#and it's been really frustrating pulling teeth to try and get people to like... hangout

[be-gay-do-heists]

OKAY finally finished with eliot hand pain hurt/comfort fic, and i couldn’t actually decide whether i preferred it in second or third person POV. this is the version with the third person POV, otherwise nothing is different from the other version !

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Contrary to what the four crazy people he spent his time risking his life for nowadays thought, Eliot didn’t like the pain.

There was nothing cleansing about it, nothing satisfactory. A ringing hit to his jaw didn’t feel like penance. The actual protection aspect was a different story. Standing like a wall between your people and danger, there was nothing that made Eliot’s ribs ache with pleasure like that; a wall didn’t feel, didn’t think, it was just an immutable fact. He was an immutable fact. The problem was that the wall-as-Eliot, or perhaps the Eliot-as-wall, had to become human again sometime after the last man went down and the last dollar bill was stuffed into a duffel. To hurt was human, and not just to hurt but to remember the wound long, long after, for it to live in your knees and wrists and between the vertebrae in your spine. Some days— and this was a product of how long after a job it had been, how hard he had pushed—some days were worse than others. The fact that some days the first sound out of his mouth wasn’t even a groan, but a whine, or worse the half-awake pleading for please please make it stop i’ll do anything just make it stop—

No, Eliot didn’t like the pain.

Comparatively, today was a good day. Today, he could get out of bed. His head and body were blessedly in agreement that it was in his best interests to swing his twinging knees to the side of the mattress, push himself up onto legs that were sore but stable, with arms that shook only slightly. But compared to Eliot’s best days, the ones where except for the old shoulder injury which would never let him forget it and the scar on his hip that put a falter in his giddy-up in all kinds of weather, the days on which except for those he sometimes even forgot the pain, this didn’t hold a candle. Today his hands were so beat and weak that the ache radiated up to his mid-forearm, settled into him all familiar-like and made its home in him.

In the bathroom, Eliot used his wrist to turn on the faucet and stuck his mouth under the water to drink. Holding a cup was off the agenda. His morning routine was interspersed with winces, not unusual for his post-job bathroom adventures, and if it took Eliot longer to shimmy on the sweats he knew he wouldn’t be getting out of today, it made him appreciate the comfort of wearing them a little more.

Going handless was fine until he was face to face with the fridge, and resisting the urge to growl at it, like that would solve anything. Taking a deep breath, he put a hand on the stainless steel handle, testing his grip. A light flex had Eliot drawing it back like the metal had burned him, like someone had snapped a tight clothespin onto each ligament. He took a moment to pace a couple steps, let out a loud but cathartic expletive, and then wedge his hand between the handle and the door so he could open the fridge with his elbow strength. The feeling of triumph behind his collarbone faded quickly as the hitter scanned its contents and realized there was nothing he wanted to eat, or at least nothing he wanted to hold and eat. The thought of grasping a fork brought another growl to his throat, and he slammed the fridge door to stomp to the couch and throw himself down, cradling his hands in his lap.

Eliot knew the drill: in an hour, he would grit his teeth and get to up to try and fumble open his bottle of painkillers, and if he succeeded, he would wait another hour for them to truly kick in so he could handle the tv remote, put on whatever game was on, and vegetate on the couch until further notice. The phone he had left on the nightstand rang loudly, fully audible from the other room, blaring out the chorus to “Macho Man” that Hardison had put as his ringtone and Eliot hadn’t figured out how to get rid of yet. If it was important, whoever it was would call again, so he ignored it. His ire rose when the same noise sang out from the bedroom a couple minutes later, a bit-off groan escaping from his clenched teeth as he levered himself up to get to it as fast as he could, awkwardly accepting the call and maneuvering the phone between his shoulder and ear. “What?”

“Man, we haven’t heard from you since we split yesterday, I thought we were gonna get a beer downstairs last night?”

He rubbed his eyes with his wrist, frustrated that he had forgotten he was supposed to get together with Hardison the night before. Getting home, washing the sweat and blood off, and falling into bed had seemed like the only goal in his mind. “Look, sorry, I’ve been busy. And if this ain’t important, you—“

“Bullshit. Absolute bullshit, you’re using your tough-guy, bullshit voice. And you actually apologized, so something is double wrong.”

Eliot snarled. “I don’t have— Hardison, I don’t know what you’re talking about, just leave me alone.”

“Too late, we’re already at your place.”

Before he could open his mouth, his doorbell rang, drawing a groan from him. If he was correct about who the “we” was, it seemed silly to even ring it. His suspicions were confirmed thirty seconds later as the door clicked open anyways and Parker and Hardison came in, having the decency to at least look slightly sheepish. Eliot had already moved back to the couch, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. “Make yourself at home, why don’t you,” he growled.

“Excuse us for being worried about your wellbeing, Mr. Suffer-In-Silence,” Hardison scoffed.

Parker leapt onto the couch cushion next to him. “We thought you might have been captured by ninjas.”

“You would know if I had been captured by ninjas,” Eliot muttered. “It’s a very dis— look, you’ve seen that I’m not kidnapped, it’s our day off, can you please leave and let me rest.”

“You still owe us a hangout from last night!” Parker chirped. “Don’t worry, we won’t stay long.” She vaulted back over the couch to go rummage through his snack cabinets, getting into the granola bin by the sound of it. Eliot made a note to restock it before she came back next.

When he next opened his eyes, Hardison was lightly sitting on his coffee table, looking at the hands still resting in the hitter’s lap. “What’s up with your hands, Eliot?”

Eliot’s first instinct was to deflect. He trusted his team, sure, but this was different. They weren’t supposed to know that he had these days. That he wasn’t invulnerable. “Nothing’s wrong with them, stop sitting on my coffee table.”

“Mhm mhm, sure,” Hardison said. “Go like this for me?” He wiggled his fingers in a “hey sailor” kind of fashion. Before Eliot could tell him just what he thought about that, Parker’s ponytail swung into the side of his face, the thief reaching down to poke one of his hands faster than he could stop her.

By the time Eliot was able to refocus and pull himself back from the whiteout of pain, Parker and Hardison were looking at him with open concern, the hacker leaning back slightly, a little pale. Eliot thought he might have howled; he wasn’t sure. Both his hands were clenched tightly to his chest, wrists together, arms outward, wishbone shaped. He felt just as brittle as one, with their stares on him. He summoned the anger from his throat, the only weapon at his disposal (only half-expecting that it would work, always defenseless when it came to their prodding).

“Can you leave me the hell alone now?”

Hardison looked at him, taking his time formulating his thoughts, but it was Parker who spoke. “Nope.” Eliot turned to her where she was perched on the couch. “You get hurt taking care of us. Now you let us take care of you.”

Eliot looked at Hardison pleadingly, hoping he at least would take pity on him and let him wallow by himself. The hitter wanted to hide like the trap-escaped, half-dead badger whose den he had accidentally put his foot into half a lifetime ago in the Italian Alps, earning him an earful of hissing that scared the shit out of him. He wondered if he seemed as belligerent as that now.

Hardison just shrugged and smiled gently. “Hey, you heard the woman.” He leaned forward slightly, just enough in Eliot’s space to let him feel his warm presence without crowding. “Couldn’t get rid of us if you tried.”

He didn’t want to try, was the thing. It was only that it wasn’t their job to take care of him. It was his to take care of them. They just seemed to be wholly unaware of this.

“You taken anything for those yet?” Hardison asked, pointing at his hands. He hummed at Eliot’s slight head shake. “Thought so. Which ones?”

“White bottle, red pills. Only need a half,” Eliot mumbled, slouching. Parker was already up and heading to the bathroom.

“We need to get something you can actually open when this happens, some kind of spring-loaded catch maybe,” Hardison mused. “Alright, let me see them.” He patted his legs, frowning at Eliot’s growl. “C’mon, none of that. I know they hurt, I’ll be really, really gentle. I won’t even touch without asking.”

Eliot looked him in the eye for the sincerity he already knew would be there, the eagerness to help that (damn him) was one of his favorite traits of Hardison’s. Hesitantly, he extended his hands, rolling his eyes at the hacker scooting forward to offer his knees to rest them on.

“I assume you got antiseptic and ointment on these knuckles already, so totally disregarding those, even though it sucks. Nothing broken?”

“No, just. Aches. Like a son of a bitch. Can’t make a damn fist. Happens sometimes.”

Parker bounded back in, armed with a glass of water and half a pill in her open hand. “So no jobs for a while. Easy, I’ll tell Nate. Open up.” With a scowl, Eliot took the medication from her fingers with his teeth (gently, gently), and let her raise the glass to his lips, nearly choking as she tipped it a little eagerly, and choking for real when Hardison said, “Whoa, woman, let him swallow.”

“It’s not just the last job, Park, it’s jobs two years ago, or five, or ten,” Eliot managed, once he had his breath back. “Part of the package that comes with the lifestyle. It just happens sometimes, don’t matter what schedule we’re on.”

She frowned. “Still. We shouldn’t be doing jobs if you’re hurt. Nate should know that.”

Hardison leaned forward a little more while he was distracted trying to find the right response to that, that they wouldn’t be doing any jobs at all if that were the case, that Nate trusted him to get the job done no matter what, reaching out to his forearm and stopping just a hair’s breadth shy of touching. The hitter froze, and Hardison did too, meeting his eyes. “It’s ok. I’m just trying something out. Is it alright if I touch you here?” At his tiniest of nods, the hacker placed his fingertips on his arm, rubbing circles so lightly that Eliot almost couldn’t feel it. “Let me know where it starts to hurt, okay?” Hardison applied the slightest pressure as he added his other hand and lightly started rubbing down his forearm. When he got to his wrist, Eliot couldn’t help the strangled noise that partly escaped through his nose, high and strained. Hardison moved away from there immediately, going back to tracing soothing, gentle patterns. “You’re ok, you’re ok. I can work with this, no problem. Where do you keep your hot pads, man?”

“Bathroom, lower right drawer,” Eliot grit out. Parker was zipping off to get it and warm it up before he could even process. Hardison applied a little more pressure with his fingertips, rubbing the meat of his forearm. Eliot breathed out long and slow at how good it felt once the initial ache had ebbed.

“I want to try giving you a hand massage, but I don’t wanna hurt you more than it would help,” Hardison said, pausing slightly. “You up for it? I’m not gonna pressure you either way.”

Eliot’s thoughts stuttered, and then bolted in different directions. The feeling that he didn’t deserve this, that this was too much to ask, which had been simmering this whole time leapt to life again. It joined with the wounded, snarling animal part of him that still wanted to hide, burrow down with the covers over his head until his pain faded into the muted background noise of the world. He didn’t even know if a hand massage would work, might make the pain worse.

But it might be nice, a small, hopeful part of him murmured. Eliot couldn’t remember the last time he had been offered something like this, let alone the last time he had taken the person up. If there was anyone he trusted to do it, if there was anyone he wanted to receive it from, it was these two. How could he refuse them even he wasn’t fully on board with what they were suggesting?

“Sure, just…” Eliot said as Parker returned with the hot pad, pausing from tossing it hand to hand like a hot potato to fix her stare on him. He licked his lips, swallowed around a dry throat. “Just be gentle.”

“I will,” Hardison said earnestly, taking the hot pad from Parker to gently maneuver it under Eliot’s hands, resting on his knees. Eliot tensed slightly as the thief leapt up onto the back of the couch, perching above his head, but otherwise relaxed as the warmth of the hot pad started to loosen the ache in his hands. Hardison started where he had before, applying the slightest pressure to the hitter’s forearm. Parker ran her fingertips lightly through his hair, humming.

“Your hair is kinda wonky,” she said, fingers catching on a tangle. Eliot winced.

“That’s what happens when you go to bed without brushing it properly, you know that,” he grumbled, breath hitching as her fingertips grazed his scalp. His breath stuttered again as Hardison’s hands started working towards the sore meat of his wrist. Eliot’s hand began to shake.

“It’s ok baby, I got you,” Hardison murmured under his breath, more soothing sound than words. Eliot cracked open an eye to see him looking between his hands and his phone, playing a video where it was propped on his thigh.

“Man, are you watching hand massage tutorials right now?” he gritted out, doing a poor job of masking his genuine amusement with frustrated disbelief.

The hacker tapped his index finger against Eliot’s arm lightly. “I’ve been watching videos dude; think you’re so slick, tryna hide your hand pain from me. I just wanna make sure I get it right in real time.”

Parker’s fingers running through Eliot’s hair more boldly silenced any follow-up thoughts he had, mind going fuzzy with how good it felt. Without thinking, he insistently pushed his head up further into her touch, making her laugh. The sound reverberated in his chest, leaving him longing to hear it again. Instead a half-whine left his throat as Hardison probed the bottom of Eliot’s palm, the ache drawing him back to full awareness.

The hacker backed off for a moment. “Sorry, sorry. You still cool to keep going?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eliot breathed shakily.

“Just tell me if there’s anyplace else that needs to be handled more delicately, or you don’t want me going at all,” Hardison said, putting his clever hands to Eliot’s again and taking up his gentle, slow pace. Parker’s fingers had paused in his hair a second, but went back to running through it again, scratching his scalp on every other pass.

Slowly, slowly, the vice of pain on Eliot’s hands started to dissipate, bone by bone, finger by finger. He don’t know how long he sat there in a haze, as Hardison and Parker patiently touched him, fixated on the single task of caring for him. The thought made the tender space behind his breastbone twinge. When he surfaced from the half-asleep contentment of their efforts, the television was on, Star Trek playing at the lowest volume. Eliot grunted, lifting his head from the couch to look at the two of them sitting beside him, grinning at his movements. Hardison’s warm hand was still in his, but instead of massaging he was just holding it softly.

“Hey sleepy,” teased Parker, throwing herself over Hardison to get closer and forcing an “Oof!” out of him.

Eliot looked down to his hands, flexing one experimentally, in disbelief at how the ache had faded to an almost imperceptible hum. With the other he tightened his fingers around Hardison’s hand, moving his thumb lightly over his.

“Hey,” Eliot simply said back, a real smile rising to his lips.

[acklesterritory]

That Kind of Love Never Dies_Chapter 1

Hey guys, Now that more voted to split my fictions in 2 parts, I'm back with the first part. I hope you like it. Don't forget to leave me feedbacks. I'll always appreciate them. Love you all.

This is for writing event @tvdspngirl314

My quote is "That kind of love never dies"

Dean x Reader series (just 2 parts)

This chapter words: ~5k

Series warning:

Angst, fluf, smut, angry Dean, hurt Reader, hurt Dean, there's some more but I hate spoilers so I insist on "Angst & Hurt"

It all started with a stupid argument at home. What was it? Three months ago? Sam couldn't remember the exact date but after years, it was the first time this awkward coldness between Dean and Y/n had started to build. He could remember the first time he and his brother came across Y/n like it was yesterday, they were hunting a very nasty creature who used to kidnap young and lonely women at night, then got them wrapped in ropes and ties on a bed in a warehouse to rape, torture and feed on their blood until the victim either died or accepted to turn into one of his kind.

Sam could remember the helplessness in people's eyes too. The pain of the victims' families, the frustration and anger on cops' faces when no one could find the criminal yet, even after the sixth missing girl.

"Sammy, he just kidnapped another girl. And I think I know where he's gonna take her. Let's hunt this son of a bitch."

When Dean was saying that, Sam never expected him to fall in love with the woman they would save that night. Well, unfortunately they weren't fast enough to prevent any harm to the girl. When they arrived and Dean killed the nasty creature, Y/n was almost dead. The monster had already raped her, tortured her … and when he felt the hunters enter the place, he drank almost all of her blood, to gain more energy to fight. So as always, Dean was up to blaming himself. Of course only in his own eyes, not anyone else's.

"Call Cas to come home. Tell him it's an emergency."

Dean told his brother when he finally could get Y/n out of those ropes. And Sam knew he was right. At that point, no one could save Y/n unless God or his angels. Maybe she was not so lucky coming across a nasty supernatural creature like that but she was lucky enough that Cas arrived just on time and healed her. However, angels can only heal physical wounds. But Y/n was hurt much more than that. She couldn't just move on from the things that the bastard had put her through. Even after Cas tricked her brain to forget some certain things, she still had bad nightmares and had this dark shade of hopelessness in her eyes. Soon, she started to eat and talk less and less. And Dean just couldn't let her go. He really wanted to fix all of that for her but she kept shutting him out… until the depression hit her. It was so bad that Cas felt the need to tell them to prepare themselves for her death. Because after all those days and unlike everything else in their lives, The Winchesters were already used to her presence around them; like the way a lonely person can get used to a wounded cat more and faster than anyone else.

"I'm not gonna hunt until I'm sure she can live her normal life." When Dean stated that, Sam really thought he was joking. But after a few days he started to believe it. Dean truly would do anything to keep her alive. From cooking vegetables to laughing at his own dad jokes in front of Y/n to make her smile. That was when Sam started to feel that they can be more than a random hunter/rescued victim relationship! It felt like his brother had finally found his motivation in life: "Saving Y/n."

Gradually Y/n started to respond to this special attention from Dean with trust and smiles. Soon they became a power couple that could motivate each other so easily that sometimes Charlie would call them out. And honestly Sam had no problem with it. In fact Y/n had become his other sister.

"My God, Dean! You're burning up!" It was two day after a werewolf hunt in which Dean had got hurt. At first it was just some scratches on his arms and chest. Yet as the time passed, more symptoms started to appear: headache, pain, fever, cold sweat, even nose bleeding and before they could figure it out, Dean fell unconscious. Apparently the claws of the werewolf were poisonous. However Sam wasn't sure. The only thing he got no doubts about was the fact that it was already too late. Dean couldn't make it to the hospital. So either Sam had to do anything possible to save him or Cas should've picked up his God damn phone.

"No. no, no, no, no. Dean … Dean!!!"

That was when Sam got to hear Y/n's helpless cry and see her true feelings. She was already in love with his brother.

Luckily, unlike typical love stories; no one died that night. Sam's antidote worked. And Dean opened his eyes an hour later.

"Sammy … Y/n?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Y/n grabbed his face and put her thirsty lips on her beloved hunter's, letting the tears stream down on her face��� and then his.

"Never do that again." She begged, breaking the kiss, her trembling hands holding Dean's face so she could look into his eyes.

Sam couldn't stop his smile remembering how cute they were. Y/n literally had Dean wrapped around her little finger, to the point he accepted to teach her how to hunt and soon she was part of their team too. Until … a few months ago. After two years of them being constantly close to each other, Sam could tell something was off when Dean started to go out without eating breakfast with Y/n. Of course she got suspicious after the third time and that was when their endless arguments started.

"Why don't you just tell me what's wrong?"

"Because nothing is wrong, Y/n."

Actually there was. Something was VERY wrong. Anyone could tell that just by the change in Dean's eyes whenever he wanted to look at Y/n. Day by day he was getting more quiet and cold. Now they didn't even eat pie together or watch movies late at night. And Sam couldn't ignore his brother being grumpy or drunk on hunts, not anymore.

"Ok man, I've had enough. You either tell me what's wrong with you or next time I won't make any excuses so you can leave Y/n out of our hunt plans. I'm serious, Dean, I'll tell her the truth." He finally said, when they were alone in the impala, on their way to do their next hunt.

"She wants more."

"More?"

"Yeah. Sometimes it's like she sees more in me. She thinks we can have a different life. There's no need for any saying, I can see it in her eyes whenever we accidentally come across some family at a diner that try to feed their kids or people's wedding photos whenever we go to talk with some witnesses or whoever during the research! Sometimes she even looks up wedding dresses or kid stuff on the net!" Dean blew his anger out of his nostrils and sighed, shaking his head.

"Wow." Sam couldn't find the proper word to say but he couldn't hide his surprised face either.

"What?" Dean gave him an annoyed look.

"I mean …" Sam chuckled. "… are you telling me you're actually angry with her for imagining the things you always dream about?!"

"Sam …"

"No, really. I'm just curious. What's wrong with you, man?" Sam asked genuinely, waiting for an answer.

"What's wrong with me?! You think something is wrong with me just because I'm the rational one in this relationship; who's actually able to see the difference between a dream and the reality?"

Yeah, anyone could take that earnest speech, but not Sam. He'd seen and knew enough about his brother.

"What's the reality? Aren't you and Y/N living that dream life already?"

"What?! No. No … that's not the same." Dean shook his head.

"Really? How is it not? It's been two years, Dean. You two are constantly with and/or around each other. Always worried when the other one is in trouble and still looking at one another like there is nothing in the world that can make you happy as much as this relationship. So … excuse me if I won't buy your pretty speech; man ." Sam said, Rolling his eyes.

"Ok, let's say you're right but ... is it gonna be like that forever? With all the supernatural crap that we have to take care of … and the constant danger and chaos in this hunter life we have… I …"

"You what?" Sam asked when Dean didn't finish his sentence. He was lost in his thoughts, staring at this unknown point in the depth of the road. Finally he blew out his despair.

"I just can't let her fall for the things I know I can't provide for her. It's not fair, Sammy. It's not fair to lock her up in this dark life with me just because she loves me … especially while I know there is a whole bright future out there waiting for her."

"Here we go, the old Dean's self-doubt" Sam thought to himself as he took a deep breath before finding the best words to wake his brother up from this nightmare

"Yeah, I know but I don't think it's your call. If Y/n wants to go to hell with you instead of living in heaven with someone else, it's her choice. Not your responsibility. Right?"

Dean shook his head while his lips curved up a little to fake a smile but he never answered or said anything about that conversation ever again. He kept his silence for like three weeks … until someone new showed up: "Gary Smith". A tall man with the most stylish haircut and the most perfect teeth and smile.

They saw him for the first time at their hangout bar, as the new bartender who almost jumped in Y/n's way as soon as they entered the bar.

"Oh my God, bunny! Is this really you?" He said, pulling her in his embrace. Like she was the long time missing piece of his beloved puzzle!

"Bonny? You're wrong. Her name is Y/n." Dean said, pretty annoyed by the way Gary tightened his arms around Y/n's little shoulders, making him chuckle.

"No, uh … it's just a nickname." Y/n said as soon as the guy let her go.

"Yeah, actually the most fitting nickname that I could think of. I mean … you have to agree. She got the most cute little ears in the world." The guy explained, chuckling and pulling on her little star earring. Well, if Sam wanted to be honest, he had to agree with him. He never paid any attention to it before but now that Gary mentioned it, he could tell Y/n's ears were truly small.

"I see … So … I guess this means you were close friends?" Dean said, already hating the way Y/n e's blushed with hearing her old nickname.

"Uh … well, no. Actually more than that." The guy grinned, ruffling his own hair while he was awkwardly laughing and looking at Y/n. Just like a proud embarrassed teen!

"We used to date." Y/n said.

*oh* Sam tried his best not to let that stupid grin sit on his lips but Dean's frown and his sudden heavy silence didn't let him do so.

"Yeah. We are kinda each other's first. Like … you know? prom date." The man added, giving Y/n a wink while Dean's gaze was still locked on his large arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah. It's been years, Gary."

"I know. But believe me, bunny. you still look the same." He said, bending to put a kiss on her right cheek.

Dean would kill him. Sam just knew that. Because his brother's eyes were already burning with jealousy.

"By the way, don't you wanna tell me who these gentlemen are ?" The guy asked Y/n, giving her his softest smile.

"Of course. This is Sam and this is Dean. My colleagues who are my friends now. I live in their place."

After they met, everything got even more complicated. Y/n, the girl who was still trying to get old-happy-days Dean back suddenly stopped whatever she used to do. No more complains, no waiting at nights to see Dean before going to bed, no more effort to get involved in hunts, no nothing. And despite what Dean had claimed before, it was making Dean even more frustrated. Day to day he and Y/n were getting colder towards each other and there was nothing he could do to fix it. That was what made him even more furious. Sam already knew all of that and he still had to live with both of those grumpy faces. So last night when they began to fight, he could see this was coming: Y/n left the bunker after Dean let some hurtful things out of his mouth, just because he didn't know how to deal with all the heartache anymore. He now was convinced that Y/n didn't love him anymore. Yet the next day after drinking whatever strong drink they had, he begged Sam to come with him. Apparently Jodie texted Dean about Y/n being in her place for that night. Just to make sure that her crazy step son won't sell his soul over a tracking spell! So Dean almost begged his brother to be there with him, cause Dean believed that as much as Y/n didn't care about him, she still respected Sam and cared about him. Like a little sister and her elder brother.

So here they were, In Jodie's living room, in front of her and Y/n.

"Considering your sleepy eyes, I think we caught you at bed time, huh?" Sam asked, checking Y/n's obvious eye bags.

"Who says that? I'm totally good, Sam."

She said with a small smile, looking much more in control and stronger than before. So Sam knew it was a lie. Y/n Just had made her peace with what had happened last night. The realization۹ kicked Dean in the gut. Y/n always used to be stronger and bolder when she got hurt.

"I'm gonna make some coffee for us. Why don't you guys take a seat till I come back?"

Jodie interrupted, to ease the heavy and sharp silence that suddenly had fallen over all of them.

Y/n gave her a smile.

"Of course."

It was so fake. Her smile didn't even curl her lips completely. She was still badly hurting.

Sam swore in his head when he looked over his brother who sank silently into the nearest seat at the end of the table like a broken shell that he was too . One of Dean's hands was in the pocket of his jacket, the other formed a fist on the table. Sam was sure Dean knew it too. He knew everything was almost past saving. "Almost". Sam tried to stick to their small chance.

"So …" He cleared his voice before he put some (semi fake) hope into his words."You're … you're gonna come back home today or did Alex and Claire made you promise them otherwise?" He laughed and tried to make it funny but the truth was he asked this for Dean's sake, knowing he already was struggling to find the words … to let Y/n know how much he wanted her back … to ask her to come back.

"To be honest … I don't think I can live in the bunker anymore." Y/n said and as Dean's head snapped up to look at her in horror, she raised her hand to stop his (likely) protests.

"I applied for a job 3 weeks ago and to my surprise they called me this morning to tell me I'd actually got it."

*What?*

No one had to ask it. The question was already hung in the air. She snored mockingly in her nose. "Perfect timing, right?"

She moved her gaze from her interlocked fingers on the table to Dean's eyes.

He didn't answer, he didn't move but he got tense. Still staring back at Y/n.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Sam asked, once again saving Dean from asking the question he was itching to ask with some other words that for sure couldn't be nice.

"I wanted to but I didn't think I could actually get it and even if I did, I never figured out how to tell you. Besides, I never considered the "move out" option before..." She looked at Sam for a second before she turned her gaze on Dean. "... But I actually appreciate that you bring it up. I think now I can take the advice. I'm gonna move on."

Sam's heart dropped in his stomach when he heard those words. Because he knew what this meant. It felt something like having to watch Dean get stabbed in the heart.

"Is this … because of that Bartender?" Dean asked, staring deadly at Y/n with his bloodshot eyes. He was already chewing on his bottom lip. And Sam knew a heavy storm was on its way to hit them.

"I don't want to answer that question."

*shit*

"Why? Because you can't just simply say no?" Dean scolded and Sam could see how it pushed on Y/n boundaries.

"No. Because it's not your fucking business and it's not Gary's business either. But at least he knows his limits."

*well, fuck*

"By "limits" you mean when he drools on you just because for God knows whatever the reason, you started to wear leather jackets when we go there?"

"WHAT?!"

