#god he's so ugly. sorry Terry

[pigspeetsandhooflikefeets]

I have to admit it's kind of impressive how poorly designed older Terry is. I guess that's what Being-Batman-While-Not-Bruce-Wayne does to your body

[robyntherav3n]

even if his name was natalie nunn………

[angelictaehyun]

PAIRING: richboy!kang taehyun x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: He’s been a pain in your ass since you began working at the club. He’s arrogant and insanely wealthy, and you’re struggling to simply pay tuition. Needless to say, it’s not quite the match made in heaven… or so it seems. 

WC. 11,200+

GENRE: rich kid au, country club au, e2l au, crack, fluff

WARNINGS: mild language, illegal activity, y/n’s an actual dumbass, and taehyun’s kind of a dick lol

.

You repeatedly tapped your pen against your sticky, worn checkbook, awaiting a response from the refined, old lady sitting comfortably under a patio umbrella. You, on the other hand, felt the scorching heat of the summer sun against your back, making you sweat uncontrollably—you could only hope you didn’t resemble a drenched pig. The woman eyed you, a bit too judgmentally for your liking, before pointing her perfectly manicured nail at the menu in her hand, “I want this pasta, but make it gluten-free. Throw in another iced tea, too… extra lemon, of course!”

You winced at her shrill voice. 

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, all of our pasta is made from flour,” you explained patiently. Her right eye twitched. You were an obstacle in her way of getting what she desired, she was angry. Lovely. However, above all, she was confused, “Just tell the chef to make it without flour, let him know it’s a special request. I don’t see the issue.”

“Ma’am, I’m telling you… there’s no way to make it without flour, we just don’t have the type of noodle you want in house.”

She drummed her hand on the table, absolutely fuming. She glanced at you like you kicked a puppy, it was absolutely infuriating. She grasped for nothing as her brain formulated any response, “This is outrageous! I want to speak with a manager. Now!”

You sighed, “Gladly.”

It was astounding, truly, the lack of self-awareness and consideration some people had... or, didn’t have. You wished, so badly, to tell them off, but you desperately needed the cash. After all, college wouldn’t pay for itself and the bills piling on your coffee table wouldn’t just magically disappear. You swiftly turned around and trudged away, scanning the vast garden for your manager, Yeonjun, but unsurprisingly, he was nowhere to be found. You’d known him long enough to assume he was hiding in the manager’s office, his poor attempt to flee from the overbearing, entitled crowd. How he scammed his way into a managerial position, a position of authority… that was beyond you. 

You were halfway across the floor, pushing past another server when you felt an intense stare land on you. You halted in place, knowing exactly who the gaze belonged to. You glanced at the table stationed in the far corner of the garden, instantly meeting his piercing stare. He eyed you shamelessly, a signature habit of his, before throwing you a smug grin. You weren’t going to kid yourself, he wore the smirk well. 

Too bad he was a pompous ass. 

Kang Taehyun. You hated saying his name, it humanized him and he was anything but human. Rather, he was an evil, irritating demon spawn simply disguising himself as human. And the cherry on top? He was the absolute bane of your existence. 

There was a hint of mischief in his eyes and something else you couldn’t quite pinpoint, but you didn’t necessarily want to. He opened his mouth to call you over, but much to your dismay, decided against it and instead rose from his seat to saunter over to you. You tried fleeing the scene the millisecond he stood up, but the elderly lady directly in front of you shuffled quite slowly, blocking your exit and trapping you in place. You tapped your foot impatiently as he approached you. 

“You look… sweaty,” he observed, chuckling at your less-than-appealing state. Truth be told, though he didn’t like admitting it to himself, he thought you looked beautiful. 

“Taehy—” he forcibly cut you off by landing his slender finger on your lips. You ignored the spark you felt from the small contact. He let his gaze travel to your Cupid’s bow momentarily, a part of him wanting to kiss your frown away. 

“Ah, not Taehyun,” he reminded you smoothly. You considered biting his finger off, but you prided yourself on your outstanding professionalism. Granted, it significantly dwindled every time you spoke to him.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry,” you mumbled monotonously. “Mr. Kang… if you don’t remove your hand from my mouth, I will shove a menu so far up your ass, you’ll choke,” you snapped, a pretty smile adorning your face.

“Oh, Y/N. Your customer service and approachable personality never fail to amaze me,” he stated, drawing his finger away from you. He continued despite the growing, fiery rage in your eyes, “I’d like another fork, mine’s a bit dirty.”

“That’s your problem. I’m not your waitress, I have my own customers to deal with, so if you don’t mind…”

He completely disregarded your subtle plea for him to leave. “For your information, I’d much rather prefer you as a server and not him,” he admitted, throwing a spare glance at his server—Hyunjin, if you were guessing from the blond hair. 

“That’s too bad…” you trailed as you mustered up the fakest sympathetic pout you could. You continued, “Anyways, I really hate to cut this short, but I’d better get going. I’m sure you’ll survive with your fork. You probably won’t get tetanus, but fingers crossed.”

“Yeah, best of luck with Cinderella’s stepmom,” he mumbled, gesturing to your awaiting customer. He flashed you a confident wink before whirling around and returning to his seat. You scoffed, your lips tilting downward into an ugly grimace. The snapping sound from a couple of feet away brought you out of your disgusted daze. The lady you had spoken to was repeatedly snapping her fingers in an attempt to grab your attention. You were met with an expectant gaze when you directed your focus back on her. She was poised, her spine in perfect posture and hands folded properly across her lap; her body language exhibited no sign of emotion until you reached her watchful glare, clearly telling you to hurry along. You inhaled sharply before plastering on a fake smile. You resumed your hunt for Yeonjun, but once again, you felt the weight of a cocky stare land on your back. 

He was challenging you, silently. You knew it. Unfortunately for him, you had no interest in playing his silly, childish game, so you clenched your jaw and walked away. 

· ──────────────────── ·

As odd as it was, you and your best friend had a favorite bench. It sat a block from the country club and in the middle of a hidden, rugged park, but it was your safe space; it’d been your favorite place since you both found it in fourth grade. After every grueling shift, Kai would meet you on the bench with dinner. The food was almost always inedible, but you weren’t there for his cooking, rather his company. He was already perched on the bench, kicking at a pebble beneath his feet. He heard you approach but kept his focus on the fascinating rock.

“God, took you long enough, I’ve been here forever. I started to think you ditched me for one of those rich boys,” he complained. When you didn’t retort with a snarky comeback like you normally would’ve, he turned from his spot and glanced at your disheveled figure, immediately letting out an obnoxious laugh.

You looked like shit.

Your hair was a disaster, the wisps of hair framing your face no longer considered stylish, but rather unkempt and as Kai liked to put it, “homeless-like.” Not only did you look bad, you felt unclean. The sweat behind your knees was quickly becoming uncomfortably sticky and your mascara was rubbing off, making you look like a rabid raccoon. 

Despite all that, you were happy to see Kai, his bubbly personality never failed to cheer you up—but you’d never let him be privy to that. 

You shot him the nastiest glare you could muster, but that proved difficult considering the little energy you had left.

“Aw, Y/N…”

“I’m going to quit, I swear to God. If I have to hear one more soccer mom complain about her salmon being too fishy, I’m going to have to start perfecting my mugshot pose,” you grumbled through clenched teeth. He made a noise of disagreement, “Let’s not throw your ass in jail just yet. Orange makes you look like a traffic cone.”

You shot him an indignant glare, “Thanks.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Anyways, I made us some hamburgers and managed to grab some extra soda cans before leaving home. So bone app the teeth or whatever.”

You snorted. He always brightened your mood, just a simple sentence could lift your sad spirit. You had to give it to him, the burger looked pretty appetizing… but you’d learned that with his cooking, much like anything else, appearances can be quite deceiving. Despite this, you inhaled your burger, ignoring the fact that the meat was undercooked and the mayonnaise was likely expired. You paid no attention to the fact that your soda was lukewarm and flat—you sipped on it regardless. Your mind was elsewhere, easily drowning out whatever Kai was ranting about. 

“... I know you probably had a bad day ‘cause of your boy,” he observed quietly.

You snapped your focus back, “My boy?”

“Yeah, your boy. The one you think is a self-righteous prick, but secretly think is really hot. Hm, what was it… Terry? Tyler? Taeyong?... Oh, I got it. Trash can.”

You scoffed, “Taehyun, most certainly, is not my boy. I can’t stand him. His head is so far up his flat ass, I’m surprised he’s still breathing.”

Kai nodded in feigned understanding. He tilted an eyebrow quizzically before opening his mouth, but you beat him to it.

“And I don’t think he’s cute!” 

“... And I’m Beyoncé.” 

You didn’t respond, too tired to argue with him. Instead, you let out a small noise of disagreement before resting your head on his broad shoulder, contently sipping on your warm soda. He knew how tired you were; everyday he watched you wear yourself down to practically nothing, it hurt him. He leaned his head against your own, placing a hand atop your thigh and squeezing reassuringly. You allowed yourself to relax, breathing in the humid, summer air. You stayed like that until he let out a small laugh. 

“Let’s rob him,” Kai suddenly suggested. He was joking, obviously, but you still perked at the idea. You turned to face him expectantly, straw loosely hanging from your mouth. He visibly retracted, “Jeez, Y/N, I was kidding.”

“I’m not.”

“… I’m not robbing someone.” He threw you a cautious glare before aggressively taking a large bite of his burger and chugging his flat soda. You were losing your mind, he was sure of it. You poked curiously, “So I’m assuming your stance on graffitiing is the same.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line before letting out an exasperated sigh, “Obviously.”

You turned away, sulking, and he couldn’t help but snicker. You were his best friend and had been since second grade, but if he said he didn’t think you were a dumbass, he'd be lying. 

“Come on, it’s time to get you home, you have an early shift tomorrow,” he reminded suddenly, mouth still full. You smacked his arm, disgusted by his lack of basic manners. He opened his mouth to showcase all his unchewed food. 

You gagged. 

“You’re disgusting!” you screeched, shuffling away from him. He chased after you, catching you almost immediately. His long legs made it easy. He effortlessly tossed you over his shoulder, ignoring your squirming, and carried you to his car, “Hush, I know you love me.”

“Gross. Never.”

He slapped the back of your calf and you squeaked, “Kai! Put me down! Now!”

“No, not until you say it. Make it believable, too.”

He wasn’t joking, you knew that. Eleven years of friendship and he was still as shameless as the day you met him. More so, if anything. Yes, his eight-year-old self was quite the charmer. You grumbled monotonously, “Kai, what can I say… you’re the light of my life, my hero, my best friend. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Probably die. I love you, I guess.”

“Too sarcastic, but it’ll do,” he conceded. He set you down and held in a laugh. Your hair looked even worse than before. He slung an arm around your shoulder, “Okay, get in the car. Hurry. I’d rather not listen to you complain about your lack of beauty sleep… again.”

· ──────────────────── ·

You mindlessly typed in a complicated order as Yeonjun watched your gaze drift over to the garden. 

“You’ve pressed that button so much, the console’s probably broken. Cool it,” he reprimanded gently. Your attention snapped back to the screen which was littered with incorrect orders.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what has me so distracted today,” you mumbled sheepishly. He chuckled and gave you a comforting nudge on the shoulder, “I think I know exactly why.”

Your gaze followed his and instantly landed on Taehyun. As much as you hated to admit, he looked good. Great, even. It looked like he’d just walked out of a rager, especially with his tie undone and shirt untucked, which he pulled off beautifully. His hair was slightly disheveled and you suddenly had the strongest urge to run a hand through it. 

Your eyes widened at the sudden thought and you aggressively shoved it to the back of your mind. “I don’t like him!” 

“I never said you did.” he argued, suppressing a mirthful grin. Yeonjun reminded you of Kai, especially with his insistence on your attraction to Taehyun, or as you believed, lack thereof. He continued, “Just a reminder, though. The line between love and hate is so, so thin.”

Rather than responding and saying something that would surely get you fired, you huffed and turned your focus back on the order, unaware of your aggressive punching on the console’s screen. You were already having a rough day, but everyday spent at the country club was considered less-than-stellar. Yeonjun gave you a reassuring smile before sulking off to deal with another whiny, overbearing customer. You unconsciously let your gaze travel back over to Taehyun and was instantly met with a genuine smile, just not one directed to you. He laughed at a joke, oblivious to your longing and thank God, if he caught you staring, you’d never hear the end of it. His smile was just so pretty, you couldn’t help but feel giddy. Sure, you hated him—that’s what you told yourself—but you could appreciate a handsome face. As if on cue, Taehyun turned in your general direction and you quickly scrambled out of sight. As you turned, Hyunjin scrambled by you, the heavy tray resting on his shoulder nearly beheading you. His long, wavy blond hair, which was in a nice, neat half-ponytail at the beginning of his shift, was now splaying in every direction—he was beyond stressed. If the messy hair wasn’t enough, his hooded eyes were getting darker. You approached him as he grabbed a checkbook, “Hyun, you look like a mess.”

“Hey, Y/N! Yeah, I just have a lot of floor to cover, and they’re all extra demanding today,” he explained, short of breath. He groaned as he watched another set of people sit in his section and continued, “God, please cover me. I’ll owe you one. I’m already overwhelmed with my current table number.”

You laughed understandingly, “Of course.”

“You’re the best, it’s table thirty.” He squinted to get a good look, “Oh! I know that customer, he’s a great tipper. You should be just fine.”

You shifted your attention to the table in question, immediately deflating as you saw Taehyun sitting with a friend. You turned around to protest, but Hyunjin was already gone. 

You internally screamed before trudging over to his table, gathering all of your dignity... kissing his arrogant ass wasn’t necessarily on your agenda for today. When Taehyun saw you approach his table, he did little to hide his pleased smirk. You undid your balled fist. 

“Hi. My name is Y/N, I’ll be your server today,” you monotonously stated, an unenthusiastic but convincing smile plastering your face. To any other guest, it would’ve been believable, but Taehyun knew better; your server persona didn’t fool him.

“Y/N. What a pretty name,” his friend observed, a bit too flirtatiously for your liking. Taehyun noticed too, judging from the way he narrowed his eyes and tongued his cheek. And also the way he obviously kicked his friend’s leg under the table. You mustered a sweet smile, hoping to mask your disgust, “Thank you! That’s so… nice. Anyway, what would you like to drink? We got in a new Italian wine, just delivered today.”

“That’s alright, just water.”

“Water.”

Cheap. Especially for a pair of chaebol children. 

“Alright! I’ll be back momentarily,” you informed, smile dropping the instant you turned away. As you trailed back to the kitchen, you heard Taehyun give his friend a hushed reprimanding making you smirk. You passed Yeonjun, noticing he looked as if he was about to lose his sanity. You gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder—for someone so young, he managed well. Of course, he used his handsome face and charm as often as possible; his attractiveness and charisma was dangerous. He managed to grasp the attention of everyone and it aided him greatly. You pressed quizzically, “Jun, you don’t seem good.”

“Says you. You’re lover boy’s server. What a shocking, juicy turn of events. I’m on my toes,” he teased impishly. You stared at him vacantly. Yeonjun continued to poke fun, enjoying the lack of response you gave as you procrastinated to avoid returning to Taehyun’s table, but sadly, there was only so long it could take to fill a glass with water. Yeonjun pouted sympathetically, “Good luck.”

You didn’t need luck. No. To spend a precious hour or more, waiting on a privileged, disgustingly wealthy teenage boy, specifically Kang Taehyun, you needed patience, self-control, and temper management. You reminded yourself of just that as you approached him, placing his water near his plate, “Gentlemen, are you ready to order?”

You jotted down his friend’s order, ignoring the growing complexity as he piled on request after request, no sign of stopping. “... And I need it lukewarm. Not room temperature, but lukewarm.”

You diligently suppressed the eye roll that nearly bubbled up. Honestly, you’d dealt with far worse, Taehyun’s friend didn’t even scratch the surface. 

You had to wonder though, did people like this ever feel shame? 

You faced the cocky redhead, “And for you… Mr. Kang?”

You cringed. He didn’t miss the nearly imperceptible flash of disgust that crossed your expression. He grinned, “Just the lasagna. While you’re at it, I’d like another glass of water.”

“You already have a full glass,” you seethed, glancing at the glass you had just set down. He enjoyed this: testing you, pushing you, slowly dwindling your sanity until you snapped. He wanted to get a reaction from you, anything other than the bored, disinterested expression you gave him every single day. He smiled innocently, “What can I say… I like staying hydrated.”

His amusement was irritating. Unsurprisingly, his torment was based on the stupid, outdated notion that a boy has to show interest by picking on his crush, but you weren’t privy to his inner thought process. You suppressed another eye roll as you turned to grab a pitcher from Hyunjin, the boy sprinting behind you with a full tray. You felt bad for him, at least, until you remembered he pawned Taehyun’s table onto you and your pity became short lived. You filled an empty glass, increasingly aware of Taehyun’s piercing stare. Your emotionless expression would’ve given him no indication as to how nervous you felt if it weren’t for the slight blush that painted your face.  

He smirked victoriously. You hated it.

A breath of relief escaped you as his attention turned to his friend. He leaned back in his seat and lifted a hand to rest behind his head, accidentally smacking the pitcher, causing you to spill the cold water onto his lap. He flinched at the sudden icy contact. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you gasped, fishing a stray napkin from your apron. Normally, he would’ve brushed it off, considering it was his fault, but he felt pressured under the expectant gaze of his snobbish peer. Plus, he gained the reaction he wanted from you... something other than disgust. He feigned offense as he dramatically pushed his seat back and stood up, easily towering over you, “Next time, try not sucking at your job!”

He immediately regretted his outburst but he showed no sign of remorse, not when he had a reputation to uphold. God forbid, he could actually be a considerate person. 

More importantly, though, he pushed too far this time and there wasn’t much turning back. You winced at his tone, withering back from his harsh statement, though you quickly replaced your hurt with unadulterated rage. Your blood boiled as your vision went red, steam practically fuming from your ears. Your pained expression broke his heart and he nearly dropped his act, but before he could do or process anything, his silk shirt was sticking uncomfortably to his body as ice water seeped through. His slacks were drenched and his designer loafers were completely ruined. He didn’t pay much attention to that, though... not when you were an inch from his face, holding an empty water pitcher over his head.

“I quit,” you lowly hissed. You firmly shoved the pitcher into his hand and scoffed as he stumbled back from the force. All eyes were on you as you stalked off, hastily tossing your apron into the nearest trash can. Yeonjun gave you a quick nod, his subtle way of telling you he was proud. 

He’d get your resignation letter another day.

Taehyun helplessly called after you but it was useless. You were too far gone to care. 

· ──────────────────── ·

You slammed your car door shut, absolutely fuming. You blankly stared at the frog keychain hanging from your rearview mirror. Normally, you would’ve smiled at the small figurine, but in the moment, you wanted to punt it into another timezone. It’s cheeriness pissed you off to no end. You quickly fished your phone out to dial Kai’s number, the line ringing thrice before he picked up, groaning, “I’m trying to sleep.”

His voice seemed muffled, likely from the thirty plushies he insisted on sleeping with. 

“It’s dinner time.”

“It’s called a nap, genius.”

“Alright, well, I just quit my job… and I might have dumped a pitcher of water onto Taehyun’s stupid, privileged ass.”

The line fell silent. You wouldn’t have been surprised had he hung up on you—your tendency to act impulsively drove him up the wall and he was nearing his limit. You patiently awaited his response, likely a reprimanding scold. 

“Y/N, what the fuck.”

“He had it coming, I swear,” you promised. In detail, you explained your biased side of the story, ignoring the obvious judgement emanating from the opposite line. The minute you finished, you spotted Taehyun’s panicked figure run into the full parking lot, frantically searching for you; you ducked behind your steering wheel, praying he didn’t see you. You squeaked, cutting off Kai’s tangent, “Oh my God! Oh my God! He followed me!”

He sighed. “If you dumped ice water on me, I’d be chasing after you too.”

You peeked curiously from your spot, seeing he had yet to find you. The cogs in your mind churned slowly, mixing in with your rage, “What if we graffitied his house?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m serious, I want to do it! He can’t just get away with humiliating me in front of the entire club, waitstaff, and my manager. And graffitiing isn’t illegal… ish.”

You could practically picture his narrowed gaze, “It’s definitely, most certainly, illegal. Sunshine, I understand your anger, hell, I’d be outraged, but revenge isn’t always the answer. And graffiti isn’t the most… sound idea.”

You crossed your arms defensively, “It’s a genius idea.”

“It really isn’t.”

“I’m going to do it, regardless of if it’s a good idea or not. You’re either in or out.”

Once more, the line fell quiet. His mind churned, concluding there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d follow through—you were simply too chicken. He laughed, “Fine. I’m in.”

“Great! Find his address, I’ll be over soon.”

You hung up and regained your composure. Taehyun spotted your car as you buckled in your seatbelt, making direct eye contact with your enraged figure. You were surprised, he didn’t seem angry, rather regretful. Almost apologetic. 

But you didn’t care. 

You sped off the lot without sparing him a final glance. 

· ──────────────────── ·

“Have faith in me! Finding his address isn’t going to be hard. You know, I’m a tech whiz, it runs in the family.”

You snickered, “Beomgyu getting accepted into the computer science program at his university doesn’t mean you got the tech gene. You’re the worst with technology, you can’t even remember your laptop login half the time.”

He eyed you challengingly, before cracking his knuckles and typing furiously. Only a single minute had passed before he was yelling, “Jackpot! I found it!”

You were thrown for a loop. He was quite technologically inept, he couldn’t even open a browser without some trouble, let alone find an address. You stared at him quizzically, a smidge of doubt crossing your mind. He deflated, avoiding your hard gaze, “Okay… maybe, just maybe, I called Gyu before you arrived and had him help.”

You snorted. “Yeah, that tracks.”

You sighed and tossed yourself back on his plush bed, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars plastered on his ceiling. You laughed quietly, you remembered putting them up there—it was really only a year ago. See, Kai had this whole star-sticker-related schtick or as he liked to put it, “Inability to have them as a child which subsequently caused emotional damage.”

You had just returned from a grueling shift and you were exhausted, weak, and insanely pissed—reason being Taehyun, of course.

It was always Taehyun.

In a frivolous attempt to cheer you up, Kai suggested pasting the stickers onto his ceiling. Honestly, it was more stressful than fun. He constantly wobbled around the bed, nearly dropping you several times as you sat perched on his broad shoulders and stuck them up. It kept you busy though, and thus, kept your mind off of Taehyun. 

It was funny, honestly. For someone that swore they hated him, you sure thought about him a lot. He took residence in your mind and you felt like the landlord trying to evict him. 

Even at that moment, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Of course, you were in denial. You told yourself it was natural to be thinking about him; after all, you were going to destroy his property. There was absolutely no other reason as to why he ran free in your mind… none at all. 

Kai knew you were overthinking. It wasn’t hard to tell, especially since your forehead usually tended to crease in the ugliest manner when you did. He tried reeling you out of your daze, “So, we’re going to commit a crime.”

“Yep.”

“... There’s no turning back.”

“I know. I’m not going to chicken out.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, of course you’d chicken out. You always did. He didn’t see any harm in indulging you with your idiotic plan, so he found the address. No harm, no foul. Right?

· ──────────────────── ·

You anxiously picked at the leather seating beneath you, nearly tearing a hole in the worn fabric. 

“Yo, cool it. Jihyo is already pretty fucked up,” Kai warned. Oh, Jihyo. You still couldn’t believe he named his old, rickety car—let alone after his ex. His car looked as if it had a mile left in it before it ultimately broke down, but you had to put some blind trust in Jihyo. After all, she was your getaway car if everything went south. You’d been sitting in Kai’s passenger seat for half an hour, coming up with nearly every excuse not to proceed with the crime.

“We really don’t have to do this. Not to mention, I don’t want to do this,” he grumbled. 

“Then why are you here?”

Imagine his surprise when you showed up at his door, decked out in all-black, stealthy gear, hope and adrenaline coursing through your body. He truly believed you would’ve backed down by now, and a small part of him hoped you still would, but the odds weren’t looking in his favor. 

“I’m not letting you go to jail! I can’t get through the school year without you, especially now that Jihyo—human Jihyo—is starting to spread her stupid, little personal agenda against me. Like, yeah, I broke up with you and that’s rough, but maybe next time, try not being manipulative… or a cheater,” he rambled. You flashed him a sympathetic smile; he said he was over it but you knew better. You patted his arm comfortingly and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, a flustered, shy smile replacing his pout. 

“Guess what? I think I know exactly what’ll make you feel better,” you whispered sweetly. 

His smile instantly turned down into an exasperated frown, “Mhm, let me guess… robbing the rich boy you have a crush on.”

“I don’t have a crush on him! Why would I like him? He yelled at me in front of the entire club! And we’re not robbing him, we’re simply… graffitiing his house. Tastefully. 

“So you admit, you had a crush on him.”

“No! I’m just saying!”

He pointedly rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the castle-like house across the street, not wanting to have that conversation with you. He mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like idiot but you let it slide, instead choosing to focus on the task at hand. 

“Okay, so the gate code is probably something stupid like his birthday, his mom is probably sentimental like that,” you mumbled to yourself. You tapped your foot anxiously as you tried to formulate a coherent plan. You slowly continued, “The only problem is the crazy amount of security cameras around his house. Like, who needs that many cameras? People are dying.”

“God, I hate you,” Kai grumbled.

You ignored him, “There has to be a blind spot, somewhere a camera won’t cover. Hm…” you studied the perimeter, searching for that camera-free sweet spot. At that moment, you found a tiny patch of grass, hidden under a massive oak tree. 

Bingo. 

You shook Kai’s arm aggressively, “Look! Right there, that’s the spot. That tree has to cover the camera.”

