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moonbeambucky · 4 years

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Hey Neighbor (Part 2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 3997 Warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of death/loss

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 1 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

A soft knock at pulls you away from the computer. Twisting your stiff head towards the door you smile, seeing Steve Rogers standing with a tray of coffee and a paper bag in hand marked with the logo of your favorite nearby restaurant.

“You’re a lifesaver!” you chuckled, though you meant every word as you invited Steve to sit at your desk for lunch.

Steve worked security for Stark Industries and you developed a close friendship in the years since you’ve been there. Though he was undeniably good looking, with the build of a Greek God and long lashes you were incredibly jealous of, you never saw Steve as anything other than the brother you never had.

At the time you met he was dating a girl from the building, Lillian Nguyen from accounting. You hadn’t seen much of her in person, just through the photos Steve showed you with adoration on his phone. When he began talking about looking for engagement rings you were thrilled but that excitement was replaced with anger and confusion when Steve found out Lillian was cheating on him.

He was extremely hurt and became guarded afterwards, not wanting to put himself out there again. His lack of socializing worked with your lack of a social life and on the rare occasion you had a moment free from school work Steve would often come over and hang out to binge watch shows you needed to catch up to on Netflix while you ate pizza.

The paper bag rustled as he pulled out a large sandwich, cup of soup and a salad, distributing napkins across the desk as he knows how much of a messy eater you can be. You grabbed the sandwich, tearing open the paper wrapping and sinking your teeth into it with a bite full of food too large for your mouth.

Steve laughed, as he stirred the broth of his soup. He’s witnessed you eating before, unapologetically shoveling food into your face especially when you were starving.

“You know the sandwich isn’t goin’ anywhere, right?” he joked.

Chewing a large mouthful, you grabbed a napkin to wipe the corner of your lips that you felt had a piece of food sticking to it.

“Steve,” you paused to take a sip of coffee, “I’m fucking starving. I ran out this morning and all I had here was a package of almonds that are not filling despite what you say.”

He asked the reason for your tardiness and you explained how you stayed at the cafe until closing to finish up your work, all because of your stupid neighbor.

“Have you tried talkin’ to him?”

You stared at Steve incredulously. “Haven’t gotten a chance. I gotta wait for the right moment. There’s no way I’m knocking on his door, not when he’s banging all of New York, who knows what I’d end up seeing.”

“D’ya want me to do it?”

It was in Steve’s nature to help and though you appreciated his offer you wanted to handle this yourself. You were the one that had to live next to the Music Man, it would be better to confront him alone.

“I understand,” he said, taking a swig from his water bottle. “You down to hang tonight?”

“Wish I could but before my time is sucked away by the next paper I really need to research where I could do my internship. I’m all registered for school but I need to submit the paperwork for where I’ll be doing my hours and I’m running out of time.”

“You should talk to my buddy Sam. Maybe he could get you in at the hospital.”

Sam was Steve’s friend from the gym. They’d work out together, turning everything into a friendly competition to see who could run faster or lift more. Sam was also a doctor in the emergency department of Metro-General so he might have connections. It was worth a shot so you asked Steve to text him. Still you planned on searching for more backups to be safe.

Before the hour was over Steve left to head back downstairs to the security desk and you continued your work for Ms. Hill. You had evolved to working closer with Ms. Hill, becoming more like an executive assistant to her and when necessary Ms. Potts.

In between coordinating a meeting your phone goes off with a text from Wanda, asking if she could see you over the weekend for brunch. Ironically, she ended up moving to the city after all. There was only so far she could go with her degree at home and with her mother’s blessing she came to New York to work for The Jewish Museum.

She lived in a trendy loft on Bleecker Street, decorated with her signature eclectic style. Woven rugs hung like tapestries on the wall, plants hanging down from macramé holders in front of the large windows. Her furniture was an odd mix of plush velvet tufted cushions and smooth leather arm chairs that somehow worked with the mid-century touches and industrial shelving.

Her apartment had more space which you envied, although you loved everything else about where you lived. The neighborhood was amazing, with great shops and a lot of different food options right at your doorstep. Everything was perfect, except your neighbor.

Responding to Wanda you let her know you could most likely make it depending on the workload you’d be getting from your Saturday class. You could not wait until that was over. Spending all day in a small, windowless room instead of enjoying the summer weekend made you miserable but you were close to the end, so, so close.

When the work day was over you went to meet Steve downstairs, walking over to the desk to say goodnight to the elderly security guard who’s been with the company since its inception.

“Any plans for the weekend Mr. Lee?”

The wiry white hairs that made up his mustache moved as he grinned. “Well, Joanie thinks my hair’s getting a bit long,” he smiled, running his fingers through his greyish-white strands. “She’ll have it trimmed before supper, I'm sure,” he laughed.

A smile graced your face whenever you listened to Mr. Lee, admiring the adoration he had for his wife. Steve has heard all of his stories more than once but he never tires of them either. Everyone loved Mr. Lee, especially Tony Stark, who continued to pay him a full time salary for the part time hours he worked.

The job was easy enough as he greeted visitors to Stark Industries, and signing them in to the building while Steve and some other employees did most of the security checks.

You and Steve bid Mr. Lee goodbye as you made your way to the subway. Steve didn’t live far from you and though he could have gotten off at a further stop he always walked with you to your building, partially to make sure you got home safely but also because he needed a distraction to get out of his head.

There were many times when you suggested he go out, not with the purpose of meeting someone but just to break up the monotony of his routine, but Steve lost his confidence after the breakup. For now, he didn’t want to be told what to do, he simply needed a friend and so you were there for him.

Wanda sat back against the chair beside the bistro table covered in shade. Her always changing hair color was light brown today, parting the silky strands perfectly down the middle. She was the definition of cool, despite the heat, wearing a loose scoop-necked tank top, slim ripped jeans and topped things off with a pair of motorcycle boots. Her neck was adorned with a few necklaces of varying lengths, one of which she never took off, a silver lightning bolt in honor of her late brother.

She and Pietro were twins with distinctly different personalities. Wanda was laid back, even as a child. She would actually stop to smell the roses that lined the garden of their backyard, whereas Pietro was always moving. He was an extraordinary multitasker that could not sit still.

Pietro had so many dreams, a full list of things he wanted to do in life but he was taken from the world too soon. Wanda wears the necklace as a reminder to live life to the fullest, knowing how quickly things can change.

Squeezing through the other tables to get to Wanda, you huff as you sit down and catch your breath, apologizing for being late.

“Wanda, I swear I’m going to kill him.”

“Who?”

“The fucking Music Man! I had to leave my own damn apartment again because of his stupid playing. Like, dude, could you not? You live in an apartment. Everyone hears you, everyone!”

Grabbing the glass of ice water you quickly drink most of it to soothe the dehydration of your mouth.

“And another thing, like does he not realize that we can all hear the girls he’s banging? Wanda, they’re so fucking loud. If they were still there right now I bet you could hear them from here.”

Wanda laughed at your accusation. “Oh, so they don’t stay the night? He’s a ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ kinda guy?”

“I guess! I hear them leave, whining at his door as they’re begging to stay over. It’s so pathetic. What’s so great about this guy anyway?” you scoffed. “I wish he never moved here!”

With a final humph you opened the menu, your anger dissipating as you read the descriptions for everything you wanted, mouth salivating as you tried to decide what to choose. Wanda opted for the frittata while you decided to take out your frustrations on yourself with delicious Challah French Toast.

Wanda’s eyes widened as she watched you drown your meal in syrup. You hummed in satisfaction as you took a bite.

“Hmm, it’s not as good as the kind your mom makes,” you said.

Wanda laughed, “Uh, yeah, because she never used a whole bottle of syrup. Geez Y/N can you taste anything other than sugar?”

“Shush Wan, let me enjoy myself here.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at you. “Well, anyway, I wanted to tell you something exciting...” she sang, grinning widely. “Director Coulson asked me to curate an exhibit on prejudice told through Romani-Jewish art!”

“Wanda this is perfect! I’m so happy for you!” you beamed, getting up from your chair to wrap your arms around her in a proud hug.

“I know! I’m so excited. Mom’s gonna come up for the opening. I mean that’s a long time from now but fuck, I can’t wait!”

After finishing brunch you went back home to begin working on your final. It was a research paper that was worth half of your grade so you really needed to concentrate. And yet the moment the elevator doors opened to your floor you heard it, the sound of music flooding the halls coming from none other than the apartment next to yours.

Jamming your keys into the door with frustration you grunted, grabbing all the things you needed to do your work at the cafe. Your foot tapped impatiently as you waited for the elevator again. With your arms crossed over your chest you could feel your blood boiling beneath your skin, beating to the stupid rhythm of the stupid song that your stupid, inconsiderate neighbor wouldn’t stop playing.

The elevator dinged before the doors opened and you were like a bull, grunting and blowing puffs of air from your flaring nostrils as you were ready to charge into it. As the doors opened you stopped yourself from barreling into your neighbors that were inside.

“Whoa, Y/N!” Clint said, raising his hands up defensively, “Easy there.”

Clint lived on the floor above you along with his fiancée Natasha, whose arms were looped through his.

“Sorry guys,” you apologized. “Oh, wait.” Making your right hand into a fist you ran it across your chest in a few circular motions.

“Someone’s been practicing,” Natasha chimed in, signing her words along as she spoke to you.

Clint was partially deaf and though he used hearing aids he often signed, especially when he didn’t feel like talking to people, although you were one of the lucky ones he considered a friend. Still, you wanted to be able to communicate with him, even if he didn’t want to actually speak.

Clint was a history teacher who already tried to get you into his school for your internship but doubted you would be brought on board. There were apparently a lot of issues going on with the principal and Natasha surmised there was a big lawsuit in the works.

Natasha was an attorney, hoping to make partner at her current firm Nelson & Murdock. Clint never failed to praise her, nicknaming Natasha the Black Widow as he claimed watching her dismantle a witness was like watching a spider sink its venomous fangs into its prey.

“Where’re you guys off to?” you asked.

“Just going out for some ice cream,” she replied.

Clint laughed. “Some ice cream? No, I’m going out to eat a lot of ice cream,” he chuckled, rubbing his eager stomach.

Natasha poked the small protrusion of his belly through his shirt. “Listen buddy, we’ve got a wedding to plan. Easy on the ice cream.” Natasha brought her full lips to his for a kiss they both smiled through, knowing she was teasing him.

“What about you Y/N?” Clint asked.

The elevator doors opened and you walked out with them, explaining how frustrating it’s been that you’ve had to leave for the cafe to do your work all because of the new neighbor.

“Oh the Guitar Hero?” Clint joked. “Yeah, we can hear him too. Well, actually…” he drifted off smirking.

“Clint takes his hearing aids out so no, he doesn’t hear him,” Natasha filled in the information that had you bursting out with laughter.

“Can you hear the women too?” you wondered, considering their apartment was right above his.

“Yeah, kind of, that’s more muffled though. It’s probably a lot worse for you.” Natasha grimaced, catching the way she didn’t mean the words to come out.

It was true though, sharing a wall with the man that made your string lights bounce with every thrust. The sound was bad enough and thankfully your headphones helped with that but every night you had to shut your eyes, hoping you would fall asleep before he was through with them.

You had to give it to the guy though, the man had stamina. Still, you wanted to kill him. At least you were friends with a lawyer...

The next few days have the same result, with you coming home dead tired from work, hoping you’d be able to stay home to work on your final to no avail. You tried using the headphones in your apartment but it didn’t help. The sound was mostly blocked out but your mind couldn’t focus on anything but the anger you held towards the neighbor, knowing he was playing that same song over and over again.

You might as well live in the cafe since you’ve practically paid them your rent in coffee and pastries over the last month. You were burning out quickly and Steve decided you needed a break, bringing over pizza and beer.

Opening up the box, you smiled, staring at the bubbling cheese.

“Ahh, pizza, my one true love,” you said, plating slices for you and Steve.

Your small table was always covered in textbooks, mail and other paperwork you needed to tend to, so you and Steve took your usual spots on the couch.

After working at Stark Industries for a few months you made enough money that allowed you to finally buy much needed furniture. You adored your light grey couch, adorned with blush colored throw pillows. You threw the fuzzy white blanket over the side of the couch, not serving much purpose during the summer months other than to look like it was naturally left on the cushion in a perfectly styled manner for display.

Pushing aside the candlesticks that sat on your coffee table, you set down actual coasters for the bottles Steve opened, not wanting to ruin the veneer of the grey wood top of your rustic coffee table. A small accent rug helped define the space you declared as the living room, despite having your bed within arm’s reach beside you.

Against the brick wall is your TV, sitting atop a modern white stand with shelves for storage you’ve packed to the brim. Beside it, a large antique floor mirror leans against the brick. It was as tall as Steve who helped bring it to your apartment after you found it at a flea market. However, the thing you cherished most was the artwork of the Brooklyn Bridge that hung above your couch, painted by Steve as a gift to you.

“So,” he said, chewing quickly to swallow the food in his mouth. “I talked to Sam. He said it would be cool for you to call him about the internship.”

“Oh yeah. You really think he could help or is this just a rouse to give him my number?” you half-joked.

Steve laughed deeply, wiping away a bit of oil the pizza leaked onto his chin. “Nah, it’s definitely about the internship but I wouldn’t put it past Sam if he tried to take you out. Lord knows he’s been on my case about it with you since I met ‘im.”

“Does he not think guys and girls can have a friendship without romance involved?”

“I can’t speak for him… probably not though.”

You laughed before getting up for another slice. You hoped Sam would be able to help with the internship, no strings attached. He didn’t seem like that type of guy anyway, and all of Steve’s friends were good people so you weren’t worried.

As the Music Man began his one man band you had to gradually increase the volume of your television; your anger rising with every click of the remote. It was no longer enjoyable to watch the action movie you and Steve put on, having to raise the volume for higher to hear the dialogue and scramble to lower the blasting noise of car screeching and explosions. When you couldn’t take it anymore you called it a night.

“Guess you haven’t spoken to him?” Steve asked the question he clearly knew the answer to.

“Soon,” you said hopefully, not knowing when the day might come.

As the sun began to rise on the early Saturday morning you were getting ready for class. With your closet open you debated on what to wear when you heard a voice from the other side of the wall.

“Hi ma… Things are good… and Dad…”

He must have been walking around the apartment as you heard most of the words.

“I know…Leaving now…”

You heard the undoing of his locks and the front door creaking open. Shit! Your first moment to speak to the Music Man alone and you’re standing in your underwear. There’s definitely no way you would approach him now. Instead you raced to the door to try and catch a glimpse of what he looked like but it was too late.

Huffing in frustration you continued to get dressed and within fifteen minutes you were ready to leave. The elevator dinged as you shut your door, inserting your key to turn the deadbolt, unaware of the form that was moving closer towards you, not until you heard the whistling of a familiar tune.

Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, as if that tune was part of a psychological experiment, like Pavlov’s dog but instead of salivating you wanted to punch something.

“Hey neighbor.”

The soft voice of the Music Man broke you from your vision of punching through your shared wall and destroying his instruments. With a calming inhale you turned around to face him.

“I’m Bucky.”

You didn’t respond, you couldn’t. The breath was stolen from your lungs as you stared directly into the kindest, bluest eyes you had ever seen. All the anger left your body, replaced by the softness of his pink lips that reminded you of flowers in full bloom.

He was tall and lean, but your eyes did not miss the bulge of his biceps that showed through his cotton t-shirt. In his hand was a coffee cup, gripped under his long fingers. His hair was dark and pulled back into a low sloppy bun, with a loose piece falling beside his smile.

His hand was extended towards you and you weren’t sure how long it had been. It felt like you were staring at him for hours, or was it only seconds. Did time really stop moving the moment you finally saw him? You broke yourself out of your trance to shake his hand and introduce yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you Y/N. I just moved in. Well not just, but not long ago,” Bucky said.

Yeah I know. I hear you every night. You remembered your frustration and tried to assemble the sentence in your head of how to confront him.

“You ever get coffee from the place on the corner?” he asked, gesturing to the cup in his hand. “The line was crazy long but worth it, it’s delicious.”

“Yeah, once or twice but I’m usually at the Grind House. They’re open late and that’s where I have to go to study because… uh…” you stammered for a moment, “...your guitar playing is too distracting.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, wondering why you felt uncomfortable when he was the one who was being a bad neighbor.

Bucky’s face dropped with guilt. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

“It’s alright,” you lied, not knowing why you said that. Pulling more confidence out of midair you continued, “It’s just that the walls are so thin and I’m in school, well I work full time too, but I’ve just got a lot on my plate and honestly I’m not sure how much longer I can afford the coffee shop every night.”

You chuckled to lighten up the conversation, continuing to ramble before giving him a chance to speak. “So, um, if you wouldn’t mind, maybe you could practice during the day instead or weekends are mostly fine. I’m actually heading to class now so I’ll be gone all day.” Great, give him your whole schedule why don’t you.

With nerves getting the better of you, you turned on your heel quickly saying it was nice to meet him. Briskly making your way towards the elevator you pressed the button furiously in hopes it would get to your floor faster.

Once inside you let out a big sigh and waved your hand in front of your slightly sweaty, heated face. Bucky seemed like he genuinely wasn’t aware of the noise he was making, and the way you passive aggressively called him out on it made you feel like shit.

But what was worse was knowing there was a face, a drop dead gorgeous face that is responsible for making the women of New York scream in ecstasy every night. It was going to be very difficult to concentrate in class today.

Getting home later that afternoon you were anxious to make something to eat, but more anxious about Bucky, hoping you wouldn’t run into him again. As you opened your door your foot slid on something and as you looked down you saw a small envelope with your name written on it.

Inside was a $50 gift card to The Grind House with a little note. I’m truly sorry about the noise. –Bucky

Your mouth opened in shock at the realization that Bucky did this nice gesture for you, and worse, you were going to have to thank him.

PART 3

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes series

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atomicblasphemy · 4 years

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So, that before opening credits scene at the grom episode, I’ve been putting a lot of thinking into it. Here’s the thing, we see the portal open and King is watching so videos on Luz’s phone, right? Moreover, there’s a charger there that leads straight to the aforementioned portal. Now, this means that they are pretty much siphoning electricity from somewhere in the human realm. And we know for a fact that the human realm side of the portal is in a ran down shack that’s pretty unlikely to have power, also its in a pretty isolated wooden area. This leads to the unavoidable questions of: a - where the hell is the outlet? b - how long is that damn extension cord (and where can I buy one as long as that)?

For all we know, Luz and Camila’s home is the closest building to that ran down shack, i.e. the most likely answer to question a. This raises a few interesting scenarios, because it means that someone from the owl house would need to go through the portal, probably carrying an obscene amount of electric cables, go into Camila’s home, plug it, and make sure that Camila won’t unplug it.

First candidate for the job would be King, obviously. Problem is, he probably wouldn’t stand for such a lowly job. Besides he is likely too tiny to carry all that amount of power cables.

Second candidate: Luz herself. This should be even more difficult.

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“Mija? What are you doing?”

“Oh... Hi, Mami... Nothing, just uhhh charging my phone.”

“Why here, though? Don’t they have power at camp? Is that why you’re not returning my messages?”

“They... uhhh...” *sprints back to the portal*

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And, of course the third candidate would be Eda.

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“Miss Noceda, I understand you are in a lot of distress right now. But I need you to try again and tell us what happened in a calm manner. You said there was a break in, right? Where did the intruder go and when did this creature appear?”

After taking a few long breaths, looking at the officer’s eyes she continued. A few meters behind a large feathery figure lay asleep, it’s body coated with the colors of many tranquilizing darts.

“I... I was trying to get some sleep. I have long shifts and little chance to rest so this normally comes pretty easily. But as soon as my head hits the pillow I start hearing noises from downstairs, like someone going through my stuff. So I grab the first heavy object I find and start making my way there. So... In the middle of the living room is this tall white lady, striking ambar eyes, long grey hair going all the way down to her hips... and that tight fitting burgundy dress, like something that she had worn multiple times, but she still looked surprisingly elegant in it...” “Ma’am, please stay on track. You mentioned she said her name was ‘Edalyn Clawthorne’, most powerful witch in the Boiling Isles. Is that correct?”

“Right, sorry about that. But yeah, that’s correct.”

“We have checked, many times actually, for an Edalyn Clawthorne and nothing came up. Needless to say the same goes for those ‘Boiling Isles’. Did the intruder present any other form of behavior that you, especially considering your line of work, would understand as indicative of drug use or anything along those lines?”

“Humm... Well... Right after she introduced herself she said she was there to steal my power, some of my stuff... then she took a long look at me and said ‘and with some luck, your heart’. Then she winked at me and... I believe the kids call it fingerguns... She did that. That’s pretty much all that happened before I remember this person was invading my house and then I started yelling and trying to hit her with my bedside lamp. That’s when... Look, you won’t believe me anyway...”

“Why don’t you try me anyway?”

After taking a deep sigh, Camila continued.

“Right... At first she seemed like she was trying to calm me down or something. Then all of a sudden her eyes started going all black...”

“Mhmm”

“She let out this blood curling screech. It sounded almost as if she was in pain.”

“Mhmm”

“Then the feathers started appearing, her body started growing... I really thought she was going to kill me.”

“I see... That being the case how do you explain the first officers in the scene reporting they found the creature cuddling up to you in the front porch and the two of you watching Up! on your phone?”

“Well... First of all, shiny things seem to calm her down. Second, I didn’t know birds could purr.”

Meanwhile, the house’s backdoor is open, a long white cord snake in. It’s end laying a few inches from an unused outlet.

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Suffice to say Eda would be a no go either.

This leaves Owlbert. He is used to the human realm, but there’s again the problem of size. Nevertheless, the biggest problem is he obvious cuteness, which means that if Camilla is anything like her daughter, means the lady will try adopting and we might get some kind of weird reverse version of the show staring Camilla and Owlbert.

This leaves one final option. And I think it is important at this point to remind ourselves that it is of the utmost importance that the power cord remains connected to an outlet in the Noceda household at all times.

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Camila had just laid her head on the pillow. The softness of the fabric was a great contrast to the sounds emerging from downstairs. There was no question: her house was being burglarized. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence around those parts, she wanted to afford Luz the most safety and comfort possible but there was only so much her limited income could do. She was terrified, but also curious. After all, it stands to reason that criminals more often than not use discretion as their best weapon, the way the make sure to be long gone before the victim ever realizes that there even was a crime.

Whoever was downstairs, they had not intention of making their presence a secret. They had broken through the window and the shattering glass was loud enough in the mostly empty house, but that didn’t seem to be enough for whoever was down there. It sounded as though a tornado was taking place entirely on her living room and kitchen.

Curiosity defeats fear. She opens her chamber door, tentative steps heading towards the stairways. She was never a reckless person, she knew the costs and consequences actions can have. But something deep in her being, churning up her guts, screamin that what was taking place in her home did not belong in this world. That whatever it was she would never have another chance of witnessing and no amount of adult responsibility can defeat the childish urge for wonder. She thought of the daughter she so missed. And such novelties are hardly ever divorced from the fear of the unknown.

The final step and she was at last on ground level. Sure enough, she could see plenty signs of the devastation. Furniture upturned, shelves spilling their contents on the floor, dirt and mud splattered in all surfaces. But, nothing missed. Not much broken either. Whoever was there, their intentions evaded her entirely.

The kitchen. A loud metallic bang came from the kitchen.

When had she start shaking?

She regrets her former bravery, but she was a Noceda, she crossed the sea in search of a better life. She faced monsters before. She was no coward.

Camila Noceda was no coward. She looked into the kitchen.

There was the intruder, whatever it was. She lacked names for the being, no, the monster making a ruckus in her kitchen. In it’s beak a plug it tried to jam into one of the outlets on the wall and surprisingly enough it was the one closest to the window it had entered through. And she knew that that had been the entry point better than she knew her own name at this point. It the shattered glass on the flower was not incontrovertible evidence enough the damning proof was that the being had not yet finished crossing that threshold. Perhaps it never would. Its body, this elongated yellow mass of yellow feathers was still on the window, going back into the woods to an unfathomable distances.

This monster, she knew did not belong in this world. Reality was unkind, and working with the healing of bodies she knew nature could be cruel. But this. This was madness. And finally when the creature seems to notice her presence the void in it’s eyes seemed to voice agreement with such belief.

It’s birdlike face inched ever closer to Camila’s. She couldn’t move. The power cord still in the creatures beaks. Camila would have once considered owls as the most precious and adorable birds. No longer.

It offered the power cord to the human. She plugged it. Mortals could not challenge the designs of immortals, after all.

The creature seemed satisfied. It’s face grew even closer to Camila’s, and finally a sound in a surprisingly screechy voice echoed through the ravaged home and it’s denizens soul:

“H O O T”

And before perception could catch up, it was gone.

She would live in the house for the remainder of the many decades of her life. Things would change, new pieces of furniture, new colors, adaptations to accommodate an aging body.

Much would change in the Noceda home over the years. But that plugged power cord would be a constant. A heirloom she would pass on for generations. An offering to make sure whatever demon, or god she made acquaintances with that night would remain satisfied, not to return to this world, not to ravage it one home at a time again.

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So yeah, I’m pretty sure Hooty was the one that made sure the owl house has a reliable source of electricity.

#THE OWL HOUSE #luz noceda #KING #owlbert #owl beast #camila noceda #edalyn clawthorne #eda #hooty #the owl house hooty

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oh-so-scenarios · 4 years

Text

Loose Ends | three

⇢ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀ ʟᴀsᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴍᴘʀᴇssɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ...ᴛᴏᴏ ʙᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ sᴛɪᴄᴋ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀᴍᴀɢᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀᴜsᴇᴅ.

⇢ᴄᴇᴏ! ᴋɪᴍ ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ x ᴀᴅᴍɪɴ ᴀssɪsᴛᴀɴᴛ! ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴇx-ғɪᴀɴᴄᴇs!ᴀᴜ, ᴀɴɢsᴛ, ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇsᴛᴏʟᴏᴠᴇʀs

**A/N: Yall already know the deal, there are errors! (Word count 6.03K)

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Y/N:

I have to tell her. I have to tell her. There is no way I can keep this from her forever.

I’m staring at the door that led into my roomy 3 bedroom apartment. On the other side was my 17-year-old sister. The bass of the TV was leaking through the door, letting me know that she sat in front of the living room TV.

Today was my 6th day working for Mr. Kim and since the heated discussion four days ago, he barely speaks to me. He barely lifts his gaze to acknowledge my presence and I can’t say I hate it, but I don’t like it either.

I can’t expect anything from him. The state of things was due to my decisions and even though I am fine with handling that burden, I wasn’t prepared to see his face every day. It’s slowly taking a toll on me. It’s picking away at my resolve and leaving me with a familiar empty feeling I haven’t felt in a long time.

Luna may only be 17 but she worries about me like a mother. It’s been like that since I could remember. I can’t recall when the roles changed. When did I lose my grips of being the older sister, and when did Luna take on that role?

I lean against the wall by the door, staring blankly at the floor. It’s unfair really, how I have leaned on Luna. It’s unfair and cruel because Luna should have been leaning on me. Regret bubbles up in my stomach and travels up my body to leave a bitter taste in my mouth.

Luna was always my mother’s favorite child. She was the one that received the most hugs, the better presents, and the compliments. As a child, it bothered me. Why was she more important than me? A mother should love her children equally! They should put the same amount of effort into each child.

But that wasn’t the case with Luna and I. Oh no, Luna needed the extra attention and love because Luna was sick. She’d been sick since birth, but our mom did a good job of hiding it from me. The random walks they’d take together while I stayed at home with my grandmother would leave me in envy.

But I found out as Luna got older and started to talk that they were going to doctor’s appointments. Juna was born with a weak heart. I never understood the details. Something about a tube she was supposed to have didn’t fully develop. My mother was hiding it from me because she didn’t want me to worry.

Doctors were telling my mother that it would be a miracle if she lived past 22 years old. A horrifying thing to hear from anyone. The fact that my mother didn’t crumple from the stress is unbelievable. This was after my father up and left us. My parents were never married, so when he left after Luna was born, my mother was one her own.

We moved in with our grandmother and my mom worked and worked. All she would do is work. We’d see her on weekends and that’s when she’d pour all her time into Luna. I grew to resent her. I was only 7 when Luna was born, so the present blossomed as I entered adolescence.

However, my mother passed when I was 16. A car accident took her life, leaving us to be raised by our grandmother. My mother worked like crazy, leaving money for that we used for Luna’s medical bills after she passed.

Well, as much of the bills as we could.

Luna adored Namjoon, and when things went to shit 3 years ago, she blamed herself, but what could I have done?

I took my keys out, unlocked the door and stepped into the apartment. Just as I predicted, Luna sat on the couch, her back facing me, with her laptop on her lap and the tv on as background noise.

“You’re home?” She called over her shoulder. She didn’t spare me a glance, clicking rapidly at something.

“Yeah.” My voice came out thin, which made her clicking stop. She looks over her shoulder at me, her short brown hair pushed behind her ears. Her thin bangs were a distray, a result of her running her fingers through her hair in frustration.

“Rough day at work?” She questions, keeping her eyes on me for a moment longer before turning back to her laptop. I take off my shoes, and approach the couch, barely peeking at her laptop screen. I take a seat on the loveseat perpendicular to her and watch as she starts to type something.

“An essay?” I assume.

“Yes ma’am.” She answers glancing up at me. Luna does school online, her grades being good enough that she convinced her school to allow her to do most of her senior year online.

“Luna,” I call out with a heavy heart, “There is something I need to tell you.”

Without a glance, she hums in response. She wore an oversized black hoodie with pj shorts she found on sale some time ago. She told me she bought them because of the design of avocados on it. I’m not surprised. She loves silly things like that.

“You know that new contract I started?”

“The long one you swore you weren’t gonna accept?” She mentions, smiling in a mischievous manner. She only did that because she was also against me doing such a contract. She knew I’d be miserable, and she was right.

“Is the CEO an asshole?” She asks but speaks again right after. “-It’s not like you haven’t handled some rude CEOs before?”

“The CEO is Namjoon.” I forced it out, and it feels like I was running out of oxygen when I said it. My words are quick and unsteady.

She looks at me with wide eyes, like she was waiting for me to start laughing and tell her it was a joke.

“Seriously? The Kim Namjoon?” She questions and moves the laptop off her lap and onto the couch. She leans forward, and she doesn’t look away from me.

“Yeah. He’s the CEO.” I show her a small smile before leaning back in the loveseat. I throw my head back and stare at the ceiling.

“You need to quit.” She orders.

I chuckle, “I knew you were going to say that.” I mutter, still gazing at the white ceiling.

“Y/n! Come on! You can’t keep working there! This isn’t good for you.” She argues.

“You think I don’t know that Luna? Seeing his face every day is wearing me down, but I signed the contract. I can’t leave.” I informed her.

When I picked my head up to see the worried grimace on her face, I sighed and sat up in the loveseat. It was usually comfortable, but today it’s softness was useless. I’m in an uncomfortable situation. This job is leaving me in a constant state of stress.

“It’s not too bad.” I try to lift the mood, “He barely speaks to me, so it’s nothing! He only speaks to me about work.”

“Y/n.” Her tone is different and she drops her focus to her hands in her lap. I know what’s coming. I know what she’s going to say and I’ve heard it too many times for my liking.

“Luna, don’t even go there!” I groan, shaking my head at the sad sad look in her eyes.

“Y/n, you keep saying this but...I still feel awful! This is all my fault! If it wasn’t for me You and Namjoon would have been marr-”

“Stop!” My voice comes out in a panic shriek, taking both of us by surprise. Luna jumps at my outburst, her eyes becoming wet with tears.

“Luna, you don’t need to bring it up again. None of this is your fault, okay?” I stand up from my seat, grabbing my bag off the coffee table, and walking around the couch she sat on, and down the hallway. But before I can go far, Luna speaks again.

“Do you still love him?” She shouts. I stop walking and stare down at the carpet. My chest tightens and I lean against the wall for strength. Do I still love him?

“Y/n? You still love him right?” This time her voice is closer. I turn around to see her standing at the end of the hallway, her hips leaning on the back of the couch. Her eyes showed pity, while she ran her fingers through her bangs. She always does that when she’s stressed.

We stare at each other and a moment of silence passes before she sighs.

“Y/n…” She whines, taking my silence as an answer, “You need to quit.”

“I can’t.” I answered immediately, “I can’t quit. It doesn’t matter how I feel. He hates me now. Plus, a man like Namjoon...you can never stop loving him.”

“M-maybe this is fate? It’s a second chance.”

I laughed at her notion and could only shake my head in response. A second chance? What a joke. The sad look in her eyes only makes me want to retreat. I turn my back on her and go into my room, feeling the weight of the past few days on my shoulders. I closed the door behind me and tossed my bag to the side before falling face-first into my bed. The painful memory burned into my mind. It burned like a new fire wound. It stung and the slightest thought back to it made my eyes water.

The heartbreak in his eyes will haunt me for the rest of my life, but I made a choice.

《 PAST 》

At this moment, I’d rather be swallowed up by the ground. I’d rather whatever higher power there is, strike me down and end my life at this very moment. It would be less painful. Pulling layers of band-aids from burnt skin would be less painful. At that moment my whole body went stiff. My knees locked, my muscles tensed and my lungs were struggling to take in oxygen.

Maybe it’s because I was holding my breath with my eyes wide. I stared at the man smiling up at me for the past 3 seconds.

3 seconds. It had only been 3 seconds but it felt like an eternity. I blink, and he smiles back at me. He’s on one knee, holding out the most beautiful ring I have ever seen.

Not a huge rock, but it shines beautifully. A dazzling circular diamond, with smaller diamonds lined around the band. The silver band itself sparkled. In the ring, I could see his love, his hard work, and our years of laughter, tears and good memories.

I left out a harsh breath, my head feeling light as I was holding my breath. My awareness grows and I become aware of where we are. At a fancy restaurant in which it was rented out, making us the only customers. The kitchen staff stood at the back of the restaurant, watching me for my reaction.

Namjoon. Kim Namjoon, the love of my life and the man I’m pretty sure the universe made for me and I for him. He stares at me with a smile, tears of nerves, and joy coating his loving eyes. It’s only been another 4 seconds. 7 seconds since I saw his lips move I say those words.

I couldn’t hear them as I was having an out of body panic attack, but his lips moved so I’m sure he said the words.

“Y/n, will you marry me?”

He said them and I knew he would. I saw this coming and I knew he was going to say these things...so now I know what I have to say.

I push down the dread pulling in my system and laugh. I laugh in his face, trying my best to not see his hopeful smile drop into a look of anguish and fear.

“Seriously Namjoon?” I cackled, trying to swallow down the tears that were burning my eyes.

“Marry you?” I hissed. He stays there on one knee, bringing down his arm that was showing me the ring.

“I-is there something wrong?” His voice trembles and it feels like my heart is turning to ash in my chest.

