#in the gif 8. are the doubles? they seem too low to me and I don't know

[starsxinxthexbluexsky]

WangXian: One Way Together

《In this world, everyone has their own things to do, their own paths to walk. Who cares about the crowded, broad road? I insist on walking down the single-plank bridge up to its dark end | Wei Wuxian, Episode 28》

《The feeling of walking on a single plank bridge til it's dark doesn't feel so bad | Lan Wangji, Episode 42》

[thiccpettybitch]

🕸 Bitter Sweet - Ch. 7 Miguel O’hara x F!Reader 🕸

Hey guys!

First off, thank you so much to everyone, for your lovely comments, support and vaguely loving yet threatening ask for when Ch. 7 will be out! Here it is baby! I hope you enjoy it! 🥰

I will be taking a small break when it comes to Bitter Sweet, just to finish a few chapters, as I like being ahead of the curve and have time making any changes, I find necessary. I also have a bunch of asks and request from you guys, that’s right! I have them and they are in the works as they fit in well with some of my WIPs.

*Sweats heavily as over 12 WIPS stare at me write another chapter for Bitter Sweet*

So do not worry, I will NOT abandon it I just have a few other projects to get out, with Bitter Sweet being more of a longer chapters, yet more… infrequent? Thing? I dunno, I say this and you might get five more chapters this week, (don’t quote me, I live by the grace of my unmedicated ADHD lol.)

Keep the requests coming in, keep commenting it LITERALLY makes my day! Love all the likes- oh and we hit 1000 LIKES?!?! Thank you so much! I love you guys and please enjoy this chapter! 🥰

At the bottom you will find a visual representation of Miguel under his mask! During the end of the story~ The art was done by the wonderful: @shuploc . If you haven’t already please check out their art, it’s amazing! Go leave them some kudos and enjoy their art!🥰

Part 8

As you made your way to school, music streaming through your earbuds, a cheerful tune filling your ears, the warm sun caressed the side of your face, bringing a smile to your lips. It had been a while since you felt this genuinely happy.

Feeling light-hearted and carefree, you practically skipped your way to school, replaying the events of the previous day in your head.

Gwen held on to your wrist, inspecting the braided bracelet. ‘’Did he tell you why he gave it to you?’’ she asked.

‘’Not… really? He just said it would be something for me to smile at,’’ you said shrugging.

As you both grabbed your books, getting ready to head to your separate classes, Gwen kept giving you these mysterious and knowing looks. Finally, unable to contain your curiosity, you turned to her with a raised eyebrow.

‘’Why are you looking at me like that?’’ you asked, confused.

Gwen shrugged, the books in her hands shifting, ‘’I dunno’, you just look… happy.’’ Rolling your eyes playfully, you bumped into her, and she responded with a nonchalant shrug. Eventually, it was time for the two of you to head to your respective classes – you to science and her to math.

You stepped into the science class, clutching your books against your chest. Your eyes scanned the room, and there he was – Miguel, sitting at a double desk, his head resting lazily on his hands as he cast a casual glance in your direction. Your heart skipped a beat for a moment as you debated where to sit.

The question nagged at you: Should you take the seat next to him? But then, you wondered if you might be too eager, and if he wanted some space, not to spend every class together. A frown crossed your face as you swiftly made a decision – the desk in front of him seemed like a safer choice, right next to... Reilly.

As you walked past Miguel's desk, out of nowhere, he nonchalantly kicked the stool next to him. The stool flew at you with surprising force, smacking you in the side. It didn't hurt, but the suddenness of it shocked you, causing you to nearly drop your books as you caught the chair to keep it from toppling over. Miguel glanced at you, his head still propped up on his hand, seemingly amused by the whole incident.

Placing your books on the desk, you settled into the chair, but not without catching the disapproving look your teacher shot your way. You quickly fixed your hair, trying to keep a low profile as you quietly hissed.

"Could have just asked me to sit next to you," you mumbled under your breath, feeling a bit flustered by the whole ordeal.

Miguel, ever the cool and collected one, just shrugged with a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "You're the one who decided to sit down. I didn't say anything~," he teased, clearly enjoying the moment.

Feeling a mix of annoyance and embarrassment, you turned your head to give him a sharp look. As you gathered your books, preparing to stand up and move elsewhere, Miguel acted swiftly. He grabbed hold of your chair and pulled it back, effectively keeping you in place. His smooth and effortless movement left you momentarily stunned.

Leaning in, Miguel's gaze remained fixed on the front of the class as he whispered playfully into your ear, "don't disrupt the class, tontita." Despite trying to ignore the shiver that went down your spine, you couldn't help but feel a bit rattled by his proximity.

As if sensing that something was amiss, Miguel continued in a hushed voice, "You feel alright? Your face is a bit red." The slight concern in his whisper made you bite down on your lip, trying to keep your composure in check.

"I'm... fine," you managed to respond, your voice wavering slightly as you felt him leaning in closer. His proximity was almost intimate, his lips teasingly brushing against your ear.

He tutted playfully, his voice dripping with warmth and affection. "Don't lie to me, amorcito. Clearly, something's got you feeling very nervous."

You nervously licked your lips, trying to avoid his intense gaze as you glanced out the window, trying to focus on anything but him, or the way he was eyeing you.

"Or is there another reason your heart is beating that fast, hmm?" he teased, his fingers gently resting against your wrist, the sensation made your eyebrows furrow, and you turned to look at him.

His voice turned hushed, and the Spanish words flowed effortlessly from his lips, sending shivers down your spine. "¿Te pongo nerviosa?’’ he asked, eyeing you curiously, ‘’¿Te gusta cuando hablo en español?" he asked, and you struggled to catch the meaning behind the words, too busy focusing on your breathing.

Turning your head to meet his gaze, you couldn't help but be mesmerized, your breath catching in your throat. His head tilted slightly, a small smirk gracing his lips as his eyes roamed over your face, lingering on your lips.

Then, he spoke again, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your knuckles. "If you wanted me to whisper sweet nothings to you in Spanish, all you had to do was ask, amorcito." The way he said it, the warmth in his voice, it made your cheeks flush, giving away your feelings.

Class seemed to fly by, and by the time the bell rang, you were almost as red as a tomato. Grabbing your books, you hurriedly left the room, trying to compose yourself.

The rest of the day was a blur as you attempted to focus on your other classes, though your mind kept drifting back to Miguel. As you made your way to your final class, your heart pounded in your chest. You flinched when you felt a hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you into the Spanish classroom.

Miguel was behind you, and even though he didn't make direct eye contact, a small smirk played on his lips. He led you to your usual table, but just as you were about to sit down, he playfully moved you to the side, letting you take the seat by the wall and the window.

Huh?

Maybe... this was a perk? You couldn't help but wonder if he was trying to show you how much he cared by being considerate. Now that you two were a bit closer, maybe he wanted to be nicer and show a sweeter side of him?

But, as you glanced down to the hand he had on your thigh, your thoughts quickly shifted. Sitting there, perfectly still, he made sure no one would notice, especially since you were on the inside of the table. That's why he gave you his seat, you realized.

The sneaky bastard!

He was hunched over, his head resting on his hand as he used his other hand to point at different Spanish words and prompt you to say them. Your thighs instinctively twitched, and you tried to discreetly close them, feeling a rush of embarrassment wash over you. You dared to glance up at his face, and he met your gaze with a small, almost innocent look – well, as close to innocent as Miguel could manage.

However, his hand on your thigh didn't move; it didn't trail or retreat. It just stayed there, driving you crazy. He wasn't blatantly groping you, but he wasn't keeping his hands to himself either. The internal struggle was real – your body ached for him to move, to touch you, and you found it hard to concentrate on the Spanish lesson. Your cheeks grew an even deeper shade of red.

Trying to maintain some composure, you cleared your throat and managed to continue with the lesson, but his proximity and the teasing touches kept you on edge. Every time his fingers lingered on your thigh, your heart raced, and your mind went blank. It was a mix of excitement and frustration, all happening while you were surrounded by other students and trying not to make a scene.

Despite your best efforts to focus on the Spanish words, your thoughts kept drifting back to Miguel and the tantalizing tension between you two. You silently prayed for the class to end soon, eager to escape the moment and get some fresh air.

"Why are you doing that?" you hissed, glancing up at him.

"Hm?~" Miguel hummed, sporting the same nonchalant and innocent look on his face.

Pfft, innocent my ass!

"Your hand, why... what are you doing?" you asked, feeling a bit awkward about bringing it up.

"You want me to move it?" he replied, his tone taking on a touch of seriousness, as if he wanted to assure you that all you had to do was tell him, and he'd comply.

Your cheeks flushed a darker shade of pink as you slowly shook your head. "I didn't say that... just... if you're not going to..."

"Well, you haven't asked me to do anything. Not yet, at least," he responded in a husky tone.

If your cheeks got any hotter, your head might just pop. Suddenly, he used his other hand to flick your forehead, and you blinked, looking at him with confusion.

"Enfoca esa cabecita tuya. Say that word for me," he said, pointing at the paper.

Despite the teasing and playful banter, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement mixed with nervousness. Miguel's presence had an undeniable effect on you, leaving you unsure of how to react to his teasing yet tempting advances.

The rest of the lesson followed a similar pattern. Miguel would point at words or sentences, and you'd do your best to repeat them in Spanish or explain their meaning in English. At this point, there was no denying that he knew the effect his Spanish had on you. His hand either lingered on top of yours or rested on your thigh, serving as a constant reminder of his presence beside you – a tall, broad, and undeniably handsome man fully invested in, well… you.

Glancing up, you caught him staring at you with a certain glint in his half-lidded eyes – a mix of mischief and alluring darkness. You couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking, but with the way his thumb softly stroked the inside of your thigh, you had an idea- or two.

The atmosphere was charged with a tantalizing tension, leaving you feeling both flustered and strangely exhilarated. Miguel's proximity and subtle touches had your heart racing, and you found it increasingly challenging to concentrate on the language lesson.

---

Walking away from your locker, your bag hanging off your shoulder, you stared straight ahead, your heart hammering inside your chest. He was walking behind you, a silent agreement that you were going to walk home together. There was something so mysteriously exiting about the fact that he didn’t join you at your side, but instead just walked behind you, close enough that you could smell his cologne.

Swallowing hard, you stole a glance back at him, and instantly, your cheeks flushed with heat. The way he looked at you was intense, his eyes devouring every part of you. You felt a tingle of nerves as his gaze traveled up to your hips and ass, his eyes half-lidded with an alluring smirk slowly forming on his face. You watched as his canine tooth teased with a slight peek, you found yourself momentarily entranced, and in that split second, your steps faltered, nearly causing you to trip. Swiftly recovering, you straightened up, forcing your gaze forward.

Finally, he caught up and walked beside you, emitting a small chuckle that made you feel a tad embarrassed. Just as you were about to break the silence, he surprised you by grabbing your backpack, effortlessly slinging it over his shoulder, and intertwining his fingers with yours. Your face turned bright red, and you were acutely aware that people passing by were stealing glances at you, which only intensified your blush.

---

As the train gradually slowed down, approaching your stop, he gently lifted your hand, planting a tender kiss against your knuckles. Handing you back your bag, he smiled at the way your eyes fluttered, nervously taken aback by the sweet gesture.

"Get your ass home, amorcito," he teased, and you found yourself simply nodding in response. As the train pulled away, you watched him smile slightly, and you let out a deep breath, slowly shaking your head in disbelief.

Making your way home your head was filled with one thing and one thing only; Miguel O’hara. His eyes, his hair, his skin, his face, his hands- oh god his hands… The way he smiled, the way his canine would stick out almost looking like a fang, his body, his voice-

The list went on and on, and your brain started slipping into more impure thoughts. You wondered what it would feel like to have his hand against your bare thigh, to watch his half-lidded and lustful eyes look at you, perhaps from a different angle – looking down at you, running his tongue over his lips and those inviting fangs, as he smirked. Imagining him looking down at you, head tilted to the side, with one hand in your hair as you--

"Y/n!" you heard your name being called out and turned around to see your aunt standing there, enthusiastically waving at you. You hadn't even realized you were already outside your home, but there she was, heading towards her car.

You watched as your aunt made her way into the car, a friendly smile on her face as she waved you over. Intrigued, you made your way over to her, "aunt May, where are you off to?"

"To the bank, sweetie. I need to get some paperwork done and sort out a loan," she replied, her expression showing a mix of determination and mild concern.

You furrowed your brows, wondering why she needed a loan. "Do we have money issues? I could get a job and help out if you need me to."

Her smile softened, and she shook her head. "Oh, no, dear. It's not that serious. They've just been taking their sweet time with your uncle's pension is all, and it's been a bit frustrating. But don't worry, we'll figure it out."

You opened the door, tossed your bag in the back, and joined her with a reassuring smile. She looked at you, pleasantly surprised, and asked, "You're coming with me?"

"Of course! I won't let any snooty banker mess with you," you replied, your smile mirroring hers, as she started the car.

---

As you sat there, observing the bank clerk giving you the most fake and greasy smile you'd ever seen in your life, you mentally sighed, feeling socially exhausted. This was definitely not how you had envisioned your afternoon, but you weren't going to leave your aunt to deal with this jerk by herself.

You watched as he flashed your aunt a sickeningly sweet, pearly white smile, appearing impeccably put together from head to toe. Despite his polished appearance, there was something about him that just rubbed you the wrong way. It was as if you could sense his true intentions beneath the facade as he pretended to help your aunt while suppressing whatever unkind thoughts he had. He tried to mask it with false sweetness, but his unpleasant nature was unmistakable.

"I am so sorry, ma'am, I fully understand what you are saying; however, there is nothing we can do here today, at least not from my end," he said, clasping his hands together on the desk.

"I see... well, where would we have to turn then? This is mortgage money we are talking about, a roof over our heads!" your aunt said, glancing at you with a mix of sadness and embarrassment. Had this situation been more significant than you realized? Perhaps she had been keeping you in the dark to spare you from worry. Your aunt and uncle had always wanted you to focus on your education rather than getting a job, which made sense, but if they needed help, they should have told you.

You looked up at your aunt, offering a sad yet reassuring smile.

"Well, that would be the line, right over there!" The clerk cheerfully pointed towards a line that seemed to stretch endlessly within the bank.

"We already stood in that line; we've been here for over two hours already. They directed us over to you," your aunt explained, clearly exhausted.

"Yes, well, that is the line you need to be in, so..." he replied, his unpleasant smile remaining on his face.

 "She just told you; they sent us over to you. We're not standing in a line for another two hours to be told we need to leave as it’s closing time," you said, your patience running thin. "So, help us, let us speak to someone that deals with pension stuff, specifically."

He eyed you, his smile faltering for a moment before he caught himself. Your aunt mumbled something about not being rude to him and flashed him an apologetic smile.

Ah, I caught that, dirtbag.

The clerk opened his mouth to say something, but you leaned forward, hands on the desk, staring up at him with intense eyes. "I get that this is your job, and you just want to get through the people behind us until the clock hits six and you can stamp out. But this is our home, our livelihood you're neglecting, so please. Help us."

You watched as the corner of his mouth twitched, his smile almost faltering again. "Listen here--- kid," he said, then flashed your aunt a smile, which made her eyes narrow. He leaned towards you, and you sensed his insincerity. "I'm telling you, I can't--"

Suddenly, he stared past you, a look of pure fear on his face before he quickly ducked down under his desk, leaving you and your aunt sitting there, blinking in confusion. Suddenly another desk came flying past the desk you were sitting at, and you and your aunt let out a scream, crouching down on the floor.

A man with four mechanical arms attached to his torso, laughed as his steel appendages pushed desks, chairs, and people out of his way. Your aunt crawled over to you and pushed you behind her, instructing you to keep low as she glanced around, and the bank clerk hid behind her as well.

‘’I'm here for the money, but I don't mind crushing a few of you, if  you tempt me," the man declared, turning around with an smile on his face.

A metal arm pointed towards you and your aunt as he spoke, "YOU! Open the vault!"

Both you and your aunt realized he was talking to the bank clerk behind you, the one shrinking back and shaking, holding onto your aunt's shoulder.

"I... I can't!" the clerk stammered, which seemed to send the man into a fit of rage.

The metallic arms slammed into the ground, pulling the man across it and towards the three of you. You watched in horror as one of the arms smacked into you, sending you flying to the side with a painful cry. Your aunt cried out for you, reaching for you but was pulled to the opposite side, being held down by one of the metal arms. You yelled for her as the man picked up the clerk by his arm, hoisting him above all of you and staring at him, teeth gritted together in a snarl.

"OPEN IT!"

"I CAN'T! I- I WOULD IF I COULD! I SWEAR!" the clerk cried out, but the man scoffed and flung him away, sending him towards a wall with deadly force. However, he was saved just in time as a web flew out and caught him, lowering him to the ground slowly.

"That's not very nice of you, Doc Ock. These fine people are just here to do their daily banking," a voice said.

You watched as Spider-Man dropped behind the villain, tilting his head to the side as he observed him. Doc Ock turned around, an evil smile on his face as his shades slid down his nose ever so slightly, taking in the sight of Spider-Man.

"Why don't we take this outside, buddy," Spider-Man said, his arms crossed over his chest nonchalantly.

"Oh, I don't know~ I'm here to make a withdrawal myself, and I do so hate standing in line," Doc Ock replied.

You watched as the metal arm tightened around your aunt, pulling her up from her feet and hoisting her over to him, above the floor. She cried out, and you panicked, eyes darting around in a haze, searching for anything to grab onto. Spider-Man tensed up, as if he was about to charge him, only to freeze as another arm flipped out a large sharp blade.

"Ah, ah~" Doc Ock tutted at him, "we wouldn't want to—"

His head shot forward, the metallic arm letting go of your aunt, allowing her to crawl away in fear as you swung the heavy metal lamp against the back of his head. Doc Ock swung around, a metal arm coming up and grabbing you by the throat, lifting you into the air, choking you. Your face went red as you spat at him, telling him to get his stinking hands off your aunt. He pulled you close to his face, a snarl on his face as he was about to say something.

Suddenly, he dropped you as a pair of legs flew into him, kicking him into the opposite wall. Dropping to your knees, your hand clutched at your neck as you let out a few dry coughs. You watched as Spider-Man landed back on his feet in front of you, a worrying hand held out towards you before he froze. As you looked up at his masked face, you saw him staring down at you, the eyes on his mask looking almost wide, as if he recognized you.

Did he recognize you from when he saved you before?

Suddenly, your head whipped around as a piece of the wall that had been broken off on his impact came flying towards you. You barely had time to close your eyes when Spider-Man caught it, without even looking away from you, his masked face glued to you. He dropped the piece of broken-off wall at your feet, blinking to regain himself. He looked at Doc Ock and then back at you. Grabbing the front of your shirt, he pulled you safely behind a desk and leaned close, his eyes turned into slits as if he was glaring at you.

‘’DO. NOT. MOVE.’’ He said, making it sound more like a warning than a request.

You watched, glancing past the desk as he moved forward. His fists clenched tightly, then abruptly released, fingers arching as the tip of them extended in to sharp talons. You sat there, mesmerized, as he effortlessly leaped into action, crashing into Doc Ock and sending him hurtling towards the wall. The impact shook the room, and the battle commenced with an electrifying intensity.

Your aunt crawled over to you, her hands on your shoulders, inspecting you with fear in her eyes. She rested a hand on your cheek, and you responded by placing your hand over hers, flashing a small smile. Together, the two of you watched the intense battle unfold, with metal arms flailing and grabbing onto anything they could to toss at Spiderman.

People started rushing out of the bank in a frantic frenzy, the blaring sirens adding to the chaos outside. Amidst the panic, your aunt tightly grabbed hold of your hand, urgently guiding you towards the exit. However, in the rush, you stumbled and fell to your knees, a sharp hiss escaping your lips from the pain.

Despite the discomfort, your aunt didn't relent, pulling you up as she continued towards the door. Unfortunately, a mass of people suddenly converged, bumping into the both of you, causing you to lose your balance and fall to the ground again. Struggling to keep up, you called out for your aunt amidst the commotion as people unknowingly trampled and tripped over you.

Finally, a security guard noticed your aunt's distress and quickly rushed to her aid. He helped her back up on her feet and then guided her towards the exit, leaving you behind for a moment. As you glanced up, your aunt's worried face appeared through the crowd, her arms outstretched, urging you to join her. However, before you could reach her, the tide of people pulled her away and outside.

You swiftly gathered yourself, managing to regain your footing amid the chaotic scene. Pushing aside a man who nearly trampled you, you rushed over to a nearby pillar, using it as cover while you surveyed the room. The situation inside the building was becoming even more dangerous, as canisters were shot inside the building and scattered across the floor. One of these canisters landed dangerously close to you, and you found yourself frozen in shock, unable to move.

In an instant, the canister burst open, releasing a thick cloud of smoke that quickly filled the room. Despite the haze and disorientation, you remained focused on finding an escape route. Your eyes darted around, searching for any possible way out of the suffocating situation.

You caught a glimpse of a small window to your right, determination took over, and you sprinted towards it, desperate to find fresh air. However, in your haste, you accidentally collided with a woman, sending her stumbling backward. You quickly reached out a hand to help her up. She took your hand with a shaky 'thank you,' and without a moment's hesitation, the two of you ran towards the window together.

But before you could react; the woman was pushed down to the floor, and you found yourself pinned against the wall, a metal arm pressing down on your throat, making it hard to breathe. You watched as Dr. Octavius, emerged through the smoke, his metal arms moved with eerie grace, skimming the floor as they carried him forward.

"You!" His snarl echoed through the chaos as one of the menacing metal arms lunged towards your face, giving the impression of a malevolent creature eager to sink its jaws into you. A mix of fear and adrenaline surged through your veins, prompting you to grab hold of the arm in a desperate attempt to defend yourself. However, your resistance proved futile as Dr. Octopus effortlessly lifted you off the ground, his iron grip constricting your throat and robbing you of precious air. Gasping for breath, you struggled to break free, the room spinning around you as the grip tightened, leaving you feeling helpless.

Another one of Dr. Octopus's menacing metal arms shot out, catching Spiderman by surprise as he attempted to lunge at him from behind. The villainous doctor swiftly seized Spiderman by the ribs and slammed him into the wall right beside you. A pained grunt escaped Spiderman as he collided with the unforgiving surface, leaving him momentarily stunned.

As Spiderman looked up, his eyes met yours, and he froze at the sight of you pressed up against the wall, a sharp claw held menacingly at your throat. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes, the terror of the situation overwhelming you.

The eyes on Spiderman's masked face shot up in shock, but he wasted no time. With a growl of determination, he slammed his hand above your head, his talons digging into the wall to anchor himself in place. Despite Dr. Octopus's attempts to pry him away, Spiderman held his ground, using his other hand to grasp the claw around your neck, attempting to pry it open.

The claw emitted whirring sounds and sparks flew, as if it were a living creature in pain, but Spiderman persisted. With a forceful motion, he ripped the claw away from your throat and pushed forward, delivering a swift kick to Dr. Octopus's face. The impact sent the villain stumbling backward, his metal arms releasing Spiderman to support their master instead.

Spiderman sprang into action, showing remarkable strength as he swiftly grabbed both you and the woman on the ground under his arms, carrying you both like bags of potatoes. With incredible agility, he dashed toward the window, leaping out with ease despite the added weight of carrying two people in each arm. In a split second, he released the woman, tossing her safely towards a group of cops who awkwardly caught her.

Turning his attention to you, Spiderman was about to set you down, but his instincts kicked in just in time. He jerked his head up and shot you into the air, catching you on his back and webbing onto a nearby building. Just as he did, two clawed metal arms came flying toward him, digging into the ground where he had been standing moments ago.

"I know you're not a fan of heights, but I don't really have much of a choice, I'm afraid," Spiderman quipped as he firmly dug his claws into the building's wall, scaling it with impressive speed.

You clung tightly to his back, your legs wrapped around his hips and your hands gripping his shoulders. As he mumbled a quiet "hold on tight," you glanced back and found your hand instinctively digging into his shoulders, a small whimper escaping your lips.

Spiderman looked back at you and then glanced down at what caught your attention. There was Dr. Octopus, scaling the building behind you, his metal arms slamming into the surface and propelling him upward.

"Man... this guy just DOESN'T. GIVE. UP!" Spiderman muttered, emphasizing each word. As he continued climbing, he carefully moved you from his back to his front, ensuring you were safely pressed against him.

"We gotta stop meeting like this," he joked, then webbed onto a part of the building. Using his legs and arm, he kicked himself and you higher up the building, one hand securely holding your back to keep you close and safe.

"I... I didn't think you'd remember me!" you joked back, glancing down to find that Dr. Octopus was no longer following you. A slight worry creased your brow as you anxiously looked around.

Spiderman's head perked up, and for a moment, he stopped and locked eyes with you. "You kidding me?" he asked, glancing down to scan the area. "Who'd forget a face as pretty as yours?" he said with a playful smirk behind the mask, trying to lighten the tense situation.

The building shook, causing you to hold onto him tighter, fear gripping you as you looked up at him. Just as he leaned in, seemingly about to say something, you noticed a danger above. Your eyes shot up in panic, and you urgently warned him to watch out.

Reacting swiftly, Spiderman grabbed your hips, pulling you off him and tossing you into the air, like a cheerleader doing a basket toss. You cried out in surprise as you landed on a part of the building with a large ledge, barely able to regain your footing before witnessing one of Dr. Octopus's metal arms slamming into Spiderman, pushing him against the building and then pulling him away roughly.

"No!" you screamed, reaching out for him.

"I will be right back, promise! Don't—uh, MOVE!" he managed to get out before being pulled away from you and the ledge you sat on.

You were now perched precariously on the ledge, your back pressed against it, aware that any wrong move could send you tumbling to the pavement below. Your head spun from the height as you watched Spiderman engaging in a fierce battle with Dr. Octopus.

Amid the struggle, Doc Ock caught Spiderman and looked between the two of you before turning his head to Spiderman with a twisted smirk. "Didn't you get the memo?" he taunted, pulling Spiderman close to his face. "It's not take your girlfriend to work day!" With a forceful move, he raised Spiderman into the air and threw him into another building, sending him crashing through a window.

Fear engulfed you as Dr. Octopus turned his attention towards you. Panicking, you reached for anything around you, trying not to move too much. His metal arms pushed him off the building he was on, and he quickly approached you. His claws dug into the walls next to you, making you flinch and nearly slip off the ledge. One of the arms wrapped around your midsection, preventing you from falling but leaving you hanging over the edge of the building.

Spiderman swiftly landed on the roof in front of you and Dr. Octopus, his head moving between the two of you frantically before stopping at Doc ock.

‘’Doc… don’t. There’s no need to hurt anyone else!’’ He said, his hand held up in surrender.

You couldn't help but whimper as Dr. Octopus pulled you closer to his face, while Spiderman flinched, as if wanting to intervene but restraining himself. "Well, my dear, what is so special about you, hm~?" Dr. Octopus inquired, tilting you slightly to get a better look at your face. Your gaze darted between him and Spiderman, a mix of confusion and terror etched across your features.

‘’Nothing is! It’s just kind of in the job description to save all citizens.’’ Spiderman defended, adding a sheepish, ‘’Sorry kid, no offense!’’ Despite his attempt at humor, you cried out, feeling the pain intensify as Dr. Octopus's arm tightened around your ribs.

"NO! STOP!" Spiderman's voice rang out, a potent mix of anger and fear in his tone.

Threateningly, Dr. Octopus warned, "Lie to me again, and I'll crush her spine." He shifted you to a more visible position, causing the arm to tighten further, and you let out a whimpering gasp.

"OKAY! Okay, just-!" Spiderman growled, his clawed fist clenching tightly as he looked up at Dr. Octopus. "She... she's special! Okay?" Dr. Octopus seemed intrigued, and the arm holding onto you moved back slightly, loosening its grip, allowing you to breathe again. "How?" he asked, eyes focusing on you.

"JUST LET HER GO!" Spiderman roared, making you flinch.

Dr. Octopus turned to look at him, a sickening smirk on his face as he casually shrugged. "You got it, Spidey," he replied nonchalantly. In an instant, you felt the arm release you, and you began to fall, hurtling towards certain death below.

"NO!!!" Spiderman's desperate cry pierced the air as you fell. Time seemed to slow as you made eye contact with him, his masked eyes wide with fear and shock. You reached out for him, your hand trying to bridge the distance as your hair obscured your vision.

Reality hit, and you realized you were falling to your death.

________________________________________________________________

Find the translations on my AO3 page!

(A visual representation of Miguel under his mask! Once again thank you to the wonderful and talanted @shuploc​ . Please make sure you check out their art, it’s amazing!)

[darkhighness]

Good Omentober Day 8 - Give Me Coffee Or Give Me Death

Prompt by @disaster-dog

Crowley finds a new hobby and finds out 'what the youth are up to these days'. That being said, Crowley has a particularly hard day and Aziraphale helps him avoid choice paralysis.

They’d fallen into some weird rhythm in the past few months. At some point, every Tuesday Crowley would make the perilous trek down the street to the coffee shop and slink behind the counter prepared to make some coffee.

Months ago, Nina had been in a bit of a mood and insisted that if he wanted his usual six shots he could come behind the counter and do it himself.

