#and I know it's definately gonna help me move along and get better mentally so i cant wait!!

[shvdowsdrowned]

Hiiii sorry I disappeared on yall (if anyone cares lmao), I went through some rough shit and I just couldn't stand being on this app after that BUT I'm definately feeling a lot better than I did in the beginning, still not 100% there but I think I should be well enough to come back <3

Plus, I really miss posting about my girlfriend revenant apexlegends so I'm gonna try to get back into the swing of things 💕

[stressedoutcanary]

Do You Ever Feel Like A Misfit (Everything Inside You Is Dark & Twisted)

Dick Grayson x Reader

Word Count: 3.5K (I don't know how tf that happened)

Warnings: Explicit language, Blood and Violence, lots of angst, Hurt/Comfort ✌

A/N: Guess who's back! Just for some context the reader is a magic user and her style is similar to that of Zatanna <3

•°•°•°•°

She’d have reasoned with herself that stealing from one of the most secure and heavily guarded safe-houses of a deranged sociopath was probably not the brightest idea she’s had all day. It never even made it on her to-do-list for the weekend, but here she was, running across rooftops, holding on to the stolen totem like her life depended on it, it probably did. The three assassins sent after her were no Lady Shiva or Talia Al Ghul but they weren’t exactly amateurs either. The deep cuts and two broken ribs she got from their earlier encounter were proof of that.

She glanced back and even though there was no sign of her would-be-killers she knew better than to assume they’d just let her be. They were sticking to the shadows, exploiting her blind spots. The only thing she was sure of was that they were still hot on her trail and would happily plunge a dagger into her back given the opportunity.

She was right. As of this moment she hated being right.

She caught the glint of the two sharp objects slicing through the air, hurtling towards her at full speed. A slight shift of her upper body was all she could manage as one of the daggers got embedded right into her scapula while the other one, fortunately so, whirled past her, slightly grazing her left hip. The impact of the blade on her shoulder made her lose what little balance she had left. Despite her best efforts, when the wounded shoulder made contact with the hard concrete, a loud, ear-piercing cry ripped out from her throat before she could push it back down.

Cursing under her breath she knew, she knew all she had were those few seconds of numbness and disorientation to get a grip and figure out her exit strategy. However, all her hopes started to sink as she saw one of the assassins come closer, appearing more of a blur than a person. Then again that was probably because of the nice, little concussion she got from her fall. The assassin walked over to her, unsheathed their sword and placed it right on her neck, blocking any and every way out.

“You were warned. The Demon’s Head does not tolerate treachery. We are here under his orders to bring back the totem along with the witch’s head; your head”

If she could, she would’ve rolled her eyes at the classic villainous dialogues thrown at her.

“Witch? Who’re you calling a witch Snow White? I’m clearly a sorceress, don’t they teach you the difference between the two in assassin school or something? Hell, I’d even let you call me an enchantress, though that name’s already been taken but you get my poin-” 

The remaining words died in her throat as the sword on her neck shifted slightly. She knew she had extremely poor self preservation skills considering she’s clearly been instigating the very person sent to kill her, but even she wasn’t dumb enough to keep talking when the tiniest movement on either part could result in her having a severed jugular or carotid. 

‘This is a pretty shitty way to die’ 

She thought back to how she used the last of her mystic energy to hide the totem away before her fall and how stupid that decision really was because now she could actually feel the agonizing pain coming from her shoulder. It started to spread throughout her back like wildfire, eyelids grew heavy against her wishes. Suddenly she felt really tired and the idea to close her eyes just felt so goddamn appealing. 

‘No (Y/N) that’s the blood loss talking. Blood loss doesn’t get to make decisions’, she mentally scolded herself, still not breaking her eye contact with the person standing above her.

“Give us what you stole and we shall grant you the mercy of a quick death.”

That made her raise an eyebrow, “Ah, lemme think...the correct response here would be…”, she hummed, making a show of how hard she was thinking about the offer she was granted, “How about a fuck you? How would that do for you?”, she gave them a vicious grin, it was all teeth.  They probably weren’t impressed by her response and it showed.

She knew there was no way out but she had promised herself once that if she were to die, that if she ever goes out, she’d be anything but a whimpering and sobbing mess. She was scared shitless, more so than she’d ever been while fending off the league, she won’t deny that but she would rather die than let them know that.  ‘Well at least I got that ‘rather die’ part down to a T.’ she thought, eyeing the sharpness of the blade which was now raised up in the air

She felt bad for just giving up the way she did. Her whole life she was told to fight her way through the impossible, to attain the strength rivaling that of Zatanna Zatara, John Constantine and Doctor Fate himself. To be better than them, and there she was lying on the ground limp as a sword came down on her throat; all for a silly necklace. She would’ve huffed out a laugh if only her ribs weren’t broken, if only her body wasn’t screaming in pain, if only she had a way out. She didn’t. She was too tired, too drained, too numb to do anything else. Closing her eyes she stopped fighting, she let her growing unconsciousness claim her.

‘This is what you deserve anyway’, her barely there conscience remarked.

‘Fuck you too.’ she replied.

Everything went pitch black. The darkness encompassing her was peaceful, unlike the pain she had felt before. It was nice for a change. It sounded pathetic  but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

•°•°

 When she came to, the first thing she observed was the feeling of something soft against her back, next was a dull rhythmic sound which she realized was her own heartbeat. Though opening her eyes was a tiring task. It shouldn’t have been, but it was. She used all the energy she had into it and her eyelids fluttered open. She stared at the white ceiling and stayed like that for a few seconds; a few minutes? She couldn’t tell, but the pain was back now, not too much but enough to tell her it was there, to tell she was still alive.

She saw something shift in her peripheral vision and her body instinctively went stiff. Her mind which was blank before now ran in all directions.

‘Could be Ra’s Al Ghul… Could be worse’, she tried not to think about the worst case scenario, but she knew she had pissed off a lot of beings, beings far more powerful and far crueler than Ra’s himself. An involuntary shudder passed through her at the thought. That must’ve caught her captor’s attention as she felt the person move closer to her. Begrudgingly, she tore her gaze from the spot on the ceiling which she had been staring at this whole time and tilted her head. The man in black and blue who appeared, was probably the last person she had expected to see.

“Nightwing…”

Her voice was barely above a whisper and the hoarseness with which it came out it took her by surprise, but her body visibly relaxed at the sight of the familiar figure, at the sight of someone who would never hurt her.  

She watched him pull out a chair from the desk nearby. He sat next to the bed she was lying on and gave her a soft smile, a smile that spelled one word ‘relieve’. She remembered how when she first met him two years ago, she found that particular smile extremely annoying, she had no reason to, but she did. What she couldn’t remember was when she had grown so fond of it.

“How do you feel?”

“Like shit.”

He snorted a laugh which made her pout. She was planning to point out how he was being mean; laughing at her when her response truly defined the way she was feeling, but any words she thought of were cut off by the change in his expression. His smile faltered, lips were now pressed in a thin line, face contorted in a way which showed his genuine concern.

“This is the second time, this week.”

That you almost died, he didn’t say. That I had to save you and bring you back from the clutches of death, he didn’t say.

“I know.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“I know.”

The silence that settled, stretched far too long for comfort, but she wasn’t going to be the one to break it. She wanted to, but there was nothing she could say, that would make it better. Nightwing ran his fingers through the locks of hair, burying his face in his hands.

For the first time since she woke up, she took in his appearance, he looked disheveled,  his suit was torn in different places along visible faint cuts, most likely he got them when he rescued her. She felt a pang of guilt rising in her chest. He risked his life for her, she knew he had done it before, she didn’t get it then and she didn’t get it now. Why would someone do that? Why would he? She was pulled back from her spiraling thoughts when he spoke again, exhaustion evident in his voice.

“Why are you so reckless?”

“Excuse me?”

She looked at him like he had grown another head. She wasn’t ready for this conversation but by the looks of it they were gonna have it anyway.

“What if I hadn’t been there today? Or any of the other days you almost died. What then?”

“My best guess? I would’ve been dead.”

“And that fact doesn’t bother you at all?!”

She flinched at little when his voice rose, but she stood her ground, at least figuratively since she was still in bed.

“I don’t know, should it?” She didn’t try and tone down the venom dripping from her words. Her words cut deeper than the wounds he got from the assassins; she saw it clear as day on his face. She let out a deep sigh but continued. She had to get it out and he had to hear it, that’s the reason she gave herself for the confession that followed.

“I don’t need your help, Dick. I don’t know what gave you the impression that I did but I’ve never needed it.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘Why was it getting harder to speak?’ “I don’t need you to save me every time. I don’t need you to risk your life for me and I definitely don’t…” She moved to sit up straight, her back resting on the headboard. She shifted her gaze on her open palms resting in her lap; palms covered in blood, in her blood, not very long ago.

“I don’t need you to care...”

The last part was a whisper and Dick was silent, so silent that for a brief moment she wondered if the man she’d come to care about even heard her, admitting something that was so painful for her to say out loud.

Dick moved to sit beside her, his shoulder bumping hers. He didn’t know where all this was coming from but he knew better to leave it unattended.

“(Y/N) I help you because I care about you. I always will, you know that.”

“Why? You have nothing to gain from it”, blinking back the unshed tears in her eyes, she looked at him with a hurt expression as if she couldn’t bring herself to understand.

“Why… as in why do I care?”, Dick tilted his head to look her in the eyes, trying to understand what she meant all the while making sure not to let his own surprise at her words show. She nodded not trusting her voice to not betray her anymore than it already had.

“I don’t care about you because I feel like you need it nor because I would gain something from it”, Dick knew he shouldn’t have to explain it to her. He briefly wondered what she had gone through to make her think that she needed to be useful to be cared for or that she had to need it to be cared for. He felt something pull at his heart at the thought; It was sorrow.

“I care about you because… well I do and there’s nothing you could or couldn’t do to change that. And it is because I care about you that I ask you to be better at taking care of yourself. Now I know for a fact that whatever you stole from The League’s safehouse definitely did not belong there, but I also know that whatever it was, it wasn’t worth your life (Y/N) It never will be.”

Dick grasped one of her hands, interlacing his gloved fingers with hers; she hadn’t even realized she was shaking until he did so. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to take a deep breath despite her protesting ribs. Opening the palm of her free hand she muttered an incantation with practiced ease

“Eveirter tahw saw neddih “, her hand glowed, the golden aura taking the shape of a object. When the light subsided, Dick saw the object in her palm as she rubbed her thumb across it, quietly leaning her head on his shoulder.

“It was this totem. It belongs to Madame Xanadu. Don’t know what Ra’s wanted it for though”, she shrugged as best as she could with an injured shoulder then continued, voice firmer than it had been the whole evening,“ She asked me to retrieve it in exchange for information on a girl I was looking for. The girl was somehow sucked into some other dimension, a mystic one and her mother was so desperate when she approached me that I just couldn’t say no. So when I say the Totem was important, then I want you to know that it really is.”

Dick shook his head at that. “Still not worth your life.”

“Dick…”, she sighed. It was all she could do at the moment because she was really getting tired from all the arguing.

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

“You mean the time I met the infamous vigilante Nightwing in a dumpster of all places.”

“In my defense I was badly injured”, she hummed in agreement.

“You smelled bad”

“You try smelling like flowers after falling from a building and into an open dumpster.”

His playful grumbling pulled a short laugh out of her. She was more than a little confused at the sudden trip into the past but happily accepted it as a change of topic. She should’ve know better than to think he’d have let the matter go.

“Anyway my point is when you saw me that day, you first instinct was to help me. You pulled me out and used your magic to heal my wounds. You didn’t have to. You could’ve dropped me at a hospital. You could’ve even walked away and pretended that you never saw me, but you didn’t. Why is that?”

“Because I thought you were handsome?”, she said trying to lighten this too-heavy-for-comfort conversation he was trying to have.

“Nice try. I know you. You saved me because you cared. You helped me and the Titans save the city more than once because you cared. It is who you are. I’ve seen you care about and worry over complete strangers without conditions. So why do you think that there has to be some kind of a barter system when it comes to you? Why think that I would want to gain something if I cared about you?”

“Because everyone else did.”

The words shot out from her mouth quicker than she realized. She had voiced her greatest insecurity to the one person who never had anything to add to it and Dick’s heart clenched at the implications of her words, ‘She has never been loved unconditionally before’ his brain provided.

The tears she blinked back earlier came back with full force. She felt two strong arms that wrapped around her, all the while being mindful of her injuries. Dick pulled her into a hug and that was it. She couldn’t control the sobs that tore through her throat, the pain in her body flared due her erratic movements. She knew once the tears started flowing they wouldn’t stop at least not for a while, but now that her façade had been broken she couldn’t bring herself to give it another thought.

He waited for her to let it out, let out all the pent up emotions she had. Now that he thought about it he had never seen her cry. He never questioned it, maybe he should’ve.

“I don’t know who’s responsible for hurting you (Y/N), God, how much I wish I did”, his arms slightly tighten around her at that. “I am so sorry that you have felt like you have to have your walls up all the time, even around me and I should’ve seen that, I should’ve realized that before but I didn’t and I am so sorry for that. I can’t undo the damage you’ve endured and I will not pretend that I can. What I can do is promise you that I’d never let you down like that, never.”

The words he spoke were clear. He didn’t try to tell her to put her walls down, to trust him when she had no reason to. He also didn’t need to justify himself or make such over the top promises but it felt nice to hear it. She had already stopped crying the moment he started speaking again but she still had her forehead pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, it was calming in a way she couldn’t describe. She pulled her head back to look at him, and the honesty in his voice earlier matched the one in his eyes.

“Okay”

Hearing her response, he gave her his signature grin. It sent unexpected warmth through her, he always had that effect on her. She was sure she was just blushing at this point and was suddenly thankful for the dim lighting in the room. 

She ended up composing herself rather quickly, jabbing a finger at his armored chest with her usual smirk plastered on her face.

“Now that you’ve made that promise, know this, Dick Grayson, if you let me down I will drop a mountain on you.”

“You mean that figuratively?”

“No I mean that geologically”, he waited for her to say she was kidding. She didn’t.

“Alright, alright”, He held his hands out in mock surrender. After considering the look in her eyes, Dick refrained from questioning the feasibility of that action nor did he want to question her magical abilities or intent. Last he remembered, Wally did that and that conversation ended with him being teleported to Sahara and Dick would very much like to avoid the same fate as his best friend.

Deciding that was more than enough exhaustion for one night, he got up from the bed and kissed her goodnight, informing her that he’d be sleeping on the couch so that he wouldn’t accidently hit her injuries in his sleep. She agreed and watched him slip out of the room before falling into the blissful sleep she had been putting off since forever.

•°•°

She knew Dick Grayson was full of surprises but the next morning when he put forward the offer of become a full time Titan, in front of her, she wondered if she fell from the bed in her sleep and ended up  getting another concussion because he was so not making any sense.

“So let me get this straight, you want me to come live with you and your superhero friends, in the Titans freaking Tower?!”

“I was hoping for a little less yelling after an emotional evening but yes that is exactly what I’m asking.”

“Dick that’s just ridiculous!”

“Look, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

He looked like a kicked puppy which made her feel kinda guilty for all the yelling.

“It’s not that…It’s just there is still a lot about me I haven’t told them. There is still a lot I haven’t told you. I don’t see a reason why you all would want to trust a possible threat, let alone live with it”, she gestured to herself.

Dick felt like there was a deeper meaning behind her words, as if she was voicing her own fear rather than theirs but he trusted her enough to tell him about it when she was ready, on her own terms. He could wait till then but for now he crossed the short distance between them, going around the breakfast table till he stood in front of her. He grasped both of her hands in his and ran his thumb soothingly across her knuckles. He bent down to place a soft kiss on her forehead, and then moved to meet her gaze.

“(Y/N), I know you and I trust you and…It sounds silly considering I was raised by the worlds greatest detective but I believe that you don’t have to know every little detail about someone as long as you already know what’s in their heart.” Bruce probably would’ve disagreed but he wasn’t Bruce.

“And you know what’s in mine?”

“And I know what’s in yours.” His statement was firm and left no room for argument, not when it came to this.

“If you’re sure about this, then I guess...”

“Is that a yes I’m hearing?”, There was that smile again, seriously what was up with him and his smile that made her giddy inside.

In between thoughts she realized he was still waiting for a response so she nodded. Any underlying doubts she had about her answer vanished when she took in how happy it made him. As cheesy as it sounded seeing him happy made her happy. A part of her said it wouldn’t last long, but seeing her boyfriend hop onto the couch full of joy as he called his friends about the latest development in their lives, she wanted to believe otherwise.    

°•°•°•°•

[kaijurakunsobs]

If requests are open could you do a Heisenberg fic with a teen or young adult reader(no older than 20 please) who stumbles into the village trying to get away from their parents and after they get attacked by Lycans Heisenberg patches them up and takes them in trying to hide them from his sister and mother miranda. Could you please do it with an AFAB reader who doesn’t identify as female? I am currently dealing with borderline verbal abuse from my conservative father who doesnt like that though I am AFAB I don’t identify as female.

first, baby, I'm so sorry that this is happening to you. I know how bad and mentally taxing that kind of living situation can get, I was in a similar situation and somehow managed to pull through.

you are not alone, you are loved and I hope everything gets better, never forget that it's you who defines yourself, your self worth should NEVER be defined by others

All you can think is...how cold everything is around you, how the freezing air burns your skin and lungs, but, you have endured something worst, physical pain can be healed with time, emotional and psychological pain is what hurts the most, what feels eternal and haunting, it coils around you, it grows and never let's go, like being branded, it leaves marks that never go away.

Running aimlessly through the snow feels like nothing.

What made you get out of the car?

Was it anger?

Desperation?

Does that even matter anymore?

You can't hear their voices anymore, so that's a win.

Farther away you see smoke and fain lights, distant sounds beckoning you closer to that place, and you let yourself smile widely when the silhouette of someone standing so close to you, you could get help, start somewhere new, be happy!

But it's so short-lived, that you question if there's divine retribution, karma, or just the universe laughing in your face.

Your "savior" is covered in blood, a man with a perpetual expression of agony lays in the snow, dead. The monster turns to you and finally the cold freezes you where you stand, it's not alone, and all the other creatures are looking at you, dark soulless eyes fixated on their new prey.

You have felt like that before under his gaze like if you were vermin, it made you furious how you were treated and consider as something lesser than a person. These things look at you the same like you are just a speck of dust in their path, and maybe you are, if the mangled body is any indication that taking a life will be nothing for them.

You see it from the corner of your eye, one of them lunges for you, and then? everything is a blur.

You remember kicking and punching wildly, adrenaline making you forget about the pain of the bites and scratches, there are memories of you running and using something to smash the head of one of the monsters, a rock, perhaps? But in the end, cold, blood loss, and exhaustion are enough to bring you to your knees. One of them grabs a fistful of hair and roars in your face and you know, that, this is it, you fought and did your best, but this is the end of your travesty...so much for your new life of freedom.

"Get the fuck away...I SAID FUCK OFF!" his voice is so loud that it makes you whimper and recoil "LET GO, CAN'T YOU HEAR ME? LET GO, DAMN IT!" the smell of blood and a warm liquid hits you hard, but at least you are free, letting your body hit the snow

"What do we have here?...this one is alive, but ya ain't from around here, do you?" he's smoking and something small and silly wants you to tell him that smoking is bad, which makes you smile so softly "...Interesting"

Heisenberg rarely gets intrigued by anything, he hasn't found anything to spark his curiosity in so long, so of course, he had to come and see what was causing such a commotion. What he thought to be a villager, fist fighting the lycans so valiantly, turned out to be a teenager, he saw you from afar,  furiously kicking lycan after lycan, you didn't even notice the growing red spots in your clothes and the black eye, it was survival and feral like behavior. Truly interesting.

Now, what made him pick you up with care? years from today he will say it was just "Scientific interest kiddo! nothing more", but, it's the pain in your face that makes him act so soft, it's not the agony brought by your wounds, this goes deeper, it's different and he knows it very well.

Under normal circumstances, he would have taken you to Moreau, but he knows the loud mouth will give you to that bitch Miranda and that will be it for you. Dimitrescu is OUT of the equation, so does Beneviento, hell knows what her psychotic ass would do to you. So he brings you back to his home and takes time to clean your wounds, true, his stitching abilities are amazing...on corpses, and a lack of anesthesia and your occasional movements makes it hard for him to stitch you properly, but by the end of everything, you are bandaged and clean, isn't that the important part?

He’s done his part, the rest is on you. If you had the strength to fight and even kill a lycan, you might live to see another day

How long were you out?

You are warm and so fucking sore, cracking your eyes open is a big task and even harder to sit up in the bed you are laying on. The room is black and smells like tobacco, oil, and something you can’t place but it’s nice.

Barefoot and curious you start to get up, wincing deep and loud when pain floods your body, but you get up non-less, you feel the cold air hit your legs, and immediately pull down the shirt to cover yourself. Then it fully clicks, the jagged memories of what happened slaps you in the face and make you lose your footing, falling back on the bed you pry the shirt off from your body, you see bandages and patches placed on smaller wounds, your head is killing you and your right eye hurts like crazy.

With small breathes you pull the shirt back on and force your body to get up and investigate the room. There are piles of clothes and pieces of paper everywhere, picking one of the pants you sigh, these are yours, but they have been destroyed either by the beasts or by however brought you here. Looking around there’s nothing more, time to go out.

The only door leads you to an open room, the kitchen and living room placed together, in one of the sofas you can see someone laying down, their chest rising and falling softly, their face obscured by an old hat.

You try to be as quiet and sneaky as possible when getting back into the room “Where do you think you are going, kid?” his voice is thick with sleep but the sound is enough to make you yelp, slamming your shoulder against the door frame, the man jumps up and in a couple of strides he’s beside you “Can you more fucking careful? the stitches gonna get open and if you get an infection I ain’t risking my neck to get you meds”

He’s a bit taller than you with squared and wide shoulders, his face is stern and it seems like he’s annoyed about something, is it you? Did you anger him? You try to remember what could you have done to make him so mad but nothing comes to you, is not like you remember much, and what you do, is better to be left forgotten.

Heisenberg has seen many people look at him with fear, reverence even, but he has never been in the receiving end of a look like yours, he has to close his eyes for a second, carefully grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the kitchen, almost forcing you to take a seat in on of the wobbly chairs he owns.

“Well now that you are back with us, I can finally cook something to eat. You must be starving! I would too after the way you fought back there” he lets out a howl while he busies himself with pulling ingredients for whatever he’s cooking “I saw ya, you know? That was one hell of a show and I know about putting up good entertainment, you gave those lycans a good beating”

Lycans? So those things have names...uuuh, who would have thought.

"What's your name kid?" you get pulled out of your mind by his voice and the smell of cooking eggs, for a moment you wonder and think, that this is the time to be addressed by YOUR name "...I'm Y/N, sir"

"Cut the sir bullshit, you ain't trying to impress nobody here, you can call me Heisenberg, Karl if you wanna get my attention quickly, got it?"

"Yes...Heisenberg?"

He's rather harsh from what little you have seen of him, but he's careful when serving you breakfast, a steady hand serves you tea and makes quick work of a loaf of bread, whit that you two eat in relative silence, he eats like a wolf and that's enough to make you hide a smile.

"Once you are...better..." he's speaking between bites, eew "I'm taking you to get some new clothes, staying here ain't gonna be free, ok?" with his fork pointing at you he waits and continues without you answering "I'll have to teach you...that's gonna take time..."

"I'm a faster learner!"

Heisenberg laughs at the offended tone in your voice, taking a big gulp from his mug once he stops "I like ya kid, there's a fire in you and I respect that, we gonna get along"

It takes you almost 2 weeks to fully recover and be able to move without crying out in pain. On the day he announces that he must take off your stitches, he's kind when pulling on the thread, talking about how that same day he's taking you to the seamstress cuz he's "done" having you wear his stuff.

The seamstress in the Village seems flabbergasted when "Lord Heisenberg" comes into her house, demanding she makes you good sturdy pants and easy to move in shirts. From that sole visit is enough for people to call you "Heisenberg's assistant" whenever you are sent to the village or just went spotted by anyone. The Duke, the merchant that sometimes you have found yourself talking to, does nothing but fuel the rumor, people already fear Heisenberg on a god day, now they fear you might be spying for him.

You would be lying by saying that, Heisenberg is a normal man, he's flamboyant and loud, filled with pride, and what you can describe as...showmanship, he speaks with passion when explaining to you the ins and outs of the factory. He's always close, never breathing down your neck, just close enough to hear if you need help.

The first time you see him use his gift is the most embarrassing and awkward moment of your life.

You are working on some molds for pieces he needs to make from scratch, he taught you where you should work on that, away from whatever lurks in the lower areas of the factory. You were so engrossed in getting the mold out perfectly, tongue sticking out and heavy gloves helping you to pry open the damn thing open, you don't even jump when a hand lands on your shoulder, but you do when the ghoulish face of a corpse appears beside you.

He's running the second he hears you, a high pitched sound tearing through the noise of the machinery, he sees you bolting it towards him and a Zwei Soldat quickly catching up with you, the drill in its arm too close to your back, the moment you are close enough he pulls you towards and behind him, a metal sheet flying to the thing and beheading it in an instant.

"Kid...Kid, look at me, hey, eyes on me" you are not crying, there's no blood anywhere and nothing seems to be missing, you seem more startled than anything else, but you listen to him, concentrated on him and his voice "Y/N, it's ok kid, I'm here"

Then it happens, you let it slip. "Thanks...thanks dad"

You feel him go tense, the hands-on your shoulders shake for a second and embarrassment comes crashing down on you, you are ready for him to yell or push you away and order you to see if the mold is still useful, but he pulls you close, patting your back like you never said anything.

There are days when you can hear him talking on the phone, his voice growing irritated, and his explosive temper getting worst.

You are curled up in the crawlspace that he turned into your room, listening to him talking with someone, he sounds exasperated and nervous. This time he takes longer to come out from his room, a new cigar in his mouth and hammer over his shoulder, usually, he would tell you that he's leaving for a couple of hours, this time he's just there, tapping his foot and sparing quick glances at you.

"Get your coat, we need to leave"

That's new...he never takes you with him to wherever he goes, but you don't feel like arguing and do as he says, slipping your boots on and grabbing your coat.

Heisenberg is unusually quiet this time, only the snow crunching under your feet make enough sound to fill in the void, he takes you farther from the village and into a rundown church, you can hear new voices and the unforgettable sounds of the lycans snarling.

Inside the candlelight is soft and cast strange shadows of the people already waiting inside. There's a woman in a white dress that probably towers over you, another lady dressed in black and her covered, she sits in a corner with a creepy doll on her lap, and finally, a shy man who battles to cover himself with the torn cloth of his jacket.

"Is this why mother Miranda called us? Did you brought a new toy and never informed her? what a bad dog you are Heisenberg"

"Non of your business, Dimitrescu" Karl does everything to keep you behind him, away from the doll or the twisted man, but especially from the woman, Dimitrescu as he called her.

From where you stood, you could see how beautiful and regal she is, sitting with grace and a sarcastic smile plastered on her face. Noticing you, she moved slightly to get a better look, narrowing her eyes, making you feel small and like food. Before she can't even speak the sound of feathers caught your attention, giving Karl enough time to guide you to one of the pews, making you take a seat beside him.

The four adults greeted the new woman, the infamous mother Miranda, you have heard about her in the village and through small stories shared by the Duke, but mostly, you have heard Heisenberg curse the woman and call her every single name under the sun.

"Usually I wouldn't care for what my children do in their dominions, but, Karl, I must say I'm disappointed in you...to hide this child and avoid telling us?"

"I apologize, Miranda, the right opportunity never came" ooooh he's pissed

"I say you take his toy, Mother Miranda, and if possible, give me that lovely lady to me?" at that your gut twist uncomfortably, it's been some time since you were...addressed like that

"Excuse me?" Heisenberg cocks his head to the side, looking at Dimitrescu over his shades "Are you talking about my SON?"

"YOUR SON?! Don't make laugh, child, I can smell the sweet maiden blood running through her veins, that's a lady not one of your dirty lycans"

"And you are bitch no matter how well you dress!"