He rested his head against the steering wheel, “Let’s get this over with.”

As you both climbed out of his car, you couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place. The street was littered with fancy, expensive cars while Jihyo looked like she belonged in the dump, making you even angrier. Kai crept over to the sidewalk, insisting on creeping in the shadows like a vigilante. You, on the other hand, struggled to carry your duffel bag full of equipment, constantly getting slowed down by the exceptional weight. That was your fault though, you packed it full of necessary, outstandingly heavy equipment (necessary being a loose term). Alongside the many cans of paint sat a bag of Goldfish, three juice boxes (because Kai is a massive baby), a faulty navigation system, a not-at-all threatening ski mask, and a broken hammer. 

You didn’t remember packing that hammer. 

You settled in front of Taehyun’s gate, hoping your birthday theory was correct. Of course, simply because it was you and your luck was awful, it wasn’t. You began pressing random keys, hoping something would work but it was fruitless. Nothing worked, not even the basic combinations. You huffed, “I guess we’re going to have to climb our way in.”

You mentally prepared yourself as Kai sent a couple of prayers out for good measure. He eyed your duffel bag curiously before opening it, instantly met with a multitude of spray paint in all shades. He narrowed his eyes and scoffed, “Jesus, Y/N! Where the hell did you get all this shit?”

“... Craigslist.”

“Bullshit, you were kicked off Craigslist years ago.”

You winced, insulted by his easy remark—he knew how sensitive you were about that. You kicked a pebble sheepishly, mumbling softly, “Fine, I bought the paint from Soobin…”

His eyes widened comically as his heart practically ripped out of his chest, “Soobin?! Choi Soobin?! You can’t be serious. No, there’s no way you bought from the school drug dealer! He’s a criminal! He probably tried to toss in some of that devil’s lettuce with your purchase, huh? Or worse… crack!”

You rolled your eyes and tossed your head back, he was always so dramatic. “Kai, he’s not a criminal. He’ll occasionally sell an edible or two, but that’s it! He didn’t try to sell me anything. Actually, he gave me a pretty good deal on this stuff.”

“Lovely, a modern-day businessman,” he grumbled sarcastically. 

“Whatever, just help me climb the wall,” you huffed, zipping up your bag before tossing it over the blockade. Hesitantly, he got on one knee, muttering something you couldn’t quite hear—not that you wanted to anyways. You delicately stood on his knee as he pushed on your thighs in an attempt to boost you over. 

Honestly, you struggled. Your weak muscles did little to aid in your quest, but Kai’s strength helped. 

“God, take your sweet time, it’s not like your flat, piece of plywood ass is dangling in front of my face or anything. I’m about to throw up,” he gagged. 

You scoffed, “Yeah, yeah, complain all you want but this is the most action you’ll ever see.”

“... I won’t hesitate to drop you on your face.”

However, before he could follow on his threat, you managed to hoist yourself over the brick wall. You offered a hand to Kai but instead of accepting, he eyed it mockingly, knowing you weren’t strong enough to lift him. He stretched his legs before taking a step back, giving him a running start, and surprising you both when he successfully lifted himself.

You placed your hand over his mouth, “Shh.. whisper. We’re in enemy territory now.”

He licked your palm, nearly making you screech, “Gross!”

He childishly stuck his tongue out. You shook your head and began scrounging the duffel bag for the perfect paint color. Of course, you wanted to create a masterpiece worthy of Kang Taehyun... you even considered tagging it. Kai silently sat on the grass, aimlessly picking at the freshly-cut blades as he watched you happily paint. 

You were pleased to say that in the half an hour you’d been painting, nothing had gone awry... yet.

“The fuck is that supposed to be?” he questioned curiously, leaning closer to inspect the vulgar work. 

“Taehyun,” you said easily.

“Really? ‘Cause it looks like a dick.”

“It’s called symbolism, Kai.” You stepped back to admire your work as if it were hung in the Louvre whilst Kai scrunched his nose, clearly offended by the unpleasant art.

“You know, it’s funny how you have the biggest crush on this dic—” Before he could further elaborate, he was interrupted by an awfully familiar voice. 

“What the hell are you doing on my front lawn?”

You cringed. You’d been caught red-handed. 

Kai turned slowly, surrendering with his hands up. You, however, kept your back turned, considering just going to hell with it and continuing your tasteful artwork. He glanced at you anxiously, silently pleading for you to put down the paint can. 

Only because Kai looked a second away from fainting, you huffed and turned around, mimicking his pose, the only difference being the bored expression plastered on your face. 

Taehyun stood in front of you, his arms crossed and irritation painted all over his body language, but as much as he tried to hide it, there was a glint of amusement behind his eyes. You hated how his obnoxious, stop sign hair managed to look amazing under the glow of the moonlight—it was beyond irritating. Arguably, his entire being was irritating. You held his gaze, silently challenging his presence. Kai, on the other hand, was sweating profusely and dramatically hyperventilating. He clutched onto your shoulder, failing to catch an actual breath, “Oh my God! I feel like my heart is pumping out lukewarm sewer water.”

He placed his hands on his knees as he hunched over and continued, “Please, Taehyun. Please, don’t hit me with your Lamborghini. I’m begging you.”

Taehyung blankly stared at the younger, completely forgetting he was even there. You rubbed your temple and hissed, “Will you shut the fuck up? You’re making this worse.”

“I don’t want to go to jail! My face is too pretty for jail, they’d murder me on sight for being the most gorgeous boy they’ve ever seen. God, please don’t call the cops… I’ll do anything,” Kai shamelessly begged. You were so close to punting him into the Pacific Ocean. Taehyun’s annoyingly gorgeous lips twisted into a smug grin as he directed his attention back on you, “Hm, and what about you, Princess? I don’t see you begging.”

You scoffed, “I’d rather eat Kai’s shoe.”

He simply hummed, “That’s too bad. You know, I have a family friend who’s a cop… I’ll convince him to go easy on you in jail.”

“The wealthy wielding control over the justice system… how unexpected.”

“Oh my God! Y/N’s kidding, she’ll do anything,” Kai blurted quickly, shooting you a death glare. Taehyun’s eyebrow lifted curiously, a satisfied smirk settling comfortably, “Is that true?”

“What the hell do you want?” you questioned hesitantly. 

“A date.”

You briefly considered his words before shoving Kai forward, “Yeah, go nuts. He’s all yours.”

“... With you.”

You threw your head back and let out an inappropriate, hearty laugh. Even Kai let out a small snicker before replacing it with a fake cough, but Taehyun didn’t seem amused. He watched you expectantly, awaiting an answer. 

“So this is the only way Kang Taehyun can score a date… by blackmailing them. You know, that actually makes sense,” you theorized to no one in particular. You simmered in silence for a short moment before Kai cleared his throat, hinting at his obvious discomfort. Taehyun was enjoying this, you just knew it. 

That broken hammer never looked better...

“Fine,” you conceded. You glared at him, biting your tongue to prevent you from going off on his pompous ass. Taehyun’s eyes lit up with hope. 

Kai let out a breath of relief before mumbling an apology and dragging you off the lawn. His grip on you tightened as you turned around one last time to shoot daggers at Taehyun. He stood comfortably in the middle of his manicured lawn, the porch lights behind him highlighting his pleased smirk, yet all you saw was red.

· ──────────────────── ·

Kai splayed across your bed, mindlessly picking at a random throw pillow while you spritzed a hint of perfume on your forearm. His gaze trailed over your figure curiously, “You’re quite dressed up for someone who’d rather sleep in a dumpster than go on this date.”

“Well I’m not about to walk into high society wearing a stained sweatshirt and joggers.”

He snorted, “Right, that’s the only reason.” You smoothed your shirt and gave yourself a once over, feeling quite confident in your choice of clothing. Kai wasn’t blind, he thought you looked nice, but he’d let pigs fly before he told you that. He continued, “You don’t look… that ugly.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing that was the closest you’d ever get to a compliment from him, “Thanks.”

“Do you know where he’s taking you?” 

“Nope.”

If you were being honest, you didn’t care where he took you; you didn’t set any conscious expectations. 

“Oh! Before I forget…” Kai smirked as he dug around his backpack. He tossed you a small, blue bottle of mouthwash. He winked cheekily, “You never know… mayhaps you’ll kiss him.”

You nearly threw up, “I most certainly will not be kissing anyone tonight, especially not his pretentious ass. Besides, you know about my rule.”

He groaned. He definitely knew about your rule, it was all you talked about after getting dumped by your last ex. After your last failed relationship (or four) you created a no-kiss policy for your first three dates. You wanted to make sure your kisses weren’t in vain, and honestly, it was fun just watching them work for it. 

“The rule is dumb,” he reminded. 

“... You’re dumb.”

You were busy dodging a pillow when your doorbell rang, signaling Taehyun’s arrival. You were shocked he didn’t just notify his presence by honking his horn—for a pompous ass such as himself, you wouldn’t have been surprised. 

“It’s time,” you mumbled somberly. 

“He isn’t the Grim Reaper. This is a date, it’s supposed to be a happy thing!” he tried encouraging sweetly as you stalked down the staircase, but to no avail, your mood didn’t lighten in the slightest. 

You aggressively swung open your front door, nearly knocking Kai unconscious. Taehyun dressed simple but pleasant; his expensive, black sweater was expertly tucked into a nice set of slacks and the Cartier bracelet that adorned his wrist, perfectly accentuated his veins. His bright, red hair was styled messily and his cheeks were flushed, beautifully highlighting his angled nose and sharp jawline. Your mouth gaped, just slightly, as you drank him in—while he was always attractive, this specific look had you stunned. He held a single rose against his chest and it only made him look more ethereal, if that was even possible. When you looked up, you instantly noted the hint of panic in his eyes, which made you feel at ease. 

“Taehyun,” you blankly addressed.

“Y/N! You look amazing, so beautiful…” he trailed as he handed you the rose. You grabbed it and immediately shoved it into Kai’s chest.

“Let’s get this over with,” you grumbled, pushing past him and harshly hitting his shoulder.

“... Right.”

“Hey, try not to murder him, I can’t afford bail. I make minimum wage,” Kai reminded, flashing Taehyun a sympathetic smile as the older trailed closely behind you. You were about to open his car door when he came rushing by, insisting on opening it for you. In return, you sent him a nasty glare, “I’m capable of opening my own door.”

“I’m just trying to be a gentleman.”

“A gentleman doesn’t go off on someone in the middle of a public space,” you reminded.”

He sighed. A mere five minutes into the date and he already felt defeated. He wished he could form a proper apology, but it would be futile—you’d just shut him down. So he decided to express his apology in the form of something he knew you’d accept; needless to say, he had a trick or two up his Gucci sleeve. 

You kept your gaze focused on anything but him. Your arms were folded across your chest, the evident frown on your face doing very little to hide your irritation. Despite that, he still thought you looked beautiful… granted, every single time he spoke to you, you wore a frown so this wasn’t new to him. 

“You look so pretty,” he complimented as he slid into the driver’s seat.

“I know.”

Of course he deserved every ounce of your cold, unwelcoming demeanor, but it still hurt. He was flushed but you didn’t notice since you made an obvious effort to scoot as far away from him as possible, practically pressing yourself up against the car door. However, the painful silence quickly overwhelmed you, so you hesitantly threw him a bone, “Where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise but I know you’ll like it. It’s my way of apologizing.”

“This better be a hell of an apology.”

“I promise you it is.”

You noticed his sincerity. His usual cockiness was replaced with shyness and a twinge of guilt, and you found it endearing. You stayed quiet for the remainder of the car ride, only a small sound of confusion as he pulled into a half-empty parking lot of a local carnival. A young employee approached the car and gave Taehyun a permitting nod, making you suspicious. He drove past the entrance gate and straight into a private space, parking next to a dinky, old ice cream truck. The space was close to a nearby forest, a bit too secluded for your taste.

“So you’re going to kill me,” you observed, scanning the dark environment around you.

He rolled his eyes. “No.”

“That’s what a murderer would say,” you mumbled.

You were so stubborn, he knew that, yet he still let out an exasperated sigh. He frowned and climbed out of his car, shuffling to your side, only to find you were already halfway out. You didn’t say anything, choosing to send another hard glare his way instead.

He headed in the direction of the carnival—not the forest—and gestured you to follow him. You trailed behind, ignoring the damp mud that stuck to the bottom of your cheap shoes. You felt a bit overdressed, but when you glanced at Taehyun, you felt better. However, the more you thought about it, his outfit likely cost more than your college tuition, putting a slight dent in your ego. You focused your attention on the glowing moon instead of him, and when he turned to look at you, he was in awe. You seemed peaceful, or at least, not as pissed. 

It was nice.

He led you down to the middle of the fair where you saw a crowd gathered around a massive dunk tank. He seemed antsy, constantly shifting his weight and picked at the hem of his costly shirt. He momentarily abandoned your side and walked to the dunk tank operator, speaking briefly before grabbing a bucket filled of unknown stuff. 

When he walked back, you stared curiously at the bucket which was full of heavy baseballs. “This is my apology.”

Vague. 

As if he read your mind, he gently placed his hand on your shoulder and turned you to face the tank, pointing directly at the chair above the pool. “I’m going to be sitting on that chair. Your job is to throw them,” he gestured over to the bullseye, “at the target, until I’m submerged.”

You couldn’t suppress your smile. He was right, this was an apology you’d accept, an apology in the form of embarrassment. Smart boy. 

He didn’t necessarily look forward to ruining his cashmere sweater, but he would’ve done anything to make it up to you, and your bright smile told him he was on the right path. You let out a light laugh, picking up a baseball and tossing it carelessly. 

He spared you a final glance before shuffling off to his fate. He seemed to garner a lot of attention, the crowd had grown significantly larger since you first arrived. You held the ball in your hand as he climbed onto the chair—you were arguably a little too excited to send him into the cold, cold water. He seemed shaky, but you didn’t care. You threw the ball with no hesitation. 

Strike one. You missed by a long shot.

He suppressed a laugh. You shook your body, ridding yourself of any anxiousness before trying once more. 

Strike two. You were closer. Barely.

You had an unlimited amount of attempts, but the longer you failed, the more embarrassed you felt. He now seemed comfortable... prideful, even. Your face was flushed red from humiliation, but you tried to keep it from affecting you as you threw once more, this time, significantly more aggressive. 

Strike three. This was outright shameful.

“C’mon, you can do better than that…” he baited. He couldn’t help but tease, it didn’t matter that you were on a date. The crowd let out a collective laugh. You scoffed indignantly, cracking your neck and back, your stare darkening. You were about to hit the winning shot, he knew it. He loosened his grip on the chair and leaned forward.

“I’m sorry,” he mouthed. 

The longing, heartfelt expression in his eyes had you flustered. You nodded understandingly, reeling in his genuine apology, and flashing him a sympathetic, sincere smile before throwing the baseball straight at the bullseye, sending him (and his expensive outfit) straight into the tank. 

You pumped a fist in the air as the crowd cheered. He emerged from the stale water, completely drenched. He shook hair away from his eyes before climbing from the tank and into a changing room, but not before finding your figure in the crowd. You wore a gentle, soft smile; for the first time, you looked at him with something other than hatred. 

It gave him hope. 

After changing, he appeared by your side as the crowd slowly dispersed, dressed a lot more comfortably. He changed into a pair of fitted (and designer, you just knew it) joggers and a clean, simple sweatshirt, pulled together with a silver chain hanging from his neck. He went from runway to streetwear yet he managed to look absolutely fantastic and it irked you. He seemed expectant yet nervous, constantly shifting his feet and biting his bottom lip. He needed reassurance and suddenly, you weren’t hesitant to provide it. 

After a minute of painful silence, you conceded. “I forgive you.”

A deep sigh of relief escaped him. He’d practically been holding his breath since that day and all of a sudden, this weight had been lifted off his chest. A wave of solace washed over him, “Thank god. I didn’t know what I would’ve done if that didn’t work.”

You giggled softly. He short-circuited for a mere second; being the cause of your melodious laugh had him speechless. It was all new to him. Your laugh was so sweet, soft, and a drastic contrast from the person he was used to. He yearned to hear it again. 

You peered up at him without saying a word.

He coughed awkwardly. “Right, uh, that didn’t take long at all. Let’s get you home, this was a waste of your time, I’m so sorry,” he rambled, turning in the direction of his car. You tilted your head questioningly. The night was still young and you had no interest in going back home. You were pleasantly surprised, all it took was a simple apology for your hidden, buried feelings to surface, though you knew how hard it was for him to apologize. Maybe that’s why you were so easy to forgive. You reached for his sleeve and gently tugged him back, “You asked me out on a date, so let’s do it.”

Going on an actual date was the last thing he expected. His plan for the night was to pick you up, try his best not to offend you more than he already had, and get dunked into some dirty, stale water. Of course he couldn’t refuse, seeing as his heart nearly soared from his chest. He nodded eagerly, “Y-yeah! Yeah! Okay, let’s have a date. Okay, uh, this is a carnival, right? I have to win you a plushie then, that’s just basic, carnival date knowledge. That’s the rule.”

You snorted. “Can’t break the rules then.”

He led you on over to the strength machine, eager to showcase his brawn—he hoped to impress you. His boyish mentality made you laugh, as endearing as it was, you couldn’t help but find it primitive and a bit childish. Nonetheless, you indulged him. He fished change from his wallet and you couldn’t help but notice the shiny, heavy, black card sitting comfortable in his wallet’s compartment; you suppressed an instinctual eye roll. He held the massive hammer in hand, attempting to hide the fact that it slightly weighed him down, despite his muscular build. He flashed you a confident wink before raining the hammer down on the target, sending the marker less than halfway up the pole. You coughed in an attempt to hide your laughter, you didn’t want to embarrass him, he’d already been dunked into a tank of mucky water. 

He stood dumbfounded, “Okay, this is rigged.”

“Mhm, right.”

“Fine, hotshot. Give it a whirl then,” he challenged. You raised an eyebrow cockily, yanking the hammer from his hand. It was simple, all you had to do was send the marker higher than his. You smugly grinned before trying your luck, the marker barely rising an inch. 

He slapped his knee and cackled. You were offended.

“This is rigged,” you mumbled. 

“S’ok, love. There’s plenty of other stuff to do that isn’t rigged,” he encouraged, throwing a side eye at the gamer operator who simply shrugged in return. He slung an arm around your shoulder, choosing not to dwell on the way his heartbeat sped, “Let’s go get you a prize.”

· ──────────────────── ·

For him to win you a singular prize, it took a game of whack-a-mole, a shared slice of pizza, a tuft of cotton candy, a vigorous pep talk, and sprinkle of beginner’s luck. It was a cheap, funky-looking ring, but you wore it with the utmost pride. 

You both talked excessively, really getting to know each other, and with each new detail, he fell harder. Your shy smile, adorable laugh, witty sense of humor… they were all just a bonus. Normally, you weren’t one to fall, if at all, but you found yourself going against your instinct and doing just that. In hindsight, though, it’d been a long time coming. He was hesitant to initiate any sort of skinship, considering you’d forgiven him an hour prior, but you proved opposite after you mindlessly reached for his hand the second you spotted your favorite ride.

“The spinning teacup! That’s a must!” You both felt the spark from the contact, it was unmistakable, but you both chose not to say anything. He let you drag him over, despite his aversion to the particular ride; he just couldn’t say no. 

“Fine, but promise me you won’t spin fast.”

“Pinky promise.”

As the cup turned, albeit at snail pace, he admired the light wind that flowed delicately through your hair. You had a certain aura, he couldn’t help but notice. It was enchanting. The moonlight kissed your skin beautifully, it had him watching in infatuated awe. 

“You’re staring.”

“Pssh, I’m not staring.” You eyed him and he crinkled his nose, “Fine, I was staring. I can’t help it, you’re beautiful.”

He didn’t know where the sudden confidence came from, perhaps it was just the motion sickness, but he didn’t regret it. You turned away from him, clearly flustered, and it made him smile. The ride ended quicker than he expected, but it was a welcomed relief, considering his well-being. The second he stepped from the cup, he fell to the floor. 

“I barely spun the cup! It turned, like, a mile an hour!”

“I’m sensitive! I get sick easily.” He lifted himself off the ground, just slightly, continuing with a corny joke. “Look at me on the floor, I guess some might say… I fell for you.”

You snorted, not at the cheesy line, but the aggressive finger-gun that accompanied it. He tried to wink but failed, immediately hunching over from the queasy feeling in his stomach, “Oh my God, I’m going to die.”

He made an ugly, inhuman noise. 

“Jesus Christ. Are you okay?”

“No, it’s fine, I’m great. I just think it’s my time to go.”

He reminded you a lot of Kai—both of them had an affinity for being overly dramatic.

You rubbed his back soothingly. He felt so embarrassed, but the feeling was overshadowed by the sickly feeling. You continued caressing, making sure to glare at anyone that dared judge him. You crouched down until you were eye level and brushed his hair from his forehead, giving him a small smile. At that moment, he could’ve sworn you were an angel of some sort. He felt better instantly. 

“I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine,” he insisted, waving his hand carelessly, telling you not to worry.

“Let’s just head home. I’ll have Kai pick us up, he’ll definitely do it.” You paused, crinkling your forehead in thought, “Scratch that, he just got his license and ran over a cone yesterday.” 

He stood up slowly, waving his hand once more. “In the recipe for a perfect carnival date, the ferris wheel is a must.”

You didn’t like where he was going with that. 

“You’re going to hurl if we go on that. For real, this time.”

He rested his hand atop his heart. “I won’t! I swear.”

“I don’t know...”

He laced his hand with your own and pulled you to the carnival’s main attraction. He fiddled with the ring on your finger, proudly glancing at it every once in a while.

Just your luck, a slightly younger couple was paired with you on the ferris wheel. The ride operator shoved the four of you into the cramped, tiny compartment, ignoring the silent plea Taehyun sent her way. The other couple sat hesitantly with a noticeable distance between them, awkwardly shifting every now and then. The young men—one blond, one with raven black hair—stayed quiet and you couldn’t help but think they were also on their first date. They often glanced at each other but didn’t talk and Taehyun had to hide his amusement. All four of you simmered in uncomfortable silence for a good portion of the ride. 

Taehyun unconsciously threw an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close as you laid your head on his shoulder. It was a subtle display of affection that made you blush, but he didn’t notice. Out of the corner of his eyes, Taehyun watched the blond boy copy his movement, just significantly clumsier—the poor boy accidentally smacked his boyfriend square on the nose. It took a lot for Taehyun (and you) to suppress an amused laugh.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry,” whispered the blond. His boyfriend let out a small, nervous laugh, “It’s okay.”

The black-haired boy gently rubbed his nose before reaching for his boyfriend’s hand—a simple compromise. The blond avoided eye contact with you and Taehyun, choosing to shift his gaze to the carnival below. The black-haired boy spoke first, “We’re kind of… new to dating.”

The blond cringed, still looking at the fair, before nodding in agreement. You giggled at the obvious tension, quickly comforting, “It’s cute! You two seem like an adorable couple.”

The couple smiled fondly at each other. The blond squeezed his boyfriend’s hand reassuringly and it made you smile. They seemed so in love, you were swooning. The remainder of the ride was silent and the couple chose to get off the ride after the first go-around. The blond meekly nodded his head in Taehyun’s direction and your boy gently returned the gesture with a shy, caring smile. 

As soon as they were out of earshot, you both broke into a fit of laughter, “Oh my God! He was totally copying you, that’s adorable!”

Taehyun gushed, “They both were so flustered! Too cute.”

You both spent the next go-around giggling, conversing about nothing, and sharing sweet, longing gazes. The carnival beneath you slowly began shutting down, each area turning their lighting off one by one. You kept your hand laced with his and while you glanced down the dying fair, he lovingly gazed at you. 

“I guess that’s our cue to leave.” You gestured below. He trained his gaze to the lack of vivid lighting around the carnival and sighed, “Yeah, I guess so.”

He squeezed your hand tighter. You didn’t want to part from him so soon and he shared your exact sentiment. 

· ──────────────────── ·

As Taehyun pulled into your driveway, you instantly spotted Kai’s silhouette lurking in your bedroom window.

“Jesus Christ,” you grumbled.

Kai had spent his night waiting for you to come home, eager to hear your nightmarish tale. He planned to head to his house and simply wait for your inevitable call, but when he left to grab takeout, he found himself straying back to your house. Your mother must’ve let him in, granted he was also gifted a key and he used it regularly. Your mind suddenly short-circuited by the feeling of Taehyun’s hand atop your own. If you noticed his tremble and clamminess, you didn’t mention it. 

He cleared his throat, “Let me walk you to your door.”

You sheepishly nodded, anxious to speak. If yesterday, someone had told you you would be this shy at the end of the night, you would’ve laughed in their face. He rushed to open your door and you let him, much to his surprise, without any snarky remark. The short distance to your front door didn’t stop him from holding your hand, leaving you a giggly, flustered mess.

You could practically feel Kai’s smirk. 

Taehyun stood awkwardly, frequently shifting his weight, while you nervously picked at your fingernail, both waiting for the other to break the silence. He took the first leap of faith, “I had a great time tonight, I hope you did too.”

You were too focused on his calloused thumb tracing soothing circles along the back of your hand, making you lose your train of thought, “Yeah! Yes! So fun!”

You winced at your overly enthusiastic response. The luminous light, hanging haphazardly above you did little to hide your anxiousness. He chuckled softly, glad he wasn’t the only nervous one, “That’s good to hear.”

“I’m sorry you nearly threw up.” You both cringed at the recent memory. He squeezed your hand reassuringly, “Don’t worry. Weirdly, that’s not the worst thing to happen to me on a date.”

