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intoanothermind · 4 years

Text

The Glue - Part Four

T H E G L U E

Word Count: 2.1k words

Synopsis: Glue or Variable? This is the big question about Frankie’s existence. Assigned to the same role as Newt in WCKD’s Lethal Experiments, Frankie suddenly realizes that she will become just a variable to activate brain reactions in her former Group A friends. Without memories and being the only girl among several boys, she has the feeling of already knowing some of them. The new question that matters to WCKD is: will Frankie play her role as a variable correctly?

- Newt x OC (Frankie)

Masterlist

(This will be a miniseries of Newt from Maze Runner. It will consist of 7 parts and a spin-off. I won’t do a reader insert as usual, but you will soon understand why.)

—

P A R T F O U R

The girl shifted in her bed unable to sleep. At the age of fifteen, she was about to have hormones on her skin, and her recent thoughts were bothering her to the point of dropping her sleep. She had grown there inside the CRUEL, not just mentally. Not only the girl, but her friends also developed and she found herself thinking of one of them more and more often. The skinny little boy had become a handsome teenager, still thin, but with more apparent and defined muscles.

Her blond hair darkened to almost brown, and although she still had a few childish features, Newt had become a handsome young man. Cuter than the girl had imagined before. And thinking so much about her friend made the girl restless under her own skin. The girl looked around at the girls she had known for years: Teresa, Rachel, Alice, Skylynn, Hayley, and several others she had not had as much friendship with as the first. He lifted his chin to read the inscriptions on the metal sign hanging a few months ago on his headboard.

Franklin

Group B

Subject 5

The glue

The words, so similar to Newt's inscriptions, gave the girl a certainty: She couldn't sleep until she saw him.

The girl got rid of the covers as if they were a straitjacket. Feeling slightly more relieved, she checked to see if the other girls slept and crept out of the room when she realized yes. He only bothered to silence his steps, knowing that no one else would be awake at this hour. For a second she stopped, thinking Newt would be asleep too , but then she remembered that he didn't mind being woken up by her. Smiling, she continued her way down hallways she knew as the back of her hand. He opened the door to bedroom GA1-10 , silently counting five beds, and headed for it. The boy in bed 2 shifted, and the girl stopped, mentally praying that Thomas would n't wake up and see her there.

Your request has not been fulfilled.

- Frankie? He asked, his voice slurred and sleepy. - Why are you here?

The girl swore silently before answering.

"I can't sleep, and I came to see Newt." She confided. Although not as friendly with Thomas as she was with Newt and Minho, she saw no problem talking to him.

“Al right!” She could have sworn Thomas rolled his eyes, but it was too dark to know. “Just don't wake up everybody.”

The girl smiled, even though she knew he couldn't see it. “Thank you, Tommy!” She whispered.

Thomas waved at her and lay back down. The girl continued on her way, not really caring if the others were already awake. Thomas was part of the new Creators, so if he allowed it, anyone else's opinion was disposable. She saw Newt in his bed, lying almost on the edge of the bed and leaving much of it free, as if already anticipating her arrival. She smiled, approaching the boy with soft blonde hair and angelic serene features. She sighed, lying on the bed and settling beside him. Newt shifted, as if recognizing her physical and mental presence there, and his foggy brown eyes widened, understanding his predicament.

“Frankie?”

“Hi blondie.” She whispered, smiling slightly.

“What are you doing here?” Newt asked, closing his eyes momentarily with sleep, but pulled the girl's lean body to tuck her against him.

She shuddered at his touch, but tried not to show too much.

“I can’t sleep.” She whispered, her face buried in the boy's broad chest. "My thoughts won't let me relax."

“What thoughts?” Newt asked , still with his eyes closed, as he reached a hand to her friend's hair and stroked the brown strands.

The girl cringed. “Better not to know.”

“You know I won't give up until I can't anymore, don't you?” He asked, and the girl realized that this could be her chance. Her chance for a first love or losing her best friend.

But she realized she wanted to risk it. For Newt she would risk her life.

“Newt.” She called, her tone lower. “Do you really want to know what bothers me so much lately?" She asked before she lost her nerve.

“Of course I want.” he replied, feeling the anxiety almost waking completely.

He wanted to know. Newt had realized that the girl had been lost in thought and always blushed when he drew her out of her mind, and became increasingly curious about it. She shifted in his arms carefully, and Newt pulled back a little, waiting for her to adjust. But he felt his heart explode in a swirl of sensation as he felt her lips on his. Newt opened his eyes in surprise, but when he realized that his dreams really did come true, he closed them again, enjoying the cherry and chocolate taste of his girl's lips. He wrapped her around the waist and she seemed to relax in his arms, parting her lips to receive his tongue.

The girl was ecstatic. Finally had taken the courage to do what her body and heart have long asked, and one felt the happiness when Newt responded. She had been unsure at first, as she had never kissed anyone before, but when the blonde squeezed her around the waist and as he explored her mouth further, she relaxed and stopped caring about it. Nothing else mattered but her along with him and the happiness that took her completely. When the air was needed between them, the girl broke away from Newt, breathing hard, but with her eyes closed to avoid seeing his reaction. Although Newt responded to her kiss, she didn't know what to expect from now on.

"Frankie..." Newt began, choking on the words, and the girl opened her eyes. “That was...”

"Sorry, Newt, I shouldn't have come." She whispered, still worried that the others would wake up.

She was about to get rid of Newt's arms and get out of there never to look back in his face in shame when he stopped her. The girl looked up, finding his brown eyes shining to her. Her small hands were flat against the boy's chest, which held one hand around her waist like a cage and the other caressing her cheek fondly. Newt leaned down and touched his lips to hers in a simple peck full of affection and desire.

"You have no idea how long I waited for this." She heard him murmur against her lips, and smiled, her heart bursting with even better sensations than before.

“Good to know.” She whispered, her fresh breath hitting the boy's lips, which shuddered.

"You know I won't let you get away, don't you?" He whispered.

The girl smiled and kissed him again, promising she didn't intend to run away from him.

Never.

Not from him.

~ * ~

I woke up from my dream with my body being rocked. I opened my eyes slowly, trying to drive drowsiness out of my body. I blinked several times, trying to wake up. It wasn't enough to wake me up, but I could see that it was Minho who was rocking me. He grinned, making his eyes even smaller as soon as he saw me awake.

“Minho?” I asked, looking around and noticing that no one else was near the edge of Deadheads, where I slept.

Ben was in the distance, waving at us as he waited for the Doors to open on a new morning.

“I came to say goodbye.” Minho answered, capturing my attention again. I raised an eyebrow in question and he shrugged. "I missed you and decided I could say goodbye to you every day."

I smiled, nodding. “Of course! And I'll be waiting for you every day on the way back.”

Minho smiled back, leaning over me to kiss me on the cheek before running toward the already opening doors. As soon as he was out of my sight, even before reaching the Doors, I turned aside, trying to sleep again, but couldn't. Rough thoughts disturbed my mind, and I felt some sort of struggle or anguish in my chest. As if I was predicting something bad that could happen. I simply shook my head, dispelling the melancholy thoughts, and stood up. I didn't do much different from the day before - I just tucked my sleeping bag between two roots and fixed my hair with my fingers. The difference is that I could go to Homestead to brush my teeth. Which was a blessing when Newt provided me with a brush the day before.

I scratched my right eye to ward off sleep, and headed for headquarters. I was about to enter the bathroom when I was barred.

“Good morning, Frankie!” Exclaimed Newt excitedly.

I giggled. “Good morning, Newt.”

“I'll let you use the bathroom, but I wanted to warn you that today you're going to work with the Builders, all right?” he said.

“Sure.” I nodded in agreement.

~ * ~

“Frankie, I already said you better go work with Frypan.” Said Gally, possibly for the tenth time.

“Greg challenged me.” I said, shooting a hard stare to Greg, who worked not far from us. “And besides, it's my bathroom you're building.”

I kept carrying a few logs that had come with me to the Box until I tripped over my own feet and almost fell to the ground if it wasn't for Gally's quick reflexes.

“All right, Greenie?” Asked Gally, and I nodded back.

“That's what you get letting a little girl do men's work." I heard Greg mutter and I had to take a deep breath to control my anger.

“Stupid slinthead.” I muttered under my breath, but Gally could hear it and giggled.

"Why won't you help Frypan or Chuck in the kitchen?" Suggested Gally again.

I snorted mentally. “Why do you want to get rid of me so much?!”

"It's not to get rid of you." Said Gally, a little uncomfortably. "But if you get hurt, Newt eats me alive."

I frowned. "And why would he do that?"

Gally bit her lip, seeming to hold back the laugh and as if he knew something I didn't know.

"You have no idea, do you?" He asked with an enigmatic smile.

“Of what?” I asked, increasingly confused.

