#and almost instantly a guy slipped out of the glass plated building

[legally-killable-sparrow]

Car salesmen are avatars of the hunt

No I wont be buying any of the cars in this logiyfixuotidykd

[imaginarykpop]

It’s going to happen | Iseol

Main timeline

Words count: 3248

Waning: Curse words

Iseol’s Masterlist

2015

Mari has spent the day crying on and off, she had her phone out trying to call or text any of the girls at first they wouldn’t answer. Then they’d decline the call after that it seemed as if they all blocked her number, on Kakao as well. When Mari asked the guys to give her their phone Joshua decided to step in. This isn’t healthy at all and there’s a tiny chance they’d answer anyways.

“Riri-ya maybe it’s better to just not call them, I don’t think any of them is going to answer.” Joshua said crouched down to face the girl. Mari’s face was red as it has been all day, her nose tender and her lips were chewed on until they became raw. Mari wouldn’t look at Joshua and just played with the string of her sweatpants, the only indication that she heard him was a nod of her head, pulling her knees up to her chest and hiding her face from view. Joshua leaned in and kissed her head before sighing and getting up.

Seungcheol already informed them that he tried to call the girls and received no answer as well, they all left the group chats and weren’t going to respond not any time soon anyways. Once he was back with Jihoon and soonyoung and the 95 line and 96 line(minus Mari) surrounded them, the rest of the group tried to listen in, but they knew they’ll get told what happened when Mari isn’t in the room as it looked like the leader doesn’t have good news.

What the trio were informed with is that they’ll have to wait and the company is already thinking about debuting Mari with them but that the chances of them also debuting without her is there, they(Pledis) have to study all possible outcomes before coming to a decision. The rest of Seventeen are going to keep going to the staff and ask them about any possible updates and argue their case as much as they could in the meantime.

By the time it was almost midnight, the oldest three plus Jun and Mari were making their way to the girl’s dorm, it wasn’t far from the boy’s one, the building behind it in fact. The youngest three tried to come with but it was thought that it’s better for the oldest to go just in case any of the girls were there, there’s no telling what they would do.

Mari punched in the code for the door and she half expected it not to open and for the girls to have changed the code. But it did open, slowly walking in with the boys following her, the dorm is small as is expected for trainees, there’s only two bedrooms one of them is a closet and the other one had four bunk beds, with little to no room to walk. The living room looked normal, all the possessions that belonged to the girls gone, Mari looked around the room feeling how cold it had become. Making her way to the bedroom it was also bare, but there wasn’t much in it anyway.

“Mari-ah.” Seungcheol called from the other room, the guys were all standing around the door blocking Mari’s view to the ‘closet’, her short self couldn’t see over their shoulders.

“What?” She asked slipping between them, her jaw dropped, tears instantly welled in her eyes again. What is wrong with those girls? Her clothes were all over the place, her makeup all but destroyed, and she could spot a few of her clothes torn up. She tried to move inside more but Jeonghan stopped her.

“Wait, we need to take pictures first.” Joshua told her and pulled her out of the room. Jun took her other side running his hand up and down her back, her lips tumbled so much as she tried to stop the tears, she ran her hand through her hair and pulled at her roots, you would’ve thought she’s all dried up now, from all the crying she did.

“I’ll get you some water.” Jeonghan said to the crying girl and walked into the kitchen, he was also shocked, the cabinets were all open, a few broken glasses, plates and mugs in the sink along with Mari’s mother’s food that she made for the trainees. What is wrong with them? Why all this hate? Jeonghan isn’t the type to get easily angered but he’s fuming. He found a water bottle in the fridge along with a notebook? Taking it out he flipped through it finding a few pages filled to the brim, quickly skimming through it, it was from Gaeun to Mari. Ripping those papers out he folded them and placed them into his pocket, throwing the notebook in the trash after making sure there wasn’t anything else in it.

Back in the living room Mari was sitting on the sofa with Jun and Seungcheol, Joshua sat on one of the chairs they had in the room. The nineteen year old female was wiping her tears.

“I just don’t understand.” Mari started pushing her hair out of her face, it had gotten so messy throughout the day with all the pulling and pushing. “What did I do to them? I thought they were my friends, I loved them and I helped them with everything they needed. This doesn’t make sense at all.”

“It doesn’t, but think of it this way.” Seungcheol said trying to make Mari look at things from a different angle. “It’s better that we all knew who they are now, because I for one don’t want to debut with girls like that, what they did is hateful, awful and full of bitterness, no sane person would do this, I don’t get how all of them agreed to do this and how in their mind they thought that this is the best corse of action.”

“I think they were jealous.” Jeonghan said joining them, giving Mari the water bottle with the cap opened, he crossed his arms glaring at the destroyed room.

“Of what?” Mari sounded exasperated she didn’t believe they were jealous, there’s nothing they could’ve been jealous of in her eye. She’s been working hard for six years to debut, some of her friends already debuted. She’s been spending so many sleepless nights practicing her dancing her singing and her rap that just won’t improve.

“Of you silly, Riri-ah you’re literally Pledis’ perfect trainee, the best at the company.”

“I’m not!”

“But you are.” Joshua told her softly glancing at Seungcheol. “I don’t know for sure that what they did is coming out from jealousy, but it does make sense, Out of all the girls you’re the best and that may have caused them to be jealous, you got the best feedback.”

“I for one know that this came from you working hard day and night but to them you’re just unbeatable.” Seungcheol added.

“So I should’ve just not done my best?” Mari was confused, she started pulling at the end of her hair, before Jun stopped her.

“No, that’s not what we’re saying.” Seungcheol answered her and took her hand in his. “Look if they were sound minded people seeing you do so good would’ve just encouraged them to do their best, but as it turned out they aren’t the best people.”

“That’s their fault and in no way yours.” Jun said still rubbing her back slowly. “I have no doubts that you’ll debut Mari-ah so lets just focus on that and not them, think of the girls as your first haters, and we don’t care about haters.”

“But, but it’s hard.” Mari said her voice quivering and wavering as she said it.

“That’s why you have us, we’re not leaving you behind.” Jeonghan said with absolute certainty. “Come on, we’re having a sleep over at our dorm, we’ll clean everything up later.”

They did leave after that Mari’s hand was held by Jun the whole time, and it gave her comfort, he kept comforting her and talking to her trying to distract her, Mari was half listening half getting lost in her head. Once back at their dorms and seeing the look on everyone’s face the rest refused to ask any questions and just told them that food was ready.

That night Mari slept beside Chan, despite everything once her head hit the pillow she was out like a light, all the crying drained her mentally and physically, Chan hugged her as she slept trying to comfort her as much as possible even while she slept.

Out in the living room the 12 other members were gathered in the living room, as Jeonghan took out the papers. He had read them in the bathroom once they got back not being able to wait until Mari was sleeping, handing them to Seungcheol to read.

“Mari-ssi, you must be shocked.” Seungcheol read loud enough for everyone to hear but not too loud as to wake Mari up. “I want to say that I didn’t know that any of this was going to happen but I’d be lying. I do admit that this was in plan for a while now, I won’t ask you to forgive us or anything like that and I we won’t apologize, so don’t expect any. Fucking assholes.” Seungcheol couldn’t stop himself from cursing, his blood was boiling, he understood why Jeonghan got mad after reading this, taking a deep breath he continues. “I think we all thought that we could deal with you once we debuted after all we had other members, but seeing you and the guys interact we knew that you had them wrapped around your little finger, and that’s just not fair, why do you get to have everything? It’s not like you’re the only one that worked hard.” Pausing again, Mingyu scoffed at the words not believing his ears, this is all coming from Gaeun someone who Mari considered to be one of the closest friends, Minghao doesn’t think that he ever saw Mari even get the littlest bit angry at Gaeun or any of them for that matter and she taught a few people how to dance, that takes patience, and care. “We all worked hard but since the moment I came into the company and you always had the top marks every single week and every single month. When you told me who your parents were I knew that it had to do with that, you spoiled brat, I’m sure you had mummy or daddy bribe your way in, that got to be the only explanation as to why you were always the top. Pledis’ top trainee? More like Pledis’ top investor.”

“That’s just bullshit.” Vernon found himself saying, and they could agree more, it was like Gaeun was writing a novel or something, everything sounded so far fetched.

“You know if you don’t debut then you’d still be fine and rich, so why did you have to take my dream from me, well I guess Karma is a bitch. I knew that once we debuted you’d get all the attention, just like you always wanted, you fake ass bitch. You can actually thank us now, because you now have the attention of the company, lol, you just signed a 7 year contract and no group is there for you to debut with, try getting out of this one, but then again I’m sure daddy’s money will help you out of this. Don’t try calling any of us, and I hope you like how we redecorated before we left, have an awful life XOXO.”

The silence was deafening, those cold hearted girls. Jealous bunch of girls, that just ended their dream so carelessly and Mari’s dream with them. If they thought that they’d get into another company they had it wrong. The industry may be big but word gets around fast. Who’d take on trainees that got out of the company just before debuting, after investing so much in them, they also still have all that training debt to pay as well.

“You have to show this to the company.” Seokmin said looking at the papers in Seunghceol’s hand as if they were the reason behind everything.

“Yeah, I’ll take it with me tomorrow.”

“And let’s not tell Mari about the letter at all.” Seungkwan said and they all immediately agreed, it would break Mari more if she read it.

“I’m glad we didn’t get to debut with them.” Wonwoo said and pushed his glasses up, once again everyone agreed.

“Poor Mari.” Soonyoung said more to himself than anything else, but they all heard and felt it. This all feels like a fever dream, it doesn’t sound real, a work of fiction maybe, maybe if they went to bed and woke up tomorrow everything would be back to normal. The pain however, the pain of betrayal of their friend and their own, that was real, Mari and all of them were friends with the girls. Betrayal is a conscious choice filled with cold and angry indifference, and this kind where both ends gain nothing when they could’ve gotten so much is worse, because it leaves you wondering. Leaving Mari to survive after being stabbed is heartless, the things they’ve done has no thought behind them at all but hatred.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

After a long night and a few days of not knowing, Mari had pushed her emotions aside and threw herself at training. Once she’s in bed she sleeps right away, working her body so much she can’t not sleep, going back to her dorm once to get any salvageable items just enough to stay at the boy’s dorm, the company knows about what happened and about the letter, it all has been documented. Mari’s the first in the practice room and the last out, it worried everyone to say the least but what can they do now, until a decision is made there’s no telling her to stop. Mari’s out to prove that she’s the best choice for debut, that she can do it, she’s trying to show them that she’ll work hard and make it worth it. Unbeknownst to her, the guys have all gone and asked for her to debut with them. They are also doing all they can to prove that she’s the best choice for them.

After a long week of training and wondering Mari was asked to go to one of the meeting rooms, this time alone, once again dread filled her, her knees were shaking and her hands got sweaty, the young girl followed the staff to the meeting room where she had once signed her contract, it felt so long ago when she did that. This time the only two people in the room is one of the managers and the CEO. Bowing to the two and exchanging greetings before she sat down. Once again Mari tried to hide her feelings and appear professional.

“How have you been Mari-ssi?” The CEO asked, looking at the girl, she had the beginning signs of eye-bags, she also lost a bit of wight, but the she held herself together.

“Alright, considering everything.” Was all Mari said, she glanced at the papers in front of the two and wondered if it had the answers to all her questions.

“That’s good, look Mari the reason we wanted to talk to you alone, is because we need to get over some things before we tell you what the company has decided.” Mari only nods, urging him to continue. “You do know that the company won’t be able to debut any solo or group after Seventeen for a while.” Mari nods. “Okay and you are aware that if you debut with Seventeen then you’ll be the only female?” Another nod. “The public most likely will hate you, at first at least.” “I’m aware.” “It won’t be easy, and it may take time before they accept you.”

“You’ll have to work harder than the boys to show everyone that you belong with them.” The manager added wanting to make sure Mari understands the gravity of the situation.

“Hard work isn’t something I’m not used to.” Mari answered them and the CEO chuckled.

“Yes, we all know.” Nodding to himself, he looks at the manager and they both smile. “Then if you don’t have any other concerns we’ve decided to let you debut with Seventeen, you still have the option to terminate your contract, but if not then you’ll debut with the boys.”

The happy and teary grin that made it onto the girl’s face wasn’t going away, once again in the same room she was told she’ll debut. What a rollercoaster of a life, her life flipping and turning every five seconds. Standing up the girl starts bowing and thanking them giving promises of working hard and not disappointing them.

Mari stood in front of the dance studio getting herself together before she walked, all 13 faces turned to look at her. “I’m IN!” She shouted happily before she room erupted with cheers that rivals football(soccer) fans. Mari was pulled into a group hug, twirled around and carried on top of shoulders, everyone was singing dancing and having the time of their lives. They’ll all debut together. Finally.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Three weeks before debut everything was getting into place, songs were being recorded, choreography taught and practiced, outfit fitted and concepts set in place. So it wasn’t weird for Mari to be sitting in place getting her hair debut ready, but the look on her face said other wise. Mari is a girly girl at heart, she can be one of the boys and act tomboyish at times but she likes her long hair, getting her makeup done, getting her nails done, she likes dresses and heels. Most of those stuff she wouldn’t be able to wear or she’ll tone down when she debuted with the guys, she knew all that and she had no problems with it. It’s just hair she kept telling herself when she was told she’ll have to cut it, it’ll grow back. She almost convinced herself but then she saw how short they wanted it and it shocked her, all her hair would be gone basically, they wanted shorter than most of the guys, shorter than Jeonghan’s for sure. Just do it Mari and it’ll grow back, they promised to let you grow it out, but just cut it for debut and for every comeback it’ll be longer and longer.

Sitting in her chair staring at the mirror and bitting her lip, she nods to the hairstylist and the cutting began, her hair was in a braid to keep it together for the drastic cut. Even in the braid it almost reached her waist, her long black and thick hair was getting cut, letting one single tear was all she allowed. Think of the positive, one more step towards debut, look at your finger, look at the debut ring, your mum gave you that, all your members have identical one, come on hair is just hair, it grows, it won’t be gone forever. Her hair kept getting shorter and shorter, her head lighter and lighter. When Mari looked up when the stylist was finished, she admitted it wasn’t bad, just she never would’ve chosen it in her life. Her mum would hate it. Still she bowed to the stylist and left with her manager, all in the life of a trainee turning idol.

The boys will flip.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stuck With Me ~ KNJ [M] [Request]

WORD COUNT: 2K

PAIRING: Namjoon x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Smut, elevator smut, fluffy, silent treatment, public sex,

Sometimes Namjoon and you fought and when you did it would end up the silent treatment coming from one of you. Today it was Namjoon's turn to give you the silent treatment only you had no idea why. You couldn't even remember what had started the fight, to begin with. All you could remember was showing up to your lunch date and Namjoon being moody with you. Snapping randomly about you dropping your plate on the floor and it spiralled out of control from there.

"Please, Joonie what did I do? Why are you ignoring me?" You questioned as you both stepped into an elevator together. Staff members deciding to leave you both to it as they waited for the next one.

"Did I forget an anniversary? Birthday?" You quizzed, pushing the button that leads to his floor but he folded his arms over his chest in complete silence.

"Namjoon you're acting like a-" There was a huge sound of thunder before the lights began to flicker and the elevator trembled. Your hands were gripping onto the railing that lined the boxed elevator and Namjoon began frantically pressing the alarm but it wasn't doing anything. 

"Must be a power outage," You whispered as he continued to desperately push it over and over again until your phone rang.

"Yes, Hobi?" Namjoon glanced at you out of the corner of his eye when he heard you talking. Hoseok sounded relieved that you answered the phone, 

"Where are you guys? Jimin said he saw you heading for the elevators," You hummed looking around at the frozen elevator.

"Yeah, we're stuck in the second building's elevator..." Hoseok sighed as he looked over at manager Sejin who had been on the phone with the power company. A huge thunderstorm had taken out a bunch of buildings power,

"You're going to be stuck for a while, looks like a power outage in the city. There's a thunderstorm too." Whining you put your hand on your head wondering why this was all happening in the middle of silent treatment from Namjoon.

"Seriously? How long until we get out?" You needed answers but Hoseok didn't have them all, no one did. 

"Technicians can't get to us for two hours."

"Two hours?!" You yelled out as you stared at the wall in front of you, there wasn't much else to stare at.

"You have Joonie to keep you company," Scoffing as you watched your boyfriend you did your best not to laugh. Namjoon was too busy giving you the silent treatment to even think about speaking to you. Namjoon could hold a grudge when he wanted to.

"He's not much company when he's ignoring me," Hoseok chuckled remembering the bickering he had heard while he was in the canteen with you both.

"You'll have time to make up with one another then," You didn't need to see him for you to know he was smirking down the phone. The boys hated it when you fought about stupid things.

"Hobi." You begged, wanting him to stay on the phone with you but you heard him and the rest of the boys laughing. 

"Bye." The dial tone sounded and you stared down at your phone before looking to Namjoon. 

"There's a power outage...We probably won't get out for two hours." No change in Namjoon, all he did was sit down on the floor and lean his head back against the metal wall. 

"Did you even hear me?" You asked sinking down in front of him as you waited for a response but all he did was close his eyes. 

"You have to speak to me eventually," You told him as you stared at him once again. An hour had passed and the power supply to the building was still cut off. Namjoon barely moved as he sat there, he had been on his phone but that died around half an hour ago and now you were sitting in silence.

"I mean it's a shame you're not going to speak to me," You mumbled as you began pulling out your bag and glancing at your boyfriend who glanced back at you. He knew what was inside of that bag, everything in case of an emergency. Literally everything, snacks, first-aid kit, spare clothes, and water. Normally he would be the one to playfully mock you for carrying so much around with you but this was exactly why you did it.

"Namjoon," You giggled pulling out his favourite brand of snack bars, waving it in front of his face as he looked at you. 

"Speak to me and it's yours," You breathed out as you moved to sit by his side, laying your head on his shoulder. 

"Baby." You whispered as he reached for the bar but you inched it away from him, giggling as he stared at you. 

"Talk to me-" No talking happened, Namjoon simply smashed against yours as you whimpered. Feeling your heart racing as you were suddenly pulled onto his lap, his hands holding your hips as he whined. 

"That's a lot better than the silent treatment," You giggled as you rested your forehead onto his as you panted a little, 

"What's up with you, anyway?" You questioned as you ran your hand over his cheek and smiled weakly. Normally Namjoon would tell you anything that was bothering him but lately he hadn't. 

"It's stupid and nothing. I'm sorry," You sighed as he looked at you, you'd missed hearing his voice so much so you were glad he was finally speaking to you. 

"It's not stupid if it's bothering you that much," You told him as he began blushing. The truth was he had missed you, sure you had been around but the two of you hadn't been together in a long time and he missed it. He missed feeling you clamped around him, the two of you used to be inseparable.

"We haven't...We haven't you know...Done it in so long."

"Done it? What are you? 12?" You giggled as he grumbled something at you under his breath.

"Joonie...We stopped because we got caught," You reminded him of the last time you had been caught having sex in the building. Poor Jungkook was scared of life when he walked into the studio to find you pressed against the glass screen of the recording booth.

"No one is around now," He whispered as he ran his hand up your skirt, hiking up the ends as you whimpered. Looking around for cameras but there weren't any inside of the elevator and even if they were. It was a power outage, no one was going to see what would happen. 

"Joonie," You moaned out as soon as you felt his lips on your neck, biting and sucking on your skin as his hands rubbed your thighs. The boy knew just how to get you in the mood, he had you under his thumb. 

"Tell me you don't want this and I'll stop," He whispered in your ear as you shook your head, not wanting this to stop as you ground your hips down into his jeans. Moaning out at the contact, Namjoon chuckled softly. 

His lips moved to that one spot on your neck that made your legs clench together and he chuckled. 

"You love it," He whispered as he continued to suck on that one spot that turned you into a puddle. 

"Namjoon," You whispered tugging at his shirt as he shook his head at you, running his hand up between your skirt and rubbing you through your panties. Your head rolled back as your hips ground down against his hand. His free hand pulling at the thin fabric of your panties and snapping them off, 

"Joonie!" You yelled as you watched him tucking your panties into his pocket. Licking his lips he said nothing as he ground you down against his crotch whimpering a little. 

"Are you that needy?" You giggled as you raised yourself from his lap and undid the button of his jeans. Pulling him free from his boxers and giggling as you saw how red his cock was. 

"Joonie, how long have you been wanting this?" You ran the head of his cock through your folds, enjoying the sounds that left his mouth. Letting out small grunts of annoyance as you continued to tease him at your center, whimpering a little as you rubbed the head of his cock at your entrance. 

"You know I could just thrust up into you," He growled as you smirked down at him, watching as his hands reached up to grip the railing behind him. Moaning as you slowly eased down onto him. Instantly feeling filled as you moaned out his name and gripped his shirt. 

"Oh fuck," He grunted as his hands fell down to your hips, rocking you slowly as he began to moan out loudly. 

"You feel so good, tighter than I remember." He chuckled darkly as he began to buck into you faster, smirking as the lights flickered. 

"Lights are coming on princess...Four floors to get you to cum," He smirked as he got up from the floor, pushing your back against the wall of the elevator. 

"Think you can do it?" You teased as he smirked again, biting your neck harshly as his hips began to move at an erratic pace. Your hands gripped tightly into his shoulders, hard enough to leave a mark as you screamed his name out. 

"Look at that princess, we're moving." He chuckled as the elevator began to move up the floors, making you whimper. 

"Someone could walk in and see me fucking you." He chuckled reaching down to rub your clit with his thumb, grunting when he felt you clenching down tightly. 

"Namjoon...S-Stop we won't be able to-" You could barely finish your sentence as you shut your eyes, flickers of white spots filling your sight as you contracted around him. 

"Hmm? What was that baby?" You could hear the smirk leaking from his tone of voice as he continued to ram into you. Barely giving you time to think as your mind went blank. His fingers strumming against your clit until you exploded around him.

"I-I'm cumming!" You screamed gripping his shirt, ripping it just a little as you kissed him desperately. Riding out your high as Namjoon fucked into you until you were done. 

"What-" Namjoon couldn't finish his sentence as you suddenly dropped down in front of him and took him into your mouth. Wasting no time in moving your head almost as quickly as his thrusts had been, 

"Shit, your mouth feels so warm." He whispered as he pushed his hips against your face, helping you as he grunted loudly. 

Slipping him out of your mouth you pumped his length and smirked evilly, 

"One-floor left baby, you sure you can cum in time?" You smirked as you continued to pump, running your tongue along the slit of his cock when he suddenly thrust into your mouth. Gagging around him you smirked as you began to move your head, taking his sac into your hand and massaging softly just the way he liked.

"Ugh fuck...F-Fuck!" He grunted as his hand slammed against the mirror inside of the elevator and he came undone in your mouth.

Looking up at him you parted your lips to show him that you had taken the full load of him. Swallowing it slowly as you got up from the floor. A small ding from the elevator to signal you had arrived and Namjoon was rushing to chance himself.

"I told you that you would makeup," Hoseok said as you suddenly stepped out of the elevator and smiled, noticing Namjoon storming towards his studio sweating a little. 

"I have to go and sit with him," Excusing yourself you chased after Namjoon, preparing yourself for a second round with one another.

Tag list: @lyoongx @rms-moonchild @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @taestannie @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk @taeechwitaa​ @justbangtanthingz​ @stillwithlix​

[mourntheantagonist]

Happy Valentine’s Day Everyone!! It’s Finally the Day to share my piece for the @harringroveheart-on !! (If you didn’t already see it posted on ao3 yesterday)I went with the prompt: secret admirer!! enjoy some flangst and have a wonderful day whether you celebrate the holiday or not!! ❤️

Fortunately

read on ao3

***

Billy needs a job.

He’s two months fresh out of the hospital but that doesn’t matter. The local pool was closed for the winter and Neil was adamant that he get out and find work as soon as he was able to walk, despite the fact that he could only do so for only short periods at a time.

And he’s forced to take what he can get. January wasn’t the best time of year to be looking for work in Hawkins. He told himself he’d apply at any place with a help wanted sign displayed in their window. And he did. Application after application. Stellar fucking resume. The only problem was that not many people were looking to hire on the guy who looked just minutes away from death each time they saw him. Didn’t want to put the guy with the hideous scars and the sickly frame in front of customers. Though, they’d usually let him off with the same similar speech about how he “just wasn’t what they were looking for.”

Luckily for Billy, there was one place that was just as desperate as he was. Li’s Kitchen. The local Chinese restaurant that had just needed to make several layoffs to keep themselves from closing. They quickly hired him on to wash dishes in the back because he was ready and willing to work for minimum wage. Making just $3.35 an hour, it was enough and at least it got Neil off of his back.

So he’d haul his ass into work every day on the dot. Walking the full half-mile distance through snowy paths to the restaurant since the Camaro was still out of commission. Trudging along, praying he didn’t slip because his ribs were still fragile and just a simple impact of a good fall could break them again. The walk was simply exhausting. By the time he’d enter through those double doors and set off the bell hung above, he’d be completely out of breath and exhausted and his shift hadn’t even started yet. But fortunately it was just washing dishes. How hard could it be?

Apparently. Pretty fucking hard for a guy who could hardly stand up straight. The heat radiating from the hot steam of the water making him lightheaded almost instantaneously. The boiling hot water against his arms and hands sending him back to those days flayed out in the sun as the ultraviolet rays burned through the skin. The liquid dripping from his face that he couldn’t differentiate from steam or sweat taking him back to the sauna. Feeling his insides heat up and burn like fire inside his gut. Trapped in a prison that was his own body. He just wanted to crawl into a bucket of ice.

His only saving grace was that this time it was winter, and he wasn’t actually flayed. Just overheated and weak. He'd take his breaks behind the restaurant digging his feet into deep snow and letting the chill breeze cool him down. Lighting up a cigarette to get his body to an equilibrium of hot and cold. But the good feeling only lasted as long as he stood outside, immediately getting the same sick to his stomach feeling as soon as he walked back in. Hunched over the sink in the kitchen just trying to move fast enough and stay standing.

He figured he was lucky enough to get the job, that he couldn’t afford to disappoint, because then he’d be entirely out of options. Unemployed and still stuck under his father’s roof on Cherry Lane, this time accompanied by a deeper rage. If Billy didn’t have a job to get to, Neil would have no reason to hold back anything. No reason not to leave bruises or cuts. But it was getting harder and harder as the days progressed. Never enough time in the day to rest and recover enough to brave the next one. He was running on borrowed energy and excessive amounts of caffeine.

There came a moment when he nearly passed out into the sink full of porcelain plates. His breathing became shallow as his vision got blurry and dark. His head spun and his balance faltered and he needed a fucking drink of water.

One of the servers caught him just before he was about to go down. A man older than him but not by much. Same build as him before the accident but easily with an additional five inches on him. Billy was probably at least ten pounds lighter now that a bulk of his muscle had wasted away in that hospital bed. Making him easy to catch.

“You look like shit hargrove.” is what the man says, but Billy barely registers it because everything is muffled. The sounds of running water into the metal sink being the loudest noise he can hear. The man tosses one of Billy's arms over his shoulder and hauls him into the break room. Billy’s doing exactly zero of the work. Letting his legs fall limp and his feet drag against the tile floor. He sits him down in one of the metal chairs and hands him a small cup of water from the jug. “Drink you’re dehydrated” he says, tilting the bottom of the cup upwards so that it’s forced into Billy's mouth and down his throat. “The dinner rush is almost out, I’ll take care of the rest of the dishes, you just stay in here and try not to pass out again, sound like a plan?”

Billy nods his head and drinks the rest of the water in the cup before letting his head fall into his hands and his eyes fall shut as he tries to regain his composure. Cool himself down and slow his heart rate.

By the time his coworker — Zachary, he remembers — comes back into the break room he’s better. Not quite ready to get back to the sink and the hot steam cloud that comes with his job, but better.