You tilted your head curiously, you wished to hear his story. Frankly, you found yourself wishing to hear everything about him, but before anything, you needed to get some stuff off your own chest. “I’m also sorry about other stuff. I have more to apologize than you, even before the incident, I was always so abrasive and mean, and I want to apologize for that. And, I, uh, also kind of broke into your house… so obviously I’m sorry about that too. Not to mention, I thin—” 

He placed his hand on your cheek and caressed softly, making you quiet. “It’s water under the bridge.”

You shyly smiled, looking away from his adoring gaze. He tried mustering up a cheesy line but he found himself losing focus, his eyes constantly straying to your lips; he couldn’t help it, he really wanted to kiss you. He sucked in a deep breath, gathering the courage to just do it, even though he knew you’d likely reject his advance. After all, it was just the first date and you only forgave him three hours ago.

Not to mention, Kai stole your phone to get Taehyun’s number just to inform him of your strict no-kiss policy.

He hesitantly brushed your hair behind your ear before leaning in slowly, his plush, attractive lips easily tempting you. Unfortunately for him, you kept to your rule. You splayed your hand across his chest before pushing him back gently, “Nice try, Romeo.”

He wasn’t surprised, it was a long shot anyways. He’d just regret it if he didn’t try. He nodded understandingly before leaning in once more, this time to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. You couldn’t hide the obvious blush that dusted your cheeks, making him grin. Maybe you weren’t as tough as you liked to seem. 

He felt hopeful.

“So for our next date, I was thinking mini golf,” he said enthusiastically. His eyes sparkled with excitement; he seemed thrilled, you couldn’t help but giggle, “Easy there tiger, I don’t recall ever saying anything about a second date.”

He leaned in to plant a kiss on your cheek, pulling away only slightly to whisper, “I think I’ll be getting another date.”

He was right. He was definitely getting another date… and maybe, just maybe, you’d break your no-kiss rule.

[art-i-know-yes]

Ok. I have to.

It's almost midnight and I've been putting it off. Episode 60 of DnDaddies. I'm extremely nervous SO I'm doing a reactions through the episode again because it makes me feel better.

LOTS OF SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 60

I'msoscaredI'msoscaredI'msoscared

PROJECT RUNWAY

"We're trying to support Glenn right now"

THE PODCAST IS NO LONGER GONNA BE FUNNY :´[

"I love crying" vibes

Oh GOD "Pretend to be Willy"

"Got'em"

"Comma baby"

Darryl with the will and testament

NOBODY WANTS TO GO TO HIM

I cAn't with TJ and Ron I'm so close to absolutely sobbing

"Oh-ou you're so mean to yourself"

"First of all, kill him"

"I've been you're rock and you've...been around"

Uuggdfhktxkgur "You can take a discount"

"17+14" EXCUSE ME FREDDIE

"Everything is going to be O-A-K" no it won't

Grant. Graaaaaant. Poor baby.

Blushes in frog

I swear to god if Ron's anchor is ACTUALLY an anchor

"Under GOoOOOoOD"

Nick Jr. IS a commander

"THIS GUY"

Why is no-one in the cabin? Willy is so watching them

"That's healthy,ok"

The 2 most emotionally stable

Wow ad change

I'm actually listening to the ad break because I. am. scared.

"Seems safe"

Natural 20 and a 3 "Things are looking good for me"

PW;ILU wtf a code?

"I love you" So most definitely not anything to do with Ron

IDIOT WHY WHY DARRYL

"Ron's inside" why in the f c k. I'm crying. I'm scared.

Why is he so kdrudfkitxzdhskd caaallmmm?

The literal beginning of the episode was like Willy's not going to be chill, so why is he chill

Oh closing portal thing, that's why he's chill

"I'm proud of you" "You are?" "No, it's saying. Calm down, jeez" difzfjxifihtdsgf

So mean to Rooooon

Glenn's pun nearly BROKE ME

De-birds to high five

Anthony why are you asking for his health

"I'm dying happy baby! I'll see my son in hell btch!" I cAn't in every way

POWER WORD: KILL NOOOOOO 100 HP OR LESS

Of cOurse stealing a piece of his fish STOPS HIM

"You gonna finish that" t-the panic in Ron's voice I can't form words. I'm BABBLING like a CHILD

excuse me the BONES

Ron really did that to save Glenn

I love that taking his fish is AGGRESSIVE

"Ok ok cool thanks" everything is not ok cool thanks it is the exAct opposite of that

Smort smaarrttt Henry

Brave brave Henry

"I can see why Barry tolerates you" woooooooooooowwww

We love ruining Willy's lead-ups!

"God, spoilers!"

This. This is why Darryl can't have things.

"Are you ready to see what's in the box?" No. Of course not. But I bet it's empty because of the connection is just hrmph because like what would resemble that

There's about a trillion other questions I would've asked. We'll see what's in the box eventually

I have paused the podcast and made an oc

"You hate that he is hot" "RIP to you but I'm different"

Ya know what I just noticed Willy is actually spelled with an 'ie' Willie. Gonna be honest makes him less threatening

Someone's STAALLLIIIINNNNGGGGG

I .F U K I N. KNEW IT WAS GONNA BE EMPTY

I've officially stopped breathing.

Love that Ron is standing up to Willie

If he was a mistake WHY'D YA KEEP HIM

That was pure emotion in his voice. Why is Beth so good because I'm gonna cry

"Aww kiddo" get away from me your existence disgusts me

Why is it his mind. Ok so we didn't have to face Willy

Wait in the episode where they figure out it was their dads it's spelled 'Willy' the description of this episode it's spelled 'Willie'

"Ronald, Ronald, Ronald" disgusting

UGLY STEPCHILD TF

Btch gets his daddy magic from Ron's despair

Of course fcker isn't actually there

Love Darryl and Henry just ranting at Willy

"Terry loves you" I started laughing

"Ron, he's the fcking dirt that you grew out of!" *snap snap snap*

"I'm a god"

Them talking over Willy is getting me through this also love how it turned into love Ron hours

But the btch did almost powerword kill Glenn if it wasn't for a fuuuuuuking fish

"We were talking Willy" I love that

"Can't even think of something mean to say" Daaaaarryyyyl

DID HE FCKING SAY SEACREST OUUUUT I CAAAAAANT

I'm glad they didn't actually have to fight Willy. Doesn't make me any less stressed about this.

"Noooww you're makin sense Ron" goddamit Glenn

"Wanna burn this cabin down" "I'm gonna go burn some stuff" he's not doing well

"Have him punch a rock and maybe that'll remind him of me" jehesuz chRRIISSTT

"I don't know how healthy that is" it isn't.

"A really sad magic school bus episode that's a metaphor for abuse" jesus chRist

:´( he couldn't even get it ouuuut

"Oh god Vince we gotta put a bell on you or something"

"404 dimensions" "I don't even know how to respond to that"

Oh so it IS gonna be a magical school bus episode

I wonder if Ron will be able to talk to them in his brain. Also I really don't think ANY of the kids should go into Ron's brain

God I love Erin

Life lesson: get good and all your problems are solved

Gamer joke? "um sorry I'm a woman" love Beth

I have mixed feelings on going into Ron's brain

And I still can't believe Willy nearly broke Ron's wrist over a FISH.

Sorry it's really long again and I'm relieved and uhhhh the rest of the emotions I can't decipher. Still wish to bop Willy like a bop-it and FCK I'm still scared and it's now 2 am.

[kettle-on]

This one did not go as well as I hoped, but then I always think that when I'm about to post a chapter.

If I knew how to write it, there could be optional smut at the end of this one, but I have zero confidence (or imagination) when it comes to that, so apologies but no, there's none here.

You'll just hafta make it up yourselves

(Still, this chapter does have one of my favourite little bits so far!)

attn: @jessm78 @coincidence-ithinknots-blog

Previous Chapter

Chapter 6

“There’s something almost kingly about waking up alone,” declared John Cleese as he and Eric made their way to the morning room to start the day’s work. They had both set out early, Eric having slept quite poorly, perched atop his typewriter, and John unusually well-rested.

“The peace and privacy and space,” he continued, “Yes, I think it sets one up rather well for the day.”

“If you say so,” Eric abided with a small smile.

Before recently, Eric’s preference was to fall asleep with a girl beside him and by the time he’d wake up in the morning, she would be long gone. Thus went the final years of his previous marriage, rocky and uncommitted – his “asshole years” as he’d come to refer to them. As all things tend to do, marriage seemed like the right idea at the time, but the seductive adventure of fame was more than Eric had bargained for.

“How are things with you and Connie, anyway?” he asked his now strutting friend.

In fact, none of the visitors had seen any sign of John’s wife Connie Booth for months. The two had never been particularly candid about their relationship, but other than seeing her on the television in late-night repeats of Fawlty Towers (of which plans for a second series were now rumoured), she remained mostly unseen.

“I’m not going to talk about it,” said John with finality.

“Oh come on, John.”

“No. I’m not going to,” he repeated, stroking his mustache.

“Not even to advise your old pal?”

They had reached their destined room, and John set to work immediately rearranging the cushions on the sofas and armchairs.

“Eric, you’ve just spent Christmas in the West Indies with a beautiful woman. You don’t need my advice.”

“I just don’t want to mess up again,” Eric confessed heavily, plopping his curled copy of the script onto an end table. “All the shit from before. Is it really worth going through that again?”

“Why? God! Don’t tell me you’re marrying Lyn again,”

“No! No, obviously I mean Y/N.”

“And? She’s a very nice girl, so what’s the problem now?”

Eric was baffled, and searched his hands for an answer.

“Eric, every relationship is a new start,” John began, suddenly soulful. “Every marriage is a new set of conditions and variables. You know that. Y/N comes with entirely different features and functions, and even you - you’re different to what you were before. You’ll be different every time. Except for some things, of course. You’ll always be an ugly, greedy bastard with a smart mouth and no sense of occasion.”

“Cheers,”

“But you’ve come a long way - I’ll say that for you. Anyway, what does Y/N have to say?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it.”

Raising his eyebrows and lowering his chin, John gave Eric his famously unimpressed face, “Well that’s your first problem. I can’t imagine what’s stopping you.”

“Can’t you?” asked Eric, looking up from under his fringe.

Against the wishes of the house staff, lunch was taken later in the day (“teatime” as Terry Jones insisted) on a folding picnic table on one of the many lawn areas around the lot. With the addition of a cotton table cloth and wooden bench seating, Mr. Brown the butler couldn’t refrain from voicing his distaste. Eric and Michael doubled up with charm to convince him to leave it be.

“See how nice it looks with the rhododendrons all around us!” Michael demonstrated.

“Yes, and you needn’t worry about the table cloth; I’ve pulled it off the bed,” added Eric in jest before abandoning Mr. Brown altogether, and they strutted arm-in-arm across the grass to join the others at the table.

Their camaraderie extended even as far as the last piece of fresh olive bread left in the basket. Sat side by side, Eric and Michael were mirror images, their arms reaching into the basket in the middle of the table, when their knuckles collided.

“Oh! Sorry - ”

“Sorry - ”

“You have it.”

“No no, please. Take it.”

“No, I’m fine. It’s yours.”

“Well, only if you don’t want it.”

“I do want it, but only if you’d rather not.”

“Oh, you have it then.”

“Don’t you want it?”

“Yes, but you - ”

They were cut short by Terry Gilliam’s arm of God reaching between them, grabbing the piece of bread, and aggressively gobbling it up.

Afternoon chat was considerably more relaxed and domestic than evening party topics. At this time of day, rockstars and millionaires turned into normal people who were content to discuss the shapes of teabags, and revisit childhood moments of blowing on a blade of grass between their thumbs to make it whistle.

Y/N felt most at ease here. She shifted slightly and propped her feet up on the bench opposite, next to Eric’s side, the table cloth gently covering her toes. Before long, she felt the familiar comfort of fingers around her ankles. Eric was always dutiful to show he was never out of reach.

He was already looking at her when she raised her gaze to him, and his smile grew. From time to time, they’d share a moment like this one - at home in each other’s eyes, unspoken declarations of attraction, of love and affection.

“What are you trying to send that’s costing you 8 dollars?” Eric’s voice cut their silent exchange as he cordially re-entered the table conversation.

Terry Jones seemed to be unsure as to how shocked he ought to be at a recent postal charge.

“Why not just hang on to it and take it back with you – it’s only another ten days,” suggested Eric.

“Well I’m hoping I’ll manage to forget about it, and it’ll be great surprise when I get home,” Terry just about managed to explain before his conviction crumbled into resigned chuckles.

Before long, plates emptied and glasses were refilled from water jugs and wine bottles. Across the table, Eric and Y/N’s eyes met again, exchanging a look of “let’s go be alone somewhere.”

Laying a small paper down on the table, Eric began to manufacture an expertly rolled spliff, and only then did Y/N notice… both of his hands were occupied, and yet her ankle was still being stroked. Shifting her eyes, she caught sight of Michael, peering over his glass at her with impatient eyes, his other hand out of sight. Noticing he’d been found out at last, he lifted his head in exaggerated confusion, darting around and attempting to look elsewhere. Despite herself, Y/N stifled a giggle.

“Coming?” Eric asked softly with a smile as he rose from the bench, and Y/N quickly withdrew her now tingling ankles.

The grounds at Heron Bay included paths perfect for meandering afternoon strolls without straying very far from the main house. This afternoon, Eric and Y/N chose the garden route, passing a tidy swimming pool, and over a small bridge toward the far end of the beach. Clasping hands, their arms swung gently between them as they walked.

“I wonder if I’ve taken enough photos of this place yet.” said Y/N when they stepped off of the bridge. “I don’t ever want to forget how beautiful it is, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to remember all the details.”

“We can always come back, you know,” said Eric. “I wouldn’t pass up another few weeks.

“What about you?” he asked and gently pulled her toward him, wrapping an arm around her back as if they were to start dancing. “Are you having a wonderful time?”

“Wonderful!” replied Y/N with a wide smile.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm!”

“You sure?”

His tone was not doubtful, but the slight furrowing of his gentle eyebrows showed concern. But what was he getting at? Was she not convincing?

“Well I… I guess I’m not really used to being away from home for so long. Especially not somewhere with table service, and a tennis court, and dinner with The Rolling Stones. It’s, um… it’s a lot. But it’s wonderful!”

They continued their stroll along the beach hand-in-hand as before. The mood was once again slow and easy and peaceful, though Eric seemed ever so slightly more pensive – a typical development when “partaking in grass,” as he liked to describe it.

“Have you been talking to Michael?” he asked suddenly.

“Michael?” Y/N repeated.

“He’s great with this sort of thing.”

What sort of thing? she wanted to ask. She still felt uneasy asking Eric to repeat himself or clarify something, as if querying him was proof that they were somehow not in sync like he believed they were. But hadn’t they just had a moment of silent connection earlier?

Stupid, silly girl. She smartened up. Just speak. But just as she opened her mouth, Eric spoke again.

“So have you fallen in love with him yet?”

“What?” Y/N was breathless.

“Everyone falls in love with Mike Palin at some point,” he explained with one of his cheekier smiles.

“I uh...” she faltered, whether from the suggestion or from Eric’s grin, she wasn’t sure. “I don’t think so, no.”

Eric took a long pull on his gradually disappearing joint and nodded.

“Give it time,” he said with confidence. “You’ll see.”

They soon came across a small secluded bower, lightly shaded by swaying trees that dotted the coastline. Here they would pause for a while, away from disturbance, with only the ocean to meet them.

Y/N sat between Eric’s long legs, his arms at either side of her, resting on his knees. She leaned back into his warm chest and he kissed her ear. It seemed like a long time since they had last been alone together – work on the film script had taken over the day time, and famous visitors kept their nights busy and bustling. Y/N pondered the photos she had already taken, and how even the best ones couldn’t capture this current bliss: the warmth of the sun and the ground, the waves hushing in the near distance, the earthy and fiery smell from Eric’s quality cannabis, and his long and loving limbs around her.

After several minutes of comforting silence, Eric spoke:

“So,” he blew out quickly, “what do you think about getting married?”

Y/N turned on her spot to look at him, feeling her heartbeat quicken.

“I think you’re a little too stoned to be proposing right now.”

“I don’t mea-…” he began, cutting himself off with laughter. “I’m not proposing, I just wanted to know your thoughts on it. I guess Ricky and Penny got me thinking, and… and I was just… thinking.”

Y/N kept a focus on him. He wasn’t used to stumbling over words, but now… what was she going to say?

“And I’m not stoned,” he managed to get out through breathy nervous laughter.

“Well, I think…” Y/N turned her gaze to the surrounding trees, and tried to consider her words carefully.

“I think a lot of people these days do it for the wrong reasons, or they think they have to. I look around and see so many marriages falling apart that it kind of takes the romance out of it.”

Eric gave another few nods as he took a final drag.

“If I get married,” said Y/N, “I’m going to have to really want to stay together, y’know? And not just give up when something gets tough. Otherwise what’s the point?”

“Well, there’s money,” suggested Eric sarcastically, and he stubbed out the remains of his joint on a nearby rock.

“Money…” Y/N repeated. She slowly turned to face him again.

“Yeah, marry for money, and then split with a nice settlement.”

“What a great idea,” she said, meeting his hazy expression.

“You think so?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed, and her lips hovered above his. “Sounds sleazy. I like it.”

“Yeah, it suits you.”

They kissed slowly, with no rush or anticipation. Herbal sweetness lingered on Eric’s lips, and Y/N delighted in their soft encouragement.

“Hmm. So, how much money you got?” she asked with pretend seriousness, back to playing the game after their make out.

“Well…” he began. He spoke slowly but animated. “I’ve got… ninety-thousand pounds… in my pyjamas.”

“Oh yeah?” She knew where this was going.

“And I’ve got forty thousand French francs in my fridge…”

“Oh no,” she groaned and dropped her head onto his bony chest. Eric was infamous for bursting into song, particularly ones he was quite proud of having performed for Python.

“There is nothing quite as wonderful as money -,” he began the silly song, bouncing his knees and shoulders as he sang, and snaking his arms around her waist.

“Fuck off, you capitalist!” Y/N protested, though she couldn’t help her laughter.

She was only just able to silence him with kisses, but their shared laughter continued as they lay on the soft ground, rolled over together, and made themselves more comfortable for an afternoon romp.

[lia-jones]

Growing Together - Chapter Twenty-Two - Goodbye Is a Silent Word (Part One)

Author's note: So sorry for the no-show! I just got a new job and training was exhausting, and it was hard to keep up with the writing. Hopefully, everything will normalize now! I hope you enjoy, and if you can write me a line, it always makes my day! Lots of love!

Things moved swiftly after we received the terrible news of Mina’s passing. As expected, after the initial shock, Victor quickly assumed his focused, hands-on demeanor and in less than an hour, we had picked Owen up from school, gone to the apartment to speedily pack our bags, and got in the car to go to Terry’s ranch, where we would spend the next two days, preparing for Mina’s final goodbye.

The drive was tense, to say the least. Victor and I had yet to say a word about our previous argument, so it felt like all the accusations, all the anguish and potential apologetic words were buzzing between us, wanting to be heard, yet superseded by the noisy chaos of the recent events.

Victor was silent, seemingly calm, focused on the road ahead. It took a wife’s keen eye to notice by his posture that there was tension on his shoulders, and that although his eyes seemed focused on the road, I could see the struggle in them, telling me he was weathering an emotional storm.

Understandably, Victor was in a fragile place, so I decided to forget about our fight and the unresolved issues between us, at least for the time being, and simply be there for him in whatever way he needed me to be.

Mina’s death seemed to affect my son as well, despite having only met her a few times. He was unusually silent, kept within himself, his mind busy with thoughts that I didn’t know but worried me.

“Terry’s organizing Mia’s funeral?” I decided to break the silence, as I felt it suffocating me.

Victor let out a long exhale.

“I am.” He finally spoke after a long moment. “I already spoke with Terry, I’m taking care of everything.”

“Have you spoken to any of Mina’s relatives?” I suggested. “We should call her family before making any major decisions. Maybe there are traditions they want to see followed.”

“We are her family.” He answered in a low voice. “She had no one else.”

For a moment, I could swear I heard a twinge of guilt in his tone. There was a glint of sadness in his eyes, lasting but a second, only to be replaced with his well-known poker face. I kicked myself internally for bringing the subject up. I felt like holding his hand, telling him that he did the best that he could, he couldn’t have known, he shouldn’t feel guilty. But given the circumstances, and how evasive Victor was being, I wasn’t sure if my gesture would be well received. I decided to refrain from reaching out, waiting for him to come to me when he felt ready.

“Do you think dying hurts?” Owen spoke from the backseat, diverting my thoughts.

I froze, not really knowing how to answer his question. By my side, Victor tensed, his grip on the wheel tightening even more.

“I don’t know, Bug. I guess it depends on how one dies.” I tried to close the subject.

“Do you think Mina hurt?” He looked at me with inquisitive eyes.

“No, I don’t think she did.” I lowered my voice as if whispering my answer would be less painful for Victor.

“What about my mother?” He asked again. “Does killing yourself hurt?”

My heart sank with sadness, seeing my son, at such a tender age, already considering things like death and the loss of a loved one.

“I wouldn’t know. I hope it doesn’t.” I gave him a tender look.

“Do you think there is a Heaven?” He kept going, this time not even pausing to get an answer. “Do you think Mina went to Heaven? Do you think my mother is there? Miss Dillon says hurting yourself is a sin, do you think God forgave her? And if He didn’t, where do you think she is now? Do you think Mina can tell her I’m alright? Do you think they can see us from-”

“Enough!” Victor roared inside the car, making both me and Owen jump. After a sharp, deep breath, he continued in a flat tone. “Can we please make the rest of the trip in silence?”

“Maybe we could talk about it later, ok, Bug?” I reached back, squeezing his knee, trying to soften the blow of Victor’s outburst.

Silence fell between us, pregnant with words that wouldn’t be uttered. Owen, however, seemed to have more to say.

“I’m sorry Mina died, Dad.”

Victor’s face contracted in a very brief grimace. He felt guilty for yelling, I could tell.

“Yes.”

Victor’s expression swiftly shifted back to his characteristic emotionless one. And I could swear that, at that moment, I could see him diligently rebuilding those unbreakable walls, the ones he surrounded his heart with, the ones that protected the sensitive and fragile side of him from the rest of the world. Only this time I felt I was being kept out as well.

The iron gates that led to Terry’s ranch, the same we had seen covered in flowers and lights nearly a year ago, were now adorned by a black ribbon tied in a single knot, signaling the death of a loved one in the house. As they opened wide and we passed that threshold, we all felt the weight of that new reality: a life without Mina.

Mina was not someone we saw very often or that would take much time in our lives, but when she was present, she filled them with love. She was wise and kind, with an assertiveness that wasn’t imposing, but welcome, just like a bright sun entering a room, warm and cozy, staving away the darkness. And now that she was gone, all the space she filled now vacant, I couldn’t help but think of all the things that we would miss about her.

We would no longer be greeted by her bright smile and warm hands holding ours, and I would never see again the tender gaze she had for Victor, and how he responded in kind, with a calm welcoming expression he saved for her alone. I would no longer feel the warmth of how much she seemed to dote on him, always surprising us with his favorite foods or a box full of taffy, and calling him Hummingbird, although he insisted on being called by his name. I would no longer feel the occasional hand squeezing my shoulder, usually when we were alone, her way of approving of me and the way I loved her boy.

“You will stay with Owen at the ranch while I take care of the funeral arrangements.” Victor stated as he stopped the car in front of the mansion.

“No, I want to go with you.” I declared. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

Victor let out another long tired sigh. When he finally opened his mouth to retort, he was interrupted by Terry tapping on his window. He rolled it down.

“Come inside, already.” She smiled widely, although I could see the sadness in her eyes. “The food will get cold.”

“We assumed you guys skipped lunch, so we prepared a meal for you.” Susan welcomed us, as we entered the mansion.

“Nothing too fancy, just some soup.” Terry chimed in. “I’m not much of a cook, most of the cooking was done by-”

“Do you have the documents?” Victor interrupted, still standing by the door, clearly uninterested by small talk at the moment.

“They are in the study waiting for you as I promised.” Terry walked to Victor and took his arm, pulling him inside. “But now it’s time to eat. It won’t do you any good to go through today on an empty stomach. Besides, your son wants to eat, right, Owen?”

“Right.” Owen almost whispered, his expression still a sullen one.

“Are you sad, sweetheart?” Terry came closer to Owen, ruffling his curls. “No long faces, Mina wouldn’t want that. She wanted all of us to be happy, and live long and fulfilling lives. That’s how she would want to be honored. Now, let’s all eat and spend time as a family.” She waved at us to come inside the kitchen.

Victor turned away, excusing himself, as Owen and I sat at the table.

“Do you mind staying with Aunt Terry while Dad and I are away?” I squeezed the boy’s shoulder lovingly.

“Of course he won’t mind!” Terry made a face at him, making him laugh. “Susan can use some extra help in the stables. Will you help her take care of the horses?”

“Can I?” Owen’s face lit up.

Before any of us could answer, we heard the sound of an engine starting outside.

“Is Victor leaving?” Terry got up from her seat.

Without much thought, I ran outside, not believing he would leave without me. Sure enough, Victor was in his sedan pulling away. Noticing my presence by the front door, he paused his departure for a moment, catching my glance. The pain in his eyes was unbearable for me to watch, and I lowered my gaze. A second later, he started moving again, leaving in a hurry, a cloud of dust billowing up behind him.

“He took the documents from the study.” Terry came by my side. “He must have gone to the morgue.”

I stood at the door for a moment, considering Victor’s actions. Clearly, there wouldn’t be a chance for reconciliation in the near future, since he didn’t even want me around.

“The food is getting cold.” Terry grabbed my arm, a knowing look on her face.

