#fic: we fly by street signs

[signedkoko]

Could I get a Mammon, Vox and Husk with a S/O who gets harassed on the street and their reaction? You can have full creative control over what type of harassment!

I love your fics- if this isn’t getting the creative juices flowing just let me know and I’ll request something different <3

🦷 anon

Husk | Mammon | Vox [Romantic]

In which some loathsome idiot thinks they'll get away with harassing their beloved s/o.

One of your favourite date nights is spent bar hopping

Pop a drink or two in each one, sometimes sharing one cocktail, his wing draped around you, your head leant on his shoulder, humming to the music surrounding you

Both of you had a preference for the less popular spots, the kinds of places you got the weirdest combinations, where he could be inspired and you could give him thoughts

The plus side of the smaller joints was that the music was never too loud, drinks were cheaper, and there was always a few spots free at the bar

Downside was that most places had their regulars, the kind of people who couldn't get in anywhere else

The kind of desperation that builds and spreads like mold in the corner of a dark room next to a leaky pipe

On a few occasions, someone would harmlessly ask to buy you a drink and would turn tail when Husk gave them his usually 'fuck off' look

But this time, the guy would just not get the hint

" What? Already claimed dibs on the bitch? "

Yeah- no, that attitude towards you is not going to fly

Not even three seconds and there's a bottle smashed on the drunk demons head, and three cards flying back into Husk's hand

That's when the bleeding starts

You slap a 20 down for your bill and jump straight up, already being dragged by Husk out the door

Insists if he stayed there you would have both gotten banned anyways, and he likes that spot

You guys don't really go out so casually without a good reason, or just for old times sake

A sin and his spouse on a city street in greed was just asking for bad things to happen

But still, if you asked and he had nothing that day, Mammon would always rather get quality time with you and people watch

Thats most of your conversation, pointing out demons and joking about what you think they are like, what the do, how they speak

It's always a fun game, until some newcomer saw you laughing at him and marched right up, clearly on something and clearly ready to have a go at someone

The moment he reaches for your wrist, his thumb falls to the floor, a messy and jagged cut the only sign of attack besides one of Mammons spider legs now revealed

Before he can even realize the pain or what's happened, Mammon lets out a menacing laugh

" Every extra inch towards my broad is another finger. "

That demon was already screaming and running away, most the crowd on the street that was watching now hurrying in any direction opposite of you and Mammon

" I'm only worth one finger? "

" Nah. Just being generous for once. "

Not really a street guy, but unfortunately some press conferences and events require mingling and interacting with others, which he never liked

Thankfully, with you he has an excuse to stay away from others, or show you off

He usually goes for the latter

He's all 'Have you met my wife?' 'My wife loves x and y!' 'Isn't my wife absolutely gorgeous?'

You are the first topic he speaks of after his company; you'd be the first if he didn't have to waste so much time being a salesman, but that is how the cookie crumbles

Sometimes when there's specific press releases, he has to send you off for a moment, where you usually go and mingle with some of the others in his industry you befriended

During one such interview, he couldn't help but spot out the corner of his eye, some lousy business woman drape her arm around your waist and grab at your hip

" Sorry yeah, this interview is over. "

Literally shoves his way over, sparks and electricity flying, to rip you out of her arms

" Baaabe, is this a friend? Whatever the case, we really gotta get going! "

Jealousy 3000

He's glad he stepped in after he overhears that lady had a habit of harassing other attendees

New clause in every interview; they have to include you or provide security over you while he is busy

Author's Note - Tooth anon comes in for another PIPIN HOT request!! I actually feel so bad because every time I take a break form writing is on yoru request and that really makes it look bad I am so sorry 😩

[nickfowlerrr]

when you’re ready, come and get it

GIF by spaceslayer

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: no explicit smut. sexual content. some fluff. 18+ only.

words: 4.7k

notes: another random two am fic drop - who’s surprised? the starting dialogue of this fic had been sitting in my docs for almost two years and i finally got around to actually writing something for it lol. i hope you like it! thank you in advance for reading. as always, any comments and reblogs are always welcomed and so appreciated. let me know your thoughts! 🩵

Your back is sore as you head toward the door of the cramped little apartment you’re stuck in for the night.

Safe ‘house’ your ass.

“You had to use all the hot water?” Bucky yells from the bathroom you exited only minutes ago. You smirk to yourself and roll your eyes as you reach for the handle of the front door, “You’ll live,” you yell back, letting the closing of the door behind you signal your exit.

You’re in sweats and a long sleeve, sneakers on your feet and your phone in your pocket as you begin the short walk to the Chinese restaurant just down the street from the building you're staying in.

It’s been a long, grueling day and you are starving.

The further down the street you get, the closer the smell of the food - it keeps you moving despite the aches that are wrecking your body. Unsurprisingly, getting shoulder tackled by a super soldier leaves you a little worse for wear.

You almost groan out loud at the thought of him.

You have no idea how you’re going to get through this night.

It’s dark out, but the street lights gleaming off the wet pavement and the storefront signs of the few places still open light your way. At least it stopped raining.

You recognize the name of the shop, stop in front of the door and head in. The entrance bell jingles and a young man comes out from the back to greet you. You give him your name and only have to wait a minute before he comes back with the bag of food you ordered before your shower.

Your stomach growls as you start back down to the apartment.

All you want to do is climb into that bed, pop some advil, scarf down this food, and hopefully sleep off the pain you can feel creeping up your body, slowly but surely.

Your hunger again encourages your speed and before you can get lost in any thoughts, you’re back at the front door.

You unlock it and unthinkingly push it open with your shoulder. You grimace and bite back a growl at the pain that radiates up your neck and down your arm, and at the memory of being sent flying into trunks and boxes lining a cement wall, which you also ended up colliding with.

You sigh and shut the door, locking it behind you. You set the food down on the dark wooden table in the area you call the kitchen. You begin to take the containers out before you turn around to face the bed.

Your eyes narrow in on him instantly as annoyance surges in your veins at the sight before you.

“What are you doing?” you ask sharply, an accusation in your tone.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he replies without looking up from the tablet he’s working on. His hair is damp, a mess of dark brown he keeps behind his ears and out of his face. His brows are furrowed as he reads, all the while he’s laying with his ankles crossed, relaxing on the bed shirtless with his grey sweats low on his hips. Fucking hell.

You bite your tongue, fighting the scowl threatening to take over your face.

“Laying down in my bed, that’s what it looks like.”

“Who said it was your bed?” he challenges, finally looking up at you.

“I did. Just now. And also when we first got here two hours ago,” you point out.

“Well, it’s a good thing you have absolutely no authority over me, then, huh,” he smirks tauntingly as he tosses the tablet to the side.

“Get out of the bed, Barnes.”

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, sweetheart, but I’m not moving.”

He crosses his arms like a defiant toddler, his blue eyes almost twinkling with a dare to challenge him, self assured as he always is in your arguments. You lick your lip,

“I mean it, I’m not getting on the floor.”

He shrugs, “Don’t care. Not my problem.”

You can feel your skin getting hot from your irritation and your neck straining as you tense. You really aren’t in the mood for this. You can’t fight right now.

Well…you could. But you won’t. You have food to eat, you can argue who sleeps where later.

You shake your head and roll your eyes, “Jackass.”

You ignore him and walk into the bathroom without closing the door behind you. You wet your hands for a second under the sink water and then pump the sweet smelling soap into them, lathering up and washing your hands. Despite the sound of the running water, you can clearly hear the crinkling of the plastic bag that contains the food as you imagine Bucky is sorting through it all. You finish washing and turn the water back off.

“Don’t touch my lo mein,” you warn him, voice raised as you dry your hands on a towel.

You lean your head out past the door and see him as he twirls some noodles from your container.

“Jackass!” you accuse, throwing the towel down and marching from the bathroom right toward him.

“Don’t be greedy,” he chastises through his bite before grabbing his own container, unphased by your reproach.

“Greedy? As if you don’t have your own food.”

“Sharing is caring,” he taunts before he walks back over to the bed.

Your eyes follow him in disbelief. He sits back in his spot and makes himself comfortable. You scoff before turning back to the table. You grab your opened container and the pack of utensils the restaurant gave you and walk over to the bed, too. You feel Bucky’s eyes on you as you get to the other side of the bed.

“I told you I’m not moving.”

“And I told you I’m not sleeping on the floor. You can do whatever the hell you want.”

“So we’re sharing, then?” he asks. The smile pulling at the corner of his lips is easily pushed aside by you. You don’t want to read into it, so you won’t.

You twirl some lo mein and take a bite, “Sharing is caring,” you echo him as you make yourself comfortable.

You lean over and grab the remote to the 40 inch television hung on the wall across from you. You can complain about the tight quarters and the singular bed, but at least the place is relatively liveable. The tv was a surprise, but welcomed.

You leave it on the channel it lights up on, reruns of some procedural you’ve seen a hundred times over.

You eat in uncharacteristic silence, but every so often you can feel Bucky’s eyes on you. You don’t return his gaze, instead staying focused on your food and trying not to show your discomfort when the pain in your shoulder and neck blooms deeper as the night goes on. You’re grateful he seems to be worn from the mission, too. If he wasn’t, you know he’d have found something to pick with you about by now.

An hour passes and you’re both done with your food. You throw your trash away and head to the bathroom. You leave the door open as you brush your teeth and Bucky enters just as you finish. He watches you intently as you take a pain pill before shoving the bottle, along with the rest of your toiletries, back in your bag. Still, he’s quiet. You would normally call him out for his silence and staring, but you don’t have it in you to start something right now.

You turn to walk out of the bathroom and accidentally bump into him as he moves to step toward the sink.

You hiss at the pain it sends through you, so quiet that had it been anyone else, they wouldn’t have even noticed the sound that escaped you. But this wasn’t anyone else.

You don’t stop walking after you bump into him, just head back toward the bed without pause. Trying to act like nothing happened and that you are perfectly fine. Which you are! Aside from the stabbing pain radiating up and down your arm... you’re good.

You pull the comforter out all around the bed - better to avoid any tugging and pulling in front of Bucky if you can.

As you’re about to climb onto the bed, Bucky emerges from the bathroom. Still shirtless, still oddly silent. It’s starting to get a little unnerving now.

Slowly, you lay down, being careful not to move too fast and doing your best to not move your arm too much.

Bucky gets into bed beside you. You don’t want to, yet you can’t help but notice how gingerly he climbs in. As if he’s trying to make as little movement as possible.

You try to get comfortable, it’s not the first time you’ve had to share a bed on a mission, but with Bucky there’s always that extra heat…tension. Your pointless arguing about who will sleep where, both of you knowing you’ll end up sharing again only to vow the next morning to get the bed to yourself the next time you find yourselves in this situation, it’s damn near routine now. And yet, the tension remains. And the pain you’re feeling isn’t helping in the slightest.

Neither is his shirtlessness. He’s always like a furnace but somehow it feels like he’s radiating even more heat without the barrier of a shirt. You’d love to pull off your own, but the tightness in your shoulder would definitely protest the motion.

“You alright?”

Bucky’s voice breaks the silence. His tone is soft, voice quiet, but it still startles you a bit, catches you off guard.

“Uhm,” you breathe, hesitating, “I, uhm… ‘m fine,” you whisper back. His eyes are on you, you can feel them, but you don’t turn to look back at him.

A beat.

“Would you mind getting the light?” you ask in the same hushed tone.

Another beat.

The bed creaks a bit as Bucky gets up without a word.

The light cuts out and the television is the only thing left glowing in the darkened space of the studio.

He gets back into the bed, being just as careful as he was before, and grabs the remote you left in the space between you. He shuts off the tv and you take a breath, relaxing a bit now that you know he can’t really see you all too well.

You grimace as you readjust your head and shoulders under the pillow.

Ow.

You lay in silence. In pain and discomfort.

…You have some arnica in your bag you could roll on, but that would give you away in a second. You could roll onto your side but then you’d be facing Bucky and you don’t want to make things awkward…er.

You wait a few minutes before you peek over to him in the dark. From what you can tell, his eyes are closed, his breathing seems steady… Fuck it, you think. Whether he’s sleeping or not, you don’t want to feel this any longer than you have to. You quietly push the comforter off of yourself, kicking it off your feet, and delicately roll yourself up.

You keep the layout of the space in mind as you navigate around in the dark. You’re tiptoeing carefully, hopeful you haven’t accidentally woken him up as a floorboard creaks beneath you when you get to the table you left your bag on.

You find your toiletries bag and feel around until your hands grasp your roll-on. You walk lightly back over to the bed where you sit down.

You unscrew the cap and start rolling the cooling bliss up your neck and on your shoulder - the small part of it that’s exposed by your shirt, at least.

You sigh to yourself and loosely put the cap back on, dropping the bottle beside you.

Fuck it, you think again. Shirt’s comin’ off.

As soon as the material of your long sleeve is over your head, the lights come back on, eliciting a harsh gasp from you as you jerk your head in the direction of the light switches.

“Fucking hell, Bucky!” You chastise as you bring a hand up to rub at your neck. You moved too quickly when the lights came on and now a new wave of tension stabs at your neck and shoulder once more.

How the hell he managed to get out of the bed and across the room without you hearing is beyond you, but you aren’t really all that surprised.

“So when you said you were fine,” he walks back over to the bed, “what you meant was..?”

“Was that I’m fine,” you repeat yourself firmly, head downcast as you keep your back to him.

The smallest bit of self consciousness flares inside of you as you realize you’re in only a bra and sweats as he’s free to scan your body behind you, but you quickly decide you don’t care. You’re more focused on the strain and his apparent concern for you.

The bed moves and you feel the roll on being grabbed from beside your thigh. Bucky is right behind you now; you feel yourself freeze and inadvertently tense even more.

You inhale sharply as his hand meets your skin. You don’t move as his finger slips down the strap of your bra. You listen intently as he unscrews the cap and you sigh again as he moves the arnica roll on up and over your shoulder, just slightly down the slope of it, and then back up toward your neck as you let your arm relax, and then your head as you tilt it in the opposite direction to allow him more access to your neck. God, that feels good.

“I didn’t mean for you to get hurt,” he says quietly.

You furrow your brow. “I know that.”

“We didn’t have time, I wasn’t thinking,” he starts.

“I was directly in their line of fire, Bucky, I know.” You reach back and take the bottle from him, he lets you as you keep your gaze in front of you and your back to him. “Is that why you’ve been so quiet?” you laugh softly, “You felt bad about pushing me?”

You screw the cap back on and toss it, along with your shirt, gently to the floor beside you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, ignoring your questions.

“You don’t have to be sorry.” You finally turn to face him, moving your whole body, bringing a knee up on the bed as you climb back onto the mattress. “You saved my life…again,” you add. “Thank you.”

Bucky scoffs as he sits back on his haunches, still facing you. The mentholy smell of the arnica rub is thick in the air, but you don’t mind it. You look at him, his hair still a mess, his normally icy blue eyes just the tiniest bit darker now. You force yourself to look away before your gaze once again drifts down to his solid chest.

You huff as you lay back down in your spot. The roll on and the advil you took earlier are helping with the pain, but the tightness is still bothersome.

“Still?” Bucky asks with a raised brow.

You roll your eyes. “Not all of us have super healing abilities, Barnes.”

His tongue mindlessly wets his lips as he considers you. “Turn over,” he tells you, his long hidden Brooklyn accent making its rare appearance. Your lips twitch at the sound. One of the reasons you enjoy arguing with him so often is because of that damn voice. His accent gets thicker when you’re in your back and forths… You’re hit with realization then of what he just said and you’re sure your confusion is written clear as day on your face as you give him a look,

“Sorry?”

“Turn over,” he repeats.

“Wha-,” you titter nervously, looking up at him as he stays on his knees next to you. “Why?” you question.

“Would you just listen to me for once? Turn over before I turn you over,” he orders.

You ignore the tingle in your belly…and lower, at his instruction and the easy air of authority his voice so effortlessly holds. Half the time it irritates you, but the other half, though you try to push it away, gets you feeling like this.

You swallow thickly and blink away from his intent gaze before you slowly move to turn yourself over without causing any pain.

You take a shaky breath you hope he doesn’t notice as you adjust yourself, trying not to smother your face in the pillow.

You’re not sure what he’s going to do, your body is buzzing with the unknown, your nerves are on edge, but here you are following his orders nonetheless.

The bed shifts as Bucky moves closer and you don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you feel his touch again. You shudder as he lets his hand ghost from your trap, over your shoulder, and down your arm. The bed shifts again as Bucky straddles you. You can feel his warmth radiating off of him, his knees on either side of your body.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

You breathe, and stay quiet. Bucky waits a moment longer before he continues.

It starts slow, his touch soft yet firm as his hands massage you. Your eyes close without your permission as you exhale a heavy breath. This is good. Really good. His hands are like magic as he applies just the right amount of pressure to your back. He works a tight spot and another heavy breath leaves you.

Oh fuck… that wasn’t a heavy breath.

That was a moan.

It doesn’t stop him, but you, you’re mortified. Your eyes snap open and you hurriedly try to push yourself up. It’s to no avail. Bucky keeps you down easily with just one hand on your back, the other lightly squeezing your shoulder. Your heart is going to beat out of your chest. You don’t really know what it is you’re feeling right now, but you think it might just be the end of you.

He’s essentially on top of you. and he’s warm. and strong. and even beneath him, he smells so damn good.

You don’t feel helpless often, but right now, under Bucky, being kept in place like this by him, you do. Like prey caught by a predator…

Except you don’t feel scared.

Embarrassed, but not scared.

In fact with Bucky, you always feel safe, protected. Like earlier today. He had your back, he was watching out for you, like he always does, whether you’re fighting or not. He’s always there.

He squeezes your shoulder soothingly just a bit more, “Relax,” he eases, his thumb rubbing into your tight muscle. You force yourself to breathe again and relax back down into the bed.

You do feel a little helpless, but god help you, you think you like it.

“This is okay?” he asks, voice deeper now as he starts massaging your back again, working a little deeper.

It takes you a second to voice your affirmation, and it comes out as more of a deep hum, but he takes it.

Your lashes flutter once more and you sigh, another soft moan slipping from you as Bucky adds slightly more pressure. His hands move a little lower as he works at the tension in your back, and he leans in a little closer as he speaks again.

“This okay?” he rasps in your ear.

Your breath hitches as you slacken even deeper into the bed.

“Yes,” you murmur headily. It’s not just from his touch, it’s that it’s his touch. You’ve done this dance with him before, but you’ve never gotten quite this close. You’ve shared heated moments, wistful stares, lingering touches, almost kisses, hell you’ve woken up in his arms before on nights like this, but it’s never been quite like this.

The base of his palm rubs at a particularly tight spot. He massages you carefully… and when you suddenly feel his lips press against the skin of your shoulder, you can’t help but whimper at the contact. You think maybe you’re imagining things, that his touch just feels so good it’s causing all these thoughts to run wild in your head…

Then you feel his fingers brush against the band of your bra.

“Bucky…” you waver.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathes.

You don’t even give yourself a second to catch up before you respond.

“No,” you mew.

His hands squeeze your soft waist and his lips brush your skin gently. Another weak moan leaves you.

Bucky smoothly unclasps your bra and his hands ghost over your back as he pushes it off of you.

His touch falls to your hip where he takes hold of you once more. You can so easily feel his strength in his grip before he pulls you lightly to turn over toward him.

You do just that, slowly and carefully, until you find yourself right beneath him, his heavy lidded eyes set on you, his lips parted as he takes you in beneath him.

Your hands find the waistband of his sweats and you pull him closer to you. He lowers himself down and your noses brush as he comes in even closer. You’ve wanted this for so long. You breathe each other in for a moment before your eyes close and your lips finally touch. It’s soft and hesitant, just a single kiss. Then another. And another. And then all at once, it’s a whirlwind of fervency. Your hand is crawling in his hair as you hold him closer. You try to lean up into him, but he stops you and follows you back down until your head is resting on the pillow. You murmur your protest and you can feel Bucky’s smirk against your lips. He kisses you one more time, deep and lingering, before he finally pulls away. You’re breathing harder, looking up at him with nothing but want and desire swimming in your gaze.

He lifts a hand to rub at your shoulder gently and you sigh at the feeling.

“Feels better?”

“Yeah,” you breathe with a light nod.

“Good,” he breathes in turn. Your brows furrow in confusion when he moves from above you and instead lays down next to you on the bed. You had a different idea of where things were about to go…

Your bra is halfway off and you don’t know whether you want to remove it completely or pull it back on. Oh god… maybe this was all just a dream, your fantasy playing out all too realistically and tricking you.

While your mind is worrying itself, Bucky rolls onto his side, facing you, and gets your attention. His hand comes to rest on your lower tummy, smoothing over to your hip. “I didn’t realize you’d gotten hurt earlier,” his voice is low and sincere. “I really am sorry.”

You watch him bring his hand over to the strap of your bra, the cool metal chilling your skin as he drags it down your arm. You don’t stop him as he does, instead you let the other strap fall further down your arm before you pull it off altogether and drop it off the bed and onto the floor. He moves in closer to you and his eyes fall to your lips. He inches closer before kissing you again. His hand ghosts up your waist as you murmur against his lips, “‘s’okay,” you shake your head at his needless apology, kissing him back. His wandering hand cups your full breast and he kneads it, your nipples peaking at his attention. You moan into the kiss, getting a low groan from Bucky in turn as he deepens it, and you attempt to roll onto your side and into him to be even closer.

Again, Bucky easily stops your movement, gently pushing you back down, but not breaking the kiss as he follows you.

“Wha?” you mumble, pulling away from him, “What?”

You’re getting more confused and frustrated the longer this goes on.

He laughs and your eyes narrow at that goddamned smirk on his face.

“Look, sweetheart, as much as I’d love to take this further,” he simpers, bringing a hand to caress your cheek softly, “you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” you argue back.

“Just lay down,” he laughs again, “relax. You’re gonna be even more sore in the morning. You don’t need me making it worse.”

“I can take it,” you try to argue again, to defend yourself, really.

“I’m sure you can,” he allows with a soft smirk, “But if you’ve been feeling this between us for as long as I have, two more days of waiting ‘ll be nothing.”

You pout. “Right,” you say unbelievingly. You turn your head back so you’re facing the ceiling. “Tease,” you mutter under your breath - knowing full well he can hear you.

“Pot, meet kettle,” he scoffs.

You roll your eyes and let your head fall to the side to look at him again.

“You need sleep,” he says softly, leaning in close to you again. You reach to touch his face, his cheeks stubbly.

“Would you get the light?” you ask in the same tone.

Bucky leans in and places a chaste kiss on your lips. He hums quietly, licking his lips as he pulls away and sits up. “I’m gonna be kissing you all the time now, you know that, right?”

You breathe a laugh, smiling softly as you watch him get up and go turn off the lights.

You pull the comforter up and over yourself, keeping one foot out so as not to overheat too quickly.

Bucky shuts off the lights and gets back into the bed, sliding in next to you under the covers.

He gets comfortable in his spot and after a few seconds, you slowly inch closer to him. Your hand touches his as you both lay on your backs. You get closer until you finally decide to turn toward him. Sleeping on your side will be a lot more comfortable, and -

Bucky cuts off your train of thought as he suddenly, but gently, pulls you into him, allowing your head to rest on his chest as he keeps a protective arm around you.

“We both know we’re gonna wake up like this anyway,” he says, finishing your thought without knowing it.

You fight your smile as you curl into him, finding the most comfortable spot for both of you. The skin to skin contact is intimate and so natural, you don’t even give it a second thought as you start to drift off into sleep. You feel Bucky press a tender kiss on your forehead and the warmth that flows through you is undeniable.

Just like you two.

You’ve both known it for some time, you just never wanted to make the wrong move. But this is it, here and now.

Undeniable.

God, you’re getting too hot already. If this had been any other night from your past “sleepovers” you’d probably just try and deal. But tonight, and every night from now on if you’re lucky, is different. You move just a bit and Bucky doesn’t object. Slowly, you start shimmying down your sweats until you’re able to just kick them off under the covers. You were planning on losing them earlier anyway, why should you be self conscious now.

Plus, Bucky did accuse you of being a tease not fifteen minutes ago. If he thought anything you ever did before could come close to his touches tonight, he had no idea.

And Bucky’s right, you’ll be waking up like this come the morning no matter how you go to bed. You in his arms, in nothing but a pair of cute underwear, would certainly be a good morning. And then you’ll see how he really feels about waiting another day or two to finally be with each other the way you’ve been wanting for so long.

Now you know better than to underestimate Bucky’s patience, but telling from the bulge growing in his sweats as his hand wanders over your hip and squeezes your bottom while your fingers dance along his midsection, ghosting lower and lower as you feel his muscles tense…you think you might just get it sooner rather than later.

But either way, you smile softly, cuddling into Bucky as he pulls your body closer, you know you’ll both get what you want.

[januaryembrs]

I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE | Marc Spector x reader

Request: @happyhauntt says - okay i am BEGGING for a fic based on the song 'forest fire' by brighton (be warned that shit HURTS) but i fully cannot decide between poe dameron, steven/marc or spencer reid so i am giving you full creative direction and i look forward to getting my heart ripped out!!