“When’s the last time you’ve eaten kid?” Kid. Sounds really odd coming from someone who could be no older than thirty.

“I had toast this morning.” Billy hadn’t actually been eating much lately. Not finding the time in the day to sit down to have a meal in between work and recovering from said work. His hours conflicted with family dinner so he was left to fend for himself. Neil made it very clear that what was in the cupboards did not belong to him. So all he had to his name was a single loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter.

“Well guess what. It’s closing time and you’re not leaving here without a meal. So go sit down at one of the tables and pick anything you want from the menu.” Does Billy have pride? Yes. But is his stomach turning and his mouth watering at just the thought of some orange chicken? Also yes. So instead of arguing with him about how he can take care of himself, which is debatable at this point, he just says thank you and finds himself a table in the corner. He doesn’t expect Zachary to follow him all the way there and sit down right across from him.

“Don’t worry about paying. My dad will cook it up for free.”

Oh right. Zachary Li... The owner’s son.

And suddenly things went from awkward to outright uncomfortable for Billy. Because he was sitting here eating dinner with another man who would be footing the bill. Sure, Zachary was just his coworker and in his mind the exchange had absolutely no weight to it, but to billy it was so fucking heavy. The thought of Neil barging in to see the display and not giving two seconds to read the situation before he started throwing punches. Because it didn’t matter if it was a date or just dinner with a coworker. If it looked a certain way, then that’s how it was.

But the other thing was he couldn’t just get up now. Not without an explanation. So he sucked it up and said he’d have the orange chicken, earning a scowl followed by a laugh and a nod because of course he’d order that and none of the authentic chinese food dishes. But then he ordered the same thing because they both have fallen victim to american colonization.

And chef Li made a damn good orange chicken.

And this one did not disappoint. But it’s not like he really had the chance to taste it since he was too busy inhaling it. Finishing his entire plate before Zachary had even made a dent. And Billy was slightly embarrassed by it. But zachary said nothing. Just continued with his own meal without acknowledging that Billy had scarfed his own down in no time at all. Making other dry conversation with Billy and constantly refilling his water glass with the pitcher every time it got below half full.

When he’s just about finished is when chef Li brings out a small plate with fortune cookies sitting on top, one for each of them. They each take their own and crack them open.

“What’s it say? I got an inch of time is an inch of gold for the thousandth time. I swear elizabeth is getting lazy with these”

Billy looks down at his, and can’t help but laugh.

“A beautiful, smart, and loving person will be coming into your life.”

Hahaha. Hilarious.

“Well then we better hope that these things come true. Though I have a lot of time and have not seen any gold fall into my lap yet.” he laughs and pops the cookie into his mouth, Billy does the same. “Hey dad, you gonna open one?”

“Sure.” he says. Pulling one from the container in the back and breaking it open quite aggressively. “Allow compassion to guide your decisions. Boring.”

They both just laugh. But then Zachary gets this weird look in his eyes. “Hey dad? What if Billy made the fortune cookies instead?”

“Who would wash the dishes?”

Zachary just shot him a look. Yeah, Billy's medical condition and clear exhaustion didn’t go unnoticed by the staff. That must have been what that look meant.

“Read that fortune again, Dad.”

He looks down at the slip of the paper in his hand and almost instantly tosses it to the floor.

“You’re a pain in my ass Zach. alright then Billy, you available in the mornings? I can have Elizabeth show you the ropes tomorrow and if you’re any good you won’t have to wash dishes anymore. That will be my ungrateful son's job.”

“Hey-“

“No ‘hey’ nothing. Have compassion, remember?” he swats Zach with the towel that hung over his shoulder.

Billy just stayed silent for the whole exchange. Only nodding his head when asked if he was free in the mornings. He wanted to tell them to fuck off. To tell them he could do his job perfectly fine. A bold faced lie, but still. However, he also recognized that he couldn’t continue the way he was going. He was three shifts away from an ambulance ride to the emergency room, and that would just piss off Neil further.

So instead of speaking up, he silently agreed, and suddenly found himself walking the same distance he did every day, this time at seven in the morning when the rest of his house was still asleep. Another bonus. Less he had to see Neil, the better. And he’d be home in time for family dinner, the only meal he was welcome to join. And as much as he hated sitting across the table from his Dad, Susan's cooking served as a pleasant enough distraction.

Liz gladly showed him how to make the cookies. Constantly expressing how much she hated making them and is happily giving up the job to billy. That didn’t make him feel too great about it.

But then it really wasn’t bad. Just tedious. Slightly boring and mindless. Made his hands ache after a couple hours of folding the fortunes and squeezing out the batter, but it was ten times less painful than doing the dishes. He got to make them while sitting down at a table before the place even opened. No crowded kitchen or hot running water. The only heat he experienced came from opening and closing the oven, and that only happened for seconds at a time.

And the best part.

He got to make the fortunes.

Typing out several sheets of sample fortunes on a typewriter, cutting them into slips using the paper guillotine. It was definitely strange they never bothered to check his work. They had way too much trust in a guy like Billy to write fortunes. Free will to throw anything in there.

Did he ever veer away from the script posted to the wall? No. But the fact that he could was so funny to him.

He never once considered he would actually want to throw something else into those fortune cookies, until that first tuesday in the middle of his shift right as they opened for lunch and he saw a familiar figure enter through the glass doors into the restaurant. Bell chiming behind him. Craning his head upwards so he could get a closer look he recognizes Steve, picking up a to-go order still wearing the dark green family video vest. Steve didn’t even notice him. Just grabbed his white paper bag, dropped the bill on the counter, and walked out the door. Flashing a smile at Liz who was up running the counter.

But Billy, he saw Steve. He stared at Steve for the duration of his time in the store because he was totally and completely whipped. Totally entranced for long enough that the cookies he was folding had already hardened, and Zach was giving him a weird look when Billy visibly shook at the sound of the bell chiming for the second time, pulling him from the trance.

“So harrington, huh? He’s your fortune?”

Billy got all wide eyed and jerked his head to the right to look at him. Completely zoned out and unprepared to defend himself, instead just stuttering out a string of nonsensical “I”s and “no”s and “it’s not”s. Failing miserably to get the lies past his tongue.

“Relax dude. I don’t really give a shit. Elizabeth, however, might. Girl doesn’t stop talking my ear off about you.”

But that just goes in one ear and out the other. Billy still continues to stutter out as best of a denial he can but his heart is racing, his stomach is churning, his palms are sweating, and the cookies are burning!

“Shit.” it’s the first full sentence he’s been able to get out. Rushing over to the oven and pulling out the hot pan of nearly completely blackened circles.

And Zach is just standing there laughing. Waving the smoke out of his face as Billy tries to blow out the miniature fire he caused on one of the cookies.

“Still gonna try and deny it?” he says.

“Fuck off. Seriously.”

Zach just backs away. Hands in the air. “Okay, okay. I’ll mind my own business. Lover boy.”

Billy promptly tosses one of the finished cookies at his face. “Whatever you think you saw. Keep it to your fucking self, alright?”

“Got it. Loud and clear.” But he’s still fucking giggling and Billy is currently contemplating murder. Eyes darting to the array of knives in close reach. Shakes the feeling. Killing the boss's son probably wouldn’t look good on evaluation.

Did he tell anyone? No. Did he tease billy relentlessly about it every fucking day. Of course he fucking did. Especially on days Steve walked into the restaurant for a to-go order. Nudging him in the arm with a little “Guess who’s here?” in a sing-songy voice.

And to think Billy thought having someone know and not crucify him would be a good thing. He'd rather he just hate crime him behind the restaurant instead of the constant, and I mean constant, ribbing.

Eventually moving on from teasing behind the wall of the kitchen to suggesting he go out and take the payment to actually pushing him out the swinging doors to do it. “Talk him up Hargrove. Put on the moves.”

There were no moves. But there was a conversation. A good one. A nice one. They just talked about themselves and caught up. Not really seeing much of each other once he was out of the hospital. Only having seen Steve in passing on days he’d bring max by for visiting hours. But they never actually talked much during that time. He’d come up to the room with her saying “Thought it’d be nice to see another familiar face.”

And it was.

Billy was not paying much attention to this conversation. Answering Steve's questions and asking his own, but he was definitely distracted by how close their hands were to each other, both rested on the counter, supporting themselves. If you asked Billy after the conversation what they talked about, he could only recall two things. One; he works at family video, not really substantial. And two; he said he looked good.

“You look good Billy.”

Yup, Billy was completely gone.

So maybe the constant teasing wasn’t completely terrible. Especially now that he’s given him such a stupid stupid stupid idea that he’s one hundred percent going to go through with because it’s about fucking time he wrote some fortunes of his own. He had several typed out and ready to be placed into a cookie whenever they received another call for an order for ‘Harrington.’ The first one was innocent enough. Pulled straight off the list of sample fortunes.

“You always bring others happiness.”

Just something simple. He just saw it on the list and it made him smile. Thought it would be nice to see Steve smile too.

The next few were similar to that one. Pulled straight off of the list but tailored specifically toward Steve.

“You are working hard.”

“Have a beautiful day.”

“You look pretty.”

But that last one was different. Because on the back of the last one he wrote in ballpoint pen.

- The cookie maker ♡

And that’s when it became a thing that they were both aware of. Now it was a romantic gesture and not just an act of kindness or a series of coincidental fortunes. Now steve was on the lookout for who made the fortunes at Li’s kitchen, but at the same time trying to keep the mystery alive so that the fortunes would keep coming.

Billy started writing out his own.

“I like your hair.”

“You have a terrific ass.”

“Somebody’s got a crush on you.”

Zach wrote that last one.

Then they got deeper.

“You make me happy when I don’t think that’s possible.”

“You make the pain go away.”

Steve never failed to blush at each and every fortune with the signature heart on the back.

But it was dragging on. And Steve was getting impatient. Started to ask around, eventually learning that robin had seen Elizabeth Li making them one time.

Elizabeth Li is sixteen. Absolutely not.

And now he feels bad for letting it drag on this long. Taking himself to the restaurant to let her down gently. When he walks through, Billy is standing behind the counter. Confused because he didn’t usually order on Wednesdays, and especially not this late in the day.

Was that a weird thing to know?

“Do you have an order to pick up?” Billy asks.

“No. Not today. I was actually hoping I could talk to Elizabeth, is she around?”

And Billy's heart just sinks to the floor. The slight smile that was on his face now completely gone and shattered to pieces.

“Yeah. I’ll go get her.” he says, with a heavy heart, disappointment clear in his voice.

He sends her out to the front and lingers in the back, ear pressed to the door trying to listen in like some creep.

“Look, elizabeth. I’m really flattered and I appreciate the fortune cookies, but you’re way too young for me. I’m sorry.”

Shit.

Is Billy supposed to be worried or relieved?

He can’t even see her face but he knows she’d be giving him her death stare right about now.

He can hear her say it through clenched teeth and he shouldn’t find it so funny but it is.

“Yeah. Okay, sorry about that. I’ll definitely stop doing that. Have a good day Steve.” And she just walks away from the counter and Billy barely jumps backwards in time to not get a door slammed in his face.

“You better fucking fix this Hargrove. I am not going to go down for this for you.”

Zach had just walked into the kitchen from the break room. Chef Li and the rest of the staff are just minding their own business.

“What did I miss?”

Elizabeth is all up in Billy’s personal space. Inches away from his chest looking up at him from her height of just five feet and three inches.

“Steve fucking Harrington thinks I’m his little secret admirer.”

Her face is red in anger but Zach’s is red from laughing so hard.

“Now that’s fucking funny.”

“If you don’t tell Steve, I will. I covered for you out of the kindness of my heart, but I’m not that kind.”

“Isn’t that the truth.”

“Shut up Zach!”

Zach was laughing. Billy however, was suddenly not. Head now bowed, sighing heavily.

“I can’t do that.” It was a quiet and sudden change of tone that altered the mood of the situation entirely. The only people who could hear were just the three of them because the sound couldn’t overpower the noises of chopping vegetables and the clanking of pots and pans and the sizzle of cooking meat.

“Why not?”

“Fuck you. You know why.”

“Well what was your plan Romeo?! Were you just never going to tell him?” she threw her hands in the air like he was being ridiculous. The only thing that was ridiculous was that he ever went through with it in the first place.

“I don’t know. Okay? I don’t fucking know.”

Zach came up from behind him and offered a reassuring hand to his shoulder. “Look dude, my little sister is a bitch but she’s right. You have to tell him. I’ll have your back when you do.”

“Tomorrow.”

“What?” Billy jerks his head back down to look at Liz.

“Tell him. Tomorrow.” Her arms were crossed and she clearly wasn’t taking a no for an answer.

“Fuck the both of you. My shift is over.” Billy pushed past her and out of the restaurant. Leaving his jacket behind and walking home through the cold weather. His converse getting wet from the slushy snow, soaking through to his socks making him even colder all over. He’s internally freaking out and his heart would be beating out of his chest if his nervous system wasn’t operating at a decreased rate due to potential hypothermia.

He can’t even think. Just kicking his feet against the wet pavement letting the breeze take him over. If he dies, he doesn’t have to tell him.

Headlights pass him by as he slowly walks the distance home, nobody caring about the guy who cheated death just months ago inching closer back to that point instead of further away. Nobody stops to offer him a ride or even check to see if he’s okay, and he’s not even sure if he even wants to make it home. It would be preferable to just fall asleep in one of the bushes outside than having to make his day even worse by introducing Neil into it. Sitting at a dinner table, making nice and pretending like everything that was going well for him won’t come to an end twenty four hours from now. All the joy of making those little fortune cookies and just imagining the look on Steve’s face every time. The look he knew for sure was one of happiness despite never seeing it because it wasn’t a coincidence Steve’s lunch orders became more and more frequent.

But in his peripheral a set of headlights did seem to slow. That was either a sign he was meeting his savior, or potentially his kidnapper. Honestly at this point they are the same thing.

“Billy?”

You have got to be kidding me.

“Hey Harrington.” His teeth are chattering and his voice is shaky as he says it. Is it the cold? Or are his nerves finally beginning to work at the worst time possible?

“What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Walking home.”

“You’ll die out here.”

“If only.” He says it under his breath but Steve still hears it. Letting the car come to a complete stop rather than the slow pacing he was doing before.

“Get in. I’ll take you home.”

Billy just waves him off. “I’ll be fine on my own.” And he continues walking at his slow pace.

“I wasn’t fucking asking. Get the hell in Hargrove. Before I drag you in here.”

Billy stops and sighs. Kicking more slush into the air. “Fine.”

He walks around to the passenger side and lowers himself into the seat. Groaning as his body aches from the motion. Steve doesn’t acknowledge it. Just puts the car back into drive and heads towards Cherry Lane. Silence in the car as Billy breathes into his hands trying to warm them up. He’s pale. Looks like he’s never seen the sun before. His face is flushed. Even in the state like this Steve carries the same sentiment from that first conversation at the restaurant.

“You look good, Billy.”

He doesn’t say that. But he’s thinking it.

They eventually pull up to the white house with the screened in porch, and Billy grows visibly tense in his seat. He’s not moving. Just darting his eyes from the clock in the car and back to the house with the lights on.

“Everything okay?” Steve asks. But Billy’s eyes continue to move back and forth as his breathing quickens slightly more as each second ticks by. Showing no sign that he heard the words that came out of Steve’s mouth. He reaches over the center console and grabs his hand. “Hey.”

Billy looks over like a deer in the headlights. Eyes ever so slightly glossy. Clearing his throat he tries to speak.

“Can you take me somewhere else?” He asks.

He doesn’t want to go home. Can’t begin to even think about seeing his Dad today. He just wants to crawl under his covers and go to sleep. Dream of a reality that isn’t his own. Not this fucked up shit show he’s stupidly gotten himself into.

“Where?”

“I don’t know. Anywhere but here?”

Neither of them realize Steve is still holding his hand. Not until he squeezes it tighter, recognizing the pain in Billy’s voice. Not for what it meant but just that it was there. He didn’t need to nor want to know why Billy didn’t want to go home. Just wanted to make it so he didn’t have to.

“Is my house okay?”

Billy hesitates, but nods.

And they turn the car around.

- : -

Billy wakes up the next morning on Steve’s couch to the sound of a microwave’s hum followed by a loud ‘ding’ that echoes off the walls. He just remembers walking through the door of Steve’s house and immediately laying down on the first soft surface he could find. Remembers Steve saying he’d be upstairs if he needed anything before quickly drifting off into sleep without a care in the world.

He went to sleep without a pillow and a blanket, and woke up with both.

Billy rubs away at his eyes while Steve enters the living room from the kitchen with two plates in his hands.

“I made you a hot pocket if you want one.” He sets the plate onto the coffee table before he takes a seat in the chair beside the couch. Billy sits himself up and takes the plate, cooling it off with a quick blow of his breath before biting into it. “You have work today?”

“Yeah, at eight. What time is it?”

“Only seven fifteen. I have to be in at eight thirty so I can drop you off if you want.”

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s seriously not a problem man, and no offense but you don’t look like you’d make the walk from here to there.”

Billy laughs.

“I thought you said I looked good.”

Shit. It’s weird that he remembers that.

But Steve blushes. “Well yeah, just not ‘two mile hike’ good. But you’ll get there.”

“Thanks.”

“Why are you working anyway? Shouldn’t you still be recovering?”

Billy frowns. “My Dad is making me.”

Oh. That’s why he doesn’t want to go home.

The situation is awkward now. Silent as they finish their breakfasts and drive off in the Beemer. Pulling up outside the restaurant fifteen minutes before his shift starts. Billy suddenly reminded of what he’s supposed to do today as soon as he looks at the sign out front.

“Uh, hey. Listen. Come by the restaurant for to-go. On me y’know, as a thank you.”

“You don’t have to-“

Billy cuts him off.

“Yes. I do.”

- : -

When Billy walks into the kitchen in the same clothes as yesterday nobody says anything. Nothing about his undone hair or his or his early arrival to work. Instead he’s met with apologies exiting the mouths of the two Li children as they corner him in the break room.

“We’re sorry about yesterday. It wasn’t fair for us to do that to you. Elizabeth said she won’t tell Steve.”

They were waiting for him to yell, or at the very least get his anger out some way.

But instead Billy smiled. Barely there with just the slight upturn at the corners of his mouth but it was there, so distinct from his natural grimace. “It’s fine.” He says.

Zachary and Elizabeth are entirely confused. Looking in between each other like ‘did you just see what I just saw?’

“What has you so chipper?”

His smile just grew slightly wider.

“Spent the night at Steve’s last night.”

The two’s eyes grew to the size of saucers.

“You what!?” They both said in unison.

“Jesus! Not like that. I just slept on his couch.”

Billy could see the cogs turning in each of their heads. Trying to figure everything out like it was some complicated math problem. “I think I’m going to tell him. Today.”

“Really?”

Billy nodded, threw on his skull cap, and left the dumbfounded siblings where they stood. He had a fortune to write, and cookies to bake.

He was so meticulous this time. Making sure they were perfectly round circles, folded exactly in half. Throwing nonsense fortunes into each one. Avoiding the one sitting by itself on the table beside him. Too afraid to throw it into a cookie, each time he tossed in another basic off the list fortune was just Billy trying to talk himself out of it.

But he inches closer and closer to reaching the point of no return. First by putting in Steve’s lunch order. Next by finally slipping the fortune into a cookie. Next by slipping the cookie into Steve’s bag, and finally at the strike of noon, handing the bag to Steve, insisting he pay for it while Billy continuously denies him. Telling him to go enjoy his meal and stop arguing with him.

When Steve walked out the door Billy thought he could stop holding his breath. But he couldn’t let it out. Thought the anticipation lied with handing the meal to Steve, now feeling his breath caught even more now that he had. It was the anticipation of not knowing. He had to know.

But Steve left with the cookie still intact.

So he had to wait.

- : -

Steve brought his lunch into Family Video. The same thing he always ordered. Feeling a warm sensation in his chest at the knowledge that Billy knew his order. Fried rice and soup dumplings. Robin was there, waiting to mooch off of his food since she never bothered to bring her own lunch, but would also refuse to let Steve buy her anything.

If he didn’t know any better he’d think she liked him.

But he did know better not even to entertain that idea. She was just the girl who liked to eat Steve’s food because that’s just what she did. She’s standing there with her grabby hands, ready to start digging into his rice. She peruses through the contents of the bag and pulls out the plastic containers and the one fortune cookie that he always got.

“Did you let her down easy?” Robin asks, waving the cookie in his face.

“Yes. She was weird about it. But I guess she took it well.”

“Well that’s good. Can I have this one then?”

“Sure. Go for it. I don’t like them all that much anyway. I just like them for the fortunes.”

“Well then let’s see what Steve Harrington’s fortune is today, shall we?”

Robin cracks it open and gently pulls the slip of paper out from inside. Popping the cookie into her mouth as she pulls it taut so she can read it.

Her eyes squint. She pulls it closer to her face, just inches away like she can’t see what she’s reading. Like she’s confused.

“What’s it say?”

“Umm.” She just shakes her head. Mouth still full with the fortune cookie as she passes it along to Steve.

He takes it from her hesitantly, and a look of confusion washes over his face as he reads the words.

“I’m not Elizabeth Li.”

“What?” He says it mostly to himself, because what the fuck?

He turns it over and is expecting to see the same little signature. The vague ‘the cookie maker’ with the tiny heart.

Well the heart is still there.

But it says something else.

- Billy ♡

“Holy shit.”

- : -

It’s a painstakingly long rest of his shift. Doing the same old boring jobs like cleaning up, manning the front counter, and bussing tables when he’d finished the daily batch of cookies. It usually felt like a long five hours, but today it was excruciating. He could feel Zach and Liz’s eyes on him the whole time. Like they were watching intently so they didn’t miss the moment where he inevitably exploded from all the anxiety in his chest.

Billy’s constantly playing out different scenarios in his head. Steve barging into the store and punching him in the face being the one that’s the most prevalent. Occasionally letting himself get slightly hopeful and imagining the opposite.

But there was a third scenario he considered. That Steve just wouldn’t come back at all. Let him down by not even bringing him up. Robbing him of the closure he needs. He’d rather Steve just punch him in the face. That was a kind of rejection he could handle. One that gave him a reason to let go. Not one that left him hanging on by a single thread.

His shift is quickly coming to an end and he’s debating on how desperate he is to wait and linger around the restaurant with his small shred of hope that he comes back. His neck hurts from jerking his head towards the door every time the bell chimed. Hoping to see the boy with the chestnut hair walk through only to be greeted by another local he refused to learn the name of.

He’s losing his goddamn mind and he needs a fucking cigarette.

His shift comes to an end and he clocks out. Escaping to the back of the restaurant behind the dumpsters, lighting up a Marlboro Red and sinking his weight against the brick siding of the building. Feeling himself shiver when the heat of the flame warms the tip of his nose. Breathing in the smoke trying to regain some sense of calm that completely left his body as soon as he handed the bag to Steve. Too many hours on this high alert feeling that he can’t even recall what relaxation feels like anymore. Just accepts the burning in his lungs in the cold outside weather with just the hum of low traffic and the sound dripping gutters as the closest thing he’s going to get to that for the time being.

Finishing his cigarette, he tosses the bud into a puddle. Dragging a hand over his face as he prepares to walk back into the crowded restaurant that would feel completely empty because it was lacking the one fucking person he wanted to see.

He could go see him.

No he couldn’t. The ball already was in Steve’s court.

He opens the door and Zach is standing right there like he was waiting for him.

“What the fuck dude?”

“No. Shut up. Someone is in the break room waiting for you.”

Billy doesn’t get the chance to register his words before he’s being grabbed by the collar of his shirt and dragged and pushed into the room, where Steve is sitting at the table.

Just looking at him. Studying him.

“Look, Steve –“

“Stop.” He cuts him off. Continues to stare before hesitantly reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out what looks to be a ziplock plastic bag. Opening it and dumping the contents of it out on the table all while Billy is left standing there unable to speak, couldn’t even if Steve would let him. The ability to get words out being entirely suppressed by the sight of about ten slips of paper spread out on the table in front of Steve. Steve just looking back down at them and not looking back at Billy. Lost in another trance. He starts moving them around on the table. Moving them away from each other so that none are touching each other and they are all completely exposed. Steve smiles. Gets up from the chair.

Walks over to where Billy stands with his back pressed against the door, holding tightly to the handle for a quick escape. Steve moves so slowly, like he’s forging his plan with each step until their chests are just inches away from each other. Steve’s looking down, away from Billy’s gaze. Taking Billy’s hand in his, causing him to shudder. “You know I rushed over as soon as I could. Thanks for the lunch Billy.” Billy’s just silent and completely still against the door. Steve’s hold on him is loose yet he feels entirely restrained. “I can’t believe it was you.”

“I’m sorry.” Billy practically chokes on the words, prompting Steve to finally turn his eyes up toward him. Seeing how his eyes have grown glossy and his face has turned a pinkish color.

“What for?”

“That it was me.”

Steve squeezes his hand tighter, brings another to Billy’s cheek gently and Billy feels like he’s being suffocated under the touch. Like instead the hand is wrapped around his throat and pushing against his airway. But he leans into it. Steve’s touch is so soft and he lets his eyes fall shut to burn the sensation into his memory.

“Don’t apologize for that.”

His eyes are still closed when Steve moves forward and kisses him. Shooting open as soon as lips make contact and he suddenly stiffens like a board. It’s quick and chaste and he doesn’t get the opportunity to kiss back before it’s over.

“You can’t… you don’t –“

“But I do.”

“This isn’t a joke, Steve.”

“I agree.”

Billy’s left standing there. Rubbing at his lips that were just touching Steve with the pad of his thumb.

“I don’t know what to do.”

Steve smirks, moves back into Billy’s space so his breath is hot against his mouth.

“You could kiss me, asshole.”

Billy doesn’t need to be asked twice.

[unholyhelbig]

How about part two to the workplace Au you just did? Loved the first one!

A/N: Sure thing! I’m glad you guys liked the first one so much (You can read it here)

Request more prompts here | Read on ao3! 

Chloe could read the discomfort on Beca Mitchell’s face as soon as she unzipped the bag that she had picked up from the dry cleaners. She was struck with the instant scent of lavender detergent, fanning her hand over the outfit like she was picking the next lucky number for the lottery.

Beca had her hand on her chin, a flash of red made her head spin. She was in sweatpants and a grease-stained shirt. She figured that if she had ignored the date on the bottom of the flyer long enough, maybe Chloe would just forget.

No such luck.

“How did you find my apartment?” She asked, clinging to the door.

“It was in your file.”

“I feel like this is slightly illegal.”

“Slightly,” Chloe pushed her way through the door and looked around the apartment. It was kept in a shockingly messy state. Beca presented herself as someone who dotted every ‘I’ and crossed every ‘T’. At least, that’s how she was at work. But there was a leaning tower of pizza boxes and a couple of record sleeves strewn across the room. “You’re not even close to ready.”

“I forgot,” She let the door swing closed “what if we just ignore this PR bullshit and watch a movie instead. Technically I’m still socializing.”

Chloe turned on her heel and scanned Beca up and down. She hugged the bag close to her. “It would look horrible for me to ditch a party I planned.”

“Then you go. I’ll keep watch here.”

“Beca,”

The coder flopped down onto the pile of blankets at the far end of the sofa. She crossed her socked feet and waved her hand in the air as if asking Chloe to continue. For the first time tonight, she noticed the makeup and the slim fitted dress that hugged every inch of the woman’s curves. The black material made the sharp disdain in her eyes glow even further.

But goddamn it, if she wasn’t absolutely captivating. And she smelled lie oranges. Beca had half the mind to stealthy survey her fingers for any trace of a ring. She hadn’t done so in the office, but there was no man to be seen in them. She had blown her chance, she figured, by being her authentic self.

