about your daughter, Jane?" Joyce asked carefully.

"If there's anything that you could tell us about when she was taken..."

The woman closed her eyes for a moment before opening them, clearly pained at the mention of her missing daughter. Yet she remained silent and Hopper spoke up.

"What was your relationship with Dr. Brenner? You guys keep in touch?"

Again, they were met with silence and an empty stare. Joyce took this as an opportunity to step forward and offer the picture of her missing son.

"This is, uh... this is him. This is Will. Uh, you may have seen him on... on the news."

Terry only looked at the missing poster for a moment before returning her gaze to the TV, all the while Hopper staring confusedly at the exchange.

"What's wrong with her?"

The other Ives sister stood shaking her head and shrugged her shoulders.

"I told you, you're wasting your time."

||Reader's POV||

'This isn't right. Lucas should be with us.'

In that moment my brother seems to read my mind.

"This is weird without Lucas."

The three of us were biking across town. We figured we would most likely find El somewhere around Mirkwood so that's where we are headed now.

Dustin and Mike were behind me. The two were keeping up a conversation as we all kept a steady but comfortable pace. I wasn't in the most chatty mood at the moment. I was currently trying to concentrate my nerves into the task at hand and keep moving forward, making sure not to lose the boys of course.

Thankfully, the two of them seemed to understand I needed my space at the moment.

"He should've shaken my hand." I hear Mike say.

"He's just jealous."

"What are you talking about?"

I hear my brother sigh before speaking.

"Sometimes, your total obliviousness just blows my mind."

There's a small pause before he continues.

"He's your best friend, right?"

"Yeah... I mean, I don't know."

"It's fine. I get it."

"We didn't get here until the fourth grade. He had the advantage of living next door. But none of that matters. What matters is that he is your best friend. And then this girl shows up and starts living in your basement and all you ever want to do I'd pay attention to her."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is. And you know it. And he knows it. But no one ever says anything until you both start punching and yelling at each other like goblins with intelligence scores of zero."

I can't help but smile and roll my eyes slightly.

"Now everything's weird." He finished.

"He's not my best friend."

I hear Dustin laugh.

"Yeah, right."

"I mean, he is, but so are you guys. And so is Will."

"Can't have more than one best friend." Dustin stated almost sadly.

"Says who?"

"Says logic."

"Well, I call bull on your logic, because you're my best friend, too. That includes you, [Y/N]."

I spare a moment to look over my shoulder and make eye contact with him. I give a warm smile.

"Thanks, Mikey. I know I speak for Dustin as well when I say that you mean a lot to us." I look to my brother and we seem to silently agree with one another.

I make sure to keep an eye on the road as I bike forward, occasionally making eye contact with him as I speak. "And I promise, we are gonna find El, and then we are gonna talk some sense into Lucas. Cause I'll be damned if I lose another one of my boys."

The three of us smile at each other and I return my attention to the road. For one brief moment in time we feel almost... at peace. It's only been a week since Will's disappearance, but it's felt like years. It's refreshing, for once, even if it's only for a few short moments, we are just three kids without a care in the world. Of course, deep down, we know that is far from the truth.

The looming sense of stress and concern is only confirmed when we find ourselves across the street from Bradley's Big Buy convenience store.

I slam on the brakes and my tires squeal against the pavement when I spot the commotion outside the store. Mike and Dustin brake on either side of me.

"Woah." Mike breathes.

By the looks of it, it was robbed. But everybody seemed to be fine. The only evidence of a robbery was the shattered glass of the closed automatic doors and the policemen taking statements form witnesses of course.

"You don't think..." Dustin begins.

"Uh... definitely."

Unlike me, the boys are eager enough to trek on and they simultaneously start back on the road. I took a minute to catch my breath staring lost in thought.

Knowing I better catch up now, I stand up, propping my weight on each of the peddles of my bike and begin peddling, easily catching up to boys.

However, I can't seem to shake the feeling that I was being watched at this very moment.

+++++

Tag List: @fuckwaad @aimee-lucass

DM me if you want to be added!

[jpat82]

101 Ways To Kill Bucky Barnes

Date With Death

"Fernando!" You called out upon walking into the car shop, your car was already partially dismantled. You didn't bother to glance over at the crumpled hood as you passed by heading to the office. The man in question poke his head out, his olive colored face lit up when he saw you.

"Aya, girl, what did you hit exactly?" He asked in a heavy accented flamboyant voice, pursing his lips together raising both his eye brows. "Cause lemme tell ya, that thing is useless now."

"The guy my client wants taken out." You replied walking up to him, he stepped back into the small office.

