#found some more of these quotations in my phone so here ya go

[centurieslove]

The Merlin Trilogy - Mary Stewart

[tmnt-tychou]

When Leo Met Mona Chapter 2

Chapter two of my Bayverse Leonardo x Mona Lisa fic since the beginning of the story happens around the holidays. As usual, the most current chapters can be found here.   While the first few chapters only have language, there are more mature scenes later in the story. Read at your own discretion.

@thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83

When Leo Met Mona

 Chapter Two: Holiday Secrets

“Yo, Leo, where ya goin'?” The blue-clad turtle paused in his exit at the sound of Raphael's voice. He turned to find the larger turtle's form swallowing all the space around him in the sewer tunnel.

“You goin' on one of your 'walks?'” He made quotation marks with his fingers to illustrate that he didn't buy that all Leonardo did was walk when he went out. “It's not even Thursday.” “Thursday's Christmas,” Leonardo said patiently. “I'd rather spend that day with all of you. So I'm going on my walk today.”

“Yeah, and you missed last Thursday,” Raphael continued, searching his brother's face for some sort of tell. “Why was that exactly? Off your cycle?”

Leonardo didn't play into the goading. “All the more reason to get out today. You know with April this year, this place is going to get noisy. I'd like to get a little quiet time before that happens.” Though they had known her for a handful of years now, she wasn't always around for Christmas. April liked to travel for the holidays, a tradition she started before she met the guys. But this year, they had convinced her to stick around for Christmas and they were low-key all excited for it. Mostly low-key

Raphael unfolded his arms, loosening his stance. “Yeah, Mikey won't shut up about it. He's going to turn this place upside down just for her.” Leonardo looked him in the eyes. “You really don't mind. It will be fun. But I'd like a moment of quiet and zen before all that happens.” “Alright, Leo,” Raphael relented. Even though he didn't know what the blue-clad turtle did when he left the lair, he wasn't hard pressed to know. The lair was small, stifling. Each one of them had their ways of getting out and away to get some space from the rest of the family. As a turtle who coveted his own privacy, Raphael certainly didn't want to take that away from any of his siblings.

He clapped Leonardo on the shoulder with a “Later, bro,” and walked off.

Thinking he would now be able to leave without further detainment, Leonardo was proven mistaken to find Donatello now standing in his way. The leaner, purple-clad turtle stubbornly held out a small device to him.

Leonardo gave him an annoyed look. “Really, Don?”

Donatello took his wrist, slapping the homemade cellular device in his palm. “Splinter's orders. I made them; no one leaves the lair without one.” Leonardo frowned at the thing. The cell phones had tracking devices in them. “Look, I don't care where you go, Leo,” Donatello said. “I don't monitor everyone's whereabouts. Just take it in case you need us. Or if we need you, okay?”

Without a word, Leonardo tucked the device in his belt and went on his way. Donatello adjusted his glasses as he watched his brother go.

*********

Mona Lisa answered her door, eyes bright and a Santa hat on her head. She was wearing the ugliest Christmas sweater Leonardo had ever seen: a reddish brown color with reindeer. Behind her, a single string of multicolored Christmas lights hung without grace by a few thumbtacks.

“Leo!” she beamed when he was safely inside. “Merry Christmas!” She threw her arms around him, unable to fully encircle his impressive girth.

He politely placed his free hand on her back to return the gesture, the other seemed to be preoccupied with a bag he carried. He touched the tips of her hair before pulling back. “Merry Christmas. I brought something.”

Mona Lisa's brown eyes lit up. “Yeah?

He gave her a secretive smile before turning his back to her and digging in the pack he brought with him. When he faced her again, he had a tiny tree perched on his head. Multicolored lights flickered on, decorating the turtle in holiday tackiness.

Mona Lisa laughed, clapping her hands. “Best Christmas ever!” She grabbed his wrist, pulling him toward the kitchen area. “I made cookies. We can decorate them while the ham is cooking.”

Behind them, a fuzzy copy of “It's a Wonderful Life” was already playing on the TV with the help of an old VCR. On the counter, sugar cookies in the shapes of snow flakes, trees and such were waiting to be iced while the tantalizing smell of meat and bread wafted from the oven. Leo took a moment to take in the simple, but festive atmosphere and, for a moment, he wished his brothers could be here to feel the peaceful contentment he felt. Though, he had to remind himself, if the others were here, the peaceful part would be tossed right out the window.

Maybe next year. Maybe he, Mona Lisa, and all his family could be together for Christmas next year. With that thought in mind, Leonardo picked up a tree-shaped cookie and a butter knife. Mona Lisa had a few different bowls of colored icing set out. He attempted to spread green icing on the pastry, only to have the delicate cookie break in half under his strength. Undaunted, he grabbed another to try again. By the forth broken cookie, Leonardo was starting to get frustrated.

Mona Lisa was grinning as he huffed. She popped part of one of his failed cookies in her mouth.

“I should be better at this,” he insisted. “I'm a skilled ninja. I know how to control my own strength.” “So you'll never be a pastry chef.” Mona Lisa winked at him. “I still like you anyway.”

At that point, the oven dinged that the food was done and Leonardo's poor cookies were momentarily forgotten in way of ham and potatoes, and James Stewart on the fuzzy screen. Leonardo only gave it half his attention, distracted by his own secret plans. The movie was nearly over when Mona Lisa became aware that his gaze stayed thoughtfully on her far more than the TV screen.

“Something on your mind?” she challenged with a raised brow.

Leonardo placed his empty plate on the floor beside him. “I have a confession. I brought a present for you.”

The girl's face suddenly lit up. “I actually have one for you, too. But you can go first.” “Alright.” He stood, returning to the bag left at the door. He reached in and pulled out what looked like a leather harness, something he clearly had made himself.

Mona Lisa took one look at it and instantly snorted.

“What?” the turtle demanded.

“Leo, I didn't know you were into that kind of thing. Where's the riding crop to go with it?” Her face was full of unbridled glee.

“That's not what it's for,” he insisted.

She was still grinning madly. “Then what exactly do I do with my... present?” He gave her a confident smile. “Come with me to the roof and I'll show you.” Then, he did the one thing Mona Lisa never thought she'd see him do. Leonardo removed those constant sheaths and swords from his back.

*********

Several minutes later, now bundled in her winter gear, Mona Lisa stared down at the street far below and regretted agreeing to Leonardo's gift. At the moment, she was snugly secured in the handmade harness, strapped to Leonardo's back. She clung to his neck, her teeth chattering from more than just the cold as he stood on the edge of the roof, nothing but several stories of open air below them.

“Is it too late to back out now?” she joked with a shaky voice.

His response was calm. “Yes. Hold on.”

With the coiling of powerful legs, they were suddenly airborne. Mona Lisa let out a heavy gasp, clinging to the large turtle's neck as they flew above the streets. They landed on the next rooftop with a jerking halt and Mona Lisa was very glad Leonardo left his swords in her apartment. Her body against the smooth, hard shell was bad enough. Being jerked around against those sheaths would bang up all her bits and pieces.

Looking quite proud of himself, Leonardo only gave her a few moments to catch her breath and he was off, racing effortlessly along the rooftop as if she weighed nothing to him. He sprang into the air again, landing with a graceful slide in the snow. The next building was far too high, even for him. He leaped for the fire escape, catching the rungs of the shaky metal ladder and climbing to the top to do the whole thing over once more.

It took a couple of jumps for Mona Lisa to figure out when to tense her own muscles for a smoother ride. Soon she found her rhythm and building after building flew by before her eyes. Her apartment building was left far behind, just a collection of tiny yellow lights to blend in with all the others in the dark cityscape.

And Leonardo, he was still going at full speed. He was breathing harder, but it didn't seem like he would be tiring any time soon. The added weight of her on his back didn't seem to slow him at all and Mona Lisa marveled at his strength. She felt the power of his legs, watched the rippling of his arm muscles as he hefted them upward. She was suddenly overcome with an urge to feel those muscles moving beneath her fingers and it made her face go warm.

Time seemed to fly by as the festive lights of the city whizzed passed them. At the same time, Mona Lisa was sure they had been out almost an hour now; her muscles were still keeping track of the time. She eventually told Leonardo she needed a break and he let her down, muscles hot and trembling as he lowered her to stand on her own.

Mona Lisa stretched her stiff back, then her arms above her head. Next, she did a few squats to loosen the muscles of her thighs. Leonardo wandered nearby, giving himself a cool down as steam wafted slightly from his heated skin.

“So, I'm assuming that's how you usually get around the city,” she commented.

“When I don't have cash for the subway,” he teased back.

Mona Lisa pulled her fingers from her gloves and rubbed them together. Despite being covered from the wind chill, they were still freezing. She blew on them to try to warm them up.

“Here,” Leonardo said, taking her hands. His fingers were just as cold as hers, but he placed her digits in the crook of his elbow as the heated skin warmed her up.

“How are you not freezing?” she demanded. “No coat, no gloves. You're barely wearing shoes.”

He shrugged. “I'm just that good, I suppose.”

She smirked at him.

Leonardo looked like he was going to say something else when he suddenly tensed. His eyes grew hard, staring at something past the top of her head and Mona Lisa glanced over her shoulder to see what he was looking at.

On the next rooftop over, with a very terrifyingly small amount of space between them, stood several men dressed in black. Mona Lisa barely had a moment to realize they were all armed with both guns and blades before the two of them were fired upon. The sound of gunfire tore through the air as Mona Lisa was suddenly whisked off her feet.

Leonardo raced for the roof's edge, launching himself at full speed as bullets tore up the ground at his feet. Without the added safety of the harness, Mona Lisa had no choice but to cling to his neck. She swore she heard a bullet or two ricochet off his shell as they landed. Leonardo let out a grunt of pain in her ear before leaping over the edge of the second building and dropping out of sight between the two.

In mid air, he caught the rail of a fire escape, then rebounded off the side of the next building to land neatly on the street below. Mona Lisa remained bridal style in his arms as he raced silently through the dark alleys. Internally, his mind was in a panic. Leonardo had broken one of his sensei's most sacred rules: never leave your weapons behind.

Of course, the one time in his entire life he removed his swords, that would be the time he would stumble onto the Foot Clan. Or had the Foot stumbled upon him? He wasn't sure. The problem was even if he could make it back to Mona Lisa's apartment for his katana, he couldn't risk leading his enemies to her home. He would have to get creative and face them without his blades. But first, he had to lead them away from Mona Lisa.

Around the next corner, there were the remains of an old, abandoned building. More importantly, the snow around it was littered with multiple foot prints, a perfect place to hide. Instead of going inside the building, Leonardo knelt next to a pile of wood planks and bricks covered by an orange tarp to help shield the materials from the elements. There was a space just large enough between the pile and the building wall for a thin human to slip inside.

“Stay here,” Leonardo ordered, pushing her into the crevasse. “I'll lead them away.” Mona Lisa stared wildly at his bleeding arm where he had been grazed by a bullet. “You're hurt! Who are these people?” “Foot Clan.”

She froze. The terrorist group known as the Foot were all over the news. She had heard plenty about them, but never actually thought she'd see one in person. She suddenly couldn't think any more. Would they kill her? What would they do to Leo?

Leonardo thrust a phone-like device in her hand. “I'm going to lead them away. As soon as they're gone, push that blue button. Whoever answers, you tell them where you are and you don't leave this spot until they come to get you.”

“But, Leo-”

Strong flashlights licked the side of the building and bullets peppered the brick around them.

“That's an order!”

And with that, Leonardo disappeared from her sight. Mona Lisa remained hunched and shivering in the darkness as she heard the excited shouts of men and more gunfire. Eventually, the noise fell into the distance, and she thought it a miracle the Foot never discovered her. How could they have not noticed her presence with her teeth chattering as loud as a jackhammer?

But soon, everything fell silent. Leonardo was out there all alone and there was nothing she could do to help him.

Tears of fear and frustration stung her eyes as Mona Lisa pushed the button with clumsy, gloved fingers. She held the phone to her ear with trembling hands as it began to ring.

“Yeeeeeees?” came a rather blithe male voice on the other end. The owner sounded somewhat distracted, as if she had called while he was in the middle of something else.

Mona Lisa just sat there, shaking and breathing hard into the phone. She didn't know who this was. Her head had gone completely blank on what she should say.

“Anyone there?” the voice continued. “Leo? If you're trying to give me crap for making you take the phone with you--”

“Leonardo!” She suddenly jumped at the familiar name. “They're after him! He led them away! He needs help! Please help him!” The person on the other end was silent for several seconds. “This isn't April, is it?” “I... don't know who that is.”

More silence. “I'm sorry, I don't understand. Who is this and what's going on with Leo?”

Fresh tears spilled from her eyes, stinging her cheeks as they turned to ice. “The Foot; they had guns. Leo led them away. He told me to call this number and tell whoever answered where I was. But I'm not the one who needs help, he does! He's out there all alone and there's so many of them!” She paused as her whits finally caught up with her. “Is this... one of his brothers?”

“It is,” came the hesitant response. “I'm Donatello.” “Mona Lisa.”

Another pause. “I'm sorry, what?”

********

It took a little ninja finesse to alert both Raphael and Michelangelo about their oldest brother's predicament without Splinter finding out, but Donatello managed to rally the other two and flee the lair without raising suspicion. But it wasn't just their sensei Donatello was withholding information from. As he told the other two about Leonardo's encounter with the Foot, he purposefully left out the fact that the phone call had been with a woman and not Leonardo himself.

Donatello considered himself a prudent turtle. There had to be a reason Leonardo had not shared his friendship with this Mona Lisa with the rest of them. And the purple-clad turtle wasn't about to be the one to spill the beans until he had more information about the situation. For now, he would steer his brothers in the direction of finding Leonardo and let the rest of his secrets sort themselves out in their own time.

“Where to, Donny?” Raphael demanded as they ran. He was getting further ahead in his haste for a fight.

Donatello consulted his instruments, distracting him from keeping an eye on the tunnels before him and slowing him down. “We're getting close to the spot where he dropped the phone. We'll have to track him from there. The next manhole cover should put us almost right under it.”

“Dude, sensei's going to flip when he finds out Leo went out to fight the Foot alone,” Michelangelo said. “He's gonna be in so much trouble.”

“He'll be in more trouble if I find out the Foot got the better of his ass,” Raphael grouched back. “What's that idiot doing going out alone like that?”

Up ahead, dim light coming from a streetlamp on the surface trickled down from the holes in a manhole cover. Raphael surged up the ladder, easily knocking the heavy cover aside, but struggling to wriggle his impressive bulk out of the opening. He heard Michelangelo snicker below him and blindly tried to kick his brother in the face before finally yanking himself free.

Instantly, the red-clad turtle was in the snow like a bloodhound, checking all the human-made prints for something a little more abnormal; something with two toes.

“I got him! Looks like they chased him this way. Come on, Mikey!”

“I'll catch up,” Donatello called after them. “Gotta find the phone first.”

If either of the other two had a response for him, they were already too long gone for Donatello to hear. Good, he preferred it that way. Once alone, he consulted his instruments again and followed the tracking signal right to a pile of construction material covered by a raggedy tarp. Pushing his glasses further up his nose, he crouched before the only opening large enough for a person to hide. In the darkness he found a shivering, female form who stared at him with large, haunted eyes.

“Hi, Mona Lisa?” he said gently and placed a hand to his plastron. “Donatello, at your service.”

She didn't move.

“You're safe now, it's okay. Come on out.”

Slowly she revealed herself, standing on weak, shaky legs. Donatello noted he had never met a human with such large, expressive eyes before. Not that he had met that many humans to begin with.

“What... what about Leo?” she asked in a small voice.

“Leo will be fine, I sent our two other brothers out after him.” The girl's skin was so pale, her lips nearly blue. Donatello was sure that wasn't a healthy sign. He wanted to put his arm around her, pull her in close to warm and assure her. But he also had no idea as to the proper physical protocol between a mutant turtle and a human female on their first meeting, so his arm just hung awkwardly in the air. “Come on, let's get you someplace safe and out of the cold.”

When he guided her to the open manhole, he thought he might get some argument from it, but Mona Lisa followed without hesitation into the darkness. There, Donatello lead the way through the dark tunnels, his brain going a million miles an hour. What was he supposed to do with this girl? Did Leo mean for him to take her back to the lair? Where else could they go? He really had no choice.

Behind him, the human stumbled in the dark, sliding painfully into a pipe sticking out of the sewer wall. The tunnel was nearly pitch black inside. Living below ground their whole lives, the turtles could see quite well in the sewers, but Mona Lisa didn't have such a luxury.

“Sorry, I forgot to bring a flashlight. You could... take my hand... maybe?” There was apology in his voice at the suggestion. Human girls like April, they were so dainty and beautiful. Being around them made him feel awkward and ugly, like he had no right to even look at such creatures, let alone force them to touch a thing like him. But he didn't want the girl to hurt herself in the darkness either. He couldn't imagine Leonardo being too pleased to find this Mona Lisa more banged up than when he left her due to Donatello's negligence. He at least had to offer; his hand held out shyly, too timid to look at her reply.

In the darkness, a smaller hand found his and Donatello stiffened as it tightened around his fingers. There was no hesitance as Mona Lisa moved in, attaching herself to his arm and holding tight.

Oh, God, Donatello's mind suddenly panicked. He never thought he'd find himself in this situation in a million years. Oh God, oh God, oh God. A girl's touching me! She's holding my hand! It's so small! IS THAT HER BOOB ON MY ARM? I'm feeling a girl's boob!

“Thank you,” Mona Lisa said, throwing him from his internal panic attack. “Thanks for coming for me. I know this is really pathetic. I wish I was better at things like this. I wish I knew what to do instead of just stupidly hiding there, waiting for help like some dumb little kid.”

“No, no, it's totally okay! I don't mind at all, really. Any friend of Leo's, you know?” There was a moment of silence as he led them along. “Um... if you don't mind me asking, how long have you known Leo?”

“Since this past spring sometime. Not... too long.” Actually, Mona Lisa remembered up to the exact date and time she met Leonardo, so significant an event it was in her life. But she decided to downplay it. She almost started in on how the two of them met, but then closed her mouth again. Leonardo never told his family about her for a reason. Still, she felt bad that she was a blatant secret in the midst of this brotherhood and there wasn't much she could do about it.

“Could you maybe... do you know why he's never mentioned you before?” Donatello asked. “Uh- you don't have to answer that if you don't want to.”

“I'm honestly not sure. He's told me a bit about you—that he has brothers— but he's never offered anything more than that and I never asked.”

“Oh. Well, I guess that's Leo. He likes to keep to himself most of the time. Not that we're his family or anything.” Donatello couldn't help but let that last comment slip out. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little hurt at knowing Leonardo kept such a secret from all of them.

Mona Lisa sensed it instantly. “I really had a feeling he was planning on having us meet sometime in the near future. I think he was just waiting for the right time.”

What time would that be? Donatello idly wondered. When he was announcing plans to marry her? He was suddenly so curious as to what exactly his brother's relationship was with this woman, but he knew it would be a bit too forward, too impolite to ask. Having seen the woman for himself, he didn't blame Leonardo for wanting to keep her from his brothers. While she wasn't as drop dead gorgeous as April, this Mona Lisa was pretty enough with full lips and large, dark doe eyes that could really drag a turtle into their depths.

Shaking himself, he asked her no more questions as he guided her through the darkness. Mona Lisa seemed satisfied with the silence, the chill of her shock still working its way through her system. But she was thankful to be underground. It felt safer here in the dark. It was strangely warmer as well. The frigid winds could not reach them in the tunnels as steam from heated pipes hissed in the blackness.

Mona Lisa wasn't sure how far they walked, how much time they spent wandering the tunnels. Her thoughts continued to bring her back to Leonardo. Where was he? Did his brothers find him? Would he be okay? She should have insisted he take his swords along somehow. How would he fare now against a group of armed men? Would she ever see him again?

“Here we are,” Donatello said, breaking her from her thoughts. Lights appeared ahead as they stepped into a large, oval entrance way. “Home sweet home. Watch your step.”

Mona Lisa stepped over the raised doorway, her hand still in Donatello's to keep her balance. She stared in wonderment at the compact den, decorated with a few decade's worth of eclectic souvenirs and clutter. From boomboxes to vinyl records, old traffic signs and license plates; posters, trinkets and a mismatch of old furniture.

This was their home. This was Leonardo's home. Mona Lisa fell in love with it instantly.

“If you would like to take a seat,” Donatello was saying, motioning to the couch, “maybe I can find you something to drink. I'm sure we won't be waiting long until-”

“Donatello!” a sharp voice interrupted him.

The turtle flinched, stiff at the terror of being discovered. He slowly turned around. Behind the impressive girth of the turtle's shell, Mona Lisa managed to catch a glimpse of a rat like figure in a dark robe standing before them. This had to be their sensei, their father.

“What is going on?” Splinter demanded. “Who is that and why is she here?” “Well, uh, you see, she was hiding, sensei,” Donatello fumbled. “I found her- I mean, I didn't just randomly find her on the street and bring her down here, that would be stupid.” He snorted with a nervous laugh. Donatello was never any good at articulation when under pressure. “No, see, this started when I got a call from Leo. He-”

“Leonardo?” The rat's ears perked up and he looked around, suddenly realizing only one of his four sons was anywhere around. “Donatello, where are your brothers? You will come with me, you have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Yes, sensei.” Donatello's breathing had gone into short, nervous breaths, but he followed as he was beckoned. Boy, they were in it now.

Mona Lisa sat obediently on the couch, waiting with hands in her lap. She could hear the quiet staccato of Donatello's nervous voice, but was unable to make out any of the words. The deeper tone of Splinter rumbled in and out as the two exchanged dialog for several minutes. Mona Lisa had the distinct feeling Donatello was now in trouble because of her and she suddenly regretted being there. She should have just insisted he take her home instead.

The conversation continued and Mona Lisa remained where she was, tapping her foot and glancing around the lair. It was really warm in there, like stuffy warm. Eventually, she shed her coat and gloves, only to find herself still wearing that hideous Christmas sweater. She had bought it for a joke, but she was embarrassed to be meeting Leonardo's family for the first time while wearing it. The sweater came off as well, leaving her in a white camisole.

Suddenly, she heard the rumble of new voices entering the lair and she stiffened, staring apprehensively at the entrance way. Two large turtle figures stepped inside; neither of them were Leonardo. The first one to see her was shorter than the blue-clad turtle, his face banded in orange. He froze when he saw her on the couch, eyes wide. Mona Lisa braced herself for another angry family member.

“Woah!” Michelangelo announced and plopped himself on the couch. The weight of his form dropping next to her caused Mona Lisa to bounce up a little from the impact. Michelangelo stretched an arm around the back of the couch, lightly brushing her shoulders. “Yo, what's up girl. You my Christmas present?” He glanced over to his much larger, red-banded brother who was staring at the scene not looking happy at all. “Raph, look what I got! Christmas came early and Mikey has been oh good this year.”

He leaned in and sniffed her hair. “You smell good, baby doll. What's your name?” “How about what the hell is she doing here?” Raphael demanded. He stood over her, his bulk swallowing up all the free space around them. He was bigger than Leonardo and Mona Lisa was scared. “You wanna tell me what you're doing in my damn home?” Mona Lisa opened her mouth to reply, but nothing would come out.

Michelangelo put an arm around her shoulders. “Relax, Raph. You gotta be nice to the ladies. This is why you'll never get a girlfriend.” He then turned his attention to her. “Calm, sweet cheeks, all the ladies are welcome in the Casa de Mikey.”

Raphael looked fit to start yelling when Donatello hurried into the room, stepping between the human and the massive turtle. “Oh, hey guys. I see you met Leo's friend. He asked me to keep her safe until he got back.” That last part was directed emphatically at Raphael.

Raphael took a moment to look over the purple-clad turtle. Then he glanced back down at the human huddling on the couch while he ran his tongue over his teeth.

“You're Leo's friend, huh?”

Mona Lisa just slumped deeper into the couch, uncomfortable with the dark gaze taking in every inch of her.

“Since he's not with you, I'm assuming you didn't find him?” Donatello cut in.

“Nah, Leo's in the wind,” Michelangelo confirmed. “We found the Foot, but they were just wandering around with their thumbs up their asses. Leo was already long gone, probably laughing all the way.”

“Yeah,” Raphael added, “knowing him, he's out doubling back and doubling-doubling back to make sure they never find him. We won't see him for a few hours.”

“At least he seems to be okay,” Donatello said.

Mona Lisa let out a slow breath. She wished like hell Leonardo was here now.

Raphael picked up his feet and plopped into a sad-looking chair, still eyeing the human across from him. “But he's sure got a lot to answer for when he gets back, doesn't he, sugar tits?” Mona Lisa looked down at the generous cleavage she was showing and self-consciously crossed her arms over herself.

“I'm sure Leo has a very pragmatic explanation for all of this,” Donatello said, trying to keep the peace. “He has his reasons.”

“Yeah, I see his reasons,” Raphael insisted, still undressing the human with his eyes. “Greedy bastard doesn't want to share. Wants to keep all 'a that to himself.”

“Dude, I say go Leo,” Michelangelo cut in. “I didn't think he had it in him, getting a little sweet somethin' somethin' on the side.”

“Guys, she's sitting right there,” Donatello complained, fully aware of how uncomfortable Mona Lisa looked.

“How about it, babe?” Raphael said, giving the human a hungry smile. “You like makin' it with monsters? You into the freaky shit? If you wanna get weird with me, I'd be up for it.”

Her lip trembled, unnoticed.

“Dude!” Michelangelo said. “I saw this freaky video online with a guy and two chicks and they had this donkey--”

“Fuck off.” The room went silent as the human spoke.

“What'd you say?” Raphael challenged with a frown.

Mona Lisa got to her feet, fists clenched and shaking. “I told you to fuck off. I don't have to take this shit. I didn't ask to be taken down here and I'm not putting up with this abuse. I'm a fucking person! My name isn't baby doll or sweet cheeks. And it's sure as HELL not sugar tits, you asshole.”

As the turtles all stared at her, she snatched up her coat and her ugly sweater and stormed out the entrance way with such speed, the brothers were stupefied as to what just happened. “Dude,” Michelangelo finally spoke. “When Leo finds out, he's gonna beat your ass.” “Like this is all my fault,” Raphael protested. “What about the shit you were just talking?”

As the two began to bicker, Donatello slipped out, following the human's retreat. He soon found Mona Lisa didn't get far when he discovered her kneeling in putrid water, vomiting into the drainage system. She looked up at him, wiping her mouth. Her skin was drained of color, her body shaking. Something had happened to this girl, something before this night and far more traumatic. Leonardo's decision to shield her from the rest of his family suddenly seemed quite wise.

Donatello crouched down next to her, giving her the most comforting smile he could as he extended a hand to her. “Here, let me take you home.”

She nodded, letting him pull her to her feet as she put her coat back on. The ugly Christmas sweater, covered in bile, was left behind in the sewer.

When they reached Mona Lisa's neighborhood, Donatello felt by then she was probably sick with them all and he should just let her go. However, his more prudent side dictated that he should make sure the Foot had not discovered where she lived.

Despite whatever personal feelings she had against the other brothers, Mona Lisa followed Donatello up the fire escape and allowed him entrance to her apartment. She had really been hoping to find Leonardo crouched outside her window as always, waiting for her, but he was nowhere to be found.

Donatello looked around the tiny apartment as she tiredly threw her coat on the floor and trudged inside. He had never seen such simple living conditions. A mattress at one end, TV on the other. Not a table or chairs to be found. And he thought his family lived with meager furnishings. Never had he imagined that any human had so little.

“Here,” Mona Lisa said, gathering Leonardo's discarded blades and handing them to his brother. “He'll want these back.”

Donatello's mouth dropped open. Obviously, he had previously assumed that wherever Leonardo was hiding, he had his weapons with him. There was question in the turtle's eyes, but Mona Lisa didn't oblige. She had no more strength for further explanations.

“Do you want me to let you know when Leo makes it back home?” Donatello offered. “I can text you if you like.”

“Oh, that would be great, if you don't mind. Can I get your number, too?” Donatello smiled. “Sure. I'll also give you Leo's number. Not that he really carries his phone around... or touches it... or even looks at it. Maybe that will change if he knows you could be calling him.”

She smiled a little at that and Donatello found himself thinking she was really cute when she smiled.

“Hey, listen, I'm sorry about my brothers. We don't... really get a lot of visitors and we haven't had a whole lot of practice with hospitality... or manners.”

She shook her head. “It's fine. Thanks for walking me home.”

Donatello took the hint. He took one last look around the modest living quarters, noticing Michelangelo's Christmas tree hat on the floor, and then he was gone.

Now alone, Mona Lisa sat herself on the floor, knees to her chest as she looked around. Surrounded by everything calm and safe and familiar, she once more felt as if she would never be the same again. It was a long time before she finally picked herself up, showered and got ready for bed.

Even in the dark, blanket pulled to her chin, she watched the ceiling, brain swirling with thoughts of Leonardo and the rest of his family. As hard as she tried, she couldn't sleep, not if he was still out there in the cold. It hurt that there was nothing else she could do but lay in her nice warm bed and hope.

It was nearly 2 AM when her cell phone pinged about a new text message. Mona Lisa reached over to read it: LEO'S BACK. HE'S OKAY.

For a moment, Mona Lisa thought she'd break into sobs. But eventually her racing heart slowed and she fell into a deep sleep.

[dollslayer]

Sweeter Endings

Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Still reeling from the financial realities of losing your mother you turn to a lucrative website for help and get more than you could have bargained for.

W/C: 5,325

Warnings: Smut (no minors 18+ only), light D/S dynamics, brief mentions of alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, swearing

A/N: NO MINORS, I wrote this for @donutloverxo 's Sugary 4k Challenge (Congrats!!) I love sugar daddy AUs so I was really excited to write this!! If you like it then please like/reblog/comment I'm all ears! Also maybe check out my other stuff if you want! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

____

The saying ‘desperate times call for desperate measures’ was truer than you’d ever imagined and you found out the hard way. Life had hit you hard last year. You had watched your mother succumb very quickly to cancer. A cold that just wouldn’t go away turned into a doctor’s visit turned into three months left to live. Having no one else in her life, the cost of her funeral and medical bills fell to you. The bills outweighing the inheritance you had no choice but to drop out of school.

One year later you were hanging on by threads to keep yourself off the streets without turning to a loan shark or selling yourself. Stocking shelves at a bougie grocery store in Soho by day and bartending in Tribeca by night had you working six days a week. What free time you had you were too exhausted to do anything with. Something had to give or you were going to collapse from the stress, you just didn’t know what.

