#he's got enough cash to pay rent so why is he living rent free in my brain?? huh??? answer me that!

[aka-trashrat]

🍑

Mereel Skirata at it again (still).

He's admiring an attractive backside in a pub. The peach emoji is a euphamism for 'butt'.

[broodybuck]

Title: The Boy Next Door

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Rating: E

Tags: 18+ explicit smut, childhood friends, neighbors, pining, confessions, friends to lovers, first crush

Summary: Growing up, you always had a crush on the boy next door. Now, twelve years later, you might unexpectedly get your chance with Bucky Barnes.

[ao3 link]

Your parents just handed over the house you grew up in. It was that easy, now it's yours.

They want to be those typical, retired parents and move to Florida — boring! And since you've been renting a studio in Brooklyn for the past four years, you jumped at the chance to have a three-bedroom house in upstate New York. It's already paid off and your parents are wealthy enough, they don't need the earnings for their Florida condo.

You've only been back to your childhood home for holidays in the past few years. Everything has stayed the same, your parents were actually one of the few who didn't turn their daughter's bedroom into a home office or gym. They left the pink wallpaper, the twin bed with the floral comforter, and the tower of stuffed animals on the dresser.

When you arrive with your two suitcases and some extra cash in your pocket since you sold all your studio furniture, you stare up at the house. You smile from the warm memories before you glance over at the house next door.

An older boy named James lived there, but he always went by Bucky. Bucky Barnes is the name that lived in your diary for most of your adolescence. He was four years older than you which meant you had an embarrassing crush on him since you were twelve. He was nice, he always teased you when you saw each other, he even acknowledged your existence for the one year you were both in high school together — you as a freshman and him a senior.

That did wonders for your reputation, you became pretty popular even after he graduated. Still, you would've thrown away all the friends and parties for just one night with Bucky if that was a possibility.

You're not sure you ever got over your crush, more just accepted that it was never going to happen and moved on with your life. It was easy once he went away from college and three years later so did you. You never ran into him again even when you were visiting home for the holidays. It seems the Barnes' residence spent their holidays elsewhere as the house was always dark on those occasions.

Currently, it's two in the afternoon and the sun is beating down so strongly, you start to take off your jean jacket. You're sliding your arms out of the sleeves when a familiar voice makes you jump.

"Hey, y/n."

Your arms flap uncoordinatedly, still half in the jacket, pausing in an awkward position as you turn to see your childhood crush standing a few feet away from you. Bucky Barnes, looking sexier than ever.

"Oh, hi,” you splutter.

This man still has the ability to make you blush like a schoolgirl. You do some quick mental math and realize if you’re 27 now then he must be 31. And why do men age so spectacularly? He has somehow managed to become even more attractive in the last twelve years.

"What're you doing here?" you ask as you finally free your arms from the jacket.

"I'm house-sitting," Bucky explains. "What're you doing here?"

"Um, well, the house is sorta mine now."

"Parents gave you the whole thing?"

"Yep, the whole thing," you nod.

"Wow, congrats on the house," Bucky says.

"Thank you," you reply and you both stare at each other in a beat of silence.

"Um actually, since you're around, do you think I could pay you for some manual labor?" you ask suddenly.

"What kind?" Bucky grins fast. It truly takes your breath away, jesus this man should not be allowed to smile.

"I have a dumpster coming tomorrow morning," you explain. "I'm getting rid of my childhood bedroom furniture."

"Yeah, I can help."

"That would be so great, I'll pay you—"

"Don't sweat it. Just treat me to dinner sometime," Bucky shrugs, and your stomach drops. What in the world does he mean by that... like a dinner date?

"Oh, dinner... yeah, okay. You got it," you play it cool and awkward.

He smiles at you, amused.

"Anyway..." you mumble unsure how to retract yourself from this conversation, unsure if you even want to.

"You really grew up, huh?" Bucky says, and he scans you up and down.

"I guess so," you shrug, your face burning. "You too."

"Yeah, guess we haven't seen each other in..."

He appears to be trying to calculate the years but you unabashedly jump in with an exact answer.

"Twelve years."

"Has it been that long?" he asks.

"I... think so," you feign uncertainty.

"So, what time do you need me tomorrow?" he asks.

"Oh, anytime that works for you."

"How about noon?"

"Perfect."

Asking for Bucky's help might've been the worst idea you ever had. When he comes over, he's wearing a cotton-white t-shirt and jeans. His hair is damp and slicked back from a shower. He looks so comfy, it makes you imagine waking up with him. You yearn to know how warm his skin feels fresh from the steam.

You ignore your inappropriate desires and lead him up the stairs to your old room. It's then you realize how many years of your life you desperately wanted to show him your room. Have your crush see these walls, sit on your bed, and make out with you next to your teddy bear.

It's embarrassing but probably every teenage girl wanted the same thing. Unfortunately, the thought slips out of you with a laugh.

"I always wanted to show you my room."

You freeze in the doorway, realizing what you've just said out loud.

"What?" Bucky asks from behind you.

"When I was younger, I meant. I didn't mean... I don't know why I said that, actually."

You turn around and see the look of amused confusion on his face, a small smirk inching from the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, fuck it. I had a major crush on you," you confess.

Bucky's eyebrows lift high.

"Yeah?"

"You couldn't tell?"

"I thought you were just awkward with everyone," he shrugs.

"Great, so you thought I was a total loser," you sigh.

"No..." he says quickly but takes a second to elaborate. "If it helps, I didn't think about you that way 'cause you were too young for me."

"Of course, you never thought about me," you brush off, trying not to let your younger self die too much inside.

You step into the room to create any amount of space from this conversation. But you instantly remember the countless hours you spent in here thinking about him. Staring out the window at his family's house hoping the catch a glimpse of him.

"Hey," Bucky says. His hand gently touches your shoulder.

You turn around to meet his eyes which oddly look darker, more intense now.

"I could see myself thinking about you now," he admits low.

You blink, your mouth is suddenly too dry to respond.

"I mean... look at you," he says so fondly that your heart could burst. And he looks you over again, his pupils dilating even more.

Is this really happening, you think.

His right hand hasn't moved from your shoulder. Boldly, you place a hand on his left forearm and you're right, his skin is still warm from the shower.

You breathe in sharply because just touching him, just standing this close for this long is something you were never lucky enough to get back then.

His eyes are still locked with yours and it's honestly so intense you can't look away even as you see him dip his head, lowering slowly to your lips. He waits, an inch from them, to see if this is okay. Of course, it's fucking okay.

You surge the last inch forward and kiss him harder than you anticipate. He stumbles a step back, in consequence grabbing onto your waist, and pushing forward. He walks you back toward the twin bed up against the wall.

When you fall back onto the mattress, it creaks from old age, but you couldn't care less. Because Bucky Barnes, your childhood crush, the extremely attractive neighbor next door, is crawling over you. And it's glorious, it's enough to make you arch up into him and moan.

He lets out a breathy laugh and then kisses you, his knee slides between your legs and presses down. You moan even louder. You're completely shameless, you are, but this is Bucky Barnes. You're not staying quiet for a second of this.

His mouth moves to your ear and he's kissing down your neck while his fingers slip under your shirt, rolling it up.

Your shirt is off and then you're pants are coming off too. You want to get him out of his clothes but his mouth finds the front of your panties and he's teasing you, mouthing at the fabric.

"Please," you whine.

He grins against your underwear and then slides the thin fabric off and sucks his thumb into his mouth.

When he touches you, he's not gentle. He goes right in and rubs your clit roughly but you're so turned on that it's like a jolt of electricity to your body, you leap up from the mattress.

He licks two fingers then and sinks them right inside you. Oh god, it's so easy because you're so wet.

"Fuck," he mutters, realizing this. He stares down, watching his fingers work inside you. Your skin boils endlessly.

He doesn't need to spend much time working you open and he must know that because it's not long before he pulls his fingers out and hurriedly works the button of his jeans open. He pulls open the fly and pushes them down when you sit up to get his shirt. You're not letting this happen without seeing that gorgeous chest again.

You remember so many summer nights when you got a glimpse of Bucky shirtless. Running through the sprinkles or coming home from a neighbor's pool. He was stunning, even back then, but now... oh lord, now he's filled out. He has a firm, thick chest and a set of perfect abs lining his torso. Because of course, he has a six-pack, you always fall for the most unattainable guys.

But somehow you have him, right here, in your very old, tiny twin bed.

You want to lick a long strip from his navel up to his neck but he doesn't give you the chance. Once his clothes are off, he pulls your legs over his waist and pushes inside you so fast you barely have time to prepare. You cling to him with your whole body, legs and arms. And you moan low.

"Oh god, you're so tight," he husks.

You tighten your hold around his neck, he looks up at you and kisses you. You're basically on his lap so start rolling your hips slowly, getting used to how big he feels inside you.

You push him back until he lies down. And then you're riding him. You're riding Bucky Barnes in your childhood bedroom on top of your pink comforter with yellow flowers.

This is your teenage dream come true and that realization plows through you, making you ride him even harder, snapping your hips as fast as you can over his cock. And it's enough that you get a moan out of him, a low gravelly groan that you immediately fawn over.

His fingertips dig into your skin as you keep riding him fast and hard. You know you're nearing the edge, your head falls with a whimper, you grip his shoulders tighter.

"Fuck, y/n. Come for me," he breathes.

And you lose all control the moment you hear that. Fuck, you come so hard.

"Oohhh, fuckkk," you wail and stop moving to let the orgasm crash through you.

Then his hands lift your ass, just enough so he can raise his hips and start fucking into you.

"Jesus," you hiss and scramble to hold onto him again.

He keeps fucking you, gaining speed and making your eyes roll back from the fact that your orgasm can't wane with his cock repeatedly slamming right into you.

He groans, squeezing the flesh on your ass now and you can tell he's close.

He curses under his breath and then he's coming and still fucking you so hard your vision's blurring.

When he finally slows down, he blows out a long breath. He releases his grip on your ass and closes his eyes, basking in the aftermath of his orgasm.

You can feel his cock twitch one last time inside you. You carefully try to pull off him. He winces as you do, still sensitive. You lean down and kiss him, you can't help yourself.

He smiles when you break to let him catch his breath. Okay, he's totally allowed to smile when he's naked in your bed, you decide. You admire the sight for as long as he lets you.

"Well, fuck," he laughs.

"Yeah, fuck," you agree, smiling. "Not sure if I should thank you for your help yet."

He laughs. "I haven't done anything yet."

"Oh, you've done plenty," you tease and plant another kiss on his lips.

He smirks at you and runs his hands up your sides, gentle and light.

"I'll help you move the furniture," he says. "Just give me a few minutes."

"Yeah, I need a few too," you say. "At least this bed is going out with a bang."

And you both laugh. Then you look at him and already remember what he said to you yesterday. You remember almost every word he's ever uttered to you.

"So, about that dinner," you say.

He smiles wide and just kisses you.

[bumblebeehug]

What do you think is the contents of Jude's gifts to Lucy? Any headcanons?

i'm a firm believer that he gifted her his only belongings from the Heartfilia-estate, and that the only things he brought were items from when Layla was alive. Jude was harsh, unfair, neglectant etc, but even though he wasn't a good father, i'd like to think he was a really great husband. after all, he was the one who was married into the Heartfilia name, not Layla. so when the company went down, he allowed for the entire estate, everything he owned, to be confiscated - everything but some keepsakings he kept from Layla: i'm thinking diaries, her favourite books, some family heirlooms, and other small but meaningfull trinkets.

(Longgggg analysis of their relationship below the cut)

I also think that Jude always meant to go through these things with Lucy. I think he had a flighty dream to reconcile with her, even if he only came to talk to her after he needed to loan money from her, even after sending Phantom Lord after her so he could marry her off to a wealthy business partner. Because despite all of the terrible things he had done, he wanted her to know all about the amazing mother she had. He wanted to show Lucy the exact shade of pink that was Layla's favourite (i'm bringing Nalu in here though bc coincidentally Layla's favourite shade of pink is the exact shade of Natsu's hair), he wanted to go to the market and point out the flowers she liked the most, he wanted to tell Lucy about all of their anecdotes, because after many years of lonliness, and after some time being unemployed, he had realised that he wanted Layla's image to be strong in Lucy's memories.

Then Jude would hear about the Tenrou accident, and though he wanted to believe that Lucy would pull through, he understood that it was unlikely. His daughter was dead, and he had been the worst father imaginable. His guilt was chewing through his sanity, but this time he decided to do something about it. He knew he might never get the actual chance to repair the relationship between him and Lucy, but the only way for him to keep going, was to repair it despite her not being there. So he, an old business man, created a new business, just so he could fund both his and his dead daughter's life. I don't think he ever made any extreme sums with the new company - he could pay for his own life, the monthly rent of Lucy's flat, and a bi-monthly cleaning of it, in case she came back. The cleaning was mainly for Jude's sake, since that was the way he could keep hope that she would come back, any time he visited.

He never earned enough money to live completely comfortable again - he often ended up grabbing free meals whenever he could, and if the rent at one place got too high, he didn't shy away from living on the streets until something reasonable came up again. He found ways to wash up and keep clean, and he kept his income, but he had it tough economically. he never lived in Lucy's flat either though, and he never even considered selling it.

When Lucy's birthday came around, he started writing letters. They contained all of the information about Layla that he could remember, which ended up being way more than he had anticipated. But he wrote the letters, and now, whenever he wasn't working, he was writing. As he wrote, he noticed that the letters started having matching items - in one he would mention a heirloom that had bothered Layla because of how hideous it was (and then he'd write about the stories of the people who had owned this heirloom and why it was important for the Heartfilia women to have), and another would be about him praising his wife's clothing style, and then there would be a package with some of her dresses in it.

Then the company started pulling its own weight and more, and he started putting away money for Lucy's landlady. First he just wanted to give the lady some cash so she could store the gifts until Lucy came back (he was aware that it was an if, and not when, but this was his way of healing, he argued), but then, as the company grew, he realised that he could pay Lucy's rent beforehand. Before he knew it, he was paying almost double of the cost of Lucy's rent, just so that the landlady could keep the apartment empty.

I don't think Jude ever felt like he had redeemed himself. I'm pretty sure he spent his last years deep in regret, and that he struggled with guilt and depression from both Layla's and Lucy's deaths - after all, he died not knowing that Lucy survived Tenrou. I've never loved Jude either - I think there's a limit to how much you should be allowed to put your child through, and Jude crossed that line not long after Layla died. He made insanely bad choices again and again regarding Lucy, and I don't think Lucy ever needed to forgive him.

But I think she did forgive him. I believe she sometimes finds resentment lingering in her memories that contain him, but that she reminds herself that his life wasn't a pretty one either. I think she's aware of the fact that he struggled on so many planes (mentally, socially) and that she's decided to let his image rest - she'll never go out of her way to defend him if his name is getting thrown around, but she'll never start a conversation just to bash on her late father. I think that she'll let him seem nice when her children hears about him, and she'll let the kids learn the full truth once they're old enough.

And lastly, I think she'll always be thankful of the gifts he gave her, and that she's greatful that he never stopped believeing that she was alive, and that he gave her such wonderful stories about her mother.

[bubblebbunch]

Muse List

❃ LUCA // PINWHEEL

tag | art | hcs | musings | aes | fashion

Demiboy [afab] // he/they // 29 // Drug Dealer & Celebrity Lookalike/Performance Artist

Luca, or "Pinwheel" as most call him, lives in a ratty little apartment in New York City, Queens, and makes most of his money off of selling drugs. During the day though, he'll go to Loo Loo Amusement Park [Remake of Luna Park on Coney Island] where he plays the role of a celebrity performance artist which he is a lookalike of.

He fucking hates the gig, but he looks so similar to him, he has the energy and dexterity to pull it off, and well... the owner blackmailed him, threatening to report him to the authorities for his drug dealing, and Luca needs to Not end up in jail.

So he finds himself doing it despite not getting paid. He's rarely sober, often on some kind of pills, and barely keeps enough cash on him to pay rent. It's honestly a bit of a miracle that he still lives at the apartment complex. He reeks of booze and nicotine and whatever else he's been smoking, and doesn’t have a single friend.

✒ FUMIHIRO

tag | art | hcs | musings | aes | fashion

Cis Male // he/him // 29 yrs // Therapist

Fumihiro works as a therapist in NYC and is not doing... that great money wise. College absolutely ruined him, his family often wants him to help them fund their own projects, and he's terrible at saying no. He takes on more work than he's capable of, and he often works for free. He complains, but he just needs to grow a spine. Life IS pretty ridiculously unfair, though... and it doesn't help that his roommate Corwin is incredibly overbearing and suffocating either.

✚ CORWIN

tag | art | hcs | musings | aes | fashion

Demiboy [amab] // he/they // 28 yrs // Dentist

Corwin is Fumihiro's childhood friend and has always been an outcast. With a morbid interest in teeth, he was also struggling with depression and unhealthy coping behaviour. He's obnoxious, is unabashedly himself, and he's got crazy ADHD... but also RSD. And he's so lonely... he craves intimacy something fierce, and he Clings to Fumihiro as the only person who ever gave him a genuine chance. He occasionally performs in drag, and he gets his fix at the bar several times a week where he hooks up with whoever wants to give him a try, but nothing ever goes anywhere... Why won't anybody just love him already?

დ MINNIE

tag | art | hcs | musings | aes | fashion

Trans Woman // she/her // 26 yrs // Online Personality

Minnie is a weeb and an amazing cosplayer, YouTuber, and she spends a lot of her time online making silly videos for people who simp for her. She doesn't mind, it pays the bills, and her OnlyFans is doing good, thank you guys!! During the day she works as a server at a local cafe that does dress ups at times (the maid outfits are her favourite). Minnie is a sweetheart, but a bit of a doormat... having came out of a physically and emotionally abusive relationship not too long ago, she's still working on loving herself. She's still recovering, doing her very best...

☽ SABRINA

tag | art | hcs | musings | aes | fashion

Genderfluid [amab] // any pronouns // 25 yrs // Babysitter

Younger sister to Luca, who can't stand him. She felt abandoned by her only remaining family member when he was becoming a chore to look after, when his substance abuse and illegal activities only increased and escalated while she was left alone at home, fending for herself... So she ended up moving out. He now works as a babysitter, it's rough and the family takes advantage of their charity, but it's nice to feel... needed. To be a part of a family. She has a lot of spice, but below the sour exterior, he's got a big heart.

♠︎ MORDECAI BARNES

tag | art | hcs | musings | aes | fashion

Cis Male // he/him // 51 yrs // Funeral Director & Mortician & Coffin Maker [hobby]

Mordecai has been pretty rooted in place for the last 51 years... Growing up in Oklahoma, he eventually moved to eastern California where he set up a funeral home and a stable. Death wasn't really fascinating to him... but rather, he had seen it happen many times in his life, and found that the end of a life... had to have meant something, for those left behind. He wanted to lift the spirits of those who remained, and celebrate the life that had burned so bright, and either suddenly been snuffed out, or slowly dimmed down. He wanted to make the funeral peaceful. The passing natural. The communication between the dying, the dead, and the living, easier. So he started his business.

Moving to New York, he did so to keep a family member company during her final years before sickness takes her life, setting up a new business in the city to keep on doing what he was always doing... but city life is quite different from the mountain ranges of Oklahoma or endless deserts of California.

Mordecai doesn't say more than he has to, the quiet sort who notices everything but says nothing. When he does speak up, his southern drawl is almost distracting, but his words always carry wisdom.

$ NOEL CAMPBELL, second name GURUMARRA

tag | art | hcs | musings | aes | fashion

Trans Man // he/him // 36 yrs // Business Tycoon, owner of several clubs across NYC, Manager of Loo Loo Park. Also deals with money laundering, espionage and is a loan shark of course

Noel is an entrepenur and a visionary. Starting off at the bottom of the barrel like so many of us, he figured out how to work the system from a young age, always having a nose for business, and a feeling for when to strike. What opportunities were lucrative and which ones were a waste. Quickly, he went from a simple office rat to team leader, boss, CEO, and now he manages more businesses than you can count on one hand.