"Oh, you mean tall, dark, and hello gorgeous." He shot back, giving you grin wiggling his eyebrows at you, rolling your eyes in response as you flopped down in the rolling chair with a huff.

"Didn't notice." You shot back, leaning you head against the back of it.

"He still alive?" Fernando asked walking back to the computer as he started scrolling through the multiple pictures of other cars.

"Hopefully not now." You told him, looking at the ceiling.

"And what does that mean?" He asked, bringing up a Cadillac.

"Ended up putting cyanid in his coffee after breakfast this morning, and it was enough to take a horse out." You explained shaking your head to the car on screen.

"Breakfast?" He asked, as he pulled up a dodge neon on the computer.

"Yeah, he took me out cause of wrecking the car." You replied tilting you head at the plain old car on screen. You nodded, you didn't need anything fancy for the next day or two.

"He took you out after you attempted to kill him? And then you tried to poison him?" He asked, his eyes widening at you, mouth dropping a bit.

"Yeah, I was hired to kill him, remember." You stated standing abruptly. "Not date him."

"I didn't say anything about date, just shocked." He remarked tilting his head and raising an eyebrow at you. You rolled your eyes again, walking over to the office window and look out at your car that was going to get scrapped. "Seems like you got more to add to that there girlie."

"No, I don't." You replied tersely.

"Hmm, let's see. That I know of you've tried poisoning him twice, attempted to run him over and he's taken you out for breakfast cause you, my dear, hit him with your car." He relayed back to you, you looked over your shoulder at him.

"As I said, I gave him enough cyanide to kill a horse, doesn't matter." You sighed, looking back out the window. "And I'll know for sure at five tonight that he's dead."

"Why five?" He asked.

"Cause I'm supposed to meet up with him for dinner." You said softly, looking down at your arms that were crossed.

"Hang on, you.. you are or were.. actually you agreed to go on a date and you still killed him?!" Fernando shrieked.

"I'm doing my job, and the amount I'm being paid is enough to get out of this life." You sighed, looking over at him again.

"No I get that, but girl, couldn't you have at least waited till after a little bit of fun time to kill him? You ain't been out in... like ever!" He all but yelled this time.

"He's a hit, that's it, and hopefully a dead one. I'd like to get paid and leave this city, too many people." You stated, walking out of the room. "How long till that car is ready?"

——

Bucky rummaged through his closet looking for something that wasn't too beat up or stained. His nerves were starting to get to him, making his stomach tie up in knots. He finally spotted a navy sweater and pulled it out, he checked over for wholes before looking for a pair of jeans that weren't tattered or bullet hole ridden and preferably one not covered in motorcycle oil.

    "Dude, you still haven't found something for this date? Taking longer then a chick." Sam remarked from the doorway.

    "Shut up, its been a very long time since I went out on date." Bucky responded with out looking finally pulling out a pair of dark denim.

   "Obviously." Sam chuckled. "Surprised you ain't putting on a suit and tie, that's how you folks did it back in the day."

    "Not entirely true." Bucky shot back looking over at the other man, he turned and walked over toward the doorway. Sam backed up a bit his arms still crossed. "Just cause we wanted to dress nice and presentable doesn't mean we always wore a suit and tie."

    Bucky closed the door and took a deep breath.

——

     Five o clock rolled around and you stood just outside the coffee shop door. You weren't overly dressed, there wasn't going to be a need for it anyway. Simple black pants and lilac top, you waited, biting your bottom lip. Then you heard the unmistakable sound of a Harley coming down the street, you nodded to yourself as you pulled your phone out and saw the minutes tick by. Mission completed.

    The sound of the bike shutting off in front you didn't even register as you took a deep breath.

    "Hey doll." Bucky spoke up, your snapped upwards, eyes widening. He sat on the bike, black helmet in rest on his thigh, you blinked hard a couple of times. "Sorry I'm a bit late, there was a traffic jam down the street."

    "That's.. okay." You breathed out, your heart skipping a beat as you stared at him. His hair was loose, something you had never seen on him.

    "So, I know a really good Italian place but it's either you drive or we take the bike. It's the only mode of transportation I have besides my own two feet." He smiled, you nodded as you walked up to the motorcycle. He reached back and unfastened the second helmet.

    "Bike it is." You smiled, taking the helmet from him as you swung your leg over the back and pulled the helmet on buckling it down. He better know what's he doing, you thought to yourself as you wrapped your arms around him.