"ENOUGH!" Miranda's voice breaks them apart, everyone looking at her "Care to elaborate, Heisenberg?"

Karl takes a second to take a drag from his cigar and blow a cloud of some into the air "I found Y/N here, they fought hard to survive and I took them in, just like Alcina, and her lovely daughters...I decided it was my time to have a child of my own"

"That doesn't change the fact that you brought an outsider and didn't inform mother, and now you are trying to do what exactly? have...them...play house with you?"

"Lady Dimitrescu, that's enough" she's looking at you, mother Miranda in staring, and Heisenberg as a hand on your back, suddenly you are hyper-aware of everything, the sounds and smells, the movements each person in the room does, the way the candles flicker "I allow it, may this never happen again, Heisenberg. Next time there will be consequences"

You feel like passing out after that, the screams of Dimitrescu and the doll get drown by the ringing in your ears, everything keeping you together is Heisenberg's hand on yours cursing up a storm as he pulls you along with him.

The cold air feeling nice against your burning skin.

"Kid? I think you are ready" you are halfway through the trek back to the factory when he speaks again

"Ready for what?"

"To be introduced to the Heisenberg family true work, of course! What kind of father I would be if I don't involve you in our family's business"

You trip with your feet hearing him say that, so...he meant it? what he said in the church...that you are his son?

"Come on Y/N, I won't go easy on you because you are my kid now, quick quick"

Catching up to him is easy and you feel at peace when one of his arms wraps around you, he begins to talk about how many things he's gonna teach you and how exciting is to have a young mind to shape.

For the first time, you are eager to get back home.

[cocobutnochanel]

Brother | 18+

Genre: smut, slight fluff, discharged!Kyungsoo

Characters: Do Kyungsoo x Reader (oc: female)

Summary: Heartbreak makes you do crazy things like getting drunk with your friends and letting yourself loose. But with Do Kyungsoo back in town, letting yourself loose was a wrong move.

Warnings: alcohol intake, smoking, profanity, mature themes, sex scenes, one night stand

Kink List: drunk sex, unprotected sex, oral (male & female receiving), boob fetish, clothes destruction fetish, creampie, one night stand

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Authors Note: Soo is finally discharged and this AU was inspired by it! 

"Fuck." You mutter a curse under your breath when you feel your lungs constrict and your vision blur. "Where the hell is Chanyeol?!" You hiss when another pang hits your head.

You were slightly drunk and you were at a stranger's house. Break-ups were never nice to you which was why you needed breaks like these. Chanyeol brought you to a classmate’s house who was having a large house party for the football team's victory. You were here with your cheer team too but this would've been more fun if you came along with Jongdae and Minseok.

As if on cue with your thoughts, you hear Dae's voice. "Y/N! Yeol said you'd be here!" You see him walk inside the crowded kitchen you were in.

"Daedae! Mini!" You slurred, making him and Minseok laugh. "You were having all the fun alone, huh?" Minseok teases you which you respond with a grimace. "He's here.." You were sick to the stomach at the thought of your ex again.

Junmyeon was a nice guy. He was the best boyfriend to you even. You had bo idea what went wrong that he suddenly broke up with you. But that was the thing with good boys, they will mess you up good because you never saw what you were getting in the first place. You'd think it's all rainbows and cuddles. It's not, Junmyeon proved you that.

Minseok gives you a red cup with booze inside as his way of comforting you. "Thanks." You wink at him and at his attempt of cheering you up.

"If I didn't know better, I'd be mad at Chanyeol for leaving you alone but I know he's probably making out with the house owner." Jongdae sighed, looking at you with pitiful eyes. "I'm okay, Dae. Y'all can hook up all you want but please drive me home after." You laugh at him.

"Who's the house owner?" You ask him, remembering what he just said. "You don't know? He was your lab partner in bio." Ah! Now, you remembered. It was Baekhyun, the golden boy. He was a guy like your ex, Junmyeon: straight As, student-athlete and school councilor. They were the kids your parents compared you to and you paled in comparison.

You couldn't imagine your friend, Chanyeol, being with a guy like that. He was perfect, Chanyeol fucked whoever he liked.  "Calm down. They're hooking up, not getting married." Minseok said before your drunken thoughts ran further in your head.

"God, why did I drink so much?" You ask them with a wince. Jongdae only sighed and looked at you with eyes full of pity once again.

"Stop with the pity, we came here to party." Minseok rolls his eyes at Jongdae and drags you two out of the kitchen and into the dancefloor.

The stench of beer and sweat clouded the air. The music was loud, making your head pang but your hips swing. Jongdae puts his arms around you and Minseok as you swam through the crowd with heads bobbing to the beat. It was a feeling you knew but longed for. The drunken euphoric feeling. It made you forget your ex was even here. 

"Wooh!" Minseok hoots while dancing to the music that was deafening yet comforting at the same time. You match his energy and let yourself loose. It has been a while since you've been this free.

You feel the alcohol get to you. You had the sudden urge to get out and breathe.

You eye Jongdae who was having a good time with Minseok. "I'll just get some air.." You point outside and they just nod.

You make your way through the dancing crowd and find the main door. You walk out and finally, you have the oxygen to inhale. "Ugh.." You groaned, cracking your neck.

Walking to the front porch, you see a number of partygoers here too. Just like you, they needed air too. You spot an unfamiliar man with a bottle of beer in his hand. You wouldn't have the courage to approach him if you were sober but you weren't. The booze Minseok brought have officialy kicked in and it's giving you confidence.

It was dark but it was obvious that he was handsome and buff. "Hey, I don't know you." You stupidly greeted him, making him laugh heartily. Doe eyes, heart-shaped lips, defined jaw, thick eyebrows. He wasn't just handsome, he was a lot of it!

"I feel the same." He jokingly answered you when you neared him. You mentally curse yourself at how dorkish you approached the good-looking guy. "What I meant was you're probably not from our school?" You tried to explain and he nodded.

"I'm long out of school, kid." You snicker at his nickname for you. It's not like you're a literal child! You were a senior and nineteen now. He talked like he was 70 too, when in fact, he looked barely 20.

He notices your sneer and he laughs again. He offers you his free hand and your eyes widen at that. "Kyungsoo." He says his name with a glint in his eyes. A naughty one, at that.

"Y/N." You shyly answered, taking his hand too. "Smoke?" He shows you a box of cigarettes and you shake your head at that. "I'm still buzzed." You smile at him and he nods, taking a stick to his lips.

He lights it singlehandedly and starts sucking some of it in between his lips. "What's a grown man doing at a high-school party?" You jokingly jeered at him, trying to get back at him with the 'kid' nickname.

"Picking up my brother." He chuckles in between puffs. "Isn't your brother a senior like me? Can't he go home himself?" You pry further. "Strict parents." He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly.

You nod at what he said, running out of things to say. You really haven't seen him around despite your neighborhood being small. But you guessed it was because he was older and people around here left after high-school.

"Why are you out here?" He asked out of nowhere, cigarette still in his fingers. "Needed air." You breathe out and look at the empty sky above you.

"Wanna get out of here?" He says, tapping on his cigarette stick. You were surprised by his offer. It wasn't that you were unattractive but you didn't sleep around. You weren't the type to be asked to things like these.

He chuckles lightly at your shocked face. "What? You're gonna stare at my face the whole night?" He jokes, sucking his cigarette in for the fourth time. You didn't know what was taking over you but you knew you couldn't stop it. You were drunk and you were feeling a little hot. This handsome man wasn't helping either.

You inch towards him, the moment he breathes out smoke. You get on your tiptoes and kiss his perfectly plump lips, tasting nicotine and alcohol on them. Like him, it was addicting. The kiss was addicting.

You suckled on his bottom lip causing him to hold onto your neck. You hear him moan against your kiss and you smile at that. To tease him, you get back to your original height and stop kissing him.

"It's bad to tease a deprived man." He eyes you and the skimpy hot pink silky dress you were wearing. "Deprived?" You laugh at him. "I just got discharged." He smirks which surprised you. He was from the military? That explains why he's buff.

Unable to stop yourself, you get on your tiptoes to meet his lips once again. This time, he responds with much more fervor.

He throws away his cigarette stick and grabs your face in place with both hands. You groan against his touch as his fingers roam around the sides of your body. His touch drove you crazier and braver.

Without breaking the kiss, he guides you to his car and lets you inside. After a minute or two, he distances himself and starts walking to the driver side.

Your lips instantly felt the absence of his touch and it drove you nuts. You wanted him, all of him, now. The car roars to life as he started pulling out of Baekhyun's driveway.

"Weren't you supposed to pick your brother up?" You ask despite the growing hunger inside you. "He's a senior, he can go home himself." He smirks, mocking your question earlier.

You smile amusingly at how he's so charming. Well, he charmed his way into your pants in less than ten minutes. What did you expect?

The hunger inside you pushed you to be braver. You never did anything like this inside a car but you guessed there was always a first for everything. You bent down which surprised him.

You unzipped his pants and his 8-inch member sprung to life when you let it peek from his boxers. He was hard after one kiss? Well, he was right. He was indeed deprived. The reddish tip looked swollen as it twitched in your hands, begging you take it in.

Lust took over you and you let your tongue roll off its head. You hear Kyungsoo groan and it drives you crazier than you already were. You gather your hair and hold it yourself since he was driving. Your head bobbed up and down as your lips enveloped his cock.

"Holy shit." He speeds down the street as you let your tongue swirl around the erection. You smile as your tongue ran around it, making it harder for him to control.

His hips bucked as you taste his precum oozing. Salty, bitter but satisfying, you thought. He finally pulls up into a garage and the car stops humming.

He puts his pants back in place and drags you out of the car, his lips meeting yours as soon as you step out. "Jump." He growled. You obey him and interlace your thighs against his torso. He carries you inside the house and up to his room without breaking the kiss.

His hand rested on your bottom, alighting an unknown flame inside you. He throws you onto his bed and hovers above you after. You squirmed under his lustful eyes. You knew you wanted more. You wanted him.

You were on some unknown high the moment he tore your silk dress apart effortlessly. His eyes skimmed over your body like a beast eyeing his prey carefully and you, the prey desperate to be devoured.

You arch your back when his fingertips met your bra. His eyes were glued on your face and every reaction you made, his erection throbbed even more.

He ripped your underwear aggressively. You wanted to worry about what you will wear after this since your dress and undies were now ruined but lust clouded your judgment.

His hands roamed around your body and you whimpered like a cat in heat. "Fuck." He curses under his breath when his warm palms massaged your breasts. "Kyungs-soo." You stuttered while still squirming under his touch.

"What do you want, baby?" He growls, looking at you with dark eyes. "I-I want you.." You begged but he smirked. "Later.. I have to spoil this baby first." His teasing eyes left yours as he went down on you.

You feel his tongue flick your clit as if he was testing waters. You quivered at that contact while his hands still on your boobs.

His teeth grazed your wet pussy as you felt him smile against it. His hold on your chest even became tighter, making you moan and arch your back even more. "Sweet." He commented, licking his lips and making it touch your clit at the same time.

He ate you out while you squirmed under him, your fingers in his locks. You close your eyes when he starts pinching your nipples. "K-Kyungsoo!" You couldn't help but scream in pleasure as a wave of release washed over you. Your thighs trembled and your eyes roll back when you finally feel something come out of you.

"Kyungsoo, I want you. God." You breathe out as he starts teasing the tip of his dick against your throbbing pussy. He bows down to suck your nipples and you whimper for the nth time tonight.

He senses your need and desperation. Finally, he enters you which surprises you. Your eyes widened at the impact when he filled you up to the brim, making him grin mischievously. He starts thrusting slowly, feeling every inch of you inside.

He picks up his pace as he holds your thighs in place and his mouth still on your nipples. You moan repeatedly while he pounds you harder and harder. "Soo!" You scream when he started biting your hard peaks.

It doesn't take both of you long to come at the same time. He groans one last time as you feel his hot liquid fill you up.

He pulls out, juices dripping out of you making him smirk in satisfaction. He heads to his bathroom and take a shower as you unknowingly doze off in his bed, soreness and his scent enveloping your bare body.

-

Blinding sunlight woke you up. You flutter your eyes open and see an arm draped over your stomach. Kyungsoo, you remembered.

"Fuck.." You whisper when you spot your torn dress and underwear on the floor. You wondered what the hell you would wear now that Kyungsoo just destroyed everything.

Your soft voice woke him up. His face looked so much better under the sun that it did last night. If you didn't know better, you'd even think he was innocent and soft. Yet you knew how he rocked your world last night said otherwise.

He gets up, still in his boxers. "Good morning." His groggy voice was hot and you couldn't deny it made you feel something you felt last night.

"Good morning but first, what will I wear now?" You bite your lip nervously. He chuckles at your worried face. "Here." He gives you a black hoodie and grey sweatshorts from his closet.

"These are mine now?" You ask him while slipping them on. It was weird wearing clothes without anything underneath but you had no choice.

You open his door and get out of his room. "No, silly. It's an excuse to meet again." He growls in your ear which makes you giggle. He was flirting with you the next morning. This was more than just a one night stand, you thought.

"Have breakfast with me?" He brings your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. You smile at how he can be so sweet. "You aren't a deprived man anymore. Why let me have breakfast here?" You teased, earning a smile from him.

He goes up to you and kisses your neck as he leads you to his kitchen. His lips started darting upwards to your jaw and you couldn’t help but let out tiny moans. You were about to meet his lips with your own but someone interrupted.

"Y/N?" A familiar voice thundered from his kitchen. You whip your head around yet Kyungsoo stays unbothered, his lips still suckling your sensitive jaw.

"What the hell are you doing with my brother?" Junmyeon glowers, a smirking Kyungsoo teasing him. "Jun?" You ask with so much disbelief in your voice. You knew he had a brother but you had no idea who it was or where he was.

"Didn't your dumbass break up with her already?" Kyungsoo smiles as he snakes an arm around your waist visibly, eyeing his brother mockingly. "Yeah but-" Your ex wasn't able to respond when he was cut off by his own brother.

"Your loss, bro." Kyungsoo chuckles.

[pappydaddy]

Mashed Potatoes and Joel Hoekstra (b.h.)

 A/N: This is for the lovely anon who wanted a Billy x Byers!Reader. I was so excited to write this one, I loved this request (I am loving ALL requests, but I’ve been loving these Billy ones lately!). Definitely very fun to write this one so thank you so much for requesting doll! Hope you love it lovely anon💛!

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Byers!Reader

Show/Movie: Stranger Things

Requested

Warnings: Mean people, bullying, prejudice, the shits of the teenage years, but fluff in the end!

Remember guys! Your family name does not define you or someone else! It’s who they are that defines them, it’s who you are that defines you. It’s how you act, how you treat people, etc. Just like you don’t judge a book by it’s cover, you don’t judge a person by their name. If anyone tries to put you in a box simply because of a prejudice with your name, ignore them. I know it’s hard, I know - trust me, but they really don’t deserve your time. And if you feel trapped in a box because of your name, just know that you can break free from that box. My DMs are ALWAYS open if you lovelies need to talk💛!

masterlist | taglist | wips | navigation - not my gif - 

  “Billy,” Y/N’s soft voice broke the tranquil silence that had settled over the room. Her finger that had been tracing random shapes on his chest stopped moving, her eyes flicking around the darkroom as she waited for him to respond in some way. She knew he wasn’t asleep by the lack of snores lowly rumbling in his chest (which she also laid her head upon) and his breathing pattern. He hummed, the sound reverberating in his chest, his hand still stroking up and down along the dip in her back where her spine was. “We’ve been dating for a few months now-” 

  “Six months.” He interjected, pressing a warm kiss to the top of her head. 

  “Right, yeah, we’ve been dating for six months,” She nodded, her already tangled hair tangling a bit more. Her voice was nervous, not knowing how he would react to her bringing this up. “And I was just thinking that maybe it would be time for you to meet my family,” She asked, her voice pitching up towards the end. “Maybe. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it’s just everyone else I’ve dated has met them by now, but then again, everyone else I’ve ever dated left a few weeks after meeting them so-”

  “You’re rambling again, Bug.” Billy cut her off gently, knowing that she rambled and rants when she’s nervous and scared. Her cheeks heated up, burning as she settled back down to cuddle into Billy’s bare chest. 

  “Sorry.” She whispered. 

  Billy pressed another kiss to her hair, knowing that her ex’s all harped on her about her nervous rambles, making her snap her mouth shut and sink into herself. “Nothing to be sorry for, Bug, you’re nervous.” He reassured her. 

  She took a deep breath, calming herself as Billy gave her the silent support she needed. “Back on track,” She nodded her tone calm once again. “I still think you should meet my family because they are really important to me and you’re really important to me and I just really would like it if you guys got along,” She expressed nervously. The room was silent as she waited impatiently for his response, her breath was hitched, her mind automatically assuming that he was going to leave her right here, right now because he didn’t want to meet her family or worse, not feel the same about her. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to; if you’re not there in the relationship, that’s fine, we can take a few steps back if you’d like-” She started to shrink away from him, her mind panicking as it continued to imagine him leaving her like the rest - like her father. 

  “No-” Billy interjected softly, gently pulling her back to be flush against him. “I’ll meet your family only if you get some sleep, it’s late and you’re exhausted. He bargained, suddenly feeling nervous and wanting her to go to sleep for her sake and his. 

  “Okay, deal.” She yawned, closing her eyes, snuggling her cheek farther into his chest, listening to the beating of his heart. Billy squeezed his eyes closed as he tried to control his heartbeat so he didn’t alert her to his sudden nervousness. 

____  

  The next day was relaxed other than Billy’s increasing nervousness. He loved Y/N, he was at that place in the relationship where the only logical step would be to meet each other’s family, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of doom. For one, meeting her family meant she would have to meet his family and he wanted to keep her as far away from Neil as possible. Secondly, the Byers family had a certain reputation around Hawkins High and Middle and Billy had heard all about it from his friends. Of course, he was stand-off-ish of Y/N before they started dating because of this reputation, but everything turned out fine with her so why wouldn’t her family be the same? 

  “What’s got you so quiet, Hargrove?” Tommy asked aggressively as they mulled around the locker room, changing after gym class. Billy jolted out of his thoughts as he just stood, staring into his locker. Looking back at Tommy, he blinked at him for a second before comprehending what his question was. 

  “Uh, nothing,” Billy shook his head, grabbing his shirt from his locker, slipping it on. “It’s just that Y/N invited me over to meet her family.” He had no idea why he was confessing this to Tommy and his other friends of all people, knowing how they feel about Y/N and the rest of her family. The words had tumbled out before he could even think about stopping them. 

  “Woah,” Tommy exclaimed, laughing as he pretended to back away from Billy as if he were carrying some sort of contagious disease. “Boys! Say good-bye to the Billy we all know because soon, he’s gonna be infected by the Weird-os.” His statement earned a chorus of laughs from the boys huddled around. 

  “Buzz off Tommy, they can’t be that bad. I mean, Y/N is great!” Billy said mostly to himself, closing his locker. 

  “Sure, she’s the most normal one,” Tommy shrugged. “But the rest of them man,” He shook his head as if telling some old wise tale. “They are complete basket cases. Completely messed in the head. Look at Jonathan for an example,” Tommy paused, walking over to Billy and slinging his arm over his shoulder. “Nobody talks to him, he sits in the back of the classes or in that stupid dark room, playing with his stupid little camera.” 

  “Y/N says that he’s quiet and works most of the time so he doesn’t have much time to hang out and the time he does have, he chooses to practice photography.” Billy pointed out, pushing Tommy’s arm off him. Tommy remained unfazed, leaning against the lockers as he continued.

  “Alright, if not Jonathan, then the younger one,” He paused, using his hands to set the scene. “He died, okay? Died and came back to life like in one of his freaky little movies he and his dork friends watch,” Billy glared at him, knowing full well that Max was one of his friends. “Much like his brother, he just sits there and colours and colours and colours. He’s in middle school and still colours like a pre-schooler.” 

  “He’s pretty talented, I’ve seen some of his pictures in the car when Y/N has it.” 

  “Now, let’s talk about the mother. She works at a general store, she dated that geek from Radio Shack, her husband left her, she had a meltdown in the middle of the street, she bought all the fucking lights in Hawkins because she thought her dead son was talking to her through them,” He paused. Billy opened his mouth to defend Joyce, but Tommy cut him off. “They are weird, Hargrove. They are completely nuts and you better prepare to be just as nuts because I am pretty sure it’s contagious.” 

  “Just look at Harrington and Wheeler,” Another guy piped up, making Billy look towards him. “They started to hang around with the Byers and look at them, they turned just as crazy. Constantly looking over their shoulders, Harrington only hangs around kids now, always having hushed conversations with them and Wheeler only talks to Jonathan now.” 

  “That’s not-” 

  ‘That’s not the same,” Tommy cut Billy off with a question. “It is exactly the same. Meeting the Byers is like the kiss of death. Kills your social life and makes you crazy-” 

  “Billy,” Y/N’s voice called into the locker room from the door she held slightly open. “Are you in here, we should really be getting to lunch, I’m starving!” 

  “Yeah, be out in a second!” He called to her, the door softly closing in response. He nervously looked at the door as Tommy clicked his tongue. 

  “It’s your choice, Hargrove, it’s your grave you’re digging.” Billy glared at him, shrugging on his jean jacket and leaving the locker room. His eyes met Y/N easily, seeing her talking to Steve excitedly. Though Billy still didn’t like Steve, he didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity at that given time to deal with his fluffy-haired nemesis, too busy fretting about what to do about meeting Y/N’s family. 

  “There you are, I was worried that you accidentally slammed your head in the locker or something,” She joked, not realizing that Billy was actually considering it. He didn’t want to make her think that he wasn’t ready to take the next step in the relationship, but I also was scared now. As much as he wanted to admit that he didn’t trust Tommy H and all the other guys, he really did want to say that he let their warnings roll off his back, but he couldn’t. “Come on, I want to eat, see you, Steve!” She grabbed Billy’s hand, pulling him out of the gym and into the halls. 

  “What were you talking to Harrington about?” He asked, hoping that it was completely unrelated to her having him over for dinner. 

  “About you meeting my family,” She chirped happily. Billy wanted to deflate right there. Of course it had to be about that. It couldn’t have been about anything else. Anything to take his mind off something so anxiety inducing. “He thinks it’s a great idea! He said that you would love my family and I really hope he’s right.” 

  “I really hope so too-” He muttered under his breath. 

  “What was that?” She asked, her brows furrowing as she leaned in closer. 

  “Nothing, Bug.” He told her, hoping she would buy it. She pulled a face, shrugging before regaining her giddy mood. 

  “Must have just been hearing things,” She chalked it up. “Anyway, I was thinking that you should come round to my place at seven? My mom is off today so she’s been prepping for this since nine this morning!” 

  “Yeah, about that,” Billy spoke slowly, dreading what he was about to do. He really didn’t want to do it, but he needed to buy himself sometime so he could figure out his next move. Find a way to keep Y/N while not having to meet her family. “I’m feeling a little sick to my stomach, Bug. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to go tonight.” 

  “Oh no,” She gasped, her hand squeezing his affectionately as she stopped in the hallway. “You might have overdone it in gym today, especially when I accidentally kicked that soccer ball right into your stomach, sorry about that by the way.” 

  “No, it wasn’t that, but you do have one hell of a kick on you,” He shook his head, not wanting her to blame herself. “I just think I’m coming down with something and I really don’t want to infect your family.” He lied through his teeth. 

  She awed, her hand coming up to cup his cheek sweetly. “That’s so sweet,” She cooed. Her hand slid from his face as disappointment flashed across her face, but it was gone as soon as it came, or at least she tried to fake it. Billy could see the disappointment she tried to bury, his heart pulling at the sight of it, knowing that he was the one who caused it. “It’s alright, I want you to worry about your health first. I’ll just go call my mom and tell her that there was a change of plans-” She paused, looking for a quarter as she tried to ignore the worry bubbling up once again. “Could I borrow a quarter? I think I spent mine calling her earlier to check up.” She asked, extending her flat palm, waiting for him to drop a quarter in it. 

  Billy tucked his bottom lip between his teeth. He could tell she was thinking that he was trying to avoid meeting her family because he just didn’t want to. While there was some truth to that, he couldn’t let her feel like he was pulling away from her. “You know what,” He pushed her hand back down to her side. “I’m going to go to the nurse and see if she can help me. I’ll see you before next period and update you, Bug.” He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before running off down the hall. 

  “Okay-” She breathed out, shocked. She watched him run past Tommy and his gaggle of idiots, the group watching him run - laughing. 

  “Oh, the crazy is already starting to rub off on you, Hargrove!” Tommy yelled, but Billy either ignored it or didn’t hear it. Y/N eyed Tommy oddly before eyeing Billy’s retreating form. 

____

  The fact that Billy stood at the front door of the Byers’ house was a miracle in itself, considering how many times Billy considered swerving hard right into a tree in order to escape this night, but he pushed forward, knowing that Y/N was worth it. He tightened his grip on the bouquet of flowers, the thorns digging into his hand making him wince. Groaning, he switched holds, shaking his stinging hand out. He felt constricted in his clean cut clothes, his button-up buttoned more than usual, only the first two buttons being undone. The slacks itched his legs and made him feel like he was heading to a Sunday service. 

  Taking a deep breath, he raised his close fist, hitting his knuckles against the door twice in rapid succession. He could hear a scuffle from behind the door and Y/N’s distinctive voice pleading with her mother to let her answer it. The door was jerked open, revealing a breathless woman and a blushing Y/N standing in the back looking defeated. “You must be Y/N’s sister.” Billy used his normal line that worked wonders on mothers, but he was so off his game that he sounded a bit nervous, spitting the line out a few moments too late. The woman didn’t seem to mind, taking the compliment easily.  

  “Oh, stop it,” She flicked her hand, a wide smile nearly breaking her face as she laughed. “You must be Billy,” She continued to giggle, the laughter making her look youthful. If Billy hadn’t known that she had two teenagers and a pre-teen, then Billy would have thought she was much younger. “I’m Joyce, come on in, you must be cold,” She ushered him in hurriedly, her hand guiding him into the warm, cozy house as it rested on his upper back. “Standing out there in only a shirt in this fall weather.” She shook her head, closing the door behind him. 

  “Mom-” Y/N whined, embarrassed by her mother’s fussing. Joyce gave her a look, silencing the whine. 

  “You stop that and get this poor boy a drink,” Joyce insisted, leading Billy over to one of the couches. With a small groan in protest, Y/N ducked into the kitchen and out of Billy’s sight, sending him right on edge again. He sat on the couch, his clammy hands running over his slacks as his eyes watched Joyce. She was fairly gentle and normal looking for someone everyone called insane. “Will, go grab Jonathan from the shed, supper is going to be in a few minutes.” Joyce told the small looking boy who worked at setting the table for five, a mismatched chair added to the four that looked like they normally surround the table.

  “You have a lovely home Ms. Byers, thank you for having me.” He extended the pleasantry, seeing Y/N coming into the room with a glass of water. 

  “Please, call me Joyce,” She told him, waving him off once again. “And it’s no problem, Hunny. We’re glad to have you. You’re welcome anytime!” She reassured him, thinking that his nerves were from the donating task of meeting the family for the first time. 

  “Will do.” Billy nodded, gulping down his water. Y/N sat next to him on the couch, her hand naturally falling to his knee. Though his nerves lifted with each passing second he spends with them, he couldn’t seem to get Tommy’s warnings out of his head. 

  “You know, my mom was so excited for you to get here, she side-checked me out of the way to get the door,” Y/N told him, giggling. That seemed normal enough, they all seemed to have a good relationship with each other. It was more functional than his family and they were deemed normal. “And I definitely think you made her entire night with your comment.” 

  “Kids, dinner is ready,” Joyce called from the kitchen. Y/N patted Billy’s leg, standing up. Billy swallowed thickly, feeling like he was walking to his death as he neared the table filled with loads of dishes full of a beautiful home-cooked meal. “Billy, dear, you’re the guest so you can sit here,” Joyce patted the chair at the head of the table, before pointing to the chair next to it that sat between the wall and the table. “Y/N, you sit there.” She instructed her daughter. 

  “So, Billy,” Will spoke up, taking his place beside Y/N, looking directly at the blonde as he scooted his chair in. “Max tells me you like rock music. What’s your favourite band?” He posed the question, grabbing the pitcher of water and filling his glass up. 