“Red isn’t my color.” She stared at the dress. It had a plunging neckline and would make her look pale. She wasn’t working with much, Chloe was kidding herself. She was also here three full hours before the dreaded thing was supposed to start.

“Just give it a shot. You promised.”

“Wrong. I considered.”

Chloe tossed the bag at her. The fabric was nice, soft against her fingers. She stared at the slight bit of lace and the little bag of gold jewelry that the woman had attached. A few rings and a necklace tipped with a triangle that practically pointed at her cleavage.

“Alright, whatever. I’ll shower.”

She hoisted herself from the couch and tried not to stare too long at the look of triumph on Chloe’s face. It was equally as infuriating as it was attractive. She grabbed a towel from the pile of unfolded clothes on the other end of the sofa and vanished into the back hallway.

Chloe stood like a statue until she heard the water running. Then her curiosity got the better of her and she started to glace around the space; the walls were slathered in charcoal grey and a few album covers were framed and tacked up. Beca had a record player and an extensive library of music. It seemed to be the only tidy thing in here.

She walked over to the couch and picked up one of the blankets. It smelled like detergent and whatever musk Beca radiated herself. She started absently folding, chewing the inside of her lip, so deep in thought that she hadn’t even realized that the shower had shut off and Beca padded into the room in nothing but a towel, still soaked to the bone.

She cleared her throat “Did you clean up?”  

“It’s a nervous habit,” Chloe turned and tried not to let her breath catch. The employee usually stuck with baggy sweatpants and even baggier shirts. They didn’t’ have a dress code at work and she border-lined pajamas with her outfit choices. But Beca? Beca had a figure. “You ready?”

“I’m at your mercy.” She grumbled, “But no eyeliner.”

“oh, come on.”

“You’re not getting close to my eye with a pencil, forget it.” She crossed her arms over her chest, not letting the towel slip in the slightest “Fine. But I’m doing it. Stop pouting.”

Chloe begged to differ. She didn’t pout. She didn’t’ want to push it any further though, so she nodded and grasped the dress before letting Beca lead the way to her room.

           Beca tugged uncomfortably at the hem of her dress as they exited the car. It had hiked up as soon as she sat down, but at that point, she didn’t’ care. The weather had taken a turn to the colder side and she just wanted feeling in her legs. A light dusting of snow had forced their driver to flick on the wipers and move closer to the glass to see past the haze of headlights.

Chloe grasped at her wrist absently, forcing her to stop shifting the fabric. Her hand was warm enough to shock her into complying, but not without a glare. They looked like quite the pair; Beca was almost the same height as Chloe with the heels that were supplied, and she stood out horridly. Red like blood on the snow after a fresh hunt.

The company had spared no expense with the carpet, purple like their logo and leading into a lavish lobby in a hotel that Beca had never been in. She was sure they would throw her out if she walked in and asked to use the bathroom with fancy soap. But when Chloe was at her side, looping her arm through her own, she could pass instantly.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Chloe read the blush on the woman’s cheeks “I’m sure if I weren’t holding onto you, you’d be face down on the floor by now. Take it slow.”

“You sound like a stage mom.”

“In that case,” she frowned “You’re a horrible student.”

Beca scoffed but was secretly thankful for the human crutch. Chloe had an easy way of walking about her, she pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin, and acted like she owned the whole building. It was one foot in front of the other, and Beca wobbled on the first few, but eventually evened out. Maybe the stance was a tactical thing- to keep the balance.

They walked through the doors and Beca instantly felt her legs wobble at the direct warmth. There was a clothed table by the entrance, lined with identical masks. Chloe plucked a red one off the table and passed Beca a black one, looking at her expectantly.

“The whole purpose of this is for you to get comfortable being around people. Maybe you can do that if they can’t see the top half of your face.” She spoke with ease as she knotted her own mask. And she had to admit, even though this was utterly stupid, she wouldn’t have recognized Chloe in a crowd. Not if she hadn’t spent the last four hours with her.

She fastened her own mask and took Chloe’s outstretched hand, begrudgingly but thankful at the same time; the ballroom was equally as impressive, violet lights on an installed dance floor and clothed tables with little favors and plates. It looked like a wedding for bank robbers, but Beca couldn’t help letting her mouth prop open.

“Shocked?” Chloe asked, scanning the décor “I do know how to throw a hell of a party.”

“The last party I went to was not this classy.” Beca breathed “We did have bongs made out of apples though, so I’m going to need you to step up your game.”

Chloe smiled, it looked brighter under her mask. She leads them towards a table in the corner and plucked two flutes of champagne from the passing waiter. Alcohol. That was something that Beca wasn’t opposed to. She finished it in two long gulps.

She hovered awkwardly by as the woman who had dragged her here in the first place spoke with a couple of people that she wouldn’t have recognized even if they were shrouded by masks. They shouted over the music; a man in a snazzy looking suit questioned her presence.

“This is one of the most talented coders we have!” Chloe shouted over the sound of the base “Almost single-handedly created the VPN.”

“You’re impressive!” He called out to her “Such a pretty date too!”

Chloe just laughed and Beca thanked him over the bass. He squeezed Chloe’s shoulder before vanishing into the crowd. She leaned close then, her breath hot against Beca’s collarbone, and that familiar floral scent clouded her lungs and judgment. “See, that wasn’t so hard. You’re a natural. Want to dance?”

She did not, in fact, want to dance. But Chloe pulled her onto the floor almost as smoothly as the champagne glasses. Beca was glad that she had swallowed it so quickly. It made the idea of dancing seem more appealing. And Chloe did have good taste in music.

They worked themselves into the crowd and Beca let the sound flow through her. She ignored all of the people, for the most part. Chloe was painfully obvious behind her, grinding close, running her hands across the dress that she had picked out. Beca felt like she was back in college- and she had to admit, she was having fun.

She lost track of how many songs they had danced to, but eventually, the DJ lowered the music and spoke into the microphone. “Alright folks, we having fun? I hope so! I want to interrupt your masquerade for just a moment.”  

There were a few groans from the crowd, but none of them sincere.

“Now, I know you’re all being secretive about your identities tonight. But I want to pull the one and only Chloe Beale onto the stage. Y’all okay with that?”

There were a few shouts from the people around her, followed by applause as Chloe gave Beca’s arm a squeeze and maneuvered her way through the crowd. A woman in an even tighter navy blue dress helped her up the stage and Beca clapped along, lilting her head as she watched, captivated like the rest of the room.

This didn’t’ feel customary, bringing the party planner up to say a few words. Not when it was essentially a giant PR event for a tech company. Beca crossed her arms over her chest as Chloe captivated an entire crowd.

“I’m glad you’re all having fun under the cover of the night,” She lowered her voice dramatically, flashing that brilliant smile. “And we’re so happy to unveil our new VPN, that everyone has been working so hard on.”

It had been months of coding, Beca having to fix so many bugs that the 0’s and 1’s ran circles around her head. Hearing praise from Chloe’s lips made her tingly- or maybe that was the buzzing of her skin after eating cold pizza for breakfast and drinking on a nearly empty stomach.

“We strive for innovation and protection, and our new product can give you just that.” She gripped the podium and waited for a few cheers to settle “When I first started this company in my parent's basement, which doubled as our laundry room, I never imagined this. Thank you, and enjoy the party!”

Beca’s heart had seized in her chest then, as the music started up and the people around her moved with the rhythm once more. She let them bump into her as she mindlessly walked to the edge of the lit-up floor, towards Chloe.

This made sense to her, finally, it made sense. The reason why she was pushing her so hard to interact with other people in the office, why she didn’t have a title on her door. Chloe was the boss. Chloe had seen her ratty apartment and, oh my god, Chloe knows she smokes weed.

The woman in the navy dress talked animatedly to the woman at the side of the stage, nodding and gesturing to the rest of the room. Chloe looked pensive, she mumbled something under her breath and immediately turned towards Beca.

“Dude, what the hell?” She asked, sounding less elegant than she’d hoped.

Chloe shrugged “Stacie from HR wanted to talk to you first but I thought I’d give it a shot.”

“This is literally your party.”

“Yes?”

“Like in your honor. Not something you planned.”

“Well, I did that too.” She shrugged nonchalantly as Beca gaped at her “Look, Beca. I like you, okay? You’re one stubborn girl. And I wanted to spend a night with you, is all. When the report about your lack of social skills happened across my desk, I took a chance.”

She felt her cheeks heat up “You could have just asked me, you know?”

“Would you have said yes?”

“Absolutely not,” She pointed her finger “But only because you’re making me wear a dress. Maybe next time, we could just settle for street tacos or something?”

Chloe laughed, and it was a beautiful sound that mixed so perfectly with the music. “Next time?”

[the-revenging-angel]

JacobBlackXfem-human

Part One

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I did it!!!!! I posted the first chapter of the Jacob Black story and am pretty proud of it. Anyway, feedback is always appreciated and thoughts about the story.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ♔ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Chatter was all over the bar as people slurred their words and order another round. "Oh god, he looks young" my friend Kiki murmured, I follow her gaze to see a young man hunched over the bar with bottles around him. "I got him," I say, her eyebrows furrow "are you sure? He looks like a mess," she whispered, I drop the cloth on the counter and smile at her as I walk down to him.

"Hey, are you okay?" I ask him, my eyes focusing on the bottles of some pretty strong stuff. The guy looks up, his soft brown eyes looking at me with sadness, they widen when meeting my own soft green, he freezes when seeing me. "Do you need some help?" I ask him softly, his gaze softens.

"I'm Jacob," he said shakily, I smile sweetly and place a hand on his forehead, he leans into my touch and I gasp at his temperature. "Let's get you out of here," I say, moving my hand down to hold his cheek as he muzzles into my touch. I look at Kiki and she smiles before turning and clocking me out as she goes back to work.

I clear the bottles and pay for his alcohol as Kiki brings me my bag. "Taking in another stray?" She joked and I look down at Jacob, "he needs help Kiki," I reply, she shakes her head. "You're too nice, it scares me sometimes," she said before walking away and I help Jacob out the door. My apartment was only three blocks away so I never really used my car.

"Come on," I say, my our footsteps shaky at his weight and muscle. "What's your name?" He said, surprisingly not slurred. I smile at him "I'm Katrina but my friends call me Kathy" I say softly, he smiles wide. "Everyone calls me Jake" I chuckle "well you can stay at mine for tonight Jake, I don't want you getting hurt" my eyes see my apartment building and I pull him closer.

His lips lift "I'm so lucky" he murmured, I laugh softly and turn to him. "I just don't want you getting hurt okay?" He nods.

We reach my apartment and I push him inside and close the door before pushing him down the hall and into the bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up," I say, he nods "I'll be right back, okay?" I ask placing him on the toilet but he reaches out and holds me close, his body filling my cold one with warmth. "Stay, please" he begged, I lick my lips "let me grab you a towel and then I'll come back and help you," I say softly.

He shakes his head and pulls me closer "don't leave" he murmured, my chest aches and I bring my hand up and softly drag my nails across his scalp. A tired groan falls past his lips, I slip out of his hold and quickly walk around to the linen cupboard to grab a towel, a towel of baby blue resting in my palm.

I walk back into the bathroom and freeze when seeing tears fall down his face, "oh baby" I say walking towards him. I wrap my arms around him and hold him "it's okay, your okay" I mutter, his arms come around and hold me tightly.

"Let's get you cleaned up" I mutter softly, after a couple of minutes. I pull his shirt off and undo his zip and pop his button, slowly pulling them down his legs. He pulled off his underwear and tugged his shoes off as I run the bath, dropping vanilla salts in the water and applying pomegranate soap, forming pink bubbles.

"It's all ready," I say turning back to him, my eyes trained solely on his eyes as I hold a hand out for him, he takes it without a thought and I help him into the bath. I get down on my knee's beside it and bring out a fluffy loafa to dampen his skin.

I apply honey soap to the loafa and spread it down and across his back before moving to his chest. "I'm 19 and work part-time at the bar, I don't have a family and like to keep my head down while living alone," I say softly handing the bubbly loafa to him with a smile. He stares into my eyes before taking it from me and starting to wash other parts of him.

"I-" I place a hand on his shoulder and he looks up at me. "I just wanted you to know that I'm not going to hurt you, you can tell me about yourself tomorrow at breakfast okay?" He nods slowly, I wash the soap off silently, Jacob and I taking in the comfortable silence as I try to not hurt him.

I lend him some clothes from my fathers before taking him to my bedroom. I close the curtains that didn't let light in anymore and pulled the covers back, "are you hungry?" I ask he shakes his head. I hold a hand out to him and he takes it as I place him softly on the bed.

"Stay here while I get you some water," I say softly, my nails softly raking across his scalp once again before he could protest. I walk to the kitchen and grab a glass of water before going back to my room and seeing Jacob look at me, his shoulders relaxing. I hand him the glass "could you drink some please?" I ask, he nods taking the glass, my eyes widen then seeing him hand me the empty glass.

"Well done," I say shakily before placing the glass beside him. "Is this your bed?" He asked quietly, I nod "hope I don't smell too bad" I laugh, his eyes soften "you don't smell bad at all, it's a sweet scent" I smile at him, "thank you" I whisper before I stand "we'll talk in the morning okay?" He nods.

I walk out of the room and to the bathroom, grabbing his clothes I chuck them in the wash before doing a small tidy up. 'Who could hurt someone like that?' My mind wandered I shake my head 'he'd tell me when he's ready' I told myself sharply.

I have a shower before grabbing a blanket and spare pillow from the linen closet and walking to my couch. My eyes fall shut almost instantly and my mind shuts down as the thoughts stop going through my head and I fall asleep.

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I hear his footsteps before seeing him, placing the last piece of bacon on the plate before pushing it the edge of the bench and looking up at his warm chocolate eyes no longer held in a daze of alcohol and heartbreak.

"Morning" I smile sweetly, his eyes land on me immediately "morning" I grab a glass before opening the fridge and pouring orange juice. "You should eat, you drank a lot last night, I'm surprised your standing" I laugh placing a fork and knife across the counter and next to the plate.

"I can take a lot," he said, I raise a brow "a lot of people can" he smiles before walking over and sitting down. I grab my cup of coffee and see his stuff food into his mouth "you can stay for as long as you like" he looks up at me, eyes wide.

"Why are you so nice?" He asked, I meet his eyes and stare into them before placing my cup down and standing across from him, the bench keeping us apart. "I believe someone hurt you, repeatedly maybe, toyed with you until you were on the ground and breathing those toxic fumes of the person who couldn't let you go and I was taught the only time you look down at someone is when you help them back up"

His eyes widen as they look up at me with warmth, I move my hand forward and place it on his "so I'm here to help to help you back up"

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Soooo what does everyone think?

Your lovely writer

Bethany

[whichwaytowonderlandep]

Every Little Part Of Me | Ch. 1

⇒ Pairing: (Taehyung/Reader/Namjoon)

⇒  Genre: Angst, Romance, Smut

⇒ Words: 5,316

⇒ Tags: Noona Reader, University AU, Stalker AU, SMUT, Husband! Namjoon, Student! Taehyung, passionate sex, oral (receiving), lots of confusing shit.

Chapter One 

You hug your coat closer to your body, as your feet hurriedly make their way down the dark and empty halls of the arts department. The echo of your heels reminding you of just how badly your feet were hurting, as the effects of a full day of work hits you like a truck.

As always, you were the last one of the professors to leave the building— and while you didn't mind helping your students out at the last minute, because that is one of the things you love about your job, the extra hours you were putting in were starting to catch up to you. The dark circles under your eyes, that not even makeup could cover, were a true testament of that.

Your body shudders as soon as you open the large wooden doors, the feel of the almost-winter air crawling right under your coat and over your skin making you wish you hadn't lend your car to your sister this morning — maybe you could’ve gotten home and under the covers a whole lot sooner, snuggling up on the couch with some hot chocolate and a good book.

You smile softly towards the security guard as you pass through the school gates, waving goodbye as you walk past. Walking home in this weather would be torturous and somewhat idiotic, but it seemed now you had no choice — a cab is a must right now. So, you stick your gloved hand out in the air and waved down a taxi cab, telling the driver your address as you step into the vehicle. Leaning back against the seat, you watch with tired eyes as buildings pass and street lights blur as your shivering body takes in the warm air blowing through the vents.

The weight of the day comes crashing down, and the rocking of the car slowly lulls your mind into falling asleep with each second that goes by —that is, until the cab stops at the bottom of the hill and you realize you need to walk the rest of the way.

A whole twenty minutes of walking in the darkness.

You pay the driver as you step out of the car only to watch him peel off down the road as you turn and make your way up the small hill. The streets were almost empty save for the occasional restaurant owner closing the shop for the day.

You quickly make your way across the street, knowing that your best friend, Ramona, would still be at her bakery, preparing all kinds of treats for the next work day.

“Hey babe!” Ramona sends a smile your way as she slides one of the half-filled trays of leftover goodies out of the glass displays in front of you. “Just give me a moment, I have a few pies in the oven. Just come around back” She smiles before she hurries off into the kitchen. 

“You got anything leftover goodies from today?” You yell out, dropping your purse on one of the chairs in front of you before sliding off your coat and bag bringing it on the back of the same chair. You quickly make your way into the kitchen, instantly getting hit with the smell of cinnamon and apple. “Shouldn’t you be getting home by now?” You ask her, picking up one of the chocolate chips sitting on the counter in front of you.

“I was, but one of the guys cancelled on me last minute And with the holidays right around the corner, I can’t leave things enough for the very last minute.” She babbles frantically as she moves from stirring something to check on the oven and plating treats on their respective trays. “So, now I’m stuck preparing for tomorrow. He didn’t even have a good excuse.” Ramona grumbles. 

She stops suddenly, finally slowing down long enough to look at you. “Long day?” She finally asks, grabbing onto the bowl in front of her, “You look like shit”

“Gee, thanks.” You pose cutely for her, “Where are my leftovers, woman?” You jokingly say getting straight to the point as you look around for that little white box with the light pink bow on it that holds every delicious thing known to man.

“I knew it! You only like me for my desserts” Ramona gasps jokingly, “and here I thought it was because of my good looks and charming personality.” Ramona continues sarcastically as she pulls out the box filled with little slices of heaven from under the counter. “Here.” She hands it over before asking, “Where’s Namjoon? I thought he would’ve been there to pick you up after class.” She frowns slightly, “Isn’t your anniversary coming up?”

“Uh…” You clear your throat at the sudden question, “He had to work overtime, the office needed him for something or other. I can’t remember what exactly.” You ramble off as you open the box of what seems to be chocolate chip cookies and stuff half a cookie in your mouth. 

You and Namjoon were sort of a sore topic these days, as in you never like when people brought him into the conversation. It wasn’t that you hated him, he was your loving husband after all, you just didn’t hear from him much because he was always working – it was rare for the two of you to even be home at the same time, let alone have dinner together. You know he worked to provide a good life for the two of you, you just wish he was actually there to live it with you at least once in a while. 

“Really? I haven’t seen him around in a week.” Ramona frowns, “Everything okay with you guys?”

You love Ramona, you do - but sometimes your best friend puts her nose in your business way too often than it should be necessary. You couldn’t complain though, considering she always gave you the best advice you could ever receive. Though this time, you had already decided to keep what was happening between you and Namjoon all on your own. 

“Everything’s fine with us. I need to get going, I need to get home.” You reply, closing the box in front of you, checking your watch in passing. “Thanks for the cavities. I’ll see you.” You tell her before you make your way out of the kitchen, leaving your very confused best friend standing staring at the back of your head — wishing you would come back and finish the goddamn conversation for once. 

The weather didn’t seem to lighten up at all in the thirty minutes that you spent inside the bakery, if anything the darker it got colder it did as well. So you hurriedly made the short trip up the rest of the hill. There was something about your neighbourhood that you just loved about. Maybe it was the fact that it was so colourful and full of life during the day, while at night it became quiet and serene, the drawings that adorned the walls still gave it its own personality. 

Not to mention the years of history along the walls - being only thirty minutes away from the university meant a lot of artists left their marks on them. And the deeper into the neighbourhood you went, the older the paintings were.

Growing up here, you had also left your mark when you were younger and although you never actually told anyone, you were proud of what you had created. You don't know why you decided to keep it a secret, maybe it was the fact that it wasn't really a cop friendly activity that might've done the trick. But you wanted people to know your art, not the person behind it. 

Your husband on the other hand wasn't from around here. And when you refused to move away, you received plenty of complaints on his part - until he noticed how close the university was and the lack of traffic to his job, lack of neighbors. He didn’t have to be friendly in the sense that when he was at home – if he ever was home, he could kick back and relax. 

Your thoughts stopped suddenly as you walked past your favourite mural, it was old with its paint already fading and it wasn’t all there anymore, but for you, every time you looked at it, it felt like the first time you had given the idea life. Every stroke showed emotion, a story waiting to be told. There was no other like it, not by the same person at least — what you wish to go back to that time, to be young and naive once more. 

The minutes, unknowingly, slowly slip away from you as you stood in front of the graffiti-covered wall. Your phone’s sudden ringing from inside your purse snapping you out of it. Your eyes flicker for a second in the darkness as you take out your phone, your husband’s name lighting up the screen. Taking a deep breath, you slide your thumb across the screen and check your messages.

New Message

[6:36pm] Hubby: Something came up at work, I’ll be a bit late home tonight.

You read the message repeatedly; it was the same message he had sent two nights ago, and a week before that. It had become customary now to receive the same text, with the same wording every single time. And every single time he ended up staying in a hotel they had a meeting at or flying out to some other country leaving you to wake up to an I promise to bring you something nice or The boss gave me no choice text from him. 

You could say that you were used to it by now, you didn't question it as you didn't really think anything of it. You were in your own little world and you would stay there if needed to. 

You continue making your way up the stairs, looking out at your house in the distance; the exhaustion from being on your feet most of the day becoming more and more prominent with each and every step.

Hoisting your bag over your shoulder as you reach the front gate, your fingers trembling as they punch in the security code. “Oh, come on!” You mumble to yourself, the cold air making you run towards the front door, desperate to escape into the warmth of your house.  

You let out a deep breath, rubbing your hands together as you try to get your cold fingers to warm up. You throw everything on the couch, feeling too lazy to put everything in its place as you take off your soaked black coat and toeing off your muddy shoes before leaving them by the entrance.

“Home sweet home” You mumble under your breath as you switch the lights on in your completely empty house. You had given the maid the weekend off, knowing you wanted to stay completely alone. The reason being so you could work on your art without any distractions, not to mention all the classwork you had to catch up on.

You make your way into the kitchen, picking up the sticky note stuck on the microwave from your maid – you read it over, learning that she had left you something for dinner tonight and thanking you for giving her the rest of the weekend off. You happily warm up the food as you take a seat on the very large glass dining room table. 

Growing up, you had thought you would’ve made something of yourself by now. You had ambitions of traveling the world and viewing famous pieces of art and taking pictures of anything and everything. You wanted to meet with artists and be surrounded by different cultures. But that exciting part of your life was no more than a distant memory. This was your life now. You just had to find a way to come to terms with the idea. 

You don’t blame Namjoon, even if you had given all of that up when you decided to stay and marry him. You didn’t have to do any of this, and he didn’t ask this of you. You made this decision all on your own – there was no one to blame, but yourself in this situation. 

As the week passed by, you couldn’t help but settle into the same routine. You woke up early in the mornings, sometimes before the sun was even up, and went for a run around the neighbourhood. You ate breakfast, spent most of your day at school, then returned home late to grade papers. You did this repeatedly, day after day, until the weekend came along.

After a while, you had gotten used to being alone in the large house. You had already decided to spend the beginning of your weekend by relaxing and watching some TV before you had to really wrap yourself around your work. These papers weren’t going to be grading themselves and the more you push it off to the side the more work you would have later on. 

You took another sip of your tea, feeling content with how the now fully coloured canvas, you hum to yourself in content as you place down the brush on the table beside you.

You live for moments like this. Moments where you could just sit back and relax, not having to worry about anything or anyone. You love your job, there’s no regrets in what you were doing, but that nagging feeling in the back of your mind telling you could be doing more with your life was hard to ignore.

Art was the only way you could really express yourself without having to say anything, the pictures you took and the paintings you created spoke for you. They forever encase your emotions and your thoughts and are often your escape from the real world - giving you a place to create one of your own.

The moment is interrupted when the doorbell rang throughout the house. You pick up one of the rags next to you, frowning at the sudden intrusion. You weren’t really expecting anyone, especially not this close to dinner time.

“Hello, can I help you?” You question as the woman in front of you smiles brightly. You scratch the back of your neck when you remember you were wearing one of Namjoon’s old shirts, and it was covered in fresh and old paint.

The woman in front of you bursts out laughing, “(Y/N)! It’s so good to see you after all these years!” She squeals before throwing her arms around you, enveloping you in the tightest hug ever. You remained stiff in her arms when she began to jump up and down in, what you assumed to be, excitement.

Holding you at arm’s length, she moves your confusion from side to side, “You look so much older and prettier! Oh my, how we’ve both grown!”

“Do I know you?” You let out in a soft whisper, finally able to speak when the woman in front of you lets you get a word in.

“Oh! Right, I’m Namjoon’s sister. Well...estranged sister, we don’t really talk that much.” The woman continues to ramble on and on about how her family and Namjoon split when he decided to go in a different direction than the farm — even though you had already heard this story before from the man himself.

You haven’t heard much of anything about the missing sister, considering they just never mentioned her again. And frankly, the only reason you knew her name was because of your incessant ability of not letting things go.

“I’m sorry, I ramble when I’m nervous…” You watch as Hyuna glances back out towards the street with a troubled look on her face, which makes you become worried in return.

“Everything okay?” You ask her, finally opening the rest of the door and gesturing for her to come in. “Come on in, it’s warmer inside.” You offer her as the cold air hits you straight in the face.

“Oh, no. I’m sure Namjoon already told you, he told us to come whenever we were ready and... well, we’re ready!”

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Well...Didn’t he tell you? Namjoon told me he was going to take care of his nephew, Taehyung, from now on, or at least until final exams. Taehyung has been in some trouble, so after contacting my brother, we agreed on my son coming here to live with you.” She continues, leaving you to take everything she just said in. Your husband hadn’t spoken to you in days, so of course he never mentioned any of this.

“We’d like for Taehyung to actually graduate this year. But ever since he found out he was adopted...it’s like he has decided to rebel, go against everything we ask and expect of him.” Hyuna sighs, “The divorce isn’t really helping things out either.” She mumbled under her breath before flashing you another megawatt smile, the bags under her eyes further accentuating how tired she was. “Namjoon agreed, and suggested Taehyung should have a change in scenery and repeat the year under his watchful eye.”

Watchful eye, my ass! He’s barely here as it is. — you think to yourself.

“Oh, did he now?” Your smile widening, while internally you were thinking about how you were going to kill him and get away with it.

“Well, I’m sure Namjoon already went through everything with the both of us so why don’t we get Taehyung settled in?” Hyuna asks you, her questioning smile erasing your thoughts of murdering your husband the instant you realize the boy was here.

“Wait, he’s here?” You frown in her direction, eyes following the taller woman as she gets up from where she’s seated and heads back out the door.

You stand in your doorway, watching with curious eyes as she stands by the passenger door – knocking lightly on the glass.

The boy inside glared at her, grumbling to himself as she continued knocking on the glass. It took a few minutes before he finally got fed up with her insistence, and reluctantly climbed out of the car.

He was clearly taller than Hyuna, with somewhat long, black hair that hung in front of his eyes. He was still in his school uniform, which made you guess this entire move was a surprise on his mother’s part.

Taehyung glanced around at the big houses surrounding him, a stark contrast to the ones back home. He never understood why rich people always wanted more space, he saw it as something completely unnecessary. Letting out a long sigh, he begrudgingly follows along when his mother grabs onto his arm and pulls him towards his uncle’s house.

Taehyung never met the man in question, he only knew what he looked like from the pictures in old family albums his mother kept hidden away in the basement.  