“Is there something wrong!?” I raise my voice, stepping back from his crouched figure, “Namjoon, what do you have to offer? What do you have to give that makes you think you could be my husband? We just graduated college and you don’t have a cent to your name because you went and got disowned by your rich parents.”

He gasps, shocked by my words.

“Y/n, I did that for you and for myself! You’re the one that pushed me to go against my parents plans for me. You said you’d stand by myself.” He exclaims, and stands to his feet, the tears in his eyes not the same happy tears as before.

“As you do what Namjoon? Write poetry? Help other people put out their shitty works? I need stability. You had that when you were listening to your parents.” My voice trembled towards the end, my resolve breaking with every second.

Namjoon narrowed his eyes at me and staggered back. It was as if his own realization left him physically drained.

“Y/n…” He pauses, staring down at the ground while tears run down his cheeks.

“Did you only get with me because of my family’s money?”

I love you. Namjoon I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I have no choice Joon, but I need to do this.

“Of course, I did.” I choke out, “After years of friendship, I knew you had a crush on me so I took it to my advantage...but there is no reason to stay with you now.”

He looks up from the floor and clutches the velvet box in his hands, “I don’t believe you.”

“Believe it.”

“Y/n,” He reaches out, holding a hand of mine in his free one, small pants leaving his lips.

“Y/n, please stop. This has to be a joke right? This is going too far!” He squeezed my hand, pleading with me. Hi eyes stayed on my face, scrutinizing my expression for any sign of a joke. He brings me closer to him, his familiar warmth and scent overpowering my senses.

He stares down at me, in disbelief and anguish all I could see. I almost broke. I could feel my eyes burning with what was going to be tears. My dearest Namjoon gazed at me with a death grip on my hand, knowing that if he let me go, I’d fly away from him like a balloon.

“Get off of me!” I yelped, taking my hand away from his and pushing him back.

“Y/n.” His voice broke. The sound alone triggered tears too well in my eyes. I turn my head away from his so he doesn’t see them. I grabbed my bag that sat out the dinner table and rushed out of the restaurant. My heels clicked as I got out of the restaurant and onto the street. I don’t know where I’m walking to but my legs just carry me, wanting to run away from the pain.

《 PRESENT 》

It has been a quiet day. It’s been a quiet week. Mr. Kim only speaks to me when needed, falling to having Sana deliver orders to me, making it so I only see Mr. Kim is passing. No surprise, and no hard feelings. This is probably for the best and if we can keep this up for the next 7 months and 1 week...things will run smoothly.

Mr. Kim is currently out of the office, so I sat at the desk with Sana at my side. She worked on some documents for a presentation Mr. Kim will be having. The rights of a book that will be made in a movie are up for discussion.

While I am setting up a meeting with authors who are looking to publish with Moonchild Publishings. It was 3:37 PM, 6 PM not feeling too out of reach. The place is filled with the constant tapping of the keyboard and the humming of printers and copy machines. Everything was going as normal.

I sat in my seat, my black & white checkered flare pants making me wonder if my curves were being shown off a bit too much. Despite Mr. Park’s wandering eyes, I was beginning to think that my outfits showed how hard I was trying.

I wore a simple black long sleeve blouse with some tan heels to bring the outfit together. I did a simple hairstyle and rushed out of the house, waking up a bit later than I usually do. The clouds were grey when I left the house, with a humidity thickness in the air.

So when I was returning from lunch, which Sana followed me to, I felt the first softy warning drops of a storm come. By the time when I reached the top floor in the elevator, it was a full downpour. Mr. Kim hadn’t left the building. He was out of the office but was somewhere doing business.

He had certain types of meetings that though they were on his schedule, the reasonings were unknown. I don’t ask questions, I answer them so there is no point in asking him for details.

I hear the elevator bing from down the hallway and I assume it’s Mr. Kim made his way back. I don’t plan to even look up, seeing as Mr. Kim doesn’t spare us a glance when he enters, so I stopped standing up to greet him, as Sana still does.

The coldness we show towards each other hasn’t gone unnoticed, making me think back to something Sana said back at lunch.

“You two really hate each other huh? Like old enemies or something.” She laughs it off and takes another bite of her sandwich.

I’m snapped out of my flashback just in time to hear the click of heels. Heels? That couldn’t be-

I looked up to see another familiar figure. An older Korean woman wearing a straight and non-form fitting white dress with a creme colored bag over her shoulder and nestled in between her armpit.

Her light brown hair was up in a neat bun with a sparkling brooch attached. Her light make-up and freshly done nails gave away the lifestyle she lives. She’s rich, she's well off. Her confident posture and expensive heels show that.

She holds her head high and believes she's above the people that work here. She’s also looking at me. No she’s glaring at me.

I stare back at her and the feeling of disgust crawls it’s way up my throat. I press my lips tightly against each other, clenching my teeth to force a somewhat presentable smile.

“Mrs. Kim.” My voice was strained, and my muscles were reeling in discomfort.

She smiles, that same smile she gave me 3 years ago. Pity. Disgust. Superiority. It was all in her smile. It was a victory smile almost, her eyes showed anger. Anger and confusion. She probably thought she'd gotten rid of me, but here I am. Back in her perfect son’s life.

“Y/n, we meet again,” she pauses, “the unfortunate.”

Sana looks back and forth between both of us, her facial expression going from surprise to confusion and finally understanding. She rises from her seat to say hello to Mrs. Kim. I, on the other hand, do no such thing.

I stay seated and stiffly look back down at the computer.

Sana sits down again, awkwardly clearing her throat and looking at me as if she wanted to speak. The slight trembling of my fingers gave away that I wasn’t going to speak.

“Hello, Mrs. Kim. Your son is out of the office, I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” Sana informs her. I continue to type away at the computer, trying to contain the rage that was causing a sense of anxiety over my body.

This cursed, evil, and wicked woman. I look up from the computer screen

“That’s fine. I’ll wait in his office.” She answers Sana but keeps her eyes on me. She slowly turns around, happy that I’m watching her. I forget where I am for a moment and roll my eyes at the older woman just as the door to the office closed behind her.

I looked over to my right and met Sana’s blank facial expression.

“I’m not gonna ask any questions.” She says.

“Good.” I deadpan and look at the computer screen. I pretend that I don’t feel Sana’s stare linger on my profile. However, I couldn’t help the feeling of heat rising in my body. My body temperature was going up as my anger increased. I forgot how much I hated that woman. I forgot how STUPID she thought I was. Yet in the end, I was exactly what she always accused me of being.

A lousy woman that would take money over her son. That’s exactly what I did. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, my movements stopping but the trembling of my fingers continuing.

“Y/n?” Sana called. As if a thin string of my sanity snapped, I stood up from my seat, causing Sana to flinch at the unexpected movement. My breathing becomes labored while I stare at the closed double doors of Mr. Kim’s office.

Who was the real winner in any of this? Did I get what I wanted out of our stupid deal? Did she get what she wanted? She must have, her smug smile burned into my frontal lobe. It’ll probably hunt me in my dreams, and any random thought of it in the future will cause me anger.

Like an embarrassing memory that makes you shiver up and regret your decisions. That’s exactly what I’m feeling. I stomped away from the desk and down the hallway, those white walls leaving me to be drowned in my thoughts. I have to find the bathroom. I know there is one in this hallway somewhere.

I keep my eyes low, stomping quickly to seek a place I can let out my scream of frustration.

It isn’t till I crash into something hard that my parade is stopped. The scent is familiar but not comforting, causing my stomach to drop.

“Ms. L/n?” Mr. Kim's voice held no concern but confusion. Why was I not at my desk doing the work that was expected of me? I continued to look down, only staring at his expensive dress shoes and the carpet.

I took a small step back, my hands balling into fists to keep from reigning my anger onto him. He didn’t deserve that. If anyone is a victim here, it’s Namjoon. I have no right to take this out on him. I also had no right to waltz into his life as I did. He knows that, though not for the same reason as Mrs. Kim and me.

“Sir, I’ll be there in a moment, you have a guest waiting for you in your office.” I take a step to the right, hoping to bypass him, but he mimics me, blocking my way again.

“Where are you going?” He questions, this time crossing his arms over his chest. I don’t have to see his face to know he’s looking down at me with his jaw clenched. In the last 3 weeks, I’ve realized he does that when he suspects I’m up to something. Or what he thinks I’m bullshitting.

All those suspicions only being grounded in personal feelings, seeing as my work here has been nearly perfect. I picked up on his routine quickly and moved before I had to be told. His charcoal grey three-piece suit looked like a smooth fabric. Something else with a combination of silk. A sign of wealth.

I almost chuckle to myself at the bitter aftertaste of my choices. I couldn’t even want Namjoon back. It would only play into the gold digger impression I had him believe. I mean, no one expected a small-time publishing company to explode in success in its first two years, then dominate in its third. The 25-year-old CEO became a millionaire.

Whether it was due to any assistance from his parents, I can’t be sure but...it makes me wonder if he would have still succeeded with me at his side. If I have to lie to myself and say he needed me gone to grow like this, I’ll do it. It makes me feel better.

I take in a deep breath and slowly look at Namjoon, my eyes moving over his suit and the dark red tie, before meeting his cold eyes.

I mustered up a smile, while oozed with sarcasm. So unprofessional of me. But this whole work atmosphere is unprofessional. The conflicts of interest would make any businesswoman lose her shit.

“The bathroom.” I answer, “I am allowed to use the bathroom, aren't I, sir?”

He doesn’t acknowledge the testing edge to my words but asks another question.

“What guest did you let in my office?” The beginning of him scolding me. I could feel it. My eyes fluttered close in frustration.

“Have you forgotten the rules I laid before? Any meetings that weren’t on my schedule should be turned away. I do not pencil people in-”

“It’s your mother, sir.” My eyes open after saying, “The guest in the office is your mother. She let herself into your office, I was not going to argue with her.”

His face relaxes from displeasure to...discomfort? He groans and runs his hands over his face before staring at the carpeted floor for a moment.

“What is that woman doing here?” He says under his breath. I could barely catch it, but there was disgust and unhappiness dripping off the words. My brows furrowed, not expecting that. Their relationship wasn’t repaired after I left?

I bite my lip to hide the victorious smirk that threatens to appear on my lips.

“Carry on.” Mr. Kim says without a glance back at me. He walks past me, no urgency in his movements. I continued down the hallway, past the elevator, and further down till I came to the bathroom marked for women. I was lucky enough to find it empty. I stood there staring at myself in the mirror, feeling like I was having an out of body experience.

This is what people mean when they say your decisions always come back to haunt you.

I clear my throat and let out a scream of frustration, knowing that anyone who gets off the elevator at this moment could probably hear it up the hallway.

But I don’t care. I need to let this out. I scream against, this time bringing my foot up to kick an innocent stall door.

《 PAST 》

I don’t belong here. Anyone could tell that I don’t belong here. The eyes of every person that I met held the question of, “What are you doing at a restaurant like this?”

I was wondering the same thing. I was wondering about all types of things. Why did Mrs. Kim call me here? Why did she tell me not to tell Namjoon? Was she ready to stop forcing her and Mr. Kim senior’s dreams onto Joon and to let him do what he wants?

I bet she is still a bit shocked at Joon taking himself out of the family. He was disowned but also removed himself. The Kims weren’t expecting such action from their son. He was only 21 years old, almost 22, and fresh out of college with the Business degree they forced on him.

The world isn’t easy, so he surely wasn’t serious about throwing his family away? But he did.

They blame me. The whole family blames me and that’s okay. I was the one encouraging to do such a thing, so I’ll carry my weight of responsibility. I, however, can’t wait to tell her that both Joon and I are doing great without their money. It’s only been a few months since he was disowned, but I haven’t seen Joon so happy in all my years of knowing him.

“I’m here to meet Mrs. Kim?” I said to the host. She nodded, looking me up and down before motioning for me to follow her. I wore a simple tee and some jeans with sneakers. I wasn’t going to dress up for this woman. With how she moves about things, I doubt we’ll be eating anything.

The restaurant was huge, seeming to have different wings and sections for people who wanted to be away from others. I try not to gawk at the luxurious decor, noticing the judgemental looks from the host who was in front of me.

The hostess brings me to a small circular table where Mrs. Kim sat waiting. Her focus was on the table cloth. She traced the small details of the white and gold table cloth, not even looking up as I took my seat.

“Y/n.” She says sternly, putting her dark gaze on me.

“How would you like to make a deal?” She continues. My brows furrow and I cock my head to the side. I think for a moment before laughing.

“Is this like those dramas where you give me a check to leave Joon? Mrs. Kim...you must be joking? You didn’t really call me here for this?” I keep laughing but her stone-cold facial expression doesn’t change.

“I just want my son back.” She hisses.

“You can have your son back Mrs. Kim. You just need to understand his--” She cuts me off, frustration appearing on her face for a split second.

“You don’t understand, do you? Namjoon is never gonna open his arms to us as he did before! I don’t know what nonsense you put into his head, but if you get out of the picture, any last strands of this riff will be gone.’

“Excuse me?” I say.

“I don’t leave loose ends Y/n. You are a loose end of this rebellious and hard patch I’ve been having with my son. Which is why I simply cannot let you stay.” She smirks, reaching for the glass of water that was sitting in front of her this whole time.

She can’t be serious! What type of entitled selfish--

“Namjoon is going to ask you to marry him.” She states after getting a sip of water.

My breath is knocked out of me, “H-huh?”

“You heard me right,” she gives me a pointed look. As if she couldn’t believe that I didn’t see this coming.

“He told me himself Y/n….at least during an argument he did. Seeing as there is no ring on your finger,” Her eyes flicker to my hands that sat on the table, “He hasn’t asked you yet.”

She wasn’t giving me time to move past the initial shock of Namjoon’s proposal. He’s going to ask me to marry him?

I brought a hand to my chest, trying to catch my birth.

“Y/n, I’m sure it’ll be a lovely ceremony,” She pauses, “too bad Luna won’t be there.”

My happy mood is lost. The surprised smile left my lips while my face twisted up in pain.

“E-excuse me?”

“Your sister Luna,” She gives an ungenuine pout, “Poor girl is sick right? And from what I heard getting worse.” My eyes burn and blur with tears. She’s right.

Luna is getting worse and worse. They say she’ll need surgery soon because her odds aren’t looking good. Namjoon has done his best to be the supportive rock for us both. Luna already believes her time is coming to an end and I have to smile and tell her to stay hopeful, all while having the same thoughts.

She has been on the waiting list for a heart transplant for the last 2 years and we’re still nowhere near where we need to be. As if I could even afford the surgery once she gets a transplant.

The doctor told me it’ll be another 3 years before she could get a heart donor, and in the same breath told me she wouldn’t last a year without one. Life is cruel.

Mrs. Kim isn’t phased by my tears, and through my blurred vision, I think she smiles wider.

“Y/n,” She leans close as if she has a secret she’s been dying to tell me. Her dark eyes were now bright with mischief.

“Reject Namjoon’s proposal. Tell him you’re done with him and turn your back on him. That’s all I need from you and I can get your sister moved up on the transplant list. I could get her ready for surgery by tomorrow if I wanted to. I’ll pay for everything.”

I leaned back in the seat, a sob ripping through my chest at her proposition. My hands fell into my lap and I looked down at them.

“I mean, you’re not going to let your precious sister die are you?” She egged on, making my sobs grow stronger, “A big sister should do everything in their power to save their siblings right?”

Namjoon’s smiling face flashed into my mind, followed by my sister’s face. She sat there weak and scared in her hospital bed with a small smile on her lips.

“At least I'll be able to see mom soon.” She said softly.

I bring my hand up to my chest, slouching over in my seat with my hand gripping at the fabric of my shirt. It feels like my heart is tightening up. Growing tight in the grips of the reality of what’s in front of me.

The pain was running throughout my whole being, leaving me unable to speak words.

“So are you going to pick Namjoon or Luna? What will the choice be Y/n?”

I don’t know how long I’m sitting there crying but Mrs. Kim doesn’t stop me, watching me with judgmental eyes. It might have been the tears in my eyes but for a small second, I thought I saw some sadness in her eyes.

I struggled to catch my breath, sniffling, and wiping the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hands.

“So what will it be?” She asks when my breathing returns to normal.

I clench my teeth, fighting off the second wave of tears that tickled my eyes.

“I-I’ll...I’ll leave Namjoon. I’ll do it.”

《 PRESENT》

I walk out of the bathroom, knowing I was already 5 minutes past the appropriate time someone takes to use the bathroom. I walk down the hallway, my steps quick to get back to my desk before Mr. Kim has a reason to yell at me.

I meet an angry Mrs. Kim coming in the opposite direction. When we lay our eyes on each other, other steps slow, leaving us in a silent staring match. We stood about 4 yards from each other, the tension being so thick, I thought I could feel it around me.

“Seems like your son still hates you.” I jeer with a grin.

She snickers, taking slow strides towards me, “What? Does it make you feel like you’re a winner?” She looks me up and down with the same look of pity she gave me while I sobbed in front of her 3 years ago.

“All I know is that you weren’t able to repair that so-called relationship with your son. You should have known I had nothing to do with that.”

She stops just as she’s walking past me, her eyes forward while she stood right beside me.

“Don’t worry Y/n...knowing that the questions of ‘What If’ that haunt you at night will always cause you to hate yourself, is all I need. In the end...only a fool would think they’ve won such a battle.”

Her words make my blood run cold, and I grow stiff as she continues to waltz away, stopping at the elevators. I stand there frozen long enough to hear the ding as the doors open, and the ding as they close.

It seems this time around, there are no winners after all. Just two losses and a casualty that is the one and only Kim Namjoon.

∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ❣

Alrightty! So the story can finally start to really get moving! I’m excited! :D

There were people who told me they wanted to be on the taglist for this but i sadly lost the list I had!

Please let me know what you thought of this chapter! I’m excited to see what you think of it and how you think things will progress.

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staywritten · 4 years

Text

A Love That Lasts│HoneyMoon

A Love That Lasts │ HoneyMoon

Synopsis: You’ve spent the last two years, helping your very handsome next door neighbor raise his adorable daughter. The two of you fell into a routine before you knew it. And now you had this little family. You couldn’t help but fall for him.

Genre: Parent!Au, Dad!Bang Chan, Fluff, Nonidol!Au, Smut

Word Count: 3538

Part I │Part II │Part III │Part IV │Part V│Epilogue

A Love That Lasts Masterlist

Masterlist. AO3

Essentially this is another fluffy, smutty bonus chapter 💖

Warning: This Chapter contains Smut. Rated M

Ideally, Chan wanted to bring you somewhere else. A beautiful tropical island neither of you has ever been before, one on the other side of the world far away from anyone either of you knew. He wanted to spend the nights under a canopy bed, illuminated by the moonlight, with you under him. He wanted to make love to you in a private infinity pool until your voice became hoarse.

But in the end, you two agreed that a honeymoon in Australia could be just as romantic. You wanted to see his home, you wanted to see his family and friends. You wanted to see the place that made the man you loved. Another part of your compromise was that Minseo was also coming on the honeymoon. Neither of you had it in you to leave her for a week.

What was supposed to be Chan making love to you every moment he could, turned into a family vacation. On one hand, he loved being able to show Minseo her home, she was old enough to appreciate and love it now, but on the other, this was supposed to be his honeymoon.

On the last few days of his trip, his parents took Minseo for the weekend. They were bringing her to the amusement park so she was going to have a lot of fun with his siblings and parents. And for two whole days, you were all his.

After dropping off Minseo with his parents he met up with you at a local pub downtown that he frequented in the past. His friends had kidnapped you for the day, dragging you all around town and taking you to a spa day. He smiled watching you from the other side of the bar as you talked to his friends, your hands moving animatedly as you told a story. His eyes softened as he just took you in. The bright wide smile on your face, your airy laugh that echoed, how your skin was practically glowing from being in the Sydney sun. The way your light sundress hugged your body in all the right places.

Chan smiled, calling over the very familiar bartender “How ya going Christian?” he leaned against the bar.

“Chris! Long time no see, your friends told me you’d be stopping by. You home for a while?” The young man wiped down the bar top. He remembered the first time Chan and his friends stumbled into his bar, and how they became regulars. It was surreal watching the kids grow up.

“Just a few days, I actually leave Monday.” he leaned his head on his hand. “I’ll be back in a few months for my brother’s graduation but for now it’s just a quick visit.”

“How’s Felix been?”

“Still staying in trouble” he chuckled before looking back over at you hearing you laugh. Your back was to him as you talked to his friends. His eyes practically sparkling as he looked at you. “Hey Christian can I get a gin and tonic for the lady at the end”

He started on the drink, pouring the gin and lime juice into the shaker. “Easy there Kid, she’s shot down every guy that’s approached her tonight” he shook up the contents and poured it into the glass, topping it with simple syrup and lime juice. “She’s a pretty thing, but a tough one”

“That pretty thing is the reason I’m back home.” His smile couldn’t help but widen hearing that. “That’s my wife” the pride, evident in his voice. “We’re visiting for our honeymoon”

“Get out” Christian beamed. “Little Chris is all grown up, That explains the confidence” he chuckled before sliding the drink over to you. “Ma’am a drink from the gentleman at the end of the bar”

You turned to look at the bartender, your head shaking immediately out of instinct, but then your eyes met with Chan’s. “You’re here” you beamed immediately, going to hug him, his friends laughing at his cheesiness. Wrapping your arms around his neck you pulled him into a sweet kiss. Your beautiful smile, contagious. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here?”

“I was enjoying watching you” he smirked, rubbing your hips with his thumbs over your sundress. His eyes raked down your body “This dress looks good Baby” he pecked your lips again. “Did you have a good day today?”

“Mhmm your friends are so much fun, they told me all about your high school antics” you laughed, playing with his hair. “How was Minseo?”

“I was worried she was going to miss us too much to want to spend the whole weekend with my parents but once she saw Berry she was done with me” he chuckled, pressing a kiss on your nose, just gazing at you. “We may have to get a dog”

“I have no complaints” As you tried to pull back to lead him back to his friends his grip on your hips tightened, holding you to him. “Chris” your tone playfully scolding him. “You should say hi, they’re your friends”

He whined “But I already know them” he bit down on his full lower lip, eyeing you. His gaze darkening. “There’s so many other things I want to do and we only have about 40 hours until my parents drop off Minseo” he whispered against the shell of your ear.

You looked up at him, through your long lashes, your face warming from his sultry look. “And what did you have planned for 40 hours?”

“I just wanted to be a little selfish” he pressed his forehead against yours. “I have to share you with your job, my friends, our family...I want you to be all mine for the next 40 hours…”

“Chris, we can’t just leave, it’s rude” your hands slid down his button-up, resting on his chest as you glanced back at his friends. “Just say hi for a little bit”

“Ok, honestly yes it could be a little rude” he chuckled seeing you nod. “Yeah, but like I kinda really don’t care” he gave you a cocky smirk, his hands moving up the side of your dress, making the hem rise just a bit. He hasn’t stopped eyeing you, looking absolutely everywhere. And although you were in public and fully clothed you felt so exposed.

“Jeez just get a room already” one of his friends called out after sipping his beer, the group of them laughing along.

“You heard them” Chan chuckled. “Christian, an order of shots for them on me, just add it to my tab” he yelled before practically pulling you outside to the car.

“You’re so impatient” you giggled letting him lead you.

“You better hope I make it home because I have half a mind to fuck you in the car.” his voice dropping a bit lower.

The hotel wasn’t too far from the bar, but the Friday night traffic leaving downtown at peak hours would make it almost unbearable. He gripped your thigh with his free hand as he gripped the steering wheel with the other.

Before he could pull out of the parking spot in the garage you gently moved his hand up your thigh. He smirked watching your fingers but slowly followed suit, kneading the soft flesh. Letting the coarseness of his thumbs brush against your skin. His grip tightening as he moved the trail up your thigh. letting it disappear under the hem of your dress. The glint from your wedding ring catching his attention. “What are you doing?” he took in a sharp breath watching you. You looked around the parking garage, it was still pretty empty being that it was early in the night.

“Let’s do it here” You bit your lip watching him, he was trying to read your expression, his hand gripping your thigh harder.

“You serious?”

“You’re the one who suggested it” you huffed, losing your nerves and getting shy. “N-Never mind let's just go back to the-”

“I want to” he laughed “I was just surprised” he turned your chin toward him, pulling you into a deep kiss. He could still taste the alcohol on your lips, he smiled feeling you deepen it. He pushed the seat back, giving you room to crawl over the center console.

“Ah!” you winced as your head bumped into the roof of the car, and how clumsy you looked trying to straddle his thighs. He chuckled, rubbing your head softly, kissing your hair. “You ok Baby?”

“I’m fine” you pouted. “I was just a little eager”

“Please help yourself to being eager” he whispered against your lips before pulling you against his full mouth, taking your lips into his. The way his hand wrapped the span of your jaw and neck, always got you going. You lost yourself in his kisses, sighing happily each time he bit your lip.

He gripped the back of your head pulling you closer to him, his lips not letting up on yours until you were gasping for breath. He brushed his nose down your soft skin, leaving little kisses in his trail. His teeth grazing and nipping your skin until he reached your breast. He tugged your dress and bra down to expose your breast, letting his mouth latched on to your nipples. “Mmm…” You closed your eyes as he teased you. Your hips rubbing his hardened cock through his jeans, tightening under the strain. Your wetness pooling in your panties.

He gripped your hips rocking them harder against him, your moans becoming louder at the welcomed friction. “I need to be inside you” his voice straining as you teased him.

You grabbed the hem of your panties and sighed realizing it would be quite the maneuver to try and take them off while straddling him. He chuckled seeing you pout, he could practically see the gears turning in your head. “Keep them on” he moved your back just slightly, slipping his hand inside your panties and rubbing you, you weren’t prepared for his sudden speed. “You're so wet for me” You shivered under his touch as he quickened his pace. “That a girl..” he grinned watching your face contort under pleasure, your moans becoming whimpered as he buried his fingers in knuckle deep, curling in just the right places. Each buck of your hips hitting his sensitive cock that longed to be in you.

He undid his zipper tugging his jeans lower and letting his cock spring forward, your hands wrapping around his base. His body shivered, as he unraveled in your touch. Desperate to feel more of you. And then the reality of your little impromptu sexacape set in. “Dammit… I don’t have any condoms” he winced, physically in pain thinking that he’d just ruined the mood.

“I don’t care” You lifted yourself up, moving your panties to the side, slowly running his head against your slit. “Do you really wanna wait?”

“No ma’am” he held your hips easing you down on him, letting your body adjust to the stretch. He lifted your skirt up, enjoying watching his length disappear inside you. Each and every time he made love to you he learned that this became a new kink of his. A smile tugging at his lips watching you take him inch by inch. Seeing your body shiver and squirm as he stretched you.

He licked his lips as you sank down to his base. Your hand wrapped around the roof handle as you exhaled to how deeply he filled you. “Ah…You take me so good Baby…” his hand slipped down your chest, pressing against your lower stomach. “Should I move?”

You nodded trying to buck your hips slowly, but you were so sensitive to his teasing early. You so close to cumming from him finger you, but you wanted to wait. You didn’t wanna cum with his fingers. You wanted him in you.

Your back arched against him as he massaged your breast , his teeth biting the skin below your collarbones. He gripped your hips tighter, lifting you up with each thrust and leaning further back on the drivers seat, “You feel so good Baby...Like you were made for me” his growled biting your ear softly.

“Ah-Chris please.” You gripped the car handle tighter as he moved to tease and suck on your breast, your nipples becoming more sensitive with each lick.

“I’m not gonna last if you keep begging me like that” he grunted while thrusting into you watching how you came apart for him, how your walls clenched him, your breast bounce, how your lips parted for you to moan his name and how his length disappeared in you. He loved all of it. He loved that you were his wife he loved that this was your life now. “I love you so much…” he cupped your cheeks lovingly making you look into his eyes.

“Please…” you begged him again, moving your own hips faster. “I love you too Chris please cum in me…” you bit your lip to stifle your moan as he snapped his hips faster. “F-fill me up…”

You didn’t have to wait long before Chan followed your own orgasm. He helped you ride yours out for as long as he could until you collapsed on his chest, your body shaking from the over stimulation. Your sweet whimpers music to his ears. “I got you…” he cooed, while rubbing your shoulders. “Relax baby…” he kissed the crown of your head.

He got you cleaned up and made it back to the hotel in record time, his hand never leaving your thigh. He really did love watching your ringed finger play with his hands. A smile tugging at his lips every time he caught a glimpse of it.

As you two made it to the door of your suite he scooped you in his arms. You laughed in embarrassment, wrapping your arms around his neck and squealing his name. “Chris this is so embarrassing” you buried your face in his neck. Luckily the hallway was mostly empty save for a few guests leaving the floor toward the elevator. A few of the whistling and cheering at his display of affection.

“I didn’t get to carry you over the threshold hold when we first got here since I had my hands full with Minseo” he chuckled, kissing your cheek. “Let me just have this”

You peaked up at him hearing how sincere he sounded. You unlocked the door with the key card letting him carry you inside. Your eyes widening at the roses that covered the bed and the path leading to it. A bottle of your favorite wine chilled at the center of the room. “Chris…”

He chuckled. “It’s cliche I know but I don’t get to be this cheesy often.” he set you down lightly, shrinking in himself as he giggled nervously. He wasn’t sure if you were a big fan of big displays of affection like that. He never got to spoil you. He loved your relationship but because of your situation sometimes it felt like you two were a married couple well into your fourth year of marriage and he didn’t want to deprive you of that cheesy honeymoon phase.

“I love you so much…” you grinned pulling him into a kiss, your fingers running softly against his curly dark hair. “I love all of this…”

His nose brushed yours as he gripped your hips, walking you back toward the bed. As your knees hit the edge of the bed he gently pushed you back before covering your body with his.

You two had the rest of your lives to spoil one another with your love. And he was sure he’d never stop wanting to make love to you. Chan never prided himself in too many of his decisions. But he had two that he considered his greatest moments. Having Minseo, and choosing you to be his partner.

You could barely even move your body, every part of you ached and it became frightfully clear that Chan’s stamina was no joke and he’d been holding back for your sake the entire time. You grinned rolling over in his arms to face him. The beautiful pouty face of your husband warmed your soul. He was so beautiful. You ran your thumb against his soft pale skin, pressing a small kiss against his lips. “You finally tire yourself out?”

He smiled sleepily. “Never” he chuckled before leaning closer to you and kissing the base of your throat. “Was I too rough on you?”

“I’ll survive” you laughed, threading your fingers through his hair. He sighed happily mumbling sweet nothings against your skin, leaving kisses in its path. “I know that we were supposed to have today to ourselves but…”

“Hm?” he questioned absently continuing to kiss your skin.

“I miss Minseo” you pouted. “It felt weird not putting her to bed or seeing her face when I woke up...I don’t know if I’m gonna survive another day like this”

He pulled back to get a good look at your face, his dark eyes softening at you. “You are incredible…do you know that?” He was still floored by you. Despite having you in his life for years, he wasn’t sure he was ever going to get used to just how much you loved his daughter. You really did love her like she was your own.

“What do you mean?” you pouted, furrowing your brows.

“Nothing, I just really love you” he pecked your lips again. “How about we have a lazy morning and breakfast and we surprise Minseo and my parents at the amusement park this afternoon?”

“I would love that” you beamed, a bright smile filling your face.

“But before that…” a mischievous smirk rose on his lips as he pinned you under him, your giggles being silenced by his deep kiss.

After a very leisure, love filled morning the two of you dressed and headed to the theme park. His dad made sure to update and facetime you guys often which made it pretty easy to find them at the park. You and Chan hid behind the cotton candy stall, watching Minseo just a few feet away. She was holding her grandpa’s hand while looking at a stuffed animal. A small pout, etched on her soft features as she contemplated the most difficult decision of the day. She was limited to only one toy, this was gonna be a hard one.

“Minseo, did you pick one yet?” her grandpa, kneeled beside her to see things from her view.

“Only one?” she gave him his sincerest pout.

He chuckled, patting her head. “Yes Baby only one, which ones are you stuck between?”

Her little lip protrudes further. “I want the Kangaroo plushie because it’s Daddy…” she crossed her hands over her chest. “But the Koala makes me think of Mama” she huffed before looking back at her grandfather. “I miss them, Can’t I get both?”

Chan’s heart swelled seeing her daughter being so sweet. He chuckled seeing her dad look so flustered dealing with her, he couldn’t help but want to spoiler her. Before his dad could cave you and Chan came out from hiding and cheered. “Surprise!” you held up the cotton candy that was shielding your face.

Minseo’s eyes widened as she darted straight for both of you. “Mom! Dad!” Her dark curly hair bouncing, while her shoes lit up with each step. Her tiny arms hugging as much of your legs as she could. “You’re here!” Chan chuckled picking Minseo up in his arms, kissing her cheek.

You joined the group hug, holding up the cotton candy “Forgive us?”

“Forgiven!” she let out a cheerful laugh as the two of you showered her cheeks with kisses. She looked back at her grandpa. “I don’t need the plushies anymore Grandpa!”

Chan held Minseo securely against his hip, while holding your hand. Leading you both back to where his family was. Minseo was going on about her afternoon so far and all the things she wanted to do with the both of you. You smiled warmly listening to her.

This really was your life now. Your little family that you always thought was temporary. Your safe haven and home away from home. They were yours to keep forever.

It almost felt like it was yesterday that you met Chan, your new neighbor who was frantically asking for your help. The first day you ever saw those warm brown eyes, those deep dimples, that charming smile. You were never one to believe in love at first sight.

But with Chan it was love at first memory.

The first time you heard his giggle and saw how his shoulders went up when he was nervous. The first time you complimented him and his ears turned red, the first time you realized how comfortable he’d gotten with you.

The first time he trusted you and left you alone with his daughter. The first time Minseo showed you her way of making promises. The first time Minseo hugged you tight and told you she missed you. The first time she called you Mom.

It was love at each and every memory, and you couldn’t wait to fall in love more.

Chan looked over to you giving you such a warm smile, he chuckled. “Why are you looking at me like that?” he gave your hand a comforting squeeze.

“No reason, I just love you”

End.

Every time I think I’m done writing them I get inspired again, I love them so much

∘Tags List:

@skzsprinkles @tophuphu @hugs4chan @channieboyo @tonfilm @soobinssmile @cobbiebaexqueen @minnieskz @em0cleo @chwrryeols @binki-g @mythicalamphitrite

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meridiansdominoes · 4 years

Text

So a few weeks ago @thatfunkyopossum introduced me to his Coruscant Guard OC and I absolutely fell in love with him. His name is Grease. Grease is my favorite. I adore him, HENCE I am adding an additional scene into Dominoes that includes him. He might show up a few times in later chapters too, and I’ll make sure to at least give him brief introductions when he does so that anyone who misses this won’t be confused, but this is his original introduction. ANYWAY, here, this’ll be added to chapter uhhhhh 33! The beginning is the same, but it runs right into the extra scene so here ya go!

_______________________________________________________

The mess hall is subdued when they arrive. The chatter is quiet, serious. News travels faster than a forest fire in clone barracks. Hevy grabs his tray and sits down next to Flak, whose face is twisted in distaste.