The demon found something therapeutic about pulling each espresso shot and the repetitive motion just resonated well in his brain. The scent of coffee was almost enough to stave off the worst of his hangovers but really there was some part of him that enjoyed the ambience, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

Nina could never put him on any kind of schedule but she knew every Tuesday at some point a black-clothed tall demon would come and help relieve some of the pressure of the work day.

Crowley already had a few favourite customers. There were two writers who came through and always ordered the same two shots, who also taught him what body doubling is.

Another patron, an older man would show him pictures of his garden every time he came in, telling Crowley all about his grafting attempts and offering to bring him some cuttings if he was ever inclined.

There was also a group of three young alternative customers who would order various frappes and drinks to match whatever mood they were in. Crowley was always intrigued by their clothes and the way they referred to each other. Slowly but surely, they were teaching Crowley what different genders and sexualities meant to different people.

It was hardly a demon train of thought but it was intriguing. He was trying to work out who he was with Heaven or Hell and there was something comfortable about people who were willing to change on a whim.

On this Tuesday, Crowley very nearly didn’t come. He had been lying in bed, paralysed by the thoughts of what he could be doing but it all seemed like too much today. Aziraphale had already left to tend to the bookshop and he was just curled up in a blanket next staring blankly out the window.

His phone was buzzing beside him, the screen lighting up with Nina’s name on the caller ID. A few times he considered reaching over and telling her to fuck off but the other part of him knew she was too valuable a friend to lose. Not only to him, but to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale had closed the shop for lunch and Crowley heard his footsteps creeping up the stairs.

“Crowley, dear? I haven’t seen you come down,” the Angel called, slowly pushing the door open. He saw Crowley laying in bed and he let out a low longing sigh before sitting beside him.

Crowley shifted at the added weight on the bed and curled into Aziraphale, his head resting against the angel's chest. His copper coloured curls fell to cover his face and blankets he’d been hiding in had slipped down to reveal his bare chest.

“Today is a bit too much, is it?” Aziraphale asked softly, brushing the hair from his partner's face. He heard Crowley let out a small squeak in almost agreement and he moved closer to absorb the angel’s warmth.

Aziraphale saw Crowley’s phone buzzing and reached over. “It’s Nina, my dear. Would you like me to tell her you’re not well?” He offered, prepared to pick up the call.

Crowley shook his head and let out a low cry, “I want to go. I should go. But I can’t,” he just held Aziraphale, slowly growing frustrated that he was being so pathetic.

“I have an idea,” Aziraphale assured. He waved his hand and suddenly on the end of the bed was a pile of folded clothes, a black button down with a tailored jacket and a fresh pair of tight black jeans, “I don’t know if it’s what you would’ve chosen but maybe if you don’t have to make all the decisions…”

Crowley let out another soft cry, but not in pain or anguish just in some kind of relief, “Oh Angel,” he breathed, a small smile finally creeping onto his face. He wasn’t one to change clothes the human way but just having the Angel take a little bit off his plate felt like a small beacon.

He changed into the outfit as Aziraphale left the room and he walked into the kitchen where Aziraphale had made a plate of pancakes for him. The Angel was sitting there with flour all over the counter but he was so proud of his little plate of joy.

“Oh thank you, Angel.” Crowley smiled before sitting down to eat, “You wouldn't mind if I ended up going to the café after this? I know I haven’t been great company…”

Aziraphale just planted a kiss on the top of the demon's head before giving a smile, “I wouldn’t mind at all. I know no one can make coffee like you.”

The Angel got to work scrubbing down the kitchen before he ate his own food.

Crowley, still a little hesitant to start the day but thankful Aziraphale had helped him get started, walked over to the coffee shop. Nina looked relieved to see him and the line was almost out the door. Apparently, there was a market in the next street over and people were looking for a place to get a drink.

Crowley didn’t even say hello to anyone before he started to make the orders as Nina called them out to him. He let the muscle memory take over and they managed to get the line down, just in time for the young group to come in.

“Crowley! Nina said she didn’t think you would be around when we came in earlier,” The youngest fem-presenting one rushed.

“Sage, it’s good to see you. It’s just been a hell of a morning.” Crowley murmured, pulling the next espresso shot. He reached over and started to steam some of the milk when the second teen who, as Crowley learned, was a ‘cottage core lesbian’ called Gloria slid something on the counter.

“For you,” Gloria beamed and as she moved her hand she revealed a small multi-coloured flag pin, “We saw it at the market and thought of you.”

As Crowley finished the last of the drinks he picked up the pin and fiddled with it in his hands. He ran his fingers along the soft enamel surface, “Oh, thank you. I haven’t seen this one before-“ he admitted.

“It’s the genderfluid flag!” The third and final teen gushed. ZJ, Crowley remembered their name was. “You don’t have to wear it, but we remembered what you said last week about liking the choice of who you are…”

Crowley smiled slightly, genuinely touched by the gesture. It was stupid, he thought, for a demon to be caught up in human labels and identity politics but it felt like there were other people like him. He took the pin back off and pressed the spike into the fabric of his jacket’s lapel.

Nina looked over at him at this exchange and gave him a smile, “Hey Mr. Six-Shot, it’s died down a bit so why don’t you take a break and chat to your friends?”

Crowley made his usual six shots before slinking into the chair with his new, somewhat unlikely friends. They told him about everything they saw at the market ranging from desserts to tarot readings. Crowley was hardly invested in the affair but was glad to have people to talk to. It reminded him of why he loved humanity so much in the first place.

‘Wait until they meet Aziraphale’, Crowley thought and a large smile graced his face. It felt like he finally had a place to belong, even if it was just this small street in Soho.

[madameminor]

In More Ways Than One, Part 5.5 - Bad Batch x F!Reader - Bait

Summary: Wrecker isn't known as the smart one. But he sure knows how to drop some wisdom.

Warnings: Aren't really any, this is a very tame chapter. I'll rate it T for teen.

Notes: Here's a snack to hold y'all over, full of show quotes. I'm really letting this next one simmer, and I think I found something I'm really excited to write. Thanks again to everyone joining in, liking and reblogging. It always puts a smile on my face. 💜

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 4 Part 4.5 Part 5 Part 5.5 Part 6 Part 6.5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 8.5 Part 9 Part 9.5 Part 10

Hunter, Tech and Wrecker snuck down the rest of the hill by the Separatist base, using the trees and plant life as coverage before landing behind a (conveniently placed) low rock outcropping. From the vantage point, they could see the squad of droids guarding the entrance to their loading dock. Well, until they all started moving inside double time and closing the massive doors behind them.

Looks like your little diversion was working.

Hunter motioned to Tech, who nodded and snuck the 20 yards to the small entry next to the bay doors. Hunter looked toward the front of the base, waiting for your signal.

Wrecker pounded the rock in frustration. “OOOoooOOOh. Where is she?”

Hunter kept looking through his scopes. “Relax, Wrecker. She’s done things like this before.”

Wrecker slumped down onto the rock, resting his helmet in one hand while tapping his foot. “I know, I’m just… more worried now that, you know, we've all been with her. Well, uh, most of us.”

Wrecker looked over at Hunter, seeming for all the world to forget about where they were. “Hey sarge, you knew about this 'arrangement' the whole time, right? So why haven’t you two kriffed yet?”

Hunter smirked under his helmet. Wrecker, true to form. "You want to talk about this now?"

"Yeah, why not?"

Couldn't argue with that. “Wanted her to get to all of you first. Besides, I think she’s enjoying baiting me.” Speaking of bait... where were you?

“She hasn’t made a move on you?”

"I told her I’d come to her when I wanted to.” Well, not exactly, but the indication was there. And you were definitely advertising your desire, just not seeking it. You understood.

“You haven't wanted to?! Sarge, are you nuts?”

Hunter shook his head, pulling back from his scopes but still looking in the direction of the front of the base . “I’m waiting for the right moment.” When he could hear nothing but you, smell, feel, taste nothing but you.

"When’s that gonna be?"

"I don’t know."

"Huh, I think I get that.” Wrecker leaned his elbows on the rock outcropping. “I wanted to take her out for a picnic or something nice, but it’s not like we get many chances, you know? And I would never have thought that Crosshair being around would come in handy. Who’da thought of THAT?”

Hunter looked over at his brother.

“So I’m glad she didn’t let me wait, I don’t think it would have been as good if I planned it. And she seemed to like when there were two of us, one watchin’ and one workin’."

“Did she now?” Hunter's eyebrows rose, a smolder rising in his belly at the revelation.

"Heheh, YEAH. At least, that’s what crosshair said. She got real sensitive and squirmy. It was HOT."

“Hmm.” Maybe he was trying to control it too much, trying to make it perfect. Why waste all of that energy on things he couldn't control? What could he control?

You.

Hmph. Interesting idea.

"Thanks Wrecker," Hunter smirked.

“For what?”

Hunter’s comm sounded- it was Crosshair.

“She’s headed back. Your move.”

Hunter looked through his scopes – there you were, running from cover to cover, a mass of clankers following you. Good to be bait when you’re not a clone- keeps their guard down.

Hunter stood straight, pocketing his scopes. Back to business. “Wrecker, that’s us." The big man jumped into action as Hunter pressed his comm link. "Tech, are you ready over there?”

Tech's irritated tone came in loud and clear. “I assume that’s a rhetorical question.”

Hunter ignored him. "Alright boys, let’s get to work. Can’t let the medic do everything around here."

Wrecker pumped his fist in the air as he followed Hunter towards the base. “Lets blow something up! YEAH!”

What up, tag list?!

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[thehitchhikerguide]

Season 2, Episode 6: Videodate

Let me start out by saying this is one of the best episodes I've seen so far. The sleeze, the revenge plot, crazy 80's visuals...all perfect for a Hitchhiker episode.

The famous guest star this week is Shannon Tweed, known for being in some not-so-recognizable movies and also for being Gene Simmon's wife. I know her from Hot Dog...The Movie, which I guess is a must see for anyone who has ever been a skier or just likes a lot of full-frontal in their movies. The main male character is played by Gregg Henry, who looks to have a decent acting career, but I didn't recognize him. I thought he maybe looked like a low rent James Woods.

We start out with a woman who has very 80's hair watching a video dating service tape of a guy who is making it out to be his first time doing something like this. She is charmed by his vulnerability.

You can see by her joker-like smile, he has sealed the deal. He takes her out to an art exhibit and I have to say this is something I would love to go to even now. There is an area where you can smash a TV:

I mean, that is a really fun date!

Then we see the exhibit of a hot new artist named Monique. Wait, what? It's always weird when I hear other characters on TV with my name, since I don't hear it too often. I guess with a Canadian show, it was just a matter of time.

This is an art exhibit I would love to go to. People with TV heads that play some sort of strange video. It's creepy and disturbing and I'm all in for it.

This one represents the woman TV head's fantasy of running off with another man (shown on the TV). Of course our male character decides to man-splain to his date and also mention that he knows the artist. She seems to be watching this conversation behind him, unamused.

At least I think that is the artist...right? I guess they don't say but it seemed obvious at this point.

By now, the date is going really well.

Well that was a cool art exhibit so I kind of get it, even though he looks like a creep whose hair is just hanging on for dear life. She seems pretty vulnerable and mentions to him that she doesn't want this to be a one night stand. He tells her what she wants to hear...

...then immediately rushes her into a cab. After she is gone, we find out that wasn't even his apartment! He has been paying his friend who is a doorman to use people's apartments for these sleezy videodates.

As he drive away, we see something we haven't seen in awhile.

Oh yeah I almost forgot, there was also this weird image and some video game noise. Not sure what this is, his car is in a video game now?

Haha, as usual, perfect butt is on display. Man, he looks like he could double for George Michael in this shot. Anyways, we see the main character interacting with the Hitchhiker. He refuses to give him a ride.

Also, we are over 8 minutes into the episode before he shows up! We learn that this main dude is named Jack Rhodes. He has a lot of disguises and thinks he is the master of the illusion. But Jack is not the only one with tricks up his sleeve. Yes! Comeuppance! Comeuppance!

So this guy Jack is actually a salesman at an electronics store. He likes to brag to his coworkers about these conquests.

Co-workers Joey McIntyre and Wallace Shawn are not impressed.

We see the female video artist at the store as he is making a sale using his dynamic personality. She is still observing his behavior with disgust. When he gets home he notices a package at his door.

Wait a minute, am I watching Lost Highway now?

We get a good look at his apartment and his "last known photo" board and notice something a little weird.

Nice, huh? But what I'm not showing is that he has a section on this board labeled "foxes" and there are no photos under there.

He settles in to watch the mysterious tape.

Oh no, why does it look like Videodrome now? How many movies are in this?

Honestly I would be crapping my pants right now.

I mean I know it's a hot babe, but this video is still very disturbing.

Anyways, it's Monique, the artist in her underwear. She is saying her name is Barbara and that she wants to go on a date with Jack. Does he think this is from the video dating service, because I wouldn't think they just plop unmarked tapes in front of his door. I thought you had to go to a place to watch the tapes. Well despite this, she's a fox and we've established he's never been with a fox so he is up for anything.

Hmm, now it looks like Blue Velvet. I should probably stop obsessing over these movie references.

Their first date is playing video games. He plays a round and then she sets out to beat his score. She is the original gamer girl! Maybe she WAS creating a videogame from videotaping his car.

I immediately recognize the video game sounds to be from the game Centipede, however the game they show is shooting the letter E for some reason.

Maybe it's also an eye test, who knows. Defeat Enron!

She cuts the date off with the promise that they will see each other again. She invites him to her place for dinner. The building looks run down and this elevator...

I know, but now it looks like we are in an Adrian Lyne movie! Okay I'll stop.

She's cooking him dinner and he is being a total gentleman.

It's not a Hitchhiker episode without someone leering.

Monique changes in a dominatrix-type outfit under her clothes. They have dinner and retire to the bedroom. Jack immediately lets Monique tie him to the bed.

She reveals her sexy outfit and asks if he wants to play a game called Blastoff. I mean, it sounds pretty sexy right? Sounds like code for something else?

She puts on this neon metronome and says he has 1 minute to free himself or he will blastoff. Pretty cryptic.

This thing keeps booping faster and faster as Monique explains that she knows how he treats other women. Jack is upset and sounds like he wants to kill her, demanding she free him. The metronome goes even faster and then...

...his genitals explode? It looks like he dies in ball of flames. Wow what an ending!

Oh wait there's more.

I guess she had been filming this whole thing for her newest art installation. The people watching the exhibit seem confused, maybe they've never seen an episode of The Hitchhiker before.

There is an announcement showing the artist Monique is there and we get this big reveal.

It's Barbara! I mean, I knew she was the artist all along, were we only supposed to get that now?

Anyways, The Hitchhiker is leaving the art museum telling us that Jack Rhodes used the state of the art in video to get what he wanted (really, VCRs state of the art?) but when he had to do it for the sake of art , he went to pieces. Haha! Good one Page! An actual joke! I think he's enjoying Jack's suffering a little more than he should.

Let that be a lesson to everyone...pick up hitchhikers.

As I said before, this was a great episode that had it all, even the confusing ending. I mean, what actually happened to Jack and how did he explode like that? It's episodes like this that keeps me coming back for more, so until next time, be nice to people named Monique!

[pedrito-friskito]

✨kay’s ultimate pedro ranking✨

ok ok ok ok @mandosmistress did this a while back (like a few days lmao what is time) and tagged me and I HAVE BEEN T H I N K I N G let me tell you.

so without further ado, under the cut is my (not so definitive) pedro pascal character ranking…..! (based mainly on attraction/how much I enjoy writing them)

FRANKIE MORALES. frankie. frankie frankie frankie. my man. sunshine of my life (haha see what I did there). there is just something about this character that really crawled into my chest, wrapped himself around my heart and said ”hi I live here now” and I’m cool with it. handsome in that rugged way, a little bit damaged, and good with his hands? done. hook, line, and sinker.

DIN DJARIN. oh the sweet soft-spoken tin can space man. in all honesty, him and Frankie fight for the top spot on a daily basis and sometimes the beskar-covered bounty hunter wins, and he truly was my pedro gateway drug so he’s gotta be high on my list.

JAVIER PEÑA. ohhhhhh mama I love me some Javi. (do I mainly blame my gargantuan crush on @the-ginger-hedge-witch and her brilliant Crush series YES AS A MATTER OF FACT I DO) something about those tight fuckin’ jeans and the stache and the aviators like yep honey take me I’m yours

JAVIER GUTIERREZ. sunshine baby angel too good for this world I just wanna give him a little kiss and carry him around in my pocket and make sure no harm every comes to him (no I haven’t written anything for him yet but I been thinkin’ thots okay)

DIETER BRAVO. ✨the trash man✨ another one I just wanna carry around in my pocket, also the hair does things for me (same with Javi G) like just let me run my fingers through it and I’ll die a happy gal. questionable life choices maybe, but we’ve all been there, right?

OBERYN MARTELL. oh my HEART. *cue adele* we could have had it AAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLL. I would say spoilers but it was legitimately 8 years ago but he was so CLOSE and then so SQUISHED. tbh oberyn is the most intimidating to me to even think of writing but maybe someday….

MARCUS PIKE. I do really like Marcus. cheesy as hell? check. bit overboard sometimes? double check. BUT I really like the history of the character we got in limited scenes AND I have a fic idea for him I’ve been sitting on FOREVER and I def have to use it soon!

PERO TOVAR. okay I love me a grungy fantasy man okay like that’s my bread and butter. add in the grouchiness and the obvious way to his heart through his stomach? it’s go time, baby, I got plans for him too!

JACK DANIELS. oh darlin’, he hits the middle of my list for the sole reason that pedro and that whip awoken something in me that hasn’t shut up since I watched that movie and if you don’t think I’ve watched that clip where he pushes his jacket back and it’s a crystal-clear shot of his ass you are WRONG

EZRA PROSPECT. fits the grungy, violent thing pedro seems to work with half the time, and honestly, the linguistics of this man make my head spin (the main reason I haven’t written much for him because it’s a looooot of effort to try and think up dialogue for him!!!) BUT I do love that little moon-touched spot and the scar and the smile and just ugh yum

THE THIEF. full disclosure: I haven’t read a lot of fics about the thief (if anyone has recs let me at ‘em) buuuuuut I really like the whole vibe he has and the outfit? spectacular.

MARCUS MORENO. the glasses definitely do it for me but idk something about him I just…meh. have definitely read some fab fics about daddy moreno (maybe I’ll revisit him at some point). still hot, still delicious, just not my number one fav.

MAX PHILLIPS. maybe not the biggest asshole pedro’s played but definitely up there? I sat through the movie just for him, honestly the scene of him on the couch made it worth it and the smarminess is something else, but idk if I could ever write him! (kudos to all that do!)

DAVE YORK. ok ok ok ok OKAYYYYYYY. listen. he’s the baddie (and like a really bad baddie) so I gotta put him low on my list as far as attraction goes (plus I have mixed emotions about P without facial hair but I digress…) BUT I do have ideas. they are on the horizon. keep your eyes OPEN.

MAX LORD. I haven’t even watched wonder woman 1984 and I know he needs to be down here. maybe I’ll get some form of intoxicated this weekend and power through it, just for shits and giggles!

well KUDOS if you made it this far, this was actually so fun to do!

tagging a few pals just because, no pressure 😇

@prolix-yuy @pedropascalsx @mandoblowmybackout @mindidjarin @allfoolsinluv @iamskyereads and obvi anyone else who wants to play!!!

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Not My World

Febuwhump 2022: #8. No Anesthesia

Fandom: Marvel, Frank Castle, The Punisher

Word Count: 2439

TW: Bullet Wound, Operation with no Anesthesia, Blood, Pain

Thank you to @babblydrabbly for beta reading for me!

@febuwhump, @loverhymeswith

Tonight had been your third double shift in less than a week and you were exhausted. But as the violence and mayhem continued to rise in the city, all the hospitals were becoming more and more overrun with those in need of help. So, you tried not to complain too much, instead choosing to focus on keeping your head down and concentrating on the work at hand. But it was becoming more and more difficult over the last few days.

Sighing tiredly, you poured the pouch of dehydrated cheese into your noodles and stirred it up, carrying the entire pan over to the table as you decided against a bowl. Picking at it unenthusiastically with your fork, you wondered if there was anything interesting on tv at this time of night.

Suddenly, there was a loud pounding at your front door. You glanced at the clock on your microwave. 3:46 am. There was only one person that could be. Without leaving your seat at the table, you yelled, “Castle? Is that you?”

“Yeah.” Came a grunt in response. “Let me in.”

“No. I told you, we’re not doing this anymore. Go bother someone else for a change.”

“You know I don’t have anyone else. Just open the damn door already.”

With an exasperated groan, you stood up and walked to the door. After taking a deep breath, you cracked it slightly so you could just see a sliver of the vigilante waiting on the other side. His hood was pulled low over his face and he was favoring his right side. “Frank, we’ve been over this. I’m done. You need to stop coming here and expecting me to patch you up like nothing’s changed.”

“I know. I wouldn’t be here unless it was an emergency. But I need you.” He growled through gritted teeth.

You rolled your eyes and started to protest but he shifted as he leaned heavily against your door, pushing it open a little further and allowing you to catch a glimpse of the wound in question. “Oh my god! Why didn’t you say it was this bad?”

Taking a step out into the hall, you pushed his jacket aside as you peeled his sticky, wet shirt from his stomach and gasped. Not only were there two bullet holes still actively gushing blood but the rest of his torso was badly bruised. Pulling down his hood, you saw his face was covered in blood and his nose looked like it had been broken. Again.

“I told ya, I wouldn’t be here unless it was an emergency.” For the first time, you noticed the sheen of sweat across his forehead and the tightness in his jaw. He must be in excruciating pain to drag his sorry ass back to you for help.

Scrubbing your hand over your face, you pushed your door open all the way. “Get in here before someone sees you. But I swear this is the last time.”

He chuckled quietly as he slumped into your apartment. Quickly, you shut the door behind him, but not before noticing the pool of blood in the hall where he had been moments before. Turning back to him, you shook your head. “You know, I don’t understand how you’re even standing at this point.”

“I’m not,” he muttered as he suddenly pitched over, sliding down your wall, and leaving a bloody smear.

You managed to grab him just before he hit the ground. “Ugh! Oh god, Frank! Have you put on weight? Or, I would guess, probably muscle.” You awkwardly half-walked, half-dragged him through the living room, and heaved him onto the couch. You were just glad you hadn’t changed out of your scrubs yet. They were already spotted with blood and other bodily fluids from your shift, what harm was a little more?

Once you had Frank laid out comfortably on the couch, you lifted up his shirt and took a closer look at his injuries. One bullet was lodged on his left side just above his hip while the other was more central, maybe an inch or two below his ribs. Both bullets seemed to still be lodged inside of him, but without more information, you weren’t sure what you could do.

Lowering his shirt back down, you calmly said, “I need to call an ambulance. This is way beyond what I can manage here.”

Frank grunted. “No hospitals. You know what would happen the minute I stepped through those doors.”

“Yes, but what’s the alternative? Wouldn’t jail be better than death? I don’t have the right equipment here to handle this. No imaging tools, no blood transfusions, and no anesthesia. I would have to go in blind to try and remove the bullets just by digging around for them. I mean, I don’t even have any sort of painkillers stronger than Tylenol!”

“Just do it. I can take the pain.”

“Frank, you don’t have any idea what you’re asking.”

“I said do it!” He growled, but his words didn’t have the same intensity that they normally did. You could see him beginning to slip away before your eyes.

Shaking your head, you sighed. “Okay, fine. But this is going to hurt like a son of a bitch.”

He nodded and as you stood to grab what you needed, he clutched your hand. “Thank you. I know you didn’t have to let me in. Didn’t have to do any of this.”

“Yes, I did. I wasn’t going to let you bleed out in my hallway…. The neighbors would’ve gotten suspicious.”

He chuckled gruffly before wincing in pain. You found yourself unconsciously running your hand gently across his cheek, avoiding any injuries there as you tried to soothe away some of his suffering. He reached up and engulfed your hand with his much larger one as he stared intensely into your eyes. For a moment, neither one of you moved, each hypnotized by the other’s gaze. But just as he opened his mouth to say something, you slipped your hand from his and turned once more to get the supplies.

You and Frank had been in a relationship for almost two years when his lifestyle finally just got to be too much for you. You truly believed that he was helping this city and fighting the good fight, but you couldn’t handle him coming home half-dead on a weekly basis. Waiting up until 3 or 4 each morning just to make sure he managed to drag himself back to you, prepared to patch up whatever wounds he had sustained. Scared to death that every patient who was brought into the ER during one of your shifts would turn out to be the man you loved.

So, you had broken things off. Neither one of you wanted it to happen, but both of you understood why it was the only option. And, though at first, he had tried to still stop by for medical care every once and a while, you had finally put your foot down. Since then, you hadn’t seen Frank in almost two months. And as much as you wanted to be mad at him for coming by, it was a relief to see him, to know he was still alive. Even if he was bleeding out on your couch.

Returning to his side with the necessary supplies, you helped Frank carefully remove his jacket before cutting off his shirt with your medical shears. It was your first really good look at his torso and the sight instantly brought tears to your eyes. Besides the bullet wounds and the red and blue bruising from tonight, you could see a dozen or more scars in various stages of healing littered across his muscular chest that had not been there the last time you saw him without his shirt on. Whatever had happened to him in the months you had been broken up, it hasn’t been good.

Frank saw the sadness and pain etched in your face, and he took your hand as he said, “Listen, I know you told me to stay away. After the things you said last time….. I get it, okay. I’m sorry I came here tonight. I just…I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Believe it or not, Frank, just because I wasn’t cut out for your world, doesn’t mean I want to see you dead.” You held up a pair of tweezers that had been soaking in rubbing alcohol. “Case and point.”

The first bullet, the one by his hip, came out fairly easy. Frank still grunted and groaned under your prodding, but in only a few minutes, the bullet was sitting on your end table. You gave him a few minutes to recover and prepare before you moved on to the second bullet below his ribs.

As you began to dig around for it, Frank’s entire body tensed. His hands gripped the sides of the couch so tightly, his knuckles turned white. The veins were popping out in his thick neck and his jaw was clenched so tightly you were surprised you didn’t hear his teeth cracking. A low, guttural growl reverberated in his throat, but through the pain, he managed to keep his chest practically motionless.

Quietly muttering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” over and over, you tried your best to locate the foreign object. It seemed it had lodged itself much deeper than the first one. Burrowing down farther, you finally felt something. As you clamped down on it, you gave it one big yank and pulled it from his body.

Frank doubled over almost in half as he let out a deep, gravelly, “Fuck” before he collapsed back into the cushions, panting heavily.

You ran your hand through his dark, sweat-matted hair, whispering softly, “Hey, it’s okay, we’re done with the hard part. You just need a few stitches in each hole. But, come on, that’s nothing. We’ve done that a million times.”

He chuckled softly as he stared at you through hazy, pain-addled eyes. “Piece of cake.”

Once you had thoroughly cleaned both wounds, you took a surgical needle and thread and began closing them. You both sat in silence as the moments ticked by. The only sounds were his occasional grunts of pain, but even those were few and far between.

Finally, you asked. “So….are you going to tell me what happened?” No response. “Didn’t think so. Not sure why I even tried.”

“You don’t really want to know. You just think you outta ask.” Frank grunts.

“Maybe you're right. I just…Forget it.”

“No, what? What were you going to say?”

You paused your stitching for a moment as you looked at Frank. “I mean, is it still worth it? Whatever you’re doing out there, whoever you’re trying to take down, is it worth everything you put yourself through? Every scar, all the pain, everything that you’ve lost or given up?”

His eyes bore into yours. “No, not everything that I lost was worth it.”

You returned his gaze for a moment before turning back to your work. “Yeah, well, that was your choice.”

You both fell back into silence as you finished closing the second wound. Once you finished, you gave him a few minutes to recover as you returned your supplies to their rightful place. Then, you helped ease him up and onto his feet before glaring at the stained furniture he had just been laying on. “You know, you owe me a new couch.”

“Sweetheart, I owe you a lot more than that.”

“Damn right you do. I was just making sure you knew I was adding that to your tab.” As he smirked at you, you held up a shirt. “I grabbed you a new one since I kinda destroyed your other one. Besides, you left a few of these here when you took your stuff so I needed to give it to you anyway.”

As carefully as you could, you helped him ease it over his head. You must have been right that he had put on some muscle since the last time you saw him because the shirt that had once fit him well was now straining over his broad chest. As he slid on his jacket, you ran your hands down the front of his shirt to straighten it out. As your hand passed over his heart, you could feel his heartbeat quicken for just a second.

You started to look away, but one of his hands reached up and cupped your face, turning it back towards him. He leaned over and pressed his forehead against yours, his lips just inches away.

But as he began closing that distance, you breathlessly whispered, “Frank, stop, we can’t.”

“Tell me you don’t want this, sweetheart. Tell me that and I’ll stop.” Your eyes fluttered closed as he ran his thumb over your cheek.

“Of course, I want this, I never stopped wanting this.” Frank brought your lips closer, but just before they touched, you dipped your head. “But as long as you’re The Punisher, I…”

Frank dropped his hand as he slowly backed away. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, listen, Frank….. About what I said… I mean it. I can’t be a part of what you do, even indirectly. And I’m really sorry for that, but that’s not my world and it’s not my life.”