A couple weeks ago you had been casually venting about how broke you were with a coworker when she jokingly suggested signing up for one of those Sugar Daddy sites. You laughed along with her but it sounded better than getting a third job. You had quietly asked one of your roommates to borrow their laptop saying you needed to look at job postings only half a lie, really and locked yourself in your room.

You were just gonna check out the website, maybe sign up and poke around, it didn’t mean you were committing to anything, just looking. You remembered first looking at the website once your shitty wifi loaded it, promising ‘beautiful and successful people making mutually beneficial connections’. You balked after reading that but you couldn’t look at any profiles without making one yourself so you had set to work.

After making your profile you hadn’t gotten any hits in about a week so you shrugged it off. You couldn’t keep hogging your roommate’s computer anyways so you set off back to work. Your days at the store wore on into endless nights at the bar and you wondered what other options you really had when you had no degree and no experience in any relevant field.

___

6 o’clock on a Thursday night, the typical after work crowd begins to roll in. The bar you work in is upscale, classy. Definitely trying to lure in the businessmen that worked in the area and their wallets. It annoyed you to deal with the same type of customers you did at the store all over again but with the high end crowd came good tips so you couldn't complain too much.

It was busier than usual when a group of men in suits walked in together asking for a booth. You saw a lot of business meetings take place over whiskey sours in this place so you didn’t think much of it. You tried your best to keep tending to your regulars when a pair from the group came over.

One of the men had deep brown eyes and a sly grin that when split gave you the perfect view of the gap between his teeth. He was confident but he had a kind look to him. His friend had dirty blond hair and a beard that clung to his perfect jawline and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t snuck a second look. You turned your back and continued filling orders to distract yourself when one of them cleared their throat behind you.

As you turned to face them you found it was the blond calling after you. His face held a hint of surprise but it was quickly replaced by a look of amusement as he smirked and one brow lifted, like he knew something you didn’t. He was like any other typical customer for you, professional and handsome, probably over-confident in himself. You returned his smirk and prepared your best charming banter. Time to earn those tips.

“Something to drink for you, gentleman?” You offered.

“We’d like a round of scotch for the table over there. You don’t mind bringing it over, do you sweetheart?” the brown-eyed man asked.

“Of course not” you answered. Pricks.

“Good girl” the blond said with a wink. Creep. A hot creep but still. Before you could ask he took his card out of his wallet and put it on the counter for the tab.

____

A round had come and passed, soon they’d asked for another but this time it was just the blond that approached you. You lifted your eyebrows in anticipation of an order.

“You here often?” he asked. Ugh, not even a good pick up line.

“Am I here at my job often?” You retorted with a playful smile.

The man’s shoulders shook as he chuckled. “Sorry you just uh, you look familiar that’s all. What’s your name?”

You supplied him with it and asked him if he wanted another round of scotch. He nodded.

“Smart girl, I’m Steve by the way.” He laid down his business card which you picked up with a look of challenging curiosity. Steve Rogers, CEO of Shield inc.

Oh. You didn’t recognize the name but you definitely knew the company. It felt like a quarter of their employees stopped in for a drink throughout the week and it was prominent enough of a company that you read about it weekly. Play it cool, these types want to feel like an every-man at the bar but still wanna feel important.

You raised your eyebrows again in recognition. “Nice to meet you, Steve, I’ll have your round right out.”

“Good Girl” he winked again at you. Okay so it’s hot, but he’s a total stranger and you don’t even know him. Stay on your game.

___

10 o’clock came around and things were thinning out slightly, regulars made their way out, awkward Tinder dates and rowdy young 20-somethings made their way in. The party of businessmen was still around but they were hopefully wrapping up after the 2 more rounds they’d had. Steve approached the bar once more and you preemptively picked up the bottle of scotch.

“Whoa, easy, girl! I’m here to pick up the tab” He said, taking out his wallet.

“What’s the name on the tab?” You decided to play dumb but based off the grin on his face he knew you were playing with him.

“Steve. Rogers.” He replied, his tone was stern but his eyes told you he was in on the joke.

You cashed him out and left him to sign his receipt so you could make more drinks. You saw him move in your peripheral and turned your head to see his face.

“Have a good night, sweetheart. I’ll be seein’ ya” he promised.

“Take care!” You smiled back.

A few minutes later you circled back to collect his receipt and found three $100 bills staring back at you. You blinked dumbly in disbelief, who the hell leaves a 200% tip? Looking around to see if Steve was still here he was nowhere to be found. You had no choice but to pocket the money.

____

Another week went by and left you wondering how much energy and concentration it would take for you to just evaporate, since that seemed easier than going to work today. Sadly still in solid form, you punched in at the store and stowed your things in your locker.

Your upscale customer base was a mostly pretentious and successful group of yuppies so even though you were grateful to not be on the streets you were constantly reminded of the professional success you couldn’t help but feel that you were missing out on. Stuck instead to listen to incessant whining ‘is this organic? I won’t eat it unless it’s organic’.

The upside of this job was that the time went by quickly because you always had so much to do. Plus with how monotonous the work was it was easy enough to zone out. So much so that you hadn’t heard someone calling your name and approaching you. A hand softly touching your shoulder snapped you into the present.

You looked up, startled to find a pair of blue eyes staring back into yours. You took a step back and processed who it was. “CEO guy?” Steve?

“‘CEO guy?’ I thought I recognized you, ‘barmaid’ or should I say… ‘stock girl?’” He joked using his fingers to make quotations.

Now that you thought about it, the store isn’t that far at all from the bar, it would make sense if he’s in the area. You smiled and tapped your nametag in response.

“I just came in on my lunch to grab a few groceries” looking down at his basket it held some protein powder, some eggs, and one lonely banana. “Clearly, I’m single. But you’d know that already, wouldn’t you?”

Your brows twinged together in confusion. What is that supposed to mean?

“Excuse me?”

He edged a little closer to you and lowered his voice “SeekingConnection.com?”

Your eyes widened in shock. The fucking Sugar Daddy site! I forgot about that! Surprise was quickly replaced with humiliation. You looked down and away as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“I don’t mean to embarrass you” Steve placated, “But I gotta say, I’m pretty hurt you never responded to me. I sent that message weeks ago and let’s just say I’m not used to rejection.” He kept his tone light, letting you know he wasn’t mad.

“I-I um, I’m sorry, I don’t have a computer and they don’t have an app, I was using my roommates’ computer and I guess I forgot about it…” You admitted.

Steve nodded in acknowledgement. Please say something to salvage this conversation. Please.

“Well,” Steve rummaged in his pocket for another business card. “You got a pen on you?”

You dug around in your apron and came up with one. Handing it to him you watched as he wrote on the back of the card. He held the card and the pen out to you.

“That’s my number, I’d ask for yours but I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, you already look like you wanna sink through the floor” Not helping, but I do. You took them from him and tucked them away in the pocket of your apron.

“You do have a phone right?” You only glared at him in response. “Well, if you check your profile, you would’ve seen I asked you out to lunch, offer still stands. Just text me when you’re free”

Should I even say yes? I mean, the winking the other night was weird but he’s good looking and at least somewhat considerate. I mean, it’s not like I had any other intention when I signed up for that site. What the hell. right?

“I… usually work mid shifts so I don’t know if lunch is doable, they only give me half an hour but, maybe we could do coffee? I’ve got tomorrow off from the bar I could meet you” you suggested.

If Steve felt pity for you he hid it well behind the wide smile he made when you offered coffee instead.

“There’s a place around the corner from here, just up a block, you know it? I’m off tomorrow at 6, why don’t you meet me there?”

“Sounds like a plan.” He winked at you again and started walking away. What the hell just happened?

____

You did end up borrowing your roommate’s computer once again when you got home to look up Steve’s DM. Sure enough, there he had been in all his internet glory. ‘Steve, 33, CEO. likes: art, conversation, whiskey. Digging around further on his profile you found that he owned several houses here and in Europe, he had a dog that was cuter than he was, and that he was ‘Seeking deeper connection’. All of these things piqued your interest.

‘Hey, Doll. Saw your profile and I had to ask, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this? Kidding, of course. But maybe you’d care to tell me your story over lunch? Your profile says we’re both in New York. - Steve’ Sent three weeks ago. Fuck.

You had texted him earlier to confirm, which is how you found yourself walking up the sidewalk towards the shop with a mind running rampant with nervous thoughts. What if he just wants to feel big about himself in comparison to me? What would I even really have to offer the relationship? A college dropout working two dead-end jobs with no social life. You needed to snap yourself out of it. You were just meeting for coffee doesn’t mean anything.

Pushing open the door you found Steve waving at you from a quiet corner. He was still in a suit, presumably coming from work himself. Even the buttons on his shirt looked expensive. You were wearing dirty jeans and a worn pair of work boots paired with a flannel. You couldn’t have looked more different if you tried.

“I waited for you to order,” He said. You smiled up at him, only now realizing how tall he was in comparison to you. He ushered you both towards the counter where you both placed your orders. You moved to take your wallet from your purse but he had already beat you there.

“Really? As if I’d let the lady pay, and on the first date no less?” He said playfully.

“Oh, so this is a date now, is it?” You kidded.

Steve shoved his hands in his pockets and gave you that boyish grin and a shrug. The pair of you made your way back to the table and waited for your drinks to be brought over.

“How was work?” You asked, “What exactly is it that your company does?”

“We offer security and surveillance software domestically as well as international. Stadiums, airports, other government buildings. Things of that nature. And work was fine, thank you for asking” Steve said with a genuine smile. “How was your day, doll?”

“Oh, my day was fine, more of the same but y’know,” You answered half-heartedly.

“You know, you never answered me, what’s a funny, pretty gal like you doing on a site like that?”

Embarrassment hit you again, this time maybe accompanied with a hint of shame. You were saved momentarily by your drinks being delivered. He seemed truly interested and since he was paying you supposed you owed him an answer.

“I was going to Columbia and I had a pretty good internship when my mom got diagnosed with cancer. She died three months later and since it was only always just the two of us I ended up footing the bill. I was on partial scholarship but between the hospital and the funeral I can’t really afford the rest of tuition on top of working for free so here I am” you explained, “Oh my god, I’m sorry I’m totally oversharing aren’t I? You probably don’t wanna hear about a bummer like this, sorry”

You tried to laugh to ease the tension you thought you’d created. Braving a look at Steve, he looked thoughtful and only a little bit like he pitied you. You could live with that.

“I’m really sorry about your mom, mine also got really sick before she died, I know it must’ve been hard. What were you in school for?”

___

You and Steve talked for hours, trading anecdotes of childhood and talking about each other’s interests. You had a similar sense in humour so you got on swimmingly. The evening seemed to be coming to a close as the night sky sent in through the window.

Being with Steve was probably the most relaxed you’d felt since before your mom was diagnosed. It became difficult to focus on anything but your financial situation and even though that’s what brought you here in the first place you had managed to forget all about it.

“So look, us getting together wasn’t exactly the most conventional on meet-cutes but to put it bluntly,” He said, “The CEO life makes it hard to meet real people and it gets kinda lonely, I mean, you saw my grocery basket” You both laughed at that. “You need money and I need company, I feel like we could help each other out. Whad’ya say? Think you could put up with me?”

You knew what this was but hearing it put so plainly was a little surprising. At least he was to the point.

“So if I said yes what does that mean, exactly?” you inquired.

“Well,” he started, “We take care of each other. Let me cover some of your bills at the very least, make it so you’d be comfortable quitting at least one of your jobs. And you’d keep me company, we go on dates, maybe you could come over, there’s the occasional work event or charity gala I’d need you on my arm for. Thoughts?”

God I can’t even imagine what it’s like to work only one job anymore. Maybe I could even save up and go back to school. He’s cute and he seems sensible, why not?

“Could we maybe take things slow? What you describe is something I’m down for but I don’t want to make myself completely dependent on you. But I’d love to be there for you, and I have to admit, the thought of only working one full time job is pretty crazy to me” You laughed.

Steve swallowed and placed one of his large, warm hands over yours.

“I can do things the old fashioned way, if that’s what you’d feel good with. I gotta say though, with looks like that it’s not gonna be easy” he jested.

You smiled shyly and looked away. You both stood to leave and he held the door open for you.

“I’ve already got your number from when you texted me earlier but I’ll talk to my assistant about my schedule and maybe I could take you out to dinner this weekend?”

“I um, I’d really like that. It’s a date” You stated.

“Oh, so you think this is a date now?” He jested.

You lightly punched him in the arm and he took the opportunity to pull you closer to him. You looked up to find his face inches from yours. You could smell his aftershave and his deep voice gave you goosebumps when he spoke next.

“I kinda want to kiss you goodnight, would that be okay?”

You could only nod as he shut his eyes and closed in. Your lips met in one perfect, chaste kiss. You sighed and leaned into his hand as it briefly cupped your face.

You broke apart and made promises to see each other soon. You felt like you could’ve floated home as you boarded the subway, caught up in the swarm of newly forming feelings.

_____

You sat in the break room when your phone buzzed to life, ‘Saturday at 7?’

You were about to type out a yes when you forgot you worked closing at the bar. Your thumbs moved quickly to tap out the reply ‘Working, sorry :/ the pitfalls of bartending. Sunday at 7?’

You were nervous telling him no and asking to change plans. You hated not being able to make things work but you only just met the man and the weekend tips were killer, it’s not like you could turn the shift down.

‘Ah yes, almost forgot. Sunday works too, I’ll text you the details. What’s your address? I’ll pick you up’

Oh, God. Steve can’t see my building! His cufflinks probably cost more than my rent!

‘I’ll just meet you there, don’t worry about it’

‘Not a chance, doll. Just tell me where and I’ll come get you’

You let out a worried sigh but knew you had to let it go. You sent him your address and went back to work.

____

Saturday was maybe the longest day in your entire week, in fact you loathed it. Mornings at the store followed by running immediately to the bar. Last call in New York was 4am so it’s a good thing you didn’t try to make brunch plans with Steve for Sunday. But ultimately both your shifts passed without major incident and now it was Sunday and you tried to ready yourself the best you could.

The place Steve mentioned was fancy, you knew that much from a quick search. Panicking instantly upon realizing you don’t really have any nice clothes you turned to your most fashionable roommate for help. She loaned you a cocktail dress that was revealing enough to draw interest without giving everything away. You just hoped Steve would like it.

‘Downstairs, doll. Silver BMW’ you exhaled. Hoo boy, here we go.

____

Steve handed his keys to the valet and rushed around to open your door for you. You held his hand and you clambered onto the sidewalk in your heels. His warm hand on the small of your back as he steered you towards the doors was a comforting weight.

Dinner has been lovely so far, he chose a place that wasn’t completely white-glove but was upscale enough to make you feel only a little underdressed.

You joked back and forth with him over the course of the meal, talked about your lives, and even found out you both have a guilty pleasure for cheesy rom-coms. It wasn’t until dessert and your third glass of wine came that you realized how much time had passed. You frowned slightly thinking of the early morning ahead of you followed by a long night at the bar.

“What’s wrong, doll?”

“Oh, nothing I just didn’t realize how late it was, I’ve got both jobs tomorrow it’ll just be a long day that’s all” you tried to wave it off but Steve frowned in response.

“Quit the bar” he stated.

“What?”

“Quit the bar. This is your card, I’ve already loaded $3000 on there. Put me in touch with your landlord and I’ll get you taken care of.” He slid the card across the table to you. Your name printed on the front. This got real very quickly.

“Steve, that’s.” You were in shock, a loss for words almost “that’s too much, I don’t know what to say.” You felt embarrassed taking the money. You knew that was the essence of your arrangement but actually taking his money had you feeling uneasy.

“Honey, this is what I’m here for. Let me take care of you. Give up your late nights. I wanna take you out on the weekends and you’ll need to be available for events. You can stay at the store if you want but quit the bar, you don’t need it.”

You took a deep sigh. He did say he wanted you to be comfortable quitting one of your jobs; it's just making the change that scares you. But something about Steve felt safe so you nodded and looked up to him.

“I’ll put in my two weeks”

“Good girl” he patted your knee and you involuntarily clenched your thighs. He smirked at that but let it go.

____

A few months had come and gone since that night and your time with Steve had been great. Only working the one job gave you so much more free time. You'd spent a good chunk of it just trying to form a normal sleep schedule but all the time you spent with Steve made it difficult. Not that you minded especially since your allowance was monthly but he’d showered you with gifts here and there.

They started off small, perfume, chocolates and flowers, or a simple pair of white gold hoops that reminded him of you. They gradually became pricier and more elaborate. You’d felt guilty accepting it all at first but he was insistent you deserve the best. He had even mentioned you moving out maybe finding a better place but you reminded him you needed to go slow.

He’d also been nothing short of a gentleman. Out in public at least, you’d learned the hard way that he was an absolute animal in bed. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep your hands off of him.

Something you had appreciated about Steve is that he never made you feel bad or less than for being broke. Never held his money over your head like leverage. You’d felt equal to him in all aspects, understanding you had just as much say as he did.

Still, there was a small nagging voice in the back of your head that reminded you Steve is not your boyfriend. This isn't a relationship and he's looking to get something out of just like you are. But if you were being honest you were catching feelings, it was hard not to when the man was giving you the fantasy. You decided to push that voice aside whenever it came up and let yourself be swept away. Maybe that would bite you in the ass but for now you were happy.

____

You were buzzed into Steve’s building and on the elevator ride up to his penthouse your phone buzzed. ‘I have to make a quick call- I’ve got a present waiting for you in the living room.’ You couldn’t help but feel giddy.

The doors opened and Steve was nowhere in sight but as you entered the living room a bag from Chanel and the Apple Store sat on the table. Oh god, what this time? I swear this man is too much.

You opened the smaller bag from Chanel first and found a beautiful black and white evening bag. It was sleek and simple, very much to your tastes. You were nervous to open the Apple bag, Steve always went overboard. Shakily removing the paper you pulled out the slim case in disbelief. A MacBook Air and a pair of AirPod Pros. The man well and truly spoiled you.

“You said you didn’t have a computer.” His voice came from behind you and startled you.

“Steve, this is too much. You’re too much.” You swung your arms around his neck and kissed him.

“Nothin’s too much for you, doll.” He kissed the top of your head.

“Think you could take a couple days off of work? I just got off the phone and confirmed plans for my house in Nice.”

A trip? France?? Oh my god. How is this my life? You felt so overwhelmed that you grabbed Steve by the collar and brought his face down to meet you in a kiss. His tongue swiped your lips and you granted him entrance. Moaning into his mouth your hands traveled up into his hair, pulling softly and coaxing a groan out of him.

He guided you to sit on the couch and brought you down into his lap. You ground down onto him and felt his hard-on through his slacks. Your hand moved slowly to undo the buttons of his shirt as he kissed down your jaw towards your neck. You sighed softly when he found your sweet spot and started sucking.

He helped you take off his shirt while you got started on his belt and undid his pants. He lifted himself off the couch slightly to move them down to his knees, taking his briefs with them. His cock stood proud and an angry red, leaking at the tip.

“I wanna ride you, I can’t wait.” You pouted as you writhed against him in need.

Steve tutted at you “that’s no way to get what you want. Ask me nicely, baby. Beg to ride my cock,”

You ground down even harder and whined. “Please, sir, please let me ride your cock. I need to feel you, I can’t wait any longer please.”

“Good Girl” Steve's hands flipped up your skirt and found your panties, ripping them to shreds. They were La Perla and had cost a pretty penny but he didn’t care.

He lined himself up and brought you down harshly gripping your hips. You moaned loudly in surprise and satisfaction and wasted no time moving back and forth. Steve made you feel so close and connected to him whenever he fucked you but he still made you feel sordid and dirty. You couldn’t get enough of the feeling, you’d gladly chase it.

His eyes were hooded as watched you chase your own pleasure and giving him some in return. His hands kneaded your ass and smacked it just to get a gasp out of you. He grabbed the back of your head and brought you in for a searing kiss that was all teeth and tongue. He’d nip at you and lick the pain away.

His hips met yours, finding your rhythm and speeding you both up when he gripped your hips.

“Can’t wait to have me, you had to fuck me on the couch huh?” Steve panted, “my dirty girl. So fuckin’ gorgeous.”

You put your forehead against his and went harder, pushing your clit to grind against the muscles of his abs.

“Only yours, sir.” Your orgasm was building. Steve was a pretty relaxed dom but you still needed permission.

“Sir, please let me cum I can’t wait any longer” you tried your best to slow your movements a bit.

“I think you can hold it baby, I wanna enjoy you a little longer”.

You could only whine in response and tried to slow your pace but his grip on your hips and his own movements pushed you further and further towards the edge. You tried to squirm out of his grasp but his hands only tightened. It felt like forever until Steve finally gave you permission.

“Go on baby, cum for me you earned it. Fuck your self on my cock and cum all over me”

Your movements were frantic, desperate to chase your orgasm when finally the perfect angle of his cock inside you and your clit against him set you free. You cried out above him and dug your nails in deep.

Steve held you firmly in place and started slamming into you from below, finally letting himself think about cumming. All you could do was hold on for mercy. Moments later he brought you down onto him one final slam as he came inside of you with a cry.

The only sound in the room was both of you trying to catch your breath. You sighed again and collapsed against him, nuzzling your face into his neck. He kissed the side of your face and let you make yourself at home while he caressed your back.

____

One shower and two more orgasms later you were both clean and made your way to the kitchen. Steve was gathering the ingredients for dinner when you hugged him from behind. Your head resting against his back. Steve twisted around and hugged you in full. You both stayed like that for a moment until you looked up at him.

You were so content. Moments like this where you were just domestic were some of the best between you. It wasn’t about money or material, it was just the two of you making dinner and enjoying each other, no barriers.

“Are you really going to take me to France?” Your voice came out muffled against his chest.

“Of course, doll. After dinner I want you to use your new laptop to buy some outfits for the trip. I left my card in your new purse.”

You lifted onto your tiptoes and kissed his nose.

“You really do think of everything, don’t you?”

“What can I say? I’m a planner” he retorted.

You didn’t know it yet but Steve was going to ask you to become official while you were there. He wasn’t worried in the slightest. In fact he’d never been so sure about something in his life.

[ayoitsnic]

Platonic! Sam x Reader x Dean

Word Count: 2.5k

Trigger Warnings: None? Violence that's pretty typical for Supernatural

Summary: Sam and Dean found out they have a sister. They're very skeptical at first but upon meeting they find out that despite 2 totally different upbringings they have more in common than they expected.

*Disclaimer* I wouldn't normally describe y/n in fics but in this one I did so purposefully to show the similarities between the siblings. I've been told some people are a bit touchy on that.

Oh also this is the first fanfic I've ever written so I'd be happy with constructive criticism.

'This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son Dean 866-907-3235. He can help.'

'Shit' Y/N thought to herself as she was put through to her dad's voicemail. 'Wait....it said call his son....does that mean...? Wait do I have a brother he never told me about!?' Grabbing a pen and a pad of sticky notes she called again, this time hoping for voicemail so she could write that number down.

'This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son Dean 866-907-3235. He can help.'

She got his voicemail again, quickly scribbling down the number before hanging up and dialing it.

~

Sam and Dean were just finishing up a ghoul case in Indiana when Dean's phone began ringing in the glove compartment of the Impala. Reaching over from the driver's side Dean quickly found his phone, glancing at the caller ID "Unknown Number?" He questioned out loud. He assumed it was a scam caller, but answered it anyway just in case "Hello?"

"Is this Dean?" A female voice asked, sounding mostly nervous, but also just a teensy bit excited.

"Who's this?" Dean questioned skeptically, causing Sam to look over curiously from the passengers side

"I'm Y/N. I umm....this is gonna sound crazy but I'm your sister." She felt weird saying that. Until 5 minutes ago she was an only child. "I tried calling dad but it went straight to voicemail and said to call you if it was an emergency...I kind of need help.."

Shocked with the idea of possibly having a sister Dean pulled the car over to a screeching halt, putting the hazard lights on. He needed a minute to take that in. He put the phone on speaker so Sam could hear what was being said "No that's impossible. Dad already had one kid we didn't know about. No way he had a second." Dean said, obviously in denial.

"He what?" Y/N asked, a grin spreading across her face. Regardless of the circumstances that prompted this call, she was elated to find out she had more than one sibling

Realizing what he had just said, Dean shook his head "Nevermind. Where are you?" He asked as Sam began to flip through John's journal, looking for any hint that there might've been another Winchester out there. It didn't take long for him to find the missing pages not even halfway through the book. It would seem she was born long before Adam.

"I'm in the Poconos, in Pennsylvania." Y/N responded

"Okay well we're about 10 hours from there. We'll be there in the morning." Dean told her "Text me the address." The phone call ended and Y/N texted him the address. They weren't sure what the emergency was that she had to call their dad for but regardless of whether or not it was their kind of thing, Sam and Dean were definitely gonna haul ass to go meet this mystery woman.

~

The next day Sam and Dean found themselves in Northeast Pennsylvania before noon hit. When they finally reached their destination they realized that this woman had grown up so differently from them. She lived in one of those fancy gated communities. Well THEY considered it fancy. Y/N was used to it, but then again the bar wasn’t too high with the childhood Sam and Dean had. The houses were big, the yards green, you needed a pass from security to get in, the only thing missing were picket fences.

"Are we sure we aren't walking into a trap?" Sam asked Dean as they stood on the big white porch, ringing the doorbell. "Well if we are, we're certainly prepared." Dean had grabbed holy water and had his gun tucked into the back of his jeans. Sam, a little silver and the Demon killing knife. It wouldn't protect from /everything/ but it'd save them from most of their most common threats.

When Y/N opened the door you could definitely see the family resemblance between her and Sam. She was tall for a woman, standing around 5'10, had light brown, shoulder length hair. Her eyes though, those were a beautiful shade of green like Dean's. It was almost like looking in a mirror for the boys "Hey." She greeted, letting them in

"Which one of you did I speak to on the phone?" She questioned

"That would be me." Dean replied, raising his hand a bit "This is my brother Sam." Sam was still trying to get over the fact that it looked someone took him and hit copy/paste.

"Wow. Dad really got around didn't he?" She commented without thinking. "4 kids, good for him." Just like Adam whom Dean had very briefly mentioned the day before, John Winchester while still her father, wasn't in the picture that often. Sure he seemed like a cool guy the few times a year he would visit but they never really had a proper Father/Daughter connection. She did care about him, but at the end of the end of the day he was just a person she knew she could trust, hence she didn't think twice about making comments like that until she noticed the look on her brothers' faces when she said it. "Sorry, I want thinking when I said that." She quickly apologized, wanting to move on.

Upon entering, the whole house smelled like Palo Santo wood. She found the scent very calming. "Anyways it's a hell of a drive from Indiana. You hungry? I made pie." She offered.

Dean's face lit up at that "What kind?" He asked with a small grin

"Blueberry. It's my mom's recipe." Y/N replied as she motioned for them to sit at the kitchen table. While she took out a knife to serve the pie, Sam had swapped out her utensils for ones they knew were silver.

"So what was so important you felt the need to call us up here?" Sam asked. Y/N could already tell she liked Sam. He gave off good vibes.

Y/N stayed silent for a moment before telling them "My cousin was found dead the other night. He had his throat ripped out. Cops say it was a Mountain Lion but it sounded like something that might interest Dad. Where is he by the way? I tried calling him a few more times and it just kept going straight to voicemail. Doesn't even ring."

Sam and Dean both looked a bit sad as they had to break the news that their father had passed away and had been dead for quite some time now. Upon hearing that, Y/N didn't really react. She wasn't sure how to. Of course she should've felt something because it was her father, but at the same time, as mentioned previously, he wasn't around a lot. He was absent for most of her life just like he was for Sam and Dean's. Sure he was there for the big stuff like birthdays, her high school graduation, or prom night where he let her drive up in the impala, but it was the small stuff she wanted him there for.

"So you know about the whole 'fighting monsters' thing then?" Dean asked as he splashed a small amount of holy water on her leg under the table. Sam kicked him under the table for even mentioning it. What was he thinking!? She didn't even notice the holy water but the question caused Y/N to look at him weird.

"What the hell are you talking about? Mom always said he was a fed." This almost forced Sam to hold in a chuckle.

~

Despite looks from Sam telling him it was a bad idea to tell her what they really do and that it was probably a vampire that killed her cousin, Dean told her anyway. They already made the mistake of not being totally upfront with Adam. Dean wasn’t making that mistake again "Yeah, okay." She chuckled dryly "You fight monsters. Sure you do." Like any sane person, she thought they were bullshitting. "Next you're gonna tell me you've found bigfoot out something." She said sarcastically

"Actually Bigfoot's one of the few things that isn't real." Dean told her with a smirk

"Tell ya what, you fight monsters?" She motioned towards her two brothers "Prove it. Show me these monsters. Let's go find the 'Vampire' " she said with finger quotations "that killed my cousin."

"Oh no no no." Sam finally spoke up "I was against telling you about what we do to begin with, but I'm drawing the line at having you go out on a hunt. You could really hurt. Or worse, killed."

"What is this, some bullshit male chivalry thing? Do you think women can't do the job?" She questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"No, no that has nothing to do with it." Sam quickly back tracked "It's just that you only found out today that monsters are real, you've never hunted before, and we don't want you getting hurt."

Y/N got quiet for a moment, contemplating how she wanted to respond to that. When she finally spoke, she leaned across the kitchen table and told the boys very calmly, like eerily calmly "He was my family. I'm going and we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice." It was loud and clear, in no uncertain terms that she would do anything for her family. That included killing vampires.

The group went silent again. Sam and Dean exchanged a few glances before Dean relented "Alright fine, but you follow our lead."

"Deal." Y/N nodded

~

It didn't take long to locate the vamp nest. Only a day or two. In that time Sam had given Y/N a full rundown of everything she'd need to know about Vampires. How they're nocturnal but that doesn't mean they can't wake up during the day, how the whole 'stake through the heart' thing doesn't actually work and you gotta cut the heads off, and how they normally live in groups.

Thankfully it was a small nest, only about 6 or 7 of them. When the 3 of them pulled up to the old, long abandoned Birchwood Resort, Dean popped the trunk revealing their weapons cache. Y/N looked surprised to see all that stuff, peeking over Dean's shoulder to get a better look. "I've never seen so many weapons in one place. That's awesome." She grinned as Dean handed her a machete. Sam looked at Dean, thinking to himself how similar she sounded to him.