I couldn’t say a word after, lost in my own thoughts, playing with my food. At least Owen was doing much better than I was, the prospect of playing with the horses distracting him from his father’s mood and sudden absence. Truth was, in a blink of an eye, I felt like I had lost my footing. Victor and I had fought before, and some of those fights were incredibly ugly, but never have I ever felt so distant from him. Never had he deliberately walked away from me. That was more painful than any nasty words he could ever say to me.

Susan took Owen to the stables after lunch, while I stayed behind with Terry, helping her clean the kitchen. Again, we worked in silence, Terry probably remembering Mina going on and about in her duties, while I was wondering how Victor was, if he missed me by his side, if I should call to check up on him.

“This is the last one.” I declared, putting away the last clean plate. “Do you need my help with anything else?”

“I’m so glad you asked.” She laughed with relief. “Follow me.”

We entered Mina’s room like it was a temple, silently and respectfully. The room was large, humbly yet tastefully decorated. Over the antique dresser, nothing but a vase with some dried flowers and a book. It was amazing how the whole room spoke of Mina. It was simple and modest, but it had a cozy and loving energy, just like her: a silent yet powerful tenderness.

“Susan was supposed to help me with this, but it’s best that she stays with Owen. And I didn’t want to ask Victor. It would be too painful for him.” Terry apologized, opening one of the drawers. “We need to find something suitable for Mina to wear.”

Silently, Terry and I went through Mina’s clothes, taking several items out. Terry took a box out of the wardrobe, sitting on the bed with a ragged sigh as she opened it.

“Victor should have this.” She handed it to me.

It was a simple shoebox lined with wrapping paper, but inside there was a treasure. There were many little objects: a children’s uniform tie, a Rubik’s cube, a pair of baby socks. The rest of the box was filled with pictures of Victor throughout the years, and newspaper cuttings from articles about him since he started LFG. It was the kind of thing a mother would have. My mother had the same things for me and my brother. I gave Mina a silent thank you for loving my husband so well over all these years.

“When my sister-in-law left to live in Paris, Victor was in a pretty bad state.” Terry commented, as she took the small tie from the box. “I never understood how she could leave Victor behind like that, especially knowing my brother and how he always treated his son. It always got to me how Victor idolized her, still does, and she never deserved any of his love. Mina was his real mother.”

She handed me the tie, and for a moment I could picture my husband as a child, poised and oddly mature, wearing that uniform. And I wondered if he had his poker face even then, or if he had sadness in his eyes, the same emotion he now hid, at that time so perfectly open and visible to the outside world.

“Mina would ask him to help her in the kitchen, and they would talk for hours on end, as they peeled potatoes, or baked a cake. She was his biggest support in that cold house. Until Greg decided his son was spending too much time with the help.” Terry let out a bitter laugh. “God forbid he would let that boy have something good in his life.”

“What did he do?”

“One morning, he simply told Mina to pack her bags and leave immediately. Victor begged his father to let her stay, but Mina decided it would be best to leave, and not make any more trouble for the boy. She ended up at my doorstep, asking for a place to stay while she looked for another job.”

“And she stayed ever since.” I smiled at Terry, my heart full of love for her.

“I hired her on the spot, knowing how much that would mean to Victor. And she became my family.”

I looked at the room again, her presence feeling so much stronger now. She was so simple, so humble, yet she could take so much room in one’s heart.

“Don’t take Victor’s actions too seriously. He needs time to wrap his head around this. You must know as well as I do that he isn’t very good at dealing with his own emotions.” Terry squeezed my arm.

My eyes immediately filled with tears, all the painful recent events coming to mind.

“No, it’s that… Things are not well, Terry.” It hurt to talk, my throat suddenly feeling incredibly tight. “We had an ugly fight today, that’s probably why he is avoiding me. Owen’s grandmother showed up and filed for custody, we are at risk of losing him... It’s been stressful.”

“Dear God, Andrea! No wonder both of you look so stressed.”

“And now he is cold, and he doesn’t want me near him. And I feel like I’m losing it all, everything is slipping from my hands…” I sobbed in desperation. “I don’t know what to do. I’m so sorry for breaking down like this.”

“No need to be sorry, we are family.” She stroked my back soothingly, as I let out the tears I had been holding all this time. “I understand how you would feel that way, but I know my nephew and I know you. First of all, it’s Victor, that woman does not stand a chance. He will not let his son go due to anything in this world, of that I am certain. And second of all, Victor adores you. In no time, he will be here with us, fussing over you like he always does. You love each other, I’m sure you will work it out.”

Looking at the bigger picture, Terry was probably right. We were going through a stressful time, and we just had a fight, as many couples do. From the point of view of the observer, we had been tried and tested many times before, and we always stood strong, no matter how much we swayed. But I knew Victor, and I knew this wasn’t just a lovers’ quarrel to him. He never let himself feel too much, but when he did, he felt deeply. I had gone against his plans, questioned his decisions, when he was trying his best for our family. Maybe he was right to be angry at me. I should have been more supportive. But I also couldn’t ignore what my heart was telling me.

After we picked the outfit for Mina, Terry went to the study to make some work-related phone calls, leaving me to my own devices. I was tired of thinking about the past few days, overanalyzing each one of my and Victor’s words, so I decided to go to the living room and read something while I waited for Owen to return from the stables. Or Victor. And that’s when I saw it.

The piano must have felt lonely in that living room, looking like it hadn't been touched in decades. I sat on the stool and opened the lid, my finger running over the keys without pressing them; a greeting of sorts. For a moment, I wondered why there would even be a piano in Terry’s house, since it was evident that nobody played it, but then it hit me: it must have belonged to Victor’s mother. Victor’s parents owned the property for a while, so they probably left it behind.

“You can play it, it’s tuned.” Terry spoke from the hall.

“I don’t want to be disrespectful.” I said as I slowly closed the lid.

“It’s actually very fitting. Mina loved when my sister-in-law played it.” Terry smiled, coming close to me to open the lid again. “That gives me an idea. Would you play some music at the funeral?”

How could I refuse?

“What do you want me to play?”

“There is one that Mina liked in particular, I don’t know which.” Terry went to the bookshelf, retrieving an old leather folder. “But I have some scores here, see if there is something appropriate.”

I took the folder from her hands, opening it. On top of the first sheet of music, I could read the title Serenade, by Schubert, Listz’s arrangement.

It wasn’t a hard piece to play I had learned it around the age of eleven. It took me a while to get reacquainted with the melody, but after a few strokes of the keys, it became second nature all over again, allowing me to submerge deeply into the music, letting feeling take over, so much that I didn’t even notice Terry leaving the room. At that moment, I was a lover serenading someone, and my beloved responded in kind with the higher notes, telling me my love was reciprocated.

A hand came from behind me, pressing on my dancing ones, a dissonant chord echoing in the living room. It was Victor, a shadow in his eyes I had never seen before.

“Not this one.” He declared in a tired tone.

“Terry asked me to play for Mina’s funeral.” I hurried to answer, almost scared he would scold me. “I assumed it was her favorite one.”

Without a word, Victor took the leather folder, skimming through it. He handed me a few sheets of paper. The title read Reverie - Debussy.

“This one.” He declared as he turned to leave.

“How did it go?” I spoke before he disappeared again. “You left without me.”

Victor stood without a word, his eyes on the ground, not daring to look at me. The clench of his jaw told me he was deciding to ignore me yet again.

“Dad! Dad!” We heard Owen run towards us. “Susan let me feed the horses! And Onyx was so cool, he did one of those tricks you taught him.” Owen jumped with excitement to Victor, arms up, expecting his father to pick him up like he always did.

“Right.” Victor muttered, ignoring Owen’s silent request and leaving the room.

I couldn’t react for a moment, seeing how my husband, the most loving father I had ever seen apart from my own, was acting towards our son. This wasn’t the Victor I knew. This was someone else entirely.

“Why is he mad at me?” Owen’s voice trembled. My heart broke as my eyes landed on my son: he looked like the scared little boy we had picked from the orphanage, small and fragile, his shoulders slouched and his head down, afraid of making the slightest movement.

“Come here, Bug.” I opened my arms and he ran into them, taking refuge in my embrace. “Dad is not mad at you, he’s just sad. Some people show sadness by crying, your father gets weird like this.”

“Just like when he looked scary but just wanted to be my friend?” Owen spoke against my chest.

“Exactly like that.” I stroked his red curls. “Your father will always love you, as I will. You’re just too adorable.” I tickled his ribs, making him giggle.

“Can I watch you play?” He gave me that honest and bright smile of his, comforting my heart.

“Not until you do a scale with me.” I pretended to scold him. “You won’t be able to progress if you don’t practice, Mister.”

After practicing the scale for a few moments, I turned my attention to the score Victor had given me. I almost didn’t need the score for this one, I knew it by heart, my teacher was a big admirer of Debussy. I started playing the song, putting my entire soul in it, reliving my teacher’s expressions as my fingers brought the music to life.

And then I noticed it in the reflection on the piano’s reflective varnished wood, above the keys. The sunset had revealed him, standing by the doorway, secretly listening to me play, his head down. I didn’t look back or acknowledge his presence. Instead, I put all my love into those notes, hoping it would soothe his heart, would bring him the comfort he wouldn’t allow me to express.

[littlespoonevan]

listen!!! ian/mickey/mandy was my original brot3 i had to bring her back!!!!! i hope you like it, bud :D <3

*

Mandy never used to believe that Ian and Mickey would last.

To be fair, the day she found out was also the day their relationship reached its first real breaking point. (Though a part of her remembers not feeling shocked at all, all the pieces – Ian seeing someone he refused to name, Ian overly concerned about Mickey’s wedding, Mickey always conveniently showing up whenever she and Ian were hanging out – suddenly falling into place.)

And she’d taken Ian’s side because- well, as far as she could see Mickey was fucking Ian over just so he could stay in the closet. She’d been wrong, obviously, though no one’s ever actually told her that directly. But there were enough context clues for her to more or less figure out what had happened – especially after the night of Yevgeny’s christening.

So she’d found out about them and she’d been around them and she knew, deep down, they loved each other. But to her it had always seemed like a doomed sort of love. In the way that love tends to be if you’re a Milkovich or a Gallagher.

She’d watched for about a year and a half as they’d clung to each other, desperately trying to make it work despite the world throwing every fucking problem it possibly could at them. And then one day it ended and she wasn’t in Chicago anymore and she still wishes she could’ve said she was surprised when she heard the news.

Time passed after that and she didn’t really talk much to either them but she hoped they’d move on. At least, she knew Ian was trying.

Then one day she’d gotten a phonecall from Beckman Correctional and Mickey was on the other line. (She’d known he’d escaped prison the first time – the cops had come knocking on her door too.) And it was strange talking to him after so long but nice too. In its own way. She’d nearly dropped the phone when he told her Ian was his cellmate.

(She’d heard about that too – Gay Jesus could still reach her even in Boston.)

After that Mickey started using his weekly phonecall to call her while Ian, with a much longer laundry list of relatives, started calling her once a month. It had been the most she’d spoken to either of them in years but she liked it – it made her feel connected to someone again, like her family hadn’t been totally obliterated.

She hadn’t planned on missing the wedding.

But part of getting her shit together meant not flaking on work responsibilities and she’d been roped into securing some account in Toronto with her boss and couldn’t get out of it. She’d managed to score a long weekend off a few weeks later though and promised she’d come visit then which had seemed to be enough to appease them both.

That’s how she finds herself standing on the steps of the Gallagher house on a Friday in February with an overnight bag on her shoulder.

Ian had insisted there’d be plenty of room for her here but she’ll believe that when she sees it. There’s always more people than there should be in this house. She hesitates for a moment, considering knocking but then feeling weird for even thinking it. No one knocks on the door to the Gallagher house. Testing the handle, she finds it unlocked and gently pushes it open.

The house is a lot quieter than it used to be and it throws her for a loop for a moment before she hears voices in the kitchen.

She steps further into the living room, pausing by the back of the couch when she catches sight of Ian and Mickey through the kitchen door. They’re…doing dishes. She thinks.

More specifically, they’re laughing as Ian replaces the glasses in the cabinet and Mickey idly spins a dishtowel in his hand.

“You’re so full of shit!” Mickey’s saying and the size of his grin momentarily leaves Mandy dumbstruck. She can’t even remember the last time Mickey smiled like that. Looking so…content and at ease and happy in own skin.

“I swear to god!” Ian exclaims, turning away from the cabinets and giving Mandy a clear view of the mischievous expression on his face as he holds in a laugh. “The guy’s dick was fuckin’ purple. Nastiest shit I’ve ever seen.”

Mickey makes a face before dropping the towel on the counter and taking the two steps it takes to put himself in Ian’s path. He cups Ian’s face between his hands and says, very solemnly, “You ever break my dick when we’re having sex and I’ll break your neck.”

Ian barks out a laugh and Mandy has to quickly bite her lip to stop a snort of her own as she watches Ian’s hands fit to her brother’s waist. “Pretty sure I’m the one who needs to worry about that,” he points out, expression light and amused as he quirks an eyebrow at Mickey’s reply.

He says it too quietly for Mandy to hear but whatever it is they’re kissing hardly a second later. She considers clearing her throat to make her presence known then because she knows what happens when Ian and Mickey start kissing when they’ve got the house to themselves but they break apart after a few seconds with matching grins. Ian looks up absentmindedly and his eyes land on her, his grin freezing on his face.

“Mandy!” he says, surprise and excitement colouring his voice. He lets his hands fall from Mickey’s waist just as Mickey turns to look at her.

She only has the briefest moment to share a look with him before Ian’s bounding over and sweeping her into a hug. “Hey,” he breathes, squeezing her tight. “Sorry, we didn’t hear you come in.”

Mandy hugs him back and instantly feels herself calm. Ian’s presence has always been comforting. She still remembers stealing whatever bit of affection she could from him when they were teenagers. When he dutifully let her call him her boyfriend even after it became very clear that was never gonna happen.

“It’s okay,” she says on a laugh. “You two looked busy.”

Ian leans back with a bashful expression, squeezing her shoulders before stepping out of the way so she can say hi to Mickey. There’s a single second where they both flounder as they stare at each other before Mickey’s pulling her into a hug and letting out a soft, “Hey.”

She doesn’t expect it but as she wraps her arms around Mickey’s shoulders she can’t help the feeling of déjà-vu that hits her, thinking back to the day she and Ian went to pick Mickey up from juvie. It’s a similar hug, light and familiar and comfortable, and it makes her smile.

In a lot of ways, they used to be normal siblings. They’d been the closest in age out of all their siblings and as the two youngest they sort of naturally fell into that dynamic of driving each other insane while also being willing to defend each other to the death.

Things got more complicated as they got older. Their words becoming sharper sometimes, their inability to help each other like they used to suddenly paralysing them both and making it difficult to know how to interact.

But this feels like before.

Mickey messes up her hair when she pulls away and, inexplicably, it makes a lump form in her throat. Fuck, it’s been so long since they could just joke with each other. But Mandy hasn’t had bruises on her face for years and Mickey has a wedding ring on his finger that he actually wants so maybe it’s time they can get back to that.

“You kept the blonde, huh?” Mickey says when he steps back and Mandy lifts her chin in a haughty smirk.

“Anything to stop people from saying I look like your ugly mug,” she retorts, slipping back into an old banter that comes to her without even thinking about it.

“Bitch,” Mickey grumbles but he’s smiling like he’s amused.

Ian’s hand lands on Mickey’s shoulder before his other reaches for Mandy. “Mands, drop your bag. We can talk in the kitchen.”

Mandy does as she’s told, letting Ian shepherd them both into the kitchen. She tries not to smirk at the fact Mickey doesn’t shrug Ian off this time, electing instead to wind his own arm around Ian’s waist.

They sit at the kitchen table as Ian goes to the fridge to inspect its contents. “You want a drink?” he asks over his shoulder. “We’ve got beer, milk, orange juice, soda, coffee-“

“Coffee sounds good,” she says. The flight hadn’t been all that long but travelling always wears her out a little.

“Mick?” Ian asks and Mickey considers him for just a second before saying, “Make one for me too.”

Mandy raises an eyebrow at him and he ducks his head, looking embarrassed. “’m tryna stop drinking beer before five o’clock.”

The laugh that comes out of her is a little disbelieving but she’s impressed. It’s rare to see Mickey actively trying to take care of himself.

Ian sets the coffee pot going and there’s a sort of awkward pause where none of them quite know what to say before she finally decides on the safest topic. “So tell me about the wedding.”

Mickey scoffs at the same time Ian laughs and she looks between them until Mickey says, “Long version or short version?”

And is that even a question. “Long,” she says decisively.

As Ian returns to the table with their coffees they regale her with the complicated events leading up to their wedding ceremony – including her dad burning their fucking venue down.

“Have you heard from him since?” she asks, feeling an old anxiety twist around her spine. She can’t say she’s missed Terry Milkovich since she’s been gone.

“Not since he shot up our fuckin’ honeymoon suite,” Mickey mutters and Mandy feels a pang of sympathy for them. It’s about fucking time the two of them just got to be happy with no strings attached.

Before she can say anything though Ian’s hand reaches out to grasp Mickey’s on the table-top and Mickey offers him a small, grateful smile. And it’s these little moments that keep shocking her, really. The causal ways they touch each other or look at each other. The way they keep picking up each other’s sentences as they tell the wedding story.

Everything about their relationship before had felt so life or death, these moments of just being were few and far between.

Eventually the conversation about the wedding winds down and Ian asks her about her job and it’s weird, the three of them having such a grown-up conversation, but every second word out of Mickey’s mouth is still “fuck” and Ian’s still got that puppy-dog grin he used to wear when he was fifteen so maybe things haven’t changed all that much.

Ian gets up when Liam comes home from school, following him up the stairs to help him move whatever he needs out of his bedroom and into Carl’s while Mandy stays over since, “Liam’s room is definitely the cleanest,” and Mandy watches Mickey watch Ian, a soft smile on his lips as he stares after Ian until he’s out of sight.

Mickey’s gaze returns to the table then but the smile is still there. After a second or two of silence Mandy kicks his leg under the table. Mickey’s gaze snaps up to stare at her. “What?”

She feels herself start to smile without actually planning to. “You’re really fucking happy now, huh?”

Mickey’s face goes blank with surprise before that bashful twist to his mouth comes back and he averts his gaze, shrugging once. “I guess.”

“Oh, you guess!” she scoffs, kicking him again. “Jesus Christ, Ian’s dick can’t be that great.”

Mickey smirks then. “Jealous you never got to find out for yourself?”

“Shut up, asshole,” she huffs, laughing in spite of herself. “I’m being serious.”

Mickey makes an incredulous noise and Mandy clears her throat, forcing herself to be sincere. “I mean it, Mick,” she says and his expression smooths out at the earnestness in her voice. “You two really figured shit out.”

Mickey doesn’t say anything for a moment before he breathes out a soft laugh. “I mean it was about fuckin’ time.”

Mandy grins. “No arguments there.”

Mickey looks like he’s about to say more when Ian’s footsteps suddenly sound on the staircase again. “What are you two talking about?” he asks, jogging down the last few steps.

“Just about how Mandy’s still jealous you had sex with me and not her,” Mickey says casually and Mandy lets out a choked noise, reaching over and punching Mickey’s arm as hard as she can.

Ian’s laughing as he comes to stand behind Mickey, hands settling on Mickey’s shoulders like they belong there and Mickey looks from him to Mandy with a shit-eating grin.

“Don’t worry, Mands,” Ian says. “You got to call me your boyfriend first.”

“Ey!” Mickey calls out, affronted, and Ian grins down at him, eyebrows raised in an, Am I wrong? look.

And Mandy’s just- she’s relieved, more than anything. Because they fucking deserve this – all three of them do. They deserve to be able joke about the good shit in their past in the safety of a present that isn’t threatening to take away their future. They deserve some fucking peace of mind.

And as she watches Ian lean down to kiss the top of Mickey’s head before he returns to his seat at the table she thinks it’s probably time to rethink her stance on whether or not Mickey and Ian are going to make it.

*

[96harmony96]

Chapter 2

Just before I exited the elevator into the vestibule of Waters Field & Leaman, the advertising firm I worked for on the twentieth floor, Lauren whispered in my ear, “Think about me all day.”

I squeezed her hand surreptitiously in the crowded car. “Always do.”

She continued the ride up to the top floor, which housed the headquarters of Jauregui Industries. The Crossfire was her, one of many properties she owned throughout the city, including the apartment complex I lived in.

I tried not to pay attention to that. My mom was a career trophy wife. She’d given up my father’s love for an affluent lifestyle, which I couldn’t relate to at all. I’d prefer love over wealth any day, but I suppose that was easy for me to say because I had money—a sizable investment portfolio—of my own. Not that I ever touched it. I wouldn’t. I’d paid too high a price and couldn’t imagine anything worth the cost.

Megumi, the receptionist, buzzed me through the glass security door and greeted me with a big smile. She was a pretty woman, young like me, with a stylish bob of glossy black hair framing stunning Asian features.

“Hey,” I said, stopping by her desk. “Got any plans for lunch?”

“I do now.”

“Awesome.” My grin was wide and genuine. As much as I loved Cary and enjoyed spending time with him, I needed girlfriends, too. Cary had already started building a network of acquaintances and friends in our adopted city, but I’d been sucked into the Lauren vortex almost from the outset. As much as I’d prefer to spend every moment with her, I knew it wasn’t healthy. Female friends would give it to me straight when I needed it, and I was going to have to cultivate those friendships if I wanted them.

Setting off, I headed down the long hallway to my cubicle. When I reached my desk, I put my bag and purse in the bottom drawer, keeping my smartphone out so I could silence it. I found a text from Cary: I’m sorry, baby girl.

“Cary Taylor,” I sighed. “I love you . . . even when you’re pissing me off.”

And he’d pissed me off royally. No woman wanted to come home to a sexual clusterfuck in progress on her living room floor. Especially not while in the middle of a fight with her new girlfriend.

I texted back, Block off the wknd 4 me if u can.

There was a long pause and I imagined him absorbing my request. Damn, he texted back finally. Must be some ass kicking u have planned.

“Maybe a little,” I muttered, shuddering as I remembered the . . . orgy I’d walked in on. But mostly I thought Cary and I needed to spend some quality downtime together. We hadn’t been living in Manhattan long. It was a new town for us, new apartment, new jobs and experiences, new partners for both of us. We were out of our element and struggling, and since we both had barge loads of baggage from our pasts, we didn’t handle struggling well. Usually we leaned on each other for balance, but we hadn’t had much time for that lately. We really needed to make the time. Up for a trip to Vegas? Just u and me?

Fuck yeah!

K . . . more later. As I silenced my phone and put it away, my gaze passed briefly over the two collage photo frames next to my monitor—one filled with photos of both of my parents and one of Cary, and the other filled with photos of me and Lauren. Lauren had put the latter collection together herself, wanting me to have a reminder of her just like the reminder she had of me on her desk. As if I needed it . . .

I loved having those images of the people I loved close by: my mom with her golden cap of curls and her bombshell smile, her curvy body scarcely covered by a tiny bikini as she enjoyed the French Riviera on my stepdad’s yacht; my stepfather, Richard Stanton, looking regal and distinguished, his silver hair oddly complementing the looks of his much younger wife; and Cary, who was captured in all his photogenic glory, with his lustrous brown hair and sparkling green eyes, his smile wide and mischievous. That million-dollar face was starting to pop up in magazines everywhere and soon would grace billboards and bus stops advertising Grey Isles clothing.

I looked across the strip of hallway and through the glass wall that encased Mark Garrity’s very small office and saw his jacket hung over the back of his Aeron chair, even though the man himself wasn’t in sight. I wasn’t surprised to find him in the break room scowling into his coffee mug; he and I shared a java dependency.

“I thought you had the hang of it,” I said, referring to his trouble with the one-cup coffee maker.

“I do, thanks to you.” Mark lifted his head and offering a charmingly crooked smile. He had gleaming dark skin, a trim goatee, and soft brown eyes. In addition to being easy on the eyes, he was a great boss—very open to educating me about the ad business and quick to trust that he didn’t have to show me how to do something twice. We worked well together, and I hoped that would be the case for a long time to come.

“Try this,” he said, reaching for a second steaming cup waiting on the counter. He handed it to me and I accepted it gratefully, appreciating that he’d been thoughtful about adding cream and sweetener, which was how I liked it.

I took a cautious sip, since it was hot, then coughed over the unexpected—and unwelcome—flavor. “What is this?”

“Blueberry-flavored coffee.”

Abruptly, I was the one scowling. “Who the hell wants to drink that?”

“Ah, see . . . it’s our job to figure out who, then sell this to them.” He lifted his mug in a toast. “Here’s to our latest account!”

Wincing, I straightened my spine and took another sip.

* * *

I was pretty sure the sickly sweet taste of artificial blueberries was still coating my tongue two hours later. Since it was time for my break, I started an Internet search for Dr. Terrence Lucas, a man who’d clearly rubbed Lauren the wrong way when I’d seen the two men together at dinner the night before. I hadn’t gotten any further than typing the doctor’s name in the search box when my desk phone rang.

“Mark Garrity’s office,” I answered. “Camila Cabello speaking.”

“Are you serious about Vegas?” Cary asked without preamble.

“Totally.”

There was a pause. “Is this when you tell me you’re moving in with your billionaire girlfriend and I’ve got to go?”

“What? No. Are you nuts?” I squeezed my eyes shut, understanding how insecure Cary was but thinking we were too far along in our friendship for those kinds of doubts. “You’re stuck with me for life, you know that.”

“And you just up and decided we should go to Vegas?”

“Pretty much. Figured we could sip mojitos by the pool and live off room service for a couple days.”