He turned the bike back on, and you felt the purr of the motor reverberate through the machine. Gently he nosed it back out into traffic and sped off away from the coffee shop. Being this close to him you couldn't help but notice that the man was made of solid muscle, even through the leather jacket he wore you could feel how hard his muscle tone. You tried to push that thought to the back of your head, and Fernando's voice that kept telling you to have a little fun before you killed him.

   It didn’t take him long to wind through the streets before stopping at a run down looking restaurant just titled Mama's. He killed the bike and pulled his helmet off as you did the same. He got off the bike and you followed suit, Bucky gave you a lopsided smile, running his hand across the back of neck looking back at the building.

   "I know, it looks like crap but.. the foods is great and so are the people that run it." He stated looking back at you. You nodded with a big smile.

   "You know," you sighed walking toward the building, Bucky falling in step with you. "I always found little dives like this to have the best food."

   Bucky grinned as he opened the door for you just as you were about to reach it. It threw you a little to have someone open the door for you, a simple gesture, but it was something you couldn't remember anybody ever doing.

    "Bucky!" An older woman with a thick Italian accent yelled as she came across the restaurant floor. You looked around, the lights in the building provide ample light, but not over bearing, they hung from chain light fixtures with stained glass settings. Booths lined the walls, plush red leather seats and mahogany tables each with a single lit candle. Pictures of Italy, no doubt taken by the woman who embraced the other assassin, lined the walls all in black and white. "We weren't expecting you tonight!"

    She grinned up at him, holding the man by his arms before her gaze shifted past him, her honey brown eyes landing you. She raised an eyebrow, and then looked up him.

    "And you brought a girl." She chuckled, shoving him to the side slightly as she approached you, the woman wrapped her arms around, catching you off guard, your body instinctively stiffened.

    "Angelina, she's a friend." He stated, giving you apologetic look. All you could do was give him a tight smile as the woman finally released you, running her hand down your arm taking your hand in hers as she did the same with him. She walked you both to the table.

    "Well either way, it's nice to have you both." She smiled, both of you took your seats. Angelina hand you both a paper menu from the apron she wore before walking off to get you both something to drink.

    "Sorry, she's one of those people that hugs everyone." He stated taking a deep breath.

    "Really it's fine, just wasn't expecting it, that's all." You replied, settling in for what you would assume would be the most awkward date ever.

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[pbandjesse]

Today was a pretty good day. There was a big stressful part of the beginning but the majority of the day was very good. There was even a special surprise. And yoga.

I slept super poorly last night. I couldn't fall asleep for forever because I felt sick and nauseous and bad. And then when I did fall asleep I woke up a few times again. Air conditioner turned off in the middle of the night and James rollover next to me and I woke up just horribly uncomfortable. He wouldn't turn the air conditioning back on that because he always takes care of me. And I was able to sleep until about 7.

James was awake and told me I could keep sleeping but I didn't really want to. I wanted to lay there so I just played on my phone for a while. And then I got up. I got cleaned up and dressed and I felt okay.

I hung in my hammock for a little bit and then James told me he made a waffle. And I was like okay. And I was confused because he had asked me what I wanted for breakfast last night and I said I was going to have the avocado scramble thing I made the other day. And then he remembered that after he made the waffle and felt very bad. But it was fine. He made the thing I wanted and he had the waffle for breakfast instead.

I got the best boyfriend.

We hung out for a while and then left to go to the bus. James walked me there. And then bus proceeded not to show up for almost a half an hour. I was very frustrated. Because it was supposed to be there at 9: 30 but it didn't come until almost 9:50. And we had been there since 920. So I was very stressed out and I hate being late!! I texted Tiffany and let her know and I was just very distressed.

I was about 15 minutes late in the end. Sucks. I'm going to try to get an earlier bus tomorrow. So even if it runs late I will hopefully have the same issue. Because seriously we were three blocks away from access art and our bus driver saw someone on the street that he knew and he park the bus and got off to go have a conversation with him. I was losing my mind.

But I got there and everyone was fine. We're just lesson planning so it wasn't like I was missing anything yet but I hate being late. We all kind of bullshitted and talked for a little bit and then the teacher from holistic Life Center came.

He was a really nice guy. He told really funny stories and he was young and covered in tattoos and wearing a Orioles yoga shirt. He mostly talked about mindfulness. A little bit of yoga. And we learned a lot about breathing exercises. I felt very Vindicated and validated about the types of breathing exercises I already do with the kids when they're upset or hurt. But I learned some really interesting ones today. Specifically that I breathe wrong and I'm trying to retrain myself but it's very hard. It was very enjoyable even though I hated sitting in the folding chairs for that long. My feet don't reach the ground and it's uncomfortable.