"Alright, Sam and I are gonna go in. Stay out here and if you see any of them try to run out just chop the head off." Dean told her

"You're crazy if you expect me to stay out here and miss all the action." Y/N told Dean as she leaned against the side of her dad's car. She didn't care how long the old man had been dead. To her, that would always be his car. NOT Dean's. With a sigh, she looked up to the night sky and ran her fingers through her hair "Alright fine, whatever. You're the master. I'm just the padawan." She shrugged, kind of annoyed but not in the mood to argue. Sam chuckled at the Star Wars reference.

"This place is huge though." Y/N added "It's really easy to get lost in. You might be better off with someone who grew up here and is familiar with the area. I wonder where you could find someone like that." She hinted, as her and her friends would explore this place as teenagers. "I think we'll be okay." Sam declined. They really were set on having her outside. Thinking about it, she could definitely understand the decision. They'd probably see her as a liability.

Once Sam and Dean had found the nest, the massacre began. After killing half the nest Dean found himself pinned under a vamp, his weapon thrown across the room where he could reach it. "Sammy!!!!!" He called out but Sam was busy with 2 vampires of his own.

Outside Y/N had grown bored of waiting for the boys to return. How long did it take to kill a few 'Vampires'? 'Fuck it' she thought to herself 'I'm going in.' And that's exactly what she did. Looking around the place for her brothers she ran into 1 vampire. Too Easy. She cut the head off as it made a move to go after her. Looking at the decapitated head on the ground made her nauseated but she pushed on.

Before long she heard a commotion From inside one of the private cabins. Peeking through a window she saw the bad position they were in. Scared, and sick to her stomach she ran into the cabin. Swinging the machete in her hand she killed the vampire that had Dean pinned. It was a clean cut and came centimeters from Dean's throat.

He got up, grabbing his own machete to help out Sam. After the vamps were dead Y/N averted her gaze, trying to avoid looking at more dead bodies as she caught her breath.

"I thought we told you to wait outside!" Dean told her to which she instantly responded with "And I thought Sam said you guys would be okay on your own but I just had to come and save you. You should be thanking me."

With a sigh Dean nodded "Are you okay?" He asked, just making sure. "I'm fine. I'm covered in blood and I just killed 2 Vampires, but I'm fine." Despite the nausea, she grinned. The whole hunting thing wasn't supposed to be fun, but this was the most excitement she had in a long time. "Alright, I don't know about you guys but I would kill for a shower right now. If you want after that I know a great bar off main street. I could use a stiff drink."

~

Sam and Dean left 2 days later, having found a case in Virginia. "We are gonna keep in touch, right?" Y/N asked as Sam and Dean put their duffel bags in the Impala

"Of course we are." Dean agreed while Sam added his contact info to her phone. She of course already had Dean's info saved. "You sure you don't wanna come with us?" He asked which caused Y/N to shake her head lightly "As much as I would love to, I have responsibilities up here. Work, family, what's left of a mortgage to pay off...Maybe one day though." She offered a soft smile.

After hugging both boys and telling Dean to drive safe, they took off for Virginia. "Dude," Sam looked over at Dean "I know we were skeptical at first but can we agree she's definitely related to us?" 

Dean looked at Sam weird “I don’t see it.”

“You’re kidding right?” Sam asked “Aside from the fact that she’s like a walking replica of me, she makes really good pie; you love pie. You saw how defensive she got when I told her it’d be safer to sty at home while we took care of the vamps. It’s clear she’d do anything for her family. Sound like someone you know? and while we’re on the subject let’s talk about the fact that she’s not a  terrible hunter. She’s far from a natural and a little weak stomached, but for someone who’s probably never killed a thing in their life she wasn’t bad.” Sam listed all the different ways she was just like Dean.

“What was the first thing she said when she saw the arsenal he keep in the trunk?” Sam asked his brother who responded with “I dunno. What’d she say?”

“She said ‘That’s awesome. She sounded just like you.” Sam insisted

Dean sat silent for a moment, focusing on the road ahead of them before relenting “Yeah okay when you put it like that she’s definitely related.” He agreed

[ptersparkers]

boston

summary: as a recurring visitor from boston to the outer banks and one of kiara’s childhood friends, you get to know the pogue gang for the summer. oh, and it seems like jj has a thing for you.

warnings: mentions of alcohol and typos, probably.

a/n: i hope boston doesn’t throw people off because i used it as nickname (i think it’s cute). and im not even from boston. ALSO WTF THIS IS 4K WORDS.

add yourself to my taglist!

this is my gif, please credit if using!

You’re starting to think that coming to North Carolina for the summer wasn’t as fun as you remembered. 

The water touched your fingertips as you leaned away from the boat, sticking your hand out to dip it into the cold water. It was too humid for you, for starters. You were used to the colder weather of Boston and often found yourself in long sleeves and jeans with boots with an extra sweater in your car. When it got warm, a pair of leggings and a t-shirt sufficed. North Carolina’s outer banks required swimming suits, shorts, and see-through shirts in order to avoid overheating. That wasn’t exactly your style. 

Your parents insisted on having you do something with your summer instead of lounging around and hanging out with people you’d see on a daily basis during the school year. There wasn’t much to do here other than drink and help your relatives on the boat with their fishing company, and the idea of working for free didn’t seem so amazing as it did when you were a child. This was the first summer you’d be spending in the outer banks for the entirety. While you and your parents travelled here for a few weeks, you were the only one staying behind until it was time to go back for school.

In all honesty, you hadn’t recalled much about the place nor the people who lived here. You were aware of the “Kooks” and “Pogues,” and the unofficial war raging between the two groups. What you gathered was that your family lived civilly between the two, not quite in either territory. If you weren’t mistaken, you were welcomed on either side of the island without drawing too much attention to yourself. 

Kiara, or Kie, who was your childhood best friend, was the only person you were even remotely close to, and that was overstating it. She resembled the summer camp friend who you barely spoke to until it was time to go away for summer camp. She lived in Figure Eight but hung with the Pogue crowd, from what you understood. 

You recalled meeting her for the first time at age eleven, the first time your family had made it a tradition to travel to North Carolina. Your family had wandered to The Wreck, the restaurant her family owned, and became friends because you were the only child in the building and her father had forced her to escape from her shell of a bedroom and spend some time outside. Eleven-year-old you was ecstatic to find another person to spend your summers with, and thus a friendship was born.

“Y/N, you okay there?” your uncle had asked. Pulling yourself out of your daydreams, you whipped your head back and wiped your hand on your shorts. 

“I’m fine, Uncle Jim. Just thinking, is all,” you replied. Uncle Jim laughed and pulled the rope from out of the water and asked you to open the ice bin for him to put the fresh fish he had caught. 

“Special order for the Camerons,” he explained. “Ward offered to pay me double if we could have this in by this afternoon.” 

“So that’s why you pulled me out of bed so early,” you teased. “Mom and dad just left and you’re already putting me to work.” 

You closed the ice chest and watched as Uncle Jim put away the cage neatly in the back before wiping his hands on a white cloth towel. 

“You know this job like the back of your hand. Might as well put you to good use.” 

“Yeah,” you said, sighing. “It’s weird being here without them.” 

“Good weird or bad weird?” 

You shrugged. “It’s just different.” 

“I know you wanted to spend your summer in Boston, but your Aunt Camille and I are happy you’re staying until September.” You smiled and gave him a side hug. 

“Yeah, I’m happy to see you two. It’s just that I’m growing up and want to spend time with my friends before we all leave to college, you know?” Uncle Jim started to steer the boat top the main land and nodded. 

“I hear ya. Mind dropping the fish off at the Cameron residence after I clean it up?” 

You shook your head and watched as the island grew bigger as the boat approached the dock. When Uncle Jim docked the boat, you jumped out and told him you’d be getting a bite at The Wreck, hoping to see if Kiara happened to be working. The door chimed and you could see a few people seated at tables with she was preparing smoothies behind the juice bar. 

“You always look like you’re thinking so deeply,” you said, taking a seat at the bar. 

Kiara looked up and dropped the banana she was holding and wiped her hand on a towel, the biggest smile painting her lips as she ran behind the bar to embrace you. You laughed and reciprocated, giving her a gentle squeeze as she held you in a near lockdown. 

“Two years, Y/N. It’s been two very long years,” she said. 

“I wish I could’ve stayed longer last summer,” you said. “My grandpa called us to say my grandma had broken her hip and we flew out the next morning.”

“Is she okay?” she asked. 

You nodded. “I think he was just scared but it was probably for the best that we went back home.”

“So I hear you’ll be here for the whole summer, right? I heard our dads talking last night.” 

“I can’t tell whether I’m excited about that or not. Happy to be here with you but not happy about working on a fishing boat. You know how sensitive my stomach is.” Kiara laughed and walked back behind the bar, resuming making the smoothie she had halted to welcome you. 

“Don’t I know it. Well, when you and I aren’t working we can hang out and I can introduce you to my friends,” she said. “I think you’d really like them.”

“God, I hope so. I’m gonna need friends if I’m going to be here for three months.” 

“John B’s kind of like our ring leader,” she explained before turning the blender on. She poured the drink and continued. “He’s kind of like you. A little mischievous but he’s keen for leadership. Pope’s the smart aleck. He knows everything about anything and overthinks when we do something spontaneous.” Kiara gave you a look. 

“That’s because my parents were always here!” you said in mock defense, raising your hands. 

Kiara laughed. “Then there’s Sarah, who you met before. She’s cool though, not like her Kook friends. We weren’t friends before you left. Then there’s JJ. He’s kind of all over the place and there’s not really a way I can describe him. You just have to experience him for yourself.” 

“As long as I have a fun summer without getting in trouble, I think I’ll be fine,” you said. 

“Smoothie?” Kiara asked. You nodded and took out your wallet, but she shook her head. 

“I’m pretty sure my dad would bite my head off if you paid for anything here,” she said. “Your mom did help advertise for us.” 

“How about a tip,” you said, putting a five dollar bill into a glass jar. Kiara rolled her eyes but grinned. 

“The Pogues and I are gonna hang out on Pope’s boat, if you wanna come. We’re just gonna hang out and eat, probably.”

“I’ll have to ask my uncle but I’m sure he’ll be fine with it,” you said, taking a sip of your smoothie. 

“It really was nice getting to see you again,” Kiara said. “I think you’re probably my only other girl friend, aside from Sarah. God knows a girl needs her time away from testosterone.” 

“I’m gonna be at Sarah’s later this afternoon to drop off some fish. I think her dad paid a lot of money for it, and I will never understand that.” 

She laughed. “Well with that kind of money, I guess you wouldn’t need to think twice about paying for fish.” 

You hopped off of the seat and waved goodbye before heading home. 

***

When the sky turned into a shade of deep orange, you double checked to see that your phone was fully charged before slipping on your shoes and grabbing a blanket plus the bag of snacks you had purchased earlier that day. You waved at Uncle Jim and Aunt Camille, promising them you’d be safe with Kiara before you locked the front door and slipped the keys into your bag. 

From your recollection, Pope’s boat was fairly large and Kiara told you it would have lights strung up so it wouldn’t be too hard to miss. The dock was quiet with the exception of fireflies buzzing in the air and the faint sound of laughter in the distance. 

You could see a group of boys and Kiara lounging around with beer in their hands and you were unsure of how to approach them. Luckily, Kiara saw you in the corner of her eye and rushed down to greet you. 

“Thank God you’re here,” she said. “Boys are annoying and I need some company. Here, let me get your bag.” 

You handed her the bag and climbed onto the boat, aware of three pairs of eyes following you. Suddenly feeling a little self conscious about yourself, you waved awkwardly at the three boys. 

“Don’t be weird, you guys,” Kiara said, rolling her eyes. “That’s Pope. Brains of our operation. You two are more alike, I think.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, tipping his hat at you.

“That’s John B,” she said as you waved at him. “He’s kinda of like you when you start talking about something you’re passionate about.” You began to blush at how Kiara was introducing you to her friends. 

“Any friend of Kiaras is a friend to us,” he said, grinning. 

“And that’s JJ,” she said, pointing at the blonde who was too busy looking at you to speak. “He’s, well, JJ.”

He scoffed. “These two get great introductions and I get ‘that’s JJ’?” he asked, using his fingers as faux quotation marks. Kiara shrugged. 

“I happen to think I’m great, thank you very much,” he said sarcastically before winking at you. You gave him a soft grin and sat next to her, unfolding the blanket and placing yourself on it. 

“And this is Y/N Y/L/N, probably the smartest one out of the five of us. She’s from Boston and comes here every summer with her parents.” 

“It’s usually for a week or two to visit my aunt and uncle but this time I’m spending the entire summer here,” you explained. 

“Why’s that?” asked Pope. 

“My parents thought it would be good to not spend my time indoors and God knows my uncle will put me to work.”

“She’s Jim’s niece,” Kiara said. 

John B’s eyes lit up. “Jim’s niece! That’s right, I remember he said you were coming to work for him this summer. He’s such a legend. How he and Camille live between us and the Kooks is beyond me. Love that guy.”

You beamed, opening a bag of popcorn. “He’s pretty great, isn’t he?”

“So how’d you and Kiara meet?” JJ asked. 

“We were the only kids in The Wreck when it first opened,” she said. “Dad forced me to go outside and Y/N’s parents forced her to do the same and we just clicked.” 

“So what’s Boston like?” John B asked. 

“Jesus, one question at a time,” Kiara said, rolling her eyes. 

“Cold, for the most part. I live on the edge of the city so I’m between suburban area and the metropolitan. It’s kind of the best of both worlds.”

“Outer banks is a wake up call,” Pope joked. 

“It’s really different than what I’m used to, but this is my sixth summer out here,” you said. “And this time I came prepared with the right clothes.” 

Kiara bursted out laughing. “When we were twelve, she insisted on bringing sweaters and jeans because that’s all she owned. For two weeks straight she had to borrow my clothes.” The boys chuckled. 

“I’m not all that used to wearing shorts,” you said, gesturing to your clothes. “But I guess I like to lounge around in oversized shirts, so it’s a win-win.”

“Beer?” JJ asked, holding a bottle. You shook your head. 

“Nah, I’m good. But thank you for offering.” He quirked his eyebrow but put it back in the cooler. 

“Damn, I’ve never been off of this damn island,” said John B. “Let alone a big city.”

“It’s great, honestly,” you began, “I feel like I’m unimportant and that leaves me with so much room to grow. Nobody has any real expectations from me because I’m just another stranger. And I’m starting to sound like a cliche.” 

JJ chuckled and shook his head. “Not a cliche. It’s nice to get to know someone who’s not from here.”

“God knows the Kooks aren’t welcoming,” said Pope. “But never mind them.”

“Sarah’s not coming,” Kiara said, looking up from her phone. “Said she’s too tired to make the ‘treacherous’ walk.” 

“Bummer,” you said, pouting. “I haven’t seen her in so long. She wasn’t at the house when I went earlier.” 

“I’m sure you’ll see her soon,” said Kiara. 

“Oh goodness,” you said, shivering. “I didn’t think it would be cold tonight.” You rubbed your upper arms with your palms and tried to move to feel some friction. 

“Take my jacket,” JJ said, reaching behind him to grab his discarded windbreaker. 

“Thanks,” you said softly, a little confused that a stranger would let you wear his jacket. 

“Damn, JJ. You’ve got broad shoulders,” John B joked, looking at how big the jacket was compared to you. 

“It’s two sizes bigger than I am,” JJ said said, taking a swig of his beer. 

“It’s perfect,” you said, looking between JJ and John B. “Thanks, JJ.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said. You looked away to speak to Kiara and didn’t notice JJ checking you out with the jacket you had put on.

“So you think Y/N’s attractive,” Pope said, leaning in and whispering. 

“Pfft, what?” JJ asked, shaking his head. 

“C’mon, dude. It’s just a matter of time before you and her, you know,” he said, making a crude gesture before laughing. JJ shoved him and laughed along. 

“It’s not like that,” he said. Pope raised his eyebrow. 

“Oh?” 

“It’s not like that either! Jeez, Pope.” 

“Whatever you say, man,” said Pope, leaning back and opening another bottle of beer. 

An hour had flown by and you yawned, the entire group silently understanding that it was probably too late to stay up. Pope had left ten minutes earlier after his dad had called and promised to see the rest of you tomorrow. 

“This was fun,” you said to Kiara, John B, and JJ. “I really like you guys.” 

“But I’m the best,” said Kiara, striking a pose that made you laugh.

“And no one’s taking that title away from you,” you replied. You folded the blanket and began to walk off of the boat with JJ offering his hand for you to step down. You took it and noticed how unusually soft they were. You started to walk back to your house before abruptly turning around. 

“Oh, JJ! Wait, let me give you your jacket back,” you said, dropping the bag you were carrying. JJ laughed and shook his head. 

“Keep it for tonight, Boston. It’ll give me a reason to see you tomorrow,” JJ said. You grinned at the nickname. 

“Okay,” you said, picking up the bag you dropped. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” JJ smiled. You could grow to like seeing his smile. 

He winked. “See you tomorrow, Boston.” 

***

As the weeks went by, you starting to feel disappointed whenever you thought about going back to Boston, which meant leaving your new friends behind. All the adventures you had raked up were memorable ones and it would feel weird not seeing the four rambunctious teens nearly every day. 

It was a hot Thursday morning when you sat on the dock. Uncle Jim had given you the rest of the day off after helping him load his cargo, offering to make the rounds that afternoon if you were willing to go to the grocery store to pick up ingredients for that night’s dinner. 

You couldn’t help but think about JJ and all the times you two had been near one another. Kiara had made an innocuous comment the prior night before you left her house about how he was much gentler when he was around you and didn’t seem to be as loud as he was when you were there. JJ, she said, was always so outspoken but whenever you were near, it was like he was censoring himself. 

You were sure Kiara didn’t mean anything bad by it, but you weren’t really sure how to interpret what she said. You and JJ, aside from Kiara, had hung out the most since you met. You two spent the afternoon together at The Wreck the day after you met him, partially to give him his jacket back and partially waiting for Kiara’s shift to be over. You could feel yourself letting loose and confessed to feeling extremely nervous and self-conscious about meeting Kiara’s friends. JJ reassured you that he (and the others in the gang, of course) really liked you. 

He would accompany you home and save you a seat next to him. He’d hold your bag and wait for you if the gang was running ahead. JJ would volunteer to come get you if you weren’t answering your phone and he’d make trips to visit you while you were helping Uncle Jim at work. 

If you were being honest, you would be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t developed feelings for him. It was minor and fleeting, but it was there. The blonde made you blush without having to try too hard and you were sure Kiara knew, but she never said anything. JJ was attentive to you and let you speak when you felt your voice be drowned by someone else. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard running footsteps on the dock, only to turn around and see JJ running towards you. He peeled his shirt off and jumped past you and landed in the water, splashing you in the process. 

“JJ, what the hell!” you yelled as he came up for air. He shook his head and wiped his face, grinning at your surprised reaction. 

“What a morning, huh?” he said, swimming closer to you. Your legs dangled in the water and he came up, pushing his body upwards to let his arms rest on your lap. “You thinking too hard again, Boston?”

Boston. There was that nickname again. You think you hid your blush pretty well.

“You know I’m always thinking,” you replied. 

“Someday I’m gonna get inside your head and know everything you think about when you disappear,” he said. “I’m sure you have a lot of good stories to tell.”

“Maybe so,” you teased. “I was just thinking about how I have a month and a half left before going back home.” 

“Don’t think about that,” he said, pouting slightly. “I’ll - we’ll - miss you tons. It won’t be the same until you come back.” 

You laughed. “I wish I could bring you guys back with me. I don’t have that many friends I consider close.”

“And you consider us your close friends?”

“I might even say my best friends,” you said with a smile. 

“Well, well, well. I’m honored to hear that, Boston. Truly.” 

“Why’d you jump into the water, anyway?” you asked. 

He shrugged. “It’s a hot morning and the sun is shining. Plus, I got to scare you, which was pretty priceless.” You shoved him back into the water and laughed as he came up with a feigned surprised expression. 

“Oh, come on! It was hilarious.” 

“You’re so mean to me, JJ,” you said, sticking your tongue out. 

“Why don’t you join me? The water’s cool and it’s hot out.” 

“I think I’m good from where I’m sitting,” you said. JJ swam closer and caressed your legs before trailing his fingers to your lap, resting his chin on your knee. 

“Please?” 

It was times like this when you were grateful you developed a habit of putting a swimsuit underneath your clothing. You stood up from your spot and took off your shirt and shorts, slowly dipping in the water beside him.

“Okay, you’re right,” you confessed. “Very refreshing.” 

JJ swam closer to you and smiled, finding your hand and pulling it above the water to give it a kiss. 

“I’m never wrong, Boston.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, keep telling yourself that.” 

JJ was quiet for a moment. “You’re so innocent.”

You raised your eyebrow. “Oh? How so?”

“I don’t know. You have a purity to you. Maybe it’s Boston or maybe it’s just that you’re better than us and the Kooks combined.”

“Well, I’m definitely better than the Kooks,” you said. JJ chuckled. He pulled you closer to him to the point where your chests were almost touching. 

“I just mean that I don’t know how to act when I’m around you. Usually I’m reckless and an idiot, but I’m not that way when you’re around.” 

You frowned. “I don’t ever want you to be anyone but yourself around me, JJ.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think it’s that. I think you pull this calmness out of me. I don’t think I’m not being myself when you’re around. I just think that I’m much more of a person than ‘reckless’ JJ who gets into too much trouble.

“What I’m trying to say is,” he began with a deep breath, “I like you. As in, more than a friend. John B and Pope have been teasing me about it all summer but I never took it seriously until you talked that Kook’s ear off about not being a racist and sexist piece of shit.” You took a moment to recall and laugh at the memory. “There’s never a moment where I don’t want to be with you or tell you things. I’ve never felt this way with anyone before, honestly.” 

“JJ,” you said softly, your hand giving his bicep a squeeze in reassurance. “You know, I’ve been overthinking these past few weeks. Last night, Kie said something about how you were so aware when I’m around and how you’re less reckless and I didn’t know what to make of it.”

“I just,” said JJ, “I like you a lot. More than I thought I did.” 

You looked into his gaze and his arm wrapped itself around your waist, pulling you closer so your chests were touching. The sound of the waves was the only noise in the vicinity and the sun made JJ’s eyes look more impeccable than they already were. His lips were plump and you noticed he had stolen a glance down to yours, squeezing the small of your back as if to ask for silent permission. You inched your way closer and he followed suit until his lips had landed gracefully on yours as if it had belonged there all along. 

His skin was hot under the sun and the water around you felt like it moved to push you two closer together. JJ let this kiss be a simple one, unlike the other girls he had been with before. His eyes remained closed until he pulled away and looked to see you in your entirety. You did nothing but smile and bite your lip, reaching out to kiss him once more. 

“I like you too,” you said. “And I like kissing you.” JJ laughed and leaned in to kiss you a third time. 

“You’re real cute, Boston,” he replied. 

“Do you think we could go and get some sandwiches from The Wreck? All this swimming and all this kissing has me starved.” You shared a laugh before pushing yourselves out of the water and hoped the sun was hot enough dry you both before you reached the restaurant. 

You were already counting down the days you would be coming back to the outer banks. 

[elysianecho]

Steve Rogers is a Klutz™

Summary: Getting shot by mobsters and finding Captain America and Spiderman on a roof in the span of one week is weird. 

Getting shot, meeting two Avengers, getting helped by one of those Avengers, and then meeting the rest of the gang?

"What is my life coming to?”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x cop!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, some blood, reader being stalked, mentions of gunfights, people falling off ladders. I think that’s everything? Let me know if I’ve missed something!

Word Count: 6593

A/N: This is might make it on time. This is a smidge late. I’m SOOOOO sorry, Anika! Please forgive me. Life is dumb. 

Anyway! This is for @anika-ann​’s 500 Celebration! You rock, girl! My prompt was: 

“Say something so we know you’re okay!” “Ow.” 

It will be bolded in the story.

This is a hot mess but: Enjoy!! :D

~~~~~

Why was he here again?

“Okay, so, there’s been these guys that have, like, lasers and bombs and stuff—”

Oh, yeah. 

Steve watched as Peter explained what the latest baddies had been up to in Queens. Judging by the amount of arm waving Peter was doing, he was explaining through interpretive dance. He was in fact, listening to Peter, but he was also keeping an eye on their surroundings. According to Peter, the baddies were supposed to hit a bank near here tonight. 

“Listen, kid, ya gotta analyze what’s going on around you before you start to jump in. Otherwise you’re gonna miss—” 

“Like that door opening?” Peter said, pointing. Steve raised his shield and looked to the roof access door to see a woman step through it backward. She turned and stopped when she saw them. In all honesty, it wasn’t hard to miss Captain America and Spiderman on an empty rooftop.

She blinked at them. She held two brown glass bottles in one hand, a book and bag of chips  in her arms, and her phone was lighting her shocked face. 

Steve lost most of the ‘choose-your-fighter’ stance, lowered his shield, and extended a hand to show they meant no harm. Peter was muttering under his breath and looking from the woman to Steve. 

“I didn���t see anything. I didn’t hear anything. And I don’t smell anything either,” she said, removing an earbud, “Imma sit right over there and enjoy the sunset.” She moved to a corner and set her things down. Steve noticed a wince as she stood straight and pulled a folding lawn chair from a crevice and set it up. 

“What do you mean you don’t smell anything?” Steve asked, finally finding his voice in this weird situation. 

She sat down slowly, wincing, twisted the cap off a bottle and took a swig before she grinned at him. He expected alcohol, but the scent of sassafras hit his nose instead.

“Here’s a tip, Spidey,” she said, looking at Peter, “a little cologne goes a long way.” She popped a chip in her mouth and swung one foot at a time on the chair to get comfortable. 

Steve looked to Peter who was...smelling his armpit? He hadn’t even realized he was wearing an overabundance of cologne; the kid spent so much time at the Compound anymore it was just—. Steve sighed. It was normal. Great. A supersoldier got so used to someone wearing so much fragrance he became nose-blind to it. But a civilian? Who just happened upon them one night? No problem. 

“Also, friendly tip: if you’re gonna keep your ‘secret identity’,” she said with a wide grin and exaggerated air-quotations,  “a continuing secret, wear a different cologne when you’re in the suit.” Steve grabbed Peter by the shoulder and pushed him toward the far side of the roof. 

“If you’ll excuse us, ma’am,” Steve said, nodding to her. She gave a two-fingered salute and an ‘aye-aye, Cap’n’ as the two moved their position. 

~~~~~

It was three days later when Steve was trying to take a walk through the town that he got an odd feeling he was being followed. He and Peter had taken care of the guys they were after: low-level crooks with high-level weapons. A very bad mixture in Steve’s mind.  

But now, he didn’t sense danger necessarily, he didn’t hear anything menacing, and it wasn’t like it was a flock of teenagers following him again. That he could hear a mile away over rush hour traffic. Plus, the beard and longer hair helped him blend a bit more.

He kept his stride and turned down an alley to take a couple shortcuts to see if his tag-a-long could keep up. Two minutes later, down this alley, back onto the main street, and down another alley, the feeling was still there. Turning once more, he backed up against the wall and waited. Once his follower got close enough to the corner, he snatched them, forcing them against the wall. 

This was something he didn’t expect. 

A gasp, the sound of boxes falling, paper crumpling, and a wry smile followed by: 

"Well, hello to you, too, handsome."

Her again.

"Why are you following me?" he said, moving his hands over her sides and down her thighs. Call him paranoid, but two years on the run will do that to you. 

"Gun and permit are on the waistband," she said, her hands halfheartedly raised. She spread her legs, just to see how far Captain America would go to pat down a woman carrying her groceries. 

Which he finally took notice of when he had to move a bag of green beans to lift her pant leg.  She bit back a groan when he brought his hands up to her sides again and around to her back. 

She had to admit, of all the pat downs she's had in her career, this had to be her favorite: Exceptionally attractive man? Check. Very smooth, deep voice? Check.  Warm, rough hands that weren't too rough while gliding down her thighs? Check and check.

Ever since the pardon, Steve Rogers remained a sort of enigma. He still went on missions, which she witnessed just the other night, but he had pulled so far back from the PR world that people were trying to figure out if Captain America was the same person.

Steve ran his hands along her back and found the gun on her waistband and— 

"You're a cop," he said, exasperated, holding up her badge. She let her hands fall, smirk still on her face. "Why are you following me?" 

"Well, I was out getting groceries, which you probably smashed the eggs, by the way, thanks for that—" she said, taking her offered badge back. 

"Why is an off-duty cop getting groceries following me in broad daylight?" Steve asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Because I really just wanted to stare at your ass—I'm being followed, you doofus,"she hissed at him. 

"What?" Steve was instantly on high alert, listening more closely to passersby on the main street and all around. He chanced a peek around the corner to see if anyone had followed her. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. "Why didn't you just call for back up?"

"Long story," she said looking around as well. She pulled back when she saw people round the corner, only to be caged in by tree-trunk arms from an annoyed Avenger. 

"I've got time."

"I don't," she said, staring at him incredulously. 

Steve Rogers was one cocky little shit. He had the nerve to lean on his forearms, prop one elbow on the wall to rest his head in his hand, and cross his legs at the ankle. His face and body just inches from her own. God, he smelled amazing.

Late June was hot. Late June plus very close proximity to a very stubborn, very attractive supersoldier? She may as well be on the surface of the sun. She took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled slowly to calm her heart rate. 

"Come out, come out, Queenie. We know you're there." 

The sing-song voice came just around the corner from where she and Steve were standing. 

Her heart rate didn't stand a chance of slowing down. 

Steve's brow furrowed, and he regained some of his earlier tension. He watched her eyes widen and flit back and forth. It almost looked like a plea for help, but her gaze hardened; she was planning something. Probably something stupid. 

He pulled his phone out and set up the camera. Taking a picture— albeit blurry, sue him—he held it up for her to see. There were ten men looking around every corner, behind every doorway. 

She ran a hand down her face. There had only been four when she last saw them. They were getting smarter. 

She opened her eyes when the temperature dropped. Steve had moved back and was looking around the alley, formulating his escape plan. She reached for her gun, but his hand caught her arm and he shook his head, putting a finger to his lips as the men called out for her once more. They were getting closer. 

He pulled her further down the alley, groceries forgotten, both of them trying to be as quiet as possible. He stopped when he reached the fire escape and cupped his hands, eyebrows raised asking: you ready?