“Hello! You must be Taehyung!” You greet him with the biggest welcoming smile you could muster. You extend your hand out, watching the taller boy approach with a straight face and bored demeanour.

Taehyung only keeps walking, past you and through the open door – never letting out a word in either direction. “Don’t take it to heart, he’s not really that much of a people person.” Hyuna says as you awkwardly put your hand back down, nodding to yourself as you look back at the nineteen-year-old moody teenager looking around the spacious house with a look of indifference.

“It’s okay, I get it” You smile at Hyuna, “I’m sure he’ll fit in right away. Probably” You sigh out, feeling unsure of yourself as all the stress of the semester crashing down on you. You knew you still had a few more papers to grade your little break you took was not enough to make you feel even a little bit relaxed. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”  You ask her, closing the door behind her as the two of you follow Taehyung into the house. He still had on his coat and his backpack strapped to his back - as if looking for a hole to escape through. 

“That would be lovely!” Hyuna immediately agrees as she runs to him, wrapping her arms around the tall boy’s arm and dragging him into the kitchen.

You have no idea what you had just gotten yourself into, or what Namjoon was even thinking when he agreed to any of this – why would he do that in the first place without even mentioning it to you was beyond your understanding, the man was barely here in the first place.

You take another big breath before you slap on that big welcoming smile before you follow them into the kitchen. You were seriously going to kill Namjoon next time you saw him. 

//

You collect the dirty plates, a big smile on your face as you look at Hyuna’s face as she finishes shoving the last bite of food into her mouth. Groaning as the flavour hits her taste buds, “That was an amazing, best meal I’ve had in awhile.” Hyuna continues, praising your cooking as she puts her stomach. You move back towards the kitchen, quickly glancing at the boy sitting at the other side of the table – he hadn’t uttered a word the entire night, pushing his food around his plate as his music continues blasting through his headphones.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, I haven’t cooked for so many people in such a long time.” You smile at the compliments, walking back to the table until you were standing right next to Taehyung. He looks up at you,his naturally puppy dog eyes looking at every inch of your face. “Are you finished with your dinner, honey?” You don’t miss the eyebrow raised at the mention of the pet name, before he pushes the plate towards you in a silent ‘yes’. 

Taehyung’s eyes stare at you the moment you walk away, going completely unnoticed by Hyuna and you as you set down the plates in the sink and turn on the tap.

“I should probably get going...” Hyuna hints, glancing at the clock on the wall before she’s grabbing onto her purse on one of the kitchen stools. You dry your hands on your apron, moving to stand beside her. You watch as she gives her son a hug, and leaves a lipstick stain on his right cheek, getting no reaction from the boy before she sighed sadly. “I’ll miss you, Tae. We’ll see you soon I promise.” You walk beside her as you accompany her to the front door, watching as she waves goodbye to her son one last time before she’s pulling you into an unexpected hug before quickly walking down the long driveway.

As you close the door, you take in a deep breath, wishing this was not all happening so quickly in such little time. You walk back into the kitchen only  to find Taehyung no longer sitting in the same position. But rather sitting on the couch in the living room, hugging his dark blue backpack to his chest and his luggage sitting on the floor next to him.

“So…” You start, moving to stand in front of him. His head instantly turns to stare at you, his eyes meeting yours with faint disinterest. “I should probably show you to your room.” You clear your throat, “I’m sure you’re tired after that long a drive” you say as you motion for him to follow you as you move towards the stairs.

You don’t look back, hearing his heavy footsteps following right behind you letting you know that he hadn’t ignored you. 

You take Taehyung to the other side of the house, to the only guest room with its own private bathroom. “The maid comes in every morning on weekdays  to tidy things up, I’ll let her know to make up your room after you’ve left for school in the morning.” You let him know, opening the door to the room – looking around at the soft blue sheets that decorated the bed.

“Bathroom is in there, the closet on the other side.” You point around at the different doors around the room. Taehyung drops his bags, sitting on the bed as he bites on his bottom lip. “You can go into the kitchen at any time, the fridge is fully stocked with late night snacks and I’m right down the hall if you need anything… Uh…” You stood there, scratching the back of your neck, feeling a blush running up your neck and settling in your cheeks – moving to walk out the door in the most awkward manner your body could muster.

“Actually” Taehyung’s surprisingly deep voice echoes across the room. Well, you were not expecting that.  “Can I have some more pillows?” He asks, looking at the two measly-looking pillows lying on the bed, he could already feel his neck hurt at the thought of sleeping like that. 

You quickly nod, finally glad to hear him talk at least. “Yeah, sure… I’ll go get them for you right now!” You smile widely before moving out of the room, thinking of where to get his pillows. In your mind, you were finally making progress with the Taehyung — even if it was something as little as this.

It took you awhile to locate a few extra clean ones, before you were walking back into Taehyung’s room only to hear the shower running and he was nowhere to be found.

You decide to clear the bed for him, mounting up the pillows in the most comfortable way you could. Your mind up in the air and distracted, that you never heard the shower being turned off, nor the boy now walking out of the bathroom, with a towel around his waist and small droplets of water now dripping down his naked chest.

Taehyung watches silently as you fluff the pillows, biting his bottom lip as he heads towards his suitcase. Maybe this won’t be as bad after all – he smugly thinks to himself as he moves to stand right behind you, a towel on his wet hair as you crawl off the bed, jumping when you hear him clear his throat from behind you before letting out a scream of surprise, blushing as you try to recover from the small heart attack that he almost caused you. 

“Taehyung! I’m sorry, I thought you were still in the shower.” You chuckle nervously, noticing just how close he was standing to you. So close that you could still see the small droplets of water dropping off his chin and down his chest one by one. Oh, it has been way too long since you were this close to a man, because this was no boy. You gulp, looking anywhere but at the man in front of you.

“I should probably go get ready for bed, it’s getting pretty late already... Have a good night then!” You squeal out before you dash out of the room in a hurry and head straight for the comfort of yours. You felt awkward and uncomfortable with what had just happened, whatever it is that JUST happened. 

Taehyung looked at the door after you left, thinking about how adorable you look when your cheeks went red and you looked completely flustered. He liked it when girls acted that way around him, he was used to it. Yet, there was something about you that he just seemed to like a bit more.   

You sit on bed with your class’s works laying in front of you, a collection of random black and white sketches for the first part of the assignment you had made them slave over this weekend. Your glasses were sitting at the tip of your nose as you try to keep your eyes from closing as you continue to type in comments of approvals and things they needed to work on for the rest of the semester.  It was already nearing two in the morning when you heard the garage door open, not moving from your position as you knew for certain it was no one other than Namjoon coming in at such a late hour. 

Your short suspicions were confirmed a few minutes later, when the very man was entering through your bedroom door with his coat jacket in his hands. “There’s my little workaholic!” You greet him, smiling up at him as he walks closer to you. Namjoon sends you a tired smile before leaning down to plant a quick kiss on your lips.

Namjoon chuckles tiredly as he throws his coat onto the end of your bed before he pulls on his tie as he heads towards the bathroom he yells back “Speak for yourself! You’re the one who brought work into the bedroom!”  You hear the shower running as you continue with your work, deciding to finish it tomorrow when you had enough sleep to be able to think straight.

You push your work from your lap before moving them to the floor, you look up at Namjoon with a small angry glare hoping he would get the hint a little bit quicker. You were mad. But, you weren’t going to tell him that, you were going to let him figure that out on his own. 

“What did I do?” Namjoon stops, slowly taking off his remaining sock, “Who says anything wrong?” You answer back. This prompts Namjoon to chuckle dryly as he rolls his eyes jokingly, “Maybe because when you get mad, you get this insanely cute pout on your lips?” 

You blush at the compliment, brushing it aside as you clear your throat, “When were you going to tell me you offer Taehyung a place to stay with us?” Your ‘stern’ voice resurfacing as you remember how angry you still felt. Or at least you did. 

 “I knew I forgot something important…” Namjoon quips, biting at his bottom lip as his forehead wrinkles in frustration. The same way he always did when he knew he was guilty of something – after so many years of being together, you liked how you knew him like the back of your hand. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble. I figured I would sit you down for dinner before breaking the news to you, but I guess Hyuna had other plans.”

You keep silent as you watch him begin to undress, stretching his neck as he shrugs off the white button up. You bite at your bottom lip, putting the papers back down on the bed as you lean back and take a good luck at him. Namjoon turns around, leaning on his knee on the bed as he looks at you up and down as he takes off his watch. “What?” He smirked, his hands now reaching down to his belt, tilting his head to the side as he watches you rub your thighs together. 

“Nothing…”

Namjoon lets out a loud sigh, unbuttoning the top of his dress pants before crawling like a lion to his prey. His fingers gliding over the top of your naked legs, lustful eyes staring you down as he grabs onto your ankles and pulls you down swiftly until you're laying down on the soft bed underneath him.

He doesn't say anything as all traces of playfulness are gone as he moves your hair out of your face before leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. Namjoon, lays his body over yours, a hand sliding down your t-shirt until it's sitting on the side of your stomach - slowly inching towards your chest, until his hand is gripping onto your bare breast and his lips leave a trace of kisses down your jaw and to your neck.

You could feel him grinding his hips against yours, grunting as he feels chills running all over his body. Namjoon could feel the pressure building up in the bottom of his stomach and the blood rushing down to his member. He grunts out, his lips meeting yours once again before his pulling away. Namjoon slides down your body, never looking away from you as he lays down in front of you. His gentle kisses on the inside of your thigh so very close to the place that has been neglected for far too long.

His hands grab onto your thighs, spreading your legs apart even wider as he settles in between them. You shut your eyes moving you feel him move your underwear to the side, his soft lips meeting your wet center. You sigh out in ecstasy as you feel him flatten his tongue against you. It has been way too long since the last time your husband had touched you in such a way.

Your hands wrap around his dirty golden looks as his tongue continues to flick against your clit in a quick manner, leaving your entire body a trembling mess. Namjoon smirks as your body arches, pushing further against his tongue before pushing his index finger into you slowly. He curls his finger against the inside of your walls, leaving you a moaning mess as you continue to tug on his hair. Your hands let go of his hair, running up your own stomach as you grab both of your breasts in your hands.  

You feel his lips sucking hard on your clit before pulling away with a ‘pop’ and you feel your orgasm being pushed closer and closer to the edge. All you needed was that little push.

Namjoon pulls away from you, hooded eyes staring down at you as he pushes his dress pants down his muscled thighs until his penis is standing fully erect in front of you. He roughly grabbed onto your hips, pulling you towards his body before the tip of his member was sliding up and down your clit.

Namjoon grunts as he pushes into you up to the hilt, feeling your warm, wet and pulsating walls surrounding him entirely. “God, I’ve forgotten how good you feel around me” He moans out as he begins to buck his hips into yours. His thrusts were short, but hard enough that you could feel pleasure shoot through your entire body. The little whimpers that let your body sound like music to his ears as he gathers up both your legs into his arms and throws them over both of his shoulders. With the new position you could feel him sinking in deeper within you as he begins to move faster and harder.

“Joonie…” You whine, your hands fisting the cotton sheets beneath you as the urge to cum intensifies even more. “I’m about to oh fuck…” the words never leaving your lips as your orgasm washes over you. Toe- curling, back arching pleasure washing over you.

Namjoon’s eyes shut as his hips move quicker, his own orgasm making his balls tighten as the snap against your ass before pumping you full of his cum.

Your heavy breathing could be heard echoing all over your bedroom, his groans joining. “Fuck” 

Namjoon whispers under his breath, pulling out of you before watching his seed spill slowly out of you.

You feel him slide the tip of his member up and down your lips before sliding it back in once more

You whine a little at the over sensitive feeling that shoots up your spine before your pushing at his abdomen.

Namjoon chuckles, pulling his now softening member out of you and laying down next to you on the bed, feeling completely exhausted. “I guess that means that I’m forgiven?” He jokes, looking at you with tired eyes as he bites his lip trying to contain his smile – you laugh out loud as you hit him in the chest in a joking manner.

“Stop it.” You mumble, your voice heavy with sleep as you lay your head on his chest. You feel Namjoon’s hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to his warm body as he props his chin on the top of your head.

Neither you nor Namjoon ever caught the pair of brown eyes that were looking at the two of you so intently from the half-opened door.

Masterlist >>

[bellakitse]

The Marriage Tamales

Answering a call, TK and 126 meet Carlota Reyes, Carlos' mother, and his three sisters. While there, TK learns some very important information about his and Carlos' relationship.

* “You made this pretty little gringo, our mother’s marriage tamales?” Lola looks at him amazed.

Valentina smirks at him, the only way the oldest can. “When’s the wedding?”

“Wedding?” Sofiá repeats, scoffing. “Where’s their kid? Obviously, he already married this white boy if he made him mama's marriage tamales."

Carlos gets the text from his older sister just as he’s leaving the station for the day; he lets out a groan before he reads it, remembering as he sees her name that he’s supposed to go to their mother’s house for dinner. His workday has been a long one, and it’s completely slipped his mind. Valentina was probably texting to know when he would be getting there, since his mother doesn’t like to serve unless all her four children are at the table on family night.

He opens his messages, ready to shoot a quick text that he’s on his way when he reads what exactly she’s sent him.

‘The fire department is here, Mami almost burned the house down, get here now.’

Carlos feels the blood in his body go to his toes as he rereads the text before letting out a curse. He rushes to get into his squad car, turning on the light bar and the sirens as he goes. He tries not to speed, the last thing he needs is another lecture from his mom about it, between the squad car and his Camero, his mother is always giving him the stink-eye, and lecturing him about being a speed demon who is giving her grey hairs with his driving.

Carlota Reyes knows how to turn on the mom guilt like a pro when she needs to.

He gets to the simple ranch house his mother moved them into when he was a teenager to find a fire truck, EMS, and his sisters’ vehicles all in front of it. He’s barely turned his car off before he’s already out the door. Seeing the badge on the truck, he spots the engine number and instantly realizes that it’s the recently rebuilt fire engine 126 that has been called to his mother’s house. He’s worked a few calls with the new crew in the last few months since the firehouse opened their doors again, he likes them, and Michelle who works with them as EMS Captain seems to have good things to say about them too.

He relaxes slightly now that he knows it’s them who answered the call, it also helps that the house seems to be fine except for the emergency vehicles gathered around, and a few EMTs by their rig. No one makes a move to stop him as he makes his way up the stone pathway to the front door. Be it because he’s still in uniform, or because his face says ‘get the fuck out of my way,’ he’s not sure.

“Mami?” he calls out as he walks into the house, the smell of smoke hitting him the second he’s through the door. “Valentina?” he shouts next as he enters the living room, stopping short at what he finds inside the family room.

His oldest sister Valentina is there alright, as are his other two sisters Sofía and Lola, and they aren’t alone. Members of the 126, Mateo, and Marjan are sitting on the couch with them, while Judd and Paul stand behind it, all drinking what looks to be horchata like it’s a party.

“What the hell?” he gets out, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

“Hey, bro!” Lola speaks up first, flashing him a shit-eating grin as she raises a glass to him as a toast. Lola is the one he’s closest to age-wise, with her being only two years older than him, as opposed to Sofía, who is five years older or Valentina, who at 34 is eight years older. “Finally, you’re late.”

“Seriously, what the fuck,” he repeats himself, looking away from his troublemaking sister to the more responsible ones. “I get a text saying Mami almost burned the house down, and I come to find you guys drinking horchata with the 126?”

“And chicken empanadas,” Captain Strand adds in from where he’s sitting next to Valentina, a smile on his face as he bites into the empanada, letting out a joyful sound. He’s not surprised, his mom’s empanadas are delicious, but that’s beside the point.

“I’m going to ask one more time, and I expect an answer,” Carlos tells them all sternly, placing his hands on his gun belt. “What the fuck is happening here, and is everyone okay?”

“Everyone is fine, Carlitos, which is more than I can say for you if you curse in my house one more time, Nene.”

Carlos spins on his heel to find his mother over by the archway mimicking his pose by having her hands on her hips.

“Mami,” he exhales, he crosses the distance between them and pulls her small frame against his, holding her tight. He feels her chuckle softly as she rests her head on his chest, hugging him back. The top of her head barely grazes his chin, and he leans down to accommodate her. “Are you okay? Valentina said there was a fire.”

Carlota Reyes pulls back from the hug, throwing a glare over his shoulder, no doubt at his older sister. “Your sister is melodramatic, Tu sabes como es.”

“I’m sorry, did you or did you not start a fire in the kitchen?” Valentina asks the room at large, getting an echo of agreement from his other two sisters, though the 126 seem to be smarter by keeping their mouths shut when Carlota shoots them all another look.

“Mami?” he questions her, giving her his cop face in hopes that she’ll cave and tell him the truth. Rolling her eyes at him, she turns to the man beside her, and for the first time, Carlos notices who it is. He can feel his face go hot as he looks at him.

TK Strand.

He shouldn’t be surprised he’s here; he should have realized that TK would probably be responding to the call the moment he saw the 126 truck, he definitely should have anticipated it after seeing TK’s dad.

“Hey, TK,” he gets out, his face goes redder still at the way his voice cracks, but he can’t help it. He and TK have been messing around, keeping it strictly friends with benefits since his failed dinner attempt and then their darts date. They hang out; they’re friends, they have sex – really good, out of this world, mind-melting sex – and now TK is standing next to his mother, while he has to get through this without her figuring out all the dirty things he’s been doing with the guy she’s smiling up at so sweetly.

“Hey, Carlos,” TK smiles at him as he tries not to react too much. There is a way that TK sometimes looks at him, that makes Carlos forget that the guy is not his boyfriend, it always makes him want to press him into the nears wall and lick his way into that smile.

“TK, tell my Carlitos, that everything is fine,” Carlota nudges at TK with her elbow like they’re already best friends, Lord help him. “He’s always worrying so much. You’re going to get wrinkles, Bebé.”

TK grins at him with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes that Carlos is sure is from the way his mom talks to him. It doesn’t matter that he’s 26 and a Police Officer. As the youngest of four, his mother and to an extent, his sisters have always babied the crap out of him. He’s learned to ignore it until people outside the family get a front-row seat to his embarrassment.

“The stove caught fire,” TK starts telling him, raising his hands to calm him down when Carlos makes a panicked sound. “It’s all good, we put it out and checked-out your mom and sisters,” he looks over at the couches where everyone is seated. “Everyone is fine, and there’s not much damage, though the stove will have to be replaced.”

“See, the handsome firefighter says everything is fine. You can stop worrying now, mijo,” Carlota says to him, turning back towards TK with a smile. “You’ve met my son before, TK?”

Carlos feels his skin heat up as TK looks over at him, a slow-building smile working its way to his face. “Yes, ma’am, Carlos and I know each other from work, he’s an excellent officer.”

“And handsome?” his mom questions hopefully, a sly grin on her face as she looks over at him like she knows she’s killing him with embarrassment and is okay with it.

TK lets out a chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners from his grin, he leans down closer to his mother to speak in a stage-whisper. “He certainly makes some of the calls we’ve been on, way prettier.”

Carlota lights up like she has won the lotto, and Carlos instantly understands what his mother is playing at.

Carlos groans loudly, earning himself a snort from more than one of his sisters. “Oh my god, this isn’t happening,” he says, turning away from TK and his mom to find his sisters, Captain Strand and the rest of the crew watching them with entertained looks on their faces, empanadas in hand.

“What?” his mom asks innocently like she doesn’t know what she’s doing.

Carlos ignores her as he takes a step back towards the couches and the food, if he’s going to be embarrassed in front of his siblings, the people he works with, and the guy he has a massive crush on; at the very least, he’s eating.

“She zeroed in on him the second she saw his eyes, kid,” Valentina tells him.

Carlos shakes his head, holding out a hand to Sofía, grateful when she passes him an empanada. “Of course she did, Mami likes green eyes.”

Valentina, Sofía, and Lola all nod in agreement, while everyone else in the room looks on curiously.

“Mom’s scoping him out for Carlos,” Lola explains because she’s a horrible, horrible sister who he is going to smother with a couch cushion. “Valentina and Sofía are married, and I’m a lost cause, so Mami is checking out if TK is available for Carlos.”

“I am not!” Carlota protests, which sets her and his sisters off, in between the snippets of conversation he learns that his mother latched on to TK since the second he walked through her door.

Turning his gaze towards the man in question, he finds TK has taken a few steps closer to him, looking at him with humor and a little shyness as his family really gets into it. The rest of the 126 looks on, riveted by the show, the Reyes women are entertaining if nothing else. Taking the plate of leftover empanadas, he passes it to TK, letting him take one.

Biting into it, TK lets out a moan that stops all conversations and makes Carlos’ pulse spike.

Jesus Christ, this man lives to wreak havoc on him.

“Oh my god, that’s delicious,” TK says happily, closing his eyes as he chews, missing the grin Carlota is sporting, pleased as punch by TK’s reaction. “No wonder you’re such a good cook, you got it from your mom.”

Carlos stares at TK and nowhere else, as the rest of the ones gathered stare holes into the both of them. TK looks back at him, and the little shit dares to smile at him like he hasn’t just unleashed mayhem with his words.

“Carlos has cooked for you?” Sofía asks, the glee in her voice proof that while she might be the quietest of them all, she still has an evil streak a mile long.

“Mmhmm,” TK says around another bite, raising his fingers to count off. “He’s made me fish, didn’t eat that time though, my fault, not his. He’s made me carbonara; that was pretty simple, but he was coming off a 16-hour shift, and it was still delicious. He also made me some tamales to die for,” TK continues, not realizing what he's done by mentioning them. Carlos cringes as his sisters look at him with unholy excitement. He turns to look over at his mom, shaking his head as he takes in the way she looks ready to cry, she’s so happy. 

“He said it was your recipe, ma’am,” TK tells his mom, flashing her a bright smile. “You taught him well. It’s the best food I have ever had, besides these empanadas, of course.”

His mom makes a squeak like noise, before slapping her hands over her mouth in what Carlos thinks is an attempt not to start squealing. As is, she looks to be vibrating with unbridled happiness.

“You made this pretty little gringo, our mother’s marriage tamales?” Lola looks at him amazed.

Valentina smirks at him, the only way the oldest can. “When’s the wedding?”

“Wedding?” Sofía repeats, scoffing. “Where’s their kid? Obviously, he already married this white boy if he made him mama's marriage tamales. You guys adopting or going with surrogacy?”

"Marriage tamales?" TK asks with a small confused smile on his face, while his sisters nod in his direction. 

"Mami taught all of us with the condition that we can only make them for someone truly special to us," Valentina tells him, as TK looks at him with wide eyes, his mouth parted in surprise. "I made them for my husband when I realized I loved him, Sofía, did the same with her husband."

"I have never made the tamales for anyone," Lola adds. "Cause like I said, a lost cause."

TK continues to look at him, shocked, and suddenly Carlos doesn't care that his family or TK’s crew is watching; all he cares about is that TK doesn't freak out, and as a result, Carlos loses him. "Tyler, I –" he starts only to stop when he hears choking happening next to Valentina.

Looking over, he finds Captain Strand staring at them. "He called you by your name."

TK snaps out of his daze and looks back at his dad, his face turning red. "Dad," TK hisses in warning, but Owen doesn't listen.

"He knows your first name, TK," Owen continues, making significant eyes at his son. "He knows it and just used it. Does he know what the K stands for too?"

TK doesn't answer, his face is a pretty shade of pink, and Owen turns his eyes to him, waiting for an answer. 

"Yes," Carlos starts, making TK’s gaze go back to him. "It's –"

TK takes two steps towards him, placing his hand over his mouth. "Don't you dare, Carlos Reyes," TK warns him gravely, but Carlos can't help but smile at how flustered TK looks. 

He tugs the hand off his face, grinning at him. "I didn't realize using your name was such a big deal," he teases him, smirking as TK gives him a scowl. "I feel special."

TK narrows his eyes at him in response. "Marriage tamales, Reyes."

Carlos loses his smirk, giving him a nod when TK raises an eyebrow at him. Fair enough. 

"So, you're dating?" Mateo asks, reminding them that the crew is still very much in the room watching this all go down like a telenovela. Marjan, Judd, and Paul all look on in interest with small smirks on all their faces.

"We're –" TK starts, looking around the room, then back at him. There is a vulnerable look in TK's pretty green eyes, and Carlos feels like an idiot. He has spent the last few weeks that they have been doing this, trying to keep it all light and easy, as not to spook TK. And while doing so, he hasn't been looking for a sign that maybe things have changed, that possibly TK might finally be ready for more.

"We're not, not dating," Carlos says for him, the words feeling really inadequate, but it's the best he can do with everyone around them right now.

They need to talk alone and give this a new definition, but for the first time, Carlos is hopeful that it will include the words relationship and together.

TK looks at him with a small smile, giving him a slight nod of his head, silently agreeing with him.

His mother, though, of course, isn't satisfied with the answer. "I'm sorry, but that is young people speak for what exactly?"

Carlos opens his mouth only for Lola to cut in.

"It means Carlitos has been hitting it with the gringo, but not putting a label on it, Mami," Lola informs her while smirking in his direction. "He's been doing a whole lot of sinning, but it also seems like he wants to bring this cutie into the family."

TK blushes again at his sister's words, while Carlos narrows his eyes at Lola who keeps looking at him completely pleased with herself.

"Lola, how's Leticia from the good market Mami likes?" Carlos questions, a victorious grin on his face as she loses her smile and glares at him. Valentina and Sofía let out amused 'oohs,' respectively.

"Lola?" Carlota questions, groaning when Lola gives her a hesitant smile. "If you break that girl's heart, her dad isn't going to sell me the good peppers anymore, and I’ll make you go across town to get me some from that fancy organic place that pisses you off,” she warns her.

The comment gets his sister, and his mother started again, his other two sisters joining the fray.

Captain Strand proving to be a good Captain who knows when to get his people out of the fire, begins signaling for them to leave. One by one, the firefighters each head for the front door, each thanking his mother for the food.

TK is the last to go, still looking at him and no one else. "We'll talk later?" he asks, his expression tentative, and Carlos can't let him leave like that. Ignoring his family, he leans down to give TK a quick kiss. He lets out a surprised sound when TK touches the back of his neck, holding him there for a moment to make the kiss last.

When they break apart, the room is completely silent, but Carlos can't hear anything but their breathing and his heart beating.

"I finish my shift in three hours," TK tells him quietly, and Carlos nods, understanding him.

"Come by after; I'll be home."

TK smiles at him before turning around; he lets out a nervous chuckle as he finds his sisters and his mother watching them. "It was nice meeting you all," TK starts, walking back towards them to get to the door. He stops in front of his mother, holding out his hand. "Ma'am it was a pleasure, thank you for the food."

Carlota smiles up at TK, taking his hand before pulling him in for a hug. TK lets out a surprised noise, whether it's from the unexpected strength his mother has, or the hug itself, Carlos isn't sure.

Letting him go, Carlota points a finger in TK's face. "I better see you again, guapo, soon."

TK looks at him, smiles, and then looks back at his mom. "I'll make sure it happens, ma'am."

 ֎֍֎

 Carlos is a mess of nervous energy as he paces back and forth in his apartment. TK texted him twenty minutes ago, asking if it was still okay for him to stop by, and now Carlos was waiting for him, every second that past putting him more on edge.

He has a feeling that the conversation they need to have is going to go his way. TK put down all the signals before he left his mom’s house, but that doesn’t stop him from being nervous. He wants this, wants TK so bad. More than he’s ever wanted anything, and knowing that there might actually be a chance he gets to have him completely sends his pulse racing.

The rest of his time at the house had been interesting. His sisters and his mother grilled him about TK to the point that he had to ask who was the cop, him, or them? They’re amazing interrogators and cracked him like an egg. In the end, he told them how he met TK, keeping some of the more salacious aspects of their relationship to himself for his mother’s sake, though given the leers his sisters gave him, they weren’t fooled at all.