  “Uh- I’ve been listening to a lot of Whitesnake lately, but I would say the Scorpions are my favourite band I guess.” Billy answered him, his hands nervously hovering over his plate, not sure what he should be doing. 

  “That’s cool, I like The Clash the most personally, but I like watching the Whitesnake videos, their hair is really cool-” Will nodded, accepting Billy’s answer. 

  “And where have you been watching Whitesnake videos, young man?“ Joyce perked in eyebrow at the youngest, making him shrink back slightly, but Billy could tell it was all playful banter. 

  “At Dustin’s.” He admitted, making Y/N laugh and nod as if it were to suspected. 

  “That was probably Steve’s doing, no doubt.” Y/N pointed out, filling up her own water before filling Billy’s glass automatically.

  “Yeah, it was Steve, he turned MTV on while he was watching us play D&D,” Will perked up at the mention of Steve. Looking right at Billy, he excitedly spoke. “I drew Joel Hoekstra a few months ago, but I made fire shoot out the end of the neck of his guitar. It’s insanely cool.” 

  “Billy, you haven’t gotten any food yet! Go on, you get some first.” Joyce noticed, holding a bowl of mashed potatoes to him. He looked at the bowl of potatoes, perfectly whipped. To anyone else at the table, it was just a bowl of starch and butter, but to Billy, it was the sign that they weren’t crazy. They were just not fitting into the box that everyone says you have to fit in. Looking at the bowl, he felt every bit of nervousness and apprehensiveness leave his body. Smiling, he gently took the bowl, scooping some out onto his plate, causing everyone to start putting food on their plates. 

  “Hey, Will,” Billy spoke up, causing everyone to look at him nervously. Jonathan eyed him, not trusting him yet. “Maybe after dinner, you could show me that drawing? Joel Hoekstra is my favourite member of Whitesnake.” He suggested, causing the boy to light up. Y/N smiled gently, her hand laying over Billy’s gratefully. Who knew that some mashed potatoes and Joel Hoekstra was all it took to see the Byers for who they were.

[melony-lemony]

people make batman too mentally unstable

like damn I get that some stuff never leaves like the pain of his parents death and the guilt of making mistakes but he's not that unhinged

he still believes in the good, that's why he never kills, that's why he's ready to lend a hand to any rogues, that's why he's continuing to help a city as corrupt as Gotham

he's shown to repeatedly care for rogues, for villains, for his children, for his city, for people, you know, positively, actively

and yes I get it if the story was meant to be darker, that's fine, it depends on the situation, but just, in general? it's so unfair to his character

people just love to bring up his mistakes and make it like it defines him, like hello?? keep in mind that there's many variations of Bruce because of several different writers and of course he's going to be different IN EVERY DIFFERENT SCENARIO. HES NOT GONNA ACT THE SAME WHEN EVERYTHING IS FINE AND WHEN THE WORLD IS ENDING. and they mention and bring up Bruce's shittier moment written by shittier writers and then be like oOOo he's such a bad dad uh huh and???? as if all the batkids and every fucking character hasn't been a shitty person once in their entire comic book career???? why are you focusing on the shitty part? it's not like the batkids are entirely innocent???? it's a different story if they were forced to do this BUT THEY WERENT. THEY WERE THE ONE WHO INSISTED ON IT. SO WHY IS IT BRUCES FAULT???

people make him be too mentally unstable like.... he carries a lot of guilt but he also has a lot of hope and love oh my gOD HE WOULDN'T HAVE TRIED SO HARD TO HELP VILLAINS WHO TRIED TO KILL HIM. BE CONSIDERATE OF CHILDREN AND TRY HIS BEST NOT TO SCARE THEM. TAKE IN CHILDREN THAT NEEDED HIM.

people actually need to see him in canon instead of like, stereotyping him and/or taking versions of him from darker storylines

he jokes around a lot and not in the haha laugh kinda way but the deadpan sarcastic one, and he also smirks, and he also trusts his team a whole fucking lot. he doesn't scold them because ohh the mission could be done better he scolds them because THEY COULDVE GOTTEN INJURED OR EVEN KILLED THEMSELVES

are you telling me this man who dedicated his entire life to making the world a better place, both within the law and outside of it, both as Bruce and as batman, who keeps on supporting homeless people and orphans and holds charity a lot and supports too much and expect nothing in return, who keeps moving forward even after all the shit he was put through, who sees the best in everyone and if they're willing to better themselves he will help them along the way, who provides a safe space for aliens and heroes and vigilantes and metahumans and children, a man who does all that, is shitty?

without him, justice league wouldn't be possible, and yeah they could become a team without him but they wouldn't be as organized as him. they may say he's too strict but what he says is right, they rely too much on their power, there's countless of times where their powers were stripped away from them, or when someone copies their power, and what do they do now? not to mention there wouldnt be anyone to fund the watchtower, the resources, the help and medicines and the zeta tubes that makes help so easily accessible

he gives gives gives but refuses to take

he's emotional, his heart is too big and it's bleeding, that's why he's like this, you think "oh parents dying is such a lame backstory" and yet he became one of the best heroes ever. because he cares, because he knows how it feels like to be surrounded and drowning in pain, and he doesn't want that to happen to anyone else.

he cares so much and it hurts that people don't see it

it's another one of his contradictions, people think he's unfeeling and uncaring, and yet he feels the most pain out of them all, and yet he cares the most

he knows how it's liked to be suffocated by the darkness, and yet he uses it to his advantage, hides in it, strikes in it, make a symbol of pain and suffering into one of hope and safety

and yeah maybe he's worse when he just started out as batman, but he's better now, he has his family and he has his friends, of course he's getting better, and it's like, another thing with him is that he's trying to move on from his parents death, aka moving towards the future, and yet people are always stuck on his origin story, stuck in the past he so desperately tries to move on from, stuck when he was in a worse place mentally

and it's so unfair to him, let him heal, let him be happy, please

[deadlyanddelicate]

hey this may be a stupid question, but it's already been a long time since ive read trk so i don't remember everything properly, so can you explain to me why exactly ganseys behavior in the book is seen as problematic??

hey! don’t worry, there are no stupid questions in my book. in fairness, it’s not about gansey’s behaviour in trk, it’s about his behaviour throughout the whole series. most of his problematic actions all come down to the same basic flaw: self-centeredness. for all that gansey is a generous and loving person, he can’t help but make everything about himself. he is driven by anxiety to define his place in the world beyond his privilege, yet he is blinded by that very same privilege - a bad combination, and one that leads him to show very little empathy for the people he loves.

like many teenagers, he’s looking for affirmation from his friends... but then resents them for not giving it, while failing to see that (most of) his friends are dealing with traumatic issues. when his friends reject his input - because it is not what they need or want at the moment - gansey always, always takes it personally. at no point does he try to ask himself, okay, if this isn’t what my friends need, then what do they need from me and how can i be a better friend? instead, he goes straight into self-pity mode, complaining that his friends reject his support and walk away from him. thing is... it’s not real support if it only makes him feel better and not them.

i don’t really have the time to write an extensive meta on all of the interactions where gansey’s lack of empathy comes into play, but here’s a list of just the most glaring ones in the series, in no particular order:

gansey consistently tries to pay for adam’s way and persuade him to move in with him, even though adam has told him multiple times that he is uncomfortable with it because independence is key to his sense of self as an abuse survivor. sometimes he does this even when he’s fully aware that it will start a fight. despite that, adam is usually the one apologizing, at least on page

notably in trb there’s a scene where gansey tries to get adam to move in with him, but when adam asks what’s going to happen if gansey leaves henrietta - is adam just supposed to drop out of aglionby and follow him? - gansey doesn’t reassure him that’s not gonna happen. he just says adam will have to start again at a new school. 

as i said above, this is not true support because it helps gansey feel better without inconveniencing him, but it is not what adam wants. if gansey wanted to support adam, he’d at least promise he would stay in henrietta for their final year of high school, instead of expecting adam to follow him around the world.

when adam rejects that offer and says he’ll stay in the trailer park, gansey takes it incredibly personally and his first response is to victim-blame adam for his abuse, saying things like: “you let your dad pound the shit out of you. you’re as bad as [your abusive mother]. you think you deserve it.” when adam still refuses to move in, and tells him, rightfully so, that gansey doesn’t know what it’s like for him, gansey follows that up with “don’t pretend you have anything to be proud of”. this is past mean and straight into cruel.

adam is the one who apologizes after this fight. let that sink in.

when thinking back on ronan’s suicide attempt, it is strongly implied in the text - and was made explicit in deleted scenes - that gansey appears to have taken ronan’s suicide attempt not just as a traumatic event, but as a slight against him, and is always vaguely guilt-trippy when it comes up (i.e. you promised me you wouldn’t get suicidal again)

gansey does illegal things on ronan’s behalf, multiple times, without ever wondering if this is what ronan wants, see: bribing school officials to keep ronan in school when ronan explicitly wants to drop out, because staying in school is what gansey thinks he should do. even if gansey’s heart was in the right place (i believe in staying in school), he is essentially involving ronan in illegal dealings against his will.

gansey is happy to share his search for glendower with the others, and delegate tasks to them (adam especially) as long as they do things his way. when adam acts against one of his decisions, gansey is absolutely unable to let that go. and while i understand that he is hurt by the breach of trust, because adam went behind his back, his language is telling: “i did tell him that we were to wait, right?”. you don’t “tell” your friends what they “are to do”. that’s not an equal relationship. 

this is also seen in the way gansey acts with ronan in more of a parental role, actively ordering him about. you know there is a problem when an outside character refers to ronan as “gansey’s dog” and neither gansey nor ronan disagree with this.

there’s the infamous hospital scene in trb, too, which has been excellently analysed in this meta post by @bleachersmp3 and @mericatblackwood, but i’ll say a few words about it anyway

in this scene, adam has just been beaten into losing his hearing. he has just come out of the hospital, bruised and traumatised, and has been told he will now have a permanent disability as a result of his abuse. he is now also homeless, because by pressing charges against his father to protect ronan, he has ensured his parents will kick him out for good. so he is forced to move into monmouth - something we have been told from the start of the book he absolutely did not want, because it was critical to his sense of self not to depend on gansey’s wealth. so, he’s bitter about it.

and okay, that’s not entirely fair, because it wasn’t gansey’s fault. but if your friend had just undergone such horrific trauma, surely you would be a little lenient, and understand they’re not being objective atm, right? well, not gansey. instead, gansey launches into a tirade at him: “what is your problem, adam? [...] is there something about my place that’s too repugnant for you? [...] I’m sick of tiptoeing around your principles!”

when adam snaps at him that he’s being condescending by using highbrow words (we can assume that this is a discussion they’ve had before, because adam tries to get gansey to use more everyday words multiple times in the book, especially when it’s clear that blue doesn’t understand something, so it’s something gansey already know adam finds condescending), gansey goes straight to victim-blaming again, this time with a classist twist thrown in: “i’m sorry your father never taught you the meaning of repugnant. he was too busy smashing your head against the wall of your trailer while you apologized for being alive.”

gansey does not apologize at any point after this fight. 

when adam sacrifices himself to cabeswater - which he does explicitly to stop whelk from murdering one of them and save gansey - gansey takes it as a slight against him, because it goes against what he told adam to do, and sadly asks adam “why? was i so awful?”, showing he has completely misunderstood adam’s reasons. adam tells him, and not for the last time: “it was never about you”.

it clearly doesn’t sink in bc they have the same discussion in the dream thieves, when gansey again asks him why did he go to cabeswater against his orders. he does this in an emotionally manipulative way, too - implying that ronan and blue both think badly of him while gansey has been defending him so adam owes him. adam again tries to tell him “it wasn’t about you”, which gansey refuses to believe, and reminds adam that the glendower search “belongs” to him. adam replies that if gansey wants adam’s help - which gansey relies upon frequently, as it seems like adam is assigned a very large share of research and coming up with ideas - he needs to treat him as an equal

after the fight, when adam has a mental breakdown due to the combination of stress, ptsd, and magically-induced hallucinations, and is found wandering along a highway, clearly dissociating and undergoing amnesia, gansey is still so bitter about their fight that he contemplates leaving him behind in dc, so that “adam will have to apologize for once” (for once???)

consider all this emphasis gansey puts on how much adam betrayed his trust; consider that gansey then spends nearly two books seeing blue behind adam’s back (starting in tdt, through bllb, and halfway through trk)

consider that despite the fact adam takes the reveal gracefully and thanks gansey for his honesty, when adam later in trk is honest with gansey about his feelings for ronan, gansey’s immediate reaction is to assume adam is using ronan as a sexuality experiment and warns him not to break ronan’s heart, because ronan is just so fragile and adam is just so cold

consider that the only basis gansey has for making this assumption is that “adam has hurt him (gansey) so many times before”, but never stops to think about his own responsibility in their disagreements, or whether he ever hurt adam 

as you can see, the vast majority of these are in the first two books, with the exception of the “shovel talk” in trk. i would like to say gansey grows over the series, but i think unfortunately it’s more to do with the fact that starting with bllb, the plot is split between gansey/blue and adam/ronan, so gansey just doesn’t get as many interactions with adam and ronan (he’s still bribing school officials on ronan’s behalf though, including selling monmouth which at the time is where ronan is also living). 

gansey isn’t a bad person, and doesn’t (always) mean badly. he does love his friends. unfortunately, his refusal to see things from anyone’s perspective but his own makes him a toxic friend on a great number of occasions.

[pradaksj]

7 Rings | 01

♛ pairing: taehyung/reader

♛ genre: richboy!taehyung | blackmailer!reader | infiltration au | slow burn | eventual smut | angst | fluff 

♛ rating: mature

♛ word count: 12,000+

♛ warnings for this chapter : explicit language, terminal illness, this chapter basically just sets the foundation of this story up so sorry if it’s a little boring 

♛ summary:  In need of money for your mom’s medical bills, you and your best friend come up with a plan to infiltrate one of Seoul’s richest families, the Kim family. The plan was simple, blackmail, get your money, and disappear, but of course things don’t always go as planned. Especially not with someone like Kim Taehyung.

━ ❝ Whoever said money can't solve your problems, must not have had enough money to solve 'em. ❞

♛ chapter index/masterlist || series masterlist || next chapter 

Chapters⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08

“Why Y/N?” his voice cracks, the look of betrayal evidently on his face. 

"I never—" you sobbed. Your throat felt swollen and you stuttered, pitifully trying to speak the words in your head. "I never meant for it to go this far," you said at last. 

How did you end up here? Where did everything go wrong? When had the rabbit hole simply become too deep? The sounds of several voices echoed in your head. 

You could hear him calling your name, begging  no demanding an answer, but all you could do was stare off into space, thinking of everything that led up this exact moment. 

If only you could turn back time. 

3 Months Ago.

Friday Morning.

“In today’s news, the Kim family’s multibillion dollar deal has been officially confirmed. Their partnership with Hyundai is estimated to bring in at least seven billion in revenue to Korea’s economy over the next 5 years. Both parties have agreed to terms that will lift…”

Oh the irony.

Sighing, you turned off the radio of your run-down 2006 grey Hyundai, which every morning you had to cross your fingers and hope that the engine wouldn't burn out on you. The rumbling sounds of the engine starting up never failing to catch the attention of pedestrians walking by. 

After several frustrating minutes of struggling to parallel park, you sat in your car and allowed yourself to sulk for a moment. Another day, another dollar to make. Even if it meant having to deal with rude and entitled customers all day, your school loans plus your bills just weren’t going to pay themselves off anytime soon. 

“One day at a time Y/N, just one day at a time,” you reassured yourself, placing on your mandatory logoed hat, and mentally preparing yourself for another day. If only you were rich.

Friday Night.

Despite being tired from work, visiting your mom was something you always felt like you needed to do every so often, plus her homemade meals were quite often a bonus considering how lazy you’d often get to cook food for yourself. In fact, the pizza shop near your apartment not only having your order, but voice completely memorized for whenever you called. The young employee quickly interrupting your greeting with a, “Pepperoni pizza, half sausage, half Hawaiian, and a pink lemonade?” surprisingly no longer offended you as much as it would back in the beginning. 

Your mom certainly didn’t mind the company as it inevitably got quite lonely living by herself, but she knew she couldn’t smother you forever as much as she would love to. College was a necessity for you in her eyes, a ticket to a better life that wouldn’t require you to scrub the floors of the rich as she did. 

And maybe it was because you were more mature nowadays, but conversations with her had now also seemed to be much more meaningful. Well that and the two of you didn’t butt heads as much as you used to compared to when you were nothing but a temperamental teenager whose biggest life crisis was whether your crush glanced at you in the hallway or not. 

Of course the boundary and respect of a mother-daughter relationship was always there, some of your jokes sometimes garnering a “I’m not your friend, I’m your mother” speech from her, but nonetheless your relationship with her in a way was very much like a friendship. It seemed as if with every visit you learned new things about her, the different stories she shared with you from her youth always having an underlying lesson that you could apply to your own life.

“I really needed this,” you said while chewing on a mouthful of bulgogi. Small stains of sauce at the corners of your mouth, as your mom’s cooking never failed to make you feel like a little kid. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her now twenty one year old daughter who in her heart was always going to be just a little girl.

She got up from the small wooden dining chair, picking up any leftover dinnerware as she prepared to start washing dishes, all while at the same time listening to you as you babbled on about work.

“I mean really, how hard is it to say thank you,” you rolled your eyes, dramatically sticking your chopstick into your bowl, as you were recalling one of today’s customers who kept snapping their fingers at you as if you were their very own personal servant. 

“Well it’s a good thing it’s summer, you don’t have to worry about college so mu—” The sound of glass shattering on the floor abruptly caught your attention. You looked up at your mom who was now dead silent, her face which was now extremely pale, and her breathing which had suddenly became erratic. What you didn't know was that your mom had suddenly felt as if the world spinning, the feeling of disorientation becoming too overwhelming.

“Mom? Are you okay?” you quickly got up, grabbing your mom by the forearm in a means of trying to redirect her from the kitchen to the couch at an attempt to get her to relax. You unlocked your phone, fingers slightly trembling as you called the ambulance. 

“Just breathe okay. You’re gonna be okay,” you kept trying to reassure your mom as you waited for them to pick up which at the moment felt like an eternity. Your leg was bouncing up and down in anticipation as you kept glancing at your mom who was trying to keep her breathing in control and her eyes open. “Do not close your eyes on me, you hear me?” your voice began to feel shaky, eyelids brimming with tears, the pulsating feeling of panic flowing through your veins.

“Hello, what’s your emergency?”

You hated hospitals. Who didn’t? The smell, the yellow-toned ugly lighting, and the feeling of anxiousness the whole place gave people. For you though, the hospital was a reminder of tragedy, a reminder that whatever comes in here never walks out the same whether you’re a patient or not. Fifteen years ago, it made your mom a widow left having to pay remaining hospital bills all while having to raise her six year old daughter.

So here you were now, fifteen years later sitting at her bedside waiting for her to wake up, stuck in the same position she once was. You stared up at the ceiling counting each time the overhead lights flickered as you tried not to get so lost into your thoughts. Everything had happened in what felt like was the blink of an eye, guilt was beginning to seep in. Why hadn’t noticed anything earlier? Maybe in some miraculous way you could’ve prevented this, you thought to yourself. 

You turned on the small TV that the hospital provided in every room, flipping through several channels hoping you'd find something that would be able to distract you.

“Shut up and kis—” K-drama. Next.

“Watch ou—” Action movie. Next.

“Kim Taehyung gets physical with paparazzi, the heir to Kim Enterprises spotted —” but before you could place your full attention to the entertainment newscast you turned your attention to your mother who was now beginning to shift in her sleep, her eyes now slowly opening, clearly in a daze as to where she was and how she got there.

“Hey ma,” you softly whispered, giving her a warm smile as you held her hand tighter, beginning to rub small circles on her palm.

“W-what happened Y/N?” 

“You fain-”

“Ah you’re finally up,” you turned towards the door, seeing who you assumed was the doctor in charge now walking in. 

For a doctor she appeared quite young, her petite figure and wrinkle free skin a defining factor in her appearance. You formally greeted her, a wave of anxiousness now overcoming you. “Dr. Whitney Han'' is what her name tag read, but it was what was in small font beneath her name that made your heart feel as if it feel down to the pit of your stomach. “Oncologist,” meaning doctors who specialize in the study and treatment for cancer.

Faintly clearing her throat, “Hello, I’m Dr. Han,” she introduced herself, reaching her hand out for you to shake. She smiled at your mom who was still in a slightly groggy state, but aware nonetheless. “So Ms. Y/L/N, you seemed to have suffered from what we call a syncope, meaning an episode of passing out, it’s usually caused by insufficient blood flow to the brain, a result of hypotension,” you nodded following along with what she was saying,

“When episodes such as these occur, it tends to mean that there’s an underlying cause and so we decided to run some tests on your mother to cross out any possibilities, and well there’s never an easy way to tell anybody this...” her gaze lowered for just a slight moment until she quickly regained her composure, but it was just enough for you to just know. She continued with what you assumed she’s told hundred’s if not thousand’s of patients in her career. For her it’d be just another day of work, but for you it felt as if the world stopped.

Whatever she had said after couldn’t be heard because the only thing you could hear was the sound of your blood pounding in your ears, and an intense beating against your chest. You could see her mouth moving, but nothing seemed to be coming out, everything suddenly becoming a ringing noise to your ears. 

Fight or flight is what they call it. When a stressful situation triggers you to either run or stay, and at this moment you just wanted to run, but you knew you couldn’t. You knew that at this exact moment, everything was going to change because whether you liked it or not, the carousel never stops turning. 

You slowly glanced at your mom who seemed to be in the same paralyzed state as you, her face stoic of any possible emotion. 

“With treatment chances of survival are of course immensely improved, the treatments are harsh, but taking your mom’s age and clean medical history I think she can definitely handle it,” Dr. Han tried to give you a small smile, but even she knew situations like these were always tough. No matter how many years of experience she had, the countless tragedies and rare miracles she’d witnessed in her career, every case was different. Her job as a doctor was to make people like you and your mother feel more comfortable with their situation, but never make any promises. 

“Now treatments are done in intervals, and will probably have to be done starting from now until about three to six months which is when we usually see improvement, meaning you will have to permanently stay here for that time. From what I’ve seen with past patients is that treatment can be very costly  without insurance, and well I know a lot of physicians don’t like to talk about expenses with patients, but—”

“My mom doesn’t have health insurance. I know,” you harshly broke the deafening silence, interrupting her before she could continue, not wanting to hear anymore of her pity. You had no reason to give her attitude, no reason to direct your anger towards her, it wasn’t like she caused any of this to happen, but you just couldn’t help it. The atmosphere in the air was stiff, any next word out of her mouth and you’d probably go ballistic. “C-can we just have a moment alone? So we could just um process everything,” you stammered, lacking to make any eye contact with her. 

“I’ll be right outside in the hallway, let me know if you have any questions,” she gave you and your mom one last tiny sad smile before making her way out.

Once the door closed, you thought that you’d be able to breathe properly again, but the same heavy feeling on your chest remained. It wasn’t until you felt a grab at your hand that you were brought back to reality.

“Hey we are going to be just fine Y/N,” your mom whispered to you as it was now she who was rubbing your hand in an effort to comfort you. A weak smile appearing on your face, of course your mom would be comforting you despite it being her who's sick. “Come on lay down with me,” she then began to scoot to the side in her already tiny hospital bed, trying to make space for you.

And for a small everlasting moment you felt like a little girl again as you hugged your mom, tears silently falling from the corner of your eyes, the soft sound of her humming comforting you. You let your head relax onto her shoulder, your breathing somehow finally under control. The question of “What are we going to do?” slowly disappearing from your mind, letting yourself drift off to sleep in the arms of your mom.

Sunday Morning.

In the following days after, you had helped your mom move her necessities into the hospital room that she’d be staying in until her treatment was over and she could be discharged. You had contacted your landlord informing him that you’d be cancelling your lease as you now had plans to move back home. The only reason you had your own small apartment in the first place was because your mom thought it’d be better to live near campus and not waste so much money on gas going from campus to your job and then back to your moms place. Despite her protests on the cancellation of your lease, you had done it anyway.

“Ma someone has to live there, or else it’d just be useless to continue paying rent. We can’t just leave it empty for the whole year, someone could break in or even try to live there for the while that you’re not there. I mean imagine walking in on some strang—”

“Exactly, which is why I don’t want you living there, and move the decoration a little more to your right,” she says while making a motion with her hand as a way to guide you. For the past hour you had been putting up flimsy removable decorations all across the beige hospital walls at an attempt to make her room look less depressing than it already was. 

“I already told you, I’ll be just fine. I already asked Yuna to help me get my stuff, and you’re acting like everyone in the neighborhood doesn’t know who I am, and it’s a lot faster to get here from home. I just need to start looking for a second job in the meant—”

“Ah about that,” your moms sudden interruption causing you to stop what you were doing , now tilting your head in confusion, “I called Mr. Choi and told him about me no longer being able to work for the meantime that I'm here and well that’s when he mentioned something about going on vacation, and needing a temporary assistant… and that he needed someone to run some business like errands for him and well I may have mentioned you and that you’re majoring in business and how you’d love to work for him…” she tried zooming through the last part but you had heard it all.

“Wait what!”

Mr. Choi was your mom’s boss, having been his housekeeper for as long as you could remember. Endless long nights of making sure whatever multimillion dollar penthouse he or his other snobby friends owned looked squeaky clean, just to be paid like any other minimum-wage worker minus the tip.

You could still vividly remember the nights when you were younger being babysat by your neighbor, anxiously waiting for your mom's knock on the door signifying that she was back home, and just how exhausted she’d look as she took off her housekeeping shoes, too tired to even look at the pile of sealed letters on the sturdy coffee table. A constant reminder that she was going to be working for that man for a very long time. 

For a long time you had wondered how she was able to do it all. Were there nights where she felt like just giving up and simply letting everything she’d work so hard for to collapse? 

Your mind flashing back to the night before you moved out for college. It was about 3 in the morning and anxiety had been keeping you up the whole night, the fear of moving somewhere you were unfamiliar with creeping into your mind. The sound of muffled tears coming from the living room snapping you back into reality. Slowly you had gotten up from bed, opening your door wide enough to leave a crack that you could visibly see through, desperately trying to avoid having the door loudly creak. 

And so there she was with a wax stick candle in her hand, quietly whispering to herself a small recital, the sound of several wailed “thank you’s” coming out of her mouth, grateful that she had made it this far. The old framed picture of your dad on the coffee table making it hard for you to fight back your own tears. 

Nights where she was sure your landlord would knock at any moment to kick you guys out because the rent was going to be late, nights where she’d silently cry herself to sleep because it killed her to say no to something you desperately wanted from the store, and nights where she merely missed the love of her life. Doubting herself as to whether she was doing a good job in raising you, simply wishing she could have someone give her some reassurance. And having to hide those feelings because she didn’t want her daughter to find out that the person she had once given a “Happy Mother’s Day to the Strongest Mommy in the World” card with a colorful doodle of herself in a cape was in fact not strong at all, but acted like she was because she simply loved her daughter too much. 

And so that night instead of going back to sleep, you slowly made your way into the living room, silently enveloping her in a hug, no words having to be spoken. Promising yourself that you were going to work hard in college, and get each other out of the small cramped apartment to which you guys called home. Life of course had different plans, which brings you back to one of the causes of your stress and worries: Mr. Choi. 

Oh how you despised that man. One would think a rich man like him would’ve offered by now to pay for all of your mom’s expenses considering the years of servitude, but no. He only fed into the stereotype you already had of the rich, the only people they cared for were themselves.

“So you’re basically telling me I have to quit my job by tonight, and do something I have absolutely no experience with?”

“Yes! You need to start getting all the experience you can get in the world of business, and him being on vacation is perfect. Less stress, and I assume it’ll be better pay than that restaurant you’re working in.” Oh how you hated how naive your mom could be sometimes, it always led to Choi taking advantage of her and her kindness.

“Mr. Choi lives—”

“In the city which is not at all far from here, the only reason you work at that lousy restaurant is because it’s near campus, yes or yes?”