But we also played a couple mindfulness games at the end of that was cool. Stuff that we can use in the classroom and it's awesome. I'm really glad that we were able to do that.

We had a late lunch. Marcus went down the street and got me a spring roll. Was very good. And I worked on my lesson plan. Almost out. I think I'll probably end up finishing it tomorrow. And then I'll go back in and make sure it's all good. I also think I want to use a couple other visual things for the classroom. And maybe add some tutorial images of some kind. We have tomorrow and Friday to finish lesson plans. And even with my brain breaks where I sketched tattoo ideas I still got a lot done.

While I was taking a break on my lesson plan I was looking at eBay and I got a crazy good deal on a Furby buddy. Something that I've been trying to get for 2 months now there's a little plush versions of the Furbies. I don't absolutely love them but people use them to make the long Furbies. And I'd like to try my hand at that. And I got one for $5. Usually they go for $35 to $40. I am very excited. I think I'm going to use it slightly as part of my example for my quilt making lesson. I'm going to make its belly pattern based off of Victorian crazy quilts. I'm very excited.

At 3 we finished up. We all decided on which weeks we should be teaching our lessons and when. Was decided that my quilt project would go first which makes me slightly nervous but it's probably a good idea. Because it's community building project we're going to kind of have all the kids get out there art things right away before they jump into other projects and I think that will work out nicely.

And then me and fitsum went home. His driving kind of makes me nauseous. Lot of fast speed up and then stopping. But we had a nice conversation about capitalism and its downfalls. And talked about apartments because he's moving as well. We saw a couple meet cars that we pointed out and talked about. It was a good time.

He dropped me off and I made some food. Did a couple packing things. Made a pile of the furniture and getting rid of. And just kind of hung out. Me and James were going to have dinner together but I kind of just wanted to be by myself a little bit. My dad's going to come visit this weekend and he's going to take the bed. So really these are the last couple days I'm ever going to live alone if all goes according to plan. And it feels very strange. I've lived alone for a long time. But I am excited. Nervous but excited.

I was just kind of chilling. Even though it was too humid in here to call it chilling. Playing Animal Crossing and watching videos. And then I decided to go check the mail.

I was excited because I had a package. But then I saw that there was a letter in there as well from the Minneapolis Apartment project. Which means it's from the class action settlement. Which means it's a check. When we won the settlement last year they said that we would get all of our rent back. But of course it was going to go into appeals. So we would probably just get a portion of our rent back. And honestly getting any amount of money from living in those apartments would be fine. But I was so nervous about opening this check. So he opened my package first. And it was socks! very exciting. I was looking forward to those socks. They're black and they have little hearts on them.

But I couldn't put off opening the check any longer. And I did and if I did my math right I thought about nine months worth of rent back. And the checks that this might not be the only check. That I might get more? Like after all the lawyers and fees are paid if there's anything left over there going to send another check. That's wild. And like all of my money stress. The $40 me and James got scammed out of the other day. James his bike breaking. Moving. All of it. This kind of feels like a buffer. We don't have to worry about it now. Least for a while. And I'm making more money and if he gets this job he's going to be at making more money. And even if he doesn't get this job he's going to keep looking until he does get something good. Don't have to be so stressed out and nickel-and-diming ourselves all the time. it's exciting. It feels Like the universe is telling me everything's going to be okay. That means using my white privilege to help make the lives of my neighbors and Minneapolis better is being rewarded. And that sometimes being a good person and trying to help other people does pay off in the end. And sometimes in cash.

I kind of didn't know what to say when I open the check. So I called James and let him know. And then I called my dad. We talked about taxes and he's going to check with the tax lady to make sure that I have put enough aside next year. I don't want to have an issue. But yeah it's exciting. And it was good to hear dad. He sounds a lot better. And he's looking forward to coming on Sunday and I'm looking forward to having him here. We're going to patch holes but hopefully we'll also do something else. Maybe we'll eat some good food and maybe we'll go see something interesting. Unsure of what yet but I'll figure that out.

I called Jess next to let her know. And she was very excited for me. And then I went back to packing. I brought more stuff from the basement. I broke down all of my Furby boxes. I don't know why I'm keeping them but it feels weird to throw them away. So flat in the Middle East to put them in storage. And I use the box that I have been storing them in to put kitchen stuff in. Paper towels and Ziploc bags. That one bottle of alcohol I always have. And then I took a shower. I painted my toenails and I'm just watching videos and enjoying my night.

Back to lesson planning tomorrow. And then I think falafels with James. No matter what it's going to be a good day. I can feel it. Hope you all have a good night tonight. Be kind to each other. Go out of your way for someone else. Don't expect anything in return. Good night