Finally, though, all it boiled down to for his mom and his sisters is how he feels. His mom softly asking him, ‘Lo quieres, Carlitos?’ her warm hands holding his. Valentina playing with his hair, Lola with her head on his knee as she sat on the floor, while Sofía stood behind him with her hands on his shoulders, he couldn’t deny the truth.

The hug that came from all sides as he let out a quiet, ‘Si, mucho’ soothed him the only way his family’s love could.

He couldn’t hide it anymore. He cared about TK, given half the chance he could love him forever, and he really wants that chance.

The knock on the door pulls him away from his thoughts, taking a breath he crosses his living room to open it, finding a soft-looking TK, who gives him a nervous half-smile as he takes him in.

“Hey,” he says quietly, stepping to the side to let TK in, only TK doesn’t do that; instead, he steps into Carlos’ space, his face inches away from his.

He looks at him for a moment, his green eyes searching for something before he closes the distance between their lips. Carlos sighs into the kiss, bringing his arms around TK’s back as TK wraps his arms around Carlos’ neck. TK’s tongue runs over the stem of Carlos’ lips, and with a soft moan, Carlos opens his mouth. TK kisses him the way he does everything else, one hundred percent in, his tongue dances against his as he deepens the kiss, and all Carlos can do is hold him closer as he gets lost in the taste and feel of TK. He feels perfect in his arms, and it’s all he wants, to keep TK close to him. Jesus, he’s in love, without meaning to, he's fallen in love with this beautiful man, and he just wants to keep him.

Carlos has them pressed against his door when they break the kiss, both breathing heavy. TK keeps a firm grip on him like Carlos has any interest in stepping away from him. He looks at Carlos; his bright, colorful eyes have a soft hazy look to them.

“The marriage tamales, Carlos,” TK whispers, there’s almost a pleading quality to his tone. “What do they mean?”

Carlos inhales sharply, his heart pounding in his ears as TK looks at him earnestly. Licking his lips, he closes his eyes for a moment, and he feels the way TK runs his fingers at the top of his spine, almost petting him to calm him down. Opening his eyes, he looks back into TK’s, time to lay it all out on the table, and hope he’s not wrong in his optimism.

“It means,” he starts, his voice not much more than a whisper. “It means I want to be yours, and you be mine. It means that I want what I have wanted from the moment I met you.”

“What’s that?” TK whispers back, his eyes are large, and he looks at Carlos like he’s genuinely seeing him for the first time.

“A chance to love you the way you deserve,” he tells him, smiling at TK when he lets out a sharp breath. “If you let me, I’ll love you the way you should always be loved, Tyler. Entirely and with my whole heart.”

“What if I don’t deserve that?” TK asks, swallowing hard, his eyes glassy from unshed tears.

“I’ve never heard a bigger untruth in my life, you deserve everything good this world has to offer,” Carlos brings his hands to TK’s face, cradling his cheeks, his thumb under his eyes, ready to wipe away the tears. He hates that someone made TK feel like this. “I’m not saying I’m the best thing that will ever happen to you. All I can say is that I’ll treat you like you’re the best thing that’s happened to me, because you are, we aren’t even together, and you already are.”

TK closes his eyes, and more tears spill, but there is also a blinding smile on his face as he pulls Carlos even closer, resting his forehead against his. “When your sisters said that the tamales are only for people you guys think are special and love,” TK opens his eyes, and Carlos has never seen anything more beautiful than the man standing in front of him. “I wanted that. I want to be special to you, loved by you. I want it so bad, Carlos. I think I have wanted it from the start and it scared the fuck out of me, it still scares me.”

TK pauses, taking a breath. He lets his hand slide down from Carlos’ neck to his chest, letting it rest over Carlos’ heart, he smiles up at him when Carlos covers his hand with his, holding it to his chest. “But I want it more than it scares me, Carlos.”

“Yeah?” Carlos asks, his cheeks hurting from smiling so hard.

TK grins back at him, a soft laugh falling off his smile as he nods. “Yeah.”

 ֎֍֎

 Carlos pulls his car up in front of the house; the driveway is already full of vehicles. Turning his head to look at the house, he makes a vague note that the house could use a paint job. It’s not bad, but a touch-up is needed. Looking next to him, he takes in his passenger. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks for the third time since he started his car. TK flashes him a smile, it’s a little nervous but mostly amused at his expense. He shifts the package he has in his hands, drawing Carlos’ attention to it, it makes him smile.

“Yes, I’m sure,” TK answers firmly, the same way he has since Valentina called this morning to ask if he was with his white boy, and if he had finally declared his love for him, then their mom insisted he bring TK to a late lunch at the house since dinner didn’t happen the night before.

He’d had the phone on speaker when speaking with his sister, and before Carlos could weasel out of it, TK answered they would be there, asking if he should bring anything.

Valentina had gone silent for a second, before letting out a loud laugh, telling him that bringing his pretty self was more than enough.

“Okay,” Carlos takes a deep breath as TK flashes him another smile, his hand going for the door handle, but Carlos can’t help but stop him.

TK gives him a curious look; his brow pinched softly in the middle. “Carlos?”

“Just don’t break up with me now that we’re finally together because my family is crazy, please?” Carlos rushes out to say, only half-joking. He adores his family; he’d give his life for them. But they’re nuts, and last night was only a taste of it, now that they know he and TK are together, he can only imagine how extra crazy they’re going to be.

TK’s expression softens, he lets go of the handle, turning his body back towards Carlos. “Come here,” he commands softly, his hand reaching for Carlos’ cheek to pull him close. Carlos goes as he’s asked, sighing as TK presses his forehead against his.

“I’m not going to change my mind about this,” TK tells him quietly, his thumb drawing circles on his cheekbone. “I know I have been hot and cold with you.”

Carlos opens his mouth to argue only for TK to cover it with his hand.

“But,” TK emphasizes. “I know what I want now, okay?”

“And it’s me, right?” Carlos askes, needing to be sure, the smile TK gives him is bright and sweet.

Carlos’ eyes shut a second before TK’s lips touch his. The kiss TK gives him is gentle, a soft press of his lips, it’s after Carlos lets out an impatient sound that TK deepens it. Still, Carlos can feel TK’s smile against his lips as he licks into his mouth, the temperature in his car rising with every swipe. Carlos grabs at the back of TK’s head, pulling him closer, moaning as the action makes TK suck on his bottom lip.

“Tyler –,” he groans out as TK pulls his mouth off his, starting to kiss his way down his neck. “Baby, please.”

He’s not even sure what he’s begging for, and neither have time to find out when there is a sharp knock at the hood of his car, startling them enough to jump away from each other.

Looking over towards the passenger side window, Carlos lets out a deep mortifying groan as he takes in the smirking faces of his three sisters watching them.

“Heeey, bro,” Lola starts, her eyes flickering from him to TK and back again, her grin growing, while Sofía places a hand over her mouth, and Valentina shakes her head, rolling her eyes. Carlos looks at TK to find him blushing, his eyes a little hazy, and though he’s embarrassed himself, he’s also more than a little proud by the expression he’s put on his boyfriend’s face.

“So we can see you’re having a real good time out here,” Lola continues, and Carlos hears one of his other sisters snort. “But we’re kind of hungry, and you know Mami doesn’t serve unless we’re all sitting down, so if you could stop eating your gringo’s face, we’d appreciate it. Mami made carne asada and raja con papas.”

Sofía leans down to speak to them. “She said he’s too skinny, so she went dish heavy and made a lot,” she looks at TK, giving him a shrug. “You better be ready to roll out of here, she’s going to stuff you.”

TK laughs, giving his sisters a nod he opens the door to the car and steps out. Carlos follows, going around the car quickly to take his hand.

They start towards the house only for Valentina to hold up a hand to them. “What’s that?” she points at what TK is carrying in his other hand even though it’s obvious what it is.

TK looks down at his hand and grins when he looks back up at his sister. “You said I didn’t need to bring anything, but I was taught not to come into a house empty-handed,” he smirks when Lola and Sofía start laughing as he shows them the gift he got their mother.

“No mames!” Lola gets out through her chuckles, setting Sofía off again.

Valentina shakes her head again, also smiling. “He’s a smartass little shit,” she looks over at him with approval. “Good job with this one, Nene. Mom might box his ears, though.”

Carlos shrugs, he’s not worried, he saw the way his mother looked at TK the night before, and he knows he’s already won her over.

Walking into the house, they find Carlota Reyes standing in the foyer, a smile on her face, and the house smelling amazing. Leave it to his mom to have a kitchen fire the night before and now a little over twelve hours later have lunch ready.

“Mami,” he greets her, letting go of TK’s hand to hug her, leaning down so she can kiss his cheek.

“Carlitos,” she greets him back before looking over at TK with an even wider smile. “Welcome back, guapo.”

“I did say I would make it happen, ma’am,” TK grins at her. He holds up the small home extinguisher he’s been holding, presenting it to her, his lips twitching as Carlota narrows her eyes at him and his present. “Valentina said no flowers.”

Carlota stares at it for another few seconds; everything is quiet as she purses her lips. “Que suerte la mia,” she starts, rolling her eyes when the girls start laughing. “Another smart ass, not like I already have four.”

“That means she’s adopting you,” Lola tells TK as she throws an arm around his shoulder for a moment. Valentina and Sofía nod in agreement, grinning at TK as he smiles back at them. Carlota shakes her head at all of them, the corners of her mouth curling upward.

“Enough standing around, let's eat,” she orders them, waving towards the dining room. They all listen and start to make their way into the room.

Carlota stops TK with a touch of her hand on his arm, Carlos stops too, watching TK with his mother. “Thanks for the gift, mijo, I appreciate it.”

TK looks over at him and then back at his mother, a soft smile on his face as he covers her hand with his. “Gotta keep you safe, ma’am, you’re my boyfriend’s mother after all.”

Carlos watches as his mother lights up, and he feels something warm spread through him as he watches two people he loves get along. Behind him, he knows his sisters are also listening; he can feel their approval too.

“Call me Carlota, ojos bonitos, Carlota.”

[katehuntington]

Title: All I Want - part three Fandom: Supernatural Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester (Bobby Singer, Castiel Mary Winchester and many more mentioned) Pairing: Dean x Reader Series summary: Sam and Dean come across an object that could be the solution to Michael. The Pearl of Baozhu grants the beholder’s deepest desire. Once Dean focuses on his wish, the archangel remains caged in his mind however. Instead his former girlfriend Y/N shows up, who was killed in 2010 in Detroit, by no other than Lucifer himself. Summary part three: Still in shock after Y/N’s unexpected return, the Winchesters fill her in on what has happened in the past ten years. Learning about all the ones they have lost, is a little too much for her to take in. Warnings part three: NSFW, 18+ only. Spoilers season 14 episode 13. Angst, fluff. Swearing, alcoholism. Descriptions of flashbacks and memories. Mentions of character death, time in Hell, torture and nightmares. Anxiety, grieving over lost loved one. Confusion that comes with time travel. Word Count: 5377 words Author’s note: Part three of a multi part miniseries, based on the 300th episode “Lebanon”. Beta’d by the lovely @kittenofdoomage​, @winchest09​, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish​, and @thinkwritexpress-official​​. Thank you all so much for your feedback!

All I Want Masterlist

     “So, long story short,” Y/N summarizes, “Sam jumped into the pit with Lucifer riding piggyback, Cas pulled him out but forgot his soul. There was a civil war in Heaven. Cas declared himself God and released the Leviathan and when those ugly suckers were defeated, our angel buddy and you--” she nods at Dean, “- got sucked into Purgatory, which is a place that actually exists, apparently.”

     They are in the kitchen, seated at the four-person table. The hunters raided the liquor cabinet, all in need of a drink after the rather unexpected and staggering turn of events.      Y/N takes a shot of whiskey and puts the tumbler down on the varnished wood with a bang, shoving it across and motioning the older Winchester for a refill.

     “Meanwhile, Sam hit a dog and you escaped Purgatory, but Cas didn’t. Then there was this whole deal with the tablets and the trials, which almost killed your brother. You let an angel - who actually turned out to be a different angel - possess Sam in order to save him. There’s a second civil war upstairs…” She knocks back her head, downing the glass in one go. “I mean, what is it with those halo idiots? Haven’t they learned anything from watching humanity slaughter each other for centuries?”      “Y/N, I know this is a lot, but you need to slow down a bit,” Dean advises, but she snatches the bottle from his hand and pours herself another.      “I’m nowhere near done. Where was I?” She looks up at the ceiling of the kitchen for a second while thinking, until it comes to her. “Oh, right! The angels fell, you took on the Mark of Cain, beat that Knight of Hell chick Abaddon, then got yourself killed. Again. But, oh wait, it gets better! You woke up a demon and had a fun summer with Crowley.”      Her voice pitches a little higher, a hint of panic audible now. Dean watches her process the information which is so clearly overwhelming her and eyes Sam, who is fixing her something quick to eat behind the kitchen counter. Their gazes lock on each other, both men wondering in silence if telling her the whole truth was a good idea.

     “Sam cured you, but you still carried the Mark. You killed Death.” She laughs, cynically. “I mean, c’mon! Death! It’s ironic to say the least. Anyway, the Darkness was released, which - I kid you not - is God’s sister. Oh, and God? Turns out that horrible tween girl novel writer Chuck is actually the almighty creator! Ha!”      “Why don’t you eat something? You’re probably hungry,” Sam suggests, putting down a plate in front of her.      But Y/N isn’t interested in the sandwich and instead picks up her crystal glass again, having another royal amount of the brown liquor. Holding the tumbler to her lips while letting the whiskey linger in her mouth, she points her index finger at the younger Winchester now, who sits down opposite of the woman from their past.

     “Your mom is back from the dead, the British Men of Letters turned out to be stuck up dicks. Lucifer was sprung from the cage, became President of the United States, and knocked up an intern. He had a son, his name is Jack. How am I doing so far?” she rants, setting down the empty glass in front of her.      Dean looks at her, a worried frown drawing lines on his forehead. He knows her well enough to sense she needs to blow off steam. Interrupting her might not be his best move, but that doesn’t stop him from growing concerned about her current state of mind.

     “There was a rift between our world and this - this Apocalypse world, you called it? And Mary and Lucifer ended up on the wrong side before it closed. Luci killed Cas, Dean was sad, Cas came back. You guys went on a rescue mission, Sam got killed. Again!” She sighs deeply, burying her face in her crossed arms on the table. “Seriously, the amount of times you two have died is giving me a fucking headache.”      “Yeah, sorry about that,” Sam says, shooting her a sheepish smile before she continues.

     “So Apocalypse!Michael possessed you in order to kill the Devil once and for all.” She looks up again, focusing on Dean. “But he didn’t check out like he promised - shocker, by the way. He wreaked havoc here, then out of the blue let you go. And now you guys live here in this Men of Letters bunker with a Nephilim, an angel and your undead mother.”      “That’s about right,” Dean confirms.      Y/N lets a breath slip from her lips and stares past him absently, the gears in her head still on overdrive.      “I need another drink,” she eventually mutters, not even bothering filling up her tumbler, but taking a swig directly from the bottle.      When she sets it back on the table top and lets her fingers slip from the glass, Sam is quick to get up and take the bottle back to the kitchen, putting it away in one of the cabinets; she has had enough for one day.      “And I died…”

     The younger Winchester turns around and leans over the counter while observing his friend, his knuckles white on the surface. He studies the breadcrumbs that litter the stainless steel surface after he cut her sandwich in two, having difficulty addressing that topic. When Lucifer flung her into that wall with such magnitude that it killed her instantly, Dean lost the woman he loved, but Sam lost his best friend. He didn’t realize how he felt about her demise until after he got his soul back, which somehow made it even worse. Like he didn’t do her justice, didn’t mourn like he should have. He doesn’t have to reply to her words, though, because Dean beats him to it.      “On May 10, 2010,” he states, averting his gaze and focusing on his folded hands in front of him, still wrapped around his own whiskey glass.      The date is forever etched in his memory. Her mirage haunts him on a regular basis, but on the 10th of May she’s all he can think about, like a fog that refuses to lift at daybreak. It’s one of the hardest days to get through, the day that he misses her the most. Dean’s jaw flexes and he tries to swallow down the pressure that’s gradually building in his chest.

     “That’s - that’s in a year and a half,” Y/N stammers, after quick calculation. “At least in whatever time I’m from.”      “Yeah, just before the big title fight between the Archangels,” Sam confirms.      Y/N glances up at him, then back at Dean, who still can’t force himself to look at her.      “Who killed me?”      “Lucifer,” Dean recalls, venom in his voice.      Her brow lifts up at the reveal. She was killed by the Devil himself? Well, at least that would make a cool inscription on her tombstone.      “You guys salted and burned me, right?” she double checks, even though she cannot imagine the Winchesters giving her anything but a hunter’s farewell.      Dean pulls at his lip with his teeth, the memory of the burning pyre flashing before his eyes. He remembers it as if it was yesterday. The funeral that made sure her death would be irreversible, permanent. The sight of her body set alight. In order to stop the Apocalypse from happening, he lost his brother and his girl. Sam was suffering endless and horrific torture in the pits of Hell while she was going up in flames before his eyes. God, he was a mess. His brother came home, but looking back now, deep down Dean knows he never really recovered from losing the woman who will forever have his heart.      “I did,” he confirms.      I did, he said. All of a sudden, Y/N realizes Sam was gone too at this point; Dean didn’t even have his brother to lean on. Pitiful she watches the hunter, who has endured so much already. He lost the two most important people in his life in a day’s time.      “Then… how am I back?” she wonders. “You said something about summoning me?”      “We found a magical artifact called the Pearl of Baozhu. It grants your biggest wish, basically,” Sam begins to explain. “Apparently, it’s so powerful it doesn’t need remains to resurrect someone.”      “And I am your biggest wish?” She chuckles. “What? Not winning the lottery? Peace on Earth?”      A small smirk pulls at the corner of Dean’s mouth; oh, he missed her wit.      “No, it’s you,” he states after a moment of quiet, finally meeting her gaze.

     Astonishment silences her as she stares at him, the pain of having to go through life without her still evident in his eyes. He looks so much wearier than she remembers the tough hunter, the soldier who always marched on and kept grinding. Even after he came back from Hell, the experience that tore open wounds which bled even worse than those inflicted the night the hellhounds took him. Honestly, there were plenty of times she thought he would never recover, whenever he woke up screaming from another nightmare and she had to hold him until he calmed. And yet, he didn’t seem as burdened as he does now, and that is saying something. It’s as if time broke him down bit by bit as he grew older, until there was nothing left but a ruin. 

     Dean said it’s 2019, which means he’s forty years old now. His frown lines lay deeper, so do the crow’s feet by the corner of his eyes. There’s a scar on his chin that wasn’t there before, covered by his stubble. His hair is a little longer, but only by a quarter of an inch. Age has not done a number on him, because he’s still handsome, but trauma and loss surely have. Knowing that her own death had a substantial part in the neverending sorrow and guilt she knows the hunter carries breaks her heart, because if anything, she would never want to cause him such agony.

     “We were together,” she says, ending the silence. 

     It’s more a realization than it is a question, but Dean nods either way. Her jaw lowers slightly, her mouth opening, but she has no idea what to say. She was frightened when she heard she was on a collision course with death. But now she’s made aware that her future self and Dean are going to face evil as one hell of a power couple, that fear diminishes. She was a teenager when she first started developing feelings for the oldest Winchester brother. She never acted on it, the hunter’s life always getting in the way of their romance. But somehow, despite destiny, despite the horror show that is their reality, they found their way to each other. 

     Seeing just how much her departure wrecked him, she reaches out, moving her hand across the table to take his. She squeezes softly, running her thumb over his skin, rough from the many fights he’s faced. He visibly relaxes, cherishing the moment he never thought he’d have again.      Y/N forces herself to avert her eyes, aware they aren’t alone. She glances at Sam, who watches the two, smiling, but his content expression dissolves when she inadvertently turns the conversation in a harrowing direction.      “What about the others? How’s Bobby?” she wonders, oblivious to the painful reply that is to come.

     Dean’s face falls, closing his eyes in apprehension. Shit, he wishes he didn’t have to break the bad news to her. Bobby Singer was like a father to all of them, but Y/N spent the majority of her childhood under his wing. After her parents died, he took her in and raised her as his own, made sure she could go to school, that she could be a kid. Hell, he was her father, maybe not genetically, but he was the wise man who taught them that family doesn’t end in blood.

     Sam stares back at her, then swallows thickly, letting his head hang. Analyzing his stance, the smile on her lips dies down, frantically searching for an indication that says it isn’t so. When the tall hunter is unable to return her gaze, she fixates on Dean, tears already glazing over her eyes.      “Y/N...” He takes her hand in his now, trying to sooth her and cushion the blow, but he knows there’s nothing he can do that would take the pain away that is about to hit her like a freight train.      “No...” She shakes her head, unable to accept it. “No no no no...”      “I’m so sorry,” he says softly, his heart breaking as he breaks hers. 

     Her bottom lip begins to tremble, her face contorting as she fights the emotions that quickly overpower her. Shimmering pathways of anguish find their way down her cheeks, eventually falling to land on the wooden surface. Y/N wipes her cheeks dry, but it’s no use, new tears forming faster than she can erase. And so she brings her free hand up to cover her mouth, holding back a sob.      “W-when?” she stammers, her voice shaking. “How?”      “In 2012. He... he was shot,” Dean explains, trying to get the words across as gingerly as possible.

     She shuts her eyes now, her throat closing up and she bites her bottom lip, trying her hardest not to break down in front of the boys. She has so many questions of which the answers terrify her.      “Did he die alone?”      She barely dares to look up again, meeting Sam’s gaze this time. He shakes his head, offering her a comforting smile.      “No, we were right there with him,” he assures.      “He’s in Heaven,” Dean consoles, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand. “Cas double checked.”

     Y/N nods slightly, sniffling as she digests the news. Knowing that he’s in a good place right now doesn’t stop the grief from tearing her apart, because she has no idea how to go through life without her mentor to council her, but at least he’s not suffering anymore. A shuddering breath escapes from her lungs as she collects herself.      “What killed him, is it--”      “- dead. Yeah, we made sure of that,” Dean guarantees.      “Good,” she says, her voice having gained some strength. “What about Rufus? Ellen & Jo?”      Sam sighs and looks down, painfully confronted with how many people they’ve lost over the years.      “They’re all gone,” he states, still leaning heavily on the countertop.      Shocked, Y/N stares at him, unable to believe how many have perished.      “So, of the original crew, you two are really the last ones standing, huh?”      “Yeah, I guess we are,” the younger brother confirms. “But we met some great people along the way, I’m sure they’ll be excited to meet you. We’re not fighting the good fight alone, by any means.”      “Glad to hear that. Just, not today? I’m not sure how much more I can take,” she almost pleads, her voice raspy from crying.

     Dean watches her closely, guilt constricting in his gut. Unknowingly, he has pulled her from a time where things weren’t all that bad. If she’s from October 2008, he has just returned from Hell. Bobby was alive, Sam was okay, so were the other people she considered family. They were growing closer, on the verge of giving in to the attraction they felt for each other. But now it’s just the three of them and a ten year gap between her lifetime and theirs. She must be feeling completely out of place, disorientated, exhausted.      “Why don’t we go pick out a room for you, so you can lay down for a bit?” Dean offers, squeezing her hand gently to get her attention.      She agrees and gets up from her seat without another word, mentally too tired to argue. The alcohol is coursing through her system, and although she doesn’t feel highly intoxicated, combined with the range of emotions she just went through, it’s doing a number on her. Honestly, she’s down for a nap, preferably one that lasts a day or two.      Dean lets her go up the two steps first, ready to catch her might her coordination fail her after all. He glances over his shoulder at his brother, who picks up the untouched sandwich and carries the plate to the sink.      “Go ahead, I’ll clean up,” Sam offers.      Thankful, the older Winchester forces a small smile before he leaves the kitchen. 

     Quietly, Y/N follows the broad shouldered hunter who leads the way, her arms crossed in front of her chest, the coolness from the stone walls chasing chills up and down her spine. It’s not just the cold, though, it’s everything. Too much information to process, too much heartbreak to endure. Her brain is overloaded, fatigue hitting her like a ton of bricks.      She watches Dean turn the corner and stroll into a long hallway with doors on either side, gold plated numbers below the Men Of Letters emblem. They stop in front of room 12.      “You can take this one,” he suggests, opening the door for her and flicking on the lights. “I’m right next door if you need anything. Sam’s in room 21.”

     Y/N steps inside, taking in her new accommodation. Despite the use of mostly brick and concrete and the lack of windows, the glow coming from the ceiling light and the lamp on the nightstand feels warm and welcoming. A large mahogany bed is situated against the far end, a matching desk on the left with an old typewriter and a radio sitting on top. Directly behind the door there’s a sink and a medicine cabinet with a mirror on the lid, and a wardrobe next to it.      “We can put a rug on the floor, if you want. I remember how you always had cold feet,” Dean suggests.      She turns in the middle of the room, a small smile on her lips; he’s not wrong.      “I’d like that,” she says, grateful.

     A little uneasy she lets her gaze linger over the still empty cabinets and bookshelves again, feeling foreign in this future that didn’t include her, before Dean wished she was. She realizes there’s nothing to fill them with, no clothes, no books, no picture frames.      “Could I maybe borrow a shirt and some sweats from you? I’m gonna have to buy some new clothes later today,” she asks, a little flustered.      “Sure, but actually, uh…” He rubs the back of his neck, the way he always does when he’s nervous. “I never threw away your stuff. It’s been in boxes in the storage room, so your clothes are probably gonna need to be washed--”      “- Wait, you… you saved my stuff?”

     She stares at him in awe. It’s been almost ten years since she died, and he still held on to all that she owned. Sure, it wasn’t much, since they were on the road most of the time, but still. They didn’t find this bunker until a couple of years later, which means Dean had stored it in a locker somewhere, or maybe at Bobby’s, and picked it up again when they found a permanent home. He had moved her things around for almost a decade, yet never threw them out, even though he knew there was no purpose left for the items that once belonged to her. Just painful reminders of what was and what was lost.      “Yeah, I - I couldn’t really bring myself to throw it out,” he claims, as if he was dodging a task that should have been done long ago.      He isn’t lying. Even though he knew she was never going to return to him, that her life was lost and his love was hopeless, he kept everything she held dear. Her books, her mixtapes, her photos, her jewelry. The clothes she wore, the guitar she played. The stack of coasters she collected, picking one up at every bar they ever had a drink at, from every town they ever crossed. The old school Polaroid camera she brought everywhere, snapping pictures of everything that caught her eye along the way. Sunsets, funny road signs, captivating landscapes, interesting people. There are a few of him, of the Winchesters together, some more portraying the three of them, all squeezed into the shot. She even caught Bobby on camera, ignoring his grumpy mutters when she had fulfilled her seemingly impossible mission.      There’s the music box she got from her mother when she was little, her parents’ wedding album. Lore books, weapons and crystals that Bobby gave her when she first started hunting. The enchanted good luck charm Dean gave her for her birthday. He held on to it all, because he couldn’t bear the thought of having to let her go completely.

     Sympathetically, Y/N observes him. His tough exterior only lets a hint of embarrassment over something so sentimental seep through. But she knows him, she has seen the knight without his armor. She knows how badly he’s hurting.      “Anyway, I’ll - uh, get you some clean clothes and dig up your stuff from storage.” He points his thumb over his shoulder a little awkwardly, excusing himself.      She nods. “Thanks.”