“And when school starts?”

“Mr. Choi should be back by then and he can find someone new to replace you,” you dramatically groaned, the fact that she had reasonable answers to your questions bugged you. 

“But-”

“But nothing! You’re a hard worker Y/N, who knows you may even meet someone who could change your life around in that area. You’re young, about to be a college graduate, you need to start printing out resumes and Mr. Choi is a big name in the indust—”

“I get it, I get it,” you said chuckling at your mom’s enthusiasm, “and who's going to keep you company then?”

“Ah well the nurse was telling me last night about the events they throw here every week for people like me who are staying here for a while and trust me I’ll be just fine,” she winked at you which raised a laugh out of you. Who knew your mom could be so… social. “Just try and visit hmm... at least once a week.”

“Once?”

“I’m telling you Y/N, we will be just fine. Stop acting like I’m dying anytime soon.” she said, “now what do you say? It’s just until the end of summer.” You began to consider your options, money was definitely the weighing factor here.

Sighing once you had made your decision, “When do I start?”, a giant grin now appearing on her face. 

Sunday Night

“Well that’s the last of it,” you sighed in relief as you finally were able to close the trunk of your car after several minutes of struggling to compress your things in order for everything to fit in your small car and not make any double trips back. 

“Finally! You know for someone who claims they need to save money, you sure do like spending it on such small useless things,” your best friend, Yuna, complained.

“Oh because you were so much help,” you huffed, she had no right to complain considering all she did was loudly munch on her chips, watching the pitiful sight of you nearly fighting your trunk after several failed attempts of it not closing. She raised her hand in defense. 

You and Yuna had met in the 8th grade after the two of you were assigned as partners for your geometry class, casual conversation about latest idol debuts and fashion trends had blossomed a beautiful friendship. For a while you thought that college was going to cause the two of you to grow apart, but in fact you two became even closer. It had become a friendship where you didn’t need to see each other everyday, nor talk about absolutely everything all in one moment. Everything was always at its own pace between you two, the boundaries having been silently set.

You had told Yuna of your situation and rather than try to get you to cry about your feelings and awkwardly comfort you, she instead agreed to help you move out, letting her actions speaking louder than words. Of course Yuna’s definition of help differed from yours. but it was the thought that counted. She knew that when you were ready you’d talk to her about everything. 

“Well apartment D2 you’ve been... “ you paused, recalling the amount of times you’ve nearly burned something, now scratching your neck,  “...decent to me, but it’s time for a new chapter,” you whispered to yourself, anxious for the weeks to come. 

The drive home like almost all of them had the two of you singing to both current and childhood songs without a care in the world even though you two weren’t exactly what people would consider “good” singers. Occasional voice cracks seeping through the bass of the speakers, garnering a laugh from the two of you. 

By the time you got home and finished unpacking, you were not only exhausted but extremely hungry.

“I’m gonna go get us take out,” Yuna announced, getting up from the couch and grabbing your car keys from the rack, almost as if she read your mind. 

And so while she went to get that, you laid on your small childhood bed, staring at the ceiling. You laughed at the multiple glow in the dark stickers you had crookedly placed onto it several years ago, and cringe at the posters of second generation idols you had sloppily posted up on your walls when you were fifteen, now unaware that you were subconsciously grinning. 

It surprised you that your mom for the most part hadn’t moved anything around from your room, for the most part it looked almost exactly as how you left it years ago. The same old baby blue duvet covered your metal twin-sized bed frame, decorated with grey fluffy throw pillows which at the time you thought made you a professional interior designer. Your fingers grazed over the framed pictures you had on your small desk (minus the ones you took to college) of past memories including a photo of your dad piggy back carrying a five year old you who had the biggest smile on her face. A small reminder of what life once was. 

You could feel your eyes getting watery as you continued to stare at the photo, and so you quickly snapped yourself out of it, deciding that you already had enough emotional turmoil on your plate. Instead you plopped back onto bed, unlocked your phone and began to scroll through Twitter occasionally laughing at some memes.

A certain retweet had caught your eye causing you to let out a scoff, “Kim Taehyung NASTY fight with girlfriend Sunhi. Click here for more.” The Kim family were almost insufferable, their names practically plastered everywhere across Korea. Especially Mr. Kim’s son Taehyung who somehow always managed to get his name across the headlines whether it be on TV, magazines, or social media.

“Famous for being a brat,” you muttered to yourself, but ironically before you could click on the link you had heard the door open and close, resulting in you locking your phone and immediately getting up from bed, your stomach desperately ready to stop growling. 

“Im baaaack!” Yuna dramatically squealed, placing the foam takeout containers on your small kitchen table. The scent of the warm food making your mouth water. “I know it’s chilly right now, but the stars are out tonight, so I say we go eat at the top,” she then gave you the puppy dog eyes.

“You don’t need to make such… disturbing...faces for me to agree, you do know that right?” you teased, trying to hide your smirk. 

“Fuck you,” she responded to you while playfully hitting your shoulder.

Despite it being summer, when you had walked outside you immediately felt the crispy cold weather, but it was something you and Yuna had grown accustomed to. The countless number of late nights climbing up your metal ladder to get to the rooftop and watching the small tiny stars had made you two somewhat immune to the nightly cold. Your mom sometimes would even climb up herself to bring hot cocoa, rightfully worried that the two of you would freeze yourselves to death. 

You see your apartment, like the rest of your complex, wasn’t in the greatest condition. The infrastructure of it mostly relying on a mix of cement and brick, rust engulfing most things along with metal bars on each complex’s windows in order to prevent break ins. Crime was not something uncommon in your area, but something that you were used to hearing about as you got older. 

What made the whole situation more ironic was that the rich were separated by a simple six way motorway, acting almost as a bridge between two completely different worlds with their skyscrapers and condos looking down upon you guys. It was only at night when the stars were out and you looked up at the navy blue sky that you felt like for a small moment none of it mattered. The warm milky glow of the moon never failing to soothe you, reminding you that even in the dark there was light. Reminding you that even now which felt as if was one of the darkest hours in your life, there was going to be light. At least that’s what you hoped. 

“This view just never gets old,” you whispered, amazed at the moonlight’s reflection, the speckle of stars only adding to its beauty. Your eyes had once again become watery, a sudden state of reflection washing over you, but you quickly composed yourself before Yuna could notice. 

“What time do you even go in tomorrow?” Yuna asked, her eyes still primarily focused on the view above. 

“Well their flight is at 1PM so my mom told me I should get there by at least 11AM so he can explain everything to me, show me around, and all that other stuff.”

“I don’t see why you have an attitude about it, you’re acting like it’s the worst job in the world!” she scolded you. 

“I know I know, I’ve heard it all already,” you rolled your eyes recalling your mom's lecture and that she expected your attitude to be fixed come Monday morning.

“Well you gotta do what you gotta do,” Yuna mumbled while shrugging her shoulders and continuing to eat her food. 

“You can say that again.... ” you acknowledged her remark, secretly scared for tomorrow, silently hoping that all went well, “and I thought I was a slob,” you snorted, watching how sloppily Yuna was slurping her noodles. She raised her hand, smacking you on the shoulder. 

“Hey, watch—” 

Monday Morning.

“Where you’re going, you asshole!” you shouted over your window, your irritation fixated at the man who cut you off without signaling. God how you hated driving in the city. All the one way signs, the assholes who called themselves drivers, and the narrow streets which were hard to maneuver in. It all caused unnecessary stress, but here you were nonetheless. 

“Turn right in 1.2 miles,” you let out a snide scoff as you entered the parking lot, there was nothing but car of the year models ranging from Mercedes Benz’s, BMW’s, Range Rover’s, and more. All making your car look worse than it already did. 

Making your way into the lobby, you were in complete utter awe of the place. From the giant diamond chandelier hanging from above to the sparkly interior design which screamed Hollywood glam. The ivory colored double staircase reminded you of Titanic, the color scheme of the whole place was overwhelmingly beautiful. You could only imagine what Mr. Choi’s condo could look like as you made your way to the front desk. 

Ding. 

To your surprise a boy, a very handsome one to say the least, appeared from what you assumed was his office. He looked no older than you, his hair dyed a crimson-red color giving him a youthful appearance accompanied with a face that had both sharp and soft features. Before you could ponder on why such a good looking person was working and not living at a place like this, your thoughts were interrupted. 

“Hello, welcome to The Oaks condos, how can I help you?” he asked, sounding eerily similar to a robot. It reminded you of yourself at your old job, something you certainly would not miss.

“Um I’m Mr. Choi’s new assistant,” you looked for his name tag which coincidentally he didn’t have on, but you could immediately see his shoulders relax once he had heard the words “new assistant”. 

“Ah yes! You’re Ms. Y/L/N’s daughter right? Y/N right?” you nodded in agreement, a smile now appearing on his face, causing the corner of your lips to turn upward. Wow was this guy handsome, you only hoped that the heat you felt on your cheeks wasn’t visible to the eye. 

“Your mom called me to give me a heads up. I’m Hoseok, I’m what you can consider the receptionist around here,” he said, reaching his hand out for you to shake. 

Hoseok. The name sounded so familiar, you could’ve sworn you'd heard your mom mention the name a couple times. 

A light bulb then went off in your head, as you remembered the countless number of times she had tried setting you up on a date with him, but wow did she fail to mention that Hoseok had the literal face of a GQ model. 

An awkward cough brought you back to reality as you had realized that Hoseok’s hand had been stuck out for quite some time, you were now certain that your face must’ve resembled a ripe tomato. You quickly returned the handshake, internally scolding yourself for making yourself look like an idiot. Here you were, a grown woman, acting like a teenager again. 

“So um, you seem um ... pretty young to be working here?” 

“I could ask you the same thing,” he teased, “I replaced my aunt after she retired and the owner of this place trusted her to teach me well, and well I guess I’ve been doing a pretty good job if I’m still employed,” he explained, playfully winking at you, confirming that he knew the effect he had on people. You stood there in silence, deciding that it was just best to say nothing, look pretty, and nod. Thus causing him throw his head back and laugh, making small claps with his hands. With the way you were acting, you couldn’t blame him. He must’ve thought you were some kind of walking circus act. 

“You’ll get used to it, you know...” you now had a look a look of confusion on your face which only made him laugh harder, but before you could ask him any questions, he changed the topic. 

“Well I assume your mom gave you Mr. Choi’s key pass, correct?” you shyly nodded no in response. “Ah I see, let’s go ahead and get that set up for you then,” you watched him as he began to type some things onto the computer in front of him. Compared to how fast his fingers were moving across the keyboard, he made you like a complete newb on the keyboard. The boy was clearly now in his own zone. 

“First name, Y/N?” 

“Yes.” 

“Last name, Y/L/N?” 

“Yes.” 

“You see where that X mark is on your left?” he pointed at the microscopic mark on the floor to which you followed, “Okay now look at where that pretty gold flower is on the wall, and say cheese!” Before you could even properly prepare yourself you heard the sound of the shutter go off, immediately causing Hoseok to begin cracking up. 

He turned the desktop computer to face towards you, showing the horrendous picture the camera took of you. One eye had come out mid-blink, your mouth slightly agape from fixing your hair in the moment. “Hey that’s not—!” Before you could start complaining, Hoseok had quickly interrupted. 

“Don’t worry, don’t worry! It’s only for the program’s database which only Rachel and I see? Ain’t that right Rachel?” Rachel? Who the hell was that? 

Glancing around to see who this Rachel person was, you were surprised to see a very old woman seated behind the front desk seemingly caring less about what he had said, a permanent scowl on her face along with a small groan coming out of her mouth as a response. “That’s my girl,” Hoseok jested, “Now you,” he dramatically pointed at you, “come back over here.” 

You muttered a quiet “Whatever,” peeved by his little antics. Maybe it was because Rachel was old but you could slowly see why she had that look on her face.  

“Place your index finger on the small machine when it lights up,” he pointed to the small biometric scanning machine, similar to the ones used at the DMV. Following the simple instructions you allowed the machine to scan your finger, assuming it was going to be used for something important around here. 

All you could do was observe him as he finished typing who knows what. You observed how his eyebrows quirked as he continued to type, a satisfied smile gracing his lips once he was done. 

Too caught up in his appearance, the sudden tug at your hand had caught you by surprise, yanking you from where you were standing. “I’ll be back Rachel! I’m going to show little Ms. Y/N here around,” Rachel as before. only grunted in response. 

“So here of course we have the lobby, this is where all the..” he glanced around making sure no one was around before whispering, “snobby folks come in and out of every day. Them and their visitors of course, so hopefully you don’t have to interact with any of them.”

“I don’t think all of this will be neces—” before you could continue he pulled your hand again now guiding you towards another area. You glanced at the time on your phone, hoping this so called tour wasn’t going to take too long. 

“Right here is the entrance to the patio and pool area, which is what you’ll use your fingerprint for as well as entering Mr. Choi’s condo and any other amenities we have around here,” he reached into his pocket pulling out a laminated card, “but if for any reason our system’s down then this right here should do the trick for amenities only, you’ll have to come up to the front desk if the finger pad in the elevator isn’t working. For precautionary reasons of course,” he explained, most of it pretty self explanatory, except the elevator part but you assumed he’d get to that soon.  

“So the entrance to every apartment is through the elevator which is right there on your left,” You followed him as he began to walk towards it, placing his finger on the elevator’s finger scanning pad, “The stairs are really only here for decoration considering no one uses them, I mean unless of course you want to climb up 7 flights of stairs everyday,” You quickly nodded your head no, “Only resident’s and employee fingerprints allow the elevator to open but,” the two of you stepped into the elevator, “the fingerpad inside the elevator only allows certain people to access certain floors. Since Mr. Choi’s going to be out on vacation with his vacation, you are currently the only person with access to his floor,” you raised your finger, slightly confused. 

“Don’t you technically—” 

“I do, but let’s say I were to enter a resident’s condo without their explicit permission, they’d immediately be notified through their phone as I’m also under strict contract.” Your mouth made an “O” shape, impressed by how everything was ran around here. Another question then popped up in your mind as he clicked the elevator’s 7th button. 

“Well what if there’s more than one person in the elevator? What then?” 

“Ah good question! Since you don’t know any of the residents here yet, I suggest you always try to go into the elevator by yourself, and if the situation arises where you feel uncomfortable or paranoid about who's in the elevator with you then just go back down to the lobby of course and wait it out, but we’ve never had any cases of break ins or anything like that. Especially not in an area like this. Things around here are ran very smoothly,” he shrugged, “I mean around here the burglars don’t wear black ski mask and carry scary weapons. In fact the real criminals live on these same floors,” he deadpanned, slightly catching you by surprise. 

1.

“I know what you’re probably thinking, who the hell makes an elevator an entrance to their home? I thought the same thing when I first started, but for some reason they see it as some kind of luxury feature around here...”

2. 

“Mm it’s expected if I’m being honest,” you chuckled, slowly finding the confidence to make small talk with Hoseok without getting so flustered. A pregnant silence had made it’s way into the elevator. 

3.

“I’m sorry about your mom by the way...” though he had said it out the blue, you could feel the sincerity behind his words. All you could do was give him a small smile of acknowledgment, feeling as if it was too early to feel someone’s pity. “She talks about you a lot...” he said, causing you to smile. 

4. 

“My Y/N is going to one of the top schools in all of Korea! My Y/N is going to become a successful businesswoman! My Y/N is so pretty Hobi, a boy like you should take her out some time!” he mimicked your mom’s voice, now causing you to genuinely laugh. 

5. 

“That definitely sounds like her,” you giggled, your cheeks now becoming a tinging shade of pink at the mention of her trying to playing matchmaker. 

“You should’ve seen her face when I told her I was gay,” your eyes immediately felt as if they had bulged out of your eye sockets, your face now completely red at his previous words. He on the other hand was now laughing as hard as ever, his hand clutching onto his stomach from laughing so hard. 

6. 

“I told you you’d get used to me,” he said in-between laughs, tears now welting out of his eyes from his laughing fit. Things definitely started to make sense, especially now that you were inconveniently remembering how your mom had completely stopped mentioning Hoseok in any romantic way to you. You covered your face with your hands in embarrassment because here you were already fantasizing about the dude. 

“You're also probably wondering why I’m working at a place like this, that’s what most people ask me when they visit round here, but...”

7. 

“I’ll have to answer your questions some other time Ms. Y/N because well here we are! I’ll have your parking pass ready by the time leave but for now just place your finger on the scanner and off you go,” you followed his instructions, opening the doors of the elevator, stepping out, and waving a small goodbye watching him return the wave as the doors slowly closed. In all honesty you were genuinely happy at the fact that you had made a friend around here even though you were still slightly embarrassed about the moment that had played out only minutes ago. 

But before you could dwell on it any longer, you heard a voice call out your name, “Ah Y/N, good you’re here right on time!” You formally greeted who you presumed was Mrs. Choi, slightly surprised at the fact that she even knew your name. 

“You don’t have to be so formal. Muah. Muah,” she pulled you in for a hug and giving you a kiss on each cheek like the French do. “I’m so sorry to hear about your mother, tell her I send my condolences.” You returned her fake smile, not expecting yourself to despise her this early on. Oh were you glad she wasn’t going to be around.

Mrs. Choi in a way reminded you of Regina George’s mom despite not having any kids. Needles and plastic were definitely her best friends, and her attempt to try and act younger than her actual age was quite cringe to watch. 

Soon after greeting each other, two pomeranians began to circle around you barking. You bent down trying to pet them, but you guess they picked up the snob’s attitude because all they did was continue barking and one even tried to bite you. 

“If it isn’t Y/N, I feel like I haven’t seen you in years!” you snapped your attention to the man himself, Mr. Choi, who was coming down his stairs with a thick black luggage case in his hand. The last time you saw him was around 9 years ago when he had lived on the other side of the city. Your mom had to take you to work with her that day because your neighbor was unavailable to watch after you and you were still too young to be home alone.

Mr. Choi had definitely changed in appearance, his once full head of black hair was now clearly balding, he had gained some weight, and overall looked like a man who had long been worn out. You couldn’t help but think that this vacation was probably needed, especially with a wife like his.  

“I’ll wait for you in the car my love. It was nice seeing you Y/N, I’ll see you in a couple of weeks!” she squealed, waving goodbye as she stepped into the elevator, the dogs following right behind her.

You could hear Mr. Choi sigh, probably already mentally preparing himself for the next 10 weeks. So this is what a pretentious marriage looks like, you thought to yourself. You theorized that Mr. Choi must’ve only married her for her looks and she for his money, and well no wonder there were no kids in the picture. It’d be the ultimate death of both of them. You actually felt pity for the man, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have a choice in marrying her.

You brought your attention back to Mr. Choi who must have been rambling on for some time now, “My most recent assistant just quit on me for no reason,” a genuine puzzled look on his face, “something about me being too overwhelming for her, as if I'm supposed to know what that means,” he scoffed. “So when your mom mentioned you well I knew I could trust her!”

Your mom truly never failed at mentioning you to whoever and whenever she possibly could, it was both a blessing and a curse. 

“So… what exactly am I going to be in charge of?” You blurted out, the question had been lingering in your mind since the night prior.

“Good question, I’d show you around, but time is on the essence. I basically just need you to organize my office, file paperwork, organize Amelia’s closet, go run errands for me, pick up documents, but most importantly I’m going to need you to attend certain events in place for me, but of course just introduce yourself as my assistant, apologize as to why I couldn’t be there, and most importantly keep your eyes and ears open. In my world we like to keep… tabs… on one another,” your eyebrow quirked in curiosity, “and since I won’t have any signal I expect to have a report ready for me when I come back so I’m caught up with everything of course,” he grabbed something from the coffee table, “I made a planner for you with everything that needs to be done on a day to day basis,” he then proceeded in handing you the bulk gray planner, “It includes passwords, data sheets, and all that good stuff.” 

You were amazed at how his demeanor had changed from clumsy-like to serious businessman in the blink of an eye. It was actually quite intimidating.

“Finances need to be kept in check, investors need to be accommodated, and well I just want to come back to everything being normal,” he began to gather the remainder of his stuff, “also your money is going to be wired to your bank account on a weekly basis and well that’s really it. I’ll see you in 10 weeks Ms. L/N! Good luck!”

“Good luck..” you quietly repeated his final parting words back to yourself, watching as the elevator doors closed. You could see why his last assistant quit, you didn’t even know where to start. You took a deep breath deciding to make your way up to his office, your day was just getting started.

The condo may have looked like it came out of a show from HGTV, but Mr. Choi’s office looked like it came out of an episode of Hoarders Buried Alive. There were scattered papers everywhere, his desk was practically hidden by all the stacks of papers. Food wrappers and aluminum soda cans thrown around like the slob he was, the stench making you want to throw up. 

“Oh my God…” you said to yourself, this man was just a mess. 

You skimmed through some of the papers all of them having to do with different things ranging from firm performance, finances, legal forms, and much more. You could already feel a headache coming, but at the end of the day this was your job. You grabbed some storage boxes and began to label them with a black marker.

Your plan was to separate the papers into two sections: Important and Unimportant. Once you finished separating, you’d then shred what you deemed unimportant, and further organize what was important by date and then transfer them to his filing cabinets. It would take time, but it was the only method you could possibly think of. Your goal was to stop by 3 and then start working on Mrs. Choi’s closet.

You put on your earphones and began to play some music so that you wouldn’t be so stressed while organizing everything.

“Breakfast at Tiffany’s and bottles of bubbles…” you hummed to yourself and before you knew it, it was already 3. You had thrown out all of the trash in his office, and for the majority part most of his papers were organized. 

You sighed, now to get started with her damn closet.

Mrs. Choi’s closet was its own giant room, marble shelves stacked with bags and shoes, racks full of clothes, jewelry sparkling under their display showcase. The sparkling glass chandelier on the ceiling adding an extra oomph to the room. 

Hermes. Gucci. Chanel. Versace. Burberry. Balmain. Louis Vuitton. Saint Laurent. Fendi.

Any brand you could think of was in this closet, it was unbelievable. The closet had to be worth several thousands, no millions. So many questions were running through your head. How could someone just have so much? What do you even do with this amount of clothes? You were truly left speechless.

Shaking your head, you began to pick up all the clothes on the floor deciding that it was best to organize everything by color, your day almost done.

By the time your alarm went off it was already six which is the time that Mr. Choi had said you could leave, and it wasn’t like he was paying you extra for staying any longer and doing more work. For the most part, you had finished with both the office and closet and were just ready to go home, jump into bed, and watch some Netflix.

You went down the elevator,  satisfied at your first day on the job. This was going to be easy, you thought to yourself.

Just as you were leaving the lobby you heard Hoseok, “Hey I had your parking permit printed out!”  You stopped dead in your tracks, turned around and walked towards his desk. It wouldn’t hurt to make a little bit of conversation, right?

“Ah I had forgotten about that, thanks,” you chuckled.

“It’s no problem! The parking officer loves giving tickets.… so how was your first day?”

“Um not bad actually, a little boring to be honest,” you pondered at his question, for the most part you were being truthful, “Tomorrow I’m supposed to go and get Mr. Choi’s Mercedes Benz checked out, and then from there go and pick up some paperwork from some legal firm, transfer it onto his computer.”

“Well at least he’s not around to be over your shoulder, he practically had his last assistant going nuts,” he responded, laughing at the memory.

“Well I’ll see you tomorrow,” you yawned, giving him a small wave goodbye.

“Hey well let me know if you ever need anything, and I’m being serious,” and to that you nodded, taking note of what he said.

Monday Afternoon.

[Incoming Facetime from: Ma 💞💗💓💕]

Immediately you clicked “accept”, having just gotten home and tidying up a couple things around the apartment. 

“So how was your first day?” your mom immediately questions you, clearly eager to know. 

“It was pretty decent ma, nothing I can’t handle,” you chuckled, “but wow was that man’s office practically a pig pen,” you complained only causing your mom to start laughing. 

“Oh I know,” she comments, only causing you to roll your eyes. 

“I think these 10 weeks should go by quite smoothly if I say so myself,” you sounded genuinely optimistic, “I met Hoseok you know,” your embarrassment had long subsided, instead finding it hilarious.

“Ah my Hobi!” your mom sounding delighted at the mention of the young boy, “a hard worker that boy is I'm telling you.” 

“He seems like it,” you had long concluded that he was when he had been explaining everything about the residency to you. He seemed like one of those people who even though they disliked their job, still put in their absolute everything into making sure they were the best at it. “You shoud’ve seen me giving him the googly eyes earlier,” you joked around. 

“Hobi is—” 

“Gay, yeah I know. I had to find that out the hard way,” you covered your face with your hands, playfully sulking. 

“Why do you think I stopped trying to set the two of you up,” your mom laughed. 

“Mm really ma? I would’ve never guessed,” sarcasm dripping from your words. 

“Hey remember who you’re sp—” 

“Anywayssss, how are you holding up out there?” you took a sip from the cup of juice you had served yourself earlier, your mom’s dismissive expression returning back to a smile. 

“Well the food around here is horrible! I told my nurse that they should let me in the kitchen for a change, but all she did was laugh!” You grinned at the idea of your mom actually working at the cafeteria for the sake of it. 

"Ah well I’lll make sure to bring you something on Wednesday.” 

“Did anything arrive in the mail today about the invoice for everything?” your mom asked, a look of worry now on her face. 

“No ma, and don’t even worry about anything like that okay? Focus on your treatment, and you let me handle the rest alright?” your voice now becoming stern, leave it to your mom to start worrying about finances. 

“I know, I know, but I know some fees were coming up and well—” 

“And I’m telling you to leave it to me, okay?” 

“Ah okay then, well I'm going to sleep already,” she yawned, “they’ve been prodding needles in me all day,” she tried to say it as lighthearted as she could, but she quickly regretted it as she saw the sudden sad look on your face. 

“Goodnight ma, I’ll see you Wednesday alright?” 

“Okay then Y/N, I love you.” 

“I love you too,” and with a small pressured smile, you clicked “end call”. An immediate sigh coming from your lips as you glanced at the several unsealed envelopes on your coffee table, many of the scattered papers stamped with a red “PAST DUE”. 

School, rent, the water bill, the light bill, the gas bill, your phone bill, the old hospital bills, the new ones, all due in such small amounts of time with almost no room in-between dates to rest. 

And so that night you laid in bed staring at your ceiling for what felt like hours unable to go to sleep. The only thing on your mind was how you were going to get the funds to pay for everything because well if you didn’t then you’d be left in hospital debt with an eviction notice right at your door and a whole bunch of other problems that you didn’t want to think about.

Deciding that it was best to get a breath of fresh air, you made your way to the rooftop, watching as the scattered stars glimmered in the sky. You sorta wished that life could be like those childhood TV shows where a shooting star would pass by and make your wish all come true, but the fact was, is that your life isn’t a movie or a tv show. This was your reality, and you were just going to have to suck it up.   

You unlocked your phone and texted the only person you possibly could.

[To: Yuna 🤍]

[10:09] you up??

You tapped your foot, waited for her to reply.

[From: Yuna 🤍]

[10:10] i'm offended that that’s even a question tbh

[you]

[10:11] you think you can come over? pleaseeee 🥺

[10:12] ik it’s late and you’re probably tired and work tmrw but i just rlly need some company rn

[From: Yuna 🤍]

[10:13] i’ll be there in 10, don’t judge how i look

[you]

[10:14] when have i ever…

Soon enough you heard a knock on your door.

“I brought your favorite snacks,” Yuna had a giant grin plastered on her face to which you couldn’t help but smile at. Her makeup-free face and bright Hello Kitty pajamas told you that she was probably in bed when you texted her. 

Once she slid off her shoes, she was quick to make herself feel at home by jumping onto your couch. Hell, this was basically her second home.

“Do you work tomorrow?” you asked her.

“I called off, I’ve already accumulated a lot of hours anyway and well I might as well start putting them to use,” she stated, as she munched on a freshly opened bag of barbeque chips. 

Yuna was a retail clerk at the local mall, attending fashion school at night in hopes of landing herself a future internship, but like you was currently on summer vacation. Even in middle school, becoming a world renowned fashion designer had always been her dream, having gone to the the principal’s office a countless number of times because she added some kind of tailor to the plain old school uniform whether it be bedazzles or embellishing some kind of bizarre pattern onto it. 