Description: Marc had always carried her with him, since they were small kids playing pirates in the yard, before things got messed up by grown up feelings and burdens. It's not until he sees her twenty years later, he realises he should have saved her.

length: 3.9k

Warnings: Heavy warnings for childhood / domestic abuse/neglect (both from Marc and also reader has a neglectful father) warnings for alcohol, the cave scene, drowning, death etc. you asked for angst, so I served!

authors note: sorry this took so damn long, today isn't even my day off and I have been too exhausted to even look at my computer, but I hope you like it!

Before Randall was too little to be part of his adventures, Marc used to play on his own in the yard. 

Usually that entailed kicking a football at the wooden fence that lined their garden, trying to knock it off his chest when it would come bouncing back the way he’d seen the professionals do it, even if it had led to three milk teeth coming loose already. 

But there weren’t kids on his street to play with, at least that’s what he thought until the one day he kicked his ball a little too high and watched it fly right over the top of the fence, bouncing into the neighbour's yard, a soft “ouch” meeting his ears. 

In minutes, a little head appeared over the wall, beady eyes frowning down at him, and he realised it was a girl around his age, maybe a little younger. 

“Did you lose this?” She held up his soccer ball he was worried he was going to have to kiss goodbye to forever, the small digits of her other hand holding onto the fence tightly. 

“Yeah! Sorry, I didn’t mean to kick it so high,” Marc said, and with no more explanation than that, she threw it over to his side of the partition, and her tiny head disappeared back below the fence line. 

He felt stunned. He knew there were moving boxes over that way a couple weeks ago, but as far as he could see there was only a man living there on his own, a scowl on his face most days. Marc had seen him shouting at the other kids on his block to stop riding their bikes in front of his house because it ‘upset the dog’, though Marc had yet to see for himself this canine friend he was speaking about. 

But there was a girl living there! A real life girl who spoke to him; granted he had lobbed a heavy soccer ball at her, from what her distaste told him, and he wondered if perhaps, despite the grumpy look on her face he realised mirrored the man he’d seen living there, that she might like to even make friends with her neighbour. 

“Wait!” He yelled, running up to the fence where she had slipped away from him, grabbing on to the top and pulling himself up to the point he was on his very tippy toes and he could only just about see her yard. 

The grass was unkempt, which was odd because Marc’s own dad cut the grass every fortnight, and there were planks of wood with nails sticking out of them strewn across the side of the shed she had used to pull herself up with. He fought the urge to cringe in disgust, because there, looking up at him from where she was making a daisy chain in the long, dry grass, alone in a pink plaid shorts and a white, dirt stained top, was the girl. 

“Do you want to play?” Marc asked, his foot nearly slipping under him where he was trying to rest it on the wood to take a closer look, “I have tennis, or swing ball we could play?” 

She looked interested at the mop of curly, black hair for a moment, before she looked back at the house that he had still yet to see any sign of a dog. 

“I’m not sure my dad would like it…” She said cautiously, almost whispering to him, picking the soil under her nails. 

“My mom could come around and get you, she could talk to him,” He offered, because this was when his mother was still mom and not Wendy. 

Before she had yet to flip his world entirely upside down with her cruel hands and vicious tongue. Before Steven. 

She seemed unsure, biting her bottom lip and stroking her arms like she was giving herself a cuddle. But she nodded, looking up at him, and he tried to hide just how excited he was to finally have someone to play with. 

“I’m Marc,” He said, grinning at her, his tongue poking between the space where his adult teeth were only just growing back in. 

She told him her name back, and it was the first time he understood what a crush was. 

–

“Marc, I’m not sure we should be doing this,” She said, grabbing his hand so tight he thought his heart might explode. 

“It’s okay, we come here all the time, don’t we, RoRo?” He reassured, looking back to where Randall, now a few years older and big enough to play with them, held onto the side of the cave, his own face nervous. 

“All the time!” The little boy echoed, because Marc knew he had a bit of a thing for her as well, because she was older and cool and smelled like a field of flowers and he hated seeming like he was scared, even though he was. 

He was just a kid. 

They were just kids. 

And being kids, they stumbled into danger without realising it, not even when the rain started coming down outside torrentially and they had to pause their game of pirates to run for cover. They hadn’t expected, in their childish excitement to continue the adventure, that the water would start pooling into the cave; that it would fill up like a basin, whether they were in there or not, and it wasn’t until the screaming started that they realised they were in the kind of danger that required an adult. 

Marc was the first one to get out, his hair soaked, his heart racing, and he used a grown up word he heard his dad use sometimes because he could have sworn they were both right behind him. 

And if that had been true, then where were they? 

He called her name, debated going back in there himself to see where they had gone, then he yelled for RoRo, because she didn’t seem to be answering. 

And there was only silence, except a clap of thunder overhead that said the rain was going to get worse; was not going to stop for hours. 

Which was when he ran to get his dad. 

By the time Elias got there, his glasses wet and steamed, his thick thatch of curls too similar to Marc’s soaked through, all he could see was a head of hair peeking out of the mouth of the cave, and his heart sank. 

He dragged her out of the dark water, arms under her shoulders as he rolled her on her front and started patting her back, trying to get her to spit some of the water out, because her face was ice and her skin was soaked and her playsuit was ripped from where she’d snagged it on the rocks. 

Marc remembered crying into his hands, gaze flicking back to the cave to see if RoRo was right behind her, if he was just waiting to be pulled out as she had been. 

But there was nothing. Nothing but rain water and moss and those damn rocks he’d been gripping onto not an hour earlier. 

His heart leapt when she spluttered finally, after his dad had thrown her over his knee and taken to giving her a one handed heimlich right between her shoulder blades. She spat the water out, her body shivering immediately, eyes bleary as they looked around as if she expected to still be in that dark hole in the wall, and Elias set her down on the grass to go look for his youngest son. 

“Stay with her, Marc,” He barked, uncharacteristically sharp for him though Marc guessed it was fear, and took off towards the cave again. Marc pulled her into his arms, and it was only then they started wailing together. 

They sat there for an hour when the rescue team finally arrived, a medical team with warm hands and even warmer blankets ushering them to the safety of the back of an ambulance, and the last thing Marc remembered for that horrible day was sitting on the stretcher with her pressed against his side, trembling under the reflective wrap they’d been tucked in that made them look like baked potatoes, wishing he had never suggested they go in that damn cave. 

–

“You’re leaving?” She said, her lip quivering, her eyes lined with tears. They sat on his bed, his duffel bag already packed, his acceptance letter burning daggers into his head from his nightstand, “Military? Marc, just think about this for a minute-”

“I have thought about it. I’m not some dumb kid making rash decisions, I want this,” Except he didn’t, not really. What he meant to say was he wanted to leave, to run away and never come back, but the idea of never seeing her again was too difficult to think about. 

She thought about it for a moment, and he held her hand when he saw her face really start to crumble then. “If you go, I’ll have no one left. You’re all I have,”

He didn’t hide the fact he saw how nervous she was when Marc would pick her up from her house and her father would see her out the door, a nasty, inebriated glare in his eyes at the Specter boy. He saw all the times she would tiptoe around the floorboards, the way he knew too well, as if she was scared of what would happen if she took up too much space, made too much noise. Or when his mother had been kind, way back before any of this had happened, and had fussed over her pretty hair, had piled food on her plate because Wendy said she needed the goodness, she had locked up entirely and looked at his mother as if she was an alien. 

Even now, when they were both seventeen, nearly adults in the grand scheme of things, he knew her father was cruel. 

“I’m sorry,” He said honestly, and he felt his own throat clogging up with real emotion he only ever let himself show when he was with her, “When I get a place of my own, I’ll come back here, and we can pack your bags together, and we can live far away from all of this,” 

And it sounded like he was spinning her a fantasy; which he was. She felt like an idiot for believing him, for flashing him a small smile and leaning her forehead to his which was the closest they ever got to admitting how they really felt about each other. 

He wanted to kiss her then, before he left to start his new life, one where they could be happy together, and he made a promise to himself that when he came back for her that would be the first thing he would do. 

He could see it now; he would be in some kind of flashy car with the top rolled down, a man grown from the regime and fitness they would teach him in the army and she would come running to him like an angel parting the clouds, like a dream that was finally within reach, and he would kiss her then, so hard it would make up for the time they had lost, the time they had grieved together, it might even make up for that day she nearly died because of him. 

So he left her, that fantasy of coming back to her keeping him going in the months of training, during roll call and exams and the small, clinical portions they would serve him in the military. 

But that day never came. Somewhere between losing himself to the alter that had formed and led a full life separately to his, between hiding Steven from the ugly truth and becoming a mercenary after dropping from the army, he tucked the dream away as a what if, and he didn’t return back to that house where his mother had caused so much hell. 

Not until the second day of her shiva, that was. 

-

“Marc?” He forgot how sweet his name sounded from her lips, and he hated to admit it in the middle of his drunken state, but he’d wished he’d never heard it again in his entire life. 

Because the second his front door opened, and a woman in a long black dress, heels and lace gloves stared back at him with a face that looked similar to a girl he once knew, only a notch between her brows that said she had done nothing but frown for twenty years, he wished he had never seen her again. 

She was beautiful, more beautiful than he ever gave her credit for, yet she looked tired. Sunken. Like she had wept and screamed alongside all the frowning. 

“Marc,” She said it more determined this time, pacing down the stairs to his home, her footsteps rushed and worried, “Are you okay?,” 

He knew he must look like a mess. He hadn’t stopped crying for three days since he got the first phone call from his father in almost two decades, since he’d learned his mother had passed, and he was already a bottle of whiskey deep by the time he’d stepped out the cab onto the street he grew up on. 

He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought she would be there. He guessed she would be far away from this place, just like he had been, in a mansion with a 401k and a dog and a neurosurgeon for a husband. She had always deserved it. 

But here she was, grabbing the bottle out of his hand gently, rubbing a hand over his shoulder like not a day had gone by that they hadn’t seen one another, and it didn’t take him much convincing at all to pull her into a hug he had needed since the day he left. 

“My mum’s dead,” Marc said, sounding like a little boy again when he wept into her neck, squeezing her body to his, and he felt her rubbing his back soothingly. 

“I know, Marc, I’m so sorry,” She hummed, and she smelled like a fancy floral perfume he couldn’t afford to give her before, “I know you must be feeling complicated,”

He nodded, because he couldn’t have put it better himself. He felt complicated. 

“I missed you,” She said, like it was a confession, and he cried harder, his face burying into the crook of her shoulder. 

“I missed you too,” 

“How’s Steven? Is he still around?” She asked, pulling him away to root through her pocket for the pack of tissues she’d kept handy for the day. He took a deep breath, rubbing his sleeved arm over his face to dry it even the slightest. He could feel his cheeks sopping wet from where he had sobbed in the back of the cab like a madman all the way here. 

But she was still fussing over him, and she looked just as pretty as he had remembered her, sitting on his bed that day, if not only a little more tired under her eyes.

Ofcourse she had known about Steven. How else was he supposed to explain the times they would be playing boyfriend-girlfriend together and he would become a different person. 

Sometimes Steven would remember her too, because it didn’t matter to her who he was, she was his best friend either way. He remembered a girl who smelled like summer, sitting on the swings and eating ice lollies together, taking it in turns to push each other, blue tongued and happy. 

“Yeah, sometimes,” He replied quietly, as she handed him the tissues, “He misses you, too,” 

She smiled at him with her lips pressed tightly.

“I take it you’re not coming in?” She said in a careful tone, and he shook his head quickly. 

“No- I just can’t,” He said, tears welling up in his eyes in seconds, and she wrapped him in another hug immediately, soothing his hurt as fast as it had bubbled back up.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, you don’t have to,” She hummed, stroking down his back gently, and he hugged her tightly as if she was the only thing keeping him together. 

He opened his mouth to speak when his front door opened again, and he worried for a second that it was Elias. 

Instead, he saw a girl no older than five emerge in a cute, poofy dress that met her knees, her hair tucked into a neat braid, lace gloves matching her own as she lingered at the doorway. 

And perhaps the thing that struck him the quickest; she was the damn near double of the girl he’d hit in the head with his soccer ball in that very yard. 

“Mommy,” The girl said in a gentle coo, her eyes empathetic as she met his gaze, more empathetic than he knew children could feel. But, he supposed, if she was her daughter then it didn’t surprise him in the slightest. 

His best friend turned, her face smoothing out into something peaceful when she saw her little girl, and he knew then she was born to be a mother. Nothing like his own, nothing like Wendy, and he cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. 

She was a mother. 

“Yes, baby?” She said, half stepping towards her child as the girl stumbled down the first step towards them, and she was quick to swoop her into her grasp and onto her hip. 

“I need to use the bathroom,” The girl said shyly, peeking a glance at him over her mum’s shoulder, and she waved at him with tiny fingers. 

He waved back, even if the sight of her had dumped a bucket of cold water all over his body. 

“Alright, baby. Just wait in the foyer, I’ll come take you in just a second, I’m just speaking to my friend right now,” She said, stroking over the back of the girl’s hair softly, and kissing her chubby cheek. “Is that okay?”

She nodded, and her mum kissed her once more, plopping her back on the top step to direct her back into the house. And they were alone again. 

She looked at him guiltily, stepping back towards him as she fiddled with her sleeves nervously, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t get childcare and I don’t really know anyone in state anymore-”

“No, it-it’s fine,” He stammered, feeling her watching him for his reaction carefully, “What’s her name?” 

“Dalilah,” She replied, rubbing hands up her arms to calm herself. 

“Where’s her dad?” Marc asked, hoping he didn’t sound bitter, but the whiskey made it sound like a bite. 

She shrugged, “He wanted the cars and the house when we split; I wanted her,” She said calmly, like it wasn’t one bomb after another to be dropped on him. 

He knew nothing about her life. He had tried to run away from that promise he’d made her for twenty years, because he knew he would never be good enough for her; that he could never give her the happiness she deserved, even before he had become the Moon Knight. 

At his core, he would rot her, ruin her. He would destroy her.

And yet hearing it was just the two of them alone, he felt like he could take out the piece of shit who ran out on them barehanded and go home to sleep next to her soundly.  

He felt like perhaps, as much grief and anguish as returning back to that house had caused him, perhaps this was his second chance. His chance to be what she needed, to be something good.

He would be so good to them. He would give them everything if she asked. 

“I’m not really in town much, especially with my dad still around,” She said, gesturing to where her yard still stood, full of junk and a dog that had supposedly been kicking strong for two decades, “But I would love to see you again. Lila has school most days so you’re free to come over any day of the week if you want it to be just us; I work at home,” She scribbled an address about two hours away down on a piece of paper, along with her phone number, handing it to his distraught face with a sad smile, somewhat hopeful he would take the olive branch she was shaking his way. 

He took it with a nod, his bottom lip still trembling before he bit it hard enough to force it to stop. He would love to see her, if he would even allow himself something good. If he would just let go of the resentment for everything that reminded him of that time, he could see the two of them healing one another slowly, but surely. 

She could fix him. And he could fix her. The way it had always been with them. 

“Yeah, I’d love that,” Marc said softly, allowing her to grab him tightly one more time, “I really did miss you,” 

She laughed, not properly more like a sad breath out, squeezing him to her, “I loved you so much. I never let you go, you know that?” 

He tried not to sob, almost holding her so maddeningly hard she couldn’t ever leave. 

But he had to let go eventually, and he watched her walk back up the stairs to where his family mourned, her face glinting with something hopeful, holding a flashlight out to him where he was walking around in the dark blindly.

He tried to smile back, though he knew it wouldn’t be the same, wouldn't be truly untouched by the grief he wallowed in. 

And by the time he got back to his hotel room, alone, even more drunk, Khonshu had another job for him that would whisk him away for two weeks. But he kept her number, the piece of paper gripped in his hand tight, like he was determined to keep his promise this time around.

He dialled her number exactly fifteen days later, his body aching, his nose bloodied, but something lighter in his chest at the prospect of seeing her again. The light in his dark, the girl on the swings he’d once pretended to marry during their game of house (the rings had been tiny daisy chains she’d woven together just that morning, their officiant was Randall who could barely ride a bike let alone remember the vows he was supposed to say.) 

Only when the phone got put through, a different woman answered, and the light flickered back out into something cold and dark and vengeful. 

“Oh, oh god, you haven’t heard?” He swallowed thickly, “She was hit by a drunk driver last week picking Lila up from school,” The woman, her cousin, explained, her voice teary and solemn, and he didn’t doubt she’d had to make a thousand of these calls the past few days, “They said it was quick, and Lila went fast so she wasn’t in any pain- and she was only in the ambulance for ten minutes before her heart stopped so she wasn’t hurting long either-” 

But he put the phone down, his eyes wide, his body numb, his chest empty and lonely. 

Because the very last bit of good in him was gone; because everything he touched was cursed and tainted from the offset. 

It took what felt like twenty cups of whiskey for him to black out that night, he knew sleep would evade him, he knew not to even bother trying. And Jake Lockely woke up for him, something mean and hateful in the black of his eyes. 

He didn’t care who, but someone was going to pay for his cielo being taken from them. 

[pixiemage]

So do you ever, like - accidentally get inspired to create a whole AU based on an old Tumblr text post, and you know you can't add it to your actual fic list because your existing WIP's are waiting for you, but you end up writing a snippet of it anyway? Yeah. Yeah, me too.

Jimmy knows he's not fully with it when he walks into the villains’ bar this time. He has a new name on his list from Make-a-Wish - Supreme this time - and he's only halfheartedly searching the by-now-familiar faces for the person he needs to talk to. He's not registering much of anything though, and it becomes apparent when two people step in his path and he doesn't notice until he's almost running into them. It's Joel, and it's Tango - Trickster and Phoenix - and the expressions on their faces are different flavors of the same thing. Anger, maybe, but not at Jimmy, simmering below the surface in Tango's case and being held back by a tense jaw in Joel's. And concern too, he thinks, concern and sympathy and- "Hey Songbird," Tango greets him, sounding just to the left of the normal fond tone he uses when he sees Jimmy. "How're you holding up?" "I...sorry?" Jimmy blinks, not quite understanding, and Joel casts a glance around the bar before settling back on Jimmy. "We heard about Mercy." Mercy - oh. Mercy Children's Hospital. Susie. Jimmy's chest goes tight and he swallows past a lump in his throat. A warm hand settles on his shoulder and he's steered over to a booth in the corner, Tango sandwiching him in on one side and Joel taking a seat across the table. Jimmy sucks down a shuddering breath. "...you heard?"

Joel scoffs. "We've been trying to find that bastard since the news broke this morning," he bites out. "The minute the Count gets back we'll know where he is." "You - what?" Jimmy stares, surprised. "You're trying to find him?" "Absolutely." Tango, this time, his arm around Jimmy's shoulders emanating a warmth that he hadn't realized was helping to calm him down. "We're going after that jerk the second we have the chance. The guy crossed a line, big time." Oh. Oh, gosh. Jimmy's vision just barely begins to blur with tears, and he feels Tango's arm tighten around him. There's quiet murmuring around him but he can't bring himself to listen. They're going after Vortex. Jimmy's biggest mistake in his life, and here Tango and Joel are ready to help fix it the second they have the chance. And Grian always said villains weren't to be trusted... "There's a bunch of others who signed up for the mission," Tango is saying, and Jimmy tunes back in. "Supreme and Iris and  Worm Man and some o' the others. They were pretty pissed when they found out-" "And we'll keep your name out of it, o' course," Joel goes on, and Jimmy blinks away tears to focus on him better. Joel rakes a hand back through his green-streaked hair and shrugs. "You're not involved. Keep your record clean, all that-" "No."#Jimmy is almost surprised to hear himself say it, and Joel looks surprised too, his eyebrows flying high. "What, you want us to leave him alone? Dunno if I can do that, Jim-" "No, I mean I want to be involved," Jimmy insists. "I want in." This time it's Tango who's surprised, ducked forward to catch Jimmy's eye. "You sure, sweetheart?" he murmurs, his hair licking with tiny flames. Concerned, probably. "It's not gonna be pretty." "I'm sure." And he is. He's seen fights before, and he's been in even more. He's fought criminals on the streets who were going to hurt people, and he's not about to balk at going after someone who already has. "I can handle it." "You're gonna need to hide your identity," Joel drawls, his voice low. "Wouldn't want our favorite civilian going to jail on our account." "I know," Jimmy nods. "I've got something I can wear." He's already picturing the yellow-and-black costume currently hanging at the back of his closet, of the feather-trimmed mask in his top dresser drawer. The suit and the mask that even Tango doesn’t know exists, not yet. Jimmy ponders for a moment before making a decision. His eyes catch Joel and Tango's in turn. "Actually...I think there's something I need to show you."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The arrest had gone far smoother than expected, in Grian’s opinion. It’s not often that a high-priority villain is found bruised and bloody and practically gift-wrapped right where an anonymous tipper said he would be. Sure, vigilantes were kind enough to help them take down bad guy when they were able, but this time was different. This time there was no masked wannabe hero trying to take credit for a takedown, no signature calling card or note beyond the unsigned “He’s all yours, boys” that had been scribbled on cardboard hanging around Vortex’s neck. It had felt odd, is all, though Grian had agreed with his partner when Scar had said he was just grateful to have the guy off the streets. As Grian slips into his apartment through the bedroom window and shoulders open the door to grab some food, he has to force himself to brush the buzzing thoughts aside. He can ponder oddities later. It was a long shift, and he’s about ready to crash the second he gets some fuel in him. It's only when Grian is tugging off his mask and setting it on the table by the bedroom door that he realizes he's not alone. Familiar yellow wings catch his eye, and when he turns, he spots Jimmy sitting on the couch in the middle of the room. He looks exhausted, his Canary costume on and his mask hanging around his neck, and his hair is a wreck - like when he's anxious and has been running his hands through it constantly. "...heya Tim," Grian greets him slowly, not sure what his brother's presence here means just yet. He drops his crossbow on the table and crosses the room, sinking onto the coffee table in from of Jimmy so he can see him better. His expression is one of a man worn and run down, something shadowed in his eyes that has a frown tugging at Grian's lips. He almost opens his mouth to ask what he's doing here - but then he spots the dark stains on Jimmy's fingerless gloves, and the patch of red that's barely splattered across the yellow parts of his suit's design.  It clicks, then. The timing of it all, the villain - Vortex - that Grian and Scar had been called in to take care of tonight. The man who Grian also knew had been spotted at the Mercy Children's Hospital a few days ago, where that little girl had- "You were there," Grian says, not a question, just a fact. "Tonight. You went after him." Jimmy sucks down a shaking breath and nods. Grian would almost say he looks guilty, but he doesn't think Jimmy would feel guilty about going after the person who hurt one of his kids. Perhaps he feels guilty that a kid got hurt at all. "They helped," he says shakily. "All of - you know, the ones who said yes to visits with the kids. They've been trying to do better, and when Vortex-" He trails off, and Grian shifts over to the couch, tucking his brother under one of his wings and letting Jimmy slump sideways against him. "He's locked away, Jimmy," Grian tells him. "I promise. You did good."

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[tired-biscuit]

Can we get a fic like manipulative bestfriend Kirishima but it's Katsuki instead?