*Oh, fuck* Sam thought to himself, watching Y/n rise from her seat.

"You think … you really think that I …" she laughed nervously and Sam could tell she would punch Dean in the face if she wasn't a sweet, super nice person.

"How you can even …"

"I can even what, Y/n? Are we now going to pretend like I'm a blind man who can't see how you got attracted to your ex again? Did you really think I couldn't see how your hands were shaking when his filthy face lighted up by seeing you for the first time after all these years?"

Sam wanted to interrupt him or at least leave the room but everything was happening so fast.

"So what? Why and since when you care about my private life?"

"Since you stopped drinking bunker's beers just because you rather drink those crappy poisonous cocktails he makes at the bar!"

Dean was on his feet now as well. And despite his will, Sam couldn't stop his smile. He never saw his brother this jealous before. It was fun.

"Poisonous? … You … of all people, you are the one who says this? cause as much as I know, you're the one who puts dormitives in my guest's food so the poor guy gets tired and can't spend his time with me!"

"Yeah, because your poor guy is not welcomed in MY PLACE!" Dean yelled, punching the table with so much power that made everyone almost jump out of their skins.

"Dean!" Finally Sam interrupted but as soon as he stood up, someone rang the doorbell and Sam could hear Jodie welcoming someone inside.

"Guys … I know it's not my place to interfere but you two really need to sort things out somewhere private … of course that's when both of you can be much calmer than this."

"No, we have nothing to say or to talk about, anymore. Your brother was clear enough when he said he wants me to move out, so I'll move out. And that's it."

Y/n declared, looking at Sam to resist any eye contact with Dean, probably to make him even more crazy.

"And that's it? You wanna ignore that part where you were too eager and ready to accept that suggestion and leave the bunker instantly like your pants were on fire?!"

Dean retorted while Y/n was shaking her head like she couldn't believe him.

"Whose pants are on fire?" Jodie interrupted as soon as she re-entered the room with the coffees she'd made, this time a man was with her. Y/n's guy. The famous bartender.

*Oh, No!*

Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a second so the guy couldn't read his face.

"Obviously not mine." Dean hissed through his teeth, looking first at the guy and then at Y/n with such a disappointment and rage that no one could ignore.

"Hey, what's wrong?" The guy asked, choosing the worst spot to stand on: right next to Y/n.

"My typical life I guess. Nothing's new." She mumbled in reply to him but her eyes were still on Dean.

"No, nothing is wrong with your life, Y/n. It's about your choices. That's what's wrong with you. As always." Dean said bitterly. As sharp as a knife, as cold as ice. Sam could see how it drained color from Y/n's face.

"You better watch your mouth, buddy." The Gary guy warned Dean and Sam could tell that if it wasn't for the sudden thud sound that stole everyone's attention, Dean would throw a fight right there. But …

"Y/n!" Jodie almost screamed. Y/n was laying on the floor, seemingly unconscious.

"Oh, God." Sam said as Jodie rushed to her.

"Y/n? … Y/n can you hear me?"

As she sat next to her, Gary's fingers already were on Y/n's carotid pulse point. So Sam couldn't stop himself from looking up at his brother, who was still standing where he was. In shock.

"Oh, shit!" Gary's worried voice made Sam check Y/n's pale face again but Jodie was the one to dare ask the question which was on everyone's minds.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Her pulse ... too faint." He said before turning to Dean: "Is she bleeding?"

"Bleeding?" Dean blinked and mumbled in confusion.

If it was up to Sam, he'd ask *What bleeding?* & *Why are you asking this from my brother?*

"Oh my. You still don't know. Do you?" Gary sneered.

"Know what? What's happening?" Jodie was freaking out now and Sam actually felt the same. He didn't like the way this stranger pretended like he knew her better than them. However what happened next was much more unexpected. And … rude!

To everyone's surprise, the guy reached out to Y/n's jeans and drew his hand between her legs but before anyone could react, he spread her legs open so it could be possible for everyone to see that big red stain there. Then he raised his hand. It was all wet and red in blood!

"She's having a miscarriage." He revealed.

Sam's gaze instantly caught Dean's ... Burning. Dean was burning inside with his heavy silence.

"Don't you worry. It's not mine." Gary added more fuel to that hell with such a mocking tone, staring right back at Dean's eyes.

Now Sam could feel it. The storm was there: rising in his brother's roar!

Before Sam could've moved any muscles, Gary was already pinned to the wall, Dean's hands on his now-ripped-out collar.

"Dean, no!" Sam jumped in, trying to catch his brother's arm before his fist make any contact with the guy's nose but all he could do was changing the direction of the punch which landed on Gary's shoulder, making a painful cracking sound.

"I said no … Dean, stop it." Sam had to literally cage Dean in his arms so the furious man couldn't tear Gary apart.

"Get off me, Sam. This son of a bitch has to learn his place."

"Enough!" As Dean just broke himself free, Jodie's scream stopped everyone in their tracks.

"It's enough!" Jodie warned all three men, pointing at them one by one.

"You want to fight? Not here. Not in my house!"

"But ..."

As soon as Dean opened his mouth to protest, Jodie cut him:

"And you … you should know Y/n is pregnant with your twins. So … you'll be a responsible man who will try his best to save them or you can get the hell out of here and never come back!"

"What?" Sam was too shocked to suppress his reaction while Dean couldn't even find any words to say. His confused look darted between Jodie's face and Y/n's figure while his parted lips kept moving without making any noise, just like a dying fish on the shore!

"I promised her not to tell anyone but it was a promise under normal conditions, not this." Jodie sighed, struggling to keep her emotions under control. Sam saw the worry in her frown. Like a real mother, worried for her children. However it was nothing in comparison to his brother's blank eyes and pale face.

"Dean, It's ok. We just need to take her to hospital. … it's ok, man. I promise."

He had to grab Dean by his jacket, as his brother was struggling to process all of these in his head.

"Come on, man. We got no time. Do I need to do this alone or you'll …"

"Get the car, Sammy."

It was just a simple sentence. Yet it had enough power to make Sam's heart sank. Since Dean had put the car keys in his hand saying that, Sam couldn't stop thinking about that tone. Dean never had called Baby a "car" In years. And Sam had never heard that crack in his voice since their Dad's death.

"You ok?" He finally let himself ask, two hours after they arrived at the hospital.

"I want to be." Dean closed his eyes and put his head against the cold wall, letting the dim light to darken the shadows under his eyes.

"I'm sure she'll be good. She's strong, Dean. You know that."

He smiled and Sam looked away not to watch him. He knew that smile. Dean used to give him that, whenever everything was gone so wrong that Dean couldn't promise him anything good. Like when both of them were still kids. Hungry, cold and all alone in a rusty motel room where John had left them on their own for a one day long hunt but then a heavy snow had crashed the roads and kept them apart for half a week. So Dean had to wash the dishes and do the laundry in the motel to rent the room for another day and provide some snacks so they wouldn't starve to death. But after three days, the hotel managers didn't want them to be around. And Sam could vividly remember that smile on his brother's face when he asked: *Where should we go then?*

"You were always such a father material. You know?"

Sam admitted with a broken smile on his face.

"You were always responsible, kind and caring with me as a kid. And I can't imagine anyone who deserves to be a father more than you."

Dean took a deep breath and opened his eyes without looking at him: "But I don't want ... I really can't, Sammy."

All, it certainly wasn't the response Sam had expected. He used to believe that Dean would never turn down any chance to start a family with Y/n. Especially after everything in the world was back to normal.

"Are you kidding me? You always wanted this."

"No …" Dean finally turned his gaze to meet his brother's confused eyes. "No, Sammy. Not like this. I don't want to raise another kid without his mom. I'm not that strong anymore."

Dang. Once again Sam's heart dropped in his stomach. Dean was really helpless.

"Mr. Winchester?"

Dean was on his feet as Sam just realized the doctor's presence.

"It's me."

Sam prayed for any good news as doctor took a glance of Dean and fixed his glasses on his face …

"To be continued …"

READ CHAPTER 2 HERE

tag list:

@jay-and-dean @adoptdontshoppets @akshi8278

The next and also ultimate chapter will post on Sunday, April 25. Thanks for reading.

Feedback are always appreciated.

[timextoxhajima]

Love Me A Little Less: Chapter 3 - Her Father’s Daughter

LOVE ME A LITTLE LESS CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Member: (3rd person pov) arranged marriage au with Lee Juyeon

Genre: angsty wangsty

Taglist: @hyunvelies @sunwoowuvbot​​

“You want the luxury of a choice? I’ll give one to you right now, so you better make the right one.” ​

“Now, this just coming in-- The next director of Apple-Korea, Lee Juyeon and Hera’s Princess, Kim Jang Won... have been reportedly dating for almost three years now!”

“No!”

“Yes! And get this: this wedding? It’s been on the planning table for almost 6 months!”

Lee Juyeon peers out the window as the car slows to a halt, hazel brown orbs scanning the traffic outside. Multiple LED screens on the sides of corporate buildings were broadcasting the news. The crinkling of a plastic wrapper ruins the beauty the amount of shock amongst the community was bringing Juyeon, cuing him to turn back and face his fellow passenger. The sight of Kim Jang Won awakens his corporate-thinking brain, processing the gravity of the news she falsely put out just about... five minutes ago.

“Your father just climbed out of his own grave and you wouldn’t give him half a day to busk in the spotlight, huh?”

“Mm,” She hums, gracefully taking a bite out of the fruit-yoghurt bar. “I would’ve given him a lifetime worth of spotlight if he came back as a zombie and there would be some sign of actual death but-- nah, he’s been alive since the day we thought he all dropped dead from that heart attack of his. God knows where he’s been the last two years, hiding and letting me build HERA & ARTEMIS... only to take it away from me?” She shakes her head, smacking her lips and taking another bite. “Not a chance.”

Juyeon laughs through his exhales, unsure whether he’s more in disbelief he’s trapped in this chaos or how poised Jang Won’s uncouthness in handling this situation was. His phone buzzes, and he coyly pulls it out to check the message in the screen amongst all the other stupid headlines. 

Young Jin Seol [12.52pm] : You’ve been schedule for a meeting with The Board at 4pm later, sir. 

He locks the device and slides it back into the inner breast pocket of his blazer. “I assume your brother is taking this better than you?”

“Excuse you, I think I’m taking this much better than most people expected me to. Well, better than I expected myself to,” The wrapper crinkles when she finishes it. The car drives up into the entrance of her mansion, easily dozens of reporters already beginning to pillow the car. 

“I have a meeting with The Board later at 4pm. Will you be present?” Juyeon raises a brow, watching Jang Won slide on her sunglasses. Her blue fingernails glimmer as she carefully folds the wrapper, using her tongue to dig the crevices of her mouth. 

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be, hubby?” She offers a seductive smirk, then unbuckles her seatbelt to lean across to him. Sliding the folded plastic wrapper into his breast pocket, Jang Won presses her cherry lips onto his, earning incessant flashes and shouts from outside the car. 

“Mm, I can still taste the wine and the tad bit of salt you got left from lunch with your Mommy and Daddy.” 

Juyeon frowns, gritting his teeth as she pulls away and exits the car on her side. The shouts and questions directed at her are muffled when she slams the car shut, her bodyguards from the mansion rushing down the steps to create a pathway for her. 

The car finally drives off, and Juyeon can’t help but to sneer in disgust at the cherry shade left on his lips. The grimace on his face nearly earns a snigger from his driver. 

“What? Funny?”

“On the contrary, sir,” He eyes Juyeon through the rear mirror. “I think she’s rather charming.”

Juyeon nearly chokes on his saliva, pulling out a napkin from one of the seat’s back pockets. “‘Charming’ my ass. She’s a dangerous woman and I’m just keeping myself alive.”

BREAKING: LEE JUYEON AND KIM JANG WON TO BE PRESENT AT THE BOARD’S PRESS CONFERENCE AT 4PM LATER THIS AFTERNOON

Mr Ro has the most disapproving look on his face as Jang Won pridefully pushes her way into the entrance hall, heels clacking against the marble and smiling widely at her butler. But of course, her brother shows up from the hallway, clearly dissatisfied.

“What the Hell’s wrong with you? You can’t run off like that and lying to the media!”

“Oh, please. This is nothing. Hey! Can I get my wardrobe and hairstylist down soon? I want to look nothing less of Kylie Jenner at her mother’s funeral at my own press conference!”

“It is exactly because I know you’re just getting started that I think you should stop,” Younghoon quickens his steps, reaching out and grabbing her arm. “You are not only pulling our family into this - you are pulling the Lee family into this.”

“Well, hey! I wasn’t the one who put their son up for sale when the offer came along!”

“But Lee Juyeon didn’t even want to be a part of this! He had no choice because his parents made it for him!”

“And did I?!” Jang Won’s near-shriek echoes through the halls. Mr Ro winces, gently shutting his eyes to regulate the surprise. “You say that of him as if I had a choice. I didn’t want dad to die. I didn’t want to take HERA & ARTEMIS. You think I wanted to spend all those nights and days and shitty bar hangouts with rich people trying to get them to sponsor and invest in HERA & ARTEMIS? Hell, no!”

She tears her wrist out from Younghoon’s grasp, shoving him back by pushing against his left shoulder. “Maybe you don’t know how shitty it feels because all you had to do was wait for HERA & ARTEMIS to become successful enough before you could build your stupid entertainment company. But right now, I’m fighting for what I created; for what I made, and I will tell you right here and right now that I am not stopping until I get what I fucking own so you better... and I really, really, really hope you make the right decision when I say you better pick a side.”

Her brother remains frozen in some kind of resignation as she closes the gap toward him. “Just because we share the same last name, doesn’t mean I will spare you, Kim Younghoon. You want the luxury of a choice? I’ll give one to you right now, so you better make the right one.”

Jang Won turns on her heels and strides past Mr Ro to the stairs, walking up to the second floor where she would spend the next 3 hours getting pampered and fitted for her press conference as the new bride of Lee Juyeon. 

The smile Lee Juyeon has on his face looked like it was programmed; sculpted onto a stone statue; frozen in time. His father almost cannot look at it - even through the television screen, he knows it’s fake. He knows Juyeon hates it. 

But Hera’s Princess couldn’t care less. Why would she? She’s getting what she wanted, or at least, part of it. Now that she’s got Lee Juyeon playing the game by her rules, she’s one step nearer to her goal, and that’s to win back HERA & ARTEMIS from her own father. 

The jewel sitting on her left ring finger shone brightly with every flash a certain camera in the room went off. The Blue Nile Round Diamond 30-carat ring could blind someone if she deliberately shone its reflection into someone’s eyes.

“Today, The Board invites the next director of Apple-Korea and his newly announced fiancé, also known as Hera’s Princess and current owner of HERA & ARTEMIS to our monthly press conference of May. We warmly welcome Lee Juyeon and Kim Jang Won.”

The reporters and journalists provide a rather generous round of applause as Juyeon steps up the platform and takes his seat, Jang Won on his left with the brightest, sweetest smile he’s seen on her in the last six hours. 

“Thank you. We’re absolutely honoured to be here today, my fiancé and I. Today, we announce our upcoming plans up till the end of the year, assuming my father still grants me some kind of authority to HERA & ARTEMIS,” She scoffs the last part of her sentence away, earning some scattered chuckles from the crowd. It irks Juyeon, the way he knows she’s being sarcastic and her words are filled with nothing but the poison of hatred and yet these people can’t hear it for the love of God.

Sympathy, he feels. For a short, fleeting moment, he feels sad for her.

“But otherwise, my father and I have agreed on a major reform of HERA & ARTEMIS.”

Juyeon’s eyes light up, not from enthusiasm, but anxious anticipation.

“Before my father is to take full ownership of HERA & ARTEMIS by June, firstly, we will have our wedding in April,” Coyly grabbing Juyeon’s hands and showing them off to the audience, rings around their fingers. “And secondly, after my fiancé advances to director, Apple-Korea will buy 50% of HERA & ARTEMIS.”

The effort Juyeon was investing into hiding his shock, confusion and frustration in his chest was of immense, ground-breaking magnitude. His grip around her hand tightens, and she tightens her jaw, forcing out a smile when the reporters and journalists break out into murmurs and surprised exchanges.

“My brother, Kim Younghoon, will assume full ownership of Artemis as a separate entertainment company, no longer attached to HERA & ARTEMIS. Artemis will become a collaborator or partner, no longer a subsidiary.”

The panel of officials from The Board looked extremely restless from the corner of Juyeon’s eyes, and he finds trouble in deciding which to offer more attention to: the fact that one single person was intelligent enough to send the entire world of The Board into chaos, or the fact that she was already making use of him even before he assumed the role of director. 

Her fingers are now interlocked with his, resting on the table as the camera flashes go off, illuminating the room every other second. 

THE BOARD’S MAY PRESS CONFERENCE: 

LEE-KIM WEDDING IN APRIL, LEE JUYEON TO ASSUME DIRECTOR OF APPLE-KOREA IN MAY AND BUY 50% OF HERA & ARTEMIS, KIM JO-PIL TO ASSUME OWNERSHIP OF THE OTHER 50% IN JUNE, KIM YOUNGHOON TO ASSUME FULL OWNERSHIP OF ARTEMIS AFTER DETACHMENT, “ARTEMIS TO BECOME PARTNER OR COLLABORATOR”, KIM JANG WON SAYS

Younghoon’s inhales sharply, standing and frowning at the television screen after finally being unable to contain his shock. The reflection off the pool outside his living room paints inconsistent waves on his ceiling, the sound of pool water wading being the only thing he can hear besides the commotion from the broadcasted press conference. 

Scoffing aggressively, he covers his mouth and drags his fingers down to his chin, pulling on his skin and pursing his lips into a thin, white line. 

“Father, you have made the grave mistake of underestimating your daughter,” Younghoon smiles, then grins widely, somehow proud. “Her father’s daughter after all.”

Jang Won’s smile beams throughout the room, and for a split second Juyeon is mesmerized by it. Her eyes have been planted with the horrors of nightmares and terrible myths combined and yet there was something about that smile that made him think ‘Maybe being your fiance wouldn’t be too bad’.

“Before we open up the floor to the invited reporters and journalists, would Mr Lee like to say anything?” One of the officials from The Board finally gets up, hiding his confusion and anxiety behind his polite, service smile. 

Lee Juyeon sits up straight in his seat, thumb gently massaging hers as he resumes the act. Jang Won’s service smile remains coded into her lips, eyes loving as she turns to him. 

The whole world is watching, Juyeon. He thinks. The whole world is watching you put up this act, being in love with Hera’s Princess - arguably the most cunning name tied to The Board. Choose her and she’ll give you what you want. Choose otherwise and who knows what will happen?

“Mr Lee?”

“I think my fiancé has said everything that’s on my mind, haven’t you, love?” Juyeon smiles sweetly, eyes folding into long, thin lines. The curl of her lips are of triumph when she knows he’s bought into what she offered him; what she promised him. She cannot do this without him and he knows this, but what better way than to assert his authority than to pair up with the most powerful female in this shitty world?

Kim Younghoon’s eyes widen, fingers digging deep into the material of the cushion on his sofa as he watches Juyeon remove his hands from Jang Won’s, instead cupping her cheeks and bringing her face to his. 

Mr Ro strides past the first guestroom, hearing the sound of the news playing on the television in the room. He looks through the gap of the door that was left ajar, cautiously watching Kim Jo-Pil nervously swirling a glass of whiskey in his hands as the next director of Apple-Korea tilts his head, on screen.

“Play along, would you?” He whispers, and Jang Won’s pride surges when he presses his lips into hers. The floor of reporters and journalists erupt into questions and cameras go off like Donald Trump had just been shot dead. 

Kim Jo-Pil freezes, watching the whole press conference room light up with fluorescent flashes. But Mr Ro can’t help the jolt when Kim Jo-Pil deliberately flings the glass into the floor, pieces flying across the wooden flooring. 

“She’s her father’s daughter after all, sire.”

[frelmidja]

Have you got any personal headcannnos for any rarepairs in mha you ship?

ok I have spent WAY too much time making up backstory for EctoLoader... I wanted to put it together as a fic but I haven't made any progress on it in about 2 years, so I'm gonna try to summarize all the stuff I've come up with for them. 

It’s a lot.

-Ecoplasm and Power Loader meet in high school - Ecto is at the top of his heroics class, and has a competitive friend group. He believes being a top hero is the only thing he wants to do with his life. 

-Power Loader is the quiet, weird kid from out of town. He has trouble making eye contact and frequently runs his fingers through his hair, pulling his bangs down over his eyes. He also sometimes chews on his iron claws, which is very bad for his teeth but it's a nervous habit that he has trouble stopping. He's a wallflower just trying to get by until Ecto shows up in the support room with a broken helmet that needs fixing.

-At first Ecto sees him as a tool to repair his gear - the company their school uses to fix things takes forever, so support items often stayed broken for a long time. Power Loader doesn't have any close friends and is struggling in his support classes (his main teacher thinks he should be in a course based on his quirk, iron claws, and that he has no business being in support item development, so she was keeping him shut out of support opportunities) SO Power Loader gets pretty clingy to Ecto. Even though he knew he was being used, he figures that some kind of friendship is better than nothing.

-Ecto ends up spending a lot of time around Power Loader to keep him handy, but realizes that there aren't the same expectations from Power Loader that he has from his competitive peers. He can have some quiet downtime to relax and just hang out, which is really nice. Power Loader stays quiet and doesn't open up much, but he eventually shares his secret spot with Ecto - an area under some old, unused bleachers that he'd spruced up. Power Loader often goes there when the support room is full of students during breaks and lunch, and it ends up being a hangout spot for the two. 

-Their friendship seems pretty stable until a guy who used to be a part of Ecto's friend group confronts Power Loader one day, taunting him about how Ecto is just using him and isn't really his friend. Power Loader tries to brush him off, but the guy uses his quirk (he can split his total mass into 2 versions of himself) and keeps getting in Power Loader's face. Power Loader ends up punching him in the gut, hard. The guy leaves Power Loader alone after that, but the damage is done - Power Loader can't stop thinking about what he said.

-Later at school, Ecto is looking for Power Loader to help with some scratches he got on his helmet. It's a rainy day, and he finally finds Power Loader huddled under the bleachers. Power Loader is curt with Ecto, and makes it obvious that he knows Ecto is using him to fix his support gear. However at this point, Ecto genuinely likes spending time with him. He manages to calm Power Loader down. Power Loader vents his frustrations about his support teacher to Ecto, who agrees that she's being unfair. Power Loader feels better knowing someone acknowledges his struggles. He offers to fix Ecto's helmet even though Ecto hadn't asked yet - but Ecto tells him no, it’s just cosmetic and if his gear is always getting fixed then someone will figure out what's going on and Power Loader might get in trouble. By the time the lunch bell rings, they're both in better spirits but it's raining pretty hard. If Power Loader shows up to class soaking wet he'd be in trouble, so Ecto tosses his jacket over Power Loader and darts into the rain - he has gym class next so he needs to change anyway. Power Loader is able to stay mostly dry and stammers a quick thank-you to Ecto.

-After this Power Loader opens up a lot more - he'll talk about projects he's working on at home/in secret, he doesn't tug on his hair as much, he's a lot more relaxed when they hang out, etc. Power Loader is also getting friendlier with the people in Ecto's friend group - he's not someone they consider competition, and they're warming up to him.  Ecto's oblivious to the fact that Power Loader is crushing on him pretty hard, but a couple of his friends started to notice. They tease him about it but Ecto brushes them off, saying they're just friends.

-At one point Power Loader tries to ask Ecto out on a date to a new ice cream place in town. (Power Loader doesn't like sugary foods, but Ecto has a big sweet tooth) Power Loader uses the excuse that he doesn't want to go by himself and asks if Ecto would go with him... but Ecto misunderstands and invited the rest of their friend group. Power Loader's disappointed, but they still have fun.

-Power Loader tries his best in school but keeps struggling because his support teacher is blocking him at every turn. Ecto does great in his hero classes. He debuts his super move, Giant Bite Detention, during a vs. match with another school. This attracts a lot of attention and gets him an internship at a prestigious agency after he graduates. Power Loader ends up going to a 2 year tech school and lands a job at a company that repairs support items - not what he wanted, but not a bad start. They're really close friends by the time they finish high school, and Ecto is starting to see how Power Loader feels about him, but neither one addresses it and they stay close friends.

-About 3 years after high school, the friend group meets up for dinner and drinks - one last hoo-rah before they go their separate ways. They laugh and carry on, talking about what they've been doing and what their plans are. They're all a little tipsy by the time dinner is over, and Power Loader ends up going home with Ecto instead of trying to catch a late night train back to his apartment. It seems like things are going to get frisky, but Power Loader had too much to drink and winds up getting sick. Ecto takes care of him until he feels better; he makes Power Loader drink a bunch of water while he puts together a place for him to sleep. Ecto made a little setup on the floor in his bedroom, but when he turns around Power Loader has already crawled into Ecto's bed and fallen asleep. Ecto resigns himself to sleeping on the floor.

-Power Loader wakes up the next day and, thinking he's at his own place, is getting handsy with himself - which causes Ecto to wake up, startling them both. Power Loader is flustered, but when Ecto starts coming on to him he goes with it and it leads to them fooling around. They wash up afterwards and make some jokes about being 'friends with benefits,' both brushing it off as just a couple friends being dumb together. After having lunch out, Ecto goes to see Power Loader off at the train station. It's a bit somber because soon Ecto will be traveling halfway across the country for some hero work and they won't see each other for a long time. They make promises to keep up online and tease each other, all smiles by the time the train arrives. Ecto gives him a goodbye hug and heads home to pack after the train leaves. When it arrives at Power Loader's stop, he gets off and walks home, keeping his head down. He gets into his apartment and goes straight to his bedroom, where he buries his face in his pillow and cries.

-Power Loader and Ecto stay good friends, even though they don't get to see each other very often. Power Loader gets tired of his job at the repair company because there's limited opportunities to move up, and starts looking for a new job. Ecto is moving up as a hero. There's a lot of attention on him; he's in the running to become the number 1 hero when he takes on a job that requires a lot of discretion. Ecto just knows that this will give him the boost he needs to become number 1, and gets so caught up in trying to reach his goal that his overconfidence blinds him. On the day of the sting operation, he races ahead of the team he's with and corners the person they're after, who has a bone manipulation quirk. (she can morph the bones in her own body to use as weapons) She sends a razor-sharp sickle of bone his way, which he dodges. It curves around and destroys the clones he's using for backup, getting rid of his vision on everything but what's in front of him. Something sweeps his feet out from under him and Ecto falls to the ground hard. He catches a glimpse of the bone-lady getting away, holding something, but his head is fuzzy and he can't catch his breath. The rest of his group finally catches up to him and someone cries out, causing Ecto to turn and notice half his legs are missing and he's bleeding out. He falls unconscious just as they reach him.

-Power Loader is at work, just kind of running on autopilot. He's thinking about the jobs he's checked out, and about Ecto coming to visit in a few weeks. Break time comes and as he's heading to the cafeteria he notices a crowd in the break room. Curious, he squeezes in to see what's going on, and there on the TV is the report about Ecto being taken to hospital in critical condition. Power Loader is frozen in place for a moment before a coworker snaps him out of it, and he turns to leave - he HAS to get to Ecto. He feels like he can't breathe and sinks to his knees when he realizes it might already be too late.