His current "project" is the Loo Loo Park (alternate version of Luna Park on Coney Island) in NYC, and while he sits comfortably in Manhattan, he makes bank without much effort anymore. Noel is smug, careful in his wording, and will come across as quite lighthearted if you don't know any better. He's always five steps ahead, but his confidence in his own ability can also become his biggest weakness. Oh yeah also he's Luca's boss/blackmailer.

⚙ Nergüi

tag | art | hcs | musings | aes | fashion

Agender [intersex] // they/them // 21 yrs // College Student

A young student at one of the many colleges across New York, currently studying robotics in hopes of becoming... something. They feel so in tune with these machines, at times it feels like they're also running on a program, that they don't actually know what they're actually Meant to do except for making these things work... like life has no meaning. Are they only doing this because their parents wants them to? Because they think robotics are the future? Because they know better and this is what's best for them? Do they even have a mind of their own..? Or are they exaggerating? Should they just settle... they don't know. Time to dissociate.

¿ Loo Loo Bot

tag | art | hcs | musings | aes | fashion

No gender // it/they // A few years old // Clown Mascot/Spy/Bodyguard Android

An android Noel has placed in "Loo Loo park" to play the role of a pierrot-themed mascot named Loo Loo. It has some other dubious functions as well, such as the ability to switch its face, voice and build around, hide weapons on its person, and of course, record conversations. It is rather uncanny to look at, its voice a bit off and its behaviour a bit too inhuman... at least when it is at the park. When it's working undercover by Noel's side, it is near indistinguishable from a real person.

The android is generally soft spoken and gentle in its mannerisms, supposedly it'd make it approachable, but is just seems to creep kids out.

[anna1306]

What if poly! Lost boys had an s/o who was really good at playing the violin, like one night the boys head to the boardwalk to meet up with their love when they hear a violin being played, seeing a crowd they maneuver through the crowd seeing it's their s/o playing the violin. When asked about it they tell the boys that they play the violin on the boardwalk during the day for extra cash and gigs

Poly!Lost Boys x Violin player!Reader

Paul jumped from his bike first. He always had the most energy out of all of them, so it was no surprise. Marko followed, as Dwayne and David calmly stopped. Another night, another trip to the Boardwalk.

Paul was excited for different reason. They hadn't seen their dear Y/N for couple of days, but they promised they would come to the Boardwalk today. They were busy with this mundane life things, like studying and... Working? Or they tried to find job? The boys didn't care for either things, so they didn't remember these things. They wanted to turn them, but waited for the right moment, as the boys didn't want to scare them away with this.

- Where are they? - Paul looked around.

- Yeah, they said they would be here since day, - Marko added, noticing not very big crowd near them. David furrowed his brows, but heard... Violin? Not very usual instrument for the Boardwalk with screaming rock usually.

- They maybe go there, - he suggested, nodding in the direction of a secret musician, hidden behind the people. Paul moved there, followed by his friends. The music was vivid, even if it was classical, and the guys loved it. They were intrigued, so they slowly pushed through the people. Noticing them, some of humans already came to the side, so it was easy enough.

"No freaking way!" - they caught the thought of Marko, who got to the front first. They got to him and... Saw them. Their Y/N really was here, at the Boardwalk. Playing violin. Dwayne smiled at this, though he couldn't quite catch the song. It was something familiar to him, but he couldn't quite grasp it. David caught his thoughts about it and smirked. He didn't try to guess it, he just listened to it and watched how you seemed to be more free. You closed and opened your eyes, following your own emotions. You felt at bay, at peace, and that was more important to him, than some name of the song. Plus, why try and guess, when you told them everything, he could just ask. Paul stood there in awe, while Marko excitedly smiled.

They didn't interrupt you, even when the composition ended and you started playing another one. They waited patiently for when you ended finally and said goodbye to the audience. You bent to the case from the violin, gathering money people threw there, when you noticed them. You smiled, looking at your boyfriends from down there.

- What, nice look? - you snickered, taking away the money. David scoffed, giving you a hand to help you get up.

- Excellent, I would say, - he answered, watching how you carefully put away the violin in the case.

- This was awesome, sugarpie! - Marko jumped near you. He honestly waited, while you put away the instrument, only then hugging you. - Why didn't you tell us?

- You didn't ask? - you rolled your eyes. - It's not big deal, it's not like I am killing someone for living like certain someone, - you looked meaningfully at the boys. Dwayne smirked, kissing you on the cheek.

- We just surprised, princex. Why do you play here? - you shrugged, putting the case behind your back. Marko moved away a little bit, letting you do that.

- For fun. You know it's not very interesting to play at home where no one can hear. Plus, people give money, so I can buy milkshake, when Paul is pouting.

- Hey, I always give you gifts, babe! - Paul protected himself, throwing a hand on your shoilders.

- Yes, but you don't pay my rent, - you laughed at him, walking with them down the Boardwalk.

- You know we don't take rent, right? - nonchalantly asked David, almost as if he didn't care. He took out the cigarette from the pack. - And we are the best neighbours you can have here.

- You are! I always dreamt about four guys who have very... Interesting diet, night lifestyle and suck my blood any given moment, - you smirked.

- I did that only couple of times, - Marko groaned. - Are you gonna remind me of it any given moment?

- Yes, you are still restricted from my neck, - you pointed at him with your finger sternly and he snapped his teeth at it, as you squealed, staggered to the side.

- Careful, - Dwayne caught you, taking away from pouting Paul. - But we are serious. You can live with us, if rent or everything is too much, you know that, right?

- And we will absolutely love your music, - David promised, stopping at some railings. Dwayne stopped near him, while Marko and Paul bickered with each other, going further without you.

- You... I don't know, - you shrugged. - And I know you would want me to turn right away, I am not ready for that, - you looked at David doubtfully. He looked at something on the beach and smiled a little.

- Don't overthink it, kitten. We love your music. And we are patient. Most importantly, we love you, - he looked at you. - We would love to hear you every day with us, - you smiled, leaning on the railings near him.

- And I can help with gathering money on the Boardwalk, - Marko appeared near you with a cup with some milkshake. You smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek.

- I'll think about it. Maybe a welcome concert for you, - Paul howled happily at that, while you looked at David. Maybe you should have told them earlier about music.

When you played the violin and looked at Paul, Marko and even Dwayne dancing around you in the cave later that night, there is no doubt. You should have told them earlier.

The Lost Boys Taglist: @minafromasgard @starmullet

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Inequality, not gerontocracy

The received wisdom among economists is that the US’s historical low interests rates are driven by high savings by aging boomers who are getting ready for, or in, retirement.

The idea is boomers have salted away so much cash that banks don’t bid for their savings, so interest rates fall.

But at last week’s Jackson Hole conference, a trio of economists presented a very different explanation for low interest, one that better fits the facts.

In their NBER paper “What explains the decline in r∗? Rising income inequality versus demographic shifts,” Atif Mian (Princeton), Ludwig Straub (Harvard), and Amir Sufi (Chicago) show how inequality, not demographics, is to blame for low rates.

https://www.kansascityfed.org/documents/8337/JH_paper_Sufi_3.pdf

The problem with the “boomers have so much in retirement savings that interest rates are low” theory is that boomers are incredibly unprepared for retirement. There’s a small cohort — ~10% — of very well-off boomers sailing into their sunset years. The rest? Fucked.

It’s true that boomers put in most of their working days before wage stagnation kicked in, that they paid hilariously low university tuition, and enjoyed low housing costs and substantial down-payment assistance from their New Deal-subsidized parents.

But! They also were the earliest cohort of workers that were forced to rely on gambling in the stock market for their pension, and their savings were eroded by multiple crashes that revealed them for the suckers at the poker table.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/30/meme-stocks/#stockstonks

Their homes have hugely inflated values, but they’re being liquidated to pay for eldercare, medical debt, and their kids’ and grandkids’ usurious student loans and otherwise unattainable down-payments.

https://gen.medium.com/the-rents-too-damned-high-520f958d5ec5

So we can’t really say that low interest rates are being caused by an aging population with high retirement savings, because while the US population is aging, it does not have high savings. Quite the contrary.

And, as Robert Armstrong points out in his analysis of the paper for the Financial Times, even in places like Japan, with large cohorts of retirees and near-retirees who do have adequate savings, rates are scraping bottom.

https://www.ft.com/content/256acf1b-5bbb-475b-9df3-6d0b3a59389a

So why are rates so low? Well, the paper says it is being caused by high levels of savings — just not aging boomers’ savings. Rather, it’s the savings of the ultra-wealthy, the 1%, who are sitting on mountains of unproductive capital, chasing returns.

Making the rich richer is terrible economic policy. Wealthy people simply can’t spend all their money — I mean, once Jeff Bezos has bought a superyacht for his superyacht and flown to space, he’s still got hundreds of billions in the bank.

https://www.cnn.com/2021/05/10/business/jeff-bezos-yacht/index.html

An Amazon warehouse worker’s paycheck immediately enters the economy — it’s spent on groceries, and if the grocer is a local smallholder (and not Whole Foods), that dollar is spent again, on school supplies. The local stationer spends it at the local mechanic, and so on.

Once a dollar disappears into Bezos’s bank account, it is frozen in amber. No matter how many Subzero fridges Bezos fills with vintage Veuve, he’ll barely dent his fortune.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/17/disgracenote/#false-consciousness

Those dollars that pile up in the accounts of the wealthy are like oily rags piling up in the economy’s garage. They can’t be used for consumption, so they’re pumped into assets, causing massive spikes in things like housing, raising the cost of living for everyone else.

But there aren’t enough assets around to gamble on — not even after new, idiotic asset-classes like NFTs and freeport shipping-containers full of fine art hit the market — and so the savings pile up, depressing interest rates.

These low interest rates fuel more borrowing by the super-rich, who can take out loans at- or near-prime, making the money effectively free. These borrowed billions are pumped into asset markets, further inflating them.

Once the oily rags start burning, the flames blow out the economy’s garage door, and more oxygen (cheap money) floods in and causes the blaze to burn higher and hotter.

Just like a fire can create its own weather system of lightning storms that start more fires, the oily rags the super-rich have filled our collective garage with also set off secondary crises.

That was made clear by Propublica’s Secret IRS Files: low rates let the 1% evade nearly all taxation, by allowing them to borrow against assets (tax free) rather than liquidating them (taxed at 20%). So the rich get richer, and the rags pile higher.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/15/guillotines-and-taxes/#carried-interest

Boomers may be richer than Gen X and Millennials on average, but only because the top 10% are skew the average. The reality is that we are not in the grips of a battle for generational supremacy — rather, we’re fighting a class war.

The rich — old, young and middle-aged — set the world on fire. High savings cause low interest rates, to be sure, but the savings — like all forms of wealth — are in the hands of the rich, not the old.

[infinitegalahad]

Hi! Request with prompt “i’m not jealous!” “you’re clearly jealous.” With nixon please? I love jealous nix! Lol 💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙 You’re the best!!!

WASHING MACHINE HEART

Prompts: "I'm not jealous!" and "You're clearly jealous"

Gif Credit: @andrewhaldane

Summary: Nothing ever lasts forever, everybody wants to rule the world. You are pretty much the only person who could change the way Lewis operates, and that's exactly what you do-change him.

Word-Count: 4.8k

WARNINGS!!!: semi-not healthy relationship, alcohol abuse, investment to lovers, sugar daddy/baby, semi-age gap (21-28?), a

Notes: Life lesson learned. Never listen to Mitski or Lana Del Rey when having thoughts about Lewis Nixon being your sugar daddy? Why you may ask? Because it will destroy you. This request was so fun to do, thank you op! I haven't written for Nixon before, so I apologize if he's a little too OOC. Also warning, this is defiantly not the most healthiest relationship, and I realize that. But they try to make it work. Also while writing this, I listened to @web-gott's lewis Nixon playlist and all of her playlists r GREAT BUT THAT DESTROYED ME. great job ily. anyways enough rambles! enjoy!

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @now-im-a-belieber @50svibes @ricksmorty @pennyllanne @ask-you-what-sir @web-gott

Masterlist | Send In A Prompt!

“You want me to be you’re what?”

Nearly spitting out drinks, Vat 69 mixed with vodka (A Nixon classic). It was quite a bizarre offer. Maybe Lewis had drunk too much, which was a common habit. But you made eye contact with him and he had a shit eating grin on your face. You let out an awkward laugh, and he followed suit.

You had been Lewis’s assistant operations officer since Caretan, there with him through a demotion, a divorice, and all of the other wonderful things that happened in his life. Not only was he your boss, but someone you confided in. He would confine in you, you would confide in him with stolen alcohol-it was a perfect example of mutualism. It’s as if you were his therapist at first, then a friend, and then a friend with benefits. Everything was kept under wraps, of course, for both of you to honor your diginites. Besides, you wouldn't wanna tarnish Lewis’s relationship with your father-considering that he was his boss, a Major general for the 101rst Airborne Division.

“A confidante. Companion. Confrère.” Nixon explained as he poured more vodka into your empty cup, which was not a good sign, “Miss Nixon won’t leave her baby boy alone. If I show her I have someone on my arm, she’ll shut up.”

“So let me get this straight. I go back home with you to New York, attend a party with you, be your arm candy, and you pay me?” You summarized his point, swimming the drink in your hands.

“Money, gifts, whatever you want, I can give you,” Lewis promised. He leaned against the railing as you looked at him. Your elbows grazed against each other. Resting your chin on your palm, you went deep into this arrangement.

The war had ended in The Pacific, so you could finally go home. As much as you were excited to leave and finally get back home, you’d miss Nixon. Sure, you’d be in Bronxville and he’d be Manhattan, only a train ride apart. Yes, he was a total asshole, but he was your asshole. The two of you had been together through thick and thin. Your parents would never approve of an alcoholic divorcee, but there was something inside of him that made you fill up with nervous excitement.

You could hear your mother’s voice, scolding you about the type of man Lewis was. Maybe he was a little too old, a little too broken, and a little too much for you, but that’s what attracted you to him. Over time, you learned that you and Nixon had much more in common. Both of you wanted to get away from your families. Hell, Nixon was paying for your college tuition at Sarah Lawenrece and when he had a weekend pass into Paris, you would come. For “work purposes”, but in all honesty it was for fine dining in Paris, shopping for the finest things in Champs-Élysées with Nixon, arm in arm wrapped under your finley manicured finger, and learning more about Miss Nixon’s best boy.

It was hard to let go of that. Everything he had done for you, and yet you were just friends with benefits. Still, after all you have gone through. It frustrated you. But after his divorce, you wanted to support him. He had lost everything, and without Dick, he was probably more lonely and hurt than ever. You wanted to be his comfort besides Vat 69. This arrangement could be an opportunity for the both of you. Maybe it would be more than an arrangement, but something bigger than that.

Lewis nudged your elbow as he raised a thick eyebrow, “Well, whatta’ say?”

“I say, why the hell not?” You accepted the offer, and the two of you clinked your drinks together. “So would we call this an arrangement? Be the pretty thing on your shoulder and you give me pretty things? Just like in Paris?”

“Just like Paris.” He reassured you, patting your shoulder. Sitting on a bench, he patted the spot next to you with his arm stretched out. “Sit with me?”

“Why I’d be honored too, good sir!” You dramatically stated for a comedic effect, which earned a smile from Lewis as you sat down right next to him. Moving close, both of your thighs caressed with each other. He adjusted and moved his free arm around you, bringing you close to him. You responded by laying your head on his chest, along with one of your hands.

Lewis didn’t say much besides drinking more from his cup, which kept getting refilled and gouged in seconds. There was a cold silence that filled the air. You kept adjusting in his hold, craving for that attention that wasn’t crude jokes or touch, but it always flew over his head. As he got lost in what the hell he was going to when he was home and the alcohol that poured in his system, you laid on his chest, waiting for that kiss, even though you knew that it wasn’t happening.

You closed your eyes as you laid there, pretending that Lewis was more than an arrangement for you.

The thing was, Lewis wasn’t dumb. He knew that too, but he didn’t know how to put it in words, so he used what he knew who to use best-money and gifts. Just as you always did.

~

A month after you had set up the arrangement, the two of you returned home. He went back to Manhattan, you went to Boxnville to attend Sarah Lawernce. Two months later, the week before you’re to head off to see your family in Florida, Nixon finally chooses to call you. After he ignores all your calls, letters, everything-he finally chooses to be a man. It doesn’t even feel like a relationship, which is what you wanted it to be. All of the effort you have made has gone to waste. Lewis looks as if he wants to keep it in an arrangement.

Normally, you’d appreciate the cash and all the lavish gifts, but money didn’t buy happiness.

His offer was simple. The Nixons were throwing a party at the Tribeca Rooftop, and it was bound to be full of every socialite in the Tristate area. Lewis asked for you to accompany him for the weekend. Separate rooms if you wanted, all of the dinners paid for by him, in exchange he gets arm candy and you get all the money you need. You considered using it to pay for rent, but after all-Lew was paying for everything, despite there being ignored communication.

It was hard to pass, and you were frustrated. But despite it all, you took up the offer. It was better than being stuck with your parents.

Once you accepted the offer, Lewis drove his Buggati down to Bronxville to pick you. You lived in a cramped apartment with a bunch of other Journalism majors. Seeing him outside of the window, you opened your window and waved.

“Look at what the devil dragged in.” You spat with a smile.

Lewis looked up at you, wearing those damn aviators he got in Austria. They had also been the ones that you had picked up for him, so it must have been sentimental.

“There you are,” He said, leaning against his car, “You coming?”

“Give me a minute!” You called and closed your window. Grabbing your keys and bag, you walked out of your room and towards the exit, only to see all of the girls who lived in your apartment ushered, admiring whatever the hell Nixon was to you. A friend, a sugar daddy, you truly had no idea.

One of the girls turned her head back to you, smirking as he leaned against the doorframe, “So, you’re the lucky one?”

You looked at her, slipping your boots on and tying them, “For?”

“A weekend in the city with a man who’s got money. Fancy dinners, fancy things, almost anybody would want it,” She explained, a tint of jealousy in her voice, “Just don’t come back pregnant.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” You confirmed. Once you finished getting your coat on, you waved goodbye to your flatmates, who all begged for you to bring nice things back to you, and even a man for them. The thought you made it chuckle, since they were truly all naive to what it was really like to be treated as an investment.

Walking down the stairs, you were greeted by Lewis, slouched on the front of the car and upon seeing you, straightened up. He began to walk towards you, and so do you. For once, he had cleaned himself up and looked like he was taking care of himself. It took you by surprise when he pulled you into a one armed hug, wrapping around your neck. You met with his chest, taking in his expensive cologne.

“Hey,” He mumbled into your shoulder as he held you close. Maybe for warmth, you thought. “I missed you.”

The cold layer you had felt upon seeing Lewis again had suddenly melted away. Normally, he wasn’t so sentimental. He was sarcastic and witty, but this time-he was different. Kinder, softer, just a little sadder. You put a hand up his armpit, also holding him close.

“Guess I did too,” You responded back. Breaking from the hug, the two of you looked at each other. You chuckled to yourself, not really knowing how to fill the silence.

“I’m glad you took up the offer, by the way.” Nixon added on. It made you look up and shrug your shoulders.

“It’s not like I wanna see my family.” Your shoes moved around on the icy ground, swishing the ice to the side. You were happy to see him, but there was just something about Lewis that was always sad. The same could be said about you, but he looked exhausted. Drained, emotionally and physically.

“Yeah, me either. But you make it tolerable,” Lewis said as he took your bag out of your hands, putting it on the back seat. The two of you got into his car. Before he started the car, Lewis threw a velvet case at you. You were taken by surprise and looked at him.