“I’m not sure how much I can pitch in for that.”

“Don’t worry, it’s on Lauren. her plane, her hotel. We’ll just cover our food and drinks.” A lie, since I planned on covering everything except the airfare, but Cary didn’t need to know that.

“And she’s not coming with us?”

I leaned back in my chair and stared at one of the photos of Lauren. I missed her already and it’d been only a couple of hours since we’d been together. “she’s got business in Arizona, so she’ll share the flights back and forth, but it’ll be just you and me in Vegas. I think we need it.”

“Yeah.” He exhaled harshly. “I could do with a change of scenery and some quality time with my best girl.”

“Okay, then. She wants to fly out by eight tomorrow night.”

“I’ll start packing. Want me to put a bag together for you, too?”

“Would you? That’d be great!” Cary could’ve been a stylist or personal shopper. He had serious talent when it came to clothes.

“camila?”

“Yeah?”

He sighed. “Thank you for putting up with my shit.”

“Shut up.”

After we hung up, I stared at the phone for a long minute, hating that Cary was so unhappy when everything in his life was going so well. He was an expert at self-sabotage, never truly believing he was worthy of happiness.

As I returned my attention to work, the Google search on my monitor reminded me of my interest in Dr. Terry Lucas. A few articles about her had been posted on the Web, complete with pictures that cemented the verification.

Pediatrician. Forty-five years of age. Married for twenty years. Nervously, I searched for “Dr. Terrence Lucas and wife,” inwardly cringing at the thought of seeing a golden-skinned, long-haired blonde. I exhaled my relief when I saw that Mrs. Lucas was a pale-skinned woman with short, bright red hair.

But that left me with more questions. I’d figured it would be a woman who’d caused the trouble between the two men.

The fact was, Lauren and I really didn’t know that much about each other. We knew the ugly stuff—at least she knew mine; I’d mostly guessed her from some pretty obvious clues. We knew some of the basic cohabitation stuff about each other after spending so many nights sleeping over at our respective apartments. she’d met half of my family and I’d met all of her. But we hadn’t been together long enough to touch on a whole lot of the periphery stuff. And frankly, I think we weren’t as forthcoming or inquisitive as we could’ve been, as if we were afraid to pile any more crap onto an already struggling relationship.

We were together because we were addicted to each other. I was never as intoxicated as I was when we were happy together, and I knew it was the same for her. We were putting ourselves through the wringer for those moments of perfection between us, but they were so tenuous that only our stubbornness, determination, and love kept us fighting for them.

Enough with making yourself crazy.

I checked my e-mail, and found my daily Google alert on “Lauren Jauregui.” The day’s digest of links led mostly to photos of Lauren, in black tie sans tie, and me at the charity dinner at the Waldorf Astoria the night before.

“God.” I couldn’t help but be reminded of my mother when looking at the pictures of me in a champagne Vera Wang cocktail dress. Not just because of how closely my looks mirrored my mom’s—aside from my hair being brown, long and straight—but also because of the mega-mogul whose arm I graced.

sinu Cabello Barker Mitchell Stanton was very, very good at being a trophy wife. She knew precisely what was expected of her and delivered without fail. Although she’d been divorced twice, both times had been by her choice and both divorces had left her exes despondent over losing her. I didn’t think less of my mother, because she gave as good as she got and didn’t take anyone for granted, but I’d grown up striving for independence. My right to say no was my most valued possession.

Minimizing my e-mail window, I pushed my personal life aside and went back to searching for market comparisons on fruity coffee. I coordinated some initial meetings between the strategists and Mark and helped Mark with brainstorming a campaign for a gluten-free restaurant. Noon approached and I was starting to feel seriously hungry when my phone rang. I answered with my usual greeting.

“camila?” an accented female voice greeted me. “It’s Magdalene. Do you have a minute?”

I leaned back in my chair, alert. Magdalene and I had once shared a moment of sympathy over Corinne’s unexpected and unwanted reappearance in Lauren’s life, but I’d never forget how vicious Magdalene had been to me the first time we’d met. “Just. What’s up?”

She sighed, then spoke quickly, her words flowing in a rush. “I was sitting at the table behind Corinne last night. I could hear a bit of what was being said between her and Lauren during dinner.”

My stomach tensed, preparing for an emotional blow. Magdalene knew just how to exploit my insecurities about Lauren. “Stirring up crap while I’m at work is a new low,” I said coldly. “I don’t—”

“she wasn’t ignoring you.”

My mouth hung open a second, and she quickly filled the silence.

“she was managing her, camila. She was making suggestions for where to take you around New York since you’re new in town, but she was doing it by playing the old remember-when-you-and-I-went-there game.”

“A walk down memory lane,” I muttered, grateful now that I hadn’t been able to hear much of Lauren’s low-voiced conversation with her ex.

“Yes.” Magdalene took a deep breath. “You left because you thought she was ignoring you for her. I just want you to know that she seemed to be thinking about you, trying to keep Corinne from upsetting you.”

“Why do you care?”

“Who says I do? I owe you one, Camila, for the way I introduced myself.”

I thought about that. Yeah, she owed me for when she ambushed me in the bathroom with her catty jealous bullshit. Not that I bought it as her sole motivation. Maybe I was just the lesser of two evils. Maybe she was keeping her enemies close. “All right. Thank you.”

No denying I felt better. A weight I hadn’t realized I was carrying around was suddenly relieved.

“Something else,” Magdalene went on. “she went after you.”

My grip tightened on the phone receiver. Lauren always came after me . . . because I was always running. My recovery was so fragile that I’d learned to protect it at all costs. When something threatened my stability, I ditched it.

“There have been other women in her life who’ve tried ultimatums like that, camila. They got bored or they wanted her attention or some kind of grand gesture . . . So they walked away and expected her to come after them. You know what she did?”

“Nothing,” I said softly, knowing my man. A man who never spent social time with women she slept with and never slept with women she associated with socially. Corinne and I were the sole exceptions to that rule, which was yet another reason why her ex sent me into fits of jealousy.

“Nothing more than making sure Angus dropped them off safely,” she confirmed, making me think it’d been a tactic she’d tried at some point. “But when you left, she couldn’t chase after you fast enough. And she wasn’t herself when she said good-bye. she seemed . . . off.”

Because she’d felt fear. My eyes closed as I mentally kicked myself. Hard.

Lauren had told me more than once that it terrified her when I ran, because she couldn’t handle the thought that I might not come back. What good did it do to say that I couldn’t imagine living without her when I so often showed her otherwise with my actions? Was it any wonder she hadn’t opened up to me about her past?

I had to stop running. Lauren and I were both going to have to stand and fight for this, for us, if we were going to have any hope of making our relationship work.

“Do I owe you now?” I asked neutrally, returning Mark’s wave as he left for lunch.

Magdalene exhaled in a rush. “Lauren and I have known each other a long time. Our mothers are best friends. You and I will see each other around, Camila, and I’m hoping we can find a way to avoid any awkwardness.”

The woman had come up to me and told me that the minute Lauren “shoved her dick” in me, I was “done.” And she’d hit me with that at a moment when I was especially vulnerable.

“Listen, Magdalene, if you don’t cause drama, we’ll get by.” And since she was being so forthright . . . “I can screw up my relationship with Lauren all by myself, trust me. I don’t need any help.”

She laughed softly. “That was my mistake, I think—I was too careful and too accommodating. she has to work at it with you. Anyway . . . I’ve taken up my minute. I’ll let you go.”

“Enjoy your weekend,” I said, in lieu of thanks. I still couldn’t trust her motivation.

“You, too.”

As I returned the receiver to its cradle, my gaze went to the photos of me and Lauren. I was abruptly overwhelmed by feelings of greed and possession. she was mine, yet I couldn’t be sure from one day to the next whether she’d stay mine. And the thought of any other woman having her made me insane.

I pulled open my bottom drawer and dug my smartphone out of my purse. Driven by the need to have her thinking as fiercely about me, I texted her about my sudden desperate hunger to devour her whole: I’d give anything to be sucking your cock right now.

Just thinking about how she looked when I took her in my mouth . . . the feral sounds she made when she was about to come . . .

Standing, I deleted the text the moment I saw it’d been delivered, then dropped my phone back in my purse. Since it was noon, I closed all the windows on my computer and headed out to reception to find Megumi.

“You hungry for anything in particular?” she asked, pushing to her feet and giving me a chance to admire her belted, sleeveless lavender dress.

I coughed because her question came so soon after my text. “No. Your choice. I’m not picky.”

We pushed out through the glass doors to reach the elevators.

“I am so ready for the weekend,” Megumi said with a groan as she stabbed the call button with an acrylic-tipped finger. “A day and a half left to go.”

“Got something fun planned?”

“That remains to be seen.” She sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Blind date,” she explained ruefully.

“Ah. Do you trust the person setting you up?”

“My roommate. I expect the guy will at least be physically attractive, because I know where she sleeps at night and paybacks are a bitch.”

I was smiling as an elevator car reached our floor and we stepped inside. “Well, that ups your odds for a good time.”

“Not really, since she found him by going on a blind date with him first. She swears he’s great, just more my type than hers.”

“Hmm.”

“I know, right?” Megumi shook her head and looked up at the decorative, old-fashioned needle above the car doors that marked the passing floors.

“You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”

“Oh, yeah. Wish me luck.”

“Absolutely.” We’d just stepped out into the lobby when I felt my purse vibrate beneath my arm. As we passed through the turnstiles, I dug for my phone and felt my stomach tighten at the sight of Lauren’s name. she was calling, not sexting me back.

“Excuse me,” I said to Megumi before answering.

She waved it off nonchalantly. “Go for it.”

“Hey,” I greeted her playfully.

“camila.”

I missed a step hearing the way she growled my name. There was a wealth of promise in the roughness of her voice.

Slowing, I found I was speechless, just from hearing her say my name with that edginess I craved—the sharp bite that told me she wanted to be inside me more than she wanted anything else in the world.

While people flowed around me, entering and exiting the building, I was halted by the weighted silence on my phone. The unspoken and nearly irresistible demand. she made no sound at all—I couldn’t even hear her breathing—but I felt her hunger. If I didn’t have Megumi waiting patiently for me, I’d be riding an elevator to the top floor to satisfy her unvoiced command to make good on my offer.

The memory of the time I’d sucked her off in her office simmered through me, making my mouth water. I swallowed. “Lauren . . .”

“You wanted my attention—now you have it. I want to hear you say those words.”

I felt my face flush. “I can’t. Not here. Let me call you later.”

“Step over by the column and out of the way.”

Startled, I looked around for her. Then I remembered that the Caller ID put her in her office. My gaze lifted, searching for the security cameras. Immediately, I felt her eyes on me, hot and wanting. Arousal surged through me, spurred by her desire.

“Hurry along, angel. Your friend’s waiting.”

I moved to the column, my breathing fast and audible.

“Now tell me. Your text made me hard, camila. What are you going to do about it?”

My hand went to my throat, my gaze sliding helplessly to Megumi, who watched me with raised brows. I lifted one finger up, asking for another minute, then turned my back to her and whispered, “I want you in my mouth.”

“Why? To play with me? To tease me like you’re doing now?” There was no heat in her voice, just calm severity.

I knew to pay careful attention when Lauren got serious about sex.

“No.” I lifted my face to the tinted dome in the ceiling that concealed the nearest security camera. “To make you come. I love making you come, Lauren.”

she exhaled harshly. “A gift, then.”

Only I knew what it meant for Lauren to view a sexual act as a gift. For her, sex had previously been about pain and degradation or lust and necessity. Now, with me, it was about pleasure and love. “Always.”

“Good. Because I treasure you, Camila, and what we have. Even our driving urge to fuck each other constantly is precious to me, because it matters.”

I sagged into the column, admitting to myself that I’d fallen into an old destructive habit—I’d exploited sexual attraction to ease my insecurities. If Lauren was lusting after me, she couldn’t be lusting after anyone else. How did she always know what was going on in my mind?

“Yes,” I breathed, closing my eyes. “It matters.”

There’d been a time when I’d turned to sex to feel affection, confusing momentary desire with genuine caring. Which was why I now insisted on having some sort of friendly framework in place before I went to bed with a man. I never again wanted to roll out of a lover’s bed feeling worthless and dirty.

And I sure as hell didn’t want to cheapen what I shared with Lauren just because I was irrationally scared of losing her.

It hit me then that I was off balance. I had this sick feeling in my gut, like something awful was going to happen.

“You can have what you want after work, angel.” her voice deepened, grew raspier. “In the meantime, enjoy lunch with your co-worker. I’ll be thinking about you. And your mouth.”

“I love you, Lauren.”

It took a couple of deep breaths after I hung up to compose myself enough to join Megumi again. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Everything all right?”

“Yes. Everything’s fine.”

“Things still hot and heavy with you and Lauren Jauregui?” She glanced at me with a slight smile.

“Umm . . .” Oh yes. “Yes, that’s fine, too.” And I wished desperately that I could talk about it. I wished I could just open the valve and gush about my overwhelming feelings for her. How thoughts of her consumed me, how the feel of her beneath my hands drove me wild, how the passion of her tortured soul cut into me like the sharpest blade.

But I couldn’t. Not ever. She was too visible, too well known. Private tidbits about her life were worth a small fortune. I couldn’t risk it.

“she sure is,” Megumi agreed. “Damn fine. Did you know her before you started working here?”

“No. Although I suppose we would have met eventually.” Because of our pasts. My mother gave generously to many abused children’s charities, as did Lauren. It was inevitable that Lauren and I would’ve crossed paths at some point. I wondered what that meeting would have been like—her with a gorgeous blonde on her arm and me with Cary. Would we have had the same visceral reaction to each other from a distance as we’d had up close in the Crossfire lobby?

she’d wanted me the moment she saw me on the street.

“I wondered.” Megumi pushed through the revolving lobby door. “I read that it was serious between you two,” she went on when I joined her outside on the sidewalk. “So I thought maybe you’d known her before.”

“Don’t believe everything you read on those gossip blogs.”

“So it’s not serious?”

“I didn’t say that.” It was too serious at times. Painfully, brutally so.

She shook her head. “God . . . listen to me pry. Sorry. Gossip is one of my vices. So are extremely hot women like Lauren Jauregui. I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to hook up with a gir whose body screams sex like that. Tell me she’s awesome in bed.”

I smiled. It was good to hang out with another girl. Not that Cary couldn’t also be appreciative of a hot guy, but nothing beat girl talk. “You won’t hear me complaining.”

“Lucky bitch.” Bumping shoulders with me to show she was teasing, she said, “How about that roommate of yours? From the photos I saw, she’s gorgeous, too. Is she single? Wanna hook me up?”

Turning my head quickly, I hid a wince. I’d learned the hard way never to set up an acquaintance or friend with Cary. He was so easy to love, which led to a lot of broken hearts because he couldn’t love back the same way. The moment things started going too well, Cary sabotaged them. “I don’t know if he’s single or not. Things are . . . complicated in his life at the moment.”

“Well, if the opportunity presents itself, I’m certainly not opposed. Just sayin’. You like tacos?”

“Love ’em.”

“I know a great place a couple blocks up. Come on.”

* * *

Things were going well in my world as Megumi and I headed back from lunch. Forty minutes of gossip, guy-ogling, and three awesome carne asada tacos later, I was feeling pretty good. And we were returning to work a little over ten minutes early, which I was glad for since I hadn’t been the most punctual employee lately, even though Mark never complained.

The city was thrumming around us, taxis and people surging through the growing heat and humidity as they crammed what they could into the insufficient hours of the day. I people-watched shamelessly, my eyes skimming over everyone and everything.

Men in business suits walked alongside women in flowing skirts and flip-flops. Ladies in haute couture and five-hundred-dollar shoes teetered past steaming hot dog vendor carts and shouting hawkers. The eclectic mix of New York was heaven to me, stirring an excitement that made me feel more vibrant here than anyplace else I’d ever lived.

We were stopped by a traffic light directly across from the Crossfire, and my gaze was immediately drawn to the black Bentley sitting in front of it. Lauren must’ve just gotten back from lunch. I couldn’t help but think about her sitting in her car on the day we’d met, watching me as I took in the imposing beauty of her Crossfire Building. It made me tingly just thinking about it—

Suddenly, I went cold.

Because a striking blonde breezed out of the revolving doors just then and paused, giving me a good, long look at her—Lauren’s ideal, whether she’d been aware of it or not. A woman I’d witnessed her fixate on the moment she’d seen her in the Waldorf Astoria ballroom. A woman whose poise and hold over Lauren brought out all my worst insecurities.

Corinne Giroux looked like a breath of fresh air in a cream-colored sheath dress and cherry red heels. She ran a hand over her waist-length hair, which wasn’t quite as sleek as it’d appeared last night when I’d met her. In fact, it looked a little disheveled. And her fingers were rubbing at her mouth, wiping along the outline of her lips.

I pulled my smartphone out, activated the camera, and snapped a picture. With the proximity of the zoom, I could see why she was fussing with her lipstick—it was smeared. No, more like mashed. As if from a passionate kiss.

The light changed. Megumi and I moved with the flow, closing the distance between me and the woman who’d once had Lauren’s promise to marry her. Angus stepped out of the Bentley and came around, speaking to her briefly before opening the back door for her. The feeling of betrayal—Angus’s and Lauren’s—was so fierce, I couldn’t catch my breath. I swayed on my feet.

“Hey.” Megumi caught my arm to steady me. “And we only had virgin margaritas, lightweight!”

I watched Corinne’s willowy body slide into the back of Lauren’s car with practiced grace. My fists clenched as fury surged through me. Through the haze of my angry tears, the Bentley pulled away from the curb and disappeared.

[polygamyff]

47. Part 5

Terry made her way back; she went for another drink. I really want to go back to Robyn, so I can be the little spoon but I can’t leave Terry, clearly the woman wants to talk “what is that?” looking at the glass smiling, she done bought me some whiskey “my daughter won’t know, it’s only one drink” I laughed, I am laughing because I was on the verge of being a drunk mess at one point “well luckily for me, I can handle my drink, it could have been worse. Thank you, did you not put it on my tab? You didn’t pay did you?” sitting forward as I picked up the glass “oh stop it, I paid. I don’t want you to pay for everything now, it’s only a little drink” I downed the whiskey, it was quick of me but it didn’t last long enough “thank you Terry” placing the glass down “no more now, because honestly. Robyn will drive me up the wall. She does not like me drinking which I understand, and I really don’t care for it, since being with Robyn. Well with Robyn living here, it’s really made me change. It’s made me happier; I am glad she moved here with me. I think if I moved to Cali, it would have posed a lot of issues for me so I am happy. I feel healthy, she does look after me. You raised her so well, to you Terry. I mean if I had a drink, I would drink to that” it’s nice to see Terry smile “thank you Maurice, she’s not been a bad child at all. I mean I have seen a lot, since you have been in her life. My daughter can be a freak but I can be same, but she hasn’t been no trouble to me. But I see Reign being the trouble, that girl is fierce Maurice, I can see it in her. You know being here, what I did enjoy the most is you and Reign together. It’s been so lovely to see, but I am telling you now Maurice. She knows what she is doing when she screams at you, she knows you will argue back with her and she loves it but honestly. Thank you for making me feel so welcomed, always making sure I am ok. You didn’t need too but you did and I couldn’t have asked for a better son in law” I think Terry is drunk, she is speaking on her feeling way more then she would “appreciate it Terry, I did think you would hate me. For being married and everything, it was a lot” sitting back on the seat “I was hurt to see my daughter so hurt, she was devastated, she didn’t eat for a few days. Locked herself in her room, I thought something worse had happened, I mean it was bad but not to the extent I thought. I saw the good in you, so did Robyn but it didn’t help with Thomas, but I adore you so much, you are a good man. And I always say it to Robyn you control this home, you need to be the woman” oh yes, Terry is drunk “mhmmm, but Robyn had a great teacher. She is beautiful, how did you even hide her?” Terry placed her glass down, she has drank it already “hard, I had men stalking her. Thomas would take her to and from school. She had a boy, I say boy because she was in school, he threatened to kill her if she wasn’t his, it was eventful” Terry got up “refill?” I laughed; I shouldn’t laugh but what is this woman doing “for you” I pointed.

I stretched out laughing, I shouldn’t laugh but Robyn’ mother is getting drunk “still here ugly?” looking up at Nalah “uh yes, I am sat with Terry. Just talking, you going to bed now? I text Shawn, he said sorry” Nalah walked over to me “I know, he text me too. I saw Jay with Ally, I will leave that but anyways night” nodding my head “Shawn is a good guy Nalah, I am not saying it because he is my friend but I think he has fallen for you” Nalah laughed out as she continued to walk off, Shawn knows I would kill him so I know he is being real with it, it’s family and you don’t do it if it wasn’t real “Terry, do you not have a bed time?” I asked, I have to ask because I want to go back “not really, just you know, why not” I can’t stop laughing “wait, who gave you the bottle of Moet!?” I spat, what on earth “well I went to the bar and they said it was left from the evening event, I bought glasses” she is a bad influence “can I blame you if I am drunk?” I need to know this “you can, oh I know my daughter has you on some rules. You will be ok, you are doing well” Terry poured the drink for me “I like you a lot, I mean if this is how you want to spend mother in law time, then so be it” I am not complaining but Robyn will, I will be humping the shit out of Robyn now, I will be big spoon so she might kick me out of bed, I hope not anyways “so, can we raise a glass. That you will promise me that you will at least sign the papers to be married to my daughter? You have promised me a lot, and one of those was that. I want, when Thomas sees her, for her to be a Davenport so we can start over, can you? Raise your glass now” raising my glass chuckling “I can do that for you, I can do it tomorrow? As long as Robyn wears that dress” Terry and I clinked glasses “you do me that favour, what I want is for Robyn to feel a new person because she is, she is starting a new life with a new family. Just need that to be on paper forever” I understand what she means “I mean, call me crazy. Are you upset that Rell’ family have got in contact with you? I feel you are” I am just thinking that she is “possibly, I don’t know how to feel about it, I try to keep my family close to me, I try to not allow things to destroy the bond we have, I feel scared in a way. Yes I hid his child from them but I also don’t want it to become bad news for her, I do and don’t want to tell her, it’s getting to me but I am sad because I know Rell would have loved her and he would hate that I hid her from his family, I feel bad too” oh shit, I didn’t want her to be upset “don’t get upset, I think you did a great job, you really did. I am sorry that I upset you, don’t feel bad. I will support Robyn as much as I can” Terry flicked her tear away “she will need it, I feel bad. They lost him and I had a piece of him all these year and it just hit my soul when she said I saw my son on my TV, I just feel very bad about it” getting up from my seat and switching to sit next to Terry “don’t feel bad about it” placing my arm around Terry “Robyn never judged you for doing that” I hit a nerve, I think.

Terry has decided it’s time for bed, I only drank one glass of Moet, I am not that brave to be drinking so many “I will take the bottle” Terry said as she took the bottle “maybe you have drank enough?” I mentioned, I think she has but Terry is not going to listen “you got your keycard with you?” I asked, Terry paused thinking “how?” ok she hasn’t “it’s fine, I will get you one. I would give you mine that can access any of them but I need that” walking to the front desk “be careful, just wait there” I said to Terry, I don’t want her hurting herself now “hi, I need a keycard to any room that is free on the top floor, close to my room please” I flinched hearing glass shatter, looking behind me seeing that Terry has dropped a bottle of Moet on my marble flooring “and you can get someone to clean that please” shaking my head sighing out “just be careful!” I shouted; Robyn cannot be angry at me for this because I am looking after her mother of course. She is just drinking her feelings away which reminds me, Robyn does the same shit and drinks her feelings away. I guess I know where she gets that from, I am sure she will be over it.

The cleaner came out to us quick “are you ok? Not hurt are you?” Terry shook her head “it slipped” she laughed “yeah, I can see it did. I will send you the bill if it’s marked the flooring, watch yourself” holding Terry’ arm for her to not fall “oh yes, I am sorry” she laughed to herself “I think you need to sleep this off, no more drinking too. Too much fun for you” making our way to the elevator, pressing the elevator button turning around “I am sorry, I didn’t mean to cause issues” stepping onto the elevator “it’s ok, rather it be your family you do this with” I wish I was there for Robyn at that time, I shuddered at the thought, I will never make that mistake again. I still think of that shit till this day, if I can support her mother I will, she needs someone, and I am there “you will never stop me from seeing Robbie would you? My daughter is so in love with you, I am scared she would stop. Seeing her at the home, at times I am like will I lose her. You’re not that are you?” The booze is talking “you know I wouldn’t, don’t say that. You can stay at my home forever; you think Robyn loves me that much?” I laughed “she does Maurice, she is so deep” Terry laughed “she is more in love then I was, pure love” it’s nice to hear that “Terry, I will never do that. Robyn would be heartbroken, stop it ok? Come on, let’s go” the elevator doors opened.

I smiled lightly at Reign and Robyn asleep, I think Reign is the tiny spoon. Robyn is holding her close, it’s cute to see, Robyn gives all that talk about get Reign out of the bed but look at her. Throwing my pants to the side, now where can I be the big spoon, I think I will go around the bed. I hope Terry is ok, I did open the door and let her go inside but I am happy she didn’t have the bottle of Moet, she didn’t need to drink anymore. Moving the covers back slowly, oh look at her booty just poking out “my god” I breathed out, I love her booty so much, with her thong on too. She is so damn perfect, slowly getting into bed not wanting to wake any of my ladies up. I am dead ass about being the big spoon, slowly placing the covers over me and shuffling closer to Robyn just behind her “you stink of booze” Robyn said groggily “that is a lie, sshh go to sleep medium spoon” pressing a kiss to the back of her head “Maurice!” Robyn spat, I cringed at me “kicking me” she hit my arm away, I tried to not laugh “I am sorry, go to sleep” that was my fault, my foot straight kicked her leg when I was trying to get comfy from behind her.