Gally shook her head but kept silent.

“Go before you get hurt.” He insisted again, and I got annoyed.

I threw the logs on the floor and marched furiously into the kitchen. Frypan was busy with dinner, and I preferred not to get my hands dirty. What if my food wasn’t good enough, and the boys hated it? I would rather not be screwed the rest of my life.

"Something for me to do, Frypan?" I asked him, propping my hip on the sink beside him. "Preferably not involve me cooking anything at all."

Frypan laughed and waved to the back of the kitchen.

“Chuck is back there cleaning the tank. What do you think about helping the boy?”

I made a face but nodded. “Better than spoiling the food here.”

~ * ~

“Tired already?” asked Minho, and I just mumbled an answer.

With my head down between my arms crossed on the table, all I could think about was sleep. My day was tiring, and not just working with the Builders or in the kitchen - or even going to wait for Minho in front of the West Door - but it was my mind that was exhausted too. I was just on my third day there in the Glade, and I was as confused and stressed as someone who had spent years there, like some of those boys.

"Wouldn't you rather go to sleep, Frankie?" Newt asked right next to me.

I raised my head slightly from the dining table where we were sitting, seeing Newt, Alby, Minho, Chuck, and some of the Keepers looking concerned at my decaying appearance that was calling for a good, wonderful night's sleep.

“All right, I'm going.” I muttered, rising from the table. “Good night.”

I got a lot of good night murmurs back, and for a second I considered inviting Chuck to sleep with me, but dismissed the idea when I saw him having a good time talking to Jeff, one of the Med-jacks. When I reached the edge of Deadheads, I didn't think much before grabbing my sleeping bag and crossing the skeletal, gray trees that hid the beautiful, living forest behind them. All I wanted now was a good place to sleep and hide from what tomorrow awaited

#newt #newt tmr #the maze runner #thomas tmr #thomas #newt x reader #newt imagine #minho tmr #minho #minho x reader #thomas x reader #the maze runner imagine #maze runner #thomas sangster

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missinghan · 4 years

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dawn ⤖ lee minho

❖ genre : runaway! au; demon!au; fluff; angst

❖ word count : 10k.

❖ warning : explicit language, mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : it seems like everyone has their own guardian angel, everyone but you because you’ve given up on Jesus the moment you come down to Lee Minho’s level and shake hands with the Devil.

one.

Your dad is definitely not gonna approve of you hanging by the bar alone after midnight.

It all happened too fast, and you don’t even know where you’re going next. After a call from your manager, which you almost fell asleep as he rambled about boring paperwork, until he dropped the bomb. He said he was sorry for what he’s gonna say next and turned out the label wanted to cut you loose. The entire universe was completely shattered right in front of your eyes. You were utterly speechless when the line went dead so long story short, you packed your bag and ran away.

Like a coward.

You stare blankly at the half-empty glass of Martini in your hand before chuckling lowly. Because life is a little son of a bitch, who’s born with the power to pull on everyone’s strings as if people are a bunch of puppets for whatever gods up there to entertain themselves. Getting signed into a music production company right after your graduation swept your life over with joy. Your parents were… overwhelmed to say the least but they still wanted you to move to Seoul. Two years later, your life once again was flipped upside down because of a single phone call. They didn’t even bother to call you in and meet face-to-face.

“Cheers to this motherfucker.” You almost laugh at your own miserable state but suppress it and down the whole glass in one go. “Another one.” You tell the barista absently and he just sighs before starting to mix your drink.

“Tough times ?” He leans over the counter and slides your drink across the wooden surface.

You gratefully take the glass, words slurred between hiccups. “You have no fucking idea.” Your eyes travel down from his defined features gleaming under the neon light to the name tag hanging off his white dress shirt. It reads ‘Kim Woojin’. You shake your head to lure the weariness away while your right hand reaching inside your pocket to pull out some cash.

But before you can place them on the table, Woojin stops you abruptly. “Keep a hold of them. This last one’s on me.” He sighs defeatedly. Judging by how you look right now, he must have thought that you’re some petty college girl who just got into a fight with her boyfriend and now you have nowhere to stay for the night so essentially, he wants to be certain that you’ll have enough money for a cheapass motel of some sort.

Woojin pats his wet hands onto the black apron wrapped around his hip. “You’ll need them more than I do.” And you feel kinda bad for him, partially because this place doesn’t serve cheap vodka like most bars, and partially because you’re now a somewhat burden to the bartender. “Listen, no matter how much bad shit happens, I’m sure you’ll be just fine. Besides, looks like that punk over there has already had his eyes on you the whole time.” He winks at you playfully before walking over to his coworker at the other side of the counter.

Speaking of the Devil… literally, not even sarcastically, a hollow presence seems to come into sight the moment you place your lips on the rim of the glass. You automatically reach your hand backwards only to find exactly what you’re looking for. “Do not touch me.” You deadpan, normally you would have felt bad by now upon your sudden discourtesy but unfortunately you’re not in the mood to be kind today. Hearing his melodic chuckle, you yank his hand away rather harshly, the coldness of his touch still chills you to the bone.

“Why so sad, bunny ?” He moves over to sit down on the nearby wooden bench, lips curled into a devilish smirk. Out of 7 billion people on this glorious plant, he chooses to pester a mundane mortal like you. Out of 365 days of the year, he chooses to visit you on the worst day of your life. Lee Minho is worse than Lucifer, it’s official.

Not enjoying your dull state, he cocks a brow at you. “You’re jobless because that stupid label doesn’t need you anymore. And now what ? Are you gonna be petty and depressed about it for the rest of your life ? Because if so, you’ll have a really shitty life Y/N. Do you really want your demons to come out and conquer the path ahead like it’s their fucking playground ?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Said a demon himself.”

“Then aren’t humans the closest things that we have to demons alive ?” Minho almost snickers at your suggestive remark, but he wouldn’t admit that it did sting a bit. After all, he is a demon, an epitome of a creature that’s second to Lucifer and his descendants generation, highly worshipped and exceptionally feared. And he’s low-key impressed that you didn’t throw yourself out the window when he stepped out of a wisp of black smoke the day you two first encountered.

You on the other hand didn’t know that he was too utterly soft for you to actually erase your memories. From then on, he would visit you occasionally at the godly hour when you’re close to kicking yourself in the process of composing or when you accidentally fucked up something. ‘Til this day, you still don’t know whether his concern for you is pure sincerity or he just finds your first world problems very amusing. You can’t tell either way.

Taking another sip of your drink, you groan slightly at the slight burn in your throat from the strong alcohol. “I mean ... fair point.” Your lips pursed unknowingly. “I don’t know Minho… I think I must have done something fucking messed up to be kicked out of the game like that. I wasn’t even thinking straight, you know, just packed my stuff and drove downtown. Ugh now I feel like shit.”

The demon in front of you glares at the glass of Martini coldly. He’s not letting you finish that shit after who knows how much alcohol that Woojin has permitted you to drink. “Do you think that overcoming cowardice is easy ? If it was that easy, everyone would go outside to get some fresh air, smell some flowers, meet new people; not fucking hide behind their screens and whatnot while talking trash about others like a bunch of scaredy-cats.” Minho spats, swiftly taking your drink away before you gulp it again.

Funny enough, you’re sitting at a bar with a demon, who’s obviously so done with your shit, but also the one that you have least expectations for listening and giving you advice. Just like how that one song goes.

Well, I shook hands with the devil

Down on the south side

And he bought us both a drink

With a pad and a pencil sat by his side

I said, "Tell me what you think".

Except that Minho didn’t buy you a drink, he actually stole yours.

“I may not know much about your world, but I’m confident that you’re very talented and passionate about what you’re doing. I saw how much effort you put into your work, staying up after midnight, heck, you barely got any sleep when you’re still working for that shitty company. I saw how much you care, Y/N and I don’t give two fucks about how much you’re doubting yourself because you’re so much more than that. I know you got this, you’re as stubborn as a human being can be, you’re not gonna let a tiny cut or bruised knee hold you back, are you ?”

You shake your head slightly, starting to acknowledge his words. You don’t get why you never noticed this but for a demon, Minho gives really good advice. In spite of his cocky personality because he thinks that he has every right to sass every human being out whenever wherever he wants to, his company always makes you feel fuzzy inside. It’s almost heartwarming but that makes no sense because demons are nowhere near ‘sweet and caring’.

A strange look flashes in his eyes when his eyes meet yours but before you can properly react, it vanishes. “You’re not drinking ever again… at least not for the time being.” He tells you off with his eyes before chugging the whole glass. Woah, good shit, he admits internally. And he’s mildly surprised that you’re taking this better than he’d thought. Other young producers would have been bawling their eyes out by now, not talking to a creature from the underworld.