     With a faint smile on his lips he disappears, leaving the door ajar. Y/N breathes in deeply and allows the air to flow out, trying to calm herself down. It’s her first moment alone since she found herself in the year of 2019 and she cannot begin to comprehend what is happening to her. How she time-jumped a decade into the future, having history with Dean she cannot even recall. It feels like she’s in a bad daytime television show, where one of the characters has hit her head too hard and suffers from amnesia, not remembering her lover.      Rubbing her forehead she turns around, trying to massage away the headache. Her eyes glide through her new bedroom again. This is going to be her home now. After moving out of Bobby’s place, she never really had that kind of stability. The closest she came to a roof over her head was her minivan, her little house on wheels. 

     Fingertips grace the covers of her bed, the material soft under her touch, when she hears Dean’s boots echo in the hall. She turns around as he comes through the doorway, holding two boxes with a bundle of clothes laying on top of the stack in his arms. He lowers the neatly taped carton containers to the ground, her name written on them with black marker. Dean made sure to file on the label what’s inside them.      “There’s one more box, your clothes are in that one. I can put them in the washer now, so you’ll have something better to wear than my oversized stuff,” he offers.      “You don’t have to do that, Dean,” she objects, but he shrugs it off.      “It’s no problem.”      His voice is kind, but he’s not taking ‘no’ for an answer. It’s the first time he has moved her belongings without having to fight the tears, without having to pause in order to stop himself from breaking down. He wants to make sure she has something clean and fresh to wear when she wakes up later, finally being able to take care of her again. 

     Dean turns the corner and heads to the storage room, his heart finally calming with the simplicity of being able to do something as domestic as washing her clothes. After picking up the last big box, he exits the storage and pulls the door shut behind him, making his way to the dorm where the washers and dryers are situated. He sets the box down in front of one of the machines, pulls his pocket knife from his belt and cuts through the duct tape. The first item he pulls out, however, steals his breath; it’s the leather jacket she wore that night in Detroit.      Two days after they lost her, Dean wrapped her in linen before he laid her down on the pyre he and Bobby built, her lifeless body still in the jeans and band shirt she had on when she was killed. He took off her favorite black leather jacket, though, wanting to preserve it, even though it was a part of Y/N - or maybe because it was. Traces of faded crimson still stain the collar. Dean shakes his head, trying to ban the image from his mind. The image of the blood running from her nose and mouth as she hung from his arms, dead weight, the spark of life in her eyes long gone.

     After a deep breath, the hunter collects himself and lays the leather jacket aside, then begins to carefully pick out some of her clothes. He makes a selection that fits in the drum, adds a laundry pod and turns the machine on. He hopes the old thing does a better job at washing away the memory of her death than he’s doing.

     When he enters Y/N’s room again, she has changed into the black shirt and grey sweatpants he offered her. She spins when she hears him, an amused grin adorning her face.      “Nice socks,” she chuckles, showing off her novelty footwear with burgers and milkshakes on them.      “Shut up. Sammy gave them to me for Christmas,” he utters, a blush on his cheeks. “Your stuff’s in the washer.”      “Thank you,” she returns, grateful.

     A silence followers as Dean lingers in the doorway. This would be the moment to give her some space and retreat to his room, but somehow he can’t make himself step outside. He has spent too much time without her by his side already, he doesn’t want to waste a second not being with the woman he’s still unmistakingly in love with. She’s his girl, afterall. But that’s where it gets confusing, because he’s not sure how she feels about all this. Y/N was zapped from a time where they weren’t in a relationship yet, so where do they stand in this messed up mayhem?      “Y/N, about that kiss earlier…” he starts off hesitant. “I, uh - I didn’t know you were from a place where we weren’t… y’know, together.”

     The smile on her lips dies down as she watches the hunter, skilled in the field when fighting evil, but now stumbling over his own words. It’s only now that she realizes how surreal this must be for him. His mind probably has archives full of memories she has no clue of, simply because in her time, they didn’t happen yet.      “What I’m trying to say is…” Dean takes a breath, trying to get his message across. “If I came on too strong, or made you feel uncomfortable in any way, I’m sorry.”      He glances up now, watching how she slowly approaches. Gently, she takes his hand in hers, their fingers entwining. After studying their hold for a few seconds, she tilts her head and restores eye contact. The look she gives him is so warm and kind, it mends the broken man that he is.      “I’m not,” she responds, her voice soft.

     She leans in, tiptoeing, and presses her soft lips against his. For a good moment all his grief, the endless regret, the physical pain that became chronic, is forgotten. He closes his eyes and melts into the touch, returning the kiss without hesitation. The voices in his head are silenced, his anxiety calmed. After eight years, eight months and twenty eight days, he has found his missing piece. If her departure from his world didn’t make him realize how much he loves her, this moment surely does.

     The kiss lasts a few heavenly long seconds, but then Dean parts from her, resting his forehead against hers. He sighs deeply, the air leaving him with a shudder. Still high on the ecstasy that the undeniable connection induced, she opens her eyes, but his remain closed. Wondering why, Y/N squeezes his hand. When he does look back at her, the tears bring out his green irises, like holding an emerald gem against the light. Compassionate, she cups his face, tracing the lines of his jaw.      “You really missed me, didn’t you?” she perceives.      He huffs; she’s putting it mildly.      “You have no idea,” he breathes.

     Y/N does, though. Last thing she remembers is how Dean just returned from Hell. In the four months that he was gone, she was completely at a loss. Wildflowers blossomed on his grave from her tears alone. Knowing he was enduring unimaginable torment only made it worse. But when he returned and she was able to close him in her arms again, it magnified everything she had ever felt for the man who went to Hell and back. The rollercoaster he’s riding now is one she’s been on herself, but she doesn’t tell him that; it’s not about her right now.

     She kisses him again, shorter and more sweetly now, smiling at him afterwards until he returns her expression. His eyes are still shimmering, but it’s not sorrow she finds in the depth of his pupils, not anymore. It’s gratefulness, appreciation, love, for her, the girl he lost so many years ago.      “You should get some sleep. You had one hell of a morning,” he says after a quiet moment, unable to look away.      She scoffs. “Understatement of the week.”      He nods grinning, admitting she’s probably right.      “I’ll leave you to it.”      Dean is about to let go of her hand, when her grip on him grows a little stronger, causing him to glance up at her, questioning.      “Could you…” she pauses, not sure if she’s asking too much. “Could you lay with me, just for a while?”      He reads her carefully, pained to see the hint of fear; she doesn’t want to be alone.      “Sure,” he agrees, the single word soothing her.

     Y/N allows his hand to slip from hers now and circles the bed, folding back the covers as Dean sits down to take off his shoes. When he leans back into the pillow, his upper body still slightly elevated against the headboard, tiredness overwhelms him. He hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in forever, Michael always waiting in the shadows when he dares to close his eyes. But when Y/N crawls into his chest, filling the vacant place that has been cold for so long, he sighs content, letting the worry fall from his shoulders. Who knows, maybe with her by his side, he might actually be able to rest.

     She pulls the sheets to cover the both of them, feeling Dean’s sheltering arm wrap around her and pull her in. The kiss he presses to her hair has her bite back the tears yet again. She tries to hide it, not wanting to come across as weak or emotional. The man who has always cared for her, doesn’t fail to notice, though.      “Hey…” he says, softly. “You had a lot on your plate today, huh?”      She sniffles and nods, not brave enough to test her voice.      “It’s gonna be okay, we’ll figure this out,” he promises. “You got me, Y/N.”      “Yeah…” she whispers. “I got you.”

     Dean holds her close, giving her the security and the comfort she is desperately seeking, hoping she might forget about the world she’s in now and the one she was ripped from. Absently, he rubs his fingers up and down her arm, the slow, soothing rhythm lulling her to sleep. Within minutes she’s out, the warmth she radiates slowly melting away the tension in the hunter’s stiff muscles, tired and worn from endless battles with both monsters and himself. Exhausted, he lets his cheek rest against the top of her head, allowing his own eyes to flutter shut as well. The last thing that crosses his mind before he falls asleep is a promise. Past, present, or future, Dean will always be there for the woman who makes him believe in their little slice of apple pie life. A decade of time difference will not change his word of honor.

It took me long enough, didn’t it! Stay tuned for part four, I hope I have gained some momentum now and will able to finish this series sooner than later.

Anyway, thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

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[awhitehead17]

Everything’s Out Of Control

Chapter 5 / Previous Chapter

Also on AO3

Enjoy! :D

“Only you could find the time to train while in another dimension Tim.” Kon comments fondly from his position on the couch. He’s currently eating a plate full of sandwiches which Alec had kindly made for him after Kon had finally woken up.

Instead of commenting, Tim shoots his friend an unimpressed look as he stretches out his muscles in preparation for the training session’s he’s about to have with Alec. The older man was currently rearranging the living room to create space for the two of them. Tim had offered to help move the furniture around but apparently this was a thing he did often and knew exactly where everything needed to go so he politely declined Tim’s offer.

Once a space had been created Alec disappeared from the room only to return minutes later carrying large floor mats.

As the man places them down Kon speaks up again. “Seriously Tim, after this we’re having a vacation. Even if it’s simply you coming to the farm for a weekend or something. You need to relax man.”

Tim finally turns his attention on Kon and crosses his arms over his chest, levelling a firm look at the Kryptonian. “I don’t need a vacation Kon. There’s too much to be done for me to take time away from Gotham.”

“That’s never stopped you before. Come on, not even for a couple days? Your family is perfectly capable of covering your areas.”

Tim shakes his head and looks away, suddenly feeling a dark sensation rolling over him. “That was before Kon… it’s not the same anymore.”

Before everyone died, you died, and I lost a part of myself to the darkness.

Kon looks guilty and doesn’t say anything else. Turning away from Tim he focuses on the sandwich in his hand and continues eating it. Tim sighs and turns back to the rest of the room which is now all set up. Tim’s eyes widen as he notices Alec staring at him with a frown, the older man’s hazel eyes darting between him and Kon clearly picking up on the sudden tension between them.

Tim lets out a sharp breath and steps onto the mats now on the ground, facing Alec confidently. A good fight should help clear his mind from those thoughts. “So how are we doing this?”

Alec steps up in front of him and regards him for a moment before speaking up. “Simple hand to hand at first, we can add weapons later on if you’d like to.”

Stretching his muscles on last time, Tim nods in agreement and puts himself into a defensive stance. He’s going into this spar completely blind of the man’s abilities so he needs to be ready for anything. Alec copies his motions and seconds later the two of them charge at one another.

It doesn’t take Tim very long to realise that the shadowhunter is holding back on him, probably in the mind set of not wanting to hurt him in anyway. Tim smirks to himself, how typical. He knows he’s not the biggest, toughest looking guy out there, especially in his family, but his smaller appearance always leads to the same impression, that he’s puny and weak.

He ducks under a flying fist and quickly twists around to drive an elbow into the man’s ribs. Tim is quick to manoeuvre around to sweep Alec’s legs out from underneath him. When the man hits the ground Tim instantly pins him down by wrapping his legs around the man’s neck in a lock and grabbing his arm and twisting it into an uncomfortable position where it would only take one movement to potentially dislocate his shoulder.

For a moment Alec seems to be frozen on the mat, genuinely surprised by the position he's found himself in. Knowing he's won this round Tim openly smirks as he untangles himself from the man. Once he's standing up Tim offers Alec a hand, “Now are we going to spar or keep playing games until we tire out?”

Alec takes his hand and stands up himself. He looks over Tim with a raised eyebrow, a disbelief smile stretching across his face. “Yeah okay.”

“Okay?”

“Let’s spar.”

They share a smirk and both get into defensive stances. As Tim eyes Alec, he hears Kon comment “This is going to be good…”

He doesn’t get the chance to retort because Alec is suddenly in his space and Tim is forced to jump backwards unless he wants to get smacked in the face by the man’s elbow.

Tim had been right when he thought that Alec had been holding back on him because he’s now fully going for it. Tim is being forced to jump, duck and dodge left right and centre to avoid being hit. It’s refreshing in a way Tim couldn’t describe. Alec’s build is similar to Jason’s as is his height, that’s something Tim is familiar with but all of his moves are different and unpredictable.

As the two of them spar, Tim gets lost in the movements of it all. Time passes by as they trade punches and kicks. Even after they knock the other down they simply get up and start again. Occasionally they would stop to teach a certain move the other didn’t recognise and how to block it, which would lead into another round.

They eventually added in some weapons and to Tim’s delight they choose staffs. Now he has to admit Alec had been beating him in the hand to hand, but with the staffs Tim certainly was excelling. After all, a bo staff is his weapon speciality.

He doesn’t know how long they spar for, but after a while Tim could feel the fatigue setting in. His muscles becoming stiffer each new round they start and his reactions begin to slow down. It’s been a long day after all and a lot has happened over the last 24 hours.

In the end he slips up, one delayed reaction allows Alec to swipe his legs out from underneath him and Tim crashes to the ground hard. Instead of getting up right away he lies there, panting and trying to get oxygen back into his body.

The man appears in his sight above him, looking down with slight concern. “You okay?”

Tim doesn’t have the energy to respond, he simply waves the shadowhunter’s concern away with a flick of his hand and stays lying there on the ground. He could feel sweat trailing down the side of his face, feeling how hot his skin is and the way his muscles are burning. Despite that, Tim’s wearing a small, satisfied smile on his face, having enjoyed the workout.

“I think that's a clear sign to let the boy rest Alexander, don’t you think?” A new voice speaks up sounding amused.

Tim looks around and finds another body on the couch next to Kon. Magnus sits there with his legs crossed, one hand propping his head up while the other holds a drink. Alec turns to his boyfriend and shrugs.  

Next to Magnus Kon lets out a low whistle. “You guys have been at it for like nearly three hours. How the hell do you have that much energy?”

Neither of them respond to Kon as Alec bends down and helps Tim up to his feet. The man has to steady Tim when his knees almost buckle on him. Tim laughs lightly, “It’s been a while since I’ve sparred that hard.” He pulls away from Alec to stand on his own and offers his hand out for Alec to shake. “Good match.”

The shadowhunter looks confused for a moment but soon takes his hand and shakes it. “Quite the fighter yourself. Your skill with the staff is amazing.”

If his face wasn’t already flushed, Tim knew he would have blushed at the compliment. “Thank you. I figured you were holding back that first round and you certainly proved me wrong.”

“Now if you two are done, how about returning my apartment back to a living space rather than a training room?” Magnus suggests pointedly looking between them as he takes a sip of his drink.

Even though Tim could see the smirk on Magnus’s lips as he drinks, Tim couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty for taking up his space. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair and steps off the mats. “Of course, sorry about that.”

Magnus places his glass down and elegantly stands up before walking over towards them. “Don’t be ridiculous Timothy. We had a lovely time watching you pair spar, didn’t we Conner?” The man turns to his friend who Tim only now realises had been staring at him the entire time. Getting called out by Magnus seems to shake him out of his thoughts and Tim sees him go red with embarrassment.

“Uh, yeah – I – uh – guess…” Kon stammers.

Tim couldn’t help but snicker at him. It’s not often Kon is speechless but when it does happen it’s a gem. Something warms up inside of him at seeing how embarrassed Kon suddenly looked at being called out so abruptly, it makes him wonder what he had been thinking about before it happened.

Magnus stops walking when he’s stood by Alec. “Now, Alexander, put everything back to how it was. Timothy, go take a shower dear, there are fresh clothes in your room.”

Alec makes a face at Magnus’s demand. “Can’t you just…” he trails off with a gesture of waving his hand around.

The warlock raises an eyebrow in an almost challenging sort of way. “You made the mess darling, you can clean it up.”

Tim holds back his laughter as the man rolls his eyes but starts cleaning up nonetheless. Tim makes a move to help but Magnus quickly shoos him away towards the bedroom, claiming he should shower then the four of them can think about going out for dinner since it’s getting late.

In the bedroom, Tim finds more clothes left out for him. There were two piles, one of which he assumes is his and the other must be for Kon. Magnus had said about getting dinner so Tim finds a pair of jeans and a simple shirt in the pile and heads for the bathroom.

When he returns from the bathroom the living room was back to how it was before. Tim finds Kon and Magnus chatting on the couch. His best friend looks somewhat tense and a little uncomfortable while the man next to him is sprawled on the couch, relaxed with a drink in his hand.

Kon seems to relax a little when he sees Tim settling down into the love seat adjacent to the couch. Having no idea what they were talking about Tim simply sits there quietly listening in on the conversation.

Once Alec joins them a little while later, after having a shower himself, the four of them head out into the streets of this world’s New York to find a restaurant to eat at. As he walks next to Kon, with the older men in front of them, Tim catches onto the conversation they were having.

“We shouldn’t be out here Magnus. What if something happens and they get caught in the middle of it? What if someone from the institute finds out?” Alec stresses, whispering harshly to his partner.

Magnus seems unperturbed by his concerns. “Relax Alexander, if something does happen then we can protect them. Also young boys like themselves shouldn’t be cooped up all day, they deserve some breathing room.”

That seems to be the winning argument because Alec falls silent after that. A nudge to his side gets his attention and he looks over at Kon who was watching him carefully. “Are you okay Tim? You seem quiet.”

Tim sends his friend a comforting smile. “I’m fine Kon, just thinking that’s all.”

Before Kon could respond the four of them come up to a restaurant that Magnus deems worthy of them eating at.

Dinner goes by with surprising ease. The food was incredible and pleasantly there had been next no awkwardness between the four of them like Tim had been somewhat expecting. Magnus kept up a stream of chatter right the way through, sharing stories from his past. The guy was apparently 400 years old, something that Tim had not been expecting, and had plenty comical memories to share.

While it had been nice and pleasant to do something different Tim couldn’t fully relax into the evening. He had caught Kon several times throughout the night subtly watching him, his friend’s face expressing things Tim couldn’t fully explain. At another point the older men had gone to the bar together and Tim watched them as they spoke quietly to each other, occasionally glancing back at he and Kon. It put him on edge knowing they were talking about them but not knowing in what context.

Other than that the night went by smoothly. After their meal they ended back in Magnus’s apartment where the warlock casually, despite their ages, offered them all cocktails. Alec declined, stating that he's needed at the institute as he’s got night patrol. Tim and Kon also both politely refuse, Tim stating that he's going to call it a night and Kon because he doesn’t wish to drink.

Their responses have Magnus rolling his eyes and calling them all boring. Soon enough Tim and Kon bid the men goodnight and head to their temporary bedroom.

Once they get there, Tim grabs some clothes from the pile on the desk and wordlessly heads for the bathroom to get changed. He’s stalling as much time as possible to be away from Kon. The two of them need to have a talk, things have been tense between them since the living room and Tim knows they need to clear the air before they can move on. It wasn’t a conversation he was looking forward to.

He finishes up in the bathroom and heads back to the bedroom where he finds Kon sitting on the bed reading a book. While Tim had been out of the room, he had also changed into some night clothes.

Tim drops his dirty clothes into a pile on the floor, he’ll have to ask Magnus about washing in the morning, and awkwardly stands around trying to decide on how to start the conversation up.

Apparently Kon’s already thought about it because he’s snapping the book shut and sitting up straight to give Tim all of his attention. “We need to talk.”

Tim swallows, letting out a quiet “yeah, we do,” as he stays standing.

There’s a pregnant pause between them. After a while, clearly seeing that Tim wasn’t going to initiate the conversation, Kon surprises him by asking, “How are you Tim? Really. How are you feeling?”

The question makes Tim shoot Kon a look with raised eyebrows. “How am I feeling? It doesn’t matter. How are you feeling Kon? After all you’re the one that got ripped to shreds, been magically healed and asleep for most of the day, not me.”

Kon huffs in annoyance, clearly seeing Tim’s diversion of the conversation away from himself. Kon continues to surprise Tim though because his best friend lets it slide this time and actually answers Tim’s question instead.

“I’m alright. Mostly tired and could do with some sun if I’m being honest. But yeah I’m okay on the most part, obviously my Kryptonian genetics doing what they do best thankfully.” Kon smiles at the last part and shrugs nonchalantly. He shuffles up the bed and leans back against the headboard, still facing Tim. “I am, however, concerned about you. You’ve been tense the entire time, more secluded than usual. Talk to me man, what’s going on?”

Tim takes a deep breath to steady himself as he feels his emotions building up. In his mind he curses himself, he should be better than this, he should be able to control his emotions from getting the better than him.

Everything’s just been so unpredictable since they’ve arrived in this world and it’s left Tim feeling like he has absolutely no control over anything. The spar he had with Alec and then the dinner the four of them went out for gave him a break about thinking of the situation but the small distraction only does so much.

He had gotten annoyed at Kon earlier for bringing up him needing a vacation because his best friend knows how he feels about the subject. It’s a conversation they have repeatedly and by now it’s not even funny anymore. After everything he went through last year, the whole suicide mission of finding Bruce, Tim still feels like he has things to make up for. Kon knows this because Tim’s spoken to him about it. Of course things are better than what they had been but only by a margin.

He doesn’t know why this whole mission is getting him so worked up. Besides Kon getting injured, nearly dying, everything has been pretty easy, especially considering they found Magnus Bane right away. Why is Tim making it seem so difficult?

Feeling weight of Kon’s stare on him, Tim moves around the room until he’s leaning on the desk chair with his back to Kon. “I don’t know Kon…” he whispers defeatedly. This is his best friend, someone he should be able to simply open up to no matter what and knows he wouldn’t be judged.

Kon stays silent and Tim huffs, pushing himself away from the chair to start pacing the bedroom’s length. The sudden need to move is itching away at him as he tries to express his thoughts and feelings.

“It’s just - I don’t know… everything’s just…” unable to form words he simply makes a frantic gesture with his hands to explain what he’s on about. Tim sighs and runs a hand through his hair and starts again.

“Everything is just so out of control here. It’s so different. I mean, it’s not the first time we’ve entered an alternate reality, a different world or even a different dimension but for whatever reason this time I’m just… not handling it well.”

He feels vulnerable and Tim hates it. He's supposed to be a team leader, the one who takes control even in the most difficult of times, the one to remain level-headed when everything goes tits up. Zatanna had chosen him for this mission because of his ability to ‘get the task done as efficiently and smoothly as possible.’

What a load of bullshit that is.

“And that's okay, you know.” Kon comments quietly from his position on the bed after a while. “Tim you’re only human, you can only take so much. You can be thrown into the exact same situation countless of times and every single one of those times will have a different outcome no matter what. It doesn’t matter if you’ve been through dimension travel before, this is still a new world, there’s no way to be able to predict anything that’s going to happen.

No one is expecting you to be perfect. I’m certainly not. I just want you to be okay because I can see you beating yourself up about it. I didn’t mean anything by the vacation comment earlier, like I said I’m worried.”

Now Tim feels even more like crap. He didn’t mean to make Kon worry about him. His best friend is the one who’s been injured and nearly died, yet he’s there worrying about Tim’s mental health. He sighs, should he have expected any different? Kon is always caring about others before himself, it’s one of the traits Tim loves about him, his selflessness.

Kon seems to know what he was thinking because the half Kryptonian is now sending him a disapproving look, “Hey, no. Don’t go feeling guilty, I’m fine, physically and mentally fine. They patched me up good, once I’ve seen some sun I’m good as new.”

Tim shrugs, unable to help the way he feels. Getting up from the bed, Kon walks over to him and just like earlier that day, Tim finds himself wrapped up in a warm, comforting hug. He closes his eyes and basks in the comfort, the content feeling continues even after Kon rests his head on top of Tim’s.

“Hopefully tomorrow Magnus will get everything we need and find a way to send us back home. Back to our world where we can deal with our own demons and creatures.”

His comment does the trick of pulling a smile out from Tim. He hopes that will be the case tomorrow.

When it feels like Tim has control of his emotions and thoughts again he reluctantly pulls away from Kon. His best friend lets him go easily but places a hand on his shoulder, Tim finds the weight of it grounding. “You good?”

Tim shrugs, “Okay as can be I guess. Thanks Kon, sorry for being a mess.”

With his other hand Kon reaches up and cups Tim’s cheek, his thumb brushing across his skin softly. “I’m here for you okay. Sometimes you seem to forget that. I can’t change the past and I’m sorry I wasn't there for your darkest time Tim but I’m here now and will support you every step if the way.”

And doesn’t that comment make Tim’s brain short circuit, his heart pound inside his chest and his legs weak. Why is this guy so perfect?

Tim stares at Kon, taking in how close they were. His face centimetres from his, his hand warm and solid on his cheek, his blue eyes seeming to be so piercing and intense as they stare into Tim’s own, his plush lips against tanned skin and a defining jaw line that could make anyone jealous. His best friend was gorgeous. And that was without knowing what a kind, gentle, caring soul he is.

Tim wants to kiss him.

A small movement grabs his attention, it was nothing more than a slight jerk towards Kon’s face, but it was enough to break his thoughts. Tim feels himself blush and he pulls out of Kon’s hold.

“We – uh, we should um, get to bed. It’s late and it’s been a long day.” Tim stammers his words as he heads towards the bed. Wordlessly he climbs underneath the covers and buries his face into the pillow he’s using in a poor attempt to hide his embarrassment.

There's a long pause until he hears Kon walking around the room, moments later the lights turn off and then there’s a weight settling bedside him on the bed as Kon climbs onto the mattress. His best friends takes a moment to settle but then everything goes still.

Tim desperately tries to ignore everything that had just happened. The somewhat emotional talk, the vulnerability he had been feeling and then the way it felt to be pressed against Kon’s form and then finally the way he wanted to kiss him. It really doesn’t help that Kon is right there next to him. How the hell is he supposed to go to sleep after all of that?

Tim sighs and buries his face impossibly further into the pillow. This is going to be a long night.

[tchalla-rogers]

Charlie’s Angels

AVENGERS FANFICTION (eventual steve rogers x reader)

series masterlist

PART 1. I Have A Plan

next part: PART 2. PART 3. PART 4. PART 5. PART 6. PART 7. PART 8.

“I have a plan,” your friend Claire stated, as three of you gathered in your apartment’s living room. Three vigilante women in their twenties with superpowers living in a dingy apartment, struggling to pay off their student debt. What could go wrong? 

You have the blonde Claire Borne who works in a law firm and fucks her boss to get extra on her next paycheck. She has a lot of men under her sleeve who surprisingly haven’t figured out that they’re all the “side chick”. You’ve definitely seen more than three in her room in one day. It was definitely due to her ability to control all of their minds, but you wouldn’t say anything. Especially due to her superhuman strength.

Next was Salia Frazier, who works as an accountant but she still couldn’t make enough money to get out of this apartment. Most of her money was going to rent and more bills, but not enough was going to paying off her college debt or saving up for moving out. She wasn’t that mad because these two girls she lived with were her best friends. They were thankful when none of them felt like moving off of the couch to get the remote and Salia could use her telekinetic powers so they didn’t have to move an inch. Now, that was perfect. She even had the same super strength as Claire.

And then there was you, Y/N McAvoy. Thanks to your parents dying in a plane crash on their way to Europe, they left their flower boutique shop to you. Of course, this was until you finally found a job that fits with your degree. Even though you were undecided for most of your college career, you took an interest in studying Criminal and Forensic science. This florist life wasn’t cutting it and you hated some of your favorite flowers now. Sometimes you would accidentally cut yourself, but you could thank your quick healing powers for not having to deal with much blood. Besides that, you had super strength like the other two, which you all had finally gained control of. You all decided to take self-defense classes to attempt to learn how to fight and the super strength came as a shock to all of you. 

The three of you met each other freshman year of college and took a trip to an abandoned building far behind a frat house. And then BOOM, the three of you are here fighting for the law but against the law. “Better be a good one this time,” Salia mumbled, grabbing her glass of wine. It wasn’t the first time that Claire had come up with ideas that were not substantial. 

“Hey, don’t come for me.” Claire crossed her arms and then grabbed the wine from the table and pouring it in her own glass.

“You’re going to need our approval, or you're doing the job alone.” 

Claire downed her glass of wine and already began pouring another and said, “It involves killing someone.” She swigged the contents in her cup around, looking at both of your shocked faces. You had killed other people before but you were hoping that this would be a quick mission. 