18+ mdni, fem!reader // cw: manipulation (guilt-tripping), sort of dubcon-ish...? bsf!bakugou

"stay."

a hint of a smile tugs at your lips at the seemingly innocent request katsuki slurs into the darkness as you get him into bed that friday night.

the bedroom you're in, his bedroom - and which you've come to know so well that you might as well consider it your own instead - is neat and tidy as ever. perfectly him.

every piece of furniture has its own rightful place. the decoration is scarce, but surprisingly tasteful; that is if you ignore the shelf full of all might figurines that's situated right above the desk. adorned with starlight and a hint of blue-ish purple light coming from the neon sign that's right across the street, shadows of all shapes and sizes cover the walls.

and they dance, the shadows and their odd shapes. twirling and spinning all across the flat surface whenever a car drives by the window that overlooks the street outside, they remind you of living things. and speaking of living things; the night itself can be considered as one of them. it makes the city feel alive.

people walk the streets no matter the hour in a city this big. they share inside jokes and they laugh and gossip and spill secrets they'll talk about further about in the morning, when they're feeling a bit more sober. but besides the occasional chatter and the low hum of turning car tires, it's quiet. peaceful - if you're used to tuning out all the traffic noise and other nonsense. you, living in the very center of the flashy city havoc for quite a while now, find it oddly comforting at almost one in the morning.

however, to you, the room you're currently standing in also beats the comfort the city brings any day. most definitely.

because as you inhale, savouring a nice, deep breath, you realize that it smells fresh and familiar; like home, or rather the person you think of as home. like the fabric softener that wafts from the newly-washed bed sheets you've just finished tucking him in, and the chilly breeze of late spring that's only snuck its way into the room because of the fact that katsuki 'blood running as hot as his temper' bakugou prefers to sleep with his windows open no matter the season.

and that's completely fine, it's just dandy - even if it does tend to get a little too cold for your taste, personally. the problem at hand is that besides the open windows, your best friend also prefers to sleep with you in the room with him. right by his side, where you belong. constantly.

most don't believe it if they've gotten the chance to meet him and know what he's like, but it's true. he actually likes you. and sure, it may seem like he simply tolerates your company instead of enjoying it more often than not, with his constant eye rolls and low-spoken grumbles for answers, but you know him better than that.

you know that just from the way he wishes to have you around, like now, willing to share his comforter and pillow with you whenever he's at his most vulnerable - a sight he never lets anyone see but you. it's the little things when it comes to katsuki, and you also know that the action alone is the same as if he were to tear the very moon off the sky every night for you before placing it into your awaiting hands.

he trusts you with it. he trusts you with his heart.

and it's been like that for a long while, ever since you were kids, actually. since you'd borderline forced him to be your friend by smiling those big, foolish grins at him even if one of your teeth was missing at the time. since you'd brought him neat little presents, most of them candy and gum, for his birthday every year, even if he wasn't particularly a fan of sugar and you only found out about it years later. since you weren't afraid to hold his hand even if it got much too warm, much too quick all of a sudden and could even make sparks fly, while yours had been simply covered in bright yellow sidewalk chalk instead.

and katsuki, well, he had pretended for a long while that he didn't appreciate the way you'd persisted and consistently kept putting in the effort into getting to know who he truly was. had feigned that he didn't care about all the smiles and the kind gestures and even sweeter gifts. never being a boy with a tendency to display affection all that much, he found it hard to demolish the walls he'd spent ages building around himself and to really portray what he truly felt.

but years passed, as they tend to do. by the time you had both grown up and parted ways, he realized how special it was what he had. how he took it for granted. and once for a change, he was the one reaching out to you this time, over social media he rarely used but still had because everyone else - you - did. he was the one attempting to grow closer. to rekindle the spark and all the warmth to accompany it. because he missed it.

he missed you.

so you met up whenever you could. you partied a bit on the weekends; whenever school would let you. you held study sessions for entirely different subjects because you attended entirely different schools. he helped you move into your new place, and you helped him move out of his parents' house. he taught you how to cook because you were, in his words, absolutely shit at it. you taught him how to not kill all of the plants in his new apartment when he'd gotten tired of his college dorm, because he was, in your words, an incompetent plant dad.

you laughed, sometimes you cried, but mostly laughed. shared experiences and adventures that you still like to reminisce about to this day. and your friendship grew with them. it got more solid; sturdy. different, in more ways than one. and it's even more different now.

now that he's no longer a boy, but a man.

"hey," said man's voice brings you back to reality now. you blink as you feel his fingertips touch the sleeve of your sweater. his touch is warm as it always is. "you still in there, dummy?"

reaching down to pat the top of his head playfully, you try to ignore the way he angles it further into your palm as you say, "funny! but i can't stay tonight, kat."

he truly is just that: a cat. one that nearly purrs at your touch whenever it gets drunk, that nuzzles its face into the crook of your neck and that turns oddly clingy, too. but only when he feels like it. not you.

"sure ya can," he answers almost immediately even if his tongue feels way too heavy and slow to sit inside his mouth properly. the answer is simple but it's also assured. definite. like it's up to him to choose what you'll do. how you'll live.

come to think of it, maybe that wouldn't be so bad. your best friend does know you best. it's right there in the title.

a sigh leaves your lips at the thought as you look at him with slightly narrowed eyes now. he's relaxed; pleasantly tipsy because he allows himself to lower his guard down around you and drink more than he normally does with others. his irises are hazy and dark red instead of crystal clear, pupils big and eyelids as heavy as your heart. the signature spikes of ash blonde have turned sort of droopy and ruffled.

maybe they've absorbed some of the alcohol as well. it's funny to think about.

"katsuki," you start, stifling a chuckle, "you know that i've got work tomorrow-"

"c'mon," he interrupts with a mere murmur, his grip a surprisingly tenacious one to wrap around your wrist as he grabs it with his much bigger hand. "stay with me tonight."

"i can't," you repeat softly when he tugs at your hand for a second time. his fingers are so hot now that it feels like they're making your skin burn the moment they touch it, and you wonder if that's what the perps he's constantly chasing after experience whenever he gets close enough to use his quirk on the poor suckers.

there's a beat of silence between you before he chides, "can't or won't?"

"stop that." that makes me feel bad.

"well, you'd stay if you wanted to... just sayin'. 'cause i know you don't start work that early." he pauses to yawn. "but it's whatever, you do you. i don't care." i hope you do feel bad.

you don't respond to that. you don't know what to say. you never do.

so seconds pass. one, two, three.

"ugh... i didn't mean it like that," he says at some point as he rubs his temple. "i just-"

"it's fine. don't worry about it," you let out through a tight-lipped smile. "it's no biggie, really."

"it's not fine. just... lemme drive you to work tomorrow as an apology? i promise that i will, if you stay," he insists when he sees you starting to drift away again. pushes, because he wants to have his way with you. "please? i need you."

please.

you know what he actually wants, the thing he's been taking for months now, and yet the word still makes you fold because it's sweet and kind. makes you sigh again as you give in and pull your sweater over your head so that you can change into one of his t-shirts instead. makes you climb into bed with him the moment your jeans pool at your ankles and the comforter covers your bare legs. makes you allow him to wrap his arms around you in the too-tight way he prefers, but that leaves you awake, with your breaths awfully shallow in return.

because what matters most is that he's happy. and nothing makes him happier than when you're safe; right there in his arms, even if they do have a tendency to squeeze you just a little bit too much for your liking. even if they are just a little bit too possessive because you feel good, and good things must always be within reach to a man like him. only him, no other boys allowed.

please. it's so rare for him to say a thing like that that it almost tastes foreign on his tongue. but he still says it. just for you, no other girls involved.

please, he says as he presses your spine against his chest and sneaks his way under your - his - dynamight t-shirt, lifting it until the hem is touching the collar and your tits are exposed. please, he whispers whilst kissing your neck as that same hand glides all over your front in a way a best friend's shouldn't before he slides it into your panties instead.

please, he mumbles as his cock glides between your soaked folds a minute later; savouring the skin on skin contact even if it's messy and sticky all over. please, he grunts even if his sensitive tip already catches right at your fluttering hole and pushes in, in, in. until your breath hitches in your throat and your back arches in a way that makes you stick your ass out for him, as if in invitation even if you've never said the words.

please, he moans as he turns you over until you're laying flat on your stomach and he's pounding away like it's the last thing he'll do; making your curves jiggle and the headboard of the bed slam against the wall that's still covered in shadows. please, he grits out through clenched teeth when he feels your soaked pussy squeeze around him and try to push him out.

you're so close that you feel like your heart is about to give out any second now. he's heavy and too hot, too rough, too drunk; you need him out, out, out. you're going to burst if he doesn't stop because of how full you are.

"please, katsuki," you whimper, tears staining the pillow, his pillow that smells just like him as your nails claw at it until the softness is right inside your palms. it's all his.

"please, pretty," he says in return, pushing right back in. he's always pushing with everything. "just a lil' more for me. i need a lil' bit more from you." and you're gonna give it to me.

and yet your back arches again. and again. and again. accepting every thrust deeper, even if you said you couldn't. accepting his hand in your own because you're not afraid of the sparks and the danger it brings along - never had been. accepting the rude ignorance from your best friend in the heat of the moment because he otherwise does care about you.

he cares about you so much. just not while he's balls deep inside of you. just not while that same hand presses against the back of your neck so that he can gain the leverage to fuck into you better.

and it's your fault, or at least that's what he silently tells you with his actions. you made him like this. you crawled into bed with him. you let him take and take and take. he just asked. he used to be just fine on his own, but now he can't live without his best friend anymore. you're the pushy one. you, you, you.

and you also come with benefits he can't possibly resist.

[captaincryolicious]

Your bookstore crush

➳ Alhaitham x gn!reader

➳ Bulleted fic ; 4.4k

➳ Modern au, humor, pining ; No warnings

You wander into your favorite bookstore you thought had closed forever, but things take an unexpected turn from there. [27.10.2022]

Zep's Note ; If this doesn't flop I'm definitely writing a part two for this. [Edit: here is part two]

content under the cut | masterlist

Tuesday, 3.46pm 

There was this old bookstore on the corner of a quiet street in town. You remember going there often, until it suddenly closed down many years ago. No one knew the reason why. You simply assumed that it went bankrupt, or maybe something had happened to the owner. 

Whatever it was, it had been closed for years now, and most people had long forgotten about its existence. But not you, who had such fond memories of the little bookstore. You walked past it every day on your way home, always feeling a sense of longing when your gaze pulled towards the storefront.

Until that day where you saw lights behind the dusty windows.

Your curiosity was sparked, and you inched closer to the store. For all you knew, it had been abandoned for years. No one bothered to look after it once it closed its doors, and now there suddenly were signs of life?

With wide eyes, you looked at the little sign on the door that read open, and you started to wonder; were you dreaming? It had to be. You had given up all hope that your favorite bookstore would ever open again, so this had to be too good to be true, right? 

Well, there was one way to find out.

Your hand found the doorknob and you pushed open the wooden door with the old little curtain that obscured the window. 

The tiny bell above the doorbell chimed softly, informing whoever was present in the store of your arrival. You waited a moment, but you saw no one. Hesitantly, you closed the door behind you and stepped further inside.

It was an absolute mess inside the store. Nothing like you remembered it. The wooden shelves stood tall and empty, and all the books rested on the floor, either in huge piles or they lay scattered in messy heaps. There were stacks of papers and little trinkets that you supposed were for decoration. It was dusty, and you saw tiny particles flying around in the light that filtered through the dirty windows. Honestly, it looked like a very local hurricane passed through the store. 

"Excuse me?" you called out, since no one seemed to respond to the little chime of the bell above the door. 

You heard some rustling from the back of the store, and a moment later a tall young man stepped from behind one of the shelves. It was fair to say that you needed a moment to take in his appearance, for he really stood out with his handsome face, silver hair with some streaks of pale teal, and clear turquoise eyes that held a hint of surprise upon seeing you. 

"We aren't open yet," the male told you.

"The sign on the door said you were," you reasoned, feeling a little ashamed under the guy's stoic expression. 

"That's an error on my behalf, then. My bad." 

You nodded, unsure of what to do next. Just walk away and leave the store? That would leave you dissatisfied, with a lot of questions on your mind. 

"When are you opening officially?" you asked.

"In a week," the man replied. "But I have yet to clean up everything and I'm on my own." 

"Do you need help?" you impulsively asked. A split second later, you felt like planting the palm of your hand against your embarrassed face. Why did you even suggest that?

The silver-haired male quirked a brow and you felt your cheeks flush red under his gaze.

"I mean, this used to be my favorite store and if I can do anything to help it open on time, I would love to," you quickly explained. 

He seemed to think for a moment, and you swear it felt like his turquoise eyes could see straight into your soul. It made you a little awkward but you tried to keep your composure. 

"I assume that means you know what this store used to look like in its glory days?" he asked after a short silence.

You nodded. "Pretty much." 

"Fine," he briskly agreed. "I think I can use a hand. Just don't be a nuisance and don't get in the way." 

A little offended, you folded your arms. Who did he think you were? Some kid who only stuck around to make a mess of things? He was lucky that he was so handsome. 

The deal was sealed, and you got to work. It mostly consisted of sweeping the dust off of the books, stacking them neatly into the shelves sorted by genre and author. A lot of interesting books passed through your hands and you avidly made mental notes on which ones you were going to buy as soon as the store would officially open.

Occasionally, other customers would come in, until the silver-haired man finally had enough and changed the sign from open to closed. After that, it was just you and him and a shitton of books that had to be sorted. 

For what feels like long hours, you tried your best to help organize the little corner shop. But it was just so much work that you could hardly see any progress, much to your dismay. The only proof of your labor were the shelves that were now stacked with books – though it was nothing compared to the number of shelves you had yet to fill. Yep, it was quite a tedious task but you carried on.

You barely spoke a word to the handsome man, who was working through a stack of papers on the other side of the store. 

The atmosphere was a little weird, you couldn't quite put your finger on it. One of its components was a fair share of awkwardness from your side, that's for sure. 

"I think we're done for the day," his deep voice concluded after a while, and you felt kinda grateful as you put down the books you held in your hands. As much as you loved books, having to deal with hundreds of them over the span of a few hours was a bit much and you were feeling tired. 

"We did quite some work, huh?" you stated proudly, stepping back to admire the vast line-up of books you had put into place.

"We did," he agreed. "Thanks for your help…"

"Y/N," you told him with a smile. "I'm Y/N." 

You bid him goodbye after that, but not without casually offering to help him out tomorrow as well. He wore that questioning look again as he accepted your offer, but you realized that it may be a little weird for a total stranger to help out so eagerly. 

You were just a massive book enthusiast. And let's be fair, that guy was insanely handsome. But you'd go for the books, you told yourself.

As you walked home, you suddenly realized a small error you had made today. It wasn't that big of a deal, but you still felt a little sour.

You didn't get his name. 

Wednesday, 4.07pm

You felt hesitant as you stood in front of the door to the bookstore the day after. Yesterday you acted in a burst of spontaneity – or impulsivity – but today you came prepared, which made you a little nervous. 

This time you knew who and what you would find behind that door; the handsome guy whose face you couldn't read and some huge piles of books. Somehow, it was easier when you could still pretend that it was an opened bookstore, like you could yesterday.

And the sign on the door read closed, which wasn't exactly inviting. You knew it was only to keep out other customers, but it had you seriously questioning whether or not to push down that door handle and step inside.

But come on, yesterday you had basically invited yourself over for today and the male with silver hair seemed to accept the offer. You were fine, there was no reason to feel so aversive towards entering.

You made up your mind and stepped inside, the little bell above the door ringing excitedly.

This time you found the handsome man in the front of the store, unloading several more books from cardboard boxes that stood here and there on the floor. God, there were so many books. You wondered if it was even doable to successfully clear the deadline of a week. Tidying the entire store in the six days he had left? He was in for a monstrous task. 

"Good afternoon, Y/N," he greeted you without so much as looking up. "I can't believe you're really that willing to help me out in this dusty bookstore." 

In other words, he was a tiny bit surprised that you showed up again, and you silently tsk-ed. He obviously didn't know you at all, you weren't just going to bail on him after promising your aid.  

Honestly, you were still trying to figure out yourself why you were helping out a complete stranger setting up a bookstore. You weren't ready to admit that part of the reason was the guy being absurdly handsome – and come on, who wouldn't be lowkey enchanted by the mysterious aura he had? 

Okay, it was only because you wanted your favorite bookstore to reopen asap!! That made perfect sense right? Of course you'd want that.

"You better give me a discount when I come to buy books," you joked to get your mind off the endless discussion about your reasons for helping out here. 

But the guy replied with an "of course, that's only fitting," which took you by surprise. He was pretty considerate as well, huh?

You got to work, starting where you left off yesterday. There were still tons of books on the floor, and they weren't going to put themselves into place. Many books passed through your hand, and sometimes you took little breaks to read the summaries on the back of the books. You occasionally caught the silver-haired male looking at you, and you would as if you weren't just checking out the books. But he didn't comment on it, until he did.

"Do you like reading?" he asked, suddenly behind you. "You seem interested in those books."

"Why would I help out in a bookstore if I didn't care about books?" you reasoned. It came out a little defensive, and you uttered out a quick apology.

"I see," came the reply. "I was just wondering…" but you never found out what he was wondering about, for he trailed off and shrugged curtly. You flashed him a questioning look, but he didn't start talking again. What on Earth was he wondering? 

The subject wasn't brought up again, and you were left with an unsatiated curiosity. 

You were dying to ask him but you bite your tongue. He seemed the type who strongly disliked people that kept prying. 

Instead you worked silently, stacking books on the shelves. Now it was you who regularly stole glances at the handsome male who worked on the other side of the store, where he was sorting through a pile of non-fiction books. Even with a concentrated frown on his features, he still looked insanely good and you struggled to focus on your task at hand. 

But you managed, getting quite far until he called your name, telling you that it was enough for today. You got up, using the palm of your hands to dust off your knees. 

You got ready to leave, but you had one more thing to do before you left the store.

"You never told me your name," you casually pointed out, taking a nonchalant stance – as if you weren't dying to find out the name that belonged to that handsome face.

"My name is Alhaitham," he said, and his turquoise rested on you. "Will you be here tomorrow?" 

You nodded. "I will."

With that, you left the store behind you, and the soft chime of the bell gave you a ringing goodbye. You pondered quietly as you walked home.

Althaitham, huh? 

Thursday, 3.34pm

You hadn't exactly told Alhaitham you were coming to the store again, but you figured he would be pretty much used to it by now. So you didn't hesitate all that much when you pushed open the door and stepped inside. 

"Hi, Alhaitham," you greeted, glancing around the bookstore.

The two of you had made so much progress. There were only a few books left that lay strewn across the floor, and the number of cardboard boxes with more books had shrunk significantly. It was crazy how far you had come in two days. 

Well, you had no idea at what time the guy started, and through the day he did quite some work by himself, but you also did your fair contribution. 

"Hello, Y/N," his voice drifted from the back of the store. "Give me a minute, I'm almost finished putting these history books away."

You leaned against the messy counter casually as you waited for the male to emerge and give you instructions for today. You watched how the tiny dust particles dance in the room idly, caught by the light that filtered through the closed blinds. 

Until you heard the dry thuds of objects falling followed by a low, whispered curse you only barely heard. That didn't sound good. You pushed yourself away from the counter and rounded the wall of bookshelves to check what happened – even though it wasn't a hard guess. 

You found Alhaitham crouched between a messy heap of history books that lay scattered on the hardwood floor after plummeting down from what you assumed were his hands. The man had a frown on his face as he rubbed his left foot. 

"Are you okay?" you asked, closing in on him.

"I'm fine," he assured you, readying himself to gather the books around him. The frown left his face, evening out into his usual stoic expression. But you had seen the pained frown, and guessed he dropped a few of the heavy history books on his foot. Ouch. 

"Let me help," you offered, crouching down next to him as you also began to gather the fallen books. 

It went smoothly, until you both had your mind set on the same book – one that told about ancient Egyptian history – and reached out at exactly the same moment. His hand came against yours as they collided firmly and a bolt of electricity shot through your arm, sending a shiver down your spine. 

Ever so rapidly, you retraced your arm, but the damage was already done. A blush crept up your cheeks, and suddenly the books on the floor were very interesting – you refused to look at the male next to you, who still had his hand on the Egyptian history book.

You were panicking. 

Why were you panicking?

"I'll start putting away the sci-fi books over there," you excused yourself, getting up and flashing the male a hasty smile. "Don't drop more books on yourself. Books are hard." 

"I noticed," Alhaitham said flatly, confused at your turn of behavior. But hear me out, this man might be a smartass know-it-all who has his nose in a book more often than not, but he wasn't dense. He caught on quickly, but his face remained unreadable, a true actor as he pretended not to notice the flustered state you were in. 

"The science fiction books are in a white box near the counter," he instructed you, and he was secretly amused by the blush you tried to hide from him. 

"Alright, thanks," you breathed out, relieved when you could make your escape. 

You got to work, and fortunately the shelf for sci-fi books was on the other side of the store, which gave you the opportunity to calm down quickly. It wasn't a big deal, you told yourself, and at some point you truly believed it wasn't. 

Nearly all the books stood where they belonged now, and the store's interior was coming along nicely. It really started to look like an actual bookstore! 

The thought also kinda saddened you, though. It meant that your time helping out here was almost over. You were just getting used to it, and especially after what happened today you had started to realize that you might have developed a tiny little crush on the handsome guy. How could you not?

Your afternoon consisted of books and many stolen glances at Alhaitham – and he would be totally aware of it but you had no idea. 

"Y/N," he said after a while, approaching you with a paper bag in his hands. "Do you maybe feel like taking a break? I brought something that could suffice as a snack."

"What is it?" you asked curiously. You could use a little break, for you felt the strain of moving around books for three days straight on your muscles. 

"Dried Zaytun peaches," Alhaitham replied. "Simple, efficient, and still quite tasteful."

Oh, that was nice. You munched away on those quite often when you were at home with nothing to do, so it was safe to say that you liked them.

The guy offered you the bag and you took a small handful before you sat down onto one of the few boxes that were left. Alhaitham sat down on a cardboard box opposite of you, and you sat in silence for a while as you ate your slices of dried Zaytun peach.

It wasn't necessarily awkward. The silence matched the serenity you expected to find in an old-style bookstore, and you found yourself enjoying the moment of leisure.

But after a while, small conversations would arise, and of course they all revolved around books and reading. You also found out that Alhaitham is the son of the store's initial owner, and that his father took the job of reviving the little shop again. Alhaitham was going to work part-time next to his study at the local academy. 

He also asked you questions, which you were more than happy to answer. Turned out he was interested in you as a person, that much was obvious from the questions he asked. 

In the end, he learned more about you than you did about him, but that was okay. After all, the air of mystery suited him very well. 

Maybe you'd learn about him some day.

Your break took much longer than it was supposed to be, and by the time you realized it was already pretty late so you decided to wrap up for the day.

With a feeling of satisfaction, you headed home. It felt as if the two of you were opening up to each other. You couldn't wait until tomorrow.

Friday, 4.33pm

There was a skip in your step as you crossed the road, heading towards the bookstore that became your favorite all over again. How could it not?

You ran a little late due to circumstances, but they didn't diminish your enthusiasm to help out again. You had gotten so far already, and you were likely close to finishing. You couldn't wait to see the store when it was done! 

As you venture inside, you find Alhaitham stacking the last books onto the shelves and you quickly hurry over to help him.

"You're later than usual," he commented.

"I got held up," you explained. Did he mind?

He nodded, as if that simple statement was enough of an explanation for him. You knew it wasn't like him to pry at all. Or maybe he simply didn't care, but that didn't sound quite right.

"Do you mind helping me put these last books away?" he asked, gesturing towards a few piles of books at his feet. "As soon as we finish, all the books will be into place."

What an accomplishment. After days of doing nothing but stacking books, it was refreshing to have the finish line in sight. 

You worked quietly, only the sound of cars driving by outside and the soft continuous thud of books colliding with the wooden shelves resonated through the small store. 

It was peaceful.

Peaceful, until you had to put the books on the highest shelf – which was just out of reach for you. With a book in hand, you struggled to put it on the top shelf, standing on your tippy toes but it wasn't quite enough for you to actually reach it. You cussed in mild frustration, but then you froze.

The book was taken from your hands as it was neatly placed onto the top shelf, but what had you petrified was the solid chest pressed flush against your back as Alhaitham stood behind you. 

Your eyes flew wide and your breath halted, and you nearly squealed in panic when he moved to take another book.

"Here, allow me," he said calmly. 

Had you been able to see his face at that very moment, you would've seen the amused glint in his turquoise eyes. This guy knew very well what he was doing, acting to see if he could fluster you again – it was adorable to him, though his stoic demeanor would never give away such thoughts. 

You were having serious trouble breathing, and he stepped back to release you. You were quick to move away after being trapped between the bookshelves and his chest for what felt like a hot minute and you had to fight the urge to fan your flustered face with your hand. Instead you straightened your composure.

"T-Thanks, that was a little too high for me." 

You had to struggle so much to formulate those words. Alhaitham wondered if he had to stop teasing you or do it more often. Your reactions were cute and you would never suspect him of teasing you on purpose. No one would ever suspect such a thing of him, for he was only seen as serious and emotionless, aloof even. 

He'd think about it. 

But he was leaning towards yes, mostly because he felt his own heart flutter while teasing you just as much. 

Meanwhile, you were trying your best to calm your frantic heart, staring ahead of you idly because much like yesterday, you refused to look at the male who flustered the heck out of you. God, you only came there to help out in peace, this was not what you signed up for. 

"At this rate, we might open the store sooner than we initially planned," Alhaitham stated, glancing around the store seemingly unfazed. 

All there was left to do was some cleaning, and you gladly took the distraction. You avoided him for what felt like hours, meticulously dusting off all the surfaces you could find, vacuuming the hardwood floor (twice) and making sure all the books stood perfectly straight.

Well, all the books you could reach by yourself. You were definitely not trying to reach the top shelf again because you weren't ready for today's situation to repeat itself. 

With your frantic cleaning, you earned quite a few amused glances from the handsome male with silver hair, but you were making quick wits of the dirt and dust that littered the store. In the meantime, Alhaitham did his own part as well, cleaning with you and using the trinkets he had unboxed to decorate the store to his liking. 

Before you knew it, the shop was as good as done. You dropped the cloth into the bucket with water and wiped your forehead with the back of your hand. You had cooled down a lot, props to the intensity you had cleaned with. Not a speck of grime had escaped your eye, and in the meantime you were somewhat ready to face Alhaitham again. 

"Whew, I think we're done," you mused.

"I think so, too," the male agreed. "Now all there's left is some administrational work, but my father will take care of that." 

Then his turquoise eyes found you.

"Thank you for your help, though. I could not have done it so quickly without you. I was even worried about reaching our deadline but you made it much easier."