“Open it,” Lewis nudged his head.

Puzzled, you carefully opened the case and smiled. It was the Willsonite sunglasses, the tinted tortoise shell ones you had seen in Austria when roaming the streets with Lewis.

“It’s what all the girls in the city wear,” Lewis explained. He had picked out his gift with precision and care. Normally, all the girls would buy sunglasses for cheap at a stand at the beach, but hell-you were with the Lewis Nixon after all.

You put on the sunglasses and turned to Lewis, the glasses gently sliding down the bridge of your nose. “Is this your apology for neglecting me?”

Lewis leaned back, looking regretful. “I sent money, I sent the Mademoiselle perfume every month, I’m taking care of you-”

“That’s not what I want. I don’t-” You let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of your nose. It was easy to get angry, but you contained yourself, trying to hide your anger. “I love the gifts, but I want one thing. You. I want to actually spend time with you.” You bit your lip, and the only reason you were going to say it was to keep Lewis, “I’m supposed to be your arm candy, aren’t I?”

“You’re more than arm-candy to me, y/n. I enjoy your company. You’re a great kid.” Lewis began to explain his case. His sunglasses fell down his face, revealing the eyebags, “I didn’t want you to know that I went to rehab.”

“What do you mean? That’s all I wanted for you.”

“I know-it’s just. It wasn’t pretty, and you’ve got a lot going through you. I didn’t wanna drag you down with me.”

Guilt tugged at your head. The last thing you wanted to do was make Lew feel guilty. The only way the arrangement was going to work is if Lewis got the help he needed. He repressed his problems, and you were stubborn and weren’t going down with a fight.

“Lew,” You cooed as you put your hand on his. He looked at you as you inhaled and exhaled, “I don’t give a shit about whether it was pretty or not. I’m just glad you’re getting help. Take the worry off of my back. I care, y’know.”

Lewis put his hand on top of yours and his dark eyes connected with yours. He looked deep into your soul as you sat there, a smile on your face. It was your motto to just sit and act pretty. It was backwards, but If it was for Lewis, then it had to work.

“You make everyday worth living.”

You were unable to respond, frozen. The ice barrier that you surround yourself with had melted away. The one thing in your mind was a kiss. It seemed appropriate. As you began to slowly lean forward, not to scare him away, Lewis removed his hands and put them on the wheel as he began to back out of the parking lot. You sat there, your hands once we’re Lewis rested.

“Let’s have a good weekend, okay?” Lewis says, and you clench your hands together. Putting on a smile, you put on the facade of the arm candy. It’s all a part of the game.

“I’d like that a lot,” You commented and moved towards the window. Putting your sunglasses back on, it earned a smile from Lewis as he drove the car. Now both you matched.

“I like those on a lot,” He complemented, “They bring out the shape in your face.”

You moved them down, winking at him. “My oh my. Someone’s coquettish today.”

The two of you chuckled as you drove down the road. As you merged onto the highway and saw the traffic, you made a polite request.

“Can we go down the west side highway instead of the FDR please? It gets down to Tribeca faster.”

“Sure,” Lewis said, his hand resting on the wheel. “Anything for little miss/mister y/n.”

You leaned against the window and smiled to yourself. You should’ve been happy, you had everything you ever wanted.

But the one thing-Lewis’s love.

~

Lewis’s apartment in Tribeca was wonderful, located on the top floor of the most expensive building in the city with glorious paintings, velvet chair, and a built-in fireplace and bar. For such a large place, it was empty, all besides his Daschuand puppy named Pepper. He got the dog since he felt lonely, but made your heart twitch. He let you choose whatever room you wanted, despite the look in his eyes. So, you choose to sleep with him in the master bedroom.

That night, you expected Lewis would want to have sex, but he wasn’t in the mood. Normally, that’s what it was. Fucking and money. But Lewis had changed. He just felt you close in bed, and the two of you walked about mundane things. Pepper, of course, slept in the bed since she was Nixon’s little girl. You fell asleep in his arms, and enjoyed the change of the pace.

The next morning, Lewis took you down to a restaurant on the water. When ordering drinks, he asked for a bloody mary-virgin. You ordered a mimosa-virgin as well.

“You realize that’s just orange juice, right?” Lewis commented as you leaned over the table.

“And you’re drinking raw tomato juice,” You snarked back, which made Lewis smirk. You saw the change in him from yesterday and today. So, you decided to question further. “So, did you quit?”

“Trying. Whenever I think of doing it, I think of you, throwing out every single bottle in my cabinet and threatening to leave me. And I don’t want that, so go figure.”

Under the table, Lewis’s legs crossed and held the ankle of your foot. You felt your cheeks grow pink, grasping onto the napkin on your nap.

“Why me by the way? Think about it. You’re a hermit socialite, I’m a college student. Those two don’t click well together,” You itched the back of your neck.

Lewis looked at you, his leg itching up your ankle. He thought you were joking as he furrowed his thick eyebrows. He stopped, straightening his posture. “Well you, my dear, are someone that isn’t easy to forget. I like making you happy. Also, who else would be paying your rent and tuition?”

“Myself.”

“Waste of money.” Lewis threw his hand up to shrug off the matter, “Where’s the fun in that?”

The waiter came over and put your drinks down. Lewis gave the waiter a thank you as you laughed to yourself. He was really good at playing his role.

“Y’know, you’re good at this stuff. The whole sugar daddy thing,” You let out a snort, taking a sip at your drink.

“I like making others happy. That’s what money does. Not for yourself, but others. When I take you shopping and I see your eyes light up, that’s what makes me happy,” Lewis acknowledged. The two of you looked at eachother. Not in that joking way, but it was romantic. Sweet. He loved to see you happy, and you loved to see him sober. It worked.

“Also, wherever you wanna go today, I’ll take you. But I do have one rule.”

“And what is it?”

“We stop at Lord and Taylors. I have another surprise in store.”

~

The surprise in store turned out to be an outfit for the Nixon’s party. It was nothing too flashy, but regal enough to make you feel like you were out of a fairytale. His goal was to make you the belle of the ball, and he never failed to under the assignment.

Nixon's party was what you expected it to be. Awkwardly meeting Lewis’s parents and his mother giving you a death glare, seeing the dark haired solicates drink, a jazz band, and the best part of the party-Blanche. She was the only one besides Nixon without a stick up her ass. Most of the party you and Nixon were arm in arm. You would occasionally lean against him, yearnin for his attention, but he’d be too busy with the supply of Vat 69.

You had that feeling in your gut, and it wasn’t a good one. It made you sick, anxious, nervous-all around horrible. The more he drank, the more the pit in your stomach would drop. So you went outside onto the patio to catch some fresh air, to be alone and stroll around. Hell, you were even wearing Nixon’s jacket and clutching to it like a child to it’s comfort blanket.

Strolling across the patio and watching the skyline, your moments of peace were interrupted by the distant yellings coming from a room with an open door. You walked down the line, realizing that the voice was Nixon’s.

“An escort at this party? Lewis, you usually disappoint me, but this is unacceptable!” An older gentleman cried, setting down his scotch.

“Do you see the way they were dressed! What a vixen…” A woman cried, who you presumed to be Miss Nixon herself.

“There is nothing like that. They chose to come-”

“Stop lying to yourself. Someone of that age and you, someone with money, is a recipe for disaster. How much do you pay them to accompany you?”

The words kept breaking your heart. You leaned against the window, as fishguard as you were, listening to every single world.

Under pressure, Lewis threw his hands up, “Fine. You know what? You’re right. I pay for what y/n wants. To make them happy and for them to accompany me. They are nothing more than an investment to me.”

Those words cut like ice, like a bullet to the heart. A hand wrapped around your mouth as he pushed away and began to walk away, unable to listen to another word. An investment! How pathetic you felt to think that after all this time, everything you had been through together, everything he had brought you was all for nothing. Just like you had been told, Nixon was using you for your youth or as a way to cope with his many divorces.

Naturally, you would have felt like running out of the place and getting on the next train to Bronoxville, never seeing Nixon again. But there was anger in your heart that burned brighter than any fire you had seen. The ice surrounded your heart once more. It was a party, after all. And you didn’t want to leave without leaving a mark. After all, you 're a vixen.

Long story short, you stormed back into the party and met another young soilciate. Typical asshole with too much money and his way paid into an Ivy League. You didn’t even catch his name as the two of you conversed, and he kept the alcohol pouring. The two of you sat on a couch, and he eventually cozied up to you, wrapping an arm to pull you close. Just as he was on the topic of bringing you to Montauk to the summer, Nixon, of course, had come by.

“Hey, smartass. What the hell are you doing?” Nixon spat, the alcohol evident in his voice.

Smartass was now his name, and you couldn’t even remember it. Smartness looked up at Nixon, shrugging, “Talking to this pretty little thing. Why don’t you go back to drinking and ruining your family name?”

That comment was enough to make Nixon throw a punch, once again bring shame to his family, and get the two of you kicked out of the party. Lewis tried to talk to you, but you ignored every word he said until you reached the apartment.

“What is your problem?” Nixon asked, closing the apartment door. You threw off his jacket, throwing it onto the ledge of the loveseat.

You let out a snort at his unbelievable behavior. He acted as if he did nothing wrong.

“Are you serious? What is your problem!” You hissed back, “You can’t control yourself in drinking, let alone with me hanging out with other men. Face it, you’re just some spoiled , jealous, alcoholic.”

Lewis ignored all of those other comments and chose to focus on the most petty of them. “I’m not jealous!”

“Ha! You clearly are!” You quickly quipped back, walking towards him as he pointed your finger at his chest. “Look at you! Getting all angry, throwing punches. Just for a little investment! After all, I’m just what you use when you need a distraction from all of your other life problems. Just like all of your failed marriages.”

Your eyes began to feel watery and you spun around, biting your lip as he attempted to hold it together. This hurts more than you wanted it to, and no matter what you did, the waterworks wouldn’t stop.

Despite being drunk, Lewis could sense what he did was wrong, and he fucked up-bad. He was drunk, frustrated, and had no control of what he was doing.

“Y/n, I didn’t mean that.”

“Like I mean anything to you,” You sniffled, wrapping your arms around yourself, “The only reason I came was because I wanted...something more than an arrangement. I, fuck-love you, damnit.”

There was a silence in the room, and you felt cold. Goosebumps trailed all over your body as you bit your lip to contain your sobs. Suddenly, a pair of arms held your shoulders and turned around. Knowing it was Nixon, you wanted to punch him, but your head fell into his chest as you let out a long sigh.

He rested his head in your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you close to his warm body.

““I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that but yeah, I love you too.” Nixon said into your hair, drawing circles into your back. “How mad would you be if I kissed you?”

“Absouetly fucking furious.” You tilted your head up as Nixon grabbed your chin, and your lips collided. It was a beautiful and messy lip with lounges smearing against each other. The messier it got, the more passionate it was. Eventually, the kiss calmed into a fiery disaster into a slow moving dance. Through the kisses, you let out a moan, which made Nixon’s hand go lower down your back. You separated from the kiss to catch some air.

“Why’d you stop, my dear?”

You playfully slapped his chest, “You’re lucky you’re hot. Can we go to bed, please?”

The older man swooped you and carried you to bed, treating you like the royalty you were. Once you were placed in bed with Penny by your side, Lewis crawled in next to you, holding you close.

“That’s why I asked you to come, y’know. I wanted to tell you, but I thought you’d say no.”

“For someone so smart, you don’t pick up on cues. Lewis Nixon, I love you, but you’re an idiot sometimes.”

“I’m your idiot, dollface.” Nixon smiled, leaning his forehead against yours. You felt his body weight onto you as you patted his shoulder, giggling.

“Have you ever thought about how much worse our lives would be without each other?”

Lewis pressed little kisses into your hair before stopping his kissing parade to stare at you. He moved the bangs from your face, letting his hand rest on your skin. “The world could be on fire and I'd still be happy as long as I'm with you.”

Once again, Lewis brought you close and the two of you made passionate love. It wasn’t out of frustration or anger or a distraction, but it was raw, genuine, and emotional. It was all you ever asked.

~

A patterned knock on the door prompted you to stop unpacking the books from your book and to call, “Come in!”

Turning around, you saw Lewis walk in, along with Penny, who was scrambling in on her tiny feet.

“Well look at what the cat dragged in.” You smirked, and Lewis threw his arms up. He held a photo in his hand. You returned to putting the last of your textbooks on your desk, gently patting them down.

“How’s the unpacking going?” Lewis asked as he picked up Penny, who was squirming to attack your face with kisses. You walked over and gave both Penny and Lewis a quick peck. You admired your brand new Burkburnett Desk with Hutch. Photos, memorabilia from Europe, books, and pencils decorated your desk for school.

“Good. Turns out, living in a penthouse is a thousand times better than being a dormitory.” You said, leaning your shoulder against Lew’s as you played with Penny’s floppy ears. After some decision, Lewis had made your relationship official, but to both of your parents distaste. Your parents thought Lewis was a creep, his parents thought you were vixens. As Lewis said, the thanksgiving we're going to be interesting. So Lewis decided that you should move in with him, which you didn’t reject. Tribeca wasn’t that far from Bronoxville.

“Good girl/boy. I’m glad you already like it here.” Lewis cooed into your ear, placing a tender peck. “I got an addition for your desk.”

Lewis pulled the photo and showed you. A smile appeared on your face as you took the beautiful frame. It was a black and white photo of you and Lewis, having dinner on top of the Refinery Rooftop. Both of you had your hands together on the table, smiling as the sun set in the sky. Despite there being no colors, it was a breathtaking photo.

“I know just where to put this.” You breathed, walking towards your deck. Right next to your light and glasses was where the photo went. Next to it, a photo of Lew holding a two week old Pepper, a gift from Blanche. More like Blackmail according to Nixon, but you didn’t care. “There. Perfect. Now I’m all moved in.”

Lew snuck up behind you, snaking his hands around your waist as he rested his head on your shoulder. You leaned back with a subtle smile, putting one of your hands on his own.

“Since you’re here to stay, I was thinking of dining in tonight. Blanche’s coming over too.”

“She is?” You hummed.

“Yup. I Want to see the new place, since you came in and cleaned it up.” Lewis mumbled, “How does that sound?”

“That sounds great. Just peachy, Lew.”

You and Lewis fell in love during the war. You were there for eachother in your worst moments and pulled each other up when you both needed it most. But nothing is ever easy in life. You fight. It’s rough. You fight, breakup, kiss, and makeup. With Lewis’s recovery and your family disowning you, the path down the road won’t be easy. You know that you and Lew will face thousands of hardships, but it’s ok. You have each other, and it’s not perfect at all. But it works, and that’s all that matters.

[127-mile]

Bots and books.

Pairing: Artificial intelligence Ten x female reader.

Genre: AI, bookstore | Fluff, angst.

Warnings: Ten thinks robots are superior to humans.

Plot: When your boss asked you to train the new employee, you didn’t think you would end up with a robot freshly out of the factory.

Word count: +5.3k.

A/N: This is part of the AI project #14320 collab hosted by @pastelsicheng​​​.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

When you hear Taeil's voice behind you, you drop the book you were holding, and when it crashes on your foot, you pursed your lips so as not to be vulgar when so many customers are in the store. "Oh boy, I'm sorry, I should have warned you that I was here." Taeil whispers, and when you look over your shoulder, you notice that he doesn't look embarrassed by the situation, or ashamed, on the contrary, he looks amused.

"I feel like you are trying to hurt me, am I wrong?" you ask, squinting, and he shrugs. At least he bends down to pick up the book and put it where it was supposed to go. "Maybe I'm just trying to get you to go home because you're spending too much time here, maybe I didn't do it on purpose, who knows." If he wasn't your boss, you would have insulted him, but you care about your job, and you like being able to pay your rent every month without having to ask your parents for help.

“I don't spend too much time here, I even think that I don't spend enough time here. But getting back to what caused you to come bother me, yes we can talk. What do you want?" you turn completely towards him, and you tilt your head to the side. "We're going to have a new employee tomorrow, and I was wondering if you could take care of him, show him how the bookstore works, show him how to use the cash register, you know, everything that I taught you when I hired you."

"Aren't you supposed to take care of it, as the boss?" you ask, and he takes his hands out of the pockets of his pants when a client approaches, he smiles at her, and when she disappears, he regains his slumped position. "Are you listening when I'm talking to you?" you know it's a rhetorical question and yet you shake your head, you're not going to lie, you tend to stop listening when he talks for too long. Can he blame you? He has a soft voice that lulls you to sleep.

"I vividly remember telling you last week that I had to go away for a few days. I have an appointment in another city for my next book." oh yes, you remember hearing him mention a new book, an appointment with his publisher, and other people who might help him, but you don't remember hearing him mention the date, or how long he would be gone. "Am I going to have to spend weeks putting books away with your head on the cover? I better get a raise for that!"

"Why would you get a raise, you should be happy to see my face on books!" you could tell him that yes, it's an honor to work with a famous writer, but you don't want to give him that pleasure. "So if I have to take care of the new employee, does that mean that I will also be the boss until you come back from your vacation?"

"It's not a vacation," he mumbles, and you smirk, it's so easy to annoy Taeil, and that's why you like him so much. "but yes, you will be in charge of the store until I return. So are you okay with that?" you know you don't have a choice, that you are the only person working here that he trusts enough to entrust his shop, his baby. "Of course I agree! I won't miss an opportunity to turn a new employee against you."

"Maybe I'll take this opportunity away from the store to find a new employee, to replace you. I've had enough of you!" you're very happy that customers are around, otherwise he certainly would have shouted to sound more dramatic. "You can't fire me, because I'll ruin your business, and you love me way too much, you'll be bored without me. Do I also need to remind you that you wouldn't have a manuscript for your editor to read if I hadn't been there to force you to write?"

Rather than respond, Taeil walks away muttering something between clenched teeth, and if a client wasn't calling for your help to find a book, you most likely would have laughed at his behavior.

Night has fallen for an hour or so when you finally lock the bookstore door behind you, and when the cold wind caresses your cheeks, you sigh deeply. You like this place, it's a bit of a second home for you, but good god, you want to be at home, even if you have to deal with your roommates' antics until you fall asleep.

"Excuse me?"

Your blood freeze in your body, you should have checked that no one was around the store when you went out, because Taeil is already gone, and he won't be there to help you if a drunken idiot, or a little too pushy keeps you from coming home. You take a deep breath, but it hitches in your throat when you turn on your heels. "Can I help you?" you ask in a voice that you hope is not too shaky.

The young man stays silent for a while, and you frown when he tilts his head a little too slowly not to look like a killer straight out of the horror movies you love so much. You clear your throat, and he seems to take notice of the question put to him, so he nods, extending a hand to you. "You dropped that." in his hand, you see the notebook that you always keep in your bag, bag that you have thrown over your shoulder without even taking the time to close it.

The lump that had formed in your throat is disappearing as quickly as it came, and you refrain from sighing in relief. "Oh, thank you very much!" you take the notebook that you put in your bag before closing the zip. "Thank you?" the young man answers, but before you can open your mouth he walks away from the shop.

You happen to meet strange people, but this is the first time you've met someone like him, someone who seems surprised to have been thanked for something as mundane as returning a notebook. Taeil would say that this is a person's first life on earth. Him and his writer mind.

Even though the stranger didn't look dangerous, you make sure he got far enough away to walk in the direction of the stairs leading to the underground metro. If you're not a fan of this place, you like being there at this late hour, because it's not so crowded, and it's easy for you to find a seat in the metro. You push your headphones into your ears, and you look up at the screen near the sliding door.

You roll your eyes when you see the ads for LSM going on. If you were to earn $10 every time you saw it on TV, or heard it on the radio, you would have enough to pay your rent for at least six months without needing to work. This really isn't an exaggeration, the company really wants everyone to know about what they are offering, new updates on their bots, and how excited they are to have sent the most of their new robots in the world for work, for study, or for entertainment.