I groaned out “woah, what the hell” near falling out of bed “Reign, baby. Your dad doesn’t produce milk, stop that” Robyn said through her laughter, my hand on the ground is the only thing stopping me falling from the bed with Reigh “ouch!! Oh my god!” Reign didn’t even cry with the we are near falling off the bed, she has gripped onto my damn chest for dear life “take your time Robyn, thanks” this is not funny at all “come here, what are you like” Robyn does not care, she finds it funny. I fell onto the floor and groaned out before rubbing my chest and nipple, full of drool “did she really do what I think she did?” I asked, clearing my throat “you damn right she did, she is teething. She needed something to suck on” pulling face in disgust “ugh! That is disgusting Robyn, what the hell” my head hurts now “I did tell her no but then you woke up, stop it. She don’t understand, I just hope she didn’t get hair in her mouth, was that nice Reign?” Reign yelped out, she is awake alright the devil, getting up from the floor “morning anyways” nodding my head before pulling down my boxers that are now riding up ass “I wasn’t expect a reply, I was saying morning to your dick” Robyn said laughing “where you going?” I asked, I want a shower “giving Reign a bath, together. You’re not invited, bye!” let me go back to sleep then.

“Hey! Maurice, wake up. I am going to do my hair, just watch Reign for me. Before she starts sucking on your nipple again” Robyn laughed, I moaned out stretching my body out “where is she?” I mumbled, feeling Robyn’ hand on my chest “wake up, seriously. She is on the bed playing with your phone” opening my eyes slowly “uh yeah” seeing Reign sat on the bed waving my phone around “ok” I sighed out “I am awake” I said, looking up at Robyn “I am sad I wasn’t invited to bath time, mhmmm left out to be honest” my baby is looking sexy once again “well Reign’ baby bath is at home so I was like we might as well both have it, it was fun. Without you anyways, creep” poking my lips out “I am still distraught about Reign trying to suck on my nipple, what is even her problem” Robyn laughed, she finds that shit so funny “trying to get fed, you seen the size of your nipples” shaking my head laughing “you’re stupid, what time is it?” I haven’t even seen the time “it’s about eight, Reign woke up nice and early as she does” Robyn leaned down “I haven’t brushed my teeth?” I said laughing “I love you for your smelly ways too, also you drank more. And look at this” she moved back to lift her leg up “a bruise, you kicked me so hard. Pain in the ass, you could have slept on the other side” I laughed seeing the bruise “sorry” Robyn shook her head leaning down to press a kiss to my lips “I love you” she pecked my lips “you too” reaching my hand up “I really want to fuck you right now, you looks so good with wet hair” placing my hand around Robyn’ neck, licking my lips just wanting to have sex with her “it’s like you have fallen in love with me all over again” staring at her lips “I have, and every day I do. I am in love with you Robyn and I will never stop loving you” moving my hand back, Robyn shyed away walking off “you are so cute when you get shy” I said watching her walk off, she looked at me grinning before proceeding to go to do her hair.

Walking behind Robyn, meeting my parents for breakfast but Nalah text me saying she already left to go back to New York “morning, hi. I am here. I mean I should be the one we all love to see” I know damn well my dad is more excited to see Reign, just looking at his old ass getting up from the chair “I have been waiting for you my little angel, I didn’t eat my breakfast. I said no, we won’t, we will wait so we can eat together. Awww can I have her?” this is not it “you do know she came out of my balls?” I have to say it “Maurice, stop being so nasty. Come on now, we were waiting. Sit down” side eyeing my mom “what are you like, why are you being so jealous” I shrugged laughing “I like the attention to be on me, you know. I can’t help it Robyn” sitting down at the table “whatever, did my mom come down? Where is that woman, she hasn’t picked up” I hope Terry is ok “she is probably tired, don’t worry about it. She will be down soon” placing my arm behind Robyn “I thought I would leave the feeding to you, you can put her to sleep too” Robyn said to my mom “aww, can we? You hear that? We are taking care of you” I do like to see Reign with my parents, she looks so content with my dad “I am not over Reign doing what she was doing, did she really assume such a thing?” I can’t let it go, I am honestly in shock at the behaviour “what happened, she first held your chest to get up to stand and honestly, she kept poking your nipple and I was laughing because you was not waking up. She was just poking her finger there and then” Robyn tried to not laugh “she just did what she thought was right, she is a baby Maurice. She doesn’t understand” shaking my head, I don’t find this amusing at all “don’t be so uptight, it was funny to watch” Robyn reached up holding my hand that was hanging from the side of her “so did you get a nanny for her?” my dad asked “erm no, day care. Excuse me, can I have some Orange Juice, thanks” I asked the waiter “day care? She is still a baby Maurice, what do you mean? She needs to be at home” here my dad go with his shit “look, Robyn didn’t want a nanny. We came to an agreement. This is called working together, she is fine please. I don’t need you to say it right, it is a private day care and it will be a few hours. Just between the times where I am at work and Robyn is, I want Robyn to work. I am happy for her to work I am also happy if she didn’t, I don’t care. Reign is fine, anyways. Where is my breakfast” I don’t want to hear him preaching about how he raised me “yes I had a nanny with you, but I had you in my office all day, you can’t do that? You both can bond” I laughed “there is a difference with me and Reign, I stuck to you and didn’t move. She will move and cause me heartache; I can’t deal with that. I rather she be safe, I know my daughter. I know she will be everywhere; I wasn’t because I was too busy being stuck to you, now end of” shit is different now.

Terry finally joined us, she looks a little worse for wear actually and she is wearing shades “dirty stop out, I saw that man going into your room” I said laughing “really!?” Robyn spat “be quiet you, sorry. And Robyn sorry, I overlaid. Too many cocktails” I chuckled shaking my head “but did you have a man in your room? Are you lying to me Maurice?” I laughed at Robyn being serious “I am joking, your mother would never do such a thing” Robyn is so serious at times, picking my phone up from the side. Nalah tagged me something on Instagram, not like her. Unlocking my phone and waited for whatever she tagged me in, Robyn is still going at Terry for being drunk or whatever. Reading Nalah’ text saying have you seen this, scrolling back up squinting my eyes. My eyes bulged out “what the fuck” I said to myself “what is that!?” Robyn snatched my phone from me “uh, I was looking at that” what the hell “Maurice Davenport cheating, this is here. Wait hold up, this my mom” nodding my head “right, your mom was upset so I hugged her, that was it. I am not having an affair with her” Terry took her shades “what? What is this?” Robyn is so confused “that is awful, who posted that?” Terry said, this is such bullshit “it’s a blogsite, Nalah tagged me in. Please believe me it was just arm around her” Robyn passed me my phone back “I do but why, what is wrong mom?” now I need to call my publicist about this shit “dad, can you take care of Reign. I am sure you will be just fine, enjoy. Come, Robyn and Terry” sort this shit out now.

My publicist is still here so I called her to the office “I am confused, mom what happened?” Lorraine finally arrived “why the hell is there picture of me with Terry? Like making shit up?” Lorraine closed the door “I have just seen them; I was going to text you. Someone was around doing that; did you not see?” shaking my head “no, I am so confused. Who the fuck, can you get the cameras and check?” Lorraine sighed out “well, issue with that. I asked the same shit, the cameras haven’t officially started to work, the company are coming today. But it can be anyone, there was a lot of media here. But we will investigate it and shut it down, don’t worry about it. They tried to make it out to be something it’s not, but I need to go back to New York now. I have some things I need to deal with including this now, I will be in contact. Nice meeting you both again, until next time” Lorraine left “well that is sorted, people are fucking weird. Anyways, I think it is the best time to tell Robyn on why you was upset” we might as well speak on it, everything is up in the air “yeah, so I just wanted to speak to Maurice to help on what he thinks would be best, so Thomas and I. We are going to try again, no shock there, you had a feeling. But he knows, I have said it to him that he has to make amends with you and Maurice. Before we both start it again, things may not be the same but he has to accept it, he felt he was losing his family, he was going through a dark patch in his life, I will let him talk to you about that but I was speaking to Maurice about that. Then Thomas went to get his mail in the home, then he saw a letter which stated Terry Henderson, my name before marriage. I said open it, I went on facetime with him. He read it to himself first, but it was a letter from Rell’ mother, handwritten. She saw her son’ smile on her TV, she saw her son. She wants answers, she uhm, saw you on TV. I can imagine it being about Maurice’ events, she wants answers that I was upset about because I kept you away from them, they have missed twenty seven years of your life, I held back half of her son. I felt bad and Maurice was consoling me. I am not sure how I will respond but I am leaving this to you, I want you to make this yourself. I will be happy with whatever you decide, I did what I thought was right but now it’s your time” Robyn walked off, I didn’t think she would, but she left the office.

Walking slowly outside my hotel, Robyn didn’t go far “nice here ain’t it, Atlanta ain’t all that bad huh” standing across from Robyn “it’s nice” Robyn mumbled “you know what I think? Maybe it’s just me but like with Adam, I was curious, and I went to see him. This secret son, it’s different but I would meet them. It’s not your fault that your mom kept that from you, you may feel like you belong more. I mean for someone to write a letter and make the effort to find your mom’ address, your dad must have met a lot to them. Because I would like to know who your family is too, because that is my daughter’ family too. But that is just me, I have a pretty fucked up family tree anyways. I don’t think you should be upset, you got me. I will be there” Robyn smiled, I like that I can make her smile “it’s nice to hear that, positivity. Thank you for being there for my mom but it’s just scary, it’s scary to meet this family I never knew. I feel like a scared little girl, I don’t hate my mom for it but I wish she explained it to me, explained that Thomas was my step dad that did a great job but this is your dad, maybe this could close that unknown chapter. I am not upset, just a little shocked and scared” hugging Robyn “I will be with you, whenever you meet them. I will be there for you” Robyn let out a little giggle “what?” I said confused “how dare you have an affair with my mom” I laughed moving back from the hug “that shit blew my mind, anything for a story” shaking my head “I wasn’t even thinking that, I was more upset thinking why is my mom crying” it’s nice to hear that, Robyn trusts me and honestly I would never break that.

[amydancepants-peralta]

3, 23, and 45 for the prompts!

Hiii Anon,  I’m so sorry this took me a while!  But here go you, response to 23: “Just tell me why you did it!  Because I’m in love with you, ok!”

Title courtesy of Foo Fighters (and I know the lyric ‘is watch him as he goes’, but ‘falls’ works much better here, so just roll with me on this xD)  Hope you enjoy! xx

there goes my hero (watch him as he falls)

There had always been a tiny part of Amy’s mind that was a little concerned that maybe she wasn’t the badass she made herself out to be.  

Sure, she knew how to fight.  But that was because she grew up watching (and learning) as her siblings sparred.  She was tenacious, because with her and her Mom as the only two women in the house, she had learned quickly the importance of standing your ground.  And she certainly knew how to use her mind, but the mind wasn’t everything.  Logically, she knew that she was tough - and always held onto the belief that when push came to shove, her natural born instinct would be to fight like hell.

That was until this afternoon, when she and Jake had followed up on what turned out to be bad intel from her CI, resulting in them chasing their perp into a nearby stockyard.  With his head start, neither of them had managed to catch which direction he’d been heading in and so they’d split up, Jake heading west while she stayed east (or, as Jake had put it, you go this way and I’ll go that way).  

Maybe it was the lack of sleep she’d experienced the night before.  Or maybe it was sheer stupidity.  But for whatever reason, she didn’t notice the perp gaining on her until it was too late, and he was standing in front of her with the barrel of his gun pointing straight at her chest.

And she froze.  Despite all the training, and god knows how many simulations she’d been in.  She froze.  

The rest of it played over and over in her head, a continuous loop she cannot seem to escape.  She remembers her body tensing up as she heard the perp cock his weapon, remembers her eyes squinting as her face turned into a grimace, and then suddenly: Jake was there.  He was there, and his hand was on her shoulder pushing her away, his body in-between hers and the perps, and then the shot rang out. 

Round and round.  The shot rang out, and Jake was there, and then suddenly he wasn’t.  

He was on the ground, and a scarily large pool of red was surrounding him, and the perp was getting away but she didn’t care.  Instead she was shouting words into the radio, free hand frantically pushing her jacket off her body to cover the wound (a through and through, she remembers thinking), and before long there were paramedics and officers and Terry’s familiar voice and her hands just would not stop shaking.

This wasn’t her first time witnessing a shooting.  And as part of her job, she knew it would not be her last, either.  But this one had been different.  She’d never had her partner in front of her, mouthing her name as his face grew pale and her once grey jacket pushed against his shoulder, turning crimson at an alarmingly rapid rate.  Never had the knowledge that it should have been her on the ground, because she was the one that froze, and now Jake was on the ground bleeding and it was all her fault.  

There has just been so much blood.  It was what she kept coming back to, what she found herself repeating to Terry over and over in the car on the way to the hospital - There was so much blood, Sarge, don’t you think there was so much blood?  Too much blood to be okay.   I’ve never seen that much blood.  Terry?  Was it too much blood?  He’d remained silent beside her, eyes trained on the road ahead, clenching jaw the only indicator that he’d heard her at all.  

And then Amy was silent too, mind lost in the memory of the previous week.  Her consuming one too many drinks at Shaws, followed by Jake taking her home in a cab.  She had been so eager to stop the world from spinning, resting her head on his shoulder, but that only seemed to make it spin faster.  Before long his nose was in her hair, and okay, maybe she was completely drunk but she could have sworn she heard him say her name.  She’d lifted her head to answer him, but his eyes were closed, and there was so little distance between them that Amy could feel his breath against her skin.  The urge to push forward - to close the gap and find out if his lips were as soft as they looked - was strong, but then he’d opened his eyes and she’d felt her face rush with blood, the blush so obvious from being so clearly caught out.

He’d smiled at her, that small smile that he’s only given her a handful of times, the one that was secretly her favourite, and her heart had skipped a tiny beat.  And then the cab had pulled over outside her apartment, and just like that, the moment was gone.

It had been close to a year working together when the conversation of dating colleagues had come up.  Jake had been filling the silence of a stakeout with his usual jabber and had just finished describing, in elaborate detail, the disaster that his previous relationship had left behind.  That she had been a cop from another precinct, and that things were great until they weren’t, and that before Jake knew it he’d unknowingly embroiled the Nine-Nine in an all-out war with the Eight-Six.  

It had taken months for their Sergeant to smooth things over, he’d admitted sheepishly, and Amy couldn’t help but take the opportunity to announce that she never wanted to date another cop.  Nothing but bad ideas, she remembered saying, and if she had only glanced back in Jake’s direction, then she too would have seen the flicker of anguish that had crossed his face.

But she hadn’t, and even as they grew closer, Amy had held onto the rule like her talisman - fooling even herself into believing that they didn’t flirt with each other, that they weren’t growing closer every day, and that there definitely weren’t nights where Jake infiltrated her dreams.

An hour passes by.  And her mind never stops thinking about what happened.

She finds herself standing outside his hospital room, filled with irrational anger, willing herself to calm the hurricane down before stepping through the door.  At some point Terry exits and takes one look at her appearance - hair long pulled from its professional ponytail; bottom lip red from her incessant chewing, arm a constellation of crescent scars as her nails continue to dig in - and wisely steps aside, mumbling something about Jake getting changed into a clean shirt, and still Amy finds herself unable to step into the room.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, she shakes her hands free and pushes the door open with a little more force than was probably necessary.  It bounces off the wall with a heavy bang, not unlike the sound of the gun earlier that evening, and she jumps at the sound.  She turns, sheepishly looking for him, and he’s sitting at the edge of the bed in a standard issue NYPD shirt, one arm wrapped in a sling, eyes wide and strangely silent.   

He’s been waiting for her.  She can tell from the look on his face.  But the sudden confrontation of her partner in front of her, one shoulder covered in gauze and nursed against his chest is unfamiliar to her, and everything she had been about to say suddenly seems irrelevant.  

He clears his throat, sensing her discomfort because of course he does, he’s her partner, and he knows her body language better than she does.  “So, they said I have to keep my arm in a sling for the next couple of days, but that otherwise I’m fine.”

She nods, fingers digging into her arms again.

“Through and through.  Only a few stitches, really.  That good ol’ Peralta Luck came through for me again.”

Another nod.  He sighs.

“I’m fine, Amy.“

She takes a deep breath and shakes her head.  “But it could’ve been worse.”

“It could’ve, yeah.  But it wasn’t.”

“You weren’t there,” she whispered, trying desperately to fight the tears threatening to escape.  “You were on the other side of the yard, away from the danger.  And then, you - ”

“I heard his footsteps.  Dude was a heavy walker.  There was nothing happening on my side, but on your side, I could hear his.  Yours, I would know anywhere.  And when they both stopped, I knew something must have been going down.  The rest, I guess, is history.”

“You should have stayed away, Jake.”  There is was, that irrational anger that Amy had thought she’d managed to stash away, rearing its ugly head.  “You should have stayed back, and called for backup, and not put yourself into harm’s way.”

Jake shakes his head, his disagreement so obvious that it serves only to fuel her fire.

“You know I’m right on this, Peralta!  We weren’t even wearing vests.  It made absolutely NO sense for both of us to end up in front of that gun.  You could’ve distracted him, tried to take him down, or - ”

“Don’t you dare suggest that I should have stood there and watched him shoot you, Santiago.  There’s not a chance in hell that I was ever going to let that happen.”

“Alright, fine.  But still ….”  

He stands, craning his neck as he clenches his jaw, mouth turning into a grimace as he fights to say what he so obviously is dying to say.  

And so she pushes.  “Just tell me why you did it, Jake!”

“Because I LOVE YOU, okay?  Are you happy now?  I love you.  I am so in love with you it’s ridiculous.”

She stares at him, mouth opening slightly as his outburst continues.  

“And I know you don’t want to date cops, and I know that we’re better off just being partners, and I’m trying the best I can to not be in love with you.  But I can’t do that when there is a bullet flying towards you, Amy.  I can’t.  I won’t.  There’s no point to any of this without you here.”

“ … Jake.”

He shakes his head, taking a step back.  “Don’t.  It doesn’t matter, Ames.  I’ve been getting pretty good at the whole ‘Jake Doesn’t Love Amy’ act, and after tonight I’ll fall right back into the role, I promise.”

“But, I -”

“Seriously, Amy.  You’re off the hook.  This whole thing is just as much my fault as it is yours, and honestly, I’ve been holding out for a super cool scar for ages, so who’s to say that I wasn’t just thinking about that when I did it?”

The memory of his warm breath on her skin in the backseat of a cab washes over her again, and Amy knows that this time she can’t let the moment slip away.

That maybe she was a badass, but that her bravery sometimes took on other forms.  A stranger pointing a gun at her could make her freeze, but the mere thought of walking out of this hospital room without finally being honest about her feelings could propel her into immediate action.

That this was Peralta, and yes, he drove her crazy sometimes, but also:  this was Jake, the man that filled her with the intrinsic knowledge that he would never do anything to hurt her.  That after today, he was going to have a scar on his shoulder, and that was entirely her fault. And she would be damned if she was going to be the reason there was a scar on his heart as well.

And so she steps forward, bold steps turning timid as the distance falls shorter, heart pounding out of her chest as she moves to place her hands on either side of his neck.  

“ … Don’t.”  His body stiffens.

She pulls back slightly, eyes raking over his face to distract herself from the sting, searching for more information.  He shakes his head, sad brown eyes meeting hers.

“Don’t do this because I’ve made you feel bad about today.  I don’t want you to kiss me because you feel obligated.”  Another shake of his head, looking away as he closes his eyes.  “This is why I didn’t want to tell you.  I only want you to kiss me if..” he never finishes the sentence, because suddenly her mouth is on his, and in an instant everything else just seems to fall away.  

She was kissing him, and it shouldn’t make any sense, but it absolutely did.  He was the perfect fit, lips slotting against hers, warm and soft and fundamentally Jake.  His body freezes, but only for a moment, and then she feels him melt into it, releasing a soft sigh into her mouth as she presses harder.

This was it – this was the feeling that she had been waiting for.  That sense of fulfilment, of everything clicking together for the first time in a long time.  And right now, Amy can’t think of any logical reason why she had held back for so long.  He could have died today.  Jake could have died, and she would never have felt what it was like to kiss him.  And honestly, that would have been a terrible waste.

Slowly – reluctantly - she pulls away, smiling as his lips chase hers as she moves.

“I …” she swallows, throat suddenly dry.  “I don’t know if I’m ready to say the L-word just yet,” she whispers, forehead resting against his as she struggles to swallow again, her heart suddenly taking up residence under her tongue.  “But I’m also not ready to go back to pretending.”

“Pretending?”

“Yeah.  Pretending that this thing isn’t real.  That I don’t think about kissing you every time I see you.  You know, that kinda stuff.”

He raises his chin slightly, brushing his lips against hers in the most tantalising manner.  “I might be familiar.”

It’s Amy’s turn to sigh against his mouth this time, pushing herself closer to him, reveling in the new sensation of Jake’s lips against hers, and in the back of her mind she wonders why they waited so long to do this.  Something that feels as good as this did, should never have been denied.

His right hand traces light patterns against her shirt, sending tiny shockwaves along her spine, and as the kiss deepens he raises his left arm to pull her closer, the resulting groan of pain vibrating against her lips.  She pulls away with a sigh, eyes flitting straight to his shoulder before returning to his face.    

“You’re going to need someone to keep an eye on you, Jake.  Make sure you don’t …”

“Do anything stupid?”  She shrugs, and he reciprocates with a grin.  “You’re not wrong.  Although, if you want me to come home with you, you could’ve just asked.”

She pulls him in for another kiss, letting her teeth sink into his bottom lip this time in reprimand as she pulls away.  His responding moan does things to her, and the years of repressed feelings begin to fight their way to the surface.  Her head falls to his good shoulder, sighing as his arm circles around her, and although they were still standing in the middle of a hospital room, Amy already feels as if she is home.  

Her actual home however, with all its comforts, beckons, and reluctantly she pulls away, trailing her hand down his right arm until her fingers are linked with his.  

“Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

A blush washes over her, and she resists the urge to tuck her hair away, choosing instead to keep her hand interlocked with his.  Together they move towards the door, for the moment silent as the reality of what they have just started begins to sink in.

And then - 

“So, just out of curiosity … would this be a bad time to mention that I’ve got a real thing for nurses in uniform?” 

She smirks, leaving a mental tick to the checklist already forming in her head. “Duly noted, Detective.” 

[peraltasames]

don’t go sharing your devotion

requested by anonymous - 26. A jealous kiss

read on ao3

Amy wakes to the incessant beeping of the alarm clock on the nightstand, programmed to go off a few minutes before the backup ones on her phone.

While leaning over to hit snooze, feeling oddly sleep-deprived, she realizes a few things.

Despite it being Monday, she’s tangled up in blue sheets instead of white ones, meaning she’s violated her rule of always staying at her own apartment on Sunday nights to ensure that she’s well-rested for the beginning of the new week. She recalls being coerced into staying one more night after an incredible weekend (she hasn’t actually gone home at all in three days). She also recalls staying up way too late last night, reinforcing her reason for the Sunday night rule - a rule that Jake despises and attempts to break every week with about a fifty percent success rate.

She does not understand why she’s alone in the blue sheets when the sole reason that she sleeps in a less comfortable bed in a less clean apartment and gets dressed for work out of a duffel bag half the time is so that she doesn’t wake up alone now that she knows there’s something so much better. In a matter of weeks, waking up to messy brown hair, a warm chest pressed against her back and soft snoring in her ear has become a crucial part of her nearly everyday routine, and her days never seem to go quite as well without it.

Amy doesn’t have much time to lay there pouting about the absence of her boyfriend in bed; before she can call out his name and figure out why on earth he’s awake before her, he’s strolling in, wide awake - already dressed, even - with a mug in each hand and a broad grin on his face.

“Happy Tactical Village day!”

Of course, this would be the only logical explanation for Jake being up before seven. Frankly, she’s surprised she didn’t remember sooner. Amy smiles, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Who’s the character this year?”

“Vladimir Smirnov,” Jake says confidently in a terrible Russian accent, “a former spy seeking revenge from the mob boss that killed the woman that turned him over to the light and taught him how to love.”

Amy laughs at the familiarity of it all, leaving the warmth of the bed to stride over to him and wrap her arms loosely around his neck.

“Definitely better than Rex Buckingham. I think Vic Kovac was the sexiest, though.”

Jake’s eyes widen comically, his hands stilling on her waist. “You were into that?”

She kisses his cheek and strolls off to the bathroom before he can ask any more questions about her formerly bottled-up feelings.

-

“So, we’re paired the Seven-Six this year,” Terry says to the squad as they enter the village, reading from a piece of paper.

“Nice, their arrest numbers were crazy last year,” Rosa says approvingly.

Amy looks around the room, which has no discernible differences from last year’s layout. The hostages and perps are getting ready in the corner while most of the other squads begin to prepare for the course.

“Oh my god, Jake Peralta!”

Amy whips her head around at the voice, higher-pitched than her own and unfamiliar. Standing in front of a group of people that she recognizes to be the Seven-Six is an absolutely stunning woman with shiny light brown hair falling just past her shoulders and piercing blue eyes.

“Katherine, it’s been forever,” Jake says with a small laugh, stepping towards her as she pulls him into a tight hug. “I didn’t know you were with the Seven-Six now.”

The woman - Katherine - releases Jake, still holding him at an arm’s length.

“Yeah, it’s awesome other than the cost of living in Manhattan,” Katherine quips. “You’re still with the Nine-Nine?”