He gave you a small lopsided shrug. “I understand. This life, this path I’m on…. Honestly, I would prefer you stay as far from it as fuckin’ possible. I don’t want to drag you down into my darkness, so I’ll stay away from now on. I promise.”

He started to head for the door, but you rested your hand gently on his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “That’s all true, but so is the other thing I told you. I don’t want to see you hurt or dead. I know you don’t believe it, but you are a great man, Frank Castle. And just because we didn’t work out doesn’t mean I don’t still believe that. So, while I’m asking you to not stop by for the small stuff, if something like tonight ever happens again, if you really need me, my door is always open.” You stood up on your tippy-toes to place a chaste kiss on his scarred and bloody cheek.

He gave you a crooked grin before ducking his head and heading out the door. And as you peered out to watch him walk down your hallway and turn the corner, you couldn’t help but wonder if that would be the last time you ever saw Frank Castle alive.

[donutloverxo]

Stevie's new beard

*gif by @marvelheroes*

Birthday shot #2 & Kinktober day 8 - Beard kink

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - You have some strong feelings about Steve’s new look.

Warnings - 18+ only please, smut(m/f), dom Steve, daddy kink.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x female reader

Word count - 2.5k

Masterlists are linked in the bio!

One more swift turn over the corner, your eyes squinting as you tried to concentrate, “That’ll show him,” grumbling under your breathe, pressing the scissors down, “done.” With a smirk on your face.

You had been working on cutting out Steve’s face from your honeymoon album. An album you had spent hours on, your blood, sweet and tears, literally, you must’ve gotten like five paper cuts working on it. But none of that mattered. You were mad.

No, you were fuming.

The previous year, you hadn’t been able to celebrate your birthday with Steve since he was called on an emergency mission. Which was fine at the time you had only been dating for a few weeks. And when he went to Siberia over a month ago, you thought he’d be back for your birthday for sure. Then you’d get to have him pamper you and baby you for the whole day, not that you needed such an excuse, but still.

It was one in the morning, your birthday had already started and you doubted that Steve would be able to make it. He had gone silent a week ago, for his teams and your safety.

Well, by the time he’s back you’ll have cut him out of all your pictures. Maybe you’d even go stay at your sister’s for a while. You missed her and needed a vacation and teach Steve a lesson. You wouldn’t be back until he’s growling on his knees - begging for your forgiveness.

Or maybe... he wouldn’t care. Maybe he’d be glad that you’re gone. You didn’t know what you’d do if that happened, you always seem to be weighing him down. You understood that being married to Captain America meant that you had to share him with the rest of the world. Most of times, you were alright with that. You didn’t care much for the Captain, he was fine but he was no Steve Rogers.

You sighed, giving up on your little project, thinking about maybe calling it a night. Hopefully your friends remember your birthday and do something special for you.

Slipping into Steve’s t-shirt – because as much as you were mad at him, you really did miss him. This was the longest you had been away from him.

Fluffing your pillow, keeping Mister Steebie next to you, you climbed on top of it. Ready to switch off the lights -

“Hey there, sweetheart,” you gasped when you heard the low rumble, clutching your neck, taken aback and panting.

Taking a deep breathe, you looked at your door over your shoulder, sighing when you noticed it’s Steve.

Except it wasn’t...?

“What the fuck?” you frowned and did a double take.

Getting off your bed and walking over to the door. He was still dressed in his dark stealth suit, his dirty blonde hair swept back, his jaw covered in a thick beard - a few shades darker than his hair.

You stopped a few steps away from him, taking in his new look. You didn’t know what to make of it but it did make you shiver - for some reason.

Your lips pressed in a flat line as you stared at him. He spread his arms out, in an attempt to hug you, probably, trying to close the distance between you but you took a step back. Eyeing him suspiciously.

“What’s wrong, doll?” he tilted his head to the side, giving you his Disney eyes.

“What’s wrong with your face?” you spat.

“What do you mean?” his eyebrows scrunched together as he rubbed a hand over his beard.

“Don’t do that!” you admonished him, folding your hands under your titts, perking them up.

“Do what?” scratching his beard, “You’re not making any sense, doll. Didn’t you miss me?”

“I did,” you huffed, “Do you know what date it is?”

“Yes, I do know. That’s why I’m here. I got back as soon as the mission wrapped up. Now come here and let me give you a birthday kiss,” extending an arm towards you.

“Nuh-uh,” you shook your head.

“Why?” he pouted. “I made it back in time, just like I said I would. I missed you, come on just one kiss... wait a minute. Is this about the beard?” You nodded. “You hate it? Tony said you would, I just didn’t have time to shave. I’ll go do it now then.” Since he was desperate for kisses and cuddles.

“No, don’t!” You pressed a palm on his chest, in an effort to stop him. “I mean, sure if you want to... but I don’t hate it. It’s kind of the opposite... I think. I just need time to process this.”

“Doll,” he exasperated, sighing, 'politely’ trying to tell you off. “I’m tired. And you’re really not making any sense.”

“I just fucking love your beard, ok!” you snapped. Your cheeks heating up at the brash confession. Clenching your thighs together. You shouldn’t like it as much as you did. It hides Steve’s beautiful face and makes him look so feral and dangerous. So not Steve.

“Really?” he quirked a brow, pulling you flush against his chest, “how much do you like it, puppy?”

“I - I don’t know...” Still embarrassed, you hide your face over his heart, rubbing your cheek against the rough kevlar of his suit. “I like it a lot, I think. Please keep it?”

He hummed, “But you won’t even look at me.”

“It’s a lot to take in, okay? It’s like, ugh remember when you saw me in my wedding dress?”

He'd never forget, he had cried like a baby. “This is nothing like that,” he rolled his eyes.

“It’s... give me some time. Small steps.” Bringing up a shaky hand to touch his soft fuzzy jaw, “Oh! Remember that time I bought that forties style nightie. And you went to town on me?” looking up at him, “This is like that.”

He nodded, finally understanding. “I get it, doll. But I’m afraid I don’t have time for ‘small steps’. I missed you so much,” Rutting his erection into your belly - as if to physically prove it. “And I need to make your birthday special. Treat the birthday girl right, huh?” He pressed his thumb on your cheekbone, caressing it, dipping his neck down to kiss you but you pulled away.

You hugged him again, standing on your tippy toes and nuzzling your nose in the crook his neck, his beard tickling you ever so slightly.

“I thought you wouldn’t make it. That I’d be all alone.” You whined. And then he comes back looking this good! Making it impossible for you to stay mad at him.

“Of course, I made it. Couldn’t let my best girl be alone. Now let me kiss you,” you shook your head again, “fine then. We can do your small steps. Let me eat you out,” biting the shell of your ear, “I’m hungry, doll.”

There was no way you could say no to that. “Oh - okay,” you gulped a huge lump of air.

Suddenly, he swept you off your feet, throwing you over his shoulder, his hand kneading your ass before smacking it, “Missed this sweet ass too.” he said, throwing you on top of the mattress. “I like this shirt on you, pup,” he smiled, his heart swelled as he felt strangely possessive of you, hovering above you, “But it had to come off.”

With a lack of finesse, his greedy hands ripped the poor clothing to shreds. He hadn’t gone so long without you. He needed to be inside you as soon as he could.

“Stevie!” You tried to chastise him.

He threw the shirt away, growling at the sight of your naked breasts, your hard pebbles, your hands coming up to cover them from his dark eyes. That won’t do, he pulled them away, pinning them beside your head. “What do you think you’re doing?” he frowned

You shuddered. Really, a beard shouldn’t make that much of a significant difference but it made him all the more intimidating. “Sorry, daddy.” You pouted. If nothing else, the D-word always worked.

He shook his head, capturing a nipple in his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. He made sure to run his beard over your breast. Letting go of your twisting hand as it clenched on the back of his head. Your back arching, pushing more your body to him.

With a loud ‘pop’ he let go of your hard nub, shoving two fingers in your mouth and ordering you to suck and like he obedient doll you were - you followed.

He pulled his fingers out, snaking his hand between your legs, dipping them in your heat. Then he noticed it and frowned.

Looking to his side, a sack of flour? No, looked fluffy enough to be cotton. “What is this?” he wanted to know.

You were too far gone to even register his words but you vaguely heard him. You bit your lip, following his eyes. “Oh, that’s Mister Steebie.”

“What?”

“That’s you. I missed you and I needed a cuddle buddy. So I stuffed some cotton in a sack, dressed him in your flannel and drew your face on him.”

His 'face' was just two dots with a blue sharpie, golden hair on his head and a pink mouth. “It’s cute.” he chuckled, grabbing ‘Steebie' and putting him on the floor, “But you don’t need him. You have the real thing now,” he reminded you, trailing kisses down your body, pushing your thighs apart to make room for him and settling between them.

“I suppose I should upgrade him now. Draw the beard on. I wonder if I have a brown sharpie,” you mused, yelping when you felt his teeth grazing over your clit. “God!” you heaved, propping yourself up on your elbows you looked down at him. A few strands of his hair had fallen on his forehead, he looked ethereal. “You’re so pretty, Stevie.” Your hand caressing his face.

He leaned into it, having been touch starved for over a month. “You’re the pretty one, pup. Now, will you be good for me? Let me treat my birthday girl right?”

You nodded. Laying back down, running your fingers through his longer locks.

“Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” he asked

“No, I followed your rules.”

“Good, I didn’t either.” Not that he had the time or space to anyway. But he wanted to save himself for you.

“Thor told me, women like a nice thick beard,” rubbing his face on your inner thighs, “he’s a bit of an oversharer. But I knew you’d like it too. Guess I was right.” He was smug about it too. He knew you inside and out. More than anybody else, maybe more than you know yourself.

He pushed your thighs apart as you squirmed above him, trying to clamp them on his head. “Now, sweetheart. I thought you promised to be good. Do I need to tie you up?”

You furiously shook your head. “No, please! I’ll be good.” Normally, you’d love to be tied up. But you needed to touch him, his face and his hair.

“I know it’s hard, pup, just try a little harder,” He tongue nudging at your entrance. His fingers spreading your lips apart, “such a pretty pussy,” he praised.

Wrapping his mouth around your clit and pushing his fingers in your pussy. He made sure to gather as much of your slick over his beard as he could, to make a mess of it.

You threw your head back, trying your best to stay still, it was too overwhelming, too good, “Stevie! Stop, stop please,” you begged, pulling on his hair.

He immediately pulled away, hovering back over you, inspecting you for any distress.

“I want to come with you inside me. Please.” you said, fluttering your lashes.

He sighed, “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Come on! It’s my birthday. You have to do as I say,” you giggled.

“As you wish,” he shook his head. He would’ve given in even if it wasn’t your birthday.

His fingers scrambling to get his dick out of his suit. Kissing your neck, sucking on your special spot, he pushed inside you. Digging his fingers in your hips, he bit your neck, “So fucking tight, doll.” He groaned, he was at the end of his rope, he couldn’t take it anymore, snapping his hips with a swift thrust he buried himself inside you.

“Stevie,” you mewled, feeling his tip pressing against your special spot. “Right there!”

Pulling his cock out and then pushing back, “Here?” he wiggled his hips, pressing his lips to your jaw.

“Yeah,” you gave a shaky reply. Already on the edge as he kept ramming in on your g-spot. “Steve, kiss me please?” You needed to feel his lips on yours, to feel his beards on your face.

Circling a hand under your waist to pull you up and closer to him, his hips setting a punishing pace, he crashed his lips on yours. Clashing your teeth together. He moaned as you pulled his bottom lip with your teeth, before kissing him again.

Letting go of his lips, just for a second to pepper kisses all over his beard and then kissing him deeply.

You clenched around his length, pulling his hair, biting the hilt to his jaw to stifle your scream. Waves of pleasure crashing over you one after another.

He came right after you, with a few more thrusts, filling you to the brim. He collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you.

He laid beside you, on his side your bodies still connected. He couldn’t have any of his spend escaping your tight cunt.

He kissed the crown of your head. “You liked your first gift?” he asked as you hummed. “Don’t worry, I got plenty more for you.” he smirked already feeling himself get hard again in your pussy.

When you were quiet for a while, so unusual for you, your fingers playing with his beard, “What’s wrong, pup?” He tilted your face up so he could see it.

“Nothing,” you shook your head. Suddenly feeling guilty for ruining your precious pictures. “They need you more than I ever will - your team and this world.”

“That’s... true. You don’t need me. You’re a strong woman, if anything I need you. But that’s a good thing, sweetheart. You want me. And that's enough for me.”

“Really?” Your lips curling up in a big grin as you nuzzled his beard, feeling awfully proud of yourself.

Steve’s heart was big enough to share him with the entire world. That he could still love you more than you could even begin to comprehend. And always make his way back to you. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm.

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

[calif0rnia-lovers]

Lover of Mine #5.5 | Angel Reyes.

Series Masterlist | join my gc for updates since tags are acting weird

title: For Better, or For Worse.

rating: 💙 💔

As long as you're feeling the same, I'll follow you into the flames

sum: angel fears once it's out, his secret will be the final push you need to leave. instead of confessing, he sticks out the couple's retreat to give himself a few more days with you. he makes himself a promise: he'll tell you once you two return to santo padre. but a ghost from his past pushes angel's agenda forward a few days.

words: the standard for this series....long af (that's why I break it into sections so you know where to come back to when you take a break...but seriously, please take breaks on these long ass chapters)

Ez Reyes is a smart man. There is no denying it. However, Ez never thought he would struggle to tie a tie.

He is currently outside of his father’s truck. Kneeling before his nephew, Ez concentrates as he works through the instructions he Youtube’d earlier. A usually chatty Jeyson has been silent. He slept the entire hour's drive to school. When his Uncle woke him, Jeyson shot Ez a glare that reminded him of you.

Jeyson was fine the entire weekend that you were gone, but the moment he woke up this Monday to find you had not returned his entire mood changed. He has fought Ez tooth and nail the entire morning.

Ez glances up from the tie to Jeyson. “Hey, you sure you wanna go to school today?”

“I have to go to school” Jeyson mumbles.

“Yeah, but sometimes it doesn’t hurt to take a break.” Ez offers Jeyson a smile. “If you’re not having a good day, it’s okay to stay home.”

“I don’t want to stay home with you.”

“That’s okay,” Ez chuckles. “What about Izzy?”

“I don’t want to stay home with her either.” Jeyson releases a huff before glancing down at his now fixed tie. He bends down to pick up his backpack. Slipping it onto his shoulder, Jeyson steps around his Uncle. “I want my mom to come home.”

Tommy’s gaze remains on the sleeve of his blue Stockton uniform. His fingers tug at the loose string resting against his wrist. He ignores the smirk on his older brother’s face. The passing of time has muddled the bruises on Tommy’s skin. The mixture of black and yellow stood out on the parts of him he's allowed to remain visible. No matter how he sits, the pain in his ribs is inescapable. Sleep has fallen to the way-side, the inability to get comfortable meaning he only gets it once he’s passed out from exhaustion.

“You didn’t tell me she was hot. Now I know why you were sticking up for her the other day--”

“I didn’t notice. I’m more worried about her getting me out of here.”

“Uh-huh.” Leo’s eyes roll as he watches his brother’s eyes pass over the crowded visiting center. “I’m just saying—”

“What’d you find?” Tommy’s fingers massage his temple, the irritation in his voice amplified by his brother’s antics. Lack of sleep and around-the-clock oversight and antics from Rogers has cut his fuse short. “If you didn’t find anything, you could've saved yourself a trip up here—and I could be asleep.”

“She’s not married—unless she has a habit of leaving her rings at home.”

“What? On the table?”

Leo shakes his head. “No. A jewelry box in the bedroom.”

“What about the kid?” “He has to be about eight, or nine? Name’s Jeyson. You were right, he’s definitely Angel’s. Wish I could show you the picture. He couldn’t deny that kid if he tried.”

“Yeah.” Tommy nods impatiently, motioning for him to continue. “What else?”

“Kid goes to some boujee ass prep school up north. Gilman something? Embroidered blazers, ties, the whole nine. His mom’s paying a pretty penny too, apparently, it's the best in the state. He’s into the typical shit kids are into. Star Wars, Spider-Man. Plays the piano, apparently, he’s actually really fucking good. Awards and all. His mom’s got him pretty busy. A lot of after-school activities. Looks like she and Angel rotate transportation...She must not be around right now tho.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Apart from the fact you’re still not transported to a new unit?” Leo scoffs. “The kid was with someone else when I was scouting. A girl and a kid with a prospect patch.”

“Mayans?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe his little brother...last I heard he was hemmed up here. Haven’t seen him around tho.”

“Maybe he got out?”

Tommy dismisses Leo’s suggestion. “Most cop killers don’t walk free. What else?”

“He’s not doing a good job of keeping his nephew safe. I talked to the kid.”

Tommy’s eyes open. “You did what?”

“He walked right off with me.” Leo quietly explains. He mistakes his brother’s silence as a cue to move forward with his story. “His uncle was so into his date he didn’t even notice the kid walk off with me--”

The sight of Tommy’s hand running down his face tapers the rest of Leo’s statement.

His voice comes out low, through his clenched teeth. “I didn’t tell you to touch the kid.”

“I didn’t touch the kid,” Leo’s eyes rolled. “I got him a funnel cake—” “I don’t give a fuck—” the slamming of Tommy’s fist against the table brings the room to a brief silence. The eyes that he has attracted linger on Tommy as his glare nearly burns a hole through his brother. Rogers shrugs off the wall nearby. He takes a step of warning in Tommy’s direction. “—what you did, Leo—it was stupid.”

“How else was I supposed to get him to talk to me?”

Tommy’s response comes out slowly. Each passing word increases his irritation.

“You didn’t need him to talk to you because I didn’t ask you to talk to him. Buying him a funnel cake, or whatever the fuck your grand plan was allowed the kid to see your face. He can open up his mouth and ID you—”

“ID me,” Leo snorts, dismissing Tommy’s claim. “Relax, Tommy. He’s not a state witness, he’s a kid—“

“Yeah, and according to you and his 'boujee ass prep school,' he’s a smart ass fucking kid, Leo.” Tommy lets out a long sigh. “The last thing I need is the kid opening his mouth to his mom about some random guy approaching him.”

“Don’t worry, I played it cool. Told him I was a friend of his dad. Maybe, if you had told me exactly why I went there I wouldn’t—”

It was something Tommy had explained to his brother during their last visit. The less you know, the better.

“I already told you,” Tommy rubs at his temple, the sudden throbbing causing his jaw to clench. “I needed to double-check something.”

“And that’s what I did.” Leo sighs. “What I want to know is, why the fuck you called me all the way down here to check pictures in some house.”

Tommy studies his brother for a moment. He shifts forward, his elbows settling against the table.

“You wanna know why I didn’t tell you? You don’t think, Leo. I ask you to do one thing—one fucking thing—and you almost fuck it up. If I wanted you to think I wouldn’t have told you exactly what to do.” Leo’s jaw tightens as his brother continues. “You trying to think leads to you doing dumb shit like kidnapping her fucking son—”

“I didn’t kidnap him,” Leo mumbles.

Tommy’s fingers massage his clenched fist. “You’re lucky I can’t reach across this fucking table right now.”

Leo’s gaze drops from his brothers. The look that lies in Tommy’s eyes is one he’s seen before—at least not directed at him. It’s the look that accompanied the acts that earned Tommy his nickname. Leo’s gaze nervously shifts towards Rogers who is still watching Tommy from his post.

“What do you want with her? Thinking she’s gonna give you a shot? Criminal is her type, and she’s definitely yours.”

“It’s not her I need. It’s Angel.” Tommy starts, his jaw tightening as his gaze remains on Leo. “And if you want Angel, you need her.”

“If she’s as good as you say, what do you need Angel for? You’ve been talking about her like she might actually get you off.”

Leo steals a brave glance at his brother. He watches as Tommy looks up from his tattooed knuckles.

“No matter how hard you pray, people like me and you don't come out on the right side of the law. No matter how fucking good she is, she can't get me out of this. This shit is stacked too high against me." Tommy’s gaze shifts to the clock overhead. “Did you find the necklace?”

Leo nods as Tommy stands.

“Good, go ahead and do what I asked.” Tommy pauses, his voice lowering as his gaze meets his brothers. “Nothing else, Leonardo. The time I'm looking at right now, I’ll fucking kill you right here if you pull some shit like that again.”

At some point Monday night, Angel abandoned his spot on the sofa to crawl into bed with you. His intention may have been to take one side of the bed, but to no surprise, he has failed.

You came to this revelation at two o’clock in the morning when you tried to roll over but found it to be impossible. You have been stuck on your back ever since. You attempted to fall back asleep but have not been able to.

Cheek pressed against your chest, arm wrapped around your waist, Angel hasn’t moved. He doesn’t move when your alarm goes off at 7:30 or when the knock comes on the door at 8:00.

The sleep Angel lost, the past two days over Tommy seems to have piled onto him. He only wakes when your fingers brush through his hair, the warmth of your touch lingering against his cheek.

“You have to get up and eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” Angel mumbles. The sunlight peeking through the curtains prompts him to burrow his face against your neck. “I’m tired.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you smile softly. “But, I’m hungry, and I can’t get our food with you laying on top of me.”

Your words are met with a huff before Angel rolls over. Resting on his back, he watches the fan spin as you get out of bed.

His first instinct is to check his phone. He pushes himself up, his body protesting with the sudden movement, once he realizes his cellphone is not where he left it.

“Where’s my phone?”

His palms pressed against his eyes as he pushes away the enticing thought of laying back down for a few more hours of sleep.

“It kept going off,” you look up from the plate in your hand. “Ezekiel kept texting you.”

“What did he want?”

Angel watches you shrug. “I don’t know. I put it in the drawer. I tried to wake you up, but you were literally dead.”

Angel releases a sigh of relief before reaching over to open the bedside drawer. Facedown, his phone has several notifications. He ignores the rest, focusing on those from his younger brother.

2:30 a.m. 📲 : You still up?

2:35 a.m. 📲 : Talked to Bishop. Found out what the shipment was

3:00 a.m. 📲 : Pretty sure I found something else

3:02 a.m. 📲 : Don’t know if this is the guy. If it is we might have a problem

3:03 a.m. 📲: Found this in the paper

3:04 a.m. 📲 : Check it out and call me back.

The last incoming message was a photo, the front page of the Daily Imperial Gazette. Angel scans the article as you climb back into bed. A few phrases stick as he reads, “Man charged in Santo Padre murder…” “Thomas Flores, 30, has been charged…” “...obtained representation from Lorente & Rothman…” “...Friday, Flores was denied bond…”

“I have to tell you something.”

Angel instinctively hits the power button on his phone. Glancing up, he realizes you haven’t even bothered to look up at him. Your focus is on the half-eaten croissant in your hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you explain as you take another bite of your croissant. “The case Samuel gave me—the one Aiden is helping me with—it’s for this guy. His name’s Tommy Flores. He has some pretty...intense charges, so you’re probably going to hear people talking about it soon. We had court Friday, and the judge...he’s pretty tough. He denied any form of a bond, he didn’t even bother trying to set a ridiculously high one.”

You glance up to find Angel’s eyes on you. His unreadable expression causes your brow to furrow. You mistake the look in his eyes as uncertainty.

“I honestly don’t think it’s anything you have to worry about.” Offering him a smile, you lightly roll your eyes. “But I’m going to have to start working late when we get back, so I need to know that what happened Friday won’t happen again.”

You wait for Angel’s response, but it doesn’t come.

“If I take over morning drop-offs, can I count on you to pick Jeyson up after school?” You continue. “Or, do I have to ask Isabela to do it...Angel?”

Angel blinks as your fingers snap.

“Are you listening to me?” The irritation he finds as his focus shifts to you causes him to nod.

Angel nods a second time as he takes in the look of skepticism on your face.

“Yeah, I’m listening.”

“So, you’re good with picking Jeyson up from school?” You clarify. “Every day of the week?”

Angel unlocks his phone, nodding for the third time. “Yeah. I’ll pick him up.”

“And if you can’t,” you reach forward. You catch Angel's chin forcing him to look at you. “You call and let me know the moment you find out?”

Nodding, Angel drops his eyes the second your gaze meets his. “I gotta call Ez.”

Despite his admission, your hand doesn’t drop preventing him from getting up. For a moment, Angel thinks you’ll let it go. For once, you will ignore the feeling you get each time you notice a change in him. It is something no one else in his life can seem to do. It is something you’ve been able to do your entire life. It is something Angel wishes you couldn’t do.

“What’s wrong?”

Angel shakes his head as you release him. He keeps his eyes trained on the plate in your lap avoiding your gaze as your touch brushes through his hair. It's a habit. Angel knows the moment he meets your gaze he’ll tell you whatever is on his mind. It’s impossible not to do when he knows you can read him best that way. He picks up what’s left of your croissant and takes a bite.

You sit your plate aside before closing the distance between the two of you. Angel’s eyes lift to meet yours as you settle on his lap. The warmth of your palms finds his cheeks as you take his face in your hands.

“I’ve known you nearly my entire life, Angel. I know you don’t believe it, but I can tell when you’re lying to me. Just like I can tell when you’re upset and anxious. And when you’re going to annoy me.” The soft smile on your lips brings a weak one to his. “There’s no point in trying to act like I don’t. What’s wrong?”

“You were right about Friday night. I wasn’t with Samuel. I wasn’t even in Santo Padre.” Angel lets out a deep breath. His voice low as your fingers toys with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Ez and I were in Mexico. I left when you were in court. I knew we weren’t going to make it back in time, but I didn’t want to have to tell you because I knew you’d be pissed.”

“What happened to your hand?”

He watches you lift it. Your finger traces the bandage.

“Cut it on a shovel.”

Your gaze lifts to find his focus on the path your finger traces.

“...okay.”

Angel shook his head. “It’s not okay—I fucked up. Forreal this time—“

"What? On Friday?” You let out a deep breath. “Angel, I know I freaked out. Missing the recital—yeah, it was fucked up—but it is not the worse thing you’ve done.”

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve that.” Your eyes watch him release a tired laugh, his gaze down. "You defend me, even when you shouldn’t.”

It is true. Defending Angel has been second nature your entire life. Often you do it in response to others. But also in response to him. When you were teenagers, you learned a valuable lesson about him. Angel is his worst critic. He’ll talk himself down harsher than anyone, even those who hate him.

“It’s because I love you.” Your arms wrap around his neck pulling him into a hug. “Just because we fight and say stupid things to each other doesn’t mean that I don’t love you, Angel. If I haven’t been able to stop doing that our entire time together, I don’t know why you think a fight in a therapy session is going to be the final straw. Me not talking to you is just the easiest way for me not to say something I’ll regret later.”

Angel’s grip tightens around you as your lips press against his skin.

“At this point, there isn’t anything you can do or say that’s going to make me stop loving you.” The reassurance in your voice lifts his gaze to yours. “Okay?”

Your lips press against his in a soft kiss. You leave a second against his forehead before getting up.

“I have to take a shower,” you announce as Angel’s arm wraps around your waist guiding your body back towards his. Your fingers drift into his hair as his head rests against you. “There’s more food you should eat before we go out.”

The two of you stay that way for nearly a minute. Angel releases you as the sound of your ringing phone fills the air.

Silence from Angel Reyes is a bad sign. Such a rarity, it wrings your stomach into knots. It has been hours since you woke to find him sleeping against you. Angel has said just as little as he did in the morning. When you stepped out of the shower, you found him fully dressed and brushing his teeth.

You glance over your shoulder to find he’s standing where you last left him. Arms crossed over his chest Angel rests against the wall as far from the line as possible. With his sunglasses on, you can’t tell where he’s looking. The corner of his lips turns up into a small smile as you come to a stop before him.

“Who knew smoothies took forever to make,” he sighs as your arms wrap around his waist.

Resting your cheek against Angel's chest, you tighten your grip. You listen to the steady rhythm of his heart as his lips press against your hair.

“I want you to come somewhere with me tonight.”

“No,” Angel chuckles. You tip your head back, pouting as his gaze drops to yours.

He shakes his head as your weight shifts to your toes.

“Please,” you ask, your lips pressing a kiss against his.

“Last time I did that, you ripped me to shreds,” he laughs. “I haven’t even had time to recover from that.”

“It’ll be fun,” you promise. The second kiss you leave morphs Angel's smile into a grin. You leave a third, this one against his cheek. “I promise.”

Angel releases a long breath as you take a step back, a grin on your face.

“It better be,” he shakes his head as you quickly press a final kiss against his lips before turning to retrieve your order.

As you reach the corner, your cell phone vibrates in your back pocket. You don’t bother checking who it is. Aiden has called you three times. You had sent him a text message in response to his first three calls. Telling him to ask Isabela for help on whatever he needed.

The moment the call goes to voicemail, the vibration picks back up.

You force yourself to take a breath as Angel leads you outside.

“Hi, Aiden--”

“I know this week is supposed to be for you and Angel,” Aiden's voice comes out in a rushed whisper. “But, I need your help.”

“Where are you?” You ask as you take a sip of your smoothie. “And, why are you whispering?”

“I’m at the courthouse,” Aiden sighs. “I’ve been here all morning, and they’re giving me the run-around.”

“About what?”

“The Warden called the office this morning. You weren’t there, so I answered your desk phone. He didn’t give me many details, just that Flores was detained last night. They couldn't get him to say anything—to no surprise—but one of the guards said he was involved in an altercation with another inmate. Apparently, Tommy messed him up pretty bad—like...transported to the local hospital bad.”