You have nothing against robots, you just think it's a shame to take jobs from people who genuinely need to work, but apparently: "robots aren't here to replace you, they're here to make it easier for you. Do not be scared, technology is good, we need it." You're not sure if you're okay with that, and you'll let it know when the robots take over the world.

Lost in your thoughts, you almost forget to get up to get out of the metro, these damn robots will end up making you miss your stop. Yes, sometimes it's much easier to blame the robots than it is to accept your responsibilities.

"Johnny, if you don't get out of the bathroom in a minute, I swear to god I'll make you swallow your camera!"

you growl, and you open your eyes. Why do you always have to wake up regretting all the decisions that brought you here, living with two roommates who are ready to tear their heads off at the first opportunity offered to them. "And I'll make you eat your books back if you do that!" you hear Johnny respond, and you wonder why the neighbors haven't filed a noise complaint yet. You would have done it since day one.

"Doyoung, you don't work Saturdays, why are you already up?" you ask in a voice loud enough to be heard, and what you didn't want to happen happens. The door opens, and your gaze meets Doyoung's, he has furrowed brows and dark circles, since when has he not slept? "For your information, young lady, I would be sleeping if Johnny hadn't knocked on my door at six in the morning to ask me for the time!"

"Not that I want to stand up for him, but you looked for it by setting his alarm clock to go off at five the other day." you answer, and he rolls his eyes as he walks into your room to drop into the bed, and you groan when his back blocks your legs. "Doyoung, I have to go to work, so if you could move that would be very nice." he doesn't move, and you wiggle your legs until you can free one. "As soon as I convince Taeil to give me a raise, I'll find myself another apartment and I won't have to deal with you anymore." you mumble, and Doyoung chuckles.

"Even if he agreed to give you a raise, which he won't do until he has published two more books, you won't leave. You don't like silence, and you will miss us too much after the first day." he's not wrong, but you could always find a new roommate. "It's okay, I'll find someone else. Someone who doesn't make me want to throw myself out the window every morning."

"If you need help finding a new roommate, ask us, we'll be happy to help." you sigh when you hear Johnny, and when you turn your head, you roll your eyes. Johnny is in the doorframe, a towel hanging low around his hips, and drops of water falling from his hair. "We'll find you someone good. Or someone worse than us, Doyoung and I will have to talk about it before we decide."

Before Doyoung can react, you free your second leg, grab your clothes for the day, and head to the bathroom, not without pushing Johnny out of the way. "Y/n, I'll make you eat your fucking books!" Doyoung growls as he straightens up, and you laugh. You know he can do it, but before that, he'll take the time to find the worst book in your book shelves to do it, so you'll have plenty of time to run away, change your identity and be forgotten.

You need less time than Johnny to shower, and to be ready to go. When you come out of the bathroom, you notice that the two boys are still in your room, and they are chatting as if they hadn't threatened each other less than twenty minutes ago. "Are you going to stay in my bed? Don't you have bedrooms, or a couch where you can talk?" Doyoung looks up, and he smirks. "Your bed is much more comfortable. We're talking about what to do with this room when you're gone." little shit.

"Well, since I'm apparently the only one working here, I'm going to go. See you tonight, or never." you get your bag that you throw on your shoulder and you stick your tongue out at Johnny who waves to you without moving from your bed, the sheets are going to be damp because of him, and you want to hit him for that, but that might make you late for work.

You leave the apartment, and like the day before, you quickly find the stairs leading to the underground metro, and unlike yesterday, it's more difficult to find your way through the students, workers and partygoers who have just returned from a party the night before. You concentrate on your breathing to avoid letting yourself be overwhelmed by the different smells of perfume, sweat, and alcohol.

When the doors slide open, you quickly get out of the train, and you find the outside. You never thought you would miss the clean air as much as since you started taking the subway to work. Since Taeil is away, the shop is still closed, and it takes you at least five minutes to find the keys in your bag, and for a second, you wonder if you haven't left them at home, but you sigh with relief when your fingers come in contact with the cold surface of a key.

You unlock the door, and walk into the store smiling at the familiar scent of old books piling up in part of the store. When you started working here, you asked Taeil what the old books were for, that they would never be sold, but now you see the charm of the old book with the damaged binding, the sound of the pages, and you wouldn't do without them. You put your bag on the counter, and you turn on the lights.

Taeil must have gone to the store before leaving, because you can find the boxes already behind the counter. You could have taken care of the delivery, but Taeil likes to check that everything is there, even if he might be late for an appointment that could really change his writing life, even if in your opinion, he is already quite popular and doesn't need more help.

You sit up when you hear the door open, and you open your mouth. "We're not open yet, sorry." you say, and if you expected the door to close, it stays open, and when you look at the person, your eyes open wide. This is the man who gave you your notebook back last night, and once again, he tilts his head far too slowly not to be awkward to watch.

“I'm LC27296,” he begins, but he shakes his head with a certain vigor that you would never have at this time of the morning. "I'm Ten, I'm going to work here." your mouth opens, but no sound comes out. For a minute, you forgot that you were supposed to take care of the new employee. "Taeil told me to come before the opening to make it easier." oh he did that?

"Before I introduce myself, I have a question for you. What were you doing here last night?" you ask and he suddenly seems nervous. "I- I didn't mean to scare you, I just wanted to make sure of how long it would take me to get here, so that I wouldn't be late for my first day." you hum, not sure you believe it, but it's not like you can accuse him of something without having any proof whatsoever. "Alright. I'm Y/n, I'll take care of teaching you how the store works until Taeil comes back in a few days. You can shut the door."

Ten does, and he approaches the counter, he doesn't seem in his element, but if Taeil hired him it's because he saw something in him. "Why did you give me numbers when I asked you for your name?" you suddenly ask, curious.

"Oh! It's my serial number, but I was told I had to introduce myself with my name, it makes it easier to fit in." a serial number, what the hell? You frown as you take your phone from the pocket of your jacket, and you open up the conversation with Taeil.

To Taeil: A serial number, what's wrong with the guy you hired?

Taeil must still be in the car, or on the train, since the answer is not long in coming. You shouldn't ignore Ten, but you need an answer before you decide whether you want to be locked up with a stranger all day, or not.

From Taeil: Ten is a robot. LSM sent me a letter a few weeks ago asking if I wanted to take any of them, and I said yes.

To Taeil: And you didn't find it useful to tell me that I was going to have to train a robot? And besides, aren't they already programmed to know how to do everything, why should I waste my time training him? Is this your way of telling me that I'm fired and that you will only hire bots from now on?

You don't get a response, which shouldn't surprise you, so you put your phone on the counter, and you meet Ten's gaze, who hasn't moved an inch. Did he himself on pause while you were busy? "So you are a robot?" you ask in a small voice, and he nods. "Yeah, you didn't know?" honestly no, even though LSM has some amazing quality robots you would expect to see them with bolts and metal.

"It's my first day away from the factory, and I'm very happy to be here!" he adds, and you roll your eyes, if he's happy that's the main thing, but you're not sure you are. "You can think of me as a human being like any other, no need to make a difference because I am superior to you." you gasp at him, but  you can't help but smile, stunned. "Just because you're made of metal doesn't mean you're superior to us. I'm sure if I throw water at you you'll rust and stop working, so in a way, I'm superior."

"You can try, but it won't work! That would be stupid to think we fear water, or fire, or anything for that matter, right?" oh, it might get hectic if he continues. "How about I show you how the store works? Because if we talk any longer, I might look for other ways to turn you off, and you wouldn't want that to happen, would you?" he shakes his head, a worried look on his face. Perfect.

You're going to have a serious conversation with Taeil, you think, showing him where the books go, how the cash register works, and where the storeroom is, storeroom that is also used as a rest room.

"For starters, you're going to go to the storeroom, and you're going to sort all the books alphabetically while sorting them by genre, can you do that, oh you superior robot?" you ask, tilting your head, and he shrugs his shoulders. "Of course I can do it!" Taeil never asked that the books in the storeroom to be sorted, since most are unsold books that will be donated to associations or the city library, but you don't want to have him in your legs when the first customers arrive.

You take your phone, and you send one last message to Taeil before turning on the light in the storefront indicating that the store is open.

To Taeil: This robot is an idiot, and if he pisses me off too much, I'm going to fire him whether you like it or not.

To make sure you don't receive an answer, you turn off your phone before throwing it in your bag before starting to put away the new books. And surprisingly, the morning goes off without a hitch. Ten comes out once or twice to ask you for advice on an unfamiliar book, the few customers who come in don't need your help, so that's nice.

When the time comes to close the shop for the next two hours, you enter the storeroom. Ten is sitting on the ground, and he's surrounded by books that should have been put away for a long time now, but the robot seems way too deep in reading to do the job you asked him to do. You frown. "Do you know that reading is not part of your contract?"

Ten doesn't react, he just turns the page and laughs at something he just read. "Taeil buys LSM magazines, I'll go check if I can't find an article on how to deactivate a robot if it becomes threatening." you say, and immediately Ten lifts his head to look at you. "But I'm not threatening!" he exclaims, like a petulant child would.

He may be a robot, but he has typically human reactions, which is strange in itself. At least for you. "They won't have to know when I throw your body in front of the factory you came from." you answer in a slow voice, and Ten finds himself on his feet, not without slipping a bookmark in his book so as not to lose his progress. "Sorry, I found this book, and it's so interesting I couldn't help myself."

You look at the title, and you smirk. You hide in the storeroom when you don't feel like coming home, and it's one of the books you've read. "If you don't want me to tell you who the killer is, you're going to finish putting those books away, and then I'll give you time to read until the store closes tonight, do we have a deal?"

He mumbles something between his teeth, but ends up nodding. You walk away from the room before remembering that you had a question for him, so you go back. "Do robots eat?" you wouldn't want to deprive him of his lunch break and end up with some sort of robots protection squad on your back for mistreatment. "Yes, we eat. I told you, we are like you."

"It's break time so you'll finish tidying up later." Ten passes over a pyramid of books, and he leaves the room, not without taking his book with him. "So, what are we going to eat?" he suddenly asks, and you want to take his book and hit yourself with it. "What do you mean, we?"

"Taeil told me you would take me out to eat with you so I wouldn't be alone in the store." Taeil should remember to tell you when he decides something, because you can't continue to be surprised every time he opens his mouth. "Did he say that?" a nod. "Great. I'm going home to eat, so I think you're going to meet the two most annoying people on this planet after you."

He squeals with delight and you roll your eyes as you pick up your bag. You exit the store by locking the door behind Ten, and you head for the subway train. "I love meeting new humans, you are all so fascinating!" you wonder what can be fascinating about humans, but for a robot, everything has to be. "What fascinates you so much about us?" you ask going down the stairs, being careful that Ten keeps following you, you don't feel like looking for a lost robot in the streets.

"We can feel emotions, but they're programmed for us, so it's not as real as when you feel them." human emotions are difficult to understand, humans are confusing. "I think it's pretty nice to be programmed to feel certain things, it's probably easier, less confusing."

"You're wrong," Ten starts to say, following you in the subway, he sits next to you not without looking at a little dog with stars in his eyes, as if he had never seen a dog in real life, so much so that you wonder if there are robot dogs, you'll have to ask him one of these days. "We're forced to feel the emotions, so we don't understand them. Being programmed doesn't mean we understand what's going on."

It's pretty sad, you think.

"Do you have a program that allows you to kill us if we becomes threatening for you?" you ask in a low voice so as not to attract the attention of the students around you. Ten's eyes widen and he chuckles. "No, we can't do that. We're not here to hurt you, just to help you." it's a shame, you would have needed it with Johnny and Doyoung.

"This is where we come down." Ten follows you to the door of your apartment. You can smell Doyoung's food already. He might be annoying, but when he's not working he always makes a snack for you for when you come home from work during the break, and that's very nice. "I live with two people, Johnny and Doyoung, they can be weird, and they might ask you tons of questions, so be prepared."

When you put your hand on the doorknob, Ten puts his hand on your wrist to stop you. "Wait, wait. Are they going to hurt me? Some humans can be mean when in the company of a robot." oh, he didn't sound so nervous earlier, but in a way you can understand that. "They're not mean, and they're quite fascinated by LSM's robots, so you have nothing to worry about, they won't do anything to you."

You open the door when he seems to be relaxing, and you sigh when you hear the loud voices that most likely come from the kitchen. "Johnny, how many times have I told you not to set foot in my kitchen? You're a walking hazard, you'll manage to set some water on fire if you wanted to! Get out!"

"Guys, I'm here. And I'm not alone, so if you could behave like normal people that would be really nice." you say and immediately Johnny's head pops out of the kitchen door jamb and you roll your eyes. "Oh hello mister stranger, who are you, are you our beloved Y/n's secret boyfriend?"

"I-" Ten seems unable to speak, and Johnny throws his head back when he notices the blush on Ten's cheeks as he lowers his head. "Oh, he's blushing! Adorable! He's in love but he hasn't had the courage to tell her yet. Doyoung, come see!" you should have known that they were going to mess with him. You should have warned them before you got home, threatened them, or promised to pay for the next pizza night.

"Shut up, big idiot! He's the new bookstore employee, we met this morning." you respond by swinging your bag in a corner of the apartment after removing your shoes. Ten does the same, and he follows you into the living room. You're pointing your index finger at the boys. "Johnny, Doyoung, this is Ten. He works with me."

"Oh, I didn't know Taeil was okay with hiring bots." Doyoung says, stunned. "How do you know it's a robot?" were you the only one who didn't have a clue? The only one that can't tell the difference between a robot and a human?

"It shows! And he's got LSM's name tattooed behind his ear." You'll have to go see the ophthalmologist to get glasses, because you didn't notice the black ink behind his ear. "Taeil didn't really hire me, it's just a contract for a couple of months to see how quickly I adapt to a new environment. Next time I'll be in a new place." oh, that's a detail you didn't know either, you thought Ten was here for good, at least until you got fired, or left.

"And can't you ask to stay at the bookstore for good?" you ask, sitting down in a chair, and Ten shrugs. "Why, have you already become attached to me? You refuse to see me go?" you could get up and hit him, but you don't want to break your fist if he is made of metal inside. "I said that because I wouldn't say no to less hours of work, dont think I appreciate you."

"She never introduced anyone to us, even casual employees, so you must be special." Johnny says winking at Ten, and you refrain from leaning over the table to hit him. "Taeil asked me to take care of him, what was I supposed to do, lock him in the storeroom with a piece of bread and a glass of water?"

"That's what you would have done with us, so yeah." he's not wrong, that's what you would have done if you had had Johnny and/or Doyoung as a colleague. "Anyway, we don't have all day, so if you could just leave Ten alone so we can eat." you mumble, but Ten shakes his head, apparently he doesn't mind being the center of attention. At least he knows that emotion, and he understands it, that's a good thing.

When it's time to go back to work, you almost have to pull Ten out of the apartment. "But why? I was having fun with your roommates!" of course he was having fun. "You can come back and see them if you want." you answer by going down the stairs. You have a little over thirty minutes left before you have to open the store, so rather than locking yourself in a subway train, you decide to walk.

"Really, you would let me come back?" you shrug your shoulders. "Why wouldn't I want to?" Ten plays with the hem of his hoodie, and you frown, he doesn't look like the type to be surprised or even slightly nervous over something as futil. "Because I wasn't very nice to you when I arrived this morning. But like I told you, some humans don't want us to fit in and want to harm us, and I heard so many stories that I defended myself if you ever decided to be like them."

"I don't understand robots, I don't understand LSM's motivation, but that doesn't mean I would hurt any of you. You should have waited, and you would have known it."

"I'm sorry Y/n, and I promise I'll do my job well until the end of my contract!" he exclaims, his smile back on his face. His beautiful face, moreover, you did not miss this detail. "I hope so, otherwise I won't give you time to read before closing." he gasps, but he laughs, and you have no choice but to laugh with him.

[writersrealmbts]

Take This Road

Description: Part of the summer #btswritingbingo, hosted by @bangtanwritingbingo​! For road trip.  You've taken an unusual turn in your road trip, and your new passenger is the primary cause.

Warnings: casual discussions of arson and murder

Posted: 07/31/2021

Tags: Jungkook x reader, sort of mafia au? sort of gang au?, road trip au

idk what genre this is: 1,503 words

A/N: This one was really fun

Too many snacks.

You had too many snacks for one person.

So...was it fate that brought your passenger?

Or was it the fact that he shoved someone under your tires as you were driving past?

“So...remind me again where we’re going to dump this body?” You asked.

“He’s not dead.”

“Yet.”

“Yet. If he does die...well, there’s a nice floating bog not too far from where I live that could work. Or I could use him as a decoy body in a housefire.”

“Oooh, I know this one,” You chirped, turning the volume up and singing along with the radio.

Your passenger, the one that wasn’t dying, was soon singing with you.

It did strike you that maybe you shouldn’t be so casual about the fact that you were transporting a dying person with the person who had tried to kill him using your vehicle, but honestly...you kind of were guessing that the guy you ran over may or may not have been abusive and you didn’t really feel like asking.

“Such a good song,” Your passenger sighed. “Oh, I don’t think I told you, but I’m Jungkook, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you Jungkook, y/n.”

“Nice to meet you. Sorry to change your plans.”

“No problem, really. I was kind of bored. If you want any snacks, feel free to grab any. Any but the chocolate covered pretzels. Those are mine and I will shove you under my tires.”

“Understood. So, should I explain why I tried to kill him?”

“I mean, if you like. Do I need to turn here?”

“No, it’ll be the next one. So, that guy is actually a loan shark. Except, when you can’t pay in cash, he takes people.”

“Ew.”

“Yeah. I was hoping he’d be helpful and tell me where he sent my friends, but...well….” He glanced back as the other man began to groan softly. “Oh. He’s waking up.”

“You tied him up, right?”

“Yeah. I owe you a roll of duct-tape and some zip-ties.”

“Don’t worry about the zip-ties. I’m not really even sure why I had them. Anyway, he took your friends?”

“Yeah. So I’ve been trying to track them down ever since. And then he told me tonight that one of them had died before he even sold them and I guess I saw red.”

“Well, I’d be concerned if you thought my car was purple or green.”

“True,” He tried a few different snacks before settling in with one. “Anyway, if he died, no big. If he lives and tells me what happened to them, awesome. I’ve got enough leads to carry on without him if I have to. What about you? You’re taking all of this surprisingly well.”

“He kind of struck me as an abusive bastard, to be honest. And that’s while looking at him half-dead on the road. But nah, I’m just sort of wandering around. I recently quit my job, and I’ve been on a road trip in the interim before my next job starts.”

“What’s your new job?”

“I’m working for Taiji International. Personal secretary to one of the higher-ups.”

“Isn’t that the one with suspected Mafia affiliations?”

“Possibly. I could probably poke around and see if they have any idea about your friends for you.”

“That’d be cool.” He sighed. “It looks like he might live.”

“Have you ever been to Keirishiro?”

“No. My parents always told me it was full of Mafias and gangs.”

“Exactly. He’s probably affiliated with some group. Which means they’re probably after you.”

“Probably….”

“So, we put him in your place and burn it down. They’ll find out it’s him, no problem, and then there’s just the question of where you went. No one would expect someone so wholly unconnected to you to be hiding you, or helping you.”

“But the fire….”

“Is the easy part. Frito’s bag near some outlet or appliance. Leaves no trace. Set these aside.” You pulled the bag up and tossed it at him.

“What about your road-trip?”

“Oh, I thought we could go to Keirishiro after burning your place down. That’s where my job is. You can stay with me. We’ll work on disguises for you, and I’ll find out if my work is associated with a Mafia or not. Then we can go from there. Hopefully they’re not associated with this piece of work.”

“You grew up in the Mafia, didn’t you?”

“Nah. I just spent way too much time working customer service.”

“Oh, I love this song,” He turned the radio up again, jamming to the song on the radio.