“Yeah, it’s a no for me,” you declared after a few seconds, looking between Claire and Salia. “We need money, not to kill someone. And don’t use your mind control powers on us.”

Claire sat down between you and Salia and laughed. “I promised I would never do that, jackass.”

“We also promised not to have this end with someone dead.”

“Okay, well, we know that Victor Martinez stole close to three million dollars and will be sitting at the gala down the street from us tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes, tomorrow,” she clarified. “We still have that poison from the last mission. I say you and Salia slip in and waitress the event, slip some in his food. I’ll use some mind control and have him up under my sleeve. I go to his hotel and steal anything he has on him.”

You stared at Claire, instantly reaching for the wine to gulp down any thoughts you had and quiet yourself. Salia groaned, always expecting for Claire to be the one to take the man to the bedroom. She could thank her mind control tricks, but Salia did note that she was an attractive woman. “I’m in,” Salia simply replied and stood up. “And I’m going to bed.”

“It’s 6 P.M.,” you stated, looking at Salia questioningly. 

“I tend to sleep earlier before we kill someone. It’s my nighttime routine.” Salia grabbed her fuzzy blanket and put her wine glass in the sink. 

You laughed, “You could go famous on YouTube for that video.”

***

the next day

It was disgusting looking at so many rich people fake laugh a million times but the food was amazing. The poison was hidden underneath the napkin in your hand and your gun tucked neatly in your pocket. You spotted Victor Martinez in the gala an hour ago, but now Salia and you were waiting for Claire and him to sit down for dinner. They talked, laughed, whispered to each other, drank...and now it was time for the dinner. 

By the kitchen, Salia and you were mumbling to each other about the plan. Each person that walked past was barely paying attention to you two. There were so many people here, it was easy for you guys to slip in without them questioning you. Stupidity. 

“Okay, you put it on the food now. I already poured some in this wine,” you stated, grabbing an expensive plate of steak that smelled really good right now.

“That’s a perfectly wasted bottle of wine.”

“Tell me about it.” 

The two of you walked out into the dining area, slipping away from each other. You walked around, watching Salia place her plate down in front of Martinez. She smiled and winked at Claire and then looked to you, giving you the signal. You slipped past a few people sitting at their tables, asking you for some wine. When you reached the table, you eyed Claire. She nodded at you secretly and then looked around the table to make conversation with the people around her. “More wine,” Martinez ordered in a monotonous tone. He had his arm laying on the back of Claire’s chair and raised his glass to you.

“My pleasure.” You slipped a large amount of the wine in his glass until he told you to stop. He barely waited for you to step away before he downed the entire glass in a few seconds and wiped the wine dribbling from the side of his lip. You smirked at Claire, making your way to the kitchen to finally leave. 

“Ma’am, some wine?” someone asked, raising their glass.

“Ask someone else.” You finally made it to the kitchen and poured the contents of the wine down the drain, leaving it next to the other empty wine bottles. Salia came up behind you and the two of you waited and drove your car outside of the hotel for Claire to do her thing. 

It was a good idea that the two of you snuck some food into your pockets while you waited for Claire. It took almost an hour and a half for her to finally leave the apartment, tucked in her peacoat jacket, attempting to stay warm in this winter weather. She slipped into the back of the car and pulled everything out of her pockets. “That dumbass seriously had $100,000 in the suitcase and even showed me it without me controlling him.”

“He showed it to you? Rich people are dumb as shit,” you commented, taking a fry from your food stuffed napkin. 

She took her purse and handed it to Salia in the passenger seat. “That split up could easily pay off a lot of our student loans.” Claire took off her gloves, rubbing her hands together to warm up. “And I made sure to leave a note.”

Salia was checking through Claire’s purse, amazement in her eyes. “What kind of note?”

“A suicide note that states how ashamed he stole millions of dollars from charities. A little mind control doesn’t hurt.” Claire smirked, knowing that she finally had a plan that worked out. 

***

“I think the Charlie’s Angels wannabes were apart of this,” Tony states, standing around the Avengers as they talked about who they were after for the past few months. In front of them was a screen showing all of their hits and murders around New York. Three women with no names going on killing sprees, taking down bad guys and Tony had no idea about their motive. It was definite that superpowers were behind most of their success stories, but Tony was tired of running after them. “Would that idiot really confess to stealing...right before killing himself with poison?”

“Honestly, rich people aren’t the smartest, Tony,” Natasha spoke up, tapping her fingers on the table that all of the Avengers sat at. “One less rich idiot to worry about.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember them being apart of Ocean’s 8.”

“And yet you still can’t catch them,” Natasha mumbled. Deep down she somehow knew that what they were doing wasn’t the smartest, but it was for good reason. They were vigilantes, just like the rest of them. Sure, they weren’t out killing people secretly and they were a lot more public...but they were still killing people who were breaking the law. Fighting for the people who weren’t able to. Tony just never listened to her, though. 

Tony grumbled, frustrated with the motivation slipping from his team. He looked at all of them as they just sat there obviously not wanting to bother catching these girls. They’ve had problems with Victor Martinez before, but he didn’t want them to get away with something again. Tony wanted to deal with him with the Avengers and they did it again before him. He signed off the screen before collecting his papers from the table. “Yeah, okay...meeting’s over.” Tony walked out from the room, getting ready to head to the florist that Rhodey had recommended him. It was Valentine’s Day and he was just deciding to buy the flowers for his date with Pepper tonight. Definitely, the king of procrastinating but that just meant that the flowers were fresher.

McAvoy Florist wasn’t a far drive from the Avengers Compound and it wasn’t far from the restaurant that he had booked a reservation for, either. He just hoped that Rhodey was right about how good this florist was. When he walked in the smell of fresh flowers invaded his nostrils. The different array of colors made his decision harder, but he definitely wanted to get the biggest pre-arranged bouquet that he could.

He spotted a young girl arranging a bouquet behind the counter, listening to the music blasting from the speakers. He watched the bouquet he was making for a few seconds before she finally realized that there was someone in her shop. She set down her scissors, lowering the music on her phone. “Iron Man?” she asked and moved behind the counter. 

Tony nodded, pointing at the flowers that she was working on. “Are those almost done?”

“Yeah, actually. But I was making them more for myself than for Iron Man,” she admitted. 

“I’ll pay…” Tony began rummaging through his wallet, eyes set on the bouquet that she had completed. “$400. Out of pocket.” He slipped the money in her hands as she held a shocked look on her face. He knew it definitely cost a few hundred less than that amount but he also noticed that she was the only one working in this shop. “You own this place?”

She slipped behind the desk, putting the $400 in her register and finishing up some final touches on her bouquet. She was glad because now this could cover the cost of making another bouquet for herself. “Um...yeah. Y/N McAvoy.” When she was finished with the bouquet, she handed it over to Tony Stark. He took the vase from Y/N and smiled at her and made his way to the exit.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N.”

[love-carries-on]

Love Carries On: Chapter XI

So sorry for the wait! I got a little caught up in the research for some upcoming chapters. The next chapter will be out soon, and it’s gonna be big!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Patton rubbed his face as he sat up, blinking his eyes and reaching out with his other hand to try and locate his glasses. He slipped them onto his face, blinking a few times to adjust. As soon as he could see clearly he turned and looked at the clock on the nightstand. 1:00 pm blinked back at him. He was out of bed instantly, How did I sleep so late? Why didn’t anyone wake me up? He rushed over to the mirror to fix his hair, he didn’t reach for the comb, because whenever he combed his hair he hurt his head, so he pushed through it with his fingers, getting it to lay flat as best he could.

Then, he went out into the living room, finding Logan sitting at the couch with Stella at his feet and Diego at the computer, a word document open. Patton went into the kitchen, finding the remnants of spaghetti in the fridge. He dished himself some, heating it up in the microwave.  He ate in the dining room, his phone set out in front of him. He was  scrolling through a website that sold fidget toys. He was looking through them, trying to decide if he should hint to one of his boyfriends that this is what he wanted for Christmas or if he should just buy something for one of them and hope that they also bought him something he’d like.

He slid out of the website, switching tabs to look instead at guitars. He was thinking about getting Roman a guitar, because if he remembered correctly, Roman had played for many years, but in the move from College back home, his guitar had been damaged beyond repair. Patton’s main concern was the price of guitars, they could range well over three hundred dollars, and Patton was concerned that if he got something expensive for Roman his other boyfriends might feel left out. He pulled on his hair nervously.

“Hey D and Lo? Can you c’mere for a second?” He wanted to talk to them about helping to pitch in for a guitar as a shared gift from them all.

After a few minutes, he was joined by them both. “Yes Patton?”

“I was wondering if you’d like to pitch in to help for the gift I want to get Roman for his birthday. It’s sort of expensive and I don’t want to spend more on him than on you guys.”

“What are you thinking of getting him?”

“A guitar.” He showed them the one he had in mind, a dark wooded one, with a burnt in pattern of swirls and curls, many of them similar looking to musical notes.

“Interestingly enough, I was also considering getting him a guitar. I would be happy to pitch in.” Logan couldn’t see the guitar but the noise of approval from Diego and the excitement in Patton’s voice was good enough for him.

“I’d be more than happy to help.” Diego could already envision the excitement that he would feel upon receiving the gift.

“Awesome, we could go today!”

“Patton, do you know what day it is?”

“Uh, Friday?”

“Patton, love, it’s halloween.”

“Oh.” He looked at them both, feeling somewhat stupid for not thinking of that. “In that case, maybe we’ll go tomorrow?”

“There might still be time today.” Diego compromised.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course Pat, it’s an hour drive into the nearest city, and it shouldn’t take us long to get all of the equipment and the guitar. Of course you’ll need to hide it somewhere he won’t find it until Christmas, but it isn’t really that late. We should be able to return home before Roman and Virgil get home and require us to go out for Halloween.”

“Well then Let’s get ready to go!” He bounced up, collecting his empty plate and hurrying it to the sink before going back to his bedroom and getting changed.

He met Diego and Logan in the living room, having swiped the keys to the car off of Roman’s side table. Logan had Stella on her leash, and she was sitting at attention, having recognized that it was time to work.  They went outside, getting into Roman’s car and heading for the city. Logan was in charge of the radio, which led to mostly classical music, with an occasional talk show thrown in. It was a peaceful drive, and Patton enjoyed it immensely. It was sort of like taking a break from all the hustle and bustle of normal life.

After getting a little lost, they finally arrived at the music store. They got out, Diego holding the door open to allow Stella to get out. Logan took hold of her leash as soon as she was out, and they went inside of the building. The man inside the building was older, with a long beard and long hair. He smiled as they came in.

“Can I help you?” He looked between them, looking over the counter to smile at Stella.

“We’re looking for a guitar, an acoustic? And some extra strings because he’ll probably play it a whole lot. And - -”

“Hold on there kiddo,” He held up his hand and came around the counter. “Let’s find the guitar first, then we’ll talk about strings and cases and such.”

He showed them around the room moving past the pianos, electric guitars and other musical instruments. There was an entire corner dedicated to just acoustic guitars, and quickly, Patton and Diego started to look around it. There were a lot of guitars that looked pretty similar, mostly of a mid tone wood with black accents.

“Ooohh, here’s one Lo, it’s red in the center and it fades out to really dark, almost like black.”

Diego took his hand away from the one he had been touching. “Oh that one’s really nice! I bet he’d love it.”

The man got the guitar down for them and offered it to him. Patton held it out to Logan so that he could touch it. Then, he leaned down and held it out to Stella, partially as a joke but he wanted to see her reaction. She sniffed it and then sat back on her haunches, which Patton took as a show of approval.

“I think we’ll take this one.”

The guy nodded, “Alrighty, let me get a case for that, with a shoulder strap and I can get a few sets of extra strings, meet me at the front counter alright?” He walked away, heading for a door near the back of the store.

It was somewhat difficult to weave their way back to the front counter because he had led them back into the store away from it, but eventually they found it. As they sat the guitar on the counter, he came out of the backroom with everything in hand.

He rang everything up. “Your total comes to $410.88”

Patton had previously pulled off about two hundred dollars in total and with the contributions from Logan and Diego, they paid for the guitar. It was a bit of a struggle to figure out how to load the instrument, but after putting it in the trunk, and making sure that it was tucked securely back, they were homeward bound.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist (?)

@mayflowers07

@librowyrm

[endless-whump]

Marcus and Luca: Alone

Trigger Warnings; implied institutionalized slavery/pet whump, implied child abuse, there really isn’t anything heavy in this chapter

----

The rain poured down on the two as they walked, cars speeding by every once in a while on the quiet road. Luca held Marcus’s hand tightly, the teenager staring blankly ahead as he kept pace.

It was dark, the night illuminated by street lights and buildings, the air smelling of rain and gas. Luca shivered, trying to shake the memory of the cold metal in his hands, the ringing of his ears as the gunshot went off. The bruises made every step ache, his teeth clenched as he stayed focused. Stayed on task.

He was sharply aware of the letter tucked into his jacket pocket, the one with the safe house address he couldn’t read. It was in Quebec, and how they were going to get there was something Luca couldn’t even begin to try to think out. His main objective right now was to get as far away from that damn house as possible, and to get Marcus safe.

Marcus had taken the collar off as soon as Stephen had left the house that morning, and the barcode on his wrist was hidden by his jacket, so to the casual passerby they could’ve easily passed as brothers, or even a father and his son caught in the rain on their way home.

“L,Luca?” He turned his head sharply as Marcus stumbled, trying to keep up. He stopped, a hand on the teens shoulder to support him. “C,can we,,we find somewhere to stay? S,cold,” Luca’s eyes darted around, knowing Marcus couldn’t keep going like this any longer. They were both soaked, Marcus’s teeth chattering. Luca knew he probably couldn’t either, face numb with cold and legs aching.

“Y,yea, we can. Just n,need to find somewhere.” His mind was hopelessly blank of ideas. He didn’t know where they were supposed to go, what you were supposed to do in these types of situations.

“C,can’t go to a hotel,” Marcus said miserable. “You,,you don’t have an ID,,dad always needed one,” Luca wasn’t sure what that meant, growing frustrated with himself. Any time he tried to look up at the store signs surrounding them blinding pain shot through him, legs threatening to give out as the breath was knocked from him.

Everything was just blank. He didn’t know where they were, what direction they should be going in. He didn’t have any fucking clue how to operate in public, never having left the house for more than a grocery trip.

“Lu,Luca?” Marcus’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. The teen was tugging at his sleeve, trying to pull him in the direction of an alley. “There’s a car, Luca. It’s abandoned. M,maybe we can stay there?” Luca looked in the direction he was pointing, seeing the empty alley. There was a small, abandoned car sitting near the back, the hood torn off and a wheel missing. It was better than nothing.

The two tried to be as subtle as they could, approaching the car with caution. Marcus tugged at the back seat handle, finding it surprisingly unlocked. He quickly crawled inside, happy to at least be out of the rain and wind. Luca followed behind.

He was shaking, hands trembling as he unzipped the backpack. It was so damn cold, and it reminded him of,,of something. He shoved it away before it could develop, focusing on the task at hand. Marcus’s teeth were chattering as he peeled off the soaked raincoat, huddled in the corner of the back seat.

He needed to get Marcus warm, that much he knew. He pulled out a blanket the teen had packed, quickly wrapping it around him and rubbing his shoulders.

“I, I packed food, we need,,need to get a bus. S,safehouse,,need to-“

“Marcus,” Luca said softly. “I,,I know I don’t really know what I’m doing, but I need you to let me take the reins right now.”

Markus went quiet, simply nodding and closing his eyes as he shivered. They could hear the cars speeding by on the road beside them, rain pattering down on the top of the car. Otherwise it was quiet, almost peaceful in the car. Marcus looked so small, legs brought up to curl up tightly underneath the blanket.

Luca curled up beside him, eyeing out the window warily. He watched the water droplets fall down the glass panes, glad to be somewhere he could dry off. This deep, cold feeling reminded him of when he’d been left in the kennel, snow steadily covering him in the early January temperatures.

There were stores and gas stations lining the roads, some visible from their secluded spot in the car. He avoided looking at any of them too much, too scared of his eyes accidentally trailing over the printed signs lining the windows.

He let himself close his eyes, exhaustion dragging at his body. He’d sleep for just a moment, he told himself. Just a little bit, then he’d keep watch. He had to keep Marcus safe.

—

“-ca!”

Luca forced his eyes open, a task that seemed impossible. Every inch of him seemed so cold, so heavy and impossible to move. He felt hands shaking him, a desperate voice beside him.

“P,please wake up, Luca. We,,we need to move.” Marcus was sitting next to him, a panicked expression on his face. “Please Lucas, we need to move now.“

He sat up, noticing he was able to see the others breath. Marcus shoved a pair of gloves and a hat into Luca’s hands, already sporting his own. They hadn’t exactly had time to get dressed properly before leaving the night before, the affects of the cold obvious because of it.

“What’s wrong?” Luca looked around still disoriented.

“T,there’s been a lot of police passing by. We need to get out of h,here,” He was shoving things back into his backpack, two protien bars in his hand, one of which he passed to Luca. He looked down at it, instantly struggling to blink away the flash of pain that followed.

Marcus tried opening the car door, tensing when it didn’t budge. “Luca?” He said quietly. “The door wont open.”

Luca tried his side and got the same result. The rain from the previous night has frozen the doors and locks shut, leaving them locked in the car. Marcus didn’t leave much time for Luca to panic, though, bracing himself on the seat and sending a kick to the door. It didn’t open, but they heard an audible crack of ice. He tried again, this time sending the door swinging open, the cold air hitting them like a punch.

Luca inhaled sharply at the biting wind, climbing out of the car behind Marcus and standing, legs sore.  It looked like early morning, the sky still relatively dark.  It has stopped raining fortunately, but it was still ridiculously cold, the wind sending chills through him.  

Marcus slipped his hand into Luca’s, and the two cautiously made their way out of the alley.  Marcus was right about there being more police around, getting increasingly more anxious as they wove their way through the streets.  Marcus mostly led the way, and they didn't stop until they found themselves standing outside a run down looking diner.  Marcus didn't hesitate as he pushed the door open and walked in, and Luca followed him without asking questions.

The bells attached to the door rang as it swung open, startling Luca slightly.  It was a small, friendly looking place, mostly empty thankfully.  

“We’ll be ok here, I know Jaren.”  Marcus quickly hopped up onto the barstool by the counter, smiling and greeting the young man there, who couldn't have been older than 30.  Luca assumed this was Jaren, standing nervously next to Marcus as they talked. 

“Are you ok, kid? You look like you got into a fist fight, and it's freezing outside.” Jaren barely spared a glance at Luca, but he didn't mind that.  It was warm inside the diner, and Luca found himself relaxing in the safe feeling environment.  He kept his eyes down as much as he could, avoiding looking at the menus and signs covering the walls, but otherwise there was nothing that seemed dangerous there.

“Things got bad at home.  We’re leaving now instead of when planned.”  Jaren narrowed his eyes, glancing at Luca.  

“You sure you don't want me to-”

“No,” Marcus almost snapped, lowering his voice.  “Please, Jaren.  You promised.  Don’t get involved in this.  Please.” Jaren stared at him, contemplating before nodding, not looking happy about the decision.

“Fine.  At least let me get you guys breakfast, you look tired and cold and he looks dead on his feet.  Have a seat, son.”

Luca blinked, unsure if he was being addressed before Marcus patted the seat next to him, the teens legs swinging slightly as he sat up on the tall barstool.  Jaren left briefly, and Marcus opened his backpack and grabbed a map, slapping it on the counter.  Luca couldn't quite understand the lines and markings all over it, but Marcus seemed to be venting his anxiety by trying to explain it.

“We’re in Pittsburg right now.  If we can get to the bus stop, I have enough money to get us to the border station.”  He paused, biting his lip nervously.  “I,,I don’t really know how we’re gonna get across, they were supposed to send an ID for you but,,you know.” 

Jaren came back with two plates, setting them in front of the two and taking the map.  “Eat up.  Geez kid, you’ve really got this all mapped out.  How old are you again?”

Marcus rolled his eyes, picking up his fork and digging into the biscuit with gravy.  “I’m in highschool, I’m not seven.”

Jaren chuckled, pushing glasses of orange juice towards them.  “Basically the same thing.  You should be in algebra right now, not plotting to escape the country.”  His voice was tainted with sympathy, the lighthearted jest concealing how upset the older man seemed.

Luca slowly ate his food, the fresh eggs and biscuits and bacon a glorious alternative to the protein bars and sandwiches and leftover spaghetti he was used to.  

The discussion seemed to freeze to a halt, the two looking at the tv in the corner of the diner. Luca looked up curiously, them both looking pale and panicked

“You told me things got bad, you didn't tell me you,,you didn't tell me it was this bad.  You should have called the police.”

“Shut up!” Marcus hushed.  “They’d just take Luca away.  They wouldn't believe me and you know it, Jaren.  They never did before.”  Marcus was quickly shoving their things into his backpack, eyes darting around.  

“Their saying he fu- that he kidnapped you, Marcus.  Do you realize how serious this is?  Your dad is in the hospital right now.”  Jaren was talking in a hushed tone, trying to keep attention away from them.  

“I don't care.” Marcus said, tears in his eyes.  “We,,we need to get out of here.”  

And that's when there was a yell behind them, and everything turned to chaos.  Marcus grabbed Luca by the arm, practically dragging him from his seat and towards the back of the diner.  There was more yelling, a table crashing, everything a blur as they burst out the back door and back into the cold.  

Luca stumbled as he tried to keep up, not having much speed despite how tall he was.  They darted through the winding streets, Marcus seeming to know exactly where he was going in the New Hampshire town.  Luca tried to block out the people they passed, the loud cars and yelling and the pain in his ribs and head and leg, trying to focus on the teenager in front of him and the sidewalk they sprinted down.  

Everything was a blur, Luca’s senses overwhelmed by the loud sounds of the town and the pain and he tried so desperately to just run, trying so desperately to keep his focus on running away.

They were ducking around crates, pushing past people as they weaved through the crowd, the voices behind them growing distant until they were nonexistent, and a realization hit Luca like a punch as he finally slowed down.

Luca had tried to keep his eyes locked on his distinct, deep green backpack as he ran, not really focused on anything but the teens frantic order to run, and his directions which had eventually stopped. That green backpack was now nowhere in sight.

Marcus was gone, and Luca was alone in the busy street.

------

Hope you enjoyed! Sorry for the cliffhanger XD

I really really liked writing this chapter, but idk how I feel about the pacing, does it feel off or rushed to you guys? Feedback would be greatly appreciated <3

Lemme know if you want to be included or removed from the tag list!

@night-writers @pepperonyscience​ @burtlederp​ @im-not-rare-im-rarr​ @theatrebookchild​ @cowboysrappin​ @spiffythespook​ @lumpofwhump​ @whumptywhumpdump​ @winedark-whump @michelleswhumpyreblogs@albino-whumpee

[yeoobiii]

A New Home | Neighbour AU | Prologue

Prompt: “Hey, I locked myself out, can stay at your place until my roommate comes home?”

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x Fem!Reader, Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N’s life couldn’t have been more ordinary. She lived together in an apartment with her sister, while being a student at the nearby college. The small flat next to hers stood empty for a while now, until one day two young men moved in. What at the beginning seemed like a simple new encounter, tured out to turn her world upside down.

Warnings: swearing (future warnings will be added to each chapter as the story progresses)

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: I’ve finally got some time to write again. Imma be honest with you, I don’t know how far I’m gonna be able to take this story. I’m going to write it as long as I have ideas and have fun doing it. It also depends on the feedback this is getting, if no body wants to read it, i’ll probably not continue writing it. Anyways, I used the prologue to kind of explain the readers situation and to get to know her surroundings. I hope you enjoy!

Prologue Chapter 1

—

Your day was not really eventful, but still at the end of it you found yourself exhausted on the couch in the living room, glad that you made it through another day of work and college. You were lying there already changed into your PJ’s, a plate of noodles placed in your lap, watching the new season modern family on Netflix.

At the moment, you should actually be doing your homework but you figured that if you’d get up earlier the next day, you could still do your homework in the morning right before class. You hated that you were the kind of person who had to procrastinate everything and get it done at the very last minute. Even though at the end, you always had your assignments due on time, you had to give yourself credit for that. You just hated that you put yourself through all this extra pressure due to lack of time. But maybe that’s exactly what you needed. Otherwise, you wouldn’t get anything done, ever.

You had finished your dish, put it in the dishwasher and allowed yourself to have a drink. So, you took a glass and a wine bottle with you on your way back to your comfortable couch. After pouring yourself a glass, you were just about to press start on the third episode of the season as your front door opened.

Your head shot up in a quick movement and you were greeted by the figure of your sister and roommate, who apparently just went grocery-shopping then she was carrying three grocery bags and was currently struggling to get the door open.

“A little help?” she yelped, one bag slowly slipping out of her grip.

So, you got up and held the door open while taking a bag from her. As the bags were all put on the kitchen counter, she mumbled a quick “thanks” and went to take her shoes off. The two of you started to put the groceries away.

“How was your day?” you asked her while putting the butter and the cheese into the fridge.

“Bruh, don’t even ask.” she started, still kind of on edge, “After I dropped Frankie off at our parents’ house, my car suddenly broke down so, I was late to work on a day I was specifically told not to be late. And after that my whole day basically just went to shit. And the worst part of it all, at the store they were out of my favourite ice cream.”

Frankie was your dog. The cutest little corgi someone could ever imagine. Sometimes you had to give her to your parents, though. Every time you knew the both of you were going to have some rough days or even weeks and with that probably not enough time to properly take care of a dog, you decided to give her to your parents. Also, your parents loved her. They would never admit that because they were always against you two having a dog in your own apartment, but after meeting Frankie for the first time, they instantly fell head over heel in love with her. So, they didn’t mind watching her from time to time. And with your finals coming up and your sister being especially busy the next few weeks at work due to a project she soon needed to present, there was sadly not enough time for a dog at the moment.

You didn’t like giving Frankie away. Not because you didn’t trust your parents with her. You knew they were going to take good care of her. Much rather because you always felt bad. To you it always felt like someone could think you didn’t want to take time out of your day for her, to pet her or play with her, which was definitely not the case. You just simply couldn’t. Also, you hated not having her around. She was your favourite part about coming home. She always lightened up your mood and you loved playing with her or simply just cuddling with her in bed after a stressful day. But you knew it was the best for her to give her away for a few days, because you knew you couldn’t take care of her, the way you wanted to.

Your sister was working in a graphic office and was on her way to become a concept artist. She started there as an assistant. Like, the kind to bring you your coffee and your lunch. She didn’t really do much artsy stuff. But as time went by, she started to really proof herself to her boss and everybody else at the office. So, after two years of working there, she was involved in little design projects here and there and often was asked for her opinion. A few months back she got the chance to develop a project all on her own. She always told you it was nothing big, but you knew this was really nerve wracking for her. She started to work more and come home late. So, at evenings you were often alone. At the start you felt kind of lonely, because you were used to your sister coming home and eat dinner with you for your whole life. But as soon as you realized how much this actually meant to her, you found a way of dealing with it. At the end, you always still had Frankie.

“What about you? Did you finally talk to that cute guy from work you’ve been talking about for days?” she teased, the smirk on her face growing. She knew she would get on your nerves with that one.

“No, I didn’t. Well, I kinda did because I have to work with him. And I’m not talking about him often, shut up. I don’t even know him!”, You flinched back at her.

“Maybe you should change that.” she started. You wanted to interrupt her, but she just kept talking, “Y/N all you ever do is come home and be in your room, studying or lay on our couch all day. You barely go out anymore. And it has been over three years since you introduced me to someone you really like.”

You rolled your eyes at your sister. She knew that meeting new people and especially dating wasn’t as easy for you as it was for her. Since she was sixteen, you’ve never witnessed her being single for more than three months.

“You sound like Mom.”