-At the hospital several days later, Ecto has been stabilized. His agent fends off the worst of the press so that he can have privacy and time to recover. When Ecto is more awake, he refuses to fully acknowledge his missing legs. He does blame himself for not catching the villain though, and he's in a bad headspace, muddled by painkillers and self-deprecation. One day his agent shows up with a stranger in tow, and as he enters the room Ecto turns away and closes his eyes - he doesn't want to deal with anyone today. The agent introduces the man as the head of Prosthe-Tech, the company that will be working with Ecto to make combat-worthy prosthetics. Ecto vaguely acknowledges the man and hears footsteps approach his bed. When someone places a hand on Ecto's arm he pulls away and snaps at them, but then stops when he sees who it is. Power Loader greets him with nothing but relief on his face, and Ecto can't help but smile.

-Ecto's recovery is slow. Since Power Loader is currently working for Prosthe-Tech as a temporary gig, he's constantly by Ecto's side while his wounds heal. It's revealed that the doctor's couldn't reattach his legs because they couldn't find them, but there's very little other info about the incident. When it's time for Ecto to get measured for his prosthetics, he finally has to face his loss. He breaks down, and Power Loader holds him while he cries hard.

-Later, Ecto's finally healed enough that he's been fitted with prosthetics, and has been trying out various styles that Prosthe-Tech makes to see what will work for him. Power Loader's been tailing him throughout his rehab and physical therapy, taking notes on everything. Ecto is frustrated because he's in pain and none of the prosthetics work quite like he needs them to. The thought that he can't be a hero anymore starts to creep in, and he loses his motivation - Power Loader's the only reason he's even trying anymore.

-One day Ecto's going through his physical therapy like usual when Power Loader presents him with a set of combat prosthetics that he made specially for him. The head of Prosthe-Tech scolds Power Loader harshly about the peg-leg style design, but Ecto puts him in his place and insists on trying them. It takes a while to get used to them, but after a couple weeks Ecto reaches a point where he feels like the rehab treadmill is too easy. After a round of testing to check his progress, he slips away and heads to a nearby room set up with various obstacles meant for people at the very end of their recovery. Despite the objections of his nurses, his agent, and everyone else, he takes off running. He maneuvers the first few obstacles easily enough, and is delighted when he's able to catch himself from falling after a stumble. It gives him a boost of confidence, and as he turns he sees a rock wall with nearby targets hanging from the ceiling meant for people with flying quirks. He still ignores the shouting from his nurses and takes off, scaling the wall to the top before launching himself off and landing a solid kick on the closest target, knocking it to the floor. He's out of practice, but manages a passable roll as he hits the floor, coming to a stop. His heart's pounding as he turns and walks back towards the group, who's staring at him with their mouths hanging open. The head of Prosthe-Tech start to commend him but Ecto pushes right past him and engulfs Power Loader in a tight hug, giving him a tearful thank-you. Power Loader returns the hug, and they have a nice moment together as if no one else was around.

-Now that Ecto has prosthetics that fit his needs, his recovery speeds up a lot - he's able to use his clones to help work on muscle memory and get back into fighting shape. He still struggles with pain and self-doubt, but Power Loader is around to offer moral support and make adjustments to the prosthetics as needed. During downtime when the two are resting after therapy or while Power Loader is working on the prosthetics, Ecto struggles to come up with a way to tell Power Loader how he feels - he's unsure if their past fling meant anything or if they're just friends. He fights a LOT with his feelings, and when Power Loader has to leave because his contract with Prosthe-Tech is up, Ecto has a hard time saying goodbye. At the airport, Power Loader teases him like he did at the train station several years ago, but Ecto's smile disappears as soon as Power Loader does. 

-Ecto gets back into hero work, but he struggles with his pain and has a hard time keeping up with his peers. He's in constant contact with Power Loader which helps, but he eventually feels like there's no point in trying to continue hero work - he just can't fight the way he used to. After a long night laying in bed awake, he makes up his mind. He goes to Power Loader's apartment and breaks down, saying he can't do this anymore. He cries hard again, exhausted enough that he falls asleep. He wakes up on the couch in Power Loader's arms, and doesn't want to move. Eventually his legs are sore enough that he has to (he fell asleep with his prosthetics on) and Power Loader makes him some tea and brings him a damp washcloth to wipe his face and legs after removing his prosthetics. Ecto is ashamed of himself for giving up, but Power Loader offers support and comfort. 

-Ecto calms down some, and asks Power Loader what he’s been up to. Power Loader talks about how he's looking into becoming a teacher - it would give him the opportunity to work with support items in the way he's always wanted, and he could be the support teacher he wishes he had while in school. The conversation drifts, and Ecto can't help but find himself wanting to confess how he feels about Power Loader. He awkwardly tries to steer the conversation in that direction. He brings up their fling from several years ago, asking Power Loader if that meant anything. Power Loader reluctantly admits that he was head-over-heels for Ecto - and still is, much to Ecto's surprise. After realizing the feeling is mutual, they have a laugh about it and snuggle up together, talking about little nothings until they fall asleep on the couch.

-In the morning, Power Loader wakes up to see that Ecto is gone - but he left a note. Ecto arrives at the local news station in full hero attire to make an announcement to the public. The air is tense as he explains that he's stepping down from trying to become a top hero - he talks about his struggles and how hard it's been, but also about the support he's received - and if someone can make that much of a difference to him, why can't he do the same for others? He reveals that he's stepping down to become a heroics teacher, which is met with overwhelming approval. As Ecto is heading out of the news station with his agent, Nezu approaches him about an opportunity at UA. 

-Later on after Ecto has been working at UA for a while, Power Loader has finished his teaching certificate (Ecto got a fast pass from Nezu, since he was already a pro-hero of high ranking) and has applied at UA to become the support teacher. He does well at both his verbal interview and teaching assessment, but because of the huge focus on heroics at UA he has to pass a combat test. He debuts his power frame for the first time here (he's used it for general testing, but not much hands-on combat yet) and Nezu has him face off against 3 of the staff at UA to see his fighting skills.

-His first match is against Midnight. He barely gets a chance to try his power frame because Midnight gets carried away, knocking him out with her quirk very quickly. Since he's asleep and unable to keep fighting, he loses this round.

-His second match is against Cementoss. He fumbles with his fighting style indoors. He's getting a better handle on things until Cementoss surrounds him in a concrete barrier, rendering him immobile. Though Power Loader manages to crack the cement, he can't get out and has to yield.

-His third match is against Eraserhead, but as Eraserhead steps towards the outdoor arena, Ecto cuts him off. Ecto questions what would be the point of Eraserhead being his opponent if he'll just negate Power Loader's quirk and defeat him instantly? He argues that the point of these combat tests are to see how Power Loader does in a fight. Eraserhead agrees, saying that how quickly Power Loader is defeated can be a perfectly valid way to test him. Eraserhead also accuses Ecto of wanting to go easy on Power Loader because the two are friends. They butt heads and Nezu has to step in. He allows Ecto to be Power Loader's last opponent, much to Eraserhead's chagrin.

-As Ecto steps in the ring, he warns Power Loader that he's not going to go easy on him. Power Loader seems to be considering something. When Ecto reminds him that this is his last round and he needs to make it count, Power Loader just smiles mischievously. As soon as the fight starts Power Loader surprises Ecto by rushing him. Ecto starts to manifest clones, the first of which Power Loader obliterates with a swipe of his massive power frame hand. Ecto regains his composure and fights back. While trying to deal with clones darting in an out, Power Loader can't react fast enough and Ecto lands a hit, knocking the wind out of him. He reminds Power Loader that he won't go easy on him, and to prove his point he manifests more clones, surrounding Power Loader. They quickly close in but Power Loader turns several of them away by dragging his hand across the ground in an arc, sending a huge spray of dirt and rock. By the time Ecto and his clones recover, Power Loader has dug his way underground. 

-Ecto spreads his clones out quickly and stands still, trying to locate Power Loader. One clone takes a step towards where he thinks Power Loader is and is caught off guard when a massive hand bursts from the ground and grabs onto the clone, dragging it under where it's smothered beneath the dirt. Ecto shudders at the feedback he received before the clone dissipated, but holds his ground. Power Loader makes a few blind grabs, but can't tell where Ecto is and has to resurface. 

-Power Loader tries to face them down, guarding himself more closely while he takes out Ecto's clones one by one. Ecto is circling him and realizes that Power Loader is trying to make him run out of clones. He spots an opening and darts in but is caught by a backswing of the power frame's massive metal arm, sending him flying. Power Loader cries out because he didn't mean to hit Ecto that hard, but after landing roughly Ecto lets out a huge plume of smoke and manifests his Giant Bites ability. Because of the power frame's extended reach, Power Loader is able to catch the giant clone by its jaws - just barely. It bares down on him and a warning light comes on in Power Loader's helmet. The mechanism in one of the metal arms gives out just before Power Loader yanks the giant clone to the side, throwing it to the ground. It explodes into a massive burst of smoke. While Power Loader is trying to regain his bearing, Ecto rushes out of the smoke, pinning Power Loader to the ground and demanding that he yield. Power Loader tries to get up but there's sharp pain in his shoulder. He yields, and Ecto staggers away as the UA staff approach them.

-Everyone is impressed by the way Power Loader held his own against Ecto, even though he lost. Power Loader tries to get up again, and realizes he dislocated his shoulder when the mechanism in his power frame arm gave out. Cementoss helps set his shoulder and Recovery Girl heals him up with a quick smooch. Ecto requests aid as well, revealing that when Power Loader sent him flying it broke several ribs and gave him a nasty bruise. Power Loader apologizes profusely even after Recovery Girl heals him up. Power Loader and Nezu have a quick chat to summarize his interview, but the two leave not knowing if Power Loader got the job or not. 

-At home, Power Loader is being extra cautious with Ecto and keeps apologizing for hurting him. Ecto reassures him, and they have dinner together as they talk about how the interview went. Power Loader isn't feeling great about it, and Ecto isn't sure what to think; he’s worried he might have messed it up for Power Loader.

-The next morning, Power Loader continues trying to baby Ecto the moment he wakes up. Ecto keeps insisting he's fine, just more hungry than usual. Later in the day they pick up their mail, and Ecto presents an envelope to Power Loader - it's an acceptance letter, welcoming him to the staff at UA!

--

there are more scenarios that I've toyed with, including

-PL's mom coming by for a surprise visit, and PL having to explain that he and Ecto are partners/dating

-Ecto having a second encounter with the bone-lady that took his legs

-Private civil union scene that I dunno if I want to keep or not

-Ecto and PL visiting PL's mom in the country, with Ecto getting to know her neighbors and see PL in the kind of environment he grew up in (I headcanon that he was a country bumpkin who was really good at techy stuff - his mom works with cars/farm equipment and his interest in cars came from helping her fix things as he grew up) There’s some backstory about PL's siblings (that he didn't grow up with) and PL's mom struggling with her own issues and how it affected the way she raised PL. There’s also some backstory about Ecto's parents and why they're not really part of his life anymore, followed by PL's mom telling Ecto how proud she is of him then hurrying off to make them breakfast when Power Loader wakes up.

-Ecto feeling bad that PL keeps dropping his projects to take care of Ecto, and PL revealing that he almost did something really stupid when he was in high school because of how hopeless he felt, but after meeting Ecto it changed everything for the better. Ecto talks about how if PL wasn't there to help him through losing his legs, he isn't sure where he'd have ended up. Kinda sappy bit about how they saved each other from themselves.

[bruh-haikyuu]

Waaaaaaah!!! I really liked you (internecine/oikawa tooru)!!! Can I ask for a part two? What happened with s/o-chan? Her ex(not Oikawa) is dangerous? Will Oikawa discover the truth? Thanks for writing so well!

A/N: DAMN THE SEQUEL YALL BEEN WAITING FOR dabbled with a smidge of iwaizumi x reader ;)) HANA THIS IS FOR US OIK SUCKERS I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY

sequel to this

querencia. | oikawa tooru

word count: 5437

warnings: blackmail and angst! (+slight gaslighting)

(n.) a place from which one’s strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self

Iwaizumi knows Oikawa was strict when it came to volleyball. He knows how riled up he gets whenever he does solo practices. Although that focus came with Oikawa’s obliging reticence, the absence of noise was really pissing him off.

“Oikawa, let’s go, dude. We have to lock up soon or the Discipline Committee will chew us out again.”

He noticed a slight glance from the captain’s sepia pools but Oikawa Tooru kept his lips sealed. This guy… Iwaizumi grimaced. “Hey, I know you heard me. Don’t give your old lady grey hairs by coming home late all the time. Let’s go.”

“Hey, Iwa-chan, are you devoted to anything?”

Iwaizumi hid a relieved expression. At least Oikawa was finally saying something in full rather than the half-assed responses he’d been giving out the past month.

“Huh? What’re you trying to say? Of course I’m devoted. To volleyball!” Iwaizumi didn’t mean to sound angry, but looking at his best friend’s current state, he couldn’t help but to clench in frustration.

The blue and yellow ball rebounded from the polished hardwood floors into the setter’s expecting grip. “…Was it that? The problem. My ‘devotion’?”

Iwaizumi scratched the back of his neck in earnest before grabbing Oikawa’s wrist to drag him away from the fluorescent spotlight of the gym. Heaving two school bags over his shoulder with his limp friend on the other, Iwaizumi grumbled.

“I don’t get any of the shit you’re saying.”

Iwaizumi lied. He knew exactly what Oikawa was talking about.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Being in the Library Committee came with its own perks.

A peaceful workplace to drown yourself in your own thoughts

Full privilege to a lineup of all the volumes of Hirunaka no Ryuusei

Being the one and only member of the Library Committee

You had always enjoyed the tranquility that the magnificent atrium of papers offered—not a lot of people scourged for outdated reference books anyway. It was a welcoming interlude from your hectic life… Especially with your current state of affairs. But your head was stubbornly rejecting peace.

If it had been a couple months ago, Oikawa Tooru would have been sneaking into the library to avoid getting his head bashed in by Iwaizumi for being ‘too good at Old Maid’. He would have groaned and whined, subtly asking for your attention to make it all better. You would have refused, a blush betraying your response. Either way you would’ve surrendered to a single kiss after all.

The impression seemed so distant despite it being so recent.

Oikawa Tooru could find someone better than you. Someone who didn’t have this mess piled up upon their shoulders. Someone who wasn’t stupid enough to have dated an obsessive, creepy bastard.

You were so sure of the thought… but why do you keep remembering the taste of Oikawa’s lips lingering on yours? It had always suggested a hint of peaches and tropical mango juice. Flavors that had sparked fireworks in the depths of your belly.

In the end, you decided you would stop by Lawson’s after your duties to buy a mango ICE MONSTER bar. Just for the sake of the memory.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Ah. L/N-san.”

You cursed yourself to a million deaths. What on Earth did you pull to get karma this big? You were sure the constant suppression and cold shoulders from school were enough to cover for your sins against their volleyball superstar. But to encounter said superstar’s best friend at the convenience store (especially with your theatrical “baton pass” to him a month prior) was beyond your gravest punishments.

“I-Iwaizumi-san! Funny to see you here.”

“Ain’t this the only convenience store in the area though?”

God, you idiot. Just can’t keep your mouth shut, can you?

In the deserted frozen food aisle, two Aoba Johsai third years stood faced off with one another. If it were one of your younger brother’s RPG games, Iwaizumi would’ve been an impossibly matchless boss level—emanating all sorts of auras that screamed ‘INDOMITABLE’. And you? A level one player with only a wooden stick at your siege.

Crossing his arms, he huffed. “Anyway, L/N-san, I wanted to talk to you about—”

You prepared yourself for another blow like always. He was probably going to talk about that. But this time, your legs acted faster.

“Um, I have to go! Goodbye, Iwaizumi-san!”

“Huh? Hang on a sec! L/N-san!”

Iwaizumi Hajime, ace of Aoba Johsai Boys’ Volleyball Club, was chasing you. Why was he chasing you?! Your head spun with images of him cutting you up into pieces to serve for Oikawa’s breakfast, lunch and dinner. Merciless. Brutal. Vile. Was this his way of getting you back for dumping Oikawa on his shoulders?

You let out a small shriek, zipping past a bicycle parked horizontally on the sidewalk. Maybe with his large size, Iwaizumi would have to slow down a bit, giving you a chance to—

Vaulting over the bicycle, Iwaizumi only became hairs closer to your hurrying form. “Wait! L/N-san!”

“Please don’t kill me!” You sobbed, turning into a corner. “I have a family I still want to come home to!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he yelled, the hoarseness of his voice striking horror in your legs. “You didn’t pay for your ice cream!”

“Ha?!”

After dropping off 195 yen on the shop counter and dutifully bowing your head to the cashier at least ten times, Iwaizumi escorted you to the store’s entrance, the light amber of the sky gracing his stern features. For a moment, Iwaizumi Hajime, ace of Aoba Johsai Boys’ Volleyball Club, seemed like a normal high school boy instead of the terrifying column of pure muscle.

“Sorry for chasing you like that… You got the wrong idea and everything too,” he chuckled, low vibrations bobbing in his Adam’s apple.

“It was my fault too,” you cringed, head empty with only the thought of your animalistic instincts kicking in to take you away from ‘danger’. “I was just shocked that anyone would talk to me right now.”

“…Is that so… B-by the way…”

You almost forgot that you had run away just as he was about to beat you to a pulp with his words. You held your breath, feet rooted in place now that you had learned that there was no way you could beat an ace in races.

“We’re on Cleaning Duty tomorrow, right? Don’t forget and bail on me like that asshole Takahashi does.”

Gradually, you felt a World’s Biggest Idiot crown settle on your head. You breathed through your nose and muttered a sullen “yes, yes” before turning around and going your own fine way home. Of course, after apologizing once more to Iwaizumi for making him chase you distances just so you would pay for your treat.

Watching your back shrink into the golden horizon, Iwaizumi scratched his head, heart heavy with the weight your words carried. He probably shouldn’t have stalled his real question to you like that.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Becoming the enemy of Aoba Johsai’s general public didn’t seem so bad at first. At least they weren’t doing all the malicious shoujo manga-esque type of torture. No carved out voodoo dolls or vandalized tabletops.

But the thought didn’t make your sentence seem lighter.

When you had been with Oikawa, everyone suddenly wanted to get to know you. To eat lunch with you. To invite you to hangouts. Now that you’ve broken him, your only worthy punishment was to be broken tenfold.

How cowardly of me. You scowled, the contours of the broom handle etching itself on your palms. I don’t even know if half of Daisuke’s threats were real…

If the texts hadn’t sounded so genuine, you would have probably been laughing it off with Oikawa right now. But you weren’t. And that made you hate yourself for it.

“L/N-san, you okay?”

Pulled back into reality by your ever placid Cleaning Duty partner, you cleared your throat and swept the remaining bits of grime onto the fluorescent green dustpan.

“Y-yeah. I’m alright,” you said eyes flickering from his sharp ones.

Iwaizumi must’ve had some sort of sixth sense because his doubting gaze did not falter the slightest. “Really? You seem especially off today, though. You hungry or something?”

Now he was toying with you. “No I’m not.”

As if it had been cued, your stomach growled and you gritted your teeth in defeat. Stupid, stupid digestion.

“If you’re free after this, I’ll treat you to lunch. We need to talk about some unfinished matters, L/N-san.”

“But—”

“It’s about Oikawa.”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

The scent of pork and shoyu weaved into your senses, blinding you with flavor. In the midst of burly men and hearty-looking meals plastered in bold in the quaint shop’s menu, a small high school girl like you did not mingle well with her surroundings.

Sitting across from you was Iwaizumi, attention pinned on a flimsy laminated piece of paper with a list of ramen that seemed to drone on and on. In the heat of the place, both of you had shed your blazers, draping them over the back of your rickety seats. Seeing Iwaizumi’s sleeves rolled up, you shivered at the thought of what those arms could do to you if you had run away from him again.

“Master, I’ll have the Aka Tonkotsu ramen today. Large with extra pork slices as always,” he piped up, catching the brisk nod of the shop owner from the corner of his work station. “How ‘bout you, L/N-san?”

“Um… a glass of mineral water, please. Iced.”

The ramen master and Iwaizumi’s faces twisted into expressions of concern and offense. You were sure you had attracted the attention of few others too with your order… but what was so wrong with just having water though? It wasn’t like you really enjoyed ramen. And your visit here wasn’t really much of your choice…

“Come on, you have to have the ramen here. I’m paying anyway,” Iwaizumi wanted to add in a comment that the prices at this particular shop were extravagantly affordable, but he chose to miss out on that. “Do you like spicy food?”

“I suppose I do—”

Iwaizumi grinned knocking on the wooden table to gain the master’s attention once more. “Make that two large bowls of Aka Tonkotsu, Master!”

You sputtered, ears barely registering his words. “L-large? Iwaizumi-san, I won’t be able to finish that!”

“Huh? Why not though? Your stomach growled really loudly back at school, I’m sure you’ll down the entire thing in seconds. But it’d mostly be caused by how good the ramen here is.”

You noticed how the ramen master’s ears flashed a bright pink. Seriously, how blatant can this guy be with his words… You were sure with the way Iwaizumi talked, he could either have all the girls in Japan swooning over his honesty or have everyone else throwing nasty glances at him. You fell into the latter category.

“About Too—” you paused, although insistent on breaking the frosty wall between the both of you. “Oikawa. I-is he doing well?”

“Well he’s obviously acting more differently than he used to,” Iwaizumi replied in blunt, hands centered on trying to pull the modest pair of wooden chopsticks apart cleanly. Snap. A small chunk of the second chopstick had awkwardly stuck with the first; Iwaizumi frowned. “Why’re you asking? Didn’t you guys break up?”

You puffed out fumes from your nose indignantly. “Aren’t you the one who invited me here to talk about him? Iwaizumi-san, if you’re not going to say anything important I’d rather leave than have you toy with my time.”

Iwaizumi’s hand reached out to scratch his nape—an old habit you had noticed from him countlessly in class, especially when he seemed nervous. “Alright, alright. Geez… don’t tell anyone about it but I’m worried about Oikawa. Trust me, I can tell when he’s being serious about practicing volleyball and when he’s just plain… letting loose. I suspected it had something to do with you because all he’s been doing is mope around like a beaten dog after you dumped him.”

You gulped.

“Why did you break up with him? I know he could be a crappy jerk with volleyballs for brains, but I know he won’t put his ambitions over someone he cares about—he learned that from his first relationship. So why did you do it? Was he finally getting on your nerves too? Or did you get bothered by his fanclub?”

Your hands gripped your skirt until your knuckles turned white. Iwaizumi definitely wasn’t the first person to drop the question on you. But that didn’t make you less nervous whenever you had to respond. Deciding to dodge the bullet like always, you went for a simple “it’s complicated”.

“Two large bowls of Aka Tonkotsu ramen, one with extra pork slices!” the ramen master announced, a bell of dismissal to your relief. “Plus a glass of iced water for the young miss.”

Watching the master limp back to his post, you didn’t notice Iwaizumi sprinkle a dollop of chili powder into his bowl, his sharp gaze cutting through your body. “Whatever. I’ll get it out of you one way or another. You wouldn’t have told me to take care of Oikawa if it wasn’t a serious problem.”

You slipped a stray strand of hair behind your ear, picking up your own chopsticks in the process. Despite the fear that pooled in your stomach from Iwaizumi’s promise, you couldn’t help to anticipate for a person to share the heinous truth with. Murmuring a soft “thank you for the food”, you decided that the truth belonged to another day and enjoyed your meal in silence.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Apparently, Iwaizumi did see your mouth forming the request. When he had brought it up at the ramen shop, you felt your entire universe fall apart at its core. You wanted to punch yourself for even thinking up such an shameless action. Whispering to him to take care of someone he spent his life tackling was useless. Pressing your face into your pillow, you wondered if you could sleep yourself to dematerialization.

Tugging you out from your misery, your cell phone vibrated in vigor before dropping still on your bedside table.

From: Unknown

Subject: This is Iwaizumi Hajime

09:34 PM

Yo. It’s Iwaizumi, save my number ok? I hope you enjoyed the ramen. Did you get home safe?

Right. You and Iwaizumi had exchanged numbers after he had paid an amazingly cheap price for the ramen. The surprisingly succulent ramen that had you gulping down the bowl until it was drained—just like what he’d promised. You’d hate to admit he was right so soon though…

To: Iwaizumi Hajime

Re: [This is Iwaizumi Hajime]

09:36 PM

Thanks for the ramen ^_^~ Also, I got home in one piece, so don’t worry about it.

A few moments after you had pressed the send button, another text came flying into your inbox. Two texts. From two entirely different contacts. The first one was Iwaizumi’s.

From: Iwaizumi Hajime

Subject: You didn’t answer my question

09:36 PM

About our topic of discussion today… are you going to tell me the truth or not? I don’t want to pry it out of a girl, it’d be rude assuming we’ve only started to officially talk today. But just so you know, I won’t give up until I know the reason. It pisses me off to see Oikawa so moody every day. I hope you’ll understand.

Your fingers hovered over your keyboard for a few moments too long to string together a coherent reply. Iwaizumi was a prime example of trust and valour. Sure, you had considered yourself a knight after ‘protecting Oikawa from your dangerous ex-boyfriend’, but now you just seemed like a jerk.

Scrolling over to see the second text loitering in your messages, you felt your blood vessels tighten. The sender’s name was seven syllables long. Seven syllables that you had hoped to never have to thread together ever again.

From: Masayuki Daisuke

Subject: None

09:36 PM

I knew you’d listen to me, Y/N-chan~ You were always such an obedient one, such a good girl. Now that that good-for-nothing playboy has his hands off you, we can be together right? Of course, we’ll have to wait until you graduate high school but that’s just a matter of time.

We’ll get married, Y/N-chan. I’ll make you as happy as you can ever be, even if we have to elope. I’ll even buy us a house in Tokyo, just where you wanted… You made a right decision to leave Oikawa, if you didn’t, I know it’d make you suffer just being in his presence. You belong with me, Y/N-chan, not with anyone above our insignificant roles. He’d make you feel small for the rest of your life… but I’m here for you.

I hope you won’t be unfaithful to me as we count down to the days when we shall begin our lives together. I love you~

Your lips curled into a flat line. All the blood had drained from your fingertips, leaving the fluorescent light of your cell phone to eerily illuminate through the limpid skin. You wanted to vomit, to wail, to look for and tell someone. But who? You couldn’t possibly run and cry to Oikawa. Hell, Iwaizumi and your ‘friends’ were out of the question. And your parents would overreact, making matters worse.

“I hate this,” you grunted, tossing your phone onto the couch across your bed. Maybe you could sleep it off like you usually did. Alas, you didn’t seem to receive a wink of sleep at all. This is bad, you finally admitted.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Iwaizumi Hajime had made it a habit (and a nuisance) to stumble in the library or other parts of the area after school to drag you to the ramen shop and fruitlessly attempt to wring even a droplet of truth from you. On the bright side, the food was always tasty, and you had adapted yourself to genuinely enjoy ramen as a delicacy. Plus, when it came to Iwaizumi’s savory bribes, you never even had to think about pulling your wallet out of your pocket!

Throughout the course of your ‘interrogations’, you had also learned that Iwaizumi was just an awkward puppy hiding beneath a shell of a raucous yankii. Of course, this was all fueled by his concern for his best friend, but nevertheless, you discovered that it didn’t take much to revert the almighty volleyball ace into a flustered mess of a high schooler.