“I think I’ve lost my appetite,” he mutters, and then jerks when Byte sets his tray down across from them, sliding into the seat.

“Is it always like that?” Hevy dares to ask.

“Not usually. There are better places to take captured criminals, it’s a rare occasion when we have to hold someone here although the brig is sizable—”

“No, not that. Those kinds of… comments, I meant,” Hevy corrects with a wince. Byte snaps his mouth shut.

“Oh,” he says. “That. Yes. It’s true, anyway. He’ll be charged for property damage. Sometimes Thire tries to press manslaughter, but it doesn’t stand legally, so…”

“What!” Hevy hisses, banging his hands on the table and surging to his feet. “You’ve got to be kidding!”

“Hevy, sit down!” Flak demands, grabbing his arm to pull him. Hevy takes a breath. The eyes of every clone in the mess hall are on him, so he lowers himself back to his seat. Byte is looking at him strangely.

“Don’t tell me that’s not something you’ve ever encountered,” he says, and Hevy has to take another deep breath to suppress his immediate urge to smash something.

“It—I… on the battlefield, that doesn’t matter,” he manages to get out. “It’s the front lines, it’s war. There aren’t any charges to be pressed.”

“Hm. Lucky. Sounds so much easier,” Byte says wistfully. Hevy grits his teeth.

“We’re going to fix this,” he says determinedly. Byte raises an eyebrow. He opens his mouth to comment when suddenly he catches sight of something over Hevy’s shoulder and raises a hand.

“Hey, Grease!”

A clone in standard Guard armor jumps at the sound of his name, helmet turning to find Byte. He flinches when he notices the irregular splash of 501st blue and immediately tries to head towards a different table, hands clenched tightly around his tray. Byte leaps to his feet. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes that vaguely reminds Hevy of Cutup and Fives.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he mutters, and goes after him like a shot. Hevy shares a bewildered look with Flak.

“Alright then. Guess that conversation is over,” Flak says slowly, watching as Byte manages to cut the other Guard off. The new clone tries to duck away again, but his movements are hampered by the tray in his hands. He can’t stave Byte off properly. Byte is unfazed by his protests and practically frog-marches his abductee towards their table. A cheerful chirp accompanies their approach. Hevy glances down and blinks when he sees a tiny mouse droid zipping happily at their heels.

“Sit,” Byte orders the other Guard in a light tone. The newbie hesitates for a long moment.

“We don’t bite, I promise,” Flak tells him. The Guard’s shoulders slump. He sighs audibly and drops into the seat next to Byte in resignation.

“I can sense your glare, don’t give me that,” Byte tells him with a grin. “Wanna introduce yourself, kid?”

The Guard heaves another sigh. “Designation CT-3489—”

Byte elbows him in the ribs.

“M’Grease,” the Guard amends, disgruntled. Hevy offers him a smile.

“Nice to meet you, Grease. You a shiny?” Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Byte’s expression flicker suddenly.

“He’s… not a shiny. Not exactly,” Byte says under his breath before continuing. “Grease is a good kid. Real talented with droids. A bit shy, but if you ever need someone to fix up a speeder, he’s your man.”

“The droid is yours, then?” Hevy asks him. Grease glances down, presumably at the droid by his feet. It’s under the table, so Hevy can’t see it.

“Yes ma’am,” Grease answers.

“Ma’am?” Flak nearly chokes. “Uh—”

“Eh, that’s what he calls everyone,” Byte says with a wave of his hand. “Force of habit. He’s not the only one.”

“You sure he’s not a shiny?” Hevy says jokingly. Byte chuckles.

“No, he’s just like that. Right, Grease?”

Grease takes off his helmet just in time for Hevy to catch the exasperated but vaguely fond eye roll that Grease shoots at Byte. Hevy only barely manages to stop himself from making a noise of surprise. Grease looks… oddly young. There’s a mole on his right cheek, and his face is just a little rounder than Hevy is used to seeing on brothers. He must have gotten the good genes. No wonder Byte calls him ‘kid’.

“Grease, huh? How’d you pick the name?” Hevy asks him.

Grease shrugs. “I like working with machines.” The mousedroid chirps in agreement from out of sight. Flak perks up suddenly.

“Oh yeah, Byte mentioned that. You like speeders too, right?”

Grease’s gaze settles on him, narrowing in on the oxygen box on Flak’s chest—an armor design unique to pilots. His eyebrows shoot up in realization.

“Yes ma’am,” he answers, ducking his head a little. Flak’s grin widens.

“Yeah? Maybe some time you’ll have to come look at the bird I’ve been flying. She banks a little too far to the left sometimes, and I’m tired of running recalibrations. It’s gotta be something internal, maybe something with the stabilizers, but I’m not entirely sure. I could use a hand when you aren’t busy!”

Grease nods at him mutely, coloring just a little as Byte chuckles.

“There, see? They’re not that bad,” he urges. Grease shoots him a scowl that is far more endearing than it is threatening. He opts not to respond to Byte’s comment and starts to dig into his food instead with a quiet enthusiasm that Hevy hasn’t seen since…

Huh. Strange.

Hevy hasn’t seen any clone inhale a meal like that since Kamino, when his limbs had ached from unpredictable growth spurts and his stomach had always seemed to be empty no matter how much he ate. Hevy looks at Grease’s face again and feels his blood suddenly run cold.

“Grease… how old are you?”

Byte winces. Grease pauses in-between bites just long enough to tilt his head in Hevy’s direction.

“Eight and a half, ma’am,” he manages. Hevy inhales sharply. Flak hisses out a curse.

Grease is young. Too young. He shouldn’t be out in the field yet. At that age he isn’t even finished growing completely. Byte’s casual address of ‘kid’ is literal.

“Are you kidding me?” Flak gasps. “How the kriff—”

Hevy jerks his head over to stare at Byte, seeking an explanation. Byte sighs.

“Coruscant is… safe. Supposedly. Since we’re not on the front lines and all. They started sending them younger a few months ago. We needed the manpower,” he says softly. Grease nods in agreement.

“But an entire squad was just killed,” Hevy says in horror. “That doesn’t sound very safe to me!” He tips himself back in his seat, reeling in disbelief. The movement makes his legs sprawl out, and his foot taps the mouse droid, knocking it back a few inches. It chitters at him in annoyance.

“Sorry,” Hevy tells it hurriedly. “I just… that’s so young. Forget shiny, that’s… he should still be a kriffing cadet.”

“I’m good at my job,” Grease interjects stubbornly. Hevy clenches his jaw. There’s nothing that can be done to fix this, not right now. Not yet.

“I don’t doubt that,” he replies honestly, and some of the tension in Grease’s shoulders eases away.

“Do you work as a mechanic, then?” Flak asks. Grease shakes his head.

“No, ma’am. I work in the Senate.”

“He’s part of Senator Chuchi’s personal detail. Most of the younger ones get low-risk jobs like that,” Byte says. When Grease scowls at him, Byte holds his hands up non-threateningly. “Whoa, don’t give me that look! I said low risk, not low importance!”

Flak hums.

“That would explain the ‘ma’am’,” he says in amusement. Hevy drums his fingers on the table thoughtfully.

“Senator Chuchi. I’ve heard good things about her, I think. Do you think she could help us with something important, Grease? Is she sympathetic towards us clones?”

Grease frowns at him.

“Sorry, ma’am. Not my place to say.” The declaration isn’t harsh, but it’s firm. Hevy sighs inwardly.

“That’s alright. You’re just doing your job, kid, I get it. Thanks anyway, though.”

For a moment, Grease looks surprised. Hevy sees a hesitant flash of pride cross his face before the young Guard shrugs nonchalantly and hunches in on himself again. Byte reaches out to ruffle his hair.

“Alright, that’s enough forcing you to be social for now,” he announces fondly. Grease wrinkles his nose at him, but there’s also a subtle hint of gratitude in his eyes that Hevy manages to glimpse as Grease gets back to his food.

This is just one more thing that needs to be changed. Grease is eight and a half. That’s too young, no matter where you’re stationed. There are too many problems within the Guard, all out of the clone’s control. Hevy shifts anxiously in his seat and quietly hopes that he’ll be able to help with at least one of them before this is all over.

#dominoes #GREASE IS MY FAVORITE #fanfic

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mrs-i-have-too-many-biases · 5 years

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Bang Chan// Lights Flew by

𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕪 𝕂𝕚𝕕𝕤 ℂ𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤 𝕊𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤

Scenario: Being stuck at the airport with a handsome stranger on Christmas eve doesn’t seem so bad after all.

Genre: Fluff Trope: Strangers to Lovers Pairing: Bang Chan X Writer!Reader Word count: 8,4K Warnings: Love at first sight, hehehehe. (Very cheesy I know)

You sat in the cab on your way to the airport. You had to say goodbye to your beloved city for a few months for a writing job. You are a traveling writer who has the privilege to work under a company who lets you do the things you loved the most: traveling and writing.

You were excited for your newest upcoming project, where you had to travel to Sydney. You were very popular under the young adult readers and they had all were excited for your new project. In the mean time you wanted to see how the Australians spend their Christmas, but you were afraid that you weren’t going to see too much of it, since your company send you on Christmas way to Australia.

You weren’t complaining though, you were already honoured by them choosing you for this big project. You had to write about the beauty of Australia’s underrated places. Places that are special to other people and you were absolutely stoked to be the one who got to write about it.

As you sat in the cab, you were checking your phone to inform your family that you were almost there. They were sad that you weren’t home for Christmas, but they were happy for you that you had gotten yet another big project. You already didn’t life in your home country anymore and your family just missed having you around.

Your family often remind you of how you used to make up scenes and would act them out for their entertainment. They were great memories that you gladly thought back to. Photos made it even better, seeing yourself in an oversized dress, playing the crazy aunt who liked a little drink on a family dinner who makes everyone laugh, genuinely made everyone laugh.

“Ma’am, we’re here. I will help you with your carrier.” “Thank you so much, keep the change.” You smiled at the driver. “Why thank you Ma’am.” He says whilst bowing gratefully. “No, thank you and happy holidays.” You said cheerfully to him before walking towards the entrance of the airport.

It was freezing and you couldn’t feel your toes, even though you had been outside for just a minute. You felt the warmth welcome you as soon as you stepped inside the airport and sighed in content. Finding the place where you had to check in and drop off your carrier also seemed a little harder than you thought, since you kept getting distracted by the beautiful decoration that hung around the airport.

The camera that you kept in your luggage was swiftly taken out into view as you started to photograph every little detail that your eye had caught. For example, the cute elderly couple who were having a cup of coffee and shared a piece of pie, was just too adorable to not photograph. You smiled to them and loved the picture as you showed it to them. Of course, you asked for permission at first and was relieved when they were fine with it.

Now you had to hurry to the check in and drop off your bags. Bumping into people on the way to it, earned you weird looks from others. You apologised quickly to them as you kept speeding through the crowd.

When you finally arrived at the check in, which was almost on the other side of the airports, you sighed in relief. You made it in time, but now you had to look for your passport and ticked that were hiding in your bag.

“Dang you bag with too many pockets.” You whispered to yourself as you kept moving, until you harshly bumped into someone and ended on the ground with a squeal. “I’m so sorry!” You quickly said in Korean whilst bowing. “It’s no problem. Is your camera okay?” The handsome male asked. You looked up to him to speak and caught yourself staring at him. He wore a simple black sweater and ripped black jeans, very simple but very hot as well. You definitely couldn’t deny that.

“I-uh, Yeah! Yes, it’s fine! I got it covered in insurances.” You laughed in embarrassment. ‘C’mon Y/n, keep yourself together. It isn’t like it’s the first time you’ve talked to a handsome guy- Who am I kidding?’ You thought to yourself.

You quickly brushed the situation off your shoulder when the lady called ‘next in line’ and almost ran to her. You were glad that after the small incident everything went smoothly, so you though until you noticed that the same guy was on the same plane as you right next to you, the aisle in between of you dividing the both of you.

“I guess we meet again.” He says with a chuckle at your embarrassed state. What makes you think that he knows you’re embarrassed? Well, hiding your face behind your palm whilst sneaking a look every now and then, plus covering half of your face with your sweater, doesn’t make you seem suspicious at all. No, you certainly wouldn’t look, weird. “Where you heading to?” He asked, making you drop everything and just give him a look in disbelief before you burst out in laughter. “I don’t know, I guess wherever you are going since we are on a plane that’s traveling to Sydney, Australia. So, what do you think.” You asked whilst still laughing. Now it was the guy’s turn to be embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, I’m exhausted and- when are we going to air? I-“ He says quickly to get out of yet another awkward situation. “It’s okay, have a good flight and happy holidays.” You say kindly before you focussed on your own screen.

The flight from Seoul to Shanghai was about two hours long and you had to entertain yourself in that time by yourself, since the plane didn’t provide a tv. Which you found logic, since it was a short flight. You decided to get this flight some sleep, since you wanted to work on some writing as well, since you had nothing else to do.

The hours passed and you had arrived in Shanghai. You now had to wait for your transfer flight.

“Passengers of the flight Qantas QF130, the flight has been delayed due technical difficulties and securities faults. The flight has been delayed by five hours. I repeat passenger of the…”

You groaned to yourself and informed the Hotel about the situation and the chauffeur who was supposed to pick you up, you didn’t wanted the poor person to wait five hours extra for you. You checked your phone and noticed that it was also on the verge of dying. You brought your charger but every wall outlet seemed to be taken by other passengers who were waiting for the time to pass like you. So you just sat there on a random bench at the Shanghai Airport with a notebook in your hands, trying to come up with inspiration to write. You wanted to safe the battery of your laptop to be able to write on the plane, but it seems like it would be a long wait to do so.

You took out your camera, you were glad that you had charged that before you entered the plane in Seoul. You could walk around and look for beautiful thing to capture. Speaking of: “So we meet once again pretty stranger.” The same guy you shared these awkward moments with hours ago.

‘Did he just call me pretty?’ You asked yourself in surprise.

“If we’re going to keep meeting, maybe we should get to know each other’s names?” You smiled, playing along with his little smooth act. And it worked since you saw him fall into a flustered state, making you laugh.

“I’m Chan, as well as Chris. It’s my English name.” The handsome young man smiled as he stuck out his hand for you to shake. You returned the smile and took his hand in yours. “I’m Y/n, nice to meet you.” “Nice to meet you too. I guess we’re stuck here for a while.” He chuckled as he turned to you in the mildly-comfortable chair.

“I guess we are. So, why are you going to Sydney?” You asked Chan after you both sat in silence for a while and both obviously wanted the time to pass by quickly. “I’m going to visit my family for the holidays.” “Ah, I already had a feeling.” You giggled. “Did the accent give it away?” He wiggled his eyebrows as he emphasized his strong accent. “No. Not at all.” You sang jokingly, making him laugh as well. “What about you? Are you also visiting family for the holidays?” “No, I’m traveling for work. I have a writing job, so I was send to Australia for it.” “You have to work on Christmas?” Chan asked you shocked. “Well yeah I guess so, but really I don’t mind. I’ve always been interested in Australia and I’ve heard great things about it from my fellow traveling colleagues, so I was quite excited to go. Didn’t expect it would be around Christmas time though.”

Chan noticed the sad undertone in the way you spoke and, for some reason, started to pity you. He was very hardworking as well, but he knew what it was like to not see your family around times like this.

“What did your family think about you traveling no Christmas then?” He asked genuinely. “They didn’t like the idea, but they still supported me. They know how hard I worked for this and that I love doing what I do. So I will just facetime them tomorrow and ‘spend’ Christmas with them through a screen.” You chuckled.

“Did you already update them on the plane situation?” Chan asked. “Yeah I did it immediately, because my phone is one the edge of dying and all the wall outlets are taken by other people.” “You can use my portable charger if you want to.” He offered before he almost turned his bag upside down for you. “Got it! Here, you can use it.” Chan placed the small object in your hand. “Are you sure? Don’t you want to use it for yourself? I bet you have your own stuff to charge-“ “I have two. I can use the one for my laptop. Don’t worry.” He smiled brightly.

You were taken back by his kindness, but took the charger, since you wanted to stay in touch with your family if something would happen.

You had to try and hide your slightly flustered state from him and go on, but after some time without talking you heard a grumbling coming from Chan’s side and your head shot towards him. He stared in shock at his phone, until he hid his face in his hands and laughed loudly in embarrassment. “You’re hungry Chan?” You playfully asked him. He looked at you shyly as he still had his hood over his head. He nodded his head slightly which made you laugh. Sooner enough your own stomach started to grumble.

Chan started to laugh loudly once again, before he started packing up his bag. “Do you want to for a bite then?” He asked and you happily complied. You packed your own stuff and went to look for a restaurant with the handsome stranger you met hours ago.

The restaurant wasn’t too busy. Who’s going to work or travel on Christmas eve- oh wait. You are. And so is Chan apparently. The restaurant was Christmasy decorated and the Christmas music was filling you with a fuzzy feeling. You and Chan had ordered some juice before you got your diner. “Pineapple juice?” “Yeah, I love it. Would you like some?” “No, I’m good with my raspberry one.” You giggled as Chan did a little happy dance as he drank his beverage.

“Well aren’t you two the cutest!” You two turned to your side to see an elderly couple smiling at the two of you. “W-what?” Chan stuttered in surprise. “You two, aren’t you a couple? I still can remember the day when my sweet husband took me on my first date.” She says with a sweetening smile. “Honey, I don’t think that sweet couple wants to hear such a story from old farts like us.” The man in front of her, assumingly her husband, roared in laughter. Chan and you fell into a fit of laughter yourself. “I would love to hear it.” You said, genuinely wondering and feeling a little inspired. You didn’t notice it, but Chan looked at you in awe as you listened to the elderly couple talk happily about their history together. The way you were immerged into the story had him staring at you for a good thirty minutes, until he caught himself and began to eat again.

He didn’t know what it was, but something about you was just absolutely captivating. “…and then we had three grandchildren. Let me tell you triplets sound fun, but they are very tiring. We love them very much. Those little guys always seem to look for a little trouble, but they help their grandma and grandpa very well, actually we’re on our way soon to meet them. We haven’t seen the three in two years!” “I’m very happy for you. Ma’am, may I ask to write about your story. I’m a traveling writer and my agency might be interested and let me publish it along the other stories that I will create.” “Sure sweetheart! Of course you can!” The pair were delighted by your enthusiasm and adored the way you worked as you took notes of their love story.

The pair were excited when you promised them an early copy of the story before they left and even hugged you goodbye. When you looked back to Chan, he just smiled at you like a weirdo. “What?” You asked him as you took a bite of your now-cold food. “I thought you were a traveling writer.” Chan stated the obvious with a chuckle. “Yes, didn’t we talked about this already?” “I was thinking about you know like a travel guide, but you’re writing love stories?” “I guess I do. My agency asked me to write about people’s favourite places in Australia that aren’t like you know overrated or too crowded. I want to make it personal and have people tell me their story why it’s their favourite place and the history of it. I also wanted to make a Christmas special and see how people in Australia celebrate it.”

Chan was surprised and a few scenes popped into his mind. He saw himself walking by the beaches, enjoying the sunset as you talked. He saw himself sitting with you in his backyard, a cup of tea in both you and his hands as you cuddled up next to each other.

He didn’t know why, but he quite enjoyed the visions.

“I-I could show you around. I-If you wouldn’t mind.” He offered shyly whilst stuttering. “E-excuse me?” You asked, almost choking on your drink.

“Yeah, I mean. My mom probably won’t mind setting an extra plate.” He chuckled once again. “Chan, we’ve known each other for like three hours. I don’t think-“ “Then let’s get to know each other!” Chan’s own spontaneous act startled himself. “What do you mean-“ “There’s so much to do here! Let’s go and do something! I heard there’s a place where we could ice skate!” “But I can’t-“ Chan had cut you off once again and dragged you out of the restaurant by the hand.

Your heart was racing and your cheeks were heating up. You didn’t know where to look or how to feel if this was even right, something just felt like it was. As if it was meant to be.

Chan came back with two pairs of ice-skates after you arrived at the ice rank. He stumbled on his feet as he tried to waggle towards you, looking like a kid who just learned how to walk. You laughed at him, making him look at you in a funny way.

“What? Do I look funny? You’re laughing at me?” He asks playfully. “N-no!” You stuttered in between laughs. “Yes you are! How dare you! Just when I thought that we were getting to know each other.” He cries dramatically. “Stop you big baby and let’s go!” This time you dragged him along as you waggled your way to the rink.

You had the rink to yourselves since it was late at night and almost no one, but the fellow passengers of your flight. You struggled to keep standing on the ice, making you hold on for your life on the edge. Chan on the other hand was speeding back and forth on the ice. “Y/n! C’mon!” “I can’t skate!” You laughed, making Chan skate towards you.

He stood two inches away from you, his face a little bit too much in your personal space, but you didn’t seemed to mind since Chan has been already feeling you some kind of way. He suddenly grabbed your hand and placed them on his arms. “Then hold onto me.” He whispered. Once again, your heart fluttered at his words as you experience a movie like moment.

Chan helped you across the ice and giggled when you almost fell and started to hold on tighter to him. He looked down at you and felt his hard thump harder and louder as he heard you squeal. The music changed from an upbeat Christmas song to a more romantic one. Both you and Chan looked at the music guy, who simply just gave the two of you a thumbs-up.

Chan couldn’t look you in the eye as Mariah Carey blasted through the place. He heard you sing along with the song and played along as he started to sing to you. You were surprised by his skilled voice and kept singing with him. When the song ended, the two of you felt cramps in your feet and decided that you had skated enough for that day.

“Well that was fun.” Chan giggled as he wiggled his toes to get the uncomfortable feeling out of it. “It was. I never thought I could do it.” You laughed. “You were really good! And by the way, I didn’t know you could sing?” “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me Channie.” Another flutter came across his heart as you shot him a playful wink and a smile.

“Chan?” You asked as you were walking through the airport with Chan, still after hours together, on your side. “Yes?” “Did you ask your mother about me joining-“ “Let me call her.” Chan took out his phone and dialled his mother’s number. She answered the phone within seconds.

“Channie! My son! Are you here already?” She asked cheerfully. “You didn’t tell them?” You whispered yelled to Chan who facepalmed himself in disbelief. “I thought I did, I guess I got caught up a little.” He whispered back, scratching his neck whilst chuckling. “Channie? Who is that with you?” You heard his mother’s voice ask and you started to panic as if you were a girlfriend who met her boyfriend’s parent’s for the first time. “Mom, that’s Y/n. We’re both stuck in Hong Kong for hours and then we will be able to get to Sydney.” “Is she your girlfriend?” You were shocked by the loud voice that came from his mother as she excitedly squealed. “N-no! Mom! She’s someone I just met, but I did wanted to asks something that has to do with her.”

“What is it dear?” She asked. “Well, Y/n is a writer that I just met and she’s really nice. She’s visiting Sydney to write about the city and she wanted to write a meaningful Christmas special and I offered to have her staying with us for Christmas. She’s working on Christmas and her family is overseas and I-I thought it would be n-nice. Only if it’s okay with you and dad of course-“ “Of course it is Channie! She sounds lovely! We’ll see you tomorrow then? For how much longer do you have to wait?” “We have to fill three more hours and then we still have a ten-hour flight. So, yeah we will see you tomorrow.” Chan’s heart did a little jump when he thought of you and him being a ‘we’.

After exchanging goodbyes, Chan hung up the phone and did some kind of shiver dance to shake off the nerves. You laughed at him and rubbed his shoulders to calm him down. “You okay there Channie?” “I-I’m fine. I just- never mind. What shall we do next? We still have three more hours to fill.” “I have no idea to be honest.” You chuckled before you two sat in an awkward silence.

An hour had passed, you and Chan had been sitting together in silence, both trying to come up with an idea to do something. Both of your eyes were getting heavier by the second and you were eventually agreeing on taking a nap. You had bought a pair of neck pillows so the pair of you could sleep decently, or well try to at least.

You sat next to each other in the seats near the gate of your flight as you tried to catch on some sleep. Slowly, you moved to the side where Chan was sitting and your head eventually rested on his shoulder. You didn’t know, but he was still awake when it happened. He was closing his eyes as he was guarding the stuff the two of you possessed. He felt his shoulder getting heavier and peeked his eye open to see what happened.

He felt cheesy to say that he thought you looked beautiful as you slept. He also felt a little bit like a creep, but let’s keep this cute, okay?

Chan smiled to himself and went ‘back to sleep’.

About another hour and a half later, both of you woke up from your slumber and this time it was you who felt some extra weight on your body. You wiggled your head slightly as you felt Chan’s cheek being squished to your temple.

You looked to your side and saw that Chan had secured your stuff so that the two of you could sleep peacefully. You noticed his hand resting closely next to you. You had to shake off the urge to hold it, even though it looks so… hold-able?

You looked up and noticed a flight attendant staring at you, making you jump up in surprise and bump Chan in the head. The pair of you groaned in pain as you rubbed both of your temples. “What are you doing-“ Chan was cut off by the flight attended who had been waiting a good five minutes for you to notice her.

“We’re boarding the flight right now, we’re taking off in twenty minutes.” She gently says as she moved on to the next passengers. “I guess we passed time pretty fast.” You yawned as you stretched your body. “Yeah it did.” Chan mutters sleepily. His cheek being puffed up from the nap. Thin lines covering the same side of his face as a leftover from your hair imprints, making you laugh when you noticed them. “What?” Chan asked whilst rubbing his eyes to get rid of his sleep. “Nothing Channie.” You giggled as you gathered your stuff.

He was about to hand you the neck pillow, but you declined quickly. “What it’s yours?” Chan questioned. “I bought it for you though. It’s yours to keep.” You giggled as you put the pillow around his neck, squishing his cheeks all over again.

“Cute.” You murmured under your breath. “What?” “Nothing- I guess, this is a goodbye then?” You muttered, feeling sad.

“Y/n, has that nap erased your memory from the past couple of hours? We’re spending Christmas together, by the way Merry Christmas. I guess we slept our way to Christmas day.” Chan laughed. You turned your neck pillow, that still was resting on your shoulders, around so it could cover your face and cover your embarrassment.

“Let’s go cutie, I bet you don’t want to spend any longer on this airport. We have a flight to catch.” Chan grabbed you by the hand for the umpteenth time that night. “… enjoy your flight.” The flight attended says as you and Chan boarded.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in ten hours?” You giggled as you were about to wave Chan goodbye for now and walk off, but he seemed to follow you. Well at least that’s what you thought. “We’ve met like six or seven hours ago, can’t live without me already?” You joked. “Don’t flatter yourself too much cutie, I’m trying to get to my seat.” “Where do you sit then?” You asked before you stopped at your row. “My seat is right here.” He pointed out to the two-seater where you were also seated.

“No you’re not.” You laughed. “Yes I am.” Chan chuckled confused as he showed you his ticket.

‘He really is sitting next to me.’ You thought to yourself in disbelief. “Why- don’t tell me.” Chan asked when the realisation hits him. “Well, do you want the window seat or?” You laughed as you put your bag in the cabin after you had taken out your laptop and etcetera. “I- you take the window seat, maybe you can get some pretty shots of the flight for your stories? We’re flying towards the sunrise after all.”

“How kind of you Channie, such a thoughtful young man.” You joked before you took a seat.

About an hour or so, both you and Chan had been working separately on your laptops. Chan was producing new lyrics and music for the upcoming comeback that his group and he were preparing for.

You were typing away, feeling inspired with a new Christmas story. And what story could be better that the one you were living in. Meeting Chan by accident, spending hours together in a quite airport, having a great time together even though being still total stranger to one another. It seemed a little too much like a movie. You wondered as you typed how you and Chan would end up. You could decide when it came to your story what end it’d have, but you didn’t wanted to even think about the fact that Chan and you would have to go separate ways eventually. You weren’t sure if you actually believed at love at first sight, it’s a bit too cheesy for you, even though you’re literally a writer, it just seemed a little too much.

You peeked at Chan every now and then and more ideas, plots or scenes came to your mind to write about. He seemed to have this kind of effect on you.

You wouldn’t believe it, even if Chan himself told you that you had a special kind of effect had on you. When he looked at you when you were fast asleep on his shoulder, he felt his heart race, he felt his hands sweat and his breath quicken. You had a certain charm that had him under some kind of spell and he secretly didn’t mind it at all. He was really drawn to you and wanted to know more about you. You gave him ideas for music. Your laugh was like a new melody in his ears: unique and lovely.

He felt like he could listen to it all day. The thought made Chan internally cringe at his own corny thought. Before he knew it, he had finished a new melody and didn’t know what to do with it. The song sounded very sweet and gentle, something that the boys and him didn’t really go for when it came to their music. It was too drastic of a difference, but he couldn’t help but keep wondering what you would think of it. He knew you were busy and probably in a working flow like he was, but he needed to know now, or he wouldn’t be able to work on anything else for the rest of the plane flight.

“Y/n?” He whispered as he tapped softly on your arm. You responded with a hum as you finished your last sentence and looked up to him.

When you had turned your head to face him, his face was inches apart of yours. You gulped loudly whilst your heart raced. “Y-yes?” “C-can you listen to this for me?” Chan asked whilst handing you his headphones. “You compose music?” You asked him, trying to act surprise and like you haven’t been watching him at all.

“Yeah, I’m uh- I like doing it.” It wasn’t a complete lie, since Chan really loved composing music, but he felt like he couldn’t tell you that he was a big Kpop star. He was a little surprised that you hadn’t recognised him, but he was very humble and thought that it might just not be something you may be interested in.

You placed the headphones in your ears and Chan pressed the button with shaky fingers to let you listen to the track, He watched your reactions closely. He swear he saw a literal twinkle in your eyes as soon as the music started. You were smiling brightly at him when it was done and even applauded cutely for him. His heart was fluttering for the umpteenth time when he shot you a smile back and asked you how you had liked it.

“I loved it! I wouldn’t think you were the romantic type.” You giggled slightly before wanting to resume to your own work. “Our little ice-skating date was pretty romantic, wasn’t it?” Chan said smugly, internally not knowing where the frick he got the sudden boost of confidence from. You were wondering the same thing as you looked at Chan in shock, hands covering your mouth as you held back a squeal. “I-I suppose so.” You stuttered before quickly typing away again.

Sooner enough, the ten-hour flight had passed by and the pair of you were pretty exhausted. The nap didn’t do the both of you much and a good sleep was something the both of you wanted more than anything.

But it’s Christmas, so there wouldn’t be a lot of sleeping today. You had existed the plane and gone through the strict security, Australia was also quite known for, but luckily you didn’t look suspicious even though you looked like a mess.

Chan wasn’t doing much better. He had his hood covering most of his face as he walked around with his eyes half open, causing himself to bump against multiple people. You decided to help him out and lead him through the crowd.

“Thank you.” He said cutely as he started to cling onto you by resting his head on your shoulder. “Your welcome, you really should’ve gotten some rest on the flight.” You chuckled as you ruffled his hair. “You should’ve told me so.” He teased. “You’re going to blame me- I’m not your mother.” You laughed, slapping his shoulder playfully, causing him to laugh as well.

“Where are you staying by the way? I’ll come and pick you up.” Chan yawns after the both of you got your baggage. “Well, I’m staying at a hotel at first and I’ll be looking around for a studio apartment or something small around the city, since I will probably be here for a couple of weeks to months.” “Oh, well. If you send me the address of your hotel after resting and freshening up, I will take you to my house.” Chan said without giving the way he delivered the sentence a second thought, which made you look at him funny. “Chan.” “Y/n.” “You’re taking me to your house.” “Yes?” “D-did you just hear yourself?” You laughed out when you saw him freak out. “Not like that!” Chan cried as he frantically tried to explain the obvious.

The two of you end up laughing together whilst walking towards the exit. You went to catch a cab, whilst Chan was waiting for his dad to pick him up. “Don’t you want to meet them?” He had asked. “Channie, I’m meeting them in than 5 hours. I will be fine. Go get some quality time with your family or some sleep.” You yawned before waving him goodbye and stepping into the cab.

After some time you had arrived at your hotel. And you let yourself fall face-first onto your bed. You had called your parents to tell them you had arrived safely and that you had a new idea for a story. “Y/n, dear. You should not work so much and get a man. It’s time for you to be with someone!” Your mother whined, making you groan. “Mom, I already-“ “You what!” “Nothing mom! I have to go! I have a meeting soon! Merry Christmas!” “Merry Christmas too you too honey!” Your mother cheered before hanging up the phone.

You wanted to take a nap, but you also didn’t wanted to arrive empty handed at Chan’s place. You grabbed your camera and left your laptop to charge as you went outside to find something nice. The Westfield mall, where the receptionist advice you to go to, was huge and you were a little overwhelmed by the amount of people who were still rushing through the mall. ‘Last minute Christmas presents.’ You chuckled to yourself. You snapped a couple of pictures of the people rushing and took a couple of notes so that you wouldn’t forget to write about this later on.

After strolling around for about an hour or so, you arrived at a boutique. A glistering necklace in the display had caught your eye. It was very minimalistic, but very elegant. You thought it would make a great gift for his mother. You went along with a watch for Chan’s dad and two gift cards with a generous amount for Chan’s siblings.

Now, you just had to get Chan himself a gift. He was the one who helped you out for a Christmas story in such a short time and you wanted to thank him. You had no idea what to get him. You saw a simple silver bracelet and quite like the look of it. You remembered Chan wearing some silver bracelets on his wrists from earlier at the airport. Which you didn’t notice when you were creeping on him when he was fast asleep on you, no. Not at all.

You bought it as well and went on with your spare hours you still had left until you had to go and meet the Bang Family. It might also be a great idea to look presentable, so you went to get a proper outfit.

You found a cute red dress and went to buy it. The red was quite Christmassy and the dress was quite flowy since it was hot in Sydney around this time of the year.

More time passed by and before you knew it you got a call from the phone that was in your hotel room. “Ma’am there is this young man named Chris, saying he is looking for you.” “Yes, you can send him to my room! Thank you.” You said, before rushing to the room and fixing your face and your dress.

‘Why am I getting so worked up. This is for work purposes. Maybe I should wear something else-‘ Your thoughts had been interrupted by the sound of a knocking. You peeked through the peeking hole and saw Chan standing, wearing a white blouse. The leather-ish jeans looked good on him, and the little red detail he wore with the tie around his neck made him look ready for Christmas.

“Y/n-“ You snapped out of your thoughts once again and swung the door open, surprising both you and Chan.

You stared at each other after and were both at loss for words.

“Hi.” You managed to say after two minutes of silence, which felt more like an hour. “Hi.” Chan chuckled in responds. “You look great.” He added whilst sneakily checking you out. “Thank you, so do you. Wait here, I got to grab my stuff and I’ll be right there.”