"I'm glad I could help," you smiled, growing a little shy under his gaze. "It was fun to set up my favorite bookstore again."

"Can I ask you a question?" Alhaitham asked.

"Of course," you tilted your head curiously.

"I came to notice that I like having you around," he admitted bluntly, honest and direct as always. "It would be a shame to see you go."

"Hm?" you brought out, cheeks tinting. 

"I'd have to ask my father…" he finally seemed to hesitate, his eyes flickering away momentarily. "...but do you want to work here as a part-timer? You'd make a good colleague."

Your brain paused for a moment, were you hearing that correctly? Handsome guy was asking you to become his co-worker? It was as if you were dreaming. You fought the urge to pinch yourself – that would make you look silly in front of him – and pondered his offer for a second. There were many pros to this; an income, working in your favorite bookstore, employer discount on your fave books, and getting to work together with the mysterious guy you developed a crush on. 

It was a big win-win situation.

"I would love to," you reacted.

"Alright," Alhaitham said, satisfied. "Give me your phone, I'll add my number so I can keep you updated." 

You retrieved your phone from your pocket, handing it to the male in front of you. His fingers danced over the rectangular screen as he typed in the digits, before he gave it back to you.

Your eyes widened when you saw the name he gave his contact slot.

Your bookstore crush.

I told you, Alhaitham wasn't oblivious. 

Though he felt a little nervous with this bold move, the way you looked at him told him that he didn't mess up. 

Where your face was a blushing mess, his face remained aloof, unmoving as always. You had to get out of there. Oh God, how were you supposed to face your possible new co-worker the next time you saw him?

"I, uh, I'll text you soon so you have my number as well," you promised him, taking a few steps back to make your escape through the door. "B-Bye!"

And with that, you took your leave, leaving an amused Alhaitham behind. Your heart was doing somersaults in your chest.

Helping out in the forgotten bookstore really took an unexpected turn.

[a-court-of-valkyries]

Where We Go From There Snippet

NERIS WEEK DAY 5: AU DAY

Hello! For Neris week I decided to do a little snippet for my fic Where We Go From There. This snippet will take place later on in the fic!

Nesta sighed, her back against the wall and her body soaking in the music blaring through the speaker as she watched the party from afar. Gwyn was deep in conversation with Clare Beddor, and Emerie had rushed to the store to get more chips. Feyre and Elain were chatting with Rhysand and his family on the couch. She could’ve engaged in conversation with Balthazar and Lucien, or tried to work on rebuilding her relationship with her sisters, but truthfully, Nesta did not feel like talking with anyone. She wanted to kick everyone out of the loft and go to sleep. She felt guilty at the thought though. She supposed she was in a better place, physically and mentally. She was surrounded by two people who genuinely and truly loved her and had thrown a party for her. She had a great job. Nesta had a lot to be thankful for, but even knowing that didn’t completely erase the gloomy mood she had been in. Seeing Tomas unexpectedly yesterday put her in a spiral, but this feeling was something different, like it had been laying dormant for months and was now shadowing her everywhere she went no matter how much she tried to ignore it.

And Eris had never shown up. Of course, he hadn’t shown up. He didn’t even like her. And I don’t like him, she thought. Nesta was glad he didn’t bother to come. That meant one less person to talk to at least. 

Nesta noticed Gwyn looking around until her eyes finally landed on Nesta. She waved, and Nesta hoped she gave her a convincing smile, one that said she was having a good time. Of course, Gwynn didn’t buy it since she began to make her way over to Nesta. “What’s wrong?” She asked when she finally reached her.

“Nothing! Just taking a little break from all the talking.” Gwyn’s eyebrows pinched in concern. “I’m fine, really,” Nesta reassured her. “Actually, I’ll be right back. I think I just need to get some air.” 

“Okay,” Gwyn mumbled as Nesta walked away. She made her way down the elevator in the hall, stepped outside, and sat on the front steps. She leaned against the railing and closed her eyes, embracing the cold wind on her face as it steadied her. She kept taking deep breaths in and out, hoping that it would stop the sudden rush of tears that wanted to escape. She told Gwyn and Emerie that she wouldn't mind having this party to prove to them and to herself that she was finally doing better, that she was fine, but she felt the exact opposite. She didn’t think she would ever be okay again, and if she, by some miracle, would be happy again, it would be a long time from now.

She was trying so hard to rekindle things with her sisters, and by extension, Rhysand and the rest of their family. But some part of Nesta hated seeing them in her home, indulging in her things after everything that had happened. It brought up all the feelings from when Nesta and Cassian had been together; all those times she felt ostracized, alone, like nothing she did or said was good enough for those people. Not even her sisters or boyfriend at the time felt she was worth enough to stand up for. And then  everything with Tomas. Nesta’s heart sank at the thought. What does it say about me, she thought, when the only love anyone wants to give me is one that hates? Maybe the answer was easy. Maybe Nesta was not a person who was meant to be loved. Emerie had called her brave, yet she felt anything but.

Nesta tried to control her breathing with the counting exercise her therapist had taught her as she felt that familiar course of anxiety run through her veins. She took a deep breath. Five things you can see: cars on the street, a cat walking into an alley across the street, a plane flying, an ‘open’ neon lights sign in a restaurant window, a fire hydrant. Four things you can touch: the  ground, the railing, the flower pot next to the door, her keys.

“You must really be enjoying your party if you’re out here,” a familiar voice said. Nesta's heart picked up, but she ignored it and scowled.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” she said as Eris walked towards her. 

“I like to be fashionably late,” he replied, standing in front of Nesta.

“So late that you almost missed the party?” She feigned disinterest as she watched a cloud of air puff from her mouth. 

“You sound disappointed. What’s wrong, Witchling? Were you beginning to miss me?”

“No,” Nesta said too quickly. Eris smirked knowingly at her, and Nesta hated it. She stared daggers at him. “I didn’t. Shut up.”

There was a glimmer in his eyes as he smirked at her. They lightened up in a way Nesta hadn't noticed before. Amber eyes, warm like honey, bright like she had just stumbled upon buried gold. She quickly dismissed the thought, mumbling about how irritating he was.

Eris rubbed at his arms as he looked around their surroundings. “Why are you out here in the freezing cold?” he asked. “You’ll catch your death.”

“That would make you happy. You’d no longer have me to compete with for surgeries.”

He hummed in agreement. “That would be nice. But I would miss the competition too much.”

Nesta sniffled and eventually answered his question. “I don’t like parties.” 

Eris looked up at the building. “That bad, huh?”

“No,” she said in defense of everything Emerie and Gwyn had done to put this together. Guilt started gnawing at her. She didn't want them to think she wasn't grateful for all of this, but between seeing her sisters and Cassian’s family again, and everything still fresh with Tomas, it felt overwhelming. She supposed seeing two exes in less than 24 hours would do that for anyone. “I just didn't feel like being around a bunch of people right now.”

“Even if I'm the alternative?” 

“Normally I'd say no,” Nesta grumbled, “but I'll make an exception this one time.”

Eris nodded. They settled in silence for a moment, which Nesta found oddly comforting. She closed her eyes. Three things you can hear. A car horn in the distance, crickets chirping somewhere nearby, -

Nesta straightened as Eris took a seat on the step next to her, putting a warm jacket around her to cover her shoulders. “You don't have to do that.” She began to shrug out of it, which only made Eris pull it around her tighter. 

She shook her head. “This feels weird. Take it back.”

He scrunched his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because it's weird! We fight. We compete. We despise each other. We’re not friendly.”

Eris shrugged casually. “What if I made you a deal?”

Nesta raised an eyebrow, wary of where the conversion was heading. “What kind of deal?”

“What if we were enemies that sometimes. . .” he paused, trying to think of the right word, “tolerated each other. At least for tonight.”

“I’m tolerating you right now.”

“And it’s not so bad, is it?” he asked, bumping her knee with his playfully.

Nesta grumbled and looked ahead. “Jury’s still out.” Eris huffed in laughter, and Nesta fought back a grin. Being here with him was surprisingly nice and if she was honest, it was the most she enjoyed herself tonight. Though she’d never admit that to him.

“Don’t get me wrong, I still hate you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” she said.

“Well as long as we’re on the same page.”

After a few quiet moments, Eris’ voice grew more serious. “How are you? After everything?”

Nesta tensed, ice freezing over the cozy stalemate the both of them had been sharing. The last thing she wanted to think about, let alone talk about was Tomas. Tomas showing up at her job. Tomas screaming at her in front of patients and coworkers. Tomas gripping her arm so hard that bruises formed. Until Eris got involved.

The memory burned her raw. “If that’s what you want to talk about, then feel free to leave,” she glared at him, her voice low in warning like an injured wolf baring its teeth. They'd had some kind of peace offering these last few minutes, but Eris’ words now rebuilt that wall of ice Nesta learned to guard herself with.

“I don’t mean any offense, Nesta. I just wanted to make sure-”

“That’s not your concern. Worry about yourself,” Nesta spat as she got up. She'd thrown open the door to her building when Eris spoke again.

“I was six when I first saw my father hit my mother.”

Nesta froze before she could retreat inside. The air stilled around them. 

Eris paused for a moment before continuing. Cleared his throat. Swallowed. “She accidentally dropped a wine glass near him when trying to clean the table off one night after dinner. It happened so fast I thought I imagined it for a second. But she was on the floor, and she seemed frozen there. I started to run to her to make sure she was okay, but my father gave me a look. It was full of ire. ” Nesta stood still, watching him. Eris clenched his jaw at the memory. His eyes seemed far away, lost in that horrid memory. She knew all too well what that was like. “My mother got up on her knees after that. She gave me a warm smile, trying to comfort me the only way she could. The bruise was already forming around her eye. She just cleaned up the broken glass, and went about putting the dishes away like nothing happened.”

Eris fidgeted where he sat. Nesta hesitated before sitting down next to him again.

“I was so happy when he died. I felt like I could breathe for the first time in my life.” 

“How is she now? Your mom?”

Eris nodded to himself. “She’s good. Better. I moved her into my apartment so she wouldn’t have to worry about being alone. At least this way I can take care of her.” He chuckled as he fiddled with his hands. “She says I worry too much.”

“That’s nice of you to do,” Nesta said. “You’re a good son, Eris.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m not. I left her alone to deal with him all these years. Being there for her now is the least I can do.” Nesta didn’t know what to say to that, or how to comfort him even though she found herself wanting to. Her heart went out to him and his mother. She'd never heard much of the matriarch of the Vanserra family when Beron Vanserra was still alive and owned the hospital both Nesta and Eris worked at. She'd attend whatever events necessary, but her presence always seemed to fade away into the background while her husband was the center of attention. Nesta couldn't imagine having a life like that, being stuck with someone like that. Chills erupted on her arms when she thought of how close she'd been to a future like that. 

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked, almost in a whisper, like if she spoke louder, it would reveal their terrible and painful secrets to the world. 

He shrugged. “I know something personal about you. Now you know something personal about me.” 

For the first time since everything had gone wrong, a small part of Nesta felt like she wasn’t alone. Like she’d glimpsed a crack of light in spite of how a certain hollowness can emerge from the foundations of a situation like that. Eris Vanserra was the last person she expected to understand the shattered pieces of what remained of her. Yet he understood in ways no one else had, like a kindred pain.

Nesta’s thoughts were interrupted by the feel of something dropping in her lap. She looked down and found a wrapped present in its place. 

“You got me a gift?”

“Of course I did. I’m not cheap.” Nesta noticed his eyes shift uncomfortably when Eris looked down at the gift. “You don’t have to open it now.”

That only made Nesta more curious and eager. She delicately unfolded the gift wrap, making sure not to tear any of the paper. A small gasp escaped her when the gift was revealed.

In her arms was a copy of A Tale For the Stars to Remember. It was a love story between a human woman and a Fae Prince. Not only was this the first book ever written by Sellyn Drake, but it was one Nesta had practically memorized every page of as she read it over the years. She flipped through those familiar pages now, took in her favorite words. And this copy was signed! The inscription on the title page of the book included a message. A personalized message. For her. Sellyn Drakes knows who I am, Nesta thought with glee. Sellyn Drake touched this book. The message wished Nesta a happy birthday, and thanked her for her continued support in reading his novels. It is because of your dedication as a fan that I am where I am today, and I am honored to give you the first edition of this cherished story, it read before Sellyn Drake signed his name.

Nesta’s eyes widened at that. “The first edition? This is the first edition?” she asked in disbelief.

“I, um, know the author personally.” Nesta's eyes widened even more.

“What? H-how? How did you even know this was my favorite book?” Nesta asked incredulously. She closed her mouth when she realized it was hanging open.

“You, Emerie, and Gwyn talk about it all the time at the hospital.” Eris stated.

“You eavesdrop on our conversations?” Nesta glared at him, the revelation bursting her bubble momentarily. 

“You’re all very loud.” Eris glared right back. “It makes it difficult to get work done when the three of you are squealing over fictional characters.”

“You could’ve given this to me on Monday.” 

“I know,” was all he said.

Nesta broke into a grin as she delicately flipped through the pages again. 

“Thank you, Eris,” she said, looking back up at him. 

“You’re Welcome, Nesta.”

Something softened in Eris’ face as he looked at her. They had been staring at each other for only a moment but it felt much longer, and each second caused Nesta’s heart to speed up more and more. She begged her racing heart to calm down. She was sure he could hear it. A faint blush colored his cheeks. His eyes dropped to her lips, lingering there for a few seconds, and then looked back up at her. “Happy birthday, Nesta,” he whispered before getting up and leaving. It was only when he was gone that Nesta felt she was able to breathe normally again.

@nerisweek

[ronearoundblindly]

Hit By Fate

a Steve Rogers x Reader life lesson

[This is my own entry for my 1-1-1 Challenge, but also is a very belated gift fic for @itickledthesleepingdragon. May we all remember that we are worth care and consideration!💜] WC 2365

Recommended links: Habibi Through The Years--The Old Guard fandom, Joe/Nicky (Ao3) Invaluable--Star Wars fandom, dad!Obi-Wan

Summary: It's just an accident, and you're totally fine. One handsome man, however, does not agree.

It’s not their fault; it’s just bad luck.

You should have texted to confirm this morning, but since Syd told you she’d text you if anything changed, you didn’t want to pry. Your friends make enough fun of you already for never coming out. You didn’t want to give them one more story in their long list of times you bailed. They already think you’re allergic to fun, so tonight you were going to show them.

You’d rushed to the restaurant after work. You even woke up early to do your hair before work so that you’d still look nice. You brought a purse to transfer your wallet and keys and makeup into so as not to carry your much larger work bag around. You even drank less water the entire afternoon so you wouldn’t be rushing to the restroom and slowing down your cross-city commute.

But then you arrived and there was no reservation.

Not under anyone’s name.

The hostess seemed outstandingly indifferent to your situation. You stepped aside for other patrons, sneaking peeks through the wonky glass dividers to catch a glimpse of your friends at a table maybe, and you texted one.

>>Hey.

<<Whaddup? Tiff replies.

>>You guys here yet?

<<Where?

You give the name of the restaurant and feel your guts crash to the polished wood floor.

<<We were there earlier. Yeah. Why?

Your hands start to shake with anxiety and a touch of rage.

>>I thought we were meeting at 7

The dots show up and disappear. The hostess huffs, staring at you while striking through a line on her paper. You’re blocking one of four total doors to enter the building, but apparently, that’s still taking up too much space.

<<Syd and Karol got off at 4 so we just had drinks early

<<TGIF

<<On a pub crawl now

They know you still work tomorrow. They know you likely would barely drink at dinner. You know exactly why no one would bother asking you if you could get out of work early, and you know they would not try any spontaneous fun for your first time out in months. They didn’t ask because they knew you’d say ‘no,’ or even worse, they knew you’d say ‘yes’ but be uncomfortable the entire time.

You try to call Syd, a last-ditch effort to get a lock on just how drunk or how far away they are. You tell yourself that if they are close and seem relatively coherent (and if the bar serves some small plates of something because you are hungry) then you’ll go. You will absolutely go.

Syd doesn’t pick up. You try Karol. No dice.

Fine. You turn to ask the hostess if there is space at the bar to eat, but she looks at you with such annoyance and a raised finger while she handles a couple who clearly out-rank you in some way.

Defeated, you leave instead.

This whole thing has taken so little time that you’d have to wait another ten minutes for the next bus back. You just walk, staring down at your phone, willing one of them to talk to the other, willing one of them to realize they’ve left you behind.

Do they even care that they’ve done it? Are they even your friends anymore?

The sad part is that you don’t go out much, but these are the friends you go out with the most. It just so happens that’s a few times a year, and that is you trying. This is you pushing yourself.

It’s not good enough.

Just as the WALK sign lights up at the street corner, the dots show back up under Syd’s message, and you shove it closer to your face.

You don’t see it coming.

A cab’s bumper smacks your left leg and bats you sideways. The solid hit feels like a tumble on the ice rink. It spins you, your phone flying out of your hands, and you’re scrambling not to fall. Your muscles tense every which way that’s not natural, probably looking klutzy.

You shoot back up too fast and look around, wondering if people are staring at you now, but the few other people crossing simply walk on by.

The cabbie only rolls down his window.

“You okay?”

Not actively concerned. Not getting out of the car. Not even apologizing.

But if you’d kept walking, you’d be across already. If you weren’t just standing there, the cab would be able to turn and so would the several others behind him.

One honks.

“Fine,” you say quietly, waving him on for emphasis and stepping back to find your phone.

All the effort of the day, all the preparation mentally and physically, and you are stranded on the wrong side of the road, exactly where you started, metaphorically and near-actually run over.

You have to crouch down by the curb and pray your phone didn’t slide into the gutter, wincing at a particular angle that shoots pain up your left thigh. Maybe you aren’t fine.

“Miss?” a tentative, low voice calls above a classic pair of Converses on the sidewalk. “Think this is yours.”

A man in glasses and a ball cap hands your phone back, the screen mercifully intact.

It’s such a tiny blessing in this string of unfortunate events.

The breath you take turns into a whimper and ends in a sniffle. Tears sting your eyes as you start to think about what happened—what really happened—in the past minute.

“Thank you,” you choke out, snatching the device. The gesture seems aggressive after the fact. “Sorry. Thank you,” you try again.

“You okay?” How the same two words can sound so different from two people, you’ll never know, but the difference floors you harder than the car’s impact.

With the utmost care, the stranger’s hands lightly touch your shoulders and guide you out of the road.

“I’m fine.” You’re an automated recording, retreating to a quiet and lonelier space in your mind. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

“You got hit by a car,” he says bluntly.

“No, just a—“ you look up into the man’s face, his blond hair, his blue eyes, his strong jaw, his height “—graze.”

“Yeah, you got grazed by four thousand pounds.”

“You’re…” All you can do is point at Captain America’s chest and blink.

He frowns and whispers. “You recognize me?”

Somehow that’s the strange part?

“Shoot. The glasses usually work. Don’t…please don’t make a big deal, but I…I’m sorry I couldn’t pull you out of the way.”

Steve Rogers buries his hands in his jean pockets, folding himself more into the cover of his hoodie and leather jacket.

“You wanted to help me?” you croak.

He ticks his head in confusion, respectfully indicating that you’ve asked the one and only dumb question known to mankind.

“Why?”

You don’t even know what you’re asking about now. Why me? Why today? Why now? Why not? You don’t notice your hands are shaking until he grips them gently.

“I can take you to the hospital,” he offers.

“I’m fine.” The repeat earns you another frown. “I’m not…hurting,” you clarify.

“That’s called shock, sweetheart.”

Steve seems to catch himself and sighs.

“Sorry. What I mean to say is let’s find you some water and somewhere to sit, okay? I’ll check you out then.”

You nod immediately. He’s only half-turned when Steve spins back around.

“Not check you out check you out,” he mumbles, “just like a once over. No, not…” he sighs harder. “I am going to make sure you are alright.” Every word is strategically emphasized.

He leads you to the nearest bench. His head stays down the entire way to a newspaper stand to buy you a bottle of water.

You can tell by the way Steve monitors every move of the bottle to your lips that he fights doing it for you. From his overly attentive posture, you’re surprised he waits a whole minute to ask how you feel yet again.

Still stunned, honestly, but it’s not just your left leg that aches, it’s your whole body. That seems too pathetic to admit aloud, but if you say the ‘fine’-word one more time, he’ll surely carry you to the dang ER. He has that look.

Instead, you admit, “I’m hungry.”

A smile blossoms over his features. “I can help with that.”

The boyish glee with which Steve Rogers walks you (gingerly) to a nearby, hole-in-the-wall pizza parlor is endearing. You’re not a patient for those minutes, and when he orders for you both (there are three lines on the board and that’s the menu) while you claim a teeny tiny booth, you’re not a victim of your day.

When he tells you how he found this place originally, how it’s almost like the pizza he remembers from long ago but better, you’re not alone anymore.

“Were you going to get food when…” Steve trails off.

Maybe it’s the shock wearing too thin to mask the rest. Maybe it’s the hot cheese warming your insides and melting your anger. You spend the next ten minutes blabbing about what happened with your friends and explaining what you were doing when the cab hit you.

“So you weren’t even okay before the car?”

His words throw you for a loop.

“No, I mean, it was just a misunder—“

“You’re doing it again,” he cuts in. “You’re diminishing you in the picture.”

You take a long swig of your soda while staring blankly at him. You watch Steve realize you aren’t even going to impose on him for an explanation. He drops his slice on the plate and holds out his huge hands as props.

“The whole picture of your day, right?” His arms are wide, then he points at things on the table. “You told me about Syd and why it’s ‘fine’ that she changed plans for her own convenience. About Tiffany and Carly—“

“Karol,” you sputter mid-sip.

“Carol, right, sorry. Everyone has a -y in their names now. I just assumed.”

“Karol with a -k,” you add.

Steve…ponders whether that’s some sort of joke before waving his hands to regroup. “You told me how your other friends—using that term loosely—rationalize leaving you to eat or even navigate the city alone—“

“I don’t need a chaperone.”

“Debatable,” he chuckles. “And then you tell me about how the cab driver probably didn’t need the hassle of dealing with some minor injury he inflicted on—and I quote—‘someone.’”

His eyebrow pops up over the rim of his glasses as if that will drive his point home, but you’ve got nothing.

“Where are you in the picture?” he finally blurts. “It’s your time and your effort and your body and your safety, and you just told me everyone else is more important. They all deserve consideration before you in your own life. Including some driver who could have killed you!”

He’s getting visibly agitated the more he talks, and you shrink in the seat, not out of fear but out of guilt for taking an evening of Captain America’s time to yourself. If your friends couldn’t even stand to spend a meal with you, it makes sense that Steve would be annoyed with your company.

“Wait, there,” he points directly at your face, “what was that thought? What did you just think?”

“I—I’m sorry I—“

“What do you have to be sorry for?” Steve asks bluntly.

He must see your eyes glisten with more unshed tears because his whole body visibly softens.

“You showed up at the place you all agreed on—“ he counts on his fingers “—at the time you were told, and walked across a street with right of way.” He does what you are beginning to think of as his signature sigh. “Am I missing something?”

All you can do is chew on your bottom lip.

It takes you what feels like an eternity to notice. “I could have really been hurt,” you mumble finally. “That’s not okay.”

Steve stretches his long arm across the tiny table, opening his palm to await yours.

“I hate to tell you this. You don’t have to be torn open to be ‘really hurt,’ sweetheart.” This time he says the nickname with firm intention. He squeezes your hand. “Now, I’d appreciate it if you’d come to the infirmary with me and get some industrial-grade salve on what’s sure to be a nasty bruise.”

You smile sadly, still pushing away errant thoughts that you’re imposing on the Captain.

“And by the time that’s over…it’ll be time for a late-night dessert before I take you home.”

In the fluorescent light, you can see him blush fiercely.

“As an escort—escort you,” he corrects, “to your door, I mean. For safety.”

He shrugs uncomfortably to adjust his layers of disguise, hanging his head, this time to hide his face from you.

“If you ever wondered why I’d go out to pizza alone,” Steve whispers, “wonder no longer.”

He scoots across his side of the booth to stand.

You think for a long moment.

This is important. This is one of the most important men in the country—nay, the world—begging you to be the protagonist in your own life. He wants you to want that.

You deposit the last grease-crumpled napkin onto the stacked plates and clear your throat. “I like this picture,” you say first, but it’s not enough. It’s not loud enough. It doesn’t hold weight or take up its due space.

You try again.

“I like being in this picture.”

He’s tall and his gleaming white teeth are perfect and his bright blue eyes are framed by long lashes and he’s staring right at you. How could you not shoot your shot?

“I’d—“ you fight the urge to look away “—consider seeing a sequel, too.”

Steve pushes up his fake glasses and nods, still pink in the cheeks. His hesitation reads as shy, not polite, not dutiful.

He juts out an average, hoodie-covered elbow for you to balance on.

“S’pose that means I should know your name, miss, and what your favorite flavor of ice cream is.”