You thought the trip ahead of you would be quite pleasant with Jungkook for company.

“We’re going to pretend we’re dating, right?”

You hummed. “Actually, we might need to pretend we’re married. I sort of lied and said I was getting ready to be married which was why I wanted so much time before I started this job.” You rolled your eyes. “I was just going to say, ‘oh, it fell through and I was so heartbroken’ but a fake marriage would suffice.”

“Okay. Sounds good to me. With any luck, even if people know about me they may not know what I look like, so I might be able to pass as someone else. Then I’ll be sure to sell the part. And when the time comes, we split amicably.”

“Works for me. Go fifty-fifty on chores?”

“Mmmm, sixty-forty, I might not be able to swing as much for rent as you.”

“Ah. Between jobs?”

“Kind of. Something about endangering coworkers.”

“Oof. Yeah. We’ll see if we can find someone to forge an identity for you, that way you can get a job if it’s safe to show your face.”

“I might know a place. Got any CD’s?”

“CD player is broken and the last CD put in was a kids CD. Don’t touch the CD player. On the one hand, I know twenty children's songs. On the other hand, I would like to throttle whoever broke the CD player because I know twenty children’s songs.”

“Got any drinks?”

“In the cooler, behind your seat.”

“Ah!” He unbuckled and reached around, getting drinks for both of you. “I’m thinking: maybe instead of burning my place we just clean it out and dump him in the bog, whether dead or alive. That way we don’t draw unnecessary attention to me.”

“Fair. Okay. Then where am I going?”

“Stay on this road for another...five miles?”

“Map in the glove-box.”

He pulled it out, unfolding it and taking a few moments to gather his bearings. “Yeah, about five miles, I think. It’ll be the third road on the left.”

“Okay. Feel free to mess with the temp controls, I tend to keep things cooler than they need to be.”

“I’m good. Might channel surf, though,” He said, waiting until you had nodded to start trying other stations on the radio.

“You have a license?”

“Definitely.”

“Great. We can take turns driving, then.”

“Works for me.”

“Uuaaaghhhh...wh--what?”

You glanced in the rear-view mirror. “Oh dear.”

Jungkook quickly got up to deal with the passenger. “Didn’t expect him to wake up.”

You sighed. “Poor soul, he just didn’t know what hit him.”

“Better than he deserves,” Jungkook muttered, holding up a notebook. “I forgot to mention, I got his ledger from him. There are lots of names in here.”

“Ugh. A bog is almost too good for him.”

“Almost,” Jungkook agreed, sliding back into his seat. “You understand the danger we’re getting into, right?”

“Yeah. I do.” You gestured to your backpack. “Front pocket, there’s a bag with some jewelry in it. There should be two rings. They were my parents. But they’ll do.”

He followed your instructions, pulling them out. He slipped your father’s onto his ring finger. “Fits well. Here you are, my wife.”

“Why, thank you, husband,” You said, taking your mother’s ring and slipping it onto your ring finger.

“So...what happened to them?”

“Hmm? Oh, no, they’re fine, but my father can’t wear rings because they make his fingers swell and my mom broke her ring finger so her ring didn’t fit anymore. They tattooed rings on their fingers instead.”

“Ah. So...your family is alive...and you’re still okay with this?”

You considered what to tell him. “My parents are private investigators.”

“So, this is….”

“Definitely not something they would want me doing. They’ve never been a fan of me sticking my nose into dangerous situations. But...you know. When both of your parents are private investigators….”

“It’s in your blood. Cool. I’ll follow your lead then.” He smiled, kind of peeking down at the ring. “I’ll be a supportive husband.”

“And I will be a loving wife,” You answered, sharing a smile with him. “This could be a lot of fun.”

“It really could.” Jungkook grinned and leaned back in his seat, staring at the road ahead. “Next road.”

“Right.”

You looked forward to where this journey led you.

[blessednereid]

Love and Monopoly

 Love and Monopoly

Milton Greasley x Reader, 

Fandom: TVDU/Legacies 

Dialogue Prompts: “Try focusing more on your life and less on mine!” and "You make me feel like I'm not good enough."

Fun Take on Angsty Prompts

Warning: Cursing, Drinking, Kissing, Necking, Mentions of food, brief mentions of blood (bunny blood for vamps), Monopoly

A/N: Someone please open my messages and give me a crash course on how to write a makeout scene I can’t do it, OMFH ಥ‿ಥ

Word Count: 2760

You and Milton Greasley had been dating for 5 years. 

You met during your shared time together at Salvatore Boarding School. You were a witch who helped MG calm down whenever he went into a ripper mode. You had used spells to lower his bloodlust. You even made the bunny blood that the school had fed vampires taste as close to human blood as you could without triggering a negative response. 

 After you all graduated, The Super Squad all rented a house in Mystic Falls, and you were all roommates. The house had 5 bedrooms, one for you and MG, one for Lizzie, one for Josie, one for Hope, and one for Kaleb. However, since Josie and Hope began dating, they had moved into the tribrid's room, so now the empty space was more of a game room. There were board games and consoles in the closet, a pool table, and a regular round glass table surrounded by armchairs where you all could sit and play games. 

Tonight was your bi-weekly game night, and you all had decided to play monopoly. Though it was a unanimous decision, you knew it could take days to finish. You were all very competitive, and none of you would go down without a fight. This is why, to finish faster, you decided to have a team game of monopoly.

On the day of, everyone had started going shopping for the concessions for the event. Trays of assorted cookies, hors-doeuvres, sandwich platters, as well as multiple different fruit juices were bought and set on a foldable table in the game room. 

As you were setting and arranging everything on the table, your wonderful boyfriend came around to help you. 

"Don't worry, love, I got it," you chuckled. "I am much capable of setting a party table on my own."

"C'mon, you make me feel like I'm not good enough to do simple things, babe," he laughed with you, though his words triggered something in your brain.

"Oh yeah?" you quipped. "These are some pictures from the last time you set the table for dinner…"

In the photo, the table linen was frowned up, the forks were out of place, some placements didn't even have certain utensils. The plates were pushed to the center, chairs closer to the edge than the food was.

"Oh..." he giggled lifelessly.

"Now you see why you don't use super speed to set up something like that?"

"I mean, I don't think it's the super speed, darling. I was simply being blinded by your beauty that day."

 Your laugh thundered in the room. "Go away MG, I'm not letting you win today!"

"Aw dammit! Alright, love, I'll let you get back to your project," he stated before he walked out of the room.

--Meanwhile--

"Jo?"

"Yeah, Hope?"

The Saltzman twin had been brushing her hair in the mirror, getting ready for the game night later.

"You look gorgeous, so stop taking out every strand of your hair with this damn brush," Hope stated before yanking the brush out of the younger girls' hand. 

Josie embraced Hope in a warm hug. "Thanks, Hope."

~-~-~

"Alright, everyone. Welcome to 'The Super Squad Bi-Weekly Game Night.' I'm your host, Y/N L/N, and you're watching Disney Channel." All of the friends burst out laughing. "Tough crowd, I see I see. Well, let's move on with the game, shall we?"

"First up introducing, He's the founder, he's the mediator, He is… MILTON GREASLEY!!"

They all clapped and cheered for MG before you moved on.

"Next up, She's the brain, she's the brawn. She is the tribrid, and she's got it going on, Hope Mikaelson!!"

Whoops and cheers echoed throughout the room. 

You continued through all of your friends.

"The realistic, the cynic, the man with raps for days… Kaleb Hawkins!!"

"The sweet, the kind, but she can fuck up your mind, Josie Salvatore!!" 

"She's sarcastic, totally bombastic, Lizzie Saltzman everybody!!"

"And ME! Could you tell I was trying to sound like those game show hosts everybody? No? Well, I was. Anyways young ones-" You wore a giant grin to emphasize the corniness of what you were saying before continuing.

"Alright, I'm dropping the act. It's too hard, jeez!" They all laughed at your antics. "I hope you guys are laughing with me and not at me."

You explained the rules for the game of teams.

“Here’s the way it goes, each player has the same amount of money they would have in a regular game of monopoly. However, every team only has one token, teams must make agreements on all purchases, trades, and decisions. Teams must take turns rolling the dice, and one team member must always be present at the board.” 

“Alright.”

“Sounds easy”

“Let’s play!”

You stared at them dumbfounded. “I memorized and recited all that without stumbling on my words, and all I get is ‘sounds easy’?”

MG stood to comfort you. 

“It’s alright, love,” he said, rubbing your shoulders lightly before pulling away. You scoffed.

“Alright then, let’s play. In this hat, I have slips of paper with all of your names, but first, in this bucket are sticks with numbers that will determine the order of selection. Step forward.”

They all stepped forward and grasped the popsicle sticks prior to stepping away from the bucket. 

"Who has number 1?"

"Oh, I do!" Lizzie stepped forward and drew a slip of paper from the hat.

"Kaleb"

She and Kaleb sat back down at the table. 

"Number 2?" 

Hope stepped forward. 

"MG"

They also went to go sit down beside Lizzie and Kaleb.

"That leaves me and you, Jo," you stated happily. Jo and yourself had one of the best team duos. In school, you two would be partnered up for projects often. With that experience of communication, you were sure to win. 

You joined the rest of your friends at the table. Lizzie and Kaleb named their team, Team Siphon Vamp. Hope and MG had been Team 3 in 2, and you and Josie were the 'Twitches from two different misuses.' 

"Alright, before the token selection, I must announce the prize of the game.

"The winners of the game will receive a dish duty pass for the rest of the week." Cheers louder than before erupted in the room.

"Lettuce commence!" The silence in the room was lethally quiet, and you could quite literally hear crickets. "Get it? Because lettuce sounds like let us?"

"It's ok, babe, let's just play," MG said before pulling you down. You grumped before deciding with Josie on the Penguin. Hope and MG had picked the dog, and Lizzie and Kaleb had chosen the dinosaur. 

You, acting as the banker, dished out the money to all the players, and you commenced the game. 

Lizzie and Kaleb went first. Lizzie rolled the dice, rolled 7, and landed on a chance card, which told her to advance to the nearest railroad, and they bought it. Hope and MG went next.

MG rolled a 5 and landed directly on Team Siphon Vamp's freshly purchased railroad, M100 out of their pocket already.

"Ooooh… MG…. Honey, you're losing money faster than you did when that PS5 came out, babe."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, ok! I'm still gonna kick your ass!"

You were taunting him. "You sure about that, love?"

"Yep!"

"You didn't even try to "kick my ass" last night, darling," you smirked.

Oohs erupted from your friends, and it was evident you knocked his ego down a peg.

At last, it was your team's turn. You and Josie each took one die in your hands and rolled it. You had landed a 6 and a 4, which landed you a visit to jail.

"Look who's losing now! You're literally in jail, babe," Hope teased Josie. 

"Oh, whatever. Focus more on your lives-"

"-And less on ours!" your duo quipped. 

Lizzie protested to this. "Hey hey hey!! That is my twin! Only I get to finish her sentences!"

You all laughed at this but continued your game.

Almost 15 rounds later, and everyone had a fair standing in the game. 

Team Siphon Vamp had had 2 monopolies, on the railroads and on the pink properties. 

Hope and MG had 3 already, the dark blue properties, the brown, and utilities. They also had 2 greens cards, the other being in the hands of you and Josie, as well as 1 red card that was being aimed for by you and Josie, who had the other 2 properties. 

You guys also had monopolies on the yellow and orange properties. If you got the red card of Kentucky Avenue, you would be unstoppable. 

 "Baby," you called out. 

"Yes, love?"

"I'll give you the other green for the red," you and Josie smiled.

"That's not fair babe, you'll own the corner," he protested.

"But the green is worth more. Please?" you pleaded, giving him puppy dog eyes.

Before he could utter another word, Josie spoke. 

"We'll give you M100, and your first landing on any one of our properties will be free of rent."

Hope spoke up. "Sounds good to me!"

"Hell no! You're gonna have to do something way better than that before you fool this genius."

You whined.

"Fine, I'll give you one of my signatures back walks," you leveraged, knowing full well he couldn't resist. "C'mon, baby, I know how much your back has been hurting."

He agreed reluctantly. "Fine, but it better be worth it!"

Team Twitches cheered. 

"Wait, what about us! We'll be demolished, you selfish weirdos." This was true. Lizzie and Kaleb were low on cash, they had rushed too fast to place houses, and now they were paying the price.

"Tough luck!" Hope and Josie chorused.

 Soon, it had been as you all thought.  Kaleb and Lizzie were in debt to Hope and MG. They had landed on Boardwalk Avenue, and it had 3 hotels on it, so they owed them M6000, M6000 they did not have.

Soon, they ended up relinquishing all their properties back to the bank for auction to pay off Hope and MG, gave them the rest of their money, and had to leave the game.

 With 2 full monopolies from Lizzie and Kaleb, along with the last green property they needed, they had successfully turned the game around. Now it was Josie and you who were losing. 

You all decided at this point to split the teams. Each team dividing both the cash and the monopolies equally, and two more pieces were added to the board, on the same spots as their former teammates, and you resumed.

Josie was soon knocked out due to MG within 5 rounds, and Hope was quick to crumble under your might, two turn-loops after that. They joined Lizzie and Kaleb at the pool table. They were now drinking beers since they no longer needed to be sober.

Soon it was just you and MG left in the game. 

MG leaned forward closer to you while you were deciding what to do with your turn.

"You know what you could do, darling?" He whispered provocatively in your ear. "Give in."

You pushed him away. You were not going to lose to MG and his self-righteous ego that night. 

"Shut up."

"Give in, baby. I know you want to."

"Shut up, Milton."

"Hey, Hey, Hey!" He yelled. "No need to get hostile!"

You decided you hadn't wanted to place any more houses, well, you couldn't at the moment. You rolled the dice but were in for a bitter-sweet realization.

You had been ready to pay an M100 luxury tax fee before you realized you landed on Boardwalk, one of the monopolies Hope had let MG keep in the split. MG had only since put 2 more hotels on it, and the price was now M10,000

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!"

Soon, your friends rushed over to where you two sat and began cackling, all except Josie, who was still hoping her former teammate would avenge her.

"Babe.."

You began selling your hotels and houses back to the bank, but it still wasn't enough. You sold your properties and gave the rest of your money to MG, but you still owed a few hundred Monopoly dollars. 

"Fuck!"

 He kissed your cheek, much to your dismay, and happily accepted his victory. 

~-~-~

It had been almost 2 weeks, and you were still giving MG the silent treatment. He had been gloating about his win for the entire night, and you were livid.

You knew he didn't deserve it, but you didn't think you deserved to lose either. 

You were staring at the ceiling. You had just woken up, and MG wasn't beside you. 

You had hated those moments. No matter how mad you were at MG,  you hated when you woke up, and he wasn't beside you. 

After all, you guys had been through so much, and you were always worried that he would die abruptly and leave you. Even after the threat was over, you still felt this way.

After a few minutes, MG had come into the room, Kaleb at his side. Kaleb looked bored, and his face said all you needed to know... he didn't want to be there. 

He was carrying a pot of pink hydrangeas in one hand and a pot of coffee in the other. He placed both on the nightstand beside you, disappearing for a short while, before coming back with a giant fruit bouquet in his hands. He set it on the nightstand as well before exiting the room and closing the door.

MG had carried a platter of all your favorite foods. Eggs, just the way you liked them, pancakes, hash browns, and your favorite flavor of yogurt. He had also gone ahead and made a smoothie bowl with your favorite fruits. Berries and banana chips littered the surface of it. 

He placed the platter on the portable desk you had in your room for breakfast and bed and set it down, just above your lap. He then went to the mini-fridge in your room and got all the ingredients he needed to make your coffee just the way you liked it as well as a glass to pour it in.

"I'm sorry for bragging," he apologized. "I know how much you like to win, and it was very insensitive of me." He looked like he wanted to laugh at how ridiculous the reason he was apologizing for was. You turned your eyes away from him and the delicious breakfast he made.

"But baby, I miss you."

He walked over to you. "Please talk to me!"

He started trailing kisses on your forehead, down to your neck, resisting the urge to sink his teeth inside, something you had taught him. He knew exactly how to make you forgive him, and he was using every technique he had learned over the years.

"Please?" He whined, and you could see his pouty eyes without looking. 

He sucked on your collarbone for a while and left a dark mark. Then he moved to the sensitive spot under your ear. 

You moaned slightly, but he could hear it, even without his vampire hearing. 

He pulled away, causing you to frown and whine. 

"MG…" you complained. "That's not fair."

"So you're talking to me now?"

You looked away, you had slipped up, but you told yourself that would be the last time.

You simply ignored him and started to eat your breakfast.

He walked back towards you and began nibbling on your ear.  You threw your head back in pleasure. 

"Look at me, darling." 

He reached his nimble fingers out to your face and trapped your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"I said I'm sorry, and I really, really miss my girlfriend. I made you a nice breakfast, and I've let you pick the movie every night since monopoly. What more do you want?"

You moved the tray of food to the side of you and stared at him indignantly. 

"I wanted my boyfriend to not be an egotistical asshole. I thought I was dating MG the vampire, not Jed the werewolf."

"I'm sorry... What can I do to make it up to you, love?"

"Let me out of that back walk favor?"

He scrunched up his face in horror. "That was part of our deal."

"Technically, you're not even supposed to be able to make outside game deals in monopoly, so you could let me out if you wanted to."

"Fine." 

"Yay! Those hurt. They're so energy draining."

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yes, you can," you smiled.

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Shelbys at Somme: Chapter 8

Thomas X Reader

3744

Summary: Tensions grow between Grace and Reader when Grace is informed one of her co-workers is dead. Reader meets Ada.

by @adventuresintooblivion

Grace was due for a rendezvous yesterday, but she hadn’t a moment of free time until the Garrison Pub closed its doors two hours after it was supposed to. She had called into the station, but no one answered, which led to her practically sprinting to the nearest cabby who might take her to see Inspector Campbell.

After an all too expensive ride, Grace strode into Inspector Campbell’s office, clutching her purse between herself and the world. At first he didn’t even look up from his papers. It wasn’t until Grace cleared her throat that he spoke.

“You’re late.” He slowly looked up. Something about his posture had changed since last Grace saw him. While before he had stood tall and proper, now he held a tension in his movements.

Grace glanced down. “The Pub kept me working late yesterday. Everything was closed by the time I was free to contact you.”

Inspector Campbell grumbled, “You could’ve come over.”

She raised her eyebrow. “To your house Sir? Isn’t that dangerous?” 

Not to mention wildly inappropriate?

The Inspector ran his hand through his thinning hair. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. But your father would want me to look after you, so I can’t have you missing deadlines like this.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, why didn’t you send anyone now?”

It was his turn to break eye contact. “Something has happened. I’m not sure how big it is, so I didn’t want to endanger your cover just in case.”

“What happened?”

He grimaced, “We questioned that girl you gave us a picture of. We’d been keeping an eye on her, but when she contacted Thomas and stuck around we thought he might be trying to fence the guns through her.”

Grace felt blood rushing in her ears as the world dropped from underneath her. “W...Who did she turn out to be?”

Inspector Campbell shrugged, “Y/F/N. She was an old war buddy of his. Worked in his company as what they called a Runner. Distracted the Germans while they dug.”

“She joined the army and fought?”

The Inspector nodded but didn’t elaborate. He started shuffling through papers until finally he held one out for Grace. When she took it there was a list of names with Y/N’s picture next to it. Each name had a different occupation listed next to it along with locations.

Grace frowned, “Is this all her?”

He shrugged, “Supposedly, though she’s never done jail time for anything. I’m half convinced most of these she just made for fun.”

“So how did you get her to come in? I didn’t think she’d be the type to offer up information for free.” Grace folded the paper and tucked it away in her purse.

Inspector Campbell’s features darkened. “Oh, it wasn’t free. She gave us no choice, we had to corner her. When she tried to escape, she killed Matthew.”