You came to realize why Oikawa loved to tease him to the brim. And why they had stuck together for so long. In fact, if Iwaizumi had been a girl, you were dead sure that Oikawa would pick him over you—he was everything you weren’t and so much more…

Idiot, how long has it been already? Stop thinking about things like that, you braced yourself. Slapping yourself with the leather-bound cover of a weathered Chemistry textbook, you diverted your focus back on the cart of new books you were supposed to arrange.

Quiet hours in the library was especially your favorite time, of course, until Iwaizumi had recently interrupted it with persistence despite his prior knowledge that your duties wouldn’t end until half an hour later. Another trait of his, you had come to realize, was that he was unbearably annoying when he didn’t get what he wanted.

Hearing the clack of the library door’s swing (though much quieter than Iwaizumi’s usual loud shove), you scowled, eyes twitching in annoyance.

“Iwaizumi-san, for the last time! Stop coming in here if you’re not going to read or borrow a book. And don’t ask me the same question over and over again, I can’t tell you why it happened because it’s too—”

Crap.

You felt your heart jump at the sight of a pair of umber eyes that roused an emotion from deep within your memory. You almost didn’t recognize him. He looked taller, much more sturdy. And way too drained.

“Y-Y/N-chan,” Oikawa murmured, your name dripping honey on his tongue like it always had.

You didn’t even stop yourself from calling him by his name. “Tooru…”

You swore you could lock eyes with him for eons. Subtle glances in the hallway didn’t compare to being in Oikawa’s light. When you were with him, he made you feel warm. You missed that warmth. You missed him.

“What are you doing here?” you managed to sputter, eyelids freezing up.

When he broke from your gaze, you felt your heart plummet and shatter. “I just needed to look for a reference book for my English homework.”

It hurt. When you were dating, Oikawa never let the both of you dwindle in silence. He knew silence sickened you to the stomach. When you had broken up with him, he didn’t let silence waver over him either. But having the absence of noise barricading you from him, you felt cold.

“A-ah, you must mean Ogawara-sensei’s literary task…” you murmured, drinking in the appearance of his face, tracing pre-existing etches of it in your head. “Do you want me to help you look for them?”

How stupid of you to ask. Oikawa basically had the map of the library emblazoned on the back of his hand. You would know—it all came from the secret rendezvous he’d pull you into while you still had deemed yourself worthy of being loved by him.

“That would be nice,” he smiled shyly.

You led him into a warmly lit section pulsing with the livelihood of foreign words. Gliding between the wide space between the shelves, your fingers slipped through the seams across the books. It didn’t take you more than 2 minutes to locate a volume spilled with the wisdom you needed to ace Ogawara-sensei’s class.

“William Faulkner? I thought you didn’t enjoy those kinds of works,” Oikawa murmured, almost teasing as he thumbed through the fragrant pages of ink.

Eyes tracing the lettering of ‘A Rose for Emily’, you said, “I don’t particularly dislike this one. Tragic endings aren’t my cup of tea, but the romance really sucks you in.”  

“I almost forgot how much of a shoujo otaku you were,” he chuckled, laughter like small bells tinkling in the soft wind. “You always look so serious, but figuring out that you were a sap was the funniest part.”

You puffed out your cheeks indignantly, “It’s not like I can help it! You want me to help you or not? Geez…”

Oikawa’s laughter ruptured in the great expanse, a contagious feeling bubbling in your throat. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just— it’s nice to see you again, that’s all…”

Your heart burst into streams of golden confetti, drawing universes within your chest like Oikawa used to do. He was always more different with you. Less fake, more genuine. More honest. You still hadn’t figured out why he’d go after you, especially with all the pretty girls willing to throw themselves in front of a train for him. You didn’t even have enough guts to ignore your ex-boyfriend.

All the wondering made you dizzy, you wanted to sit down, but Oikawa’s desolate eyes chained you to your spot. Iwaizumi was right. He looked like he had thrown himself across the gym a couple times before staying wide awake for 48 hours. As much as you hated to admit, you wanted to help him.

“Tooru, I’m—”

“Found you!” Both of your heads snapped towards the library entrance, blasted open haphazardly by a burly third year student.

“Iwaizumi-san!”

“Iwa-chan?”

A sly grin crept up the boy’s features, making him look more of an ogre than usual. You felt an uneasy lump dissolving in the pits of your stomach, from the corner of your eye, you spotted Oikawa slumping in what seemed to be defeat.

“Just as planned. Now, anyone hungry for ramen?”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

This was by far the most quiet meal you’ve had with Iwaizumi and Oikawa—combined and separately. You didn’t even dare to excuse yourself to the restroom. You haven’t even touched your food either, for all you knew, it was probably already cold.

On the other hand, Iwaizumi was already stuffing his face with today’s special lobster ramen. “What’s wrong, L/N? Ain’t hungry? It’s your favorite dish too.”

Your brows pointed downwards in an annoyed scowl. Iwaizumi wasn’t known to be the best at reading situations anyway. You kicked his shin below the sunken space beneath the table, taking care that Oikawa wasn’t looking.

“Right! Nearly forgot,” if Iwaizumi hadn’t been someone who towered over you, you would’ve pestered him for being such a nuisance. “I damn hope you know why you’re both here.”

You gulped, cheeks reddening at the mention.

“Sorry, is there something I should know about?” Oikawa smiled faintly, a heavy air of concern draped over his shoulders. Sweat began to clump in your palms.

“Ha? Of course you do! You’ve gotta know why L/N broke up with you, right?”

“I-Iwa-chan! I don’t think that’s appropriate to talk about right now. I know for whatever reason Y/N-chan’s got for it, it’s a respectable choice.” Liar. You know I was just being a coward for not telling you, you pursed your lips.

“It’s only respectable until we know what it is,” Iwaizumi boomed, eyes boring into your shrinking figure. “Things don’t just happen for a reason, right, L/N? It’s okay if you tell us.”

“…”

“L/N, it’s for Oikawa’s good. Didn’t you say you wanted him to be happy?”

“Stop that, man. Don’t force her,” Oikawa’s tone wavered between anguish and warning. You almost wanted to leap into his arms. He was so close, sitting right next to you, but for some reason he felt miles away. “But…”

Sucking in a deep breath, you blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. “I don’t—”

The shrill ring of your phone shattered the torrential dilemma that hung in the air. Glancing at the number, you paled to the tips of your toes, all color lost from your skin. No, no, no, no. Not here. Not now.

Throwing your school bag over your shoulder, you stood shakily, hand gripping your phone like a vice. “I-I have to go.”

Turning your back on the two boys, you quickly hurried out the door of the shop, hands too tremulous to drop a tip in the glass jar adorning the entrance. He shouldn’t be here. Why was he here? You’ve had enough. No more. Hanging around Oikawa and Iwaizumi was a deadly mistake you’d swore you’d never repeat. But you were a mere mortal who fell too easily to the temptations of forbidden love. A love you could never have.

“Y/N-chan!” a plush hand wrapped itself around your elbow, throwing you back against a solid wall of warmth. A distinct scent of peaches and mango juice pressed against the crown of your hair, a familiarity you would be forced to pry yourself from.

“Tooru, please…” a single drop escaped your quivering eyes, rolling down your cheek, clumping at your chin. “I can’t do this. You have to let me go.”

“At least tell me what I did wrong. Was I not devoted enough? Did I offend you in some way? Or did you find someone else…?” The bob of his throat wobbled against your head. “I’m sorry that I loved you. I’m sorry.”

To hell with it. Turning in his grasps, you looked into his glassy hues, shining with tears, laced with the afterglow of genuine affection. For you.

“Don’t you ever apologize for loving someone. If someone has to apologize, it’s me!” you barked at him, tears streaming down your face, hot in its trail. “I made a mistake for loving the wrong person. I’m sorry I had feelings for such a psychopath. This was before I met you. Now he’s out to get us and it’s all my fault…”

You paused, burying your face into his uniform, taking in the deep pitter patter of his heart.

“I’m scared, Tooru… He’s been sending threats to me. I don’t want him to hurt you… Please, help me,” you sobbed, ignoring the incoming echo of a lone walker approaching the scene.

“Y/N-chin?”

Dark eyes stared back at yours, emptiness filling it, only a murderous aura emanating from the figure. You watched as Daisuke’s fist closed, veins popping for the world to see. You wondered how your day could get any worse.

“Traitor! You left that bastard just to run back to him?!” he growled against the silent backdrop of the market district. “I promised you a life where you wouldn’t have to feel so inferior. I sincerely love you, Y/N. Why can’t you understand that we’re the type of people who can’t fit in with assholes like… him.”

When Oikawa stepped between the both of you, you felt your heart drop and hang dangerously on a thin string held together by your prayers. “Are you the guy who’s been threatening Y/N-chan the whole time?”

Daisuke turned to you, leering viciously. “Oh, so I’m the bad guy? Don’t do this to me, Y/N-chin. You belong with me. You know that.”

“She doesn’t belong to anyone. Leave her alone, she obviously doesn’t want to be with you.”

A quick gleam of a silver blade caught the gentle light of the setting sun and you felt your mouth go dry. Before a scream could escape your mouth, a vivid thud then a crunch thundered in your ears. You didn’t even want to open your eyes. You didn’t think you could even see with the flood of tears clustering your vision.

“Y/N-chan? Y/N-chan! It’s okay,” Tooru. “It’s okay now. I-I knocked him out.”

Wrenching your eyes wide, you saw Oikawa crouched next to you on the ground, rubbing circles onto your back as he nestled himself in your shoulder. Behind him was Daisuke. Laid spread-eagle on his back, the menacing cutter now seeming so small in his large grip. Next to his bruised head was a single volleyball shoe.

Just about the size of Oikawa’s sock-clad right foot.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

A month later

“Ain’t Captain awfully chipper lately?” Kindaichi muttered to his upperclassmen, balancing a ball on his fingertips, only to have it bounce to the floor in an instant.

Hanamaki, while unlacing the intricate knots adorning the nets, shot the first year an incredulous look. Sighing, he said, “You really haven’t heard at all, haven’t you?”

Kindaichi felt it would be too embarrassing to say. He kept quiet.

“He made up with his girlfriend recently. Turned out, she was being threatened by her psycho of an ex-boyfriend if she didn’t break up with him. The guy’s finally behind bars, so I guess that contributes to it too.”

Kindaichi’s eyes lit up. Oh, he knew about this. “I’ve seen that before on the news! Man, must be pretty scary for Oikawa-san’s girlfriend… I honestly wouldn’t be able to do anything if I were her. That’d put too much mental strain on me.”

From behind him, Matsukawa snickered, ruffling the boy’s hair casually, earning him a dirty look. “Don’t try to compare yourself to L/N-san. The tips of your haircut will catch fire if you had the same amount of stress she did.”

“Grilled Napa Cabbage!”

“Hanamaki-san, don’t tease!”

From the other side of the gym, Oikawa Tooru eyed his phone glassily, his pupils on the verge of forming hearts. It was over. It was finally over. Now he was back to his previous routine, with a dash of something new everyday. Same as always. He loved that always—that always was you.

L/N Y/N: I can’t wait to eat with you and Iwaizumi-san today! Thank you Tooru

Oikawa Tooru: Are you sure you don’t want to eat somewhere we usually do? I was a bit surprised that you invited us to the ramen shop ╮( ˘ ､ ˘ )╭

L/N Y/N: Ehhhh??? Do I have to cancel reservations? Do you want to eat somewhere else??

Oikawa Tooru: Just kidding Y/N-chan~ ☆⌒(ゝ。∂) I want to see how much red peppers you can add to your broth before passing out ☆

L/N Y/N: Mean!! ( `ε´ )

Oikawa Tooru: Ehehe~

“Oikawa, let’s go. L/N’s probably waiting for us already,” Iwaizumi called out from the gym’s doors, mouth nearly frothing at the image of free bowls of ramen that he didn’t have to pay for tonight.

Waving off his best friend, he turned to his screen to type out one last message, a soft smile adorning his face. “Happy birthday, Y/N-chan. I’ll cherish you today, tomorrow and the days after that. Thank you for loving me as me.”

[kalboykiyay]

The Vending Machine

Hello, peeps! Happy Holidays and all that good stuff! I wrote this because this concept amused me a lot but then I ended up with... This hot mess of a fic, based on this shitpost. Hope that this entertains you, or maybe makes you sad or something. Constructive criticism is appreciated!

-----

Nobody had really cared much about the machine, as for the most part, it functioned alright. The only problem it really had was that snacks would get stuck every so often when they were being dispensed.

Swan went to get a snack from the machine once while heading to collect a payment and the pack got stuck. He looked at the machine, unamused. He punched the glass a couple of times, not hard enough to break it, but hard enough that his snack dropped down. He got the snack from the bottom slot and walked away.

Fox and Rembrandt went to the machine to get a couple of snacks a little ways after that incident that on their way up to Little Buddha and Rembrandt's snack got stuck. Fox made a look of mild annoyance before looking at Rembrandt. "Come on, let's go get someone to help us get this bag out," He said, before Rembrandt stood up and the two went to go find someone to help them.

Vermin went to try and get a candy bar from the machine four days after that, and once again, the snack got stuck. He grimaced at the machine, "Are you kidding me?" He shook it a bit causing the candy bar to fall down. He took it from the dispenser before continuing on his way.

The next day, Cochise went to the machine on his way to the Hangout, and his bag of potato chips got caught on the hook. "Aw, shit." He stuck his arm in the slot but to no avail. He kicked the glass a bit and tried to rock the machine. He then shook his head before going to try and find someone that could help him get his bag. He was going to get his bag of chips.

A couple of days after that, Cowboy went to get a snack from the machine, he wasn't having the best day, so he'd hoped that a quick snack would make it slightly better. He grabbed the change from his pocket and put it into the machine, the pack of cookies getting caught on the hook. He sucked his teeth and crouched down to put his arm in the slot. He then realised that the snack wouldn't come down and started to try getting his arm out of the slot, however his arm wouldn't budge. He made an annoyed expression then he tried to change its position, but he couldn't do that without possibly breaking his arm.

"Oh, shit-"

He kept trying to wiggle his arm free, but to no avail. He sat there for a few minutes before he tried one more time to maneuver his arm out, but instead of it coming out of the slot, like he planned, a sharp pain shot through his entire arm, "Ah- Fuck!" He sat down on the concrete; tears running down his face. He couldn't be sure when someone else would walk by, so he was stuck there until somebody did.

Ajax and Vermin walked by and noticed him, "What the hell happened to you?"

Cowboy looked at Ajax, "My arm is stuck in the vending machine! It hurts like hell! Can you help me outta here?"

Ajax looked momentarily concerned before he and Vermin started snickering. "How the fuck did you get your arm stuck in the vending machine?"

"I was trying to get a pack of cookies and it got stuck."

The two then burst out laughing.

"Hey, it's not funny! Whatever, you're not gonna help, so fuck off!" Cowboy said, feeling frustrated tears roll down his cheeks. He didn't like breaking down in front of other people, especially not these two. He put his head on knees, too upset to even bother trying to gather his thoughts.

After the two finished their laughing fit, Ajax stood up, slightly red in the face. He then looked at the kid; his smaller form curled up on the ground, his head resting in his arm. He rolled his eyes. "Hey, Vermin, go find Snow. Pretty sure he's the only one that can use this damn thing without a problem."

"Sure thing, man," Vermin said, before turning and heading back to the Hangout.

Ajax sat down on the ground next to Cowboy, unbeknownst to the smaller guy.

"Hey, pull yourself together," He said, causing Cowboy to look at him slightly. "Vermin went to get Snow to help get you out. You're gonna be alright. Now stop cryin' like a fuckin' wimp."

"If Vermin went to get Snow, why didn't you go with him?" Cowboy asked, sniffling slightly.

"What, and leave you here snivellin' like a little girl? It doesn't take two people to a one-person job." Ajax told him, which seemed to satisfy the younger man. In truth, as much as he teased Cowboy and the others, he didn't like seeing them upset for any reason. They were still his brothers after all. Of course, he'd never tell them that. He knew in the back of his mind that he should swallow his pride and apologise for upsetting him further, but he was not ready to admit that just yet.

"How's your arm anyways?" He asked him, looking at Cowboy's partially visible arm.

"Still hurts like hell..." Came the reply, as he looked up to see Snow approaching with Vermin.

"How did you even manage this?" Snow asked, with a not-at-all surprised tone of voice, as he walked over to get the slot flap unjammed, just enough so that Cowboy could get his arm out.

"I just wanted some cookies. The vending machine didn't like that, I guess," He replied, pulling his arm from the slot and shaking it out in relief; red scratches against his skin where the machine held him in place. "Thanks."

"No problem," Snow said to him. "We should probably get that vending machine fixed or replaced one of these days. Everybody's been having issues with it."

Cowboy stood up and the four looked at the machine. "Yeah, probably. Or someone should put a sign over it that tells people not to use it at least."

"That would work, too. Let's head back," Snow said, before turning to go back to the Hangout; the others following suit.

"Alright, how long are you gonna need before we can start laughing about this without you getting pissy about it?" Vermin asked.

Cowboy rolled his eyes. "I'll give it… eight to ten days."

-----

Look, I'm weak for Ajax and Cowboy's friendship dynamic and how it would work. Ajax may be a little shit, but his relationship to Cowboy is something I could never be against.

[be-gay-do-heists]

OKAY finally finished with eliot hand pain hurt/comfort fic, and i couldn’t actually decide whether i preferred it in second or third person POV, so i’m going to put the second person POV under the cut here, and make a separate post with the other version so folks can read which they prefer. nothing is different between the two besides the POV !

------

Contrary to what the four crazy people you spent your time risking your life for nowadays thought, you didn’t like the pain.

There was nothing cleansing about it, nothing satisfactory. A ringing hit to your jaw didn’t feel like penance. The actual protection aspect was a different story. Standing like a wall between your people and danger, there was nothing that made your ribs ache with pleasure like that; a wall didn’t feel, didn’t think, it was just an immutable fact. You were an immutable fact. The problem was that the wall-as-you, or perhaps the you-as-wall, had to become human again sometime after the last man went down and the last dollar bill was stuffed into a duffel. To hurt was human, and not just to hurt but to remember the wound long, long after, for it to live in your knees and wrists and between the vertebrae in your spine. Some days— and this was a product of how long after a job it had been, how hard you had pushed—some days were worse than others. The fact that some days the first sound out of your mouth wasn’t even a groan, but a whine, or worse the half-awake pleading for please please make it stop i’ll do anything just make it stop—

No, you didn’t like the pain.

Comparatively, today was a good day. Today, you could get out of bed. Your head and body were blessedly in agreement that it was in your best interests to swing your twinging knees to the side of the mattress, push yourself up onto legs that were sore but stable, with arms that shook only slightly. But compared to your best days, the ones where except for the old shoulder injury which would never let you forget it and the scar on your hip that put a hitch in your giddy-up in all kinds of weather, the days on which except for those you sometimes even forgot the pain, this didn’t hold a candle. Today your hands were so beat and weak that the ache radiated up to your mid-forearm, settled into you all familiar-like and made its home in you.

In the bathroom, you used your wrist to turn on the faucet and stuck your mouth under the water to drink. Holding a cup was off the agenda. Your morning routine was interspersed with winces, not unusual for your post-job bathroom adventures, and if it took you longer to shimmy on the sweats you knew you wouldn’t be getting out of today, it made you appreciate the comfort of wearing them a little more.

Going handless was fine until you were face to face with the fridge, and resisting the urge to growl at it, like that would solve anything. Taking a deep breath, you put a hand on the stainless steel handle, testing your grip. A light flex had you drawing it back like the metal had burned you, like someone had snapped a tight clothespin onto each ligament. You took a moment to pace a couple steps, let out a loud but cathartic expletive, and then wedge your hand between the handle and the door so you could open the fridge with your elbow strength. The feeling of triumph behind your collarbone faded quickly as you scanned its contents and realized there was nothing you wanted to eat, or at least nothing you wanted to hold and eat. The thought of grasping a fork brought another growl to your throat, and you slammed the fridge door to stomp to the couch and throw yourself down, cradling your hands in your lap.

You knew the drill: in an hour, you would grit your teeth and get to up to try and fumble open your bottle of painkillers, and if you succeeded, you would wait another hour for them to truly kick in so you could handle the tv remote, put on whatever game was on, and vegetate on the couch until further notice. The phone you had left on your nightstand rang loudly, fully audible from the other room, blaring out the chorus to “Macho Man” that Hardison had put as your ringtone and you hadn’t figured out how to get rid of yet. If it was important, whoever it was would call again, so you ignored it. Your ire rose when the same noise sang out from the bedroom a couple minutes later, a bit-off groan escaping from your clenched teeth as you levered yourself up to get to it as fast as you could, awkwardly accepting the call and maneuvering the phone between your shoulder and ear. “What?”

“Man, we haven’t heard from you since we split yesterday, I thought we were gonna get a beer downstairs last night?”

You rubbed your eyes with your wrist, frustrated that you had forgotten you were supposed to get together with Hardison the night before. Getting home, washing the sweat and blood off, and falling into bed had seemed like the only goal in your mind. “Look, sorry, I’ve been busy. And if this ain’t important, you—“

“Bullshit. Absolute bullshit, you’re using your tough-guy, bullshit voice. And you actually apologized, so something is double wrong.”

You snarled. “I don’t have— Hardison, I don’t know what you’re talking about, just leave me alone.”

“Too late, we’re already at your place.”

Before you could open your mouth, your doorbell rang, drawing a groan from you. If you were correct about who the “we” was, it seemed stupid to even ring it. Your suspicions were confirmed thirty seconds later as the door clicked open anyways and Parker and Hardison came in, having the decency to at least look slightly sheepish. You had already moved back to the couch, tilting your head back and closing your eyes. “Make yourself at home, why don’t you,” you growled.

“Excuse us for being worried about your wellbeing, Mr. Suffer-In-Silence,” Hardison scoffed.

Parker leapt onto the couch cushion next to him. “We thought you might have been captured by ninjas.”

“You would know if I had been captured by ninjas,” you muttered. “It’s a very dis— look, you’ve seen that I’m not kidnapped, it’s our day off, can you please leave and let me rest.”

“You still owe us a hangout from last night!” Parker chirped. “Don’t worry, we won’t stay long.” She vaulted back over the couch to go rummage through your snack cabinets, getting into the granola bin by the sound of it. You made a note to restock it before she came back next.

When you next opened your eyes, Hardison was lightly sitting on your coffee table, looking at the hands still resting in your lap. “What’s up with your hands, Eliot?”

Your first instinct was to deflect. You trusted your team, sure, but this was different. They weren’t supposed to know that you had these days. That you weren’t invulnerable. “Nothing’s wrong with them, stop sitting on my coffee table.”

“Mhm mhm, sure,” Hardison said. “Go like this for me?” He wiggled his fingers in a “hey sailor” kind of fashion. Before you could tell him just what you thought about that, Parker’s ponytail swung into the side of your face, the thief reaching down to poke one of your hands faster than you could stop her.

By the time you were able to refocus and pull yourself back from the whiteout of pain, Parker and Hardison were looking at you with open concern, the hacker leaning back slightly, a little pale. You think you may have howled; you weren’t sure. Both your hands were clenched tightly to your chest, wrists together, arms outward, wishbone shaped. You felt just as brittle as one, with their stares on you. You summoned the anger from your throat, the only weapon at your disposal (only half-expecting that it would work, always defenseless when it came to their prodding).

“Can you leave me the hell alone now?”

Hardison looked at you, taking his time formulating his thoughts, but it was Parker who spoke. “Nope.” You turned to her where she was perched on the couch. “You get hurt taking care of us. Now you let us take care of you.”

You looked at Hardison pleadingly, hoping he at least would take pity on you and let you wallow by yourself. You wanted to hide like the trap-escaped, half-dead badger whose den you had accidentally put your foot into half a lifetime ago in the Italian Alps, earning you an earful of hissing that scared the hell out of you. You wonder if you seemed as belligerent now.

Hardison just shrugged and smiled gently. “Hey, you heard the woman.” He leaned forward slightly, just enough in your space to let you feel his warm presence without crowding. “Couldn’t get rid of us if you tried.”

You didn’t want to try, was the thing. It was only that it wasn’t their job to take care of you. It was yours to take care of them. They just seemed to be wholly unaware of this.

“You taken anything for those yet?” Hardison asked, pointing at your hands. He hummed at your slight head shake. “Thought so. Which ones?”

“White bottle, red pills. Only need a half,” you mumbled, slouching. Parker was already up and heading to the bathroom.

“We need to get something you can actually open when this happens, some kind of spring-loaded catch maybe,” Hardison mused. “Alright, let me see them.” He patted his legs, frowning at your growl. “C’mon, none of that. I know they hurt, I’ll be really, really gentle. I won’t even touch without asking.”

You looked him in the eye for the sincerity you already knew would be there, the eagerness to help that (damn him) was one of your favorite traits of his. Hesitantly, you extended your hands, rolling your eyes at him scooting forward to offer his knees to rest them on.

“I assume you got antiseptic and ointment on these knuckles already, so totally disregarding those, even though it sucks. Nothing broken?”

“No, just. Aches. Like a son of a bitch. Can’t make a damn fist. Happens sometimes.”

Parker bounded back in, armed with a glass of water and half a pill in her open hand. “So no jobs for a while. Easy, I’ll tell Nate. Open up.” With a scowl, you took the medication from her fingers with your teeth (gently, gently), and let her raise the glass to your lips, nearly choking as she tipped it a little eagerly, and choking for real when Hardison said, “Whoa, woman, let him swallow.”

“It’s not just the last job, Park, it’s jobs two years ago, or five, or ten,” you managed, once you had your breath back. “Part of the package that comes with the lifestyle. It just happens sometimes, don’t matter what schedule we’re on.”

She frowned. “Still. We shouldn’t be doing jobs if you’re hurt. Nate should know that.”

Hardison leaned forward a little more while you were distracted trying to find the right response to that, that you wouldn’t be doing any jobs at all if that were the case, that Nate trusted you to get the job done no matter what, reaching out to your forearm and stopping just a hair’s breadth shy of touching. You froze, and he did too, meeting your eyes. “It’s ok. I’m just trying something out. Is it alright if I touch you here?” At your tiniest of nods, the hacker placed his fingertips on your arm, rubbing circles so lightly that you almost couldn’t feel it. “Let me know where it starts to hurt, okay?” Hardison applied the slightest pressure as he added his other hand and lightly started rubbing down your forearm. When he got to your wrist, you couldn’t help the strangled noise that partly escaped through your nose, high and strained. He moved away from it immediately, going back to tracing soothing, gentle patterns. “You’re ok, you’re ok. I can work with this, no problem. Where do you keep your hot pads, man?”

“Bathroom, lower right drawer,” you grit out. Parker was zipping off to get it and warm it up before you could even process. Hardison applied a little more pressure with his fingertips, rubbing the meat of your forearm. You breathed out long and slow at how good it felt once the initial ache had ebbed.

“I want to try giving you a hand massage, but I don’t wanna hurt you more than it would help,” he said, pausing slightly. “You up for it? I’m not gonna pressure you either way.”