“Alcohol helps me sleep.” You pout slightly, feeling the need to actually pay Woojin back when you get paid again. Oh wait… but you’re practically unemployed. “Insomnia is painstakingly arbitrary, like a needle that’s constantly pricking my spine whenever I’m trying to get comfy in bed. Guess I’m not sleeping tonight, thanks a lot.” You huff and lean over on the wooden counter, cheek pressed against your left upper arm.

Although Minho thinks that you look ridiculously cute right now with tinted pink cheeks and messy hair, he’s still not gonna buy you another drink. “They do say that insomnia is just another word for chit chatting with the demons during bedtime. And you’ve already wolfed down three fucking Vodka Martinis by the time I teleported here, aren’t you concerned about the stupid hangover tomorrow morning ? I swear to Lucifer— are you even listening to me right now ?”

Minho asks in disbelief when you stay unresponsive. The demon peels his eyes away from the empty glass and turns his head only to find you already fallen asleep, like a bear in hibernation. Your eyes are closed shut, chest heaving up and down rhythmically as you drift away from the cruel reality and into dreamland. Truth be told, you tend to fall asleep whenever he’s lecturing you a lot, and that gives him an excuse to stay for a little more than he should.

two.

Hangover hits you with a bang, almost knocks you out cold. But it’s not going to let you pass out, at least not before you start regretting the amount of alcohol that you chugged last night. Your eyes are still screwed shut, refusing to flutter open as your head throbs uncontrollably. Usually you would have been awake by now since you’re dumb enough to have white curtains instead of colored ones which helps the sunlight goes right through your apartment.

But something seems off today because there’s nothing that’s bothering your eyes. And you would definitely sleep in if it wasn’t for the strange feeling beneath your skin. Wait a second… A worrisome feeling runs down your spine, causing your eyes to open. You look down and check your clothes properly, everything stays the same except for… hold on, since when did you have a silky black sheet ?

“You woke up, finally. Be grateful that you’re on time for breakfast.” Someone’s voice booms in the distance when your eyes adjust themselves on the foreign surroundings. The studio apartment in front of you has your jaw dropped to the floor. Minimal yet modern pieces of furniture, a fully equipped kitchenette and an enormous window that gives you a breathtaking view of the whole city. This isn’t your apartment, is it ?

You groan loudly before pushing yourself off the bed and shiver slightly when your feet come in contact with the cold floor. “Tylenol’s on the table, you’re welcome.” Minho says nonchalantly as he has his back against you. You drag yourself to the dining table and pop the pills into your mouth before downing the glass of water beside them.

Yeah, no, you’re not drinking ever again.

“What are you doing ?” You ask him in a raspy tone and sniff your nose continuously at the aroma that’s filling the entirety of the apartment. Minho stays silent, deciding to fully concentrate on his current task. When you suddenly approach him from behind and place your head lazily on his shoulder, he almost drops the pot of freshly made soup. His chest swells a bit whenever you get close to his body, whether it is because it’s all in his head or just you having that kind of effect on him, he dares not to know.

“Tsk, you’re in my way, shoo.” He sneers, motioning for you to move so that he can transfer the pot over to the table in peace. Minho quickly scoops the thick liquid into a smaller bowl and gives you a look. You just stare at the hearty soup in complete awe, mouth slightly watered. No one has ever cooked for you before, much less a pot full of hangover soup. And you would be lying if you said that you’re not touched right now because you feel like it’s been forever since you’ve had homemade food.

Lee Minho never changes, still ever so caring.

He sits down at the table and pushes the bowl towards you. “Eat this and write me a 1000 words essay for instant feedback later.” Without a word, you automatically take a spoonful into your mouth, almost choking because of how hot it is. “Dude, it’s not 1945 anymore. If this goes on, you’re not gonna die from anything other than choking yourself.” He purses his lips at your eagerness, dabbing the excess soup away with a napkin on the corner of your lips.

After coughing furiously, you figure that your voice can finally function normally. “I didn’t know that you can cook, god this soup is everything.” In the next ten minutes, you finish inhaling the whole bowl as if you’ve walked through the desert, searching for an oasis for a week straight.

You’ve never let anyone cook for you other than your parents because one, none of your friends can cook, Changbin almost burnt your apartment down while Jisung came up with the idea to crack eggs with a knife; and two, you still remember a creepy story you once heard on a podcast vividly. Basically, there’s this girl who allowed her date to make her a meal on their very first encounter. She was hospitalized a week later, suspecting food poisoning but the test results came out as cannibalism. Yikes.

“Demons eat souls, not human flesh you paranoid bitch.” Minho reads your thoughts in a matter of seconds before taking his wooden spoon and smack you on the head. He looks unimpressed right now, he really does because he’s so over your delusional ass from binge-watching way too many investigation related shows at three a.m. “They’re not even that tasty, I’d rather have a boring sandwich.”

You scoff at him, rubbing the spot where he hit previously. “You can’t have mine then, it’s too dark for you.”

“A ‘thank you’ would be nice.” He almost grit, lips pressed into a thin line.

You stand up from the wooden stool and carry the dishes over to the newly renovated silver sink. “This is your place ?” You ask while turning on the faucet to spray water all over the dirty bowl. “It’s really nice, not gonna lie. Just not as nice as mine.”

When you’re having your back against him, Minho looks somewhat guilty. What would Hyunjin say if he found out that his roommate brought a mundane mortal home and even made her a bowl of hangover soup ? “For the time being, it is.” Whatever, Hyunjin’s staying in Italy for a good two weeks anyway. With a little bit more effort of ridding off your human scent and reorganize some stuff, Minho can pretty much pass without being suspected. “And what do you expect ? That I’m gonna leave you at the bar where sketchy people are getting wasted ? FYI, a demon doesn’t necessarily have to own a place where it’s just full of miserable souls swimming around. I take my beauty sleep very seriously, actually, all of us do. Even Satan.”

You carefully line the dishes up on the white rack next to the sink and sighs. “Beauty sleep ? I don’t know her.” When you turn around to face Minho, his lips are slightly curled upwards. “What, Minho ?” You ask, slightly annoyed.

He props his head onto his palms and cocks his head to the side. “What will you do now ? Going home is a no-no, obviously, and I believe that your coworkers/best friends are flipping the whole city upside down looking for you so your apartment isn’t really an option anymore. What’s next Y/N ?”

You think for a bit and hum. “Technically I’m running away ...so…why not make the best out of it ?” Then, something clicks and your eyes lit up in mischief. “I have an idea. It’s genius, a fucking genius idea.”

Minho immediately shakes his head furiously, looking like he’s encountering a panic attack. “Hate it.”

“You love it, don’t even lie to yourself.”

“It’s humiliating.”

You reach your hands inside your pocket to look for your keys. “Too late.” That’s when Minho knows that he doesn’t have a say in this.

three.

“You know what’s more fun than this ?” Minho supports himself on his knees as his breaths come in short, he feels like he’s gonna throw up. Being on a rollercoaster is most definitely scarier than attending a meeting with the Underworld Authority. He still doesn’t get why humans enjoy torturing themselves as a form of pure entertainment when they can do something like educate themselves by reading more books. “Hearing Lucifer play the fiddle, the Devil plays it damn good and a fun demon to hang around. He’s a real entertainer, trust me. Just hire a lawyer beforehand if you’re signing any contract with him.”

Minho’s making it sound like you’re planning on having ‘a thing’ with Lucifer meanwhile he practically follows you everywhere, watches your every move and you think that’s close enough for an example of the infamous slavery contract.

You run a hand through your hair and exhale in satisfaction. Since middle school, you haven’t really got a chance to come to amusement parks before. You’re far too caught up with the new tempo to life these days. “Come on, it’s not that bad. It ain’t my fault when you can’t teleport us both to somewhere further.” You almost laugh at his current state; disheveled hair, beads of sweat rolling down on his forehead, and he looks as pale as a ghost like he just saw one. Not like he’s terrified of ghosts or anything, actually, he might be scared of heights.

“You can’t teleport with me for fuck’s sake, even when I want to, you’ll end up disintegrating into dusts forever because your mortal body doesn’t have enough energy to recollect itself piece by piece.” Minho grits and shakes his head slightly to adjust the messy mop of hair on his head. He looks really cute, you think. Like a cat that’s trying to clean itself but can’t quite reach the itchy spot.

Upon your stubbornness because he knows too well that you just wanna see him being drowned in misery, Minho can’t help but roll his eyes. “And can you get any dumber ? You have a fucking Range Rover and a valid license. Technically, there’s no law against driving with a demon sitting in your vehicle. Ugh, I really should have left you at the bar last night.”

Right when you’re about to snap back at him with a witty comment, your phone buzzes loudly. And your eyes are about to jump out of their sockets the moment you open up the device. There are more than thirty missed calls, from your family and friends along with countless texts filled with nothing but concern. Changbin and Jisung both work under the same label as you so you assume that your family already knew everything. Now you feel guilty for running away so spontaneously because after all, you do have people who are always willing to be there for you.