Ro's 1-1-1 Challenge Details

A/N: In case you were wondering, the life lesson I wrote Steve Rogers teaching us is one that I constantly struggle with, too. This is an everyday, uphill battle to recognize our own worth and know that taking care of ourselves is not selfish. I hope this serves as a wee reminder!

Taglist: @supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[magnifythesun]

Someone should write a cute short fic or drabble about Ianthony helping Erin get the car back ... ;);)

Ian and Anthony going with Erin to get her car is one of my favorite Smosh things that's happened recently! Love this prompt heehee! I don't remember if we know why Erin's car was in custody, and I'm not gonna look it up, here we go!

---

Erin paced furiously up and down the hallway, fingers flying on her phone. Tommy ducked out of the crying bathroom, giving her a nervous glance as he left. She seriously considered taking her own turn in the crying bathroom but didn't quite make it before another text came in from her mom.

"Where... is your car exactly..."

Not the ellipses! Erin couldn't handle this right now.

"The police station mom!! 😭" She sent the first text frantically, then continued, "They were cleaning the streets and they towed it!!! I didn't see any signs with warnings or anything!!!!"

"Well you're going to have to go get it..." Her mom replied.

"yesss, but how? It's like five miles away! In LA!!! I can't just walk over there! It would take a million years and I'd get hit by a car😭😭😭"

"Can one of your coworkers drive you there? ❤️"

Erin thought about it. Most everyone had a car, and it's not like she was new anymore, but it still felt a little presumptuous to ask anyone. The police station was 5 miles away and Google Maps was estimating nearly an hour-long drive due to traffic.

"I don't know, maybe. It's a lot to ask... long drive..." Erin texted back, throwing her mom her own set of ellipses. Payback.

"Ask around, honey, and it'll all be okay. Bring some money though, they're going to charge you to pick it up."

"😭😭😭😭" Erin responded, then put her phone screen to sleep. She rubbed a hand over her face wearily as she walked out of the hall back toward civilization.

"Everything okay?"

Erin abruptly stopped so she wouldn't run right into Ian.

"Oh god, didn't see you there!" She stepped back and looked up at him. Ian's eyes were betraying his concern even as his face maintained his regular placid expression. Erin wondered how close to tears she looked.

Ian raised his eyebrows.

"I'm all good," Erin assured him, "But, well, I'm just worried about my car."

More visible concern formed on Ian's face. "What happened to it?"

"It got towed cause they were cleaning the street," Erin sighed. "I've got to run," She continued, already starting to walk away from him, "Gotta ask around to see if anyone could drive me the five miles over there."

"Oh, alright, uh, good luck!" Ian called after her.

~~~

A few minutes later, Erin was still hand-wringing over who to ask first when she found herself cornered in the kitchen. Anthony was leaning on the counter in front of her while Ian hovered off to the side.

"I hear you've got a car emergency?" Anthony said, sympathetic smile on his face.

Erin blinked at him. "Uh, yeah?"

Anthony looked over at Ian. "How far did you say it was?"

"Five miles," Ian said lightly.

"Oh, only five miles," Anthony nodded his head. "Well," He looked back at Erin and waved a thumb between himself and Ian. "We'll take you there."

Erin gripped the counter behind her slightly, surprise and hope warring in her chest. "For real? It's like an hour drive."

"In LA at this hour? Yeah, I figured," Anthony gave her a reassuring grin. "It'll be fun!"

"An adventure!" Ian chimed in, "We can grab a Starbucks and everything."

Erin let out a relieved laugh. "That sounds amazing. Thanks guys!"

"Don't thank us yet," Ian said warningly, "I'm assuming you've never seen Anthony drive."

"Hey!" Anthony reached over and shoved him out of the kitchen, Ian obviously letting the push carry him further than necessary. Anthony looked back at Erin. "Don't listen to him, I'm a fantastic driver. C'mon, let's go!"

~~~

Erin stumbled out of the car, clutching her coffee. Let's just say, if she hadn't gotten used to her mother's wild driving as a child, she'd be a lot more traumatized right now.

"See, safe and sound!" Anthony declared, shutting his door.

"Makes you grateful you're about to get your own car back, huh?" Ian muttered to her as he passed, heading toward the door of the police station, matcha latte in hand. Erin stifled her giggle.

What followed was a boring string of bureaucracy, unimpressed expressions from the receptionists, and a fee larger than she'd hoped, but she'd finally succeeded in getting her car back.

Right as she was waiting for the clerk to approve the last of the paperwork, she snapped a surreptitious pic of Ian and Anthony. They were both leaning against a counter, looking down at their phones, so nonchalant in their willingness to be there for her. A bubbling feeling of warmth bounced around her chest. She couldn't imagine her bosses from any previous job caring enough to help her out with this.

Grinning at her phone, she typed out the caption: "& Ty to my smosh dads for helping me get my car back from the police <3"

She reached her phone out toward them from where she was sitting. "All good if I post this?"

They both looked over. Ian barked out a laugh while Anthony started grinning. "Go for it," Anthony waved a hand expansively while Ian gave a thumbs up.

Erin hit post right as the clerk called out her name.

The three of them walked back out into the warm LA afternoon.

"See you back at Smosh!" Ian called over, "If we make it back in one piece."

"You're a big baby." Anthony grumbled, though he was clearly laughing as he waved a goodbye to Erin.

"See you guys there!" Erin waved back as she got into her own car. She placed her hands on the steering wheel firmly and reveled in having her own car back. "What a relief," She sighed. Starting the car, she grabbed her phone as she let the air conditioning get started.

She had a single text message, from her dad.

"Oh, so one dad isn't good enough for you anymore? 😢 Haha, glad you got your car back honey."

Erin grinned, put the phone down and started the long drive back to Smosh.

---

Post-writing note: sorry to anthony and erin's mother in particular, I'm sure you're both great drivers irl lolol! Also in the course of writing this I found the real reason her car was impounded but im not changing it in the fic lmao. AU!Erin's car impoundment

[torukmaktoskxawng]

tsamsiyu ta'em - prologue

Masterlist - part one

Summary: Corporal Makayla Sully believed she was the last of her family. Her parents were long gone, her brother Tom was killed for his wallet, and his twin Jake abandoned her in exchange for the sunny paradise Pandora. Kayla is informed of Jake's passing and so she decides to take a job opportunity with General Frances Ardmore. She hitches a ride to Pandora with the intent of recovering her brother's remains, twenty years since the last time she's seen him. Instead of a box of bones or ash, however, she's given something she thought she lost a long time ago.

Pairing: Ronal/Tonowari/Original Female Character

Tag: #tsamsiyu ta'em fic

Word Count: 1k+

posted on ao3

Taglist: @mooniequeen

Warnings: canon-compliant, canon-typical violence, mature language, adult content, slow burn, polyamory, found family, cool aunt agenda, alien/human (technically avatar), jake sully sister agenda, time skips, I'm trying to hurry up and get to the good parts so bear with me, fluff, angst, adopted spider, tags to be added

A/N: The title loosely translates from "warrior from above" in Na'vi

EARTH, OVER TWENTY YEARS AGO...

It's like a switch turned off in his head.

One minute he's drinking and actually enjoying life for once, the next he's thrown out of the bar and had been told his twin brother was dead. Seeing Tommy's body numbed everything, sobering Jake up before he even had a chance to puke the stuff out. It's one thing for his legs to stop working, it's another for his emotions to stop as well. The man barely said a word or even composed a proper emotion during the whole funeral process. After watching his brother's body being cremated, he hadn't been angry or even devastated by the loss. There wasn't a single tear shed on Jake's behalf during the service, his mind droning out the words exchanged and the condolences given.

Now, he sat in his wheelchair, staring out the window of his sister's crammed two-room apartment, not far down the road from his own living space. His hair was long and unkept with the idea of shaving it all off tomorrow, the dress jacket he had worn for the service now tossed to the couch behind him. The shaggy, old apartment didn't have much for lights, least of all a view, the only green to be seen being the lights of signs indicating a restaurant or a dollar store right outside. The familiar sound of ice clinking softly together in a glass could be heard behind him, along with a woman's voice.

"Jake? Jake."

"Hm."

The woman's voice drew closer as she crossed the room to him, "I found a job opening down the street. 'Pay is good. Thought we might check it out together?"

Looking up, Jake is met with a small glass with about a couple gulps worth of whiskey in it, and two ice cubes to make up for the shitty water content. He glances up at his sister as she offers the glass to him and he eventually takes the drink but doesn't acknowledge her words. Kayla's head tilts to the side, studying his reaction before speaking again, "What is it?"

His jaw tightens, taking the time to stare down at his drink while he finds the words, "... I'm taking Tommy's job. I'm gonna be shipped out on a shuttle tomorrow afternoon. In about... six years, I'll be landing on Pandora."

"... Really."

"Money's good," he tries offering the bright side, despite his brooding behavior. He gulps back his entire drink with one tip back of his head, tolerating the burn of alcohol before setting the empty glass on the window sill, "And they need someone with Tommy's face and DNA in order to sync up with the avatar they designed for him. I'll be saving them millions of dollars."

He doesn't need to see her face to know that Kayla was trying to refrain from scowling, "You don't know a single thing about science. You're a war dog."

"Not anymore, clearly," Jake muttered while his hands touched the wheels of his chair.

"You know what I mean. I mean you barely passed high school--"

"'And Tommy passed with flying colors', yeah I know," he responds flatly, a bad taste starting to form in his mouth, "I've heard that plenty of times, trust me."

"Jake-- why are you telling me all this the night before you're meant to leave?"

He finally looks up at her. Plain-faced and pale, Kayla still had a shadow of youth in her eyes, with plenty of life ahead of her. She may not be a twin like Jake and Tommy, but she still bore the resemblance of a Sully. Narrow nose, thin lips, dull blue eyes, and a pointed chin, Jake's younger sister could easily be misinterpreted as his twin now that Tom was no longer around. The thought made his stomach clench and the taste in his mouth got worse.

"So you wouldn't be able to stop me."

She huffs, unimpressed as she took a long sip of her own beverage, "Well, at least you're honest when you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk."

"When are you not drunk these days?" She hissed, "Do you think those scientists will take on a drunk in the RDA or whatever-the-fuck it's called?"

"I'll sober up in my cryotube. I'll be clean in six years and it'll only feel like six hours for me. It's a win-win."

"You mean a win-win-lose because that still means leaving behind your only living family member. Whatever happened to 'Sullys stick together?'"

Jake scoffs while taking a hand to rub his tired face, "You're not a kid anymore. You can make your own living, and start your own family. You don't need me and you definitely don't need this lifestyle. You could do anything with your life without your crippled brother holding you back--"

"Who died and made you the sole decision-maker of what I do with my life?"

"You're clearly leaving an opening for me to say 'everyone died.'"

She pointedly slammed her drink down on the window sill before she turned to walk away, "Fuck you."

"Kayla..." With his sister still exiting, Jake grabbed his wheelchair and made the motion to go after her, his arrogance and pent-up emotions now starting to boil over, "Hey! Kayla! What the hell do you want from me?!"

"I want to be the first choice!" She screams, whipping back around to point an accusing finger down at him, "For once! I have never been put first over anything else ever! Not with Mom or Dad. Not with Tommy. And now not even with you!"

The snarl he lets out startled even him, bitter coldness dripping from his words, "Grow up, Kayla."

"What, is it childish to feel wanted?"

"Yes! That's not how you survive out here!" He emphasizes this by swinging an arm in the direction of the window.

"Stomping down feelings and a need for your family will ensure your survival?"

"'A need for your family?'" He grins up at her, incredulous and in disbelief, "Do you even hear yourself? It's not like I'm your first choice for a caring older brother!"

"No, you're not. You're always drunk, mean, and miserable these days."

"Hence why you don't need me holding you back--"

"Shut the fuck up!" She roars back, "Only you can hold you back. So stop trying to sell me this bullshit excuse that you're not worth keeping around only so you can ditch me! Because that's what you really want, isn't it? To ditch your sister?"

The room is silent apart from both siblings trying to regain their breath and posture. Jake had a hard time admitting that his voice had cracked when he managed to tone down the volume, "... No matter how I answer that... it won't be an answer you like."

Pain flashed in her eyes, a visual that would continue to haunt Jake from that day forward. Kayla's dirty-colored hair spills over one shoulder as she straightens herself up, towering over Jake, the hurt quickly being replaced by a wall of cement that quickly hardened behind her blue eyes. Her face relaxed into an expression that slowly bubbled with anger instead of pain, her voice dripping with venom, "You're right. Because you're either leaving me here because you don't want me to watch you die, or you're leaving to start a new life without any reminders of me. Either way, you're a sick son of a bitch and I wish you died instead of Tommy! Go to Hell!"

For added measure, she takes her foot and kicks at his wheelchair, pushing Jake back as he rounds back with more hateful words, quick to defend and pity himself, "I'm already in Hell! Living here, breathing this air, looking like this! This whole place is fucking Hell and I'm sick of it! You can love life as much as you want and make the most of it, but it's still a dying dream! I hate it here! I'd rather blow my brains out on Pandora than here! At least there's something nice to look at when that happens!"

The silence is nearly deafening the apartment, Jake's ragged breaths of anger pounding in his ears as he glares up at Kayla. Spontaneous tears spilled out of her eyes the second Jake found the time to blink, her breaths shaking as she tried to control herself from letting out any pathetic noise resembling a sob. It was a struggle, to be sure, as Jake watched her entire composure slowly crumble and shake, trying to grasp whatever dignity she had left.

"I hate you..." the words sound forced out, but they stab Jake straight in the chest, nonetheless. Kayla's voice croaked as she continued the verbal lashing, "I hate you..." She furiously wipes away her tears with the collar of her dress shirt that she had worn for her big brother's funeral, "When I wake up tomorrow, you better be gone by then."

The pent-up rage had been released in a cold laugh under his breath as Jake tightly gripped his wheels, "How about I do us both a favor and leave now!"

He rolls past her and makes it to the door, letting it slide open for him with a bit of a struggle due to the little power left in the mechanics of it. He doesn't turn back as he aggressively wheels forward, calling over his shoulder, "Have a good life, kid."

"Fuck you, Jake."

Then the door slides shut once more.

A/N: If you didn't see up top, I already have a masterlist starting since I have three chapters of this fic already published on ao3. Please check it out and leave kudos and uplifting comments if you enjoy, thank you!

[anguishedlurker]

Don't Shoot; It's me! No, the other guy! (#38, fake body swap)

HI Y'ALL welcome to my ecto-imposion fic! I'm the writer of course and my wonderful artist was @astravis , and @thesilentbard plus @dragonsdomain he;ped me out with betaing! Check them all out! Buckle up, because this is just the first chapter! And maybe look at the ao3 posting

Of things Danny should have predicted, Skulker and Technus teaming up one day was going to land pretty high on the list.

It all started so normal, too! Getting multiple ghosts at once wasn’t uncommon anymore, and Skulker appearing? Must be a day that ends with Y.

Technus, though...

“I’ll pelt you yet, whelp!” Skulker bellowed, having been ineffectually brained with the remains of a lamppost.

Technus was thusly absorbing the lamppost's remains into his suit, adding yet another object that would qualify as a taser in the right circumstances.

“AND I, TECHNUS, WILL USE THIS OPPORTUNITY TO-”

“No, really, do you ever shut up?!” Danny cut him off, meanwhile diving behind the remains of- ooohhh this was that vegan place Sam liked. He was going to hear about this one for weeks.

“Your disrespect remains immeasurable, child.” Skulker growled, not wasting time in obliterating what was left of the building.

“YEAH, WHAT IS HE? CHOPPED LIVER?”

Danny didn’t pay this mind, throwing some potshots at the both of them as he skittered away for new cover.

“He’s a mecha pain in my- AAA”

We interrupt this smart comment for debris! Debris; A mark of your failure to protect.

Debris wasn’t a new threat, but regardless? That was going to bruise.

Danny was ready to punch them to paste barehanded if it’d get this fight to stop. Skulker already had a weapon making shield borderline painful to maintain against blasts, and with Technus in tow couldn’t be trusted to not get a random power-boost.

Meaning this needed to end, now!

However, “now” would have to be sometime after Technus’s blasts stopped slapping him down like an especially annoying kitten.

“Ah, finally showing cowardice whelp?” Skulker taunted, lazily aiming one of his guns as Danny darted somewhere over an alleyway.

“I prefer to call it intelligence!”

“RUNNING WILL NOT HELP YOU HERE, PEST!” Technus borderline giggled.

Clearly, Danny thought as a piece of roof exploded behind him.

… That one might’ve been that weirdo occult shop that was trying to set up without him noticing. Couldn’t say he’d miss it, if nothing else.

It was really starting to look like “damage control” meant doing some damage himself to cut this short.

He was absolutely going to hear it from Sam once he was done here, as it wasn’t like ecto-ice was easy to clean up. (God knows what's IN that Danny!)

Somewhere in the distance the Fenton GAV wailed, a bad sign for all participants.

So… one shot to do this, maybe two… Eh. He’s had worse odds before!

One last sacrificial rubble pile to buy a second, aaand-

“I DO BELIEVE WE MUST CUT THIS ONE SHORT! SKULKER, IF YOU WOULD?”

“It's a pleasure to use this new toy.”

Danny didn’t even get time to throw an icicle at them.

The rubble exploded, and then Danny exploded, flung across the street like a sack of potatoes and making several things give an upsetting crack on landing.

Screw bruising at this point, he’d be lucky if all of this managed to heal before Monday.

Note to self: Never ever let Technus Skulker pair up ever again.

“FASCINATING RESULTS!” Technus beamed as Danny groaned his way onto his feet.

“Your move, whelp.” Skulker growled, gun pointed at Danny.

“That little toy? Ha, it barely even-!”

And see, there’s many things about Danny’s powers that would never be properly explained to his friends. How intrinsic they all were by now, above all else.

A running start and pathetic hop into the air didn’t actually mean much for flying; by all accounts Danny could go from zero to sixty in a standing position.

So, the raw humiliation of that pathetic hop- intended to be a full assault launch- landing him in a kneeling position took a second to process.

It was just so impossible.

The metal on Skulkers helm twisted to a smile as the gun gave a shrill whine.

Technus giggled as he absorbed a car into his already overburdened monstrosity of a mech, clearly thinking this fight was done.

The GAV siren had never been so loud.

There was really only one choice: Run. Run for his life.

The street lit up behind him, adrenaline carrying him much faster than he had any right to be on foot.

“RUNNING AGAIN, WHELP?” Technus shouted, much too close for Danny’s liking.

“That’s Skulker’s thing!” He shouted back, at a total loss for anything witty.

“I’ve done no such thing as run, child!”

“I THINK HE MEANS THE TERM WHELP.”

Oh good, yes! Get distracted!

“Your thievery of my vocabulary will not go unpunished; yet, for now, we have our prey-”

“UNPUNISHED? WE ARE ALLIES! TO RAISE YOUR HAND IN VIOLENCE AGAINST ME NOW WOULD-”

“Not right now you imbecilic-”

The blasts behind him were slowing down immensely already, buying him a slide around a corner with enough lead to shove himself between buildings.

Still, even with this he wasn’t exactly well hidden.

His options, in this fine back alley, were… A broken mirror, two cardboard boxes, and a dumpster.

…

The dumpster was uncomfortably moist as he shoved himself in and closed the top, and the smell- is this the nasty burger dumpster??

Slowly the town map in his head adjusted. Eugh… Desperation carried him farther than he thought.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE’VE LOST HIM!?”

“The shot must have suppressed his signature. The tracker will be borderline worthless unless we are on top of him.”

Oh, good! Truly, a fair trade for his powers! And once he was done being sarcastic, probably the single blessing he’d get out of this.

“I WOULD CALL THAT EVEN LESS THAN BORDERLINE.”

“Your worthless insistence on semantics is duly noted.”

The bickering continued into the distance, followed shortly by the GAV wailing and his father pointedly screaming.

“Rotten ghosts, molecule by molecule would be too good for you!”

“Phantoms not re-appearing on the radar, but keep an eye out regardless. Who knows what cloaking tactics it’s come up with this time. To the right!” His mom warned, getting fainter and fainter (in the wrong direction) as the GAV sped after Technus and Skulker. Or wherever the altered signal was leading them.

One would think it’d only work the once...

Danny was left to contemplate the situation in silence. Nothing would get done in the dumpster, sure, but hey, uncomfortably moist? More like comfortably hidden.

But beyond that being cowards talk, he reeaallly couldn’t sit there and trust that his parents or even Valerie would pull through on this one.

Okay, well, first task; Phase out of the dumpster.

An action that should be on the same level as ‘flex your jaw’, and yet, Danny was no less uncomfortably moist in sauce juice by the end of his attempt.

The whole thing was unpleasantly reminiscent of the Fenton crammer, minus the shrinking. Powers suffocated to the vaguest wisps in the back of his skull, borderline hallucinations to his futile attempts to use them.

Still stuck in the dumpster, Danny mentally conceded to plan B; Phone a friend.

Tucker was, unfortunately, out at a tech event for the weekend. Which meant it needed to be Sam.

Sam, who was stuck appeasing her parents today in exchange for the stunt with Ms. Hoffman last week.

Somewhere in the distance shots sounded off, indicating that someone had found his two enemies.

Danny didn’t have high hopes as he popped open the dumpster lid and shakily dialed. First of all it’d require Sam to already be out of the dreaded social situation, and secondly it’d mean he got a stroke of good luck if she picked up either way.

His anxiety collapsed to resignation as the ring tone meandered on, leaving him to ignore the layers of irony and humor in his ringtone having been changed to Mystery Skulls’ Ghost.

Pink blasts flashed in the sky from somewhere distant, meaning either Vlad got involved or Valerie had shown up- one more likely than the other.

“Hi! If you don’t know who this is, you shouldn’t have called anyways, and if you do and I didn’t pick up then I’m ignoring you specifically and your voicemail better give me a good reason to call back. And Tucker, if that’s you, I’m not paying for that. You know I’m not. Stop asking. Leave a message after the-”

Danny didn’t wait any longer to hang up. No voicemail would ever be secure enough to risk actually leaving one, and leaving one wouldn’t even speed up the response time.

An especially bright pink and green flash washed over what was probably half the town, and a large crash sounded from several different points in the area.

Now down the phone a friend option, Danny elected to revisit and modify plan A by throwing his leg over the side of the dumpster instead.

You know, the lame way to exit.

None of his bones liked him as he hit the ground, the wind in his metaphorical sails really not keeping up with what he needed to be doing.

Even with the self deprecation heavily suppressed, the situation didn’t really brighten outside of the dumpster. How, precisely, would boxes aide him here? Box Ghost was still pretty peeved over the whole cardboard-boxes-dissolve-in-water solution...

A thoughtless attempt to transition between forms left a suspiciously glass-like popping noise to ring in his ears and leave him fallen face-first onto the ground.

The most intact piece of mirror sat across him, dimly processing as unsafe for workers to be near as the gerbil controlling intelligent thought in his head took a smoke break.

… Seriously, why not have just tossed the thing into the dumpster itself? It’s right there!

The gerbil returned from its smoke break as Danny took in his reflection somewhat, the wheel powering his thoughts creaking back to life.

The crammer had slowly stripped him of every Phantom attribute until only Fenton remained, while right now the present cause to all his woes seemed to have merged his clothes straight down to his hoodie and left every other feature untouched.

It was… weird.

And deeply irrelevant, actually. He needed to either try calling Jazz (ugh) or haul himself home to see if he can’t glue a solution together (different ugh).

Time to shove himself back up to kneeling and pick the gravel out of his teeth (hrng).

While he was at it, it might be a good idea to start a list of cameras that’d need their footage wiped. Even if Fenton’s clothes weren’t incriminating he just didn’t need-

There was an ecto gun by his head, the safety giving a click as it was turned off.

“Would you like to beg?”

He knew that voice- by god did he know that voice. Valerie had to be on that hoverboard just out of his field of view.

He had to have missed some sort of movement while slumped forward by the mirror- it’s not like he wasn’t in enough pain for reality to start blurring.

But that didn’t help, did it? Because he was readily identifiable as Phantom to a girl who wanted half of him dead(er), with zero powers or wit to throw at the situation that wouldn’t just get him shot faster.

But what would help!? She didn’t have any interest in listening to Phantom, barely had any in listening to Fenton, though her lethal intent would at least be lower!

Somehow, someway, the gerbil in his head clipped through the wheel's geometry and resolved to never return.

“Don’t shoot, Val, it’s me! Danny!”

The gun got MUCH louder in response

“Well, Danny Phantom, I think knowing my name-”

“N-No! Fenton!”

He could hear the dial-up noises in Valerie's head, he himself stuck on trying to process how royally he just screwed himself over.

“Let’s suppose, for just one second here, that I don’t believe that.”

“L-look Val, belief doesn’t have much to do with the fact that I’m like, super harmless right now. Literally what would I gain by telling you that?”

He could feel her eyes stare even harder, dissecting his identity in this new light.

“Time.”

Well, he had a good run…

The alleyway promptly exploded, leaving Valerie to skitter off to who knows where as she swore worse than any adult Danny had had the displeasure of listening to.