Your thoughts stuttered, and then bolted in different directions. The feeling that you didn’t deserve this, that this was too much to ask, which had been simmering this whole time leapt to life again. It joined with the wounded, snarling animal part of you that still wanted to hide, burrow down with the covers over your head until your pain faded into the muted background noise of the world. You didn’t even know if a hand massage would work, it might make the pain worse.

But it might be nice, a small, hopeful part of you murmured. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been offered something like this, let alone the last time you had taken the person up. If there was anyone you trusted to do it, if there was anyone you wanted to receive it from, it was these two. How could you refuse them even when your heart hoped so badly for what they were offering?

“Sure, just…” you said as Parker returned with the hot pad, pausing from tossing it hand to hand like a hot potato to fix her stare on you. You licked your lips, swallowed around a dry throat. “Just be gentle.”

“I will be,” Hardison said earnestly, taking the hot pad from Parker to gently maneuver it under your hands, resting on his knees. You tensed slightly as the thief leapt up onto the back of the couch, perching above your head, but otherwise relaxed as the warmth of the hot pad started to loosen the ache in your hands. Hardison started where he had before, applying the slightest pressure to your forearm. Parker ran her fingertips lightly through your hair, humming.

“Your hair is kinda wonky,” she said, fingers catching on a tangle. You winced.

“That’s what happens when you go to bed without brushing it properly, you know that,” you grumbled, breath hitching as her fingertips grazed your scalp. Your breath stuttered again as Hardison hands started working towards the sore meat of your wrist. Your hand began to shake.

“It’s ok baby, I got you,” Hardison murmured under his breath, more soothing sound than words. You cracked open an eye to see him looking between your hands and his phone, playing a video where it was propped on his thigh.

“Man, are you watching hand massage tutorials right now?” you gritted out, doing a poor job of masking your genuine amusement with frustrated disbelief.

He tapped his index finger against your arm lightly. “I’ve been watching videos dude; think you’re so slick, tryna hide your hand pain from me. I just wanna make sure I get it right in real time.”

Parker’s fingers running through your hair more boldly silenced any follow-up thoughts you had, your mind going fuzzy with how good it felt. Without thinking, you insistently pushed your head up further into her touch, making her laugh. The sound reverberated in your chest, leaving you longing to hear it again. Instead a half-whine left your throat as Hardison probed the bottom of your palm, the ache drawing you back to full awareness.

The hacker backed off for a moment. “Sorry, sorry, you still cool to keep going?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you breathed shakily.

“Just tell me if there’s anyplace else that needs to be handled more delicately, or you don’t want me going at all,” Hardison said, putting his clever hands to yours again and taking up his gentle, slow pace. Parker’s fingers had paused in your hair a second, but went back to running through it again, scratching your scalp on every other pass.

Slowly, slowly, the vice of pain on your hands started to dissipate, bone by bone, finger by finger. You don’t know how long you sat there in a haze, as Hardison and Parker patiently touched you, fixated on the single task of caring for you. The thought made the tender space behind your breastbone twinge. When you surfaced from the half-asleep contentment of their efforts, the television was on, Star Trek playing at the lowest volume. You grunted, lifting your head from the couch to look at them sitting beside you, grinning at your movements. Hardison’s warm hand was still in yours, but instead of massaging he was just holding it softly.

“Hey sleepy,” teased Parker, throwing herself over Hardison to get closer and forcing an “Oof!” out of him.

You looked down to your hands, flexing one experimentally, in disbelief at how the ache had faded to an almost imperceptible hum. With the other you tightened your fingers around Hardison’s hand, moving your thumb lightly over his.

“Hey,” you simply said back, a real smile rising to your lips.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Fifty-Three

Words: 4.5K

Warning(s): explicit language, sexual situations, mentions of drug abuse

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I wake up to the smell of coffee drifting in under the bedroom door, and I stretch, seeing Nikki on his side of the bed, snoring softly.

Pulling the covers off of myself, I get up and throw on my robe to cover my naked body and step into the kitchen to see Karen at the counter.

Karen was Doc's best solution he could muster up to try to keep Nikki straight off drugs.

After calling Doc and Bob Timmons that night Nikki shot out our ceiling, Doc asked Karen, who worked at the Mötley office, to move in.

Hats off to her because she didn't argue, and Nikki did calm down a little when she was there because he was convinced she was a spy for Doc and was telling him what Nikki was doing at all times.

Nikki didnt want to hear shit from Doc, so he tried to hide his drug use from Karen when she was home.

"Good morning." She greets me, patiently waiting for the coffee to get done. "Sorry if I woke you up."

"No, no, it's fine, I needed to get up anyway, uh...what time is it?" I ask her, rubbing my eyes.

"About 9:00." She replies.

"Okay, I'm gonna wake him up and get ready and that reporter should be here around--"

I'm cut off by the doorbell and I look at her.

"You go wake him up, get him showered, I'll stall." She assures me, shooing me with her hand as she steps to open the door."

I rush to our bedroom and shut and lock the door, walking over to wake Nikki up.

"Babe, c'mon."  I nudge at him several times until he's groaning a little. "Nikki, wake up."

"Just climb on and get off when you're finished. I'm sure it'll still get up without me being awake." He mumbles tiredly, about to drift back off before I'm hitting his arm sternly.

"Nikki, you need to wake up. That reporter came early. We need to get dressed."

"Jesus." He lets out, frustrated, and I rub my lips together. His hazel eyes open to look at me and he smirks. "You're actually talking to me today?"

I've been ignoring him for nearly a week now ever since he broke our ceiling and embarrassed me in front of our friends.

"I'm getting into character so he doesn't write that I'm not talking to you in the article. Doc said to be as lovey as possible." I add. "So hurry up."

I walk to our bathroom and start the shower, quickly discarding my clothes and climbing in as he trudges into the bathroom.

By the time I'm rinsing shampoo from my hair, he's getting in, his eyes wandering up and down my naked body that currently has soapy water running down it.

"Don't get any ideas, Sixx, I'm still mad at you."

"What kind of man do you think I am?" He puts a hand over his heart as if he's hurt and I roll my eyes, finishing rinsing my hair.

"Move." I say so I can put conditioner in my hair and he grins, about to switch places with me, and his hands hold at my body as we trade spots and I glare at him.

"What? I was helping you move." He innocently states, the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips, and I cut my eyes at him.

He just wets his hair as I get the tangles out of mine with conditioner and we change once more.

By the time he's rinsing his hair again and I'm lathering up in body wash, I feel his finger trace down my spine.

"Nikki." I say in warning and I hear his faint chuckling.

"Sorry." He mumbles, taking his fingers off of me.

When I'm done, about to tell him I need to get under the water, his hands are sliding up my sides and he's getting closer to me, pulling me against him, taking my ear between his teeth in a nip.

"Nikki, we don't have time for this." I let out in a soft giggle.

"So?" He asks, pressing a kiss to my neck, his hands moving up to hold at my chest, rolling his thumbs over my nipples, causing me to take a sharp breath and push my ass against him.

He lets out a soft moan, and I turn to face him, our lips, teeth and tongues meeting in a rough, passionate, kiss, as my body is pulled against his.

"Are you still mad at me?" He says, running his thumb across my bottom lip, looking like he's confident that I'm not still upset with him.

"Get finished, we have stuff to do." I tell him, giving him one last kiss before sliding past him to rinse off.

"Change it to cold water before you leave." He grumbles and I smile to myself, changing the temperature of the water before getting out of the shower.

Once I get my hair towel dried and finish getting ready, I'm cautiously stepping into the hallway, walking where I hear Karen and the reporter talking at the dinner table. 

"Yeah, they..." Karen trails off, seeing me. "...Oh, here she is." She states.

He turns around to face me and I rub my lips together, extending my hand to him.

"Len Donoghue." He tells me, shaking my hand.

"Vivian Sixx." I reply, politely. "Um, Nikki's getting some clothes on now, he'll be here in a minute."

"Oh, starting Valentine's Day off right, huh?" He chuckles and I feel my face go red with embarrassment as Karen attempts to curve the conversation.

"You were saying earlier you attend night classes? What degree are you pursuing?" She asks him and I take the opportunity to step to the kitchen and grab a cup of coffee.

Nikki's already there, seeming to be stalling as he takes his time examining the array of coffee cups in our cupboard.

"You don't drink coffee, baby." I remind him and he glances at me before handing me a cup.

"I was supposed to wake up this morning to a blow job. Not a fucking hotshot know-it-all scribe jotting down every last syllable of shit I say only to fabricate and cut it up before printing it in a way that makes me look bad." He mumbles and I give him a soft smile, my fingers running through the ends of his hair.

"It will be okay, Nikki. Just smile and it'll be over before you know it." I encourage him.

He sighs out, kissing me briefly before I pour my coffee and we step to the dinner table, where Len is lighting up at the site of Nikki.

"Hey, man, Nikki." Nikki introduces himself, shaking Len's hand.

"Len Donoghue, it's a pleasure." He smiles enthusiastically at him and Nikki nods before motioning to the kitchen.

"I'm gonna cook some breakfast if you wanna start your interrogation in the kitchen." Nikki says in a joking tone, but in know he means "interrogation" literally.

"Sure." Len nods, the three of us stepping to the kitchen as Karen gets up and heads to her bedroom to hangout until we're done.

I hoist myself onto the counter, watching as Nikki pulls the eggs from the fridge and I tense up as I multiple paper bags on the shelves before he closes the fridge.

I hope Len didn't notice.

"You've even got that particular detailing in here." Len comments, looking up at the mirrored ceiling.

"Yeah, I read somewhere mirror creates the illusion of a more open room." Nikki tells him, grabbing a bowl to crack the eggs into.

"That's why the place is covered in mirror?"

"Yeah, why else would it be?" He pretends to play dumb, and Len glances at me before shaking his head a little. "No reason."

"When did you move into this place?" He asks us and Nikki starts cracking the eggs.

"Uhh...like..." He looks at me. "...Over a year ago? Year and a half?"

I just nod and he confirms it.

"Yeah, over a year ago."

"Who's idea was it to live out here?" He asks next and Nikki nods towards me.

"She liked the house and I got it once we had the money." He explains.

"That makes me sound like a gold digger." I say.

"Okay, we drove by one day and she said it was a nice house and I went behind her back and got it and surprised her with it once I had the money." He corrects and Len smiles.

"Is he always nice like that?" He asks me.

"Despite how he seems publicly, he's a nice guy." I tell him and Nikki shushes me as if I can't tell his secret, making me chuckle as he grins, pouring the eggs into the heated pan.

"There's a lot of mystery around you two, is that something that's good to you or backfires sometimes?"

"It's good." Nikki states. "It's really nobody's business unless we do stuff like this," he motions to Len, "And let people in on it."

"We don't necessarily understand what the big deal is about, honestly. There's plenty of people dating or married to someone who isn't quite like them. The fact we're in the public eye doesn't make it any more interesting, honestly." I add.

"Yeah, people would be disappointed if they saw how our relationship works just like everyone else's." Nikki puts in next.

"I think you two being together really invokes certain conversations because one of you is a by the book Christian, and the other has been accused of Satanism in the past." Len suggests with a small chuckle. "So you're pretty opposite of each other in that sense but you still manage to get along well enough to feel the need to marry one another."

"We're opposite of each other in every sense, almost." Nikki tells him, finishing on the eggs.

"Really?"

"She's more reserved, conservative, quiet, innocent, sober, religious, organized..." Nikki names off a few things. "...and there's me."

"I wanna touch on that, really, because 'sober' is not something associated with rockstars or really this industry much at all, really, with so much money and access to excess and so on, have you really never had a drink of alcohol or was that an exaggeration? I mean, really, your friends, husband, piers are doing God knows what and you've never at least been curious enough to try something out?" He asks me and I shake my head.

"No. And that's not something I ride through the streets and shout out or project at a party or use to talk down on other people with. I choose not to do that because it doesn't interest me, it interests some people, some people enjoy it, but I've never really been drawn to any of it. And especially the really hard stuff, I've never felt the need or allure to that because I've seen what it does to people. But I don't turn my nose up at people who want a beer after work or have some cocktails with their girl friends on a night out. I don't even think I'm any better than the addicts that claw their eyes out while they're on dope. That's their business." I tell him, and Nikki clears his throat, putting the eggs into a bowl to be scooped out by who ever that wants them as he pulls the package of bacon from the fridge next.

"So you're the trusted D.D. when it's a night out?" Len asks me and I nod.

"Oh, yeah." I nod.

"Back to the 'opposites' topic, how did someone like you, get together with someone like her?" He questions Nikki again and Nikki let's out a breath, smirking.

"The clean version." I warn Nikki and he laughs.

"Oh, c'mon, Viv." He nudges me and I raise my brows. "Okay, fine, we met at a club on the strip, Tommy introduced us, and he had told me she was coming down there to see us and that she was a dancer and her mom was super strict, and just telling me and Mick some things about her because he and Vince had grown up with her, but we'd never met her. So she comes down there, and she's dressed like a fucking--I don't even know, nothing like what I was use to seeing on the Strip. And we just couldn't stand each other, honestly. We would aggravate the piss outta each other, I'd harrass her and purposely do and say stuff that I knew would gross her out and she would pick at me and deliberately say shit to get under my skin and piss me off. I called her 'Saint Viv' and 'Virgin Viv' and she'd call me 'Devil Spawn' and we just really got on each other's nerves, man."

"What changed that?" He asks and I wait to see how Nikki's going to say "I screwed her into my ratty mattress" in a PG way.

"There was this one night, I don't even know what happened, but I just realized I was really, really into her, and I guess she realized the same because we've been together ever since." He tells him.

"So, it's worth all the criticism about you not being the real deal because you've 'settled down'?"

"I'm not an idiot, I know people dont talk shit because I've 'settled down', they talk shit about who I've 'settled down' with. And if being with someone who's got my back, and strives to push me be the best in can be, and supports me and helps me up when I need it, then I will loud and proud shout from the hills that I've 'settled down.' I write music based off what inspires me, some of Mötley's best songs have been inspired by the very girl I'm criticized for being with because they either think she's boring or isn't bad enough for me or whatever bullshit they drum up. But I don't need someone who's bad through and through, that would be a disaster. She's bad wear it counts." He informs him and I squeeze my eyes shut.

"Nikki!" I scold.

"I'm just saying." He shrugs. "And I'd hate being with someone who's exactly like me because then I wouldn't be learning new things, or having engaging conversation that challenges my views, or see a different perspective, and she wouldn't have that, either. So I think all the street rock posers downing on me for being with a 'goody goody' and the holier-than-thou Tipper Gore carbon copies that give Viv shit for being with a 'satan worshiper' can all kiss our asses and fuck off."

Len nods, looking impressed but not shocked with Nikki's words.

"Wanna add anything to that?" He asks me.

"Ditto." I reply and Nikki smiles at me for a moment.

After Nikki's finished cooking, we're sitting at the table, and get on the topic of music.

"Is there any idea when the new music will be coming out?" He asks Nikki and Nikki nods, taking a sip of his orange juice.

"Sometime this year." He says.

"Is it gonna have a 'Theater of Pain' feel to it or is it gonna hold the same change that, that album did compared to 'Shout at the Devil'?"

"Well, we change our sound because we grow. I don't think it's too far off, I think it's all still rock 'n roll, but the sound differs a little bit with each album because we evolve." He replies.

"Any album in particular that you've made so far that's a favorite or is the best yet to come?"

Nikki gets a happy, proud grin on his face.

"The best is yet to come." He states. "Some really cool stuff is in the works."

"I'm glad to hear that because I actually am a fan of you guys' so that's a good word from you." He tells him.

"Great." Nikki says, his bare foot kicking at mine under the table.

I kick back as Len is oblivious and continues asking questions.

"Are you into their music, too, or are you just along for the ride because you kind of have to be?" He nods to me as Nikki and I are now in a kicking war, despite acting like nothing's happening.

"Yeah, I like their music."

He looks a little taken back by my answer.

"You listen to Mötley Crüe without obligation?"

"Well, yeah." I tell him.

"She looks like a frilly flower girl so you don't expect that, right?" Nikki asks, and I kick him under the table and he kicks me back, again.

"What else do you listen to?" Len asks me.

"A little bit of everything. If it's catchy or has a good groove to it, it doesn't matter the artist, I'll buy it. I listen to ABBA, Chaka Khan, Hank William's Jr, Deep Purple, BeeGees..."

"And everything in between?"

"And everything in between." I chuckle. "I also have Bon Jovi but Nikki's always trying to steal it and get rid of it."

"You don't like Bon Jovi?" Len asks, seemingly insulted and Nikki looks at me with cut eyes and a devious smirk, like he's gonna get even with me, later.

"I like Jon, I've hung out with him several times, he's a cool guy. Vocally, he nails it every time. Lyrically, musically, I can't fucking stand it. It's like being stuck on the tea cups at Disney. You wanna get off before you throw up."

"So, you don't mind ABBA, but Bon Jovi's a no-go?"

"...Basically..." He rubs his eye. "But, I mean, I might tolerate some of it if she put it on and started doing a little strip tease or something. I'd consider it, then."

I glare at him and Len laughs, as Nikki smiles innocently at me.

Once we're done eating, we offer a tour of the house, which Len eagerly accepts.

"Obviously, living room." Nikki motions.

"What happened to the ceiling?" He asks, noticing the empty ceiling space.

"Nikki thought it would be smart to throw a baseball in the house. The whole ceiling suffered." I lie and Len raises his brows.

"I bet that was fun to clean up."

"We wouldn't know, we paid someone to come out here and do it for us." Nikki mumbles. "Alright, awards and achievements." He says next, motioning to his freshly reframed gold and platinum disc awards, and my ballet trophies I've racked up from childhood to the beginning of senior year, that Nikki practically made me put on display when we moved in because he thinks it's something I should be proud of enough to showcase to people.

"Guest bedrooms, and bathroom down here." Nikki motions down the hall. "Garage, here." We walk down a couple of steps to the garage door and open it up, switching on the light.

His bike, his Corvette and mine, greet us and Len nods.

"Nothing too extravagant." He voices to us.

"I'm looking at a blacked out Mercedes right now, I might end up getting it soon." Nikki tells him.

"Oh, really?" I ask, crossing my arms.

"I was gonna tell you about it later, babe." He assures me.

"Right, like you told me about the Jeep and the Harley?"

"Ha. Ha." He let's out sarcastically. "We have a pool." He quickly discards our disagreement, leading Len back up the steps and into the house to take him to the pool.

By the time the interview is at a closing, it's almost 1:00pm, and I hope he has enough material to make a decent article.

"Thanks for letting me come by, I really do appreciate it." Len thanks us, shaking my hand before shaking Nikki's hand one last time. "It was really an honor get to talk to you, man, good luck with the album. Can't wait to hear it."

"Thanks." Nikki replies.

"Alright, you two take care, have a good evening." He tells us, turning to walk to his car.

"You, too." Nikki says before shutting the door.

When it's shut, he's turning to look down at me.

"What is it?" I ask him.

"I'm probably gonna go get some stuff from town." He states and I nod.

"Okay, I'm probably about to hangout by the pool with Karen for a few minutes." I tell him, heading to our bedroom to put my swimsuit on.

I hear the fridge open and shut--he's grabbing some of his heroin--before he's telling me he'll be back in a few minutes.

Once the garage door shuts, I'm stepping out to find Karen in her bedroom.

"Hey," I start and she looks up from where she's laying on her bed, reading. "I was gonna go lay out for a few minutes, do you wanna come?"

"Yeah, I'll be out there in a second. Let me get changed."

The phone starts ringing and I head to answer it, hoping it's not someone calling to tell me Nikki's been in an accident.

"Hello?" I answer.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Steven's voice happily declares on the other end of the line.

"Happy Valentine's Day." I reply, stepping to the kitchen to grab a Pepsi from the fridge.

"I-Is Sixx around?"

"Not right now, he's running errands in town." I explain to him.

"Oh...well when he gets back can you get him to call me back?"

"Yeah. Is everything alright?"

"It's perfect. Love you. Gotta go." He abruptly hangs up and I furrow my brows a little, hanging the phone back up.

A few minutes into sunbathing, I'm laying on my stomach with my bikini string untied as Karen chats away while I drift in and out of sleep.

"I'm gonna go use the bathroom." Karen tells me, getting up off her pool chair, heading into the house.

I give her a wave of my hand without opening my eyes, letting out a relaxed breath.

My body tenses for a moment at the feeling of Nikki's lips pressing the center of my spine, working their way up to my hair.

"Hi." I say, sitting up, tying my top back into place as he sits on my chair beside me. "Steven called and wanted you to call him back."

"He called again just when I got in so I already talked to him." He tells me and I nod. "I was out getting stuff for tonight." He wiggles his brows for a second and I try not to laugh.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Some more wine for me, the fizzy grape juice for you, and some more candles."

"You don't like just screwing around with a candle on because you can't see everything." I point out and he smirks.

"I didn't buy them for light." He says and I raise my brows, a lusty feeling washing through me at the thought.

"Race you to the bedroom!" I shout, about to take off but he grabs at my hips and pulls me down to his lap, laughing at my eagerness. "Nikki, we don't have time to waste. I have carbonated grape juice to sip on and hot candle wax to be dripped in, and that's not even including the sleazy stuff that follows, so c'mon." I struggle to pull his arms from around my waist so I can get free.

"Viv, we'll get to that later tonight, you gotta get ready for your surprise." He tells me.

"I have a surprise?"

"Yeah."

"What is it?"

"A surprise."

"Nikki."

"Viv."

"...Fine." I huff and he let's me out of his lap, handing me the roses he got me. "Where is this surprise?"

"Can't tell you. Just get changed, dress up a little bit if you want to." He tells me.

I guess he thought since he had died the year before, he should put his all into making up for it the following year.

I have to give it to him, he outdid himself that Valentine's Day...but he had some help.

"Okay, no peeking." Nikki says to me after securing the blindfold around my eyes and I grin, my hand in his as he helps me out of his Corvette.

I'm taken off guard by him suddenly picking me up, shutting the passenger side door with his foot.

"What are you doing?" I chuckle out.

"I don't want you to walk and hear your steps because it'll spoil the surprise."

"I feel you struggling to keep me up." I say to him, poking fun.

"I'm not struggling."

"Okay but if you drop me, I'm kicking your ass." I add.

"I'll kick your ass right back." He scoffs.

"Okay, then put me down and let's go, Sixx. Best two out of three."

"You're like a baby bird: all mouth." He taunts me.

"You're a baby bird: all whining."

"Virgin Vivian."

"Devil Spawn."

"Are you ready to see your surprise or are you gonna keep running your mouth?" He asks and I roll my eyes behind the blindfold and exhale.

"Fine."

He sets me down, and my heels click against the sound of wood.

"Alright, ready?"

"Yes."

The blindfold comes off, and Steven's firing off one of those tiny confetti poppers as he, Nikki and Duff all saying, "Tada!" at the same time.

We're standing inside of Mandy's old rehearsal space, except it's not shitty looking anymore.

The holes in the ceiling are patched up, it's got new lights, the floors are fresh and the once scratched up and worn down mirror is replaced, completely brand new.

I can't even form words, my eyes watering, my hand grasping Nikki's tightly.

"What do ya think?" Duff asks me.

"I-I..." I try to talk, but can't.

"Do you like it?" Nikki asks next and I'm turning to face him, wrapping my arms around his waist, hugging him tightly, nearly knocking him off balance. "Woah." He laughs, his hand rubbing up and down my back.

I'm wiping my tears when I pull away, catching his lips with mine when he leans down to kiss me for a second.

Knowing Duff was the one who bought the place from Mandy to begin with, I hug him to me next.

"Thank you." I sniffle out to him, giving him a tight squeeze before pulling away.

"It wasn't a problem, Viv." He assures me as Steven clears his throat.

"I wiped the finger prints off the mirror." He tells me and I smile, hugging him, too.

"Thank you." I say, ruffling his fluffy blonde hair.

Duff's grasping my hand, turning it over so my palm is facing upward before he's putting a key in it, closing my fingers around it.

I give him a genuine, grateful, closed-lip smile, and he returns it, his kind eyes seeming to have a spark of extra liveliness from being in his element of doing good things to make people happy.

I swear I can see Nikki scowling at us from the corner of my eye, but the look is gone from his face as soon as it arrives.

[nixmatize]

Making room for someone new (chapter 8 - final)

First || Previous

Read on AO3

This is the last day of @marigami-week, and therefore the last installation of this series! Thank you so much who has read and supported this so far. :’-)

(((Side note: there are a few hundred words of bonus content in the AO3 version, but it’s not too marigami focused - you can skip it without missing out)))

Marinette dashed off, ducking into a hidden alley away from any potential prying eyes. She was ready to absolutely destroy this akuma for interrupting her date with Kagami; the entire day had been absolutely perfect before Hawkmoth just had to swoop in and ruin it.

She had a moment of thankfulness, too, that Kagami already knew her secret. She had never even considered before how much worse it would be ditching your date rather than just ditching a friend-hangout, and she would never want to make Kagami feel that Marinette didn’t care about her just because she disappeared without warning at the appearance of any akuma.

Still, the whole situation was non-ideal.

Tikki zoomed out into the open the moment they were out of sight of pedestrians. “Tikki, spots on!” From the alley Marinette had disappeared into, Ladybug hopped up and out to stand on a nearby roof.

She had to hop a couple of blocks towards the sound of screams before the akuma itself came into view. The akuma was an old lady dressed in a shimmering cacophony of colors. While she didn’t seem to have any actual weapons on her, there were multiple large flowers with teeth at her back and call, and she seemed to be growing large vines from the ground in order to trap people in place.

Marinette considered finding a way to send Hawkmoth links to some basic online classes; he didn’t seem to have a good grasp on reality, least of all botany if the oddly warped off-color flower monsters were anything to go by.

Furthermore, she would definitely have to teach him a thing or two about fashion. Floral designs could be done really well, but that mash of colors was giving her a migraine.

Before she was able to figure out what the item could be, she heard the slight thud next to her indicating that her partner had dropped by.

“A pleasure as always to see you, Milady,” he purred.

“Hi Chat,” she replied, still examining the akuma. “I think the akumatized object might be in the flower on her lapel; it’s the only full flower rather than just petals.”

He stepped closer and knelt, completely ignoring her remark about the akuma. She turned. “My Lady,” he said, bowing, holding out a vibrant red rose. “The flower may have been a little on-the-nose, but still, it would be a purr-leasure if mew would accompany me on a date this evening?”

Ladybug shifted, uncomfortable. Chat Noir was a good friend, but he didn’t seem to be able to understand that she had absolutely no romantic feelings for him. She had to turn him down, but every time it hurt to see him so dejected.

“Chat, I actually was… on a date. Before this akuma.”

He looked at her eyes wide and flower slipping out of his loosened grip.

Just them, Ladybug spotted a vine shooting directly for him – the villain must have noticed them chatting up on the rroftop. “Look out!” she cried, tumbling into him and pushing them both out of the way.

“Was it your crush? Mystery lover boy? I swear I can do better for you than someone who spent that long without noticing you.”

“Chat, is this really the time for this?” They both dodged another round of magic vines, only to see even more shooting at them from multiple directions. Ladybug swung her yo-yo to tie some together in order to prevent them moving, but soon the entire mass of vines gave up on trying to break free and began to move toward them in unison. Chat, similarly, was having very little luck: his baton could bat vines aside, but it did nothing to stop them. “But for the record, it’s a girl I became friends with a little while ago who I really like.”