“I’m just worried about you.” she assured you and slightly stroke your hair.

“Well, don’t be. I’m doing great on my own, thanks.”

The bags that only ten minutes ago were filled with groceries are now empty and its content safety stored in your cupboards and fridge. You decided it was time to end this argument and go back to your series.

“Anyways” your sister changed the subject, which you were very thankful for, as she was following you to the couch in the living room, “I wanted to tell you that the new neighbours are gonna move in on Monday”

You groaned and threw your head back, new neighbours, great. You knew it was silly and not going to happen, but you hoped that the apartment right next to yours would stay empty forever. Or at least for as long as you lived in this apartment building. Your last neighbours weren’t quite the match. Also, on Monday started your two weeks off. You got a whole two weeks off of college to study for your finals. So, you were actually hoping for it to be a rather quiet day.

“I know, I know. But I heard it’s going to be two guys, around our age. Maybe they are cool.” your sister explained a little bit too optimistic for your liking.

“I thought maybe we could, I don’t know, bake them a cake or something” she suggested.

“A what? Why would we do that?” your head shot up and you looked at your sister in confusion.

Meanwhile, she spotted the wine bottle on the coffee table in front of you and made her move to pour herself a glass.

“Because maybe it will set us of for a good start. And who knows, maybe they are cute.” she pointed out, shrugging her shoulders while a small smirk was forming on her face.

“Lu, you have a boyfriend!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air.

“I meant for you! For fucks sake.”

There we fucking go again. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at this comment. Your sister wasn’t wrong, though. Maybe a kind gesture like that could set the foundation to get along well in the future, because you really didn’t want history to repeat itself. And maybe who knows, you were going to have a somewhat decent relationship with your new neighbours.

“Fine, lets bake them a cake, whatever.” you agreed.

“Great!” your sister smiled “you’ll have to make it though.”

“What? Why?” you hissed at her, getting up from your comfortable lying position, sitting up straight to be eye to eye with her.

That was typical for your sister. She suggested something and at the end you had to do all the work to make it actually happen. You loved your sister, but that was a character property that really got on your nerves.

“I have to work on Saturday and on Sunday I’m at Matt’s.” she casually explained, taking a sip wine from the glass you originally put there for yourself.

“I really can’t believe you”, you took the whine glass out of her hand and emptied it, “Fine, I’ll do it.”

Matt was your sister’s boyfriend. They were dating for almost a year now and you could tell that your sister really liked him. You liked him too. He was always nice when he was around and he was good for your sister.

Shortly after your little argument, the two of you just continued watching Netflix where you left of. At around eleven o’clock your sister decided it was time for her to get ready for bed. So, she got up and wished you a good night, putting a kiss on the top of your head.

“Good night, love you.” you retorted, watching her on her way to the bathroom.

“Love you too.” she closed the door behind her.

At around twelve you also got up to call it quits for today. You cleaned up the living room and soon after went to the bathroom to brush your teeth. Ten minutes later you were found in the warm comfort of your bed sheets, fast asleep.

Saturday afternoon you were standing in front of an empty bowl in your kitchen, the flower and milk standing right next to it. Fuck it. You went to get your car keys from your nightstand, put on some shoes and were off to the supermarket where you ended up buying a cake which you could easily make look like you did it yourself.

You’ve barely seen your sister all weekend which meant you had the whole apartment for yourself, which you usually liked. But after quite some time it can get kind of lonely. You took the time to prepare your studying for the next two weeks, though. Which for you meant, making sure there were enough snacks around.

On Monday, your sister still hasn’t shown up. You were up at around 9 am. You made yourself breakfast and ate it while continuing watching modern family. At ten o’clock you decided it was finally time to get some work done. Studying went great for the first half of the day. The new neighbours were always at the back of your mind, though. You were wondering when they were arriving and what they would be like.

At around two in the afternoon, you first heard some people talk outside in the hallway. You instantly assumed the new neighbours arrived. So, you got up from the kitchen table and went to prepare the cake. For you their arrival came at the perfect time, because you really needed a break from starring down at your books. If you were honest, they could have shown up at any time of the day and you would have been glad to have a reason to not study.

The cake was done quickly. You just melted some chocolate and used it as cake glaze and after you also put some sprinkles over it. Even though you barely did anything, you were proud of how “your” cake looked. You also continued to hear people walking and talking in the hallway, right next to your apartment, which assured you that the new neighbours were actually here.

So, now you had to plan out how you were going to do this. Was it easier to wait until they are finished getting everything in the apartment? They don’t need some random girl trying to put something in their hands while they are busy carrying boxes. On the other hand, they’re maybe glad about a snack as strengthening.

That’s also a point you very much disliked about yourself. You overthought everything. Even such a silly and innocent thing as bringing your neighbours a cake. At this point, your sister was usually taking over. She was way better at talking to strangers and new people in general. She just had way more charisma than you. Bad thing for you was just, your sister was no where to be seen. So, you could either wait until she got home, even though you had no idea when she would show up again, neither did you want to listen to another of her speeches about how you have to handle stuff like this on your own and just talk to people. “It’s not that difficult, you just talk to them.” Yeah, no shit Luna. Never would have come up with that idea…

As you were thinking about the scenario in your head you ultimately decided to just bring the cake over like right now. Just to prove your sister wrong. Within thirty seconds you were standing in the hallway carefully carrying the cake on a plate. As you turned your head to the right, you saw multiple packing boxes pilled up in front of the front door of the apartment next to yours. As you spotted them, you instantly regretted the decision you just made about a minute ago. You were about to turn on your heel and walk straight back into your apartment, but as you were about to turn, a young man around your age, carrying yet another box to the entrance of their flat, turned the corner and with that irrevocable appeared in your sight. The boy, much to your dislike, spotted you instantly and you froze in your tracks.

“Oh, hey” he started and placed the box he was currently carrying on the ground and made his way over to you. “I’m Harrison. You must be our neighbour. Nice to meet you.”

He held his hand out for you to take it.

You had to agree on with your sister on one thing: This boy right in front of you was quite the eye-catcher. You’d never say that out loud, though. He had somewhat short, ash blond hair and was not extraordinary tall, neither was he small. You could also get to the conclusion that he was doing sport when you looked his figure up and down. But the feature that most stood out about him, were his ice blue eyes. You had never seen eyes like this before.

You were struggling to shake his hand with the cake still in your hand. He must have noticed that, so he just went in for a short one-armed hug. Ah, A hugger, you thought.

“Yeah, hi. I’m Y/N.” was everything that you said before your mind went blank. That’s what always happened. You already pictured yourself standing here in an awkward silence for another five minutes until you began to slowly moving backwards into your apartment while he dedicated his attention back to his boxes.

But to your relief, Harrison was quite the talker.

“So, for how long have you been living here” he asked, seemingly still excited about the new encounter.

“About two years now.” you somewhat stuttered, your mouth speaking before you could even think about the question.

“You think we made the right choice with the apartment then?” he wondered, pointing at his open apartment door.

“Yeah- yeah, sure. The apartments are great. And it’s also pretty quiet around here as well.” you somehow managed to answer and at the same time hoping this wasn’t about to change with their arrival.

“Sounds great” Harrison retorted, an excited smile forming on his face.

It was quiet for a few second as Harrison’s eyes spotted the cake you were carrying in your hands once again. As you realized what he was looking at, the purpose of this whole thing came back to your mind.

“This- This is for you by the way” you held the cake right into his face.

“Really? Thank you so much!”

Just as he was about to the cake out of your hand his friend appeared behind him, also who would have guessed it, carrying boxes.

“Hey Harry, we got like the best neighbour ever” he looked over his shoulder at his curly haired friend which speared no time to make his way over to the both of you, “She made us a cake!”

“It’s from me and my sister, to welcome you in the apartment building and as our new neighbours” you explained, your hands now behind your back since you didn’t know what else to do with them.

“Awesome, thank you. You gonna regret that, though” the curly haired boy said and smirked slightly as he went back to carry the boxes into their shared flat.

“He’s just joking” Harrison clarified, making a note in his head to slap his friend at the back of his head later.

“Would you stop flirting and help me with our stuff, dickhead?” you two head harry shout form inside the flat. Oh, this boy is definitely going in for it, Harrison thought.

If your eyes did not completely betray you, you could see a slight blush forming on Harrison’s face, which you unintentionally mimicked.

“I gotta go, sorry. But thanks again for the cake”, Harrison thanked you a last time.

“Yeah, totally. I also gotta get some stuff done. And it’s no problem.”, you slowly started to take little steps backwards in the direction of your apartment door.

He waved at you and soon disappeared through the door frame into his apartment, “For fucks sake, what was that for?”, you could hear him slightly hiss, before you yourself closed the door to your apartment.

So, you know officially met your new neighbours. But not even in your wildest dreams you could have imagined what was about to come.

[barfzal]

sunflower

word count: 2,200

warnings: none! just lots of sunshine + happiness  

requested: yes!  

a/n: okie dokie artichokie! here is a lil adam lowry piece where that beautiful soft boy just can’t keep his hands off of ya. got a lot of inspiration from the song sunflower by rex orange county! again, i am so grateful that anyone even reads what i write at all, so i deeply appreciate the comments and kind words on my past writing! i got a few requests, and in a bit i’ll post what my to do list kind of looks like as far as writing goes, but if you have a guy you want to see me write about, please be patient with me! as always, i have so much love for you all and hope you enjoy this one ⋆ mia

A weighty, white comforter and sea of various plush blankets wraps you up in a warm cocoon of the California king sized bed while your eyes start to open. The sun pours in past the linen curtains, flooding the bedroom with a tepid glow, and you feel one of Adam’s bulky arms wrap over your stomach, pulling you into him. He dragged your body gracefully over your side of the bed, and into his body, and he lets out one of his groans born from the depths of his throat. He rubs his nose just behind ear and slides his nose along your scalp, inhaling the scent of your shampoo until he presses a kiss into your hair. The warmth of his bare chest pressing into your back spreads over your body, and you relax in his grip while letting out a soft hum to acknowledge his kiss. He rests his cheek on yours, and the texture of his bearded jaw grazes your cheek while he smooths another kiss on your temple, and you let out a sleepy moan while turning over to face him. Your face is eye level with his defined chest, and you lift your eyes to meet the cobalt of his eyes that’s illuminated by the light in the room. “Good morning,” you whisper to him, and he mumbles back sleepily. “Morning,” he rasps out, his voice deep and croaking from the back of his throat. A loose smile pulls at your lips while your fingers slide down the surface of his strong chest. 

You lift your chin to press one tender kiss to his lips. His lips press back into yours drowsily, but as you start to pull back from his kiss, his fingers slide up over the side of your neck, and lace into the hair on the back of your neck. Adam reconnects your lips with a passionate kiss. His soft lips open and engulf your bottom lip, and it conjures a deep groan from his lips. He sucks lightly on your bottom lip before pulling his face away from yours. His oversized palm slides from the back of your hair, and his lips form a small grin while he delicately traces your cheek with the pad of his large thumb. “I love you,” he sighs out and it makes you giggle quietly while you burry your face into his chest. “I love you, Adam” you breathe before kissing over his muscular chest. You leisurely sit up, and a few notches in your spine crack as you settle upright, but before you could start to crawl out of the comfort of your bed, Adam’s large hand wraps over the front of your stomach, and he pulls you back into his chest, earning a quiet giggle from your lips that sounds more like a squeak. “Baby, I have to go make us breakfast. You have to be at the rink in a-” you mumble to him while he pushes another kiss into your lips, interrupting your sentence. When his lips detach, you let out a sigh. “Hour,” you finish with a smile curling at your mouth. Your thumb gently smoothes over his eyebrows, neatly brushing the hairs in one direction as you rub your fingers over them and pat his cheek softly with your palm once you are done. “Fine,” he sighs while sitting up, and stretching out his tall frame before. 

The sunlight carves out the muscles in his back while he stretches out of the bed, and his black Calvin Klein briefs hang off of his defined hips. His broad shoulders fill the frame of the bathroom door as he disappears in it. You follow behind him, and arrive at the double vanity where Adam is wiping his face with a white towelette, catching droplets of water that roll down his neck after splashing cold water over his face. His eyes follow your hand as you reach for your toothbrush, and hurriedly he snatches the brush and lifts it over his head. “Adam,” you whine out, already protesting with your arms falling to your sides. “Stop messing around,” you complain though you knew he only did it to get that reaction from you. Your hand rests on his chest for leverage, as you stretch to your tip toes and attempt to reach up his long arm. Your hand got to about the height of his bicep, and you reach out hopelessly for it. “Give me a kiss, and you can have it,” he teases you with a smug smirk, teasingly twirling the toothbrush between his fingers. Your eyes narrow at him, making him giggle, before your hand slips behind his neck, bringing him down to your lips. Your lips connect, and you gently suck on his bottom lip. In the heat of this kiss, his hand absentmindedly falls down, and you quickly pull your lips from his while you grab it from him fingers. He lets out a chuckle, and you playfully hit his abdomen with the back of your hand before you spread toothpaste on the brush and stick it in your mouth. Adam grabs his toothbrush to do the same, and the both of you stand next to each other, brushing your teeth before you spit and rinse your mouth. You wipe your wet chin, while Adam is leaned over the sink to spit in it, and press a kiss into his temple. “Clean up, and I’ll make us some breakfast,” you whisper into is ear before walking off. 

Your feet are cold against the wood floor of the apartment, and you walk into the kitchen, while Adam’s shirt that you wore to bed swings off of you like a dress. The fabric that came to his hips, meets the middle of your thigh, and the short sleeves fall past your elbows. You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear before reaching into the cabinets for the ingredients for pancakes. You start to measure out the flour and sugar, pouring it all into a bowl when you hear the music from the bathroom cease, and you knew Adam’s short shower was over.  You’re pouring the batter into the pan, adding blueberries into the pancakes when you hear the slight thuds of Adam’s feet against the floor, but flipping the pancake required almost all of your attention, so you don’t lift your eyes to him when he opens the refrigerator to prepare his cold brew. You flip the pancake successfully, and your lips open to praise yourself when Adam’s arms wrap around you. His arms are heavy around you and hold you snuggly to him. He kisses your ear, and you let out a hushed giggle. 

“What has gotten into you?” you laugh out as he runs his fingers over the surface of your stomach and pulls you in closer into his body. His huge build engulfing your figure, and he hovers over you, instantly inviting a sense of safety and comfort when he scoops you back into his arms. “Nothing, I just like holding you,” he mumbles with a little sigh that comes out like a laugh as he presses a kiss into your neck. With his head buried in the crook of your neck, you can smell the rosemary and eucalyptus of the body wash you picked out for him. You inhaled the sweet scent before humming out in response, and you turn your head to press a kiss into his forehead while you slide a pancake over to the plate. His hands unfold from around you to tend to his glass of cold brew, but every once in awhile he would lift his eyes to glance over you with your back turned to him. One by one, you stacked the pancakes onto two plates, while Adam sips his coffee from a metal straw. You left two on a plate for you, and five others stacked on his plate. You grabbed the glass jar of maple syrup from your favorite farmers market, and poured some on your pancakes before sliding the jar to him. You take a sip from his coffee, while sprinkling strawberry slices and blackberries on your plate and offer him the bowl of fresh fruit, which he scoops onto his plate.

Adam lifts your plates, and you both walk towards the cushioned breakfast nook. The warmth from the window hugs your skin, and you relaxed into the cushioned seat while Adam wraps an arm around you. “Thank you for breakfast, baby girl,” he murmurs into your ear after swallowing down a mouthful of the sweet breakfast and tart berries. You grin, he leaves a sticky kiss into the base of your neck and you giggle out. “Adam, you have syrup on your lips,” you laugh while his fingers gently trace over the exposed skin of your thigh. Your hand that wasn’t holding up your fork, sank between his parted thighs, rubbing over his grey sweatpants. He takes you by your cheek, gently squeezing your cheeks as he does so, before kissing your lips. His lips taste candied as he runs his fingers up your thigh and squeezes there lightly. Your head rolls back into his chest and relaxes into him. You sigh, cutting one piece from his stack of pancakes and lifting it to his lips. He bites from it and licks his lips as he chews. “I know the chef at the rink probably cooks better, but I appreciate you spending the time with me,” you hum out to him. He blows a raspberry at that and swallows down the food you just fed him, his throat flexing as he does so. “You know I’d choose breakfast with you any day,” he says while you feel the rough texture of his fingers slide over your knee and back up your thigh. His graze was gentle in contrast to the callouses of his palms. Your eyes flash to the watch on his wrist while he hums and presses warm kisses into your shoulder blade, his fingers grasping you by your waist and pulling you into his lap. “Baby, you need to go soon,” you warn as he turns you over. 

You’re now face to face with him, your nose rubbing into his, and your foreheads rest against one another’s. You take in a deep breath and close your eyes as you relax into him. One of his arms wrap entirely around your back, his hand resting on your ribcage, underneath your breast, and his other hand seeps into your hair, gently curling his fingers into it and holding you to him. Your fingers clasp around his neck. Slowly you trace your fingers over his scalp through the silk, light brown hair of his. His thick eyelashes lift, and his cobalt eyes glisten under the sunlight. You both smile harmoniously, and he pushes his lips to yours, interrupting your smile. You kiss him back. The kiss was lighthearted and made the insides of your stomach coil up. Your toes curling in his lap and his hand gently running back down your spine. He moans out between your lips and you moan back with him. Your lips feel warm and raw from the delicate sucking and tender kisses. “I love you,” you hum out having entirely forgotten about the time left until Adam had to be down at the rink while you stare down into his eyes. His sturdy hands slide under you and grasp you just under your butt, by the back of your thighs, his fingers sinking into your skin and squeezing there as he presses another kiss into your lips. “I love you,” he moans between kisses.

When your lips draw back, you are both breathing a little heavier than before, and you both fall into small fits of laughter. Your lips settle into a smile, and both of you silently take in the details of one another. Your eyes tracing over the facial hair, the way his lips curve, the arch of his eyebrows, his beautiful eyes. You breathe out quietly, as your fingers slip back through his hair. “You are so beautiful,” he hums out while your gaze meets his. The warmth gathers in your cheeks, and you shake your head shyly. “No wonder I can’t keep my hands off of you,” he says with a little grin. You sink down and rest your head into his chest, your fingers tracing over his chest hair before your eyes lift back to the clock above the stove and you sigh quietly, annoyed that he managed to successfully distract. “Babe you have fifteen minutes until practice starts. You better get out of here,” you say with a chuckle and you crawl off of him. He gets up, and scrambles to pull a shirt over him and grab his keys. As he slips his phone and wallet into the pocket of his sweats, he comes to you to kiss your lips. “This is why Tanev is always making fun of you for being late,” you call out to him as he makes his way to the door. Adam chuckles lightly, and he lets out a sarcastic “Ha, ha,” before closing the door behind him. 

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

Devil’s Temptation pt11

Warnings: Mob Styling warlords, Strong language

Masterlist

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Chapter 11 – Spiral

“I don’t care about any of that just find her!” Takahiro’s voice roared in the loft space. He had been on his phone non-stop since discovering her disappearance. He snapped his cell phone shut and threw it on the coffee table as he took a crouched seat on the edge of the couch and ran his hands through his black hair in frustration.

It had not been easy to get out of that tunnel after the authorities had started to show up. Whoever had created such a disruption was clearly a very capable fixer. Who did this? Seriously the more I think of it the more it points to a professional. Once the official flashing lights and sirens turned up it was only thanks to the lingering smoke in the air that Takahiro and his men had managed to slip past them and returned to their vehicles. When the police knocked on the doors to check on the occupants it was easy enough to blag their way through the questions and be sent home pending further enquires.

There was no coverage in the local papers. The police had at least locked down that possibility. It was deemed an attack by an activist group and it was widely accepted that publicising such a thing would only generate the result that was desired for them by giving them publicity so the whole incident was covered with a gag order. It was one less thing to arrange. That worked just fine for him. 

At first, he had thought that she had just been spooked and had left the limo even though he had told her not to because of the gunfire. She was always running. He remembered her as a child when the families got together for talks all the children were thrown together and told to socialise. We were the futures of our families. Each one of us had an insane level of pressure and responsibility on our shoulders. There was no denying that it was a different and easier time though. Although even back then he was aware of the shadows. How they shifted in favour of one child above the others. As different as those times were, they were still riddled with dangers. Grr… where is she?

“Here’s your coffee.” The soft chink of the mug being placed on the table dragged Takahiro out of his thoughts. “You might want to charge that soon that battery must be almost dead.”

“Probably right. At this point, it's less a cell phone and more a space heater.” Takahiro sighed as he picked up the freshly brewed coffee and took a sip. The bitter taste did nothing to remove the already bitter feelings that had been surging in him. Where in the seven hells is that girl? Not one of the people out searching for her can find any trace of her. The CCTV feed doesn’t show her leaving the tunnel from either direction. So, she either didn’t leave the tunnel or she was taken out some other way.

No doubt his men that were out searching will report back soon. If there was a different route out, he would soon know. But if someone took her… His mind wandered to the agreement.

“Is there a chance she ran away again?” Shin asked the concern he felt beginning to show more as he watched how unravelled his partner had become in his increasingly frantic search. It would not be long before news of the runaway fiancé got back to the supposed to be father in law, and that was going to start a whole new issue. Shin knew it as much as Takahiro did. When agreements go bad its terrible. When official agreements go bad, you might as well as never been born.

“There is always a chance but I don’t think so.” Takahiro muttered staring into his mug.

“Because it seemed like it was planned?” Shin pushed a little. If there was any way he could help he wanted too. It was his duty as the right-hand man but also his privilege as a lover to relieve the stresses of a situation if it was within his ability to do so.

“That and the circumstances are different. This time she agreed. No, this has to be something to do with someone else. It has to be.”

---

Whatever colour the food had been it was now a swirling indistinguishable mess. The more the spoon dredged through the mixture the greyer it became. Mitsuhide did not have an appetite, and it was similar for the other men in the room too.

Breakfast was as lavish as ever. Masa had not exactly been eating more than usual himself but one thing the guy did when upset was cook. There was always a lot of food but right now it looked like he could have fed every member of staff in the building.

“[Name]’s hardly touched this tray either. I can understand her being upset but I wish she’d eat more.” Hideyoshi announced as he re-entered the room after collecting yet another tray. “She hasn’t opened the door to say anything since then either. I hope she’s ok.” Mitsuhide kept his eyes trained on the swirling mess in his bowl. Of course, she isn’t eating much, She’s feeling terrible again and it's all our… no, it’s all my fault.

“The Lass is in shock she’ll come around eventually.” Masa looked concerned as well.

Glancing over at Mitsuhide who had been sitting in the same position for what felt like forever. Masa grimaced at the sight of the breakfast he had prepared being reduced to… well, whatever that was. It certainly wasn’t food anymore. It took talent to turn something edible into something that just looked like lumpy grey paste. He didn’t have it in him to call the other man out on it and instead averted his eyes over to the food at the side wondering what meals he could make with the leftovers.

“I hope she feels better soon. Did you see her face when she left? It looked like she was crying.” Mitsunari sounded as if he was a lamenting prince that had stepped right out of a romance novel. Always the reliable good guy. I wonder if you have ever broken a girl’s heart into a million pieces. Or perhaps you have and just never noticed. How many girls had been broken by little oblivious Nari?

“How is it you can pick up on that and you are incapable of seeing how annoyed you make me?” Ieyasu sighed in frustrated wonder.

One thing you could count on when surrounded by this group was that at some point something like this was only ever one comment away from travelling down the path of family squabbling.

“Thank you for pointing out my failures Ieyasu I shall try harder so you can be prouder of me.” Mitsunari beamed with all his optimism at the fluffy haired blonde sitting next to him.

“At no point have I ever said I was proud of you.” Yasu instantly went on the defensive. How cute, the fluffy hedgehog is playing with the puppy again.

“Is that so? Well, I shall try to live up to your expectations in order to change that.” Mitsunari gazed down at his plate as he mulled over what he had just been told.

In all their years working together, he was the one out of the group who always strived for improvement. He was diligent to a fault. The fault usually being that he would be so totally lost in study that he failed to survive without interference from Hideyoshi. He really is like a pet.

“What might help is if you hang around each other more.” Masa chuckled as he added to Yasu’s torment.

“Kill me now.” Yasu sulked looking a little like someone had just poured a whole basket of lemons on his head and told him to suck one.

It was a strange atmosphere. no one was what you could call happy, so there was no lively light-hearted feeling to the room. But at the same time, everyone seemed to be attempting to make an effort to remain as normal as possible. The phrase “damned if you do and damned if you don’t” crossed Mitsuhide’s mind as he sat there poking his blended meal around its bowl.

“Mitsuhide.”

“Mm?” Mitsuhide looked up at Hideyoshi who had moved next to him at some point during the morning’s entertainment.

“How are you holding up?” Hideyoshi’s worried gaze was too much. There he is in all his mothering glory. Oh no, you don’t its unsettling when you look at me like that. I neither want nor deserve your pity.

“Oh? Do I qualify for mother’s attention? I’m touched… truly.” Mitsuhide smirked. There is a limit to how much of this… treatment you can take. It is not so much a question of how, but when do you blow up? Are you aware that this is one of my most favourite games?

“You might be able to pull everyone else’s strings but it doesn’t work on me.” Yoshi stood tall in an attempt to be intimidating. Do you really think such tricks work on me? In all these years have such tactics ever worked on me?

“Really? And there was me about to compliment you on being a rather good marionette.” The spark in his yellow eyes flashed as he delivered his retort.

“If you can tease, you’re probably fine.” Hideyoshi visibly tensed. “Honestly I just wish she was…” It was clear he was too tired and full of concern over all the events that were still playing out like a badly orchestrated soap opera to really wish to retaliate. And that was just fine with Mitsuhide. All the joy I derive from such digressions I find has curiously left me bereft of a desire to pursue them today.

“You wish she was the little girl you remembered? All smiles and gumdrops and rainbows? You cannot turn back time Yoshi dear… as much as we may wish too.” Mitsuhide finally let go of the spoon in his hand and picked up his now stone-cold coffee, drinking it as he looked out the window at the storm clouds closing in. You aren’t the only one to wish things were different Yoshi. I would give anything for things to be different right now.

---

Food was flavourless. It hadn’t been like that since, well since she thought she had processed everything from back then. Any semblance of normalcy she had regained evaporated the minute she saw that spectre in the tunnel. I tried telling myself what happened wasn’t my fault. Every time I woke up for that brief moment when I was happy, caught between sleep and consciousness I thought I could feel him next to me. How many times did I pray to just be left in that state?

It was raining pretty hard outside now. The heavy droplets pelted the glass and trickled down.

“Tears from the sky.” She traced a finger on the glass following the traces of moisture as they fell. “I no longer have any left in me to shed.”

Trays of food were brought and left at her door it was the same as before and yet different. This time they weren’t strangers. She knew them. She also thought that they were her friends to a degree. But what kind of friend sees the pain you are going through, knows something that could make it better and doesn’t speak a word? Was it as they said and they didn’t know until after the funeral? Even if it’s the case they could have still said something when they sent over her things. Anything would have been better than nothing at all. wouldn’t it? Would it?

Her thoughts were all messed up. Nothing seemed to be following a single path of logical thought for long before it was derailed and sent off in a spiralling tangent. Appetite was gone, her mind likewise. Seriously what next? I feel like I managed to escape the frying pan only to jump head first into a towering inferno. [Name] picked up her cup of forgotten tea and realised all the heat of it had gone. How symbolic.

She sighed as she moved to the kitchen and poured the contents down the sink. I could make another but I think I’d rather take a bath and see if that helps. Just as she was moving to the bedroom to undress a firm knock at the door interrupted her plans. If I ignore it, they will go away.

– Knock, Knock –

Or not…

“[Name]”

Huh? What can he want?...

“[Name] I am not in the habit of repeating myself. Open the door.”

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