[ 3:25pm ]

jisung | dude, I’m outside, open up

jisung | we know everything already

changbin | Y/N I’m bringing food over, you’re gonna binge-watch Netflix with us whether you want to or not

[ 3:27pm ]

jisung | uhm, hello ? Y/N ?

changbin | we’re breaking in if you’re not coming out, FYI

[ 3:35pm ]

jisung | you know I have the keys right, we’re gonna go in

changbin | this isn’t fucking funny

jisung | stop being such a stubborn piece of shit

[ 3:36pm ]

jisung | Y/N where the fuck are you ?!

changbin | …. look, just go home, your family are worried sick

[ 3:45pm ]

jisung | at least call me back ?

changbin | whatever you’re planning on doing, don’t do it

[ 9:23pm ]

chan | call me, I’m not going anywhere

Sensing your racing thoughts and seeing your tense posture, Minho swiftly takes your phone away from your hand and drops it into his pocket. The last thing he wants to see is you curled up into a ball and cry alone in the bathroom. “You’re so rude ? What kind of human are you, Y/N ? This is how you’re treating your date ?” He huffs, arms crossed in front of his chest like a little kid. But wait, a date ?

“This is not a date, Lee Minho, stop flirting with me.” You knit your brows together in confusion when his eyes twinkle. What’s with his demon nature being on steroids right now ? “Give me my phone.” You order.

“It’s a date when I say that it’s a date.” Minho reaches his hand outwards and links his fingers with yours. He quickly narrows the proximity between the two of you, backing you up against a wall. Utterly speechless, you find yourself dumbfoundedly melting into his touch. How can a demon possess such radiant warmth and tenderness ? Is it all just a facade or does he seem more human when he’s around you, you can’t tell either way. But what you do know is that when you relax a bit and let him hold your hand properly, it fits like a glove.

Minho cocks his head and cracks a smile. For the longest time, you’ve never noticed anyone looking at you with so much sincerity and affection. Maybe it’s all in your head after all. “What now ? You wanna watch a movie and put our hands into the popcorn at the same time to see what’ll happen or nah ?” You question, but it feels more like a question towards yourself.

Minho chuckles lightheartedly. “You’re so damn predictable Y/N.”

The rest of the night is absolutely magical. You feel like you’re acting in one of those One Direction’s music videos that’s not the typical ‘too good to be true’ kind. It really does remind you a lot of ‘Night Changes’ when Minho almost slips while holding onto you like a cat that just came in contact with water. Meaning, if it weren’t for your mediocre ice-skating skills way back from middle school, everything would have been exactly like the music video itself, in which you don’t mind. Because it’s Lee Minho, because his warm presence is something you never knew you needed in your life, because you always have this sense of comfort and happiness even when he starts cursing so loudly that your ears bleed. Demon or not, him being him is truly a blessing already.

Minho says. “I told you it’s humiliating.” He links your hand into his before stuffing it inside his pocket and drags you away from the front entrance. His hand’s got a lot warmer from staying inside his coat for so long and that makes him more human than ever. In which, makes you feel fuzzy.

“You freaking loved it, you can’t tell me otherwise.” You shake your head in denial.

“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes for the tenth time. “Let’s go home.”

four.

The next day, Minho somehow convinces you to drive back to your apartment for packing. Not for running away this time, he’s had enough of that shit. But for a trip back to your hometown instead ( you really should have gone deeper into his ‘let’s go home’ from last night ). The flight will take approximately ten hours or more so he only gives you two hours to pack before leaving. You basically spend half an hour picking out clothes from the messy walk-in closet and another ninety minutes to fit all of them into your suitcase while having a mental breakdown inside your head.

Because gosh, what would they think ?

You’ve scared them all shitless for the last two days and now you’re just gonna show up at the front door and go “Hey, I’m done being miserable now.” ? Sounds like a pretty solid plan but you doubt that your mom’s not planning to beat you up with her favorite broom that’s covered in nothing but dust and spiderwebs. Not to mention, your brother is definitely gonna grill your ass for causing such a commotion in your family. You can already imagine him waiting for you at the foyer with crossed arms, getting ready to lecture the heck out of you.

“Did you lose your favorite pair of shoes or something ?” Minho suddenly fades into your room, making you jump slightly. You’ve got used to his particular ways of intruding your personal space but the demon never seems to fail at surprising you.

You glare at him. “Look who’s being rude now.”

Minho purses his lips. “I didn’t know humans were notorious for being terribly indecisive when it comes to their belongings.” He almost sneers, leaning back against your bedroom wall.

“That’s not the problem.” Yeah, that’s not the problem because not every human takes pain in packing their stuff, it’s just a ‘you’ problem. “I’m coming home after scaring the shit out of my loved ones. I wouldn’t blame them if they hated me, it’s just that I don’t know what to say. What do I say in situations like this ? School didn’t teach me that.” A sigh escapes your lips as you kick your suitcase towards the door. And you’re kinda glad that Changbin and Jisung left your apartment last night, specifically when you called them at one a.m. because you were driving back with a demon right next to the shotgun window.

Minho politely grabs the doorknob and pushes the door open for you. Now that was a first. You almost smile at his out-of-nowhere kind gesture. Normally, he would have teleported to the front porch and complained about how you’re always taking so long. “Hurry up dumbass, we don’t have all day.” He raises his brow at your thoughts.

“Tsk, you’re not the one who’s driving.”

Minho can’t drive, sadly. Partially because he doesn’t see the point in moving around in a fucking box with four wheels when he’s fully capable of teleporting from one place to another within a snap of his fingers. And partially because he can’t afford erasing some cops’ memories because they might have some kind of innovative technology that’ll automatically record when things go down. Another reason is that he might or might not chug a whole bottle of whiskey while driving just because he feels like it.

“It’s cold, roll down the windows.” Minho reminds you when he enters your car because gosh, you always love to keep the temperature at a minimum of 71 degrees even when it’s freezing outside. His cold-hearted demon ass is quaking because another cold case remains another mystery for the entirety of humanity. “You’d be a badass demon, just saying. I’m surprised that you’re still alive at this point.” He shakes his head in disapproval and leans forward to turn off the AC. Not because he’s cold but he’s afraid that you’ll actually freeze to death before you two can even make it to the airport.

You kick the brake when the first red light occurs. “Just admit it, you’re cold. If anything, you can always hold my hand.”

“Okay,” He blinks numerous time at your reply. When did you become such a brat ? You’ve been acting like him these past few days and now he knows how it feels like. Woah, he does act like an old, bitchy cat. “Who taught you that ?”

You say, sparing him a slight smirk. “You know, only the best of the best.”

“Just don’t act like that in front of your parents, will you ?” Minho scrunches his nose at your particular way of having a civil conversation. “You did tell your parents right ?”

You nod. “Yeah, I told them that I was gonna go home sooner or later. I even texted Chan— OH MY GOD,” You let out the loudest gasp whilst trying to make sharp turn at an intersection.

“What the fuck is wrong with you ?” He gasps in disbelief at your sudden outburst, holding onto the side of your car for dear life.

“I can’t just bring a demon home !” You cry out. “You’d be considered safe if it weren’t for my brother. He just happens to be home for break. God, do you know how protective he is when it comes to bringing a guy home ?!” One time, you asked your desk mate from highschool to do a project at your house and Chan didn’t even hesitate to put him on trial. Luckily, they talked things out pretty smoothly and became friends later. Now Felix’s probably the only guy who wouldn’t be thrown off a cliff for breathing in the same room as you.

Minho stares at you weirdly for a full twenty seconds, and that makes you think he’s mentally judging you, which he totally is. “Wouldn’t me being your boyfriend the best option then ?”

“Are you dumb, or are you dumb ?” You haven’t dated anyone since elementary school and the relationship didn’t even last a week. And now out of nowhere you’re just gonna bring a ‘boyfriend’ home after running away ? That’s practically equivalent to adding fuel to the fire and you doubt that Minho’s comprehend the situation correctly. That’s it, you’re officially letting all hell break loose from here. “Yeah, go ahead and be my boyfriend if you wanna sleep with the fishes.”

He throws a look at you. “Is that a challenge ?”

“Better not dress like that in front of my family then.” You glance at his bold choice of a silky wine colored dress shirt along with leather pants and combat boots. Can’t have him walking around looking like a celebrity now, can you ? Although he does look good in them… so annoying.

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

However, Minho’s outfit is most definitely the least of your worries.

five.