Angel glances over at you as you slip out of his grip. You take a seat at the table he stops alongside.

In the short time, you’ve worked with Aiden, you’ve learned one thing. The moment he thinks there is something to panic about, Aiden will panic. So, if you sound stressed it kicks off his panicking.

Resting your face in your hand, you speak quietly. “So, he wasn't transferred on Friday as I'd requested? If he was he couldn't have gotten in a fight.”

“I know. Apparently this isn't the first one he's been in. The Warden said he looks like he’s been roughed up in the past few days. I’ve been here since first thing this morning—”

“Let me guess.” You rest back against your seat. “They told you there’s nothing they can do, with the prison being at full capacity they don’t have a cell for him?”

A brief silence falls over the receiver. Aiden’s brow furrows.

“Yeah—how'd you know?”

“That’s because it’s bullshit,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Judge Miller was hoping you’d leave and not press the issue.”

“Shit,” Aiden mumbles. “Shit, should I call Samuel—”

“God no. Aiden, I’ll tell you what to do, and say, just relax.”

“I lied to you.”

Angel glances down at you as your lips press against his knuckles. “About what?”

“About wanting to wait to get married.”

Your admission leaves Angel quiet. He opens his mouth to speak, but it closes as you place a second kiss against his skin.

You tilt your head back to find his eyes focused on the water.

“I was talking to Izzy the other day—not about getting married—but about you and...I mean...we’re trying to have another kid.” You backtrack as his gaze drifts to you. “That’s not the only reason, but I don’t want to spend another seven years playing house with you, Angel. I have tried so hard to find reasons why we should just leave each other in the past, but it’s impossible. I can’t help thinking that we’ve wasted so much time trying to fight it we should just get married.”

If he is excited by your words, Angel doesn’t show it. If he’s anxious by your words Angel doesn’t show it. The only response he gives is the furrowing of his brow as his pace slows before coming to a complete stop.

“I thought you’d be...a little happier,” you admit. The butterflies in your stomach seem to double in size as Angel's gaze focuses on your interlaced fingers.

“Right now?” Angel gently squeezes your hand, the smile slowly spreading across his lips causing you to shake your head. “A fancy place like this I’m pretty sure we could find someone to do it tonight.”

“Preferably with your son there,” you giggle as his lips press against your forehead.

“Just so you know,” Angel mumbles as he leaves a kiss against your lips. “You can’t take it back.”

“It’d be pointless,” you admit, your eyes focused on the incoming tide. “Regardless of what I say, you’re impossible to escape.”

“Like you said, it must be fate,” he teases as you step back towards the security of the shore.

“I didn’t say fate. I said I was tired of trying to outrun you.”

Angel’s eyes roll. “Okay.”

Pushing against his chest, you cause him to stumble backward making it impossible for him to avoid the incoming tide.

“Fuck—”

Angel’s scream is drowned out by the sound of your laughter. He tries to escape the chilled water but realizes it’s pointless as a second wave rolls through.

“Is it cold?” You ask the grin on your face prompting him to take a step in your direction. “Because it looked like it was cold.” The look on his face causes your laughter to return.

“You’re about to find out how cold it is.” The promise in his voice causes you to take a step back.

You catch sight of Angel’s smile before you take off running.

Between the giggles that leave you breathless and the sand between your feet, you don’t get very far before Angel’s arms wrap around you.

“I’m sorry, okay. Let me go, please?” Angel’s grip loosens as you turn to face him. “I really am sorry.”

A gasp escapes your lips as your feet leave the ground. Blood rushes to your head as Angel tosses you over your shoulder. It only takes a second for you to realize he’s turned and is carrying you back towards the water.

“Angel Ignacio Reyes put me down now!”

“Be careful what you wish for, baby girl,” Angel chuckles as he carries you into the water.

It doesn’t matter that you’re both fully clothed Angel carries you out until the water is waist-deep. He comes to a stop. Shifting you in his arms, he grins as your arms instantly wrap around his neck.

“You think this is far enough?” He asks as you take in your surroundings.

“I hate you,” you giggle as you meet his playful gaze.

“I could go further out,” he takes a step forward.

“Just do it.”

Judging by the mischievous grin on his lips, you expect him to drop you in. For whatever reason, Angel spares you a dunking. Instead, he carefully lowers you to your feet.

The chill of the water causes your grip to tighten around him. He waits until you’re standing to let go of you.

You can’t suppress the smile that finds your lips as he kisses you.

“You’re lucky you buttered me up beforehand,” he chuckles as you step around him.

He follows you back to shore watching as you glance down the beach, back towards the lights of the hotel. Your pace slows as you start in the direction of the hotel.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Despite the nod of reassurance, you force yourself to take another breath. You shake your head slightly, a tiny smile finding your lips. It takes a third breath for the feeling to pass. “I just—got lightheaded for a second.”

“Uh-huh. Funny how you get ‘lightheaded’ the second I take my shirt off. I don’t know why you still try and play this game at this point.”

Your eyes open in time to allow you the moment you need to react. Catching the shirt tossed your way, you watch Angel unzip his jeans.

"Angel put your shirt back on–I’m serious.” The warning in your voice stretches the smile on Angel’s lips. Your eyes leave him, long enough to drift back to the glow of the hotel’s lanterns still visible. The laughter and music cause you to step in his direction. “You are not getting naked on the beach! Are you trying to get us kicked out of here—”

“I wasn’t planning on going in naked,” Angel laughs. It is an admission of truth, but the sight of your panicked gaze causes a mischievous grin to take over his features. “But, I’m down to if you are—“

“No—"

“You know what?” Angel nods as he tugs his foot out of his jeans. “Your plan is better.”

“Angel—“

There’s no point throwing in a protest. Angel has fully stripped down to his briefs.

You step forward as he moves to push them down.

“I am serious, Angel. Do not do it.”

He rolls his neck before letting out a loud, and exaggerated, “fine.”

“But the only way that’s coming back on,” he nods towards the shirt in your hands before taking a step back. “You gotta join me.”

“I’m not doing this.”

Angel shoots you a look of skepticism as he takes another step towards the water.

“You’re already wet,” he chuckles. “Might as well get in.”

You remain where you are as Angel turns and makes his way into the water.

He waits until he’s waist-deep to start swimming out. He disappears out of sight as you drop his shirt to the ground. Stepping out of your flip-flops, you roll your eyes as you watch him resurface under the moonlight.

“Hurry up!” Even with the distance between the two of you, you can see Angel’s grin in your mind perfectly.

Despite your initial protest, you stay in the water for nearly an hour. Angel stands alongside you. His right-hand rests against your spine, his left interlaced with yours as your float. He watches you, his eyes admiring the moonlight against your skin as you focus on the stars above.

“I can’t remember the last time I looked at these,” you admit.

He smiles as your eyes drift shut. “Mom used to freak every time she caught us sneaking onto the roof to look at them.”

“That’s because you fell off one time. Nearly gave her a heart attack.”

“Wouldn’t have been the first time.”

You bite back a smile as Angel’s lips lightly brush against yours. They drift to the bridge of your nose as you release a soft giggle.

“Speaking of mom’s, yours came by last week.” Angel watches as the smile on your face slowly fades. “You were at work. I was taking Jeyson to school. She said she’s been calling you.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you admit. “She’s blocked.”

“I was thinking...since we’re heading back a day early, we should stop by your mom’s on the way back–”

“No.”

Angel releases a deep breath. He wasn’t naive to think you would jump at the idea. But, since seeing her, Angel couldn’t get the thought out of his mind.

“I know ya’ll don’t get along, but my mom’s not here to see Jeyson grow up. I think he should be able to know the grandparents he has left.”

“I get that, but I’m not doing it.”

Your eyes remain closed as you concentrate on the waves gently pushing against your skin.

Angel doesn’t say anything else on the subject. He knows your response will stay the same. It has for the past nine years. He also doesn’t say anything else because he knows he’s the reason you won’t budge.

The hatred your mother has for Angel may be misplaced, but she is too stubborn to admit it. She has always blamed Angel for many of your actions, starting when you were kids. Anytime you didn’t go through with what she had planned for you, Angel was to blame. You missed curfew in high school Angel was to blame. You skipped school on your birthday Angel was to blame. You didn’t attend the college she spent her entire life preparing you for Angel was to blame. You got pregnant out of wedlock Angel was to blame.

It had all came to a head at your baby shower. Angel wasn’t there, but it was the first time he’d ever seen his mother truly angry. Sure, Marisol had gotten mad at Angel countless times. But seeing how mad Marisol was as she recounted the fight she had witnessed between you and your mother, Angel was shocked.

He never asked what words were exchanged, and he didn’t have to. All he knew was that from that moment forward, everyone avoided the subject of your mother.

“I get what you’re saying, Angel,” you sigh. “But, if my mom truly wanted to get to know Jeyson she would apologize. I can’t bring our son around someone that has said the things she’s said about you. If she can say them about you, she can say them about him because Jeyson is your son.”

“Shit, I really look as bad as I feel?”

The smile on Tommy’s face grows as you look up. The heat covering your skin seems to rise as you start to speak.

“No—” You wince. “I’m sorry for staring—it’s rude.”

“It’s all good,” Tommy chuckles as he watches your eyes leave his.

He watches as you bite your lip. Whatever is on your mind, you don’t share it. Instead, your eyes linger on the bruise beneath his right eye. You’ve seen enough damage on Angel to know how bad it must have looked a few days prior.

“Hey, relax.” Tommy shifts forward in his seat, the sound of his shackles dragging across the table causing your attention to refocus. He meets your gaze. “The Doc cleared me—gave me my two Advil and sent me back to my cell. I think it’s safe to say I’m not gonna die.”

Despite the smile on his face, your head still shakes.

“Yeah, but I still feel bad that it happened. I was supposed to double-check the clearance of your paperwork.”

“Trust me, it’s not your fault,” Tommy chuckles. He watches your eyes drop to his freshly bruised knuckles. “It’s mine. The funny thing about this place is, you always run into people from your past. My mom used to said I never knew when to stop talking. I might have said the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

You watch as Tommy’s eyes briefly drift over your shoulder to where Rogers sits in the corner. His smile returns as his gaze drifts back to you.

“So, I take it you had fun.” He notes your raised brow before backtracking. “The Warden said he called your office and your boyfriend answered, said you were out of town.”

Your eyes roll. “Hey, go easy on my boyfriend. He’s the one who went to the courthouse. From what I hear, he slammed Judge Miller hard because your paperwork has been approved.”

You take in Tommy’s skepticism. You slide the signed form across the table, allowing him a better view.

“Signed by the Warden as well,” you point out. “Thanks to Aiden as soon as we’re done here, you’re being moved out of the unit.”

“No shit?” Tommy chuckles. He nods in approval as he scans the form. “I’ll be sure to thank Aiden when I see him. Guess you were right. He’s got some balls after all...Look, I know I’m not the easiest client….so um….Thanks for pushing for this. Making sure everything was straight. Most people would’ve just left me where I was.”

“Yeah, well I can’t have you die before I get fully paid.”

The laugh Tommy releases brings a smile to your lips. He settles back against his chair as you pick up your pen.

"I need you to understand that this new assignment may not be your favorite," you explain. "You're being moved to a new unit, but I can't get you moved again. That means, you can't do anything else, Tommy. Do you understand me?"

Tommy nods. He looks up as your hand finds his.

"This," your lift his hand forcing him to take in his swollen knuckles. "The shit you pulled. You're lucky they didn't throw you in AdSeg. That's 23 hours in your cell. No phone calls, no visits. Nothing. The only reason they didn't throw you in there is because they messed up, and didn't want Aiden to draw a motion against the judge. I don't care what you have to do, but you better learn to walk away from a fight. Now."

"I know." Tommy sighs as you let him go.

“Then do it. My job is already hard enough as it is. I can't have you trying to kill someone while you're already here for murder. Plus, the judge is pissed because of the paperwork Aiden had to file. That's not good for either of us. So, that means I need your help.”

His brow raises, the corners of his lips turning up into a smirk. “I thought I was supposed to be the one asking for help.”

“True, but help is a two-way street.”

Tommy hesitates for a moment. His eyes drop to his knuckles as he lets off a light shrug.

“What do you need?”

“For you to tell me why you were meeting with Alexander Maddox the night you were arrested.”

Tommy’s smile fades quicker than it came. His jaw tightens as he shakes his head.

You sit forward resting your elbows on the table.

“Tommy, if it’s about the MC.” Tommy’s eyes lift for a brief second. Long enough for you to catch a glimpse of the shock in his eyes. You lower your voice. “I know you’re with the Horsemen—”

Tommy shakes his head. “Look—I get you got a job to do, but—there’s just shit with the MC I can’t talk about—”

“I know how this stuff works—”

“Got a lot of personal experience with an MC?” Tommy asks.

His question causes you to release a deep breath.

“If you don’t want to tell me anything, fine. But when it comes down to it, Tommy. People will cut you off to save themselves.” The irritation in your voice lifts his gaze. “That shipment you were carrying, was not a dime bag. Your brothers will let you go down for this. Hard. They will let you rot in here for the rest of your fucking life if it means avoiding a R.I.C.O. case.”

Tommy’s brow furrows. “What’s a R.I.C.O.?”

His question throws you off. The pure confusion on his face causes you to backtrack.

“You seriously don’t know what that is?”

“I mean—I’ve heard of it...how do you know what it is?”

“It’s what you pay me for,” you remind him.

“Then I guess I’m paying you to explain it to me.”

The moment you step outside of the elevator, you come face to face with a wide-eyed Isabela.

“Is your phone dead?” She asks the irritation in her voice causing your brow to arch.

“Off—I had a client meeting with Tommy. I thought I told you—”

Isabela ignores your response, her eyes focused in the direction of your office. “Yeah, whatever. I’ve been calling you for the last freaking hour—”

“Sorry—ow.” You wince as Isabela catches your arm. She pulls you to a stop. “What?”

She releases her grip, but she sidesteps. Blocking your path, Isabela places both hands on your shoulders. She ignores the look of confusion on your face, her gaze studying yours.

“How are you?”

Her question causes you to hesitate. “...Fine...why?”

Isabela takes another moment to study your eyes as if she doesn’t fully believe you before nodding.

“Just so you know,” she sighs as she takes a step back. “I did not let her in. Aiden did. He didn’t know any better—bless his heart—”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your mother.” Isabela winces at the look on your face. “She’s in your office. Promise me you won’t make a scene.”

“It’s never me you have to worry about,” you mumble.

When you enter your office, you find your mother is not where Aiden asked her to sit and wait for you.

She is standing behind your desk studying a photo that she holds in her hands.

“Put it back.”

She jumps at the sound of your voice, her body turning so that she faces you.

“Put it back, please.”

Her eyes return to the photo of Angel seated on his bike. A grinning Jeyson is seated in front of him, clinging to the handlebars.

“He looks so much like his father.”

You cross the room. Taking the photo, you place it back in its original resting place before dropping your purse onto your desk.

“What do you want?” You ask as you watch step around your desk.

“Is that a way to greet your mother?”

“According to the last time we spoke, I don’t have one.” You recollect as you take a seat. “It’s been...nearly nine years, so my memory might be a little hazy, but I’m pretty sure that’s what you told me.” Your brow furrows as she moves to take the seat across from you. “There’s no need for you to sit. This conversation won’t last long. I have a meeting in a few minutes. What do you want?”

Your mother’s jaw tightens as she remains standing. Her eyes roll as she speaks. “I take it he didn’t pass along my message.”

“He did pass along your message, actually,” you admit. “Believe it or not, Angel said I should call you and listen to what you had to say. I just chose to do what I’ve done for the past nine years—ignore it. If you’re not going to answer my question, mom, then you can leave.”

“Your father and I want to see our grandson—”

“No.”

She expects more, but your attention has already moved on to the papers you’ve dropped onto your desk.

“See, I told you the conversation wouldn’t last long.”

“Y/N,” your mother objects. “It’s been nearly nine years.”

Your fingers interlaced as you force yourself to take a deep breath. You surprise even yourself as your voice comes out quiet and calm.

“I told you before. I do not want you near my son, and I meant it. I don’t care what excuse you’ve come here to give today. I’m not changing my mind. Your only hope is to speak with his father, and hope he’s more forgiving than I am.”

Aiden stops in the doorway, his eyes widening as he reads the room. He takes a step back but pauses as you give him a warm smile.

“Hi, Aiden! Please tell me you haven’t eaten lunch yet.”

“No,” Aiden clears his throat. His eyes briefly pass to your mother whose gaze remains on you. “I haven’t.”

“Good. Can you order two of whatever you’re having? I’ll pay. We have to go ahead and look over this case.”

Aiden nods as you add, “great. Can you also escort my mother downstairs? She’s ready to leave.”

“I’m sorry for ruining your retreat.”

Aiden’s apology breaks your concentration.

Seated on the floor of your office, Aiden has his back pressed against your desk. His usually polished appearance is disheveled. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the top buttons of his shirt undone. His tie and jacket are discarded on the back of your chair.

His apology is one he has been working himself up to share for the last three hours. Each time he thought of sharing it, he’s backed out. At this point, he’s run out of pointless conversation and has reached the bottom of your takeout container that he took over.

“What are you talking about?”

Aiden’s eyes remain on the chopsticks in his hand.

“Isabela told me not to call you about Tommy,” he clears his throat. He steals a glance in your direction. “She said it should wait until you got back—but as usual—I panicked and called you. Now you’re back early--”

“Aiden, you didn’t ruin my retreat,” you sigh. Your palms rub against your tired eyes. “It was rocky was to begin with.”

The admission silences the office. Aiden nods before opening his mouth.

“So,” you smile as you lightly bump his shoulder with yours. “Please, don’t worry about it. Angel was probably happy you called so he could leave.”

Your gaze returns to the slow-paced printer. Upon learning you were coming home early, Aiden had sent you a text message.

📲: I have some stuff to show you about Tommy.

And by “some stuff” Aiden meant a board. He had stolen one of Samuel’s whiteboards from the conference room. The entire surface is covered in your notes and information from Tommy’s files.

“I can’t believe you did all this while I was gone,” you stare at the board. “Your girlfriend might think you’re spending too much time on me.”

Aiden’s smile is sheepish. “If I had one, I wouldn’t have had time to do this.”

“Well, remind me to find you one because this is amazing.” The tease causes Aiden’s smile to grow. “I’m serious, Aiden. I can’t believe you thought you couldn’t be any help.”

“I didn’t really do anything,” he shrugs, his gaze focused on the paper in his hand. “They’re all your notes, I just organized them.”

His eyes widen, a grin finding his lips as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Call it whatever you want,” you smile. “But I still get to say thank you.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he rubs the back of his neck before glancing over at you. “We’re a team….speaking of...I found this.”

The picture he lifts is not new. It is one you’ve seen before. Your brow furrows as you take in the pregnant woman on display.

“I already know who that is,” you admit. “It’s the girlfriend of—”

“Alexander Maddox.” Aiden nods. “Right. I kept going back to your notes. You had one question. Why was Tommy meeting with Maddox in the first place?”

Your head shakes the confusion on your face prompting the rolling of Aiden’s eyes.

“How is this the answer?”

“You were asking the wrong question.” A mischievous grin slides onto his face as Aiden realizes you’re still not following his train of thought. “I can’t believe I figured something out before you—”

“Oh my goodness, Aiden—”

“When he was arrested, Tommy was carrying a shipment--”

“Yeah, something he shouldn’t have been doing by himself.”

Aiden’s brow arches. “You got a history of drug trafficking I don’t know about?”

“You’d be surprised what you pick up on this job.”

Aiden shakes his head as you motion for him to continue.

“While I was working, I kept thinking back to our conversation at the courthouse,” Aiden continues. “You said Tommy’s smart—"

“He uses people to get what he wants.”

“Exactly,” Aiden grins. He lifts the picture in his hand. “Why would Maddox meet up with someone from a rival club, in the middle of the night, with his pregnant girlfriend in tow if he was threatened by them?”

Aiden doesn’t bother answering the question. Instead, he waits for you to make the connection. The smile on his face remains as your eyes widen.

“Because he was there to make a deal.”

“Exactly!” Despite the smile on your face, Aiden’s face dampens. “...but that’s as far as I got. I don’t really know what made Tommy kill him—”

“Of course you do, Aiden.” Despite your reassurance and the confidence in your voice, Aiden’s expression hasn’t changed. “Your brain just needs a second to catch up. Maddox didn’t keep up his end of the deal. He probably tried to screw Tommy over. Not realizing that Tommy would kill him, girlfriend in tow.”

"Well, now we know why Tommy's been tight-lipped about that night. Probably doesn't want it to get out that he was skimming from the club's business."

The hug you give him brings the same response as before.

“I should help you out more often.” Aiden chuckles as you give him a squeeze.

“Careful,” you tease. “Angel’s not too fond of sharing.”

“Speaking of Angel…” Aiden’s gaze meets yours. “I know you asked me not to say anything to him about Samuel—”

“It’s okay.”

Aiden nods, but he continues. His rambling brings a soft smile to your lips.

“Yeah, but I just...I didn’t want you to think I was okay with what Samuel did.” His words come out quietly as he shakes his head. “The way he talked to you...it wasn’t right. You work harder than anyone here—including him—and for Samuel to do that was fucked up. I didn’t say anything in the meeting, and I should have. So, I just...I told Angel when he asked about it.”

“He would have found out eventually,” you laugh softly. “Besides, now Angel likes you.”

“For real?” The smile on Aiden’s face stretches into a grin as you nod.

A silence falls over the office as Aiden’s head rests against the desk. His brow furrows as your eyes fall to your hands. There is a final question on his mind. One he’s tried to find a way to raise since he started flipping through your notes on Saturday morning.

“Are you pregnant?”

The question lifts your gaze.

Aiden reaches into the pocket of his shirt. Your eyes widen as you take in the white card he produces. It is a card you spent the entire morning trying to find. The scheduled appointment one you have yet to share with Angel.

“It was in the notebook you turned over for me and Samuel to review,” Aiden explains as he passes the card over. “Don’t worry. I saw it before he did...I figured he was the last person you wanted to know.”

Your eyes focus on the date. A week and a half away. The initial scheduling may have been premature, but you couldn’t shake the feeling Angel was right.

“Uh...no—I mean, it’s too early to tell.” You turn the card over before looking up. “I should know by this date, so can you not tell anyone about this? I haven’t even told Izzy...or Angel for that matter. I don’t want to say anything until I’m a hundred percent sure.”

Aiden nods, a soft smile on his lips. “Of course.”

“Thanks.” You allow your head to rest back against the desk. “I don’t want to get Angel’s hopes up too early.”

It was the only thought you’ve had from the moment you woke up alongside Angel that moment. But as you glance back at the card in your hand, you know the truth has nothing to do with Angel. It’s not his hopes that you’re afraid of letting down.

You place the card aside, pulling your knees to your chest. Your gaze drifts to the board before you. The two of you sit in silence, eyes focused on your work. Silently willing your brains to come up with one more revelation before packing it up for the night.

"Alright," Aiden huffs. "I think we've gotten as far as we can get tonight."

HIs brow furrows, a chuckle filling the air as he fingers brush against your arm.

"Didn't take you for a tattoo person."

You glance over at him, following his gaze to the ink on your arm.

"Yeah, well, you've never been dragged to a tattoo parlor with Angel," you laugh. "Now, I try to avoid them at all cost."

"It's pretty cool," he grins, his eyes lingering on the design. "He has one too? Matching?"

"Yep," your eyes roll lightly. "Please don't tease me about teenage decisions."

"I won't," he chuckles. Aiden sits forward, lightly patting your leg before moving to collect the trash.

“Aiden?”

“Huh?” He glances up from the takeout containers in his hands.

“How long was he in Chino?”

“Tommy...uh, hold on.” Balancing the containers in his left, Aiden quickly rifles through the stacks of papers spread across the floor before him. “Says here...he was in Chino for....30 months.”

“Any way we can figure out where he was housed?”

“I don’t know,” Aiden admits as his eyes scan the wrap sheet. “His charges were nothing compared to now. Petty crime, so he wasn’t housed at maximum. Why?”

Once his question is met with silence, Aiden glances over his shoulder at you.

“What’s wrong?” The concern in his eyes slowly morphs to fear as he takes in your expression. “Did I miss something?”

“No, I did.”

“What do you mean?”

Before he can pose the question, you’re already pushing yourself to your feet.

“Go home, okay? It’s getting late—don’t worry about the mess. I’ll clean it up in the morning.”

Although you’ve managed to mask your expression, the trembling of your hands causes Aiden’s brow to furrow.

“You sure?” He objects. He quickly stands, stopping you from grabbing your keys from your desk. “I can send an email about his placement in Chino—”

“No.” Your response comes out more panicked than you want. You quickly backtrack. The reassuring smile you give Aiden not holding the weight it’s meant to. “I’ll do it in the morning. I have to go see Angel.”

“Okay.” Aiden nods. He passes over the sheet watching as you excuse yourself.

Jeyson Reyes sits at the table in the center of the clubhouse, his math homework abandoned. His attention is devoted to the bowl of skittles in front of him. He has spent that past minute carefully picking out his least favorite skittles—the yellow.

“Word on the street is you got a birthday coming up,” Angel accepts another yellow skittle before popping it in his mouth. Jeyson’s eyes widen as he briefly pauses the task at hand. Angel’s brow furrows as his eyes study his son’s face. “How old are you turning again? Five—”

“Nine!”

“Nine? Nah--that can’t be right.” Angel shakes his head as he takes in Jeyson’s broad grin. “I don’t believe you—”

“Uh-huh,” Jeyson nods, dropping another skittle into his father’s palm. “I turn nine in seventeen days.”

“Shit—”

“That’s another dollar in the swear jar,” Jeyson reminds him as he passes Angel another skittle.

“I know,” Angel chuckles. He rests back against his seat, his eyes lingering on your son as he quietly admits. “I can’t believe you’re that old.”

Jeyson’s nose scrunches. “I’m not old.”

“Yeah, you are,” Angel laughs, his hand brushing against Jeyson’s hair. “You’re almost an adult.”

“I’m still a kid,” Jeyson giggles as his eyes lift to meet his father’s. “You’re old—”

“Hey—I am not old,” Angel retorts, the feigned look of offense causing your son’s giggles to increase.

Jeyson reaches over pointing towards the beard Angel’s hand passes over. “You have gray hair—lots of it.”

His father’s gaze narrows as Jeyson’s grin stretches as far as his cheeks will allow. As if to soften the blow, Jeyson drops two more skittles into Angel’s palm before eating one of his own.

Angel’s smile remains as he watches Jeyson redirect his attention back to the bowl of skittles on the table.

“Have you thought about what you want for your birthday?"

Jeyson shrugs. “Not really.”

“Not really?” Angel’s brow raises. “You’re counting down to your birthday, but you don’t know what you want?”

Jeyson lets off a second shrug, his concentration on the skittles causing Angel’s brow to furrow.

“You know we’re gonna end up getting whatever it is you want,” Angel smiles as he ruffles Jeyson’s hair. “You’ve been doing everything you’re supposed to in school.”

Despite Angel’s words, Jeyson’s gaze remains down. He chews on the inside of his cheek. The action causes his father to slide the bowl of skittles aside.

“What’s up? You don't think you can get what you want?”

Nearly a minute passes before Jeyson answers Angel’s question. His voice comes out quietly.

“I want you to stay at home.”

Angel’s brow furrows. The response is not what he’s anticipating. “I am staying at home.”

“My home, not yours.” Jeyson clarifies. “Where mom and I live.”

“That is where I’m staying.”

“You didn’t Friday. Is it because you don’t like living with us?” He asks quietly

Angel’s eyes drift shut, the tightening of his throat causing him to shake his head.

“Your mom and I—” Angel’s voice trails off as Jeyson looks up from the table to meet his gaze.

It is a conversation neither of them has breached before. One Jeyson has found himself thinking about more and more. One Angel knew he would eventually have with his son, but he hadn’t anticipated it to be now. He had also hoped you would be around to help him.

“You having two homes has nothing to do with me not wanting to live with you—or your mom. You don’t remember it, you were too little, but your mom and I...we used to fight a lot.” Angel continues. “I wasn’t nice to her, and I made her cry a lot. So I had to leave. I didn’t want to leave you or her, but I also didn’t want to hurt you or your mom. It took me a while to learn how not to do that. Friday...I couldn’t come home because I didn’t want to fight with your mom.”

“You still made her cry.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Leaning over, Angel brushes his hand against Jeyson’s hair. His touch forces Jeyson’s eyes to meet his. “You know how you and your friends get mad at each other? Sometimes we get mad at the people we love because we don’t see things the same way. But your mom being mad at me has nothing to do with you. Okay? Just because your mom and I might fight, it doesn’t mean I’m leaving.”

The soft smile Angel offers him prompts Jeyson to give him one in return.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m staying with you and your mom or at my house. I love you. That’s not ever gonna change. Never has, never will. Got it?”

Jeyson nods, his smile growing as Angel places a kiss against his skin.

As Jeyson's attention returns to the bowl of skittles, Angel reaches into his kutte. He pulls out the white envelope that he found in the mailbox upon your return home.