“I just… you could have chosen me. When you moved on from Mystery Boy, I was always there waiting.” He sounded sad, and seemed to be trying to make himself small in the face of her rejection.

“Look, Chat,” she started, pausing to duck out of the reach of one of the monstrous flowers that had climbed closer. “You’re one of my very best friends. I trust you with my life, always. But I don’t have feelings for you, and I need you to respect that.” She did her best to put all of her steely determination into her voice, determined to have Chat Noir get the message this time around even though it was hurting both of them.

He looked over her with big eyes, kitty ears drooping, before nodding once.

“Thank you of understanding, Chat,” Ladybug sighed. The vines were getting too close for comfort. “I think we need to get out of the way of this akuma and reconvene: we’re getting nowhere this way.”

Chat nodded again, and they bosh dashed off to the sound of the akuma howling in frustration behind them. Once they had lost the akuma and made it enough streets over, they paused to catch their breath and plan their next move.for

“Maybe Cataclysm?”

“It would help, but against this many different moving parts, probably not enough to win. My Lucky Charm?”

“That could get us closer, but I think this villain is still too strong for the two of us to take down alone. I hate to say it milady, but I think we may need to call in backup. How about Rena? Carapace?”

Ladybug looked off to one side. “They’ve been… permanently retired. Civilian life stuff.”

Chat’s tail froze for a moment, before twitching back to life. “I’ll… trust your judgement, Ladybug. Who else can we call in?”

Ladybug bit her lip. “I was actually considering making Ryuuko a permanent hero.”

This time Chat’s entire body froze. “Permanent?” “Yes.” “So she wouldn’t have to give her miraculous back to you?” “No, not unless she couldn’t work well with us.” “But… I like it being just the two of us against the world.”

“I’m sorry Chat, but we’ve just had too many close scrapes lately. Someday, if we keep up the way we are, Hawkmoth will get lucky and win. Having a permanent hero – one who can join the fight without me having to take a break and go find her – gives us much better chances of success.”

Chat still looked unhappy, ears pinned back to his skull and tail lashing. “Fine. You clearly are the one in charge here, anyway.” He turned to jump back toward the battle, before looking back one last time. “But, Ladybug – don’t forget that I have just as much experience as a superhero as you do. Just because you think it’s a good idea doesn’t mean it actually is.”

She watched him go, torn. Ladybug took a long draw of air to center herself. This was the right choice. They need help – and they would keep needing help. Kagami had shown herself to be nothing but trustworthy. Tikki, a god with millennia of experience, had given her the go-ahead. She was the one chosen to be guardian.

She was sure of her choice, but some little part of her was still pulling to chase after Chat Noir, to explain herself better and assure him that of course they were partners, the original duo, the balance.

But she knew that this wasn’t her fault, nor her battle. She was making the best choice for the team, and was fulfilling her duties as guardian of the miraculous; Chat was still hurt over her rejection, and wasn’t working with the full story.

She bounded off toward where she had left Kagami. It only took a couple minutes of search to find her crouched behind a small restaurant, well out of any potential path of the akuma.

Ladybug lowered herself in front of agami, causing the other girl to blink up at her in confusion. “The battle cannot be over yet! The akuma is still on the loose...”

Ladybug looked at the phone in Kagami’s hands, only to see that, yes, Kagami had been watching a livestream of the akuma. Some part of the tension she had been carrying with her since talking with Chat dissipated at the thought of Kagami watching out for her in her own way, even when she couldn’t actually be there.

Marinette switched open her yo-yo, and reached a hand into the glowing sheen of power to pull out a small black box. “Kagami Tsurugi, this is the miraculous of the dragon, which you will use to help us take down the akuma.”

Kagami accepted it reverently, flipping it open and releasing Longg.

She looked up to flash Ladybug a crooked smile. “And let me guess, I return it to you once we’re done?”

“Actually, Chat Noir and I have been needing another permanent holder on our side for a long time now, since Hawkmoth seems to just keep getting stronger. So I was thinking, if you’re in – and if we fight well together, of course – you could… hold onto it?”

Kagami was satring at her with wide eyes, so she hastily hedged. “Not that you have to decide now, of course! And there’s no pressure to accept, if you don’t want to-”

“Ladybug,” Kagami said, cutting her off. “It would be an honor to fight by your side for as long as you’ll allow me. I swear I will do my best to protect you.”

Ladybug nodded, eyes misty for some reason she couldn’t name.

Kagami slipped on the necklace. “Longg, bring the storm.”

A flash, and Ryuuko stood facing Ladybug, adorned in red and black and gold that made Ladybug simultaneously want to fight by this girl’s side forever, and crush her to herself so that they could both stay safe and close without ever needing to worry about the other getting hurt.

Side by side, they leapt out of the alley, tracking back toward the action.

Both girls skidded to a stop on a nearby roof, where Chat Noir came bounding in at the sight of them. “You were right, Ladybug, the akuma is definitely in the flower – the akuma is way too protective of it.” He turned his blank gaze off to Ladybug’s side. “And Ryuuko, nice to fight with you again.”

Chat seemed to process silently for a moment, before his eyes flew open wide. “Wait, Ladybug, is she the girl…?”

Both Ladybug and Ryuuko had their faces turn different shades of pink. “Uh, haha,” Ladybug started, unsure of what to say, “wow! Look at that akuma! Gotta go!” She dashed off toward it before seeing Chat’s expression.

She heard Ryuuko say something to the same effect behind her, before bounding off into battle as well.

Both worked in sync, Ladybug tying together large bundles of vines that Ryuuko would then hack through in one fell swoop, crippling the akuma as her main weapons were neutralized.

Ladybug’s eyes caught Ryuuko’s just as they both made a leap for the weakened akuma’s object, and Marinette and Kagami had the same thought: I love this girl.

They both smiled as Ryuuko tore the flower and Ladybug swung her yo-yo out to purify it. Even though there was still plenty of fight ahead of them – the akuma battles, facing Lila, finding Hawkmoth – with someone like Kagami at her side, Marinette was sure everything would turn out just fine.

She released her healing ladybugs over the city, and felt the stress that had been gnawing at her since she was left as the sole guardian finally, finally release. She had two partners at her side, a city behind her, and a girlfriend who supported her; what more could a superhero ask for?

[notafightr]

It fic exchange!!!

so here's my reddie fic for @disneyfan567​ for the it fic exchange event! no trigger warnings, sorry for any mistakes or lack of skill this displays as i havent written in a long time and this is the first time ive written in this fandom

(°﹏°)

  Eddie was 13 when he moved to Ohio. Sonia decided she had had enough of Derry, and the small town was doing more harm than good to her delicate son. To describe Eddie's reaction, reluctant was an understatement. He was leaving his 6 best friends, his only real friends, all because of his mother's glorified temper tantrum.

  The past 3 years were (in)arguably the best years of his life. He met his best friends, more of a family than his own (which really just consisted of his overbearing mother), he had irreplaceable experiences and memories with his best friends, these friends entirely shaped and nurtured his character. So to have his mother rip all of that away from him, well it understandably upset him. Most of all, he didn't know how he was going to cope with the frequent flashbacks and nightmares that taxed him emotionally and mentally several times a week, dutifully owed to that short, albeit rather traumatic summer of 89’.

  For 3 long, yet oh so short years, Eddie coped with these strains through the support of his friends, especially a loudmouthed, annoying boy with Coke bottle glasses and slightly bucked teeth, named Richard Tozier, who couldn't find it in him to ever stop annoying Eddie, or stop telling him how much he loved him, or stop picking flowers for him on walks because he knew even though Eddie denied it, they really did make Eddie happier than he cared to admit.

  How do you cope with a demon clown terrorising you and your friends’ lives for an entire summer, haunting you as your worst fear, using unholy tactics to scare you in unimaginable ways, trapping you in its crack den, and almost killing you miles below land level, all at the ripe age of 10? Hopefully you found yourself down there with your 6 best friends. You also let your mind do the forgetting. Well, what it can. There's some things you can't forget.

  Until you leave Derry.

  Eddie started forgetting the moment the plane took off, whether he realized it or not. He managed to remember his friends for a short while, but vaguely. He didn't remember the poems Ben gave him every birthday, or that the friendship bracelet on his left wrist was made by thee Beverly Marsh. He didn't remember that the reason his room was always so tidy was because Stan Uris couldn't help himself every time they chose Eddie’s place as the hangout spot (when Sonia wasn't home of course), or all the scary stories Bill liked to tell at their weekly sleepovers at the ass crack of 3 am. He didn't remember how Jessica and Will Hanlon were by far the superior parents of the friend group and the snacks they so generously provided to said group were the best he ever had, no doubt that Mike directly inherited their kind and generous traits.

  When he woke up at the end of his plane ride, he didn't even remember that the lily flower in his hand was given to him as a parting gift by Richie, whose parents picked him up from the airport after he gave one last hug goodbye at the gate and waved Eddie off with flower in hand. Even after intently looking down, confused, and finally remembering it was indeed Richie who gave him the flower, he still didn't remember Richie’s endearing flower giving habit.

  He promised them he'd stay in touch, but it wasn't long before the initials BH, BM, SU, BD, MH, and RT were just meaningless letters next to a series of unknown house phone numbers.

  It wasn't until he forgot one particular conversation with Bill during a sleepover one night in 6th grade that he forgot Richie completely.

  “Bill?” Eddie whispered, lying down in Bill’s bed, not even sure if Bill was awake.

  “Y-yeah?” Bill replied after some silence.

  “So, we're best friends right?”

  “Well y-yeah, I m-mean all-” Bill started before being interrupted.

  “No I mean like, I know the seven of us are best friends obviously, but I mean, we’re best-best friends, you know what I mean? Like even before the lucky seven it's always been us right?”

  “Oh. Yeah I s-suppose.” Bill reassured him.

  It took Eddie a second to try and gather his thoughts and articulate what he was trying to say.

  “Well, I feel like, Richie’s different from all of you.”

  “Yeah n-no sh-shit Eddie, that k-kid can't k-keep his mou-” Bill was again interrupted.

  “No, that's not what I mean. I mean,” Eddie again had to organize his thoughts in his head, which proved to be difficult when not even he knew what he was thinking. “I mean I feel different with him. Like when he gives me flowers and stuff, and he's the only one that calls me Eds. But I know you're my best friend. My best-best friend. Am I wrong? Maybe Richie is my best-best friend?” At this point it felt like Eddie was just saying it out loud for himself.

  After a few seconds, which felt like several minutes to Eddie, Bill giggled.

  “What?” Eddie asked, almost panicked.

  While Bill didn't necessarily believe this, the thought amused him greatly. “It s-sounds like you have a c-cr-crush on h-him.”

  “Wh-... you th-” Eddie just about got whiplash from Bill’s statement. “You think I have a crush on him?!”

  “I n-never said that… I j-just said it s-sounds like you do.”

  “I'm not… I don't like boys like that. My mom told me what it means if you do and what happens, and I don't think I do,” he backtracked.

  At this point, Bill was almost asleep. “Okay Eddie, that's fine,”

  “I think maybe you're just both my best friends,” Eddie assured, but undoubtedly he said this more for himself than for Bill. Bill probably succumbed to slumber before Eddie could even start.

  Once any evidence of this conversation having occurred left his brain, any trace of Richie was buried deep under newer things. The others were already long gone. The nightly nightmares he experience fizzled out eventually, but they did resurface every once in a while. On the other side of the same coin however, he did have dreams about the good times with the losers. He never remembered them when he woke up, though.

  Not to mention, he was frequently frustrated at his lack of motivation to clean his room properly, wondering why his always clean room in Derry suddenly had no place in his new life in Ohio. Where's a Stan Uris when you need him?

  He tried to make friends. For a bit he was even in a nice friend group of people he clicked fairly well with, they were funny and kind and they welcomed him with open arms. But nothing felt right. They were funny, but it hurt to laugh at their jokes, they were nice, but almost too nice. If anyone so much as cracked a your mom joke, Eddie's first thought was an annoyed “Stop trying to be-” but always stopped short right there.

  Stop trying to be who?

  He didn't know. He didn't remember.

  So at the end of his sophomore year, when he asked his mom to sign his permission form for the classes he wanted to take the upcoming school year, his mom declined.

  “Eddie Bear, we're moving back to Derry this summer.” Sonia said apologetically, understanding he'll have to say goodbye to the friends he doesn't have.

  “Wait, what?” confused was an understatement. He had to rack his brain for a moment to even remember what “Derry” meant.

  “It’s getting difficult for me to support us financially here, so we're moving back near your Aunt Jodie and she's going to help us a little bit. We should start packing no later than the end of May, we’ll be out of the house and into the new one at the beginning of July in time for you to to get settled and start school at Derry High.”

  Eddie had never felt more indifferent in his whole entire life, while also feeling an inkling of hope he didn't quite understand. If anything, his biggest curiosity was why he didn't feel even a whisper of sadness for leaving the people he knew in Marietta, Ohio. While Eddie didn't care about moving back to Derry, and it meant almost nothing to him on the surface, the Eds inside of Eddie couldn't help peeking through.

  So they moved back. Eddie finished packing up his belongings before the deadline his mother gave to start packing had even passed, and he didn't bother telling any of his “friends” (perhaps acquaintances is a more applicable word) that he was leaving because the truth was, it was more trouble than it was worth. They would no doubt care more than twice as much as he did, so he left without so much of a trace of a goodbye.

  Now that Eddie was 16, he could drive. While Sonia wouldn't buy Eddie his own car, not over her dead body, she did allow him to use hers when it was available, and given her physical state and social life, it was almost always available. After a solid 8 hours of unpacking his things in his new, snug room on an otherwise uneventful July evening, he picked up his mom's keys.

  “Bye Mom!” he shouted loud enough for his mom to hear without bothering to hear her response as he shut the door.

  He shoved the key in ignition. Despite not having been in town for 3 years, he was still able to navigate the area without assistance. He drove to the coffee shop that he had vague memories of visiting during middle school winters for hot chocolate with some friends whose faces he couldn't quite remember yet.

  Walking in it didn't look much different. Not that Derry would care enough to update the coffee shop, or any shop for that matter, for any reason.

  “Hi, how can I help you?” a blonde girl at the register asked uninterestedly.

  She definitely hates her job, Eddie thought while pointlessly perusing the menu, already knowing what he planned to order. Sophomore year was not academically kind to Eddie, and a caffeine addiction to compensate for the mass amount of all nighters pulled did occur.

  “Can I just have a black coffee with sugar?” he asked while digging through his tattered black wallet he received as a birthday gift in seventh grade. He then flinched his head up in response to hearing another employee drop an entire pitcher of coffee on the floor.

  “Oh, fuck,” said worker pointedly exclaimed, which not only stirred a giggle out of Eddie, but his voice in combination with his oddly familiar black curly hair caused his heart drop, though completely lost as to why.

  “Your name?”

  “Hello?” She asked after a moment.

  “Hello!” the blonde girl repeatedly nagged, trying to catch Eddie’s lost attention.

  “What? Sorry I missed that,” Eddie finally grounded himself. Unfortunately his attempt to catch the other employees face failed as he stayed turned away and then hurried to his hands and knees on the floor.

  “I need your name for your order.”

  “Oh yeah of course, Eddie.” Not even seconds after his response, he heard something nearly inaudible, completely not understandable from the employee on the floor, which was confirmed by the blonde girl, which Eddie now gathered from her name tag to be Sarah, who exasperatedly asked about the other employee’s struggle.

  “You alright down there?”

  “Yeah, I’m just peachy, Sarah,” hearing the voice even clearer instilled a visceral reaction even stronger in Eddie once again.

  Sarah took Eddie’s cash, distributed his change, and set his cup down on the back counter for when the other employee to make when he was done cleaning up his mess. He picked a seat close by the counter and waited. After a few minutes, longer than probably usual, given time dedicated to cleaning up the coffee on the floor, Eddie heard his name called by the same antagonist and saw his coffee set on the counter, but employee was again out of sight. Eddie grabbed the coffee and with no reason to stay he made his way back to the car.

  Drinking his iced coffee on his way home, at a stop light he picked up his drink and studied it curiously. He noticed the boy who made his drink must have added his name for some reason because when Sarah set it down for him to make, there was nothing written on it. However, clearly on the cup, was his name:

  While looking at the little flower next to his name made him smile, it was a cute gesture, it filled him with a familiar sense of longing and loneliness, as if he was missing something. He got home, finished his coffee, continued unpacking, dreadfully argued with his mom about leaving the house without telling her where he was going, and went to sleep. It was less of a need for caffeine but more of an eagerness to learn about a curly headed, clumsy employee that brought him back to the coffee shop the next day.

  So he came back. He came back at the same time too, to have his best chance of the boy being on shift.

  “How can I help you?” Sarah asked.

  “Black coffee with sugar, Eddie.” successfully staying on track with Sarah this time around.

  Again, she set the blank cup on the counter and just like before, his name with a dainty doodle of a flower beside it. Unfortunately, even if he wanted to say anything to the employee which Eddie now knew wears a big pair of glasses, his introverted nature wouldn't allow it. Back to home it was, to continue setting up his new room.

  The next couple of weeks was the same routine, and quite lonely. Being in the middle of summer, with no school to be his vessel of socializing, and no friends, it was him, his lonely self, and his mom. For all intents and purposes, him and his lonely self.

  However one morning, in a hurry as he had a family gathering for brunch to attend to, he knew he wouldn't be able to get to the coffee shop in the evening so he came in the morning, despite knowing the shift would likely not be the same.

  He walked in and noticed it was in fact not Sarah at the register but didn't look further.

  “How can I help you?” The boy at the register was looking down.

  “Just a black coffee and sugar. Eddie.” He got the cash from his wallet and told the boy he could keep the change as he was already late to his aunt's house and confident he could do without the dollar and 74 cents. As he walked to the counter to get his coffee as soon as it was ready, he noticed the boy scribbling his name and a flower on the cup but his brain didn't process anything other than how late he was. He took his coffee eagerly and made his way back to his car, knowing his mom (who was already there after being picked up by her sister) was no stranger to yelling at Eddie for “caring more about himself than his family”.

  On the drive to his house he allowed himself time to think and thought about the boy at the register. He was familiar to Eddie and not just because he's seen him every day for two weeks, making his regular order with ease.

  The Coke bottle glasses.

  The flower.

  The unkempt, black, curly hair.

  But that was still too out of reach for him. He thought about it for as long as he could without having an aneurysm from working his brain too hard and decided he would come back the next morning for the same shift.

  Sonia greeted Eddie outside before he was able to come inside.

 “Eddie bear, why are you so late?”

  “Sorry ma, I was up late finishing my summer assignment and I stopped to get coffee when I left,” Eddie started despite knowing this wouldn't be enough to appease his mom.

  “Aunt Jodie is being very kind to help us out and this is the first time seeing family since we've gotten back, you should show your gratitude properly. Say thank you when we come in.”

  “I will, Ma. Why didn't you just wake me up and take the car here?”

  “Aunt Jodie wanted to catch up with me before everyone else got here. She took us to breakfast. I figured you'd have enough autonomy to drive yourself here on time. Are you feeling well? Did you sleep enough?”

  “Yes, ma!” Eddie spoke as he got out of the car and locked it, handing the keys to his mom. “I just overslept. Sorry for being late.”

  However, while his cousins and aunts and uncles were asking him how Ohio was and if he was sad to leave his friends and if he left a broken hearted girlfriend back in Marietta, all he could think about was the coffee shop employee who never failed to doodle a flower next to his name.

  He got home late, worked on his summer assignment, because against what he told his mom, he had in fact not started yet. He made sure to wake up at the same time as the morning before and headed to the coffee shop. To his pleasure, the boy was at the register.

  “How can I help you?”

  Eddie stared at him.

  “Uh,” He couldn't help but chortle as Eddie stared, wordlessly, and then it appeared as though a freight train of memories hit him square in the head.

  “Oh my God,” Eddie nearly dropped to the floor. “Richie? Richie fucking Tozier? Is this a joke?”

  “Ya know Eds, I was starting to think you really forgot me. Or maybe you just hated me.” Richie allowed himself to laugh.

  “I… I did forget you? But how? We-” and at that moment Richie could visibly see It creep itself back into Eddie’s memories.

  “Holy shit? You forgot about that too? Do you have amnesia? What happened to that pretty little head of yours?” Richie put his hand on Eddie's forehead and pretended to feel his temperature.

  “Oh my God,” whiplash had struck Eddie again. “I need to sit down,” He started to move to a chair nearby when he remembered more. “The others! Beverly, and Ben, and Stan and Bill and Mike!” he quite literally felt like someone waking up from a 20 year coma, rediscovering everything that happened before he fell asleep.

  “They're peachy. Stan's actually getting back from visiting his family in Florida today.” Richie informed him. “Any reason you never stayed in touch like you said you would? Left a man hanging.”

  “It's like, wait- those initials were yours!” Suddenly three years of wondering who those house numbers in his binder belonged to clicked. “It’s like I forgot you guys as soon as I left,”

  “That soon? Ed's, you wound me,” Richie teased. “But you're still wearing the friendship bracelet Bev made.” He held out his wrist and displayed a bracelet of the same pattern but in different colors. “What’s she got that I don't?”

  For the first time in 3 years, Eddie let out a genuine laugh.

  “Are you busy, cutie? I'm on break in 15 minutes and I can get someone to cover the rest of my shift,” Richie asked, hopeful.

  “Yeah that's fine.. uh.. have you been working every day? All day?” Eddie asked, concerned.

  “Well the past couple of weeks at least a couple of us from the gang has been visiting family or doin’ some crazy shit so I figured I'd make use of time and make some money, we're doing a road trip in a couple of weeks.”

  “Oh that's cool-”

  “You're invited, if you want, obviously. What better way to celebrate you coming back than a road trip? Ed's, just wait till’ they find out you're back-” Richie cut himself off when he noticed another man walk into the shop and they both decided to end the conversation there so he could order. “Okay hold on I'm gonna take his order, and I'll be out in 10 minutes, you can wait here if you want?”

  “Sounds good,” Eddie couldn't help the smile on his face, it's contagiousness showing in Richie's smile.

  After waiting for a bit, Richie came from the back out of his uniform, a bag on his shoulder, and a rose in his hand. He held it out to Eddie.

  “Do you just, carry flowers with you?” Eddie looked at him curiously.

  “No but I- after I saw you yesterday morning and I passed this one on my way to work, something told me I should grab it.” Eddie took it. “Flowers still get ya goin’?” Eddie punched him in the shoulder.

  “Thanks, Rich.” He smiled.

  “Where to now, spaghetti?” Richie put his arm around Eddie.

  “For 3 glorious years I never had to hear that, don't call me spaghetti!”

  “Okay Eds, answer the question!”

[writing-in-grey]

Juan

His name was Juan, and you loved him. You loved how wide his smile was, and how brightly his teeth shone against his beautiful dark skin. You loved the sound of his laugh, deep and lyrical. You loved how the top of your head only came halfway up his chest, and sometimes he would use your head as an armrest before sliding his arm down and wrapping it around your shoulders. You loved how his eyes, the colour of rain-soaked earth, made you feel like maybe your own brown eyes weren’t as plain and unlovely as you’d always thought, and you loved how they never looked anywhere but directly into yours. You loved how the conversations you had in the small, seemingly forgotten corner that was the study hall classroom, the only space you ever shared, were always intensely personal. Not in content, but in the way you spoke. Every moment spent with him was fiercely intimate.

The first time he asked you on a date, it was like being hit in the face with a brick. It was like living your whole life as a fish and then waking up at the bottom of the ocean one day to discover you didn’t have any gills.

It was the first time you’d seen him looking like that – wide-eyed and small-mouthed. Like a dog with its ears flat and its tail between its legs.

“You want to date me?” you asked. He nodded. “N-no.”

And then you were alone in the hallway, alone with the not-quite-white and not-quite-teal floor tiles and the harsh florescent lights and the mural of the not-politically-correct school mascot, and what just happened?

You were afraid to see him again. He’d been so different, so timid and shy where usually there was nothing but confidence, and you’d said the wrong thing. You had made him disappear. You didn’t understand. Didn’t understand his question, didn’t understand his feelings, didn’t understand why your answer had made him run. You just wanted what you already had.

The next day, you approached the study hall door with fear rising like bile in your gullet and your breath trapped in your chest, but you opened the door there he was – wide smile and easy attitude, like the day before had never happened. Maybe it hadn’t. And when you spoke to him, he replied with the same sonorous voice, and when he laughed it was still lyrical, and when he looked at you it was the same piercing eye contact that made you feel as though he were the only person in the world who had ever really seen you.

The second time he asked you on a date, you thought he was joking and laughed, then asked him for help with your math homework. When he didn’t show up to study hall for the next three days, you thought he must be sick. When he finally did come back, he didn’t smile and barely answered when you spoke to him. He wouldn’t look anywhere near you for a week more, and you still did not understand.

It was quite by coincidence that Noah transferred into Juan’s and your study hall the day after you laughed. You were languishing without Juan’s companionship as he avoided you, so when Noah said hello, you latched onto his attentions like a drowning person to a life ring. He was in your German class, although you’d never spoken. But it gave you something to talk about, some small connection with which to forge the beginnings of a friendship. You soon learned you were both taking Algebra II as well, but you had it second period and he had it fifth. You were slightly better than Noah at German, but he was far better than you at algebra. Together you practiced verb conjugation and rudimentary conversation, and he helped show you how to solve for x and plot on a graph. He introduced you to Rammstein and South Park. He’d tell you jokes, and you’d laugh. None of your conversations were intimate, and his eyes always seemed to focus on your mouth.

The day Juan pulled up a chair and said he loved that South Park episode Noah was talking about, you grew so lightheaded you thought surely you were about to faint. His lips kept moving but your head was swimming and your ears didn’t seem to work. Your mouth went dry and your heart was hammering so hard it hurt and he was so close you could reach out and touch him if you wanted, but you thought your fingers might be fire and you didn’t want to set the peace ablaze. You tried instead to tell him without words how ecstatic you were that he was there again, but somehow his eyes always seemed to miss yours.

Study halls with Juan and Noah together were always more like study halls with Noah and not like study halls with Juan, but at least Juan was there. Even if everything you loved about your time with Juan before was gone, at least time with him existed at all. And still, every now and then he’d catch your eye and it was the same as before – just as fierce, just as tender, just as intimate.

Noah gave you his number so you could text him with any algebra questions. You had algebra questions. The class was on Chapter 10 in the textbook and you still couldn’t understand past Chapter 3. Sometimes he’d help you with your homework, or sometimes you’d just vent about how frustrated you were at the discordance between the amount of effort you put into understanding algebra and the results those efforts yielded. And sometimes you’d just talk about what happened in German class that day, or the latest South Park episode you’d watched. Sometimes you’d just tell each other about your day. It felt nice to have someone with whom you could have these conversations, even when you weren’t with them at school. It made you feel important. It made you feel like somebody actually cared. It made you feel like you had a friend, a real friend. Because you did. For once, you had a friend who wanted to talk to you past 2:30 in the afternoon.

We should hang out sometime. You stared at the text in awe, too shocked to respond for several minutes. It had been about two months since Noah had joined your study hall, and now he wanted to hang out. You had a friend who wanted to spend time with you outside of school. No one had wanted to do that with you since the sixth grade. 

Yeah, totally.