Oh Lord, she had to put her hands on him?

If she wasn't looking at him, she never would've heard his whispered, "Hey!" She shook her head and put her foot in his hands and one hand on his shoulder. 

Is this what it feels like to fly? He lifted her like she was nothing and she barely had to pull herself onto the fire escape. Though the stitches in her side still pulled and she bit her lip to stop the hiss of pain. 

Steve backed up to the opposite wall and took a running jump. His foot barely touched the dumpster, and somehow he managed to not make a sound when he landed on the escape. 

He just smirked and shrugged when he saw her bewildered face. She rolled her eyes. 

The voices were louder now, triumphant: they found her groceries. She silently mourned her ice cream as she and her cohort climbed. 

The rig was old and even though Steve wasn't making a sound, the metal was. He grabbed her elbow five stories up, making her stop. He had his finger to his lips again, then pointed below them. 

"I know you're here somewhere, Queenie, I just wanna talk to ya," one man said, adjusting his cuff links. He was the best dressed of all of them but Steve could see the outline of a gun in his suit jacket. 

"C'mon, ya don't wanna play with me anymore?" he said, as his men were still searching below and further on.

This guy was starting to creep Steve out. He still had no idea what this woman had gotten herself into, but the saccharine tone of his voice made him sick. 

"I'm real sorry, I hurt ya, sweetheart. I promise, I won't do it again," he was finally moving on from the alley along with his posse. 

They stayed still for another moment while he was still in view at the mouth of the alley. He stood looking out at the main street with his hands in his pockets. 

Steve motioned for her to continue. They were one flight away from the roof when Back in Black started blaring from Steve's phone. 

He scrambled to turn it off, but when he pulled it out of his pocket with such panicked force, it slipped. Right out of his hands and down. Clanging on the rail and singing all the way down to shatter on the unforgiving concrete below. 

He heard her move up the last flight, while he just cringed staring down at the broken pieces. Tony was going to kill him.

Great.

 The suit had walked over to investigate. And he looked straight up at Steve. 

Great.

"Hey! Sorry 'bout that! Butterfingers, ya know?" he said, waving, "Can ya do me a favor and just toss it in the nearest can? The wife's gonna kill me if I don't finish dinner." 

The suit just stared at him, disgusted. He reached in his jacket and Steve prayed that his companion had made it to the roof. He brought a pack of cigarettes out and lit one, walking away from the broken pieces. 

"Hey, thanks, pal!" Steve said, turning and taking the last flight two stairs at a time. He hopped over the ledge and found her on her back, hands on her face in annoyance, and a red spot on her side. 

"Are you bleeding?!" he asked, rushing to her and landing on his knees. He scanned the rooftop and the adjacent buildings looking for a sniper. What kind of trouble was she in, anyway?

"Am I?" she moved her hands and sat up. Her breath hitched and she laid back down. "Ah, yup, stitches probably ripped."

"Can I?" he said, gesturing to her shirt. She waved a dismissive hand and he slowly pulled her shirt up. She was right: the stitches under her breast had ripped and what he could safely assume was a bullet wound, was bleeding again. 

"There goes the bra…" she muttered, rubbing her temple, "and it was a cute one too."

Steve shrugged a shoulder as he reached in his back pocket for a handkerchief. He glanced around at the nearby roofs once more before turning back to apply the cloth to the wound. She was staring at him. Smirking.

"Did you just...agree that my bra was cute?" she asked, her smirk turning into a grin, eyes crinkling at the corners.

His gaze dropped to her wound again, brow furrowed, as he put pressure on the wound. A low hiss escaped her, but it was quickly replaced by the same grin. 

"Hmm. The eyebrow quirk and head tilt said you did. Name's Y/N, by the way," she said, getting him to glance at her. His hair was falling in his face and she couldn't help but think it just made him look extra handsome. "Figured you should know mine since I already know yours."

"Thought it was 'Queenie'," he said, a small grin playing on his face. The grin fell when her gaze hardened. 

"He shouldn't know it," she shook her head and ran a hand down her face. Before Steve could question, she waved his hand away from her side. She tucked part of the cloth under her bra and sat up with the help of Steve's large hand on her back. 

Steve moved back to give her some room before he asked, "What do you mean he shouldn't know it?"

"I dressed up one Halloween as a character named 'Queenie' and now that's what my whole precinct calls me. No one else calls me Queenie," she said.

Steve listened as she explained that she had been assigned to this particular precinct. Apparently due to suspicion that one or many of its members had close mob ties. Now she had proof, but no clue who to look for. 

They sat in silence for a moment before Y/N squinted and pointed over Steve's shoulder. 

"Hey, isn't that your buddy Iron Man?" 

Sure enough, it was. Steve turned back to face Y/N and just raised a hand in a lazy wave and sighed like an exasperated teenager about to get scolded.

Y/N grimaced at the loud sound of the Iron Man's repulsors. He dropped down at the edge and walked over, his helmet disappearing to reveal his face. It was a very annoyed face. 

"So you're just gonna ignore me now?" he said, stopping next to Steve and crossing his arms. 

"Tony, this is Y/N. Y/N, Tony," Steve said, gesturing one to the other. 

"Yeah, hi," Tony waved in Y/N's direction, then turned to Steve again, then back to Y/N, "Are you aware—you're bleeding."

The drastic tone change made Y/N blink. He spun his around to her so fast she thought his neck broke. She looked to Steve who had a hand over his face, but she could see his brows knit together as he shook his head. His shoulders shook in a silent chuckle.

"Wow, it is true," Y/N said, looking at Tony, "You really are a genius." 

Between the baffled look on Tony's face and the strangled laugh-turned-cough from Steve, her day was a whole lot better.

"Yes, we're both aware I'm bleeding. Captain Handsome over here was helping me avoid some trouble. This is a few days old, the stitches just ripped," she explained. Tony just quirked an eyebrow and a wide grin spread on his face.

"'Captain Handsome'? Oh that's definitely gonna be a thing, now," Steve's groan of disapproval cut through, but Tony paid him no mind, "Anyway, we need to get you patched up, and you were supposed to help set up-"

"Wanda's birthday, ah, shit!" was muffled as he ran both hands over his face and back into his hair. Y/N blinked.

"Captain America swears?" she said, looking at Tony who just shook his head in blatant disappointment. 

"Like a sailor. Romanoff's bringing the car around, so grab our invalid and bring her to the Compound. Romanoff, can you bring the car around?" Tony said, walking to the edge of the roof. Y/N tried to deny being taken with them, but Tony closed his helmet and blasted off. 

She looked to Steve who stood and held out a hand to help her up. Reluctantly (or not, he had very nice hands) she took it.

"Seriously, just drop me off at my apartment and I'll be fine. You've already helped enough," she said. 

Steve just shook his head and started leading her towards the roof access. "Not happening. I was already thinking about it, anyway.  Dr. Cho should have you patched up in no time."

Y/N groaned. How was she supposed to fight Avengers exactly?

~~~~~

Dr. Helen Cho has very kind eyes. But when she says 'go', even Steve Rogers moves. Y/N was introduced to her and then immediately directed (read forced) onto a table after her shirt and bra were (forcibly) removed and replaced with a hospital gown so fast the embarrassment didn't hit her until after Dr. Cho's machine was stitching her up. 

Or whatever it did. 

Y/N looked at her wound in the bathroom mirror. There was no scar, no trace of the bullet hole or the stitches. Still amazed at the technology, she lowered the borrowed hoodie and made her way back into the lab. Black Widow, or Natasha, was waiting with a small smile.

"I really want to thank you guys for everything, and I don't want to sound ungrateful, because I am! But I should probably be getting home…" 

Her smile tightened and her nose scrunched. "Mm, about that."

Y/N blinked. "Please tell me that doesn't mean what I think it means." 

Her smile twisted up a little more before she grabbed Y/N's hand and began pulling her back to where Y/N thought was the living room. 

This week was just getting weirder and weirder by the second. Natasha pulled her by the hand the whole way and Y/N made no move to let go either; it was oddly comforting, and Y/N didn't even realize she needed it. She briefly wondered what it would be like to hold Steve's hand. 

She immediately grabbed that thought, stuffed it in a box, put that box in another box, duct taped the whole thing, and buried it. 

Crushes on celebrities were fine. If you've met them, cool, good for you. If you've been as close as Y/N had, you should be commended and given 'The World's Luckiest Bitch' medal. 

But she didn't want to get her hopes up. Chances are they'd just be crushed. Probably under a star-spangled shield or something much more terrifying. Nope, she may as well crush those feelings now before they got out of hand. 

Natasha took her down several halls to see a lounge room where several were gathered watching what seemed to be Lord of the Rings. Y/N didn’t recognize any of them, but judging by all the lab coats strewn all over the chairs and various snacks, they were probably just on a break. 

A couple turns and an elevator ride up a few floors, Natasha's hand still holding hers, and down more hallways Natasha finally stopped and opened the door to a conference room.

Y/N was completely lost as to where they were in the building, but she wouldn't really need to know. She'd be going home soon anyway.

"Is that my apartment?!" 

Steve, Tony, and Bucky Barnes turned at the sound of her voice, but her eyes were locked on the screen behind them. 

Most of it was nonsensical gibberish to her, but the main picture was her apartment building. On fire. Specifically her apartment. And the one next to it, too, where she knew the couple next door. They had just had a baby.

"Tell me no one was in there," she whispered, her voice starting to shake, "Tell me no one was home, Steve, they had a baby. You tell me no one was home!"

She had moved around the table, volume rising with every step. Steve put his hands on her shoulders when she grabbed him by the shirt. 

"Mom and baby are fine, they weren't home," he said, voice quiet and calm, "Dad's in the hospital with a few broken bones and scrapes, but he'll be fine, Y/N."

Steve thought he would get lost in her eyes earlier, now it felt like she stared into his soul. She took a shaky breath in and out, closed her eyes, and breathed again. It was when she was finally able to release his shirt that Tony spoke.

"Looks like you didn’t make it out, though," he said, turning the volume up. She turned to him and saw some blonde news reporter stating that one person had been killed in the explosion ("Ex- explosion?" was whispered as Steve helped her to a chair and sat her down.) 

Her own face stared back at her. Her name was on the news. 

Blood rushed in her ears and drowned out whatever was being said, whether on tv or in the room. Mind racing, she tried to figure out what her next step should be: who does she call? Does she call anyone? Can she? Not knowing which of her supposed brothers and sisters she could trust. The proverbial brakes came screeching to halt when she heard—

“Hydra?”

Natasha had joined Bucky in looking at a file on the table and Tony was sitting on its edge; they all turned to look at her. When she stayed silent, Steve moved from behind her chair and leaned his hip against the table. He said her name, snapping her attention back to reality. 

“Did you say Hydra?” she asked. Bucky nodded. “No, no, no. We’re talkin’ Clair Vitali, yeah, he’s no small fry, but he’s not Hydra. That’s crazy! Sure he’s a megalomaniac, but he’s not that smart. He shot me in broad daylight and had the balls to follow me in broad daylight, but then again, he had the balls to follow me in broad daylight and he does have some pull up on high. I wonder if that’s how he got Roca’s territory…” 

Steve thought she was going to burn a hole into the table with how she stared at it. Bucky chuckled and looked at Steve.

“She talked herself into it,” he grinned, “Didn’t even have to show her evidence. But it does look like the explosives they used were from Hydra. Not just with your house, but multiple others.” Y/N looked up as the screen changed to show five other bombings. Ones she didn’t even know were connected to Vitali. “And I remember seeing him around Rumlow a lot.” 

Rumlow.

Something about that name rang a bell. A gruff laugh, dark hair, an easy smile, and honey colored eyes filled her mind. 

"Brock Rumlow?"she asked. They all nodded. She grimaced and muttered, “Glad I didn’t go on that date with him, then. Oh-kay! So. Now what? Hydra is way out of my league. How do we handle this?” 

Bucky’s eyebrows shot almost to his hairline and Steve let out a strangled “Date?!” as Tony just turned back to the screen and started talking to the air. To her surprise the air spoke back. Oh, yeah. He’s Tony Stark. AI’s are a thing here. 

She heard Natasha’s chuckle and chanced a glance at Bucky, his expression was locked on Steve who she did not glance at. She was far too invested on the screen; her eyes locked on a familiar face, she stood slowly. Steve said her name and she blinked. 

“Bottom right,” she said, pointing, “That’s Charlie and, Houser, our captain.” 

Tony brought it up front and center showing the captain standing straight, and her partner behind him, hands clasped and shoulders slumped. He looked truly dejected. Angry. He kept his eyes low while the captain gave his statement on her supposed murder. No, he didn’t say murder. He said death. Death. Like an accident. Like her home spontaneously combusted. Like she wasn’t hunted like a wild animal, beaten, shot, and thrown into the river. The blood in her veins boiled watching him give his speech. 

“This is a day of grieving for us all. This is such a tragic loss for this precinct, for this city. Officer L/N was a treasure; a hardworking—”

“That’s detective, you monumental bastard,” she spat. Tony turned with a raised brow and a smirk. “We don’t really get along.”

“—shows no sign of tampering, but we will dig further to get to the truth of this atrocity—” 

She wondered who gave him this false information and thought about what she was going to do to them. If the police had been in her apartment, they should know whether or not it had been a bomb or some sort of malfunction. 

And then her fire was extinguished. 

He sniffed. 

She watched as Charlie’s brow furrowed and for the first time he looked up at the captain. His hands clenched into fists before he moved them behind his back. The captain continued his speech, sniffing again. 

“That sorry, low-down, pig-headed—” she shoved the chair and stepped away from the table, taking deep breaths, almost panting. 

“Hey, easy,” came from Steve who put a hand on her shoulder, “What’s wrong?” She took another breath and held it for a beat, then two, sure he could feel her pulse racing. Her fists clenching and releasing, she let the breath go, slowly, controlled, before she turned to him. 

“He’s in on it. He’s the connection to Vitali. That sniff?” she pointed back to the screen, “That’s his tell. The man can’t play poker to save his life! And that bullshit story about me being, what’d he say? ‘A treasure?’ Ha!” She shook her head and ran a hand through her hair, trying not to think about how Steve seemed to be subconsciously rubbing his thumb in small circles on her shoulder. Taking another deep breath, she looked up at him once more. 

“And now that I know who the connection is, I have a good idea about who else is on Vitali’s payroll.”

~~~~~

Hello, Queenie. 

You wanna play?

Her eyes snapped open and her heart hammered in her chest. She sat up, gun raised, and looked around the room. This wasn’t her house. This wasn’t her house. 

Breathing became harder for her and her hand started shaking. But when the faint smell of a musky cologne reached her nose, she remembered blue eyes staring into her own. Her next breath was shaky, but she put the gun beside her on the bed. She’ll have to thank Natasha for giving her one of Steve’s shirts. 

Throwing back the covers, she swung her legs off the bed and made sure her legs weren’t wobbly before standing and walking out of the room. Ice cream was much needed. Now. 

Where the hell was the kitchen?

She tried to get a map in her mind, but, instead of directing her to her destination, it throbbed and refused to do any work. Forcing her feet to walk ten steps to her left, she faced her next obstacle. Waking the beast. 

She knocked three times. Silence. Three times more. 

“Fuckin— hang on!” 

Captain America swears like a sailor. She couldn’t stop the grin creeping on her face. Judging by the thudding and even more swearing, he was having some difficulty. Thirty seconds later the door disappeared and she flinched, stepping back.

Steve Rogers sleeps nude. 

In her peripheral, she could just barely see that he was holding a sheet around his waist. She didn’t dare to actually look, but tilted her head to see his face instead.

This was possibly the best decision she’d ever made. 

Steve Rogers with bed head. ‘World’s Luckiest Bitch’ indeed. 

She pursed her lips to keep the giggles from escaping. Sleepy, grumpy Steve was so cute. As she committed it to her long-term memory, he rubbed his face and let out a muted ‘shit’. 

“I thought you were gonna be Bucky,” he said, leaning on the doorframe. “What’s up? You okay?”

Oh, Lord, his voice. Abort mission. Abort. 

“I— uh, was gonna get some ice cream, but um, I’ll— I’ll just let you get back to sleep,” she said. Her cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling too much. Gesturing to his attire, she couldn’t help but giggle, “Obviously you’re waiting for Bucky, so…” 

Confused even more by her laughter, the dolt looked down at himself, let out a louder ‘Fuck!’ and slammed the door shut. Steve continued his stream of obscenities as they both realized his sheet had gotten shut in the door. A short burst of laughter rang in the hall before she clapped both hands over her mouth. 

“Shut the fuck up, Queenie.”

Removing her hands and breathing, she took a moment to actually appreciate him. He now had on dark jeans and an unzipped jacket baring his broad chest to the world. He was really trying to kill her. And she would let him. 

But when he ran a hand through his hair, she was done. 

Giggle-drunk and trying not to be a thirsty hoe, she started towards the kitchen. Until Steve called to her again. When she turned, he was sporting that ridiculous smirk and pointing in the opposite direction. She threw her hands in the air, the shirt raising just enough to draw Steve’s eyes down to her bare legs. 

“Come on, Rogers, why are you keeping me from my ice cream? You owe like two gallons anyway,” she said, grabbing him the jacket and pulling him along. 

They finally made it to their destination after he had to grab her by the shirt and redirect her twice; he damn near strutted to the freezer and began naming off the flavors they had stashed away. 

“Seriously?” she asked, looking at his choice of butter pecan in disgust. 

“I already told you once, Queens, shut the fuck up,” he said, jabbing a finger in her direction. Ignoring the swarm of butterflies and heat rising in her face, she waved a dismissive hand and let loose an ‘aha!’ when she found the bowls. She frowned and stood on her toes because seriously, who puts the bowls on the top shelf? Fine.  

She did what needed to be done. She climbed onto the counter. Just being on her knees gave her the necessary boost to reach her goal. A shiver ran through her when a deep chuckle came from behind her. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Steve asked, leaning against the island. 

“Immensely,” she said, smirking, “Is the counter the only thing holding you up right now?” 

“At the moment, yes.” 

She giggled and handed him two bowls and hopped down, ready to devour the sweet, cold, goodness that was ice cream. 

Somehow this was right. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she felt...safe. Sitting in nothing but a borrowed shirt and her underwear with a barely-dressed supersoldier eating ice cream at God-only-knows-what time in the morning.  

“What is my life coming to?”

Steve looked up at her. They sat at the table, and for a long time were swapping funny stories about their teams. Her mind swirled with the new facts she’d learned just a few hours before, and even though she knew that the people she’d worked with for two years were not all they appeared, it still hurt. 

“Thanks, Steve. For everything.”

As if she needed another reason to swoon over this beast of a man, he looked at her with such sincerity and gave a crooked smile. She swallowed. 

“Anytime.”

Well that just won’t do. 

“Even at 3 o’clock in the morning?”

“Now wait a damn minute—”

~~~~~

With the Avengers on the case, it only took a day to gather enough information on her captain and several others that were in league with Vitali and Hydra. 

Now their plan was going into action. 

Despite her nerves about walking back into this building, she stood strong. Not to mention she had back up this time. 

Clair Vitali owned several hotels in New York. His reach spread much further than other mob families, and one by one, he seemed to swallow them up. She had very little knowledge of the layout of this building, but again, with the Avengers, impossible was simply not in their vocabulary. 

She and Steve were parked across the street in one of Tony’s mustangs. When she told him what hotel he usually frequented, he agreed that using a more high-profile car would be acceptable. 

“You sure about this, Y/N?” Steve asked. His gaze shifted from the hotel doors to her in the passenger seat. 

“A smidge,” she looked at him, “I just want this over with.” 

Steve nodded and looked back to the hotel. Vitali was here. She took a deep breath and got out of the car, but leaned back down to the window. 

“Besides, after being in a car with you driving, this’ll be a cake-walk,” she said, grinning. Steve opened his mouth to defend his driving skills when Bucky’s voice cut through their earpieces. 

“Punk, you wreck every vehicle you go into a fight with. Don’t start.” 

Four other voices agreed with him. Tony was going into his threat about Steve wrecking this car as Y/N started to cross the street. 

Blood pounding in her ears, she threw open the door and walked up to the front desk. The young man politely asked how he could be of service, despite his look of distaste at her attire. She flashed him a smile. 

“Actually, I was hoping to speak with Mr. Vitali,” she said. The look on this poor kid’s face almost made her laugh. He started to sputter and say that her request wouldn’t be possible; he was in a very important meeting and she might be able to schedule something in the future. She hummed and shook her head. 

“Unfortunately, it has to be now. I’m sure he’s missed me the past couple days and I just can’t leave him waiting any longer, sir.”

“Miss, I’m very sorry, but he doesn’t want to be disturbed—”

She sighed. 

“Alright. I didn’t want to play this card, but…” she laid her badge on the counter, pushing it towards the man. Whether or not he knew what his boss was really into, the color drained from his face. 

“You tell him Queenie’s here to play.” 

As he made a frantic phone call, she hopped up on the counter and sat, swinging her legs, making a call of her own. The voice that answered was hesitant. 

“...Y/N?” 

She smiled. 

“Hey, Chuckles. Listen, you’re gonna get a call about the Foundry Hotel in a few minutes. Bring back up. Don’t be surprised.”

“On it.”

She put her phone back in her pocket and waited. It didn’t take three minutes before grunts with guns surrounded the desk. Some actual patrons screamed and started to scatter, fleeing the building. Clair came swooping in and stood, behind his troops, grinning from ear to ear.

“I knew you’d come back to me, Queenie,” he said, “I was really hoping we’d have this little reunion at your funeral, but we can make this work—”

“Cut the bullshit, Clair, where’s Houser? I know he’s here.” She looked around the vast entry hall and into the restaurant where more people were huddled, being contained by more of the brute squad. “It’d be a cryin’ shame to kill me off and not celebrate your victory!” 

“You’re looking pretty good, sugar, you get all healed up?” Clair asked, chuckling. She nodded, still swinging her legs as if it was just another day at the park.

“I did. I found friends in high places. But you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” she asked, jumping down. Some of the men shifted. “Being in league with Hydra and all.” 

Something glinted in his eye. She had him. 

Everything after that happened fast: bullets flew, glass shattered, people screamed.

The next thing she knew her ears were ringing. Everything was too bright, too loud. Too blurry. She couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t breathe. The only thing she saw clearly were piercing blue eyes. A voice cut through the fog. 

Queens! C’mon, just say something! 

~~~~~

 Wanda and Vision were due to be home from their island getaway in just a few minutes and everyone was running rampant around the living room. Streamers were hung from all over. A giant cake was being shielded by Bucky from Clint’s wandering hands. 

And some idiot put Steve Rogers on a ladder to hang the banner. 

“Hey, Queens, can ya tell me if it’s straight?” 

She walked away from the ladder and next to Tony to get a better view. And, boy, did she. Steve’s ass looked great in jeans. She hummed appreciatively. 

“Looks, great, Stevie. Now please get down, my blood pressure’s out the roof,” she said. She turned to Tony. “Don’t you have, like, robots or something to do this?” 

“I do, but this is payback for not helping sooner,” Tony said, sipping a lemonade. She nodded. 

“Really, Tony?” Steve started, “I told you, I dropped my phone! I was not ignoring you!” 

The two started to throw snark between them and Y/N just rolled her eyes. Steve tried to stop on the ladder and turn to look at Tony. He missed about two steps and got his leg caught between rungs. 

To say the look of horror on his face wasn’t funny would be an outright lie. 

The crashing and clanging drew everyone’s attention. Others asked if everything was okay and what happened. The two closest ran over and moved the ladder off  Steve. 

“Stevie,” Y/N said, lightly tapping his face, “hey, say something so we know you’re okay!” 

Steve just groaned and cracked an eye open to look at her. 

“Ow.”

Bucky called out, “Eh, he’s fine.”

Tony just laughed and walked away. An exasperated sigh made her slump onto his chest. He chuckled and leaned up to press a kiss on her hair. She raised her head. 

“I think I’ve got a new nickname for you,” she said. His smirk just grew. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Captain Klutz.”

[harrys-reverie]

DOG YEARS // Harry Styles O.U.

Part 2: The Bar Cart

a/n: hey and welcome to part 2! this is kind of short but I felt that it  needed to be it’s own chapter (in my head it makes sense.) aw harry and colette are v sweet in this one (i love them already). also there is colette’s face claim in the collage/mood board above including real pics from the soho farmhouse. :) comments, likes and REBLOGS are v much appreciated happy reading! 

STORY PAGE // PART 1

What I had concluded throughout the night was that this small group of Harry and his friends were just so normal. It was so easy to watch him on a phone clip or on the screen of a TV for an award show and have a false preconception of who he was. After all, he was a huge celebrity -- it’s hard not to imagine him being a certain way. I never could have dreamed he would be the way he is though, I suppose that’s the beauty of first getting to know somebody. As the hours weened late and the clock neared 12 AM, I realized Harry Styles was as normal as any man in a baby chick sweater could be. 

I had never been a massive Harry Styles fan, sure if his song came on the radio I bopped along. If I saw him on my Snapchat Daily Mail snippets, I’d read them every so often — but other than that I had no true preconception of who he was and what he was about. I guess that came in my favor because I had no high expectations from him and therefore he could only go up from there. Throughout the night the five of us took an abundant amount of shots and played a few childish ‘Truth or Dare’ games. I found myself taking a shot of maple syrup and pickle juice MIXED — Harry’’s idea of a dare.

This was the most fun I had since moving over here to England, and in the presence of all these ‘misfit’ like personas, I felt at home. There was no awkward beats, shame or egos. The whole atmosphere was completely judgement free and as light as a feather. I talked to everyone, chatting away about California, good food spots, sports and more. I found it so refreshing to be able to relate to other people’s stories about my home state, a place I was starting to long for.

It was fair to say that we were all peak drunk around 12, dancing along to old 70’s hits as well as current ones. Jamie tried to teach us all  ‘TikTok’ dances she had learnt from her children back home. Of course the 5 of us tried our best to be choreographed and in sync, but failed miserably. Little did they all know I spent most of my free time perfecting these stupid dances. Of course any videos we took, were never posted publicly...but some did make the cut as a private post to a whopping 0 followers. Watching Harry Styles sing the words “I'm a savage. Classy, bougie, ratchet, sassy, moody, nasty” with a bunch of hip pops was an award winning scene.

So as it reached 1 am, I was near my max of what I could handle for the night. My head which was once spinning was now beginning to pound and that gross dry feeling in my mouth was taking over. I hated this part. I didn’t feel sick to my stomach yet but I knew if I didn’t get sleep soon I’d be regretting it.

“Hey, so do ya need a ride back home?” Harry’s raspy voice asked, reading the room very well. He had taken a sudden seat next to me on the couch, spreading his legs apart and laying his head back fully — complete relaxation.

“You drank tonight,” I reprimanded him jokingly. But I meant it, he was the most plastered of all of us. “You can’t drive, even if it’s just down the hill.”

“Can’t argue with that,” He hummed. “’M pretty trashed still.”

I turned my head towards him, he was still looking up as if he was admiring the wood paneled ceilings, taking every detail in. But when I looked closer, his eyes were shut. His face structure was flawless if I’d say so myself. His jaw looked like it could cut someone, his eyebrows full enough to make any girl jealous, and those floppy, thick waves — it was hard to admit that he wasn’t handsome. I blinked my eyes hard, trying to get out of the small trance I was under. I was drunk after all.

“Well…” I began, “I need to start heading down to my casa.”

“Well…” Harry chirped, directing his attention towards me. “If I can’t drive you back down, the least I could do is walk you there.”

“No, please,” I scoffed. 

“Yeah, yeah. Shaddup and grab your coat, it’s about to get chilly out there.”

I knew I’d manage doing the walk by myself well enough alone. The premises of Soho Farmhouse were protected with heavy security and gates. I knew I had no reasons to worry about a swift 5 minute trudge down a hill.

“No Harry, seriously. I’ll be fine!” I argued back, forming a tight lip smile to reassure him.

“Who knows?  A bloody chicken could be loose and start chasing you, ya? Plus, it’s my duty to make sure you get back safe. Now, up!” He instructed. “’M a gentleman.”

I knew there was no point in fighting back, he was adamant about it. Plus the look on his face when I obliged was well worth it. 

The two of us said our quick fair wells to everyone  who was still gathered round the kitchen island talking amongst each other. It might have been the alcohol, but I felt oddly emotional saying goodbye to all of them. For the first time in a month I made what felt like real connections with a group of people and all I wanted was to hang out with them forever. I was bummed knowing Jamie and Jeff would only be here for another week or so.

“Shall we take the wagon, bar cart contraption thing?” Harry offered, pointing to the blue wagon filled with alcohol. 

“I don’t even have the keys.”

“Fair enough, walking it is.”

“Thanks for having me tonight,” I spoke tiredly.

“Don’t even worry about it. Glad to be of assistance in the ‘lit’ department,” He laughed, using quotations around the word lit.

“You’re very Americanized,” I noted. He turned his head to me, raising his eyebrow as if he had just been accused of something terrible.

“That’s why I’m back here in the English countryside. Trying to ween away from all that LA bullshit…” He admitted, running a hand through his hair nervously.

“LA bullshit?” I asked, appalled...maybe even a little offended. Although I had lived in Northern California, an insult to one city of my state was an insult to all.

“Yeah, erm, spent too much time there ‘s all...” Harry mumbled. I was almost sure by his tone he was not giving off the complete truth but I didn’t want to push. Harry started to fiddle with his bottom lips, hit teeth constantly biting it over and over. Most likely a nervous habit. 

We continued walking along the cobblestone in silence, the click-clack of our shoes echoing through the emptiness of the night. Despite the quietness of it all, it felt pretty comfortable.

“I love LA,” I offered sheepishly. “I mean, as long as you surround yourself with the right people, I think LA’s one of the best places you could be.”

“Well you’re just saying that,” He countered. “You’re from California, you’re supposed to say that.”

“False!”

“I loved LA too,” Harry admitted, focusing his attention back to the cobblestone ground ahead of him.

“Loved?” I asked inquisitively.

He turned his gaze to me and laughed, “It’s complicated.”

“LA can have that effect,” I said back, trying not to delve any deeper. I had just met him today after all, there was no reason for him to trust me with any of his problems. 

“I think you staying here will definitely be a big change. It’s about as simple as it gets.” I didn’t want to delve any deeper and invade his privacy so I took his explanation as it was. I couldn’t help but think there may have been a direct correlation with his quick mood change yesterday and his reasoning for disliking California. 