Yuna though was sadly a case of a prodigy without the resources, accepted to one of Seoul’s top fashion schools when the two of you had graduated high school. You were there the day she opened her letter of acceptance, the two of you along with her family celebrating by going to one of Seoul’s most expensive restaurants. But just as you were there the day she was accepted, you were also her shoulder to cry on the day she realized that the money she had saved up wouldn’t even cover a quarter of tuition costs, and her applications for scholarships had all fallen through. 

What you admired most about Yuna was that disappointment didn't stop her from trying. Her designs were truly one of a kind, and you weren’t even saying that because she was your best friend and had a bias towards her. You could only hope that one day she’d be recognized for her talents. 

You grabbed your blanket from your room and sat next to her on the couch. She stared at you while you flicked through different channels on the TV, sensing that something was wrong. 

You could practically feel her burning a hole through your head and so you decided to answer the question you knew was looming in her head, “I’m not okay,” you mumbled, letting out a sardonic laugh. “I’m trying to act like I am, but I'm just not,” you stared off into the TV not wanting to make eye contact with her, “it’s just not fair,” you whispered, confused with yourself as to whether you were sad or angry.

Yuna could feel her heart wrench as she listened.

“My mom’s been nothing but a kind person, I’ve been nothing but a kind person, and so I can’t help but ask why? What did we do to end up in a situation like this?” you hadn’t even realized that tears were falling from your eyes until you felt the salty drops of water make their way onto your lips, dripping from your chin, “The whole time I was in Mr. Choi’s condo looking around at the million dollar paintings, and organizing his wife’s thousand dollar outfits I kept thinking to myself how can a man like Mr. Choi just not care? He didn’t even bother to ask how she was...” you seethed, the emptiness in your voice had now become anger.

Yuna scoffed, “The rich are always looking down on us like we’re just nothing but money makers to them, demanding their respect like they deserve it for free.”

“I just,” you paused for a second, “I just don’t know what to do, I think I might have to start looking for a second job or something, or maybe even take a gap year...” you breathed out, running a hand through your hair in distress. 

And maybe one could call it fate with what you and Yuna had seen on your TV that night. Destiny perhaps. Whatever it was, it was going to open the doors to a brand new world. A world that you had only ever caught small glimpses of.

“Kim Taehyung is officially Seoul’s most eligible bachelor, our sources have confirmed that he and on and off again girlfriend Sunhi have called it quits permanently this time. The reason you may ask? Rumor has it that she was caught cheating on him,” the entertainment reporter had a giant grin on her face, “That’s right ladies, the heir to Kim Enterprises is back on the market.”

Pictures which you assumed were recent showed Taehyung partying, drinking, flashing expensive cars, and at red carpet events for major fashion brands. “Tweet us using hasht—” you changed the channel on the TV, bored of the topic at hand.

“I swear he’s the only person they talk about nowadays, I mean literally he’s everywhere!” you chuckled, turning your attention to Yuna who for some odd reason now had a look of disbelief on her face.

“Y/N… how did I— no how did we not think of this earlier?” Yuna got up from the couch like an excited toddler causing you to tilt your head to the side in honest confusion. 

“What the hell are you talking about now,” you said, laughing at how childish she looked. She was now pacing herself back and forth across your living room, her adrenaline practically visible.

“You know I don’t normally believe in this stuff but holy shit this has got to be a sign!” At this point you were convinced she was talking to herself considering she wasn’t even making direct eye contact when she said that. She frantically ran her hands through her hair, “I mean you have the quote on quote resources, the clothes, my fashion expertise, the car, the events, and he’s single now. Oh my God how did we not think of this,” you carefully listened to what she said trying to piece everything together. Resources? Clothes? Was she talking about Kim Taehyung?

Your eyes immediately widened when you put two and two together and realized what she was so excited about, and it was now your turn to get up from the couch.

“You’re literally insane you understand that right!?” you stared at her, completely baffled. You thought stopping her from pacing around would bring her back to reality and get that grin off her face, but if anything it did the opposite.

“Y/N! What are the chances that as we’re talking about your finance issues and then something like that comes up! What are the chances that you literally work for a millionaire who's going to be gone for several weeks and expects you to attend his events! You can’t tell me that this isn’t hmm…  I don’t know… Fate!” All you could do was stare at her in disbelief as she began to mumble something about this being something “straight out of a movie”. You were waiting for her to laugh and tell you this was all some kind of joke, but you soon realized she was being serious.

“The fact that you’re actually being serious about this is ridiculous!”

“And the fact that you think it’s ridiculous is what’s really crazy!” you shook your head refusing to accept what she was alluding to.

“Yuna! Let’s be rational he—”

“No, just listen to me Y/N. Please,” you looked at Yuna who had now calmed down, her face completely serious, “I know it seems out of the ballpark…” you nodded in agreement, “You have the opportunity to infiltrate the rich, and not just anyone but the Kim family! You know how many rumors there are about that family and their business!” she shouted while adding extra emphasis on the word infiltrate as if this was some kind of spy movie.

You sighed, “And how exactly would I do that? How could I not get caught up in lies? Why the Kim family? Why not not just steal some of Mr. Choi’s belongings and sell them on Ebay or something? Just what exactly are y—”

“You didn’t let me finish!” you grunted in annoyance. There were just so many questions running through your head, did she not realize the risk in what she was proposing? The consequences?

“You’re a stranger in their world, a brand new person … a brand new identity! You already have to go to these events as it is, and you can’t steal anything from Mr. Choi and sell it because I mean clearly he knows who you are. They, as in the rich, do not,” Yuna knew she had managed to grab your attention based on the look of skepticism on your face, “And technically you’re not going to be stealing Mrs. Choi’s clothes, you’ll be um ... borrowing them.” she flashed a giddy smile, “10 weeks Y/N, 10 weeks to get Kim Taehyung to fall in love with you, blackmail money out of that family, and then poof you disappear without a trace!”

“You have no idea how many questions are running through my head at this very moment.”

“And I think I can give you answers to them all, but please Y/N just think about it! It would solve all of your problems, financially at least,” you jokingly hit her shoulder as she teased you with the last part of her sentence, “you wouldn’t be doing it for yourself, you’d be doing it for your mom.”

“For my mom…” you mumbled to yourself. Yuna stared at your blank expression. She could only assume that you were letting everything sink in before making a decision. On one hand you’d be able to pay for all of your expenses while still getting your job done, but on the other you'd be using someone under a false pretense in order to blackmail money out of them. You’d literally be infiltrating the rich. You were scared. What if you got caught? Would you go to jail? What would happen to your mom?

You had made your decision.

“I trust you Yuna… I really do…” she now had a worrisome look on her face, “and so..” without even realizing it Yuna had been crossing her fingers, “I’m in.”  

“Oh my God,” she let out a sigh of both relief and disbelief, a beaming smile on her face.

“But!” her smile quickly disappeared after hearing your tone, “we need to plan this thoroughly, like a solid proof plan by tonight on pen and paper, you got me?” she nodded in agreement, “and I think there’s someone we need involved in this... “

She tilted her head in confusion.

“Who?”

Tuesday Morning.

“Yuna this is Hoseok, Hoseok this is Yuna,” the two shook hands giving one another a warm smile.

Yuna began eyeing you in a way of saying “Are you sure about this?”. You understood why she was skeptical of Yuna whether or not she’d agree to everything, hell you had your own doubts. What if Hoseok said no? Worse, what if he completely snitched you out? Then you’d be stuck with no job, no money, and probably blacklisted from all major companies in Seoul by Mr. Choi himself with the label “thief” over your head. You had to reassure yourself that everything would be just fine, “So what brings you guys here?”

“Well I was hoping I could talk to you um…” you glanced around, “somewhere private,” you whispered giving him a shy smile, “maybe up in Mr. Choi’s condo,” you offered remembering that Rachel could possibly be hearing (though you highly doubted she’d care).  

“Oh um… sure, let me just tell Rachel to cover for me,” he awkwardly dismissed himself to the back.

“I don’t know Y/N … he seems like the type of person to not want to risk his job..” Yuna whispered to you, she was clearly on high alert.

“He told me I could ask him for anything, and well I know I’ve only known her for about 24 hours, but I don’t know… something about him just seems reliable, I can't explain it. It’s just better to have him on our team than to be suspicious of us. I can’t do this whole infiltration thing being paranoid that the receptionist is going to snitch on me when he sees me walk out with clothes worth thousands of dollars,” you replied, “And if this really is playing out as a movie like you say, then we need someone whose tech savvy.” 

“You have a point,” she chuckled, “wait how do you know he’s good at computers again?” 

Your mind flashed back to the night before, while Yuna was asleep you had gone full stalker mode on Hoseok to get to the bottom of who he was. After hours of looking through different social media platforms you had ended up finding both his Twitter and Instagram @/junghsk, where he had pictures of his college graduation from 2 years ago. Major? Computer Science. It explained why he looked like he was in some Matrix movie the other day, and though of course it didn't mean automatically he was an expert, he definitely must’ve been better than both you and Yuna combined when it came to programming which is something (based on your plan) you were going to need for future endeavors. 

You also came to find out that he was an avid animal lover, taught cardio dance classes on morning weekends, likes to live tweet show series such as Games of Thrones, and is in a committed relationship with someone named Min Yoongi. What could you say? You liked to do intensive research. 

Once Hoseok returned the three of you went up to Mr. Choi’s condo, the elevator ride up was definitely awkward compared to the day before. 

Yuna was in clear awe of the place. You could tell she wanted to give herself a personal tour, but you shot her a look dismissing the idea as she could easily do that later.

“We should sit,” you suggested pointing to the kitchen’s island, "Yuna can make us all some instant ramen,” she immediately shot you a look of annoyance, but didn’t argue with you making her way to the pantry.  

“So...” he quietly mumbled at an attempt to break the ice, making small tapping noises on the island’s surface with his fingers. 

Flashing him a pretentious smile, you awkwardly glanced around trying to think of something to make small talk with, “Um do you like Games of Thrones?” 

Immediately he grinned, you expected a “yes” to come out of his mouth but instead he said, “Ah so that was you yesterday!” 

The color drained out of your face , wait what? He began to laugh, making small claps as he threw his head back, “You were stalking me,” his face scrunched up as he began to tease you. 

“What are you talking about?” your tone becoming defensive along with your eyebrows furrowing, only causing his fits of laughter to become louder. His index finger wiping the tears that began to form in his eyes. 

“Don’t act like you didn't like and unlike my picture at like 3 in the morning!” He suddenly pulled out his phone, showing the notification which he hadn’t cleared from his phone, showing your username and the words “liked your photo” following right after. You had forgotten about that... 

It was already 3AM and you were beginning to doze off, eyelids barely even open. You saw the white heart on Instagram appear on a 56 week old picture which you immediately unliked, also causing you to jolt out of your comfortable position in panic. 

Damn you Instagram. “Whatever you need must be pretty important if you’re up at 3AM instastalking me.” 

“Oh shut up—” 

“Well since you were on there, what hair color do you prefer on me: red, brown, or black?” You scowled before muttering a quiet “brown”. “Really I’ve been told red looks best on me, hmm...” he pondered, pressing his index finger onto his bottom lip. "So are you going to tell me what this is all about anytime soon or ...” he said, his tone coming out more demanding than he intended, but Hoseok was the kind of person that didn’t like to beat around the bush, rather preferring to be told things straight up as they were. 

“Okay..” You started, explaining to him of your situation starting from your mom, to the bills you needed to pay, why this job just wasn’t enough, why you needed to go ahead with your plan, why you needed him to be in on everything, and emphasizing that you weren’t doing this for yourself but your mom. By the time you finished explaining, Yuna was already done making the noodles.

Hoseok sat there in silence, you could hear your heart from your chest, your fingers getting slightly sweaty as you thought of the different possible outcomes. The deafening silence had made you feel like you guys were there for hours. Honestly, you could have heard a pin drop. 

It wasn’t until you saw his signature smile beginning to form on his face that you could’ve sworn you felt bricks actually fall off your shoulders.

“Okay let’s do it,” he stated as he began to slurp on his noodles.

“You’re in?” Yuna asked in complete shock, eyes completely widened. He nodded in return clearly enjoying his food, “You don’t have any questions? No concerns?”

Hoseok shrugged, “Mm well of course I’m curious as to what exactly the plan is, which I’m sure you’ll be explaining to me soon, but nope. I’d probably say no if the cause wasn’t for something important,” he looked at you giving a warm compassionate smile, “and this has got to be the most interesting thing that’s happened on this job for the past 2 years so there’s that,” his brows knitting remembering past situations with residents, “and lastly these snobs deserve what’s coming to them,” he finished off causing all three of you to laugh. 

“Well then cheers to mission… ummm... “ Yuna placed her finger on her chin, causing you to facepalm yourself as she was trying to think of a name for something so irrelevant.

“7 Rings,” Hoseok interjected , “like the Ariana Grande song. I want it, I got it!” 

“You like my hair gee thanks just bought it!” you guys simultaneously sang at the top of your lungs, clinking each other’s drinks.

And so that was how mission “7 Rings” came into fruition, but of course like everything else in the world, nothing ever goes as planned. If only you had realized then that things were going to change, whether they were for the better or for the worse… well that was for you to find out on your own.

author’s note 🧚🏻 : SK has universal health care but for the sake of the plot we’re going to have to pretend they have a private healthcare system so please don’t attack me lmao. Also please like & repost as it keeps me motivated to write and update faster !! Thank you in advance if you do 💞

[jawritter]

When The Lights Go Out

Chapter 5

Summary: Life hasn’t been your best friend lately, you lost your job, and are on the verge of losing your apartment. Who knew when you decided to join a Sugar Daddy app that your best friend suggested ina last ditch effort to save your apartment, and not end up on the street, your first and only client would turn your whole world upside down.

Pairing: Mobster!Dean Winchester x Virgin! Reader

Word Count: 2369

Series Warnings: Mob level violence, injured Dean, description of injury, creepy Godfather John Winchester, John is pretty much a douche bag, escort services, virgin reader, lose of virginity and all the insecurities and fun stuff that come with it, age gap (23 year old reader; 40 year old Dean), angst, unrequited/requited love?, language, smut, unprotected smut.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Fighting, Angry Dean (yes that’s a warning), John being the douchebag he is, language, I think that’s everything. 

A/N: Beta’d by @deanwanddamons! Thanks so much love!! Please don’t copy my work!! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one!! It’s gonna be a little bit of a slow burn y’all, but just hang in there!

(This fic is based on this request: Could you do a Dean x reader where she is 23 and lives alone in her apartment, she gets fired and can loose her house, her friend tells her about a sugar daddy app, she makes a profile and Dean 40, contacts her, she is virgin and don’t offers sex, Dean is billionaire business man and needs a girl for his business parties,the reader is really shy, blushes a lot, they fall in love, he takes her to a trip and makes love to her on a private island, could it be a series?)

Want more? Check out my masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***SERIES MASTERLIST***

Two weeks.

That’s how long you’d been in the prison that was the sprawling Winchester Estate. 

Well to you it was a prison anyway, to anyone else standing from an outsider's perspective, you hit the jackpot.

You, on the other hand, didn't feel so lucky.

You felt trapped, and alone. No matter what Dean did to try and make it better, no matter how close you and Jess had become over the last few weeks, it wasn’t home, and that’s the whole reason you joined that whole Sugar Daddy app to begin with. Now you didn’t even have that.

You knew that you had gotten in way too deep when you first met Dean Winchester, but damn if you didn’t know that you had gotten in that damn deep. 

Now, you had lost your only home you’d ever really had, along with what felt like your freedom to live and move like a normal human being. 

Dean had tried. He really had. He felt horrible about what John was making you do, and he and Jess helped you pack up everything in your apartment the day after John’s declaration. That was probably the hardest thing you had ever done. Keep up the happy couple act for Jess, while silently you felt like you were dying, or wishing that you would. 

That’s when you really started to resent Dean Winchester. 

If he would have just left you alone, if he  had never contacted you, if you had never got into his SUV that Friday night, you wouldn’t be in this mess, and better yet, if he would have been man enough to tell you the fucking truth about who the fuck he was, you wouldn’t be in this mess. You would have never agreed to go on that God forsaken “date” with him in the first place. No matter how much money you needed, or how fucking attractive he was. 

The first week that you were here, Dean really tried to spend as much time with you as his “work” would allow. Taking you out to get ice cream, down to the peer to watch the boats, anything and everything he could think of. 

You couldn’t tell if he was just trying to keep up the happy couple act for his family, or if he just felt guilty, and was trying to make it up to you.

That just drove your resentment deeper. 

You were forced to share a bed with him, but mercifully it was large enough that you could throw a pillow between the two of you to use as a wall, keeping him at bay, at least mentally anyway, and still have enough room to sleep comfortably. 

The first night you did that, you could have sworn the most hurt look you had ever seen on a person crossed his face, but he hid it quickly, and now when he got into bed, whenever that was he just turned his back on you, and fell asleep, or passed out, because Dean had taken to drinking a lot. 

Week two started, and you barely spoke to each other inside your shared room. Only on the outside of the room did you even attempt to act like a couple with him, and that’s because you didn’t want to die. 

When the second week started, John had started taking Dean on a lot more “jobs” with him, and usually they were gone late into the night. When Dean finally did stumble back in the door, he recked of whiskey, and stumbled to the bed without so much as a good night, or fuck you, just like you were another piece of expensive furniture that filled the room. 

You didn’t ask Dean about his work.You didn’t ask Dean about much of anything.You found it easier just to ignore each other. 

Tonight was no different. You had spent all day working on the transcript that your new job Dean had got you, just like he promised, had sent you. 

You were thankful for the job. It was a nice distraction from the reality you now found yourself in, even if you knew Dean probably only got it for you to cover his ass. 

Dean had been gone all day with John, which freed you up to move around the house without risk of being caught by John, who you tried to avoid with everything in you.  Something about the man just made your skin crawl. Still today you had work to do, and that’s what you did, from the moment you woke up to the empty bed, Dean on another “job”, to the point where a knock on our door disturbed you from your distraction. 

“Hey woman! You’ve been hauled up in here all damn day! Care if I join you?” Jess asks, coming in without invitation and flopping down at the foot of your bed. 

“Be my guest. Nothing really all that exciting here today though,” you tell her, typing away on the computer in front of you.

“You're still working? You do realize it’s almost seven in the evening right?” she asked, shock clearly evident in her voice. 

Looking up at the clock on the wall, you look back down at your computer with wide, burning eyes. You hadn’t realized that it was that late.You had successfully wasted the whole day staring at this computer. 

“No, I hadn’t realized it was that late.” you mumble, shutting your computer, and shoving it away from you like it might come to life and attack you, earning a smile from Jess.

“Well come on.The men are home, and it’s time for dinner. I haven’t even seen you leave this room today, so I know you probably haven’t eaten. Dean won’t be happy if you get too skinny now will he?” she said with a wink.You forced a chuckle in response, but said nothing in fear that you would blow your cover, and Deans. 

Truth be told, you weren’t sure Dean would even notice you died, much less lost weight. 

Getting up from your perch on the bed, you stretch and follow Jess to the dining room where you could hear the men’s voices filtering in from the hall. Bracing yourself for another acting session, you take a deep breath, and step down into the room.Thankfully, they were all so immersed in conversation that they didn't even see you two walk in. 

Jess took her seat next to Sam, and you next to Dean as the maid came into the room  with the butler that you didn’t even know the name of, and started to plate everyone’s food. That was one thing that you just couldn’t get used to. People waiting on you hand and foot that way.

“Well I’m telling you Sammy, another person in the car is nothing but another liability, and Dad and I can move in and out easier with just the two of us,” Dean said, not even acknowledging you sitting next to him. 

“I agree with Dean. Sam, stay here and watch over the ladies. Dean and I will be in and out quicker if it’s just the two of us.”

Sam throws down his silverware, and Jess leans over to quiet him down before he can make too big of a scene.

“When are the two of you gonna stop treating me like a child? I can handle this job, just me and Dean!”

“Well Sammy, maybe if you weren’t walking around acting like a little bitch every fucking job you were sent on, then Dad would trust you with this.” Dean said, shoving food into his mouth, not bothering to make eye contact with his little brother. 

“Fuck you Dean.You think that since you’ve got a woman now, and the high table is back to kissing your pretty little ass, that you can say and do whatever the fuck..”

“ENOUGH!” John’s voice boomed, and everyone at the table froze. “Sam, you're not going on this job, and that’s final. It’s dangerous, you’re not experienced enough, that’s it, that’s my call, and that’s final.” 

A defining silence fell over the room. Sam sat there brooding at his plate of food, pushing food around with his fork. Jess dared not say anything, but instead busied herself pouring another glass of wine. Dean continued to give you the cold shoulder, and busied himself with his own food. 

John, on the other hand, was watching Dean and yourself with a sickening smirk on his face. 

“So Y/N. My son and I will be leaving early tomorrow to go on a rather dangerous job.This one is one of the biggest deals that we’ve done in a long time, and if it goes south, it might be awhile before you see Dean again, I assume you plan to send him off properly tonight.”

You turned white as the table cloth sitting on the table in front of you, and Dean paused from eating only a moment, before returning to his meal, a little smoother at hiding his shock than you at his father’s boldness. That or he was just used to it. 

You, on the other hand, had to force down the wave of bile that was working its way up your throat at John’s lewdness. 

“I...I...Don’t see how that’s any of your business.” you stutter, still shocked he boldly asked such a question, much less at the dinner table. 

“Oh, it’s plenty my business princess. See what we have to do tomorrow requires a lot of concentration, and I need my boy’s head in the game, and not on what he did not get last night. See sweetheart, it’s your job to take care of my son, and he’s one of my best, so I expect you to never let him leave this house with his balls….” 

“STOP!” Dean yelled, shocking everyone at the table. Throwing his napkin down he shoves his chair back with force, and goes to walk out of the room, stopping only to look over his shoulder and to call you to him, the first time he’d spoken to you directly in three days.

“Y/N, come, now.” 

Whatever raft Dean had planned when you got back up to your room was better than this conversation, so you quickly got up from the table and followed him there without a word, grateful for an excuse to get away from that room, and away from John.

As soon as you got to your room, you quickly thought maybe you were better off downstairs, because as soon as Dean shut the door and locked it behind you, he rounded on you with more fury than you had ever seen in the green eyes that still haunted your every dream.

“What the fuck was that down there? Do you realize you almost got us both fucked down there?!?! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND?! You have the audacity to disrespect my father, at his table, and think he’s not going to make me pay for it?”

Dean backed you to the wall before letting his fist land very close to the side of your face, literally letting you feel the breeze of the blow as he hit the wall with force, pinning you against the wall.

“Dean, how can you say that? You heard what he asked you down there?”

Dean snarled at you, and you cowered back into the wall further.

“He suspects what’s going on between us, or else he wouldn’t ask.You could have played along, but no you had to show your ass. Don’t you get it? He’s dangerous Y/N! One word and he could have you killed, and no one would ever come looking, nothing I could do would stop it!!”

Shoving off the wall and away from you, Dean poured a glass of whiskey in the expensive crystal tumbler that sat on the little table by the door. He took a deep breath to calm himself, before taking it down in one pull. 

When he turned back to you, his eyes were colder than you had ever seen them, and it made your stomach curl sickeningly. 

“How often do I have to apologize to you for this? I know it was my fault. I know I fucked up and pulled you into this mess. I’ve tried to tell you I’m sorry. I’ve tried to show you I’m sorry, everything I’ve done, every job since you got here was to ensure you have a future, to make sure YOU want for nothing!! Night after night, day in and day out, you walk around here mopping, ignoring me, hurting my feelings, disrespect me! This job I’m doing tomorrow is to present you to the high table, to make sure that we can live whatever life there is for us now comfortably, and no one calls a hit out on you!! Do you give a shit? Fuck no!” 

Anger boiled under the surface of your skin like water in a pot, and you had to swallow hard to make your voice work as tears streamed freely down your face. How dare he try and make this all your fault. Like you had disrespected him, when he’d taken everything away from you. 

“I hope your ‘high table’ kills you tomorrow, then maybe I’ll be free of you and your lies.” you spat at him, and he flinches before collecting himself, careful not to let too much show. 

“Oh no baby girl. Because if they kill me, you belong to John Winchester, so you better fucking pray I come back alive.” Dean turns to go into the bathroom connected to your room, undoing his tie with force and throws it across the room.

Turning to face you, his face showed more hurt than he’d let you see before.

“You know, I thought maybe, just maybe I could convince you to feel for me what I’ve felt for you from the moment I saw you. Guess I was wrong.” 

Slamming the door to the bathroom before you could say anything, you stood there with your thoughts reeling. Was he playing with you, or was he telling the truth?

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[vinylhazza]

Can you write a lil thing about confiding in your best friend (either twin) about your abusive relationship and then he helps you leave and shows you real love. I'm in a abusive relationship atm and I wish I had it :(

LEAVE HIM FOR ME (G.D)

warning: mention of physical abuse, trauma, mention of sexual abuse, angst, fluff

*italics are flashbacks/past conversations*

grayson would have been trying for so long to figure out where the bruises were coming from. he stopped at nothing to try and pry the information out of you until he finally started to back up after you got angry at him one evening for not letting it go.

“just let it the fuck go grayson, i fell. i told you that.” or “yeah straightener is a bitch you know? you’re not a girl you wouldn’t understand gray, i’m okay.”

you knew he was trying to help, but feared that giving them the knowledge would only make it worse. your jackass of a boyfriend was dangerous, you knew it even if he didn’t. he could hurt him, and that was the last thing on earth you would ever want - for grayson to be hurt. you would get teary eyes and a flustered blush when he noticed your frown at the mention of the bastards name. it was like a shock to your system. with grayson...everything was different. you weren’t weak. you weren’t some piece of meat that could be abused and used whenever he pleased. you weren’t a derogatory name that seemed to define you.

he kept you safe. he kept you warm when you shivered. he made sure you ate when he notices you haven’t touched a single piece of food all day, takes e time to cook your favorite meal of all. he would care for you, wait on your every hand and foot when you felt ill, make that special soup his ma taught him when he was younger, he knows how much it helps. he braids your hair to help you calm down, and he’s actually very good at it. something about the tenderness and care he gives you when he’s messing with your hair immediately eases your stress, and you don’t know it, but he has a small smile the entire time.

God that man would love the fuck out of you, just waiting in the shadows for you to see that he was right there, waiting to give you all the love that he could give. Grayson’s love language was physical touching, he loved to have his hair played with, back scratches, hugs that last too long, having your legs propped up over his lap as you watch a netflix special. he often watches you close in those moments, running his own fingers through your hair, deep slow massages, and sometimes....he even leaned in for a kiss on your cheek, your forehead, and when he was especially clingy, your neck. you didn’t think anything of, even tried to ignore the fluttering in your stomach - the butterflies swirling around like a tornadoe. and you especially ignore the clenching in your lower region, trying to convince yourself it’s not him in particular but the lack of affectionate touches you never receive from your boyfriend.

deep down, you know your heart tells you different. but you aren’t a cheater and how could you leave? you know he would come after you, after your family, after grayson, even after ethan if he’s as crazy as you thought he was.

the first time he hit you, was the first night he ever yelled at you as well. it had been sudden, out of nowhere, shocking. he was...not right that day. he was irritable, not really speaking to you all that much...just quite frankly being a dick. your love language is physical touch just like graysons, but...not that kind. you had just wanted to hug him, maybe give him a reassuring squeeze to let him know you were there to help him and be there for him through whatever it was he was struggling with. you know how hard it is to be in your own head and have no one to share your pain with.

but his hand slapping into like a tidal wave prevented that from ever happening.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?! can’t you see i want to be left the fuck alone?! are you fucking dumb?! get out!”

you spent the whole night crying, curled up on the couch with a blanket wrapped around you tight, a bag of frozen peas pressed up against your right cheek. in the morning when you woke up with a groan, you stumbled into the bathroom to find a black and blue bruise right along your cheek bone - a hateful looking mark. this...this wasn’t love.