He studies the unfamiliar handwriting. Printed in block letters are his name and your address. His gaze passes over the generic American Flag stamp and date pressed into the right corner. The lack of a return address causes him to flip the envelope over.

Angel waits until he comes to a stop outside of the clubhouse to give the envelope a second glance. Tearing the side, he reaches inside pulling out a single index card. The handwriting matches that printed on the envelope.

An anniversary gift for the Old Lady.

Angel tips the envelope. His stomach tightens as the chill of a silver chain hits his palm. The buzzing of his phone in his kutte pocket goes ignored. He doesn’t need to unravel the chain to know who the necklace belongs to. He has looked at the necklace nearly every day since he was eighteen.

The continued vibration of his phone forces an irritated “fuck” from Angel’s lip before he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“What?”

“This is a prepaid call from Thomas Flores, an inmate at the state correctional facility. All phone calls are subject to recording and monitoring. To decline the call, please press nine. To accept the call and all charges that will be incurred, please press one.”

Angel doesn’t remember committing the act of acceptance. A moment later, Tommy’s voice echoes through his receiver. For a man locked inside the walls of Stockton, his voice is calm and lighthearted.

“Damn, it’s been a minute since I’ve heard your voice, Reyes. Can you believe I missed it?”

“The feeling isn’t mutual,” Angel growls, his grip tightening around his phone. “How’d you get this number?”

“Come on, Reyes--give me some credit. I got it the same way I got your address,” Tommy chuckles. “I had to make sure to wish you a happy anniversary. It just passed, right? What is it six—no—seven years? Hopefully, the two of you are doing better these days—”

“Why are you calling?”

“That’s the funny thing,” Tommy sighs, the smile on his face stretches into a grin. “See, I was in my cell a few weeks back, thinking to myself—got a lot of time for that nowadays—and naturally, that led to me thinking of you. And how I missed my old cellmate. Then I remembered...you owe me a favor.”

“A favor? I don’t owe you shit--”

“That’s not how this shit works. I think the person who’s owed a debt gets to decide when it’s paid in full.” Tommy pauses, the silence from Angel’s end allowing him to continue. “Funny thing, I wouldn’t have even thought to call on you for this, but you made a simple mistake all those years ago, Angel. You talked too much...If you don’t want someone to use your Achilles, you don’t share it.” Angel’s brow furrows as Tommy’s words slowly begin to sink in. “Now, you know I’m not a religious man, but I bet you can imagine how good I felt when I realized that God, himself, dropped Y/N into my lap. What are the odds that she and I got brought together? Huh? It’d be a shame to let this God-given opportunity go to waste, don’t you think?”

“What the fuck do you want, Tommy?”

“A lot of things,” Tommy admits. “A turn with your pretty wife for starters. The way you put it, she’d do just about anything for you--”

“She’s not doing anything for you--”

“That’s okay,” Tommy chuckles. “You’ve always had my back when it came down to the wire.”

Angel’s head shakes. “No—Fuck this—I’m hanging up. I told you that night. One and done—”

“I take it you got my gift,” Tommy ignores Angel’s declaration. “And...judging by the unnecessary hostility I’m sensing in your voice, you took a trip down South recently.”

“I want what you took—”

“And you can get it back—scout’s honor.” The sincerity in Tommy’s voice would fool a stranger, but not Angel. “After you help me out one last time. For old times sake.”

“I’m not helping you do shit.”

“Damn,” Tommy sighs. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

“And you’re gonna leave her alone. Come up with an excuse, I don’t care. You’re finding a new attorney—”

“No can do, Reyes. See, I don’t benefit by losing her.” Tommy explains. “Unless you wanna consider my proposal. Last time I’m offering. I think you’ll find my way is the easiest—for everybody involved.”

A silence falls over the line. The trembling of his hands tightening Angel’s grip on his cellphone.

“Alright, well, my time is almost up,” Tommy yawns. His eyes pass to the clock overhead. “Plus, I know it was a lot to dump on you, so I'll give you the night to mull it over. Tell your lady I said thanks for visiting me today.”

Angel’s continued silence brings a grin to Tommy’s face. His chuckle fills this receiver.

“You haven’t told her yet….Tell me, what do you think she’s gonna say when your secret gets out? Do you think she’s gonna stick around this time? If that shit gets out, you’ll be facing more than some 18-month stint in Chino, Reyes. You’ll be facing some real-time. Ask your baby brother how that shit sits with you. All it’ll take is some rumors about the location of a missing state’s witness to start swirling...evidence anonymously getting dropped into the hands of the right people...then you and I just might be sharing a cell again.”

“Trust me, you don’t want that shit to happen.”

“Maybe...maybe not...only time will tell.” Tommy sighs. The calmness of his voice is the opposite of the feeling causing Angel to force out an unsteady breath. “Do me a favor, check with your old lady on how to get on my visitation list. I think you owe me a visit, make the shit quick, Reyes. Maybe she can get them to expedite the paperwork. You got a job to do, and your clock is ticking, homie.”

There is no need for additional words to be exchanged. Tommy hangs up, leaving Angel standing at the end of the driveway. No matter how hard Angel tried to resist—or tried to appear that he was—Tommy knew the hook was set the moment the call began.

When you pull into the clubhouse lot, you find Angel standing at the base of the clubhouse steps.

His eyes meet yours as you park, but he makes no move to meet you. The question is out before you can step around the front of your car.

“Do you know Tommy Flores?”

Angel’s eyes may be on you, but his mind is somewhere else.

“What?”

“Thomas Flores. He was serving time in Chino. Longer than you—thirty months—but you were there the exact same time. Did you hear about him while you were there?” Your question is met with silence. Angel blinks. His brow furrows as he watches you cross the lot. “I know it’s a random question, but Angel it’s really important. Okay?”

It’s common for people to cross paths. Chino is not a prison. It’s smaller than Stockton. Inmates flood in and out like clockwork. That's what your mind can produce in the time it takes you to come to a stop before him.

But it’s the look in Angel’s eyes that tightens your stomach.

It’s a look you’ve only seen once in your life.

Nearly two years ago. A night you hadn't revisited in quite some time.

When Angel had shown up unannounced at your house. This was nothing new.

Only this time, the pounding on your front door had woken you, Jeyson, and nearly half the neighborhood.

Your initial assumption was that he was drunk—it wouldn’t have been the first time Angel had shown up after a few beers and a shitty hookup only to find his way back to you. Begging you to let him stay the night, swearing to plead his drunken case, only to pass out against you the moment you were seated on the sofa.

Only this time—the moment you’d gotten the door open you were crushed by his weight. Angel's grip had been tight. The pressure caused you to wince as his face burrowed against your skin.

For once, you couldn't detect alcohol--just sweat and dirt. His grip had tightened as you tried to move back and take a better look at him.

You didn't get much out of him that night. The most you could get him to do was shower. Which was for the best because, by the time you'd helped him dry off, Angel's adrenaline crashed. He’d passed out in your bed a minute later.

In the morning, he didn’t produce much of an explanation.

"Sorry if I scared you last night," he'd mumbled as he headed to the door. "I know you asked me not to show up—unannounced like that but—I just wanted to see you."

“Yeah,” Angel nods. “I knew him.”

You wait for elaboration, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Angel takes a step back. He finds a seat on the steps, his left hand reaching up to rub his eyes.

“Yeah, I knew him? What the hell does that mean? You knew of him, or you kn—”

“No, I knew—I know him.” Angel releases a sigh, his fist crumpling the envelope he holds. “He was my cellmate.”

“No, he wasn't.” The response is automatic. The laugh you release echoes across the parking lot. The meaning behind Angel’s silence doesn’t fully register. Your brain is still reeling, trying to find a rational explanation to deny his statement and what it means. You shake your head. “No, he wasn’t. That is not fucking possible—“

“Cellblock D. That’s where they house all gang-affiliated inmates. They don’t give a shit if you’re an MC or not. It’s all the same.” Angel quietly explains, his eyes watching the realization begin to sink into your features. “They put you together with guys from other places, knowing you might not have a brother to watch your back if you need protection. Tommy’s cellmate had recently been discharged. So, after intake, I took the open space—“

“Angel, stop. I can’t have you telling me this,” you cut him off. The sight of your widened eyes not deferring Angel’s train of thought. “Do you know what this means for my case? Why couldn’t you just lie to me—”

“Because what I need to tell you is worse.”

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[doyumacy]

RIDE OUT - 8

ʏᴜᴛᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴍᴀʀᴋ ʟᴇᴇ

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴅʀᴀᴍᴀ, ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱᴜɢɢᴇꜱᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴋ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ (ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx. ᴏʀᴀʟ ꜱᴇx ꜰ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍ ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ)  ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ. ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ

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you’re blown away. you have been racing against jisung all this time and you never knew. what kind of sister are you? but most importantly, doyoung wants him dead. once you beat him, his deal will come true and doyoung will hurt him, and you can’t let that happen.

you groan and lean straight. “are you insane, jisung? what the hell were you thinking?!”

“i wasn’t.” jisung murmurs.

“clearly!” you snap back.

“what’s going on? i’m not following…” johnny frowns.

you sigh and jisung stands up, walking around the kitchen. “my friends and i made a bet and the one losing would race in one of doyoung’s races. turns out i’m a hell of a racer and people started following me.”

“are you listening to yourself, jisung?” you look at him. “what you did it’s so stupid!”

“and working for him isn’t stupid too?” jisung glances at you and then at johnny. “both of you work for him, and yet you’re standing here scolding my ass? that’s not very smart either.”

johnny stands up in front of jisung and takes him by his shoulders. “doyoung is a dangerous man, jisung. he’s the last person i want you to get involved with.”

jisung scoffs, removing johnny’s hands. “why can you two do whatever the fuck you want but when it comes to me i’m the stupid little boy?”

“because you are a stupid little boy!” your eyes dart to him. “jisung, listen to me. doyoung wants you dead, he has made it pretty clear and he won’t stop until he gets it done.” you get into johnny and him and cup jisung’s face. “promise me you won’t show up tonight.”

“y/n…” jisung tries to yank himself free from your hands but you grip your touch.

“promise me, jisung.” you clench your jaw.

jisung nods. “okay. i promise it.”

you hug him tightly and hugs you back. you then feel johnny wrapping his arms around you two. “we’re in this together now, okay?” johnny mutter.

“we need to call yuta,” you say.

yuta arrives at your home almost as soon as you hang up the phone. turns out johnny, mark and jaehyun have been ‘working’ for doyoung getting him drugs yuta made, but what doyoung doesn’t know is that yuta is an undercover agent since he doesn’t have any connections with the yakuza. and you want to use that.

yuta comes up with a plan but johnny remotely refuses, saying it is too risky but it might be the only way to help jisung to get out of trouble. but again, johnny forces yuta to come up with something else.

that same night, jisung doesn’t show up at the race and doyoung is enraged and fed up with the games of jwi, in this case, your little brother. he is desperate and takes it out with you spitting different insults and how useless and bad of a racer you are, and as much as you want to slap him, you let it slide because you can’t now back off.

“you’re fired,” doyoung tells you.

“no! wait, doyoung!” you take his arm. “give me two weeks. two weeks and you’ll get it done.”

doyoung yanks himself free and stares at you. “you’ve been saying that for weeks now. i am done waiting, y/n.”

“doyoung, please…” you place your hand on his chest and play with one of the buttons of his black shirt.

doyoung removes your hand from his chest and wraps it around your throat in not the most pleasant way. you whine. “just because i fucked your pretty pussy doesn’t mean you get anything.” he tightens his grip on your neck and you feel the air begin to rush out of you. you try to take his hand away from your neck as he keeps tightening it. “but i might make a little exception with you, since i enjoyed fucking you.”

doyoung releases you and you cough several times. oh god, never in your life have you wanted to beat someone to death until now. he fixes the sleeves of his shirt and then looks at you. “two weeks, y/n. no more.” and he vanishes.

you come back to your house and try to hide the marks doyoung’s fingers left on your neck as much as you can.

you take a shower and change into your pajamas, ready to go to bed when you hear someone knocking on your window. you turn your head to the mulled double hung window and laugh. mark’s sitting outside, wearing all black clothes and a black cap backwards. you walk to the window and open up. he enters your bedroom and closes the window behind him and closes the curtains.

“what? are we back in high school?” you mock him.

mark smiles and puts his arms around you. “it’s past 11 pm, thought it might be rude to knock on the door.”

you wrap your arms around his neck and with your fingers rub his nape. “so polite, wonder what they would say if they see your text messages.”

mark giggles and tugs his hands inside your pajama shirt. “yeah, i have no arguments against that.”

you nod. “so what brought you here, mark?”

“can’t i visit my girl?” he cocks an eyebrow.

“your girl?” you stare at him.

he hums and kisses your neck, moving your hair back. his hands rest on your ass cheeks and pull you closer. “and i also couldn’t sleep.”

“why?” you stroke his back.

“i don’t know, my bed seems too big for me right now,” he kisses you.

“thought you hated sleeping with someone next to you,” you remind him.

mark doesn’t reply and instead he takes you in his arms and puts on the bed and then he lays next to you. you rest your head on his chest and with his right arm, he wraps it around you. you both stay there in silence and you make circles with your index finger on mark’s clothed chest.

you look up at him and raise a brow. mark licks his lips slowly, eyes intent despite lazy comfort between them.

“what are you thinking about so much?” you wonder aloud. your voice is quiet in the silent room.

“you.” he answers with a slow shrug.

“me?” you hum softly. “what about me?”

“how nice your thighs would look around my head.” he replies.

you inhale sharply. "what?"

“i think you should sit on my face.” his playful tone dissipated, his eyes gleaming with something hungry as he looks at you. "in fact, you should do it now."

"mark, my brothers’ bedrooms are next to us," you remind him.

"then you better be quiet," he smiles at you.

"you horny ass," you giggle.

his head is positioned at the top of the bed and he's fast to shove the pillows aside to make room. thank god you left the dim light on. you get up from the bed and strip out of your pajamas pants. mark whistles when notices you're not wearing panties. "no panties huh?"

"she likes to breathe once in a while," you shrug.

mark laughs and you climb back onto the bed. you straddle his hips with ease and he loves at how comfortable you seem on top of him. like you belong there.

“a bit higher.” mark murmurs, hands resting against the back of your thighs as you shift against him.

“huh?” you are in the middle of hiking up your shirt before speaking, your hands stop slightly. mark waits until you pull it off entirely before speaking.

“my face is up here, baby." a lazy smile curls along his lips as he takes your naked form in.

“you're so annoying, mark.” you point out and you attempt to roll your eyes, but the flush in your cheeks and pleased smile hardly makes your annoyance believable.

“come on baby. i want to eat you out so bad. i'm hungry,” mark's tongue swipes against his bottom lip as his gaze locks with you. he tugs at your leg once to get it moving.

“oh, my god.” you breath, as if not quite believing his words.

you move up towards his shoulders. you take your time and it takes some manoeuvring until your knees find their place on either side of mark's head. mark's eyes settle low on your body and he can feel his mouth water at the thought of pressing his lips to you.

you reach out and brace your arms against the headboard above mark. there is still a slight nervousness, hesitation, in you as you move and shift above him. you have never done this. not even with yuta.

his lips were slightly parted, as if waiting patiently to be put to work, and slightly wet from where his tongue kept passing over them in anticipation. he looks half wrecked just with the idea of you on top of him.

a tremble starts in your thighs as you dip your hips slightly. that was the invitation mark needed.

he swipes his tongue slowly against you, barely enough to taste you fully. you let out a gasp of surprise and move backwards. mark's hands curl around your hips and he resists the urge to pull you down fully against him.  

you meet his warm gaze after a moment and he nods at the question there, scruff rubbing insistently against your soft thighs.

“come on, baby. let me feel you good," he lightly bites your thigh.

he closes the distance between you quickly.

“mark ah f-,” you gasp and dig your fingers into the headboard. your hips twitch forwards as mark's lips press kisses against you.

his hands remain splayed out across your thighs, holding you steady as your breathing slowly changes. mark laps his tongue against your folds. his tongue moves lazily as he takes his time taking you apart. 

mark slowly drags his tongue along your slit, stopping on your clit. you let out a noise and your hips tilt further down to put just enough weight on mark. "shhh baby. you're gonna wake up your brothers." he reminds you before taking the bundle of nerves between his lips. a startled cry escapes you and your hips buck against his mouth.

your hips buck forwards and mark lets out a small groan and his tongue moves deeper within you. a few more jerks of your hips and your breathing is coming out in short gasps, your thighs trembling and hand dropping to your waist as if to stop yourself.

you can't.

mark pulls you further down and you go willingly, the sounds of your gasps of pleasure filling your bedroom.

you glance down between your thighs at mark and his eyes are waiting for you. he hums beneath you as he once again passes his tongue along your clit and you gasp. your hand against your waist moves suddenly and buries itself into his hair, gripping it.

“yes baby,” mark moans, pulling away just slightly to suck in more air and to speak. his voice is, amazingly, even more rough, “fuck my face. you taste so fucking good.”

your hips grind against his soft lips, your body desperate to find friction against him. mark shifts, gripping you tightly in his hands as he moves his mouth higher and licks your clit into his mouth. he works against you through your soft whimpers and heavy breathing, feeling your fingers tighten in his hair as he pushes you further over the edge. his lips wrap purposefully around your clit and sucks.

your body shakes and he watches as your orgasm takes hold. his tongue continues to swipe along your slit as you come down to ensure he doesn't miss a drop of you while your thighs tighten against his head.

you drop back into the bed, your arms splayed over your head as you fight to catch your breath. your cheeks are flushed and small wisps of hair are pressed against your forehead from the sweat glistening on your body.

“oh, my god.” you pant and trail towards mark.

his lips are swollen and slick with you and pull into a lazy smile.

“you were right.” you mumbled once you manage to remind yourself how to form actual words for a conversation.

“hmm?” mark hums once he sucks enough air into his lungs. his voice is raspy and hoarse. “right about what?”

“my thighs do look good around your head.”

you watch as mark wipes a few fingers over his mouth to clear it of the wetness there. he brings them to his mouth and drags his tongue along a digit in a long lick. a smirk plays at the edges of his lips at the sound you let out.

“then put them back there.” mark rolls onto his belly and drags himself down to lay between your thighs.

before you could manage a reply, his hands are already hiking your legs up to wrap around his shoulders and his lips are on you once again.

after he eats you out again, it’s your turn to have a taste of him. it’s been a while since you had him in your mouth.

"y/n, oh my god..” mark groans loudly, gripping at your hair.

you release his cock with a pop and smile looking at him. "who's being loud now?"

"don't fucking use teeth," he warns you.

"what you're gonna do about it, baby?" you look at him as you lick the tip of his dick.

"stop the tease and get to work," he stares at you.

"you're so bossy when it comes to you huh," you stroke his cock. "poor baby, he's so needy."

mark groans and when he's about to protest, you take his cock in your mouth savoring the mixture of sweet and the natural liquid that emanated from him. you move your tongue all over the head.

mark throws his head back while you bob your head up and down, your hands slightly squeezing his balls. mark sighs, taking your head in a ponytail and his eyes goes to you. "yes, baby. just like that - ah fuck."

mark cums on your mouth and you swallow him as you look him in the eye. you release him and smile leaning forward for a kiss. he takes the back of your neck and kisses you, tasting himself.

the night continues for both of you. mark ends up fucking you and shoving ine of your panties inside your mout because you couldn’t keep it down.

it’s 2 am when you both are done with each other and you’re now resting, back in the same position before you two got into a heated moment, your head on his chest and his fingers playing with your head. “why can’t you sleep with anyone?”

mark sighs and rests his hand on your back. “bad break up. i got used to her and when she left me i promised myself i would never give someone that much of me.” he makes circles on your bare skin.

you place your chin and look at him. “will you try to sleep with me tonight?”

“i will,” he puts an arm in the back of his head and smiles. “but if you snore i’m leaving.”

“i do not snore, you ass!” you slightly slap him in the chest and he laughs.

you wake up the next morning with mark’s arms around you. he stayed. you smile caressing his arms. you love his skin: it’s always warm and soft.

you both are naked under the covers and you notice your door isn’t locked and knowing johnny, he’s not a guy that tends to knock that often. you carefully remove mark’s arms from your body and he growls, turning on the bed but he continues to sleep. you get up from the bed and lock the door. you then go to the bathroom and take a shower, when you’re back, mark has his black sweatpants back on and he smiles at you.

“morning, beautiful,” he sits on the edge of the bed. “i slept like a baby.”

“i’m glad,” you give him a kiss before going to your closet opening a drawer taking your underwear. “are you hungry?”

mark watches you as you put on your underwear and he nods. “very.”

you roll your eyes. “if you want to get another round of sex, then you need to take me to a proper date first.”

he grins. “we have skipped those steps, haven’t we?”

you nod. he stands up and kisses your cheek. “okay. tomorrow i’ll pick up and you’re gonna have a great date with me.”

“i’m looking forward to it.” you put on a shirt.

mark notices the dark marks on your neck and he frowns. “what happened to you?”

you touch your neck and you curse at yourself. he didn’t notice them last night because you covered them up with makeup but you forgot to do it again.

mark cocks an eyebrow, waiting for an answer. “so?”

you rub your forehead and he blinks. “was it yuta? after you were at my house?”

“what? no no no,” you take his hands. “no. these marks aren’t because of that.”

“then tell me,” his eyes dart to you.

“you promise you won’t freak out?” mark nods slowly. you bite your lip and scratch the back of your nape. “it was doyoung. i uhm kind of working for him?”

“hold on,” he raises a hand, confused. “working for him? have you lost it, y/n.”

“well, i haven’t been the saniest person exactly…” you mutter.

“no times for jokes, y/n.” he glances at you. “doyoung is so fucked up and he won’t even hesitate to hurt you. god, what were you thinking?!”

“you promised me you wouldn’t freak out,” you look at him.

mark scoffs, placing his hands on his hips. “yeah well, sorry if i am fearing for your life.”

you giggle nervously. “well, there’s more.”

“what?”

“you can’t tell anyone, mark. not even your friends,” you ask him. “have you heard about jwi?”

mark nods. “yeah. they’re kind of a legend on the streets. why?”

“jisung is jwi,” you confess to him.

“oh shit.” mark gasps. “wait y/n, what kind of work have you been doing?”

“if i beat him he’d stop racing, but turns out he’s good and i haven’t won,” you explain. “doyoung is now hella upset and he wants him dead and if in two weeks i don’t have results then we both will be dead.”

mark sighs. “why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“because i didn’t know jisung it’s jwi!” you groan. “he’s scared and so am i. yuta has a plan and it’s not bad, but if this doesn’t end the way it should…”

mark cups your face and looks you in the eye. “you have me too, y/n. i’ll help you as well.”

you shake your head. “no, i don’t want you to get hurt.”

he smiles sideways. “i’ll be fine, baby. don’t worry about me.”

you hum placing your hands on his waist and you look at him. “if this ends bad… i just,” you inhale. “promise me you’ll take care of jisung.”

“how about i promise you i’m gonna take care of both of you? sounds better?”

you nod and mark pulls you for a hug kissing your cheek. “everything’s gonna be fine.”

you ask mark to stay and have breakfast together but he has some business to take care of with donghyuck, jeno and yves. you roll your eyes at her name and mark assures you that there’s nothing between them. not anymore. he leaves your house and tells you he’s gonna pick you up at 7 pm the next day.

as you close the front door, you see johnny coming out from the kitchen. he’s holding a bowl with pancake mix. he keeps mixing and stares at you squinting his eyes. you look at him. “what?”

“you know your room is next to mine and this house has thin walls, right?” he cocks his eyebrows, playfully.

“no idea what you’re talking about. we just slept,” you shrug.

johnny hums. “why didn’t you invite him to stay for breakfast?”

“he had some stuff to do,” you reply, walking past him. “can i have some pancakes too?”

“nope,” johnny returns to the counter, placing the bowl on it. “bad bitches don’t get johnny’s pancakes.”

you pout, taking his arm. “please, johnny.”

“say i’m the best brother and i might consider it,” he smiles at you.

you sigh. “you’re the best brother ever.” you roll your eyes. “i want two please.”

“no no,” he shakes his head. “say it again without rolling your eyes. i couldn’t feel it.”

you groan. “why are you like this?”

“i didn’t hear it,” he places a hand behind his ear.

“you’re the best brother ever,” you mutter.

“there you go!” he grins. “still no pancakes for you.”

“fuck off, johnny,” you groan, slightly pushing him.

johnny laughs as he adds more flour to the mix. jisung enters the kitchen rubbing his eye and you look at him. “how did you sleep?” you ask him.

“fine i guess,” he shrugs. “what’s for breakfast?”

“johnny is making us pancakes,” you smile. “want some?”

“yeah. i’m starving,” jisung nods. “can we also have some bacon?”

“sure,” johnny opens the fridge.

later that day, yuta arrives at your house and informs you the interpol has authorized him to manage the operation as he wishes, of course, obtaining results. he also explains jisung in detail what he has to do and how to do it without arousing suspicion.

by noon, johnny, jisung and you are at the patio having a beer and seafood, well, except for jisung. he’s having a coca-cola. johnny brings up yuta’s last birthday, when he turned 25. yuta confesses it was his best birthday and you know why; you had gotten married a day previous his birthday. you lower your head and stare at your hands. he also adds that he had found on you all the family he never got and would always be so thankful for that. jisung mocks remembering jaehyun and taeyong got so wasted they ended up passing out on the grass. johnny and jisung keep adding things that happened that night but you’re quiet. you can feel yuta’s gaze on you.

you finally have the guts and lift up your head meeting his eyes. you feel your cheeks flush and you clear your throat. "i'm going to do the dishes," you murmur.

"i'll help," yuta says, standing up from his chair.

"guests are not supposed to do the dishes," you tell him.

"but i'm not a guest," he winks at you.

johnny clicks his tongue and jisung giggles, covering his mouth. you stare at your brothers and they put a serious face.

once in the kitchen, you wash the dishes and yuta dries them. you’re both in silence and you appreciate it. when you’re done, you take some of the food leftovers and put them inside the fridge. yuta leans against the countertop and watches you.

so much change in your life- people and places and hearts and seasons, and yuta understands, this is but nature. but he never stopped loving you and never left you alone. wherever you go, he was there. he was there with you in every country you were in.

and being honest, yuta never thought of coming back from the 'dead', but he had to finish what he had started even if that meant you knowing he didn't die.

and here he is, a few inches away from you wishing he can touch you and show you how much he missed you.

“so…” he clears his throat. “you and the canadian boy?”

you turn to him. “what about it?”

“are you two a… thing?” he stares at you.

you press your lips together. “yeah, it’s new, but yes.”

yuta slowly nods. “well, i hope he’s a good loser.”

you frown. “what do you mean?”

yuta smiles sideways and approaches you, he leans and kisses you close to the lips. "i'll be in touch.” he whispers in your ear. “thanks for the food.”

you’re speechless. your body is frozen and all you can do is replay over and over what just happened. your fingers stroke where he kissed you and you sigh, your heart skipping a beat.

a whistle brings you back to reality and you shake your head. you see johnny throwing a wrapper in the garbage can. “dear sister, you’re so fucked up.”

“don’t say a word.” you leave the kitchen.

(...)

“found the motherfucker’s place,” taeil tells doyoung.

doyoung gives his attention to the red haired. “where?”

taeil tosses him his phone and doyoung sees the picture of the house. he squints his eyes tilting his head. he has seen that house before, but where?

“the green subaru isn’t there, but my contact told me he lives there,” taeil adds.

“does he live alone?” doyoung inquiries.

“nope,” taeil replies, fixing his suit jacket. “two more people live there.”

doyoung swipes to the right and he sees a picture with better lighting. he notices a car he has seen many times and swipes again. his gaze fixes on a tall guy with faded fluffy pink hair he has never seen before and then on you.

of course.

doyoung remembers that house. it’s your house. and the guy next to you in the picture is your brother.

doyoung clenches his jaw and grips at taeil’s phone. “no wonder why she got into your pants. she was just doing some time.”

“fucking bitch,” doyoung says between his teeth and throws the glass vase on the table to the floor. “she has been playing me all this time. she fucking knew who the motherfuker is!” he takes a deep breath. “i’m gonna kill her. both of them.”

doyoung stands up and growls. taeil locks his phone and places it on the glass table. “do as you think is more convenient for the business.” taeil looks at him. “but finish them.”

“oh i will,” doyoung stands in front of the big window in his penthouse, admiring the view. he then tilts his head. “is yangyang still in town?”

“yep,” taeil answers. “want me to call him?”

“yes.”

[to-hell-and-beyond]

“Wish I Was Moon”

Hawk x Reader

Requested: Yes : No

Request: Hi, I love your writing. I was wondering if you could write a Hawk x reader? Maybe using prompts #8 and #11 from you Cobra Kai angst list. Where the reader is insecure and thinks Hawk likes Moon and not her. - Anon

Summary: You wish you were Moon but sadly not all wishes come true. That’s until you find the familiar handwriting of the boy you love...

Words: 1124

You never really got those songs about loving someone who loves someone else. But yet here you were listening to “Heather” by Conan Gray. Except you didn’t wish you were Heather, no you wished you were Moon. You had liked Eli for a long time and when he became Hawk your feelings seemed to double. You had grown to love the confidence that was around him whenever he had that mohawk.