“Don’t tell me that you thought this through because-“

Minho says in a hushed tone. “I did think this through, baby. Loosen up a bit.” A devilish smirk blooms on his lips as he tucks some loose strands of hair behind your ear. He really needs to stop doing that because you’re already a blushing mess. He switched out his usual clothes and went for a comfortable hoodie with some jeans and sneakers. You hate him even more now because the demon easily pulled off the perfect boyfriend look.

Grimacing, you slap his hand away. “I’m not your fucking baby. And keep your hands to yourself, will you ?” And with that, you turn on your heels and make a beeline towards the kitchen where everyone’s busy setting up the table, leaving him in the living room alone.

Minho unconsciously plops himself onto the white faux leather couch and looks around in awe. Your house sort of symbolizes you because it’s minimal in the best way with a white color scheme and the occasional colorful tiny details on some of the decorative pieces. He starts pondering about how you never told him anything about your family in Australia. And although you grew up in a pretty well-off household, you didn’t flaunt your wealth. That makes you much more admirable in his eyes because not everyone can keep their mouth shut for more than two seconds when it comes to money.

Truth is, when your parents saw Minho for the very first time, they totally freaked out and drove to the nearest supermarket to shop for more ingredients. Now the house is filled with the aroma of a variety of grilled meat, vegetables, seafood and rice. He finally understands why you’re always homesick because gosh, who wouldn’t miss this kind of homemade food ? Minho props his head onto his hand as he watches your hard-working back figure from the living room, arranging the dishes onto the dining table with a smile on your face. And that stirs something inside him, he just doesn’t want to know it yet.

And Berry - your very much spoiled dog - is absolutely terrified by his dark presence. She keeps barking whenever he tries to pick her up, then ends up whimpering in the corner later. “Berry, don’t be rude ! He’s no stranger to us now.” Your mom nags while looking at Minho with an apologetic look. “Minho, honey, come join us. There’s no need to be so formal.” She offers him a seat at your family’s table warmly and he can already see where you got your smile from.

When he beams at her words and quickly takes the seat right beside you, you secretly roll your eyes at him. “I didn’t know dogs were supposed to be scared of demons. This is so obvious.” As you continue to complain about how he’s not acting naturally and all in a small tone, your hand automatically reaches for the chopsticks and picks out some lamb loin chops onto his plate. Minho simply brushes your words off, muttering a quick ‘thanks babe’ before pressing a kiss on your cheek.

Your eyes widen in surprise at his action, immediately darting towards your family members else whom have already gathered around. But before you can react properly, your dad cuts you off. “How sweet of you two.” He shows that signature ‘dad smile’ which never fails to melt your heart. “Don’t they remind you of us when we were young, dear ?” He tells your mom.

“Certainly, I still remember how—“

“Uhm, so, how did you two meet ?” Your brother - Chan - who’s sitting across the table tries his very best not to gag and changes the topic before things get out of hand. Your dad used to tell you about his first encounter with your mom, their first date and etc.. as an alternative version for the regular bedtime stories session. Chan has known too much already.

“We met at a dinner through a mutual friend during her business trip to Paris. I knew she didn’t come from Europe so if I didn’t ask for her number then, we would never meet again.” Minho has already made up a story during the dreadfully long flight, now all he has to do is read outloud. Easy mode. “We kept in touch and eventually, I moved back to Korea to meet her and stayed with her since then.”

Chan hums as a response, he doesn’t hate Minho yet, you can tell. “Why didn’t you tell me about him, Y/N ? Dad was so close to talking to Felix’s parents about setting you two up.”

You gulp slightly to hide your nervousness. Under the table, Minho squeezes your hand in reassurance, and that gives you enough courage to explain slowly. “I didn’t want to freak you out with our long distance relationship. You might go nuts knowing that I’m dating a guy who I’ve only met once and he’s nearly six thousand miles away.” And setting you up with Felix ? You would never let that happen. Not in a million years. It makes you shiver just thinking about holding your highschool deskmate’s hand while walking down the aisle. “And dad, Lee Felix ? Really ? I would rather be single.”

Your dad laughs. “Come on, he’s a pretty decent boy. Too bad he’s traveling overseas right now or I might invite him over.”

“So, Minho,” Chan sips on his drink. “What do you do for a living ?” When you two arrived at the front door, he finds such little amount that Minho’s luggage holds a bit skeptical, as if your relationship and the idea of coming home happens overnight. And how he wears clothes pretty casual too for a first time meeting the parents but Chan knows better than to judge a book by its cover. However, he wants to make sure that your ‘boyfriend’ doesn’t do drugs of any kind.

Minho doesn’t even hesitate. “I’m a dancer and owns a dance studio with my friend after when I flew back to Korea. I was in Paris for an internship over the summer.” You just sit there, blinking at him in disbelief like a total dumbass. Now you’re starting to wonder how it feels like to dance with the Devil. And if it weren’t for him kicking your leg under the table, your face would have given it away.

“Hmm, interesting.” Chan nods in acknowledgement. Well, at least he’s not unemployed… could have been worse.

Your mom advises thoughtfully as she walks over to the kitchen aisle and refills the plate of beef. “Oh, and be careful with the sauce for the lamb, it’s quite hot. If you’re not good with spicy food, just leave it out.”

“No, it’s fine. Actually, I can handle spicy stuff pretty well.. unlike someone over here.” Minho glances over at you. You immediately gut him with your elbow, earning a low grunt followed by a lighthearted chuckle of your family members.

“Minho can handle spicy things only because he’s getting old. His taste buds are losing their senses.” Your comment is partially true because he once told you that he’s been around for quite awhile. Definitely a lot older than the new batch of demons. He stopped counting at some point but ensured you that it’s somewhere from fifteen thousand and twenty thousand.

Minho looks at your sternly as the corners of his lips curled up. You’re already low-key mortified of what he’s going to say. “If you’re gonna act like a brat for the rest of the night, I’ll have to make sure that your legs will lose their sense by tomorrow morning.” Yep, there it is. You’re so used to his flirtatious remarks to the point that they don’t faze you anymore but having your family witness this is another level of torture. Minho’s definitely the type of guy ( if he were an actual human being ) who can’t be bothered about publicity and would straight up kiss you in the middle of the street.

And it doesn’t help either when Chan just doesn’t laugh loudly at your ‘boyfriend’s’ less than appropriate joke, he’s also on his side. Along with your parents. “I like you, not everyone can make her shut up like that.” Your brother nods in approval, clapping happily like a seal. Your parents even supply unhelpfully. “Try to keep it down and use protection, okay kids ?” Is this what betrayal feels like ?

You feel so adopted at that moment.

six.

“What the hell are you doing here ?” You try to groan as quietly as possible when you find Minho creeping up to you in the living room. “What part of ‘you can take my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch, wake up before everyone else then come back to my room later on’ couldn’t you understand ?” A compromise was almost made, and he fucking blew it.

He chuckles and looks at you dreamily. For a second there, you really thought that he was sleep-walking. His brown hair is in a bird nest, accommodated by a pair of plaid pants and white t-shirt. This prick never fails to make your heart skip a beat. You’re glad that at least he doesn’t sleep shirtless like your brother. It gives you major nightmares since middle school just by waking him up every morning.

“I can’t sleep on a foreign bed..” Minho pouts. He really can’t, especially when you’re not around. And he’s not risking the chance of one of your folks or Chan accidentally. barging into the room when he’s doing some voodoo shit either.

You huff tiredly and walk over to him, grabbing the pillow from his arms before throwing it on the couch along with your blanket. Well, lucky him, your parents just happen to love ginormous couches and you’re far too lazy to drag him back to your bedroom. “Come here.” You order after plopping yourself onto the soft surface, letting out a prolonged yawn. Minho takes a good ten seconds to look at you again. He can’t help but keep staring like a creep when you’re in an oversized t-shirt with shorts underneath, exposing your bare thighs. You’re too cute for your own good.

You say when he remains silent. “Hurry up before I change my mind.”

He obediently nods, quickly settling down under the blanket. You two shuffle around for a bit until no one’s uncomfortable with less than a few inches away from each other. And when you decide to flip yourself over to face the wall, Minho gently pulls your back flush against his chest. Your eyes fly open at the sudden contact. “What-the-fuck-do-you-think-you’re-doing ?” You turn around and stare at him square in the eye.

Even in the dark, his eyes are gleaming with a demonic glint of silver. He beams innocently at your threatening tone. “Get comfortable ?”

“I mean…” You hesitate for a few seconds. Because you’d hate to admit but it does feel kinda nice having his warmth radiating off from underneath his thin shirt. It makes you feel fuzzy inside, more secure, more like you’re finally home. “If you don’t mind then…” You gather up every last bit of courage and energy to scoot yourself towards him, your arms snaking around on either side and hug his torso closer, your face buried in his chest.