“such a slutty, dumb little bitch. thinking you can wear that out and strut around like a whore? then i’ll treat you like a whore.”

he never apologized and the violence never stopped. the punches became more frequent, and it was getting so hard for you to hide them that you began making excuses: falling, fluke accidents that sometimes made no sense, dropping something, bumping into things. but everytime you made up a lie, it took a piece of you away. a piece of you that you felt would always in some way be connected to him. to his viscous words, actions, and those little moments that kept convincing you to stay.

you stayed for the rare moments he would smile, the times that would remind you of the man you fell for - the one that didn’t exist anymore. you knew you were foolish and anyone with a brain could see right through your stupid lies and excuses, but you simply avoided talking about him. he made you think it’s what you deserved. and after a while you believed it.

you stopped being sexually attracted to him in the very beginning, when the hitting first began...but he...he was a man of selfish desire. take what he wants and be on his way, keep treating you like dirt, keep kicking you while he knew you had no fighting chance. he took advantage of your body, used you like a toy and threw you away. made you think it was a yes even when you screamed no. a hand over your mouth, his tongue down your throat, you didn’t have a choice.

grayson knew it all along. he knew the bastard hit you. he knew the disgusting filth of a man you would go ‘home’ to. he knew it wasn’t your true home. your home was him. your home was grayson. but you had to keep him safe, hence the reason you never admitted to the consistent mental, physical, and sexual abuse. but grayson refused to do nothing, stand by and watch the women he loved suffer all alone, determined to be your knight in shining armor, save you from the villain trying to ruin your beautiful life so full of purpose.

“what am i supposed to do e? he’s hurting her, like really hurting her. the bruise on her neck isn’t a fucking burn it looks like a goddamn hand was choking her to death. what am i supposed to do? tell me what to do.”

Distraught was an understatement when it came to a teary eyed grayson sitting at the foot of his brothers bed. you had left after a movie night, having to lie to your boyfriend and tell him you were at a girlfriends house, you’ve already been beat up for even mentioning graysons name. you would never make that mistake again.

ethan sat straight up against his headboard, pulling at the stubble on his chin, brow furrowed with a concerned, and angry, scowl.

“the asshole thinks he can just get away with hurting her because she sits there and takes it...it’s killing me. God how did she get herself into this mess...i just feel...useless. i’m supposed to protect her e, that’s what you do for the people you love and i fucking fail her over and over again everyone i let her walk out the front door of this house,” grayson grumbled, leaning over the bed with his head in his hands. his shoulders were tensing, something that usually happens when he’s especially stressed or upset about something.

“i’m sure ‘taking it’ isn’t exactly what she’s doing. she’s scared. he’s a big guy gray, a dangerous guy, he can really do damage to her if she tries to fight him back,” ethan mutters, not wanting to make his brother more upset. it didn’t seem to be working, “you know this isn’t her fault and so do i gray. a man like that will stop at nothing to control her every move. it’s an act of dominance, control, he wants to rule every action, every thought, every move she might make. if we do anything, we need to do it fast, and do it in a clever way that won’t get her fucking killed by that psychopath.

“it’s just impossible to sit here and have her flinch when i try to touch her...i would never fucking hurt her. i never have. and i know it’s so hard for her to trust anyone with all of the shit she has to deal with...but God dammit i would move heaven and hell for that girl and i need to save her,” grayson sits up, a noticeable tear streaming down his face. his love was evident in his every word, “i’ll take my time. make her see she deserves better. whatever the fuck she needs to convince her to leave that dumbfuck, i’ll do it. i just need help e, that’s all i’m asking.”

“of course gray, you know i got your back. and i have y/n’s too. we are gonna get her away from that creep and show her what real love is. not that fake disgusting shit he claims it is. doesn’t even know what the fuck it means and he has no business using that word frankly.” ethan’s tone is clipped, sharp, and deep - he would do whatever he could to get away just like grayson would. granted he’s not in love with you, but he doesn’t have love for you, and he would still do anything to protect you, “but be patient with her. a guy like that stops at nothing to tear down a woman until she thinks she deserves what’s coming to her. she accepts the pain because she is trained to live in silence. we need to break that silence and make sure that she knows it’s okay to tell us and we would never put her in danger.”

there is silence for a moment, full of tension, worry, for their friend. graysons worries if he speaks, he might cry. instead he ops for bouncing his knee in a steady rhythm, something you taught him to do when he felt restless. and it helps. but with a deep breath he’s turning back to ethan.

“okay so, how do we do it?” grayson stands, ready to take on whatever it is to get her in his arms safe and sound. even if that means hurting her jackass of a boyfriend. hopefully soon to be ex, he thought.

“well, i think maybe tricking her into a little intervention is the only way to go about it. or maybe one of us can convince her to spill the beans. it might be too much on her if we both start hounding her with questions she’s scared to answer. i’m sure some of them are very personal. we can’t freak her out, she’s already so fragile.” grayson knew he was right. he needs to proceed with caution. maybe if he could convince her he’s who she belongs with...confesses to his desires and wishes maybe she would have the strength to leave. if that’s even what she wanted. if not it would ruin their friendship and she would still be in a bad situation.

“true...if we go to their apartment fists up and ready to fight, it will probably make it worse and fall back on her. she’s doesn’t need any more problems than she already has. i mean hell, she’s even scared to sleep anymore,” grayson ponders. he remembers the nights she would stay over when her boyfriend was away gallivanting with whatever floosy he could find. cheating abusive bastard that he was. then it dawned on him.

“what if, and hear me out, what if we just move her out and have her live with us? i mean the guy doesn’t know where we live and fuck it i’ll get security if i have to. we’ve been needing it for a while anyway. she would be safe, protected, and with her closest friends who wouldn’t let a damn thing happen to her,” grayson tried to explain himself, gauging ethans reaction to see if he had a disapproving face.

to his surprise, he didn’t. in fact, it was like a lightbulb clicked inside of his head. with a clap of his hands he’s standing.

“that’s actually a great idea. i don’t know when he leaves or whatever the dumbfuck does but when he does we can go over there and get all of her stuff out and move her in here. we just have to make sure we know when he leaves, when he comes back, and most importantly if she will even say yes.”

it was three days after when you finally stopped by. the bruises on the left side of your neck and cheekbone fading away. graysons heart broke every time he saw the purplish hue on your face. he would kill him if he could. he would do whatever it took to keep you safe. he just had to do it like a civilized human being. he knew that at least if you’re on his property and your stupid bitch if a boyfriend came by...well let’s just say he wouldn’t be so forgiving.

he pulled you into the backyard with the sun just sinking under the horizon. he wondered how you managed to sneak away without a scratch, but hopefully it would be the last time you had to.

“i need to talk to you about something,” grayson started, pulling at your hand to bring you further into the backyard, standing in the grass just beside the pool. he was nervous, palms sweating already. this was a big moment, and it could change everything for them.

“is it about the last piece of banana bread? cause i ate that like a week ago and if you just now noticed maybe you don’t really love it like you claim you-“ you started, teasing him with a smile. always the jokester. he wondered how you found the strength the smile. but he cut you off before you could finish. his frown had your smile wilting.

“i know he’s hitting you. don’t try and hide it either like you always do. you always try and cover up his abuse and his fucking disgusting behavior. and i understand you’re scared, y/n. but this ends now. i don’t care what i have to do to make you see you deserve better but this...this isn’t it. you have so much to give and deserve someone that would burn the whole fucking world down to keep you safe. so stop pretending and tell me the truth.” there it was. that face he was dreading. the face of absolute terror.

he knew. he fucking knew.

you thought you had been good at hiding it from him, from everyone really. even your mother loved your boyfriend. she often said he was “good for you” that she was happy you found him when you did because “he’s the only one that’s really ever gotten you under control”. you haven’t talked to her in months, to say the least.

grayson recieves a chest rattling silence. something he wasn’t expecting from a girl that was known for word vomit and stuttering all over herself trying to get a thought out fast enough before it slipped away. but you stared at him with wide, misty eyes. you were scared - frozen in his backyard. you couldn’t believe he had come right out and called you on your bullshit. but you knew it was coming, you tried your hardest to hide it, but grayson wasn’t stupid.

with a slow shake of your head, you swallow the tears threatening to escape your eyes. you won’t be weak in front of grayson. you spent so much time being weak because of him, but no, not in front of grayson. he deserved better than someone that couldn’t even escape a white boy she fell for after a run in at the movie theater. he deserves someone that can fight for herself.

“so you know. you and ethan i’m assuming?”

a nod with more silence. he is watching you, not exactly staring, but certainly focused on watching you try and hold yourself together. you know ethan is somewhere close by, watching this go down from his own little hide out. you’re half tempted to yell out to the house and tell him to get the hell out there and face you, but then you know you’d have to confess the truth in front of not one, but two of the most important people in your life.

“...what then? you want me to sit here and cry? you want me to break down and talk to you about all the times i’ve come over here and lied? pretending everything was okay and putting a smile on my face? because believe it or not this is my safe place and i’d rather not think of him. you make me forget. i just wanted to forget and i know that hurts you that i didn’t say anything but i don’t know what i’m supposed to do right now gray...” your voice is thick with emotion, hands coming up to twist at the flowy tank top resting on your torso. it suddently became very chilly in the backyard that felt previously warm in the suns dying moments until morning.

“i’m not letting this go. not like all those times before. i had my suspicions, had those little clues that would pop out when i reached to tuck your hair out of your face, or help you with the laundry you still do even when you don’t have to. you would jump, y/n...from me. and i would never,” he swallows, you can feel all the strength it’s taking him not to show you just how much he wants to cry, “i would never, hurt you. there isn’t a bone in my body that would ever touch you in any way other than love and adoration. i know it’s because of him. he’s - he’s fucking sick, y/n. he’s twisted and made it almost impossible for you to live a normal life. you snuck over here didn’t you? it’s nearly 8.” you know he won’t let it go until you answer, so you give him another small nod, biting at your bottom lip and flinching at the tear that drops down onto your cheek. it would wash away that pathetic layer of concealer you put on, exposing more of the purplish bruise he left there.

“where is he? let me guess - he said he was going to “tanners” right?” his voice remains calm, with just a hint of a grit there to show how truly disgusted he was by the man that abused you time and time again.

another nod and small sniffle.

you felt like a child getting caught by your parents for sneaking out.

you and grayson both knew there was no tanner. there was and never would be. it was just another girl he decided to fuck around with before coming back to control you, make you feel like the disloyal one. make you feel like the monster.

“and what happens when he comes back and you’re not there huh? what happens if he comes back early and wants you to text him a picture of where you are? actually fuck that have you even thought that maybe the psychopath put a tracker on your phone? ...why are you back away? hey hey come here it’s okay i’m not mad at you,” grayson is trailing off into an apology when he notices the distance beginning to grow between your two bodies. he was near yelling at the end of his little speech and you’ve learned enough to know what yelling means. of course he said he wouldn’t hurt you, but that’s exactly what he said in the beginning too. and look where you are now.

before you can back away from his touch any further, he’s tugging you into a hug, cradling the back of your head against his chest. his heart beat was steady, the calm thumping easing your own nerves. he never held you like this. grayson wasn’t him. it was unfair to be afraid of everyone because someone tried to stifle your fire. with your body tucked into his arms, grayson rocks side to side on the bottom of his shoes, eyes closed and chin resting on the top of your head. you liked to be held when you’re upset and overwhelmed and he knew it. it helped ground you.

he’s pulling away too soon, swiping a hand through his hair in frustration. you know it’s hard for grayson to express his emotions sometimes. giving him the same patience he gives you is the least you could do. you stand quietly in front of the tall block of muscle, arms crossed once again - a comfort mechanism you’ve taken up over the past few months - and wait for him to sort his thoughts out and try again.

“i didn’t mean to yell but dammit, y/n. i mean it when i say you can trust me. i know he’s ruined so many things but this - us - isn’t going to be one of them. he doesn’t get the satisfaction of pushing us apart. you -“ a huff “you’re too...special to let go. and it’s his own fault he can’t see it.” from the dead serious look in his hazel eyes, you know he means every word.

you wouldn’t say grayson is entirely closed off, especially when he’s always touching you in secret, tender ways when no one else is looking. he tells you secrets he’s scared to tell anyone else. he’s not a secret. he’s just in some way...scared just like you.

“gray i don’t know what to tell you...it’s not as easy as you’re making it seem. and yeah he has ways of tracking me i’m sure, but i can’t just go without you you idiot. that would kill me. it would fucking break me and i hate that you’re making me admit it.” he frowns at the break in your voice.

“leave him,” graysons voice is soft, but more serious than you’ve ever heard it. so deep rooted with...something you can’t quite catch...that it makes you shiver.

“gray...”

it’s not that simple. you can’t leave a man that has his grip on you too tight. you can’t just leave a man that has made it his goal to make sure it never happens. you can’t just leave because you wish to be with the love of your life...you can’t just...want love when you’re trapped with no hope of escape. especially when that very same person whose love you yearn for is promising it to you, unknowing of the sure consequence.

he doesn’t give you a chance to turn him down, say anything more that will certainly be a way to weasel yourself out of this. he knows you’re in denial, denial of what there is blossoming between you, the bod consuming desire to always be touching whenever you are together - whether it be a pinky hooked around another, an arm over your shoulder, an arm around his waist, fingers massaging at your scalp. whatever it was, it was real.

“might i make a suggestion gray?” ethan frowns, biting at the skin of his bottom lip, now raw with his anxious assault.

“whatever it is make it good because i’m not changing my mind,” grayson grunted, slicing his bananas at a quicker pace. he’d have to build up strength for this conversation, lord knows it’s going to tire him out. you’re a tough one to crack. another reason that he fucking loved you so much.

“tell her how you feel before it’s too late. i’m sure you’ll be pleased with the outcome.”

how could he be so sure?

fire twists in your tummy as grayson inches towards you, eyes narrowed right at your own misty orbs. with irises blown out and black, he tucks that cussed piece of hair behind your ear. with his fingers feathering across the skin of your cheekbone, another tear drops to your cheek. it streaks a hot river across the skin, chipping away that milky concealer, a mask to hide the evil. the way he gazed at you like you were and always would be the most beautiful treasure, only made you confirm to yourself that it was torture to love someone you were scared to have.

“i know you feel this...don’t fight it...just let me show you how good this can feel...how it’s supposed to feel” his voice had switched from one of raw emotion to one of earnest and...need.

within an instant he is grabbing your face and pulling you close by the back of your neck, a hand digging deeply into your mane of hair. he made a fist to secure you to him, afraid if he let go you might disappear. another hand was pressed against your cheek - being careful to not apply direct pressure to your bruise, instead rubbing it tenderly with his thumb. his touch not only eased the pain, but the memories that matched themselves to it. soft plump lips landed on yours perfectly with a hum resonating in his chest. it was a pathetic, needy sound - one that made you aware that he really meant it. he’s been waiting for this. to have your lips smashed up against his. it was like an itch he’s been waiting to scratch, now relieved. he takes his time to let himself feel his way through the kiss - initially feeling your shocked lips at a stand still.

he almost backs away in defeat, but then... you’re sighing, a satisfied, eager sigh tossed between the two of you. biting at his bottom lip felt like a burst of unashamed power coursing through your veins. your tiny nimble fingers are tugging at his white cotton t-shirt and pulling him even closer if possible, goose flesh tracking from your shoulders down to your fingertips. youve kissed let that be known, a guy here or there, but none of those kisses had ever felt like this. before registering how much trouble you would get in if he ever found out what you were doing and how good it felt doing it, you are tilting your head to the side and moving your lips against his greedily. humming into his mouth and pushing your front against his flat. fuck his kiss felt so good. his lips were patient and languid, lapping like smooth waves of the ocean. persistent.

his hands made sure to move your face just the right way, get just the right angle, sure he could feel you turning weak at the knees already. not anything like any other kiss you’ve been given. it’s patient, tender, purposeful - that purpose being to convey just how much you mean to him and always will mean. the way he’s kissing you is a desperate move to tell you how he feels without having to say it just yet. this is everything you’ve ever wanted but never knew you could have, or feel, or want.

his tongue is slipping into your mouth when you gasp in shock at the electric fire burning through your senses and into every nerve in your body. your hands feel tiny on his massive biceps, but he loves the feeling of your thumbs rubbing at his skin while he kisses you so deep. your tongues danced together, the kiss stealing your breath away. it was fierce and passionate, everything you thought kissing him would be like. you had daydreamed about this moment forever, and you couldn’t believe it was finally happening. especially not like this. not when you’re a damsel in distress, waving your pathetic hand at the top of the tower in hopes your knight in shining armor would come and save you. the day had finally come.

he’s pulling away slowly, begrudgingly, panting from working his mouth so hard against yours. wanting to take it farther than a kiss, but understanding enough to know it would take a lot more time to be at that poin - no matter how bad you both wanted it. your trauma lurked beneath the surface, a fight for another day. he poured everything into that kiss. the rosy red color of his skin being a testament to that. he hoped you knew just how much it meant to him. from the way you stared at his mouth in a trance, he knew it meant just as much to you. the look of wanting in your eyes made him shiver.

“you want me?”

the best you give him is a puffed out “yes” between your lips, staring at his own longingly. it was a pathetic sound, a cringe fighting to shrink in your shoulders and hide yourself from him, but you accepted it as it came. you wanted more. you thought for a split second that you couldn’t imagine never feeling that again. electric. strong. like fireworks igniting in your body over and over. your eyes travel slowly from his mouth to his soft wishful eyes, feeling the sudden urge to cry again.

“leave him for me,” his whisper is pained, vulnerable and aching for you to want him back. need him back. love him back.

“but i can’t have you, you know i can’t. he won’t allow me to leave him.” God it killed you to even say it. You wanted to throw caution to the wind, and in a way you had, but to throw it all out would mean putting him in the line of fire - and you didn’t know if you could bare seeing him burnt.

“yes you can, you can have me. every hour of everyday. you can fucking have me. you have always had me, y/n. i think you know that. i can’t lie anymore. not when it means this much to me. he won’t keep you a prisoner. i refuse for it to happen. i know you want this as much as i do. i feel it. i’ve always felt it. if you don’t leave for you, then leave for me. just...you have to let me protect you.”

the way he says it, just holding you in place, forehead resting against yours in an attempt to stop the tears bubbling behind his eyes. it killed him to see you caged like an animal when you wanted so badly to be free. he would do whatever the fuck he needed to do and he swore his life on it. whether you believed it or not.

“but how? he’s a psycho grayson the man beat me for getting gas without telling him. i was gone for 5 minutes.“

“i know sh, i know it sounds crazy and reckless,”

“really reckless,” you tutted, popping your lips out in a dissatisfied pout. it was cute but he needed to focus.

“- just hear me out. me and ethan have a plan that involves no contact, and if he does show up i don’t think you are underestimating the lengths we will go to, to make sure he doesn’t lay a finger on this beautiful body of yours. he doesn’t get to have you anymore, he abused that privilege, literally. he didn’t appreciate and cherish what he had so now it’s over. you won’t ever have to see him again. but it’s gonna take a little cooperation and for you to be that sneaky little detective i know that you are.” he waits for your reaction, confused that your eyes are still closed, your thumbs still rubbing at his forearms. it was peaceful. for the first time, you felt protected. and really understood. important. valued. loved. whole fuck you felt loved.

“i don’t know how much help i can be,” you choked, voice a lot weaker than you wanted it to sound. truth is, it was taking every bone in your body not to kiss him again, get that fire ignited again. but you had to focus. one battle at a time. beat the dragon, then you get the prince.

“how about this, you and i, we go back in the house, i’ll sit you down on the counter - yeah that’s right the counter - because i don’t give a fuck if ethan thinks it’s unsanitary. i’m gonna cook you you’re favorite meal, kiss those beautiful lips for as long as i want,” he pauses to dip his head down, pecking your lips slowly as an example, a butterfly flew through your core, wings licking at the buzzing nerves, “and explain every tiny detail until you understand just how serious we are about getting you away from that sick creep. i may be persistent but my brother is a determined mother fucker too and he cares about you, y/n. as much as he loves to tease you and throw his little tantrums when you eat the last piece of pizza - he cares so much. and he wants you to be safe. to be with us. be with me...if that’s what you want.”

“as in like...live with you? are you sure that’s a good idea? i mean i kind of have a crazy guy on my back you sure you guys want that baggage?” you’re tone is lighthearted and witty, but he knows that’s just you trying to hide how nervous you were.

“you know, when you love someone, their baggage becomes your baggage. you have that weight together and find the strength to carry it along the way. at least that’s what i’ve found out.”

when you love someone

when you love someone

when he loves someone

when grayson loves...

he loves you

“you love me?” the gleam in your eye is too obvious to miss, the excitement of a child, the joy of a rich man, the satisfaction of a sinner, the bliss of a saint.

“maybe a little,” he grins, lips dropping onto random areas of your face, making their way slowly down, down, down to your blush pink lips. the feeling of them puckering had him pulling you closer again.

“is it too much to ask that you say it again? just for good measure.” your request has him chuckling in your ear, hair tickling you when he bobs his head in a nod.

“i love you,” he sighs, finger hooked under your jaw to tilt your head to the side, sealing his lips down onto yours again. breathing in the sweet scent of your perfume. it drowned his every sense.

it felt so fucking good to say that.

it sounded like your favorite melody. and somehow, as cheesy as it sounded, it gave you strength. gave you that extra power you needed to know that this life did have a purpose beyond pain and misery. it had people like grayson. people like ethan. people that cared about you. people that protected you. people that were ready to do anything they had to do just to make sure you knew how loved you really were.

“i love you too.” it slipped out without you knowing. your hand itched to slap over your mouth, cover up the ultimate betrayal against the monster somewhere off in LA cheating on you again, planning his next attack against you. but no, you wouldn’t feel guilty about loving him. not when it’s the strongest emotion you’ve ever felt. not when it was the truth. and not when he’s cradling you in his arms promising a future beyond the pain and sadness you’ve been stuck in for so long. so for good measure, and just because it felt like a breath of fresh air, you say it again, “i love you.”

“oh fuck,” he breathes through a disbelieving grin, picking you up by the back of your thighs and spinning you around in circles. your legs hooked around his waist tightly, squealing laughter echoing throughout the backyard. this is the freest you’ve felt in so so long. he slows down to a sway once again, turning your head to kiss you slowly, pushing his tongue between your lips to dance with yours again.

“slow down, slow down, we still have something to do yeknow,” you breathe, a lazy smile aimed at his own delighted eyes. he looked so free and it shocked out for some reason that you were the cause of that look.

“no no you’re right i’m sorry, i’m just happy. feels good when you know the girl you love is safe for once. but i guess we do have to go talk to ethan about the insufferable douchebag you chose to date for whatever ungodly reason. must have had a magical dick or something cause the man is lacking in all other categories,” grayson mocks, setting you back into the flats on your feet and imtertwining your fingers together, leading you back toward the house where you presume ethan is waiting somewhere close by.

“actually no, he never really uh...finished the job in that department. was kind of selfish. but i managed,” you tut, rubbing your thumb over the skin on his hand, loving the feeling of him against you in any way you could get. you knew you were so touch starved, but didn’t care if it felt this good.

he stopped at the sliding glass door, face dully lit by the yellow of the light from the kitchen, pointing a defined eyebrow at you in a displeased scowl, the fucker didn’t even make you cum? with a shake of his head he’s sliding the glass door open, ready to talk to his brother and start the plan for your escape. hes ready to see you thrive again. he knows neither he, nor ethan will rest until you have shaken every form of contact with the spineless monster you’re controlled by daily. this plan will be his religion until it is completed. he turns his head to look at you, a smirk on his delicious soft lips, licking at them quickly.

“we will be changing that, make no mistake.”

[gallavictorious]

Fic: This Time (We’ll Be Fine)

Ian's bipolar was always bound to make itself known again sooner or later, so Lip's not exactly shocked when Mickey swings by to break the news. Well, he's a little surprised at first, when he opens the door to find his brother-in-law and not, say, any of his siblings or Kev waiting outside. While Mickey's joined Ian in helping out with the renovations a few times, him dropping by out of the blue and all by his lonesome is still a bit of an occasion.

”Hey,” Lip says, pulling off his work glows. He's spent the last hour removing the old counter tops from the kitchen, hoping to get it done before Tami returns with Freddie from a visit to her parents.

”Hey.” There's an awkward pause, but before Lip can ask what's up, Mickey plows on: ”So, Ian's been a little off for a few days, and we're pretty sure it's early signs of a manic episode.”

Something about the way he says it has Lip momentarily flashing back to the day many years ago, when Mickey and his brothers had confronted him about Ian allegedly messing with Mandy. He almost braces himself, because while he's been over that whole thing for years and years, his body still remembers the pain.

Then the actual words sink in and ah, fuck. It not being a surprise doesn't mean it doesn't hit like a punch to the gut.

With the worry comes a pinch of guilt: the house he rented is actually liveable now and he and Tami moved into it a month or so ago, but there's still a lot of work to be done and Lip's been spending every waking hour not devoted to his job or Freddie trying to get it fixed. It hasn't left him a lot of time for checking in with the rest of his familly.

”Is he okay?” he asks.

”Yeah. Well, no, he's a fucking mess, but he will be, you know. Fine. Upped his downers and booked an appointment down at the clinic on Monday, so they'll sort this shit out, get his pills adjusted or whatever. He's in bed now, sleeping it off.” Mickey lets out a sigh, distractedly reaching for a pack of cigarettes in his pocket. Lip doesn't protest when he lights up, even though he knows that Tami will say something snide about the smell when she comes home.

Let her; man looks like he can use a smoke. Lip wouldn't mind one himself, but bites back the urge to ask.

”Anyway,” Mickey continues, ”I just wanted to let you guys know, and, uh, I was thinking that maybe you'd come by someday next week. For dinner or whatever?”

Lip blinks. Sure, they ate together all the time when they were all staying at the Gallagher house, and they've shared a few meals since Lip moved his little family across the alley, so having dinner in and of itself isn't really weird – but getting an official invitation to one, and from Mickey of all people? Yeah, that's new.

His surprise must show, because Mickey makes a face. ”Yeah, I know,” he mutters. ”It's just... He hates it, you know? He's got it under control and he'll be fine but it's...  he hates it. He'll be fucking dejected and shit for weeks, even after the new meds kick in. And you guys always cheer him up, so I figured... ” He shrugs, not finishing the sentence.

It occurs to Lip that maybe it isn't easy for Mickey to come here and ask for this – to ask Lip for anything. There was a time when Lip thought Ian an absolute idiot for falling for Mickey Milkovich, and he's pretty sure Mickey knows as much, because Lip sure as hell didn't try to keep it a secret. But that was a long time ago, and as far as Lip's concerned, they've been good for years now. He's not sure if Mickey knows that, though, or feels the same way; they've never really talked about it.

So yeah, maybe it's not easy for Mickey to come here. He does it anyway; for Ian, he always will.

Lip loves him a little for that.

”Yeah, yeah, sure, man,” he says quickly, realizing that he's been silent for too long, lost in thought, and that Mickey is looking at him with something quite close to barely concealed anxiety. ”Of course we'll come.”

Mickey's shoulders drop just a fraction of an inch at that. He givs a curt nod. ”Okay. It'll probably take a few days before his, I don't know, levels are adjusted or whatever. But maybe you can keep your evenings open and I'll call you? And don't let him know I talked to you, right?” he adds, giving Lip a decidedly threatening look. ”He fucking hates it when people make a fuss.”

”Yeah, no, I know. I won't say anything. Thanks for letting me know.”

Mickey nods again, tossing his cigarette butt to the ground. Lip makes a mental note to pick it up before Tami gets back.

As Mickey makes to take off, Lip calls out, on an impulse: ”Hey, Mick.”

Mickey stops. ”What?”

”You ever hesitate?” Off Mickey's blank stare, he adds: ”Getting back together. Dealing with this for the rest of your life. You know how crazy it can get.” Knows it only all too well; Mickey had been there when Ian first fell ill and in spite of doing as well, and way better, than could possibly have been expected of him, it had not ended very well for Mickey.

That shit's gotta hurt. Looking at Mickey now, Lip thinks he can see the strain lurking under his mostly calm demeanor. See the fear, maybe.

And still Mickey glares at Lip like he's an idiot. ”Fuck no, I didn't hesitate,” he says, sounding affronted. ”It's just a fucking disease, man. We'll deal. Think I'm gonna ditch him because he has a few off days every now and then? Who the fuck doesn't have off days?”