“Y-you got us presents?” Chan gasped in disbelief when he saw the Swarovski logo on the bag. “Of course I did. I can’t arrive empty handed, can I?” You giggled as you started to make your way down the hall, but Chan’s grip on your arm stopped you. “You didn’t have to.” “I know, but I wanted to. Your family is letting a stranger stay and gather personal moments and let me write about it. It’s the least thing I could do.” Your smile was genuine and your words were sincere. Chan’s heart was warmed and it wasn’t the Australian heat that had gotten to him.

Moments later you arrived at Chan’s home and you waited together at the doorstep, before going inside. “Are you ready?” He asked. “I guess so, I got this. This is for work. I’ve done this before.” You said to yourself, but Chan of course heard this. His chest tightened at the words of this being just for work. He had always wondered what it would be like to take a girlfriend home with Christmas. Have his family accept her into theirs and to have a great time. Opening presents, eating great food, sitting together and be cute or whatever.

The front door suddenly flung open to reveal a man, who you assumed was Chan’s dad. “What are you two waiting for! Food’s already in the oven, meat is on the grill and the lights are on and ready to be appreciated. Your mother has worked hard on hanging them up. And you must be Y/n.” His dad had a welcoming smile as he brought you into a hug.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr Bang, Chan’s told some lovely things about you.” “I hope nothing too embarrassing, otherwise this evening would be a little awkward.” “Come in! Come in! It’s much more pleasant inside!” You grabbed Chan’s arm softly and followed him inside.

“You will be fine, my family is cool. I promise.” Chan whispered to reassure you. “Is that what you said to every girl you’ve brought home?” You joked whilst giving him a friendly punch. “Let’s just go-“ “Hi! Nice to meet you! You must be Y/n! I’m Chan’s mom.” The woman smiled brightly as she welcomed you warmly as well. It gave you a fuzzy feeling, but that also could’ve been the tiredness from the long flight.

“Come and sit with us.” His mother added whilst leading the two of you to the dinner room, where a younger girl and boy sat, who you assumed where his little brother and sister. “Y/n, these are my younger siblings Hannah and Lucas.” Chan introduced. They greeted you back politely and the evening started. At first, you held yourself back from the conversations and observed the family whilst taking some notes.

Chan noticed you being a little tense or too concentrated in work, so he poked you every now and then to loosen you up. “Chan, I’m trying to work.” You muttered in a whiny tone. “I know, but it’s Christmas and you wanted to experience it the Australian way, so stop writing for a second and enjoy our time together.” Honestly, you should’ve asked for a dollar every time he had made your heart flutter the hours, he had been you, you would’ve been rich by now. You started to engage into the conversation and enjoyed the stories his parents told you from when Chan was younger. You found out that Chan was a Kpop idol and that he hadn’t been home for Christmas for years. You felt bad for Chan that he hadn’t seen his family in so long.

“You never told me that you were an idol! Is that why you were producing on the plane?” “First of all, we met hours ago and yes.” Chan giggled. “Y/n, was Chan overworking himself again. You should tell him that he should keep it easy.” “Overworking? No, we hung out at the airport and he started producing a little, but I have to say that I was working quite some myself. So, I can’t really say anything about it.” You admitted whilst chuckling, making his dad laugh.

“I guess we have two workaholics honey.” Chan’s dad said to his wife. Some more time passed and you all had dinner. His parents were excellent cooks and his siblings made desert for everyone. Ice cream with warm waffles, simple but delicious.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I have brought gifts for you all.” You smiled whilst taking out the bags. “Dear, you didn’t had to.” His mother gasped. “I know, but you are so hospitable and I wanted to show my gratitude for letting a stranger join your Christmas, especially since it’s a special moment that your oldest son is home after so many years around the holidays.” “That’s true, but-“ “Please, just accept them. I bought them right after checking into my hotel.” You laughed before handing the bag to everyone. You held your breath as they all opened their gift. “I’m sorry Hannah and Lucas, I didn’t know what you wanted so I hope a gift card would be fine.” “I-It is- are those number the amount?” Lucas asks with wide eyes when he read the value that the gift card held. “It is!” You chuckled at their shocked faces. “Wow-” “Y/n, this is absolutely gorgeous!” Chan’s mother gasped, whilst holding the necklace in front of her and admiring it. “Y/n, the watch is ravishing.”

You smiled at them in relief before you turned your focus on Chan. “And you?” Chan was holding the bracelet in his hand, staring at it. “I hope you like it. I noticed that you already had some silver ones and I thought this would match, but if you don’t like it you can just say-“ “I love it.” Chan cut you off, looking you seriously in the eye. You gulped and quickly smiled to hide the fact that he was making you nervous.

“Here let me help you.” You took Chan’s hand and placed it in your lap so you could put on the bracelet on him. “Looks good.” You giggled.

The night passed by sooner than you could imagine. The Bang Family were happy to see you and you promised them to send them an early manuscript of the story to get their approval. They trusted you enough to have this information about them as a family.

“Would it be alright then to write about you, since you’re an idol and all?” You asked Chan as he drove you back to your hotel. “I’m sure it will be fine. Besides, they are all good things you will write about us, won’t you?” Chan chuckled as he looked at you with a smug smile, making you laugh. “Of course I will. Your family was indeed lovely. I never knew you were so talented.” The words made Chan physically malfunction at the compliment. “No-“ “Yes! You’re so talented! I mean I haven’t seen that many awards in my entire life! And you did that all by yourself with swimming! And besides that! Your music! Your dad showed me some of your music and it was amazing! I feel almost bad for not knowing you guys. Stray Kids, wasn’t it?” “Stop it, you’re making me blush.” Chan mumbled as he parked the car in front of the hotel.

“Well, we’re here. Thank you for everything. I appreciated and loved every second of being with you and with your family. I also loved having your company at the airport and on the flights.” “We can meet up again if you want to?” Chan suggested whilst, scratching the back of his neck. “W-what?” “I mean, we’re both here for some time and you wanted to see some special spots for yourself that are meaningful to people. And you know me already. I love Australia dearly, especially since I’m not here as much. I could show you around a little. I would love to have you by my side for another thirty hours.” Chan laughed.

You didn’t know what to say and just noticed Chan leaning in closer and closer. Your heart felt like it was throbbing. You started to panic and whipped out your phone, receiving a confused look from Chan. “I- uh- If we should exchange numbers, we can meet up again.” “Right.” Chan laughed before putting his number in your phone, before you put yours in his.

“I guess, I’ll see you around.” “Yeah, I’ll see you again.”

Days had passed and it was now the thirtieth of December. You had gotten some great stories from people you had met.

Right now you were at the beach enjoying the sun when your phone suddenly rang. “Chan?” “I’m sorry for never calling you. My family has been over daily ever since we arrived.” “That’s totally fine. I get that you want to be with them. I’ve been doing well, there are loads of people who I’ve met and gave me inspiring stories. I would love to talk about them to you, but that would cause me a huge phone bill.” “I guess we will have to meet again, where you at right now?” “At a beach café at Manly beach.” “I’ll be there in ten minutes. I finally have some time to how you around.”

Chan arrived sooner enough and you couldn’t fight off the smile that was stuck on your face. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” Chan joked before giving you a hug.

“Shall I show you around then?” “Yes please.” Chan took your hand in his and started to react a familiar scene that happened on the same day you met: he was dragging you around with him.

You didn’t mind.

The longer you were with him that day, the more you realised that you started to have feelings for him. You didn’t know him for that long, but you felt very attracted to him. You even ran into his mom at the mall the other day and she just was speaking so kindly of you. And the fact that she said that Chan couldn’t stop talking about you to his family, made you think even more of him.

Right now, Chan had taken you to a hidden place in the mountains, making you look at him a little sceptical. “You’re not going to kill me, right?” You joked, but feeling a little weirded out. “No, c’mon we have to keep moving. The sun is almost setting and I want you to show it all- watch your steps, we’re moving back down.”

Chan’s hand found his way to your eyes and covered them. “This might be my favourite place in Sydney, besides my home.” Chan admitted, before he removed his hands to reveal a small beach. There was a big tree that hid the beach, making it look a little mysterious, yet romantic.

“How in the world did you find this?” You asked in awe as you admired the view. “One day, I was done with everything. I felt like I needed a break from the world and long story short, I ran away from home. I somehow ended up here and it has been my favourite spot ever since. It gives me a lot of inspirations for music or stories that I’m trying to translate into my music.”

“That’s wonderful! N-not the run away part, but the inspiration thingy.” You laughed awkwardly as you tried to take some more pictures of the view. Chan laughed at how cute you were and started to smile to himself. You noticed him smiling and quickly snapped a couple of pictures of him. You leaned in closer to him to get a better shot of him.

You got surprised when he looked at you through the camera, making silly face that made the both of you fall into a laughing fit.

Suddenly the camera lowered and Chan’s face was the only thing in front of you. Chan panicked and leaned back, trying to sit coolly back, but instead he pressed his hand on his phone, causing it to play music.

A song by Nancy Wilson to be precise.

Maybe it's much Too early in the game Aah, but I thought I'd ask you just the same What are you doing New Year's New Year’s Eve?

Chan gathered all his courage and leaned back towards you. He had been feeling like this the moment he had met you. He felt warm and happy. He felt a sudden adrenaline rush, one that was alike the one he got when he was on stage. And he couldn’t get enough of it. He wanted to be with you more.

He didn’t know where he got the confidence from when he was with you. He felt like a whole different person, yet he felt like he was so comfortable with you. I mean, he brought you to meet his family after knowing each other for what? Six hours?

Chan’s heart was pounding in his chest, he didn’t know where to put his hands, but your cheek seemed the right place for now.

Maybe I'm crazy to suppose I'd ever be the one you chose Out of a thousand invitations You received

His soft hands were cupped on your cheeks and his thumb stroked your face as you looked each other in the eyes. He seized the moment and pressed his lips against yours. His lips were soft and plump against yours. You wrapped your arms around him and brought him in closer.

Aah, but in case I stand one little chance Here comes The jackpot question in advance…

“…what are you doing on New Year’s Eve?” He murmurs against your lips breathlessly. “Nothing much, why?” You whispered back. “Got anyone to kiss at midnight?” He smirked. “N-no what-“ “Wow. You're gorgeous. My new year's resolution is going to be to make you my girlfriend.-“ “Shut up and just kiss me you cheese ball.” You giggle before pressing your lips against his one again. Both having the feeling that this was all meant to be.

Day 1/9 of the Stray Kids Christmas Series

Gif isn’t mine.

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rin-archives · 4 years

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God’s Menu | Chapter 4: Mistake

“Kim Jennie and Minhee Jeon.”

The male staff who looked through the names on the list put a mark that both of you have arrived. You were waiting to see if the guy would recognize you but he was so busy doing his job that he hardly looked at either of you for more than a second.

“Is it possible for us to be seated together?” Jennie asked with a smile on her face.

“Of course, ma’am. Right this way please.” he led both of you to Jennie’s table which was where the couches were. Your eyes slightly widened when you saw the spot. Jennie was going to take all of that for herself if she didn’t ask you to sit with her. “Here you are.” Both of you took a seat next to each other and settled yourselves down.

“Would you like us to serve the appetizers?”

“Yes, please. That would be wonderful.” Jennie smiled again until the waiter left. “Ugh, my cheeks hurt from smiling too much.” she cupped her cheek with one hand and started massaging them. Sometimes you wonder how she can be sophisticated and adorable at the same time. “You seem to be a natural though.” you said.

“Well, in the industry that I’m in, I have to keep smiling and put on the best attitude.” she giggled, taking the glass of water in front of her and took a sip. “You were looking at him for a long time. Actually, not looking - you definitely were staring. Do you fancy him?”

Your cheeks flushed out of embarrassment and you quickly shook your head. “It’s not like that. It’s just...he was one of my customers a few weeks back. He and the other two guys kept coming to the cafe. If not him, just one of the other two.”

“Oh? Could it be that the cafe is near here?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe? I don’t explore during my break.” Jennie shook her head in disapproval. “You get an hour break and you don’t even go out? Not even for a walk?”

“I don’t have the time. I spend that hour getting started or finishing on homeworks or projects.” she sighed again. “You need to take it easy once in a while. I know that we work in different environments, but you’re going to burn out first before I do. That needs to be fixed.”

You were about to say something until your appetizers were served by a different guy this time. He had a serious look on his face but you thought it’s because he’s working. But he also had this cold aura around him. Jennie caught you staring in which she cleared her throat before reaching for her glass again. You snapped out of it thanks to Jennie and you also drank your embarrassment away.

“I’ll order us some wine. Looks like you need it.” you heard her chuckle. She called the attention of the waiter who served their appetizer and ordered a pink moscato wine.

30 minutes into the soft opening they had closed the doors since they had expected their guests to be in the restaurant already. The lights dimmed down and you saw another familiar face who stood on to the makeshift stage holding a microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for coming to our soft opening. We hope our appetizers are to your liking. My name is Bang Chan, the owner and founder of The Haven. You can call me Chan for short.” Chan smiled the brightest smile you’ve ever seen and it made him show his dimples.

“I believe we have all our guests that we’ve invited. We will be serving the main course in a bit. We hope everyone enjoys their meal and if there’s anything you need, our waiters will be happy to serve you. Have a good dinner everyone.” After his speech, everyone applauded and he went to the back.

The main course was served to every table. When the main course was brought to your table, you couldn’t ignore how appetizing it looked. It looked like it was perfectly cooked because it smelled great and it was decorated beautifully. Your mouth was watering from both the smell and how it looked. It was your first time eating a meal that’s probably worth more than your tuition fee at university. The wrong feeling in your gut had completely vanished and taken over by your stomach grumbling. If this is what it’s like to eat in a fancy restaurant like this, you didn’t want to make any regrets and waste time on contemplating if this was really okay.

Ever since you started living independently, you only knew how to cook the easy ones. But being someone who didn’t really have the time to buy ingredients you settled for microwavable meals - which wasn’t healthy still.

Jennie who had already started eating caught you staring at your food. She wasn’t sure if she should be worried that you weren’t eating but she knew why you were acting like this. Like what she said earlier, they work in different environments and live in different environments, so she can understand why you looked so stunned. You got your senses back and finally started eating.

The food was delicious - no it was beyond delicious. From the appetizers to the main course, it tasted amazing. Everything just melts in your mouth and you had no trouble chewing and swallowing what you ate.

Time passed and you were just about to be served your desserts. According to the menu, the dessert was going to be brownies with your choice of ice cream flavor on top. Before they were served, you noticed a bunch of security heading towards the entrance. A couple of other guests noticed it too as some were trying to take a peak from their tables by stretching their heads. Meanwhile you and Jennie were just looking at each other wondering what was happening.

“I wonder what’s going on…” you mumbled.

Chan came back on stage to assure everyone that the situation outside is being taken care of and they were about to serve the desserts.

“I don’t think I can take another bite.” Jennie sighed feeling full while drinking water from her glass. You on the other hand were determined to finish your last brownie. The brownie tastes so good and it just melts in your mouth. It was not too soft, not so moist and not too dry - which for you was the perfect brownie. You were proud of yourself for finishing everything while Jennie was shocked that you were able to finish all the food that was served.

“Where does all of that go?”

You were about to answer her until the - approached your table. “Excuse me. Oh-” it looked like he recognized you for a moment.

“Are you Ms. Jeon Minhee?” You gulped but tried not to be obvious about it. “Yes.”

“What’s going on?” Jennie asked, she was ready to fight back if she had to.

“I’m sorry to disturb you ma’am, would you mind following us to the back please?” he said. You and Jennie looked at each other worriedly. You were about to stand up but Jennie stopped you. “Not until we know why you need to speak with her to the back.” she said, unleashing her stuck-up attitude. Before he could answer, Chan came forward with a calm expression on his face. “It’s okay Changbin, we can talk to them here. But we’ll let the other customers leave first.” He said, which you and Jennie agreed to. Chan personally served you both coffee while you waited.

You waited for about half an hour for the customers to leave with Jennie trying to keep her cool. Once it was just the two of you, the waiters closed the restaurant doors and shut the blinds. Chan, Changbin and another guy that looked familiar to you too - approached you and Jennie. “Our apologies for keeping you both here but there’s been an issue in regards to the invitation that was sent to Ms. Jeon Minhee.”

Uh-oh. This is what you were worried about from the moment you received it. “What seems to be the issue?” Jennie asked before you could. Chan looked at you with the same calm expression as before. “You’re not Jeon Minhee the actress, photographer and a model?” You gulped. There it was. It was only a matter of time until they found out that you weren’t the right Jeon Minhee they invited. “No, I’m not…” you responded timidly.

“The other Jeon Minhee arrived earlier and sort of caused a scene earlier. That’s why we had to talk to you.” Chan continued to explain. “Well, certainly this isn’t her fault - right?” Jennie eyed them all. “Jennie, it’s okay. Why don’t you go home first.” you timidly smiled at her.

“I’m not leaving you behind-”

“Really. It’s fine. I’ll text you later.” you insisted that she goes home first only because you didn’t want to be more embarrassed. Jennie dejectedly sighed, got up from the couch with her bag and walked to you for a kiss on the cheek. “Just say the word and I’ll bring the other girls here straight away.” she whispered quickly before finally leaving the restaurant.

After watching her leave, you turned your head back to the three young men. You stood up and gave them a 90 degree bow which they were taken aback with your action. “I’m sorry! I tried to tell you through email to confirm if you correctly invited me. Mr. Han said you did and I thought I was in the clear.” you rambled all of that in one go. Chan and Changbin looked at the third guy next to them - who you assume to be the one named Mr. Han - gave him a certain look that said “why didn’t you tell us”.

“I’m sorry about this ma’am, but you’re gonna have to pay for all of this.” Han suddenly said. You stood straight again with widened eyes. “W-what? But -- “

“Hold on, hold on. It was our fault, so we’ll think of a way to settle this.” Chan quickly spoke up. He looked at you with a soft smile. “How about we talk to you about this tomorrow morning? Does it work for you?” You nodded rather quickly. “Great. Can we meet you back here at 9 AM?” You nodded again.

“Okay, then that settles it. If you could follow Hyunjin, he’ll escort you outside and call a taxi for you.” You turned around and saw a really tall man with long blonde hair waiting for you with a small and friendly smile.

“Alright. I’m really sorry for the trouble.” You bowed again before getting your belongings and exiting the restaurant with Hyunjin.

Once you were out of sight, Chan sighed and looked at Jisung with a straight face. “Seriously?”

“Sorry hyung. I should’ve consulted you.” Jisung looked down feeling sorry for his mistake. “Forget about it. We have to think of a way to make it up for the real Jeon Minhee and think about the situation with that girl.” Chan patted his back, assuring him that it was alright and mistakes happen.

“You know...I feel like I’ve seen her somewhere before.” Changbin said as he also thought you were familiar to him.

masterlist | chapter 3 | next

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thecatwhogrins · 5 years

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Brought Back (Part 1) (Obiyukiweek19: Kindness)

Here’s my first entry for this Obiyukiweek!

Please enjoy! :)

Shirayuki woke up in a daze in the middle of the night. The clock indicated that it was three in the morning, not exactly what she would call a reasonable time to wake up. She rubbed her eyes and stared at her room, mystified.

Something had woken her up, but what?

As she started to settle back in, a loud banging noise wrecked the silence like a bulldozer.

Shirayuki clutched her sheets, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She shrugged into her bathrobe. The infernal sound was coming from her door. Shirayuki hoped that if she pretended that she wasn’t home, whoever it was would go away. Not only was this a very strange time to knock on someone’s door, but this also reminded her of all the terrifying stories Yuzuri had told her about people getting killed while they lived alone.

The loud banging started up again, even louder than before.

Resolution replaced her fear and she made her way to the door. She silently turned on her lamp. The person knocking wasn’t letting up, and the idea of having to call the police made the stone weigh heavier in her stomach. She shuffled towards the door, hoping any of the neighbors in the apartment complex would come out to see who was making all the racket, but no one came out.

She opened the peephole and saw a tall man with gray hair and a slight scar upon his cheek staring at the door angrily. She jumped when he suddenly yelled:

“Obi! I know you’re in there! Come out here, you son of a bitch!” the stranger looked almost out of his mind. Shirayuki thought he must be drunk.

“Sir, this “Obi” you’re looking for doesn’t live here,” she called out through the door carefully.

Just as the man spoke again, one of her windows started shaking slightly. Shirayuki watched with a dry mouth as a man opened it, folding himself into the frame and unfolding himself into her living room. He was tall as well, wiry, with spiky hair, his black shirt was stained with a liquid that surely wasn’t water and his face was more bruised than a WWE fighter, swallowing his strange eyes in a valley of purple tinges.

He did not notice her right away, as he groaned in pain and uttered a silent curse when his hand brushed his swollen face.

“God damn, he did not miss my face…” he did not finish his sentence once he noticed Shirayuki, who promptly squeaked in surprise and fear.

They stood, both frozen, waiting for the other to say something first. The man’s eyes slid over her apartment, taking everything in, from her libraries filled with books to the brim, to the cozy but run-down sofa, to the lacy drapes and vast array of plants that populated most of the free square inches.

“I’m sorry miss, it seems I’ve entered the wrong apartment,” the man said, his voice calm, as if not to induce any fear into her.

Only one incredulous thought raced through Shirayuki’s head in that moment:

“We’re on the fifth floor?” she answered, bewildered, all her anxiety exploding into that one sentence.

“Oh, it seems I’m your upstairs neighbor, I live on the sixth floor,” he tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace.

Their exchange was halted when another wave of knocking came from the other man, still abusing Shirayuki’s door.

“Oh great, he followed me. I’ll lead him away, don’t worry. Sorry for… all of this,” he gestured vaguely around himself and winced as the man pounded at the door, hollering.

He bypassed her, as she stood there, trembling, but her curiosity was now blooming since the man didn’t seem to want to hurt her. Shirayuki gathered her courage and asked softly:

“Is… Is that man trying to hurt you?”

Obi seemed to pause for a moment, thinking.

“Yes… He is,” he answered, his eyes holding hers, as if to convey that he wasn’t lying. Shirayuki nodded her head resolutely and walked to the front door. This could be the worst mistake of her life, but the man didn’t seem like he wanted to hurt her, whereas the one on the other side of the door looked much more threatening.

She opened the door slightly, keeping the chain still in place, preventing the man from opening it any further.

“Hel… Hello, it seems you’ve come to the wrong apartment. Please leave, if you continue, someone might call the police…” Shirayuki looked up at him for a split second and the face she saw wore a mask of confusion and irritation.

“Ma’am, is Obi here? I saw him…” he insisted, his eyes trying to peer behind her slight silhouette, into her house.

“I don’t any person by that name, you’re mistaken sir. Now please… Please leave,” Shirayuki tried to sound as intimidating as possible.

The man glared at her. Then, with one last glance at her flat, he turned away, grumbling, towards the staircase. Shirayuki’s legs were shaking so bad she thought she might fall to the ground right then and there. She clutched her heart and almost jumped when she heard the other man move behind her, unintentionally towering over her, peeping through the peephole.

“Hm he’s gone, that’s good,” he mumbled to himself.

He then seemed to realize how close he was standing next to Shirayuki and backed off, palms up, trying to appear as unthreatening a man with a battered face could look, which wasn’t much. From up close, she could see that also had a few scars on his body, some peeking out from his shirt, others marring his face. She could tell that this man had seen a fair amount of fights.

As silence settled once more, Shirayuki didn’t know what to do. Kick the man out? But what if the other man was waiting around the corner? Shirayuki felt an impending headache loom.

She then noticed that the man was swaying slightly on his feet.

“Oh, please sit down,” she hurriedly said, motioning him towards a straw chair near the dining table. Having a stranger in ones’ house is pretty bad, but if he faints, then there will be even more trouble.

He limped towards the chair and sat rather ungracefully on it, his whole body betraying his exhaustion.

“Are… Are you Obi?” Shirayuki asked, passing him a towel full of ice she had fetched in the kitchen.

“Well, that is one of my aliases,” he explained with a smirk before adding: “And what is your name Miss?”

“It’s Shirayuki. My name’s Shirayuki,” she answered, “what just happened?”

“Um… I owed that man some money,” he smiled sheepishly. Shirayuki squinted at him, trying to figure out whether he was lying or not.

Silence draped itself over them, pleasant, if only slightly awkward. A few minutes passed in this way, Shirayuki had so many questions bouncing around in her head she wished she could ask but couldn’t find the words to do so. Obi suddenly stood up.

“Well Miss, it’s been a pleasure. Thanks for the towel and… well, saving me,” he winked, “he’s probably gone by now, so… I should probably go.”

But as soon as he took a step, he winced in pain and stumbled, falling like a log.

Shirayuki panicked, her hands hovering over his body for moment, till a groan of pain snapped her back to her senses. She turned him over, cautiously, and checked him, noticing an alarming dark stain growing on his side. Judging from the other stains, it was blood, and fresh at that. She peeled the shirt back to reveal his side and gasped in horror, he had been stabbed.

She stood up, intent on calling the ambulance, when Obi rasped: “No, it’s okay, I’ll be fine, it’s just a little cut.”

Shiaryuki scoffed and reached for the phone.

Before she could even blink, he was behind her, his callused hand lightly but firmly restraining her from using the phone.

“I promise I won’t hurt you, and I know like that sounds exactly like something someone would say just before they hurt someone, but I’d really rather not get the police involved,” he whispered.

Shirayuki could only nod, heart leaping in her chest.

“Thank you,” he sounded relieved.

He left with no other word, closing the door softly behind himself.

As soon as he left, stillness took its rightful place once more and Shirayuki stood there for a while, bewildered, before she finally went back to bed, her mind reeling. For this to happen on her only day off, she honestly believed her luck was rotten.

The next morning Shirayuki woke up, her head pounding from lack of sleep. She sleepily went to make herself a cup of tea to wake herself up, eyes half-closed, trailing her covers behind her like a fluffy cape. As she woke up more and more, memories of what happened last night came back to her, like a half-remembered dream being conjured up once again.

Shirayuki wondered if that man, Obi, was really her upstairs neighbor. She had never seen him before this. Had he just moved in recently? She was so distracted by her thoughts that she did not notice that she was running late for work.

Garack was going to kill her.

“For having had a day off yesterday, you sure do look like crap, my dude,” Yuzuri remarqued, coffee in hand.

“Thank you for pointing it out, Yuzuri,” Shirayuki sighed, her whole body felt heavy.

Working in a morgue was considered by many to be a strange job, to be of the living but also constantly working alongside death.

Shirayuki didn’t adore her job but she had grown up constantly surrounded by death and it no longer scared her or disgusted her. It was merely another chapter in the journey. treating the dead respectfully was one of the last things a living person could do to honor their memory. She had learned this very early on, thanks to the fact that her grandparents owned a funeral parlor but also due to the death of her mother.

Death was almost an old acquaintance by now.

Obi woke up in a haze, head pounding. His whole body ached, and he knew that the moment he moved it would get worse, but his stomach was aching and demanding to be fed immediately. He rolled over, basking in the blissful silence. He knew it wouldn’t last, but he hoped it would go on for a while.

Boy, was he wrong.

“Sir, if you could just tell my wife…”

“Boy, now you listen to me…”

“Please find…”

Voices swarmed him like a tidal wave, some were louder than others, permeating the air. Shutting them out wasn’t an easy option. He had learned over the years that it required a lot of concentration. Or booze. Concentration he currently did not possess, as his whole body screamed in pain from the beating of the night before and as his stomach ate itself away. And as for the alcohol, well... he could maybe arrange that.

“Shit,” he mumbled and padded into what one would have once called a kitchen, but its current state of cleanliness indicated otherwise.

The voices followed, as they always did, and Obi tried his best to ignore them.

Another day in hell, it seemed.

The thing with being a necromancer that nobody ever told him, is that yes, even though you can summon the souls the of the dead, more often than not, the dead are the ones who want to communicate. So, they find people who can hear them, and chatter away.

#obiyukiweek19 #kindness #obiyuki #fanfic #myfanfic #mentions of death #akagami no shirayukihime #ans snow white with the red hair #snow white with the red hair #necromancy au

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jimlingss · 6 years

Text

Tell Me Lies [Prologue]

Prologue | Part 1 | Interlude | Part 2 [Finale]

➜ Words: 3.3k

➜ Genres: ????? (ooooh it’s a surprise), Spin off of ????

➜ PSA: don’t steal.