“Looking forward to it,” He smiled. “‘S kinda just like, the perfect situation for me. No press, no distractions, just focusing on myself...the music.”

“Mmm, exciting.”

Harry caught my gaze, “You’ve got no idea.”

We began to approach my cottage, the smallest one on the property. The lights on in the kitchen we’re still on from when I left. They were now shining through the windows giving a angelic glow to the darkness of the night.

“No rush to get up early tomorrow.” Harry insisted as we approached the large wooden door. I looked at him excitedly, all I wanted to do was sleep in after tonight and he had just granted me his permission to do so.

“Really?” I questioned.

He nodded his head, “I’ll be sleeping in late too. Bloody tired.”

“Alright I’ll just wait for a text from Jeff..”

Harry cut me off swiftly, “Or myself.” He pointed a finger to his chest playfully.

“Or yourself,” I agreed.

“But don’t worry, like I said, sleep in and uh I’ll see you tomorrow maybe.”

For some unknown reason the air between us felt extremely awkward. I was still a little tipsy, but coming down quickly. I thought to myself that if this was any other guy, I’d probably be on my tippy toes and ready to kiss him, because why not? But it was Harry Styles. He was like my boss, I guess, and he’d have no interest in me. If anything he’d file a restraining order if I tried to pull something like that. I pulled my jacket closer to my body as the air swirled around us.

“Alright well goodnight!” I exclaimed bringing him in for a quick side hug. Harry quickly turned it into a full on hug, giving me a tight squeeze. He smelled divine. How badly I wanted to arch my head up and meet his lips, which were probably freezing. The alcohol just does something to me and makes me want to kiss almost anybody to be fair. Making out with friends whilst drunk was one of my famous traits. It was like he had handed his warmth over to me because being embraced in him I instantly felt warmer, any shivers I once had were gone.

He let go of me and awkwardly stood there, his hands flying into his pockets. “Just want to make sure you get in safe,” He noted, bringing his lips into an awkward smile, shooting his gaze towards the door.

“Oh yeah, of course,” I laughed nervously. I emphasized the key in my hand, giving him a big smile as I twisted it and unlocked the heavy door.

“Right,” He muttered.

“Get back safe!” I chirped, allowing myself to fully walk in the warmth of my cottage and turning to face him.

“I’ll text you.”

“Oh?” I arched my eyebrow at him jokingly.

“Goodnight, Colette.” And with that he turned on his feet, slowly waking back up the treacherous hill and to his abode.

I slammed the door fast, the thunderous noise vibrating through my whole cottage. I rested my back against it in a state of relief and confusion of the encounter I had just endured. Pulling myself back together and avoiding any intrusive thoughts I may begin to think, i decided to start up a hot shower and brew myself tea.

HARRYS POV

I felt weird. I hadn’t felt this way since the night I had met Camille, years ago at a friends party. It was a feeling I longed for, but also was scared of. The creative side of me wanted to embrace the feeling, the broken side of me wanted to steer clear. I knew the girl I had just waved goodbye to depended on this job, I couldn’t just ask for a replacement — plus, I was intrigued. I felt like I was at tug of war with myself over a girl I had just met earlier today. It was a tad ridiculous.

I figured the best thing for me to do was to only call her around when trulynecessary. It wasn’t like me to be this unwelcoming, but the feeling in my stomach that was creeping up to my mind was telling me to be this way. I wasn’t going to text her tomorrow for anything. Colette, right? Yep, that was her name — how could I forget it. A face as pretty as the name. I didn’t say much when I came back into my temporary home, instead I insisted I needed sleep and get a propers nice rest of what was left of it anyways. It was the most polite way to let my dear pals know to fuck off for the night. I loved them all, but I needed to get situated and I wanted space. Time to myself is what I cherished most.

I rushed up to my bedroom, shutting the door and entering the attached bathroom. I neatly undressed myself, taking a deep stare in the mirror. I looked at myself hard, the alcohol was still in my system so I appeared a little fuzzy. I felt older, my hairline was not what it used to be in the 1D days, it didn’t bother me but I had seen some tweets about it. My facial hair was growing in kind of unevenly, this is what I get for wanting to be independent and not have a stylish take care of how I look. I preferred it that way though, that’s how it should be.

Sighing, I went for the toothbrush and started on my nightly routine. I wanted to create a new set of routine now that I was becoming accustomed into this place I’d be calling ‘home’ for the next four months.

After freshening up, I let my body get underneath the cool covers, pulling them up high up to my neck to keep me warm. I stared at my phone that was sitting on the wooden table side. I always kept my phone on Do Not Disturb when I was taking time off for myself. Seeing a bunch of missed calls and emails stressed me out, and I wanted to detach from all that. I let out a puff of air, knowing what I’d be seeing if I decided to take a look at my phone. But the alcohol that was left in me couldn’t hold back so I reached for it anyways.

I quickly opened up the safari tab and typed my own name, something I was never keen on doing. I hadn’t done it for weeks actually, but I knew there was a part of me that needed to see what was being said. Just like that, a bunch of highlights of new articles and my name as well as hers were everywhere.

“Fuck..” I sighed, closing my eyes shut for a second. “Why..”

Camille Rowe, model and famed ex girlfriend of musician and heartthrob Harry Styles releases tell all book — including steamy details of  her former romance with the star!

Click. I waited for the page to load, nervously biting my lower lip.

There’s a lot of things we should thank Camille Rowe for — her Vogue tips on how to achieve the perfect Parisian makeup look, inspiring the fabulous Harry Styles Fine Line album and now releasing a book telling us ALL about her old relationship with the man himself!

Details in the book delve deep into her once what seemed great, but now known doomed relationship with the singer. She mentions details of cheating, jealously and what Harry’s really like in the bed. Thanks Camille — you’ve answered all of our questions. Turns out, Harry is just as packed as we thought he would be!

I couldn’t read it anymore, I felt humiliated and invaded of my privacy. Privacy. The one thing I valued most in my life, the one thing I hold onto like it is the most precious jewel in the world. Privacy — the one thing Camille knew was the most important aspect of my life. I grew up in the spotlight, placed under a huge amount of pressure and scrutiny. I felt as if I was made from a testing tube so specially to fit into a mold of a person I wasn’t.

For so long in my life I had felt as if people knew everything about me, even more than I did — and that’s a harsh feeling. I regained that privacy back after leaving the band and learned how to maintain a healthy balance of showcasing who I was to the world but holding back at the same time. It was what made my albums, my art, so special. Making my songs and putting them out there was  my own personal invitation to those who listened, to get a glimpse into my life.

I felt sick and the alcohol in my stomach stirred the more I thought about that damn book.I was getting older, and alcohol didn’t clique with my body the way it used to. I opened my messages up, seeing Camille’s name at almost the top of my list of new messages, probably trying to apologize.  What she should have done was ask if I was comfortable with her releasing a book that almost solely focused on our past relationship. A relationship that was well done with for almost 3 years now. For fucks sake, I’d always have love for the lady, but she never knew when she took things too far. I finally felt at peace and fully over her, and here she was ambushing my life and swiping away my beloved privacy.

I swiped left on the unopened messages, deleting them before even reading. I had to focus on the positive, that’s why I was here in the countryside after all. I hadn’t answered my publicist since the damn book came out last week, I didn’t even know where to start or what to stay. I wanted to keep silent, MIA.

Tonight with Colette though, I forgot about it all. She was stunning, there was no denying that. Funny too, and a little shy. She didn’t come off star struck by my presence, she treated me like any bloke off the street. Normal. Dropping her off at her cottage tonight, after spending the past few hours with her bloody gorgeous face, I wanted to snog her face off. Was I getting too old to be acting that way? I didn’t want to scare her off though, and that wasn’t really my style anymore.

Hookups and shit. The amount of one night stands from my days in the band were shameful. Thinking back to having security bring girls we thought were hot to our hotel rooms for a quick fuck, was so common back then, it was insane.  It was a part of my life that I felt deep regret for, and sickened me to think about. I was young, horny, and willing to give my body up to any girl. Most of the time, I felt awkward. I’d see a girl at the bar in a fancy hotel we were at, I wouldn’t even say a word to her, 20 minutes later I was back in my room, waiting for my security to drop her off for an hour or so. No phones, sign an NDA, show ID of proof of legal age, be my type and bam, she got to be fucked by Harry Styles.

Things were so much different now, I focused more on making those connections, I found it built more of an attraction. The lead up to the sex or the relationship, was now my favorite thing. After years of getting instant sex, waiting for it had now become the best part.

I shook my head, brushing away these invasive thoughts I wanted to avoid and memories I wanted to forget. Switching off the lamp beside me and placing my phone on charge, I dozed off.

[traphousebois]

Scratches and Hickeys

Requested: Yes 

Summary: After a fun night with your boyfriend you notice all the damage that you two left behind. 

Masterlist 

Your Pov; 

Peeling my eyes open I was met with the sight of Colby’s white ceiling. I blinked a few times to get away any sleep that was threatening to stay. Once I was sure I got rid of the sleepiness I rolled over to the left. The sight that greeted me was a sight that made me smile brighter than the sun. Colby shifted and I was afraid that I had woken him up but he ended up only moving an inch. Colby looked perfect. His brown was a mess from the rough night that we had. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were plumped and chapped. Even though he looked like a little bit of a mess, I still thought the was the prettiest boy alive. I was so lucky to be able to call him mine. With that thought in mind I reached over and gently placed my lips upon his. 

“Good morning baby.” I whispered once I pulled away. 

Colby let out a soft moan. 

“Morning.” He said while wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer to him so I could lay upon his chest. 

“How did you sleep?” I asked once I got comfortable. 

“I slept fine,” He replied while his thumb rubbed up and down my shoulder. “How about you?” 

“Same as you.” 

He nodded and pressed a light kiss upon my forehead. 

“Do you have any plans for today?” He asked. 

I shrugged. I honestly didn’t know what my plans were today. I was the type of person to just go with the flow. 

“Do you just want to hang out here all day?” He asked. “I’m pretty sure everybody’s just filming today so we could just chill.” 

I laughed at Colby’s statement. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“I love how that since you think everybody’s gonna be filming it's gonna be chill.” I replied to him while using my fingers to create quotations marks around the word “chill.” 

Colby pushed out his bottom lip. 

“Don’t roast me,” He said. “It’s too early for that.” 

I rolled my eyes. If I had to guess the time it was probably around 11. 

“Babe, it's probably almost 11, that’s not early at all,” I said. “Early is considered around like 8.” 

“Stop being so mean to me.” 

“I’m doing it out of love.” 

“Uh uh sure you are babe.” 

Colby and I cuddled in bed for about an hour before we decided that it was finally time to start the day. 

“Whoa,” Colby said once I stood up from his bed. 

I gave him a confused look. 

“What?” I asked. “What’s wrong?” 

“You might want to look at your neck.” 

At that, I grabbed my phone that was sitting on his nightstand and opened up snapchat. As soon as the app opened up I switched the camera so it was facing me. Once it focused I let out a loud gasp. 

“Colby! Look at what you did!” I shouted at him. 

My neck was covered in black and blue marks. They were so dark that I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to cover them with makeup. 

“Baby, there not that bad.” Colby said trying to defend himself. 

“Not that bad?” I asked in disbelief. ��It looks like I got strangled to death!” 

“I wouldn’t go that far babe.” 

I rolled my eyes. He was so dead. 

“That’s it! No sex for a month.” I stated while placing my phone back down and walking over to his closet. 

“Babe! You can’t do that to me!” He said with his voice slightly raised. 

I shook my head. 

“Yeah I can.” 

My eyes scanned over the various amounts of clothing in Colby’s closet. For a guy who wears the same thing nearly everyday he sure does have a lot of items.

“Babe, come on,” Colby said. 

From my peripheral vision I could see him standing up from the bed and make his way over to me.

“You can’t do that,” He said while placing his hands on my shoulders. “Besides, it’s not like you didn’t want it.” 

He did have a point. 

“Whatever,” I muttered under my breath, knowing he was right.

I quickly grabbed one of his sweatshirts and pulled it over my head. I had to hide these hickey’s somehow. 

“Besides, it’s not like I’m the only one who left marks on the other person.” 

I quickly turned around to face him. 

“What do ya mean?” 

Colby let out a slight smirk and turned around.

His back was littered with scratch marks. They were long, red, and angry. 

“Oh my god,” I said while bringing my hand out to touch one.”Do they hurt at all?” 

Colby shrugged and turned back around. 

“Eh not really. Just a slight stinging.” 

I let out a pout. I never meant to hurt him. 

“I’m so sorry,” I said while burying my face into his naked chest. “I never meant to hurt you.” 

Colby’s chest rumbled against my cheek. 

“It’s okay babe,” He said while running his hands up and down my back. “You didn’t mean to do it.” 

We stayed in each other's embrace for a while. The both of us not wanting to let the other go. 

Our moment was cut short by Jake opening the door. 

“Hey you guys- whoa is everything okay?” 

Colby and I pulled apart and started to laugh. 

“Everything’s fine brother, What’s up?” 

Jake furrowed his eyebrows in concern before shaking his head. 

“I wanted to know if you wanted to be in a video?” 

Colby shrugged. 

“Sure, what video?” 

“It’s some skit I wanna do,” Jake said. “I’ll tell ya more about it when you come downstairs.” 

Colby nodded and turned around to grab his shirt that was laying on the floor. As soon as he did Jake caught a glimpse of his back and let out a loud laugh. 

“Looks like someone had a fun night.” 

Colby quickly grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head. 

“Ha ha ha very funny.” 

“It looks like you got murdered brother!” Jake shouted while throwing his hands out in front of him. 

“This is nothing,” Colby said. “If you want to see what murder looks like you should see Y/N’s neck.” 

My eyes grew wide. I was not expecting him to say that.

At his statement Jake quickly came over and pulled down the top of the sweatshirt I was wearing. Once he saw what was underneath he let out a gasp. 

“Damn brother,” He said while inspecting my neck. “I didn’t know you were a freak.” 

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” 

Jake just shook his head. 

“Welp, I’m gonna go downstairs now,” He said while making his way over towards the door. “I found out  a lot more information than I needed to.” And with that Jake closed the door shut behind him. 

I looked up at Colby. 

“Well that was interesting.” 

“Agreed.” 

“Come on,” I said while grabbing his hand and walking towards the door. “Let’s go downstairs before anything else happens.”

Colby nodded his head in agreement and let out a slight chuckle.  

“And to think I thought this was gonna be a chill day.”

Authors note: Hey guys! Sorry I haven't been posting as much. I’ve just been super busy with concerts, work and school. But now that my millions of concerts are over I’m gonna try to knock out the rest of the imagines that I have. I have most of them started but I just get stuck halfway through them lol. But I hope you enjoy this one and thanks for all of your patience! Love you!  

[yuthoe]

aaa okay so looked at the rules and could you do their idol crush admitting that they’re their type but with yuto, wooseok and kino? 🥺

HELLO, I FINALLY DID IT, SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT.It’s almost 4AM here and I wanted to get this out in case I become unproductive again when I wake up. I was halfway through Kino’s part when I realized the reader should be gender-neutral, oops. It’s too late for me to edit it again right now, so it’s gonna stay like that. I’ll take care next time, tho.

WARNINGS: none. WORD COUNT: 842, 971, 632.

—

Yuto

“Yuto-ya,” Hui called from his spot on his tiny couch in Yuto’s studio. It’s one of his rare days-off, but he isn’t in the mood to go into the city, and staying in the dorm is too boring since everyone else is busy with their other stuff. So he just decided to tag along with Yuto to his studio and listen to him make some songs. He might even sneak in a nap or two since he hasn’t been sleeping well later—but all thoughts of sleep fly out the window as soon as he sees on his phone a newly uploaded video starring you, known in Pentagon as Yuto’s crush. “Yuto-ya, come here!” he says, tossing the stuffed teddy bear at the boy sitting by the computers.

The toy hits Yuto square in the head and he jumps, turning the seat around in confusion. “What is it, hyung?”

Hui turns the phone so the screen is visible to Yuto. “Isn’t this Y/N?”

A quick glance and, yes, it’s you. Yuto likes to think he can find you in a crowd, no matter how many hairstyle changes you gave or how much you try to blend in with your clothes, but that just comes off kind of creepy. He has watched a lot of your interviews; and you have a lot of them, being a big figure in a famous idol group. He’s just so captivated by your range, your stage presence… It just gets him breathless whenever he sees you perform.

Your group is in the middle of a comeback right now, and Yuto has been religiously keeping up with any promotional material for your group that’s been coming up, but he’s just been super focused on his music today that the only thing that shocked him out of the haze was the teddy bear thrown at his head. Yuto stares at the tiny phone screen for a second longer before getting off the office chair and squishing beside Hui on the couch that isn’t really made for someone of his size.

The video continues playing as his leader turns up the volume. Your group is sat on swivel bar chairs in a white studio set. Gosh, you look radiant, as always. The pleasantries are over and the topic has gone to the announcement your company made about being able to date openly. Yuto isn’t lying that there was a tiny spark of hope that lit up inside him when he first heard of the news. But of course, that was just wishful thinking, since he doesn’t think you actually know him anyway. Sure, you may have heard of Pentagon the group, but there isn’t as big a chance of you taking an interest in him.

Being seated on the farthest chair from the hosts, your answer is saved for last. The other members of your group dodged the question by saying they weren’t really looking to date anyone or dropping names like J.Seph from KARD or Vernon from Seventeen being their ideal type of guy. You take a second or two more to think about your answer and say, “I’d like to get to know Yuto from Pentagon more.”

“Oooohhh,” the hosts exclaim. “He’s one of the rappers isn’t he?” one of them asks.

“Yes,” you say politely, smiling. Yuto isn’t sure if you’re actually red in the face or if that’s just the blush on your cheeks. “I really like the flow of his raps, and his voice is really nice.”

“Ahh, so you’re saying you like tall guys, yes?” the other host teases.

You laugh, slightly embarrassed. “I guess? I don’t really have a type, but Yuto was the first person to pop into my head who I am really interested in and would like to get to know.”

The hosts nod in approval, and your group members seated around you slap you playfully for admitting something like that.

Hui releases a high-pitched siren sound and playfully slaps Yuto playfully on the arm with his free hand. “Do you hear that, Yuto? Seems they like you, too. I wonder if we can go to one of their recordings for this comeback, hmm… Or maybe if our comebacks coincide you can talk to them then, huh?...” Hui continues to rattle off possibilities of Yuto getting into contact with you.

Meanwhile Yuto is still staring at the screen, frozen. The video continues to play, but he isn’t registering anything. Did you really just say, out loud, with a mic on, that you want to get to know him more? Like, he isn’t hallucinating that? Those words really came out of your mouth?

His chest is tight. It burns, but it’s also light. Yuto can’t put into words the feeling. Your sentiments are intangible, and there weren’t even any promises of actually going through with meeting up or exchanging numbers…

But it made him giddy. Indescribably happy.

He lets slip the tiniest of smiles as he continues watching the video and Hui mutters to himself about possible get-togethers with your groups.

Kino

It’s been a habit of Kino lately to listen to podcasts when he gets back to the dorm, as a way to unwind after a busy day. Not because he listens to them (although he does find time to listen and pay attention some other time), but the sound of amicable voices in the sometimes empty dorm is a comforting presence.

One of the podcasts he’s been listening to lately is called Ladies’ Room. His sister told him to listen to one of the episodes, and he found the discussions fun and educational, so he decided to just follow it and he’s updated with the latest one. So when a notification pops up on his phone about a new episode with a special guest, he immediately blasted it on his Bluetooth speaker.

“Hey, guys! This is Soo Ri and you’re listening to Ladies’ Room,” the host’s voice, like a droplet of water falling into a crystal clear puddle, slithers out from the speaker. “Today, we’re talking about love and relationships with a very special guest… idol-slash-actor-slash model, Y/N!”

“Hello, everybody!” you say, in a sweet cadence like a breeze rustling windchimes.

Kino almost drops the container of microwavable tteokkbokki he’s holding and looks at his phone, scandalized, as if it personally offended him. Obviously, it wouldn’t be a stretch for you to guest in podcasts, and even less of a stretch for you to guest-host this particular podcast, but Kino is still surprised. He can’t deny that it feels nice to know that he found you so unexpectedly.

Kino can’t remember when he started taking an interest on you. There was just one time when everytime he turned on the TV he would see your face—in a commercial, a variety show, a drama, that he finally decided to check you out. And from the first music video he clicked, he was hooked on you. Your way with words, your voice, your personality all just made him really want to know you more.

He doesn’t call it a crush, although to Yuto and Wooseok, the only two other people who know about his fanaticism, it comes off that way in droves. He shakes his head and finally unfreezes, putting the tteokbokki in the microwave to heat up. His ears automatically pick up the conversation.

“I know you must be really annoyed and fed up by questions like these, since I watch a lot of your interviews and the hosts ask about it a lot,” Soo Ri begins. “But what’s your stance on ideal types—like your ideal guy, or girl—and do you have one yourself?”

“Aahh, yeah, I do get questions like that sometimes, but they’re in different contexts, so I don’t really mind them.” Kino thinks that’s a polite answer and mentally claps. He hears you take a deep breath before saying, “I don’t think having an ideal type is realistic, though. I mean, that’s what ‘ideal’ means: it’s your idea of perfection, the best. I guess it could be like a blueprint for what you want in a partner, but I don’t think it’s possible for you to be able to tick off all those boxes.”

“Oh, yeah, I get what you’re saying. That’s a really good point.”

“As for my ideal type…” You hum, seeming deep in thought, but not enough to cause dead air. “It’s not really an ‘ideal’ type,” Kino can almost hear the air quotation marks when you said the word and it makes him smile, “but Kino from Pentagon has a lot of the qualities I like in someone.”

By now, Kino had taken his food from the microwave and taken a bite. He freezes with a mouth stuffed with tteokbokki. The spicy soup stinging his lips assures him that he is definitely awake and definitely not dreaming. Did she just—?

“Yeah,” he hears, desperately trying to tune back into the conversation. “He has a very bubbly and fun personality. He’s humble and loves his members and his fans. He’s also very good at what he does—I’ve listened to some of his stuff on SoundCloud, and they’re really good,” you say, and Kino thinks he should probably start chewing before he chokes on the rice cakes. “I mean, his dancing is excellent, his voice is so nice, and he’s also super cute.”

At this, you and Soo Ri both laugh conspiratorially, as if sharing a secret only between you two, as if this podcast isn’t going to be uploaded somewhere anyone who has access to the Internet can listen to, somewhere Kino can access at a moment’s notice.

Kino’s sure his face is as red as the tteokbokki soup right now. Literally no one can see because he’s the only one in the kitchen, but his face is on fire. He continues chewing and stuffing the rice cake strips into his mouth as he spirals into a crisis. His idol crush actually likes him back? He doesn’t think you actually like him, but you did say that there’s some aspects of him you like. That’s kind of similar, right? Right?

The whine comes out garbled from his full mouth. On one hand, he feels way lighter, bouncier, more energetic at knowing that the idol he likes knows about his existence and that she actually likes things about him and openly talked about it on a podcast, oh my goodness is this really real, like no one is messing with me right now?

So Kino sits there, lost in thought as he continues spearing food with his chopsticks, thinking. About how to reach you, maybe get your number, maybe propose a tiny collaboration? Maybe? About how he’s going to act in front of you in the off-chance that you do meet, as you and Soo Ri continue chatting in the background.

Wooseok

He can’t help stealing glances at you—you look really good in this comeback, and it takes everything for Wooseok to not be too conspicuous and focus on the interview that coincidentally has Pentagon and your group as guests. He’d like to think it’s a dream, but really, it feels more like a nightmare because he’s seated right next to you and his members literally won’t stop looking back and giving him mischievous smiles, or turning their chairs towards your group and making small talk, trying to drag him into the conversation and he feels like a fool because he seems incapable of replying with more than two-syllable words.

And it somehow gets worse during the segments. Not that the hosts are bad—they’re really good hosts. It’s just that there’s a segment where they read selected fan mail, so they would all have to answer it because they don’t really want to disappoint the fans by deflecting. The first few were harmless: what food they like eating during summer, if you were an animal what would you be? But then it went from zero to 100 real quick as the third question is read by your group’s leader, “Which idol is your ideal type?”

Everyone can’t help but make exclamations, oohs and ahs as they think of an appropriate answer. The hosts are gracious and give everyone ten seconds or so to come up with their answers before coaxing out some people’s. Eventually the line snaked to you and you timidly replied, “Wooseok-sunbae,” while avoiding his eyes.

If Wooseok could see himself in a mirror, he would see his eyes bug out and threatening to pop from their sockets, mouth desperately pursing to prevent the huge smile forming on his face. He doesn’t know how to react—what should he do, Cube didn’t train them for this. He needs help and Shinwon keeps slapping his thigh and arm like that isn’t the most obvious thing to do when they’re being filmed.

He can tell you’re embarrassed. You’re facing the hosts, your back to Wooseok, though he’s assuming your face is super red right now, and it’s not because of the blush. He kind of just wants this to be over so you can have a reprieve, but the hosts (being hosts), ask you to elaborate.

“Um, he’s a really great rapper, and he seems really caring,” you say softly. “I watched a program with him once taking care of his cats, and I thought it was really cute.” Wooseok recalls that show and his chest loosens slightly at the mention of it, touched that you remember that tiny segment he did. He really loves his cat, and he’s not gonna admit it, but he likes that your takeaway from the program is that he looks cute playing with tiny animals.

“Ooh, yes, we love guys who are nice to animals,” one of the hosts says, and turns directly to Wooseok. “Wooseok-sshi, since she mentioned you, we’ll leave you for last, okay? So we can properly build up the hype for the viewers back at home.” The boy nods; at least this gives him time to think of nice things to say to you amidst the flurry of thoughts running through his head at the moment.

He imagines talking to you after filming is over and exchanging numbers. He imagines hanging out with you if you have any free time. He imagines maybe doing a small collaboration with you, wishes it were possible. The images he conjures up make him smile, even if he is still kind of embarrassed—he was never one of the cucumber-cool members of the group—but he decides that since you threw yourself off the boat, he might as well throw himself off and join you.

[woogurl]

Why Woosan Fights?

“hello, so i’ve been watching woosan for a while, and i must say their friendship is incredibly beautiful. honestly, i’m a jikook shipper, but i’ve honestly found myself interested in woosan’s dynamic lately.

the reason why i’m writing this is because i’ve noticed a lot of people have claimed that woosan is often “fighting”. and though honestly, we could never know what goes on behind closed doors we can make assumptions on what we think the members relationships are like based on what we see in general i suppose?

this might be a bit long, but bear with me. i wanted to do an analysis on what i think woosan’s relationship/dynamic is behind closed doors. 

as you can imagine, it’s very hard to find interactions where it’s just them in a comfortable environment. they’re often surrounded by cameras/other people.

i don’t think i can trust shows/concerts to portray what woosan’s relationship is really like, but i think vlive is probably the closest we could get to knowing how they actually interact with each other.

and that’s exactly what i’m going to be analyzing today, the vlive they did together(which ultimately included yunho too, haha) about 10 months ago. i know that’s quite a while back. but oddly enough woosan don’t often do vlives. do i think it’s because they don’t share rooms? i’m not entirely sure because from what they’ve both told us. they go to each others rooms quite often.

i am by no means a professional, but i really like analyzing human behavior. anyhow this is getting too long already. so let’s start. 

the vlive starts with them both quite happy and comfortable, at this time nothing in particular is happening. they’re having a totally normal conversation as friends withing the first few minutes. They’re currently in Wooyoung/Jongho’s shared room. San came to see Wooyoung, and according to him he goes their often and he says that while cocking a brow. heh. 

this vlive is like an hour and 16 minutes long, so I’m not going to go through everything, just the things i find interesting or important. but basically they spend most of that time playing games.

what i’ve noticed is that wooyoung is someone who likes to take initiative, and as you can see from the ss above he is very in tune to the audience and the fans. he seems to be the type to take control/dominate a conversation and the direction in which it will go. why do i say this? because he asks san what they should do today for the vlive, and throughout the vlive if you watch, you’ll see yunho and san often look for wooyoung’s confirmation on whatever ideas they have. 

within eight minutes of the vlive yunho starts calling in.

and san’s tone of voice drops as he says, “who is it?”

and as wooyoung reaches for the phone(he practically already had it at that point), san is reaching for the phone as well. but why? this isn’t even your room son lol.

i think this is important because even though it’s very subtle i think it shows the first signs of san being irritated or annoyed that they were being interrupted. after woo tells him that it’s yunho, so he hung up san’s literally like, “good job”.

yunho then calls again, ‘cause he’s bored obviously, but at this point san’s like okay, go away tho. xD

but then woo’s like he complimented us so the next second they’re like. AH, THANK YOU. lmfao. then san’s like, “shall we move on”. but yun calls again and san’s like.

“it’s so noisy”, as woo answers again. i’ll also note that san sucks in his teeth a couple times. which clearly shows he’s irritated. which i find interesting because we often seen very bubbly/energetic/child-like in a way when they’re broadcasting. however, according to the fansign in melbourne yeosang said san is the scariest when angry. 

so you’re probably asking why is any of this relevant. well, it’s because i’m sure most people aren’t used to seeing this side of san, which is why i’m highlighting these small moments, which paint a bigger picture of who he is. ‘cause while i do think san can be a bubbly/energetic/child-like person he tends to mellow out and become a lot more mature, calm and practical. now how is this relevant to woosan? well, i feel like this vlive might highlight why they may “fight” often, and i’m putting that in quotation marks because i’m sure those fights are just arguments. anyhow let’s continue. 

yunho calls again and woo answers quickly, while san is just like...

he does roll his eyes in a very subtle manner and sucks in his teeth more. which again shows he’s clearly irritated, i find it interesting because. if he’s hard to make angry why is he so irritated while woo is amused? is it because he wants to just spend time with woo? it’s a possibility. 

they’re now talking about yunho joining a bit later, while san is just like.

for a brief moment he made that face, before he controlled it.

at the end of the phone call san is just like.

“very polite” as he caresses woo’s neck. now this moment makes me think about what san answered for why he liked woo, in which he says he liked that he respected his elders or something like that. so i think that is a genuine aspect that san likes about woo and we’re seeing it as proof here. though i must say i’m curious why this aspect in particular interest san. like, we don’t go like, “ah man, i like this girl/boy, ‘cause they’re just....SO POLITE.” not typically at least. then again i do know how important honorifics are in korea and there is a hierarchy, so that might have something to do with it. not entirely sure. 

a little later, san reads a comment, and i suppose it said something about suing woo ‘cause he’s so handsome. ‘cause he said, “you’re sued everyday”. woo’s like duh btch, it’s me woo the guy in charge of sexiness, and san’s like....