It's more than a few off days every now and then, and they both know that – but Lip knows, too, that to Mickey, to some degree, it really is that simple. It's a disease. It's serious and it sucks, but it's not the sum total of Ian; it doesn't define him. And sure, Lip knows this on an intellectual level, as does the rest of his siblings, but he thinks that maybe Mickey is the only one who truly, fully gets it on an emotional one.

With that in mind, Lip meets Mickey's glare, unflinching. ”Still. It can get pretty rough. I guess what I'm saying is... if you, like, ever needed to talk or just, you know, take a break and hang out, I'm here.” He might not always have been great about Mickey, or great about being there for people in general, but he's been doing a lot better with the latter lately and maybe he can use whatever supportive skills he picked up at AA to do better at the former, too.

He's half convinced that Mickey will roll his eyes and walk off with an insult thrown over his shoulder, and he's fully convinced that Mickey's actually considering just that before opting to just nod again. ”Yeah,” he mutters. ”Thanks.”

”You're welcome.” Lip pauses, hesitating. But fuck it: ”I'm glad, you know. That he has you?”

And apparently that pushes the conversation too far into sentimentality because now Mickey does roll his eyes, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. ”Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll call you.”

He walks off. Lips pick up the cigarette butt and heads inside.

---

The call comes on Thursday morning, and a little past five in the afternoon Lip carries Freddie through the kitchen door with Tami in tow.

Liam's doing homework by the table and Mickey is stood by the stove, staring down an enormous pot of boiling water.

”Hey,” he says, sounding for all the world like he's surprised to see them, but he gives them a quick, grateful look, before jerking his head in the direction of the living room, where Ian's chilling with Debbie, Franny, and Carl in front of the TV.

Ian looks tired, and maybe even paler than normally, but he smiles readily enough when he catches sight of them. His smile widens further when Lip hands Freddie over for him to hold. ”Hey, buddy,” he coos.

”You guys staying for dinner?” Mickey calls from the kitchen. ”Made a shit ton of pasta, so there's plenty to go around.”

Lip makes a show of looking at Tami for confirmation.

”Yeah sure, why not?” she says, playing along. ”Saves me having to cook in a kitchen that's only half-existent.” She raises her voice: ”Thanks, Mickey, we'd love to.”

They chat for a while, and then Debbie and Tami starts comparing notes on child development, which for some reason is slightly unsettling – maybe because there's part of him that still thinks of Debbie as his little baby sister and hearing her talk to his baby mama like an equal is fucking strange – and eventually he, Ian and Carl move into the kitchen, leaving Freddie with Tami.

Liam puts away his homework; Ian grabs them drinks from the fridge; it's familiar and comfortable and, yeah, Lip's missed this.

He looks up and catches Ian watching him. ”So, you guys just decided to stop by, huh?” Ian asks casually.

Lips shrugs, deliberatedly not glancing toward Mickey chopping lettuce by the sink. ”Yeah, you know. Been a while since we all got together, figured it'd be nice to just drop by.”

”Uh-huh.” Ian does glance over his shoulder at Mickey, who is doing a very good job of pretending to be entirely engrossed in his salad-making and not at all listening in on any conversations. Lip keeps his face carefully blank as Ian turns back to him with a knowing look on his face. There's a hint of annoyance there; maybe a hint of resignation too, and something else that Lip can't quite decipher –

For a moment, he thinks that Ian is going to say something, but then his brother rises abruptly instead. A few long strides and he's right behind Mickey, grabbing hold of his wrist and spinning him around, which is hell of a bold move, considering that Mickey is Mickey and holding a fucking knife.

”What the – ” Mickey begins, but is quickly silenced as Ian claims his lips for a kiss.

Claims really is the right word, Lip thinks, feeling as if he should avert his eyes, but not quite managing to. It's a thorough kiss; rough; demanding. Ian's got his arms wrapped around Mickey's neck, his body pinning Mickey against the kitchen counter, and there's something possessive about it, something that – yes – speaks of claim and want and need.

Mickey's still holding the knife in one hand, half a lettuce in the other, and he can't really do much but stand there and let Ian kiss him. Not that he seems to mind in the slightest, Lip notes, and fuck it, but he never thought he'd see the day when Mickey Milkovich would just melt into Ian's arms, his kiss, so easily and so happily; so entirely without reservation, in spite of being surrounded by inlaws.

Eventually Ian lets go and steps away, walking back to the table with studied nonchalance, as if he's not, in fact, leaving his husband flushed and with swollen lips and a dazed grin. The look on Ian's face gives lie to his casual attitude, however: there's something fierce there and a hint of a satisfied smirk lurking in the corner of his mouth.

Then he sits down and blinks and is just plain old Ian again, Lip's little brother grinning easily. ”How's it going with the counter tops?” he asks. ”You convince Tami to go with the concrete ones?”

”Hell no,” Lip says, taking a sip from his coke to hide his smile. ”Apparently anything but marble or at least granite is out. She's saying we should invite Aunt Opie over, have her get so shocked over our living conditions that she offers to pay for the whole thing, but... ”

Over by the stove, Mickey returns to his salad. He's still smiling. So is Ian, as he listen to Lip detail the horrors of home renovation, and Lip thinks that maybe this time they're all going to be just fine.

[talesmaniac89]

Tag, You’re It

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: The reader challenges Dean to a round of laser tag, to see who’s really the best shot.

Triggers: None really, just fluff

Y/N = Your name | Y/E/C = Your eye colour

“Pull in here Dean!” You bounced excitedly in your seat as you pointed to the arcade in front of you. Smile wide and (Y/E/C) eyes bright with the premature rush of a challenge as you twisted in your seat to raise a teasing eyebrow at the grumbling hunter.

Dean Winchester, however, didn’t seem as excited for the prospect ahead of him. Even though he’d been all for it when you’d raced him to the car. All big words, sharp eyes and squared shoulders, ready to prove you wrong on your assumption that you’d beat him in a one to one shoot out. 

Of course, he’d probably also not thought you’d be dragging him to the closest arcade to put his bragging to the test straight away. Considering the challenge, he’d most likely considered it to at best involve a gun range and at worst a bunch of tin cans in a pretty little line.

“Are we really doing this?” Dean groaned, though he still turned into the car park with a grimace and hesitant green eyes locked on the big, faded ‘Fun Land’ sign in front of the door. Seeming less impressed by the second as he took in the crumbling facade.

Honestly, the place had seen better days. 

The sign looked like it was just one bad gust away from crashing to the ground. The ‘F’ was faded and dented enough to barely be visible at all, renaming the old arcade to ‘Un-Land’ instead. And the obvious signs of rust creeping in from the sides of the vintage styled metal hinted at years of neglect. But hell, it was the only arcade in a 10-mile radius, and it would have to do. 

Hopefully the equipment inside wasn’t in as bad of a state as the outside. The reviews had been good online after all. Though you were still adamant that you could beat Dean in a shoot off even if your only available weapon was a peashooter. 

“Hell yes we’re doing this. If you’re gonna brag and say you’re better than me, you have to be ready to put your money where your mouth is,” You grinned, reaching for the door as soon as he pulled the Impala into one of the many available parking spots. 

Based on the ghost town of a parking lot; the old and rundown arcade was pretty much empty. Which was what you’d been aiming for when you pulled Dean along early on a Monday morning. You didn’t need other soldiers on the battlefield if you were going to show him you were the better shot. Though, in your own totally humble opinion, the place could’ve been full, and you’d still come out on top of any damned leader board. You knew your way around guns. 

Any type of gun.

“But… Laser tag? Isn’t that just for kids’ birthday parties and boring stripper-less bachelor parties?” Dean’s deep voice was right behind you once he spoke up again. Sending surprised little pleasurable shivers up your spine as you turned to face him, nearly bumping into his chest from how close he was. 

It took you a second to find your voice; your head loud with some not-so-innocent thoughts about the gorgeous hunter in front of you. 

Damn it.

It was unfair how mentally tongue-tied he could leave you by just standing that little bit too close to you. Those broad shoulders and muscular arms easily brought with them fantasies best reserved for the four walls of your own room back at the bunker at any given point of the day. Even more so when they were close enough for you to run your fingers over. 

Especially when the rest of the man was just as sinfully gorgeous. From those slightly bowed legs and his perfectly toned chest, making you wonder how all of him would feel pushed up against you, one strong thigh between your legs and calloused fingers circling your wrists. To those tempting full lips and that defined jaw peppered with just the right amount of stubble to make you want to trace it with your tongue. And of course, your favourite pair of bright green eyes; easier to get lost in than any national forest. 

Ok, so maybe you had a tiny bit of a crush on the wilderness that was Dean Winchester. 

Which meant the added bonus of getting some time alone with him did add to your giddy energy. But it was 99% about proving him wrong… Or maybe 75%, at least. Swallowing down your own dirty mind, you pushed your thoughts aside along with the buzz in your veins from reacting to the near magnetic pull of him by walking backwards towards the door to the arcade. 

“Well, bachelors and birthday parties will have to wait in line. Right now, it’s a way for me to kick your ass,” You shot back, a little too late and too weak, when you found your voice again. Adding a secret ‘and to help you de-stress’ to yourself as he rewarded your teasing words with a roll of his eyes and a huff before he followed you to the door. 

Dean had been a bit on edge lately. Not that you blamed him. But it hurt to watch him pace the floor dragging a fidgeting hand through his hair and not finding any outlet for his nervous energy. Which was really why you’d challenged him in the first place.

You both turned to your little challenges whenever one, or both, of you were on edge from the tense lack of action between hunts. It made the quiet days easier to deal with when you had nothing to hit. He was your best friend, even if you felt more than just friendship for the hunter, and you just wanted to help him. To make him smile again.

There had always been a great chemistry between you two. Some intuitive part of you that just knew when the other was hurting, or needed an outlet for the building adrenaline, energy and frustration. Maybe it was just friendship, maybe it was something more. Personally, for you it was definitely the latter and sometimes you believed it was the same for Dean. You’d just not been able to own up to it properly yet. At least not enough to find the needed courage to test your theory that those hidden glances you sometimes caught out of the corner of your eye meant he felt the same way you did.

“I don’t know…” Dean sighed as you turned on your heel to push the door open, happy to see the inside looking a hell of a lot more modern and cleaner than the fading outside shell of the building. Hopefully their ‘state of the art’ laser tag arena lived up to the hype you’d read about online. Each session apparently came with a scoped rifle, a handgun and a ‘smoke grenade’ that was more a burst of steam than anything. All set in a dark maze made to look like an abandoned warehouse. 

A setting you were both intimately familiar with from your many hunts. 

“You’re just scared ‘cause you know you can’t beat me,” You sing-songed teasingly as you nearly skipped towards the reception desk. Happy to see that the inside looked as empty as the parking lot. Which meant there shouldn’t be too long of a wait. And hopefully you’d have the whole arena to yourselves. So you could properly school the hunter.

“Oh… It’s on…” Dean winked at you. That boyish half-grin chasing away the rest of his annoyed reluctance as he fell into step next to you. Bumping a toned bicep against your shoulder when you rewarded his agreement with a loud victorious laugh which only sounded louder in the empty arcade. 

Ok, so it was more than just a tiny crush. 

You loved Dean Winchester. You just needed to get your shit together for long enough to tell him. Hopefully without destroying your friendship. 

---

“Not fair (Y/N)!” Dean tried to sound annoyed as his vest blinked red to signal your clear shot to his chest, but the laughter soaking the words took the edge off it. 

You’d been kicking ass and taking names for the first fifteen minutes of the thirty-minute round. Though Dean kept telling you it was only because you kept hiding from him. Either that or because the gun was lighter, he was new to laser tag, or one of a million other whiny excuses. 

For the first ten minutes, the big guy hadn’t taken your game seriously. Allowing you to easily duck around corners and sneak up on the hunter. Your movements hidden by the music and the blinking lights as you used your handgun to get in a clean shot before running away laughing. Blatantly ignoring the ‘no running’-signs that littered the walls. 

Once your point lead had been announced at the ten-minute mark however. Then the game became deadly serious. Forcing you to switch tactics to keep your lead. Finding the high ground and dropping to the floor to use your scoped rifle to snipe at him from behind the chain link fence on the higher platform. 

Which was exactly where you were as he called out to you above the music and teased a laugh from you that gave away your position. Leaving you just a few short seconds to roll to the side and scramble back up on your feet before he closed in on you. Easily getting in a shot at the back of your vest just before you rounded another corner. 

---

His points were closing in on yours. 

“Stop moving so much! You’re cheating!” Dean’s laughter sounded from somewhere behind you as you raced towards another corner with a loud, breathless laugh of your own.

The twenty-minute mark had seen a point score that was both in triple digits and the distance between your points was shrinking fast. The hunter’s longer strides left you to run away, ducking and rolling half the time as he kept trying to get in shots at you while you zig-zagged away from him.

“All’s fair in love and war Dean!” You shot back with a breathless laugh over your shoulder before rounding the corner and jumping a small barrier to lie in wait, knowing he’d follow you around it sooner rather than later. Switching from your rifle, you aimed the handgun towards the corner and held your breath. But there was no sign of those bright eyes and boyish grin coming into view around the corner. 

Where was he?

“Got you,” Dean’s voice in your ear teased a childish squeal out of you as he snuck up on you and got another shot in. Damn it. You were tied. 

Laughing you turned towards him and winked before easily using your smaller size to your advantage, ducking under his arm and rushing around another makeshift barrier. Nearly sliding on the floor from the sharp left turn before turning to walk backwards and waiting for him to hit the slippery patch that almost made you stumble. Gun aimed and finger on the trigger. 

You barely got the shot fired through your loud laughter as Dean came into view around the corner. Stumbling over bowed legs as he fumbled with his gun. The Winchester curse striking again. 

The brothers somehow both always seemed to nearly drop whatever weapon was in their hands at least once. Luckily, this time, you could use it to your advantage as you ducked, dropped and rolled. Getting around the corner with another breathless chuckle at Dean’s curses from around the corner. 

---

Your back and forth point-lead kept changing as Dean copied your earlier tactic; sniping at you from the top of one of the structures you didn’t even know how he climbed. While you tried to hide around corners and fire blindly in his direction. Both of you breathless and hot as the robotic voice signalled the last few minutes had started. 

The final countdown propelled Dean into further action as he jumped nimbly down from his vantage point to chase after you again. Sniping was good for steady points, but not much of a winning tactic with only minutes left to spare.

You had the lead, but only barely and Dean was hot on your heels as you ran around another corner, only to run straight into a dead end. If he caught you in there, he was sure to win the whole game by simply locking you in place and firing blindly around the corner. 

You only had a few seconds to formulate your plan. Which was probably what made you throw caution to the wind as you kept your gun by your side instead of aiming it at where he was sure to show up. Deciding, hell, two birds, one stone, just as Dean came around the corner. 

Eyes shining bright with early victory as he lifted his gun. 

Before he could fire however, you ducked under his aim and pushed him against the wall. Your hand flat against his vest as you pushed yourself up against him. Hating the fact that the rigid plastic of the laser tag vests was keeping you from feeling his body against yours. You knew you should probably take a second to think things through. But, you were acting on adrenaline; the only way you ever managed to muster up the courage to do something absolutely insane. 

Both when it came to hunts and your own non-existent love life. 

So, before Dean could speak up or fix his aim, you let your hand slide against the back of his neck and pulled his head down towards yours. Your lips pushing against his in a quick, breathless and giddy kiss. Barely allowing yourself to linger at the taste of him or let the world fall away around you before you stepped back, just as Dean’s lips became pliable against yours. 

The quick-witted hunter, did however have lightning fast reflexes after years in the business. So, before you could fully slip away from his arms, he’d reached out to pull you against him again, wrapping strong arms around your waist. Pupils blown and lips slightly parted as he let his tongue wet them, tasting you on them. 

The growl that left him was low and deep in his chest, yet from this close you could easily hear it above the music. The animalistic need in it sending shots of heat through your system. He wanted this, he wanted you, and damn it, you wanted to properly savour him as well. To fully let yourself drown in the taste of peppermint and spice that you’d only gotten a small teased hint of.

But that would have to wait until after you won the game and proved you were the better shot. You were nothing if not stubborn after all. 

And so, you only allowed him to pull you back against him for a few short seconds. His lips parting as he groaned against your mouth, all willing and wanting. Teasing a moan from you that he easily swallowed as his hands roamed against your sides, seeming annoyed at the hard plastic that stopped him from tracing your curves. 

An annoyance that only grew when you pulled away again and he pushed his torso forward trying to follow. A greedy mouth looking for yours with a greedy desperation as you raised the handgun and stepped back away with a smirk and a wink. 

Dean’s eyes were so focused on your lips that he barely even seemed to notice the gun until you took proper aim. Green eyes widening, though he made no move to raise his own. Still too stunned and rattled from your surprise kiss.

Letting your teeth grazing against your lower lip; you shot him at point blank range before turning with a laugh and walking away. Your pace unhurried and an extra little swing to your hips from where you felt his eyes roaming your body in jeans you knew for a fact were very flattering. Leaving the big guy dazed against the wall; his own gun forgotten in his hand and the win as good as yours. 

By the way his eyes burned into your body before you slipped around the corner, counting down the last seconds, you already knew how you’d be celebrating your win. Pushed up against a wall somewhere as Dean’s lips explored your neck and mouth properly. Teeth marking your throat and a dangerously low groan trapped in his chest. One big hand circling your wrists and keeping them pushed over your head to stop you from running away again and one big, toned thigh pushed between your legs.

Not that you minded. Hell, that would be way better than any trophy or money you could ever win from your challenge. 

Tags:

Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132love​​ @woodworthti666​​ @defenderrosetyler​​  @akshi8278​​ @justanotherwinchester​​ @lyarr24​​ @torn-and-frayed​​ @all-will-be-well-love​​ @wearesuchstuff1​​ @thefridgeismybestie​​ @adoptdontshoppets​​ @punof-agun​​ 

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @hobby27  @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sea040561 @donnaintx @alwaysdreamingforthebest  @thatmotleygirl​ @chocolateheart @superfanficnatural @flamencodiva @starryeyeseunbyul​

---

[defensefilms]

Defense Films Names His Top 5 Favorite Rappers

In All It’s Infinite Glory And Magnanimity, Defense Gives You His Top 5 Favorite Rappers. 

5. 50 Cent 

To this day, when you need a playlist for a MMA class and the group is hella diverse, you’re not really sure which way to go with it, pop in that 50. Can’t go wrong with Get Rich Or Die Trying (the original), or even that G-Unit Beg For Mercy.

That run from late 2002-2005/06 was unlike anything you’ll ever see again. That was a perfect situation where there was organic support from fans and there were people at a business level, mainly 50, that knew how to turn it into the wave that it became and industry has been trying to replicate this ever since.

While most people remember is the numerous scandals, beefs and controversies of that time but it was the music that moved the audience. For all the ways 50 Cent’s success mirrors ruthless American capitalism, his debut album is low key one of the most inspiring albums you’ll ever listen to. 

It’s a foxhole mentality on wax. It’s me-versus-you type thinking. It’s someone has to lose and I’ll be damned. It’s who ever has to get hit, is gonna get hit. 

See the first time I listened to it, it was about “In Da Club”, “Wanksta”, you know the more palatable records that got on radio and all that but the more I listened the more I realized, it was actually built on the backs of songs like “Patiently Waiting”, “Many Men”, “Back Down”, “Don’t Push Me” and “Gotta Make It To Heaven”. On one side it’s as motivational as you can think of but it’s not the wacky kind of naivé motivational talk because it’s willing to get it’s hands dirty and go in to much grittier ideas. 

Like his predecessors, 50 pulls off the trick of balancing easy-to-listen-to records on a foundation of graphic and aggressive songs.  

Recommended Songs: Maybe We Crazy, When It Rains It Pours

4. Jedi Mind Tricks

I’ll give you props if you know who these man are but they are legends. Point blank. Violent By Design will forever rank as one of the great group albums in hip-hop history.  Vinny Paz, Jus Allah and producer/DJ Stoupe The Enemy of Mankind, gave hip-hop a shockwave they weren’t ready for, especially back in 1999.

Hip-hop as a business wasn’t ready to market a group, whose themes were rooted in topics like government control, military warfare, covert control tactics, religion and psychological warfare. To have all that in one bundle wasn’t something that big time A&R’s were ready for. 

Had they started this group in 2010, they would have walked in to a business landscape that was far more suitable to who they were as an act and as MC’s. 

Even with that JMT still enjoyed a lot of notoriety and they definitely succeeded in establishing their following, despite the odds. 

While Violent By Design may serve as the magnum opus of their body of work, their run really starts in 1997 with the Psycho-Social, Biological & Electro-Magnetic Manipulation Of Human Kind. 

Yes guy, that’s an album title. You gotta think now, I was in high school the first time I heard this and I was very into conspiracy theories and nonsense, so this album hit me right between the eyes. The idea that someone could use the medium of hip-hop in this way was crazy and the album would have been more than 10 years old when I first heard it.

No, the hip-hop historians among us will argue that Wu-Tang were a better and more influential group and I’d tend to agree, I can also bust back and say, “these dudes took Wu-Tang’s formula and gave it a whole different edge.”

 I’ll break it to you like this, Wu-Tang gave the world swordsmanship and the first projectile weapons like bow and arrows, spears and the likes. Jedi Mind Tricks gave the world gun powder, advanced modern explosives and semi-automatics. You see what I mean?

Recommended Songs: Untitled, Retaliation Remix

3. Jay-Z

No top rappers list is complete without my man. The only reason he ain’t higher is because, I rate a rapper more highly if they’re in the prime of their musical abilities. If this were an all-time list he’d be way way higher. 

Beginning with Reasonable Doubt is really the only place to start when it comes to Jay. The production, the skits, the way every sentence was so tightly wound together, the word selection and sentence construction. It’s remembered as an album of hits because of tracks like “Cant Knock The Hustle”, ”Feelin It” and “Brooklyn’s Finest” but Reasonable Doubt was really defined by “Dead Presidents”, “D’evils”, “Politics As Usual” and “Can I Live”. 

The first batch of songs gave the album some relatability, as far as depicting club vibes and nightlife glamour because that second batch of songs were all built on darker themes like betrayal, jealousy, greed, blind ambition and deception. That combination of themes as well as the production to match each one is why that album will always rank high among a certain listenership. 

With that being said, never make the mistake of thinking Jay or any man is perfect. There’s like a 3 album run where there’s moments of dope-ness but not a truly complete album. 

Still with that, songs like “Imaginary Player” and “Where I’m From” will rank among his best songs.

It’s only when you get to The Blueprint can you start to see Jay perfecting the art of crafting, whole, complete albums that bump from start to finish. The Blueprint was near perfection in this regard. “U Don’t Know”, “Heart Of The City” and “Momma Loves Me” will rank as his best efforts and yeah, I skipped a few.

The Black Album replicated the Blueprint’s listenability, while also dealing in topics that created an album that sounded very personal to Jay. 

All told, the best parts of his catalogue are so strong that there is no denying his place on my list.

Recommended Songs: Dead Presidents, I Love The Dough

2. Action Bronson

I cannot for the life of me fathom how this man doesn’t get the love but the real ones know. 

The mixtape download era (2010-2017 give or take), had many unlikely success stories. An overweight white guy, who grew up cooking in his parents deli/eatery, turned pro-chef then turned rapper, is beyond unlikely. Only the internet could allow this man to succeed and thank the hip-hop gods it did.

From 2012 to about 2018, Action was one of the only constants in my playlist. I still remember where I was the first time I heard “Brunch”. His catalogue starting with the Tommy Mas produced, Dr Lecter and boasting full collaborations albums along side Statik Selektah and the Alchemist, and of course the classic Blue Chips series. This man’s prime will be underrated. 

If you’re going to take one chapter of Bronson’s art and study it, it’s going to be Blue Chips 1 and 2. Both are thematically perfect without ever trying to be. Which is what allowed Party Supplies to make production choices that grabbed you from the jump. From the first time you hit play on the opening of Blue Chips 1, you’re hit with the sound of falling shards of glass and a violin sound that makes the opening song un-skippable. The songs themes are also a perfect introduction to the man himself. Debauchery, expensive taste, hedonism, revelry, unabashed pleasure-seeking, drug use and just enough self-depreciation that you felt you were along for the ride rather than just a fly on the wall, turning your nose in disgust. It was a perfect mixtape, at a time when mixtapes were at a crazy dumb high standard.

It’s not so much that a rapper made punchlines about food, that would be an over-simplification and really missing the trick. It’s that he made everything he said sound like the dopest thing ever and the most underrated trick about his music is that he made grown man rap without needing to be thuggin’. A rare feat. 

Bronson has since gone on to establish himself as a content creator/producer/food review guy but man, what he accomplished as a complete body of work is nothing short of astonishing.

Recommended Songs: Midget Cough, Bonzai

1. Headie One

So it’s late last year. I’m hanging with my boy Phil and Brown, we had just finished some content and Phil says “yo listen to this”. He proceeds to play Golden Boot and it hasn’t stopped bumping since. 

A UK rapper with a lyrical nous and wit that rivals even legends like Jay-Z, but rapping over trap and drill beats. What Headie One is doing is not the norm and I’m talking in terms of his lyrics, sentence construction, word selection, metaphors, he does it all and like all the greats, he makes it look easy. 

His collaboration with RV definitely helped mold him, with both the “Sticks and Stones” and “Drillers and Trappers” mixtapes giving you an idea of what Headie offers as a lyricist. He compliments RV’s brash, aggressive boasts with slightly less obvious but incredibly witty boasts of his own.

His discography though really starts to peak with 2018′s “The One”. That’s where Headie begins find a sweet spot between his lyrics, production and the themes of his songs. A mixtape like this can only exist via independent release because outside of the aforementioned “Golden Boot”, ain’t none of those songs getting any radio play especially in a country as “conservative” as England. Even in a genre saturated with gangsta/trap, “The One” stands out for what he accomplishes lyrically.

Headie would follow that by releasing “The One Two” in June of 2018 and he ascends even more in what he’s able to accomplish with the words.

 The track “Banter On Me” should be in an all-time list somewhere for being the wittiest track of all time. The song is literally just Headie finding new and innovative ways to boast, call out and bait his foes. Hip-hop/Rap has plenty of beef songs that weren’t really direct call outs to any known public figure but were still definitely taking shots at someone. 50 cent’s “Wanksta” and “Officer Down” are some examples of such songs I can think of. Those did not really have the kind of wit Headie displays here. The constant streams of alliterations, double meanings, puns, metaphors, inferences and innuendos is just astonishing. There’s a real mastery of language at play here. The song is a lesson in language, no textbooks. 

Headie has since released his debut album along with additional tracks for the delux version of the album. His debut studio release “Edna” does what studio releases are supposed to do. “Parle-Vouz Anglais” and “Aint It Different” will standout and are difinitely the most palatable songs as far as radio play. Those are the 2 songs I’d play for first time listeners. 

Recommended Songs: Hard To Believe, Dues, Zodiac

[i-know-you-can]

The Story of Us - It takes a village

Time flies and it’s been a little while since I added anything new to my collection of short one shots/drabbles but a few days ago a wonderful idea by @tikigoddess caught my attention and wouldn’t let me go. You can find the original post here or if you don’t want to be spoiled

Read below or on Ao3

“Are you sure you guys are gonna be fine on your own? I can just tell Veronica to reschedule. Or maybe we can stay in. I’m sure she could bring the whole spa over here if she wanted.”

“Betts,” Jughead says, placing a hand on her shoulder to stop her nervous rambling, the other hand cradling their baby daughter against his chest. “We’ll be just fine. Mia will probably sleep most of the time you’re away anyway while I’ll try to get some writing done. No need to worry about us.”

It’s been only six weeks since Mia Isabella Jones has entered their lives, causing everything they do to stop and focus on her. And while Jughead is more than willing to do that, assuming the role of a full time dad with pride, he’s also still a husband, one of his duties being that he needs to force his wife to take time for herself and relax.

“But what if...” Betty tries to protest but Jughead stops her.

“No what ifs. You’re only going to Greendale. If something were to happen, which it won’t, Veronica’s driver will have you back in no time.”