Danny himself was left hyperventilating in the dust, promptly hopping back into the dumpster and burying himself in the worst effort towards hiding he’s probably ever managed.

“I TOLD YOU IT WOULD BE HIGHLY UNLIKELY FOR HIM TO HAVE HIDDEN HERE.”

“Disappointing, and unexpected. The chase is far more important, but what distracted her?”

“I DO NOT BELIEVE THIS TO MATTER. YOU MAY HAVE SAID PRACTICALLY ON TOP, BUT I THINK AT THIS POINT IN THE ALLEY IT’S SAFE TO SAY HE’S NOT-”

“Move it or lose it, socket-licker. One of our high value targets is running.”

“YOU ARE ONE TO TALK, SHORTSTOCK. INSULTS ASIDE, I WAS GETTING THERE.”

Skulker’s “No, you weren’t. And you’re lucky we’re working together you-” got fainter as the two continued to completely miss his idiot self hidden just under the surface of two tonnes of food slime.

This was now the second time Danny was in the same dumpster, and honestly? He STILL didn’t want to leave!

He couldn’t cave to the desire this time either- trying to out his identity to Valerie in a last ditch effort to save his hide was officially going to go down as one of his dumbest decisions ever.

He couldn’t even think of anything funny his friends would mock him with this time. It was stupid all the way down.

Feet to the ground, eyes peeled for enemies- gone for now.

Time to unbend his pride and beat his mile run record while trying to call Jazz. Hey, multitasking!

He was going to lose his mind over this one. Even without his personal missteps this was bad.

“Hi, this is Jasmine Fenton! Hopefully I can get back to you soon, but for now, please leave a message after the-”

Click.

Two options, he pondered as he did a running slide past the corner grocery store.

One: Jazz was doing tutoring and had her phone off.

Or, possibly, two: Their parents loaded her onto the GAV and didn’t take no for an answer.

He didn’t hear her earlier trying to scream advice in an attempt to circumvent the danger their parents posed to everyone, but was it even a Tuesday for her to be busy with tutoring? Or maybe she does tutoring on Thursdays…

None of it mattered obviously. He had to get to Fenton Works ASAP.

There wasn’t strictly much that could help him, but he couldn’t imagine anything going even more wrong by using the splitter to try and get some part of him functioning again.

At worst, he’d have two people to drive the Speeder so he/they could gun it to Frostbite and see what could medically be done.

This totally didn’t gloss over every logistic and science issue ever, no sir!

And even if it did, what kind of options was he supposed to come up with right now!?

One more cut through an alleyway and Danny was in the home stretch towards Fenton works.

This moment was of course the same one a massive crash and crunch of metal sounded off a block away. Maximum.

Before he’d had the saving grace of a hiding spot. Now? Not so much! All it’d take was for Skulker or Technus to remember that they could fly above buildings and-

Well there went his survival odds!

The second after, Valerie flew above their heads, shooting down at them even as they launched onto his street.

And, for as distracting as she was, he couldn’t say his odds just got any higher.

Danny nearly took the door off its hinges trying to get in faster than anything could shoot at him, barely in before the street was awash in pink and green.

Just because he knew he couldn’t get blamed for this (mostly) didn’t mean the sense that he was so dead over this stopped creeping in.

“I, TECHNUS, WOULD LIKE TO REMIND YOU THAT-” Technus screamed, caving the door in with a broken lamppost, Technus himself soon followed suit, seeming to have shed most of his mecha well before the door- though he was losing more in an effort to get in with ease.

“If this is about the extended car warranty-!” Danny shouted back, trying to bolt for the basement. Or literally any of the house defense buttons- screw that they’d target him too!

“I WOULD NEVER SINK TO SUCH LEVELS, PEST!” Technus cut him off, the severed mecha parts bursting into and spreading wires and metal throughout the house in seconds.

Skulker didn’t waste time squeezing through besides Technus, grinning even as he was focused solely on the street outside.

“The basement.” Was all Skulker said before the option was gone from him, tangled in too much metal and wire to ever think about it again.

Danny wasn’t going to get time to think about this one, bolting upstairs instead as the door frame exploded into pink.

“All of you-”

Valerie interrupted herself with a gunshot to Technus.

“, rat bastards! No respect for-”

Skulker, now.

“anyone or anything! This is a house!”

Danny, now. He could feel it burn through both his shirt and suit even as he passed the last few steps to the second story.

Thank god for adrenaline.

Dashing down the hall as Technus and Skulker both roared into action, he performed the best running leap he’d ever managed to grab and pull the chain for the ladder.

Of course, having leapt for this privilege in a house meant for his dad meant he kept sailing through the air as the ladder slammed down behind him.

That was fine! Valerie was still distracted, just roll and climb! So easy.

So easy to corner himself on a roof with no options except to jump if he wanted off.

The fight continued on beneath him as he stared over the side, his world totally silent otherwise.

Grasping for inane details in the hopes one would matter, he saw nothing of use.

The day was bright, and clear. The town was quiet. If he turned slightly, he could pretend the wake of destruction didn’t exist.

But then he’d be ignoring the wires spilling out his front door, a shell of a car deposited in the center of the street- seeming to host most of the mess as a battery.

Valerie swore worse than ever below.

Nothing could help him right now. He was stuck either standing or jumping.

Or well, maybe he could at least do something about the gaping wound in his side… that might be good.

Slowly and carefully he stripped his hoodie off, noting that the hole was smaller than he’d been mentally giving it credit for.

His side still dripping as he dropped it unceremoniously, he realized that this was a dumb plan and that he couldn’t do anything anyways.

His side wasn’t a spot he could tourniquet. Pressure only helped so much in ghost form, as even with bones he was notably more squishy(?) than a normal human.

The fighting paused for one brief moment, before getting ten times worse, Valerie inadvertently teaching him new slurs for ghosts.

Danny looked over the edge of the building again, reaching for his pocket with a prayer.

…

“Hi, this is Jas-”

Click.

…

“Hi! If you don’t know-”

Click.

…

…

“You have reached this 🌟Too Fine🌟 of a voice mail-”

One last click off, phone thusly tucked back into his pocket.

Danny stood alone over what was closer to a three story drop than a two story drop (stupid vaulted ceilings…), and quietly sat on the edge as the fight below went silent and stayed silent.

Hand to his side regardless of if it’d help, he watched the car-battery-wire mess power down and simply waited.

Sure, he could jump, but the adrenaline was winding back down. He was already hurt, bad, in multiple ways. Valerie could fly and right now he couldn’t. There was nowhere on the street to hide and even if there was plenty of places the street over he wouldn’t get that far.

He was dead meat any way he went.

He could hear the ladder clack behind him as Valerie hauled herself up.

“What a surprise! All nice and ready for me.” Valerie huffed, immediately standing at the ready with a gun. Danny only just copped a glance before turning back towards the view.

Odd, no suit nor hoverboard. Maybe Technus had managed to hit her just right and made it shut off.

“Yeah. They go through the portal at least?” He asked, barely looking back as he gripped his side a little tighter.

“And here I- what? Um. Yeah, to my knowledge.” Valerie stuttered slightly, the earnestness of his question seeming to trip her worse than Danny’s previous bomb drop.

“Good. Lock the portal when you go back down. My parents will probably open it up by next week, but hey! Stops everything for now.”

Her steps towards him slowed to a crawl, and he could sense the caution and the suspicion even as she continued regardless.

God, he was really doing this. It occurred that he could still just shove himself off the edge, but he couldn’t think of anything that could possibly solve. Guns can be pointed over roof edges.

“Uh. Thank. You? B-But no uh, tricks or-”

She stopped by his side, gun still pointed as her eyes tracked across the roof for the surprise that simply must be coming.

“Valerie, I’m really sorry you think I could ever hurt you, but I’m out. Injured and done. It’s you or it’s splatting on the pavement. Dunno how much bounce back I’ve got left right now.”

“Any last… uhm-”

This is a super stupid way to die. But he’s pretty sure he’ll be a grease stain if he jumps, which is even stupider.

“I guess... Tell Sam, Tucker, and Jazz not to beat themselves up over it.” He hummed, finally looking at Valerie again.

He wondered how much of this mess the town behind him was seeing.

The gun shook silently before lowering and turning away.

“You are him, aren’t you?” Valerie asked softly, gun already dropping from her hands.

The gun dropped with an uncomfortable clatter as Danny gave the least shaky and uncomfortable smile he could manage, Valerie's eyes not even seeing him as she fixated on his stained hoodie.

“Phantom was never this sweet.”

Valerie clearly hadn’t focused on the words, so lasered onto her revelation that Danny’s brief twitch was entirely missed.

He couldn’t even be insulted right now; there was a certain amount of venom their fights had always had.

Silence extended further as Valerie only barely looked back up at him, still shaken.

“Thanks, I think. But uh. What now?” Danny asked, genuinely not sure. He just had to accept that insults to his other half could be addressed later.

How a reveal would go had always haunted him slightly, and this was probably a better ending than most of the realistic ones.

But even then, those fantasies always ended when she understood.

Valerie snapped to at the question, standing straight and returning to her facade of confidence.

“Helping. How’d they even do this to you?”

“Technus made Skulker a new gun, I think. It goes downhill from there.”

Carefully, Danny slid himself back onto the roof. He was struck with the sense that sudden moves would still get him killed, somehow. This was.. Too easy, almost.

Anxiety or not, the pain was also holding him back.

“Figures that those assholes would do this. Don’t suppose there’s an obvious way to fix this?”

“Not really? I mean… there might be something in the basement to help, but outside of that it’s not like I’ve got options beyond to sit here and suffer. Maybe see if Frostbite knows anything.”

“The basement, huh… Oh, thaaat’s why Skulker growled something out about it. Maybe we can-”

The GAV started wailing again, suddenly.

The offending vehicle was only streets away, and if he focused hard enough he could almost hear his dad yelling about having fixed something or other.

Farewell pain, hello adrenaline!

He was going to be so sick after today. He could just feel it.

“Bail!” He shouted, running back towards the ladder.

“What!?”

“Do you trust my parents not to shoot on sight!?”

The look of fear was immediate.

“Oh, god! Bail!”

In total agreement it was borderline a fight for the ladder and to get down to the first floor.

The wires hadn’t disappeared, leaving them precariously stood on the mess next to the kitchen.

“What’s your plan, Danny?! It’s their house!” Valerie hissed, eyeing him and the wires cautiously.

“WINDOWS ARE ALWAYS FAIR GAME!” He screeched, launching into the kitchen.

The voice of doubt in his head pointed out that it was incredibly lame for all his best executed moves for today to be so fundamentally stupid in nature.

Regardless, lifting the stand mixer and tossing it through the back window in one single uninterrupted motion, punctuated by the shattering of glass, was probably the smoothest thing he’d do today.

“YOU COULD HAVE OPENED THE WINDOW-”

“NO WE COULDN’T HAVE!” Danny yelled back, already launching himself through the opening regardless of potential cuts.

“WHAT?” Valerie screeched back, lingering before following suit.

“The Fenton Family Home Defense System locks the windows upon activation, with or without shutter activation! Even when it turns back off they’re stuck until you do a manual unlock!”

He was already bounding through the backyard, sailing himself over the fence without a second thought.

“Danny, in what world does that make sense!?”

Valerie was close behind.

“The one where my parents designed it! And the one where you’d then be stuck in a house with more weapons than people!”

“Danny, your parents are still nuts for locking-!”

“Losing battle! Pick and choose! Keep running!”

Valerie’s laugh was clear, like bells as they continued across town.

The stress was obviously getting to her- yet it was almost infectious. This was insane!

Eventually, well after they’d gone from a residential area back to business, he was yanked into a new back alley, Valerie still grinning as she caught her breath.

“And what about the door?”

“Also locked.”

She missed a beat before speaking again.

“So, what, not even the doors work until you do a system reset? That’s stupid.”

Danny had to laugh at himself right now.

“No, I just don’t remember the passcode! That door is pretty normal.”

“But you can’t leave without a code from the inside?”

“Normal for my house!” He giggled.

They were left with wheezing laughter over a near miss that wasn’t that funny to begin with.

Eventually Valerie’s hand left his shirt collar, moving to push him back slightly. Intimacy time over.

“Okay, Danny. Your parents are nuts and we don’t trust them not to shoot. Where are we going?”

“Well I could always hide in a dumpster again, but outside of that I don’t have any ideas. Sam’s busy and Jazz… well, is it Tuesday or is it Thursday, actually?”

Valerie gave him the blankest look imaginable for his question.

“It’s Saturday.”

… Well then!

“Okay, well, Jazz is tutoring. Probably. So she’s busy.”

“And Tucker, since you seem to trust your friends with this one?”

... What?

“Uh. At a tech camp somewhere in-”

“Got it. The basement might help, you said?”

Right, back to topic.

“I cannot stress that ‘might’ part enough. We’ve got a lot of weird stuff down there that’s come in handy in really stupid ways before.”

“Okay, well, that’s not great. You got an idea on how to get your parents out of the house?”

“Not in the slightest.” He admitted, shrugging as he spoke.

“Superb. Just fantastic. Okay, maybe we could camp at my place for an hour? At least until... or. Hm.”

Valerie finally lost her focus on him, looking to the side in thought.

Danny had to give credit where it was due that they were screwed in a different way, now.

Valerie’s fast turn saved his hide so he was certainly much farther than he thought he’d get, but there wasn’t much they could throw at his parents to make them disengage with the mess of wires Technus left behind. It was now valuable research material, at best.

Delightful.

“My place is probably for the best. Christ, that’s a distance to go.” Valerie muttered.

“Not to interrupt, but yeah actually. How are we getting there? Is your suit broken, or…?”

“Broken is a strong word. It self repairs, but yes, I’m grounded right now. And though I care about you, the huntress getting seen towing Phantom would not be good.”

There it was again, slighter than before but still present. The slight dissonance in how the situation was getting viewed.

Easy to shrug and move on though, right?

He probably shouldn’t.

“So… not to-”

“Look, we need to start moving. You’ve got a hat or something?”

“Man, I wish.”

“Okay, okay… shitty question, but Phantom can fly. Obviously. What can you do right now…?”

Uh.

“Uh. Nothing? Look, the blast- I think… Sorry, but what do you think happened? I just-”

Valerie’s eyes narrowed a touch in preemptive insult.

“Calling my explanation the abridged version gives it too much credit! I just want to make sure you understand what happened, and what you’re asking??”

Best cover he could’ve used, honestly.

Valerie cringed in on herself, obviously realizing something.

“Uhm, sorry, I didn’t mean to… Look, sorry. I know being in his body is probably really weird? But my place is over in Elmerton, and it’d be really helpful if one of us could… I’m sorry.”

She’d dodged the real question, but still managed to give the answer Danny needed.

In… this body…?

Oh. Oh boy.

[lixiesfreckless]

Burn It | l. m.

the last installment to Punch It, a fic from the PICU

➸ synopsis: The Golden Tire Cup semifinals is today, and Minho has the opportunity to get the Wolfgang Street Racing club to the finals for the first time in four years.

Hopefully with you by his side, he'll be able to make it into the top two.

➸ starring: lee minho x female reader(ft. idols from jypnation, smtown, hybe, kq, everywhere, I went a bit crazy)

➸ word count: 3.6k words

➸ general content: streetracer!minho, very very dangerous street racing(do not attempt to do any of this, no matter how tempting it may be), a stupid amount of cameos, one somewhat misogynistic background character, gearhead culture

➸ warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, a mild car wreck

➸ rating: teen+

➸ author's note: this is(should be) the final official installment to the picu! imagine punch it, floor it, and burn it as one continuous timeline, with the ending being this chapter. do I have a favorite? no, not after writing this chapter.

♫ this fic has a soundtrack! you don't need to listen to it while reading(especially if the lyrics will bother you), but it's a street racing tournament for crying out loud. do yourself a favor and listen to these epic vibes.

yes, it's meant to be listened to in that order(starting from Deja Vu). shuffling it will result in Minho cramming you into an air fryer for 20 minutes at 180 degrees.

♫- Deja Vu

You feel the refreshing spray of hose water on your bare back, soaking your black bikini top for the fourth time this evening. 

Whipping around, you find Minho rinsing off the back of his car, free hand stuffed into his pocket as he whistles and avoids eye contact.

He’s hit with a soapy sponge, square on the back of his black shirt.

“Hey!” He ditches the hose, deciding to pause washing the vehicle in favor of chasing you around the bumper.

The Wolfgang racing club had gathered at Changbin’s house for the annual Golden-Tire-Cup-and-car-show-preparation-party, detailing and fixing cars as needed before it’s time for the race, which takes place in the California desert shortly after sundown. Members were littered across the lawn and garage, replacing rims, tightening brakes, and avoiding Minho, who had taken a liking to spraying anyone that came close to his ride.

“Yo Min, I love what you did with the brakes!” Jisung points and yells to him, twirling and fumbling a ratchet wrench as he runs into the garage, kneeling to meet Seungmin who slides out from under someone’s car on a skateboard.

“What did you do to them?” You ask, cocking your head to the side and crossing your arms.

“Oh, I painted them red to match,” he says nonchalantly, the only sign of something strange being the pink dusting his cheeks.

“Match…match what? There’s no red on your car-”

No, but your whole car is red.

A slow smile spreads across your face as you walk around the hood of the car, and Minho only looks up at you right before you lean in and plant a kiss on his cheek. He smiles as you step back, sighing and admiring your teamwork.

The 1993 Toyota MR2 glistens in the late afternoon sun, not a single scratch or scuff mark streaking the ebony shell. Minho doesn’t think the car has been this clean since he first got the keys.

“You nervous at all?”

“Me? Nervous?” He scoffs and waves you off, and then worry creases his features as he drops the act. “...a little. We haven’t made it this far in years.”

“Yeah, but…” you say, pulling him in to wrap your arms around his half-soaked waist, “for the best racer in the city, I think it’s manageable.”

“Laying it on thick, are we?”

“Better take advantage of it while you can,” you giggle, and he rolls his eyes before leaning down.

Suddenly, a set of loud engines cut into the air as they fly around the block corner, cars rumbling and thundering as they slow down and approach Changbin’s house. A modified black vintage Mustang jerks to a stop in the driveway, and then the door flies open, a slender man with long skunk-stripe hair stepping out onto the hot pavement. A leather jacket with the word Guerillaz across the back sits draped on his shoulders as he closes the car door behind him, and other men start leaving their respective cars.

“Whoa whoa whoa, what did I miss?” The man says, tilting down his sunglasses and smirking at the two of you, still holding each other. You take the hose from Minho and aim it at him, spraying a stream of water and sending him into a fit of shrieks as he holds up his team jacket as a shield.

“Look what the scaredy cat dragged in,” Changbin taunts from the garage, before ditching his work gloves and crossing the lawn to meet the unexpected intruder.

Wooyoung catches Changbin in a hug, elated to see his old teammate after so long.

He used to be a part of the Wolfgang racing club before he moved up the coast to Sacramento– but since he couldn’t keep his hands away from the wheel, he ended up making his own club, one that ended up driving back down to team with Wolfgang to win the Kingdom Cup a year later.

They only come back down twice a year; once for the Christmas car show, and again in the summer for the Golden Tire Cup Championship. 

Wooyoung lets go of him, nodding towards Minho as he takes off his sunglasses.

“Semifinals, huh?” He says, looking at him in awe. “You must have gotten a lot better since I last saw you.”

“My teacher was alright,” he sighs and shrugs, and you spray his face and walk off, leaving him dripping wet in favor of going to find Yeji.

“Now that, I did not see coming,” San whispers, dapping up Hyunjin as he approaches the latter’s Supra, now painted red to match his hair. “The last time I saw them, they hated each other.”

“Wouldn’t you feel the same way if you met your match?” Ryujin pipes up from the ground, tightening the nut on a wheel. “They both thought they were the best before Minho won Changbin’s car.”

“Minho did what?” He asks, eyes turning to saucers.

“Dude, let me tell you about what happened last summer…”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧ ♫- Hall of Fame ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

Night is falling in the desert, but it’s never looked more awake.

Rows upon rows of cars line up on the dry earth, and photographers and gearheads alike gawk at the automobiles, snapping endless amounts of pictures and videos with their devices. 

Further down the track a stage is set up, with some DJ working a growing crowd as they sip on whatever they can get their hands on.

You’re at the edge of the car show with Yeji, helping her ward off condescending men with boring car questions. Surely they must know that car enthusiasts don’t all have to be male.

Another one saunters up to the two of you, sizing you up with a stare that lingers just a little too long at your exposed midriff.

“And this is your car?” he asks, and in favor of keeping your team from being disqualified, you keep your arms folded tight against your chest.

“Yes, it’s-” Yeji stops you with a raised hand, looking up from inspecting her manicure and staring him dead in the eyes.

“It’s my 608 horsepower V8 engine 2015 Porsche 918 Spyder, why do you ask?” She asks sweetly, smiling and batting her eyelashes at him. He narrows his eyes and reluctantly walks away, realizing this wasn’t a fight he could win.

“Nice one,” you chuckle, right as your phone rings in your team jacket. You check the time and answer it, noting that it’s just after 8 pm before speaking.

“Hello?”

“Your boyfriend says to ‘get your ass over here’. The race is about to start,” Lia says, half drowned out by the crowd you’re sure is swarming there by now. You look at Yeji, who waves you off with a shake of her head.

“I think I can fend for myself,” she whispers, and you nod in response.

“I’ll be there in two minutes.”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

You hear bets being made and taunts being thrown as you push your way through the crowd, making your way to the start of the track. Four cars of different makes, models, and colors sit at the starting line, with members of their respective teams standing near each one, buzzing with anticipation.

After showing the back of your jacket you get let onto the track, where at least half of your gang circles Minho, giving him some last words of advice and encouragement.

“Remember, the gas is on the right and the brakes are on the left,” Felix jokes.

“Oh oh, and your seatbelt,” Jeongin joins in, egging him on, “don’t wanna break the law, now do we?”

“Alright alright, knock it off you two,” Changbin laughs, then looks to the team’s resident mechanic.

Chan is silent for a moment, then puts a hand on Minho’s shoulder.

“You’ve got this,” he says quietly, and the team nods in agreement. “Be safe.”

You push your way into the circle, and Chan smiles at you before gesturing to everyone else.

“Let’s give them some space, yeah?” he says, and the group disperses, wishing safety and slapping Minho on the back before exiting the track.

The man of the hour turns to you as you step up to him, the shouts of the crowd fading into the background as you meet his eyes.

“How are you doing,” you whisper, flicking some sand off of his team jacket. He looks out at the crowd, drawing in a deep breath before looking down at you again.

“I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Of losing,” he admits, running a hand through his black locks. “I don’t want to let everyone down, we’ve come so far-”

“Because of you, Minho,” you interrupt, pushing a pointed finger against his chest. “We only got this far because of you. We’ll be proud no matter what trophy you take home.”

The creases in his forehead ease at your words, and you take his gloved hand into yours.

“You’re not here to be the best; we already know you are,” you remind him, smiling. “You’re here to have fun. Winning would just be a nice bonus.”

“Oh yeah? And what happens if I win?” He grins, pulling your hand a bit closer as you chuckle at his forwardness.

“I can think of a couple things-”

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WELCOME TO THE TENTH ANNUAL GOLDEN TIRE CUP SEMIFINALS!”

The voice of the announcer booms over the speakers as a tall man with a silver microphone enters the track. You quickly leave a kiss against Minho’s cheek, then lean over to his ear.

“Come back to me in one piece,” you whisper, then squeeze his hand and run off the track. 

“WE HAVE QUITE THE LINEUP FOR YOU TODAY, SO LET'S HEAR IT FOR OUR RACERS!”

The crowd erupts into cheers as each racer stands in front of their car, awaiting their introduction.

“FROM THE P1ECE PEDAL PUSHERS, HWANG INTAK!”

A guy with curly brown hair waves at the crowd, blowing kisses and causing several girls pushed up against the barricade to faint.

“FROM THE BLUE FLAMES, NAKAMURA KAZUHA!”

A Japanese chick with sick looking sunglasses does a small curtsy, and you scream along with the crowd, always excited to see other women excited about racing.

“FROM THE NEVER CRASHING TIRES, LEE JENO!”

A guy with snow white hair spells out his team’s acronym with his hands before waving, and you can hear his team start chanting from down the track.

“AND LAST BUT CERTAINLY NOT LEAST, FROM THE WOLFGANG, LEE MINHO!”

You and the gang howl as loud as you can as Minho turns around and points to his back, showing off the detailed wolf design on the back of his team leather jacket.

The four racers shake hands with each other before each getting into their cars, waving one last time at the crowd before shutting the doors.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧ ♫- Turn Back Time ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

If Minho really thinks about it, all races are the same.

The announcer had gone over the rules, and despite this not being his first race by a long shot, he assumes that anyone would have been able to guess them.

Three laps around the track.

No shortcuts.

Start at the sound of the gun.

Unlike NASCAR, foul play technically is allowed, but none of the teams that made it to the semifinals made it by playing dirty. It felt too much like cheating. That, and no one wanted to scratch their nice cars for a trophy if they didn’t have to.