Cool, how about Saturday, my house?

And just like that you had actual plans to hang out with an actual friend. It was surreal, it was too good to be true. There had to be a catch, but you couldn’t find it. Every morning that week woke you in a cold sweat, the same nightmare replaying night after night.

In the dream, you would arrive at Noah’s house bubbling with excitement, thrilled to be hanging out with your for-real friend. But when you got there, all 683 students who attended your high school would be at his house – a hundred or so inside, the rest spilling out his front doorway and onto his lawn or hanging out of windows or sitting on the roof, all staring at you as you arrived, all laughing. Look at her; she thought someone really wanted to hang out with her! they’d say. She thought he was actually her friend! Dream-you would start crying, which only made them laugh harder, and you’d wake up with wet cheeks, feeling like you were about to throw up.

Saturday finally arrived, nothing but blue skies and sunshine. The high would be 76º, according to your phone. You washed the nightmares off your cheeks, brushed your teeth and hair, and threw on shorts and a t-shirt with a growing pit in your stomach, all but convinced your nightmares were mere hours from becoming reality. At the very least, you were about to discover what the trap actually was, even if your current fears were a little unrealistic. Or maybe you were just about to hang out with a friend. You tried not to let it, but that small thought spread, overshadowing your fears, getting your hopes up when you knew they were about to be dashed.

By the time you informed your mother it was time to leave and climbed into the passenger seat of her car, your mind was abuzz with questions and anticipation rather than fear. It’d been so long; what did people do when they hung out? Would it be like study hall, or would you do more than just converse? And what did people talk about besides homework? You couldn’t think of a single topic that wasn’t related to math or German, despite having talked (or texted) with Noah already about a wide range of subjects over the past month and a half, many of which had nothing to do with school at all. By the time your mother pulled into Noah’s driveway, you were a bouncing bundle of anxiety and thrills. No one was here to laugh at you, and you felt stupid for being so worried about such a scenario. In fact, all of the many fears your mind had so carefully cultivated over the past week seemed silly and faraway. Now you were only anxious about making a good impression, about knowing what to say and do during this casual hangout with your friend.

Your mother backed out of Noah’s driveway and he invited you inside. You removed your shoes inside the doorway and he told you your socks were adorable. They had cat faces on them and were indeed adorable. You said thanks and the vice you hadn’t quite realized was wrapped around your chest loosened a notch or two.

He gave you a quick tour of his house, asked if you wanted something to drink. No thank you, you said.

“Have you seen this one before?” he asked, slipping the DVD into the player, not showing you the title. Not knowing how to answer, you didn’t. You took a seat on the loveseat instead, your right leg pressed firmly against the arm of the sofa, the wool-polyester blend making your legs itch just a little. He joined you on the loveseat and pressed ‘play’ on the remote. You hadn’t seen Shaun of the Dead before, but you spent the entire film trying to figure out why his thigh was pressed up against yours when there was so much empty space to the left of him.

“What’d you think?” he asked as the credits rolled.

“Yeah,” you said. “Awesome, it was great.”

He asked you what your favorite part was, but began describing his before you had to answer. You made sure to smile and nod a lot, not taking in his words any more than you had the movie. His thigh was still touching yours and you still did not understand why.

Noah stood up, and you followed suit. You took a step back as well, regaining your personal space. He suggested you get some ice cream. It was only a mile down the road, he said, so his mother wouldn’t have to drive you. “No one to babysit us,” he said with a laugh and a twitchy smile. You didn’t want ice cream, but you were too busy wondering why adult supervision was a thing to be avoided to object.

That night as you sat alone in your bedroom, you could still feel his fingers slide between yours as you walked to and from the ice cream stand, and your lips were still buzzing from the kiss he’d given you goodbye. You’d jumped when his hand first made contact with yours, and he’d given a nervous laugh and grabbed your hand before it could jump away again. His palm was sweaty and his fingers felt massive and invasive between yours, and you hadn’t known what to say.

He’d ordered two soft-serve vanilla cones and paid one-handed. You took your cone and sat across from him at the picnic table behind the ice cream stand, but he got up and moved so your thighs were touching once more. His fingers were slightly sticky on the walk back, and you could still feel his melty ice cream in the valleys of your fingers even after you’d washed them.

Your mother was waiting to pick you up by the time you got back from the ice cream stand, chatting in the driveway with Noah’s mother. He didn’t let go of your hand.

“I guess this is goodbye for now, then,” he said as you joined your mothers in the driveway.

“Yeah,” you said.

“I’ll text you when you get home, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I had fun with you today.”

“Yeah.”

And then he kissed you. His lips were still cold from the ice cream and you were too surprised to even consider the fact that he probably expected you to kiss him back. Out of all the scenarios for which you had prepared, this was never one of them.

And so with sticky fingers and buzzing lips, you sat on your bed desperately scrolling through old texts as your phone was flooded with new ones, wracking your brain trying to figure out which words he’d used exactly when he invited you over, and how you had somehow unwittingly, unwillingly acquired a boyfriend.

You will never forget the last words Juan ever spoke to you: “How come you’ll go out with him but not with me?”

It would be years, nearly a decade, before you discovered the word “asexual” outside of a 7th grade science class, years before you understood the answer he stormed off before you could give, leaving you alone in the empty hallway with the not-quite-white and not-quite-teal floor tiles and the harsh florescent lights and the mural of the not-politically-correct school mascot, alone in the exact same place he’d left you alone when you told him no and you did not understand, except this time maybe you did.

That night you lay awake in your bed, whispering to the darkness that was not Juan, “Because you let me say no.”

[technicallynerdycupcake98]

Welcome to the Nightmare pt.1

Hey so this is going to be a few chapters long and it focuses on YooHyeon x HanDong from Dreamcatcher. Just a couple of things :) SeungYeon is a character I created and she is based off my best friend, I don’t know much about vampires or supernatural creatures and no mature content except a little making out ;) ENJOY !

The bar was buzzing as people of all ages were coming and going. It was HanDong’s 1st experience in a bar. She was a quiet, nerdy kind of girl and so bars weren’t her usual hangout. But her friend Dami wanted to go clubbing and HanDong was the only girl available. She followed her friend inside and instantly regretted her choice of coming. In front of her were hundreds of drunk, sweaty and creepy people.

“They look like the walkers in Walking Dead…” the Chinese girl thought to herself as Dami pulled her through the crowd.

She soon arrived in the middle of the dance floor and her friend soon began swaying her hips to the beat. HanDong sighed and tried to fit in, failing miserably. Her tomb raider top and jeans not really fitting the rocky/goth look of the club. She pushed her way through the crowd of zombie-like people and landed at the bar. The Barman gave her a look when she ordered a coke but soon delivered then walked off. “Rude.” She thought as she turned her back to the bar and searched for Dami. She scanned the large room but to no avail. Dami was nowhere to be found. She saw a small booth in the corner and scurried over there before anyone else could take it. She slid into the leather seated booth and sipped her coke while still searching for Dami. After her 7th coke, HanDong decided to finally get up and use the bathroom that took her 20 minutes to find. She scurried inside a stall and did her business. As she stepped out, a younger female with beautiful grey hair and pale features came bursting in with another female in her grip. HanDong quickly hid back in the stall and covered her mouth. She pulled out her phone and texted Dami to come help her but the reception was shit. She heard someone yelp and thrash about and minutes later, a body dropped to the floor. HanDong’s eyes widened when the smaller girl’s head landed under the door to her stall. She screamed and tried to hurry out of the bathroom. She pulled open the door and the grey-haired girl was standing in front of it with her hand on the handle. She stared down at HanDong before grabbing her wrist and pulling her out into the open room.

“What are you doing here?” The grey-haired girl growled.

The Chinese girl just stuttered as the younger girl stared her down. As HanDong was about to finally answer, she was suddenly slammed against the sinks and a pair of lips had found their way to hers. She gasped and reached to push the random girl away but her grip on HanDong’s wrists was strong. The younger girl took his opportunity to slide her tongue into the Chinese girl’s mouth and slide her hands down to squeeze her butt. HanDong soon acted and linked her arms around the girl’s neck. To this, the girl smirked and gripped her butt tighter. The younger girl pulled away, leaving HanDong gasping. She soon continued and trailed down the Chinese girl’s neck. This made the blonde girl moan and throw her head back in pleasure.

“You smell amazing..” the younger girl snarled.

HanDong just groaned and jumped up on the counter. She pushed her fingers through the silky grey locks of the girl in front and rested her head on the mirror behind her. All worry about someone walking in gone from her mind. She felt the girl’s hands leave her butt and travel around to her front. She looked up at the girl but soon let her head fall back in pleasure again when she felt a hand push down under her jeans. With pleasure pulsing through her veins she hardly noticed the sharp pain in her skin. Only once the grey-haired girl pulled away with a smirk and blood on her face did she realize that she had been bitten. It was then too late because she was slowly falling unconscious.

HanDong’s pov: I slowly wake up to someone shaking me. I peel my eyes open and groan at the bright light above my head. I hiss as my whole body hurts. The person sits me up and splashes cold water on my face. The cold liquid jolts my body awake and I thrash out at the person in front of me.

“Ya! Don’t hit me! I’m trying to help you Dongie.”

My body aches as the girl’s voice seems so loud in my ears.

“Stop shouting… aish…” I mumble as I try to stand.

“Dong I’m not shouting… Anyway, I brought you home the other night. You’ve been out for three days.” The voice continued.

I finally open my eyes fully and see GaHyeon in front of me. She smiles worriedly at me. I glance around the room and sigh. I take the chance to get up and use the bathroom. As soon as I stand up a weird feeling jolts through my body making me scream. GaHyeon rushes to my side in an instant. As she reaches me I push her back and she lands the other side of the room. Her eyes grow wide with fear while I just sit there and stare at my hands.

“Dong? “ the youngest says as she picks herself up from the floor.

I just groan loudly as I feel my whole body shake violently. It feels as if my muscles are stretching, bones are breaking and reforming and my teeth feel like they are about to fall out. My vision goes red for a moment and then everything is over. I look over to the girl who is almost crying in fear.

“I’m fine,” I reply as I stand up and head to the bathroom.

I quickly enter the bathroom and lock the door behind me. I stare at myself in the mirror and gasp. I somehow look so different yet still the same. My hair seems softer, my glasses now serve no purpose, my body seems toned and my senses seem different. I quickly finish in the bathroom and head down to the kitchen for breakfast. I pass GaHyeon who just stares at me in shock. I suddenly feel insecure as she stares at me with wide eyes and her small hands covering her open mouth. I hide in the kitchen and find some kimchi in the fridge from last night. I stuff a load in my mouth and sigh in satisfaction as the food filled me up. But as soon as it settled in my stomach it seemed to come straight back up. I dash to the sink and throw the entire plate of kimchi back up and groan in frustration. I stare at the food in the sink, its mere sight making me feel nauseous.

“What the hell is happening to me…?” I sigh. I spend the day in bed, too tired and worn out to do anything. GaHyeon has invited SeungYeon over to try and entertain me but she’s late as usual. By the time she arrives, I am watching some random anime on Netflix.

“HanDong-ah! What the hell is wrong with you now ?” The younger girl asks as she bursts into my room.

“I don’t know Seungy… I’m so confused.”

She sits down on my bed and turns to me. Her presence calms my nerves instantly.

“Tell me everything that happened last night while you were at the club.” She says as she pulls out a Jessica Jones notepad and a Naruto pen.

I giggle at her nerdy antics. I tell her everything that I remember and she listens carefully while jotting down notes here and there. I can tell she’s dead serious as she is extremely quiet. It’s almost scary.

“That’s all you remember? You sure? What happened just before you passed out ?” The French girl asked, tapping her pen against her cheek.

I think about it hard for a moment but nothing seems to come. It’s as if my memory of the event was wiped clean from my brain.

“Maybe you need to re-enact it !”

“Yah! I’m not gonna pretend to make out with someone so you can figure out what’s wrong with me Seung !”

“Jeez sorry… Well, can I at least look you over ? See if you were injected somewhere or something?” She asked, placing her pad down on the bed.

I nod and she comes closer to me. She examines my arms, legs, back, and face. She pushed my hair back and gasps. She pokes my neck and I wince in pain. A bolt of electricity shoots through my body as she poked the area again and again.

“Ya that hurts! Cut it out.” I hiss as she continues to poke the sore area, making me punch her arm.

“Sorry sorry… But you’ve got two marks here. You were bi-…” she stops and covers her mouth.

I look at her in fear and curiosity. She leaps off the bed and grabs her phone from the pillow. She paces around while typing furiously. I just sit there nervously playing with my fingers while she moves around my room. Soon enough she spins back towards me and grins.

“Bingo! I’ve found it !” She cheers.

“Care to actually tell me, dummy ?” I sigh.

She pounces back onto the bed and shoves her phone in my face.

“Yah! Too close you idiot !” I say as I grab the bright object and pull it away from my face.

I let my eyes adjust to the screen and look at the image. My mouth falls in disbelief. I look up at Seung and gulp. She leans in and grabs her phone from my hands.

“Dong! You’ve been bitten by a vampire! You’ve become the Bella Swan of South Korea !” She says as she points back to her phone where a poster of Twilight can be seen causing me to sigh.

HanDong stares at the brunette in despair and falls back onto her pillow. Seung’s face is a mix of confusion and hurt. She shakes the Chinese girl and whines.

“I’m not joking Dong !” She whines.

HanDong looks up and moans. She pushed herself up and looks at Seung in the eyes.

“Seung, as much as I love the Twilight franchise, I am not a vampire! Sadly that shit doesn’t exist and whatever happened to me was just some random assault.” She groans.

SeungYeon opens her mouth as to say something but closes it when she sees HanDong’s face. She gets up and paces around a little before her face lights up again. She pounces back onto the bed and takes Handong by the shoulders causing the older girl to growl. Seung leans back a little, releasing her grip on her best friend.

“Dong, you need to go back to that club!” SeungYeon said, Handong sighing but agreeing with her before tackling the taller girl causing a huge fit of giggles.

It had been weeks since the incident at the club but HanDong could never find the mysterious girl that had attacked her. She went to the club most nights asking around for a grey-haired girl but no one could provide her with answers. She was growing frustrated because after the attack she had been having awful dreams of her chasing things in the woods, ripping people’s throats out and a bloody figure lurking in the shadows. Her features had also changed drastically. Her orange her was now a lot flowier, her muscles were a lot more toned, her lips darker and her teeth a lot more pointy. She just thought it was the side effects of whatever drug she had been given that night. Her attitude had also changed a lot the girls had noticed. She was always tired during the day and her skin had paled in color and would burn a lot easier in the sun. She would snap at the girls for little things and spend hours out at night. Her style had changed from nerdy and cute to sexy and dark. It was a Friday night and HanDong was out at the club trying to seek out her attacker as usual. Only this time she came alone. She was now aquatinted with the bouncer that was outside the club after coming night after night to find the girl.

“Hey Heechul, how are you tonight?” She sais with a grin.

“I’m good HanDong, you ?” He smiled back.

She nodded before making her way into the dark and humid club. She scanned the dance floor once but decided to get a drink. Another perk since the attack was that her alcohol tolerance had increased immensely. She sat on one of the bar stools and called over the same waiter from her first night here. He served a cocktail with a smile before leaving. She slowly sipped on the colored beverage while looking over the club for her target. After a while, she still hadn’t spotted the girl. So she placed the empty glass on the bar and walked over to the dance floor. As she arrived most of the girls slowly grew closer and closer to her, trying to dance with her or more. She ignored most of them but when she felt a familiar pair of hands on her hips she gasped. She spun around but no one was behind her. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion but soon returned her attention to dancing. She then felt the hands up her butt and squeeze making the girl moan. She grabbed the hands before they could disappear again and spun around. She was greeted with the grey-haired girl once again. She smiled and pulled her towards the bathrooms. She threw the grey-haired girl in front of her and slammed the door shut behind her.

“You…” the attacker mumbled.

“What the hell did you do to me? For weeks I’ve been tripping out! My whole body has changed! I’ve changed! Whatever you injected me with weeks ago is still working! I even feel like I’m not breathing !! Care to explain?!” The Chinese girl lashed out.

The grey-haired girl just stood there and grinned. She pulled out a small glass tube and stretched her arm out towards the blond girl. HanDong furrowed her brows and tilted her head to the right. She stared at the tube then at the girl. She stepped back a little, coming back to back with the bathroom door. The whole situation had flipped. For once she had felt like she had control only to watch it slip from her grasp.

“Drink this.”

“No. I don’t know you and you attacked me! Why the hell would I trust you?”

“You’ll need it. You’ve already started the transition. If you don’t then you’ll die. Simple as.”

HanDong had gradually walked closer and closer to the grey-haired girl as she spoke, not realizing that her body had moved on its own, making the taller girl grin in satisfaction.

“Okay then, if you don’t want to drink it, come with me. And my name is YooHyeon.” She spoke before pulling HanDong out of the club.

[em-responds-to-things]

Perturbation

Chapter Two: Emotions Are Complicated

Pairing: N/A

Requested: Nope

Summary: With Austin locked up, Cassandra has to figure out how to handle everything on her own, striking up a friendship with one of the mutants who saved her.

GIF Not Mine 

Chapter One <- Chapter Two

Based on 1x01 - eXposed

A hiss escaped Austin's lips as he woke up. He knew by the pain in his shoulder that he wasn’t dead although looking around he might as well be. A plastic box surrounded him, separating him from the two people who had just walked in to the interrogation room. "Who are you people? Where the hell am I?" Austin asked through clenched teeth, leaning against the side of the cube closest to them. He looked at them intently ending up on the decision that they weren’t Sentinel Services. 

"I’m Reed Strucker and this is my associate. You’re in a mutant detention centre, Mr Williamson." The man wearing the suit told him. Austin bobbed his head and kissed his teeth, taking a step back so he was in the middle of the box.

"Plastic. That’s a smart choice." He hummed, trying to make it seem that he wasn’t in fact terrified of what’s going to happen to him.

"You’re accused of the attempted murder of a police officer. That and the enhanced sentencing for the use of your mutant abilities-" Reed carried on but got interrupted by a laugh coming from Austin.

"You don’t need to tell me how screwed I am."

"We can reduce the charges for your cooperation. Just tell us the location of the mutant underground."

"The mutant what?" Austin asked, not knowing what he was on about. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. The blonde haired boy had heard whisperings of a place that helped other mutants but he didn’t know the location.

"Come on, Mr Williamson. You know what I’m talking about." Reed prompted him, not believing his ignorance. "Just tell us where it is and your sentence will be reduced. We’ll even get the help your sister needs."

That’s what caused Austin's calm and collectedness to break. He stalked as far to Reed as he could get and hit the wall. "Wh- what did you say? My sister is fine."

"I’ve read both of your files, Mr Williamson, she needs help and I can give that to her if you just help me." Reed said, trying to persuade him to give him a location. When that didn’t work he took a piece of paper out of the folder he was holding and held it up to Austin who scanned over it, taking a step back while he processed everything.

"No, no, no." He began muttering over and over again. A part of him thought, hoped, this was just an elaborate plan to get him to tell them the location of the mutant underground but deep down he knew they weren’t lying, no one would lie about that. Austin didn’t even hear Reed tell him to think about it or leave. He was too consumed with concern for his sister and anger that he was stuck in here that he began hitting the wall of the box, settling on that as he couldn’t use his powers.

—

Clarice walked up to John who was stood, leaning against a wall, watching the new mutant they had recently saved while she just sat on the bench in the middle of the abandoned bank they call home. Cassie sat with her head sunken, eyes screwed shut as she gripped the bench either side of her. "She still not talking?" Clarice asked John. Since bringing her back he had been carefully observing her and making note of her mannerisms.

John shook his head to Clarice's question which gave her enough reason to go over to where Cassie was sat. She carefully perched on the seat beside her, not wanting to startle the young mutant. "Hi, I’m Clarice." She introduced making Cassie glance at her before looking back down to the floor, just wanting to be left alone. Clarice waited a moment before trying to get her to talk again. "We’re going to find your brother, okay. We’re doing everything we can to find him."

Cassie snapped her head up at what Clarice had just said. "How can you be so sure?" She asked her, surprising the purple haired mutant with how forceful her tone is. Clarice struggled to come up with something to say although Cassie didn’t give her a chance to speak as she carried on. "Austin said that if you get caught you will never get heard from again meaning that he is gone, that we will never find him." The more Cassie spoke the tighter her grip on the bench got.

"Marcos..." Clarice started when she saw him walk pass having heard everything Cassie had just said. She also looked up recognising Marcos as being close with the girl her brother had tried to save.

Cassie got up and followed him into the repurposed vault. She stood in the doorway, playing with her sleeves as she worked up the courage to talk to him. It wasn’t until Marcos noticed the timid girl that he stopped welding the piece of metal on the table. "I’m- I’m sorry... for getting your friend caught and- and saying that you won’t find her." Cassie apologised.

While Marcos was upset about losing Lorna, he wasn’t going to aim his frustrations at Cassie. Just by looking at her he could tell she were torn up about what happened. Plus, she also lost someone. "Hey, it’s not your fault." He assured her. "I’m sorry that your brother got caught too. I promise though we’ll find him. Both of them."

"How- how can you be so sure?"

"Hope." Was all Marcos said. That’s all he could do, hope that he reunites with the woman he loves. Cassie bobbed her head not really knowing what to say to that. For her, hope was hard to have when the person who gave it her was locked up.

Looking around the room, Cassie's eyes landed on a dog that was laying on its bed beside the couch. She slowly approached the dog, not wanting to spook it. "Is- is this your dog?" She asked, reaching out to pet it.

"She’s everyone’s dog really. Her name is Zingo." Marcos told her, a small smile forming as he watched Cassie, for the first time since coming here, relax.

Watching her reminded him of someone very close to him. That thought was soon interrupted though by his phone going off. Looking at it, Marcos frowned seeing that it was an unknown number. He glanced up seeing that Cassie was distracted with Zingo and walked off to the side to get some privacy.

Cassie didn’t need to listen into the conversation to know it’s about his friend. She could feel it. "Is everything okay?" She found herself asking. Marcos's head snapped to her, as if he forgot that she was even there.

"How about me and you take a drive." He said, not answering her question. Biting her lip, Cassie thought about his offer for a second. While she couldn’t discern what his aim or plan was, she did want to leave the mutant underground, even if it was just for an afternoon.

—

The car journey was quiet. Cassie sat, watching the Atlanta streets whiz past the window while Marcos was driving. Every so often he glance over at the blonde girl noticing that not once has she spoken nor looked at him, she was closed off. "I thought I should let you know where we’re going. We’re meeting a guy who needs our help, claiming he could help us get Lorna and your brother out."

Cassie's ears perked up at the mention of her brother. "Why- Why did you bring me then?"

"Because, I thought you should hear what he has to say. Your brother was also taken." Marcos told her. Cassie bobbed her head before turning to look out of the window, the car falling silent again. "I know how you’re feeling, Cassie. I lost someone close to me; my sister, Gabby. I know how it feels to be with this one person for the whole of your life and then all of a sudden gone." He spoke up.

"She died." It was a statement as apposed to a question. Cassie could feel the wave of grief in the car.

"Yeah." Marcos confirmed, pulling up to the location of the meeting. "I know that you must be feeling alone right now but I want you to know that you’re not alone, okay?" Cassie gave him a small nod paired with a small smile.

The bar was somewhat secluded. The front was simple yet dingy, a place that you wouldn’t find Cassie in. She stood, frozen in place, taking in the building. Marcos noticed her hesitation and stopped walking, turning to face her.

"It’s okay. This is a mutant hangout. We’re safe." He assured her which seemed to have worked as Cassie slowly began walking, following Marcos closely.

Once inside, they found an empty booth. Marcos slid in with Cassie sitting next to him on the end. The bartender walked past handing the both of them a drink. Cassie pushed hers to the side, while Marcos took a sip of his. She kept her head down and began playing with her hands, a nervous habit she has. It wasn’t until the door went and Marcos shone a light in the newcomers direction that she looked up. She didn’t need to use her powers to tell that he was scared. Not of her and Marcos but something else. He looked worn out, like more had happened to him in the last twenty four hours than in the last twenty years.

"This isn’t a set up and there are no cops." The man, who Cassie has yet to learn his name, said after Marcos's spiel.

"Tell me about Lorna and Austin." Marcos started his line of questioning while Cassie remained quiet, observing the older man.

"They’re in a detainment centre."

"Which one?" He asked him straight away. Reed didn’t answer though, wanting to ensure the safety of his family first. Cassie wasn’t happy with that answer. It was like something clicked inside of her. The location of her brother was so close, she was so close to seeing him again, alive.

"Tell me where they are!" Cassie demanded and grabbed his arm, her powers activating uncontrollably. They both gasped at the sudden surge of power. Cassie from her using her powers and Reed from the sorrow she was projecting onto him. She snatched her hand away, shocked at what she just did, and scrambled out of her seat and out of the bar leaving Marcos calling after her and Reed staring at his arm where Cassie's hand was.

After five minutes, Marcos came out of the bar found Cassie sitting on the floor, leaning against the car. Her hands were shaking as she kept running her fingers through her blonde hair, her chest rose up and down as her breathing was erratic. Marcos kneeled beside her, grabbing her hands so she would stop hurting herself. "I’m so sorry." Cassie kept muttering over and over again.

"It’s okay. You’re okay. No one was hurt." He told her, trying to calm her down which seemed to have worked a little. "How about we get out of here, huh?" Marcos stood up, holding his hand out for Cassie. She held it, using it to get herself up.

—

Cassie wrapped her arms around her body, kicking the puddle on the ground as her and Marcos waited for the arrival of Reed and his family. After a few hours, the two of them snuck out of the underground. Cassie didn’t originally want to come along after what happened at the bar but went anyway, wanting to see this through for Austin.

A car pulled up and Reed and his family all climbed out of the car, walking over to Marcos. He began telling them the plan while Cassie stood off to the side keeping look out, even though it was unlikely anyone would come. She hesitantly looked over at Reed who caught her. The look he was wearing wasn’t a scared one, it was one of pity. Cassie's gaze flickered from him to the incoming fleet of Sentinel Service cars. "M- Marcos." She called out gaining his attention, pointing in the direction of the cars.

"Who did you tell? What did phone did you use?" Marcos began grilling them, panic rising in his voice.

"No one and I used a new sim so no one could track it." Reed told him.

"They always find a way." He mumbled, looking for a way out only to realise they were surrounded. Cassie shut her eyes, embracing herself for what’s about to come. All she could do was hope that she would be reunited with Austin.

Her expectations didn’t come true though as the sound of John's voice and several footsteps interrupted her thoughts. She opened her eyes seeing him and Clarice at a door that would lead them into one of the surrounding warehouses and ultimately their escape.

Everyone started running and kept running through the building with Sentinel Services right behind. With them on their heels and their robots now out, Cassie knew they wouldn’t escape, not like this, so she stopped in her place and screwed shut her eyes, holding her hands out in front of her as she focused her powers onto the group of people in front of her.

Marcos ran back when he saw that Cassie was no longer following him, with John behind him. "Cassie!" He called out, sharing an uneasy look with John when he saw the Sentinel Service Officers on the floor; some curled up in balls, others sporting blank looks. What they all had in common though was that terror flowed through their veins, the total opposite of what they were feeling earlier. Inching closer, Marcos could see blood dripping down from Cassie's nose and that she was in some sort of catatonic state. "Cassie!" He tried again, this time placing his hands on her shoulders and gave her a little shake.