You looked outside you window to see Hawk and Moon. They were flirting tougher and talking right near his bike. Anger grew inside you, rage wanting to pour out. You had been there for him, where was she? Was she there when ever he got bullied? No, but Y/n was.You watched as she waved him goodbye and left. He smirked before going right to his phone.

Hawk: Wanna go check out a movie?

Usually when you would get a text from him you would be ecstatic. Especially if it was one where he wanted to go to the movies, you almost sometimes thought of it as a date. But this time you were feeling different emotions. You were jealous of Moon, why would he even like you if he could have her? 

Y/n: Shure.

What was the worst that could happen if you said yes? You knew one of these days he would forget about you like he did with Demetri. That he would be done with you and drive in the sunset with the Moon. Years ago you would never think this would happen. Guess you should never take anything for granted. 

You were lucky that the bus wasn’t that crowded as you got off waiting for Hawk. You looked at your notifications on your phone to see if your favorite Tumblr Blog had updated. Sadly they had not, so you put your phone away as you waited, and waited, and waited.

You heard the familiar laugh of Moon as you turned around. Standing there was Hawk and Moon flirting. One hand was holding his helmet and the other one was on her shoulder. At that very moment you felt your heart break. Tears formed in your eyes as you watched the couple, wishing you could be Moon.  Hawk waved her goodbye as he walked up to you.

“Hey Y/n! Ready to check out that movie?” He asked as he winked. His smile fell as soon as he saw your face. The tears in your eyes and the deep frown you wore.

“I never stood a chance, did I?” You asked as your hands turned into a fist. You were so done. Done with loving him, down with your self pity. You were so done.

“W-what? What are you talking about Y/n?” He asked all confused as you took deep breaths trying not to break out in sobs in the middle of the street.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” You choked out as the look of horror spread on his face. Little did you know he wanted to come here and ask you out. Moon was just helping him out and besides, she was with Piper.

“You got it all wrong Y/n.” He told you as you pushed past him and began to walk away. You didn’t need him, and you for shure didn’t need his lame excuse. He likes Moon and that was that. There was nothing you could do to change it, no matter how hard you tried.

You cried yourself to sleep that night. You tried not to give him the satisfaction of your tears but you couldn’t stop yourself. He had brought you down to your all time low…

“Y/n?” Your parent asked as they pushed the door open. You looked up at them as you whipped the tears off your face.

“A boy dropped this off for you.” They then handed you a white envelope with your name on the back of it. You knew that handwriting, there was only one person in the world that wrote peoples names like that.

You stared at it for a while, wondering whether or not you should open it. It took a long time for you to figure out what you wanted to do but in the bed you decided to open it. He deserved to be heard no matter how hurt you were.

Dear Y/n,

I hope you’re doing well. Shit that sounds too weird. Um, I hope you’re doing well, you didn’t look to swell when you left. Jesus, am I trying to sound like a freaking 50 year old? Anway I just wanted to tell you the truth. Me and Moon are not dating. You see, the reason I brought you to go see that movie was to tell you I like you. Like, Like you. God that sounds Corny. Anway, just give me a call when you can.

-Hawk

Tears hit the page as you read over the letter once again. You felt so stupid. Why haven’t you seen this earlier? Why did you have to jump to conclusions? Well now was not the time to feel  sorry so you got on your phone and dialed the familiar number. The sounds of it ringing echoed through your room until Hawk picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hey Hawk, it’s me.” You said into your phone.

“Hey Y/n! Guess you got the letter?”

“Yah I did…”

“How about we meet up near the old skatepark?”

“Ok, see you then.” You hung up before grabbing your bag. The old skatepark was on the southside. It was the worst place in the West Valley because of its numerous gangs. Some gang put a bomb threat so no one ever goes there. Just teengaers who whant to hang out from time to time.

“Hey.” You turned around to see Hawk standing there, hands in his pockets. 

“Hey.” You greeted as the both of you stood in awkward silence. It was never this silent when the two of you were around each other, but the events of yesterday had changed you both.

“I’m sorry that I jumped to conclusions!” You apologized, as you said it very fast. He chuckled before coming closer to you.

“It’s ok Y/n.” The both of you stood in silence, wondering who should make the next move.

“Do you wanna go see a movie?” Hawk asked and you laughed. This would be one funny story to tell in the future.

“Shure.” You agreed and the both of you walked towards the movie theater laughing and joking around like you always do. You too were back to your usual, maybe not friends but maybe something more. Guess jealousy had its ways. You made a mental note to apologize and thank Moon later.

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Huan x female airbender Part Three (last part)

Part one here

Part two here

Tagged: @feitansrisingsun​ @sirkekselord​ @sillytimetravelcomputer​ @linrailme​  I tagged people who asked for a part three :) 

----

You and Huan travel to the firelord’s palace for his appointment with firelord Izumi but another firelord decides to crash your appointment...following the meeting you and Huan get into an argument that ends the trip in a way you did not expect

You and Huan arrived in the firenation a week later and you grinned as Huan stared at everything like a tourist. Wanting to impress him you took the flashy route home to where your mother was waiting. It was the first time Huan had met her and you knew he was nervous given your dad’s attitude to him but he needn’t have been. Your mom had heard all your stories about Huan and greeted him with a large hug as if he was already family, sincerely congratulated him on his appointment with the firelord and enquired after his favourite meal so she could make it for him all within a minute of meeting him. Huan saw where you got your kindness from.

You were slightly worried your small fire nation home would seem quaint in comparison to Huan’s mansion but he seemed oddly entranced by it. You saw him examining everything curiosly, from the handprints on the wall from when you decided to paint the wall when you were 3 and your dad joined in to the bizarre overgrown flower maze your dad called a garden. As Huan was looking around the *kitchen* that was really more of a culinary laboratory for you mom to experiment with new recipes you worried compared to his efficient home this would all be odd to him. You watched his face for any sign of confusion or dislike but couldn’t read his expression. When Huan held up a cup you’d made out of clay when you were 8 you burst “so what do you think?”. “Honestly I think your clay modelling needs work” he joked and you smiled “no of my home...will it be okay for you? I know it’s not Zafou but...”. “Not Zafou? y/n your homes lovely!”. “But you don’t think it’s....” you hit your head on plans your father had hung from the ceiling and frowned “messy and disorganised?”. You knew Huan’s father kept all his research in his laboratory, not on the living room ceiling. Huan smirked and shook his head “no i like all this because it’s so you” he smiled “the warm colours! The personal touches crammed everywhere! The fancy artifacts used as vases” Huan smirked noticing the firenation vase your father had been given which your mom used to hold cooking utensils “it’s the exact embodiment of you I love it” Huan finished and you blushed. “Well that’s...not what I was expecting” you commented and Huan smiled “I can tell by how red you’ve gone, I like when I make you blush”. You blushed even deeper and Huan laughed making you roll your eyes. “Come on i’ll show you your room” you said attempting to distract him but Huan continued chuckling as he followed you upstairs.    

Given the fact the meeting was early tomorrow morning you ate and got an early night before setting out for the palace. You and Huan gave your names and were taken through so many coridoors you lost count before eventually being shown into a room with a desk and some sofas. "Wow this place is...". "I know, i thought you were rich" you smirked and Huan smiled but you could tell he was nervous. "Don’t worry it'll be fine, if Iroh recommended it i bet the firelord's all for it". "Have you ever met her before?" Huan asked and you shrugged "a few times at fire nation parties, my dad and her were friends as kids, then he mentored her son Iroh when he joined the army. Iroh was always around our home, he actually babysat me as a kid". Huan paused "the future firelord was your babysitter?". You paused before nodding "i guess, he was always just Iroh to us...his parents wanted him to live as much like a normal teenager as possible so he'd babysit me once a month, kind of hard to think of someone as a prince when they make you food and play doll houses with you". Huan smirked and you smiled "but i’ve met firelord Izumi quiet a few times, and firelord Zuko and Mai once or twice at really formal events". Huan nodded slightly reassured and you touched his arm "it'll be okay i promise". Huan wanted to point out how you had no way of knowing for sure but he didn’t, he just smiled and put a hand over your hand on his arm.

The door opened and you both tensed. You jumped up turned to the leader of the fire nation "Firelord izumi" you said bowing low and Huan followed your lead. "Thank you but there is no need for that" she called "you are my guests" she said showing you a warm smile. You smiled back and she stepped closer to you both "y/n it is so lovely to see you again, how are you parents?". "They are well thank you ma’m" you smiled. “Your father an airbender...I bet he’s making a unique mark on the air nation”. “He is” you laughed “my uncle Tenzin is not too pleased with him”. Izumi smiled fondly "That sounds just like your father” before she turned to Huan “and how are you Huan? We haven’t had the pleasure of meeting before but my son was very impressed with you, how is your mother?". "My mother?" Huan asked "you know her?". "Well i haven’t see Su since we were children but i am fond of her" she smiled "you know my parents and your grandparents were close friends don’t you". You and Huan nodded "of course". Izumi smiled "that is why when my son told me about you Huan I knew I had to meet you. I've been wanting to freshen up the place and who better than such close friends?". You and Huan were slightly speechless but Izumi smiled "so please sit and we will discuss what i have planned". You had just gotten into the plans and areas Izumi wanted art work for when the door opened. Deespite neither of you having been around him much you both recognised the former firelord on sight.  "Firelord Zuko" you and Huan gasped and you both rushed to stand and bow. "No no! You are my oldest friends children" he smiled "you do not bow to me". You and Huan blushed and smiled. "It is so nice to see you both here" he smiled coming to stand right in front of you. He searched your faces and smiled "y/n you look just like Aang but I see the hint of Sokka and Katara in you too and Huan....well you just eminate Toph energy" he grinned "it is so nice to see you both, it’s like having a mini Aang and Toph in the palace again..i am so pleased our bloodlines are still linked together". You and Huan smiled glancing at one another "it seems they always have a having of intertwining" you commented and Zuko laughed. "That they do! Now Izumi please continue" Zuko said taking a seat “pretend i’m not even here”. You and Huan smirked at the very idea and Izumi smiled fondly before turning back to your both “so the question isn’t if we want you but when can you start Huan?”.

---

You walked down the palace steps an hour later a buzz about what had just happened. Huan had been hired to comission the palace! The palace! Izumi had given him almost full artistic freedom and a mass amount of money and resources. She had set him no time limit, her only condition was she wanted to announce him as her royal artist and keep him in her books for future works. It was an amazing first job as an artist and more than many got in a lifetime. You were chatting away about how proud of Huan you were when he stopped walking and grabbed your hands. You looked at him confused as Huan grabbed you and kissed you. Huan never liked PDA or being overly affectionate but here he was kissing you infront of the whole fire nation. It wasn’t a quick kiss either, it was the longest kiss you’d ever had and Huan had initiated it. You finally seperated for breath and Huan looked at you "thank you" he smiled "for getting me here, for being my girlfriend, for coming into my life" he smiled stroking your cheek "i...you..". You smiled Huan’s energy running low and took his hand "i know". Huan smiled at you gratefully and pulled you into his chest hugging you. You wrapped your arms around him slotting into him and smiled. You looked up and noticed huan was bright red which was hard with his tanned skin but none the less adorable. "Come on" you smiled seperating from him and tugging his hand "my mom will want to hear the good news!".

Your mom was thrilled and said you should celebrate. You agreed and took Huan to one of the best resturants in the capital. You covered the bill, despite the fact Huan was filthy rich, and just enjoyed treating yourselves ordering everything and anything you wanted. You’d both dressed nicely and you were determined to make this a special occasion and it became one...but for reasons you weren’t expecting.

Huan loved when you dressed up but also couldn’t help but feel nervous or lesser beside you. He knew he was punching dating you but that was most apparent when you went places looking stunning and Huan wore all black or dark green floor length outfits. It was more noticable you were an odd match in moments like this and although you never seemed to notice Huan knew that couldn't be said for other people. Case in point, on your way home you were walking hand in hand back to your house and passed some men. Huan saw their eyes fall on you in that dress and sure enough their heads turned. They were so busy staring at you they didn’t even notice Huan’s glares for a few seconds. When they noticed him they did a double take at your joint hands, clearly thinking the two of you didn’t match. Huan glared at them his muscles tightening and you felt his arm contract. "Huan?" you asked glancing at where he was looking and saw he was staring at some men. "Huan?" You repeated "are you okay?". Huan nodded snapping his head back around "i’m fine". You frowned seeing Huan was angry but didn’t want to press it out in the open.

You got home and found your mom was out meaning you had the house to yourself. You and Huan settled in your room and you took off your jewellery and shoes while watching Huan worriedly. He hadn’t said a word since those men and was just sat staring into space as he expanded his metal bracelet and back again. You frowned and now in private decided to approach the topic. "Huan?" you asked laying a hand on his arm "are you okay?". Huan sighed but nodded "i’m fine". "Because you seem kinda...". "It’s nothing" he said but he’d raised his voice and you frowned "what did those men do?". Huan sighed "it’s not just them it’s everyone". You frowned "but those men must’ve done something to make...". "Yes they did but they’re not the only ones" Huan sighed "everyone does what those guys do when they see us together". You paused sensing this wouldn’t be good but still had to ask "and what’s that?". "They stare, mainly at you first and then they notice me there too and do a double take that you’re even with someone like me, i see them question it on their face, how is he with her?". You touched Huan’s arm again but he shook his head turning away from you "no i get it, i don’t need pity y/n i ask myself that too". “Huan but i...”. “Yeah you like me” Huan sighed “but that doesn’t change the fact you shouldn’t, we just don’t match! We’re complete opposites and it makes me wonder how long before you’ll find someone better and...”. “Huan!”. “No it’s okay honestly I’m just pleased we had this much time together”. "That’s enough" you snapped and Huan’s gaze shot back around confused to hear you raise your voice "what?". "I usually don't say anything because i know you’re just a realist but i won’t let you talk about yourself this way Huan!". Huan paused "but it’s true". "No you think it’s true because of what we’ve been taught but it’s not! Looks don’t count for shit Huan! Some people might think we look odd together but i don’t care, why would i care? I think you’re amazing, smart, funny, hot and care about me...why would i care what anyone else says or thinks? All i care about is what you think of us and I don't want you ever feeling like you have something to prove to me Huan, ever! In my eyes you’re amazing and i see you that way, i see how lucky i am to have you and when i look at you i just want to..." you trailed off and seeing the way Huan was looking at you just kissed him. Huan kissed you back but you could tell he was still hesitant. "You really don’t see how out of my league you are?". You shook your head not moving your face away from his "not at all, were equal you and i, i like you and you like me, what else matters?". "Nothing" Huan agreed and kissed you again. You smiled and kissed him again "you're incredible Huan, you need more confidence, if you could only see yourself how i see you" you sighed and Huan stared up at you "you're just perfection" and kissed him again. Usually you’d break away pretty early on but you didn’t want to this time and neither did Huan. Things progressed further than they ever had but Huan hesitated as you didn't show a sign of wanting to stop. "Y/n are you sure you want to...with me?' you paused but nodded blushing "yes but if you aren’t ready then that’s okay..." you started when Huan kissed you pushing you back down "no i just wanted to make sure you weren’t just doing this for...". You flipped Huan and pushed his shoulders down "i’m doing this because i want to, not because i want to make you feel better or because i feel bad, but because i find you incredibly attractive and i want this". Huan redenned but his eyes sparked “okay”.

***

"Do you believe me?" you asked Huan afterwards and he nodded "yes". You smiled against his chest as his arms tightenned around you. "Good" you smiled kissing his neck, the only part of him you could reach without having to move. "You’re brilliant Huan and i am completely infatuated with you". Huan nuzzled his head against yours and sighed happily “I am too”.

The next morning

You woke up with a jolt and Huan woke up too feeling you jump. "What’s wrong?" he asked and you smiled "nothing...i just wondered where we were". Huan smiled seeing how good you looked beside him and for once thought you fit. He kissed your forehead and smiled "we’re in heaven". You laughed and relaxed back against him "no but we did have an undistrubed night which is odd, my mother must’ve assumed you were in your room and luckily didn’t check". Haun nodded "lucky, very lucky". You grinned and pulled the covers over you two. "Are you cold?" Huan asked and you shook your head "no this way i can forget where we are, it’s just us". Huan smiled and nodded "that’s all i need".

When you finally couldn’t hide anymore you sauntered downstairs for breakfast while Huan went to shower. You mother was sat at the table and greeted you warmly. You ate together chatting happily before your mother smiled “ow i have news! Your father’s coming home tomorrow". You smiled pleased and went to ask when his ship was getting in when your mom continued. "So make sure Huan stays in the guest room tomorrow night". You almost chocked on your breakfast and swallowed with some effort "i’m sorry?". "I’m not stupid y/n" your mother said raising an eyebrow "i know Huan didn’t sleep in his own bed last night". You paled "we...we were...". "It’s okay, you’re both adults just be safe, i trust both of you". "You do?" you asked and your mother nodded "i’ve seen the way he is around you, he’s a sweet boy and i trust him with you, i like him for you". Huan walked into the room and saw the way you and your mother stopped as he entered. "What?" he asked startled and you smiled shaking your head "nothing" and just smiled up at him. You took a moment to just admire Huan in your kitchen, his long dark hair still damp moving as he talked. His goregous green eyes watching you as he pulled a signature frown at your behaviour. Huan was obviously very confused but ignored it and sat down next to you. You entwined your hands and Huan smiled "what’s gotten you so happy?". You sighed and shook your head "nothing in particular". Huan raised an eyebrow but smiled and held your hand tighter.

Epilogue

Huan stayed in the fire nation with you for many years to complete the palace renovation and afterwards decided to settle down in the fire nation permanently. He found the fire nation a perfect place for his modern art and was soon one of the biggests influences of your generation. You carried on your air bending, working as a representative of the air nation for the fire nation along side your father. You and Huan rented an excellently furnished and decorated apartment in the city and later when your duties reduced moved out to the colonies. Neither of you wanted children and instead invested in many cats and dogs, which you loved as dearly as children. Your home was constantly bustling with your and Huan’s family, your father was always popping, your cousins visiting whenever they got annoyed by one another and atleast one of Huan’s siblings was always around. You loved feeling like part of a big family but also love the quiet days where it was just you and Huan curled up infront of the fire. Huan never questioned your match again because he couldn’t. He knew something that felt this perfect had to be just that, perfect.

____

So this is my last part of this Huan series! Thanks for all your support, I never intended to do a part two let alone a whole series so thanks for encouraging me! I hope you like it :) 

[mcsplaced]

𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖆 𝖆𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 . . .

Not everyone can say they’ve been to the Big Apple, but  [AGLAIA ALDERSON], a [TWENTY-FIVE] year-old [CIS WOMAN] has lived in [BEDFORD-STUYVESANT, BROOKLYN] for [TWO WEEKS]. This is the city of dreams and [SHE/HER] knows it, because they came to NYC to be a [BARTENDER]. Living in the city means they meet all kinds of people, but everyone always seems to think they look like [LEILA GEORGE]. They even got away with free cab fare once because of it!

hello, all ! i’m lauryn, 21, my pronouns are she/her, and i currently reside within the cst timezone. i’ve been tumblr rping on and off for about 8 years now, and aglaia has been a muse of mine that i’ve frequently played for about two years. here’s is my first muse of this rp, aglaia ! her about is listed here, her statistics are listed here, and her plotting page is listed here. if you’d like to claim any of the plots on that page or do some other plotting, shoot me a message ! i prefer discord, but i’m open to messaging on tumblr. my discord is limes#6826. i look forward to writing with everyone !

TRIGGER WARNING — child abuse ( mental and physical ), mentions of drug usage and alcoholism, mentions of knives, familial death ( brother )

( tw : mention of child abuse ) aglaia alderson was born in ojai, california, to a rather large family. aggie had 3 older brothers, two of which exuded the same nonchalant, neglectful behavior that her parents did. 

( tw : mention of physical and mental child abuse ) the family lived in poverty with both parents struggling to hold down a job due to alcoholism. their father would rarely strike them, though it did happen every now and then when he had a bit too much to drink and passed the line of conscious thought. aggie was able to compartmentalize both the physical and emotional abuse that she did receive. ( end tw )

aglaia and the brother born a year before her, silas, grew very close. with little else to do, the pair played mind games with others, exhibiting manipulative behaviors before either of them were double digits in age; this continued well into their early teens. 

( tw : mention of knives, familial death ) around the time that aggie turned 16, she and her brother attended a house party together. it was here that her brother got into a serious fight and ended up being repeatedly stabbed in front of aggie. the trauma was only really felt by aglaia; her family did not seem phased by the occurrence, shedding very little tears at silas’s death. ( end tw )

( tw : mentions of drug usage ) this event made aggie far more apathetic than she was previously, and she departed from her home soon after he was buried. the 16-year old ventured from town to town, hitching rides from others and stealing from grocery stores with the occasional holdup at gas stations. after one month of this, aggie was able to buy a car and spent most nights sleeping in it while she continued her adventures. during these years, aglaia spent most of her time experimenting with hard drugs. ( end tw )

at the age of 20, aglaia made her way to bedford-stuyvesant, brooklyn. upon arriving in brooklyn, aglaia met someone that fascinated her. it wasn’t long that aglaia resided in brooklyn; the two made off to commit a string of robberies. 

the year and a half that they spent doing this was the best year of aglaia’s life, who reveled in the thrill that their adventures offered. the two got sloppy and even committed low-security bank heists, and this ended up backfiring on them. 

aglaia was apprehended by police as her partner made away with their money; she was sentenced to three years at a federal prison camp. the prison wasn’t awful, as it was minimum security with few regulations and some amenities. aglaia had plenty of time to sit within her anger, reflecting on her life and how she got to where she was. she decided then and there that she could not trust a soul. she was likely delusional, but she felt certain that she would do great things in life and make lots of money along the way. aglaia spent a lot of her time planning future jobs to pull when she felt safe doing so. 

upon release, aggie was somewhat of a new person: selfish still, but cold and uncaring. she contacted her former partner, finding out that they had left to stash their money. aggie felt nearly whole being reunited with her money but found that greed overpowered her momentary satisfaction. aglaia was propositioned by them to move in with them until she could get back on her feet. she began bartending and plans to pool her money until she can move somewhere along the west coast and continue her criminal expeditions. aggie feels empty inside, lacking excitement in her life even though she indulges in danger whenever possible.

important information about her personality can be found above in her about, and basic statistics can be found above linked to her statistics.

[jokertrap-ran]

(未定事件簿) 莫弈 [剧情: 第2章] [Tears of Themis] Mo Yi Private Story Translations (Chapter 2-8)

*Tears of Themis Masterlist / Mo Yi’s Masterlist / Mobile Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Mo Yi’s Private Story tag is #Tears of a Personal Psychiatrist. *Chapter 1 can be viewed here!

Location: Mo's Mental Health Research Centre

After settling our conflicting opinions on this, Mo Yi told me that he'd had a new idea on how we could look into the PUA group backing Li Yu.

MC: A new idea! You mean, we don't need to contact Wang Chen anymore?

Mo Yi: Contacting him will of course, still be a necessary step; but considering how the other party has already fixed a target on you…

Mo Yi: Hence, it wouldn't be too appropriate to have you be at the core of this investigation. That's why we're going to be splitting up this time.

Mo Yi: On one hand, you contacting Wang Chen will create the illusion that we've already "taken the bait"; thus, making them relax their guard.

Mo Yi: And on the other hand, I will pretend to be an experienced PUA mentor, entering their group to collect more information and evidence.

He explained each and every word to me with utter seriousness. I don't know if I was just imagining things, but his gaze seemed to turn a lot softer when he looked at me...

MC: ...Will this endanger you?

Mo Yi: Worried for me?

MC: Yes. If it's really as you've deduced earlier, then that means that they've already set their eyes on me.

MC: And if that's the case, then I'm afraid it'll only be a matter of time before they find you while investigating me..

MC: I… I don't wish for you to go through the same experience I did.

Mo Yi: ……

Mo Yi: Don't worry, I'm fine. This bit of danger isn't much at all when compared to the number of things we can get from this in return.

MC: ...Alright then. Dr. Mo, if you ever require my help during your time going undercover, please don't hesitate to ask me for help.

Mo Yi: Since you've already said that; I do actually, in fact, have a couple of things I need your help with.

MC: What things?

Mo Yi: As proof of my "skills", I'll need you to pretend to be a victim of mine and cooperate with me in creating a chat log.

MC: Naturally, of course! Just tell me whatever you want me to reply, straight up, and I'll just comply with your wishes.

Mo Yi: Okay. Also, this time, when you contact Wang Chen-

Mo Yi: You need to follow exactly what I say, as much as possible, regarding every word you exchange with him.

MC: That strict…? Do you perhaps have some sort of plan?

Mo Yi: Simply, a tooth for a tooth, an eye for an eye. Or, I suppose it's called a "back-sided trap" in more popular terms.

MC: A "back-sided trap"? You want to trap him?

Mo Yi: Yes. He has hurt so many women out there; this is simply a mere “Meeting Gift” from me, to him.

Mo Yi: However, if this wasn’t my last resort, I wouldn’t want you talking to him for another minute longer.

He appeared to have muttered something in a low voice, but he was speaking at such a rapid pace that I couldn’t catch whatever he’d said. Before I could decipher what he’d said, however, he’d already returned to his former calm and grace.

MC: Then, when shall we start?

Mo Yi: Once we’re separated from each other. I will act either tomorrow or the day after, and you will have to start contacting Wang Chen in three days time once that happens.

Mo Yi: This will set things up to seem as if we’ve absolutely nothing to do with each other.

MC: I understand. How should I strike a conversation with him this time then? What do I have to watch out for?

I opened up the notepad app in my phone, eagerly waiting for his "instructions*.

Mo Yi: First, don't be so hasty. Before that...

He pointed to my phone; his face full of smiles.

Mo Yi: Before that, you'd do well to wipe your phone completely of any and all of those "vermin", to wrap up any loose ends.

MC: ???

MC: ……

It took me a while for the gears to click in my head that he was in fact, referring to the harassers. Face red with embarrassment, I forked out my phone.

MC: Please, Dr. Mo. I'll be leaving it in your capable hands.

Mo Yi: It is but my pleasure.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Mo Yi fiddled with my phone for a while before returning it back to me.

I no longer received any harassment from unknown accounts after that day, and my long-lost nights of peace returned once more.

I'd once asked him just what did he do to settle all these people once and for all, but he'd simply refused to tell me— "Let me keep a little secret", he'd said.

And as for me, pandering for an answer to no avail, I could only reassure myself that this was probably his "magic" at work.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Location: Mo Yi's Home Study

When night fell, Mo Yi began recording his work record with a voice recorder, as usual.

Mo Yi: The answer she gave me today was something truly beyond my expectations.

By his hand, was a psychological evaluation chart, with one of the bars on the bar chart, near the end of the page, significantly higher than before.

But this time, he was much more at ease about it.

No, more accurately, he was probably feeling joy. Joy, from the very bottom of his heart.

Mo Yi: Although she'd already done splendidly enough on the previous case we were involved in;

Mo Yi: People are all multi-faceted…. And just like a mirror under the sun, one will be able to see many different colours depending on the angle.

Mo Yi: But she's different.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

He slowly raised his head, gazing at the blooming roses by the window not too far away, the glass of red wine in his hand exuding bursts of fragrance as he swirled it in his hand.

Mo Yi: Courage, confidence, kindness, calmness, and self-confidence. Those unique qualities I saw in her have emerged, once again.

Mo Yi: Love at first sight? ...Looks like I was just being overly worried about it before.

Mo Yi: Those things that I admire, they're not just a beautiful illusion caused by the Principle of Double Effect, and neither are they something as short-lived as "broad-leaved epiphyllum flowers coming into bloom".

Mo Yi: She, is one of a kind.

He took a light sip of his wine, the slightly astringent taste of it rolling over the tip of his tongue before melting into his body as it flowed down his oesophagus.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

He stood up, walking towards the windows. His right hand gently stroked the bright red blooms before his eyes, a hint of a smile playing at his expression.

The petals quivered as a crystal-clear drop of water dropped upon his palm. And in the next moment, he clenched his right hand, making the droplet of water disappear into his skin.

Mo Yi: Looks like I'll have to prepare some things; and do them well.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Previous Part: (Chapter 2-7) | Next Part: (Chapter 2-9)

[threeletterslife]

02 | Illegirl

→ previous | next

→ summary: Excelling in every school subject, acing every math test and conquering the academic world is something you do as easily as breathing. As your residential social outcast nerd, you live rather as a recluse, talking to almost no one except for your dear ol’ cousin and that sweet boy in a few of your classes—Jungkook? was that his name? Befriending your ʰᵒᵗ AP stats teacher was the last thing on your high school senior agenda…

→ genre: 90% fluff, 8% crack, 2% angst | teacher!au & f2l!au

→ warnings: profanity (89% of it is y/n and the other 11% is jimin), very very brief mentions of sexual harassment, making googly eyes over jimin’s rock-hard abs

→ wordcount: 10.4k

You should've known.

You should've known the trip would be shit.

"Jin, I can't believe you brought my bikini!" you yell accusingly, picking up the yellow swimsuit in disdain. "I have two other one-pieces, but no, you just had to pick this one!"

Your cousin doesn't even look at you. "You've got a nice body, own it," he answers, fumbling around to find his own swim trunks.