With a resigned sigh Betty nods and Jughead knows just how she feels. Every moment spent away from their daughter feels like forever. And for someone as young as her, it probably is. Even though she spends most of her day sleeping, completely unaware of her parents’ presence.

“I’ll miss this sweet face,” Betty says, her lips down-turned as she strokes Mia’s cheek, the little girl rewarding her with a toothless smile.

“I’ll miss yours too.” Jughead grins, making her chuckle. “But it’s only a few hours and you deserve time for yourself.”

Just then a car honks outside of their house, signaling Veronica’s arrival.

With dozen kisses to Mia’s face and a few spare for him, Betty is out of the door, finally leaving the father-daughter duo alone.

“It’s just you and me kiddo,” Jughead whispers and for a moment he worries Mia will feel the lack of her mother’s presence and break into tears. He sure would in her place. But instead she just lets out a quiet gurgle and snuggles into his chest.

“I know, I’ll miss mommy too,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Not sure if more for her comfort or his. “But I promise we’ll have fun.”

Jughead may have exaggerated the term fun when twenty minutes later Mia is sleeping soundly in her crib while he stares at the blank screen of his computer, willing the words to come to him. It’s difficult to get into the zone though, as a thought in the back of his mind keeps nagging him, telling him he’s forgetting something important. He’s ran through the mental checklist of baby care twice already, making sure his daughter was safe and satisfied but the feeling doesn’t go away.

It’s only when his phone rings and a frustrated “Jones, where are you? We’ve been waiting for twenty minutes.” comes from the other end that he realizes what he’s been forgetting this whole time. The monthly Serpents’ meeting.

While the previous month, due to Mia being barely two weeks old, Toni, as his second in command, lead the meeting, this month Jughead promised to check back in himself. A thought that quickly slipped his mind in the hustle and bustle of his everyday life.

What was once a five minute bike drive now turned into half an hour as Jughead triple checked the contents of the diaper bag before loading Mia into the car seat and setting off towards the White Wyrm. By the time he arrives, the Serpents are already waiting, faces predictably twisted with annoyance that quickly dissipates and turns into smiles once they notice the sleeping baby strapped to his chest. His daughter does tend to have that sort of effect on people.

“Sorry for the delay, guys,” Jughead says as they all settle into their chairs, “but as you can see, I have a very cute excuse.”

It’s barely ten minutes later when he’s running his hand through his hair in frustration. He’s forgotten how these meetings can sometimes go, especially with new members of the gang and without Betty by his side to shut them up with a single look before they have a chance to say something stupid.

“It’s just weed. What’s the big deal?” the newest member of the gang, a self-nicknamed guy called Sniper, asks, crossing his arms. He looks like a toddler about to throw a tantrum and Jughead hoped he was at least two years away from having to deal with that.

“The Serpents don’t deal drugs. It’s one of the main rules and you know that,” Jughead says, trying to keep his tone firm and serious. He knows that the adorable baby strapped to his chest may be making it a bit more difficult to take him seriously but he tries anyway.

Sniper rolls his eyes with an exaggerated huff, muttering something about the gang being boring. Then he pulls out a pack of cigarettes but Toni slaps the lighter out of his hand before he can light one.

“Are you crazy? There is a baby here,” she says, her eyes flaming with anger.

“Yeah, and Fangs has asthma. The Wyrm is a strict no smoking zone,” Sweet Pea growls, standing up to tower over the new guy for emphasis.

Sniper takes a quick look around him, as if wondering whether anyone will back him up, but the other Serpents just shake their heads and send him disapproving looks. “What kind of stupid gang is this?” he grumbles, kicking a chair angrily.

The sudden noise startles Mia from her slumber, a loud wail piercing through the air in an instant.

“See? Now you made the baby cry. Get out of here!” Sweet Pea snarls, pushing him towards the exit.

Jughead’s hand immediately comes up to Mia’s back, trying to soothe her with gentle strokes. “It’s okay, sweetie,” he talks to her in the softest voice possible, “sorry that poopy head woke you up.” He hears a couple of people snicker at his choice of words but ignores them, bouncing lightly on his feet, hoping to quickly put her back to sleep. The first three weeks of her life, bouncing on a fitness ball was the only sure-fire way to get her to sleep but Betty and Jughead have since moved on from bringing the ball with them everywhere so this is the most he can do now.

The little girl isn’t having it though, her tiny face scrunching up and her cries growing louder. Some of the Serpents, mostly the ones who don’t have kids on their own, start looking uncomfortable, clearly not sure how to deal with the situation. A crying baby is not a common problem during gang meetings.

“Let me hold her. Maybe she’s just sick of all the testosterone in the air,” Toni says and after a moment of hesitation Jughead carefully extracts Mia from the baby carrier.

“Be careful,” he tells her and she shoots him a look that says: “ I know what I’m doing better than you do.” . He supposes she’s right. After all, she has her own tiny person at home and therefore a lot more experience than he does. Still, it doesn’t stop him from worrying whenever he hands his daughter to someone else.

Toni’s presence doesn’t seem to help though, as Mia continues to prove to everyone how strong her lungs are.

“Let me try,” an older Serpent comes up to Toni, reaching his hands out for the baby. “My girls always liked to be rocked in a specific way.”

Jughead runs his hand through his hair, wondering how the direction of the meeting changed so quickly. Ah, right, Sniper was being an idiot.

Betty often teases him about how the Serpents have hardly resembled a gang in the past half a decade. He usually tries to oppose her, saying that a gang isn’t defined by doing criminal activities or riding motorcycles (many of the Serpents have exchanged theirs for family cars). But looking at them now, all he sees is a group of dorks in leather jackets, passing along a crying baby in a poor attempt to get her to stop crying.

“Your ugly face is only making her cry more.” He hears Sweet Pea say to a Serpent called Hisser who is trying to pull funny faces at Mia, before taking the baby from him. “Babies like being sung to,” he says, taking a deep breath before a slightly husky rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star reverberates through the bar.

“You’re singing it wrong,” Fangs interrupts him, starting the song again and several other Serpents start humming alongside him.

To everyone’s surprise, by the time they finish the song for the second time, the crying stops, Mia’s bright green eyes half closed and heavy with sleep.

“We did it, boss!” Fangs whisper yells in excitement as Sweet Pea continues to rock the baby in his arms until her eyes close completely.

As Jughead watches them, he realizes he could hardly ask for a better family for his daughter. Raising a child really takes a village. And sometimes that village is a group of gang member singing lullabies in a bar.

_______________

“Oh my god!” Betty exclaims with a giggle as a video of the Serpents singing to her daughter plays on her phone. Underneath a message from Toni says: "The Serpent Princess already has them wrapped around her tiny finger.”

[grahamcarmen]

Hi, so I just finished the new season today! I have so many thoughts, the last few episodes felt kind of rushed? I wished they had gone about the whole situation between Gray and Carm at the end differently. More so on seeing them reunited. My biggest question, is why was he so quick on going back to VILE? He knew what they were capable of yes, was it to feed his criminal impulses? Why did ever want to steal in the first place? What led him to that conclusion and how did he learn of VILE? I was keen on seeing more of his backstory, and still need time to let the story simmer so I can analyze it more. It's just confusing. I guess it's just because the show ended that I feel so bittersweet y'know. What do you think Carmen would've done after they all disbanded? How could she leave them so quickly after she just got back to Team Carmen in the end? Besides wanting to see her mother. I was hoping they'd at least stay together.

i think that more than a few people feel that ( the knee jerk incredulity at her just leaving them a note and yeeting was real)

like disclaimer again: i do love carmen and this season this is just expanding on some little ??’s

on gray and “thinking gray.”: I was also feeling the lackluster on the payoff motivation wise for gray returning to VILE ( which was definitely needed as he was the secret weapon needed to finally get evil carmen back and at least partially inevitable due to ownership of the choices yadadadada )but like when he finally got his memories back he just repeated some things that i never really doubted. that gray did this of his own free will, he probably is of a lower empathy in general (which does not mean incapable of caring and doing the right thing. just that..~~~), that he regretted hurting carmen. in s1 he says his primary motivation as making more money and i was like”mmhmm fits.” being a thief and all and why not since they hadn’t introduced the big “needs to be able to tie up loose ends.” as a operative qualifier to anyone, including some of the recruits there. the only newer thing was his video that he seeked them out. which is interesting and all but sets him up as a go-getter so its so confusing that he’d choose to return to VILE ...a place where he was hurt and is so freaking selfish with what capers they choose to pursue. i kinda went on a tangent on another post that there is a theme of using a false sense of bonding to give them a little more loyalty which is like really heavy considering that means offering a “home” to what looks like operatives who might all be orphans but i don’t think it was highlighted enough to say “HEY YO” even tho GRAY LOOKS SO TIRED TO LEARN ABOUT HIS PAST WITH VILE

its really interesting because of the 3 people who had access to him/nature we got; carmen who only encouraged his desire to help (for the kiddos, for her safety, for assuring her that they were in...whatever... together, and make sure that they weren’t being secret spy jerks) ACME who got like...0 usefulness (riperonis ma guys), and VILE with maelstrom just hammering home all his shadier deeds with  “YEAH THIS IS YOU.”  AND HIM JUST ACCEPTING IT AFTER SITTING FOR A LONG AF TIME ALONE.

and when this was happening I was thinking about this analysis from another fandom about characters who resign to the law of the strong which could have been a reason for why gray doesn’t seem to hold the consequences for his failure against VILE even though he really should. (if they bothered but listen-)

its something that happens when characters choose to live in worlds they know are unfair, know that they choose to lie and steal and cheat, and thus should not be surprised or hurt when it happens to them in return. which of course lead to them not knowing where to draw the line on what happens to them...and i mean this in like some narratives usually go (hahaha no thats messed up please gtfo being treated like that is not ok and in allowing others to define your limits you are whittling yourself away). and they decide to live in resignation that. i am capable of bad... so i AM bad. (I am that guy. i’ve always been that guy) and makes them absolutely ripe for the (but you’ve been good . you can choose to be better.  it won’t erase the wrongs of the past but it will make for a better future)

but that still leaves exploration of “WHY WOULD YOU CHOOSE TO LIVE BY THE LAW OF THE STRONG??” and you know...not having anyone to rely on, poverty, or what was simple rebelliousness turning to darker and darker paths, are some easy reasons to put a spotlight on maybe our operatives having depth and like..arcs. especially any of those reasons combined. ESPECIALLY SINCE THEY’RE WHAT VILE CONSISTENTLY IS SHOWN OFFERING. (shadowsan really is their s-tier character huh)

which i really thought this show would go for when a shivering brunt who is loyal and protective asked if she was really going to be left behind or remember how unsympathetic most of them seemed to see carmen chloroformed because “she did interrupt our heist.” meaning that they understand this world. probably have understood it for longer than anyone should. (antonio being content as a “pawn” is the tenant in my head today) and why shouldn’t more money be important. or honestly how simple it was to accept that someone would just need more money.

with gray they introduced that he could be good and he could be bad but like leaned into “no all that niceness was fake and he’s bad.” due to the hyper specificity of the mind wipe apparently? which also leans into really flat interpretation of evil!carmen (i just mean that there is a lot there ...) meaning theres no really exploration of him and more of a judgment (even though he’s shown to be kind, snarky, and upfront, as himself without a mind wipe.) and then we wait...

the pacing of the last 2 episodes: adrenaline bebe!!! but also there were so many concepts being introduced and resolved and skimmed past so that it is a little confusing at some conclusions. like the scene you’re talking about where carmen just leaves a note and ghosts is like 30 seconds and thats a lot to unpack because ?? i’m really thinking that it might have been insinuating that carmen left them the pen specifically to give them a new home to wait for her because she was going on that little break like she planned (and they knew was the endgoal) because it was behind her note and presumably placed by her but because i was focusing on the letter goodbye like ??? i thought for some reason that it was zack saying he would now like to try ACME because HE thought of it and i was like ??when did you consider this?? and 3rd watch i was finally “ahhh ok ok i think i get it.”

another bitten off scene i think might have been when gray in his first mission is already exhibiting signs of going...”huh this is not good.”

from stopping carmen from unprofessionalism to seeing that new carmen is willing to up and leave the group for mental gymnastics instead of relying on them 100% to going to the ferris wheel where he DEFINITELY SAW HER TRYING TO KILL A CIVILIAN since it showed his reaction after ivy’s. and then it turn to team red because how they feel about it definately matters more than gray but its also so easy to miss that choosing to have gray witness that as the start of what makes him turn himself in (maybe this is just a possible interpretation and its midnight ok)

evil carmen! lost her empathy. ok. so then like thats a static judgment about how they’re gonna make her do bad stuff and she still absolutely cares about her history and VILE still needed to enforce bonding and giving her memories that they comforted her and gave her her coat so thats why she cares about it and her anger at betrayal and sense of loss that she still throws right in shadowsans face when “evil”

carmen thought she crossed a personal line?? like jeeeeeez that’s 6 months of crossing lines and the most recent and horrifying one happened like not even a minute ago and then 5 seconds later we get chief and her reconciling because yes it needed to happen so we’re not gonna address how traumatizing it was or

VILE JUST WENT ALL THE WAY DOWN HUH??

and all these things are important and have the groundwork for happening but man they just happen one after the other and its like

before moving on to the next thing and like let me breathe omg

and yeah that means that so many people were left confused because the show about family (carmen’s family that SHE built ) seemed to disband for carmen to go to see her mother at last alone, shadowsan to go to his brother and a heartbroken pair of red heads to join ACME

and we get a time gap before reuniting but only a few seconds to decide if reuniting was the plan all along(the pressure point)

and there is a lot of actual IN TIME that is broad strokes that many people have already picked whats going to haunt them that wasn’t explored more...

TLDR; i get it on both counts (gray and rushed)! glad there was some sweet in your bittersweet and since canon definitely had team red in the same place they absolutely reunited and moved back into the shop and carmen talked to them about how great her mom is and planned a dinner

[bubbashawn]

Met Gala | vanity fair part ii

author: This is so overdue. Damn, I’m sorry.

synopsis: After meeting Shawn at Vanity Fair Oscar Party, a relationship grows and the Met Gala brings all the memories back.

warnings: 3k of fluffy “I love you” confessions and a tad of anxiety. It’s part 2 of vanity fair (I linked it here) and I highly recommend you read that again before this because I make references back. I hope you like it :)

“Shawn, I don’t know about this.”

The boy you were talking to was in the bathroom, the water from the shower turning off before he walked into your shared hotel room at The Langham, New York.

It had been almost three months since you met your boyfriend at the Vanity Fair Oscar Party. He had gotten you through that night and just about every other red carpet since during award season. But this was different.

This was the Met Gala. It wasn’t even a red carpet. It was pink.

He’d been freaking out since the morning he woke up in his hotel with your smiling face inches from his own. The idea of taking anyone other than you to the Met was out of the question once he’d taken you to breakfast that morning and everyday for the rest of the week before flying back to Toronto.

The moment he walked into his meeting back home he pulled Andrew, his manager, to the side.

“Can you reach out to the design team at Tommy Hilfiger?”

“Yes,” Andrew looked at him weirdly, “what for?”

“I’m not taking Hailey.”

“Shawn, wait since when?”

“Well, actually, just last week.”

The man was looking at the Canadian singer like he had grown a second head.

“Can, um can I know why?”

“I want to take this girl I’ve been seeing and I’m not putting up with the publicity of dating Hailey to cover up for her and Justin. Last thing I need is for dating rumors to fly around.”

“Shawn, she’s a Met Gala pro at this point. Plus the publicity would look good and everyone expects you to go together.”

“Andrew,” he was basically begging, “I really, really like her. I’ve been getting breakfast with her in New York, that’s where I’ve been sneaking off too. It’s different than when I’m with Hailey. And I don’t want to risk something real for a girl who I never had in the first place.”

“Hailey knows yet?”

“I was gonna tell her after I got an ‘okay’ from you. I wouldn’t do that, I’m not stupid.”

“Better tell her then.”

Shawn’s grin stretched across his cheeks running out of the conference room and sliding into the elevator.

“Shawn! We have a meeting!”

“Yeah well I’ve got my girl to call!”

“Hailey first! And are you even together?”

The elevator doors shut and he was calling you moments later.

Hailey wasn’t shocked to hear that Shawn wouldn’t join her on the red carpet in May. She’d seen the way his arm was resting on your waist and he’d held you close whispering words only the two of you knew. The videos of your interactions and his awe from that night was warning enough.

She couldn’t blame him.

They were friends at best and she’d selfishly asked her to cover up her relationship with Justin Bieber while they tried to mend their love story in private. Now Shawn had the opportunity to fall in love for real, he wouldn’t risk it. He apologized profusely but it’s not like Hailey could be mad, he was a far too kind gentleman.

So that’s how you found yourself being prodded at with needles as they hemmed an all too perfect gown to your body. Shawn eyed you in the mirror as the bathroom door opened. He looked angelic even though your whole ensemble was supposed to make you look like an angel. Heavenly Bodies and all.

“Baby, you look beautiful.”

You couldn’t focus on his compliment, not when your heart was pounding like it was.

“I’m being serious,” your eyes wandering along the perfect chest of your boyfriend, “this is like the biggest red carpet in your career until you get nominated for a Grammy, which you will by the way, and I could barely handle the People’s Choice Awards so to even think I coul-”

“Remember the night we met?”

He looked down at you, looking into your eyes that popped with the natural smokey eye enhancing the highlights in your irises.

“When I nearly had a freak out? Yeah, thank you for reminding me.”

“Hey, no. You didn’t freak out and you looked absolutely stunning the moment I saw you step out of your car. You handled that with ease, eh? And I’m going to be there the whole time. I’m going to be with you for as long as you need me. As long as you’ll have me.”

“You won’t leave?”

“Not for a second.”

“Y’know, you were staring at me when I was at that first red carpet. Even before we met.”

He hummed not denying it.

“There’s a video of you looking back at me. Your fans have been trying to figure out where you were looking for months.”

“Looking at you, Baby. Eyes are always on you,” you kissed his lips liking the tingles his touch left you with, “I’ve got to change and then it’s you and I.”

He sent you one last smile and a kiss to your cartilage piercing he was obsessed with before heading to his stylist.

Shawn and you were heading into the black Bentley moments later. You greeted Jake, Shawn’s security guard, before slipping into the leather seats of the car your lanky boyfriend squished in after you.

The seven minute drive along fifth avenue was grueling, your pounding heart shutting Shawn’s soothing words of comfort out. His hand gripping yours once he realized he wasn’t getting into your panicked head.

Now stopped outside of the Metropolitan Museum of Art on the first Monday of May it all crashed on you. The hours of preparation didn’t seem nearly enough as Jake was stepping closer to Shawn's door.

The flashes were so bright each photographer wanted to get the headlining image as Shawn’s body left your grasp before leaning down to your eye level. His hand dipped your cheek and his thumb stroked your defining features; your high cheekbones, the scar just below your bottom lip, and the mole below your eyebrow.

“Baby?” he held your gaze, “your move.”

Your heel hit the pavement just outside the car before your brain processed the movement, Shawn’s hand holding your body flush to his whispering sweet nothings. You could feel your pulse pushing into your chest and down your fingers making your limbs tingle much like his touch on your bare back.

You would think you’d learn to not wear barebacked gowns because you couldn’t focus with Shawn’s hold on your skin but the feeling of his calloused fingers was addicting making you request the design every time.

Your boyfriend guided you down the carpet helping you pose with an ease and beauty you couldn’t have done alone. He made sure no one overwhelmed you during interviews by letting you hide in his side as he spoke for you both yet keeping you the center of the conversation. He was absolutely perfect.

“Inside we go. The worst is over, honey.”

Shawn was right. The gala itself was incredible, full of surprises and you felt comfortable with a reassuring arm rubbing your sides. The hours of chatter flew by and soon enough you were trying to change into a tight minidress for the after party.

Your arms were tangled in fabric when your boyfriend finally stepped in to help. His eyes unabashedly flitting over the smooth curves of your body. Hands gripping onto the material of your gown you’d finally changed out of. He watched the silky smooth skin of your shoulders, waist and thighs disappear under your dress.

“Christ, you’re so pretty.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” his palms were prodding and massaging under your dress, “you’re absolutely perfect. Don’t know what you're doing with me.”

“I’d be hiding away in California if I wasn’t with you. I have to say this is much better.”

He smiled down at you, his pillow soft lips wet as his tongue slipped out of his mouth. He knew what he was doing and he knew it drove you crazy. Within the privacy of Up & Down, a night club thirteen minutes from the Met where Rihanna was hosting her party, Shawn didn’t waste a second before tilting your chin so his lips could press into yours.

Your hands found his chest mentally thanking his stylist, Tiffany, for convincing him to wear the sheer button down under his maroon suit jacket he’d left in the car. You ignored the stares and the shouts of approval from the celebrities dancing in the club and just enjoyed the weight of his arm resting on your chest. His hand still on your face, tracing the scar below your lip.

He broke away while the shiteating grins bloomed over both your flushed faces. Shawn grabbed your petite hand in his large tatted one before slipping through the crowd. You tried to focus on his sculpted back as your eyes scanned the crowd around you, celebrities pushed into your sides.

“Baby,” he came to a halt pulling you in front of him, chin rested against the crown of your skull, “I’m going to go say hi to a few people,” his hand left your waist to gesture at a couple familiar faces, “wanna come?”

You just nodded your head as Shawn urged you forward, the graze of his chest never leaving your back. He’d seen a couple gazes lingering on your perfect figure and jealousy was nagging the back of his brain but he also couldn’t blame them.

You looked absolutely stunning.

Your boyfriend introduced you to a few of the A-listers in the group, celebrities names you had admired rolled off his tongue like it was nothing. You guess it kind of was for him.

Soon enough you found a couple of models who were happy to chat back and forth with you complimenting your dress and airbrushed skin, you were happy to throw the same kindness back towards them.

You were so busy giggling with your new found friends you barely missed Shawn’s presence as he wandered feet away to chat with the girl’s dates and a few of his other friends until his breath was tickling the tip of your ear, next to the golden hoop looped into the skin.

“I’m grabbing a drink with a few of the guys, want anything?”

“Remember that drink you got me a while ago? The Canadian manhattan?”

He hummed smiling, remembering the night.

You had surprised him by flying out to Toronto from your place in Los Angeles completely on a whim. It had been less than two weeks since the Oscars but you had missed seeing him up close. He took you out that night and not a week later right before you left he’d asked you out.

“Baby,” his voice was so nervous as you stood on his balcony the city lights illuminating your features, “I know it's late for me to say this and you’re leaving tomorrow, but I was wondering if you’d like to be my girlfriend?”

Shawn smiled and nodded but he was lost in his head, eyes closed with a furrow in his brow.

“You can say no. Seriously, I won’t even be mad. I just want to take you out to breakfast tomorrow and be able to say ‘my girlfriend will have a mocha with three shots of vanilla’ because I can.”

“Bubba, yes. I’m all yours, Shawn, all yours. You can order my coffee and everything.”

He was smiling so much, his grin spreading from ear to ear.

“Oh, and Bub,” He looked down at you so fast you were worried he’d get whiplash, “your move.”

Shawn kissed you that night but it was different. He let his intuition disappear from his mind and just kissed you. He kissed you like he loved you.

“The Crown Royal one?”

He knew exactly which drink it was.

“Yes please.”

“Okay, I love you.”

Shawn was about halfway to the bar when he stopped short in his tracks. He hadn’t said those words yet.

Those three words.

Sure, he had felt it. He’d felt it since you started playing with the lapels of his suit on the red carpet that first night, big doe eyes staring up at him. He often thought about how he’d tell you and none of those ideas included a slipped out whisper at a party. But he had said then.

Those three words.

He had said them. Shawn fucking Mendes just told you he loved you so casually and it left you frozen in time. You absolutely adored the boy, you had since before you’d met him. You remember squinting at your phone in your dorm with a picture pulled up on instagram. Your feelings only grew once you’d met him and you were sure you loved him. You had felt the pull since the first morning at his hotel in California when he was sound asleep and your eyes scanned his face to memorize it until he woke up. You loved him and he had said those three words you were too scared to.

The girls you had met earlier were, obliviously, still talking but you were too far in a daze, in a shock really, to even begin processing their conversation.

Thankfully you didn’t have to.

Shawn was muttering short apologies to the models all while pulling you along behind him. His eyes were determined as he guided you threw the swarm of sweaty bodies in far too expensive clothes. He smiled greetings and farewells while keeping your figure pressed to his, your head resting between his shoulder blades like they had months ago. Your boyfriend continued his stride even after you exited Up & Down and entered the bustling streets of New York City.

“Bubba, where are we going?”

“Back to the hotel.”

“Wha-why?”

“I want to be alone with you.”

Before you could say another word, Shawn was dialing a call. Your eyes caught his screen, the contact reading ‘Jake’.

“Hey man, could you send someone to pick us up?”

There was murmuring on the line.

“You’re here? Bless Andrew”

Shawn hung up before pulling you along the alley before the familiar black vehicle was in sight. He opened the door and stepped to the side pressing a kiss to your forehead as you slid into the leather interior.

“Thanks. Sorry for the confusion.”

“No problem at all. Are you heading to the Versace after party?”

“No, um actually back to the hotel.”

“Of course.”

The ride was silent. Shawn was gazing out the window until his eyes caught your stare. His hands found the curve of your waist and gently pulled you into his chest, his pout finding your forehead again. You didn’t question his quiet affection instead basking in his warmth and his arms as they wrapped around you.

It remained peacefully silent until your boyfriend was thanking Jake and offering his grasp to help you out of the car. You smiled at the older man before taking Shawn’s hand and walking into the glass entryway of your hotel.

You both offered soft, tired smiles to the lady in the lobby before slipping into the glass elevator. Your finger pressed the fifty-ninth floor and waited for the elevator to climb the tall building to the top floor.

“Are you going to tell me what’s happening?”

“Wait,” he pulled you into his arms feeling his eyes closed against your shoulder, “let’s go to bed and then we’ll talk, Baby, I promise.”

You nodded into his warm chest not bothering to argue with the sleepy boy slumped against you. Kissing his curls that were finally growing out after he cut them too short. You remember mourning the soft curls you always liked to finger through.

You two shuffled softly into the penthouse hotel room and began your sweet intimate routine you had familiarized yourself with since the first night. Shawn lifted you up onto the bathroom counter and washed your face until every touch of makeup was off your skin. He pulled his worn shirt, preferably his favorite Tom Ford one, from his suitcase and turned back to you.

Except it was different this time.

He could see the loving emotions in your eyes. The gaze he had dreamed of seeing after that night in Los Angeles when you chose to stay with him. He was so focused on admiring your features he nearly forgot you were waiting for him.

“Bubba?”

He smiled at the pet name before pulling his shirt over your goosebump covered body. Shawn slid under the silk sheets and made grabby motions with his hands until you were curling your figure into his bare chest.

Your fingers were sliding up and down his trained chest tracing shapes against the soft chest hair hoping he’d relax against your touch and say what’s on his mind.

“I love you.”

Your head shot up to look into his honey gaze.

“I’ve loved you for so long. I was so nervous, Baby, nervous to ever say anything because I didn’t want to mess up my chance with you. And I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you. Aaliyah and my mom were giving me a bunch of tips but I wanted it to be perfect so I kept quiet. And then I just blurted it out like an idiot. I ruined it.”

“Shawn,” he stared into your eyes, “Bubba, I love you too. And you didn’t ruin it. I don’t care how you tell me as long as you do.”

“I love you so much I forget how to breathe.”

You giggled against him and left sweet kisses to his collarbone.

“M’sorry for pulling you away so quickly earlier, I just wanted to be with you. Wanted this moment to be special.”

“It is.”

Shawn pressed his lips to your shoulder where his shirt didn’t cover.

“I love you, Baby, so so much.”

“I love you too,” you slid your fingers against the scar on his cheek.

He slowly pulled his head from the crevice in your shoulder and kissed your cartilage again. He had an obsession with the piercing.

“Baby,” he smiled, “it’s still your turn.”

You quickly pressed your body against his own not hesitating to find his soft pout and press your lips to his.

“I think,” Shawn kissed you again interrupting your voice, “it’s your turn now.”

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