She froze, “Matthew’s dead?”

He nodded. “The funeral is this weekend. Due to your current assignment, I can’t allow you to attend, but we are all pitching in to help his wife and son. At least until she can figure something out.”

Grace nodded and practically threw what little cash she had on hand at him. She’d always liked Matthew. They’d bonded during the late hours working to neutralize the IRA. When Inspector Campbell had offered to take them both to Birmingham, Grace had even helped him pack up his whole family. Now he was gone.

Something about the situation didn’t all she could think about was her friend’s tired smile. “Please tell me you at least got something.”

He paused for too long but Grace was desperate for an answer, “We have a possible location.” 

She nodded. It was all she needed to keep going, to not run out of here right now and give Y/N a sound lashing. 

〜

The next day Grace wiped her hands on her apron, her foul mood having settled in to stay. Her mind kept wandering back to images of Matthew. While Inspector Campbell hadn’t gone into details about his death, her imagination provided plenty of gory details for her to mull over. 

She knew Y/N was upstairs. Hell, the topic of last night’s search party was all she heard about all day. Details were fuzzy at best but from what she could gather Tommy had roused half the Peaky Blinders in the late hours of the night to track her down. 

Grace tried to strike up conversation multiple times with her patrons, but they were all dead on their feet. Several of them went so far as to nap next to the pints they’d been nursing moments before. Even Harry’s stern glares weren’t enough to keep them awake.

Yet Grace was determined. If she couldn’t get information from them, she’d get it from Thomas when he returned.

〜

It was late afternoon by the time Y/N awoke. For the first few moments she lay there perfectly still and enjoyed her last couple minutes of peace. Then she shifted and it was all over. Her muscles spasmed, causing her to lose her breath for the briefest moment.

“Well, damn, I was wondering when you’d join us.” Nearby a woman sat with a book splayed open on her lap.

Y/N slowly sat up, her arms shaky beneath her.

The woman stood suddenly. "Hey now, don't you think about getting up alright? Tommy gave me strict orders to keep you off your feet."

Y/N chuckled, "Thank you for the attention, Miss…?"

She waved away Y/N's feeble attempts to dismiss her, "The name is Ada Shelby."

A smile spread across Y/N's lips. "So you're Ada? I was wondering when I'd get to meet you."

She nodded proudly, "The one and only. Now listen here, missy. You'll not get out of this bed until you're healthy again. You hear me?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Y/N tried to hide her growing smile.

Ada ruffled Y/N's hair. "Don't be cheeky with me. You're the one that got caught by a copper of all things. Now, what would you like to do today?"

Y/N shrugged. "Just grab me a couple books and I'll be fine. If you need to go do something I don't need to be babysat."

"Well, while that might be the case I'm not supposed to really be out and about either." Ada fidgeted with the ties on her dress.

Y/N raised her eyebrow. "I'd ask how come, but it doesn't look like you're comfortable sharing."

"I know I can trust you, otherwise you wouldn't be living above the Garrison right now. No it's just… I haven't said it aloud yet. Not to anyone except Aunt Pol."

Y/N shrugged, "I mean, I'm not really sure where I stand. So really, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Ada sat back, drawing her shawl closer around herself. After a moment Y/N noticed it was the same as Pol's just a different color. Wonder which one of them knits.

Then Ada spoke so softly Y/N almost missed it, "I'm pregnant."

The words hung in the air allowing their weight to settle as the implications slowly became clear.

Y/N bit her lip, "And you've only told Pol. Yikes."

She glanced down, "Yeah, he's missing too. Do you think.. He’ll come back?"

"I'm not exactly the expert on that. “Y/N paused for a moment. “But I did also come back from the dead. That’s a weird case though, so I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask."

Ada smiled sadly at her. "You really came back for Tommy?"

Y/N blushed, "Don't say it too loudly. You're gonna make me sound like even more of an idiot." 

She burst out laughing, the color returning to her cheeks. "Come on, let's get you some breakfast."

"I didn't get a chance to buy any groceries yet." Y/N bit her lip.

Ada bounced back up excitedly. "Don't you worry about that. I stopped by the market on the way here."

"I hope you're not hurting for money then, because I have absolutely no way to pay you back right now." Y/N felt a pit forming in her stomach. Or pay rent for that matter.

Ada turned towards the kitchenette, the room so small Y/N caught herself checking to make sure the blankets wouldn't get caught underfoot. She rifled through cupboards and moments later the smell of food filled the space between them.

Ada finally answered, "Don't worry about paying for anything, Y/N. Tommy would lose his head if anyone asked you for a dime."

Y/N shifted around until she was sitting at the foot of the bed, closer to Ada. "Yes, making a deal with the Devil is the perfect way to never worry about anything ever again."

Ada threateningly waved a wooden spoon at her, "You calling my brother the Devil? Cause you'd be right."

They burst into laughter, an easy chatter formed between them. Ada remained for a large part of the day. Eventually the sun began to set and the two women were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Thomas waited barely a moment before slowly poking his head in. “I hope everyone here is decent.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “It’s not gonna be the time you’ve seen me in my underwear, Thomas.”

Ada cast her a somewhat scandalized look but was quickly distracted by Thomas’ soft chuckle. “Yet you looked manlier than most the men you were changing next to.”

Y/N gasped dramatically as she clutched at her heart. Thomas’ chuckle rose into a full on laughter.

“What kind of sorcery is this? I haven’t seen you smile like that since you found out John tried to stick it in the wrong hole his first time.”

“John did what?” Y/N’s mouth fell open in astonishment.

Ada glanced between the two shrugging, “He said his reasoning was that ‘that’s how animals did it.’”

Thomas shook his head. “I still can’t fucking believe-”

Laughter filled the room, however the mood was dampened quickly as Y/N groaned. Thomas rushed forward, kneeling beside the bed while Ada stood nearby frozen as they waited.

Finally, after catching her breath, Y/N grimaced, “Oh stop your fussing. A good laugh is worth a few loose ribs.”

“You’re supposed to be healing,” Thomas growled.

She dismissed his concern with a small wave, “If I spend all my time healing I won’t have any left for living. Stop worrying so much about me Shelby, I’ll be fine.”

He shook his head before turning towards Ada, “Would you mind giving us some privacy? I have to talk to Y/N about a couple things.”

Ada huffed, but soon her steps could be heard receding down the stairs.

Thomas slowly turned back to Y/N. “How are you holding up?”

Y/N shrugged, glancing out the window into the abyss. When did it get so dark?

He took her hand in his, so gently she almost didn’t recognize his touch. “Y/N, don’t spare me the details. I can’t do my job if you don’t tell me how bad it is.”

“What exactly is your job when it comes to me?” Her voice was the barest whisper.

There was a long pause as the answer hung in the air, the one they needed to be said before either of them could move on. It was their last chance to escape from each other; if he pushed her away now, she would leave. Disappear. Once again becoming the ghost of his past.

Thomas bowed his head, pressing his lips to the back of her hand. “I’m going to look after you.”

Only the slightest tremor in her voice betrayed her, “You don’t owe me that, Thomas.”

“Not everything is about payment, Y/N?”

She raised her eyebrow. “Is this the same Birmingham that I left five years ago?”

He released an amused hum from somewhere deep in his throat, finally looking up at her. The dark circles had etched themselves deeper beneath his eyes. A tightness around the corners reminded Y/N of the darkest days in the trenches. Instinctively she reached up to cup his cheek and brush the worry away with her thumb. 

“Rough day, Tommy?”

It was as if the whole room released a deep sigh, “It always is.”

Y/N gestured to the chair Ada had been using, “Wanna talk about it?”

Thomas ignored the chair and sat at the foot of her bed, his hip pressed against her leg and his elbows resting on his knees. Old habits die hard, don’t they?

He gathered his thoughts, but soon he was catching her up on a myriad of events. About the horse and the unfortunate turn of events that had taken place. The guns. Thomas’ meeting with Inspector Campbell and how close he had come to throttling the man. Danny’s head being payment for the death of a man he’d caused during an episode of shell shock.

For the most part Y/N listened, offering advice where it seemed to fit, until he brought up Danny, “They want you to kill him with witnesses?”

He nodded. “I’ve already taken care of that. A casing full of sheep brains.”

Y/N couldn’t stop the smile that played across her lips. “This is why I love you. So do you have a good hiding place for the guns or are they still at the docks?”

Thomas’s mind went blank, then suddenly every thought he’d ever had felt like it was clashing together as he registered what Y/N had just said. His heart was pounding in his ears. The room was too hot and not warm enough all at once. It took every ounce of control he had left to control his breathing enough to speak.

“W...what did you just say?”

“Hmmm? I was asking if you had a good hiding spot for the guns yet.”

“No...Um, before that.”

Y/N furrowed her brow, “I was asking if they demanded witnesses.”

Thomas finally let himself look at her. There was no indication that she was messing with him. No tell tale smirk or signature twinkle in her eye. She just sat there confused on why he was asking her to repeat herself. He ran his fingers through his hair.

His voice was gruff when he finally answered, “No, I don’t have a place picked out for the guns yet.” He honestly already had several ideas, but he couldn’t conjure up a single one right now.

Y/N glanced around the room thinking for a moment. “Why don’t you put them in Danny’s grave?”

“He’s not actually dead. I thought I made that clear.”

“Yeah, but if he was dead you’d dig him a grave come hell or high water. So you’ll have to dig him one anyways so that no one gets suspicious. Plus, this won’t be related to any other contraband that the Peaky Blinders deal with so if someone snitches on you, it won’t be there.”

Thomas blinked slowly before he nodded. “That is actually quite brilliant. I’m a little disappointed I didn’t come up with that myself.”

Y/N shrugged, “One of my many random skills, hiding things.”

Thomas wasn’t exactly sure what to say about that, but he had one last thing to tell her. After her slip-up in the previous moment, the words felt like poison on his lips. “I’ve also asked Grace to the races.”

“Did you just need her for a plus one?” Y/N raised her eyebrow.

Just say yes. 

“No, Billy Kimber owns the race tracks, and we’re expanding. Making legal money and all that.” He pressed his lips against his clasped hands, wishing he didn’t have to answer what came next.

Y/N frowned, confused. “And what does this have to do with Grace?”

Thomas sighed. “Mr. Kimber is known to enjoy sampling the pleasures of women. She asked to work for me, so I plan on offering her up to him as part of the bargain.”

“Did you ask her if she was ok with that?”

“No.”

She smacked his shoulder, a sharp sting exploding from his arm. “Tommy!”

“Hey, don’t hit me, Ms. Cracked Ribs.”

She shook her finger threateningly at him. “It’s Ms. Broken Ribs to you, and I’ll smack you as much as I damn well please. You can’t just go offering up a girl’s dignity like that.”

Thomas turned and grabbed her hands in his, preventing any further retaliation. “She asked to work for me, Y/N.”

Y/N growled, “She’s not from the underbelly of Birmingham. Or any other city for that matter. You can tell from a god damned mile away. Shit like this ruins women.”

He paused. “You may be right, but I don’t have anything else he wants.”

She let out a deep sigh. “What were you gonna offer him?”

He told her, and she nodded. They sat in silence for a while as they mulled over what to do about all this. At the end of the day they both knew if he brought Grace she would end up having to go with Kimber sooner or later. He expected it to say the least. And it wasn’t just Grace, any woman Thomas brought would be offered up as a bargaining chip.

Finally Y/N spoke, “She may have to go with him, but she doesn’t have to stay with him.”

“And break the deal?”

She shook her head, “Save Kimber. Like tell him she has something.”

He smirked at her. “So much for preserving dignity.”

Y/N shrugged. “At least she won’t have to sleep with him.”

Thomas glanced away, “Yeah.”

Y/N glanced down. Her hands were still in his, though his grip had loosened into something more casual. A small thrill went through her as she realized how much smaller her hands were compared to his.

She stammered as she spoke, “It’s getting late.” 

Thomas took a deep breath broken out of his thoughts. “Yeah it is. I’ll head out and give you some peace. If you need anything, come get me.” He stood, letting Y/N’s hands slip from his grasp. 

The air was cool on her skin compared to his touch. She found herself following him with her gaze.“Come get you? I thought you lived at the Shelby house?” she asked.

He paused. “I’m going to be staying in the room next door for a while, until you’re better at least.” And with that he was gone.

〜

Y/N awoke in the late hours of the night. Darkness had escaped it’s daily chains, exploded from every nook and cranny and coated the room in a thick film. It took her a moment to shake off the disorientation before she remembered where she was.

Then she heard what had woken her. Through the wall she heard a cry. She couldn’t tell at first what it was for, but then it came again. Thomas.

She stood slowly, pain shooting up her back with every step as she shuffled out of her room and down the hallway. When she finally reached the rickety door she pressed her ear against it.

“NO...Freddie!” 

That was enough. Y/N pounded on the door. On a normal day with the noise of people, it would’ve been deep and resounding. But now it was so deafening she caught herself wincing as she hit the wood.

A bewildered voice answered, “Wha..Who’s there?”

“Thomas it’s me. Open up.”

A shuffling sound and rattle later the door opened slowly. Thomas blinked at her blearily with bloodshot eyes. Y/N waited patiently for him to come back to reality just enough.

He asked groggily, “Is everything ok?”

“You’re having nightmares.” 

Thomas stiffened, glancing around as if the whole world might be listening. He was about to answer when Y/N stepped forward, gently placing her hand on his chest. 

His skin was hot and damp, the sweat having left a small layer that made him glisten in the barest of light. The air inside the room was hot as it poured through the crack in the door, trying to escape.

He placed his hand over hers. “What’re you doing?”

She looked up at him, somehow finding his eyes in the darkness. “Let me in.”

“She says at the entrance of the Devil’s den.” A soft rumble rolled from deep within his chest, a sleepy laugh.

“If you think I’m not a devil myself then I really need to jog your memory.”

“Y/N.” 

Every ounce of fight in him suddenly dissolved away. After so many years of nightmares. After so long in the darkness. After watching her die a thousand times in his dreams. He had no will left to say ‘No’.

Y/N pushed her way inside, careful not to bump into anything that could make her fall. The room was much smaller than hers, and the window wasn’t open even the slightest, accounting for the heat. 

As she walked inside she let her hand fall from his chest to intertwine with his fingers. Thomas let her lead him back towards the bed. It was actually smaller than the one she had in the other room, but that didn’t stop her from laying down and pressing her back against the wall.

She waved for him to join her, “Come on, Thomas. Before the room becomes freezing again.”

His brows furrowed as he tried to process what was going on. “I don’t think this will help your ribs heal.”

“Just shut up and get in here.”

He crawled in slowly, careful not to jostle her. Thomas paused before laying his head down. Y/N finally got tired of waiting and slid back onto the bed proper and maneuvered him until his head rested on her stomach. 

Her fingers ran through his hair as he mumbled, “This isn’t hurting you?”

“The broken ones are higher up. And while I’m pretty sure any doctor would be shitting themselves right now, I’m fine.” 

“Y/N,” he protested.

“Hush now, and get some sleep.” 

After a few moments he chuckled, “My feet are hanging off the edge a bit.”

She hummed as sleep reclaimed her, “We’ll just have to sleep in mine tomorrow.” 

“The scandal.”

“Damn right.”

[motheatenscarf]

White Trash Family Drama Saga, which I’m gonna just... retroactively find posts about this and tag them all with that because my god! It’s a LOT!

So, mom told Cousin no more n*zi shit over a long brunch one day. They had a heart to heart and cousin confided in mom telling her that she and her husband have actually been fighting a lot and that he doesn’t want her to spend so much time around her son. Which, I mean, big red flag, but Cousin also said her son was also planning to make her pay rent if she wanted to go live with him, so probably only one of those is true as an excuse for why she wasn’t planning to move out with him when he left.

Over that long brunch full of crocodile tears, cousin also confided that her son HAD bought a house, and even showed her which one, and where, and that he’d bought it in June and hadn’t moved in yet because he needed a couple of contractors to do some... mild work on it. I will link you the house if you message me privately, I’m not linking it here, it’s a NICE house, it needs MINIMAL work, he paid $450k for this thing, so apparently he inherited a LOT from his dad. 

Oh yeah, cousin’s son’s dad died in like, april of 2020, hilariously not of covid but of getting BODIED by a semi-truck. He was mush. Probably would have died of covid after another month or two, he was in a hot-zone in California and was a right wing christian nutjob who didn’t believe in masks or vaccines or raising kids when the mom wants to name them something else. Literally, cousin’s son found out about his half sister like 10 years ago, turned out this fucker just bailed on his girlfriend after the baby was born when she wanted to name her after her grandmother instead of his grandmother or whatever, never paid child support or called again. Fucker deserved getting crushed by a semi. I hope he died in agony. 

Sidebar, but on the topic of “people getting their comeuppance in a hilarious way,” during this eventful brunch, mom found out the reason Cousin’s husband has been avoiding everyone, or at least so cousin claims, is because apparently the dude never got circumcised as a baby? And he decided, Hmmm, I’m 40-something. I should change that! And got himself circumcised.

By a hack.

And it got infected! And the stitches keep breaking because of the boner he wakes up with every morning. Probably from sleeping next to his big n*zi flag every night.

So between my cousin spending more time with her son and his dong being broken, he’s feeling emasculated and taking it out on everyone and is sulking on his own.

BUT ANYWAY. Piece of shit though he was, apparently the dude had cash, and mom finding out just how MUCH money this kid was left with didn’t make her too thrilled that he’d been living with her rent free for 7 years without ever even  so much as helping around the house to earn his keep. The excuses for why he hadn’t moved out were flimsy too (he doesn’t want to live alone until his friends move in, he doesn’t want to be without a car while he’s on his own, he wants to wait to move in until the work is done on the house and permits take for eeeeever), and gently said that it was time to start nudging him out of the nest.

They ended their brunch with my mom giving my cousin $200 to spend at a casino and have fun with her, and stayed late enough to get the buffet dinner that night. Mom also, of course, paid for brunch before that. 

One more post to capitalize the... shit fest that this is.

[fourthwallhateclub]

Help me

Description: Emma is with Phoenix when she is kidnapped, can Bravo set aside their emotions in time to save her, or will they be too late...

A/N: I wrote some things like this over on Ao3 under “FourthWallHateClub”, this will eventually have a second part but with my ADHD I don’t know when that will happen 🙃 please feel free to send feedback on the fix, I know it’s shit but I live for shit so 🤭

@rebelreblogs

Emma's POV

Darkness... Floating... Silence... My eyes fluttered open and started to adjust to the light... where was I? The door slammed open,

"You're awake!" Was that... was that an Afghan accent? Then it all came back to hit me like a freight train...

48 hours before hand

"Sup Dalton." I said.

"Shut it Hayes." He said pissed off.

I turned to Mac with a questioning look, "Who pissed in his coffee?"

Mac smirked, "Don't take it personally, he's not pissed with you, he's pissed with Maddie. He was on his way to a football game with one of our old delta buddies when he got the call."

"It's..." I glanced at my watch, "1300 hours?"

"We we're gonna have a few beers!" Dalton groaned.

'More than a few.' I mouthed to Mac, he just coughed to stifle his laugh.

Matty walked in, tapping the glass creating a privacy screen, and clicked a button bringing an image up on screen. "Amir-Botzwat-Asharu."

"10 of clubs..." I breathed out in disbelief.

"International arms dealer, drug trafficker-"

"and grade-A prick." Jack stated matter-of-factly.

Mac snorted, "You can say that again."

"The guys been evading Phoenix since it was OPS, us personally for years, why are we concerned about him now?" I wondered.

"What's this got to do with us, CIA took over the case, why now?" Jack asked.

"If you’d let me talk, you’d know,” Matty said sarcastically, “He recently kidnapped and murdered an American. Phoenix have had him on our radar for a while now as you’re aware but the higher ups refused to green light the op to take him out, saying CIA had it handled. That all went to hell when their undercover agent was exposed, they shot him and put a bounty on everybody CIA affiliated."She said.