"Oh my god. I can 'own it' some other time, you know, when Jimin won't be around!"

"Who cares? It's not like you're stripping naked in front of him. It's just a swimsuit, literally designed for wearers to own it," your cousin says, shrugging. "Besides, he's just your teacher."

You scrunch your nose. "And that makes me feel better how?"

"Well, he's just someone who happens to be more knowledgeable than you to teach you a certain subject. No matter," Jin shrugs. "It's not like you two are doing inappropriate things on the side. Oh boy, then that'd be illegal for sure."

You look down at your toes. Wow, I don't feel guilty at all.

Not wanting your cousin to go further, you sigh, biting your tongue, and you take the pretty yellow bikini to the bathroom. How worse can it get?

It was worse.

Way, way, worse. You might even feel faint.

"Dang, Jimin, my boy," Jin catcalls. "Have you been working out?"

Jimin shrugs. "A little."

While you had felt just plain wrong wearing a bikini in front of your teacher, it seemed so that your teacher gave zero fucks about being completely shirtless in front of his student.

You try to look away, but Jimin's well-toned abs are just a tad bit too perfect to not look at. Making sure your cousin and teacher aren't looking, you take a couple of peeks.

"Y/N!" Jin exclaims, causing you to jump. "Why are you still wearing that bathrobe? I told you to own it."

You shake your head. "I'll take it off once we're near the water."

Your cousin rolls his eyes and walks away, figuring your stubborn personality won't bend to his simple suggestion. You take this opportunity to sneak another look at your teacher's abs, this time, eyes trailing up to look at his face when his wide, chocolate eyes meet yours. You almost let out a loud squeak, blushing while quickly averting your eyes. Had he been looking at you?

Well, shit. This is more awkward than a family dinner. But not that you've ever had one, anyways.

In silence, the three of you walk to the very edge of the wooden walkway which stopped just above five-foot deep ocean water.

"What a beautiful view," Jin says proudly, placing two hands on his hips. "I think I see the fish in there too!" He thinks for a moment. Then without warning, your cousin takes a running leap into the clear waters, bellowing the word: "Cannonball!" at the top of his lungs.

He splashes into the ocean, drenching you and Jimin from head to toe. In fact, you look like you've just gotten out of a bath. "Jin!" you whine, trying to wring the water out of your hair.

"Come in, baby cousin!" he replies, giggling at your annoyed reaction as he starts to backstroke away from the walkway.

You roll your eyes dramatically but obey, cautiously dipping your foot into the seawater. But you get a strange feeling someone is watching you. Whipping your head around, sure enough, you see Jimin staring curiously at you. You raise your eyebrows.

"What?" you say accusingly.

"What?" he says, raising up two hands in defense.

"What?"

"What?"

"What?"

"What?"

"Okay, why were you staring?" you say, cutting off the stupid repartee.

"W-what?" Jimin stutters. "When was I staring?"

You sigh. "You know what? Whatever," you mutter under your breath. Wanting to get away from your teacher as quickly as possible, you peel your drenched bathrobe off your body, flinging it away. Then, as fast-as-lightning, you dive into the ocean.

The cool water envelops your warm skin, welcoming you into the vast sea. You smile to yourself as you feel the minuscule underwater bubbles wrapping around you. For just a few seconds you forget all of your problems as you dolphin-kick further into the tranquil waters. You're almost sad when you're forced to resurface from the lack of oxygen.

Rubbing the saltwater away from your eyes, you open them to see Jimin was already swimming towards Jin, who was yelling and waving his arms around. He reminded you of a panicked mime to be quite honest.

You smile to yourself at the thought.

"I'm coming!" you shout back, diving back under the water again to swim towards your cousin and teacher.

Jin and Jimin are standing around in the ocean when you reach them. And for some reason, with your slightly tired legs, you believed you could as well. Attempting to find the sandy bottom with your feet, you completely forget how short you were compared to the two men.

It happens all too fast when you can't breathe anymore, your face submerged underwater as you fall deeper into the saltwater. In the rather pathetic process, you panic, flailing your arms around in a pitiful attempt to get back up to the surface. But you should've kept your calm—pain shoots up your nostrils when you accidentally take a deep breath through your nose. You hate to admit it, but you might just be drowning.

You don't think the ocean is so beautiful now.

"Y/N!" you hear a muffled scream from above. It's either Jin or Jimin—maybe both, you don't know.

Warm hands wrap around your waist, tugging you back to the surface. Immediately you get into a coughing fit, keeping your eyes squeezed shut as you instinctively wrap your legs around your savior's waist. You choke out more water that had gotten into your system as the person you think is Jin pats your back in an attempt to help, but you swat his hand away.

"No, I'm fine, you don't have to help me! I could've totally handled th—"

You'd opened your eyes. It hadn't been Jin who had been your savior, contrary to your belief. It had been Jimin. You're in his arms, bare stomachs touching, legs wrapped around his waist.

No. NO. NOO.

You gasp, but cough instead. Your face burns, and you don't know if it's from the lack of oxygen or the embarrassment that you're half-naked in your teacher's arms.

God, why the fuck does this shit just happen to me?

You're a choking mess as Jimin attempts to pat your back again. You want to tell him not to touch you, but you're afraid if he doesn't help at the moment, you'll die from choking on water.

It takes a while but you stop coughing, throat very sore. Jimin finally lets you go when you slightly push away from him, your head hanging low in shame. How humiliating.

Jin immediately pulls you into his arms, sweeping away the wet baby hair that was clinging to your forehead. He gives your cheek a little pat. "Stupid," he says, lightly flicking your forehead. "You could've been in some real trouble. Did you really think you were as tall as us?"

"Uh, I hoped?" you answer, eliciting a chuckle from Jimin.

"Why is your baby cousin so much like you?" he says.

"That's 'cause I practically raised her," Jin says proudly, hugging you tightly.

"For the worse," you tease, hitting his chest.

Jin laughs. "Just don't try drowning again, okay? I was actually worried."

"I'm an ace swimmer, I don't drown," you reply, sticking your tongue out at your cousin. "Not usually anyway..." You puff out your cheeks in thought, racking your brain to change the humiliating topic as smoothly as you can. "Well, now, who's up for a game of Marco Polo?"

"Man, that was some fucking dinner," you mumble, laying like a starfish on the comfy bed as you rub your protruding tummy through your white t-shirt. "I look pregnant. And the father is food."

You stifle a small yawn as you turn your head to look out the window. The view really is beautiful. Jin had outdone himself renting this damn nice beach house. The dark, sparkling ocean reflects the shining stars in the sky, and the black outlines of swaying palm trees make you almost taste the salty beach night breeze.

Honestly, you could've drifted off to sleep right then and there. But of course, someone knocks on your door, disturbing you and your food baby.

"Jin?" you call, sitting up on your bed in an unflattering angle (no doubt revealing a double chin).

"Actually, it's Ji—Mr. Park," the familiar voice answers. You should've known that low, silky voice was nothing like your cousin's silvery tone.

Well, fuck.

"Uh, well, sorry. Y/N's occupied at the moment," you lie, lying back down on the bed and praying your teacher would just yeet out.

You can hear Jimin sigh outside your bedroom door. He impatiently knocks on your door again. "Yeah, but Jin's drunk. I came to ask for help."

"Oh my god." You sigh as well, groaning as you get up from your bed. "I told him not to get drunk anymore! I swear he's doing it on purpose now, just to spite me!" You throw open the door, seething with frustration. Big mistake.

"HOLY FUCK!" you shriek, throwing your hands over your poor (or maybe blessed) eyes. "GO PUT ON A DAMN SHIRT!"

There was your teacher, completely shirtless. He's dripping wet (from what you innocently assume is water), and he's definitely not flexing but damn those abs. Jimin runs his hand through his damp, black hair in irritation. "Yeah, I will later, alright? Just... C'mon, Y/N, I really do need your help."

It feels so wrong to stand in front of your shirtless teacher, especially after what had gone down between the two of you. You try your best to keep it professional, making sure your eyes get minimal contact with Jimin's well-defined abs.

"Your cousin's about to pass out in the hot tub, and I think we'd both appreciate it if we got him to bed before he drowns," your teacher continues, running another hand through his black hair as if by habit.

"God, that damn idiot." You shake your head in disapproval as your awkwardly maneuver your way around your unprofessionally dressed teacher. Starting to walk ahead towards the hot tub outside the beach house, you turn around only to ask Jimin a question. "So, did he throw up yet?"

"Not yet, no," Jimin answers, catching up to you. "Take that as a good sign. We should get to him before he decides to turn his insides out."

But you're barely listening to what your teacher's saying. You're just too distracted by the fact that this shirtless man is walking so close to you. So close that his wet skin glides by your dry (lotion lacking) arm every step you take. Your face is probably steaming redder than the spicy chili pepper you'd eaten at dinner.

When you finally get to the nice hot tub, you see your older cousin splashing about in the water. Not only is he acting like he's six, but he's also attempting to doggy paddle around the small tub. You're starting to worry if alcohol can severely kill off brain cells.

"Jin..." you say, lowering your voice in a dangerous whisper. You approach your cousin who was still god forbid playing in the hot tub. "What did I say about drinking?"

At the sound of your voice, your cousin perks up, stopping his atrocious doggy paddling to give you a goofy grin. "Oh, hey, Y/N!" He cranes his neck and squints, looking behind you. "Oh, you brought Jimin! Hey, man, come in!"

You shake your head, mouth set in a stern frown. "What did I say about drinking, Jin?"

Your cousin actually has the nerve to snort at you. "I don't remember."

"That's it!" you roar, pointing accusingly at Jin. "Get out. No one's allowed to go in that hot tub for the rest of the day."

"No!" Jin giggles. He splashes back in the pool, floating on his back. "Can we all acknowledge how nice my boy Jimin's abs are?" Your cousin waves his arms around dramatically, then blows a kiss to the night sky.

"You're drunk," you accuse.

"I am aware~" Jin sings, blowing another damn kiss to the moon.

"Yeah, no. We're getting you out of the tub," you sigh, desperately catching your teacher's eye. "Mr. Park, help!"

You lumber forward, gripping onto Jin's upper half of his body as he flails his arms wildly, nearly missing poking your eyeball out. "Stop it!" you yell, resisting the urge to wack his across the head. "I'm trying to help you, alright? Look, you're getting me wet!"

Jimin laughs at your helplessness, which earns him a death glare from you. Without another sound, he grabs onto Jin's legs, helping you haul him out of the tub. But the whole process is messy.

Your cousin won't stop flailing around his arms, singing the alphabet backward in a high-pitched, off-tune voice that makes you want to rip out all of your hair strand by strand. You and Jimin try to ignore the chaotic evil that is your cousin, persistently trying to carry him off to his hotel room. "I'm literally going to kill you," you remind Jin every five seconds.

Finally, when you get to your cousin's room, you practically throw him on his bed, shaking the water off of your arms. "Thanks a lot, idiot," you seethe. "My whole shirt is wet!" You try to squeeze the dampness out of the cotton material of your shirt to no avail.

Instead of feeling sorry, Jin just grins mischievously. "What shirt?"

You roll your eyes. "Get some glasses, you dud. Your friend here isn't wearing a shirt, but I am."

Jin giggles. "Nope!"

"Argh!" you scream in exasperation, turning to Jimin as steam practically escapes from your red ears. "Let's go."

But your teacher stays in place, his face slightly red as he turns his back to you. "Uh... he's right," Jimin mutters. "Um... the water... you're um, wearing white..."

Oh fuck.

You don't even want to look down to see what sort of stuff you were revealing. Fast as lightning, you cross your arms over your chest, hoping you didn't flash anything too bad. Then without another word, you attempt to dash out of the room, but someone grabs your wrist, stopping you.

Oh what do you know, it's Jimin.

"Wait, Y/N! We still need to talk, remember?" Jimin protests, averting his eyes from your body as his tight grip slightly loosens on your wrist.

"Goddammit, can it wait until we're both wearing an adequate shirt?!" you shriek, wretching out of your teacher's grasps. "This has to be the worst timing ever!"

"Right, shit. Sorry, you're right," Jimin quickly says, stepping back with a bright red face. "Just... meet me outside. I'll take care of Jin."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you say in haste. "You saw nothing!" Then, you make a mad dash to your room, your face burning from embarrassment and sheer confusion.

The moment you reach your safe place, you collapse on your bed, allowing yourself to take a deep breath. You just can't help but worry. What did your teacher want to talk about? Why here? Why now? He surely didn't remember that day... right?

You almost consider blowing the meeting off but think better of it. It would just create more drama and more things to talk about. So you drag yourself out of bed, forcing your arms to grab a clean t-shirt to change.

It takes a lot of contemplation to leave the privacy and safety of your room. But you finally do, trudging outside to see Jimin was already waiting.

He had slipped on a nice-fitting black shirt over his swim trunks and was running his fingers through his damp hair. What really ticked you off was the fact that he was sitting on the edge of the hot tub, dipping his feet into the warm water.

If you can remember clearly, you'd announced that no one was allowed to be in the hot tub for the rest of the day. But whatever.

You look back at the screen door, actually wondering if you should just leave. You've done nothing wrong... right? But why is your heart beating furiously in your chest? And why the fuck are your armpits accumulating sweat? God, you want to avoid this conversation at all costs. Yet you've avoided it for too long; it had to come sooner or later.

Fuck it.

You take a deep breath, making your way (semi-confidently) over to the hot tub and sitting across from your teacher as you dip your feet in the water as well. But you refuse to look at him.

"Y/N..." Jimin softly says. You grit your teeth, averting your gaze off to the beautiful night sky. Then, it's silent. After a few minutes, you're starting to wonder if the talk will never start, and you'll be able to be in peace.

But no, the silence just has to be interrupted by that darn Jimin. He's chuckling, giving you a non-threatening, almost friendly look.

"Y/N, you went so far to avoid this conversation, you know," your teacher laughs.

No kidding.

"I happen to be very close friends with Mr. Jung, your literature teacher," Jimin says, making your blood run cold. "He assured me you two never had a talk."

Fuck.

"I also happen to be close friends with Namjoon, or Mr. Kim, your philosophy teacher," Jimin continues. "Turns out your class never does projects."

Shit.

"And, Jin booked this trip knowing it wasn't your... er, time of month."

Your ears turn bright red as you look down at your feet in the hot tub. How the fuck are you supposed to react to being completely exposed?

"Y-You know what?" you blurt out. "Let's look at the view! Yeah, the view? Isn't it real nice?" you exclaim overly excitedly, pointing out to the dark waters.

Jimin seems slightly taken aback by your outburst, but nods in agreement. "Yes, well I agree... it's a nice view." He scratches his head awkwardly. "But um, Y/N... This is a bit serious. Can we focus?"

Dammit.

"Y-Yeah... sorry."

"Thank you." Jimin nods curtly. "So um, about last Friday..."

Your eyes bulge out of their sockets as all of your muscles tense up. Nononono, this cannot be happening!

"I just want to tell you that, uh... I'm sorry." Jimin runs his fingers through his hair, awkwardly leaning back on the edge of the hot tub.

"Sorry? Sorry for what?" you ask, frown lines appearing out of confusion.

"For sexually harassing you."

What. WHAT? WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT???? HE REMEMBERED??

"W-What?"

Jimin squirms in his seat. "Please don't make me say it again," he begs. "I'm so sorry I sexually harassed you. I'm so sorry I made you feel uncomfortable in any way. I was drunk, I wasn't thinking straight, I was—"

"Wait, no, that definitely wasn't sexual harassment," you interrupt, shaking your head in disagreement. "Especially not if I kissed back."

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you want to throw yourself into the goddamn ocean. If the situation wasn't bad before, it was bad now.

"I-I mean, you were drunk, Mr. Park," you blubber, trying to save yourself. "It's fine. I wasn't even drunk."

You want to facepalm for the sake of your idiocy.

Jimin's face turns bright red as he shakes his head. "I... lured you," he says as if were admitting a felony. "It wasn't your fault."

"H-How do you know?" you squeak. "I mean, how much do you remember?" Your hands grip the edge of the hot tub, slipping once in a while due to the accumulation of sweat.

"Everything..." Jimin admits. "I remember everything I did and said, Y/N. I'm so sorry."

You can't find your words. But maybe that's a good thing, judging how much of a goddamn blabbermouth you are. Yet you've really got to give it to your teacher. It takes massive guts to apologize for your wrongdoings—especially drunk wrongdoings.

"Can we just," Jimin sighs, "can we just forget it happened?"

You nod your head vigorously without a second thought. But you pause abruptly. "But that's the problem," you say. "How can I forget that my own teacher kissed me and called me pet names?" Sighing, you rub your forehead. Until you realized you fucked up for the billionth time today. "Shit. Sorry. That was not appropriate."

"W-Well, you're not wrong," Jimin mutters, avoiding your eye contact again. "I just get... really tipsy when I'm drunk."

"Yeah, no kidding," you mumble under your breath. "But I really don't think I can promise to forget. I mean, it's hard not to remember something like that... I'm really sorry. I don't think I can do it."

Jimin nods, finally looking up at you to give you a small smile. "Well, same here, Y/N. It's not something that happens every day, at least, I hope not. But whatever you remember from that night, don't take it seriously."

"Of course I won't!" You scoff. "Why would I take it seriously? You were drunk!"

"Well, I dunno, because you uh, kissed back?" Jimin laughs. Then, he stiffens, shaking his head. "Sorry. That was not appropriate."

"Yeah well, you and me both, Mr. Park."

Your teacher laughs again, a sound you're starting to grow quite fond of. "Don't call me Mr. Park, Y/N."

What now.

Jimin stutters, flushing red. "Wait, I mean, don't call me Mr. Park here, like this. Fuck! I mean, just don't call me Mr. Park outside of school. It makes me feel old, you know?"

You chuckle at your teacher's awkwardness that nearly matched your own. "Yeah, that's a good idea," you agree. "I feel awkward every time I say it."

Because it sounds fucking kinky.

Jimin laughs again, releasing a sweet and low noise that makes you smile. "Well, I guess the awaited talk is finally over." He stands up, slipping out of the hot tub. "I hope you accept my apology. Good night, Y/N."

"Accepted. Good night... Jimin."

Usually, you like to wake up on your own time when the birds are chirping and morning sunlight pouring in through your windows. Nothing satisfies you more than rousing from your slumber with your own natural alarm clock. Nothing dissatisfies you more than being awakened from another being.

"Up!" a chirpy voice screams too close to your ear. "Wake up, Y/N!"

Groaning, you turn over to face the loud voice that was bothering you from your peace. Your eyes flutter open to catch a blurry sight of a person, a man. You frown. A few blinks later, the figure is much clearer and portrays an obvious rendition of your goddamn teacher.

BiTch, wHat tHe fUck.

The sight jerks you awake immediately. Gasping unholily, you scramble up, legs tangling up in the sheets in your panic as you try to straighten up your sleep attire and tame your bed hair. "JIMIN?"

A dream? Is this a dream??

Your mind scrambles alike, trying to come up with an explanation as to why your teacher was in your room at this early hour. Oh god, is he drunk again??

"Relax, relax!" Jimin grins, placing a sassy hand on his hip as he stands up straight like the equanimous man that he is. "I know, I know, probably not the most welcoming thing to see when you wake up..." He shrugs. "But Jin threatened to starve me if I didn't wake you up."

No kidding. Imagine partaking in a peaceful slumber only to be awakened by your fucking teacher of all things. Sounds like some kid's nightmare. But then again, Jimin had had no choice. Jin had threatened to starve him, which was never a good sign.

Still, your mind slips back to last night's awkward endeavors. Oh god. You shudder as the memories flood back into your brain. But today's a new day, a fresh, new start to you and Jimin with no past held grudges. Maybe it'll go swell.

"Er... So how's Jin's hangover?" You untangle your legs from the sheets, almost stumbling to get out of bed. Adjusting the ancient t-shirt you've worn for sleepwear for several years too long, you look expectantly at your teacher, who, unlike you, seems outwardly put-together (judging by his clothes).

Jimin chuckles. "Well, he's making himself the hangover breakfast... You know, because he and I both know that I can't cook for shit."

You snort, "Yeah you and me both."

It's actually much easier to slip into a conversation with Jimin after that. Both of you take your time walking to the kitchen for breakfast as the chat becomes more and more relaxing and familiar. Who knew passionate talking about French mathematician René Descartes would open a comfortable morning talk?

All too soon, you're in the kitchen. Jin's humming to himself as he's tending to three different pots and pans, but he perks up and turns around when he hears your footsteps.

He eyes you and Jimin up and down, particularly squinting at the rather sliver gap between the two of you before a grin spreads across his face. "Well," he announces, hands on his hips, "you two seem to be less awkward."

You almost snort out loud, but opt for a quiet, "Yeah, I wonder why."

Next to you, Jimin hears and chuckles. "We just had a little talk, and that seemed to solve everything."

"No biggie," you add, sarcasm sprinkled lightly across your words.

But your cousin doesn't notice it as he wildly claps his hands together like an overenthusiastic seal. "Great! Now that you two are less awkward, we can actually start our vacation!"

You and Jimin exchange nervous looks.

"Oh my god, oh my GOD, OH MY GOD!" you scream bloody murder at the top of your lungs as you struggle to take a deep breath. "Jimin, you're going too fast! Too fast!"

"That's what she said," your cousin snorts, but immediately ducks his head as if he was ashamed of his sudden inappropriate outburst.

"God, Jin. Shut up!" you yell, gripping onto your cousin as if your life depended on it—which it kind of did.

Speedboats have never been your thing. Well, actually, adrenaline rush has never been your thing. Anything going over 50 mph made you feel sick in the stomach and rightfully knocked the wind out of you. In fact, you're highly convinced that you can die sitting in any vehicle moving at rapid speeds.

"Wow, Y/N, didn't know you were such a scaredy-cat," Jimin calls from the front. He turns around slightly to make this comment, chuckling good-heartedly at your rather pathetic state where you're clinging onto your cousin and all. The salty ocean wind righteously muses his shiny, black hair, bringing justice to anyone gazing at him. His bright and beautiful grin paired with his tan, muscular arms could honestly bring world peace if you admit to being dramatic. In fact, his whole body seemed to be radiating, sparkling in the blinding sunlight as small, pearlescent water droplets reflected even more light for you to gratefully perceive.  

But wait a minute. This is your teacher you're talking about here. Stop it! You tell yourself. Stop making your teacher sound hotter than he already is!

"So what if I'm a scaredy-cat?!" you bellow, squeezing your eyes shut and tightening your grip on Jin as your hair flies around your head maddeningly.

"So you can't enjoy this lovely boat ride!" Jin screams back, although he's literally right next to you. In the next second, you assume your billowing hair has smacked his face one too many times because your cousin pulls your wind-blown, wavy hair back in a low ponytail. "I swear, these locks of yours have been releasing all havoc on me since the moment we got on! Do you have a hair tie?!"

You don't answer, instead wordlessly jutting out your wrist to offer your cousin one of the four hair ties that were fitted on there. Jin takes his goddamn time choosing a hair tie (even though they're all the identical plain black design) and he takes even more time tugging it off your wrist. Then it takes a whole eon for him to tie your chaotic hair for you, making sure to soothe out all the tangles to give you the best hair-tying experience ever.

As time-consuming the process is, it's comfortable and way less turbulent than what could've been if Jin hadn't helped. It's times like this that makes you wonder where you would be in life without your cousin. You don't even want to answer that, much less list the possibilities.

Your upset stomach seems to wreck you out of your own thoughts. One more second on this boat and I'm going to heave the remains of breakfast.

But lo-and-behold to your utmost gratitude, the speedboat comes into a slow stop. The wind no longer threatens to steal your breath away and the salty fish-feces water no longer splatters dangerously close to your lips. You let out a grateful sigh.

"Is it over?" you ask, finally managing to open your eyes.

"You're acting as if the boat ride was torture," Jin snorts, playfully shoving you.

"It was!!" you insist. "But for real, is it over?"

Jimin chuckles, steering the boat to a shady spot underneath towering trees with lush leaves. "Well, for now, it is."

"What?!"

"See, Y/N," Jin laughs, patting your shoulder, "we still have to go hiking later. We'll relax here for a couple of hours, but ultimately we'll have to take a boat ride back."

"Oh god," you groan, dramatically arching your back and placing a distressed hand on your forehead. With that, you slide down to the bottom of the boat, making yourself comfortable amidst shit-smelling life jackets. "Please wake me up once this trip is over, thank you."

You kind of said that as a joke, but the next thing you know, you've actually fallen asleep.

There's no turning back now. You really do hope your cousin will wake you once you're home.  

Okay, so Jin didn't wake you up when the trip was over; you woke up yourself, and you were still clearly in the middle of the vacation.

But soon it dawns on you that there are bigger problems than you not being at home. For starters, you're not walking, but you're somehow moving. It takes another hot second to realize you're on someone's back.

It takes another hot minute to realize your arms are loosely hanging around another's neck, your bare legs wrapped around their waist. This is probably the fastest you've ever shaken off your sleepiness. Only because your mind likes to anticipate the worst, as always.

"JIMIN?!" you shriek, kicking to get off of his back. "Let me go!"

He listens, letting you slide off his back and land (a bit wobbly) on the ground. But when he turns around, it's quite apparent he hadn't been Jimin but quite actually your own cousin.

"Y/N!" Jin sighs. "First off, you've been living with me for so long, but you still can't tell who I am?" he teases, quirking his eyebrow at you. "Second, you can't just try to jump off my back like that! This hike is near a cliff; you could've fallen to your death if you jumped a tad bit later!"

"Besides," a voice chuckles from behind. You whirl around to see Jimin, adjusting his expensive-looking sunglasses as he grins. "What made you think I'd carry you?"

"W-Well..." You stop yourself. Well, it might just be because we've made out before, but haha, no matter right?

"Yeah, anyways," Jin huffs, patting a huge bag, "I've got sunblock, aloe cream, water bottles,..."

Once Jin starts listing the million little things he brought to aide the three of you on the hike, you zone out. The heat of the sun penetrates through the little shade of the leave-less trees, and you can already feel sweat accumulating on your forehead. A bit irritated, you wipe the sweat off on the back of your hand, then wipe the back of your hand on your t-shirt. It's already getting so hot and stuffy. You can't imagine how bad it would be when you're actually out in the open and walking.

It does not sound like music to your ears.

By the time you break from your thoughts, your cousin is still listing the shit he brought. You can't believe your ears. No, you're not going to stand here waiting to drown in a puddle of your own sweat. You're going to get this dumb hike over with—even if you have to get it done alone.

"Yeah, yeah," you quickly interrupt your cousin babbling on about how cool his new hiking shoes are. Jin and Jimin turn to you, looking at you expectantly to say something. So you do. "Yeah, um so... race you!" you yell, whirling around and sprinting towards the narrow ledge of the hiking trail.

"Wait, Y/N!" you hear your cousin and his friend shout from behind.

You pay no mind, even running faster. If they wanted to tell you to stop, they'd have to catch you first. You'd just be waiting on the other side of the trail, sipping on ice-cold lemonade from the refreshments stand.

Yeah, you're a math genius. You know very well, too well, that Y/N plus heat equals utter disaster. It's a surefire equation that works every time. And that's what you were wary of before you decided to sprint through the hike—to avoid disaster.

But of course, before you had started sprinting to the end of the hike, you'd forgotten you hadn't gotten that much exercise the past... seventeen years of your life. It's no wonder that your endurance is a big, fat zero. You've been running, lightning-speed, for only seven minutes but you're heaving for breath.

You realize at that moment, with a heavy heart, that you cannot go on like this. If Jin found out you fainted from dehydration and fell off the cliff, he'd pull up your body to murder you all over again. For being reckless and stupid, that is. You have no choice but to stop running.

Your legs feel like jelly as you wobble your way over to some rocks before collapsing on them. The jagged surface digs behind your back, but it's the least of your worries. You squint, shielding your eyes from the scorching sunlight. Damn. Looks like none of your trip companions had taken the race seriously. They hadn't even tried to catch up to y—

"Y/N!"

Oh, nevermind.

"Y/N!" the voice shrieks again. It takes you two seconds to realize that's not Jin's voice. Which leaves Jimin as the culprit.

Quickly, you try to look less, for the lack of better word choice, dead. You try to wipe the sweat running down your face and fix your hair before sitting upon the rock. Just in time, Jimin comes into view, holding an ice-cold water bottle in his hand.

"What on earth, Y/N! You're a fast runner!" he wheezes, nearly toppling over as he collapses on the rock next to you. He breathes as heavily as you are, running a hand through his wet hair. "Do you need water?"

You nod gladly and wordlessly, mouth completely parched. Jimin's hand juts out as he hands you the water bottle, and you take it gratefully. Uncapping the bottle, you take a nice, long birdy, relishing at the moment as the cool water hits the back of your throat. When you finish, you wipe the excess water trickling down the corners of your lips with the back of your hand, and you hand the water bottle back to Jimin. Your eyes enlarge as he uncaps it swiftly and takes a large swig, pressing his lips to the bottle's opening.

Okay. Never would you have thought you'd be sharing a water bottle with your teacher. That was something new.

There's a bit of awkward silence as both you and Jimin catch your breaths in the torrid heat of the afternoon. You jump when Jimin chuckles, breaking the moment of silence.

"Y/N," he laughs, "I'm not sure you understand what hiking is."