“behave yourself” nrgjkengjikenfjiwkfier #domsan

then you guessed it...yun calls again and woo’s like, “YES!” while san is...

“STRESS” you done stressed my boi out yun. lmfao. at this point i don’t think san is easily annoyed, i mean yun has called like 5-6 damn times. he has a right to be stressed. woo may just have an incredible amount of patience. lmfao.

they continue playing the game and yun calls again and san is still stressed y’all. 

as they continue with the game, san says something he’s already said, and woo’s like you’ve already said it but he says it in a cute manner, ‘cause san’s all like...

“Why are you acting cute?” he felt attacked y’all. from what i can see in the vlive, i have a feeling this is true to what woo’s nature if off camera. many people feel like their relationship is one-sided because it’s often san showing affection. however, san has claimed that woo was actually the member that was difficult to get along with because he was so touchy. he then said in a vlive with mingi that woo is touchy, though mingi disagreed and said it’s actually san who’s touchy. san then said they’re both equally touchy. 

after witnessing woo with the other members i can see that he is definitely touchy, he likes to kiss seonghwa a lot there’s literally compilation of it. lmfao. 

and in this vlive you can see woo constantly rocking back and forth, as well as leaning into san a lot. i can even spot a couple of times where he looked at his lips. i think this is because he really wants to touch him, but he can’t because there’s a camera right in their faces. lmfao. 

for some reason woo doesn’t want to be clingy with san, but is fine with doing it with seonghwa why? my reasoning is i think he likes to provoke and tease san to death and this vlive shows that very clearly and you’ll understand what i mean later. however, we do notice him being more clingy with him like the fansign where he was literally clinging onto him like a koala, but i don’t want to get into that in this post. i do however, believe that woo did that because he realized san wasn’t gonna continue being the fool/chaser. 

now as the vlive continue they play games, and as i said before woo gives out a lot of commands and dictates the actions that are to be taken place. he doesn’t decide what games/punishments they play but he determines which one they’ll play and which punishments should be followed through with. lmfao. san and yun listens to him well, he even gives yun a task he has to complete for them to let him in according to woo, he wants to see how witty yun can be, and san’s later like should i open the door, and woo’s like yeah. i feel like this is important because i think it highlights who’s dominate in the relationship emotionally/mentally. anyhow..

yun has finally joined and this is where things get interesting. i’ll show you what i think may often lead to woosan fighting and i’ll tell you now it has a lot to do with woo constantly provoking him. lol.

as they’re playing a game there’s a part later where san is talking about hongjoong’s choreography part in “Promise” that resembles something what thanos does with planets. 

and woo..

WOO...

ya boi is apparently in so much disbelief that he spits out his drink dramatically as fuck. 

lmfao. look at san’s face.

i don’t think you heard me the first time, i said look at san’s face.

san’s like, btch don’t laugh, and woo’s like, btch don’t lie, and yun’s like i’m just enjoying the show.

i will also note that san often hits woo throughout this vlive, at some moments he also hits yun, but they’re playful and they are in no way forceful. they’re just the type of hits that you do with friends normally who may frustrate you nothing to be taken seriously. but i did think it was important to note, because woo does not ever retaliate(i believe this is because in this instance woo is the instigator/provoker), though he does push him back at san this instance though, i think it’s more because he’s like. “stop lying”.

as you can see san is still holding this pose, and he holds it for a few more seconds because he’s in a defensive position. he’s trying to defend his position that he isn’t lying.

anyway, they continue playing games, at this point they’re playing singing relay. let me just say. they nearly took 3-5 minutes to come up with a punishment because woo was not pleased with them. he wanted something new. even though they were coming up with the punishments. lmfao. this boi. 

anyway, they’ve(not woo) have finally decided on a punishment that woo agrees to go through with. lmfao. and they then decide who goes first and this is important because the game is easier for whoever goes first, because they start the game off, and the game tends to get harder as the words can become quite difficult. 

they decide by rock-paper-scissors and woo’s just like...

“i told you i’ll go first” and your boi san’s givin’ that death stare again. 

yunho then asks woo which way he wants to start(already knowing which way ‘cause look at this face).

woo of course says to start with himself.

see if you can spot the face of a man ready to plan your death and the face of a man who knows he’s a little shit. oh and ofc a man who’s just along for the ride.

san remember....control. 

as the game continues, san tries his harder to play the game, also note that they all agreed even if the word didn’t work if they found it to be funny they would let it pass. however, there were many instances that it didn’t work in san’s favor, this being one of them.

note that san was only looking at woo at this point, actually most of the time during the vlive and i think this is because it was his approval he was looking for. you can see woo slightly smiling, and i know it’s because he thinks san is cute, but no he gotta be difficult. 

‘cause that smile soon diminishes and apparently woo would have passed it if it was funny. lmfao.

he gets a flick on the forehead for a punishment. poor sannie. 

the game restarts, woo wins again at rock-paper-scissors and he...you guessed he’s starting with himself. 

san outright tells him he’s annoying. lmfao. i’m dead. woo knows it too look at his face, and again yun’s just there to be chaotic along with woo. i think it’s important to note that at this point, i believe yun was siding with woo, why? i’m not entirely sure. but he was definitely not helping san as woo provoked him. lmfao.

san then goes on to say:

which i get, poor sannie’s getting punished left and right. also for those of you that do not know. the punishment is to bring all your pillows to woo’s room, or to sleep pillowless or get flicked in the forehead. 

yun and woo then goes on to say “we’re not attacking you” we thought it was easy. lol.

however, woo is not entirely cruel so he passes san because he said something funny. 

yun is just like okay, just here for the ride bro. according to woo, at least one person has to laugh.

we’re 46 mins in this hour and sixteen min long vlive and everything’s going well, no one’s messing up and woo’s like...

san is not too good at this game, he ends up not coming up with an answer again in time. and gets flicked again. lol. poor baby. 

a few mins later he gets flicked again. lmfao.

okay, now it’s woo’s turn again and he feels like being a little shit again as you can probably can see from this face and san knows what’s coming. 

oh he knows what’s coming, look at that face. lmfao. basically, woo is asking what yun said to make a word that he knows will be difficult for san to get. 

in case you’re wondering what’s going on inside san’s head. “ah shit, here we go again.”

let me just tell you that woo didn’t even give yun a second to answer whether of not he said it. he was just like, THE WORD IS ‘HE’ SAN. look at his face. lmfao. 

look at these lil shits, yun and woo just laughing at poor baby sannie. lmfao. 

eventually sannie comes up with a song for the word and woo’s like, I ALREADY DID THAT. lmfao. he doesn’t give give him a break.

the argument continues and i think san is looking at yun to help him, but yun is just like....

so woo makes the decision on his own and is like, TIME TO GET PUNISHED and is ready to play rock-paper-scissors with yun to see who gets to flick poor baby sannies swollen head again. 

just look at his face, and look at san’s. lmfao.

san was like fuck that, not this time and pushed both of their hands down to stop them. 

there are some people that enjoy watching the world burn and seeing you suffer. 

they then decide to turn to the fans and ask them if they’ve done it, which according to them they have. haha. so san ends up getting flicked again and makes the cutest sound. fuijefnuwejifewife.

they do it again to decide whether he sleeps with the pillows or not i guess.

and san’s had enough and hits woo while shouting how annoyed his is. lmfao.

woo of course feigns confusion. 

yun is at the back like you know why. 

but of course, you know they both make fun of san for being annoyed.

san then literally yeets his covers at woo.

woo enjoying every second of torturing san. 

they continue the game, san loses again, they discuss the punishments again and woo is absolutely ecstatic about the punishments. lmfao. 

if you watch the vlive you can hear how aggressively woo says this. lmfao.

san is just like, why are you doing this to me?

they’re about to play rock-paper-scissors again, but san wants to change the item, but woo’s like. nahhh. dun wanna.

san’s just like..

“this is too hard” but woo’s like, “not too hard”.

woo being the regina george of the group decides to try to play rock-paper-scissors again, but san stops him again saying it’s too hard. 

as you can see woo is not the only one enjoying teasing san. lmfao.

despite all of that woo decides that they play rps again anyway. 

and of course san hits woo again, but yun’s hand is in the way.

so he uses his other fist.

what a cutie. woo and yun are enjoying this too much. lmfao.

IT’S WOO’S TURN AGAIN AND GUESS WHAT HE’S GONNA DO WHAT HE DOES BEST. PROVOKE TF OUT OF SAN.

san already sees it coming. i’m ded y’all look at his face.

you can’t tell me woo doesn’t know what he’s doing.

HAHAHA

HAHAHA

woo being chaotic and tryna get yun involved. 

woo got smacked again(too fast to ss), but you can tell he’s enjoying it. lmfao.

his laugh was so purely chaotic and adorable after getting smacked by san. 

they play rps again to decide who goes first, of course woo picks himself. and woo decides to poke the shit out of woo this time. 

woo loves this shit. 

oh hi yun. 

poor sannie. 

but you see woo isn’t done yet, he’s got other plans for san.

inside yun’s brain: whatever it is i’m in.

san rises back up and asks if woo’s fuckery is real and he’s just like yup.

he then yeets the blanket again at woo, yelling at him to go easy on him.

yun being woo’s partner in crime asks if san is mad at a game? you made bro. why you mad it’s just a game. LOL.

san’s like...no.

later san gets upset again as he yells at them for planning things against his favor and yeets his blanket again at woo. 

san wins which doesn’t happen often in the game and he chooses a hard word, and they immediately start telling him he isn’t playing nice. lmfao.

are you not convinced when i tell you that woo absolutely loves provoking san?

well as the game continues they’re still teasing san, and making the game harder for him and not laughing at his jokes. 

he tells them that he didn’t laugh or find them funny so it shouldn’t be passed, but woo said he found it funny and this is his face while this is san’s. 

we love a chaotic duo.

woo’s face says it all, but just in case you can’t tell what he’s thinking. 

woo: are you pissed? yun: san is mad.

san says no.

but woo says:

woo says this himself. lmfao.

they continue playing the game and i suppose woo was trying to side with san for a short period of time as he claims to not be laughing at yun’s jokes, but san’s like, “you’re doing this to make me feel better”.

but then woo’s like

yeah, san’s doing that to you woo. lmfao. he kills me. 

for some reason yun felt the need to jump in. poor san. 

mean girls ateez ed.

SAN BEING THE ANGEL HE IS AFTER YUN LOST HE GAVE HIM A SOFT ASS FLICK TO THE HEAD EVEN AFTER WOO HAD FLICKED HIS HEAD SOFTLY BEFORE WITHOUT SAN KNOWING. 

he was such a proud baby. but then they’re like. PABO PABO, and woo’s like i flicked him softly before. 

san’s mood switches and he spanks the shit out of yun’s ass. 

he attacks woo again with the blanket.

and woo’s feigning innocence again, like, “why you attac me bro?” 

they choose a different game to play, i am ground. sannie’s already losing. lmfao. 

at this time jongho suddenly wakes up or at least decides to speak. 

SAN STARTS GOING OFF ON HIM. 

like where is the confidence when going up against yunwoo. being the maknae is hard. lmfao. anyhow. this post was about how i think most of their fighting irl has a lot to do with woo being demanding/provocative while gaslighting san. now i’m not trying to make woo seem like a villain, because i don’t think he is. he is a very kind person, but i do think he enjoys teasing and provoking san a lot to get a reaction out of him. san has said that they argue often and woo upsets him often but they love each other very much.

this is tote normal behavior between friends so don’t freak out.

whether it’s skinship with others or teaming up against him. lol. anyhow this was a much longer post than intended. xD

but thanks for listening, support ateez. out babies.

[zayray030]

Unlucky Things, Become the Best Things

Summary: Iris contemplates her life as she holds her goddaughter, named Moira Anaya Queen Harper, and how everything led to this moment. And honestly she wouldn't change it for the world.

A/N: First actual story so be nice please. This will most likely be a really long one-shot, so buckle up. Please Like, reblog and comment.

Iris really wanted to escape the current situation she was in. The ‘situation’ was having a bunch of creepy middle aged men cornering her into some alley trying to sweet talk her into going home with them. Now, normally, she would have fought back, but currently she was drunk off her ass in Starling city trying to get a lead on the Hood to get some brownie points for her journalism class. At this point though, no story was worth this.

“Please leave me alone” she tried to say. She would not resort to begging. She was a middle classed black woman and she would have her respect. She now understands why her dad always made her carry a gun with her at all times. Oh, what she would do just to be between her father and Barry again.

“Come on sweetheart. Just one night. Bet we can make a girl like you feel good” said one of the guys mockingly making the rest burst out in loud laughter as well. She wanted to punch him really badly but she knew that the chances of her actually winning were slim to none, especially considering her current state.

“No thank you, I'm good. I don't need anyone making me feel good.” she replied. And also just because when she was drunk she had no filter “I also doubt the likes of you could make me feel good anyway.” Sometimes she just hated the fact that she was one of those people who didn't have a filter when they were drunk.

“Now come on, don't be like that. As if anyone would want to come near a filthy -” whatever he was going to call her was cut off by the arrival of a boy in a red hoodie slamming into him.

“Didn't you hear the girl. She said no” he sounded pissed and if Iris was less drunk she would have swooned. However she was drunk and all she wanted was a hug from her best friend telling her that she was beautiful.

“And what are you going to do laddie?” asked one of the goons leering into him making Iris want to puke up whatever meal she had at the hotel she was staying in. She didn't exactly have it in her to remember what she ate.

“This.” he said before taking out a knife and that's when all hell broke loose.

*

In the morning Iris woke up covered in a blanket on a couch and the smell of eggs cooking and a boy humming. She also woke up to a killer hangover but that's to be expected. However the part where there is a boy humming isn't and she would be disturbed at the second part if she didn't feel her clothes from last night, that consisted of a small black dress, fishnet tights and a pair of heels on her body. Still she kept her guard up.

“So sleeping beauty awakes?” he asked sarcastically when he saw her awake. She remembered him from the boy who saved her last night and if he wasn't that guy and if she wasn't such a nice person, she would have given a full lashing. Only fair considering she has to wake up to a killer hangover.

“Bitch, I'm a queen and I'll wake up whenever I feel like it.” she snapped at him. Iris felt slightly guilty but sue her. She woke up from a killer hangover on a strangers couch and the only thing she remembers from last night were the creeps from last night and that's not exactly something pleasant to remember.

“Well, it looks like someone is not a morning person. I'm hurt. I would have thought you would spare me considering I saved you.” he commented lightly, not really taking offence to what she said. He seemed mostly amused if anything and Iris was not in the mood. Saviour or not, she was hungry and pissed as well as lost.

“ You wake up with a killer hangover, starving, scared and in someone else's house and I'll like to see you be a morning person.” she snarked back. No one was going to make this morning more insufferable than it was. She idly wondered what Barry was doing this morning and if he missed her.

“Fair enough. But still, don't I get a thank you for saving your life.” he replied, unruffled by her rudeness. She wanted to smack him. She hates morning people. Except for Barry, because he's Barry. Not like that meant anything.

“I'll thank you by not kicking your ass into next week if you don't give me those eggs.” she snapped. And then looked down suddenly feeling guilty. She should be nicer to him. She shouldn't be this rude.

The boy must have noticed her bashfulness. He didn't comment on it, instead handing a tray with eggs and toast along with coffee.

“Feisty. So where was that spirit last night?” he asked. Owch. Low blow.

“Drunk of its ass. What's your name, by the way.” she asked. She needed a name. Their first meeting might have been unconventional and their second isn't going any better, but she will get the guys name.

“Understandable. Next time however, if it decides to get drunk off its ass, drink somewhere safe and bring someone you trust along. Also the name’s Roy. Roy Harper”

“Thank you for the advice Roy Harper. I'll be sure to remember that. And also, really. Thank you so much for saving me last night.”

“No sweat. A few bruises and cuts but U think it's worth it.” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. Oh yeah. The fight. How can she forget. She however found it odd that she didn't feel any pain anywhere else on her body. Last she remembers was a lot of blood and screaming. A lot of cursing as well and some crying.

“Why don't I…” she trailed off. The question was simple enough. Why doesn't she have any wounds?

“I protected you. You were crouched down too far for them to reach you. I just grabbed you and pushed you in front of me to make sure they wouldn't be able to get a clean shot. Must have done something right .” he said, like it was no big deal. However to Iris, this man saved both her life and a lecture from her dad on why she couldn't be a cop.

“Thank you.” she beamed at him. The tips of his ears were turning red and Iris couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. But suddenly she had an awakening that had her groaning against the mouthful of  eggs that she was eating. “Where's my purse!?” She knows she could have been nicer when asking but her purse had all her valuable stuff including a picture of her and Barry that her father took and she was not about to lose that.

“Don't worry sleeping beauty, it's right here.” said Roy handing her her purse “You might want to check your notifications quickly. Especially a voicemail from a guy called, Bear?” he seemed confused by the nickname but Iris didn't have the time to explain it to him at the moment.

Iris quickly took her purse, zipped it open and after rummaging in her purse she found her phone and she couldn't keep the quiet sob of relief to herself. Roy leaned back, looking slightly scared at the idea of having to comfort a female crying. Men. Well not Barry. He would listen and let her cry freely.

She quickly took out her phone and unlocked it entering the day that her and Barry had their imaginary wedding. When she opened it up there were a ton of messages from her dad and a ton more from Barry. She replied to Barry first knowing that he would report to her dad quicker than her father will report to him.

She tried to call him but it went to voicemail after a few rings. She quickly left him a message though “Hey Barry, I know I should have called you yesterday but I just felt really tired and wanted to go to sleep. Tell my dad that I'm coming back today or tomorrow depending on things. Also don't worry. Cop's daughter and all. I'll be able to handle myself.” Iris didn't know how she felt about lying to her best friend but she knew if she told him what actually happened he would tell her dad and her dad would enforce more ridiculously high rules in her. The sexism was unbelievable.

“Why did you lie to your boyfriend? Don't want him knowing that you're with another guy?” he asked teasingly. She didn't know whether she wanted to slap him or not. She settled on not and got right back to her aggs. After taking a bite and slowing it slowly she answered.

“A) He is not my boyfriend. B) Barry knows that I won't cheat on him so yeah I wouldn't lie to him about that.'' She was lucky sometimes that she was born with such dark skin. It concealed the blush she was feeling at the incredulous eyebrow raise that Roy directed at her. “C) The reason I lied was because if I told him the real reason on what happened he would tell my dad and my dad will enforce some more sexist rules to ‘protect’ me.” she couldn't help but put quotation marks on the word protect. It was more like keeping her in the dark.

“Ah, overprotective father I see

What else is he? A cop?” he asked sarcastically. However when she nodded he huffed out a breath but looked over at her again and smirked. “Ya know. For a cop's daughter, you're not that bad. Unless you're a cop yourself?” he asked. He seems blase about the whole thing but when Iris looked at his eyes, it held a small form of fear. She couldn't help but soften up to him. Not pity. But soften. Pity was disgusting. It's what people had when Barry told them that his mother died. It was what people had when she told them that her mother was gone.

“Nope. Tried though. My dad gave me the silent treatment until I changed.” she replied casually, but there was a small hint of hurt.

“Emotionally manipulative, overbearing and a cop for a father. Oof. You drew the short straw.” he fired back at her easily. Even though she knew it wasn't a jab at her, she still felt the need to protect her father.

“And yours?” Immediately she felt bad. He curled in slightly in on himself. “Shit, should not have said that. This morning just keeps getting better and better doesn't it.” she groaned out flopping backwards making sure that her empty tray was on the coffee table before flopping back on the couch.

“It's okay. People have done it in more dickish times. Plus, I fired that first shot.”

He reassured her. He then seemed to have made an ultimate discovery because he quickly opened his mouth to add something back on. “Also, what's your name. Kinda didn't get it while you were eating your eggs.” he asked.

“Iris West.” Iris replied to him. She smiled slightly at him. She felt better. She had a full stomach but her headache was going to kill her.

“Well Iris.” he said as he got up “Do you want me to drop you at your hotel or are you spending time at a friend's?” he asked, walking to the kitchen area part of the place and sticking his head in a cabinet. He came back a few seconds later with a bottle of headache pills.

“Hotel.” she replied quickly taking the pills from him and drowning them with whatever was left of her coffee. “And if you wouldn't mind.” she added at the end. He seemed trustworthy. At least he hasn't asked for ‘repayment’ for saving her from the night before.

Suddenly there was the sound of the door opening and Iris quickly pulled the blanket all the way up from where it was on her lap.

“Hey Roy I was worried when you didn't show up at work and i-” began a thin, pretty brunette before she turned after dropping her bags down and stopped when her eyes landed on Iris.

“Thea, this is Iris. I-” Rou began but Iris cut him off. She wasn't going to be saved from being questioned by his girlfriend or whoever that was.

“I can introduce myself, bookaroo.” she said testily. She then turned to Thea, keeping one hand on the blanket, she extended the other to shake the other females hand. “Hi my name is Iris West. Some creeps didn't know what no meant so your boyfriend saved me. And I seriously admire your patience levels. I've been with him for like 10 minutes and I have had to restrain myself from slapping him numerous times.” she said sweetly. She heard Roy spluttering indignantly but her eyes were on Thea and when she laughed Iris let out a sigh of relief.

“Tell me about it. But someone has to to have the patience and he's lucky that I like him.” she sweetly said  joining Iris on the coach and instead of shaking her hand she hugged her. Iris returned it slightly surprised but she felt grateful nonetheless at the sweet gesture. Maybe this morning wasn't all that bad.

“Thea!” Roy whined at his girlfriend. He pouted when all she did was giggle at him and send him a smirk.

“Anyway, you look like you need a quick wash, a shower and some new clothes.” said Thea. Iris felt like that she should be insulted but she felt grateful that Thea understood what she needed at the moment. She felt too mortified to actually say anything. “You're lucky I went shopping this morning before coming back. I think I might have a hoodie and some shorts you can tie up with a belt. However with you I think the hoodies might actually be long enough for you not to need that.”

“You're an angel sent from heaven Thea.” Iris said to the girl leaning on to her, her headache disappearing slowly.

“You're welcome. Do your parents-”

“Her dad's sexist and overbearing and I don't know about her mother.” replied Roy for her. She felt grateful. She didn't really want to talk about her father. “And her boyfriend will tell her dad.” he said at the end and Iris felt the urge to hit him again.

“I told you he isn't-” she tried to reply but he cut her off again.

“Sure. He's just your friend.” said Roy.

“What? Can't women and men be friends?” Thea demanded coming to her aid. She felt truly grateful for her right now.

“Sure, they can , but leaving I love you at their voice mails ain't exactly platonic Thea. Especially if said guy is someone who is going to tell you father about something. Especially if you call them first.” he said, trying to placate his girlfriend.

Thea looked down where Iris was in her arms raising her eyebrows for confirmation. When Iris nodded Thea directed the smirk at her but Iris cut her off before she began.

“We can talk about my love life when I'm showered, dressed in comfortable clothes, I've taken my stuff from my hotel room and invited you two to coffee at Jitters in Central City.” said Iris lifting her head up and Thea released her hold on the girl and helped her steady herself to make sure she didn't collapse.

“Of course. Roy, she's using your shower.”

Roy looked like he wanted to argue but thought better of it at the last minute instead taking in Iris's rumpled appearance and deciding that she needed the shower. “Sure.” he said.

“Great. Let me grab my bags and then we'll see what we can work with.” Iris would have protested at the clothes normally but she was confused. What store was open at this hour?

“What store is open at this time?”

Thea and Roy both turned to Iris, Thea looking worried and Roy wary.

“Iris it's noon.”

“WHAT!?!”

*

With Iris showered and changed into a comfortable hoodie and some silk pajama pants and her heels from last night, that Thea spent some time admiring, they all got out of Roy's home.

“So where's your hotel? ” asked Thea as they got into a limo. Another thing that Iris found out was that Thea was Thea Queen. Normally she would have fangirled but she realised that the tabloids were all wrong about Thea. Thea was cool and sweet. And Iris finding out that her boyfriend was Roy, whose an idiot in his own right, made her more normal. Iris realised that's what Thea wants, so she doesn't make a big deal out of it.

“Star Hotel” she replied as she got into the limo, facing Thea and Roy.

“So what brings you from Central City to here?” asked Roy.

“I was trying to get some extra credit for my journalism class by doing something for the Hood.”

“Iris! That's ridiculously dangerous!” scolded Thea gently. Iris would have felt slightly ashamed if it wasn't for the fact that Thea was in Roy's lap and that kinda ruined the effect.

“I know. I'm just trying to prove to both him and Barry that I don't need to be constantly followed everywhere.” replied Iris.

“Oh.” Thea seemed much more sympathetic to her now. “That I could understand. My mother forced my brother to get a body guard and I'm kinda shocked that she didn't do the same for me” said Thea slightly cuddling into Roy. Roy had a small blush on his cheeks from the sweet affection. So, a big guy gets shy with sweet affection? Huh. Cute.

“Poor guy. I can't imagine being a grown man and having someone follow you around constantly” said Iris feeling slightly empathetic to Oliver Queen. She might have swooned about him and demanded every detail about him from Thea any other day or time, but Iris guest that she already got shit like that from other people and she wasn't about to become like those people.

“You know something about that?” asked Roy, raising an eyebrow at Iris trying to cover the red on his cheeks.

“My dad tries to do the same thing to me all the time. All it takes is for me to threaten to move her for him to leave me alone. Although I'm slightly wondering whether I should move to Metropolis instead. It's more sunny there.” said Iris teasingly.

“Starling has its own own charm to it.” replied Roy back, passionate about his city.

“Okay you two, let's get along. And Roy, Iris got attacked last night. Do you really think she would like it after that?” asked Thea, trying to diffuse the situation.

“You shouldn't judge something based on one thing.” replied Roy sounding slightly embarrassed hiding his face in the crook of her neck.

Thea immediately softened and ran her hand through his hair. Clearly that has its own story to it. One that Iris is going to find out one day.

“I can't believe my afternoon is consisting of me being the third wheel.” Iris had to cut into the moment as cute as it was. They were at  the hotel that she was staying in and she quickly needed to catch her train to Central.

Roy blushed a magnificent red colour and Thea just smirked at her.

Part 2

Part 3

[brisfanfictions]

Chapter Two: A Jealous Landon & the End of the SXSW Awards [JSE]

Once Rose and Seán got on the elevator, Landon hurried to get on the same one. He could see a bunch of people, probably game designers and producers, climb into the same elevator. He ducked down and followed them inside. Just so he could keep an eye on the green haired man. With a very Irish cap on his head.

“Are you going to make an ‘Open Your Gifts’ video again?” She politely asked the Irish man. She wanted to hear his accent all the more. Since she always heard her aunt and uncle’s accents all the time. She would never grow old of hearing the Irish man’s accents.

“Probably,” Seán answered. He glanced down at the blonde woman next to him and smiled. “I’d probably open yer gift for last because of how big it is.”

She giggled in an innocent way. She hoped that he’d show off her painting in a video. “I’m sure you’ll love it,” she eagerly told him. “Because I’ve been working on it since I was sixteen and still painting in high school.” She looked so proud of her work.

His eyes widened, though. He could have sworn that she was sixteen.

“How ol’ are ya, if I may ask?” He softly questioned her. Glancing down again at her in curiosity.

She giggled again and answered, “I’m twenty now, I’ll be twenty-one in August. I’ve been subscribed since I was sixteen and watching your channel grow. As well as all your videos. You’ve saved me more times than I can count on my fingers.” She had the most innocent smile ever. As if she never went through any horrible childhood.

“An’ how did I save ya?” He softly asked.

The elevator PINGed to signal that the were on the fourth floor and most people got off on that floor. Once the people were off, him and her stayed on. Not knowing that Landon was still following them.

“Well,” she said, thinking about where to begin. “My father is Irish and my mother was American. My father ran off when I was just an embryo in my mother’s womb. And my mother was an alcoholic and clinically depressed. After I was born, my mother never took great care of me. It was usually a woman across the hall that took care of me.

“My mother died after I was just five, so I don’t remember her that much.

“My aunt and uncle, then, flew out from Ireland to take care of me.

“Sometimes I have nightmares surrounding my father and mother. They all vary too. Most of them consist of finding my mom dead on the floor. With blood gushing from her wrists.”

Her face went from happy to sad during her story.

“Every day, I wonder if it’s my fault my mom killed herself… If I hadn’t been born, then she would still be alive.”

Seán swiftly gave her a reassuring hug.

“It’s not yer fault that yer mother committed suicide,” he softly said. “Ya are an amazing young laddy. That male fella is a lucky lad.”

She hugged him back, looking confused.

“What ‘fella’?” She asked. Not sure what he’s talking about.

“That brunet male that you came here with,” he clarified. He pulled away to look her in the eyes.

“Oh!” She said, knowing exactly who he’s talking about. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my best friend.” She had a giggle fit, too.

Landon winced upon hearing her giggles at Seán’s assumption. After setting him straight.

“Sooo,” the green haired male said, coughing a bit to hide his embarrassment.

She has a wonderful laugh. Probably broke many hearts with her innocence and her obliviousness.

He continued to hug her for comfort.

Landon was shocked that she even had nightmares. That was something that she’s never told him. And he felt betrayed. Since she told that Irish bastard her nightmares than him. Her best friend.

The elevator PINGed again.

“This is my floor,” Seán softly told her. He had released her, grabbing a part of the painting to help her with carrying it. He was raised to be a gentleman afterall.

Rose accepted his help with a huge smile. Her eyes sparkling in excitement and pure joy. She grabbed the other end and hurried on out behind him. She got a weird feeling of being watched, but brushed it off.

He continued walking, looking at the different room numbers. Obviously searching for his own room.

Once he found it, he gently set the painting on the ground. He pulled out his room key from his pocket and unlocked the door to 608. He picked his side of the painting up again. Then he gently guided her and her precious painting inside. After he put it down, he placed his rolling luggage on the bed.

He was feeling guilty for not telling his fans what’s going on with him and his girlfriend.

Landon had hurried off the elevator to catch up with them. However, he arrived a bit too late because Rose had already gotten inside the same room as Seán. He quietly swore out loud and waited, behind a large ficus tree in the middle of the hall.