Jake finally turns back to the squad for a moment, which has gradually dispersed to the point that only Amy is still looking at him (and Rosa looking at her with what’s she’s sure is a knowing smirk).

“Yeah! These are my coworkers, Detective Diaz and Detective Santiago.”

Amy forces a polite grin, trying not to care that he referred to her as a colleague - it’s a terribly petty thing to care about, something that she never would care about if it weren’t for the beautiful woman still smiling at him.

“Nice to meet you…sorry, what was it?”

“Detective Katherine Porter,” she states confidently, extending a hand to shake Amy’s firmly. “Peralta and I go way back. We were friends in the academy and dated for a few months right after we started as beat cops.”

The haven’t had the exes talk yet, so Amy shouldn’t be surprised. It isn’t like she thought Jake never had girlfriends - she’s met a few since she’s known him, Sophia being the longest relationship she can recall - but never has she felt the ugly emotion rising in her chest right now. There were many times she felt a tinge of jealousy towards Sophia (like, every time he kissed her or held her hand or, to be honest, even mentioned her name) but now she feels a possessive instinct that is both new and entirely unwelcome.

The gears in her brain must be whirring a mile a minute, her face easily giving away her inner thoughts, because Rosa pulls her away under the guise of “looking at some guns” while Jake continues to chat with Katherine.

“Santiago, you are so jealous.”

Amy wants to object immediately, but even if the gun is just a paintball gun, Rosa holding one is a menacing enough sight that she doesn’t dare lie to her.

“I’m - maybe a little - she’s gorgeous-“

“Amy,” Rosa says sternly. “Jake is obsessed with you. You know it, I know it, anyone who steps within ten feet of him knows it. Who cares about some dumb ex he dated ten years ago?”

“I don’t care.” Amy grabs the nearest gun and fires it at one of the targets, landing a perfect bullseye. “Let’s just get ready for the course, alright?”

Much of the next few minutes consist of Amy busying herself with firearms and trying to avoid watching Katherine follow Jake around the village and laugh at everything Jake says and - god, why is she touching his arm so much?

She’s pretty sure Jake is oblivious of any jealousy she may be harbouring, because when Katherine slips away for a moment he turns to grin at Amy. He’s holding up a huge gun and pretending to shoot at nothing in particular and smiling like a little kid at her, not at Katherine. Still, the feeling lingers.

It lingers when they start the drill and she watches him bust into a room and take down three perps in one swift movement, when he pumps his fist victoriously and turns to high-five her, when Katherine re-emerges out of nowhere immediately afterwards to congratulate him on beating the course record again and hug him again.

Amy would be appreciating his fitted navy t-shirt and the confident aura he’s radiating even if it weren’t for the jealous streak she’s experiencing, but the culmination of everything is enough for her to abandon her attempts to be a “chill” girlfriend who isn’t intimidated by gorgeous women her boyfriend has slept with.

“I’m just gonna borrow Jake for a second, if you don’t mind-“ She grabs his hand and tugs him away from a very confused Katherine, ignoring Jake’s raised eyebrows as she pulls him into the nearest empty room and shuts the door.

“Ames, what’s going-“

She grabs him by the material of his t-shirt and kisses him, feeling him stumble backwards in shock until his back hits the wall and his hands find her waist. When she feels his attempts to pull away, she presses herself closer against him and slides her tongue into his mouth, knowing this will incapacitate him for at least another minute or two.

“Amy,” he finally manages to pull away long enough to say, panting slightly. “Are you okay? Someone could walk in.”

She drops her hands from his hair, taking a small step back and shifting her weight awkwardly.

“Is it a crime to kiss my boyfriend after he just set the course record?”

“It is if you’re Amy Santiago and you have a very definite set of rules for workplace PDA.”

She has been enforcing said rules quite regularly when he tries to hold her hand in the break room during their lunch or steal a kiss in the evidence lockup, despite her constant urge to reciprocate.

“Well, maybe I missed you since you’ve been so busy all day-“

The look on his face quickly informs her that she’s given herself away, somewhere between shock and smugness.

“Hold on. Are you...jealous?”

Amy crosses her arms defensively and opens her mouth to bark out a defense, but she can’t find the words to get her out of this one.

“Maybe a little.” Jake starts laughing, and she hits his arm and furrows her brow. “Don’t laugh at me! I’m only human, Jake, obviously I noticed your beautiful ex-girlfriend flirting with you all day.”

He shakes his head apologetically, stepping forward to grab her hands in his. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I just - there’s no threat there, Ames. I dated her over ten years ago.”

She softens a little, squeezing his hands.

“She just seemed so into you, and I didn’t wanna be the crazy jealous girlfriend, but-“

“She asked me to go to dinner before the drill started.”

Amy raises an eyebrow. “Is there a ‘but’ coming?”

“Is there a ‘but’ coming, title of your-”

“Jake,” she cuts him off with a stern look.

He laughs at his own joke as he tangles their fingers together.

“But I told her I’m not interested, that I’m very happily dating someone else, and she backed off. She’s just an old friend, I have no interest in her or anyone else that’s not you, okay?”

He stares at her for a few moments with the same soft, loving look that has made her melt more than once before, until she finally nods and lets out a sigh, running her hand up his bicep.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats, ducking down to kiss her again. “Also, even though it’s crazy to think I would ever wanna date her when I have you, it doesn’t make you crazy. Remember Tactical Village ‘14, when I followed you and Teddy around all day? I was straight-up obsessed.”

Amy lets out a soft laugh, remembering the days of their blossoming feelings with quiet reverence and a small pang of regret that she didn’t grow to understand her feelings earlier.

“I would’ve gone out with you if you had asked first, dummy.”

“Ugh, that’s what Charles said!” He exclaims, pulling his hand away to slap his forehead. “We suck at timing.”

“Speaking of bad timing…I probably shouldn’t have tried to make out with you at a work event,” Amy says, red creeping onto her cheeks.

“You’re right, we should get out of here.”

Her eyes widen incredulously. “Jake! We have to go back to work after this!”

“We also have a lunch break and my car-”

“Absolutely not.”

She tries to walk out, her stride interrupted by a hand gently tugging her arm and spinning her back around, followed by lips pressing against hers.

When she sighs happily, he pulls away to survey her expression.

“Can I take that as a yes?”

“It’s a maybe,” she murmurs teasingly against his lips.

“Does the fact that I cleaned all the candy wrappers out of the backseat sway your vote?”

(It does.)

[sick-raven]

Ghosts of the Present - Chapter 1

Batman fanfiction

Characters: Jonathan Crane, OC - Miranda Bradbury, Bruce Wayne, John Constantine, Jervis Tetch, Edward Nygma, Clayface, Ra’s al Ghul, Waylon Jones

About: Miranda Bradbury has gotten her life together with help of magic and Jonathan Crane. Now everything seems to go well in her life - she is happy and loved. But as it goes, happiness cannot continue forever. The League of assassins comes in Gotham and Miranda has new reason to fear for her life. Add Jonathan's constant paranoia to the mix, and you get one life-wrecking cocktail.

Author’s note: This story takes place roughly two months after Ghosts of the Past. Without that story it will hardly make sense, so read that one first.

Fair warnings: NSFW, violence, dubcon, less porn than last time, story full of miscommunications

Status: Finished, will post next chapters when in mood.

AO3

Chapter 1

Jonathan found Miranda standing at the window as many times before. As many times before, she looked at him with a faint smile and shook her head. So, he didn’t ask. It’s been two months since her nightmares started. As if the happiness she felt when the ghosts were finally locked up opened door to worse things.

First time she woke up next to him, she scared him. In the middle of the night, with a shout. She was shaking, cold sweat dripping of her face and Jonathan would swear he saw tears. Miranda never cried.

“Are you okay?” Jonathan asked. He had his fair share of nightmares back in the day. Murder of crows. Murder of granny. Her corpse stalking him, telling him he is dirty. That he should be pure in front of God. She will purify him.

He always felt like shit after.

“Yeah,” Miranda would answer massaging her ribs. “Just a nightmare.” Then she would leave to the living room. First few times he went after her and hugged her until the shaking stopped. Later he stayed in bed. He didn’t give up on her.

“It’s not worth it, Jonathan. Get some sleep.”

So, he didn’t comment on it today either. He just made her tea and went about his business. Miranda never told him what haunts her in the dreams and Jonathan didn’t pry. He would hate it, if she did it to him.

Miranda finally joined him at the table.

“Good morning.”

“Is it?” he responded.

“Better. I’m getting used to it. In no time, I will sleep like a baby,” she joked. She always joked when she was lost. That was one of her talents. Another one was she asked for help only when she was truly desperate. Normal things were okay, she always came to him with jar of pickles, as if she wasn’t the muscle in their relationship, but it looked like anything connected to ghosts or her past she grabbed and pulled in. She suffocated it inside herself like a dead rat rotting in her soul. Jonathan felt as if she was more open before Constantine grabbed her ghosts by the neck. The charm bound the ghosts and also Miranda’s tongue. Or maybe he imagined it. Maybe she never was truthful.

“That’s good,” he answered.

Jonathan hated this situation. First, he was psychiatrist. Talking to people was his job. Why was it so hard now? All he needed was to ask what was bothering her. Try to clarify. Sometimes just talking about it can shun away the trouble. Dreams weren’t that difficult to fix. Yet, he couldn’t get himself to try.

Second, he felt useless. He tried to help Miranda before and, in the end, she ran to get help elsewhere. Is this why she doesn’t ask anymore? He is not good enough, he understands mind, not magic. If the ghosts are acting up, he might never know. She would go after that face-stealing freak in trench coat who… who was able to help her, unlike useless Crane.

And third, he was worried. If she was still haunted, no telling what she will do. Her brain was interesting mix of patience, intelligence and blindness. One day she will get killed because she will act out in rush. Another shock like that he wouldn’t stand.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he tried.

Miranda, biting her thumb, looked surprised. Then smiled. “I think we should talk about more important things. Are we going formal or formal tonight?”

Very well, he will follow her wishes.

“Armed, but in all politeness.”

“Masks?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t wait,” she grinned. She’s been excited about tonight for a week. Jonathan didn’t understand the appeal, but he was happy to see her smile again.

“Just remember you are a bodyguard,” he reminded her.

“I will not embarrass you in front of the Legion,” she replied.

“Thank you.”

Miranda smiled into her cup. “Sorry I’m a mess. I promise I will get my shit together.”

“I don’t doubt that. Just know I am here to help.”

“Never forgot.”

Somehow, he doubted it.

***

Miranda never doubted Jonathan would hear her out, but what would that help against the reoccurring memory that woke her every night? It wasn’t even one of the worst ones, yet it made her tremble and cry.

Crying was so freeing after emotionless years and yet it made her feel ridiculous. She locked away the bastards, she nearly overdosed on Jonathan’s medication and it snapped something inside her. No more following the League’s training, no more closing herself down. With pain in her heart she let emotions free and… She felt once again. Feeling…

Miranda was sure feelings unlocked her nightmares.

Five or six, that’s how old she was when this happened. The dream showed her scenes, but she remembered more vividly. Every time she woke from it her memory jogged and filled the gaps the dream left uncovered. It eased it and made it worse at the same time as her mind started racing, not allowing her to go back to sleep.

Little girl ran from the kitchen holding a piece of bread she stole. She climbed out of window and aimed up. Roof was the only place she felt safe at. Nobody ever looked for her there. Cold wind and snow were hitting her face as she was getting higher.

Shouting in the house let her know she will be spanked or worse when they find her. But any punishment is fine as long as you face it with full stomach, that’s what she learned. Yelling, beating, the ugly fat fuck and his whips, none of that hurt as bad as starving.

Feeling like a winner she reached the top of the house. Warm feeling in her chest, happy she got away with it again. She wasn’t good for nothing spawn, she could take care of herself!

Master stood there, waiting with cold stare in her brown eyes. Her short black hair showed first signs of grey and that made her look even more strict. The girl froze, her throat stiffened, the fear ran through her spine. Feeling of victory was gone.

“Unbelievable,” said the master in calm voice that she used before punishments. “You are stupider than I thought, girl.”

Master kicked the girl in the face.

The cold surface of roof slipped through girl’s fingers.

Miranda was falling.

She woke up with a scream and loud crack noise in her ears.

You cannot fight memories, you just have to let them weaken. The impact will disappear in time. A question still hoovered over her. How was it so significant that it made her doubt? Just because of this memory she hurt again. Not only herself but also Jonathan. She had ton of memories that shook her bones even awake. Why the fall?

“Stupid girl can’t figure it out, as I expected,” she heard voice of master in her head.

“I would love it if you shut the fuck up,” Miranda answered.

“What?” asked Terry.

Miranda sighed annoyed over herself. “Sorry, just arguing with the voices in my head.”

Terry shook their head. They got used to Miranda’s occasional weird behaviour. She always talked to herself when she thought nobody is looking and sometimes it slipped in front of other people. “Have you considered shrink, boss?” Terry suggested while putting stuffed bears into the shelf.

“Yes.”

“I mean normal one, not your boyfriend.”

“You are on thin ice, Terry.”

“Sorry, just looking after you.”

Miranda stayed quiet, she didn’t want to snap at Terry. After the rough start they got along well. Terry relaxed a bit, Miranda even invited them for dinner at her place. That turned out to be horrible idea, because Jonathan used it as an excuse to interrogate Terry. Person tries to kill you once and he won’t let it go!

“Just poke me when I get lost in thoughts again,” Miranda said.

“Can do. Hey, boss. Would you mind if I took Saturday off?”

Miranda frowned. “Why?”

“I might have a date, if you let me.”

Saturday was the worst possible day. Miranda needed to be someplace else. “Can’t you do Friday?”

“No, sorry.”

Miranda sighed and waved her hand. “But you have to work twice as much today, get it?”

“Thanks, boss!”

“And give me their name so I can make sure they are good for you.”

“No way,” smiled Terry and Miranda relaxed a bit. World was running as it should have. Her stupid nightmares cannot ruin what she built. There is nothing to fear but fear itself, that’s what Jonathan taught her. Saturday was far  enough, she will figure something out.

Now she just has to focus on her evening.

***

“Remember, just a bodyguard,” Jonathan reminded her as they were getting ready to go for the big meeting. Miranda made sure her weapons were well conceived. Getting accused of potentially trying to kill your co-workers was not on the list tonight.

“You say it like last time it was my fault. It takes two to rodeo, you know,” she replied.

“Therefore, I expect you will be the reasonable one today.”

Miranda grinned. Sky will fall before Jonathan accepts any mistake. Even though – could they call it a mistake? Embarrassment for sure, but nothing bad happened!

“I doubt Legion of Doom meeting will have alcohol.”

“Can we not discuss this now?”

Jonathan was awkward about it while Miranda thought it was hilarious. Long story short, two weeks ago there was a party at Iceberg Lounge. Even there Miranda went as a bodyguard. This created one big gossip – Jonathan was always a solo player and now he needs a bodyguard? The worst was Edward Nygma, or, as Gotham called him, the Riddler. The whole evening he walked around Jonathan with stupid comments.

“Has Scarecrow kidnapped a girlfriend?” “Johnny Boy has to pay?” “That potato sack sure brings ladies in.” “Riddle me this, who is scary virgin?”

Miranda was ready to slice his throat, but Jonathan stopped her with the calmest look possible. “It’s okay. Edward stoops to insulting when he runs out of riddles a five-year-old could solve.”

That ended up with both men bickering like two little kids. And then drinking vodka as a peace offering, as they set their differences aside with: “I like your girlfriend,” and: “Your riddles aren’t stupid.” Miranda joined them during fifth or sixth shot, because they insisted the lady cannot fall behind. Arguably, she was the most sober one and she also remembered the most.

Long story shorter – Jonathan and Miranda got pissed drunk and ended up making out by the entrance to the Lounge so pretty much everyone saw them. That finished Jonathan’s tries to take it easy, stay secret, don’t embarrass each other in front of other rouges.

Good thing he didn’t remember the fact they hid in janitor’s closet for a quickie and when they left, Nygma was leaning on an ash tray by the toilets, shitfaced, clapping slowly.

At least he stopped joking around. Miranda wondered whether he remember more than Jonathan. Erasing all security cameras feed next day was the best thing she could do anyways.

So, yes, they should definitely avoid doing this at Legion of Doom meeting.

“Legion meets only so often. If someone needs professional help, a team of specialists. Anyone can find henchmen, but sometimes you need bigger guns. Not anyone can summon the meeting, just few members have that power,” Jonathan explained to her when he got the invitation.

“Do you?”

“Oh no, I am low level. B-list villain, if you will.”

“For me you will always be A league.”

She loved how he smirked at compliments.

So, today was the big day. As they rode in elevator, Miranda got a bit nervous. She’s heard a lot about Legion of Doom. They were villains allied against Justice League. When they did something, it was huge. Who will they meet there? Joker? Luthor? Some other cool guy?

The elevator door opened into a small conference room. Miranda lost her breath. She expected big but not this big.

At the table sit giant man covered in scales. His face was deformed, jaws with sharp teeth covered in blood as if he just returned from lunch and the lunch was live chicken.

Jonathan paid no attention to that abomination. He sat at the table. Miranda followed his example and she stood beside him scanning the rest of the room. Except for giant… crocodile?... there were several of Gotham’s worst. She didn’t recognize everyone – there was Poison Ivy, she looked as if she didn’t want to be here. And Edward Nygma, he smiled and winked at Jonathan when they entered, but he didn’t say a word. The rest of people she didn’t know. There was this small guy in a top hat whose eyes frantically looked around the room. Another one was very plain woman – something Miranda aimed to be, invisible for naked eye. Uninteresting. Maybe they were unknown bodyguard and henchmen like she was. Or they didn’t cause mayhem while she lived in Gotham. Miranda wasn’t here long enough to read about every B-list jerk.

They all sat there in silence for good twenty minutes. Finally, Nygma couldn’t take it anymore.

“Does anyone know who summoned us here?” he said in annoyed tone of voice. “I have more important matters than to sit here.”

“No,” answered Poison Ivy. “Invitation came in normally.”

“Do friends want some tea?” asked the top hat man.

“I don’t have time for this,” grumbled the crocodile man. “I’m hungry!”

“Biscuits?”

“I will bite your head off!”

“Calm down, Waylon. Let’s give it five more minutes,” decided Jonathan.

“In five minutes I will eat your face, crow man!”

“I want to see you try, Croc. I will make you shake and cry like a toddler.”

“Everybody just wait it out,” the uninteresting woman said. “Waiting is part of the big play, to see if we are worth it.”

“Screw that,” Nygma smirked.

Do you see that, Miranda? That’s why bad guys work alone. Only crazy people would force them to cooperate. Jonathan is not insane, if something stupid is suggested, he won’t take it, right? She couldn’t imagine working with neither of these. Maybe Poison Ivy, but her hate towards humans would make the cooperation impossible. She just sat there, arms folded, didn’t join the arguing. Miranda would love to have her indifference right now. Legion of Doom seemed more like Legion of Fools.

The clock was ticking, and it already seemed like they will just give up and leave, when the elevator dinged, and the door opened.

Miranda nearly screamed. It took every muscle and brain cell to force herself to stay calm. Don’t run! Don’t move a fucking muscle, Miranda! shouted voice in her head.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! shouted the other voice.

And between them the master chuckled like some sort of Bond villain.

A man walked in the room. The bickering stopped and everyone was watching him. He stood at the table and looked at every attendant there. Miranda stopped breathing when their eyes met. I will die!

But he continued looking around as if Miranda was just regular part of the room. Just another piece of furniture. Boring.

Calm down, Miranda. He has no idea who you are.

She knew exactly who he was though.

Ra’s al Ghul. The Demon’s head. The leader of the League of assassins.

Miranda looked at Jonathan. He didn’t seem phased by the entrance of one of the most dangerous men alive at all. Frankly, she never told him what organization she used to be part of, but he should also freak out. Everyone should cry for mercy! How are they so calm?

“Finally,” said Edward. “I thought we will die here of boredom.”

What the fuck, Nygma!? Do you want to die!? You should kneel and hope he will not chop your head off!

Calm your tits, Miranda!

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

“I apologize for the lateness. Gotham traffic is disgusting, just like this city,” said the Demon’s head. “I will not hold you much longer. I have a job for each of you.”

“Is this job worth calling Legion of Doom meeting?” questioned the plain lady.

“It requires work of you all. It will move the foundation of the city itself. Of course, you will be rewarded if glory and change isn’t on your bucket list. If you mind.” He handed out envelopes to each of them. Jonathan opened his. Miranda felt the need to look over his shoulder. Just a bodyguard! She didn’t do it.

Nygma chuckled. “How do you want to compensate us for this?” he waved the paper. “I’m not your soldier, I am not suicidal.”

“Read it all before asking any questions,” said Ra’s.

With shit-eating grin Nygma read the rest of the letter. His eyes followed the lines of text and lower he got, the more shocked his expression grew.

“What is this shit?” growled Waylon.

“Your task and your reward,” Ra’s stated the obvious. “I am sure you all know what I am offering. No secret stays safe in Gotham. I need your answer now.”

“I’m in,” said Jonathan without a second to think about it. Miranda bit her lip under the mask. In!? He will cooperate with the Demon’s head!? Is he really insane!?

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

“Me too,” agreed Nygma. “I will show him for the last time.”

One after one the rogues agreed to help Ra’s al Ghul. Even the giant crocodile grinned big, his teeth slimy like a fish. “I like easy jobs.”

And Miranda stood there not ready to die.

***

The world was in mist. Miranda’s mind blank. She had no idea how they left the lair or how she got to Jonathan’s place. As if the body wasn’t hers and some outside force was leading her steps.

“So, what do you think about the Legion? Did it fulfil your expectations?”

Miranda blinked.

And ran to the bathroom to throw up

Next chapter

[airoasis]

"Hell" | Father Ted | Series 2 Episode 1 | Dead Parrot

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/hell-father-ted-series-2-episode-1-dead-parrot-2/