You make a face. Hiking? You would look up the exact definition if you could (just to double-check), but you're pretty sure there's no wifi around here. So you go with the definition you previously had in your head. "Isn't it just walking in nature?"

Jimin shrugs. "Well, yeah, but you have to admire the nature too. Jin's kinda pissed 'cause he thought we'd take our time hiking the trail, but you just ran off."

Oh no. Pissed Jin was not a good sign. "Shit," you mutter underneath your breath. "Where is he?"

"Fortunately for you, he's really far back." Your teacher adjusts his sunglasses and smiles. "You know your cousin, he hates not admiring anything. We'd be lucky if he even finishes the trail."

You laugh, nodding. "Accurate! Do you understand the struggle of having to wait for him to finish up in the bathroom in the morning? He can spend three hours looking at his reflection in the mirror!"

"That sounds like Seokjin, alright," Jimin snorts, shaking his head. "Do you think he'll spare us this time and make it quick?"

"Yikes, I really don't know," you sigh. "Maybe we should go back for him?"

Your teacher cocks an eyebrow. "You think?"

"No, not really." You shrug, stretching out your arms before grinning mischievously. "Let's let him catch up himself."

"Exactly what I was thinking."

You and your teacher quietly wait for your cousin to show up. But you should've known Jin, that slowpoke, would take forever. The hot sun beats down on you and you realize you didn't even put on sunblock—you had run off before Jin reminded you with his motherly instincts.

Hot sweat trickles down the back of your neck and you flinch.

I fucking swear if I can feel my own sweat trickling down my neck again I will flip.

You sigh. You know you need a good distraction... maybe talking will help? You desperately turn your head towards your teacher who looks as just as about done as you are.

His black hair is shimmering from his own sweat as his cheeks are flushed red from the heat; you spy a drop of sweat rolling down his neck and disappearing behind his loose t-shirt.

It's a good sign to start talking.

"Sooo," you start, Jimin turning his head towards you. "Tell me again why you became a math teacher?" you ask, wiping away a drop of sweat before it could roll down your neck.

"Because I like math," Jimin shrugs, pulling on his t-shirt and letting it go repeatedly to fan himself.

You're persistent, not taking a simple reply as an answer. "But why did you decide to teach high schoolers?"

Jimin turns to you fully, looking off into the distance as if he were thinking. "Well, elementary kids are too young to understand the type of math I like, junior high kids get annoying, college kids think they're the shit. High schoolers are perfect, er... or they fit me," Jimin says. "I probably shouldn't say that though. I could offend a whole bunch of people."

You laugh. "I'm not offended; I'm in high school. How'd you get a job so quickly? Aren't you still pretty young?" you continue to ask.

"Well," Jimin pauses. "I don't want to brag or anything, but I'm a math whiz," he says, throwing his head back and grinning at you.

"That was bragging," you mutter under your breath. "Straight up bragging."

Jimin pretends like he didn't hear you. "Any more questions?" Jimin asks sarcastically. "Hey, how about this—we take turns. You ask, then I ask."

"What? Why?" you whine. You didn't want to answer questions about your own private life, your plan to keep your distracted had blown up in your face.

"So I can get to know you too," Jimin replies.

"And we have to answer?"

"Yup."

"Okay, fine," you say. "When did you meet Jin?"

"When he came to school," Jimin simply says. "My turn."

"What no!" you whine. "That's a no-brainer answer, even I could've given an answer like that. I meant like around what time?"

"Uh..." Jimin hesitates, seemingly doing the math inside his head. "Well I knew he existed and everything but we didn't become close until around three months ago," Jimin estimates.

"Oh, I see," you say. "Jin doesn't usually bring people home unless they're special."

Jimin smiles, his eyes scrunching up and his soft lips spreading out. You try to look away but the sight is almost addicting.

Stupid Y/N.

"Special aren't I?" Jimin chuckles.

"Don't get too full of yourself," you murmur.

"I won't," Jimin assures you, "now it's my turn. How do you do so well on your math tests all the time? My questions are crazy hard you know, they're designed to trick and challenge."

You scoff, shaking your head disapprovingly. "What a nice teacher. But I tend to study each topic until I completely understand it. Math is simple logic," you shrug. "If you understand a topic completely, no matter how hard a question is, you'll be able to plow through. Good answer?"

"It's a logical answer," Jimin nods.

"My turn. Why did you decide to go on this trip if you knew I was going too?" you inquire.

"Because Jin invited me," Jimin says, but upon seeing your glare, he expounds, "and I can't refuse a nice beach trip. Besides, we're chill, right?" he says. "I hope. After that talk we went through..."

You quickly nod your head. "Yes, whatever, we're chill."

Jimin laughs. "How long have you been living with Jin?"

"Uh... Lemme see. Six, seven years?"

"Why do you live with your cousin?"

"Hey!" you say. "That's two questions."

"Oops," Jimin chuckles. "You go, then."

"Were you a nerd when you were in high school?"

"Is that even a question?" Jimin laughs. "Yes, I guess so. I tried really hard in school."

You nod. "Not surprised."

"Okay, so, why do you live with your cousin?"

Your face falls a bit. "It's kinda complicated," you say. "And lengthy."

"We have time," Jimin says, leaning back.

"Nah, I prefer to skip the question," you say. "We each get one skip," you dictate.

"Yes ma'am," Jimin jokes, saluting you.

You roll your eyes, then grinning evilly. "So, do you usually kiss people when you're drunk?" you ask as innocently as you can.

"Skip!" Jimin exclaims. "Once again, not appropriate!"

"Oh, c'mon, I'm generally curious!"

Jimin shakes his head. "I'm not answering that, Y/N."

"It's a yes or no question," you say.

Jimin laughs. "Still not gonna say a word."

"Fine then," you say. "Do I get another qu—"

"Y/N, you little hog!" Jin screeches from a short distance. You see your raging cousin, face red and blotchy as he clutches onto bundles of what looked like... food. "When I get my hands on you!" your cousin screams.

You look at Jimin frantically. "Should I run?" you ask.

"And risk being killed two times over? Your choice," Jimin answers, laughing.

"Y/N! Just because you're seventeen years old doesn't mean you can just run off whenever without saying anything!" Jin scolds as you sigh. "You could've fallen off the cliff and died! No one could've saved you!"

"I remember I clearly told you that I was gonna race you," you say defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest. "Besides, I'm careful."

Jin groans in frustration. "Are you asking me to ground you?"

Jimin chuckles on the side causing Jin to whirl around, glaring at his friend. "Doesn't Y/N always stay at home? Would it make any difference to ground her?" Jimin says, raising his eyebrows.

Jin sighs, shaking his head and turning to face you again. "Guess you've got a good point, my dude. But Y/N, I'm serious. You're the only family I have and I don't want to lose you. You have to be careful."

"Well you're the only family I have too," you say, rubbing your arm guiltily. "And I am careful!"

"Then can you explain to me why you're sunburned out of this world and why your leg is bleeding?" Jin says.

"Oh," you answer, only realizing the stinging pain of your sunburn and the cut on your leg.

Jimin chuckles from the back again. "Jin, you're literally like her mom."

Jin rolls his eyes. "Y/N, put on that aloe cream. Luckily, I knew you'd get sunburned somehow someway. Lemme get the first aid kit for your cut. God, Y/N, you are so not careful."

"Sorry, mom," you say. "But says the one who drinks and gets wacky."

Lucky for you, Jin doesn't hear as he rummages around Jimin's spacious car for a first aid kit.

You giggle under your breath as you watch Jin who was grumbling about, still searching for some antiseptic and a band-aid. You smile. Your cousin was the mother you've never really had.

Your leg bandaged protectively and your hands full of two jars of Jin's homemade aloe cream, you attempt to clap along with the audience, the jars clinking in response. Your eyes lit up as you watch a spectacular dance performance.

The vibrant colors of the costumes, the dance steps, the partner work were all so beautiful. Just an hour before when Jin had forced you to come to this show and dinner place, you had been quite skeptical, due to your detest of crowded places. But all of that had been replaced with admiration and enjoyment.

As another beautiful dance finished up, you take that moment to look over at your company who look as equally amazed as you are. Jin's clutching on a chicken leg, mouth half-open as he chews absentmindedly, eyes glued to the stage. Jimin's forgotten his food as his full attention is on the beautiful figures moving their bodies gracefully to the beat of the music.

You smile.

"Thank you!" one of the dancers says breathily, holding the microphone with both hands. He grins at the audience. "I think that's enough dancing for us tonight!" he exclaims, pointing to his fellow dancer friends behind him. "But maybe the crowd can have some fun now!"

A loud cheer erupts from the pleased crowd as people start to stand up, already getting ready to dance their hearts out on the beautifully lit stage.

The dancer with the mic laughs. "We'll clear the stage and then it'll all be yours. Cue the music!"

Bright, bubbly music rings from the large speakers as people follow the music up to the stage. And they dance.

You watch as Jin finishes the last of his chicken leg and turns to you and Jimin. "Wanna dance?"

"Oh yes," Jimin says, his eyes sparkling in excitement.

"Oh no," you say. "I like watching dancing, but not doing it."

Jin rolls his eyes. "You can watch yourself dancing then."

Without another word of argument Jin drags you on the stage, Jimin close by. The stage is way too crowded for your liking and the once happy-sounding music sounds like some kind of buffalo rampage.

But when Jin starts to dance, you can't help but forget all the uncomfortableness, that being replaced by laughter. Boy did Jin dance funny.

"You're doing great, Jinnie!" Jimin screams over the music as he busts out some moves himself.

Your eyes widen in shock as you see the way your teacher moves. He's graceful, his body moving smoothly with the music—as if the music was controlling his body—or no, as if his body was controlling the music.

"Y/N! Dance with me!" Jin yells in your ear as he takes both your hands and spins you around goofily.

"God, Jin, slow down!" you shriek as Jin moves your arms around to the beat of the music like you were his puppet. You're afraid you look like a dancing ragged doll at the moment.

But after a while, the worries go away and they're replaced with enthusiasm and joy.

"Whoo!" you scream as you dance like a madwoman. You're pretty sure Jin's already tired, he's lagging behind you, his limbs moving slower than before.

And just as expected, only several minutes later, you feel Jin grasp your shoulder. "Hey, Y/N!" he yells over the music. "I'm gonna go down and sit. I shouldn't be moving around so much after all that chicken I ate!" Then, your cousin turns to Jimin. "You better take care of her while I'm gone!"

You see Jimin nod out of the corner of your eye as you continue to dance your heart out.

But almost as soon as Jin leaves the stage, the bouncing music halts and other than you, twenty other people groan in complaint.

"C'mon! Mid-song? Really?" you whine, throwing up your arms, others around you causing a bigger tantrum.

Jimin quickly comes over to you, softly placing a protective hand on the small of your back. Your cheeks heat up slightly but then you remember Jin had practically ordered Jimin to take care of you. Your teacher doesn't take his hand off of your back and you think it's so you'd stay together if some kind of mob madness were to break out. But the madness never comes. Instead, the music turns back on—except it's slow and romantic.

Ohhhh no.

"Grab a partner everyone! It's time for some loOove!" a dancer announces into the mic. And as quick as lightning half the people on the stage left while the other half stays behind to find partners. You want to leave.

"Uh, Jimin, I think I'm just gonna leave now," you say as Jimin nods, leading the way out of the sea of moving people, his warm hand still placed on your back, guiding you. But as you were about to take another step forward, some large, buff guy walks right in front of you, blocking your path.

"Dance with me," he laughs, scratching his messy beard. You swear you see old pizza scraps in that thing. "C'mon, pretty lady," he coos, grinning as you spot pieces of lettuce and beef stuck between his teeth.

Shrinking back and trying to find the best way to nicely reject this man, you bump into someone's chest. Looking up, you see Jimin who enlaces his arm around you.

"Sorry, dude, she's with me," he says.

At this moment, you're so thankful for your teacher you could buy him a whole five-star meal.

"All the pretty ones are always taken," Beard Man sighs. He suddenly leans into you, causing you to act on instinct, gripping Jimin's hand for safety. You don't care if Jimin is your teacher at this point, you're too scared of this creepy guy to care. "If you change your mind about your protective lil boyfriend, I'm always here."

"No, I think I'll stay with my boyfriend, thank you," you say, squeezing Jimin's hand while shaking just slightly. Beard Man was hella intimidating, you had to admit. "Go find prettier ladies to hit on."

Before you can insult Beard Man even more, Jimin takes you by the hand, placing a hand on your waist and starting to move slowly to the romantic beat of the song. Quickly catching on that your teacher wanted you to dance away from Beard Man, you wrap your arms around your his neck as you let him guide you through a series of dance steps.

You don't dare to look up until several minutes later. You're happy to see Beard Man is gone, probably bothering some other poor, unfortunate girls. You relax your tense arms, still keeping them secured around your teacher's neck.

"I don't know why but that guy scared the living shit out of me," you confess, chuckling slightly. "Thanks for saving me, by the way."

"No problem. He was on something," Jimin answers, twirling you around slowly to the music.

"He had a plan?" you ask innocently as your teacher catches your waist and brings you back close to his arms.

"You're kidding, right?" Jimin says. "He was on drugs."

"Huh?" Your eyes open in shock. "Is that what that nasty smell was? I thought it was the rotting food in his beard."

Jimin nods. "And his eyes were all red too." Jimin shakes his head then smiles.

"Well, don't tell Jin about this," you say. "He'd try to murder the guy if he hears. And plus he probably won't even let me out of the house again because 'it's for your safety,' " you quote in a mocking voice. "I don't want my only friend to go to jail."

Your teacher raises his eyebrows. "Don't tell Jin? What makes you think I'd listen to you?" he teases lightly.

Offended, you scoff. "Because...?" You really don't have a reason.

Jimin laughs. "I'm just kidding, Y/N, I won't tell Jin, you can trust me."

You glare at your teacher as he innocently smiles at you, still leading you through the slow dance.

From afar you can see Jin, smiling from your table as he holds up his phone. He sure hella looks like he's recording you and Jimin dancing.

Wait a minute. Since when was I dancing with my fucking teacher?!

Quickly, you pull away from Jimin, face blushing red. Why didn't you feel weird while dancing with him? Why did it only occur to you now that this was... awkward? Weird? Illegal???

Jimin stares at you curiously as you look away in an attempt to hide your flushed face. "Are you tired? Do you want to go back?"

You nod your head. "Yeah, I think I need more food," you say, rubbing your belly convincingly.

Your teacher laughs. "I think you always need more food."

"You know me well, Jimin."

"Are you sure you don't wanna come in?" Jin asks, putting an arm around you as you both sink into the hot tub.

"I'm a bit busy, sorry," Jimin says as he flips his hair back, giving your cousin a sorry smile.

"I can't believe you brought work stuff on a vacation," Jin sighs as he flicks water at your teacher.

"Hey! Stop it!" Jimin cries as he swats the water away from his papers. "I'm grading quizzes!"

You perk up. "Did you grade mine yet?"

"Yes," Jimin says as he goes back to looking at his quizzes, marking a question wrong every so often (often as in every second).

"So?" you ask. "Did I do well?"

"Is that even a question Y/N?" Jimin laughs as his rings clink together when he turns to you. "You always do well so what's the surprise there?"

Jin smiles, patting your head. "That's my girl," he says. "You got your smarts from me."

You make a silly face. "I did? That'd be pretty unfortunate," you say as Jin splashes water at you. "Hey!" you yell. "You're lucky that dirty water didn't get in my mouth! Or else you would've been dead!"

Jimin chuckles. "Ah, god, you guys are making it too hard for me to keep working." He sighs as he sets off his quizzes to the side. "I'm coming in."

Your teacher starts to walk towards the hot tub as you quickly hide behind your cousin for your modesty; you were wearing that yellow bikini. You sneak a peek as Jimin throws off his t-shirt to the side and carefully climbs in the tub.

Hard abs... what the fuck Y/N. Stop!

"Ah," Jimin sighs as he glides into the tub. "I should've done this from the start."

"That's what I've been telling you, dude," Jin says. "And Y/N, stop clinging onto me like a monkey!"

"Will you stop comparing me with animals? First a hog and now a monkey!" you screech.

"You just sounded like a bird," Jimin laughs as he gives you a knowing look.

"What the hell?" you shout as you throw up your hands. "You guys are so mean to me!"

"You know I love you, Y/N," Jin says as he tugs you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head.

"I would say the same thing, but it wouldn't sound right," Jimin shrugs as he chuckles, watching you and your cousin hug it out.

"Yeah, no kidding," you mutter under your breath as Jin laughs heartily.

"Anyone up for some ice cream?" Jin asks as he starts to stand up from the tub. You try to tug him back down because he was your only shield covering your body from your teacher.

"Sure," Jimin says, leaning back. "Y/N? Ice cream?"

You sigh. "Ugh, okay. Hurry up, though, thanks."

"What an ungrateful brat," Jin teases you, pinching your cheeks. He flings his t-shirt over to you as he leaves. "Wear that if you're uncomfortable."

You thankfully pull the shirt over your head and tug it down to cover your whole body. Then, you turn to your teacher, newly assured to have your swimsuit covered up. "So... do you like the trip?" you ask as you settle down.

"So far it's great," Jimin answers as he stretches back. "It's a great break from my job."

"Job addicted much?" you tease, mercilessly.

"More or less," Jimin shrugs. "Or I want to succeed in life, unlike some other people." He gives you a mocking look.

"Excuse me, Jimin, but I have over a hundred in half of my classes," you say proudly. "I think I'll succeed."

"What a smartass," he chuckles, flicking water at you. "Teachers should stop having extra credit opportunities."

You huff, splashing your teacher with water, specifically aiming for his hair.

"Hey!" he shouts. "Not the hair!"

"Yes, especially the hair!" you shout back as you splash him with water again.

"Oh, it's on Y/N," Jimin yells as he sends you a huge wave of water that hits you smack in the face.

"Oh you lil—"

"Careful, Y/N, I'm still your teacher," Jimin teases as he flicks water at you again.

"Careful, Jimin, you still harassed me,” you tease right back.

"Harassed?" Jin asks as he slips into the hot tub with two buckets of ice cream. "What's that about?"

You and Jimin both jump, not hearing Jin walking in.

"Harassed? Who said anything about harassed?" you quickly say out of panic. But you're basically the worst liar in the history of worst liars.

"I literally... heard you," Jin says suspiciously.

Jimin sighs. "I was harassing her," he pauses as your eyes widen and your heart drops, "with water." You lean back and sigh in relief.

Jin takes a look at Jimin's soaked hair and your soaked face. "You two..." he sighs, mock-shaking his head. "Whatever. Have some ice cream, dorks."

Your trip to the beach with your teacher and your cousin wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. In fact, you thought it had been eventful and fun. To your surprise, you and Jimin had been able to get along quite smoothly despite your rough or er... heated start. By the end of the trip, both of you had basically made a joke out of the drunk make-out session, as if it weren't much of a deal anymore.

Still, you didn't know if you'd roll so smoothly in school.

When you walk into your math class, you glance at Jimin but look away quickly before he sees you. Sliding into your seat and taking out your pencil case, you keep your head low and watch the feet of your classmates scurry on into class.

As soon as the bell rings, you see from out of the corner of your eye, Jimin standing up. "I've graded your quizzes," he announces.

A collection of loud groans echo throughout the classroom.

"Y/N's probably the highest score again," someone whines.

"How'd you guess?" Jimin jokes, handing you your quiz back. And sure enough, a big, fat 100 is circled in the very front. Your quiz looks the same as you turned it in.

You take short glimpses of the other quizzes as your teacher passes them out and shrink back in shock.

There are more red marks than the white paper itself on most of them. Your classmates literally look like all the energy had been drained from them as they clutch their quizzes in shock.

"It was a hard one wasn't it?" Jimin says as he walks to the front of the class.

You're in shock. You thought it wasn't that bad.

"I'll curve the quiz," Jimin says. The whole class cheers as you smile too. That'd make you get over 100% again. "Now all of you can spend the rest of class correcting your quizzes," Jimin announces. "Ask each other for help. I'll be at my desk if you have any questions."

As soon as Jimin turns and walks to his desk, your classmates jump out of their seats and run to the back of the classroom, giggling and shrieking about their quiz scores. You're never a part of this.

Maybe because you don't have anything to correct, but also because you don't fit in—and you don't want to.

You turn over your quiz to hide your score and set it aside. Then, you take out the homework you've already accumulated from your earlier classes; you start to work. About thirty minutes in, you decide to take a small break and lean back, stretching your neck and back.

You look up slightly to see that Jimin was watching you. Cocking your head, you watch as Jimin gives you a small smile. You smile back, nodding your head slightly.

You guess it isn't that awkward. At least... not anymore.

When the bell rings, Jimin stands in front of the classroom door and collects the quizzes. You're always the last one out—mostly because your classmates practically fly out of class as soon as the bell rings.

Jimin takes your quiz off your hands and smiles. "Hey, nice job on the quiz," he says. "Have a good lunch, Y/N."

"Thanks," you reply. "You have a good lunch too."

If only he knew you ate alone.

—previous | next

—masterlist

[kaffeinic]

Caffeinic | Bang Chan

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | Epilogue

Pairing: Reader x Barista!Bang Chan

Genre: Neutral // Angst Maybe? // Romance

Warnings: None

Preamble: You’ve been going to the same coffee shop for the past four years. You’ve ordered the same thing almost every single day, and you never, ever skip on that part of your morning. So, when Mrs. Park hired a new barista and the once serene café was suddenly flooded with people every second of the day, you were less than thrilled.

You stood outside of the cafe’s entrance, debating whether or not to enter. It has been two days since the date, and you had been actively avoiding the building. Unfortunately, you just ran out of coffee and really, really wanted the coffee that’s made here. You crossed your fingers, hoping that Mrs. Park was manning the floor this evening.

You flinched when the bell above the door trilled as you entered, hoping it didn’t draw any unwanted attention. You peeked at the work station, checking for any signs that Chan was in today. You cursed yourself for never having asked what his schedule was. You only saw Mrs. Park, who frowned when she saw you.

“Y/n, it’s been a while. Are you alright?” She asked, placing a mug on the counter. You nodded and smiled.

“Yeah, of course.” You replied. She cocked an eyebrow, scoffing.

“You are most definitely not fine, and I don’t appreciate being lied to.” She said, wagging a finger in your direction. Your eyes widened as you stopped in your tracks. “You haven’t been in for days and Chan has never looked more depressed.” Mrs. Park said. You looked down.

“It’s fine, I just didn’t want to come in.” You said. You weren’t lying.

“Then tell me why.” She said. You placed your bag on the bar counter, sliding into a seat.

“I really don’t think it’s my place to say.” You said. She looked down and laughed a little.

“That’s exactly what Chan told me.” She explained. “Tell me what happened.” You hung your head low.

“We just fought.” You finally said. She squinted at you, trying to find any indication whether what you said was true or not.

“Ah, I see.” She said, turning. She had grabbed the mug and hung it up behind her. “I was afraid this would happen.” She mumbled.

“Afraid what would happen?”

“That girl would do something to you two.” She said. “She seemed like trouble.” You let out a sigh.

“It wasn’t her. Chan lied to me.” You said. “Or, at least he broke a promise, which is kind of like lying.” You corrected yourself. Mrs. Park frowned.

“What did he promise you?” She asked.

“I really shouldn’t get into it.” You said. “It’s not fair for me to tell everyone about something like this.” You explained. She hummed and nodded, looking down.

“I had such high hopes for you two.” She said. “What would you like to order today, dear?” She asked. You told her your order, pulling out your textbook. You flipped through the pages, not really paying much attention to what they said. You heard the bell ring, signaling you that there was a new customer. You looked up to see Junseok.

“Hey, Y/n~!” He said, waving. He made his way over to you, smiling. “How’ve you been feeling?”

“So-so. What about you?” You said. He frowned, but understood.

“I’m doing alright, thanks. Can I sit here?” He pointed to the stool next to you. You hummed and smiled.

“Of course.”

He took his seat, placing his book bag on the counter next to yours. “I have a lot of studying to do.” He said. You could see three textbooks protruding from the open end of his bag. He wasn’t exaggerating.

“I felt that.” You said, laughing a little. “Which classes?” You asked.

“Anatomy, calculus, and biology.” He said. You raised a brow.

“Are you a medical major?” You asked. He nodded.

“Yeah. It’s always been a passion for me. What about you?” He asked.

“I haven’t decided yet.” You explained, sighing. “I really should, though.” Junseok chuckled at your exasperation.

“Take your time.” He said. You smiled at his kindness, nodding.

“Alright.” You heard footsteps coming from the employee room, looking up to see a very tired-looking Chan. He ran a hand through his locks, frowning.

“I’m ready to take over. You can go now, Mrs. Par-” He stopped in his tracks when he saw you.

“Thank you, Chan. I’ll see you in a few hours.” Mrs. Park briskly walked past all of you and to the stairs, smiling devilishly. Chan slowly walked over to the both of you, looking at Junseok.

“Would you like something to drink?” He asked. You could faintly see his teeth grit while he spoke. Junseok shook his head.

“I think I’m good for now, thanks bro.” He said.

“You can’t be here if you don’t order anything.” Chan’s voice had become lower, as if he was warning Junseok about something. It took a moment, but then the situation hit you; He was jealous. You rolled your eyes.

“I’ve been here a lot without ordering anything, and the café is pretty much empty. I think he’s fine, Chan.” You said, looking back down at your textbook. You scribbled a note and looked over to Junseok, smiling. He returned the gesture.

“I can order something if you want. It’s not a big deal.” He said. Chan huffed, whipping out a notepad.

“What can I get you?” He asked.

“I think I’ll get a macchiato.” Junseok said. “It’s been a while.” Chan nodded and scribbled the order down, turning away to brew Junseok’s coffee. You glanced between the two boys and sighed softly. It was going to be a long day.

The next few minutes passed peacefully, you and Junseok reading your textbooks and discussing, while Chan prepared the macchiato. The café received no new customers in that time, which you were thankful for. You sighed softly and closed your book.

“I think I need a break.” You admitted. Junseok looked up at you from his textbook, which had a large picture of what you could only imagine was some part of the human body. He nodded.

“I could use one, too.” He said. “Do you want me to take you home?” He asked. You shook your head.

“I’m fine. I think I can get there myself. It’s nice out.” You said. “I might want some more coffee before I leave. You can go if you want.” He hummed.

“Alright. Shoot me a text if you change your mind about that ride.” He said, gathering his things. You nodded and watched him exit the café.

“He didn’t even drink his coffee...” Chan muttered to himself as he took the half-full mug. You pursed your lips.

“I don’t always drink my coffee.” You said. “Just because he’s my friend doesn’t mean he can’t be yours.” Chan scoffed.

“He’s made it very clear he wants to be more than friends with you.” He said.

“I’ve made it clear that I don’t.” You retorted. Chan’s gaze never found yours throughout the entire conversation. “You-” You stuttered. “You don’t get to be mad at me.” You said. This time, he looked at you.

“I’m not mad at you.”

“You also don’t get to dictate who I spend my time with. Treating Junseok like crap isn’t going to help you.”

“I’m-” He said. “I’m not trying to.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “Is now a good time for you to let me explain?” He asked. You shook your head.

“You admitted to kissing someone after you told me you wouldn’t do anything like that with other people. I don’t want to hear it. No explanation is going to help you.” You said. He frowned and nodded.

“I’ll try again later.”

Most of the next twenty minutes were spent with the occasional customer coming in, the sound of the coffee grinder going off every few minutes, and the smell of mixed colognes and perfumes irritating your senses. You began get up after your umpteenth cup of coffee, but stopped.

“Chan?” You said. He perked up and looked in your direction. “I’ll let you try to explain.” You couldn’t leave what both of you had without at least letting him try to explain the situation. He smiled weakly and nodded.

“I had gone back to the party after bringing you home, mostly to hang out with Junseok.” He began. “We were messing around, watching all of the drunk people being idiots. One of them came up to me - I don’t even know her name - and just laid one on me. Apparently, they were playing some hybrid of spin the bottle and truth or dare, and she was dared to kiss someone in the room.” He looked at you and frowned. “That person was me. I pushed her away the second it happened, I swear.” He said. You looked at him, contemplating how to feel.

If he was telling the truth, then it’s more than likely that Seoyeon used the incident to split you two up. If he’s lying, which people aren’t unknown to do, then you’d just be falling into the arms of a playboy. You hummed, and nodded.

“Thanks for telling me, but I need to just think about it for a while.” You said. Chan nodded in understanding.

“Take all the time you need.” He said. “In the meantime, I’ll try to find a way to prove it.” He paused. “Why didn’t Junseok tell you?” He asked.

“I never told him about it.” You admitted. Chan raised a brow.

“I thought for sure that you would have told him.”

“It’s not my place to tell everyone about things that happen between us.” You explained. “Even if I’m hurting.” Chan’s gaze softened.

“I get it.” He said. “Will I see you tomorrow?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” You told him. He looked at his hands and grabbed a wet mug.

“Alright.” He said.

~

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I’ve been getting lots of positive feedback for Caffeinic and it truly makes me so happy to see how much you all enjoy this! Also, wow, we just hit double digits for the chapter count! Let’s have a party! 😂 Let me know if you would like to be put on my Taglist. As always, if you enjoyed, please drop a like and reblog for your friends to read! Have a nice day~~

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