"We're on their SOS list Matty, we outrank some shitty little 'bounty' list." I said.

"Regardless, you, Dalton and MacGyver leave for the Middle East at 1600 this afternoon so you arrive at night, get your affairs in order because the big men upstairs say you don't leave till the jobs is done. You'll be properly briefed on the plane, but there are more pressing issues, you guys have up to date parachute qualifications right?"

"I don't like where this is going..." Jack mused.

"Me either..." Mac agreed.

"As much as I hate agreeing with you two shmucks, me three..." I said.

"Well whether you like it or not your jumping from that plane, there's no where for it to land where you'll keep your cover. Unless you want to walk 13 miles to where you'll be staying?" She challenged.

"WE'LL JUMP!!" We said in unison.

She smirked, "That's what I thought."

"Okay... where exactly are we going in the Middle East, and where are we staying?" I asked.

"You are going to Afghanistan."

"Fucking Trashcanistan?!? You've got to be kidding." Jack screeched.

Ah Dalton and his hatred for that place... he would get along with Uncle Sonny, man has a fear of bloody everything...

"SHIT!!" I yelled.

All heads snapped to me, "What's wrong Hayes?"

"Um... where exactly would we be staying?" I asked biting my lip.

"Navy base in J-"

I laughed nervously, "Would that be in J-Bad by any chance?"

"Yes, why?" Matty asked.

"We have a little problem..." I mumbled.

"And what would that be..." She mused, raising an eyebrow.

"My uh- my family was spun-up there a few weeks ago." I said.

"What do you mean Em?" Mac asked.

"I mean my family, is Bravo team. They are currently in the Middle East, and are stationed in J-Bad for the foreseeable future. What do we do?"

"I'm assuming that they were not among the people you told about your job?" Matty asked.

"No ma'am. Mac, Dalton, Bozer and Riley are the only ones who know..." I answered.

"You arrive at night anyway, you cover your tracks and stay as hidden as possible, don't talk to anyone and stay away from the sailors. Nobody is to know what you're doing there or who you are... to them you three are Black Rose, Hunter, and Eagle." Matty said.

"Yes ma'am."

"Well... get out of here."

We didn't need to be told twice, we were running out the door and to the squad room.

"What the fuck do I do?!?" I yelled as we entered the room.

"Want a hug?" Mac asked opening his arms. I nodded and walked into him tucking myself into his figure, "You'll be ok."

Jack's POV

"Wait! Is your dad the Jason Hayes, like Bravo 1, the legend?!?" I screeched.

"Uh- yeah.." Emma said pushing away from Mac and scratching her head.

"That explains a lot..."

"What do you mean?" She was confused.

"I mean, having worked with your father, I see where you get it from."

She laughed, "You are so old."

I gasped, "You mean we are so old. Mac and I worked together in the Army."

“No. You? You're old enough to be my dad. Mac? Is old enough to be my big brother." She laughed.

"Yeah, and we'll protect you like it too." I said hugging her shoulder.

"You won't have to do anything if my family spots me. I'll be on the first plane out of there and back home, complete with a tracker and navy seal protection detail. They'll never let me out of their fucking sight." She grumbled.

"You'll be ok. Let's get ready to rak out." I said.

"You're right."

I walked into my office and grabbed my rucksack and duffel. I met them back in the main room.

"List it Hayes."

She groaned, "Why???"

I smirked, "We're acting like the older brother and dad we are."

She rolled her eyes but spoke anyway, "I made sure my camping gear, fatigues and survival gear was in my bergan, along with Guns, ammo, knife and spare phones," we looked at her weirdly, "What? I'm sick of Mac breaking my shit. Dalton and I spend way to much fucking time at the Genius Bar creating new and inventive covers to explain what Mac does as is."

Mac raised his hands, "You got me."

She smirked, "I know I do, anyway, I grabbed my go-bag, passport and fake ID's."

"What's in your go-bag." I quizzed.

"Toiletries, Clothes, Cash, Raincoat, Matches, Lighter, Laptop, Flashlight, MRE's, water purification tablets, rope, duct tape, whistle, batteries, knife, and First aid kit. Why do we keep doing this?"

"Good, and we do it because we care." Mac said kissing her head.

“Ugh! Let's go." We headed out to Mac's truck and dumped our stuff in the back. She hopped in the back and we drove to Mac's place.

"Bozer!" Mac called.

"Sup guys." He said bro hugging Mac.

"We're heading out, I need you to take care of some stuff for us." Mac asked.

"Yeah ok, let me grab some paper." He said.

We walked into the kitchen and told him what we needed, Mac didn't need to worry because he lived with Bozer, so Em went first, "My rent is due first of the month, it auto pays but I need you to check on the seventh if I have mail just in case it didn't go through. I need mail collected on the 7th, 14th 21st, and 28th. Plants need to be watered but that can be done when you grab my mail, if anything happens there is a contact sheet folded in the draw of my desk, it'll tell you who to call, in what order. You good with that?"

"All good Em." He said with a smile.

"Thanks Boz."

"Your welcome, Jack anything you need." He questioned.

"I live next to Emma so same as her just no plants to water, if you could check on my place when you water Emma's plants that would be great, and there is a contact list in the box on top of the CD rack."

"Cool, I got it."

“Thanks Boz." Mac said walking back into the room with his bag.

"It's all cool man." He said.

We walked to the door before he called out, "Be safe, I want you back in one piece."

"We'll try Boz."

~Time skip brought to you by Sonny’s Bam-Bam~

We'd been briefed and where currently in our hammocks grabbing what sleep we could before we hit the ground running.

"Drop zone is up in 35."

"Let's go kids." I commanded with a laugh.

We packed up our hammocks and pulled on our jump suits. I strapped my duffel to the bottom of my bergan and grabbed my chute. Strapping my Bergan to my back I pulled the parachute over the top. I walked over to the ramp and waited for Mac and Em to join me.

"2 minutes to the drop zone"

"Ready ladies." I yelled over.

"We're coming." Mac laughed.

We attached to the central line and clipped in, we watched as the light turned on and the ramp lowered,

"5...4...3...2...1..."

The light turned green and we jumped. My drill instructors voice went through my head. Breathing Dalton... in for 2... hold for 4... out for 3... parachute in 3, 2, 1. Pull the cord. Release the parachute. Move your body vertical. Feet pointed down. Legs slightly apart. Hit the deck in 3...2...1. Land crouched. Bend knees and run forward 20 yards. Unclip and pull.

Emma and Mac landed next to me and we packed up our chutes.

"Base is roughly 1 click 228 degrees north east." I said.

"Comms up?" Mac asked.

"Yeah they are." Matty answered.

"Good." I said. "Let's go."

We moved our bergans to our fronts and held our duffel bags. We broke out into a jog eager to get out of the heat. Arriving at the 'base' we were met with our assigned CIA handler.

"Agent Jayden Riggs." He said offering his hand.

I shook it, "I'm Eagle, this is Hunter and she's Black Rose."

"Real names?" He asked.

"That's need to know." Emma answered.

“What do you mean, I'm your handler?"

"Look Riggs, we don't like spooks ok. We work alone, off our own intel. It's important our identities remain a secret." She answered shortly, that's my Hayes.

"Alright then, let's get you set up in cabins, Black Rose, you'll be separated from the men." He said as he started walking away.

"What?" I said.

"Gender sensitivity. Men and women are separated." He said like it was obvious.

"Yeah no, she stays with us. We don't care about gender sensitivity." Mac said before I could, reel in the big brother before you get yourself in trouble Mac.

"It's protoco-"

I cut him off, "Screw protocol, Black Rose stays with us."

"Of course." He relented.

He led us to a cabin as a humvee pulled up, out climbed 6 men and a dog, all in fatigues, before I could see anything else Emma pushed us into the cabin and slammed the door shut behind us as we collapsed onto the floor.

"What was that??"

"That! Was my family." She helped us up.

Jason's POV

We were on night patrol in a neighbouring town to J-bad, we'd been out for 6 hours and it was 0300. I decided it was time to head back.

"Let's move out."

We walked back to the humvee and climbed in. We'd been driving for about 15 minutes when we saw three figures drop from the sky.

"What the hell is that?" Sonny asked.

"I'll find out." I said keying my comms, "Havoc base this is Bravo 1, we've got three parachute jumpers coming towards base."

"Copy that Bravo 1, I'll find out." Blackburn answered, a few minutes later he keyed his coms again, "Stand down, their friendlies."

"What do you mean their 'friendlies'?"

"I'll find out."

I rolled my eyes, cryptic much. We watched as they landed about 5 clicks ahead of us and packed their chutes away, then started running towards base.

"We're not far out now. We'll talk when we get in." I said.

We got to the base gate and rolled through, getting out I saw three figures standing outside a cabin glance at us before one pushed the others into the cabin and slammed the door. Weird. After we dumped our gear in the shed. We walked into the team room where Eric and Mandy were waiting.

"Who were they?" I asked.

"Apparently they work for some government agency, they're following a lead on a case." Mandy said.

"Which agency?" Brock asked.

"I don't know guys. I don't know..." Eric said.

"Why did they jump Eric? Why not just land on the airstrip?" I quizzed.

"Apparently they're meant to be discreet. Nobody was supposed to know they're here." Mandy said.

"Well they did a crap job of that." Ray said.

"Actually Ray, you guys weren't meant to be out tonight, had base been on routine nobody would have seen them come in." Eric spoke.

"Well that's creepy." Clay said.

"What do we know about these guys Mandy?" I asked.

"Two guys, one girl actually." She stated hint of amusement in her tone.

"A girl?!?" Sonny yelled.

"What? Don't think women can do the same jobs as men? Or are you just worried she's going to outshine you." Lisa interrogated.

"No but if she gets snatched we'll be the ones collecting her." He grumbled.

"So? If she's snatched it's going to be for bad intel, and unfair conditions. Not because she's a woman." Lisa challenged.

"Enough! What do we know about them?" I yelled.

"Their handler couldn't tell me much, mainly because he didn't know a great deal. However, their code names are Black-Rose, Hunter and Eagle. Their handler doesn't know their real names and I suspect that's by design." Mandy spoke.

"Ok. First off those why do those code names ring a bell, Second what do we know about the organisation they work for?" Clay asked.

"Honestly? Nothing. None of my bosses know who or what they are and the further up I went the more I was told to stop digging." Mandy said.

"So what do we do?" Trent asked.

"We stay away. We don't talk to them, not only for your safety but for theirs too. You see them walking you say nothing, although I suspect given all the trouble they went to so they weren't seen while getting here, we won't be seeing an awful lot of them." Eric mused.

"Alright then." I said clapping my hands, "We need to sleep." I turned to Eric, "I trust if you find anymore information that could be of use you'll speak to us?"

"Of course." Eric said nodding curtly before walking out of the room.

[juniaships]

Loonatics Reboot: Origins

The cousins of the world-famous Looney Tunes, the Loonatics are resident protectors of the progressive city-state, Acmetropolis. Currently there are seven members headed by their mysterious mentor, but for now let's dive in deeper into the origin story of the first six Loonatics. We'll get to number seven in the future! 💛💛💛

The story goes, the Loonatics came about by chance. You see, not too long ago six individuals volunteered for an experiment conducted by the city's namesake ACME (the business). As all of them needed the extra cash, they didn't mind being used as temporary guinea pigs if it meant having the funds to pursue their dreams or pay the rent.

Unfortunately the test did not produced the expected results and was marked off as a failure. While the group were paid they were disappointed & went back to their normal lives.

Until abnormalities started cropping up.

One volunteer, a college freshman named Lexi Bunny, began hearing things, increased migraines, and physically cringing at even moderately loud sounds. Such condition affected the way she moved and grooved to the beat (she was an avid dancer) and one day, she had passed out from the pressure and sent to the emergency room. While she recovered she began seeing everything in a pink haze. Lexi didn't know exactly caused her health emergency but she had a feeling that it had something to do with the experiment. But she kept quiet, she wasn't one to stand up for herself, remembering a horrid incident trying out for her school's cheer squad. She wondered what the other volunteers were feeling...

The second volunteer was an Acmewood stunt artist named Ace Bunny (yeah yeah he's related to Bugs now let him train in peace). Whenever Ace felt particularly confident, he saw his vision turn red...literally. His eyes burned no matter how much ice or eyedrops he used. During rehearsals he started to notice how every time someone went to strike him, he dodged them every. Single. Time. Many of the crew members lucky to see were impressed, shocked even (much to the displeasure of the lead actor) & leaving the Looney cousin embarrassed at the increased attention.

The fourth volunteer was a scientist named Tech E Coyote. Like Duck he also lost his job though unlike Duck he was on the receiving end of an angry coworker. The poor man was left to craft consolation contraptions in the solitude of his workshop. One night he noticed some pieces of metal clinging to his lab-coat. At first he brushed them off but they stuck to his hands. He made a note to himself to use anti-static softener; but after several wash days the problems persisted and very soon larger pieces of metal started clinging to his clothes, hands, all around his body - one incident he knocked himself out with a frying pan! He also took notes of lights flickering around him, computers and screens turning on and off whenever he walked near them.

The third volunteer was a young man barely out of his teen years simply known as Duck. Danger Duck. He worked as a pool boy ironically had a hot temper. To put it best he loathed his job, feeling not being taken seriously by the oh-so-macho lifeguards that picked on him constantly. One minute he was complaining about his job, and the next thing he knew, he was standing in the middle of a desert. Than back to the pool. Than an artic region! He also complained of tingling sensations in his fingers, as if he dumped his hands in a bowl of cut peppers. And after one particularly frustrating day, he got so made he raised his threw something at the lifeguard... something red-hot and round...which nearly costed the lifeguard his life yet ALSO caused Duck to lose his job.

Rev, a pizza delivery man with a sense of words and no sense of direction, was the onlt one whose problems weren't seen. Not at least externally. During his trips he was relieved to not miss addresses as much as he used to. Maybe a stroke of luck he guessed. But now it seems his brain was replaced by a GPS because days by he can verbally recite the location almost every place in Acmetropolis from the tallest skyscraper to the dingey of alleyways. Not even having to travel to these places.

As for Slam, his already phenomenal strength increased tenfold, and so did his speed. Such growth massively helped his wrestling career. Every time he spun however, he swore he felt and heard the crick-crackle-boom of lightning...which one day during a match he accidentally electrocuted his opponent, promptly suspended for the rest of the season. At least the guy was alive...a cooked steak but alive.

Eventually these side effects took their toll and the citizens finally had enough. Weeks after the test the group went back to Acme to report on what they were experiencing, hoping to get some compensation to pay off frequent trips to the hospital.

To their surprise ACME was pleased to hear the results of the experiment had been successful after all. The CEO, Otto Matthias, saw potential in the ragtag group of Tunes and offered them a deal: work for his company as sponsored superheroes. There was a mixed reaction: Tech was skeptical, as was Lexi and Slam. Ace didn't know what to think of the deal, he wanted to be recognized for his talents. Danger was the only one totally on board with the plan (no more finding lost trunks). Rev was also excited yet nervous at the prospect. Otto added that the offer came with free housing, access to any and all Acme products, and a lifetime supply of Scooby Snacks (much to Slam's fancy).

Duck didn't have to hear anymore before immediately agreeing to the deal. He did not want to go back to being a lowly pool boy or any other position to be laughed at and bullied, and saw the deal as a surefire way to success. The rest of the group & Scooby Snack Slam decided to wait a week before giving their answer. Acme signed Duck as Danger Duck, the Living Magma Extraordinaire! Cool name is it?

Throughout the week the remaining Tunes pondered long and hard about the company's offer. Would this deal really help them find meaning in their otherwise pitiful lives? Or was it all a glorified corporate tactic designed to keep them quiet? Danger Duck, Living Magma Extraordinaire seemed to be having a good time, so they might be missing out on a stable fulfilling lifestyle. Surely it wasn't an evil trick? Right? Right??

The answer to their dilemma showed uo at their door. Literally.

For five days, each person received a visit from a woman dressed in a simple lavender coat with the hood drawn up. From the shadows they could make out ruby-colored lips, yet her eyes seemed to lack irises as they were entirely blank-white.

This woman claimed that she was the creator of the drug and that is was not meant to be in mortal hands. She claimed that Acme stole her formula for personal gain, warning them the CEO was not who he seemed & that they shouldn't take his word. When the civilians asked about Danger Duck, the woman vowed she would do everything in her power to try to steer the young man from a terrible fate.

"How do you know I can trust you?" That was the sentiment shared by the five Tunes, in varying words.

The woman only smiled. "It's all up to you," she simply replied before handing out a shiny triangle with the familiar shield logo on it.

As each Tune took the metallic shape in their hands, they wondered how would this hunk ol metal help them decide their future? The lady's words echoed through their minds...maybe...the shield was a emblem of their roots. How did she know so much about them and so concerned about their lives?

By the morning of the last day, it was Ace who came to his decision first. "I'll believe you," he relented. "If only you'll tell me more about this drug you made."

The woman shook her head. "I'm afraid that'll have to come in a group meeting," she said a bit tersely. The truth is too much to bear on one man.

"Here." She scribbled a few words down on a piece of paper. "Meet me at this location later this afternoon. Don't bring anyone else."

"Okay," Ace said a bit skeptically. He was about to ask more but the lady quickly left with a hurried goodbye. Ace blinked his blue eyes before reading what she had wrote. "I hope this ain't gonna land me on a watchlist," he muttered before starting to prepare for his impromptu meeting. He prayed that he made the right choice.

I'm making this as I go along XD

My goal for this chapter and the next one is to give the team a better backstories and the why and HOW they got together. I know the show had an origin episode but it didn't show them their first mission or how they actually met, only how they got their powers. As this is a reboot there are a lot of changes so instead of being set in the future, it's set in modern era and they're cousins of the Looney Tunes. I'm also trying to give them motivations: Danger Duck seeking fame and fortune; Tech seeking recognition for his genius; Ace forging his own path out of his cousin's shadow. I haven't gotten to Slam & Lexi's motivations as much as that would be for when I get to writing Weathervane (who will be Lexi's foil) and Massive (Slam's foil). Rev's motivation will also be explored as him learning to be more independent away from his family's wealthy lifestyle. As for my OC Mikayla Jordan, she's going to appear in a future post pertaining to the Freleng Royal Family oop spoiled my own OC subplot XD

[fandom-imagines-stories]

When He Came Home

Frankie “Catfish” Morales X Reader

Words: 2375

Summary: Your husband returns home from a ‘spontaneous vacation’ with a couple of his military friends, but you notice something off about him. While you already had suspicions, his unusual silence confirms that more happened than he let on. 

Notes: Yup. All the Pedro characters shall have imagines. (I’m also thinking about writing one for Oscar Isaac’s character Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia)

-

You were pissed. It didn’t take a mind reader to guess that. Frankie sheepishly put down his duffle bag and stepped into the apartment. 

“Hey, babe.” He greeted, taking off his cap and running his fingers through his hair nervously. 

“What. The. Fuck?” You whispered, making sure that the baby didn’t hear you. Frankie stepped towards you, but you kept to the corner of the kitchen, sending daggers with your glare. “Five fucking days. You don’t answer your phone. You don’t call. I have no idea where you are for five fucking days. I tried calling Santiago, I tried calling Tom-” You didn’t notice the way he flinched when you said his name, “No one answers. Jullian had a fever and I had to take him to the doctor and you weren’t here!” You threw the rag in your hand across the counter, the sudden motion scaring Jullian. His shrill cry filled the kitchen and you sighed with frustration, moving to pick him up. 

“I got him.” Frankie crossed the apartment to Jullian’s booster seat, lifting him up into his arms. “Hey buddy,” His voice was soft and comforting as he rocked the baby back and forth in his arms, bouncing on his heels. Jullian continued to cry. “I know, I was gone too long.” He leaned in, giving you a side glance as he whispered. “Momma’s mad at me.” After a few more minutes of bouncing, Jullian calmed down, laying his head on Frankie’s shoulder. 