Blind. People have always been easy to trick, caught within the bubble of their lives, in the midst of pretentious phone calls or frivolous conversations, masking perfection for others, leading their chaotic lifestyles with short attention spans. They fail to notice their own surroundings, the little details that go unnoticed; from cheeks that are too hollow, marks of hunger and exhaustion made, to the clothes that are frayed at the hem, a trace of the second-hand material. When people are happy and comfortable, there is no need to pay attention to the world outside. “E-excuse me!” A young lady’s shoulder roughly collides with another. He’s rushing past, head downcasted, face covered by his black hoodie, and he doesn’t even spare a single glance or give an apology. She huffs out in annoyance, left to pick up her belongings off the ground. You immediately stand from your seat, scowling at the stranger whose backside is disappearing, and you lean down, helping the woman. “Some people can be so rude.” “Tell me about it.” In the grand restaurant, the noisy background of business conversations and meaningless chatter, the female laughs, easing the tension between her brows. The jewels of her necklace and the diamond on her finger sparkles in the chandelier’s shimmer. She glances up at you as you begin to shuffle her pens, paper, lipstick tubes and tissues back into her purse. “Thank you for your help.” The both of you rise to your feet again and you give her designer handbag back. “No problem, Ms. Jeon.” “Oh.” She’s surprised at how you directly address her, and she pushes a curl away from her face, batting her lashes once when she blinks. “I’m sorry. You are..?” “I’m Seulgi, Kang Seulgi. I think my dad and your husband are business partners...or something like that. I dunno.” You give a sheepish smile, shrugging your shoulders slightly. “We met a while back.” “R-right!” The pretty woman, no more than twenty-five, blushes from embarrassment, trying to recall the last dinner party. “I can’t believe I don’t remember. I must be getting old.” “No, you’re not.” A giggle bubbles from your mouth and she smiles. “We all forget things sometimes, it’s okay. Actually, speaking of my dad, he’s coming with my mom in like five minutes. We’re having a family dinner today. They’re treating me since I’m turning fourteen on the weekend!” “That’s so sweet,” she coos, her heart melting at the thought. “Congratulations, for turning fourteen, sweetheart.” “Thank you.” Your arms are behind your back and you’re standing on the tips of your toes, rocking back on your heels every once in a while. Your pink dress is a bit wrinkled, the bows on it scrunched but it adds to your soft charm. “Do you actually mind if you sit here for a moment? They should be arriving soon but I don’t think they know where I’m sitting. I’d just go grab them.” “Oh, of course. I have a date with my husband tonight, but he isn’t here right now.” The young woman scans the premise and then offers another smile. She takes a seat at the round table and gestures towards you. “Go ahead.” “Thank you so much.” You dip your head in appreciation, ready to turn on your heel. “I’ll be right back.” The strides of your steps are calm and constant. There’s no last glimpse taken as you weave through the tables and chairs of affluent people, marching straight out of the door. It takes a mere five minutes. Five minutes before the waiter saunters to the table and slaps down a long piece of paper. “This is your bill, ma'am.” “Bill?” The young newlywed immediately frowns. It’s almost comical, the way she stares up in confusion at the server. “There must be a misunderstanding. This table hasn’t ordered yet.” The man in the red vest isn’t impressed, his brows lifting, and he clears his throat once. “There isn’t a misunderstanding, ma’am. Three people sat here and ate an entire meal, and we just cleared off the table a moment ago. The bill still needs to be paid.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She becomes defensive, hugging her purse to her chest and sitting straight to counter him. “I’m not even supposed to be here. My reservation is over there. I’m just sitting here because—” “If you can’t pay the bill, then I will have to grab the manager, ma’am,” the waiter interrupts in a clipped tone, adamant and impatient. She is completely baffled, muttering incessantly about the regrets the entire restaurant will have when they realize their mistake and just how important she is. The woman opens her leather purse, nearly ripping off the zipper in irritation, and she fishes for her wallet. The search begins with fury before it morphs to bewilderment and then into desperation. She’s scrambling for her belongings, dumping out the items inside onto the white-clothed table and opens her mouth before closing it like a fish out of water. In the meanwhile, the waiter is tapping his foot, arms crossed, and unimpressed at the whole ordeal. “I—...I don’t have my wallet!” She nearly screeches and several patrons turn around from the noise, meal disturbed by her loud volume. “I dropped all my stuff earlier and—...and—” The blindness pulls back like a curtain, light piercing through her pupils and finally, she can see. Realization hits her like a bullet train, the woman finally becoming aware of her surroundings, but it happens too late. Now, not only is the waiter waiting for her, the owner of the establishment has also paraded on the scene and all the customers are staring from their peripheral vision. People are blind— That makes deception all too easy. Survival of the fittest and every man for themselves. In the short years that you’ve been on this planet, if there’s anything that you learnt, it would be to protect yourself first and foremost. If you don’t take care of yourself, no one else will. But, maybe there are two exceptions to that rule. “Y/N!” There’s a shout of your name from the distance and you leap down the hill, making your way to the two boys standing by the empty railway tracks. One of them is blonde, ruffled bangs almost in their eyes, black hoodie hanging off his frame and the other is brunette, his crinkled eye-smile already welcoming you back. “What the hell took you so long?” The former bemoans, lowering his shoulders and giving you an exasperated expression. “We were waiting for ages.” “Shut up, alright?” You move to dig your hands into your pockets, used to the movement, but you forget the tight attire that you’re wearing. “God, all you do is complain. You’re so annoying.” He stamps his foot childishly. “I do not just complain!” “Yeah, you bumped into her, whoop-de-doo. Anyone can do that job, dumbass.” You roll your eyes before moving to scratch your arms. The frilly material was grating against your skin and the shivers of the cold wind weren’t helping. It was times like these you wondered why the damn sun didn’t do its job, even when it was so bright outside. “Ugh, this dress is so itchy. I hate pink! Where did you even get this thing?!” The corner of his lips curl. “Where your mom left you — the dumpster!” A muscle in your cheek twitches and you jump to tackle him down. “I’m going to kill you, Kim Taehyung!” He giggles, a box shape plastered across his face and swelling into his cheeks. His legs tremble as they try to hold him upright, even when you’re on his back, pounding him with your little fists. “I’d like to see you try—!” “Will you two stop fighting already?” The brunette boy forcibly peels you off and drags you back on your feet. He holds the two of you apart and frowns. “It’s giving me a headache. Taehyung, you’re not being funny. Stop it.” “You’re always taking her side, Jimin!” The shrill protest is ignored and he turns to you. “And Y/N, stop being so mean to Taehyung.” You openly scoff. “He started it!” “Y/N.” His brown irises meet yours, timbre dropping a pitch, attempting to sound stern and intimidating. It doesn’t really work. At least not with his squeaky voice and adorable appearance, chubby cheeks, cute eyes and the entire nine yards. Still, you know better than to make him angry and you quiet down. “We’re a team and you guys fight too much. How are we supposed to get anything done? It feels like I’m doing all the work here.” Jimin lets out a dramatic sigh. “You’re both too immature.” “Immature?!” It’s an explosion of rage and shouts. “Excuse me?!” You scoff again. “The only thing you do is look at the reservation list and find people's names. Okay, I’m the one doing all the work here in this little ‘team’.” At the same time, Taehyung knocks his head back, staring up at the cerulean sky. “Wow, I can’t believe you’d say I’m immature. I know I daydream a lot and I do a lot of dumb things, but I’m not stupid, you know. All of this was my idea anyways, you guys are just helping.” “Okay, okay! I get it.” Jimin sheepishly grins, holding up his hands for mercy. “See? You two can work well together...if you’re trying to gang up on me.” “Psh.” The trio of you begin walking, following the train tracks like you so often do, letting it lead you to the next destination. Regardless of the endless bantering and the petty arguments, it’s times like these that you feel the most at peace. It’s as if the entire universe only belongs to the three of you. “We only work well together if you make us.” Your eyes roll once more. “If it weren’t for you, Jimin, I probably would’ve already punched him in the face.” While you may be barely scraping by, you’re happy. There’s no need to pay attention to the world outside when you’re stuck in your bubble, the little world that belongs to kids who are no longer kids but not adults yet either. And maybe in that sense, you are also blinded. “Uh, you throw like a girl.” His little smirk provokes you even more and you take a step forward. “You wanna say that again?” Like the coward that he is, Taehyung hides behind Jimin, and the latter raises his arm before you can launch. “Enough, stop it. I get it, I get it.” Jimin, the official peace-maker, exhales when you both return by his side without scraping each other’s faces into bits. “Let’s talk about something more important. What did you get Taehyung?” He hums, pulling out a wad of cash from his pocket and counting through the bills. “Two hundo.” People in luxurious restaurants outright leave tips on the tables and it’s easy to snag, especially for Taehyung’s slippery hands. On the other hand, you carry a different set of talents, primarily in speaking and charming others, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t slick either. “She got a bunch of cards we can’t use.” You pluck the shiny plastic rectangles out from the woman’s wallet and toss them behind your shoulder, examining every inch of the leather. “Oh, six hundred in cash. Not bad.” “So, that’s nine hundred. We get three hundred each,” Jimin deducts and you begin dividing the cash up evenly. “That, plus the entire meal we ate.” Taehyung smiles, pocketing his share of the money and kicking a rock with his worn sneakers. “Should last us the rest of the week.” “Hmm, I’ll search for a different place.” You’re already beginning to plan for the next trip, trying to consider all the locations that you’ve been to before. Typically, Jimin’s the mastermind behind the plans, strategizing and making arrangements, but lately you’ve been helping him. With time, things are becoming more complicated. “We should...aim higher.” Taehyung picks up a stick to hurl, throwing it far like he wants a non-existent dog to catch it, and then quirks his head over to you. “What do you mean?” “I dunno.” You shrug. “I just...I don’t know how long this can last us. There’s only so much petty theft and scamming we can do and there’s only so many restaurants and people to steal from. Every other day, we’re doing this and I think we should...invest.” Jimin stares at you. “Invest?” “We should do something bigger.” The more you talk about it, the more excited you get and so does Taehyung. You open your arms wide to the horizon of the sky, letting the sun beam down on you even if it doesn’t provide much warmth on this chilly day. The possibilities seem endless and your blind confidence extends even more so. “Like one giant scheme and be done with it! We wouldn’t have to keep stealing little by little, and we’d be rich!” “I like the sound of that.” Taehyung’s humongous grin is infectious, and he turns to his other partner in crime. “What do you think, Chim? One big scheme, and we’d be swimming in cash! We’d buy a mansion somewhere in the mountains or something! All three of us living it up for the rest of our lives!” “Maybe. We would need to plan a lot though.” Jimin smiles and you both watch as the gears in his head begin turning. “And as usual, we would only take from criminals or the wealthy. Not the poor or innocent.” “I think we can agree on that,” Taehyung says, and you nod along. It goes quiet for a moment, Jimin considering the prospects while you wonder about the future. Then suddenly, Taehyung stops in his tracks. “Oh my god.” “What?” “What’s wrong?” The pair of you are immediately on alert. The boy’s jaw has dropped, his eyes squinted into the distance like he thought of the best idea that’ll land everyone into a whirlwind of success but— “That cloud looks like a perfect square! Do you see that?! Look!” He’s pointing to the sky and then takes off, running and shouting about how it’s even possible. You and Jimin exchange looks and mutually sigh. “Why is he such an idiot?” “God knows.” The boy beside you laughs, a chirpy sound that rings pleasantly in your ear, and after a moment, he peels off his navy blue hoodie, draping the fabric over your head. “Put it on.” “What?” His scent has completely enveloped you but you tug on it, holding it in your hands to stare at him. “What about you?” “I’m okay.” He smiles, his black and white striped shirt oversized on his body and the sleeves almost reaching to the end of his fingertips. If he’s cold, he doesn’t show it. “I know you don’t like wearing dresses and you look like you’re freezing.” “Thanks,” you grumble in a pout, putting the sweater on and glad that it does indeed shield you from the brisk breeze. “Hey, Jimin.” “Hmm?” When you suddenly stop, leaving Taehyung wandering ahead by himself, Jimin halts as well. He turns to face you, concern written across his features. It’s not often that you call him so softly and quietly. “What’s the matter?” You reach down and over, taking his soft hand and opening up his palm. “Take it.” He looks down at the crumple of cash, your share, now in his possessions. You let go and Jimin lifts his chin, his eyes boring in yours, gazing deep into your irises. “But what about you?” “I don’t need it. I know your mom needs it more and it’s not like I have parents. So…” You give a meager shrug, diverting your vision elsewhere, away from his intense eyes and you begin to walk again. “I’d rather put it to good use. Just take it.” He catches up with your quick strides, the corner of his mouth upturned. “Thank you.” “Uh-huh.” You try to evade the touchy-feely conversation that you sense is arising. “Yeah.” “No, I mean it, Y/N.” But unlike so many times before, this time, Jimin doesn’t let you brush it off. He puts a firm hand on your shoulder, stopping you mid-step, and then he turns you, reaching over until your chin is hooked on his shoulder, and he’s hugging you. “Thank you.” It’s a bit awkward — at least for you it is. His arms are wrapped around your back, and he’s holding you so close, in a way that you’re not used to. You’re standing stiff as a board, arms at your side, even leaning away, backwards, from his touch but Jimin doesn’t let you escape. Your cheek is squished against his and the brat is practically squashing you for dear life, utilizing the rare chance he has at embracing you. His murmur tickles your ear, “I don’t know what I would do without you or Tae. Thank you for being with me.” At this age, your heights match….well, you’re sure that you’re a bit taller than him (despite Jimin arguing otherwise) — though, you’re also certain one day he’ll outgrow you. He’ll be taller, stronger, more reliable. You’re looking forward for such a day to arrive. “Uh-huh.” You begin to ease, relaxing and even welcoming his affection. Jimin and Taehyung were always clingy from the beginning, the former more towards you, but even after four years, it still catches you by surprise. “Are you gonna cry?” “I don’t know. Maybe.” You can practically hear Jimin smiling and your own lips begin to move against your will. “You’re gonna get your own hoodie wet.” When Jimin realizes that you won’t peel him off just yet, he steals the opportunity and nuzzles into you, digging his face into your shoulder and breathing in your scent. “Don’t care.” If you were completely honest with yourself, you don’t know what you would do without the pair of them either. Those two idiots are the biggest blessing of your life. “Taehyung’s gonna make fun of you.” “I don’t care about that either.” It’s weird for him to be hugging you in the middle of nowhere, next to some train tracks and a grassy field that’s been trashed by litter. Moreover, the minute Taehyung snaps back to reality and wanders back, whining about how slow you two walk, only to realize that you’re hugging, his face will twist in disgust, and he’s gonna complain even louder. ‘Ewwwww, what the hell are you guys doing?! Gross! Get outta here!’ But like Jimin, you find yourself not caring either. For once, you savour the comfort Jimin provides, raising your hands to pat him gently on his back, something you’re aware his mother does. He hums for a moment and then finally pulls away, smiling at you so brightly that his face might break. “You know, you act really mean and hardcore sometimes, Y/N, but I know that’s all fake.” “What?” Jimin giggles and ruffles your hair, making a mess of your head and patting you like you’re his pet. You immediately scowl, slapping his hand away, but he isn’t deterred. “You’re really sweet and kind.” With that simple statement, he begins to walk away and you’re left baffled, jaw slack and you barely manage to keep up. “Am not!” “Are too!” “You’re a dumbass, Jimin!” The boy hums a small note and tips his head to the side, looking off at Taehyung’s backside, who’s now chasing a dragonfly zooming across the field. “Maybe for you I am.” Blind. Perhaps being ignorant to the cruel reality, to suffering and pain, the bleak future that is dawning upon all of you, isn’t so bad. Being trapped in your little, happy universe is all you need. Being with Jimin and Taehyung is all you could’ve asked for.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jimin fanfic #taehyung fanfic #jimin fluff #taehyung fluff #it's time to cue my evil laughter #while simultaneously sobbing

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pinkettepoet · 6 years

Text

In Which She’s A Metal Shrapnel (Because He Feels Her In His Heart)

Summary: Hi! I would like to request a very fluffy fic where the reader is a super famous surgeon and start working for Shield, and when Tony and her meet, she is all work, and Tony starts to flirt with her but she always decline his intentions for her past relationships and he finally convinces her and its all super fluffy? Idk, I hope you like the idea c:

Request: by the amazing Samantha, @bemyqueenofdarkness

Warnings: Tony Stark x Reader, Badassery,Fluff, Mentions of Death

Note: I absolutely adore this request and the requester! I put a little twist to this because it seemed to really blend. I really hope I did well for this! The amount of research I had to do for this was insanely amazing, it was super fun. Also, rate my title pls.

“Can you please calm down?”

“I don’t know, can I?” You growled at your fellow doctor, the empty room filling with your harsh tone. “Listen to me, I just lost a patient today, a child no less—”

“I’m so sorry.” He said, fueling your irritation further.

“Did I say you could talk? No. Do you know how painful it is to look the parents in the eye and say that their child is dead? No, you don’t. So don’t tell me to calm down when I haven’t had my cup of coffee yet, not to mention you had the nerve to tell me to send another one of my patients home.” You were a mess at the end of your little speech, your chest was heaving up and down, begging for air. Before you could say anything else, he spoke.

“You’re being emotionally attached, Y/N. Your patient is fine, she needs to go home now. The hospital is facing a triage situation, we need as much space and resources as we can have.” He spoke, gentling his tone as possible so as not to anger you further.

“She is a pregnant woman!” You argued, catching the attention of some nurses by now. “Pregnant women are always a priority. Especially when it’s a triage. Her blood levels are running pretty low and I am not sending her home until I know what the hell is wrong with her.”

“You said it yourself, she’s pregnant!” The doctor ran his hands through his shaggy hair, fully frustrated with you by now. “For all we know, it could be the baby trying to take in more blood because of the accident.”

“Four cars were involved in the accident! Do you really think everything is going to be okay? I mean, seriously—”

Your shouting match was interrupted by one of the nurses coming up to you quite slowly, afraid to even touch you. The nurse cleared his throat before saying. “Your patient — we, uh — we found something.”

“Go on,” You urged, glaring at the doctor before you accompanied the nurse back to your patient.

“So we ran a scan of her. It appears that she’s suffering from an internal bleeding — and, uh — wait, give me a second.” The nurse took a second to catch up with you, clearly intimidated by you.

“Okay, so, apparently the accident fractured her ribs which then led to it puncturing her lung.” He continued, relieved that you already reached the elevator. “One of the nurses checked up on her — said she was talking about chest pain and abnormal breathing. I think it could be—”

“Traumatic pneumothorax, you’re right.” You piped, pushing back the anxiety that nagged at you. “How severe is it?”

“It’s a large pneumothorax. I think it’s pretty serious.” He said.

You nodded, quickly registering facts and weighing options. “Prep the lab.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He said, speeding off to your opposite direction to the surgical lab.

In no time, you reached the room your patient had been resting in. You internally winced at the sight of her abnormally pale skin. “Hey, I heard you weren’t feeling well.”

With her eyes still closed, she whispered weakly, clutching her chest, “Can’t breathe. . . so tight.”

“That’s because your ribs are heavily fractured.” You began, going in straight for the points. “And that caused your punctured lung. As we speak, there is air pushing on your lung. If we don’t treat it now, it will collapse.”

“My baby. . .” She whispered, her hand lowering to her rounding stomach.

“Your baby has a 50% chance of survival.” You told her. “But we will do everything we can to save the both of you.”

Eventually, you saw her nod and that was all it took for you and your colleagues to rush her to the lab. Once the anesthesia you gave her had set in, you started the surgery. It took precision and grace to place the incision correctly. There was a lot of pressure weighing on your shoulders as you inserted the tube between her ribs and into the injured lung, so as to suck out the excess air. After hooking the tube to a device for the healing process, you felt all the weight just go away.

“Stitch her up, keep a close eye on her blood levels.” You said to the other nurses. You let out a huge breath, holding your face as you slid down across the wall.

The digital clock on the wall flashed numbers that both alarmed and relieved you. Since it was three o’clock in the morning and the situation in the hospital lightened, it was time for you to go home.

It took you an insane amount of time to change into your casual clothes, your arms were just so freaking sore and limp. You banged your head against the wall once more, feeling absolutely tired.

The sound of the door banging open didn’t faze you at all. When you looked up, annoyance filled your veins as you saw the same doctor who insisted on sending your patient home. You gave him a tired smile, patting his shoulder as you passed by him. “Good work today.”

Maybe he misunderstood your lack of enthusiasm, due to your exhaustion, as snark. He gripped your arm tightly, preventing you from moving any further.

“You know, just because you were on a couple of talk shows, it doesn’t mean you’re better than us!”

This is what you got for complimenting people. You shoved him away, ignoring his remark.

You pulled your coat tighter as you walked in the morning air. Brushes of wind bringing shivers and tremors all around you. During these times, when the light colors played across the skies, your hometown looked beautiful.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your home, moving a bit closer to the hospital made you more accessible. However, your whole body just froze at the sight of the door to your house left ajar.

On instinct, you reached for the gun in your bag. As you kept it at bay, you slowly searched for the intruder. The closest place was the kitchen, it was empty. You padded across the room and came to a halt once you saw the figures in the living room.

“What the hell?” You contained the anxiety nagging you at the back of your head. Noticing the people casually lounging on your couch.

One man, he was dressed in a dark trenchcoat and an eye patch. He spoke to you first. “Doctor Y/L/N, how would you like to work with S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“I already have a job, so no thanks.” You enunciated the words slowly, still in shock. “Now, would you please get out of my house?”

“Great. I’m Nick Fury.” The same man stood up, coming to place a hand on your shoulder. “You can start today by helping Tony Stark over here.”

That’s when you noticed the man who was bleeding out of his abdomen. It was in your nature to help others, so it didn’t take much of an effort to cave in.

Setting down your gun, “If I help your friend, will you leave?”

As you saw him nod, you made your way to the man who was claimed to be Tony Stark. He was laid out on one of your long couch with another man sitting by the end of his legs.

“I’m Bruce Banner,” He introduced himself, staring sorrowfully at Stark. “He passed out hours ago. Now I just think he’s sleeping.”

You nodded, hesitantly brushing the stray strands of hair away from his face. As you leaned in, you whispered, “Mr. Stark, how do you feel?”

Stark’s eyes drowsily opened, blinking a couple of times before his gaze landed on you. In a soft tone and sly smirk, he said, “So much — much better now that you’re here.”

“I’m going to need something,” You turned to the guy named Bruce, he was quite shocked at first but then he stood up, nodding shakily. “Bathroom is upstairs, first door to the left. There’s a first aid kit in the top cabinet.”

Once Bruce left your sight, you turned to Stark once more. Hovering over his bleeding wound, you said, “Okay, Mr. Stark, I’m going to need you to cooperate taking your shirt off.”

“Wow, okay, this is the fastest I’ve been with a woman,” Tony remarked as you drifted your fingers across his skin to lift up his shirt, him groaning softly at different intervals.

“I don’t think I associate myself with the likes of you,” You muttered, assessing his injury. “What exactly happened to you?”

“I got stabbed. But I think what you just said cut me deeper. In my heart.” Stark muttered, genuinely trying to not shiver from your hold.

“The good thing is, Mr. Stark, you’ll live. There aren’t any fatal injuries.” You told him, grabbing the first aid kit that Bruce handed you.

After you soaked the sterile dressing in the sterile water you carried, you pressed against it his skin, Stark immediately jumped up, making you retract your hand away from him in surprise. “Mr. Stark, is there anything wrong?”

He shook his head sluggishly, running his hands over his face. “No, that felt really good.”

In response, you stiffened, not seeming to know why. Nevertheless, you placed the dressing on the wound. You took great caution in every move you made. You reached for the bandage and began to wrap it around his waist. ��That’s it, Mr. Stark. You’re all done. Be sure to change the dressing every 12 to 24 hours.”

“Alright, thank you. Now we best be on our way. We’ll contact you if we need you again.” Nick Fury said, already having Bruce Banner carry Stark out.

“I still have a job,” You pointed out.

“I still don’t care.”

The first time it happened, you brushed it off.

Tony Stark walked into the hospital, catching the eyes of everyone there. He walked right up to where you were standing and shoved a huge bouquet right into your face. He had a devilish smirk plastered on his face, “For the lady who stopped me from dying.”

You dropped the bouquet of roses in shock as you heard the sound of a mariachi band playing behind you. You turned to Tony whose grin widened profusely. “Will you go on a date with me?”

“No.”

You hoped that would be the end of it. Until you saw your name written in the skies, once again being asked on a date by a certain billionaire. Then, Stark was on the top of the hospital roof, screaming for you to go on a date with him with a megaphone. He even went as far as buying you a house.

About the fourth time, he took a trip to the hospital, you decided to put an end to all the madness. You pulled him quickly into a secluded room before he could do anything eccentric and loud.

“So naughty,” He muttered, looking around the room full of medical accessories. When his gaze turned to you, he smiled immediately, “Y/N, looking beautiful as always.”

“Mr. Stark—” You were interrupted by him putting his hand up to stop you.

“Please,” He waved his hand around. “It’s Tony. We are, after all, going to be colleagues in work.”

“What?” You interjected, wide-eyed. “I already told your boss I have a job.”

“First, he’s not my boss. Second, Fury is weird like that but he most definitely is honest about hiring you.” Stark corrected.

You shook your head quickly, not wanting to believe any of this. “Whatever game you’re playing, I don’t want to take part in it.”

Raising your eyebrow as he began to speak shut him up immediately. One of the perks of being a highly intimidating woman, you thought. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten the stunt you pulled. Who the hell buys someone a house for no reason?"

“I do,” Tony whispered, looking at the floor all of a sudden.

“Have you gone mad?” You exclaimed, voice raising a few octaves higher.

Tony lifted his head, the infamous smirk already there. His gaze was focused entirely on you, the intensity shaking your mind. “Definitely.”

Once again, Stark beat you to words in your little verbal battle. “You know, I have about ten deliveries of diamond jewelry ready for you.”

“No! I don’t want that, you lunatic!”

“Well,” He shrugged. “Go on a date with me. It’s as simple as that, darling.”

“I don’t want to go on a date with you.” In all honesty, there was nothing wrong with the idea. But you knew what was holding you back, and the memories weren't pretty.

“Why not?” He pushed, exhaustion already dawning on you.

“Because.” You countered, feeling extremely proud of this comeback for some weird reason. It was probably because of the extensive lack of conditioning in the room, or most likely the tension between you two.

“That’s a really bad reason. Which makes me wonder why you’d come up with such a thing.” He replied.

“It’s because I don’t want to go on a date with you.” Answering with a mere shrug and monotonous tone.

“How could you not want to go on a date with me?” Stark exclaimed, waving his arms around in a wide motion. “I’m charming.”

“Loud.” You laughed, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Smart.”

“Cocky.”

“Ladies man.”

“Exactly!” You raised your voice to prove a major point. “Who’s to say you won’t get bored of me and run away into the sunset with another person?”

“I’m here with you,” He gestured to the room, pulling on the collar of his shirt. “Barely coping through this heat. But I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t even know me.” You challenged.

“That’s why we’re going on a date.” He winked. “One of many, let me warn you.”

“Who’s to say our relationship will even last?” You scoffed, daring him for an answer.

“I will be with you for as long as you have me.” He placed his hands on your waist, drawing you closer. Almost instinctively, you leaned your head on his chest, listening to every rhythmic beat of his heart. “Just take a little leap of faith with me.”

“Okay,” You mumbled hesitantly, a small already forming on your lips. You burrowed your face deeper into the crook of his neck, savoring the warmth and sweet scent all around you. It felt a little like home.

“I’m so relieved you said that. There’s a little parade I put together for you when we’d come out of the hospital. Would have been embarrassing if you said no. I think I have an elephant float just cruising down the straight with your name on it.” He blurted all of a sudden, making the both of you laugh obnoxiously.

“It’s alright.” You said, pulling away from him and staring directly into his eyes. “Might even be perfect.”

(marvel tag list: @not-jk-rowling, @hydraliciousbarnes, @thewhinersoldier, @the-crime-fighting-spider, @saharzek, @hottrashformarvel, @slowly-but-shurley)

#tony stark imagine #tony stark x you #tony stark fluff #tony stark x reader #tony stark #avengers imagine #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #marvel fanfiction #reader insert #this was not very good #im sorry #hope you enjoyed it #requests are open

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concussed-to-pieces · 7 years

Text

Comfort

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Ambrose/Omega!Female Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: How about a Thirst Party Saturday...Wednesday pick-me-up? I was thinking an Office!AU, with that sweet, sweet Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamic we all know and love. Tagging @toxiicpop, @oraclegazes and of course, the campaigner for all things LaBraun, @hardcorewwetrash!

Enjoy!

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains threats of rape, musings on consent and general manhandling. Stay safe everyone!]

You knew that you probably should have stayed home today.

Suppressants were expensive and you had the sneaking suspicion that your script had been cut to begin with. You hadn’t felt right for months. But your doctor always dismissed your concerns as Omega paranoia and you didn’t want to make your visits any more difficult, so you just put your head down and accepted the reports without complaint.

You were very lucky after all, you had to remind yourself. Getting hired into an office setting while being an Omega was no easy task, but you’d managed to pick up some runner work that would get your foot in the door over at King’s Game Enterprises. It was only small things for the moment and you’d had to sign a waiver before you started stating that you would keep up with your dosages or face immediate termination, so you couldn’t exactly afford to have your prescription cut with sugar pills. But you had this unshakable feeling of restlessness while making your morning commute. You were tense and tight, as though you were about to jump out of your skin at any given second.

In a burst of desperation, you decided to be honest with your boss about your situation. There was an off chance that maybe, he might understand and send you home early. His wife was an Omega and he treated her like an equal.

Maybe it’ll be okay.

You gathered up their coffee orders and a few files from Alicia, then squared your shoulders and headed for Hunter’s office. Please don’t fire me, you begged mentally. Please please please.

You heard the office door click open before you were halfway down the hall and Stephanie poked her head out. “Alright, move it.” She said, not unkindly. “Smelled you a mile away.” Your heart sank. They know. She at least waited until she’d closed the office door behind you before she started in on you. “Did you not understand the paperwork you signed? Because I can find someone to explain it to you. In perfect detail.”

You bowed your head meekly and pressed her coffee into her hands. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t exactly the equivalent of coming in with a sore throat, but I don’t have any sick days saved up yet. I didn’t know what else to do, ma’am, I need this job so much.” You kept your eyes on the floor, blinking back tears. “I wanted to ask if…if maybe Mr. Hunter could send me home. Or even you, if you have that authority. I know it’s dangerous for me to be out and about like this, I swear I didn’t skip a dose. I-I take my meds, always, but I don’t feel right today and I don’t want to cause any problems.”

“I’ll get Hunter in here. You sit down.” Stephanie clicked her tongue. “Your script get swapped? Did they put you on the generic?”

“My doctor doesn’t give me my scripts, he calls them in himself. He says it’s too dangerous to have an Omega walking around with an unfilled script.” A tear slipped out and you quickly wiped it away, irritated with yourself. Stupid suppressants!

There was a loud knock on the office door and then it was shoved open, the person on the other side not even waiting for acknowledgment. “Heya’ boss one, is boss two he…” The person, a man with a mop of unruly sandy-blond hair, ground to a halt. His nose twitched.

“Perfect timing Ambrose, as ever. Hunter already call you?”

“Y…yeah.” Ambrose said slowly. He shook himself all over. “Whew, sorry. I’m back.”

“Wonderful, I’m so glad Seth is teaching you to be prompt.” Stephanie turned back to you, gesturing at Ambrose. “Dean is one of our Omega therapy Alphas. It’s a new program that some of the higher-ups initiated for the safety and comfort of people like you and me.”

“Basically we’re here to keep you okay.” Dean explained simply. He radiated calm Alpha scent, the new fragrance washing away your terror at being fired.

“We?” You asked in confusion.

Another knock sounded on the door and Ambrose moved to open it, revealing two more men. The Alpha smell, which was heady enough in the room from Dean alone, instantly thickened. Your stomach filled with warmth and you gasped for breath, dimly aware that Stephanie was saying something. Seth. Roman.

Mr. Hunter’s hand was suddenly tilting your chin up. “You still in there, kid?” Hunter Helmsley was the epitome of mated Alpha, broad-shouldered and confident in his own skin. You could see why Stephanie adored him.

You barely had the mental capacity to shake your head. “I don’t feel well, sir.” Your voice was a trembling whisper.

“It’s alright. That’s why our boys are here. Can you make it to lunch time? Two hours.” Hunter glanced at the clock. “Then, it’s only half a shift missed instead of a full one.”

Two hours. Two hours. You nodded dumbly. You could do whatever this Alpha asked. You were a good Omega.

Hunter chuckled. “Alright. The boys are going to escort you to our Omega office, okay? Scent-dampening walls like mine. We need to keep you under wraps until this calms down. You may want to talk with your physician as well, figure out what he gave you.”

“Not the right amount. He won’t listen to me.” You breathed.

“He’ll listen to Dean.” That was one of the other Alphas, but was it Roman or Seth? Seth or Roman?

“Our Alpha partner program can also accompany you to appointments, if necessary.” Hunter added gently. “They’re here to make things easier.”

The idea of having a strong, secure Alpha with you in the doctor’s office made your chest ache with longing. You whined without meaning to, blushing and covering your mouth. “Sorry, I just…”

“Don’t apologize, Omega. We understand.” Seth (or was it Roman?) took your hand, sending tingles through to your fingertips. “C’mon, before everyone in the building is banging on Hunter’s door.”

Roman (or was it Seth?) opened the door for you, making you flush even hotter than before. Normally only mates were offered the courtesy of having a door held for them. Dean came up on the other side of you, the two Alphas flanking you in the hallway while the third brought up the rear.

You finally got up the courage to whisper, “Are you Seth or Roman?” to the dark-haired man at your side.

“He’s Seth, I’m Roman.” The young man behind you answered, making you glance over your shoulder to look at him. He gave you a small smile, as though he was doing his best to soften his hard features. “Roman Reigns, Alpha at your service.”

“Um, no offense to any of you but…why were you guys picked for this?” You asked awkwardly.

“Even temperament, mostly.” Roman replied, shrugging.

“I don’t get nuts around Omegas. Hormone imbalances.” Dean said shortly.

“And I’m too smart to lose my cool.” Seth added smugly. “We aren’t like those other Alphas, butting heads over a piece of ass.”

“Rollins.” Roman’s tone held a sharp note of warning.

“Sorry, sorry. Not to imply that you’re a piece of ass or anything.” Seth apologized hastily. “You’re an Omega, and an Omega that doesn’t want to sit at home and do nothing! Pretty rare.”

“Sitting around is only good until the bills need to be paid.” You commented dryly. “Wait, how am I supposed to do my job if I have to-”

“Ambrose is going to be with you when you’re running errands, okay?” Seth murmured, raking a hand through his hair. “It’s not ideal, I know, the space in here is kinda’ tight. But if something happens while you’re in our care, Hunter will eat us alive.”

Dean opened the door to the Omega office and stepped in, gesturing for you to follow. “C’mon, let’s sit you down for a minute. How you feeling? Doing okay?” He asked kindly, touching your forehead with the back of his hand. “You don’t feel fevery.”

“I’m just nervous, mostly. Restless. Like it’s hard to breathe. I mean, it’s not actually hard to breathe, but like how you feel when it is?” You fumbled to explain. “Chest is kind of tight.”

Roman had pulled a small notebook out of his back pocket, the well-built Alpha turning to a fresh page before clicking his pen. “Can I get the name of your primary care physician, and a rough estimate of how long he’s been cutting your medication? Mr. Helmsley will need it for your file.”

“Oh, b-but I have no proof-”

“Your body is out of sync. Unless Hunter--er, I mean, Mr. Helmsley, has put you under a significant amount of stress, there’s no logical reason for you to be feeling like your lungs are too small.” Seth raised an eyebrow. “I doubt you have anything going on outside of work that could contribute to the level of discomfort you’re dealing with. Shortness of breath is a pretty common complaint in Omegas once their meds are switched.”

“According to my primary, every complaint is a common complaint for someone like me.” The statement came out more bitter than you intended and you grimaced. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, this is good information to have. With your consent, Dean will accompany you on your next appointment.” Roman continued to write for a moment, before clearing his throat. “Ah, when is your next appointment?”

“I had made an emergency one for tomorrow, a cancellation happened and I picked up the slot. Waste of a day off, but I was really hoping to talk some sense into the doctor.” You said weakly. “Or at least try. It’s...hard. He has me strip down and put on the examination gown before he’ll speak to me and I just…I mean it’s a vulnerable situation for someone like me and I don’t really have anyone to come with me.” You were so relieved that someone might be taking you seriously, the words just came pouring out. “I know he doesn’t like Omegas so I just try to make everything simple but now I’m sick or confused and I’m scared, what if there’s something really wrong with me?”

“Easy, easy. Look, I’m gonna’ go grab you a soda from the break room stash. We’ll get some sugar into you, perk you back up. Like Mr. Helmsley said, if you can duke it out for two hours you’re in better shape.” Dean reminded you, heading for the door. “Everything’s gonna’ be just fine. I can come with you tomorrow, I don’t have any prior assignments.”

Of course, as soon as the words were out of his mouth the door flew open and half the contents of the IT department poured into the office. Drew, Tony and Perkins led by one Brian Kendrick who shouted, “There! I told you I smelled heat in the hallway!” pointing an accusing finger at you. You were frozen with fear. The small room was packed with Alphas and Betas now, crowding in on you from all sides. The air was thick with different smells and the snap of hungry teeth and this is why you can’t have a job this is why you need to stay at home-

“Ambrose!” Seth yelled over the hubbub. It must have been something they had rehearsed, because you were suddenly pulled tight to Dean's chest.

“Face into my collarbone, breathe in. Breathe out. Don't look at them, focus on me.” Ambrose said calmly. There was the sound of a solid impact behind you and Kendrick abruptly stopped hollering.

“You're all really gonna' let this yappy son of a bitch rile you up into acting like a bunch of animals?” Roman asked, his voice low and irritated. “Get out. All of you! Out!”

You whimpered and Dean cupped the back of your head, humming comfortingly. “It's alright. He's a friend. You're safe with me.” He soothed. “We're on your side. Nothin' is gonna' happen to you while I’m here.”

“I'm going to talk to Kalisto and Mustafa. This is some bullshit.” Rollins grunted angrily. “Jesus Christ, that was a fucking nerd mob.”

“Are you alright?” Roman asked, sounding concerned. A large hand covered Ambrose’s on the back of your neck and you relaxed a little into Dean. “Go talk with the smart ones, Seth. We’ll stay put with them until you get back.”

“My legs are going to give out in a second.” You warned thickly.

“Grab the chair, Reigns.” Dean ordered. You closed your eyes, the sound of your swallow loud in your ears. “I’ve got you. Focus on my voice, calm that breathing down so you’re getting enough air.” Ambrose coached, settling you into the chair.

Roman’s hands rested on your shoulders, keeping you upright in the seat. Ambrose shifted in between your thighs, the comfort you felt at his presence a little startling. “Nothing bad is going to happen to you while one of us is here.” Roman said firmly.

“Promise?” You whispered, opening your eyes.

Dean stared back at you until you glanced away, unnerved by the intensity of his look. “Promise.” He replied softly.

…

“Clothes stay on. No, fuck you, their clothes stay on. You’re not bullying them anymore, got it asshole?” Dean rasped, looking like he was inches from pinning your doctor to the wall. “I’m here with them. Now do your damn job and explain what’s happening.”

You hadn’t taken two steps into the examination room before your primary care physician had gestured at the gown on the table and barked at you like he always did. But Ambrose didn’t take kindly to that, the light-haired man glaring holes through the old Alpha doctor. “You can’t threaten me in my own practice!” The older man sputtered.

“They have the right to be treated with fucking dignity, not like they’re an inconvenience. Shit, they’re sick and scared and you’re over here playing high and mighty!” Dean snapped. “What’s the story, huh doc? What’s your issue?”

“Omegas are breeding machines with hysterical, hypochondriac tendencies. My issue is that I’m having my time wasted.” The doctor answered primly.

“This is an Omega who’s got shortness of breath and their heats are getting worse even though they’re taking their suppressants. You’re the one writing their scripts; you’re the one who switched them to a generic without asking them first and then, you cut their doses in half!” Ambrose was fairly roaring at this point. “Feeding them some bullshit story about how they couldn’t take their own script to a fucking pharmacy! ‘Course they can, most Omegas do!”

“I’m not going to stand here and be accused of-”

“Accusing you? Buddy I haven’t even shown you my evidence. I’m flat-out condemning your ass. I have invoices. Faxes. Pages and pages of scripts with your name all over them. I suggest you fucking play ball with my Omega, or King’s Game is gonna’ raze your little pop-up clinic and turn it into a fuckin’ penny candy store.” Dean bared his teeth. “You feel me yet, doc?”

“I…” Your doctor paused, looking like he’d had the rug yanked out from beneath him. “Listen, this is standard procedure for Omega-exclusive practices, I can’t just-”

“You’re diggin’ a pretty deep hole for yourself, doc. You tryin’ to tell me that there’s more guys like you out there, purposely fucking up people’s lives?” Dean snarled.

“It’s the way things are.” Your doctor replied with a weary air. “We need to perpetuate our species one way or another. I don’t expect you to understand, you don’t smell quite right yourself.”

“You’d better watch that nose around me, doc. I’ll bite it off.”

“Aside from your own issues,” Your doctor continued, looking much more pale, “I can’t just up their dosage on a whim, this-”

“Hey, you’re not talking to me. Talk to them. This is their health at stake.” Dean growled.