And it takes every single strand of willpower for Minho to not jump and teleport to the nowhere. His breath starts to quicken when your body is practically attached to his. He didn’t expect this at all. It might be because you’re exhausted from the flight so you’re just far too sleepy to be conscious of your own actions. But anyhow, he’s not against the idea of having you in his arms like this. It makes him more relaxed knowing that you’re safe in his sound right here.

So Minho drapes one of his arms around your waist to hold you in place and the other underneath his head, straddling his legs with yours to keep them warm since you’re only wearing shorts. “Thanks for dinner, by the way.” He murmurs into your hair, taking in the scent of your familiar shampoo.

“If anything, you should be thanking my parents. They looked like they just saw Jesus when you first arrived.” You say and snuggle closer to him.

He chuckles, sending vibrations to the tip of your nose. “Admit it, your family’s in love with me. Even your brother isn’t half as bad as you made it sound. I think he would actually have nothing against our wedding.”

You make a face and lift your head upwards to look at him. “Dude, it’s just really good acting. Such a shame how the other Lee Minho gets the title of an actor when you’re over here stuck with being a demon.” If you’re being completely honest, you’re kinda scared right now. Because one, all of this is just a big play and when you fly back to Korea, it may seem like nothing has ever happened. And two, if this goes way too far, your family might disown you for ‘breaking up’ with Minho when he wasn’t even your boyfriend in the first place.

“Actually, I’d be glad to take the title of being your boyfriend instead.” And the thumping force inside your chest picks up the pace as you can feel your cheeks heating up. His simple acknowledgement makes you flustered, absolutely moonstruck. No one has ever said that to you before, well, partially because you’re super single but you can’t help but let those words affect you tremendously. “Where do you want to go for our honey—“

“We’re not getting married.” You hiss at him like a snake.

Minho draws a cat-like grin on his lips, mischief glistening in his eyes. “Nuh uh too late. I’ll consider you as my own from now on, Mrs. Lee.”

You reply flatly. “You talk a lot for a demon who treasures their beauty sleep. You’re not vampires and you don’t watch people in their sleep, do you ?” The only person Minho watches in their sleep is you, but he’s not saying that to your face. And that was one time, one-time.

Upon his silence, you raise a brow. “Wait, you do ?”

“Who I watch in their sleep is none of your business, Y/N.” He replies with flaming cheeks.

You giggle. “I knew it, you’re related to Edward Cullen.”

“No, not that bitch Edward !” Minho makes a disgusted face but can’t contain his laughter for long. God, what are you doing to him ?

seven.

You wake up with a cold sensation wrapping around your feet. With body shivering slightly, you instinctively nuzzle your head into the nearest heat source, retreating your legs deeper into the fuzzy blanket. Groaning, you shake your head slightly to shake the weariness away. This is why you hate long flights with a passion because you’re never not gonna be jet lagged for the rest of your life.

“Why do you always wake up so fucking early ?” Your eyes shoot open at the hoarse voice only to find Minho squinting his eyes at you sleepily with his bedhead and wrinkled shirt. He looks so human right now you can care less about the fact that you’ve just spent an entire night on your parents’ favorite couch with a creature from Hell. Definitely boyfriend material.

“My feet get cold easily in the morning, and that wakes me up.” You pout and hold his torso closer. Minho tries his best not to flinch when your arm brushes over his as the strangest warm feeling bubbles up inside his stomach. And you’re glad that he doesn’t snore and isn’t a messy sleeper. Just sleeps like the death, which makes sense. Unlike your best friend, Seo Changbin who sleeps like a fucking starfish with his four limbs wide open. Give him a king sized bed and he can still manage to have his blanket on the floor by the time the sun rises.

Minho runs a hand through the messy bird nest on his head which takes the breath right out of your lungs because it looks like those too good to be true shampoo commercials with people who have shiny, luminous hair. But those models spend hours on a wooden stool for their stylists to make it look like they didn’t even try but they’re not even close to Minho’s league because he needs none of that in order to look attractive.

Finally, he sighs. “Go back to sleep then.” He pulls the blanket down slightly to cover your feet completely and hugs your waist closer so that your upper body won’t be bothered by the morning breeze. “I’ll make breakfast later, what do your folks usually prefer ?”

You look up at him in awe. No one has ever offered such a sweet thing to do when they come over to your house. Not even your relatives ‘cause they’re far too busy bombarding you and Chan with questions about your personal lives rather than helping your parents out with washing the dishes after a meal is done. Minho might look cold and all but it’s all really just the typical demon facade that he’s trying to maintain. He’s actually really caring and thoughtful, you’ve found more sense of morality whenever you look into his eyes deeply than when you look at other people.

“Lee Minho is making breakfast for my family ? What’s this ? Is World War III coming ? Is the world hanging on the verge of ending ?”

He shakes his head at you in disapproval. “I just wanted to do something nice in return to last night’s dinner. Your parents really didn’t have to go all the way to the supermarket just because of me.” And he secretly enjoys seeing you munching happily on the food that he makes. How your cheeks are bunched up when you accidentally take too much of a bite, how your eyes light up in joy when you melt into the taste. He loves you for being you, for going all out without trying to act like a lady, eating quietly and shit.

You think for a bit. “They all have a big appetite, plus they’re not picky so anything will do. Just try to work with things in the fridge that you find promising ?”

“Oh okay.” Minho shrugs before leaning forward to press a kiss on your forehead. “Go back to sleep please, I beg. Jetlag is killing me, or else I’m gonna have to kiss you again and again until you get tired of me and doze off.”

With coral cheeks, you muster the calmest voice possible. “Is that a challenge ? Because if so, kiss me before I kick you off the couch.”

He smirks at you. “If you’re willing to.” As he leans in closer, you can feel your confidence level decreasing dramatically, your heart feels like it’s running on a treadmill endless. You’re no longer brave enough to keep eye contact so your eyes are screwed shut at some point, waiting for his lips to collide with yours.

Suddenly his phone buzzes obnoxiously on the coffee table, making you two pull away in a hassle. “Sorry, I gotta take this.” Minho says sheepishly as he sits straight up and grabs his phone. The apologetic smile on his face drops when he sees the caller’s ID. He swipes right to answer, placing the cool device close to his ear. “Yeah, Hyunjin ?”

“Hyung, you’re going too far. Come back.”

eight.

It’s been a few weeks later, and your family can’t stop gushing over how lucky you are to find a boyfriend like Minho.

You start getting daily voice messages from your parents, asking if you’re taking good care of yourself, if Minho’s treating you well, if anything’s been hard lately. Oh boy you sure regret running away before because your parents keep checking up on you every two hours. If not for Minho, they would have made you move back to Australia for who knows how long.

With that being said, Minho is obligated to move in with you. But you’re not complaining at all because cuddling with him is naturally carved into you like second nature. Even Jisung and Changbin didn’t bother to question why you start to have two mugs by the sink, two pairs of slippers by the shoe rack and a foreign smell of cologne all over your couch. They’ve probably figured it out that you got yourself ‘a man’ since the night that you came back to the apartment in such a rush.

And from then, you wonder why you’ve never considered having a roommate before. There are always really shitty excuses inside your head like : what if your roommate has some kind of questionable habits, what if they’re secretly a part of some mafia organization ? But really, it’s because he’s Lee Minho, because you’re too utterly soft for him. Nonetheless, you did learn a few things from spending more time with him rather than locking yourself up with work.

The feeling of having someone waiting for you to come home is beyond heartwarming. And you’ve also learnt to use your time and effort on someone else rather than just yourself. It actually feels really nice because his presence brings more than just a sense of comfort and happiness to you. There’s something about him that’s irreplaceable. As if he’s your soulmate, that one person who adores you to the moon and back, who’s willing to bring out the best in you and deal with you when you’re at your lowest.

But the whole concept of soulmate is still debatable because life isn’t just peaches and cream, it’s roses and thorns.

“Something’s bothering you, tell me.” You make the sharpest of a turn to the left to snap Minho back to reality. You don’t like when people keep ignoring your questions.

“Nothing’s bothering me.” He answers flatly. Obviously, he’s lying because he’s only spoken to you seven words maximum since you started the car. “Follow-the-GPS-to-reach-the-destination.” That’s it. No more. No less.

You scoff. “Something’s clearly bothering you. I don’t need your mind reading crap to know what you’re thinking.” You’re trying so hard not to take an argument out on him, especially when you’re driving to somewhere you don’t even know. But Minho’s not dumb, you bet he already had everything planned out on his mind. There’s a reason for everything, so you don’t have anything against driving in the middle of the night, just because he insisted you to.

He voices. “I’m thinking about surprising you.” And when you glance at him sideways, there are those specks of playfulness glistening in his midnight orbs again. But there’s also something else, and it’s unfathomable. “Trust me, you’ll love it.” He reassures you with a somewhat forced smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Fine.” You sigh in defeat, carefully pulling over not to hit the tree by the road.