When Rose entered the room, she was absolutely amazed at the entrance of the room. She put her painting down on the red couch to look around. He helped lean the unknown, to him, painting against the couch. Excited to see her art skills. It looked as if it was an apartment for one. There was a coffee table, a small desk with a wooden wheelie chair and a bed behind a wall. The bathroom was in a small crevice of the whole room. The floor is carpet up until the beginning of one wall. Then it turns into hardwood flooring that leads to the bathroom.

After she had her fill of looking around the room, she made sure that the painting part is towards them. She grabbed two parts of the blanket.

“Rosalie Ashlen Watson proudly presents,” she jokingly said in an announcer-like voice. Then she pulled the sheet off to reveal the masterpiece underneath. “Seán, Sam, and his beautiful Korean girlfriend.”

She had her arms in a “Ta-DA” fashion.

He saw and thought it was absolutely gorgeous. However, it made him depressed.

“Do you have a YouTube channel?” He asked her. Out of curiosity.

“I have two, actually,” she told him. “One is gaming and the other is for vlogs and drawing tutorials.”

He had pulled out his phone to make a quick vlog. To spill the beans to her and his subscribers.

“Want to make a vlog together?” He asked. “Then we can swap cell numbers and Skype contacts.”

“I’d love that,” she eagerly said. “Then I can make one for my channel.”

“Cool,” he said. He unlocked his big iPhone 12 Max and went to the camera option. He moved the bar options to the left for the video one. Then he clicked the red circle to start recording. He made sure that the painting and Rose was out of the shot.

“Top a the mornin’ to ya laddie,” Seán said, high fiving the camera. “My name is jacksepticeye. And I’m doing a vlog. I already have the videos done for my ‘trip’.” He made quotation marks. “But, this is a special kind of video.

“One of my friends has made something for me. However, I’m sure some of you have noticed that… I haven’t been… In the greatest of moods.”

He started to walk around his hotel room. Using his hand gestures that he makes during his vlogs.

“The reason is because my girlfriend, Signe, or Wiishu, broke up with me a week ago.”

He looked back at the camera. Visibly looking as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

“Moving on from the bad news,” he said with a smile. “The friend that I have with this very moment. They are my new friend that I have met today while I’m in Austin, Texas. She made me a beautiful painting of me, Septiceye Sam and my ex-girlfriend. When I get back to Ireland, I’m going to hang it up in my recording area.”

Then he began to look dramatic.

“Now,” he said. Echoing as if he’s in a cave. “Presenting… My new friend… ROSE!” Then he yelled her name at the top of his lungs.

She came into the shot, laughing at the way he introduced her.

“Hey, guys!” She excitedly told his viewers; his friends. “My name is Rosalie Watson. I’m a very small YouTuber, but I’m working my way up through the ranks. I have two channels. One is my vlogging, ‘how to draw’ tutorials and time-lapse videos of a subject that someone wanted me to do. I do have drawing requests open every day on my Twitch account. My other channel is my gaming channel. I play video games every day. So you get two videos every day on two different channels.

“So I post a video on each channel every day. Even I had to plan some videos ahead.

“Not for my vlogging, of course. Don’t really need to do that.” She cutely giggled at that.

“Check out my vlog channel, Rosalie Watson, and my gaming channel, alwaysathorninmyside, for more details.”

She looked over to Seán to finish up this video. She planned to do his outro with him.

“That does it for this video,” Seán said, watching Rose follow along and repeat his words. He had the most joyful expression on his face. “If you liked it, PUNCH that like button in the face LIKE A BOSS! Aaand high fives all around. But, thank you guys and I will see all you dudes… IN THE NEXT VIDEOOO!”

“Later, guys,” Rose commented, holding up a peace sign to the camera in a fare well.

Seán ended the video, looking towards her.

She smiled, pulling her own phone out to record a similar video. Her phone was, also, an iPhone. But, hers was an iPhone 7.

“Hey, guys,” she greeted the camera with a smile. She made sure that Seán was out of camera shot. “As you guys might have known, my favorite YouTuber is jacksepticeye. If you haven’t been following my gaming channel, that is. And you guys, probably, know that I was on my way to Texas to go to the SXSW Gaming Awards. Last time I vlogged was yesterday, while I was on my way there.

“Well, I’m here now. I saw Seán in the lobby and hugged him.”

She got close to the camera to whisper, “he’s the best hugger I’ve ever hugged.” She laughed, smiling warmly at her audience.

“Anyways, I’m here with him now.”

Seán knelt down a bit to look into the camera. Since Rose was shorter than him by nine inches.

“Top a the mornin’ to ya laddies,” he greeted, smiling at her own audience. “My name is jacksepticeye.”

She giggled, lightly poking Seán. Then she turned back to her viewers.

“Seán and I are going to talk some more about gaming collaborations and, hopefully, do challenges together. Even streaming for charity events is an option.

“Ready?” She asked, turning to him. She wanted him to do part of his outro.

“Where do you want me to start?” He asked. Getting the idea that she wanted him to finish the video.

“Start from ‘thank you’,” she answered, giggling some more. She was ecstatic to do the outro with him on her channel this time.

He turned to the camera, rolling his eyes. Then he began.

“Thank you guys sooo much for watching this video and Rose will see all you dudes… IN THE NEXT VIDEOOO!”

“Peace out, guys,” she said, laughing when Seán changed it up.

Then she ended the video, going to upload the said video, uncut, on her YouTube app.

He was doing the same thing as her. He looked up both her channels and linked them at the bottom of his video as well as all his other social media.

Once he was finished uploading his video, he went to her gaming channel to watch her latest video. Which was the Sims 4 game.

“What’s new, guys?” She asked her audience with an angelic smile. “I’m playing, if you haven’t guess, the Sims 4! As you guys know, it’s my favorite game of all time. I love playing it.

“Today, I am going to flirt with Seán McLoughlin. And then fool around as well.

“With that said, let’s get started.” She, in the video, had the biggest smile.

Rose heard her own voice on the camera and blushed. She was embarrassed that he chose that specific video.

“Y-you don’t need t-to see that video,” she told him. In hopes that he would stop watching it.

He looks at her slightly red face. Then chuckled.

“Nonsense,” he responded. “If it has to do with me, then I deserve to see it.”

She blushed even darker and walked away. Mainly so that she didn’t have to hear her voice again. And watch him view her most embarrassing video. After all, it comes off that she is a complete stalker and she didn’t want that. She wanted to become Seán’s friend. She didn’t want him to think that she’s some psycho stalker of his. Even though she really isn’t.

--------------

“I hope to see you guys in the next video,” Rose said her small little outro. She smiled sweetly and waved good bye as the screen faded to black.

“You must really have a crush on me,” Seán said with a playful smirk. He turned to her and finished uploading his extra video of the day.

“U-uh huh,” she commented, turning even darker. She had did her best to tune her own voice out from the video and just do her own thing. Even though she had nothing to do.

“Mister jacksepticeye,” someone said from the other side of the door. “You need to get ready for the awards in a half-hour.”

“T’ank you,” Seán said to the employee on the other side. “I’ll be right out.”

“I guess I have to get going,” she softly said. Her eyes said that she didn’t want to leave and that she wanted to spend some more time with him. However, she knew that this would be ending soon anyways. “Hopefully, I’ll see you after the award ceremony.”

She turned to leave the room.

“Wait a minute,” he said with a smile. “Stay here and I’ll get changed quickly. Then we can exchange numbers as well as Discord accounts. We can even check out the entire convention while we’re here together.”

“L-like a date?” She asked, blushing a really dark red at the idea. She hoped that it would be a date.

“Sure,” he shyly commented. He felt as if he could be happy with her. As if they were meant for each other. Even though he just met her.

“Awesome,” she eagerly said, gently pushing him towards his bedroom. “Go get ready. I’ll be waiting here for you.” And it was a promise.

===============

Previously

Next {COMING SOON}

[sinfulbrothers]

You got the letter I sent you a few weeks back.

I have to admit I didn't expect you wouldn't receive it, I had a demon drop it off to wherever the hell you were staying at.

I imagine it's a crappy motel with shitty TV stations, ones we used to stay at all the time when we were kids.

Remember when dad would get angry every-time he came back to the motel room and see we were up sleeping? Remember that?

He'll he'd probably still yell at us for being such fuck ups.

You can ignore my texts and calls as much as you want Dean.

But we both know you have to come home sometime.

I'm getting tired of this cat and mouse routine.

I hunt you down, you run off to god knows where and then I'm stuck trying to find you again.

But I have a feeling I won't be the cat for long.

-Sammy W.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Three more calls and four texts, he still hasn't picked up," The youngest winchester glanced over at the male across the table. Castiel sat there hands resting on the table looking over pictures from different traffic lights, cameras and whatever else he could find. "The son of a bitch thinks this is some sort of game. Anything, Cas?" He raised an eyebrow at the used to be Angel.

The male shook his head, "It is just the same old stuff, Sam. No clue of where Dean would be hiding out. The only person that knows where Dean is hiding would be Crowley. And he and I aren't on the best of terms.." He made quotations around the word 'terms' and 'best'. He still really wasn't the best at English. "Maybe we should wait until there is a police report on a Chevy Impala. On baby."

Sam shifted in his seat frowning, "Dean is smart enough to not get caught doing something illegal in baby. If there was a police report it would be at some bar or store. Like the gas station that was robbed." He slid his laptop over to the male, "Check out some things while I go on a run. There isn't much you need to know about computers." He smiled softly sliding his phone into his pocket, heading out to his '65 mustang, light blue. A beautiful car. He jumped in and he was off to the nearest store.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A familiar '65 mustang pulled into the Save-A-Lot parking lot, he couldn't help but smirk. Seeing his big bulky dork of a brother climb out of the drivers seat. It was a wonder how he fit his big moose ass in there. The car was shorter than Sam was tall. He snorted sitting back in the drivers seat of the impala, hands on the steering wheel. "Here Sammy Sammy Sammy." He whispered whistling, pushing the drivers seat door open he climbed out. Cracking his knuckles following up behind his brother. Wrapping an arm around Sam's neck yanking him to the ground with inhuman strength.

"De--" Was all the young winchester got out before the lights went out for him. Dean lugged the tall male over to the impala, throwing him in the back seat among the other beer bottles and trash.

——————————————-

"Wakey, wakey, Sammy."

"You wanted your big bro back, well you got 'em."

"Sam."

"Sammy."

"SAMANTHA."

Sam's eyes shot open, his ears ringing, what the hell? A frown plastered on his lips as he tried to sit up, a force was holding him down. He heard it again, "Sammy." That was Dean's voice, what the hell was going on? Wasn't he supposed to be at the shopping center? "Aww look Sammy is confused again. How cute. Let's cut to the chase," The eldest winchester spoke up, his voice rough like a rocky road. He came walking out of the corner of the motel room swinging a baseball bat. Twirling it and throwing it in the air, only to catch it again. "You," He pointed the bat at Sam, poking his nose with it lightly. Sam pushed it away giving his demon brother a face.

"Need to stop looking for you. Yeah I caught the jiff." Sam stood up brushing his brown hair back out of his face.

Crack.

Dean swung the bat, smacking Sam right in the shin. For a second Dean swore the bat had snapped, then he realized it was Sam's shin.  "Sit down." He growled at his younger sibling. Sam obeyed. "Obey like the good dog you are. Isn't that right, Sammy?" He chuckled, gripping the baseball bat tight. "You either stop looking for me or I'll put you down right where you stand, got that? I won't hesitate to tear your pretty little head off with my teeth. Bet it'll taste real good. Have some actual freedom from all this hell around ya, Sammy." He winked at his brother.

"But Dea--"

Crack.

"Fuck! Stop hitting me with the damn bat!" Sam cursed loudly attempting to take the thing from Dean, it was a lousy attempt but at least he tried to do something. "I'll fucking stop looking for you. Just tell me one thing...why are you doing this? These crimes? The killings."

"The killings? Those are all angels. All 14 of 'em. Of course we aren't counting the humans, right?" Sam didn't even recognize his brother behind that wolffish grin. His gaze dropped to the floor shuddering in major discomfort. "Crowley sent a few demons to try to take me out. Not even the king can contain this beast."  Sam opened his mouth to speak, "Ahh except..you have a body behind your little adventure. The man you made sell his soul so you could find me. Naughty naughty sammy. Put him through that and he still gets killed, just sooner. Oh by the way...tell angel wings I said hi."

Dean swung the bat hard.

"Fucking Hell that's gonna leave a nice bruise."

———————————-

He awoke to a dog sniffing at his jeans and clawing at his jacket, attempting to locate anything edible on him. Or maybe it was getting ready to eat his face off. It didn't need to happen either way. Sam shoved the creature to the side earning a Yelp/Whimper from the creature as it bolted down the alleyway and out into the streets. An on coming car stated, 'Stupid animals! Should all be killed!' Speeding by the creature. People had no respect for these animals, or much of anything in that matter. He pushed up sitting up against the wall, yanking his phone out of his pocket, "Cas? Yea. I need a ride back to the bunker. Think I'm by the barber shop and the tattoo parlor east of the grocery store. Yep..it was Dean. No he didn't say anything about you. He did break my shin. Just..get here as soon as you can." He sighed shutting the phone tossing it across the alley way.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••>

"They have towed your car away," Was the first thing the used-to-be-Angel said to the male, helping him up to the car. "You will have to get it another time we need to get back to the bunker. There is something you need to see. It's important." Cas walked around the other side of the car jumping in the drivers seat, starting up the piece of crap he began driving off in the direction of home. But it wasn't home for Sam. Not without his brother. His brother was his home and would always be.

"So what's this thing and why is it so important?" He raised an eyebrow staring Castiel down.

The Angel sighed gripping the wheel loosely as he leaned back getting comfortable, "It's Dean. He was by the bunker while you were out. This was after I was told to look up things on the inter webs. The bunker door flew open and before I knew it I was on the floor. He took something from your room but I cannot figure out what." He sighed heavily, frowning immensely, "I was thinking it was some books...or maybe the tracker you had put on him.."

"The only thing in my room was papers and books, he would've had to taken some books. If not then..pictures? That wouldn't make any sense." He shook his head staring out the window, wincing. "We'll figure it out later. Right now I need to get my leg fixed up. Can't do anything on a broken bone."

"Alright. I will get the supplies while you stay put." Cas climbed out helping Sam down into the bunker, making sure he stayed sitting down before wandering off to gather some supplies.

Sam fiddled with the loose pieces of paper on the table, sliding them over the edge watching them float down to the floor. Something he would do as a kid, watch paper float down to the floor. It didn't sound fun and it wasn't. Sam chuckled remembering when Dean got angry when Sam would cover the motel room in paper. The crinkling noise always annoyed the shit out of Dean. He slid another paper across the wooden surface, catching it right before it fell.

'I sure enjoy your love letters, Sam. But has anyone told you you're not my type? Tall and lengthy isn't my thing. By the time you read this I'm sure I already broke one of your legs. Told you to leave me alone and then you're back here planning something again. As usual. For every time I catch glimpse of you I'll kill someone. Child, adult, elderly. I'll kill them. This is a warning. One slip up and someone is going ten feet under. Oh..I left a bit of a surprise under your pillow. Hope you enjoy it. It seems you need a girlfriend if you catch my drift little brother.'

He really didn't even want to know what Dean had left him under his pillow, probably some sex toy. He shuddered quickly shoving the paper into his pocket. "Find everything okay?" When Castiel nodded he smiled softly, sliding his pants leg up, hoisting his injured leg up onto the table. "I was thinking, maybe we can take a break for a bit. Let Dean cool off before we try to find him again. He seemed pretty pissed off. Sure the mark is the cause of that but Dean sort of always has his panties in a bunch."

The Angel simply nodded, "Okay." After that the room remained silent.

—————————————————

He had the right plan, all he needed was for Sam to take the bait. Hell he wished he would've stuck with killing people, been more fun and the police would've been involved. Sure they were a pain in the ass but still. He found it funny as hell to watch Sam struggle to get around the cops when they got suspicious of him asking "too" many questions. Whatever the hell that meant.

Dean brushed a hand through his ever so growing hair, sitting back in the bar stool. Sam had just found the the toy his older brother had left him. "Get a girlfriend," Dean scowled taking a long gulp of beer, spinning in his chair and sliding off. He pushed by a few customers walking out, climbing into his "baby" he drove off.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••>

Fool me once

Shame on you

Fool me twice

You're probably dead

He was correct about Sam, the man really was trying to locate him again like the crazed idiot he was. Damn. Dean threw the impala door open walking over to his brother gripping his shoulder tight, a faint crack starting. "Whatcha doing Sammy? Looking for me again? Did you not get my letter? Man I know I'm not good with the whole pen pals thing.." He sighed heavily cracking Sam upside the head, sending him stumbling into the side of the tow truck building. Sam felt a hand wrap around his throat, then black eyes meeting his. "You won't stop until I'm back, guessing that means I have to kill ya."

Sam's vision darkened as the grip on his throat tightened, then everything went black.

[cali-holland]

Tangled- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: You don’t recognize your childhood best friend after six years apart.

Word Count: 2500

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

~~~

2011

“I’m not that excited about leaving, mum. I’ve told you all of this before- I’ve got friends here.” You sighed as you helped her unload empty boxes from her car.

“Why don’t you go inside? I’ll move these.” She said and you nodded. Following her directions, you walked up your driveway to your door. You opened it and were stunned instantly.

“Surprise!” All of your friends cheered, standing inside your entryway.

“What-” You started in confusion, but your best friend cut you off.

“We couldn’t let you leave without a proper farewell party.” Tom stated, giving you a tight hug.

“You shouldn’t have.” You said, looking around at all of your other friends with a smile on your face.

The party was the most fun you had had in months. Ever since the news of you leaving London for Los Angeles was announced, solemness seemed to take over all of your hang outs. Tom was the last one to leave for the night, as usual. You two stood on your front porch talking under the light from the moon.

“I hope you like Los Angeles.” He said.

“Me too.” You replied.

“And you promise not to forget us- forget me?” Tom asked.

“How could I forget you? You’re my best friend, Tom, and you did all of this for me.”

“That’s the thing, Y/N.” He took a deep breath before continuing his thought, “I did all of this for you because I wanted to be more than that.”

“Really?” You asked.

“Yes. I know this is terrible timing and that we’re young, but, Y/N, I love you.” Tom said. You inhaled a sharp breath at his confession. Sure, you loved Tom, but it felt more like a platonic love than a romantic love. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Enjoy California, Y/N. I’ll miss you. Farewell.” He smiled at you, before he left your house forever.

You stood on your porch for another moment, taking in everything you had just heard. Your best friend confessed his true feelings for you and you stayed silent, letting him walk away from you forever. Sighing, you stepped back inside your house.

~~~

2017

“21 year-old Y/N Y/L/N stunned the D23 Expo red carpet as she promoted her latest work, Star Wars: The Last Jedi. In an interview with Extra, the Oscar winner discussed her excitement about the expo as well as her future films. When asked if she would portray the beloved Princess Rapunzel in Disney’s planned live-action film, the actress simply stated that she loved the character and would be open to play her. Do you think this rising star will be a good choice for the film? If so, who would you chose to be her Flynn Rider?”

“Can we shut this off?” You asked your hairstylist.

“Why? You don’t like watching media outlets talk about you?” She laughed, but doing as you had requested.

“Oh yes, I really enjoy watching them discuss ‘rumors’.” You said sarcastically, using quotation marks around rumors. Both you and your stylist knew you would be Rapunzel. You had landed the role right before the expo and Disney was keeping the news a secret, until they found their Flynn Rider. The casting team had finally gotten the list of possible actors down to nine and you were to do screen tests with them to see if they had any on-screen chemistry with you.

After going through eight of the actors and only somewhat liking one, you were exhausted.

“You can’t give up now. You’ve got one more.” Your manager said as you got some water.

“I know. I just hope this one isn’t as dry. I mean, they can all act and they all resemble Flynn in a way, but I just don’t feel like I could work with any of them for a few months. There was one, but even then I could imagine us being distant costars.” You replied and she rolled her eyes at you in a playful manner.

“Y/N, the last actor is here.” The director called for you. You headed back over to the new actor in the room.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I play Rapunzel.” You said, holding your hand out to him.

“I’m Tom, auditioning for Flynn.” He replied. As he shook your head, you felt him tense up.

“Don’t be nervous. You’ll do fine, Tom.” You stated, taking your seat in front of the camera.

“Right.” Tom said with a shaky voice as he sat down.

“And, action.” The director called.

“I know why you’re here, and I’m not afraid of you.” You said in a stern tone.

“What?” Tom asked in shock.

“I’m not afraid of you. How did you find me?” You questioned, sending him a faux intimidating look. He gulped, but didn’t reply as scripted. In an even more serious tone, you repeated it.

“I know not who you are nor how I cam eot find you but I may I just say,” He said in a sultry voice, before shifting to a more casual tone, “hi, how ya doin’? Name’s Flynn Rider. How’s your day going?”

“Who else knows my location, Flynn Rider?” You asked, unamused.

“Alright, Blondie-” He started.

“Rapunzel.”

“Gesundheit. Here’s the situation: I was galvanizing through the forest and I came across your tower and I-I- oh no, where is my satchel?” Tom asked, frantically.

“Somewhere you’ll never find it.” You answered smugly.

“It’s in that pot, isn’t it?”

“Cut!” The director said and the two of you stood from your seats.

“Good job, Tom.” You informed him, honestly enjoying his performance.

“Thank you. You too, Y/N.” Tom replied. You froze at his use of your name and he simply looked at you expectantly.

“Y/N-” Your manager called you over to her. She pulled you off to the side to discuss your schedule as the director spoke with Tom. Your eyes remained fixed on Tom as you tried desperately to place him, for you believed you had seen him before.

“Well done. I think you have a safe shot on getting this role.” You heard the director say.

“Really?” Tom asked in surprise and the director nodded.

“Alright, well, you best be going. Good work, Mr. Holland.” You jolted up immediately as you connected the dots. Your chair crashed to the ground and everyone looked at you, but your eyes remained fixed on Tom.

“Y/N, what is it?” Your manager asked, but you didn’t hear her as you made your way over to Tom.

“It’s you.” You said and he smiled.

“I was hoping you’d remember me.” He laughed lightly and you hugged him tightly in reply.

“I’m so sorry.” You pulled away from the hug and placed a hand on his cheek, “You look so different.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Tom asked.

“Good.” You replied, making both of you laugh.

“Y/N,” Your manager cleared her throat. You two returned to earth and pulled away from one another, “You two know each other?”

“Yeah, we were friends before I moved to L.A..” You explained. The director and the casting director gave each other a look and then silently nodded.

“Mr. Holland,” The director said.

“Yes?” He answered.

“You got the part.”

“You’re serious?” You asked in surprise as Tom stood silently shocked.

“Of course. You two have history together and your on-screen chemistry was fantastic- definitely the most convincing Flynn we’ve seen all day.”

“Thank you so much.” Tom said, shaking the director’s hand politely.

“You’re welcome.”

“Y/N, your interview.” Your manager reminded you.

“Oh right.” You nodded and then turned to Tom, “I have to go, but would you like to meet up later?” You asked and he raised his eyebrows at you in shock, so you clarified, “You know, to catch up?”

“Yeah, that sounds great.” Tom replied, taking out his phone and handing it to you. You did the same and the both of you put your numbers in the phone, before switching.

“Alright, well I’ll see you later.” You stated.

“Farewell, Y/N.” He answered, making you subconsciously blush. He left the room with a smile and you were rushed off to your interview, where you would confirm your involvement in the live-action version of Tangled.

~~~

In between breaks, you had set up a time with Tom for him to come over to your place in Beverly Hills. Right on time, he arrived and, a few moments later, the pizza replied.

“So, you left London and made it big in Hollywood?” Tom asked before he took a bite of his pizza. Tangled played on the TV in the background; the both of you decided to watch it together to better your understanding of the characters.

“It wasn’t intentional, but I found out that a lot of my friends at my high school were auditioning for this one role and I decided to try it out. It was the Fault in Our Stars and I somehow landed the role of Hazel Grace. I discovered that I actually loved doing it; it was fun, so I kept doing it. Now, I’m in Star Wars and I’m going to be a Disney princess.” You laughed with a shrug as if the outcome of your random idea was normal. “You were made for the spotlight- I wasn’t.”

“You were, you just didn’t plan on it like me.”

“Come on, Tom, you were Billy Elliot and I was that person in the crowd cheering you on.”

“Agree to disagree?” Tom suggested and you nodded with a laugh. “You really didn’t recognize me? You honestly had no idea I was famous?”

“Whoa, Tom, don’t sound too cocky there.” You teased.

“You know what I meant.”

“I knew that there was a new Spider-Man and that was it.” You said in all seriousness, “You know me, I’ve never been a fan of superhero movies. And I’ve been too busy with my career to see a Spider-Man ad and recognize it as my childhood best friend.”

“I feel like I should be offended by all of this.” He stated.

“If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t watched any Spider-Man movies, but I’d still say you’re the best one.”

“That’s it! After this movie, we’re watching Spider-Man.” Tom said.

“Which one?” You asked.

“All of them.”

“There’s like ten!”

“There’s only six, including mine.”

“I’m not watching six movies in a night.”

“Of course not in a night. Some will be in the early hours of the morning.” Tom laughed and you groaned.

“Fine, let me get comfortable on the couch.” You said, moving from the table to the couch with Tom following you. He sat down and you sat beside him with your head on his shoulder, just like old times.

You two remained like that for most of the movie. You did shift around to get more comfortable, but you still ended up with your head leaning on him, cozily snuggling up to him.

“You know you’re going to have to go through singing lessons, right?” You asked.

“Yeah. They made me sing for an audition and figured I was good enough to continue through the ranks and sing with you.” He replied as the lantern scene began.

“We should sing this, just because it’s the big duet.” You said.

“You really want me to?” He asked.

“You don’t have a choice.” You stated, making him chuckle. You begna to sing along with Rapunzel in the film, “All those days watching from the windows, all those years outside looking in, all that time never even knowing just how blind I’ve been,” You finished Rapunzel’s part and Tom took over for Flynn’s.

“All those days chasing down a daydream, all those years living in a blur, all that time never truly seeing things the way they were,”

You both finished off the song, and you smiled over at Tom.

“You’ve got a lovely voice.” He said.

“Thanks. You too.” You replied. His phone buzzed and he looked down at the text with a laugh, “What is it?”

“You remember Harrison Osterfield? My buddy from Brit school?” Tom asked and you nodded, vaguely remembering him, “He just texted me saying 'How’d your audition go? Did you meet Y/N? She’s Rapunzel- I can’t believe our friend is Rapunzel’.”

“Aw, so Harrison’s happy I’m a Disney princess now.” You laughed.

“Here, let me take a pic of you to send him. He’s gone piss himself.” Tom said, switching his phone to the camera setting. You smiled as he took a picture of you to send to Harrison.

“I’m glad you and Harrison are still friends.” You said, “I really missed both of you. I’m sorry, again, for not recognizing you.”

“Quit apologizing. If you hadn’t been on TV so much, I wouldn’t have recognized you.” Tom replied.

“You’ve watched my movies?” You asked.

“Who hasn’t seen Star Wars? And Harrison’s sister made him watch the Fault in Our Stars, so naturally he made me watch it with him.”

~~~

2019

“Are you ready?” Your driver asked you as he prepared to open his door.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” You replied and he nodded, stepping out of the car. He came around to your door and opened it for you. The screams increased in volume as you stepped out onto the red carpet. Your eyes stung already as flashes went off from every direction. You looked up down the carpet and saw Tom finishing up his photos. He smiled and waved at you, which you did back to him. You posed in front of the purple and pink background, reading Tangled in large gold letters.

“Y/N, is it true that you and Tom knew each other before filming?” An interviewer asked and you nodded.

“Yes, we were friends, but I moved away and then we ended up meeting again when he was cast as Flynn.” You explained. You were about to add more, but you were stopped when someone kissed your cheek. You turned to find Tom standing beside you with a large smirk on his face.

“You look beautiful.” He said.

“Tom, I’m trying to do an interview.” You laughed.

“What? I can’t admire my girlfriend?” Tom asked as if he had done nothing wrong and you playfully rolled your eyes at him. He kissed you properly on the lips this time. “I’ll see you inside, darling.” He took off towards the entrance to meet up with his family and Harrison.

“I’m so sorry about that. He’s clingy.” You joked, despite being flustered.

[thelastspeecher]

NaNoWriMo ‘17 Day 20 - Twinsitting

Day 01   Day 02   Day 03   Day 04   Day 05   Day 06   Day 07   Day 08 Day 09   Day 10   Day 11   Day 12   Day 13   Day 14   Day 15   Day 16 Day 17   Day 18   Day 19   Day 20   Day 21   Day 22   Day 23   Day 24 Day 25   Day 26   Day 27   Day 28   Day 29   Day 30

Did an old request for this prompt:

Summary: The older set of McGucket children watch the Banjo Twins. Word count: 1881

               “Ma, relax, we can handle the twins!” Harper said breezily, waving an airy hand.  Ma McGucket pursed her lips.

               “Harper, yer a grown adult, but I can’t get past what happened when ya were left in charge of Angie and Lute.”

               “That was years ago.  And anyways, Violynn and Basstian are here, too!” Harper said.  

               “Sally, it’ll be fine,” Pa McGucket said to his wife.  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders.  “Violynn’s got lil ones of her own, ‘member?  And Basstian is such a calmin’ presence ‘round the twins.  The older set can handle this.”

               “True,” Ma McGucket sighed.  “And they need to bond with the twins more.”

               “Exactly,” Violynn said.  “Seriously, the two of ya, go have a nice anniversary. ��We wouldn’t have volunteered to watch Banjo and Banjey if we couldn’t handle it.”

               “Fine.  But they need to be in bed by nine at the latest,” Ma McGucket said firmly.  “They’ve been havin’ nightmares lately, and the earlier they get to bed, the more sleep they get, even with wakin’ up from bad dreams.”

               “You got it,” Harper said.  “Have a good dinner!”  

               “Bye!” Violynn said.  She closed the door and leaned against it.  “Whew!  That took less convincin’ than I thought it would.  Only, what was it, ten, fifteen minutes?”

               “Somethin’ like that,” Harper said.  He took a breath.  “You ready to babysit our twin siblin’s?”

               “As ready as I’ll ever be.”  Violynn grimaced.  “It’s still a bit difficult, acceptin’ that they aren’t Stan ‘n Angie no more.”