“Fine.” Your doctor turned toward you with a huff, still not meeting your eyes. “It will take weeks for the suppressants to regain their previous effectiveness. A gradual increase is the only way to straighten you out. If, of course, this is all true.” The doctor didn’t seem to be able to help tacking on the snide remark at the end.

Dean was all over him like a bad suit, fists digging into the older man’s white jacket. “You keep this attitude up and I’ll bite your nose off for free.” He threatened. “This is your last warning to cut the shit. Write them the correct script or so help me God, my people will call your people.”

You just sat there wide-eyed, barely believing what you were watching. Dean was going to bat for you like you were his, radiating scents of fury and Alpha. Your body lit up with excitement and you barely kept yourself from begging Ambrose to mate you until you couldn’t remember your own name. Your face flushed. Where had that desire come from?! You had never been that forward before!

Ambrose kept up the rumbling threat of a snarl in his chest while your doctor printed off some new paperwork, the younger Alpha quickly yanking it out of the older man’s hands and then passing it to you. “Let’s get you taken care of, okay?” Dean murmured, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to steer you out of the examination room. “I know a guy, Doc Swagger. I’ll give you his number for when this script runs out.”

“Wow.” You breathed.

“Too much? I wanted him to take you seriously. I wasn’t sure whether ‘upset mate’ would work, so I went with ‘upset bad cop’.” Dean sounded worried. “Did I overstep?”

“Oh no, gosh. I’m just…a little hot is all.” You admitted, flushing.

“A little h…oh. Oh.” Ambrose paused, then gave you a grin. “Yeah? You think maybe you like when I get tough?”

“No! I do not!” You protested frantically, watching his grin widen. “I’ve never had anyone defend me like that is all and I don’t…I mean I’m not…look, I don’t want to offend you.”

“Offend…?” Ambrose raised an eyebrow, obviously confused. “I think you’ll have to try harder than that.”

“Well because I’m an Omega. And…and I can’t control myself as well as I should.” Your flush was from shame now. “It’s not fair to you that you have to deal with me all…messy like this and probably smelling like a...I-I don’t mean to be this way. It’ll be so much easier once my medication is evened back out.” This was so embarrassing. You had never felt smaller in your whole life. “I really don’t mean to be this way, I know what you must think of me.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with how you smell.” Dean finally murmured after a minute of silence, his back ramrod straight and that teasing smile gone from his face.

…

Hunter assigned Dean to you permanently when he saw how well the two of you were getting on. He mostly just seemed pleased that the program was a success and that you could get your work done with minimal interruptions.

There were no more outbursts from the IT department, and if anyone so much as twitched their nose at you it seemed like Ambrose was at your elbow, brandishing a stapler with deadly intent. His methods were a bit more…hands on than you would expect from someone in an office setting, but you were grateful all the same.

“I ain’t hurt anyone for real in years.” He confided in you one day while you were making copies, his lean frame towering over you. He tended to station himself to the side of you if he could help it, stating that he didn’t want to loom. “Used to pretty often though. This little program is good for me, I think.”

A huge pair of hands abruptly clamped down on your hips before you could respond, and you were rudely hoisted into the air and dropped to the side to free up the copier. “Out of my way.” Brock from Financial grunted.

“Hey!” Dean snapped, his expression gone fierce. “You don’t fucking touch them, Hunter’s orders!”

“What makes you think I give a flying fuck about Hunter’s orders?” Brock snorted derisively, “The little go-fer with slick-reek was taking too long. I have important work to do.”

You blushed hotly with shame, hoping that you didn’t actually smell like slick. How incredibly embarrassing!

“You can ask them to fucking move.” Ambrose’s fists clenched. “Or you can wait.”

“Copies really worth getting your panties in a wad over, Ambrose?” Brock’s grin was infuriating, arrogance shining through in his slouched posture.

“Certainly seemed like it was to you, Lesnar.” Dean scooped up the copy that Brock had made before the other Alpha could reach it, quickly ripping the page in half.

“Your maturity knows no bounds.” Brock sighed.

“Were you all set with the machine?” Dean asked you, studiously ignoring the massive Alpha blocking the door. You nodded quickly, not wanting to cause more trouble. You could always come back on your way out, after all. “Guess it’s your lucky day, Lesnar.”

“You do realize that they’ll fuck anyone, Ambrose. Regardless of how that person treats them.” Brock chuckled, his nasty smile back full-force. “Isn’t that right, little Omega? I bet you’d love it if I shoved up your skirt and just-”

“Stop!” You said while shaking your head violently, unsure at first if you were trying to shut him up or trying to keep your thoughts from circling on the visuals his words were eliciting. Normally you would have been thrilled at the idea of an Alpha offering you any sort of attention, especially attention that might ease the hot shivers in your stomach. But all you could focus on was the brief flash of a wounded look that crossed Ambrose’s face and the nausea that was building in your throat.

“Man, why the hell would you say something like that? Were you raised by wolves? Jesus.” Dean seemed more offended than anything else, moving until he was between you and Brock. “I mean shit, what’s your problem? Mommy issues? Daddy issues? Tiny penis? All three? Get the fuck away from them.” He gave Brock a hard shove, clearing the doorway. “Go ahead, I’ll be there in a minute.” Dean urged you, making you scramble for the hall.

You slid down the wall once you were in the hallway, tucking your knees up into your chest. Brock had done nothing but make everything worse, your face still hot from the notion that you might smell like slick and be unable to do anything about it. You got unsteadily to your feet and fled to the bathroom, locking yourself in a stall and resting your forehead against the door. Too late you realized you had forgotten your copies in the hallway, and tears choked your throat. Why was this so hard? Why did you have to be so stubborn about this job? Plenty of Omegas stayed at home, raising babies and keeping house. Why couldn’t you?

Maybe the suppressants failing was a blessing in disguise. Maybe…maybe you should be one of those Omegas. You had been so sure of yourself, and look where it had gotten you! Huddled up in a bathroom stall, your stomach rolling and tears dripping down your face. And now your nose was running. You thumped your head against the stall door and then flinched back when the bathroom door opened with a loud bang!

“Omega?” It was Dean, whispering as loud as he could. “You in here?”

“Yeah.” You sighed, unlocking the stall and opening the door. You kept your eyes fixed on the floor. “Sorry I ran. I know you have the worst job in this place and I’m not exactly making it easier by taking off on you.”

“Hey, I get it. You were scared, maybe a little embarrassed. Don’t listen to anything that asshole says, okay? He’s just pulling the same shit every other Alpha and Beta does, trying to guilt or threaten you into boning them.” Dean said bluntly. “Like I need to tell you that, like you don’t already know.” He laughed weakly. “And what the heck do you mean by ‘worst job’?”

You just shook your head, finally raising your eyes to look at him. He had a new graze on his cheek, the small cut oozing blood down the side of his jaw. “Oh, what happened?” You asked unhappily, reaching out and wiping the blood off with your thumb.

“Caught the side of the copier funny. It made that low toner warning t-turn off though, so I think I fixed it.” Dean’s voice hitched slightly and you hastily pulled your hand back.

“Sorry, I…reflex.” You apologized, tired to death of blushing. But you shouldn’t have touched him! He wasn’t yours, after all, and it was a little frowned upon when an unmated Omega went around touching unmated Alphas unnecessarily. “Didn’t mean to.”

“It’s alright.” Was all Dean said in reply, jamming his hands into his pockets. When you caught sight of his hands later on in the day, you noticed his knuckles were scraped open in a few places.

I ain’t hurt anyone for real in years.

What did he consider ‘for real’?

…

Your heat cycle ended and life returned to normal for the most part. Dean no longer needed to accompany you everywhere and he said as much, pressing the phone number for his doctor friend into your palm. “I’ll see you around, Omega.”

You scolded yourself for your daydreaming, sentimental tendencies on the way to your appointment with Doctor Swagger. You felt guilty for the trouble you must have put Dean through during your cycle and you were hoping this new doctor would be able to help you manage yourself better.

Doctor Jack Swagger was the largest Omega you had ever met, the blond man standing head and shoulders over you when he shook your hand warmly. “The usual? I doubt you want to spend your whole day off in my tidy little exam room.” His easy demeanor was a complete change from your prior physician and you found yourself relaxing. “Ambrothe recommended me, huh? I’m flattered.” Swagger grinned. “He’s normally all teeth when I have to poke and prod him, poor bastard.” He patted the examination table. “Alright, quick checkup and we’ll have you out of here in no time.”

True to his word it wasn’t long before you were on your way, the fresh script for name brand suppressants tucked safely into your pocket. Swagger said he had already called the order in, but that “it might be a good idea for you to have the script in hand, so they can cross-reference it.” Which you were sure was his way of letting you know that he wouldn’t be offended if you wanted to be certain you were getting the right product.

You were grateful that he seemed to understand your plight. But then again, who knew what kind of trials he had been through? Nobody could have believed he was an Omega, as huge as he was. You tightened your grip on the steering wheel. Of course, not every Omega was going to be small-boned and delicate, the world just didn’t work that way. People like you did lean towards the diminutive, but an Omega’s size wasn’t nearly as much of an issue as it would be for, say, a shorter Alpha.

There were plenty of other things people could find wrong with Omegas. Size was an outlier.

You shook your head at yourself. Those thoughts weren’t going to do you any good. Everything would be okay now! You would be back to your usual self in a few months and hopefully you could still see Dean every now and then--

No! Stop it! That’s not how this works! Just because he had treated you decently, just because he was required to keep you safe when you were more likely to have a lapse in judgment? You were a job, that was all. Something to keep Mr. Helmsley signing checks for him. Nothing was going to change that. I don’t get any say in the matter, you thought sadly. He’s not mine and he’s never going to be. Might as well get used to it, no Alpha is going to so much as look at me unless I’m in heat.

…

The next time your cycle came around, you were caught off guard. It was almost two weeks early! You did your best to remain calm on the drive to work, calling ahead to let Stephanie know you would be a little late. Dean met you at the door, his expression carefully neutral. “Again?” You nodded, biting your lip. He grunted, taking off his heavy leather jacket and dropping it over your shoulders. “That ought to mask it, at least for now. How do you feel?”

“Queasy.” You admitted, snuggling down into the coat and tucking your nose into the collar where Ambrose’s scent was cloyingly thick. It was pitiful and you knew it, saying as much when Dean gently took your arm to lead you in. “M’sorry, your jacket is going to smell all gross.” You mumbled.

“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t mind your smell? Damn.” Dean huffed.

“What if people think you’re my mate because my scent is all over your stuff?” You continued over him worriedly. “What if Brock comes after you?”

“That’s kinda’ the point.” Dean said matter-of-factly, making you pause. “Look, I’m here to help you avoid conflict. No one said I had to fight fair.” His smile was crooked. “I just hope you can deal with the group of people who will pity you.”

“Pity…?”

“Yeah, I’m not exactly a prime cut of Alpha steak.” He shrugged. “Not really much interest. Hell, I’m scrawny when you look at Reigns or Rollins.”

“I don’t think you’re scrawny!” You protested, touching his hand on your arm. “You’re trim.”

“Is that a thing? Sure, okay. I’m ‘trim’.” Dean chuckled. “Whatever makes you feel better.”

“Not every Alpha needs to be huge, y’know.”

Dean fell silent at your words and you wondered if you had annoyed him. His hold tightened momentarily on your arm. “Come…come in here for a second.” He muttered finally, ushering you into an empty conference room.

You were instantly on guard, your death grip on the jacket around your shoulders the biggest oxymoron you could think of. Ambrose left the door to the hallway slightly ajar, and he leaned against the wall beside it.

“Look, I don’t want you thinkin’ you owe me for this uh…well, whatever it is that I’m doing. Escorting, I guess. I was trained to do this, okay? It’s not like I moonlight in HR or somethin’, this is what I clock in to do. So you ain’t gotta’ be delicate with me, alright? I’m a big kid.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“I don’t understand.” You said slowly, feeling like that was the best course of action.

Dean dragged a hand through his hair. “You…what you said. Not that I don’t appreciate hearin’ stuff like that, mind you. I don’t want to think that I’m…fuckin’, inadequate. And I usually don’t think that way anyhow. But you don’t have to say stuff just to make me feel better. Like I said, I’m a big kid.” He tried for another smile and it was even less convincing than his previous attempt. “Now, let’s get you to your office.”

“But-” You began to protest, bewildered.

“Please. Drop it.” Dean said softly, his hand tucked back into the crook of your elbow. “Seriously.”

You nodded, not really wanting to but understanding that he was uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. And wasn’t that odd, an Omega trying to make an Alpha feel at ease! “Hey, if you ever need to talk to someone…”

“I’m fine. Thank you.” Oh, you had definitely upset him. His words were clipped and short, bitten out. “What’s up with me is my own business, Omega.”

“Yeah, but if you have to babysit on top of that-”

“I’m not babysitting you.”

“You literally put your coat on me and now you’re leading me along this hallway like I’ve never been here before. Face it, you’re a babysitter.” Your stomach twisted suddenly, robbing you of your breath and making you stop in your tracks. “Oh.”

“Omega? Shit.” Dean swore, glancing both ways before propping you up against the wall. “It's okay, you’re alright. You’re alright, it’ll pass.” He said softly, brushing your hair back from your face.

You tried to focus on his voice, tried to focus on his hands on your shoulders. “Dean-” You whispered.

“Shh, you’re alright. Breathe.” Dean urged and you nodded, trying to be obedient for this Alpha. “Just keep breathing, you’ll be okay. Nothing bad is gonna’ happen while I’m here, I promise.” His eyes lowered. “Is it your stomach?”

“Y-Yeah.” You choked out. “Hard to breathe-”

Dean grimaced and spread his palm flat on the lower portion of your stomach, applying firm, even pressure as he worked his hand in small circles. The heat of his fingers bled through your blouse and you whimpered, quickly biting down on your knuckles to stifle the noise. “Easy now, just relax into me.” He rasped, his voice rougher than usual. “I’ve got you.”

The pain in your stomach dissipated almost as quickly as it had arrived, and you held onto Dean’s arm while you tried to regain your balance. “What…God, I feel like I just ran a marathon.” You said finally, making Dean snicker.

“You probably blew through your caloric intake for the week. Let’s get you to the office and then I’ll find you a snack.” Ambrose’s hand stayed on your stomach, supporting you during the rest of the trek to the Omega office. You wanted to wonder at that, but you quickly crushed the notion. He was doing his job. Nothing more, but definitely nothing less.

He kept closer than he usually did, touching you with some part of his body for the majority of the work day. Fingertips, his jeans brushing your slacks or his arm bumping your own in the narrow hallways. Normally it wouldn’t matter, but after his curt behavior earlier it was entertaining to a degree. And confusing.

“I just don’t think I could do it.” He muttered out of the blue.

You glanced up from the pile of mail you were trying to sort, seeing that he was fiddling with his phone. “What?” You asked, making him jump.

“Oh, sorry. That was supposed to be in my head. My bad.” Dean apologized, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just thinkin’ about…well, it doesn’t really matter.” You raised an eyebrow and he swallowed hard, the sound seeming over-loud in the quiet room. “Uh. Jesus, if I hadn’t seen you earlier I’d swear you were an Alpha. You’ve got the stern look down pat.”

“Oh?” You wrinkled your nose, unsure if you were being complimented.

Ambrose practically lunged across the desk to pick up one of the bottles of water he had grabbed earlier, clumsily popping the cap on it and downing half the contents. “Okay, alright, you win, you can’t do that shit with your nose.” He gasped once he was done. “Look, it wouldn’t work between us. I ain’t never even thought about dating an Omega before!” Dean sounded outright panicky and you got the feeling his mouth was miles ahead of his brain as he rambled, “I mean, I have thought about it, yeah, but it scares the shit out of me. I just--if-if they have some kind of wave and I ain’t around, what happens? What fucking happens? People talk a lot of shit but there isn’t any hard proof, do Omegas want to bang whatever whenever? And if they do, why would--”

“Listen, I’d love to answer but I can’t. If I told you I’d have to kill you. Official orders from Omega higher-ups.” You interrupted Dean pompously, barely holding back your giggles when he gave you a wide-eyed look. “What, you don’t know about the network? We have influential Omegas stationed at key points across the globe, Dean. There’s nothing Alphas or Betas can do without us knowing.”

Understanding dawned on Dean’s face and he shoved your shoulder, giving an embarrassed laugh. “Shut up, I was bein’ serious y’know.”

“I don’t really know the answers.” You admitted. “I’ve been on suppressants since my first heat, and up until relatively recently they worked fine. So I couldn’t tell you. I doubt Omegas actually want to bang whatever whenever, but hormones are a funny thing. Especially if they’re combined with a fertile Alpha or Beta. Your scent makes me weak in the knees, sure, but I’m not about to jump you. With the half-strength suppressants the hardest part was dealing with the mental images.”

“Oh. Like when Brock was-”

“Ew, Jesus, don’t remind me.” You cut him off, covering your ears. “It was bad enough in the moment, God. I wanted to die.”

“Why do people do that shit to you guys?” Dean asked, “Just to get you wound up? Give you some kind of picture that’ll make your body feel even worse until you get some relief?”

“So that they can conveniently offer to be the relief.” You shook your head. “Guilting and manipulating an Omega into mating while they’re in heat ought to be a punishable offense. Nine times out of ten we aren’t in our right minds, how are you supposed to get consent out of someone who can’t even remember words anymore?”

“And that’s the ticket right there, isn’t it.” Ambrose growled. “Fuckin’ pieces of crap get an Omega riled to the point of incoherence and have their fun.” He gave you a sidelong look. “That uh, that something that’s happened to you?”

“No, not me personally. I’ve been very lucky.” You replied softly.

“Well you ain’t gotta’ rely on luck anymore, okay? I’m here. I’m not particularly lucky myself, but what little I’ve got I’ll happily spread thin for ya’.” Dean cracked his knuckles, looking very serious. “That’s why I signed on to this program anyway, figured if my Alpha hormones are fucked I might as well do some good.”

“How are they messed up?”

“Ah, I get weird dry spells. Months, sometimes. I’ve got some meds to regulate it for when the spigot turns back on, mostly because if I didn’t I could probably tear a stack of phonebooks for kicks. It’s like testosterone overload, I can’t get a straight thought through my head even with the meds. I’ll be like ‘I need food’, then two seconds later I’m out climbing my fire escape, stealing tomatoes off the balcony of the guy who lives above me.” Dean shrugged. “Probably naked too, if I know myself.”

“Oh my God.”

“Yeah, I’m uh, not too bright when I get that way.”

…

Friday had come at last. It had been a long week and you were definitely looking forward to some time off. Ambrose was more fidgety than normal, to the point where it was actually getting on your nerves. Usually you barely noticed it, but today Dean seemed like he was trying to tap and shimmy his way out of his own skin.

“Hey, are you okay?” You asked, much sharper than you had intended.

Dean flinched, not meeting your eyes when he looked up and instead focusing on a point by your shoulder. “Yep.” He said shortly.

You quirked an eyebrow at his behavior, getting to your feet and smoothing the wrinkles out of your skirt. “Hey, if something is wrong you can tell me, you know. I’m not in anyone’s pocket just yet.”

“I just have to get through this shift. I’d appreciate it if you would drop it.” Was his stiff reply.

“Is it something that I did?” You asked worriedly, thanking God that you were at the end of your heat and your flush wasn’t quite so neon. “Did I say something? Did…did Brock do something?”

“This ain’t got anythin’ to do with you!” Dean said, his voice rasping badly when he raised it. He deflated almost immediately. “Sorry, I’m…sorry. I promise it’s not anything that you did. I just gotta’ get through today. I’m trying real hard to keep my cool here, Omega.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You asked, lowering your own voice and crouching so you were at eye level with him. Dean still wouldn’t look you in the eye, awkwardly shifting in his chair. “Hey, I’m serious. You take such good care of me all the time. Do you need a water? Something to snack on?”

“It feels like someone cranked the knob up to eleven and then snapped it off.” Ambrose mumbled, not answering your question. Then, “If something happens…”

“Nothing is going to happen. I’m running down the hall to the lounge, getting you a water and some chips, then coming right back. Three minutes tops.” You promised, giving him a reassuring smile. “Let me take care of you.”

Ambrose groaned loudly, dropping his head into his hands and rubbing his temples. “Alright, okay, fine. Just be careful. Three minutes. I’m coming to get you if you’re not back.” He threatened half-heartedly, making you snicker while you stood.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” You eased into the hallway, making sure it was empty before you closed the door behind you. As you made the short walk to the break room, you wondered whether this was the beginning of Dean’s own proverbial hell week. Your heart went out to him if it was, you of all people understood that having your body go to war with itself was not a fun experience.

The vending machine was devoid of chips, but there were a few packets of crackers available. You fed it your change and then huffed in annoyance when the crackers got stuck in the dispenser. Pounding your fist on the side of the machine did no good, and you resorted to shoulder-checking it until it rocked enough to drop the crackers. “Ha!” You said triumphantly, retrieving your prize and turning around.

Brock was so close you all but walked into his chest and your heart sank to your shoes. “Well well well, if it isn’t the office pet. Where’s your cuntlicker?” Brock leered down at you.

You swallowed hard. Cuntlicker? “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Omega bitch. Where’s Ambrose?” Brock’s tiny eyes narrowed even further. “I owe him for the other day, after all. Maybe I ought to have you suck me off as an apology.”

“What makes you think I would agree to something like that?” You snapped, ignoring the faded response of your body that clamored to be claimed by an Alpha.

“I don’t need you to agree-”

“If you don’t want me to bite your cock off, I feel like my agreement is incredibly important.” You snarled, surprising yourself with your own aggression. “Also? Not even if I was out of my mind with heat, Lesnar.”

“Is that fucking so?” Brock’s hands crushed your shoulders, the large Alpha hefting you up and pinning you to the wall without so much as a noise of exertion. “Try again, Omega bitch.”

“Go fuck yourself, asshole!” You struggled in his grip, kicking your legs and wriggling wildly. “You don’t own me, no one owns me, no one has any right to treat me like this so fuck you!” You proclaimed furiously. “I’m nobody’s sweet little Omega and I will tear your dick off if you touch me again!” You were screaming at this point, so incredibly outraged that you were seeing red.

“What are you gonna’ do to me? You can’t even fight back.” Brock sneered. “Until I decide to let you go, you’re stuck. So do me a favor and stop wasting my time, little bitch.” His fingers dug in harshly but instead of crying out in pain you spat at him, refusing to be cowed. “I know you’re gonna’ change your tune the second you see my cock, you Omegas are all the same. Once I wreck you, Ambrose won’t come within thirty yards of your sorry ass.”

You jerked your head to the side and sank your teeth into his hand. Brock responded by slamming your back against the wall so hard you saw stars for a second.

“Don’t push your luck-”

The door to the room opened and Ambrose half-fell through the doorway, barely catching himself in time. “What are you fuckin’ doing?” He asked Lesnar bluntly, his teeth clicking loudly at the end of the sentence. Dean looked feverish, his hair messy and eyes wild.

I’ve got some meds to regulate it for when the spigot turns back on, mostly because if I didn’t I could probably tear a stack of phonebooks for kicks.

You gulped. “Ambrose why are you so fucking obnoxious?” Brock grunted. Dean didn’t bother to respond, he simply latched onto Lesnar’s fingers and peeled one of his hands off your shoulders. You dropped to the floor and then with an ugly twist of his wrist, Ambrose snapped every finger on Brock’s hand.

“Keep it up, Lesnar. Give me an excuse t’ send ya’ ass t’ the fuckin’ ER.” Ambrose snarled. “Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time? I figured you’d appreciate the black eye, but I guess you’re more hands-on than that.”

“You broke my fucking fingers!”

“You had the Omega trapped, not much choice.” Ambrose shrugged. “My job description is ‘any means necessary’.” His footing was unsteady, the slender man almost falling over when he managed to pull you upright. “Are you alright, Omega? Anythin’ hurt?” He asked, straightening out your blouse clumsily.

You threw your arms around him, hugging him as fiercely as you could. Dean stiffened for a second before he returned your embrace, holding you tight to his chest and cradling the back of your head like he had the first day you had met.

“Are you alright?” He asked again, quieter this time. “Did he hurt you?”

“N-no, I’m okay. I had it under control.” You selfishly buried your face in his shirt, inhaling his scent deeply.

“I noticed.” Dean whispered.

“You're gonna' fucking pay for this, Ambrose!” The larger Alpha swore, easily ripping Dean away from you and delivering a blow to the smaller man's jaw that snapped his head to the side. “After I'm done with you, you'll eat through a straw for the rest of your life!” Brock raged, his broken hand cupped to his chest.

Dean shook his head and then bared his teeth, blue eyes wide and pupils blown in a fixated stare. “And I was gonna' let you live, too.” He rasped, giving a harsh bark of mirthless laughter. He caught your arm and pushed you towards the door, his fingers lingering on your skin longer than he needed to. “Get Hunter, Omega. Be good for me, okay?” His scent was saturated with Alpha smell, strong enough to take your breath away.

“But-!”

Ambrose didn't have another second of attention to spare, throwing himself bodily at Lesnar and flooring him. The last thing you saw before fleeing to go find Mr. Helmsley was Dean straddling Brock, the slim Alpha ranting swears while the two of them swung wildly at each other.

…

What was left of Brock Lesnar was blackballed from King's Game and all its subsidiaries. Which may have stretched further than you had anticipated. Dean was released into the care of Rollins and Reigns. According to Mr. Helmsley he was a little too far gone to be trusted with driving himself home. “He’ll be fine in a few days.” The older Alpha assured you, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “He bounces back pretty quick. Tough kid, Ambrose.”

You spent the weekend quietly. You were shaken by the fact that while Ambrose clearly displayed dominant tendencies, he hadn’t ever tried to assert that dominance over you. He also hadn’t thought for a second about taking a piece out of Brock, recklessly lunging at the larger man.

Was it because Brock had gone after you? Or was simply because he had hit Dean? Ambrose had seemed to be in his right mind until he had been punched, then he had obviously lost the battle with his surging hormones. Now that you thought on it, if what Dean had said was true, Brock was probably lucky to be alive.

Dean wasn’t at work on Monday or Tuesday. When Wednesday came, you marched straight to the Alpha Program office and banged on the door.

Seth opened the door, staring down at you momentarily. “Uh. Yes?” He asked after an awkward pause.

“I need Dean’s address.” You said firmly.

“Ha! Pay up, Rollins.” Reigns called from his desk across the room, chuckling while Seth swore under his breath and dug into his pocket for his wallet.

“Why do you want Ambrose’s info?” Rollins questioned you warily. “He’s not in the greatest shape right now, and I dunno’ if he’s fit comp-”

“He lit into Lesnar and I want to know why.”

“Brock put his hands on you. Dean takes his job very seriously.” Seth explained like you were a child, making you bristle.

“But why pummel the guy? Not that I’m ungrateful, mind you. It just seemed like overkill is all.” You wrinkled your nose. “I don’t know. I guess I just want to talk to him. Make sure he’s alright. I haven’t felt okay since that day and I…” You trailed off, feeling that familiar blush creep up your neck.

“Ah. Talk.” Roman cleared his throat. “I don’t know if he’ll be in the proper headspace for speech. But hey, maybe having you there will help him come back around.”

“Is he really that far gone?”

“The spat with Lesnar pushed him further than it should have. He’s been mostly non-verbal whenever Rollins or I check on him.” Roman shrugged. “He’s not hurting himself. He’s all bundled up in a blanket den like usual, it’s just that he’s not talking. Dean gets into his own head sometimes and there’s not a whole lot we can do about it except let him know that we’re there for him if he needs us.”

“Will he hurt me if I show up?”

“Ambrose ain’t like that.” Seth answered sharply. “He’s a couple sandwiches short, yeah, but he’s never violent without a reason. He thinks the world of you.” He stopped, looking embarrassed. “Uh, not in like…a creepy way or anything. Just, y’know, you’re important to him, I guess.” He floundered.

“Okay.” You took a deep breath. “So give me his address.”

…

Ambrose lived in a rougher neighborhood and you were immensely thankful that your heat had passed. You weren’t sure you would have been as confident if it still had your body in its grip. Even in your right mind, you spent a solid five minutes talking yourself up in the car. “C’mon, Rollins said he wouldn’t hurt you. You don’t even think he would hurt you, you big baby.” You shut the car door behind you firmly, straightened out your skirt and headed for the apartment complex stairwell.

Reigns had given you Dean’s door code, stating that he was unsure if Ambrose would be able to answer the door in his current state. The lock clicked open under your fingers and you let yourself into Dean’s apartment, knocking your knuckles against the wood of the door to announce your presence. “Ambrose?” The first thing that hit you was the smell, Alpha scent so strong it made your head spin and knees weak. You braced yourself on the chair beside the door, trying to clear your head.

The second thing you noticed was that the whole apartment was dark. Daylight filtered in weakly through the curtains, but other than that the place was in shadow.

You put the small bag of groceries that you had picked up before coming over onto the counter, noting with worry that there were no dirty dishes in the sink. “Dean?” You called a little louder, thoroughly concerned now. “Hey, where are you? Roman and Seth said that you’d be here.”

Behind you there was the sound of a door creaking open. You whirled just in time to see Dean unfolding his lanky form from a pantry that was definitely not meant to be a living space. He spilled out onto the floor and laid there for a minute, before he turned his head to the side and groaned pitifully.

“Dean!” You dropped to your knees, forgoing your usual Omega propriety in favor of touching his shoulder. “Dean, oh my God. Are you alright?” After another long minute he raised his head slightly, dazed blue eyes trying hard to focus on your face. “Dean, it’s me. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” You said quietly.

Dean’s reply was a hum that turned into a low moan, his forehead hitting the floor again with a dull thud. “Om’ga.” He slurred. “Thought y’ were th’ guys. Y’kay? Lesn’r come back? I’ll geddup, ‘ll kick his ass again…” Ambrose struggled to do just that, shoving himself into a sitting position. He then inhaled deeply and you watched his pupils dilate. “Y’ didn’t need to come over here. M’ fine. Just been in my den.”

“Is that what you call the pantry?”

“Small, dark. Quiet. I need that when I’m like this.” His voice sounded shot.

“Can I get you something to drink?” You offered. Dean flailed an arm out until he caught hold of a drawer pull, hauling himself partially upright. You grabbed his free hand and managed to help him the rest of the way.

“Fuck’s sake.” He rasped, holding tight to your arm. The knuckles on his hands were still cracked and yellow-green bruised, presumably from his fight with Lesnar. “Feel like hot garbage. Why y’ here?” He asked wearily, his head lolling back momentarily.

“I’ve been worried about you.” You said, a little plainer than you had intended.

Ambrose jerked his head up to look at you, obviously startled. “You…what?” You propped him up against the counter and filled him a glass of water from the sink, which he quickly drank. “Om’ga m’ serious, wh…what did y’ say?”

“I was worried about you.” You whispered, twiddling your fingers nervously.

“Why?” Ambrose asked bluntly.

“I don’t know, because you got into a fight with an Alpha who’s at least twice your size? If I had just-”

Ambrose placed a finger on your lips, stopping the flow of words. “Y’ not gettin’ raped while I’m on th’ fuckin’ clock, un’nerstan’? Don’t care how sick I am.”

“But if I had let him-” You tried to continue your previous train of thought.

“No. There’s no gray area here, Om’ga. Not allowed. No is no, always has been. Y’ did th’ right thing by fightin’ back.” Dean closed his eyes, tilting his head back to bump the cupboards. “I saw him fuckin’ pinnin’ you there an’…thought I was too late. Got so scared.” He confessed. “Needed you t’ leave. Wouldn’t hurt you, but…but I didn’t want y’ afraid of me if I fucked him up.”

“Is he at least fun to punch?” You asked dryly.

Dean’s drawn-out groan of a response sounded downright filthy. “So much fun.” He dragged a hand through his hair, finally seeming to notice the shopping bag you had brought in. “Whuss’at?”

“Dinner. I didn’t know how sick you were, so I um. I brought dinner.” You fought down the feelings of self-consciousness when Dean’s face became guarded. “It’s pretty basic stuff, but I know when I’m knee-deep in heat there’s nothing better than not having to make your own food.”

“Omega, m' okay. You don't need to--y'know.” Dean fell silent. When he spoke again, his voice was much quieter. “I already tol' y' that I'm a big kid. Don't have to take care of me or say shit I wanna' hear. Which one of th' guys put y' up to this? Bet it was Rollins.”

“Nobody put me up to anything, why is that so hard to believe?” You asked, thoroughly irritated.

“It wouldn' be th' firs' time, is all. Don't mean t' be all weird abou'it.”

“I'm here because I was worried sick about you, and I wanted to know why you went after Lesnar so hard even after you got him to let me go.”

“Make sure he never did it again. He shouldn't have put his hands on you.” Ambrose snarled. “He talked so much shit when you weren't around, tryin'a rile me up n' get under m' skin. Fuckin' rattlin' on about how I mus' be fuckin' you, there's no other reason I'd take on the job 'cept to get first crack at an Omega, righ'?” He said bitterly. “It's Alphas like him that made me apply in the first place, an' look at me. Stooped to his fuckin' level th' firs' chance I could get away with it.”

“But you were on the opposite side of it!” You protested.

“It don't fuckin' matter. I went full rut-brain and hauled off on someone. Coulda' killed him.” Dean muttered grimly. “Been thinkin' about it this whole time. If Hunter hadn't gotten there when he did...Christ, was so fuckin' mad.” You wrapped your arms around him impulsively, hugging him tight. Dean actually moaned at the display of affection, his cheek dropping to rest on the top of your head. “Omega, y' can't...”

“I can.” You said softly.

“I won't prove him right, Omega.” Ambrose whispered, his hands trembling when he rested them on your hips. “I won't accept a reward for bein' someone like him, some domineerin' Alpha fuckstick.”

“I'm not a reward, I'm a human being. A lot of time and effort goes into me, Ambrose. I expect you to appreciate that.” You said huffily into his chest. “I'm hell on wheels during my heat if I'm not on suppressants and I don't fully understand how bad you get during your own spells, but I'm willing to try if you are.”

“Y' willin'?” Dean tipped your chin up, searching your eyes with his own. “Are y' serious?” You kissed him on the mouth instead of answering and he startled you with a gravelly whimper, his body going slack against yours while he cupped your face and kissed you back. “God, Omega, I've been goin' out of my mind, I wanted t' ask, wanted t' do it right.” He breathed. “I know I'm not much of an Alpha, m' skinny an' not nearly as dominant as I oughta' be, but...but God I want you. Wanted you t' want me, t’ take me as your mate.” He crooned helplessly in his throat. “Knew it from the first second I saw you, but you were so pretty. I don’t get pretty things.” He buried his face in your hair, rocking you back and forth. “I thought I fucked everythin' up when I went after Lesnar. Thought I scared you.”

“I was scared for you. I knew you weren't feeling well and I didn't want you to get hurt.” You assured him, boldly resting your hands on his hips.

Dean chuckled. “Ain't gotta' worry about me, Omega. Been in way worse shit than that.”