Minho grips the wheel and closes his eyes as a girl wearing next to nothing struts out to the middle of the track, holding an air gun in her gloved hand.

Slowly, the sounds of the crowd roaring and his opponents cheekily revving their engines fade into the background, the world around him becoming more still as he goes to his happy place.

He opens his eyes again and he’s back, back in the passenger seat with you holding the steering wheel.

“What are you waiting for?” you say, giving him an annoyed side eye.

“Aren’t you going to tell me when to go?” 

“Okay, go.”

“What-”

BANG!

“Go!”

Minho breaks out of his reverie and floors it, the racers doing the same as the crowd screams in delight.

“AND THEY’RE OFF!” The announcer booms, standing in a tower on the other side of the starting line as a black haired girl next to him waves a giant checkered flag. The cars zoom forward, getting smaller and smaller as they tear down the track. A tiny drone follows them, becoming a tiny red light flashing in the distance.

Minho grins, falling into the rhythm of upshifting like it’s an old song he loves.

The P1ECE’s car takes the lead, narrowly cutting corners while NCT’s car stays hot on its trail, not letting it get a lead. The Wolfgang’s car gives them their space as Blue Flame’s car stays next to it, hugging the inside of every curve. 

One lap down, and Minho is cruising in third place as the cars zip past the finish line.

“IT REALLY IS ANYONE’S GAME FOLKS…”

Silently, you say a prayer as the cars disappear from view, the crowd going insane around you and your gang.

Inside the car, Minho is having a ball, treating the desert track as his own personal time trial as he and the others burn rubber, trading places around every turn. 

He lets Kazuha’s car pass him as he eases up on the gas, enough to let her gain a small lead.

“What is he doing?!” An angry man yells, gripping onto the barrier as the cars fly past the start again, signaling the final lap. You assume he has money on the line as you smirk, knowing Minho’s real strategy.

“THERE GO THE RACERS AND- HOLD UP- LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, DO WE HAVE A DRIFT RACER?!”

The crowd becomes uncontrollable as they hear the announcer, seeing a small cloud of smoke go up from the edge of the track as Minho drifts around the first turn, not slowing down.

“That’s my boyfriend!” You point and scream, barely keeping yourself behind the barrier.

Minho spins the wheel left and right, howling inside of his car as it slides around every curve, leaving a smoky trail behind it. Threatened, the other racers speed up, attempting to widen the gap between him and them, but he’s gaining ground way too quickly.

He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face if he wanted to. He’s having too much fun.

He hardly realizes there’s only thirty seconds left between him and the GT Cup Finale.

And then, on the final turn, the unthinkable happens.

Jeno’s car pulls away as something under Kazuha’s car explodes, and then starts smoking.

Minho watches as her car drifts into Intak’s, making them both turn sideways and start to block the inside of the turn. 

Heart dropping, he realizes he won’t be able to clear the turn.

“Are you not going to slow down?!” He yells, frightened at the calmness in your voice.

“Why would I do that-”

“To keep us ALIVE?!” He screams, grabbing onto the middle console. “Because that’s how you handle turns?!”

No.

“This is how you handle a turn,” Minho whispers, and then taps on the break and spins his steering wheel to the right.

Up ahead, you feel yourself going lightheaded as you see the smoke start to build, blocking the rest of the track from view. Only the neon green NCT car was visible, blazing towards the finish line.

Next to you, Hyunjin goes pale, and you grip onto his arm, more to steady yourself than to comfort him as the crowd collectively holds their breath.

And then, the crowd explodes into cheers.

“RUN ME OVER AND CALL ME DINNER- WOLFGANG MAKES IT AROUND THE FINAL TURN!”

Minho flies around the corner, tires skidding against the ground while the car drifts before he steps on the gas again, emerging from the smoke. You scream, nearly shaking Hyunjin to death as you grip onto his jacket and watch the MR2 draw near to the finish line.

The girl next to the announcer wildly waves her checkered flag as the NCT car crosses the finish line, followed two seconds later by the Wolfgang car, before they both screech to a halt.

Minho throws the door open, nearly tripping over himself as he strains to see down the other end of the track, followed by Jeno.

A hush falls over the crowd as they wait in near silence, hoping to see anything other than smoke emerging from the two cars that fell behind.

In the red haze from their tail lights, one figure emerges.

Kazuha’s thumb shoots up from her body, carried in Intak’s arms as he walks them both towards the starting line.

“THEY’RE OKAY!” The announcer cheers, nearly dropping his binoculars as the crowd joins him.

Relieved, Minho's eyes search for yours before locking on them, barely having any time to react as you sprint across the track, and subsequently crash into him. The rest of the gang hops the barrier, whooping and hollering as they celebrate their finalist.

“I knew it, I knew you could do it,” you nearly sob, clutching onto his jacket.

“You saved my life,” he shudders, holding your shoulders tightly. “I would have crashed into them if you never taught me to drift.”

You don’t hesitate; you can’t. You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him in for the kiss he should have gotten before the race.

The crowd screams as he picks you up and spins the two of you, not caring one bit about who’s looking as he returns your embrace in earnest, smiling against your lips.

“GET A ROOM, WILL YOU?” The announcer laughs, walking up to the two of you and dragging Jeno with him. Minho chuckles and puts you down, and you catch a glimpse of the announcer’s mic, spelling Soobin in sparkly silver letters.

“EVERYONE, OUR GOLDEN TIRE CHAMPIONSHIP FINALISTS!” 

Soobin takes Minho’s arm and raises it along with Jeno’s, and the crowd goes wild.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧ ♫- Be Free ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

slowlee: come to the kitchen rq

You read the text and swipe away the notification, slipping the phone back into your jacket pocket.

“Glad to hear that no one got seriously injured,” the man you were talking to says, stepping back onto his motorbike. “Typically for people like us, crashes end up being way less epic.”

“Well I'm glad you haven't gotten into any,” you jest, waving to him and his crew before they roll off the driveway, their silver hexagonal logos glinting off their jackets in the moonlight.

You turn and walk back up to Changbin’s house, alive and overflowing with guests as the afterparty is in full swing.

Making your way through the crowded house, you dap up Hongjoong and a tipsy Mingi, do a shot with Chaeryeong and Yuna, and slide into the kitchen right as Minho picks up a brown bottle, instantly meeting your gaze.

“EVERYONE!” Minho yells, pouring a shot of whiskey into his cup before pulling you to his side. You try and fail to keep a grin from landing on your face.

“I’d like to make a toast,” he announces, surveying the room of members and supporters turning to face him and grinning. “To this team, for making it to the finals after four years!”

Whoops and whistles fly around the room.

“To Changbin, for helping me keep his old car in top condition so I don’t die on the road!”

A crazy sounding laugh comes from the man holding baby Chun Ja, complete with a mini racer jacket and red binkie.

“And to the rightful owner of his car,” he lowers his voice, face softening as he looks down at you.

“Minho,” you whisper, eyes widening as you stare up at him in shock.

“I want them to know,” he whispers back, hand squeezing your waist.

“For beating my ass by seven seconds in our duel last year,” he continues, and you watch as several members around the room blink and look at each other in confusion. Yeji and Hyunjin’s eyebrows shoot up simultaneously, and your best friend’s eyes meet yours, equally shocked. “And teaching me that there’s no point in being the best, if you’re not having fun with it.”

The room erupts into cheers as Minho raises his solo cup, and everyone follows suit, cups rising all around the kitchen. “Next stop, the Golden Tire Cup Finals!”

“Shit, I’ll drink to that,” Wooyoung laughs, before everyone throws their shots back.

As the party quickly resumes, you’re swarmed by some of the girls in the gang, bombarded with questions about the legendary duel that decided the fate of the club’s leader. Amongst the chaos, you lock eyes with Minho, who’s getting slapped on the back by Hyunjin while some other members tease him.

He mouths three words to you, and you swear you feel your whole soul light on fire.

You giggle, flaming red as you mouth them back.

I love you too.

After all, you should have known that after acquiring your heart, there’s only one thing he could do.

Burn it.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

Burn It

a lixiesfreckles_ production

cast(in order of appearance)

Lee Minho as the finalist

Han Jisung as the baby mechanic

Kim Seungmin as the only one working

Jung Wooyoung as the old teammate

Seo Changbin as the host

Choi San as the one that's figuratively late to the party

Hwang Hyunjin as the drama

Shin Ryujin as the pit crew

Hwang Yeji as the one who knows her shit

Lia as the messenger

Lee Felix as thing 1

Yang Jeongin as thing 2

Bang Chan as the experienced mechanic

Choi Soobin as the mc

Hwang Intak as the heartthrob hero

Nakamura Kazuha as the victim

Lee Jeno as the neo one

Kim Hongjoong as the designated driver

Song Mingi as the passenger princess

Lee Chaeryeong as party girl 1

Shin Yuna as party girl 2

dedicated to everyone who read Punch It and demanded a book afterwards. it's never gonna happen, but the flattery stayed with me.

do not copy or repost. all rights reserved.

[orions-tears]

Lost and Found

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’ve been missing Sebastian since he left at the end of your Fifth year and you finally decide to find him.

Themes: Bit of angst, bit of fluff and a bit of romance if you will

A/N: This is my first fic so be gentle please haha. Shout out to my friend for being my beta reader. If somehow this blows up and is actually good I’m open to requests!

The Dark Arts seem harmless until it’s too late. What Ominis had said to you and Sebastian repeated in your head over and over again. You haven’t seen Sebastian since meeting him in the Undercroft at the end of the year. Ominis has been quiet since he left and it hurts to see him so distraught. It hurts to not see Sebastian everywhere you go. As much as you wanted to help Sebastian, this isn’t how you thought it’d end up, despite Ominis’ warnings. Sitting in the Transfigurations Courtyard staring at the statue of heartbreak, you finally understand the true meaning of it. The pain of losing the one person that meant the most to you. Ominis is a great friend but Sebastian...Oh Sebastian. You’d grown completely attached to the wizard over the year and only realized how you felt in the catacombs. The pain on his face when Anne attacked him was something you never wanted to see again.

 Maybe he’s in Feldcroft. Maybe he’s still around. You finally get up the courage to hop on your broom and fly to Feldcroft, hoping to Merlin he’s there. When you arrive, the town is quiet. The few residents mill about but no sign of Sebastian. Slowly, you walk to his cottage, praying he’s inside. Praying he’s safe. When you open the door it’s dark except for a small candle in the far corner. You hear someone stand up quickly and you look over to see Sebastian, tired and distraught. “Oh (Y/N) it’s you...I thought maybe...” he says softly, looking down at a letter he had sent to Anne about Professor Sharp. You walk over and stand next to the bed he’s sitting on, looking down at him sadly. “Sebastian...thank Merlin you’re alright I’ve been hoping to find you again.” He shakes his head and stands up, walking to the main room. “Sebastian please. Talk to me. I want to help,” you say, following him. “I have to find her. She needs me.” he says, repeating what he had told you in the Undercroft. You walk up to him and grab him by the arm. When he looks up at you, you can see the pain in his eyes. “Please, Sebastian. She needs time, you know this. Let’s do something, just you and me.” He looks at you for a few seconds and sighs, nodding in agreement. You gently take the letter from him and set it down on the table, guiding him outside. “Let’s go to Hogsmede. We can go to Honeydukes and Zonko’s. Just think, we might even see some hippogriffs on the way,” you say lightly, holding onto his arm. He laughs lightly and looks at you softly. “Maybe we will...certainly don’t see that everyday.”

 When you finally arrive in Hogsmede you look at Sebastian and see he’s perked up at bit. “Where to first?” you ask, walking backwards to look at him. “I’m a bit peckish so how about Honeydukes?” You nod, smiling wide and continue to walk backwards so you can watch him. “If you keep doing that you’ll fall and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to catch you,” he says playfully. “Then you’ll just have to take me home and nurse me back to health when I’m inevitably injured.” You laugh as you continue on and suddenly catch an uneven stone in the street. You let out a small yelp as you fall backwards, trying, and failing to regain your balance. Before you feel the harsh impact of the stones beneath you, Sebastian grabs you, but it’s not enough and you both fall to the ground.

 You look up at him as he kneels over you looking worried. “Are you alright, (Y/N)?” he almost yells as he feels you for any injury. You begin to laugh as you say, “I thought you couldn’t catch me!” He stares at you for a few seconds, surprised at your response, but laughs when he finally accepts that you aren’t hurt. “Well, I told you the truth. I didn’t catch you.” He stands and pulls you up, wiping dust off your robe. “We should keep going but maybe I need to hold onto you to keep you safe,” he jokes as he grabs your hand. You stare at him for a second and look down at your conjoined hands. You look back at him and he turns red, letting go. “Sorry,” he says quickly, “I’m not sure what I was thinking with that.” He turns from you and continues up the street to Honeydukes. You catch up to him and grab his hand again. “I missed you, Sebastian.” you say quietly, looking at your hands. “I didn’t realize...how much I needed you...until you were gone.” He stares at you sadly and takes your face in his free hand, bringing your head up to look at him. “(Y/N), I never forgot you and it hurt to leave you like that. Do you remember the last thing I told you?” You think back to that day. He had said no matter what happens, I’m glad we met. That line stuck with you, even now. “I do, Sebastian.” He turned away and looked down at his feet, kicking at small pebbles in the cobblestone. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you after everything that happened...” You look up at him, puzzled. What on earth was he talking about? He looks back at you, worried, and takes in a deep breath. “I’m still not sure if it’s the right time but we’re here and I can’t hide secrets from you anymore.” You tilt your head a bit, furrowing your brow. “Sebastian, you know you can tell me anything.” He nods and looks around. “You’ve been by my side ever since you arrived at Hogwarts. And you’ve stuck by me through everything. Having you with me meant the world to me. You mean the world to me.” He looks down at his hands, a bit nervous. “Sebastian-” “I love you” he declares, interrupting your sentence. You stare at him for what feels like ages and smile. “Sebastian...” You jump towards him and kiss him. It takes him a second, but he wraps his arms around you, finally kissing back.

 After a moment, the two of you part, slightly out of breath. You smile up at him as he grabs your hands. “Time for Honeydukes, I think. We’ll get you some Fizzing Wizzbees.” You nod and start towards the candy shop. “Maybe we can get some caramel cobwebs for Ominis.” Sebastian smiles softly at you, trailing slightly behind as you walk towards Honeydukes, watching you the whole way.

[scarletsaphire]

Dani and Danny return to Amity Park after a long time away, one last time.

--

This is my first fic for @phicphight, done for @ashseadreamer's prompt: They lay side by side on a blanket, fingers intertwined as they whispered dreams into the night. The fireflies look like falling stars-- beautiful, mesmerizing, and sad.

I hope you enjoy!

"Oh thank the Ancients!" Dani called out the moment the run down, faded "Welcome to Amity Park" sign appeared in their line of sight. "It feels like we've been flying forever!"

"It does feel like its been a long time, hasn't it," Danny replied. "It's nice to be back home."

Dani laughed. "I know. I still think we should've stayed in Taiwan."

"Yeah, well, you lost at rock paper scissors, so there." Danny stuck his tongue out at her, and Dani returned the gesture. It wasn't long before they both devolved into giggles.

After the two of them regained their composure, Danny spoke again. "C'mon, we've got a few hours to kill before sundown. What do you want to do first?"

Dani hummed thoughtfully. "Do you think the Nasty Burger milkshake machine is still running?"

"There's only one way to know for sure."

There was, unsurprisingly, nobody working, but one look at the machine, wrapped in bright yellow caution tape, told the half ghosts exactly what they needed to know. Much more surprisingly was the bundle of french fries, tucked in the very back corner of the freezer and next to some nasty sauce.

"Oh, there's no way that's any good," Danny said as Dani pulled the bag out.

"It's not like it can kill us any more," Dani pointed out as she opened the bag. "Besides. It's better than nothing, right?"

"Fair point."

The two ate the fries on the rooftop of the building. They definitely didn't taste as good as Danny remembered them being, but he blamed it on the fact that they were cold. At least they were still edible. Technically.

Dani belched, the sound echoing through the quiet streets of Amity Park. "That hit the spot."

All Danny did in reply was nod. At his silence, Dani turned to face him. "What's wrong?"

Danny shrugged. "You know. Same old, same old."

Dani leaned back on her hands, staring up at the sky. The sun burnt an angry red, low in the sky. It would've hurt her eyes, if she'd been human. "Yeah, I know." She tilted her head to the side, so that it rested on Danny's shoulder. "I can't imagine how weird this all is."

She felt the ice chill of his breath on her head. "It's... something, alright." He lifted his arms, pushing Dani's head off, and floated to his feet. "But we're not going to waste our time feeling sorry for me, okay? We only have..." He glanced down at his wrist, where a sleek watch sat. "An hour and a half. So, what do you want to do? We can check out the park, or maybe those sewer rat ghosts you befriended a while ago?"

Dani narrowed her eyes at him, the same expression he made whenever he was thinking. "Fentonworks. I think we should check out Fentonworks."

Dani did not miss the way Danny stiffened, or the single, sudden swallow, but his demeanor shifted back to casual not even a whole second later. "Sure. Let's go."

--

The halls of Fentonworks were never quiet. When Danny had been little, they were filled with the noises of two small children running around, getting up to all sorts of mischief. One of his earliest memories was of himself running through the halls on tiny little toddler legs, Jazz in hot pursuit and his mother not far behind.

When they'd outgrown those kinds of games, other sounds filled the void. Jazz's tuba practice from when she played in middle school faded into Danny listening to Dumpty Humpty with Sam and Tucker faded into alarm sounds for ghost attacks and phone calls about Danny's academic performance.

No matter how those noises changed, one sound remained consistent; the sound of metal and electricity and machinery. Sometimes it was loud enough to drown everything else out, and sometimes it was nothing more than the persistent hum emanating from the walls, so quiet and routine that Danny only ever noticed it was there when it wasn't.

Coming back to that familiar hum felt right, even if he wasn't pleased to admit it.

The hum of the portal underneath his feet, still as strong as the day he'd turned it on, vibrated in time with his core, with his bones, and he felt a bit like he was slotting back into place, like a puzzle getting completed.

It was nice to feel it again, after so long.

Danny ran his hand along the shelf in the living room, his gloved hand coming back coated with dust. Without a second thought, he turned and blew the debris into Dani's face.

She sneezed, shooting herself up into the air a good foot, before floating back down to ground level. "Hey!" she shouted. "What was that for?"

Danny laughed and danced out of the way of her lunge. It was clumsy; he didn't know if she was thrown off from the dust, or everything else. "Revenge."

"But I didn't do anything!"

"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that." Danny turned away, floating down the hallway. "Come on. Help me find a duster or something."

"But why? You've never cared about dusting before."

Danny shrugged. "Better now than never, right?"

Dani fell quiet behind him, but he didn't mind. He'd made it to the closet, and was busy searching for the aforementioned feather duster. The closet was filled to the brim with old junk; boxes of rusty spare parts, bits and bobs that would've been useless even if they were brand new, and cardboard boxes that looked more like flat pieces of cardboard after sitting under everything else for so long. No duster, or even something that could be used as one in a pinch.

He laid eyes on it after floating up to the top shelf, phasing through the boxes of board games so faded or covered in dust that their names were illegible. The blanket was folded neatly in the far back corner, and sparkled ever so slightly in Danny's natural green glow. He pulled it out without a second thought.

"Not a duster, but I guess if you're set on this idea," Dani started before Danny cut her off with a look.

The blanket was tiny and the years spent in the closet hadn't been kind to it; there were holes in the sides and center from where a moth had gotten to it, but Danny could still tell what it was.

"Do you recognize this at all?" he asked.

Dani narrowed her eyes for a moment, studying the worn fabric, before shaking her head. "Might not have gotten those memories."

"Yeah, well, I'm not too surprised," Danny said. "But this was my favorite blanket when I was a kid. I think Mom had to pry this out of my hands when i was in kindergarten, and even then I would try and sneak it into my backpack every day before the bus came."

He ran his fingers over the fabric. The edges, which had been lined with a soft silk, were still shiny, if not as reflective as he remembered them being, and the swirling pattern of pastel blues, oranges, and purples in the middle had muddied together into a faded mess. He folded it back up as neatly as he could before shoving it into his side.

"Are we using it for dusting after all?" Dani questioned.

"Of course not."

"Then why...?"

Danny didn't have a good answer, but he hadn't spent so long trash talking other ghosts to not be a quick thinker. "It might be nice to have. For later."

Dani nodded slowly. "Does this mean we're giving up on the feather duster dream? Because I'll be honest, that's not what I had in mind when I said we should come here."

"Oh?" Danny asked, flooding his voice with fake innocence. "And what did you have in mind?"

Dani opened her mouth before closing it again. "Fine. Dusting it is!"

They left Fentonworks an hour later. It wasn't perfect, but it was a lot closer to how Danny remembered it.

--

"I think this is the spot," Dani said, her hand shielding her eyes.

"Looks right to me," Danny agreed. Dani had started to lower herself to the ground before his hand on her shoulder stopped her. With a mischievous grin, he pulled the blanket out from his side and laid it out on the ground with a flourish.

"Told you it'd be useful," he said.

Dani didn't have it in her to argue.

The two of them laid down next to each other, arm pressed against arm, both pairs of eyes trained on the sky. Despite the time, it wasn't dark. Small lights danced in the sky, spinning and swirling amidst the stars.

"I didn't expect them to be so beautiful..." Dani whispered, near reverentially.

"Neither did I." Danny's tone matched hers.

"It's hard to believe they're-"

"Fireflies."

Dani spared one glance over at Danny, whose eyes remained trained on the sky. "Fireflies?"

"It's hard to believe they're fireflies," Danny repeated.

Dani shifted her eyes back to the sky. "Right. Fireflies."

She felt the blanket shift as Danny nodded his head. "We're just two cousins, watching the fireflies, on a warm summer evening."

"Just two cousins," Dani agreed. "And tomorrow, we're going to sneak into the movies, and we're going to watch the goriest, nastiest, R-rated movie we can get into."

Danny laughed, but it blended into the soft buzz that filled the air. "Yeah. And we're going to buy enough candy and popcorn and slushies to make us sick."

"Make you sick, maybe. I'm made of stronger stuff."

"If you say so,” Danny said with a roll of his eyes. 

Dani kept talking to fill the silence, even as the buzzing noise got louder. “After the movies, we're going to come back here. To the park."

"Yeah?"

It was Dani's turn to nod. "We're gonna play hide and seek."

"Whose gonna hide?"

"You will. Obviously. Because you were too weak to keep down the snacks."

"Oh, so you're going to send me on a wild goose chase through the woods?"

"We need to build your endurance for next time."

She heard Danny's sharp inhale next to her, followed by a deep cough. The scent of smoke filled Dani's nose, but she didn't need to breathe, so she didn't let it bother her. The fireflies danced in the air above her, so much brighter and closer than they were before.

When Danny had cleared the soot out of his lungs, he answered. "Next time. Right."

Dani's eyes burnt. She wanted to close them against the smoke and the angry, searing light, but she couldn't. She couldn't look away from the lights on the sky, falling ever closer. For a moment, she tore her eyes away to look at Danny's face. Tears streamed down his cheeks openly, and she wasn't sure whether it was from the air or his feelings. She reached out the few inches to Danny's hand, intertwining her fingers with hers.

"You don't have to watch," she whispered. The buzzing sound had gotten louder, changing to a whooshing that almost drowned at her words.

"You know I have to," Danny answered just as quietly. "This is my home. I can't just-" He paused for a moment. "Someone needs to see this." He pulled his hand away from hers to wipe away the tears. "I promised not to waste the time feel sorry for myself, and here I am."

Dani didn't answer. She didn't have anything to say that she hadn't said a dozen times over, through theirs hours of planning this day. She'd tried to talk him out of it, originally. She didn't see the reason they needed to be here, didn't think it was a good idea, but Danny had been insistent. Dani could understand that, at least. Amity Park had always been his home, not hers. Earth had always been his home.

It made sense he'd want to say goodbye.

The lights in the sky were closer now, close enough that the air was hot, and her watery eyes made them blur and elongate. The whooshing was louder now, so loud that she couldn't hear anything else.

The sound of the first meteor crashing was deafening, even with it being nearly a mile away. The ground shook beneath her back, and Dani couldn’t keep her eyes open against the searing heat anymore.

The world froze in an instant. Every sound, every motion, even the temperature in the air. 

Their time was up.

Dani opened her eyes, grateful to see the swirling green portal covering her view of the sky. Clockwork floated on the mouth of the portal, perpendicular to them. His face was customarily stoic, and his gaze was focused on Danny, who seemed to be staring straight through him.

"It's time to go," she said quietly. Her words shook Danny out of his trance, and he nodded stiffly before floating to his feet.

They'd made it most of the way to the portal before he turned around and hurried back to where they'd been laying, gathering the blanket back up in his arms once more, and returning to Dani's side. He mumbled something under his breath that Dani couldn't figure out, before walking through the portal. He didn't look back.

Dani did. It was a terrible sight, the world burning around her. She took one final deep breath, even though the smoke burned her nose, before stepping to the other side of the portal. It was time to say goodbye.