Minho jumps out of the vehicle first. “We’re here.” You roll your eyes at him playfully and follows not long after.

And the sight in front of your eyes leaves you speechless. Even in the eerie darkness, your eyes can still make out the vibrant display of multicolored flowers all over the green field. The sweet scent soon fills your nostrils, making your eyes go wide in awe. “Come on, over here.” Minho links his hand into yours and drags you along the dirt road, trying his best not to step on any flower. Once he stops, you realize that you’re in the middle of the field, surrounded by the most surreal things that you thought could only happen in fairy tales.

The sky represents a black curtain being draped over your entire universe, with milky swirls and glitter specks dancing elegantly in various patterns. It’s transcendental, you think. How the sight have all of your worries and concerns disintegrate into dust, how you’re here with him as time seems to stop when he looks at you with nothing but pure devotion in his eyes. You’re hanging by this moment, waiting for him to say something. “Do you like it ?” He breathes out ever so softly.

You nod repeatedly. “I love it, thank you, thank you, thank you !” Mixed emotions burst inside your chest and you unconsciously fall into his embrace as if you were meant to be there all along. You bury your head into the crook of his neck, letting his more than familiar cologne hug you like a warm blanket.

Minho opens his mouth to say something but snaps it close later on. The bitterness inside is making him nauseous, burying every last bit of courage to the bottom pit of his stomach. He has so much, so much to tell you yet nothing comes out right.

He’s the first to pull away. “I’m glad that you like it, Y/N.” Take good care of yourself, okay ?

“Of course I like it, it’s everything !” You smile, not noticing how there are tears brimming in the corners of his eyes when it’s so dark outside.

Minho tries to hide the shakiness in his voice. “Close your eyes, the stars will grant a wish to whoever has enough sincerity and purity.” You’ll be fine without me, will you ?

“A wish ? I guess…” You close your eyes, tightening the grip on Minho’s hands, accidentally ignoring how his hands are getting colder, and colder by the second. “There, I made a wish !” Your eyes fly open as you giggle happily. “We should come here more often, don’t you think ? Promise me that we’ll be here every week.” You extend your pinky finger outwards.

Minho nods, intertwining his finger with yours. “I promise.” I’ll miss you.

As a silent tear rolls down on his cheek, his orbs flash a shade of crimson red.

eight & ½.

Changbin cries out dramatically. “Y/N, a little help over here ? Hello ?” He’s struggling real hard to open the door while carrying the groceries all by himself.

You quickly snap out of it, running to help him with the whopping five paper bags in his arms. “Sorry, I just thought that I saw someone who looked familiar.”

He cranes his neck tiredly after stuffing the bags into the backseats of his Tesla. “Could be some guy who reached out to you before. You know how the industry works, if they want you, they gotta have you. So be careful, creepy people are literally everywhere.”

“Right..” You trail off and jump into his car, shutting the door close. Even when Changbin twists his key and drives away from the supermarket, you can’t help but turn your head constantly to see if there’s anyone. On the way out, you made eye contact with someone, who has an odd ray of red in their eyes. Normally, things like this would have crept you out but you found an unexpected sense of familiarity in those eyes. Perhaps you’ve met before ?

But why… red ?

“Hey Bin…” You start. “Do you believe in soulmates ?”

Changbin snickers. “What the fuck is wrong with you today ? Are you sick ?”

You wave your hand to brush the topic off. “You’re right, I stayed up until three last night, can really use a nap right now.” Maybe everything’s in your head after all.

But little did you know, from across the streets, the silhouette of a demon who once shared unforgettable memories with you is embedded onto the cold brick wall. Minho has his arms crossed in front of his chest, mind blank, eyes empty. He only dares to watch in silence as your friend drives you away, fighting back the voices inside his head that are yelling at him to just hug you, to see your smile, to hear your laughter.

Little did you know, he longs to be by your side again. Minho tried to force himself into hating you but he can’t. He can’t because you taught him how to love, because you mean far more than just the universe to him, because blaming hurts more than trying to forget you. But before things get out of hand, he managed to get a hold of himself and decided to cut ties with you for good.

This is for the better, he keeps telling himself.

People say that there’s no sorrow in the demons. Since joy and sorrow are like fire and ice, there’s no possibilities for them to exist in the same subject. Demons are believed to find joy in those who despise God’s commands, and rejoice over this kind of sinister power. Therefore, there’s no sorrow in the demons. Meaning, demons can never feel heartbroken because they simply don’t have one.

If so, then why can Minho hear something shattering into pieces inside his chest ? That’s because he’s experienced something other demons aren’t supposed to. He finally knows what it feels like to actually be ‘someone’ to someone, what it feels like to think of them all day and smile stupidly about it.

And that’s something other demons are fortunate enough to not get themselves into. Because they wouldn’t want to know how painful it is to not being able to be with their loved one. Demons attract other demons by their scents so if a demon fell in love with a mortal being, that one human will live in constant danger.

Not to mention, it’s going against God to fall in love with someone who’s so different, so out of reach. And Minho could never risk losing you to anything but he can risk it all to protect you.

“I just feel so fucking broken.”

“You’ll be fine.” Hyunjin gently places a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

But it is love after all… what can he do ?

412 notes · View notes

cosmiclatte28 · 4 years

Text

Secret Love Song (ten x you)

here we go!

ps. Ten is a WayV and SuperM idol here, while Yuta, Jaehyun, and Johnny are not idols! Thanks

Song : Secret Love Song from little mix and Jason Durelo lol Derulo xD

warning : tiny bit of insecurities, lots of fluff, happy end.

CHITTAPON IS JUST SO SWEET!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You make your way slowly back to your small studio apartment. You rush from the nearest bus stop, walk through the cold winter night, reach the front door and then take the lift to your room. Today has been tiring, your neck and lower back are aching from sitting on stools for hours and reaching your clients body as you inject safe permanent inks into their skin. Yes, you are a tattoo artist, working in a superior tattoo parlor, where hygiene levels are guaranteed safe and the drawings are not regrettable. Well, your clients paid a hundreds of dollars to have a 4 inch tattoo! You have to admit, being a tattoo artist in a high-class studio gave a fair amount to pay your rents, eat decent foods, and spend some money for your happiness. You sigh when you remember that the flat fee for this month has been raised, and you know you will need to either find a new living space or work extra hours to pay for the extra cost.

You stretch your neck for a while as your fingers type in a six digit combination to open the door to your heaven: the bed. Once you close the door behind you, you take off your coat, carelessly toss your bag to the sofa, and free yourself from your boots. You make a quick attempt to untangle your scarf and dive belly first to your soft mattress. A sigh of great relieve escapes your mouth and you find your eyelids super heavy. You would totally fall asleep within five seconds if your bizarre phone did not disturb you.

Your hand blindly searches for the rectangular noisy object and when you find it, the ring has ended. You groan in frustration, but your fatigue drowns you back to slumber. This time there was a short beep five times in a row, and you know that is your boyfriend messaging you. Your mind fights over waking up to call him back, or just drive your tired eyes to sleep and deal with him later when you're fresh. You decided to do the latter, but today must not be your day. Your phone rings again and your finger slides to pick up his call.

"What?!" You snapped.

"Woah, easy... Did I call the wrong number?" the man on the other hand takes his phone away from his ear to check the caller ID. He shakes his head when he ensures this is the right number.

"Sorry... I-"you yawn and he stays silence until you continue, "I just got home, and your calls postpone my -so needed- sleep..."

He smiles to himself when he heard your yawns and slurs.

"Okay, I'll just tell you I'm busy for the next three days. I'll call you back, I need to do my make up now. Bye!"

You did not reply him, your brain didn't actually understand anything he said, you've lost yourself into the dreamland after finishing your sentence. You sleep through your dinner time, only to snore deeper as the night darkens.

One man sits stiffly on his chair in the powder room. He is waiting for his stylist to come and do his make up before he steps into the stage filled with a crowd dedicating their life, money, and time to support him and his group. He shakes his shoulder a bit to throw the pressure away, why did he feel like he committed a great sin for calling his girl just to disturb her from sleeping.

"Who is that Ten hyung?" Yang-yang who happens to catch a few of Ten's surprised action earlier asked.

Ten turns his head to face the youngest boy, he's about to open his mouth before the tallest and loudest man cuts his answer "It's (y/n) of course," Lucas offers his big smile while slapping Ten's shoulder.

"Stop it Lucas, I might poke his eye because of your sudden slap when I am drawing this eyeliner." The stylist who has been working hard to polish this pretty eyes of Ten, scowls at Lucas.

"Sorry, but it's true right?? It's (Y/n)???" Lucas takes a seat on one of the free chairs in the powder room. He's ready to go on stage already.

Ten shakes his head in disbelief and nods, "Yes it's her. Happy?"