“Don't say that. I don't even want to think about you getting hurt.”

The Alpha groaned louder than you expected at your words. “I don't think anyone's ever not wanted me to get pummeled. You sure I ain't dreamin'?” You kissed him again, softer this time. “God, if I'm dreamin' don't wake me up.”

“Will you let me fix dinner?” You asked cautiously. “You can shower while I do that, might make you feel a little more human.”

Dean kissed your forehead, then teasingly rubbed his overgrown stubble across your cheek. “Not a fan of the mountain man look, Om’ga?”

“I didn’t say you had to shave!” You protested quickly, making him snort with laughter. “Just get washed up. Nothing better than a nice hot shower when you’re in heat, take my word for it. Yes, I know you’re not in heat, but I feel like a few of the rules are universal.” You ticked them off on your fingers as you spoke. “One, any food you don’t have to cook yourself is good food. Two, a hot bath is next to godliness. A hot shower will suffice, but it has to be hot. Three, if you need to cry because something hurts, that’s okay. And four, the most important one, be careful.”

“I ain’t gotten murdered in the shower yet, have I?” Dean looked troubled for a second. “Does…does it hurt when you have your heat? Where does it hurt? We learned that stomach soothe thing in our trainin’, but that can’t be all.”

“Ah, I personally get pains in the small of my back, my neck and shoulders. The stomach throbbing I think is universal, something to do with the reproductive areas going into overdrive with prep work.” You shrugged. “It’s so strange to me that there’s no concrete answer to essentially any Omega problem. It’s always a ‘possibility’ or some crap like that.”

“Tryin’ to keep you guys under everyone’s thumb.” Dean grunted, moving to scoop his blanket nest up out of the pantry. “More research means more informed folks like Doc Swagger, right? Can’t have that shit fixin’ their system.” He reasoned. His face reddened when he caught the incredulous look you were giving him. “My uh, my ma was an Omega.” He fumbled to explain, clinging tighter to the blankets as if they were a shield. “Never knew my dad.”

“Oh, so you’ve had a vested interest in that kind of thing.” You realized. Dean nodded wordlessly, ducking his face into the blankets. “Hey, don’t hide from me you goof, that’s a good thing.”

“Seth thinks it’s weird.” Dean muttered.

“Seth’s not an Omega, now is he? Of course he thinks it’s weird.” You chided. “I think it’s awesome that you pay attention to stuff like that.” You tugged the blankets down and kissed him again, smiling. “Now go get washed up.”

“God, just havin’ you around makes me feel more human.” He said dazedly. “Yeah, okay, shower. Goin’.”

You squealed quietly to yourself once you were sure he was in the shower, doing a giddy little shimmy before you started making dinner. He likes me! He’s liked me since the beginning! Your whole body still felt like it was buzzing happily from all the kisses and touches; you had never been touched tenderly by an Alpha before Dean. It had always been so clinical, as though being an Omega was contagious and no one else wanted to get infected.

Dean obviously didn’t give a damn, never shying away from the limited contact you had been bold enough to make. He seemed to welcome your hugs and kisses as well, so you made a mental note to do that as often as you thought you could get away with.

A still-stubbled chin rested on your shoulder and a set of strong arms wrapped around your midsection. “Miss me, Omega?” Dean asked, grunting when you wiggled back against him contentedly. “Think I’m about eighty-five percent human again. Makin’ mac n’ cheese?”

“Mm. Ultimate comfort food.” You nodded, continuing to stir the pasta. “Want to set your table, or should I?”

“I can manage it.” Dean pulled away, pecking the top of your head. “Thanks for takin’ care of me, Omega. Y’know you don’t have to, right?”

“I’m doing this because I want to, Alpha Ambrose.” You teased, making him rumble in his chest.

“Could get used to that.” He said finally, his tongue poking out from between his teeth when he smirked at you. The smirk vanished after you commented positively on his dimples, his face taking on a more bashful look while he set two bowls out on the counter. “Always thought they were out of place on the mug of a guy like me, y’know? Weird fuckin’ cherub smile.”

“You must have gotten away with so much when you were little.” You sighed. He grinned at you, silently indicating that he absolutely did. “Who am I kidding, you probably still raise hell.”

“Nah, Lesnar was my first fight in ages. There’s this thing called getting arrested, happened once or twice. Kinda’ not a fan of it so I’ve kept my nose clean.”

“Arrested? Never heard of it.”

“Yeah, it’s weird, it’s when ‘The Man’ decides he’s had enough of your semi-vigilante bullshit.” Dean snuck a taste of mac n' cheese out of the pot as you reached over to turn off the heat and he laughed when you swatted him on the shoulder. “Alright, alright, I'll be good! You gotta' hurry up though, m' starvin'.”

Dean, it turned out, didn't exactly have a kitchen table. His living room sort of...flowed into the kitchen and he apparently ate on his couch most of the time. He ended up hauling the worn coffee table in close enough to bump his knees when he sat down, then patted the space on the couch beside him.

“C'mere, Omega.” He urged, wrapping an arm around your shoulders when you obliged him. To your surprise, he scooped up a spoonful of cheesy pasta from his bowl and proceeded to feed it to you. Your brow furrowed in confusion as you chewed and swallowed, and Dean cocked his head to the side. “What is it?” He asked.

“You just said you were hungry.” You pointed out, tentatively accepting another mouthful of mac n' cheese.

“I am. But if you're my mate, if...if we're dating, you come first.” Dean said firmly. “So you eat, and then I'll eat.”

“How about we compromise?” You suggested, emptying your bowl out on top of his and then offering him a spoonful of your own pasta. “We'll eat from the same bowl. I'll feed you, and you can feed me.”

“Yeah?” Ambrose looked suspiciously misty-eyed for a second, before he cleared his throat and eagerly ate the comfort food. “M' old-fashioned, sorry.” He mumbled around his mouthful. “Never had anyone to share stuff with like this. I always thought I'd have t' bring a fresh-killed deer to someone's parents or somethin'. But I guess sittin' in my apartment eatin' cheesy mac ain't so bad.”

“Think you can live with the disappointment?” You grinned.

“Oh, I'll manage somehow.”

His quiet murmurs of contentment slowly turned into outright purring as the evening went on, and you found yourself petting his hair while the two of you watched television. “Hey, can you look at me for a second?” You requested softly, making Dean tilt his head up. “Hi.” You kissed him and he moaned into your mouth, seeming caught off-guard.

“Omega, fuck.” He breathed. “Hi. Huh.” He shuddered all over. “One more of those and I'll wreck my pants. Go easy on me.”

“Why? Do you get like it when I kiss you?” You asked, giggling when Dean nodded wildly. “What else could I possibly do to you, if that's all it takes?”

“Everything.” Dean growled, twining his fingers with your own. “Everything and anything is great. Kiss me, bite me.” He was all but begging, baring his neck and burying his face in your shoulder. “Bite me, bite me please.”

You blushed bright red, licking your lips at his invitation. “Are...Are you sure? What if I hurt you?”

“I dare you.” You mouthed over his neck and he sobbed out a breath against your shoulder, his body twitching. “God, please, please Omega, just-” Your teeth dug in, canines crushing down. Dean froze for a second, almost long enough for you to get worried. “Fuck.” He snarled, “Yeah, you're perfect.”

“More?” You asked, squeaking when he yanked his shirt off and pulled you into his lap. His eyes met your own and the two of you just stared at each other for a moment. “More.” You announced.

“You're my mate.” Dean replied, cradling the back of your neck when you nosed across his shoulder. “Whatever you want, just keep biting me.” You sank your teeth in harder this time, giving a growl of your own when Ambrose rolled his hips. Your skirt rode up on your thighs. “You want to go further, Omega? We can if you want to.”

“You say while I have a mouthful of your neck.”

“Hey, don't talk with your mouth full.” Dean scolded, carding his fingers through your hair. You giggled and he started laughing as well after a second, his smile warm when he looked down at you. “What do you want from me, Omega?”

“A lot of things.” You answered truthfully, pulling your skirt up out of the way. Dean's eyes widened gratifyingly when you ground yourself against the swell of his cock in his jeans. “A specific thing right now, if you're interested.”

“Jesus Christ, if.” Dean unbuttoned his jeans, biting his lip when you pushed his hand away and unzipped his zipper. “You're dangerous, know that?” He rasped. “Checkin' up on me, feedin' me.”

“I have to take care of my Alpha.” You said simply.

“Yours, Omega. All yours. As long as you'll have me.” Dean spoke just as plainly as you, cupping your cheek. “Until you leave.”

“I'm not going to.”

“I sure as hell hope not.” He watched hungrily while you shed your panties, rumbling when he saw the slick that shone in the dim light. “Fuck, you can't still be...”

“No, m' just wet.” You rose up onto your knees and Dean shivered in anticipation, his thighs tight beneath you. “It's much worse when I'm in heat, trust me. Half the time I don't even bother with underwear.”

“You say that like it's a bad thing.” He sighed, gripping the base of his cock and giving himself a lazy stroke. “If that ain't a turn-on, I dunno' what is.”

“Good to know.” Dean's knuckles brushed the soft skin on your thigh and then he pulled away, letting you slowly lower yourself onto his cock. You weren't able to hold back a moan and he echoed your noise, sounding desperate. His fingers dug into the couch on either side of his body when you were fully seated, and you panted out a few shallow breaths as you tried to get used to the size of him. “God, Dean.” You gasped.

“Oh Jesus, fuck.” Dean grunted, whimpering when you snapped your teeth back down into his neck. “Yes, good Omega, good Omega, bite me, mark me.” He urged, his eyes rolling back in his skull as you tugged at his hair and began riding him. “Best Omega, don't be shy little Omega, fuck me, fuck me-”

You leaned back, using your hold on his hair to make him watch his dick slide in and out of you. “You like it? You like the way I take your Alpha cock?” You crooned, his passive behavior driving you to quicken your pace. He still had his hands clenched into fists on the cushions, like he was afraid to touch you. “Fuck up into me like you mean it, Alpha. Claim me.” You demanded. His hips bucked once, shallowly, and you ground down onto him.

“Don't want to hurt you.” He groaned, his hands seeming to move of their own accord despite his words. Dean palmed your thighs, only tightening his grip after you nodded encouragingly. “Won't hurt you. Your Alpha's gonna' make you come.”

“Yes please!” You begged, leaning into his touch.

“Look at you, taking every inch of me. What a good Omega you are.” Dean praised, “You needed this, didn't you? Needed your Alpha inside you to fill you up. Alpha's here.” He thrust his cock up, snarling, “Alpha's right here to give you what you need, tell him what you need. You need it harder? You need it faster?” You could have cried with relief when he crushed you down to sit in his lap again, his dominant tendencies shining through. “Grind on your Alpha's cock.” He ordered and you obeyed, making him grit out a swear. “Hah, fuck, Omega, you're so tight around me, fuck--”

“I'm a good Omega, right?” You panted, and Dean pressed his forehead to yours. “M' a good Omega, make you feel good?”

“God fucking dammit Omega, this is the fucking best I've ever felt in my life.” He growled, “Come for me, c'mon, get my knot fuckin' slick for you, do it, do it-” The bulge at the base of his cock throbbed against you, prodding thickly at your pussy with delicious intent. Just the thought that something so big would be inside you in a matter of moments was enough to make you arch your back and grind down even faster, your pubic mound bucking against his stomach in a frantic bid for completion.

Your orgasm surged through you, sending jolts up and down your spine where Dean gripped you fiercely. In the midst of it all, his knot slipped into you and you buried your face in his shoulder, crying out loudly and circling your hips. “Oh sweetheart, oh God, God are you alright? Are you alright?” Dean gasped, trembling fingers combing through your hair soothingly. “Jesus, I'll stop if you're not alright Omega, need to tell me y' okay.”

You managed to give him a thumbs up, making him moan in what seemed to be relief. His knot throbbed inside of you and then he grunted, coming hard. You sucked in a breath at the sensation of being mated, claimed and proven worthy by your Alpha's knot like you were an Omega out of the history books.

“Fuck.” Dean breathed. “Fuck. I've never knotted anyone before.” He mumbled finally. “Never had it engage. Holy fuck, you're my mate.”

“I'm your mate?” You echoed, unable to hide your smile.

Dean appeared to be in the same boat, his eyes going wide with the realization. “I'm your mate.”

“You're my mate.” You kissed his forehead. “My Alpha.”

“My Omega. I...God, wow. That sounds...that sounds really great.” He smiled up at you, his curls a frazzled mess and blue eyes bright with affection. “My Omega-mate.” You relaxed into Dean's arms and he began humming softly, continuing to stroke your hair and plant the occasional kiss on the top of your head. “Take a breather, Omega. We've got time.” He murmured. “Sleep good.”

Sleep good.

1K notes · View notes

doomedhowell · 7 years

Text

Someone Like You

Summary: Dan is a famous youtuber with millions of subscribers, his channel growing everyday. He’s not your typical channel though; he loves beauty, fashion, and makeup. Girls love him, boys hate him. He’s a teenager who still goes to high school. He gets bullied, but he’s also deaf so he doesn’t hear any of it. He wears hearing aids but turns them off whenever he needs to.

Phil is a punk covered in tattoos. He’s a newly single parent who works hard to keep his son safe. Phil’s not popular, but it’s not like he gets bullied either. He has a couple of friends who support him and that’s good enough.

Dan’s the new kid at his school and they cross paths. They find out their soulmates on Dan’s first day of school, and have different opinions on the whole situation. Will they be able to make it work? Or fall apart?

Genre: AU, Fluff

Word Count: 5,610

Trigger Warnings: swearing, Phil’s a bit judgemental towards Dan at the beginning

A/N: Thanks so much to @lexi-love99 for being awesome and betaing this fic!

“Mum, I’ll be fine,” Dan groans as he listens to his mum talk about his new school.

“I just want to be sure, Daniel. You know that I worry about you and how people at school will treat you. Your last school did not treat you very well,” Mrs. Howell sighs.

“It’s not like anything will bother me. I’ll just turn my hearing aids off like I usually do,” Dan shrugs as he reaches down and grabs his backpack. “This is a new school so I doubt anyone will know who I am.”

“What happens when someone gets physical with you, though? And sweetheart, you have millions of fans on that youtube channel of yours. Someone is bound to recognize you or find out,” Mrs. Howell argues.

“Mum,” Dan warns softly as he looks over at his worried mother. “I have to go now, or I’ll be late.”

“Fine. Just, at least… promise me you’ll call me if anything happens?” She asks.

“I promise mum,” Dan says. He reaches over and gives her a hug before opening the door. He fixes the flower crown on his head before stepping out of the car. “See you after school.”

“Have a good day!” Mrs. Howell shouts before driving off.

Dan finally turns around and takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the worst. Even though he had been acting totally calm around his mum, he really is terrified about going to a new school. He got bullied at his last school and he doesn’t want the same thing to happen again. He just wants a normal school experience although that’s nearly impossible when you’re semi famous and you have a disability.

On the plus *side?*, maybe he’ll finally meet his soulmate. He’s sixteen years old and now that he actually knows what a soulmate is… he’s been paying attention to the writing on his wrist. They haven’t glowed yet but Dan’s looking forward to the day he finally gets to meet his soulmate.

The words ‘let me see’ are written on Dan’s wrist, and Dan’s curious about his soulmate’s first interaction.

Dan walks into the school building and walks straight to the principal’s office.

“Ah, hello there. You must be Daniel Howell, our newest student. Welcome to Golden Valley High School,,” the lady at the front desk says the minute she sees Dan walking up to her.

“Actually, it’s just Dan,” he says, correcting her politely.

“Oh? But, I thought you were deaf?” The lady asks curiously. “That’s what I was told, anyways…”

“I am. Hearing aids,” Dan says as he points to the device in his ear.

“Oh, wonderful! So you won’t be needing a translator or anything like that?” She asks.

“No ma’am. I have them on for all of my classes,” Dan says. “Only turn them off in the hallway.”

“That’s great news. Well, here’s your schedule-”

Dan thanks the lady, Mrs. White, as he takes the piece of paper from her.

“And I’m always at the office if you have any questions, or you can ask the guidance for any advice. So... do you need any help getting around? I can have someone show you your classes,” Mrs. White says.

“No, thank you, though. I should be fine, but I’ll be sure to let you know if I need any help,” Dan says. He gives her a friendly smile before walking out of the office. He sighs as he looks around him and then he turns off his hearing aids. He surprisingly hasn’t encountered any bad interactions with other students yet, but just to be sure. He is the new kid, and kind of famous, so anything could happen, really.

****

“Did you hear we were getting a new kid today?” Chris asks as he sits next to PJ at their usual lunch table.

“Ugh, what’s the big deal?” Phil asks, rolling his eyes. “It’s literally all everybody’s talking about today.”

“Because we haven’t had a new student in ages,” PJ adds, looking up at Phil.

“And apparently, he’s deaf. I haven’t seen him yet though so it might be false information,” Chris adds.

“Maybe you shouldn’t spread that rumor around then,” Phil chuckles and shakes his head.

“It’s already spreading around,” PJ sighs. “So, are you coming over this weekend, Philip?”

“I can’t,” Phil groans. “I have to get Noah from the daycare today and watch him this weekend.”

“Fuck. Why did you have to go get a girl pregnant?” Chris asks. “You can’t do anything these days.”

“Hey, you’re the one who forced me to going to that party and got me drunk, and then I’m the idiot who had unprotected sex with a girl” Phil defends quickly. “So, it’s not entirely my fault.”

“He does have a point,” PJ agrees, nodding. “Oh well. Noah is adorable though.”

“Thanks. I guess if there’s one thing good to come out of this then it’s that we know I’m good at making adorable babies,” Phil laughs. “Maybe if I get a job and make enough money, I can get a nanny.”

“A nanny? He’s just a baby. Don’t you want to spend as much time with him?” PJ asks curiously.

“Well, yeah. But I’m still a kid too. My social life has gone down since he was born. His mother doesn’t help and I practically have to raise him by myself. My parents help sometimes but they have lives too. Like, I just want a nanny for the weekends so I can hang out with my friends. That’s all,” Phil shrugs before letting out a sigh. “I really do love Noah to death but… it’s not easy being a single parent.”

“It makes sense,” Chris nods. “About this new kid… do you think he’s hot? Maybe he’s gay. God, I hope.”

“Chris,” Phil laughs and shakes his head. “You’re such an idiot.”

Chris sticks his tongue out at Phil. “There’s hardly any gay boys at this school. Can you blame me?”

“You’re sitting with two of them now!” PJ exclaims before rolling his eyes, annoyance showing on his face.

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna be banging either of you two so that doesn’t matter,” Chris argues.

“We are not seriously having this conversation right now,” Phil groans as he face palms.

“Aw, Philly, are you blushing?” Chris asks, grinning as he looks over at Phil, seeing the redness on Phil’s cheeks brighten. “That’s so cute. I never see you blush. Wait, let me take in this moment.”

“I’m not listening to you. La, la, la-” Phil grumbles as he covers his ears.

“Okay, knock it off Chris,” PJ laughs as he watches his two friends. “Class is about to start. Come on.”

“Are you actually going to class though?” Chris asks, raising his eyebrows.

“I don’t know yet. I’m tempted to see if this new kid is in any of our classes,” PJ replies with a shrug.

“I miss skipping class,” Phil pouts. “I haven’t been able to skip in weeks.”

“Why can’t you?” Chris asks. “We used to skip all the time together. It’s not the same just me and Peej.”

“I have a child, y’know? Responsibilities and shit,” Phil shrugs before taking a drink of his Mountain Dew.

“Responsibilities sound boring,” Chris scoffs and shakes his head. “That’s why I’m enjoying being a teenager while I can. Sorry Phil. I’ll make sure to have twice as much fun for you.”

Phil stares at Chris for a moment before looking over at PJ. “How do you deal with him all the time?”

PJ laughs. “Beats me. It makes for good entertainment though,”

After lunch, Phil makes it to his next period class. He has Math class next, his least favorite subject. And Phil still hasn’t seen any sight of this new kid, that everybody keeps talking about. He’s curious about him and he wonders if he’s going to have any classes with him.

Phil sighs tiredly as he sits down in his seat. He pulls out his phone to check to see if he had any messages from the daycare. Luckily he’s friends with one of the girls who work there so she always sends him updates about Noah. It makes him feel slightly better about leaving Noah at the daycare.

“Phil, how’s that little boy of yours?”

Phil looks up instantly at the teacher and smiles. “Oh, he’s fine. Thank you for asking,”

“That’s wonderful. He’s absolutely gorgeous. The pictures you post are just… so darn cute,”

“Oh, thank you. Yeah, he’s amazing. I wish I got to spend more time with him though,”

“Well, I can only imagine that being a single teenage parent with a newborn baby and trying to juggle school all at once can be complicated,” Mrs. Jameson says. “I have to give you props for caring for that baby, though.”

Phil nods, and then he looks back down at his phone to continue checking his messages. He still finds it a little bit weird that his teacher’s know about his son. Obviously they were going to find out but they ask about him all the time and he never knows what to say, since he doesn’t see his son very often.

The classroom quickly starts being filled with students after a minute or so, and then suddenly Phil can feel a pair of eyes on him. He looks up from his phone, and then he sees him.

There’s a boy with brown hair and chestnut brown eyes standing in the doorway, with books in his arms, and he’s staring directly at Phil with wide eyes.And Phil knows exactly who this boy is.

Phil stands up instantly and walks over to him. He grabs his arm and drags him out of the classroom, and takes him to the bathroom. Once they’re alone, Phil turns and looks at him.

“Let me see,” Phil says as he stares at the boy.

The boy takes a deep, nervous breath and holds his wrist out, and turns it, revealing the words ‘let me see’ on his wrist. “Nice to meet you. I’m Dan,” he says, a small smile forming on his face.

Phil also turns his wrist over, revealing the words ‘nice to meet you’. The words are also now glowing, which gives confirmation that this boy is indeed his soulmate.

“Whoa,” Phil whispers before looking up at Dan. “You’re my soulmate?”

“I suppose so,” Dan nods and places his books on the counters. “This is… um, weird. I definitely wasn’t expecting to find my soulmate on the first date of a brand new school.”

“Oh, welcome Dan. My name is Phil,” Phil says. “I was wondering when I’d get to see the new kid. However, I definitely wasn’t expecting the new kid to be my soulmate.”

“So, what do we do now?” Dan asks, fiddling with his shirt nervously.

“I’m… not really sure, to be honest. I wasn’t expecting to find my soulmate so soon like this. I mean, just… my life has been so hectic lately that I haven’t even really been paying attention to finding my soulmate,”

“Your life has been hectic? How so?” Dan asks curiously.

“Well, I’ve just recently had a baby with a total stranger,” Phil tells him. “That should explain it.”

Dan makes a face of disgust. “Why would you want to have a baby so young?” He asks.

“I didn’t want a baby in the first place. It’s not like I planned for this to happen. My stupid friends took me to a party where there was alcohol involved. Hey, don’t judge me. You don’t even know anything about me,” Phil snaps as he crosses his arms against his chest angrily. “What about you? I’m sure you’re not perfect.”

“No, I’m definitely not perfect. I’m deaf, and I wear hearing aids in order to hear,” Dan sighs.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I should have paid more attention,” Phil frowns.

Dan shrugs. “It’s like you said. You had no idea,” he mumbles.

“So, maybe we got off on the wrong foot. We should talk about this later?” Phil suggests.

“Yeah. Do you wanna exchange numbers or something?” Dan asks, a little disappointed that this is how his first encounter with his soulmate turned out. He’s learned about soulmates his whole life and has been waiting for this moment for a long time. Dan hopes that they’ll be able to work things out later.

After exchanging numbers quickly, they head out of the bathroom and head back to class.

“Care to explain where you two were?” Mrs. Jameson asks when they get back to the classroom.

“It was my fault. I apologize, Mrs. Jameson. I needed to talk to Dan about something important,” Phil says. He glances over at Dan before heading over to his seat and sitting down.

“You must be the new kid. Daniel, am I correct?” Mrs. Jameson asks.

“It’s Dan,” Dan corrects her. “Yes, I am new.”

“Well, since you two seem to get along. You can have a seat in the empty seat next to Phil,”

Dan looks over at Phil and sighs, before heading over and sitting in the empty seat next to him.

“Holy shit. You’re Dan Howell!” A girl in the back suddenly shouts.

Dan blinks a few times as he looks back at the girl. He had forgotten for a moment that people knew him.

“I see you all over youtube all the time. I’m obsessed with your videos!” She squeals excitedly.

“Thank you,” Dan whispers as he looks down at his hands, his cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. He wasn’t hoping that this wouldn’t happen but obviously, it was bound to happen with his million of subscribers that he has on youtube. Dan just hopes that it won’t be a problem.

“Enough, now. Emily, do not use that language in my classroom. First warning. Let’s do attendance,”

The second Phil gets home, after taking care of Noah of course, he grabs his laptop and goes straight onto youtube. He’s been curious about what that girl was talking about when she said she saw Dan on youtube. Phil is a huge youtube fanatic so he’s surprised that he’s never seen Dan online before.

Phil searches ‘Dan Howell’ into the youtube search bar and his channel instantly comes up. Dan’s profile picture is a picture of himself wearing bright colored clothing and a flower crown on his head. Phil raises his eyebrows and then shakes his head before clicking the channel.

It’s obvious that Dan is into more girlier things. His channel is practically all things lifestyle and beauty, with a few extra things like youtube tags and popular youtube trends.

“Are you joking me?” Phil groans. How are he and Dan ever going to get along? They’re total opposites!

Of course, there is that old saying ‘opposites attract’ but not in this case, Phil thinks. Phil’s gay, obviously, but he would just prefer to date someone that isn’t into so much girly stuff.

Phil hears the door open, and he quickly shuts his laptop. He’ll have to investigate Dan’s channel later.

“Phil? Are you home?”

“Yes, mum. I’m in the living room!” Phil shouts before grabbing the remote and turning on the TV.

Phil’s mum walks into the living room a moment later and smiles when she sees Phil. “How was school?”

“It was… interesting,” Phil admits. “We got a new student today. Turns out, he’s my soulmate.”

“You met your soulmate?” Kathryn asks excitedly, walking over to Phil and sitting next to him. “He’s a boy? That’s wonderful. What’s his name? Why isn’t he here right now?”

“His name is Dan. He’s deaf, and apparently he’s famous on youtube but I’ve never heard of him. I just looked at his channel and he has like six million subscribers. He’s like a beauty guru or something,”

“Oh, that’s interesting. So, basically… he’s like a total opposite of you?”

“Yeah. I have tattoos all over my arms and he wears flower crowns on his head,” Phil scoffs.

“Now, now. Don’t be like that. I’m sure everything will be just fine, Philip. Just… give him a chance,” Kathryn says softly. “I mean… he is your soulmate, after all.”

“But, mum. I don’t want to be with someone like that,” Phil groans.

“Phil,” Kathryn warns. “Don’t be so judgemental. So what if this Dan likes things that you don’t?”

“But we’ll never get along if we can’t find something in common,” Phil argues.

Kathryn sighs and shakes her head. “I’m just saying that you should give him a chance before you suddenly decide that you don’t want to be with him without getting to know him. You’ve just met this boy. He’s supposed to be the boy you spend the rest of your life with. Your soulmate. I’m going to start dinner.” She stands up from the couch and walks out of the living room without saying another word.

Phil groans and sinks down into the couch. He starts closing his eyes, but he snaps his eyes open the second he hears Noah crying. He knew Noah wouldn’t go to sleep “Noah, why?” He groans once more before getting up and heading back to his bedroom. He walks into the bedroom and sees Noah in his crib. He walks over and gently picks up the baby. “It’s okay, love. Daddy’s here,”

Phil decides to hang out in his room with Noah for a little while until dinner. He really thought about what PJ said earlier about spending as much time with Noah as he can while he was still a baby.

Noah is already two months old and Phil’s hardly spent any time at all with him.

If things do work out with Dan, somehow, Phil hopes that Dan will be okay with being around Noah. Because, there’s no way Phil is giving up his little boy to be with someone else.

“Yeah, he’s my soulmate,” Phil says as he talks with PJ and Chris on the phone.

It’s after dinner and Phil just had to tell someone about what happened. So, he called PJ and Chris.

“The new kid is your soulmate, and apparently he’s like… really famous? Damn,” Chris says.

Phil rolls his eyes. “I don’t think we’re going to work though,” he sighs.

“You literally just met the dude, Phil. Maybe you should get to know him first a little?” PJ suggests.

“Ugh. Now you’re starting to sound like my mother,” Phil grumbles.

“PJ does have a point though, Philly. This is your soulmate we’re talking about,” Chris agrees.

“Yeah, soulmates are a big deal. You shouldn’t let him go so easily,” PJ adds.

“Whatever. I have to go. Noah is calling for me,” Phil says before hanging up the phone.

Months pass and things don’t really change between Dan and Phil. They talk every once in awhile but they haven’t bothered to make any progress with their relationship but Phil isn’t that surprised.

“Have you talked to Dan at all?” PJ asks curiously one day as he stands beside Phil’s locker, as Phil is putting some books away from previous classes. It’s lunchtime now.

Phil raises his eyebrows as he looks over at PJ. “No. Why do you ask?”

“I just think you should try talking to him. I saw some other guy flirting with him the other day,” PJ says.

Phil sighs. “I told you that we weren’t going to work out,”

“You didn’t even try though. Do you know how many people are dying to meet their soulmate?”

“If I talk to Dan… will you please leave me alone about him?” Phil asks.

“Only if you really try talking to him. Not some half-assed one-time conversation,” PJ warns.

“Okay, whatever. I promise I’ll talk to him. I’ve just been busy with other stuff. You know… Noah?”

“You can have time for your child and a relationship. Can’t be that hard,” PJ shrugs.

“Hey, bitches!” Chris exclaims as he walks up to PJ and Phil. He walks up to PJ and kisses him.

Phil blinks a few times as he looks at them back and forth. “Um, when the hell did this happen?” He asks, quite shocked. “And why did nobody tell me that it even happened?” He asks, shutting his locker, and crossing his arms against his chest. “I thought you two weren’t…”

“We’re just having fun, relax dude,” Chris rolls his eyes. “We already know we’re not soulmates, and neither of us have found our soulmate. So, we figured we would just have some fun, while we can.”

“Is that a good idea? What if feelings get involved?” Phil asks.

“Not gonna happen,” PJ shakes his head. “My feelings are saved for my soulmate. Sorry, Chris.”

“I’m not offended. I understand where you’re coming from,” Chris shrugs.

“So, are we going to lunch, or… are we skipping?” Phil asks. “I could use a smoke…”

“No. We’re skipping, and you’re going to go find Dan and talk to him,” PJ smirks as he looks at Phil.

Chris raises his eyebrows as he looks over at PJ. “Why’s Phil gotta talk to Dan?” He asks curiously.

“Ugh. You’re so fucking annoying,” Phil grumbles before turning and walking away.

PJ laughs and grabs Chris’s hands. “They’re going to end up together. I told you,” he says.

It surprisingly doesn’t take very long for Phil to find Dan. He finds him in the library, at a computer.

Phil hesitates before finally walking over to Dan, and gently tapping on his shoulder. He chuckles softly when Dan jumps. Phil assumes he has his hearing aids turned off so he obviously didn’t hear him.

Dan turns and looks up, and is surprised when he sees Phil. He holds up his finger for a second and makes sure his hearing aid is turned on loud enough so that he can hear Phil.

“Yeah?” Dan asks, looking up at Phil again. “Did you need something?”

“Actually, yes. I was… wondering, if I could talk to you?” Phil asks. “Like, in the bathroom, or something.”

“Oh… okay. Yeah. Let me just save my work,” Dan says. He quickly saves what he was working on, and turns off the computer before standing up and following Phil out of the library.

Phil leads the way into the bathroom. He looks around to make sure no one else is around, before turning and looking at Dan. “I’m sorry this is so random but… I think we should talk,” he says quietly.

“You think?” Dan asks, raising his eyebrows as he looks up at Phil.

“Okay, I know it’s mostly my fault that we haven’t talked, and I apologize. I just haven’t had any time for anything else other than my son. He’s getting older and more difficult to care for,” Phil explains.

Dan bites his lip. “I understand. I’ve been busy too. I mean, not to your extent but… I have things to do. I’ve been trying to keep up with my youtube channel and do school at the same time. It’s tough,” he says. “But I’ve been wanting to meet my soulmate ever since my mother told me about them when I was little. I’ll admit, that I was a little disappointed we never talked.”

“Well, how about we change that?” Phil asks, a smile forming on his face. “Maybe we could hang out this weekend? I’m sure I can have my mum watch Noah for a few hours on Friday or something.”

“Actually…” Dan bites his lip nervously. “I haven’t been around many children because they terrify me, but… you are my soulmate. Maybe Noah could hang out with us. I’d like to get to know him too.”

Phil smiles even bigger. “That would be great. Noah is like the calmest baby ever. He’s so chill, so I think you would really like him. So, we can hang out Friday, then? You can come over to my house,”

“Yeah. That would be lovely,” Dan smiles. “Thank you, Phil.”

“Of course. I mean, it’s about time we started talking. Better late than never,” Phil chuckles.

“Hey, we had a bit of a rough start but, I bet we can turn that around,” Dan says.

“Absolutely. Well then, I’ll let you get back to whatever work you were doing. Sorry for interrupting you,” Phil says, blushing lightly. “I’ll text you later with my address.”

“Okay, sounds good to me. And, no need to apologize. I’m glad you talked to me,” Dan grins.

Phil walks Dan back to the library, before heading towards the lunch room, but isn’t surprised when he sees no sign of Chris and PJ, which means that they definitely skipped.

Phil pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to PJ, asking where he and Chris were.

Phil is actually kind of excited about hanging out with Dan this weekend. Maybe he was too quick to judge, and maybe they will be able to find things in common. At least, Phil hopes they’ll be able to. He thinks that he and Dan can really make this work if they both put in the effort.

Friday finally rolled around after a slow and long week, while Phil is excited about hanging out with Dan, he’s a little nervous. He’s not going to be hanging out with just Dan. Noah will be around and while Noah is a very well behaved baby, he’s still nervous that something will go wrong.

“Alright Noah. It’s time for a pep talk,” Phil says as he sits on the couch, watching Noah play with toys. “Dan is coming over soon, and he’s very important. He’s my soulmate, and potentially… your second dad, only if things go right of course. I need you to be on your very best behavior. Can you do that for dad?”

Noah only makes a noise and crawls over to Phil, reaching up for him.

Phil laughs and picks Noah up. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says.

Ten minutes later, there’s finally a knock at the door.

Phil gasps and stands up with Noah in his arms. “I’ll get it!” He shouts. Phil takes a quick look around, making sure everything is clean enough, before walking to the door.

Phil takes a deep breath before reaching over and opening the door. He looks up and smiles when he sees Dan standing there. “Hey, come in,” he says, moving aside so Dan can walk in.

“You have a lovely home,” Dan says as he looks around.