               “I know,” Harper said softly.  He patted Violynn on the shoulder.  “Come on, sis.  Who knows what they’re doin’ to Basstian right now?”

               “That’s a fair point,” Violynn said, walking down the hall.  She and Harper arrived at the living room. Basstian was sitting in Pa McGucket’s favorite armchair, while Banjey sat on his shoulders and Banjo doodled on his arms with a marker he’d found somewhere.  “Uh-uh, kidlets, no drawin’ on people,” Violynn scolded.  She took the marker from Banjo.  Banjo scowled at her.  

               “Basstian said I could!” Banjo protested.

               “‘Lynn, I told him it was all right,” Basstian rumbled.  He took Banjey off his shoulders.  “I didn’t tell this one that she could use me as a jungle gym, though.”  Banjey beamed broadly at him.  “…Fine, you can climb all over me.  Can’t say no to that lil face.”  Basstian ruffled Banjey’s hair.  She giggled.  

               “Man, we could’ve gotten away with just you babysitting, huh?” Harper said. Banjo and Banjey stared at him.  “What?”

               “Yer babysittin’ us?” Banjo asked.

               “Yep.”

               “But Ma ‘n Pa ‘re still here.”

               “They just left,” Harper informed his baby brother.

               “What?” Banjo whimpered.  

               “Oh, boy,” Violynn muttered.

               “Ma ‘n Pa ‘re gone?” Banjey asked.  Harper nodded.  Banjey began to sniffle.

               “Whoa, hey, hey,” Harper said quickly, “there’s no need to get all upset! You’ve got yer three oldest siblin’s right here!”

               “What if we get n-n-nightmares again-n?” Banjey whined.

               “We’ll comfort ya,” Violynn said soothingly, stroking Banjey’s hair. Banjo shook his head.

               “No, ya won’t!  We know y’all don’t feel comfortable ‘round us!”

               “What?” Basstian asked.  Banjey climbed down from Basstian’s lap.

               “We’re five, not blind,” Banjey said shortly.  “We can tell.  The- the way ya avoid bein’-in’ alone with us, not talkin’ to us when ya can-can.” She sniffled again.  “Lute’s the on-on-only siblin’ what doesn’t get all weird ‘round-‘round us.”  Violynn and Harper exchanged a worried look.

               “Honey,” Violynn said.  She sat down on the floor next to Banjey.  “We ain’t like that no more.  We offered to watch the two of ya durin’ Ma ‘n Pa’s anniversary, ‘cause we want to get to know Banjo and Banjey better.”

               “Why should we believe you?” Banjo asked, jutting his chin out.  

               “‘Cause Violynn’s a cruddy liar,” Harper said.  Basstian chuckled.  

               “He’s right.  ‘Lynn can’t lie worth a darn.”  

               “…Fine,” Banjo said after a moment.  He looked at Banjey.  She nodded. “We won’t go out of our way to make things difficult on ya.”

               “That’s more ‘n I expected, to be honest,” Harper said.  He joined Violynn and Banjey on the floor.  “Now, what sort of food do the two of ya want to eat?”

               “I brought some ham steaks that Tim cooked up,” Violynn suggested.  Banjo and Banjey glared at her.  “What’s wrong?”

               “We’re not allowed to eat pork,” Banjo said.  He crossed his arms.  “‘Cause we’re half-Jewish.”

               “…What?” Harper said, scratching his head.  “Neither of ya are half-Jewish.”

               “Ma ‘n Pa didn’t want to erase my ‘cultural heritage’,” Banjo said, making quotation marks in the air.  “But it wouldn’t be fair to erase Angie’s, either, and since we’re twins now, it has to match. So they compromised.  Half-Jewish, Half-Catholic.”

               “Ma ‘n-‘n Pa ‘re bein’ firm ‘bout kosher foods,” Banjey said.  She laid down on the floor, facedown.  “I miss bacon.”

               “Me, too.  Even ‘fore I was half-Catholic, I ate bacon!” Banjo said.  “But Ma ‘n Pa don’t care.  They’re makin’ sure we follow the rules.  All of ‘em.”  He cocked his head at his older siblings.  “Y’all saw the menorah when ya visited fer the holidays. Did ya really not know?”

               “I assumed the menorah was just fer you, Banjo,” Harper said.  

               “Nope.  Both of us,” Banjey said, her voice muffled by the carpeting.  “And n-n-now we go to two kinds of services.”

               “Ma ‘n Pa found the two of ya a synagogue?” Violynn asked.  Banjo nodded.  “Wow.  They’re really goin’ out of their way fer this.”

               “I kn-know,” Banjey sighed, rolling over onto her back.  “I still miss bacon.”

               “Can’t blame ya,” Harper said.

               “Harper!” Violynn hissed.

               “What?” Harper asked.  Violynn shook her head.

               “Yer not s’pposed to tell ‘em somethin’ they can’t have is great.  That’s like tellin’ ‘em that it’s amazin’ to get wasted on moonshine.”

               “…Oh,” Harper mumbled.  An awkward silence fell.  Banjo resumed drawing on Basstian’s arms.  “So, uh, maybe, I dunno, pizza fer dinner?” Harper asked after a few minutes.

               “Yes!” Banjo and Banjey shouted together.  

               “Sounds like that’s the winner,” Basstian said.  “Go ahead and order fer all of us, Harper.”

               “What sort of toppin’s do folks want?” Harper asked, getting up.  

               “Surprise me,” Violynn said.  Basstian nodded.

               “Lil siblin’s?”

               “Dunno,” Banjey said with a shrug.

               “If they have more ‘n one kinda cheese, all the cheeses,” Banjo said.  Banjey nodded.

               “That sounds yummy.”

               “On it.”  Harper walked into the kitchen and took the phone off the hook.  As he dialed in the number for the pizza place in Gumption, he glanced out the window.  He froze. “Uh, Basstian, Violynn, come in here fer a minute?”

               “What’s goin’ on?” Violynn asked, walking into the kitchen, Basstian close behind her.

               “Look,” Harper hissed.  He pointed out the window over the sink.  Violynn gasped softly.

               “Is- is that a wolf?” she whispered.  

               “Looks like,” Basstian said in a low voice.  “Too big to be a coyote.”

               “What do we do?” Violynn asked.  Harper ran a hand through his hair.

               “I…don’t know.  I’ve never seen a wolf ‘fore.  ‘Cept fer the zoo, of course.”

               “How ‘bout we follow the rules of an aggressive coyote,” Basstian suggested. “Don’t make a fuss unless it gets close to the house or barn.”  There was scratching at the front door.  “…Violynn, take the twins to their room.  Harper, go check on that noise.  I’ll grab some shotguns.”  Violynn and Harper nodded, then ducked back into the living room.

               “Banjo, Banjey, we’re goin’ to move this lil shindig to yer bedroom, ‘kay?” Violynn said cheerfully.  Banjo and Banjey eyed her suspiciously.

               “Why?” Banjey asked.

               “Well, uh, ‘cause…”  Violynn trailed off.  A howl echoed through the house.  

               “The wolves ‘re back?” Banjo said.  He got up and began to walk to the front door.  Harper picked him up.  “Hey!”

               “Yer not gettin’ close to them wolves.”  Harper blinked.  “Wait, ‘back’?  They’ve been here before?”

               “Yeah,” Banjey said.  “I guess Ma ‘n Pa forgot to men-mention the werewolves.”

               “Werewolves?” Violynn and Harper said together.  Banjey nodded.

               “They like us, ‘cause we got ma-magic stink on us.  Or some-somethin’ like that.”

               “I thought Ma ‘n Pa set up the moonstone thingy, to keep ‘em away,” Banjo said.  “It worked before.”  Banjey shrugged.  “Last time there were werewolves, Lute shot at ‘em, and they scattered.”

               “Harper, where’s that gun?” Basstian shouted.  Harper blanched.  He dropped Banjo and ran toward’s Pa McGucket’s study.  

               “Get the silver bullets!” Banjey called after him.

               “Hon, I think they’re just normal wolves,” Violynn said.  Banjey shook her head.  

               “They went after me ‘n Ban-Banjo, but didn’t bite or scratch us. ‘Cause we wear blessed silver neck-necklaces.”  She showed the silver cross dangling from her neck.  There was a loud crash and the sound of breaking glass.  Basstian shouted.

               “All right, that’s it,” Violynn said firmly.  She grabbed Banjo and Banjey and dragged them down the hall, to their bedroom.  

               “Violynn!” Banjo and Banjey protested.  Violynn opened the bedroom door and shoved her younger siblings in, then closed the door.  Harper ran past her, carrying a shotgun.  He raced towards the front door.

               “Son of a-” Harper muttered, seeing Basstian grappling on the floor with a large wolf.  He took careful aim and fired.  The silver bullet hit the wolf soundly on its torso with a sizzling noise.  The wolf yelped and leapt outside.  It barked at the other wolves circling the house, then vanished into the night, followed by the rest of its pack.  Harper rushed to his brother’s side.  “Did it hurt ya?” Harper asked.

               “It was a big ole wolf, whattaya expect?” Basstian asked.  He sat up, wincing.  “Nothin’ so bad I’ll need stitches, though.  Just some bruisin’.”

               “I’ll be the judge of that,” Violynn said, joining her brothers by the front door.  She looked Basstian over with a careful eye.  “Okay, I don’t think we need to take ya to the ER.  But we’ll get ya cleaned up and you’ll want to keep track on the scratches, to make sure they don’t get infected.”

               “Basstian?” Banjey squeaked from a safe distance away.  She and Banjo had escaped from their room when Violynn stopped guarding it.

               “I’m fine, Banjey,” Basstian said.  He smiled at his little sister.  “Nothin’ hydrogen peroxide won’t fix.”

               “The door’s broken,” Banjo said softly.  Harper looked at the front door.  The wood was splintered, and the large glass pane in the center had been completely shattered by the wolf’s entry.  

               “Yeah,” Harper said.  He stifled a sigh.  “Really hope we don’t have to pay fer it.”  His stomach rumbled.  “Shoot, I never ordered the pizzas.”

               “Go ahead and do that,” Violynn said briskly.  “I’ll patch Basstian up.”  She looked at Banjo and Banjey.  “Kidlets, why don’t ya grab some colorin’ books, and relax in the kitchen while Harper orders food?”

               “Okay,” Banjey said quietly.  “Basstian, are- are ya really okay?”

               “I told ya, sugar-cube, I’m perfectly fine,” Basstian said reassuringly. She nodded hesitantly.

               “You didn’t get bitten, did ya?” Banjo asked.  “‘Cause they were werewolves.”

               “No bites.  Just scratches.”

               “Okay.  Good.” Banjo scratched behind his ear.  “But if ya get weird ‘round silver or like raw meat, you should talk to Ma ‘n Pa.  They’ll prob’ly be able to find a cure.”

               “We’re goin’ to have to talk to Ma ‘n Pa no matter what,” Violynn said. She sighed.  “The front door is busted.”

[lesbrarians]

Junkrat/Roadhog:: Origins Ch. 16

This is the penultimate chapter! The final chapter should be posted sometime on Monday night. I feel that I should warn you guys about this chapter, tho -- there is a scene that, while it is consensual, cannnn be read as dubcon so proceed with caution if that's something that disturbs you (I promise it turns out fine, if that helps)!

Title: Origins

Characters: Junkrat, Roadhog

Rating: R

Summary: The origins of Junkrat and Roadhog. Junkrat finds a mysterious treasure in the nuclear wasteland of the Australian Outback and quickly finds himself a target. When a hitman is sent to kill him, he convinces the man to become his personal bodyguard in exchange for half the spoils. Their ensuing crime spree could be legendary – if they can get over the initial bad blood between them. Can also be found on AO3 if you prefer reading it there!

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen

---

For the first time since arriving at prison, Junkrat felt at ease. Beginning work on his new bombs relaxed him. Home was where he could build explosives, after all.

He twisted off one of the metal fingers on his mechanical arm to expose the screwdriver beneath it. He’d added screwdriver heads to the last joints of his internal skeleton for added functionality, and it was proving incredibly useful when he was without his usual tools. He unscrewed the back of the radio and selected the wires that he would attach to one of his D batteries before screwing it back together. He went back to grinding the flammable powder off of the match heads. He’d converted the pipe into a container by fixing a scrap of blanket around one end with a piece of elastic from the wristband of his jumpsuit.

“Po-lice!” the block’s sentry shouted from his cell, and he hissed, stuffing his supplies in an empty cereal box. He really needed a better hiding spot, but hopefully he would be out of the joint before it became a necessity.

The footsteps of the correctional officer stopped outside his cell. “Fawkes! You’ve got a visitor.”

Confused, Junkrat turned to Thatcher, then pointed at his own chest. “What, me?”

“Who the fuck else? Is there anyone else by that name in this cell that I should know about? Hands out.”

The door to his cell slid open, and Junkrat dutifully let himself be shackled and led to the visiting room. It resembled a metal box, with a sheet of glass separating inmates from the visiting party. Ava was sitting at the desk that straddled both sides of the room. Junkrat sat down on his side and picked up the phone to speak with her through the glass.

“Doc? Why ya visitin’ me -- not that I’m complainin’, but I woulda thought you’d visit Roadhog first.”

“Yeah, I asked for him, but get this, they said I’m not on his list of approved visitors! I told them they could go stuff it, but they wouldn’t budge, so here I am.”

Junkrat blinked at her. “What, do they know the both of ya were in the Australian Liberation Front?”

Ava gave a delicate shrug. “Beats me. Either they have a bone to pick with him, or they know we have a shady history together and don’t want me seeing him. So I’m here to visit my good friend Junkrat instead! Thought you might want to talk to someone on the outside after, you know, losing everything you worked for.”

“Yeah, about that--” Junkrat started, then paused as Ava’s eyes darted upward. He followed her gaze to the security camera fixated on them. Ava tapped the side of her nose with her finger. Junkrat had no idea what the gesture signified. He carried on, being mindful of his words now that he realized that they were being recorded. “What they do with all my shit anyway?”

“Evidence, probably,” Ava said. “Last I heard, there was a big storage unit in their impound lot where they keep the big guns.”

“Impound lot?” Junkrat repeated. He’d never heard the term before in the Outback, but it sounded significant.

“Yeah, where they keep all the vehicles they confiscate from people like you.”

This got Junkrat’s attention. “So what, would Roadhog’s bike be there?”

“Probably.”

“So ya can’t take it then? Even though yer practically his next of kin and all.”

Ava’s eyes twinkled. “I would if I legally could, but the police wouldn’t like that. It doesn’t work that way and is, in fact, frowned upon in this establishment.”

Junkrat grinned at her through the glass barrier. “I see,” he said knowingly. If he was reading the room right, he had the impression that she would get it back for the two of them. “So if we were to ever get outta this shithole someday, we wouldn’t be able to get it back?”

“Probably not. But you’re in here for life, remember? I don’t think Judge Knowles would have mercy on you. So you’re just gonna have to get used to life on the inside without your bike. Sorry, pal.”

“Eh, I’ll get used to it. Maybe.”

They chatted idly about their life partners, both romantic and criminal, until the CO banged on the door and announced that their visitation time was almost up.

“So, when am I gonna see you again?” Ava propped her chin on her hand and winked. “Let’s talk plans.”

Junkrat considered the amount of time he needed to finish cobbling together his varied weapons. “Two weeks, maybe? Let’s aim for the thirtieth.”

“I’ll see you then.” Ava placed her hand on the glass, and Junkrat mirrored her. It was like they were shaking hands, sharing a secret plan.

It had been a good talk, but after the stress of trying to carefully communicate plans without being explicit, Junkrat needed a drink. The closest thing he had was coffee, so when he got back to his cell, he heated up some water in the microwave and made himself a mug of instant coffee, immediately followed by another, then one more for good measure. If he could finish the canister soon, he could make good use of it.

He was practically vibrating by the time their recreational hour rolled around. He’d had coffee maybe once or twice in his life, and he hadn’t realized how wonderful it was. Even this instant mess tasted delicious to him. Maybe when he got out, he’d get some real coffee from a real place. He’d heard flat whites were top notch.

He bolted out of the cell when the doors slid open, full of jittery energy. “Roadhog!” he shouted when he caught sight of him. “My tubby friend!” He slung an arm around Roadhog’s waist and poked his tattoo. For the first time, Roadhog actually didn’t hit him as a result, a fact which delighted him. “Mate, I’m fuckin’ wired, didya know coffee was so good? Y’ve been holdin’ out on me, I coulda been havin’ coffee at those fine dining establishments we went to on the outs!”

Roadhog looked down at him. “Who gave you coffee?”

Junkrat laughed and pointed at himself. “Me! I gave me coffee!”

“Can you also take it from you?”

“Now, why would I go and do a daft thing like that? I bought it, fair and square, I should get to drink it! I mean, I had to buy it, it woulda been suss if I just got the creamer by itself. Didya know you can set coffee creamer on fire? All that powdered fat? Massively flammable!”

“Lower your voice.” Roadhog shook his head. Junkrat continued nattering away about his grandiose plans until Roadhog finally interrupted, “How was Ava?”

Junkrat forced himself to stop grinning maniacally and sober up a little. “Good, best as I could tell. She wanted to see ya but they wouldn’t let her.”

Roadhog sighed. “I figured. They probably suspect she was my partner back in the day.”

Junkrat knew the term didn’t have to be romantic -- he’d quipped that his cellie was supposed to be his life partner -- but after hearing Ava refer to her wife as her partner, the phrasing piqued his curiosity. “What kinda partner?” he asked.

Roadhog tilted his head at him. “In crime,” he clarified, stating it as if it was perfectly obvious. “Neither of us could be interested in anything more.”

“Ah.” Junkrat considered the implications of this statement and found that he liked them. It made it easier for him to reconcile the thoughts he’d been having about his bodyguard. “Anyways, we talked about, ah, ‘plans...’” He crooked his fingers into quotation marks and elbowed Roadhog’s side. “In code!” he hastened to add when Roadhog’s chin jerked up.

“Neither of you are subtle people.” Roadhog groaned. “You are incapable of acting discreetly.”

“It’s fine, really! We were careful, cross me heart.”

“Recreation hour is over,” a tinny voice rang out through the loudspeaker above them. “All inmates return to your cell for count.”

“I’ll fish ya a note about dates,” Junkrat rushed to tell Roadhog before they had to separate. “The thirtieth, I’ll write it all down!”

Junkrat returned to his cell and stood next to Thatcher while the CO made his rounds to ensure everyone was accounted for.

The cell doors closed. The CO who did the count left the block. The moment the thick metal door clicked shut behind the officer, Thatcher jumped on Junkrat.

Warning bells flared in Junkrat’s mind, and he automatically shouted, “Roadho--” before Thatcher clapped a hand over his mouth and wrestled him to the ground.

“Junkrat?” Roadhog sounded concerned, and there was an ominous rattle of a cell door.

“Tell him you’re fine, or I will kill you right here, right now,” Thatcher hissed in Junkrat’s ear. The tip of a sharp piece of metal dug into his side, reinforcing the threat.

Junkrat swallowed. “S’nothin’,” he called out, forcing his voice to sound casual. “False alarm.”

Thatcher derisively patted his cheek, but it was more of a slap. “Good boy. Now… where the fuck is it?” he snarled, grabbing a fistful of Junkrat’s hair and shoving his face into the floor.

“Wh-- where’s what?” Junkrat gasped. For once, he wasn’t being flippant, the fact that he had stolen something valuable from his cellmate had already left his mind.

Thatcher yanked his head up and cracked it against the concrete floor, and he saw stars. “Don’t play dumb with me, you piece of shit -- the cigarettes! You’re the only one who knew where they were!”

“Oh-- oh shit, those things. Listen, listen mate, I got a good explanation for that.” Thatcher pulled his head up off the ground, and Junkrat cowered with a wince and covered his head in anticipation.

“Explain.”

Junkrat’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Okay, so I really needed some things from the workshop that I can’t get meself, for obvious reasons, so I had to pay for it. And I don’t have nothin’ worth those goods, but you did, and it was just sittin’ there unused, so...” Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a good explanation after all.

Thatcher’s grip on his hair tightened. “That’s it? That’s your good explanation?”

“I, uh, heh… retract that statement.”

Thatcher exhaled, nostrils flaring. “So here’s the way I see it,” he said, his level voice brimming with barely contained rage. “There’s two options. Either I kill you, or you get me my cigarettes back and I don’t pound you into a bloody pulp. Decisions, decisions. On the one hand, I get the satisfaction of snuffing out your worthless little thief life. On the other, I get my goddamn ciggies back.”

“Can I place a vote for the latter?” Junkrat tentatively suggested.

Thatcher pushed off of him with a violent shove. “One day,” he said ominously. “Get them back to me by tomorrow night, or you’re dead meat, Rat.”

Junkrat nodded furiously. “One day,” he echoed.

A note whipped under the door to their cell, attached to Roadhog’s fishing line. It presumably was Roadhog confirming that Junkrat was, in fact, fine, but he didn’t get a chance to read it and find out. Thatcher snapped it up before he could get to it and stuffed it in his mouth.

Junkrat watched as Thatcher chewed and swallowed, never taking his eyes off of him. He shivered. He’d eaten a lot of questionable things in his life, but he’d yet to taste paper.

He made a mental note never to fuck with Thatcher or his belongings again.

---

“Are you okay?” was the first thing Roadhog said the next day during their social hour.

“Yeah, yeah, m’fine,” Junkrat muttered, brushing away the concern. His eyes flitted around the room in search of Belmont; he only had one hour to retrieve the stolen cigarettes, and he couldn’t waste it talking to Roadhog, as much as he would’ve liked to. “Just a lil’ spat between cellies, nothin’ happened.”

Roadhog looked him up and down. “Well, you don’t look hurt,” he finally said.

“Toldya I was fine.” Junkrat finally spotted Belmont slipping into the shower area. “Listen, I’ll be back in a jiff, gotta go talk to this bloke for a sec.”

Junkrat made a beeline for the showers. Belmont was in the back of the room, running the shower at full blast and filling the room with steam that made sweat trickle down the back of Junkrat’s neck. The crinkled black pack was in his hand, and he tapped out one of the cigarettes.

Junkrat took a deep breath and sidled up to Belmont. "Hey, Belmont... y'know those durries I gave ya?” He nodded at the pack. “Y'haven't smoked 'em all yet, have ya?"

Belmont looked up at him. "Why you asking?"

Junkrat grimaced. "I'm gonna be needin' 'em back." He anxiously twisted the fabric of his jumpsuit while Belmont stared at him for several long, suspicious moments.

"A deal's a deal," he said. "I don't have any use for those pipes I gave you, so I'm not trading back, if that's what you're on about."

"Well, good, 'cause I wasn't plannin' on givin' back the pipes either."

Belmont narrowed his eyes at him. "Let me get this straight. You want the cigs back. But you're not willing to give me anything in exchange, not even a useless piece of pipe? Why the fuck should I make that deal?"

It was a good point. "Come on, I'll give ya somethin' if ya swap back, honest."

Belmont folded his arms across his chest. "What's on the table?"

Junkrat struggled to think of something that he was willing to part with that he wasn't planning on using as a weapon. "I've got some extra wires, I can rig ya up a lighter?"

The look Belmont gave him was positively contemptuous. "What fuckin' good is a lighter if I have no cigs to light up?"

Junkrat bit his lip. "Fair point. Whaddya want, then? Gimme some suggestions."

A slow smile spread across Belmont's face, and that should have been Junkrat's clue to back out before things got ugly. "I can think of one way you can pay me back."

"Yeah, sure, anything!" Junkrat said, relieved.

Belmont began unbuttoning his jumpsuit.

Oh, no.

“On your knees, Fawkes.”

“Junkrat.” He didn't know what it said about him that his first objection was to not being called the proper name, but his second objection was hot on its heels. “Wait, ya don't mean--”

“I mean, you talk too much, and I'm kindly requesting you put that big mouth to better use.”

Junkrat wet his lips, his brain rapidly cycling through his options. No matter how he swung it, it looked like it came down to the same thing: either give head or get his head bashed in by his cellmate. “Fine,” he finally agreed. “But I won’t be happy about it.”

“I don’t care whether you’re happy about it, I just care about you doing it. Like I said: on your knees.”

Junkrat grumbled, but he obeyed and knelt down in front of Belmont. He fumbled uncertainly with the jumpsuit before tentatively taking his head between his lips. He closed his eyes as he bobbed up and down. Maybe it would be better if he could imagine it was somebody else.

Junkrat held out his palm to request payment and was grateful when he felt the cigarette pack pressed into his hand. He was less pleased when Belmont gripped the back of his head and forced him down, keeping him from pulling away now that he had gotten what he wanted. Caught off guard, Junkrat gagged a little.

He was trying to relax when Belmont came, shooting down his throat, and all he could think was Thank god, because it meant he could stop degrading himself.

All at once, Junkrat was shoved aside, and Belmont was pinned against the shower wall by one massive hand.

“What did I say?” Roadhog growled, and the abject anger in his voice frightened even Junkrat -- the only other time that he’d heard such rage from Roadhog was in the bottle shop, when he’d made the offhand comment about “fire never hurting anyone.”

“He-- he’s yours, I know! But he agreed!” Belmont gasped, trying to cover himself back up, as if he was afraid Roadhog would cut off some of the more sensitive parts of his anatomy. “He said yes, I didn’t make him to do anything!”

Roadhog didn’t let go. He simply turned his head to look at Junkrat, whose stomach plummeted. From his position on the floor, Roadhog looked bigger and scarier than ever, but it wasn’t his imposing figure that filled Junkrat with fear, but the knowledge that Roadhog thought he wanted this. Of all the compromising positions for Roadhog to catch him in, having a near-stranger’s cock down his throat was the worst.

"...Yes," he admitted, voice unnaturally small and quiet. He didn't know why he had told the truth, that he had consented, when he could have lied to save face in front of Roadhog and get Belmont permanently out of the picture. There was just something about Roadhog that made him want to be honest for once in his life, even when it meant confessing to whatever awful thing he had done.

Roadhog released Belmont and started walking away. Seized by panic, Junkrat scrambled to his feet and chased after him, cigarettes in hand. "Wait, Roadhog! I didn't-- I mean, I did say yes, but I didn't want it, promise--"

"I don't care what you do with other people," Roadhog said levelly. "It's none of my business. Just tell me next time before I try to kill someone for taking advantage of you."

"There won't be a next time! Roadhog, it was just -- it was a business thing, see--"

The familiar, disembodied voice crackled over the loudspeaker. "Recreation hour is over. All inmates return to your cells for count."

Junkrat didn't budge. He touched Roadhog's arm. "Mate, ya gotta believe me, I didn't go askin' for this--"

"Get back to your cell before the CO catches you." Roadhog pulled his arm away from him and headed back to Cell 23. Junkrat watched him go, helpless and despondent and filled with self-loathing like he'd never felt before.

The door that separated their unit from the main prison hallway beeped. Jolted back into reality, he hurried back to his cell before two COs stepped through. Junkrat tossed the cigarettes at Thatcher, who stuffed them beneath his mattress. They stood at attention, backs rigid, as the correctional officer walked past each cell and counted everyone, his partner at the ready in case any prisoners had any funny ideas about attacking them.

“All clear!” The CO shouted, and the doors to the cells slid shut with a resounding clang.

The minute the two officers left, Junkrat dove for his pencil and paper.

Thatcher dug the cigarettes out from under his mattress and scooped out his brick hidey hole. “Good. Don’t ever even think about stealing from me again, understood?”

"Yeah, 'course," Junkrat muttered, distracted. He tapped the pencil against the floor as he tried to figure out how to word his letter to Roadhog. He was acutely distressed; he needed Roadhog to know that he had no feelings, sexual or otherwise, for Belmont, and that he wasn't the kind of person who would suck dick for no reason.

"Roadhog," he wrote. "Mate. Listen, here's the deal. I've been getting some weapon parts, ya know how it is. And I’m making some bombs, see? But I needed some pipes. Don’t got nothing worth trading, so I did a stupid thing and traded Thatcher’s ciggies to Belmont. He didn't take kindly to that, so I had to get em back from Belmont. Which meant sucking his dick. I swear, I only did it cuz I don't want Thatcher to kill me. The only d--" He scribbled out that phrase before it got too far, because wow, that was certainly a thought he was experiencing, that the only dick he'd want to suck would be Roadhog's. He rubbed his face with his hands. What was happening to him?

"It don't mean nothing, honest. I'm not the kinda bloke what goes around blowing people all the time. I mean, you know me. He ain't me type, he's too small. I told ya I like em big, right? Pretty sure I did, but me memory ain't the best." He gnawed on the end of his pencil, worried about how best to proceed. "Thanks for sticking up for me. Ya always got my back. Don't be mad at me, yeah?" He didn't know if that last bit sounded desperate or not, but frankly, he was a little desperate. He couldn't handle the thought of Roadhog judging him.

"P.S." he added, "Destroy this letter. Flush it or eat it or something. That's a thing hogs do, right?" He gave a small, guilty giggle. He was trying to bring some levity to the mood, but it was a serious request, there was far too much incriminating information in his note.

He looked over the letter. It was probably riddled with spelling errors, as the only words he was 100% sure he knew how to spell correctly were the ones he learned from assembly manuals, which were how he taught himself how to read in the first place. Still, Roadhog was sure to get the gist of it. He tied the note to his fishing line and cast it over to Roadhog's cell. He couldn't feel anything for a long moment, and he tried waggling the string in case Roadhog hadn't noticed it. He was about ready to reel it back in, crestfallen, when he finally felt the note being detached. He waited anxiously for Roadhog to read it and, with any luck, reply. When he felt a tug on his string, he pulled it back through the narrow space of his cell door.

"You're an idiot,” Junkrat read. “That’s it?” he called out. He'd come to realise that Roadhog calling him an idiot was more often than not a term of endearment. Once upon a time, it had been a proper insult, but as of late, there was more affection to malice in his voice every time he called Junkrat an idiot. Still, it didn’t sufficiently answer whether Roadhog was angry over the whole incident.

“Turn the paper over,” Roadhog replied from two cells down.

Junkrat flipped the page over. “But I'm not mad." He exhaled in relief. He was glad he hadn't irreparably fucked things up with Roadhog, and that he -- hopefully -- wasn't being judged for going along with Belmont's terms of payment. There was still the pressing matter of the fact that he had nearly expressed a desire to blow Roadhog, but that was a thought that he would deal with some other time, because that was a tangle of emotions that he was not prepared to sort through.