Their final goodbye to their dying world.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Caught In A Web ~ 2

CAUGHT IN A WEB MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,305ish

Summary: Fury tells the team to be on the lookout for a new hero.

Notes: We’re going to pretend that Civil War, Infinity War, and Endgame never happen(ed) in this fic. Okay? Okay.

THREE MONTHS LATER…

“There’s been more sightings of that spider-woman in downtown New York,” Fury stated.

Fury was standing in front of the long conference table in the glass-walled room of the Tower. Tony was on the opposite end, with Steve, Bucky, and Natasha on his right and Sam and Bruce on his left. The rest of the Avengers were out on missions or had taken personal time off, leaving the six of them to deal with Fury. There were holograms playing from a small round object in the center of the table: changing from video clip to video clip of the spider-woman.

“My question to you is what are we going to do about it?” Fury continued.

“Do we need to do anything about it?” Sam questioned. “It seems as if she’s just helping out people in need.”

“It seems that way, but it is clear that she has powers.”

“And what’s the problem with that?” Asked Steve.

“The problem, Rogers, is that we don’t know exactly what this spider-woman’s powers entail. We need to find her and bring her in for an evaluation.”

Tony scoffed. “You just want another super-powered human on the roster.”

“What I want is to make sure that we’re all on the same side here. And I hope that’s something that you all can get behind.”

“How exactly do you want us to bring her in?” Bruce wondered.

“We are in a building full of professional trackers and technology that allows us to make it extremely easy, figure it out.”

~~~

Tony was struggling, not that he would admit that to anyone. Pepper had broken up with him over a year ago and left Stark Industries, leaving him a broken shell of a man and putting him back as CEO of the company. Nothing interested him anymore; working in the lab, the suits, hero work, none of it. So when Fury told the team about bringing in the spider-woman, he really didn’t care about it. The person wasn’t doing any harm and actually helping the heroes with their job.

To try to help Tony get his mind off his troubles and maybe find this new hero, he decided to go out flying that night. He took one of his older suit models, only him to reminisce of the good old days. Flying between the skyscrapers allowed Tony to scope out the city to see if there were any signs that the spider-woman was out. Though Tony didn’t actually care, he had FRIDAY gathered all the information on the new hero and had determined that there were more sightings on the weekends than on weekdays. 

“Boss, there was a sighting two blocks east of you,” FRIDAY interrupted Tony’s quiet flight.

“I’m not going unless you’re positive it’s her,” Tony stated, not wanting to put any work in if it wasn’t going to be worth it.

“Pulling up the live street cam footage now.”

On Tony’s helmet screen appear the live feed of you, in a white and black masked suit, tying up a man with spider webs. FRIDAY had already changed the suit’s direction without Tony’s orders. Tony was interested in the situation, noticing how there was a clearly distraught woman against the wall of the alleyway you were in.

“Is there any way we could get some audio, FRI?” Tony wondered.

“I tried, boss,” FRIDAY informed. “Unfortunately, the audio is unavailable.”

“Park the suit around the corner or on the roof of a building. I want to observe the situation.”

“You got it.”

FRIDAY parked the suit on the edge of a nearby rooftop. Tony looked down on the scene.

“The cops are on their way,” you informed, voice slightly muffled by your mask. “And the two I called don’t particularly like rapists.”

The man you had tied up in a web, tried to speak but you quickly shot a web out of your wrist and covered his mouth.

“I can’t hear you,” you taunted. You turned around and went over to the frightened woman. “Are you alright?” 

“Y—yes,” the woman shuttered as she nodded. “Thank you.”

“Of course. The police should be here any second. They both are understanding women and will get you the help you need.”

“Okay.”

You turned around and shot another web around the man’s ankles and then another at his wrists. “He’s not going anywhere. You’re safe.” You could hear the sirens on their way. “I’ve got to get going.”

“Wait! I don’t even know your name.”

“I don’t have one. And that’s alright. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

You shot a web up at the edge of the roof and swung up onto the roof, disappearing from the view of the alley. Tony, now on the same roof as you, watched as you crouched down and peeked over the edge. You didn’t move as the police showed up and took care of the man and woman. Letting out a sigh of relief, you went to pull off your mask but you stopped yourself when you felt like you were being watched. Looking to the side you realized that Iron Man was staring right at you.

“Impressive,” he complimented through the suit.

“Thanks,” you responded, swallowing nervously. “What brings you around these parts, Iron Man? A little far from your glamorous tower, aren’t you?”

“You are actually the reason I’m out and about tonight.”

“What? Why?”

"You’ve caught our team’s attention and we’ve been tasked to bring you in for evaluation.”

“Really? That’s interesting.”

“Yeah, so if you don’t mind swinging over to the tower, that would be great.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“What?”

“I’m not interested in being a part of your team. I really only do this as a hobby. Besides, your team doesn’t solve the little everyday problems that need to be taken care of. Someone’s got to help with those.”

“And you think you’re the one to do that?”

“Well, you clearly aren’t.”

Tony smirked inside the helmet, secretly enjoying the banter the two of you were getting into.

“Now,” you continued, “if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got more people to take care of.”

“Hold up,” Tony took a step toward you. “You aren’t going anywhere but with me to the tower.”

“No thanks.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice.”

“Yeah,” you shook your head, “I’m not so sure about that.”

You jumped up, doing a flip over Iron Man while tying him up with your webs. You knew that it wouldn’t hold him but you needed time to get away.

“See ya around, Tin Man.” 

Tony could hear the smirk as you spoke before disappearing between two buildings. He was quick to free himself from the webs and try to follow after you. You were already a few blocks away, using the buildings and your webs to swing further. Tony had his suit pick up speed as you turned a corner. Before he could catch up, you threw yourself into your open apartment window. You crawled up onto the ceiling and held yourself there until you heard Iron Man zoom past you. 

When you felt safe, you dropped yourself onto your bed and tore off your mask.

“That was a close one,” you breathed out.

~~~

Tony searched all night for a sign of you. Even with FRIDAY’s help, he couldn’t find you. He went back to the tower with nothing but that little interaction with you and a few webs still stuck to his suit. He immediately threw himself into his lab to study the webs. Tony was now fighting the urge to find you, not because of Fury but because he wanted to actually get to know you. To him, there was an undeniable connection as the two of you spoke. He was going to find you, whatever it took.

next chapter >

TAGLIST IS CLOSED - Taglist Information

[bteezxyewriter12]

My Everything

Pairing- Jin x Named Reader

Word count- 4.1k

Includes- Includes- heavy themes, car accident, recovery, mental recovery, derogatory hate, character death

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @marvelfamily3000 @amyz78 @blueie-things

Gif Credit- scokjinkim

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝BTS Masterlist 📝Jin Masterlist

Jin POV

“Hello Mr. Kim”, the receptionist says as I sign my name in the log

“Hello Mrs. Kang”, I answer

“She’s in her room today. She didn’t want to leave again”

I nod, my heart aching

“Thank you”, I reply

Then going to the elevator, I press the number for her floor

4th floor

The elevator opens and I walk to her room

It’s not good that she doesn’t want to leave her room again

When I get to her room, I open the door

She’s sitting on her bed looking out the window. I walk in slowly but making noise so I don’t scare her

She turns to me and smiles

She’s smiling, that’s a good sign

“Hi Jo”, I say softly

“Hi”

I sit next to her

“How are you today?”

“Uh…um…ok….I uh guess”, she stammers

I nod

It’s the same thing she says everyday

Her arm twitches on it’s own, getting my attention

I thought that was getting better

That’s what the nurses told me last time

“Did you eat today?”

“Little bit. Not hungry much”, she answers

“Oh ok”

More silence

“Why you here again?”, she asks

I’m trying so hard not to cry

"To see you baby. I love you”

“I love you too”, she answers

I know she does

I know she remembers that

“Uh Jo, can you tell me my name?”, I ask her

“Yeah silly, it’s…..it’s…..uh…..”, she trails off

She has a look of confusion on her face

“Uh, it’s…it’s…”

“Do you remember your name?”, I ask

“Yes”, she nods, “Joanne….uh….um….Kim. Joanne Kim. You say Jo. And princess.”

She beams at me

At least she knows her name

“Yeah that’s your name princess. But you don’t remember mine?”

“It’s….uh….it’s”, she says frustratingly, “It’s…”

“It’s ok Jo. It’s ok”

“No I know…I know…”, she says starting to cry

Fuck

I don’t want to make her cry

“It’s….it’s….I know it…it’s”

“I’ll help you Jo ok. Don’t cry”

I wipe her tears away

“My name is Jin”, I say

“Jin”, she repeats

God, I miss her saying my name

“Jin….Jin Kim…”, she says

My mouth drops open

Did she really remember my last name?

“I say Jinnie”, she responds again

“Yes Jo. Yeah you always call me Jinnie”, I confirm for her

“You….uh….we…married. You Kim and I Kim”, she says slowly

Oh my god she’s remembering on her own

“Yes baby, we’re married.”

“But….I….stay here. You not here. Why? We have to stay….uh…same place…together?”, she asks

This is the most she’s talked in the seven months she’s been here

“Do you remember what happened to you?”, I ask

She always gets somethings wrong but she’s knows something happened

“Uh accident. Car come….to get you…but I uh..move you? Car hit me”, she answers

“Yes baby. That’s why you have to stay here for now.”

This is new

She never remembered the details before

Just that she was in an accident

A fucking crazy sasaeng tried to hit me because she was upset I was married

I can remember it clearly

A year ago BTS had a fan meet

After the fan meet, I was walking with Joanne back to our apartment

It was a half hour walk but it was a really nice spring day and we decides to walk and maybe shop a little

She and I had been married for two years

We were ridiculously happy

As we crossed a street, I heard someone scream, “If I can’t have Jin, no one will”

Then I saw a car come flying down the street

Coming right at me

I let go of her hand so she can run but instead she pushed me out of the way, the car slamming right into her

I had to watch in horror as she hit the front of the car, crashing into the windshield, then rolling off hitting the ground face first when the car stopped

There was blood everywhere and she wasn’t moving

I ran to her, screaming her name and crying hysterically

The sasaeng got out of the car and ran away

She was bleeding from a huge gash in her head among other horrific injuries

I called an ambulance and they came so fast

She had to go into surgery immediately, as soon as we got to the hospital

I called the guys and they rushed over

The doctors told me that she had bleeding in her brain and her brain swelled

The car shattered her hip and leg when it hit her

She had broken ribs, so many cuts and scrapes

And she was in a coma

They weren’t hopeful she’d ever wake up

They told me that if she did, she would probably never walk again from the extensive amount of damage to her hip and leg

And they said they had no idea how she’d be mentally if she woke up

She was in a coma for two months

I didn’t leave the hospital

I was by her side the entire time

She did wake up though but it was horrible

She didn’t speak, she just looked around terrified

After the doctors checked her out and a few days of testing, they told me how she was

And it wasn’t good

They were right about her not being able to walk

She hasn’t been able to the whole time she’s been in the rehab facility

The doctors and nurses here tried to help her but her legs just don’t work

They try once a month to see if her legs have gotten stronger but so far no

At least for now

They told me she’s has severe damage to her brain that controls memory and speaking

Basically her memory is shotty

She remembers some of her life and our life but some things she doesn’t

The last year has been hard for her with her memory

She forgets simple things like my name or her name which gets her upset

The doctors don’t know why and they don’t know if it’ll ever change

She gets therapy for it to try to strengthen that memory and gain some back but it’s hasn’t had much success

She wasn’t able to talk for months

She had to learn how to talk all over again which is why her speech is all over the place

It’s like when a baby learns to talks

She’s at a four or five year old level of speaking

She can’t read yet, she has to learn to do that again

But she’s able to learn and learn fast

She can think normally and she can understand what is said to her, she just doesn’t have the speech to answer

She developed seizures from the accident as well

When I first saw her have a seizure, I panicked and cried so much

But the people here taught me how to deal with it and what to do when she has one

Right now they’re trying to find which medications and what dose is right for her

She can’t write, hold a pencil or anything like that

Her fine motor skills are bad and she’s getting therapy for it

She can’t wear rings so she has her engagement and wedding ring on a necklace I bought for her

The staff told me she never wants to take it off and she fights them if they try

Her left arm twitches for no reason and they don’t know why

It was bad at first, but recently it has been better

It’s just today I noticed it again

I left BTS until she gets better

Some ARMYS were so nasty about it

They said things I could never imagine saying about someone- that I should leave the “veggie” behind and find someone new; asking me why I’m still with what now is a little girl, telling me I should pull the plug on her

Seriously what the fuck is wrong with people?

Needless to say I lost it

I went on a rampage on vlive, telling everyone to fuck off, that I still love her more than anything, she’s still my wife and I’m not leaving her just because she’s having difficulties now

Then I reminded them that she saved me from being hit by the car

That I could be in her position if she didn’t push me out of the way and I know one hundred percent she would never leave me either

I said I’m taking a break from BTS for as long as I need to, to help her and if they don’t like it they can go fuck themselves

I really don’t care

--------------------------------

“Ji….j…Jin…I tired”, she says to me after a few hours

“Ok princess. You want to sleep?”, I ask

She nods, “But you stay?”

I nod, “Yes Jo, I’ll stay with you”

“You sleep too?”

“Ok Jo, I’ll lay with you”

“Yay”, she claps

I help her lay down, then I lay next to her

“Hug?”, she asks

“Ok”

I hold her in my arms while she snuggles into me

She still loves sleeping together with my arms around her

“I love you Jin”, she says

She sounds just like she used to before the accident and it makes me start crying

“I love you too Jo”

She closes her eyes and I hold her tightly to me

--------------------------------

After about a half an hour, I slowly get up from the bed

I have to see her doctor

I have some stuff I want to give her

I walk out of her room and ask a nurse to call Dr. Jang

A few minutes later, Dr. Jang comes walking down the hall

“Mr. Kim, hello”

I nod at her

“You want to talk in my office?”, she asks

Again I nod

As we walk she asks, “How is Joanne? She was agitated when I saw her this morning. She kept asking for you”

“I know. She gets like this when I don’t come for a day or two”, I answer

I can’t come everyday

I tried talking to her, telling her that she doesn’t have to wait for me in her room

That she can go to the library or the living room or any place

But she still refuses

“She’s asleep now”, I answer

“Yes she still gets tired a lot.”

We get into her office

I sit in front of her desk and she goes to sit behind it

I pull out the stack of papers I brought

“Here’s all the paperwork. I’m now a certified nurse and can legally take care of her as her caretaker. I did all the schooling, all the training for her specific condition. I got everything you suggested I get for her at home. I talked to her therapists and they gave me some things I can do with her at home to help her in between their sessions. I want to take her home”, I say

This was the reason I wasn’t able to come everyday

I went to school and studied the entire year so I could take care of her

They wouldn’t let me take her home since I wasn’t qualified to care for her

I don’t want a nurse to live with us, taking care of her

I want to take care of her

So I made damn sure I can

And now I want her home with me

“Was your house inspected?”, she asks as she looks over the paperwork

“Yes. I had to go get papers yesterday that’s why I didn’t come”

“You do realize what a huge responsibility your taking right? She needs helps with basic things like eating, showers, going to the bathroom, getting dressed?”

Of course I know that

“Yes I know. It’s fine”

“Are you having the therapists come to her or are you going to take her?”

“For now they agreed it’s best for them to come to our house while she gets used to being home. After a few months I’ll take her to them. And yes I know I have to schedule doctor appointments and take her. It’s not a problem”, I answer

“You know her medication and her schedule of when she takes what?”

“You know I do”, I answer, getting a bit annoyed

What the fuck?

She’s my wife of course I know how to take care of her

“It’s very different when you are caring for a family member than a stranger”

“Look, she’s my wife ok? I love her more than anything on this goddamn planet. It’s been killing me to leave her here everyday. She belongs with me. I don’t care what I have to do. I will jump through hoops if it means she can come home.”

Dr. Jang nods, “I understand. I just wanted you to know what you were getting into.”

“I know”

“You do understand that even if she gets close to her old self it will take a long time. You can’t rush the speech, the memory, the fine motor skills, the walking. It has to happen on its own, if it’s ever going to happen”

“I know. Buts she’s becoming her old self little by little. So what if she can’t walk or use her use her hands or talk well. She’s still the same girl I fell in love with. Her personality didn’t change. She’s still Joanne”

Dr. Jang nods, “I’m glad you’re aware”

“She remembered things”, I tell her

Dr. Jang looks up, “What things?”

“She remembered my last name. Not my first. Once I told her Jin, she remembered Kim and that she calls me Jinnie.”

“Really? That’s very good progress”

“She also remembered that we’re married. She asked me why we dont live together if were married. Not in those words but she got her question across. She remembered she had an accident. That a car was coming for me, but she pushed me and it hit her”, I go on

“That is incredible! That is the first real significant memory retention she’s shown so far. Hopefull this means she will be able to recover her short term memory ability. It may never be the same but it can be close”

“I hope so”, I answer

“Well Mr. Kim, it looks like all your paperwork is in order”

“Can I take her home today?”

“It’s not normally how we do things but for this time I’ll make an exception. Yes you can take her home today”

I breath a sigh of relief

I’m getting my baby back

“I’ll have the nurses pack up her things. You can tell her the good news”

“Thank you.”, I say standing up, bowing

Then I leave the office and rush back to her

--------------------------------

I walk back inside her room

She's up

She’s in her wheelchair at the table in her room, eating

She can’t hold a spoon or fork yet

Her grasping skills aren’t that great yet to hold something for so long

So she gets food she can pick up easily with her hands

Everything is cut up for her so she can feed herself

“Hi princess”

She turns to me with an annoyed look

“I wake up….you no here….where you go?”, she demands

Yeah she’s still the same Joanne

“I had to talk to Dr. Jang baby. That’s why I left. But I’m back now ok?”

She sighs, “Fine. Come sit”

Still snarky

Sitting next to her she asks, “Hungry?”

“A little bit”, I answer

“Here”, she picks up some food and holds it to me

I go to take it from her but she says, “No I give Jinnie….like before”

“Before?”, I ask

She nods, “Before car….hurt me”

I’m completely shocked

She remembers when we used to feed each other

We did it all the time

She used to throw food at me and I would try to catch it, she’d offer me food and when I’d go to eat it she’d take it away and eat it

She recovering a lot of lost memories today

“You remember?”

“Yeah”, she says, “It fun”

I’m so happy, she’s getting better Slowly but she is

She feeds me the food, smiling

I take a piece of food and feed it to her

She holds another piece to me but when I go to eat it, she takes it away, giggling

She tries to put it in her mouth but she drops it, her face falling

“It’s ok baby”, I say quickly, “Here princess”

I give her another piece that she eats

She smiles at me

“Kiss”, she asks

Leaning over I kiss her lips gently

When I pull away she says, “I like Jinnie kisses”

“I love your kisses Jo”

She looks at me, tilting her head, smiling

Reaching out she touches my cheek softly

“Beautiful”, she says softly, “World Wide Handsome”

My eyes fill with tears from how happy I am

Putting my hand over hers, I nod, “Yeah Jo. You’re world wide handsome baby, just yours”

“Mine. My Jinnie. My….”, she pauses, “Husband?”

I nod, “Yes”

“My uh love?”, she asks

Tears start falling as I answer, “Yes baby. Yes”

“Why cry?”

“Because I’m happy Jo. I’m happy you remember”

She gets a determined look on her face

“Jinnie…I uh….remember……. in my head but…..I….uh…no….can say. No talk good”

This is the best day I’ve had in a long time

I'm so happy she’s getting better

“I no re..remember name….sometime but….I know…you”, she says, “I know we marry. I know you…love me. I lll…love you Jinnie. Sss….so much. I need uh, um, hhh…help sometime. But I know”

She’s the best

She got hurt and she has trouble talking but she’s taking her time to tell me she loves me

To make me feel better

“You my…everything Jinnie”, she says smiling

“I love you Joanne. More than anything baby. You are my everything, my world.”, I tell her crying

She holds her arms open and I instantly go in them

She wraps her arms around me, holding me close

“No cry Jinnie. I here. I ok. I love you”, she assures me

Burying my face in her neck I hold her tightly trying to stop crying

After a few minutes, I collect myself and pull away from her

“Jo, I have something to talk to you about”

She nods

“Jo, I’m taking you home today”

“Home? Then come back here?”, she asks

“No princess. I’m taking you home to stay. I’m going to take care of you at home.”

“But you in BTS”

I shake my head, “No baby not anymore”

She looks confused, “Why no?”

She actually doesn’t know that I left BTS for now

I haven’t told her

I just wanted her to get better

“I left BTS to stay with you. To help you get better. To go to school so I can take care of you.”, I explain

“But you…uh…love…sing”, she argues

“Joanne, I love you so much more. I don’t care about BTS. I care about you. You are my number one baby. I want to take care of you ok? You belong at home with me. And I’m taking you home”, I say

The smile that bursts in her face takes my breath away

“Jinnie!”, she says excitedly, hugging me hard, “I go home with my…my..my Jinnie”

“Yes baby, with your Jinnie”, I whisper

--------------------------------

“Ready princess?”, I ask

I got all her things packed in the car

Now I just have to sign her out and we can go

“Yeah Jinnie”

I sign her out, then push her wheelchair to the car

Picking her up from her chair, I carry her then put her in the front seat

After helping her buckle her seat belt, I fold her wheelchair and get it in the car

Starting the car, I drive to our house. She reaches for my hand, holding it while I drive

When we get to the house, she gasps

“What this Jinnie?”

Oh shit, I forgot

We lived in an apartment when the accident happened

When I knew I was going to be her caretaker, I bought a house for us

It’s big and it’s all one floor so she doesn’t have to worry about stairs

“It’s our house Jo. I bought it for us to live in. I brought all your stuff from our apartment here.”

She looks at me, tears in her eyes

“Thank you Jinnie”

"Don’t say thank you Jo. I love you more than anything baby. You deserve everything and I’m going to give you anything you want”

“I want….want…you”, she says

“You have me Jo. Always. From the first day I saw you, you had me”

She leans closer and I move to her, kissing her

“You want to see inside?”, I ask

“Yeah!”, she says excited

Picking her up, I carry her into our house and our new life

I couldn’t be happier

🐹🐹🐹🐹🐹🐹🐹🐹🐹🐹

One year later

Jin POV

I can’t breath

I can’t stop crying

Namjoon and Hobi are holding me up as I watch her casket get lowered in the ground

I can’t believe she’s gone

She was fine last week

She was getting so much better with her speech and her motor skills

She was kissing me and telling me she loved me

We were happy

But then she had that seizure

When she stopped seizing, she didn’t move and I knew something was wrong

I kept yelling her name, trying to find her pulse

But it wasn’t there

I drove her to the hospital but it was too late

She announced dead on arrival

And my world ended

I was told that the epilepsy that she developed was the type that causes gran mal seizures

She died from SUDEP, which means the seizure either stopped her breathing or disrupted her heart rhythm

Either way, she was taken from me four days ago

I had to plan her funeral

Now I have to watch her be buried

I can’t handle this

I can’t

I’m breaking inside

I’m a fucking widower at 27 and I can’t handle that

She was my everything

She still is

I planned to be with her until we were old and wrinkled

We were planning to have a baby before the accident

And now she’s gone

I’m never getting married again

I refuse to

I’m only going to ever have one wife

And that’s Joanne Kim

I don’t know how I’m going to go on without her

She was my first love, my only love

And I know she’ll be the last

The cemetery workers start to shovel dirt on her grave

I fall to my knees, the pain inside excruciating

“Jin”, Hobi says

“Just go”, I whisper

“Www…what?”, Namjoon stutters through tears

“Just go. I….I’m not leaving for a long time…I can’t. I can’t leave her here alone. Just go”, I sob

“No Jin, we’ll stay”, Yoongi says

I shake my head, “I need you to go. I want to be with her. I need to be alone”

“Ok Jin. Ok. We’ll be at the dorm. Call us when you get home ok? If you need someone to talk to or someone to stay with you we’re all here ok?”, Namjoon tells me

I only need one person

And she’s never coming home

That thought destroys me and I break down again

“Jin?”, Tae asks

“Ok.”, I choke out

One by one they hug me, offer condolences, then leave

All day, all people said to me was “I’m sorry”

As if that matters

It’s not going to bring her back

Nothing will

I sit there watching her grave fill with dirt, going between crying hysterically and sitting in silence

Once her grave is full and the workers flattened the dirt, they leave

And I get up, walk closer and sit right in front of where her headstone is supposed to go

I already ordered it, they just have to make it

“My princess, I miss you. What am I supposed to do without you? You’re my everything. My life is empty without you baby”, I cry, “Why did you have to go? We we’re so happy baby. You were getting so much better. I hate that you were taken from me. I love you so much”

I know I’m going to be here everyday

Just to be near her

I can’t go back home, I can’t stay there without her

I run my fingers in the dirt, wishing I could hold her hand, wishing she was sitting next to me

I don’t know how I’m going to handle everything

How I’m going to handle life

I just don’t know

But for now I just sit and grieve for the love of my life.

And wish I was with her