“Thank you. Sorry if it’s a mess. It’s hard to keep your house clean when you have a baby,” Phil chuckles. “Speaking of babies… this is Noah,” Phil says, looking down at Noah. “My son.”

Dan looks over and smiles when he sees Noah. “He’s cute. He looks exactly like you,”

“Thank God,” Phil laughs. “I don’t think I’d have liked it very much if he had looked like his useless mother.”

“I can tell you’re a great dad, already. And, that mickey mouse outfit is so cute!” Dan squeals excitedly.

Phil laughs. “So, do you want anything to drink? Snacks? We can order pizza or something…”

“Oh no, it’s fine. But… could I maybe have a drink?” Dan asks shyly. “Anything is fine. I’m not picky.”

“Of course you can! Follow me,” Phil smiles and leads the way to the kitchen.

Once Dan and Phil get settled in, and comfortable in the living room, they instantly begin talking.

Phil is surprised at how well they’re getting along, despite their differences.

“So, you’re a youtuber?” Phil asks, looking over at Dan. “I looked at your channel.”

“Oh,” Dan blushes. “You looked at my channel? What did you think about it?”

“I’ve gotta be honest, it’s definitely not my style. But, I think it’s kind of cool that you’re being different, and doing what you want to do. Clearly people love your video. I mean, ten million views? That’s insane,”

Dan giggles. “I’m just as shocked as you are,” he says. “I mean… I’m just a deaf kid who loves beauty and makeup stuff. I never thought people would actually watch my videos.”

“Honestly, sometimes I forget that you’re deaf,” Phil admits.

“I get that a lot. Thank God for my hearing aids. They’re literally my life saver,” Dan says, sighing. “Plus, they help with bullying at school. Once people realize that I’m deaf, they think I’m an easy target. I just turn off my hearing aids so I can’t hear what people are saying about me.”

“Honestly, I would do the same thing,” Phil says. “I imagine it would make things easier.”

“Hey, so… I was thinking. Do you wanna be in a video of mine?”

“A… what? Wh-What do you mean?” Phil asks nervously.

“So, I might have accidentally mentioned one time that I met my soulmate and my viewers have been asking about you ever since, and they would like to meet you,” Dan says. It’s okay if you don’t want to be, I totally understand. I just thought it would be a fun way for us to get to know each other as well.”

“Oh. I guess it would be fun,” Phil nods. “How would we film this video?”

“Do you have a high quality camera?” Dan asks. “I could ask my followers what they’d want to know…”

“I have a camera upstairs that I could get. Would you be okay with watching Noah for a minute?” Phil asks.

Dan hesitates but slowly nods. “I’ll try my best, but you can’t hate me if something goes wrong…”

Phil chuckles and then he hands Noah over to Dan. “Oh, it��ll be fine. Just let him play with his toys, and he’ll be good. He’s a very good boy with good manners,” Phil stands up and walks out of the living room.

Dan looks down at Noah. “You are cute,” he says.

Noah reaches up to try and grab Dan’s hearing aids but luckily Dan leans back so that he can’t. “No, no. Let’s not touch those. Those are very important,” he says. “Here-” He reaches down and grabs a toy and then he hands it to Noah. “How about that? That seems fun, yeah?”

Noah shakes the toy and giggles as music plays, surprising Dan, which then makes him laugh.

Phil comes back a minute later with a camera in his hands. He walks into the living room and smiles when he sees Dan sitting on the floor, playing blocks with Noah which he finds absolutely adorable.

Phil takes his phone out and takes a picture. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,”

Dan jumps at the sound of Phil’s voice, and looks over, and blushes when he sees Phil. “Oh, you’re back,”

“See. Babies aren’t so bad,” Phil says as he walks over to Dan.

“Well, maybe when they’re not screaming and crying all the time. Noah seems alright,” Dan says.

“So, are we filming this video now, or later?” Phil asks.

“Can we film it now? I kinda need to film a video edit. I’ve been drowning in homework all week,” Dan sighs before pushing himself up from the ground. “It’ll take less than a half an hour. Will Noah be okay?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. It’s actually time for him to take a nap. So, you can set up the camera and I’ll take Noah to his bedroom. It’ll take me a few minutes to get him down though. He’s very stubborn,” Phil grins.

While Phil goes off to put Noah to bed, Dan sets up the camera and asks his followers for questions.

Dan’s surprised that they’re getting along so well, considering they started off on the wrong foot. He’s just really glad that they are getting along, and he has hopes that things will work out in the future.

Dan and Phil film their first video together, and it only takes a half an hour.

“That was so fun,” Phil smiles as he looks over at dan. “Do you think your followers will like me?”

“Absolutely. They’re going to love you,” Dan grins. “Just like me.”

Phil can almost feel the redness on his cheeks. He hadn’t expected Dan to say that. “Dan? I’m really sorry for being such a dick to you in the beginning. I was being so judgemental towards you because of your clothes and the makeup you wear. But, just being we’re opposites doesn’t mean we can’t get along,”

“Everybody makes mistakes, right?” Dan smiles. He reaches over and kisses Phil’s cheek. “I’m not mad, and I never was mad at you. I don’t think we have to worry about our differences in this future.”

“I don’t think so either,” Phil smiles. “So, does this mean we’re like… dating now?”

“I guess so. Do you want to date someone like me? I mean… look at me. I’m-”

“Dan, shut up-” Phil gently grabs Dan’s shirt and then he pulls him closer so that Dan was nearly sitting on Phil’s lap, and then he pulls Dan into a soft and sweet kiss. Phil definitely wasn’t planning on kissing Dan today, but he was feeling confident after how well things were going between them.

Dan closes his eyes and melts into the kiss, kissing back instantly.

The kiss lasts for a few more seconds longer before Phil pulls away and takes a deep breath. “Wow,”

“Yeah. You can say that again,” Dan giggles and shyly buries his face in Phil’s neck.

Phil laughs and wraps his arms around Dan, keeping him close. “You’re so cute,” he whispers.

Phil never thought he would end up with someone like Dan, but honestly, he’s glad Dan’s his soulmate.

#phanfiction #phanfic #phan #au #fluff #highschool #pastel!dan #punk!phil #pastelxpunk #soulmates #teenagers #100 #200 #300 #400

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darnedchild · 7 years

Text

Molly Hooper - (Assistant) Reanimator : Part Four

Also on FFdotnet and Ao3

With apologies to H.P. Lovecraft - A modern retelling of Herbert West - Reanimator. Written for the 2017 Sherlolly Halloween fest.

Part Four - Six Shots by Midnight

“Christ, Molly. Why didn’t you tell me?” He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling his curls into the sort of disarray she would have normally found adorable.

“What was I supposed to say?” she scoffed, followed by a quick inhale that was almost a sob. “Oh, by the way, I had a friend in uni who discovered the secret to reanimating dead flesh. Unfortunately, the process had a rather inconvenient side effect of turning the test subjects into flesh-eating ghouls. How, exactly, should I have tried to work that into a casual conversation, Sherlock?” Molly’s was voice growing shriller with each new word; which she seemed to realize because she clamped her lips together to hold in whatever nervous noise was trying to break free.

“I see your point.” He slumped, his head coming to rest on the back of the chair so he could stare up at the tiled ceiling. “That’s all of it, though. Right?” Sherlock lifted his head at her silence. “Right, Molly?”

Her skin had, somehow, gone even paler than before. He began to worry that she was going to be sick all over her desk.

She winced. “No.”

Acting purely on instinct, he slid from the chair and knelt at her feet. He grabbed both of her hands, which were far too cold to the touch for his liking. In his most calming voice he said, “Take a deep breath for me. Now let it go. And another one. In. And out. There we go, that’s my girl.”

“Your what?” Molly blinked, her fearful expression momentarily morphed into bewilderment.

“My . . . We’ll talk about that later.” Now that she had regained some of her colour, Sherlock sat back on his heels. “All right. Tell me the rest.”

இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—

The experiments stopped after the Halsey incident. Or, more likely, Herbert had simply stopped asking for Molly’s assistance. Not that she would have given it.

Not then, at any rate.

Molly’s father’s condition continued to worsen. Eventually the American doctor told them there was nothing more he could do. Her father wanted to spend his last few months in his familiar family home, so the Hoopers returned to Lincolnshire. Molly was relieved to leave Miskatonic University (and Herbert West) behind.

After her father died, she redoubled her efforts to finish her schooling. Her father had told her that his greatest wish had been for her to become Doctor Hooper, and while he wouldn’t be around to see it, she made sure his wish was fulfilled. There were some who called her heartless and cold—her mother included—because she took no more than a week off when he died, just long enough to help make arrangements for and to attend his funeral, but she had a mission. No one understood that this was her way to grieve. Her penance for not being able to save him.

Her first job after becoming a doctor was at a small medical practice in Louth. It took months, but she eventually came out of her shell and her old personality broke free. She made friends with the other clinic staff and Milly at the diner.

One dreary day the next spring, she pushed through the front door of the clinic, her usual friendly greeting for the young receptionist dying on her lips at the sight of Herbert West leaning against the counter.

“And there she is,” Herbert laughed. “I was just about to leave a note for you.”

“How-how did you-Why?“ she stuttered.

He quickly interrupted her with a sharp glance at the receptionist who was watching them, obviously hoping for a juicy bit of gossip about the newest doctor. “Surprise you? I thought it would be more fun if I didn’t call ahead.”

Which would have been a nice trick, considering he shouldn’t have had her number. Or her address. She’d cut off all ties to him and nearly everyone else from the States when she’d left.

“Well, I am definitely surprised.” And it wasn’t particularly pleasant.

“I’ve a meeting this afternoon, but how about dinner tonight? We’ve got a lot to catch up on.” Herbert offered a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Over a too-large portion of Shephard’s Pie that evening, Herbert told her that he’d kept an eye on her academic progress since she’d left. He’d even managed to read her thesis. When he had heard that one of the partners in her practice was getting ready to retire just as he was looking to make a change and leave Arkham, Herbert decided it was clearly a matter of fate.

“I’m sorry? Are you saying you’re replacing Doctor Masters?”

“Not replacing, per se.” He set aside his own plate of barely touched food. “I’ll be taking over his caseload over the next month or two, on a probationary basis, to see if I’ll be a good fit in your quaint little community.”

She got the impression he was mocking either her village or her boss. Or both.

“So, why did you leave Massachusetts?” People didn’t just drop everything and move to Louth on a whim.

“I told you, Molly, I was ready for a change.”

She had resolved to hop on-line as soon as she got back to her tiny cottage and look for any strange news out of Arkham over the last few months, and was relieved to see nothing of note had been reported.

Months later, Herbert had settled into the practice with little trouble. He was extremely competent as a doctor, but had little to no bedside manner. There were the occasional mutterings about his abrasive nature over the reception desk.

He’d purchased a small house for a song, simply because it shared a fence with the cemetery and therefore was rumoured to be haunted. He’d hired workmen to complete much needed repairs around the long empty home and to enlarge the small cellar into a workspace.

It took a while, but Molly eventually found herself warming toward her old friend once more, and falling into old habits. At first it was just reminiscing about their former research (while carefully avoiding any mention of Doctor Halsey’s death and subsequent reawakening). Then it became shared meals and looking over a few notes to try to figure out where they had gone wrong, purely a hypothetical exercise of course. And then the odd evening down in the cellar, messing about with reagents and new formulas.

Before she knew it, Molly was pulled back in. Rather than risk another Halsey incident, they concentrated their work on a much smaller scale, the overly abundant rat population. Not even the entire rat. Miraculously, Herbert’s latest serum was capable of reanimating dismembered limbs, organs, even the severed head of a particularly large rodent specimen.

“Think of it, Molly. We could revolutionize transplant procedures. No more wasting time waiting for a suitable organ donor to get caught in a traffic accident. Part out a donor corpse, inject the serum, then put it all in cold storage until needed.”

His enthusiasm was infectious, but she couldn’t help but wince at his phrasing. “Part out? You’ll need to work on your wording if you hope to ever convince the medical community to accept your work.”

Herbert rolled his eyes. “On the whole, most of them are feeble minded sheep anyway. Sticking to what they were taught without a thought toward innovation or advancements.”

“Be that as it may, you’ll need funding if you want to take this large scale.” It would do him no good to alienate the people who cut the checks.

“Trust me, my dear, there will always be someone searching for the secret to immortality and willing to pay for it.” He sighed as he stared at their latest experiment. “There are so many variables that need to be calculated. Trials with rats won’t be enough for us to go public. If only we had a human specimen to work with.”

Molly shook her head with a grimace. “I am not going to help you dig up another body. I know these people, Herbert. I work with them, they wave to me when I walk down the main street, I talk to them at the diner.”

He sighed and agreed, a tad too quickly for her comfort.

Suddenly the doorbell echoed through the ground floor of the house and through the open door to the cellar. They looked at each other, then up as if they thought they would be able to see through the floorboards.

“Who’s that?” Molly asked.

“Probably one of the yokels, asking if I could come ‘out to the farm and help Bessie birth a calf’, as if I were a common veterinarian. You answer it, tell them I’m busy doing . . . anything.” He waved her off. Molly stuck her tongue out at his back, before trudging up the stairs.

It wasn’t a rancher worried about his cattle. It was one of the men who worked at city hall. He looked nervous, and the stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke assaulted her nose as soon as she pushed the screen door open.

“Hey, Frank.”

He seemed surprised to see her. “Uh, hello, Miss Molly. Is, uh, Dr West here?”

Molly wondered yet again why everyone insisted on calling her by her first name when Herbert was still known as Dr West. “He’s a bit busy at the moment. Is there something I can help you with?”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then sharply nodded his head as if he’d come to a decision of some sort. “You gotta come help, there’s been a-an accident.”

She immediately straightened from where she’d been leaning against the door frame. “What happened?”

“At the pub, there was . . . He fell in the basement. Banged his head up pretty bad. There’s a lot of blood, ma’am. I don’t know if he’ll make it.”

It was a widely known but unspoken secret that certain men from the village liked to gather in the basement of the pub and pummel themselves silly on a semi-regular basis. She didn’t believe the injured man had fallen on his own, not for a minute.

Molly hurried to the cellar door and called down to Herbert, “I need to head out, someone’s hurt. I don’t have my bag with me, where’s yours?”

Herbert stomped up the stairs, visibly irritated at the interruption and the loss of his assistant. “In the hall closet. What do you mean, someone’s hurt?”

She quietly filled him in as she pulled Herbert’s medical bag from the shelf in the closet, including her suspicions that the injury was boxing related. “Frank thinks he might not live.”

“Interesting. I suppose we’ll be the judge of that, won’t we?” Herbert took the bag from Molly’s hands and gestured for her to precede him out the front door. “Tell me, Frank. Who is it who . . . fell?”

Frank led the way toward the cars parked in the short gravel drive. “You wouldn’t know him, just a bloke who’s been hanging around the village, looking for work the last few weeks. You’ve probably never even seen him. Geoff bought him a few drinks, to be friendly. You know.”

So drunk and clumsy was going to be the story the boys at the pub were going to tell, Molly thought as she settled into the front seat next to Herbert. They followed Frank’s car into the village, although Herbert drove around to the alley behind the pub and parked there.

Frank had been right. By the time they arrived, the drifter had stopped breathing; which was probably for the best as she could see brain matter through the fractured skull. “This wasn’t just a fall,” she whispered to Herbert as they examined the massive body of a man who was clearly used to hard manual labour.

He grunted in reply, then stood up and wiped his hands against his shirt, leaving a smear of blood against the white material. “Frank, a word, if you please.”

She watched the two men move to a corner of the room. The handful of other village men stood to the side, whispering to themselves. Probably making sure they had their stories straight, she thought.

Minutes later, Herbert returned to her side and Frank crossed the room to speak with his friends. Some of them gave her and Herbert a look, then the entire lot of them hurried up the stairs.

“What’s going on?”

“They’re going to their respective homes to pretend that none of this happened, and I have agreed that we will deal with our friend here out of the goodness of our hearts and to protect the reputations of several of those fine gentlemen.” Herbert looked around and found a tarp, which he quickly laid down next to the body. “Help me roll him on to this.”

“I’m sorry, we’re what?” Molly questioned, even as she did as he’d asked and tried to help push the heavy body onto the tarp.

“We’re taking him back to the house. If you remember, I was just lamenting the lack of human specimens to test our new serum on. Ask and you shall receive.”

It took considerable effort to haul the dead weight up the stairs into the kitchen and out the back door of the pub. Molly spent the entire drive back to Herbert’s house praying that they weren’t pulled over for a traffic stop, and that no one would ask to look in the trunk.

By the time they dragged the corpse into the house (literally dragged, because Molly was surprisingly strong for her size but the drifter had outweighed her by more than seven stone), they were both tired. Rather than risk injuring themselves trying to get their burden down to the cellar, Herbert brought the absolutely necessary equipment up to the kitchen front hall where they had dumped the tarp wrapped drifter.

“Shouldn’t we tie him up or something?” Molly worried her lower lip as she stared at the large body splayed out on the floor. She still remembered Halsey and the damage he’d done before he’d been caught and contained.

“The rats were docile enough, I don’t think that’s necess-“ Herbert slowly stopped talking as Molly narrowed her eyes and glared. “I’ve got some rope in the shed.”

Unfortunately, the serum didn’t work. They waited nearly thirty minutes, used six vials of the glowing liquid, chest compressions, everything they could think of . . . and nothing.

In all honesty, Molly was relieved that the experiment had been a failure. The work they’d been doing in the cellar could someday save lives. How many people died waiting on a transplant list every year?

But that, the corpse currently bound in rope and anchored to the radiator in Herbert’s sitting room . . . That had the potential to become dangerous in the blink of an eye.

They’d worked hard to modify the serum’s formula. None of the rodent body parts they’d managed to reanimate had shown any signs of aggression, not even the severed head. She’d let their small successes and Herbert’s enthusiasm override her cautious nature. Thank God no one had been forced to pay the price for their hubris this time.

Herbert sat back on his heels and grimaced. “What is it? What variables are we overlooking?”

“Herbert.”

He tapped his fingers against the drifter’s still chest and continued to think out loud. “How long would you say he was dead? Those buffoons had to stand around until one of them had the bright idea to summon a doctor. Five minutes lost there, if I’m being generous.”

“Herbert.”

“Another thirty for Frank to get in his car and drive here, he wouldn’t have sped because he didn’t want the constable to have any reason to pull him over. Twenty-five for us to get to the pub. Then another-“

“Herbert!” Molly nearly shouted. “Stop.”

“But don’t you see? It’s the decomposition. He’s been dead three, possibly four hours before we began.” He hopped up and gesticulated wildly. “The rats were all fresh, still warm when we dismembered them. No chance for decomp to set in before we injected the serum.”

Molly used an end table to slowly pull herself up. Her muscles ached from hauling so much dead weight around. “We can’t keep doing this.”

He frowned, looking at her as if he didn’t even recognize her, and then his expression cleared and he nodded. “You’re right. We’ve been coming at this from the wrong direction.”

That hadn’t been what she’d meant at all, but she was tired and they still had to figure out what to do with the dead man. “Do I even want to know what you’re talking about?”

“We have to stop the deterioration of the brain matter. I’m almost positive that is what has been causing the regression to primitive instincts.”

“And violent,” Molly felt the need to remind him.

He waved her off. “The important thing is that the serum works.“

“We don’t really know that,” Molly quickly interjected.

Herbert ignored her. “Clearly, the next step is to find a way to slow down, or even stop, decomposition.”

That seemed like a bit of a leap, but if it meant no more cannibalistic half-zombies then Molly was all for it. “In the meantime, what do we do with him?” She nodded toward the body.

After a moment’s thought, Herbert gestured toward the tarp they’d abandoned when they first tied the drifter’s corpse up. “I’ll wrap him up, you get the shovel out of the shed.”

இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—

“Considering what you told me earlier, that could have gone much worse,” Sherlock offered.

“Oh, no. We’re not done.” Molly rubbed at her forehead. “Not even close.”

“Damn.” Sherlock stood up from the floor and took her hand. “Let’s move to the sofa than. I’m tired of kneeling.”

Once they were settled on the small loveseat, he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close enough that she could tuck her head under his chin. He thought it might be easier for her to talk if she didn’t have to look him in the eye.

“Herbert dug a shallow grave behind one of the mausoleums. Half the village still treated the cemetery as if it were haunted so there wasn’t much chance that anyone would be wandering around the place and stumble across it.” She took a deep breath and reached for his free hand, tucking her fingers between his. “For two days everything was fine. And then the Meynard boy went missing.”

“Fuck,” Sherlock whispered under his breath. He felt her tense, and held her hand even tighter to show her that he wasn’t going to run off. “Did . . . Did they find him?”

“Yeah.” Molly’s voice broke. She had to take a minute to compose herself. “In the meantime, his mother couldn’t handle the stress and worry. Sherry had always been high strung and delicate. Bad heart. She collapsed in a fit of hysteria, and Herbert happened to be the doctor on call that day. He went out to their house, thinking that he’d be able to sedate her a bit, calm her down. Maybe convince Ralph to drive her into the city so she could be admitted to hospital. She had a heart attack while arguing with them both that she wasn’t leaving until they found her little boy. Herbert couldn’t save her.”

She tilted her head up. He could feel the brush of her eyelashes against his jaw as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Ralph tried to beat the crap out of him, said Herbert didn’t try hard enough. Pretty sure the only thing that saved Herbert was the constable coming by to check in with a progress report on the search.”

She sniffled, and Sherlock knew that whatever was coming was going to be bad. Very bad.

“Gossip being what it is in a small community, I headed out to Herbert’s that evening. I wanted to make sure he was okay. He answered the door with a revolver in his hand. I have no idea how he managed to get his hands on one, or how long he’d had it. He said he had thought I was Ralph, come to finish the job. I’d barely been there twenty minutes when someone started pounding on the kitchen door, hard enough to make it shake.”

Even though he knew the answer already, he still asked, “Ralph?”

Molly made a noise that was a cross between a choke and a sob. “I wish. Herbert ripped open the door, revolver pointed at his visitor. It was the drifter, hunched over low enough that his knuckles almost scraped against the broken concrete step outside the door. I remember thinking he looked like a gorilla. And then I realized that was because he was covered in dirt and grave moss and-and viscera. He had, hanging out of his mouth he had-“

Sherlock rubbed his cheek against the top of her head. “Shh, it’s okay. You don’t have to say it.”

He felt her nod. “Thank you. Herbert emptied his revolver into it. All six bullets. One right in the forehead.”

“How did he explain any of it? Surely the others had to have said something. The men in the pub?”

“When Frank asked, Herbert told him there were cases of people being clinically dead and then waking up on the autopsy table. The drifter must not have been truly dead when he buried him. And when he woke up and dug himself out, the extensive brain damage from the ‘fall’ must have made him go berserk. Frank backed off once Herbert mentioned the incident in the pub.”

Molly sighed and sniffled again. “Ralph laid his wife and son to rest on the same day. There wasn’t really a need for the second casket, but they buried one anyway.”

#sherlolly halloween at 221b

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kris10inger · 7 years

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AWWM | Adult Contemporary Romance

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OPEN WOUNDS: ABEL & HOPE

Missing Teal and Trent from Inevitable: Love & War? Check out Rogue in Love, the first of many standalones featuring Trent Reed's new employees!

A Love Against the Odds Novel

If you could see your life from inception to your death, would you change things or would you let your death play out as fate intended?

Abel is in search of only two things. A stable job and a safe place to lay his head at night after a mistake that cost him eighteen months of his life. As if fate had plans made only for him, Abel is offered a complicated job, and a chance to redeem himself to his old boss, from an old friend. And then he meets her… And Abel adds another item to his list—Hope.

At only twenty-six, Hope has only ever slept with one man, and at her boss’s unsolicited advice, Hope plans to forget the abuse and degradation she suffered at her husband's hand by seducing and bedding the next man she meets. Only, after Hope finds a promise of death at her doorstep, her plans are derailed and only chance at staying alive rests on the dedication of her new bodyguard and her own sheer will to live the life she deserves.

*Lightly Edited Preview*

Hope curiously eyed the gaudy, purple and pink plastic engagement ring on Thea’s finger, as she held her hand up in the air. Her friend gazed lovingly at it while wiggling her fingers. Bright, adoring eyes met Hope’s as she gushed over the ring and continued the story of how Lex had proposed.

“I’d given it to him as a gift, never once realizing he’d use it to ask me to marry him all these years later.” Thea sighed dramatically, as if she could barely continue without another squeal bubbling out. “He bent down on one knee, looked me in the eyes, and promised me forever.”

Hope had zoned out halfway through the story. Not that Lex’s proposal hadn't been adorable and romantic, but she often found herself drowning in memories of the past whenever anyone brought up marriage. The idea was to leave the past in New York, but Hope found that hard to do with all the wedding talk and secrets she held inside. She smiled, but seeing the solemn look Thea gave her, she was sure it hadn't reached her eyes.

“Oh, shit,” her best friend and boss said. “I keep forgetting that you—”

“Stop right there.” Hope waved a dismissive hand at her words. “Don’t think for a second I am comparing this to my own life. You get to enjoy this. Lex is amazing, and nothing like Mark.” She crossed her arms over her chest in frustration. Hope had never meant to make her feel like she couldn’t talk openly, because Thea was the only person in her life who she could converse with candidly.

Thea’s soft voice met her ears. “I know, but it’s like talking about getting pregnant around someone who can’t carry a child. You want to be excited, but you also don’t want to hurt their feelings.”

“I know, and that puts a damper on your good news.” Hope shook off the sadness threatening to overwhelm her. “No more walking on egg shells around me.” Thea’s engagement was amazing news, and Hope was acting like a big-ass wet rag. She pushed back the agonizing memories and smiled again; this time, conveying her happiness for a friend who’d saved her ass. “Can we both agree to put my shitty past where it belongs? Way the hell behind us. Now, let me see this thing.”

Thea moved closer, placing the hideous ring out for her inspection. Seeing Hope’s reaction, her nose wrinkled and her forehead dipped. “I know, right?” Hope looked up to her. “Ugly as sin, isn’t it?”

Both women laughed at the truth because the ring was seriously fugly.

Thea took her hand back. “Maybe you should get out there and try the dating game again?”

Hope groaned inwardly. She didn’t want to hear the ‘just move on’ speech again. Because she had tried—with no success. After looking high and low, no matter who she ended up dating, she always found them to be . . . lacking. Unsure of whether it was her past, or her inability to trust, she found it painfully hard to even consider dating anymore.

“Hell, I say, the next man who walks through that door,” Thea turned to Hope with a calculating smile, “you ask on a date!”

Hope’s eyes widened at the crazy idea. The possibility of her hitting up the next man to walk through the clinic’s front door was laughable. “No. I couldn’t possibly. You’re crazy. I don’t think—”

“That’s right. Don’t think,” Thea spurred. “Just do.”

Hope huffed, then saw something out of the corner of her eye. Turning to look at the door, she jolted in surprise. “Oh, for cripes’ sake.” Ms. Collis stood there, angrily banging on the door, leaving fist-sized smudge marks on the glass—a line of people standing impatiently behind her. Good thing Hope had painstakingly cleaned the doors the night before. “I think today is going to be one of those days. Is it a full moon?”

Thea followed her gaze. “Oh, God help us.” Running to the door, she turned the locks and guided the woman behind Ms. Collis inside. As she passed the front desk, she elevated the woman’s bloody arm and whispered to Hope, “The next hot guy that isn’t dying . . . ask him out.”

Hope’s face flushed with embarrassment.

Behind her, a crowd of people entered, some looking as if they were drowning in snot, while others bled, or just appeared angry and annoyed. Regardless of the clientele, Hope loved her job. She’d always enjoyed the feeling of a good day’s work. In fact, the past six months at the clinic had been a way for Hope to temporarily ignore the past and focus on a possible future.

And in the beginning, Thea had been able to keep her employment hush-hush, paving the way for Hope to work without fear of one day looking up to find Mark, waiting for her. But now that employment papers were signed and turned in, Hope’s worrying increased with each passing day. She shuddered. The idea of Mark following her to Blackwater had become a waking nightmare and a monster under her bed to fear.

Pushing those feelings aside, she looked up and smiled at Ms. Collis, handing her a clipboard with documents attached. Seconds later, a biker in leather pants—crazy in this heat—a ripped and bloody shirt the size of a mountain pushed through the doors of the clinic, blood gushing from his nose. He favored his right side, and pressed his free hand to a wound seeping blood through the tattered shirt. Hope’s eyes travelled up and up the huge behemoth until her eyes met and connected with his unconcerned gaze.

Shaking herself from the shock of such a huge man, Hope pointed to the side door where the motorcycle club, or the MC, had claimed the waiting room as their own. Locals who weren’t affiliated with the gang, sat in the open waiting room to the right, while the MC took residence in the small room to the left. He nodded his head and made his way to the door.

“Ma’am, if you could take a seat and fill this out, I’ll be right back,” Hope instructed. Ms. Collis was in to have her cast taken off. It wasn’t the least bit serious, so she would have to wait her turn as Hope triaged the more seriously injured. Hope made her way over to the bleeding man, who still hadn't opened the door to the waiting room.

“Sir?” She came up behind him and he swiveled around to meet her gaze. Unfortunately, since Thea’s grandfather had ties with the MC before he passed, most of the gang came to her clinic when in need of medical help that didn’t require the coroner. At first, Hope had doubts, but when she got the text from Mark threatening her life if she didn’t return to his side in New York, Hope decided it wasn’t so bad if these huge, gun-toting men were there often.

The man’s dark eyes flickered to the waiting room. “Didn’t want to get blood on the door.” His deep voice and heavy, Irish brogue caught her off guard. This man was new, or at least, had never been in the clinic while Hope was there. Since she worked five days a week, and twelve hours a day, she assumed he’d just been one of the lucky few in the MC to not have gotten stabbed recently.

Hope glanced to his bloody hands and nodded. “Okay. Let me get that for you.” She went to open the door, when Lucy, the clinic’s receptionist, burst through the front doors, apologizing for being late as she headed to the counter. Now that she was at work, Hope could take him straight back and get him stitched up. “Actually, why don’t we have you come on back with me. We’ll see how serious these wounds are.”

He followed her to one of the rooms in the back. Hope hadn't bothered getting him to fill out any forms. The MC members never bothered with the patient information form, and always paid in cash. Hell, the clinic would probably go belly up without the money the men provided.

Sliding a pair of purple gloves on her hands, Hope pointed to the paper-lined bed. “Have a seat.” Making her way to the cabinet, she found a pair of sterilized scissors. Routinely, Hope would ask the patient what happened, but when it came to these men, the fewer questions you asked, the better.

“You have any allergies?”

“No, ma’am.”

Hope was long past the initial shock of the MC members having manners. At first, she hadn't expected them to be polite, or for them to pay, but they did, and they weren’t raucous in the least. It was extraordinarily ironic that men who looked like beasts could be so composed and gentle, yet Mark, who normally wore a three-piece suit, could transform into the monster of her wildest nightmares.

After a quick assessment, she knew his side needed to be treated first. Asking him to lift his arm, she cut open his shirt and inspected the knife wound. Unfortunately, she’d dealt with stab wounds often, in her professional and personal life. His wound was shallow and not life threatening. A few stitches and he’d be fine. Then she could treat his nose.

“I don’t need any stitches, doc.”

Rolling her eyes for the second time today, she said, “Yes, you do and you are getting them.” Ignoring the growl emanating from his chest, she continued to clean the wound. At 5’5 and one-hundred-twenty pounds, Hope didn’t stand a chance against the mountain man, but she knew the first and most important thing to remember when dealing with the MC members. Never show weakness. Once you did that, your ass was grass. The men, while not complete assholes, would play on your fear. Find one sexy? Well, you’d most likely end up on your back.

Hope didn’t have time for that shit. And while Mark had put the fear of God in her, Hope was resolute that not all men were created equal. On top of that, she and Thea, were off-limits to the members, per some scary man named Gator.

“Piss and vinegar." His laughter pulled her from her thoughts. “Well, doc . . .”

“Not a doctor, just a nurse.” She winced at her words. She wasn’t just a nurse, and she regretted saying it like that. Doctors and nurses worked hand in hand, and Hope thought neither would be as effective without the other.

“Well, nurse . . .” He ducked his head down blonde hair falling over his eyes, he pushed the strands away as he tried to read her name badge.

“Hope,” she supplied, just as she stuck the first injection of lidocaine into his skin.

“I’d rather you fuss with my nose,” he grunted. “My face is my money maker.”

Hope couldn’t help but laugh. This man, while not ugly, would not be considered a model under any circumstances. His face held a crooked nose, dark eyes, and wide-set lips. Maybe he could model tactic wear for the military?

She glanced up as coal-colored eyes shined with mirth. “Oh really? And here I thought it was your great fashion sense.” Hope plucked at the bloodied Foreigner shirt.

Glancing down, the huge man smiled. “Yeah, that too.”

Shaking her head, she set up her equipment and got to work. The man, who she later found out was called Spooky, asked her out a few times before realizing it wasn’t going to happen. Mark had been persistent as well. He’d asked her out a total of twenty-two times, before she’d broken down and finally said yes. Back then, she hadn't known it was a sign of systemic hostility; she’d been naïve enough to consider it charming that a man like Mark would be do persistent in wanting to get to know her.

Hope finished up with Spooky’s stitches and nose and sent him on his way. After cleaning up the room, she headed back out to see Lucy wrestling a line out the door. Being the only low-income clinic in Blackwater had the entire staff working twelve-hour days. Hope jumped into the madness until the line dwindled, and the sun was no longer in the sky.

Heading home that night, she huffed up the flight of stairs leading to her home, and froze when she made it to the top of the landing. There, in front of her door, sat a blue and white package. Her heart jumped in her throat, heaving her into the past.

After every beating, he’d sent her the very same Tiffany-colored box. On one particularly horrific evening, Mark had broken her ring finger, then rewarded her with a three-carat diamond, and a card stating, When that nasty mistake heals, you can wear this.

Hope opened her eyes, confused as to when she’d shut them. With trembling fingers, she opened the box. Inside was a diamond-studded choker. Beautiful, white diamonds sparkled in a straight line, surrounded by blood-red rubies, in a platinum setting. Covering her mouth, Hope held in a strangled sob. She didn’t want to leave Blackwater, but once again he’d found her.

Mark’s face flashed in her mind and Hope had the sudden urge to run. Instead, she reached into her purse and pulled out the Glock Thea had made her buy. Scanning the area, she didn’t find anything out of place. How had he tracked her down? She’d been so careful.

It has to be my new employment status. Thea had been paying her under the table, but the clinic received government funds, and in the long run, it could have hurt Thea’s clinic. So, Hope had made things right and her official paperwork was turned in.

Hope turned back to go inside and noticed a note tucked inside her door. She pulled it out and flipped the card open.

I’ll give you to the count of three to come back home to me.

ONE.

#preorder #teaser #steamy romance #romance #love against the odds #open wounds

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