She slowly turned her head to look at Marcos and fell against him slightly, weak from using her powers excessively. He was saying something to her but she couldn’t hear him. Everything sounded distant right now. Cassie didn’t even realise that she was being led somewhere until they reached Clarice who had a portal open for everyone to get through and everyone did get through except Reed. The last thing Cassie saw was him getting shot by the same officers that she had previously subdued.

Requests are open

A/N: Just some notes about this series. It is loosely based on the show and Clarice is already in the Mutant Underground before the first chapter/first episode but only for around a month so she’s still fairly new

Tag List (Still Open): @mayaslifeinabox @lunarmoonwolf @princess-of-the-fandoms @live--aloud @les-bio-lie @ivvitm1109 @sutoritaimu @fangirling-central @missmeganrachel @hanabiri @playbucky @therealmrshale @lostnliterature @sweetblink

MASTERLIST

[taikoturtle]

Trimberly Short Fic

From the tumblr prompt “Actually… I just miss you.” 

Requested by @clairebear1127 nearly four months ago and I’m so sorry I’m only getting to this now but I hope you like it!

read it on AO3

-

Trini doesn’t consider herself a needy person, but when she agreed to continue her long distance relationship with Kimberly after high school she failed to anticipate just how much she’d come to miss her. How much she’d miss waking up beside her on a lazy Saturday morning, cuddled beneath a snug blanket with Kimberly’s arms wrapped around her in a warm embrace. How much she’d miss being able to call her up on a sudden whim to grab coffee, or see her at the drop of a hat should either of them have a horrible day and need to vent.

And okay, when Trini says long distance, she really means it’s just a six hour drive that separates them and she should be grateful that it’s not a flight halfway around the world, but going from a ten minute bike ride to a six hour car ride is still a significant adjustment in her books.

After high school graduation, Trini and Kimberly sent out several applications to various colleges and universities both in and around Angel Grove, as well as a few that were out of state. Kimberly got into one of her top choices miles and miles away.

Trini did not.

“I don’t want to leave you,” Kimberly had said one day when they were in her room with acceptance letters scattered around in a mess of papers and ripped envelopes.

“You’re not leaving me,” Trini responded softly, “you’ll just be leaving Angel Grove. I don’t want to be the reason you hold yourself back. You’ve got so much potential and if you got into one of your top choices then you deserve to go.”

Kimberly looked broken, absolutely torn with indecision, but Trini pulled her into a tight hug and told her not to worry. She wanted to reassure her that everything would be okay, but she also wanted to prevent Kimberly from seeing the pain that was so clearly written on her face. It would be a tough road ahead, and as much as Trini wanted to be selfish, to tell Kimberly to stay by her side, it just wouldn’t be the right thing to do.

“We’ll make it work, I promise.”

So off she went to a four year college while Trini stayed back to attend Angel Grove University. By all means, AGU is still a tremendously great school to attend, however it’s just not the same without the gang all together.

Trini went in undeclared. She figured she could knock out a majority of her required general courses first and would settle on a major later down the road. Her parents want her to be a doctor or a nurse, just anything in the medical field that’ll be lucrative, but they obviously don’t know her that well. Stitching people up has never been her strong point; she excels at putting bodies in the hospital, not the other way around. However, she has another year or so to figure it out before she has to declare so she’s not particularly worried.

Instead, the thoughts that occupy her mind are more often than not, entirely Kimberly-oriented, like what is she up to right now, or what new friends has she made.

What crushes she might be developing.

And it’s totally stupid, Trini knows. She can trust Kimberly - she trusts her with her life - but Kimberly’s activity on social media had a nasty habit of generating a conflicting cocktail of happiness, jealousy, and insecurity. Slowly her Instagram feed was filling with strangers’ faces and unknown names.

It felt like Trini was being replaced, and though it hurt like a bitch, she took solace in the fact that as long as Kimberly was happy, then so was she.

In the beginning, they talked on the phone nearly every night, recounting the day’s events to one another. Kimberly checked out several clubs on campus ranging from casual sports to cultural focused and she sounded absolutely ecstatic. Everything was new and shiny and it always brought a smile to Trini’s lips as she layed in bed with the phone pressed to her cheek, staring at her bedroom ceiling as Kimberly gushed about every little detail. She looked forward to her phone calls and the occasional video Skype with Kimberly, it’s often what motivated her throughout the day, but as the weeks passed through the quarter, things started changing.

The calls came less and less frequently. Between studying for classes and club obligations, Kimberly simply had no time or was too tired from spreading herself thin. It didn’t help that Trini applied for a job on campus at the convenience store near the food court so any respite from the hustle and bustle of work and classes was hard to come by.

Their conversations turned into sporadic texts whenever either could spare a moment and it was starting to take a toll on Trini’s nerves.

Once she had asked her mom if she could borrow the car for the weekend, to which June simply scoffed and denied her outright.

“The car is a privilege reserved for school,” she stated firmly, “and nothing more.”

It deflated Trini on the spot. She was this close to packing her bags for the weekend and toughing out a drive to go see Kimberly, but no car meant no road trip, so she skulked her way back upstairs and tossed herself onto her bed, dejected and full of frustration.

She wanted to talk about her feelings and reservations with Kimberly, but every time she tried, something held her back and she would end up having a change of heart.

I’m not jealous, Trini would convince herself, I’m not needy. Kimberly can hang out with whoever she wants. I’m not going to be that person who restricts her from having fun or keep tabs on who she sees on a daily basis.

“Dude, just tell her.” Zack, in his ever blunt yet insightful way, would advise. “If you guys are really that good with each other, then just communicate that clearly. Nothing good ever comes from bottling things up or assuming shit about how the other may feel.”

Zack remained in Angel Grove and got a job as an apprentice at an auto mechanic’s shop so he could help support his mom while feeding his interest in cars. This often made him the most accessible whenever Trini needed a friend to lean on, so they’d end up going to Krispy Kreme’s and Trini would treat him to donuts and coffee while she voiced her concerns. He’d try and respectfully deny the free food, but it was her way of paying him back for all the times she subjected him to her woeful rants.

“If it’s bugging you this much, you gotta say something,” he said before somehow shoving an entire glazed donut into his mouth in one go.

Trini cringed at his eating habits, but took his words to heart.

//

“God, why is this so difficult?”

With only a couple weeks left in the quarter, Trini finds herself lying on her back in bed on a Saturday night with books strewn every which way in preparation for finals. Carefully highlighted notes and open textbooks mean nothing to her when they look like ancient hieroglyphics given her current state.

It’s hard to study with Kimberly on the mind.

“Kimberly, can we talk? No, that sounds like I’m going to break up with her. Kimberly, there’s something important I need to tell you? No, that still sounds too… bad.”

Trini rolls over and angrily lets out a huff. Her phone rests inches away from her hand, the screen dark and inactive, and a yearning ache fills her chest with a swallowing, hollow emptiness.

She misses everyone.

She misses the gang altogether, she misses their hangouts and training sessions, and she misses that feeling of belonging, like a true family in many ways.

Her lecture halls at the university are far too large to make any true friends, and while her parents are trying their best to be more warm and receptive, Trini still feels like a stranger in her own home. The Power Rangers were everything to her, but now that they are fractured with their lives headed in different directions, Trini doesn’t know where she fits into the picture anymore.

Most of all, she misses Kimberly.

Warm tears pool at the corners of her eyes before trickling down the sides of her face. She doesn’t even try to wipe them away because there’s no use; they’re not stopping because the growing void in her chest isn’t going away.

She hates feeling so pitiful because normally people regard her as the strong one, where nothing can faze her, but things such as this strikes a deep chord within her. She knows what it felt like to be alone, but now that she knows what it feels like to have been a part of something bigger, she doesn’t want to go back.

“Why can’t things just be simple?” Trini mutters to herself quietly. “Growing up sucks.”

TAP TAP TAP

A loud rapping on the window startles her out of her wallowing musings and her senses fire on high alert. Memories of Rita flash before her eyes and fear begins to grip her nerves. Jaw clenched and fists balled, Trini slides off her bed and cautiously approaches the window.

There’s no way it could be Rita again. They knocked her into the sky ages ago so it makes no sense that she would return now, let alone have the common decency to knock. It could be a new enemy that Zordon didn’t inform them of, but once again, why would they even bother to knock. Unless…?

Gulping heavily with uneasy anticipation, Trini’s clammy hand grips the curtain and yanks it aside in one swift motion.

“Kimberly?!”

Grinning like a kid, Kimberly waves excitedly at her from beyond the weathered glass.

What the hell is she doing here?

“You going to let me in or not?” Kimberly asks through clattering teeth. “It’s freaking cold out here.”

Shaking off her stupor, Trini fumbles with the locks on her window before hastily yanking it open. A chilly gust of crisp winter air fills the room as Kimberly hops over the sill and lands on the carpet beyond the cluttered desk. Trini closes the window securely and gapes at her in stunned disbelief.

Her hair is longer than the last time they skyped, resting a few inches below her shoulders, and she looks absolutely amazing in her dark washed jeans, cranberry colored shirt and sleek leather jacket, but those details get tossed to the wayside the moment Kimberly’s lips come crashing down on hers.

Trini stumbles backwards from the sheer force, her back bumping into the desk, spilling pencils and papers everywhere, but she doesn’t care because Kimberly is pressing against her hungrily as if making up for lost time or the long distance that’s come between them.

In some ways it feels like it has been years since Trini’s felt the warmth of Kimberly’s body, smelled the comforting scents of her tropical shampoo, or heard her light, breathy moans. She’s missed how familiar her lips feel against her own and how her hands seem right at home clutching at the small of Kimberly’s back.

It leaves Trini wanting more, craving to dive deeper and lose herself to the fire running through her veins, but she has so many questions lingering at the back of her hazy mind that she can’t ignore.

Trini pulls back, breaking the kiss and causing Kimberly’s lips to give chase for a second before she pauses and gazes at her. Chest heaving in and out, gasping for air, Trini swallows thickly as she maintains eye contact, searching for the right words.

“What are you doing here, Kim?”

Flinching at the question, Kimberly chuckles weakly. “Not happy to see me?”

Trini presses a soft, gentle kiss to Kimberly’s lips and smiles. “Dummy. I’m always happy to see you, but…” Her words trail off in hesitation - where does she even begin? “...Why now?”

“I… uh…” Kimberly’s brow furrows, her eyes now averted. She’s biting her lip as if contemplating the heaviest question in the world, but after several more beats of silence - save for their now even breathing - she continues on. “Okay well, actually… I just miss you.”

“You do?”

“Of course!” Kimberly breathes out instantly. “And I know I haven’t been the best at keeping up with our calls and everything, but I’m going to work on it because god, I just miss you so much. I didn’t want to bother you since I know you’re busy with work and your family, but I think about you everyday and I finally couldn’t take it anymore so… here I am.”

Her glistening eyes are downcast through the whole confession, and it isn’t until she takes a deep, shuddering breath does she dare look back at Trini. “I’m not being too needy, am I?”

What an ironic turn of events.

Those very same thoughts that had been plaguing her mind for months on end had been the same thorn in Kimberly’s side.

A muted laugh escapes Trini’s mouth and at first it draws a sour, hurt expression on Kimberly’s features, but she immediately explains herself.

“Honestly, I was feeling the same way,” Trini starts tentatively. “I didn’t want to come off as too clingy or controlling and seeing how much fun you were having on your instagram and snapchat stories I was just… jealous? Afraid maybe? I don’t know, but whatever the case, I just want you to know that I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t know whether Kimberly can hear the pain in her voice or feel the trembling in her limbs, but at that moment she knew precisely what was needed.

Pulling Trini into a crushing hug, Kimberly squeezes her tightly and whispers just for her.

“I love you Trini.”

It’s sincere and vulnerable and exactly what Trini needed to hear. Beyond the words, the hug itself is charged with unspoken emotions–it says reassurance, it means unending devotion, it’s the promise of a future together.

“I love you too.”

//

It’s nearing four in the morning by the time Trini flops on her back, gasping for air and with a thin layer of perspiration coating her skin. Her face is flushed and fatigued, but clearly satisfied. “I’ve definitely missed this.”

Kimberly stifles a laugh, not wanting to wake anyone in the household - especially in their current state of undress.

Rolling lazily onto her side, Trini frowns slightly as she stares oddly at Kimberly. “You know, I’ve been wondering something.”

“Yeah?”

“How exactly did you get here? You don’t have a car and the buses don’t run this late.”

Kimberly inhales sharply. “So... funny story, but I might have borrowed the Pterodactyl Zord.”

“You what?!”

Zordon gave Kimberly the biggest scolding of her life about abusing their powers and risking exposure, but damn was it worth it.

[lenfaz]

Time Upon Once, Ch. 10 (10/?)

Summary:  Killian Jones is a bailbonds man, living in Boston and doing his own thing. But on his 29th birthday, a kid knocks on his door and claims to be his son. What happens when Killian is forced to face his past along with a mystery prophecy about his own purpose in life?

Rating: M (eventually)

A huge thank you to @tnlph @businesscasualprincess and @blessed-but-distressed  for beta duties and @shady-swan-jones for the banner!

Tagging a few people that showed interest in this story:@lk0622 @nowforruin @sambethe @xemmaloveskillianx  @l-e-x-a-xd @profoundlyfadedprincess @once-uponacaptain @icecubelotr44  @poetic-justice-96 @allietumbles @el-kelpo @jennjenn615 @leiandcharles  (want to be tagged? let me know and I’ll do it)

on Tumblr: I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX

ao3 ff.net

A/N:  This chapter falls on the short side and it might give the feeling of a filler, but it's more like a transitional one. There was a huge time jump in the season that the show never addressed, so I'm trying to make up for it the best I can :) (think of it as the end of 1A before 1B begins-)

Chapter X

“What in the blazes are you doing here, August?”

“Killian Jones… of all the places in the world we could have run into each other…” August trailed off, and it was as if he wasn’t even shocked to find Killian there. It made Killian’s skin crawl and all his senses went on full mode alert. A big part of him wanted to tower over August and unleash the feelings he’d been harboring over a decade, allowing himself to finally let out his frustrations about the events that led him to be separated from Emma.

But right now, with Henry standing beside him, was not the time. He was not the same man he’d been a decade ago. He was not even the same man he’d been a few months ago. Revenge was no longer a priority in his life. His ten year old son was.

“You know what August? Save it for another night. Now is not the time.”

“Killian wait!”

Killian didn’t even stay to listen to August explanations, tugging his son by his sleeve, his only concern at that moment keeping Henry away from the man. He’d have time to track him down later and demand what the bloody hell he was doing in town.

He was still mulling over his August problem at breakfast the next morning, when Mary Margaret barged into the kitchen, half shrugging on her winter coat whilst rushing to pull on her boots, her toothbrush still dangling between her teeth.

“I can’t believe I overslept!” she said after she’d washed her mouth out, and discarded the toothbrush on the sink.

Her entire demeanor was so unlike her that Killian hesitated to ask.  “It’s only seven ten. You have time to get to school. Mary Margaret, is everything okay?”

“Oh yes,” she said as she headed for the door, but she seemed anything but okay. “I just have to be at school at seven fifteen. Science fair. I’m helping some kids with their project before school.”

“Five minutes won’t make a difference, lass,” he tried to assure her.  

“We’re making a volcano,” she retorted halfway outside the door, leaving Killian with that tingly sensation that he’d been lied to.

Never one to just let things alone, he finished his breakfast quickly and rinsed the bowl, grabbed his keys and stepped out to trace Mary Margaret’s steps. It didn't take him long to track her down. To Granny’s, of all places. Killian squeezed into the diner through the back door, arriving just in time to see her exchange a few words with David before the man left with two coffees, handing one to the wife that was waiting for him out in the car.

Mary Margaret’s look of longing as the station wagon disappeared from view nearly broke his heart, and he wanted to punch himself for not seeing the signs sooner.

He took a few tentative steps towards the table where she sat, looking dejected. “This is making a volcano?”

Mary Margaret’s expression quickly turned from shock to guilt. “I was-”

“I get it,” he sighed as he took a seat opposite her.

“He comes here every morning at seven fifteen a.m. to get coffee,” Mary Margaret deadpanned, her hands interlaced with each other as she rest them on the table.

“For him and his wife.” He hated to be the one to point that out, but he needed her to understand that this was not going to end well for her.

She shook her head as if he were stating the obvious - which in a way he was - and she didn’t need the lecture. “I know, I know, I know. I just like to…come here to see him.”

That was the understatement of the morning. “So you’re stalking him?” He couldn't help himself, and if he didn’t feel so guilty for putting her through this in the first place, he might have found her shocked expression endearing.

“No, not really…” she tried to justify herself. “Maybe a little bit. I mean, it’s not like I’m following him. I just know that he spends his mornings with Kathryn, gets coffee, then drives to the animal shelter to start work at seven thirty and then he’s home around five.”

Well, she was thorough, Killian could give her that. “And that would be all?” he prodded.

Mary Margaret sighed in defeat. “Thursdays they pick up Chinese for dinner.”

“One thing is certain, you’d be great in bailbonds.” Maybe he could convince her to ditch this town and her job and come work with him in Boston if things went south in here. She’d make a great honeytrap, he was sure of it. Those huge, innocent eyes of hers?  What man wouldn’t fall under her spell?

She sagged against the table with a defeated sigh. “I can’t get him out of my head.”

He could relate. How many countless hours had he spent retracing all of his and Emma’s old hideouts and hangouts in the hopes he might run into her again? “I know, trust me, I know.” But even he had eventually put a stop to that. “Maybe the first step is not showing up here tomorrow. You can’t do this to yourself. You deserve better.”

She banged her forehead softly against the table. “Love’s the worst. I wish there was a magic cure.”

Sometimes, he’d wished for that too. Only it would probably meant taking the good with the bad, and he wouldn’t have traded one single minute of his time with Emma for his peace of mind.

/-/

The storm warning came out over the radio a little after he left the diner, and Killian entertained himself with gathering all the supplies he needed before it hit, following the procedures he’d read time and again over the past few weeks. The wind had picked up, so he donned one of the jackets the department kept at the station. He was in the process of loading up the patrol car with essential supplies when he noticed Regina approaching him with a stern face.

“If you’re here to blame me for the storm, I think you’re taking things a bit far now,” he bit out as he placed the portable battery and cables down on the backseat.

Regina ignored his quip. “I need you to look into something, Sheriff. Someone’s in town – someone new.”

“That would be one August Booth.” Killian felt a momentary stab of satisfaction at Regina’s dumbfounded expression. “Dark haired fellow on a motorcycle?”

She nodded, her eyes narrowing suspiciously “Do you know him?”

“Trust me, you want to stay far away from that man, Madam Mayor,” he advised, closing the car trunk with a definitive thunk. “And keep Henry away from him, as well.”

“That seems to be the problem, Sheriff. He was in front of my house. Taking a particular interest in the one thing we both care about.”

Henry. Bloody hell.

His anguish must have been written all over his face because Regina gave him a pointed look. “Where do you know this man from? And why is he here?”

“I know him from back in the day, before I went to jail,” he admitted. He wasn’t sure Regina wouldn’t use that against him, but he couldn’t take the chance of Henry getting hurt because he wasn’t completely forthcoming with his mother.

“Is he following you?” He could hear the accusations loud and clear.

“I haven’t seen him in a decade.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know why he’s here, but I will talk to him and find out.”

He took two steps towards her. “And he won’t get near Henry again. I’ll see to it.”

“You’d better, Sheriff. Because he seemed oddly familiar with my son.”

“Maybe was one of the thousands you cursed,” he quipped as he turned away from her.

/-/

The storm was in full swing with driving rain, thunder and gale force winds by the time Killian found August, sitting at a booth at Granny’s. Killian shook the rain from his hair and cracked his neck to one side to the other before he made his way towards August, sitting opposite him without ceremony.

“And now we talk, mate.” His tone was almost ruthless, but the idea of August nearby Henry was giving Killian goosebumps. He wasn’t sure of the extent of August’s involvement in the events that led to his little stint in jail, but August and Neal had been part of the same group back in the day. Whether or not August was in with Neal to frame him for the watches, it wasn’t the time to delve into it.  He wasn’t going to open this chapter of his life back in front of all Storybrooke to see - and for Regina to hear. But even if August hadn’t been involved, he was shady enough for Killian to want him far, far away from his son.

August seemed to wait for him to say something else, so Killian cleared his throat, his hand tracing a pattern on the surface of the table. “I’ve gotten complaints of your suspicious behavior.”

“You’ve gotten complaints.” August had raised an eyebrow, as if he didn’t quite give Killian’s words credence.

He enjoyed the way August’s eyes widened as he placed his badge on the table, tapping it with the tip of his finger. “Sheriff Jones, at this town’s service.”

“Would you look at that” August picked up the badge and examined it carefully before placing it back on the table. “You’ve come a long way since the last time I saw you, Killian.”

When Killian didn’t reply, August sighed. “Suspicious behavior? I’m sitting here, out in the open, drinking coffee.”

Killian cocked an eyebrow at him, not letting August follow with the nice-boy act. “You were talking to Henry.”

“The little kid who came up to me asking me questions? Is that unusual for him? Being curious and precocious?”

If he weren’t Sheriff and risking a complaint over police brutality, he’d be punching the bloody ponce right now. “What were you doing outside his house?” He tried to keep his tone calm and collected, with only a hint of a warning in it.

August shrugged. “My bike broke down. It happens. Is it illegal in this town to talk to strangers?”

“It’s dangerous for people to talk to the likes of you.” Killian’s eyes came to rest on the old wooden box August still carried. “What’s in the box?”

August’s eye twinkled with smugness. “All this time, and you still want to know what’s inside it, don’t you?”

“I can get a search warrant,” Killian said, in a way that let August know he wasn’t entirely kidding.

“On what basis?” August asked casually, leaning back in the booth. “Has it eaten you alive all these years, Killian? Wanting to know my secrets?”

He didn’t have time for this. A storm was unfolding, Mary Margaret hadn’t returned his texts and he needed to ensure everyone was safe. Killian stood up, glancing at the other man with a hint of condescension. “That was interesting a decade ago, mate, but I’m over your bloody nonsense now.”

“Well, you can promise me you’ll come with me one day, and I can show you…”

Emma had been right all along in hating the bastard and his theatrics.

“I’m not eighteen anymore, August. I don’t fall for that,” Killian warned, pointing a finger at him. “And stop talking to my son.”

August looked at him, his mouth forming a shocked ‘O’. “Henry? He’s your son? Yours and Emma’s?”

That act might have fooled any other, but not him. He could spot a lie a mile away and he didn’t buy it. “I’m done here.”

He took a few steps away, only to the stopped by August’s words. “Killian, wait. I’ll show you… as a token of goodwill.”

Killian turned around and waited, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, as August placed the box on the table and made a show of opening it.  And then August opened the lid and Killian finally learned August’s long-held secret. In the box sat an old typewriter, nothing more. He looked from it, back to its owner.

August shrugged. “I’m a writer, mate.”

Killian simply turned around without another word. He really hated the bloody fool.

/-/

The storm came and went, stretching into the night but leaving a bright morning as a gift. Killian sat down with his breakfast the next morning, quick to notice the way Mary Margaret fidgeted as she looked at the clock.

He could understand her agitation. It had been hard for him to let Emma go all those years ago. He still wasn’t sure he’d completely let go of her - alright, that was a lie, he knew he hadn’t - but he’d stopped looking for her frantically, only to be disheartened at every dead end. He’d stopped his constant lurking at all the spots they used to hang out together - and a few of hers she’d told him about - in hopes that she might materialize out of thin air. It took him years, but he’d stop turning around after each blonde that passed him on the street, hoping it was her. He’d finally given up - or simply convinced himself he’d given up - and buried her memory deep into his heart. What hurt the most was not the memories of what they had, but the aching pain of the memories they could have built together and were ripped away from him.

That was the worst kind of loss. The loss of the dreams your mind had conjured and life decided you couldn’t get. The loss of hope.

His hand reached for Mary Margaret’s, and her eyes focused on him. He gave her a soft smile and a light squeeze of her hand.

“It’ll be okay, darling.”

He wasn’t sure if it would be, but he was damn sure he’d try for it to be.

/-/

It turned out the storm had damaged Henry’s castle beyond repair and the bulldozing of the area had taken the hidden storybook along with the debris, Henry’s frantic search of the spot turning back nothing.

It was in these most dreary of conditions that the holiday season crept upon them and Killian did his best to be there for Mary Margaret as much as he could. And if he was putting on a suspicious amount of extra cheer while they were at it, in an attempt to distract himself from the things he was missing this holiday season, neither he nor she mentioned it.

His attempts to have Regina let him spend at least part of Christmas’ Eve or Day with Henry had gone awry from the first moment he had even dared to broach the subject. She’d snuffed out all his hopes with a condescending smile and a stark reminder that he had no rights over Henry, no matter how much he tried to weasel his way into his life and the town. He was no one, and he’d never be more than that.

The words had cut deep into him, making yet another dent into this heart, threatening to bring him down in a way like little else had in last decade. It was the first Christmas he’d dared to hope for something more than loneliness and a bottle of rum. And once again, he’d been reminded that hope was for other people. Happy family endings were not on the cards for him.

Nevertheless, he did his best to find what he thought would be the perfect gift for Henry. It had required a trip to the nearest town - as he didn’t find any decent bookstores in Storybrooke and he refused to go into Gold’s shop - but he finally got his hands on another fairytales and adventures book that he thought Henry might enjoy and perhaps it might help him ease the pain of losing his old one. He considered getting Mary Margaret a few novels, but chose to purchase a new cookbook for her, not wanting to bring her any heartache over love stories that might remind her of what she couldn’t have.

And thus, it was the day before Christmas when Killian snuck into a booth in Granny’s in time to share a hot chocolate and exchange gifts with his son. His eyes filled with tears at Henry’s handcrafted holiday card, and the sight of the black leather gloves and woolen beanie the lad had gifted him. He leaned in, holding his son in his arms as he let the words leave his mouth. Merry Christmas, Henry.

Mary Margaret’s knitted black scarf was the perfect addition to his rapidly expanding winter wardrobe and they both toasted to rum-spiked eggnog and shared a Christmas’ meal together before he headed to the Sheriff’s station to be on call.

New Year’s Eve was a different ordeal. Mary Margaret hinted about a friend’s gathering at Granny’s, but Killian was simply not in the mood to celebrate. Not that night. So he met her eyes - eyes that were able to read him with uncanny accuracy by now - and thanked her for the thoughts, wishing her a new year before she left the loft.

Shortly before midnight, the night found him at the docks, his new winter attire keeping him warm as he sipped rum from his father’s old flask. Another year without finding Emma. Another year spent alone, chasing the memory of her in each lonely night and trying to forget about her - even if just for a few hours - in each one night stand. Another year gone and his heart still beating for her.

He heard the first strike of the clock tolling midnight and stood up, heading for the rail. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Happy New Year, Swan. This was the year our son found me. I wish you could see him, Emma, and see how wonderful he is. Wherever you are, know that I miss you, my love.

He took a final gulp of the rum before pouring the rest of the liquor out into the sea, hoping the toast would reach her, wherever she was.

(not going to lie... those last part is one of my fav things I’ve written)