“He only stops crying when you hold him.” All of the stress and worry you’d felt over the past five days just fell away, replaced with the relief of having him home. Frankie held out his free arm and you stepped into him willingly, letting him wrap it around you. 

“I’m sorry.” He kissed your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. After everything that had happened in those god-forsaken days, he held onto the two of you with all of the strength he had left. 

-

To make up for the distress, Frankie cooked dinner while you could relax in the living room, slowly swaying to the music on the radio. Your feet lightly grazed the wood floor as you moved, Jullian’s delightful giggle mixing with the music. He was sitting on the couch, reaching out to you with his fat little fingers. You picked him up and continued dancing, swooping him up and down to make him laugh more. Frankie peeked around the corner and smiled, wiping his hands off on a towel. This was the life that he wanted. Sure, the thought of reliving those days with Pope and the other guys was part of what got him to agree to the heist, but now that he was back here with you and his son, he couldn’t think of why he would ever risk it. 

“Dinner’s ready.” He announced, almost sad to break up the little party. When you looked over at your husband, there was something about his smile that was off. Something almost sad. Like he was afraid that everything in front of him was only a dream. You set Jullian down in his booster seat and felt a hand gently rest on your hip. “Hey…” Frankie started, pulling you close to him. “I am sorry. I should have told Santigo to go without me-”

“No, I get it.” You draped your arms around his neck. “A little vacation with the guys sounded fun. You needed to spend some time with everybody from the ‘old days’.” His lips formed a tight smile. 

“Right.” He pulled back and took off his hat, playfully placing it on Jullian’s head. The baby laughed and squealed as the far-too big hat flopped down in front of his eyes. Frankie smiled. “Come on, let’s eat.” 

A few hours passed and Frankie was able to get Jullian to sleep twenty minutes sooner than you would have been able to. The two of you opened some beers and turned on a soccer game. Frankie loosely draped his arm around your shoulders and you curled up next to him. During commercials, a trailer for some new action movie came on, showing a group of men robbing a bank with automatic rifles. You weren’t really paying attention until you felt Frankie’s shoulders tense and the arm around you pulled you closer. His breathing was fast and his eyes were unfocused. At the climax of the trailer, a round of gunfire went off and he flinched. 

“Baby?” You said softly. He hadn’t had this problem in years. “Frankie, honey, it’s okay.” You placed a hand on his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat. The commercial ended and he snapped out of it, looking at you as if nothing had happened. 

“I’m going to get some ice, my beer’s warm.” He announced, kissing your cheek and walking out into the kitchen. 

You didn’t say anything about it for the rest of the night. You figured that hanging out with the boys maybe just brought up some bad old memories. But deep in your gut, you had a feeling it was something else. A sudden vacation with a bunch of ex-military buddies? The more you dwelled on it, the more and more suspicious it became. 

You tried to call Tom, the most responsible of the group, to ask him some questions, but nobody answered. So you called Santiago.

“Hey Y/N.” His voice was pleasant and you could practically picture that smug smile on his face. “It’s good to hear from you.” 

“Santi, it’s been too long that I’ve had one of those cocktails of yours.” You laughed. You remembered Santigo being Frankie’s best man at your wedding, both of them all grins like a couple of high school boys. If anyone knew what was going on with Frankie, it would be Santiago. “I was just calling to ask how the vacation went. Frankie seems a little… off.” 

“Oh, um…” There was silence on the other end for a moment and the rustle of him switching the phone to the other ear. “The vacation was great. He’s probably just jet-lagged.” There was something fake about his laugh that did little to comfort you. While he was damn good at what he did when it came to his friends he was a terrible liar. 

“Right…” You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “Thanks, Santi, talk to you soon.” 

“Take care, Y/N.” His voice was suddenly sincere, almost guilty. “Give that kid of yours a hug for me.” 

“Will do.” You hung up just Frankie came out in his shorts and a toothbrush in his mouth. 

“Who was that?” He wondered curiously. 

“Just one of the girls gossiping about her ex’s new wife.” You shrugged. He stepped into the light of the bedroom and you gasped. Covering his arms and torso were scrapes and bruises, some of which looked pretty damn serious. “A fucking vacation?!” You shouted, wincing when you heard Jullian wake up crying. Frankie moved to go get him, but you stomped out furiously. “Don’t. Fucking. Move.” 

Of course, being the least favorite parent, you couldn’t get him to stop crying despite any of your efforts. You tried rocking him back to sleep, feeding him, changing him, but nothing ceased the wailing. 

“Babe, let me get him.” Frankie sighed from the doorway. 

“I’m fine.” You snapped, although your son’s shrieking was starting to give you a headache. 

“Y/N,” Frankie held out his arms and you reluctantly handed him Jullian. Almost immediately, he began to calm down. 

“I can’t…” You let out an angered growl and went to the kitchen for a glass of water to try and cool your head. You let the anger boil out of you until all that was left was the sheer panic and worry from seeing those marks. Slowly, you walked back to the nursery. 

“Shhh,” Frankie cooed, sitting on the floor next to the cradle. Jullian’s tiny hand held onto his finger through the bars Jullian’s eyes slowly closed and Frankie drew his hand away but he didn’t stand up. He just sat on the carpet, looking at his son. “I heard you talking to ‘Pope’. You’re right. We weren’t on vacation.” He hung his head, his shoulders heavy with guilt. “He called us in for a job. A drug dealer down in Columbia that he’s been hunting for years had a house out in the jungle where he kept all of his money. ‘Pope’ wanted to take him down and we’d get a fair share of whatever money we took. He…” Frankie shook his head. “He needed a pilot.” 

“Frankie tell me you didn’t.” You knelt down beside him, putting a hand on his bruised shoulder. After he got busted carrying his buddy’s coke, he lost his license. 

“That money could have set us, baby.” He muttered angrily. “We never would have needed to worry about rent, we could send Jullian to any college that he wanted, hell we could live in an actual house instead of this shitty apartment.” You ran your hand up and down his back, careful to avoid any sore spots. 

“So what happened to it?” You wondered. You weren’t mad about the money. You were pissed that he put himself in danger again. He kept his eyes trained on the floor. 

“Everything went so wrong.” His words seemed to choke him as he spoke. “We took so many bags full of cash that the helicopter couldn’t make it over the mountains.” He motioned the bruises and scrapes. “These are from the crash.” 

“God, Frankie,” You cried, wrapping your arms around him from behind, laying your forehead against his back in between his shoulder blades. Your hands rested on his stomach and he put his hands on top of them. 

“We were too damn cocky. Thought we could actually pull it off. But things just got worse and worse and the only way to get the rest of us out alive was to ditch most of the cash.” The rest of us. Things started to click in your head and you felt disbelief turn inside you like a sickness. 

“Frankie…” You moved around him so that you were looking at his face. “Why hasn’t Tom been answering the phone?” Your voice cracked because you didn’t really want to know. You wanted to pretend that it was just a stupid vacation. Frankie screwed his eyes shut and spoke quietly like if he said it soft enough then it wouldn’t be true. 

“Tom’s dead.” His eyes opened, glossy and lost. And just like that, the stoney expression shattered, the numbness of everything fading and allowing for the sting. Frankie’s lip trembled and he tried to choke out something else. His friend was dead. He’d watched him die. Watched his brains splatter against the rocks of that godforsaken mountain. Tom was a good man. A father. 

You didn’t say a word, instead pulled him into you, his head falling onto your shoulder, cradled by one hand as the other rubbed his back. His breathing was ragged and labored. And he clung to you like you were keeping him together, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. You stayed like that in silence for seemed like an eternity before the too of you went out to the kitchen for a glass of whiskey you’d been saving for a rainy day. 

He told you everything. From the walls full of cash to the villagers trying to take it. He couldn’t look you in the eye when he talked about the ones he killed. 

“I shouldn’t have pulled the damn trigger, but I thought that they were getting too aggressive. Nobody knows if I shot first or if Tom did, but he’s the one that paid for it.” He drank his glass in one gulp and put it back on the counter. “That kid should have come after me.” 

“Frankie, you can’t think like that.” You sighed, running a hand through his messy brown hair and resting it on his cheek. “What would I have done if you didn’t come back?” 

“Tom’s kids lost their father that day.” He snapped, pulling away from you. “No amount of money is going to change that.” 

“And those girls don’t deserve that.” You agreed. The thought of their loss made your heartache. You made him look at you again. “But would Jullian have deserved to lose his?” You didn’t fight the tears as they fell, watching them build in his eyes as well. “Who would get him to stop crying?” You both laughed through the sadness. “Because God knows I can’t.” 

Frankie finally smiled and pulled your lips up to his. His fingers found their way to the nape of your neck, tangling themselves in your hair. He thought about every time that he didn’t think he would make it back. That hazy blur when the helicopter crashed and he thought he was dead. That he would never see your face again or hear you yell at him. He would never get to see Jullian grow up. To teach him how to drive or watch him graduate. 

The two of you knew that you wouldn’t be getting any sleep so you reclaimed your spots on the couch and turned on some late-night talk show. You laid down with your head in his lap and one of his hands played with your hair while the other rested on your hip. 

“Hey, Frankie?” You started, rolling over so you were looking up at him. He hummed in acknowledgment and smirked down at you. “If Santiago ever needs anything ever again…” You lifted yourself up to give him a sweet and semi-seductive kiss. “Tell him he has to go through me.” He chuckled and grabbed your waist, deepening the kiss. The couch became a kind of sanctuary for him. The only thing that existed was you with your smile and your voice and your soft, unscarred skin. You were his reminder that there was still good in the world from the light you brought to the beautiful life that the two of you had created. 

He was here. He made it out of the hellhole alive. And he was never risking the life he built again.

-

Group Chat(s)Tag List (You know who you are!): @rae-gar-targaryen​; @jnniferjreau​; @ladamari68​; @libellule2001​; @c-ly-g​; @lovingtheway​; @anevrismes​; @cyarika-darling​; @caffinatedstudyspace​

[koko-bopp]

Flirty Criminal

Part Five

criminal!song mingi x detective!male!reader

word count – 6k

genre – low-key mature

warning(s) – blackmail, lot of choking, gun warning, degrading, mentions of death and murder

synopsis – “[Y/N] [L/N] is known famously around his police precinct as the detective that the infamous criminal Song Mingi has a crush on. The detective denies these claims, though Mingi gets into as much trouble as possible just to see him.”

Mingi didn't know what to think, two months had gone by since the two of you were seeing each other. Not explicitly romantic, he liked you, but he didn't want to move to fast. For the last two months it had been about enjoying each other's presence and going on dates; like, fuck, he rented his friend's dog for three weeks just to take you to a dog cafe.

But, it had been a week since the whole fiasco of your soon-to-be ex-husband ruined the perfect date, it was also the night Mingi begun to be suspicious of your intentions with him.

Sure, a detective that technically works for the state and a criminal that has lived all his life going against the state was a little bit... foreign to many.

But, Mingi works in mysterious ways, it's safe to assume his brain resets any emotions he may have for a person as soon as something suspicious happens.

Not to say that Mingi didn't have his guard up the whole time he's been around you, but it gives a little sting in his heart thinking that you tried to play him as if he were a fool, Mingi wanted to know why specifically, Wayne Haulting was in charge of your operation, there's some history to be unveiled.

Mingi suggested that you come to his mansion for a date this time, since the last date ended up being interupted by a bafoon.

"How was work?" Mingi asked, his eyes fixated on the road ahead, but his attention to you.

"Relatively alright," You chuckled, "A kid and her dad came to the station with fajitas to give a thanks. It was sweet, made my whole afternoon."

Mingi smiled, then gently crawled his hand over it take yours into his. He interlocked fingers with you then bought it up to give it a small kiss.

"What?" You giggled.

"Nothing," Mingi said, suddenly a bit stern, "I just missed you."

✨

Mingi pushed you onto the leather couch so your back was against the neck of it. You watched him get on top of you immediately with a big smirk on his face, reaching down to peck your lips softly at first, then brought his hand up to cup your jaw to deepen his kisses.

Your eyes were closed, enjoying what Mingi was providing and vice versa. The smell of his cologne lingered in the air, and it made it all the more enjoyable. Mingi pulled away for a second, looking at you with a smile, "You good, baby?"

A soft sigh left your lips, indicating your answer, one that made Mingi content. He began to unbutton your shirt, only so much to reveal your chest, but he continued to mould his lips against yours until his hand moved from your jaw to your neck, a gentle but authoritative grip around the flesh. You could feel the smirk on his lips.

Though you felt something told against the side of your jaw. Metal and cold.

A gun.

Your eyes flew open and you pulled back from the kiss. Mingi opened his eyes like everything was normal, a dangerous smile on his face.

"M-mingi? What the fuck?" You accidently stuttered, placing a hand on his wrist.

"Baby," Mingi chuckled venomously, "You have ten minutes to explain to me why Haulting is so calm about us hanging out," He pushed the gun further into your skin, making your breath stiff, "Unless you want a bullet through your head."

You frowned, "You'd kill a detective and think you're not gonna suffer the consequences?"

"My house in sound proof, detective," Mingi laughed, "And kind of up a hill decently away from people, it would take about three days until people find you... And a few hours and good lawyers are all I need to get rid of you."

You'd been doing your best to remain calm, the hand around your throat and the gun at your jaw making you tense heavily, but Mingi's words were terrifying you the most.

His gripped around your throat tightened when you didn't respond almost immediately, "I think you're forgetting who's got the gun here, baby," he said lowly.

"I– Yeah, Haulting hired me to get dirt off you," You finally admitted, not hearing Mingi's chest shattering in the process.

"Is he looking for anything in particular?"

"The fuck do you think?" You snapped, the grip you had around his wrist was a lot firmer now and your brows were furrowed in anger, "You're a fucking criminal, Mingi. You've killed innocent people, you've distributed illegal substances and firearms–"

"Killed innocent people?" Mingi laughed bitterly, "Did you get that outta' Haulting's ass? Where'd you hear that from?"

You looked at him in confusion, but also in anger, "The police report said–"

"You're little tree-shredded report is bullshit. My gang aren't involved in drug trade or the killing of innocent people," Mingi spat, his jaw clenched. Seeing you get more confused got him to let out a humourless laugh, rolling his eyes as he pulled down the hammer of the gun, the second last step neccasery before pulling the trigger. He watched you squirm, but tightened his hold on your throat before frowning at you, both your noses only five or so inches from each other, "You're getting on my nerves a bit, baby."

"I don't know what answer you're hoping for!" You fought, "Yes, Haulting hired me to hang around you like a dog as soon as I requested to move precincts after Ty cheated on me–"

"So that wasn't a lie?" Mingi asked, almost too surprised. That would mean the night at the bar was the first day you were undercover.

You shook your head frantically.

"Anything interesting you found, Detective?" Now he got to the point, gun and throat in hand, whatever you next answer was determined your vital status, "You better share now, or you might hurt a bit."

"Fuck! I literally just know your schedule! Thats literally it!" You yelled at the point, tears definitely threatening to spill, the helplessness was getting overwhelming, "I know your fucking favourite colour is dark blue, I know you'd eat chicken for the rest of your life if you could, that you used to visit the sauna twice a week though it only depended on your free time, but you don't go anymore because you spend that time with me!"

You saying that turned some gears in your head. There was a silence in the room, like Mingi didn't know how to respond and honestly, you hadn't noticed Mingi's behaviour until you finally said it out loud. Mingi looked at you like your confession didn't bother him, when deep down, it kind of did.

An airless and bitter laugh left your lips, your eyes looking at as if you'd figured something out, "There's something I didn't figure out, isn't there?" You smiled sarcastically. Mingi didn't give you an immediate response, you took that as an answer, scoffing, "Shit. You're actually in love with me, aren't you?"

"You think too far and you actually missed a few steps, Detective," Mingi had his jaw locked in place as his heart accidently started beating too.

You laughed, "Then what, Mingi? what'd I miss?"

A fabricated smirk painted its way onto Mingi's lips. The gun still at hand and on your jaw, the grip around your throat becoming somewhat comfortable and less threatening. Somewhat. The look in Mingi's eyes became more like when a teacher would look at a particularly dumb student. "Haulting never told you my dad was involved in his game of weapon trade, huh?"

You furrowed your brows, swallowing so hard that that you could feel the gun move against your jaw. You didn't know where in Mingi's eyes to stare into, but yours were searching for other places. You quickly responded, "I have a feeling you're gonna tell me.."

Mingi scoffed, a grin on his lips, "Haulting owed my dad money long before he passed. Haulting didn't want to use his own cash to buy weapons, so made a deal with my old man that if he supplied him, Haulting wouldn't touch his gang."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Your mind was literally screaming at you that Mingi's wrong. He's a criminal, you can't trust them. They're dirty creatures with blood oozing from the cuts in their skin from every time they've gotten away with the things they do. Mingi is a criminal, you can't trust him.

He continued: "These aren't the toys you play with, baby boy. These were high-tech, fancy ass guns we gave. Because of the deal, though, Haulting wasn't putting enough people away. Pop's owns half the city, that's almost a million crooks he's ignoring," Mingi spoke like he was a had thought about this for a long time. He knew what Haulting did, and only turned a blind eye for appeasement's sake. "So he turned on my old man, threw hundreds of his underdogs working on the streets away. He didn't realise how much he needed the weapons when he lost it, so he begged on his fucking hands and knees in front of my dad to get em' back."

"Mingi, wait–"

He hushed you, cutely but only in a way to humour himself, "Let me finish, doll." He loosened the grip around your neck, letting your breathe that little bit more properly, but resumed regardless, "My dad wasn't a bitch, he didn't take shit from anyone, especially from someone who double crossed him. He told Haulting to pay up the cash he's used. Wanna know how much?"

It was rhetorical, but part of you still wanted to know.

"Quarter of a billion dollars," Mingi answered, "So after my old man died and I came in, Haulting thought he didn't need to pay up. New man, no need. But the minute I became mobb leader, I told Haulting he needed to pay if he wanted to avoid getting killed."

This was all too much to comprehend. Mingi's speaking another language, but this behaviour he claims in coming from your boss seemed to foreign. You've known Haulting when he was a Sargent up until he became a chief. Not that you were close to him, and that was probably why, but you'd never expect such a thing from him.

"It's been two years, not a single cent. Haulting doesn't have three security guards around him for no reason, he knows he's in trouble," Mingi drew his gun away, you felt he metal off your jaw and the grip on your neck full gone. He got off of you too, but you're adrenaline was taking its time to subside, hence you didn't have the energy to move. "Haulting owes me money. So he's tryna frame anything on me to make sure he doesn't need to. I've never killed innocent people, I've never been involved in drug trade, I've always paid my taxes."

The last one made you both giggle a bit, you weren't sure how you could, knowing a gun was in your face not even a minute ago.

You looked at Mingi, "What do you want me to do with this information?"

Mingi put a hand in his pocket, the gun still in hand, but his body facing slightly sidewards. There was a finger that was still on the trigger, "Here's what's gonna happen," He started, carefully taking a seat on the coffee table, now facing you, no expression other than serious, "Whatever Haulting tells you to do, you report it to me. Whatever Haulting finds, you tell me. Whatever you're about to tell Haulting, you tell me first."

You scoffed, bitter venom from your words, "Suck my ass, Mingi. I don't even know if the shit you've said are true."

"I already did. You were moaning my name like a slut," Mingi barked back, glaring at you, "You'll do as I say or Haulting learns that I found out you're his little puppy, I don't think he'll be pleased."

He was right. Especially if he was right about before. Bad things happen when you know too much..

Mingi got up into his feet, then took a harsh grip of your chin do you looked up at him. A gasp left your lips, one that made Mingi smirk, "Do we have an agreement, Doll? This is business now."