"Hell" | Father Ted | Series 2 Episode 1 | Dead Parrot

Young Tom that is the primary time you can be entrusted with any such colossal consignment or all three are most of the time over yet? Don’t involved about me is on an investor Tom that is the button that opens the doorways and that is the button that makes the so we shoot out this one for the doorways and this will likely shove the top and the other way round Rheya July the nineteenth. We that strike me important. Yes Tonight 19. I would not be aware of Ted you giant bother i am sorry. I mentioned i would not know ted you colossal baller have you ever been studying these roddy Doyle box once more do I? Have yet had a big ? So that is all well, however you have to keep in mind. They’re just reports traditional persons like us. Do not use that sort of language keep in mind this is the true world. Oh, you are correct there ted Anyway, any thought why july the nineteenth will have to be so main stands out as the day of the ice age ended? No, it are not able to be that targeted concerning the ice age regarded it up on the diary July 19th on at the moment at Galway liberated from Indians Marathon turns into snickers Ha stated, I say Jen Time for tea father Mrs..Doran some thing strike you is principal about july the nineteenth. It doesn’t matter. What day is his father there may be perpetually time for a best cup of tea should not i know him despatched from the cross pause for a nice cup of tea earlier than giving him for the ? No, he failed to Mrs.. Doyle some thing apparatus. They’d 40 keep her ceaselessly talking of cake. I have cake i am pleasant for cake with the toys is your father there may be cocaine in it oh you’re not cocaine what am I a debauch? No? I named which referred to as them intent right is not going to thank you do not be small.It’s just a tiny little thing you won’t even feel it going in you won’t even comprehend your nation will know i’m using it mrs.. Doyle look at you. Will not you seem at this reisman? It’s infrequently even a cake it’s an micro cake that is going. I particularly is not going to have any location. Come on now. It is obtained Raisins Cherry Cinnamon cinnamon oil, virtually I do recognize cinnamon. K, . Going what the heck? I will have one three no i’m forcing it no, no you’re not Why now not cinnamon no? No, you are just being polite if you don’t want any all you have to do is say, no simply that one little word no it can be a lovely word our lord gave to make use of right here on the earth, but we do not need any cake.Yes Justice i’d sincerely love some cake Mrs.. Doyle while you can’t have any I? Was once cake no no i’m simply going out to have these destroyed Anyway, this spacing is bothering me now, july the nineteenth. That is some thing. We normally do on july the nineteenth this is anything to do with Jack probably oh, God. It is now not is oh no? Wait, this turns ugly take into account simply before Christmas. Oh, thank God for that. Oh, God almighty You okay, I feel um So what might or not it’s? Excursion where are we going how head God I don’t know pearson Pearson’s no, Mr.. Pearson does not really like humans staying with him below vacations. It can be now not truely a guest apartment mouth no recall the gigantic arguments.We control them final 12 months when we tried to remain at 2nd studying hello, you understand we would father o’rourke has that Caravan and he mentioned we might customers and he said we need to oh no mentioned No, no longer again. It is very small that Caravan no he is acquired a new one. Thank . It’s twice It was once the one at the finish there may be seem colossal We’re here father.Thank God. Think the best Caravan in the whole world – girl where’s the trailer with the entire stuff us? Subsequent thing you’ll be able to be telling me you failed to lock the entrance door Ted come on right in minute father. I promise you this is very restricted. Good, you understand this is what it is all about go to back. I am wrinkling up your raisin in there the backing of sake below Ted Crilley Island Parochial condominium Craggy Island accident Cra Ggy island on she officer I cannot express regret adequate God for ok. It can be no longer a different one. Which one is So this is excellent. You know it is higher than a third one What we do first , I? Will take it handy for a whilst. I believe we must you already know just get settled into the historical proper that’s sufficient of that the place we go? Oh, here’s the booklet eight? Oh? Places of interest ship Kevin Stomp hMM.Sounds excellent the Magic avenue, two places of interest what is the Magic road Ted? Some of these bizarre typical wonders for everything’s long past haywire, and nothing works the best way. It can be presupposed to it’s like you Google except on the street I nonetheless do not realise. It’s a kind of a mannequin. Yes it’s what’s referred to as a unusual phenomenon if you stop to coroner’s and took off the hand rig it might roll uphill and Water would flow workplace practically as mad as that thing you instructed me about the lows in the that is when our lord acquired only one or two bits of food And was a whole pile of meals and every body has it for dinner. God. He used to be amazing wasn’t I? He is great Father jack do you’ve got any preferences vacation? Sure? We’re on excursion would you like to head anywhere what? Would you love to move somewhere? How are you ? Used to be just asking would you love to move someplace now that we’re right here would you like to move free beautiful walk? I like cake sure, yeah discontinue speakme to father Jack.The place are you? What’s that in there? Are mighty? God, let’s simply get him to sleep and we head off ourselves, father into your field Let’s go appear for the Magic the holiday starts here doogal Come on. Let’s play Did you deliver the travel Scrabble Duel I? Introduced the typical Scrabble and the journey Scrabble ted the journey Scrabble for when we had been touring and the average Scrabble for after we arrived good man. Understand wait a minute now that I feel of it. I did not carry either them proper auto the Monopoly just so uh what we do for the subsequent two weeks. We will put on the kettle yeah, go on must be one of the most ones that clicks off automatically. Sure It gave the impression there incidentally did you carry any teabags no? Rice , head yeah when I put extra water in and turn it on once more No, i’m I favored it pleasant the first time perhaps we might turn it on without hanging any water in in any respect See what occurred? Do not feel you must do that this kind of is We simply blow up and you would be opting for lumps of steel out of your face for the 12 months and a half You get gigantic purple blotches and the espresso fish lips greater than the relaxation of your face like colossal precisely like father massive lee.Possibly that is what happened to him 96 ninety seven 99 100 coming capable or not you can actually sing 5 okay, one final time These are small, but the ones out there are some distance away far away, I omit know how your eyes generally play a methods in it ? Know Father Larry Doff Larry yeah, he routinely comes round to terry when he gets a spoil. He’s massive fun supply him a name on his cell mobilephone. Acquired a month for Christmas. He is continually complaining that nobody ring the screen What time it switched off? Why is it calling Kevin discontinue? Would not say So this would all holidays are like head definitely yeah Anyway, we higher get again to Jack I to find. He said it’s a foot by the cliffs hi there will we go over to the rocking again head? Good Come on. Ted. We’re on holidays pay attention. All proper. We better get back to Jackson , right? Well here, we’re well, we go over to final time no ted. No, we could just blow off the excitement if we did that now save something for subsequent week father Eggy Island with out sea or She comprehend I left listen the whole trade of reporting lacking folks.We’ve heard of it. Yes well price any cash to file a lacking person no? Trish inform you . We look to have lost one in every of our social gathering father Jack hackers. . How would you describe them? Mid-50s to mid eighties. She would simply spend a vegetable is most of the time for some purpose very angry man hates children likes the ah drink and in the event you to find him don’t come up on them from at the back of you won’t like in any respect thing do you raise those electric Stunner items, oh Boy, oh, no purpose that is right some thing else. I will do for you while i am here want to confess eighty unsolved murders or whatever ? We’re great for you all unsolved murders Some vacation, this is starting to be come on. Please no Jack’s long gone to be extra space to Caravan oh Why? I have no idea like what a excellent name you doing right here well surely this is our caravan my father wrote that we would use us. Sure see I suppose it used to be there to everyone in these days you’ll room for 2 more lisette look youth team Morton bast it down there.I mean I no discontinue fucking with the music wanted to Noah Yeah, are you’ll you alw voice very like Celine dion? We’re dancin come on Solomon Fl them truely you recognize i’m really tired What maybe you’re right really we’re calling it exhaustively all considering? A few of us overdid it on local that is satisfactory Jerry knows who i am talking about Yeah you understand you are correct again at us.What’s been half 10? Johnny knows i’m speakme out there. Don’t you do not you sure i will see you are the just one to Kneeling Tommy lee. Can you recognize all sweetness and lightweight? We ought to like that wrap tightly O Southern for lunch you are a pleasant fella. What else would you say? I am . What are you do they go collectively? We all know that i do know you i am wager. What ? How are you? The historical town city oh, God does he have any worn out? There are mad drought? – yes, . We will have to all go to bed. We’re so nearly chopped Oh, but mostly to get some heroin . I am simply going to bathroom father all correct someone else must go hate google. Are you k? We’re grams. Thanks. Nostril. Are you definite now ted you do not want two exact good things i am going again the worst thing would be to keep it in on account that you are higher Google minkus yes, a pal of mine father sweeney.He had an extraordinarily small Gathering boat besides, however Terry’s chocolate orange. No I rather? I am fine ok you adore a bunch of camels appear on the napping bag house will it don’t be this comes no longer just a tune the extra the merrier on the grounds that Columns are a exceptional football workforce in the mid 50’s consider did they received the father fitzgibbon law enforcement officials? Father would give one more give up. He gave the impression of a cop loopy right here like handle Delirium jed did did you see recollect yeah? I bear in mind him no Hmm. Who’s omit Anna Moaning Michael tonight? God almighty. It can be nearly o’clock in morning. I think what we should all do now could be stand up you go experiences i go mad let’s get overdoing it. Let’s go residence Who’s that now? Is that is fending off to the Disco don’t handiest us. We’re simply heading out for some recent air keep in mind to carry his back from right eat some thing probabilities are long gone back to Craggy Island is amazing homing intuition Opens the prize wheeled in the front door to search out him there with a significant smiley face his palms outstretched to welcome us again what? Good might be that’s a smiley face Are the outstretched palms or the welcome again? He’s on the whole there? Oh God do get him out fast adorbs here Open please open there all proper there ted. A reasonable bit away. Sure, what you have been speeding up their mattress Sorry about that bloody pervert he is ordinarily very bloodless now that his home is going away each i will feel about that for a while simply i am sure he’s gonna start doing out to it appear at Amber failed to see him.Do not you feel it? , we better let them all get along Get out of the vehicle hello once more proper I believe he’s down somewhat. I do know No enough no come on Davis proving expertise that such nonsense the tires head i will be able to inform you impressing nobody with that kind of factor? I will tear them so tired. Maybe we must return no no no. I am now not going anywhere near an historic for long again knows what the kids have to follow now that’s enormous. Talk. Thanks. Give us a carry. Oh, God hiya, Fellas. Oh. God um we want a raise. They may be now not fatter after I’m down and opened at all Sorry that fight Your valuable father your week, thank God play on boy you’ve gotten anything drink 97 ninety eight ninety nine 100 coming now competent or no you you

[my-adhd-gremlin-blog]

My 2021 Reads

I haven't done anything like this before, but considering that I did quite a bit of reading this year (more than just re-reads, like I usually do), I figured I should do a recap of everything I read and give each book a mini review.

January

Loki: Where Mischief Lies, Mackenzi Lee

4/5. I love Loki, but he did my boy Theo dirty and I have to take a point off him for that.

February

Unbirthday, Liz Braswell

3/5. This book got better towards the end, but I felt like I had to drag myself through the first 20 or so chapters.

His Dark Materials Trilogy, Philip Pullman

3/5. Again, I felt like I had to drag myself through most of it, and The Amber Spyglass was a bit of a let down. The Subtle Knife was my fave.

Little Manfred, Michael Morpurgo

5/5. A re-read, but damn, if Michael Morpurgo doesn't warm my heart ❤

March - April

Wayward Son, Rainbow Rowell

5/5. Re-read ahead of the release of Any Way The Wind Blows. The angst. The drama. I love it.

Autoboyography, Christina Lauren

4/5. I originally gave this a 3 because of the homophobia, but I re-read it again recently and decided to mark it up because while yes, the homophobia hurts, it's necessary to the story, and what a great story it is.

Good Omens, Terry Pratchett & Neil Gaiman

5/5. It is ineffable how much I loved this book.

May

Here The Whole Time, Vitor Martins

5/5. SO. CUTE.

June

We Were Liars, E. Lockhart

4/5. This book blew my mind. I only marked it down because the writing style had me zoning out at times.

These Witches Don't Burn/This Coven Won't Break, Isabel Sterling

3/5. I didn't HATE these books, I thought the plot was very interesting, but the romance felt a little bit forced for me.

July

Any Way The Wind Blows, Rainbow Rowell

3/5. As the third and final book, the conclusion, I was a little disappointed. At least Baz finally got his erotic gropefest, and Shepard, my beloved, you're doing great, sweetie 😚😂

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe, Benjamin Alire Sáenz

4/5. This book was hecking beautiful.

Red, White and Royal Blue, Casey McQuiston

4/5. Re-read. Henry is my spirit animal (same birthday, Pisces gang, useless, gay, and Britsih 🤣). Marked down coz American politics make brain go 😴

They Both Die At The End, Adam Silvera

5/5. *ugly sobbing*

Cinderella Is Dead, Kalynn Bayron

4/5. I love a re-telling, but much like Isabel Sterling's books, the romance felt a bit rushed for my liking.

August - September

Go The Distance, Jen Calonita

4/5. Disney flavoured Hades/Persephone baBEY. Also, Meg getting some god(dess)ly appreciation 👌

The Book of Dust: The Secret Commonwealth, Philip Pullman

3/5. Honestly, I just have a love/hate relationship with Philip Pullman's books.

October

A Thousand Splendid Suns, Khalid Hosseini

5/5. I cried.

And The Mountains Echoed, Khalid Hosseini

5/5. I cried again.

November

Felix Ever After, Kacen Callender

4/5. I loved this book, but it caused me second hand stress 😂. I know that isn't the book's fault, or the author's, but as someone who has been re-evaluating their gender identity, this book just hit too close to home, so I marked it down. One existential crisis at a time, please 🤣

The Song of Achilles, Madeline Miller

3/5. I may get hate for this, because I know how beloved this book is to so many people, but... I thought it was overrated and underwhelming. Dare I even say... boring... I'm sorry.

The House In The Cerulean Sea, T.J. Klune

5/5. Sometimes a family is a birb man, an angry sprite, a homicidal gnome, a wyvern who loves buttons, an angry sprite (lite), an introverted pomeranian, a... whatever Chauncey is, the literal antichrist and their caseworker. (This book was unbearably, tooth-rottingly sweet and fluffy 😍)

Afterlove, Tanya Byrne

3/5. If I had to describe this book, I'd say it's almost like a wlw of They Both Die At The End, except not as depressing. I only gave this a 3 because I wasn't very invested, I didn't particularly fall in love with any of the characters, and while the plot itself is intriguing, finishing this book didn't really make me sad or give me a book hangover.

One Last Stop, Casey McQuiston

4/5. Yes. Amazing. Thanks, Casey.

December

Wranglestone, Darren Charlton

4/5. This book gave me Gravity Falls vibes (the Society of the Blind Eye episode in particular). The romance was super cute, and it was a great book to read to get me in the wintery mood. My only downside: more zombies. You can never have too many zombies 🤣

Heartstopper, Alice Oseman

5/5. CUUUUUTTTEE. I can't wait for the Netflix show.

Under The Whispering Door, TJ Klune

5/5.

Me at the start of the book: haha, funny ghost shenanigans

Me in the middle of the book: oh... oh

Me at the end of the book: *curled in a ball, ugly crying*

This book, man. It's all fun and games, then the depression hits, and it does not stop throwing punches 😭😭😭🤣🤣 I loved it.

All I've learned from this post is that the angstier the book, the more I enjoy it 🤣 (the odd exceptions, of course.)

2022 TBR

Aristotle and Dante Dive into the Waters of the World, Benjamin Alire Sáenz

Six Crimson Cranes, Elizabeth Lim

So This Is Love, Elizabeth Lim

What Once Was Mine, Liz Braswell

Evil Thing, Serena Valentino

Cold Hearted, Serena Valentino

Legendborn, Tracy Deonn

This Poison Heart, Kalynn Bayron

These Violent Delights, Chloe Gong

[miasswier]

miasswier’s ultimate glee ranking: no 70

70: Mash-Up

Written by: Ian Brennan Directed by: Eloide Keene

Overall Thoughts: I don’t remember liking this episode as much as I did on this re-watch. In fact, in my pre-watch list I ranked it a lot lower than how it’s currently ranked. I think I was just remembering all the bad stuff (and there is, indeed, bad stuff) and forgetting the good stuff. It’s actually a really good episode, even if it’s not as good as the past two episodes. Definitely better than “The Rhodes Not Taken” and “Showmance”, both of which I originally ranked it below.

What I Like:

Will and Sue dancing. It’s an awesome scene, and it’s quite sweet. I wish we’d gotten more of Will and Sue as friends instead of always as adversaries.

Emma killing it in both that ugly ass wedding dress and that gorgeous wedding dress. She literally looks amazing in both. How? Who the fuck knows. But she really looks awesome.

Much like Terri in “Throwdown”, Emma is shown to be a lot more human here than she has in past episodes (with “Vitamin D” being an exception). Emma is not just the nice to Terri’s mean in this episode; she’s a genuine human being with feelings and emotions and flaws and complexities. She’s funny and mean. She’s a person. It’s refreshing to see her as more than just an embodiment for the show’s desired reaction to Will Schuester.

Quinn and her fucking sunglasses. Oh my god. During the scene where they’re waiting to see if the football guys show up to Glee and she’s just fucking wearing those ridiculous glasses. I die.

Rachel and Puck’s break-up scene. It’s a sweet moment, even if it has a bittersweet end. I’m not a fan of this relationship (more on that later), but I really like this scene. For the first time since “Preggers” Puck is coming across as a human being that we can empathize with instead of just a background meathead. And Rachel calling him out for being a jerk is awesome.

Kurt in Bust a Move. The way he silently judges and then apprehensively joins but is obviously too cool for school about it with his dumbass tambourine. What a nerd.

Kurt slushying himself for Finn. I think what I like most about this scene is the way it ends, and how it really drives home the message this episode is trying to get across: Finn runs away, alone, and Kurt is led into the bathroom by his friends. Being popular is not the same as having friends, and at the end of the day, what is really more important?

Sue in that fucking zoot suit. Amazing.

Quinn absolutely breaking down after Sue kicks her off the Cheerios. It made me tear up, which shows just how amazingly emotional it is. Dianna Agron really kills it in this role.

Will getting slushied at the end (special shout-out to Rachel having ZERO FUCKING AIM)

“I will go to the animal shelter and get you a kitty-cat. I will let you fall in love with that kitty-cat.  And then on some dark, cold night, I will steal away into your home and punch you in the face.”

What I Didn’t Like:

Will acting all high and mighty to Ken about how he hasn’t encouraged Emma when he’s literally spent the last eight episodes flirting with her despite thinking his wife is pregnant. Fuck off, Will.

Other than their break up scene, I’ve always been uncomfortable with Puck and Rachel. I don’t like them as a couple, in any way, shape, or form. Honestly, I have a hard time with any couple where one half of the couple used to bully the other half. Puck buys Rachel a slushie as a romantic gesture and says he knows she likes grape because she licked her lips after he fucking threw it in her face. The height of romance y’all.

Quinn and Finn struggle equally with losing status in this episode, and yet once again it’s Finn’s struggle that is highlighted. While I find Quinn wearing those sunglasses all episode long to be hilarious, it’s also sort of making light of her worries while Finn’s get the center stage.

Will telling Quinn that it’s okay to be slushied because she has friends to help her instead of going to the principal and saying that he has twelve students who have literally all been hit with a slushie in the face. I get what he was trying to say (friendship is more important than popularity) but it just ends up seeming like another example in the endless list of Terrible Teaching Moments by William Schuester

Will singing The Thong Song to Emma, while she is in a wedding dress. Ew.

Ken taking out his anger on his relationship issues with Emma on Will instead of talking to Emma like a damn ass adult. I get that Emma is terrible to him and therefore probably wouldn’t listen, but seriously. Even if Will definitely encourages her more than he thinks he does, at the end of the day it’s not his fault that Emma has feelings for him that she absolutely clings to.

Rod. What a skeevy guy. Ugh.

Songs

Bust a Move: Make. Will. Stop. Rapping. Please. Like, okay, it’s an entertaining performance, but for fuck’s sake.

Thong Song: Listen. I hate this scene. It grosses me out. It makes me really uncomfortable. But I actually like this song. It’s a guilty pleasure. I’m sorry.

Sweet Caroline: Probably the best performance of this episode. Even if it’s in the context of Puckleberry it’s still a good song and a good performance.

I Could Have Danced All Night: I mean, Emma sounds good, but I find the song boring and the scene stressful. You can’t just dance around a wedding gown dressing room. Especially not in the wedding dress you haven’t even bought yet. No wonder the attendant was looking so worried! I would be too.

Final Thoughts: Not as bad after a re-watch as I remember it being. It takes a break from the overload of Finn/Rachel/Quinn drama, which is really nice. Plus, it includes the funniest line to ever be spoken on Glee, so.

[thoughtsofdarc]

My Latest Mission... pt.2

A Hydra asset always obeys orders… Don’t they?

Reader (Y/N), Alexander Pierce, Rumlow, Steve and Bucky. Warnings: A few swear words. Being an Hydra asset. Violence. Angst(?), blood.  Words: 1881

A/N: So this is the first time i do a part 2 of anything. I have a more ideas to continue this story.. i hope i can do it ;)  Please leave feedback *Puppydog eyes* I want to know what is good, and what is bad...  Also, i’ve tried to tag a few people in this - that’s a first time too (tags at the end). You guys gave me a positive feedback on the first part, so i thought you might be interested in the second part too... please let me know, if you want to be removed. 

Part 1

"Fuck off, Rumlow!" I glare at the man that was standing in the weapon storage room with me "or I swear to God, I will knock you out... Again!"

He scoff at the memory of the, now 7, times that I had knocked him out cold, but he wasn't fazed for long.

 "All I'm saying Y/n, is that you are going up against Captain America himself... You can't handle him alone. I'd be happy to do it for you, I know him... Besides, Pierce is old, he doesn't know what the fuck he is doing by sending you out there alone" he has a look on his face, as If I was a bug that needs to be squashed.

 "Right, because it went so well all the other times that you where face to face with Rogers! It's not like he kicked your ass over and over again! Oh, just like I have... Maybe he and I could become friends" I send him a death stare 

"I'm going on this mission alone, so fuck the hell off, Rumlow!"

 As I said the last words, Pierce walked in the room. He gives Rumlow a look that says 'back off', it makes Rumlow growl a bit, but he retracts to the other end of the room.

 "I trust that you are ready to head off by now, y/n? The chopper is leaving in half an hour to your drop off point"

 I put the last gun and a few knives in the back, not looking at Pierce when I answer. He hates when I don't show him that respect, but I don't care.

"I'm all set, if you just get your lapdog off my ass" I point towards Brock, who in return flips me off.

 "Get the hell out of here Rumlow! I'll call you when I need you back" Pierce dismissed the bitter man and looked back at me

"Get our asset back y/n. And kill the captain any way you see fit"

 Pierce mistake my grim smile for me planning the Captains' murder. Actually I'm planning anything other than that.

  I'm staring at the photo in the file, looking at Steve thinking back to when we were kids.

The first time we met he got beat up trying to defend me, I was no more than 7 years old.

The sound of the chopper fades out as my memories takes over. 

 "Your dad left you and your mom because you are an ugly monster Y/N!" the big boy with the messy brown hair and the runny nose yell, making all of the other kids laugh.

 "He did not! Take it back!" I yell at him, tears threatening to fall down my cheeks.

"He did so! He left and got a better family! He couldn't stand to look at you one more day, that's how ugly you are!"

 My dad had left, and he never explained why. One day I just found my mom in the kitchen, crying and staring out of the window.  When I asked her what was wrong, she just hugged me really tight and told me that it was just me and her now. I did ask her where papa was, but she just shook her head and sobbed into her hands. 

 The tears finally fall and my vision is blurry as I launch myself against the big boy, kicking and screaming.

He just gives me a hard push and I land flat on the ground, scraping my elbow as I land. A big sob leaves me as I sit up and look around to see all the kids laughing and pointing fingers at me.

 A skinny kid with clothes a tad too big for him kneels beside me and takes my hand. "You okay?" he asks, big blue eyes searching my face and my body for injuries. All I can do is nod, I'm not that sure my voice works right now.

 He pulls me to my feet, helping me brush off the dirt on my dress.

 "Ooh, you have a girlfriend? huh, Rogers?" the larger boy mock and sniffle "Rogers and y/n sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g... No wait, Rogers can't climb up the tree, he isn't strong enough!" he shrieks. All the kids laugh, sing the song again and point fingers at us.

 "Leave him alone!" I squeak up. The kid they call Rogers look at me with a shy smile. He has a sweet smile I notice.

 "So, you're going to let girls protect you now? That's not very manly of you Rogers" the runny nosed kid mock again but this time Rogers react.

 "Shut your mouth, Terry!" the skinny kid yell as he throws a punch at the way larger boy, or at least he tries, because the boy named Terry moves out of the way and Rogers miss him by far.

 "You shouldn't have done that you know!" Terry hisses while he wipes his nose in his sleeve and takes a single step towards Rogers. He hit him square at the jaw. The other kids cheer and holler. 

 Rogers stumbles back into me, almost sending us both to the ground again, but he regains his footing and raises his hands like a boxer... A small skinny boxer that is.

 "Well, you shouldn't be such a stupid punk, Terry!" Rogers hit again, and this time he actually gets a punch in, landing it perfectly in Terry's stomach. But apparently he isn't that strong though, because Terry quickly regains his breath that is knocked out of him and throws 2 quick hits. 

One to Rogers' mouth - splitting his lip, the other to his stomach - sending the poor boy to the ground.

 I quickly move to his side, helping him up in a sitting position and at the same time blocking him from Terry's punches. I carefully press my handkerchief to his lip to try and stop the bleeding. 

 "you've had enough now Rogers?" he asks but the smaller kid just shake his head and push my hand away from his mouth as he stubbornly reply "I can do this all day!" 

 Terry glares daggers at the two of us on the ground and raises his arm again to prepare for another blow. 

 "That's enough!" a voice cuts in making the much bigger boy stiffen right as he was going to swing at me too. 

 "You leave them alone Terry, or I swear to God, I will throw you into the harbor!" the group of kids part and let a much taller boy walk in to stand in between Terry, Rogers and myself. He isn't threatening in any way, but he radiates willpower and it's clear that the rest of the kids respect him a lot.

 Terry looks torn, a part of him wants to run and the other part wants to stay and fight.

"Stay out of this, Barnes! It's none of your business!" he sounds angry, but his body shows hesitation and his hands fall to his sides.

 "It is my business, when you hit on my best friend and a girl way smaller than yourself! Now scram or I will throw your sorry ass in the water!" the taller boy doesn't leave his spot In front of the two of us on the ground, but stands tall and towering like a protecting wall. 

 Finally Terry gives up and turns around to walk away but not before he yells over his shoulder "This isn't over yet! I'll get you, Rogers!"

 The taller boy becomes visibly angry, he takes a huge step toward him and roar "Beat It, you big idiot!" making Terry run of terrified. The rest if the kids quickly follow leaving the three of us together alone.

 "How many times do I have to save your sorry ass, Punk? Sometimes I think you like getting punched" the tall boy kneels and gives the skinny kid a playful smirk.

"I had him on the ropes" Rogers says and take the outstretched hand the tall boy offers him. 

 "I know you did! But I couldn't let your new friend here, see at all the blood that was certain to come" he laughs and Rogers turn to help me to my feet. The smaller kid mutters under his breath but loud enough for the other boy to hear "Jerk!". 

 The tall boy gives me a dazzling smile and his hand to shake "Hi, I'm James, Steve's best friend and sometimes his rescuer. But everybody calls me Bucky, I prefer that" amusement playing in his bright blue eyes.

 I take his hand "Y/N...nice to meet you Bucky" I look at the boy that came to my rescue "And you too, Steve. Thank you for standing up for me, I'm sorry he hit you" I hand him my handkerchief again and he takes it with a grateful shy smile. 

 "Oh, it's nothing! It could be worse" he says and presses the now bloodstained cloth to his lips again. 

"It really could!" Bucky agrees with a chuckle. 

 Steve eyes me up, concern painted in his clear blue eyes. 

"I heard what Terry said y/n, don't you listen to him! He doesn't know what he's talking about. And I'm sure your dad loves you dearly" 

 I look down to the ground, not knowing what to say. Bucky watches us closely and when he senses my awkwardness he clears his throat making us both look up at him. 

 "I don't know about you guys, but I think we should get Ma' to look at the both of you. It looks like you could use some cleaning up and maybe a bandage or two" the tall boy with the cheeky grin starts to walk away backwards so he can still watch us "Are you coming or what?" 

 Steve and I glance at each other with amused grins on our faces before we both run after Bucky to his mother's house together, for the first time out of many. 

 ---

 "Y/N!" the voice in the headphones yanks me out of my trip down memory lane.

I look up to the man in the cockpit of the chopper "We're here!" he says pointing out of the window with a nod of his head.

 I close the folder and put it in my duffle bag, preparing myself for the drop off. I have to make a jump as they won't land the helicopter. That's no problem though, I've done it a million times before, I don't care. 

 I throw the bag over my shoulder and work myself over to the open side of the helicopter, putting one foot on the landing skid and lean out to take a closer look. 

 I take in the view of Manhattan underneath and in front of us, it's kind of beautiful in its own grayish kind of way, while the sun is setting spreading a warm glow over the buildings. 

 In the distance I see the huge Stark Tower. 

Home of the Avengers, home of Captain America, my childhood friend!

Part 3

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