Yang-yang smiles and drags his chair closer, "So... what happened? Spill the tea!"

Lucas also has his eyes bigger twice as much in size and his back is straightened, he is ready for the gossip!

Ten smacks his lips when the last stroke of light lipstick was applied; he checks himself on the mirror and nods an approval for the stylist to go. "Thank you!"

Now when nobody else is in the room, Ten finally opens his mouth.

"I called her at the wrong time I think... She snapped at me because she said I disturb her sleep?"

The two younger men pretend to understand though really they don't have a single idea why Ten must look this nervous just because his girlfriend snapped. Hey, every person has a bad day right?

Ten stares into the two soul across him and he face palms himself mentally when he realize there was no way Lucas nor Yang-yang understands his worry.

"Forget it, both of you are not helping." Ten pushes himself from the chair to put on his golden jacket.

"We're putting on mikes and in 7 minutes, you're going Live." The stage director opens the door right in time and a swarm of crew help the members put on their mikes.

Ten glances at his phone for the last time, there his smile rises when one notification pops from none other than you.

From: mon petit cœur

"Burn the stage,love! Bad Alive deserves the spotlight. <3"

Ten knows he doesn't have to reply that message, but the heavy weight in his heart is gone as he takes a deep breath and joins his other brothers to the side of the stage. They chant their group cheers and soon take over the stage.

You're awakened by your alarm clock around seven at night. Your head feels dizzy and you know that's probably because you skipped dinner. You force yourself to open your eyes. Your fingers expertly open the messenger application and through your squinting eyes, you type a short message to your boyfriend. Well, you promised him you won't miss their first stage of Bad Alive, and so here you are! seated on your worn-off sofa, an apple on one hand and the small TV provides you music and pictures. You focus yourself on the screen when you can see your boy and his team already shown for the interview at the screen. You fix your position, increase the volume, and you're totally awake when the stage shows your favorite group of all time.

The three minutes performance was over. You get up from your position, walk to throw the apple core away, and you grab your phone back.

To : Ten

"Amazing job you did there, my body's burning,

Guess I can save money from not using any more heaters.

Going home? <3"

You want to meet Ten so bad, it's already one month since you two didn't see each other. He has intensive practices for the comeback. Not that you're not understanding or selfish; You just wish he can make some time to come tonight, because you need someone to listen to you.

Your phone bleeped after an hour. Ten must've finished all of his works and probably already seated in the van, ready to leave the venue.

From: Ten

"Glad the song kept you warm. Sadly I've told you earlier in the call I cannot make it home these three days. Next week I also have another stage performance. I'll let you know when we can meet. How's today?"

Your shoulder slumped, you ghost you finger over the call button. You want to call him right now, but dating an idol is not that simple. If some manager or stylist caught you in the act, they might tell this to the director board and you know how this will end. Yes forced break up!

You left him on read. You glance at the clock on the dining room. It's already nine, you have some place to go. You dress yourself in a warm jacket and you leave the empty room. You hail a cab and direct an address. Your phone vibrated and you picked up a call.

"Hey! Where are you now?" Ten asks

"I'm going out for a while, why?"

"Oh, where are you headed to?"

"Ummm Johnny's, I forgot he invited me over for wine and cheese. Wanna join?"

"Is this Saturday Night already?"

You chuckled, "Yes Mr. busy, this is a Saturday Night."

"I'll see how the meeting with SuperM goes, til then have fun and be safe, Love you!"

"He's a nice brother, don't worry I'll be okay. Wait I have to get off the bus."

Ten waited for you on the other side of the line. He likes to make sure you're okay on the road. He busies himself with a strand of loose thread on his jacket and holds the phone close to his ear. His smile returns when your breathy voice greets him back.

"Woah, sorry there were several people going down too.

I'm only 3 minutes away! Are you in the office yet?"

"I'm entering the lobby, need to rush to the lift and see if everyone's there already."

"Okay, guess I'll end the call here. I can see his house already."

"No, I'll wait until you are in his house. Besides my notification just notifies me Taemin hyung is late."

"Well, I'm here already. Johnny's by my side."

"Alright, trust you. Tell him I miss him! Okay then, enjoy your night.

Call me whenever you need my help. Love you!"

You smile at his small attention, "Thanks Ten, Love you too! Good luck with the meeting."

The phone call ended

You enter the kitchen of the small house your brother and his fiancée bought. Johnny is five years older than you, and that's why he has been able to take care of you ever since the two of you were young. Johnny's wife happened to be staying in her mother's house because she had to look after her younger cousins. Johnny cannot join her because he needs to supervise his office. So here you are, the two of you meet one another for a siblings quality time.

"Tonight's special is Cabernet Franc," Johnny said after examining the bottle and taking the cork off.

I push him my empty glass and he fills in both glasses with the red liquid.

"Cheers," You both chime and clank the glass.

Moving on to sit on the comfortable L-sofa, you make yourself comfortable before finally starting to chat and talk about life. A soft music was played on the background, some classics because both of you felt like it.

"So, how is your day?" asked Johnny.

You gulp down the rest of the wine and roll your eyes, "Bad. Worst!"

Johnny straightens his back, "Ten? Or Work?"

You run your eyes right and left, taking a moment to think which one of them is bothering your mind. You smile when you know the answer, "Both!"

Johnny only raises his brow and you know the queue to spill everything out. Your mind went back to earlier this morning, where you woke up late and missed the bus to your office. You had to take the cab, since Ten was busy with his performance schedule today. You had to spend a good $20 to make it on time. You did arrive on schedule; the shop was opening as per usual. You greeted your co-workers, Yuta and Jaehyun.

The three of you have been working together since this parlor opened, there were no other worker here because we don't need that much! The people who step through the door were usually a regular or have made an appointment. However, today was totally irregular!

You remember the horror of Jaehyun's face when he entered the employee room with terror. Yuta was working on a customer's drawing and you were washing and cleaning the pen.

"We sorta have a problem here, there were three girls wanting to get a tattoo done without any appointments."

Yuta raised his brow, there must be something next that will surprise them both.

"They're minors. I've told them to come back when they're older, but they insisted."

"Let me talk," You place your pen down on a table and take the queue to talk to the girls. Well, Jaehyun is a softie, he cannot be strict especially to high-school girls.

You caught the three girls giggling over a picture on their phone, and you quickly snatched it away from her hand. They gasped and protested on your action, but you were taller than them.

"Sorry, but it was not appropriate for you to secretly take pictures of another person. This, I'm sure you took them secretly earlier. You're violating someone's privacy." You said as you deleted the pictures of a candid Jaehyun.

"If you're here only to take inappropriate pictures of my co-worker, leave immediately and don't ever come back. And you're clearly not 18 yet, the law stated you must be 18 to have a tattoo. Til then, let's wait patiently. Come back only when you are 18 and permitted to have ink on your body. Good bye." You returned the phone and shrugged your shoulder to the exit door.

The three girls have fires in their eyes and they were clearly killing you in their heads, but you're not afraid of babies like them.

"You're mean! Just wait for our revenge!" One of the girl stomped her feet in anger and ordered the other two to follow her and they left the parlor.

You let go a breath you held back earlier, then you decided to take the welcome desk for a while.

Just when you thought nothing else will go wrong, that's where you were fucked. Across you stood your nightmare. The enormous man across you smiled secretly when he found you greeting him.

"Well, welcome back Sir Dimitry, I believe you're here for a touch up?" You ran your eyes through today's schedule. Sadly his name was not there, but he was a regular and he's the Russian gang leader here, who roamed around Incheon at night. You knew better not to mess up with him, but that was not what bothers you.

He Is big and scary, the first time you saw him was when Yuta has to do a big dragon on his well built arm. That day you were occupied with another client, but although you were focused on doing your work, you can't help but feel his gaze on your body. Yuta and Jaehyun were aware of this, and since then they always try their best to take his project and they always lied you're busy or occupied. You're thankful for them. The two men were not so pleased to work on his skin too, for his drawings were always big, disturbing, and scary. However, he was the most generous tipper, and that made them close their mouth and ears (because he used to answer calls and believe me your ears won't stay cold listening to his choices of bad words).

"I haven't made an appointment yet, and I came here for a new drawing. I've had one in my mind and I believe you can finish tracing it in a couple of minute." The big guy leaned forward on the table.

There were two other people coming in and Yuta happened to pass by. You threw him a "help" sign and Yuta bit his lips, "My client is here already... I'm sorry, try Jaehyun."

Yuta took his customer to the studio and Jaehyun appeared beside you.

Jaehyun glanced at the clock, then looked into the Russian man's blue eyes "I'm sorry sir, but today we're a bit tight. You can come back here tomorrow say around one? I'll take your order, do you want a new drawing or retouch?"

The man hit the table, "I believe this lady over here is free right now, I don't see any client waiting for her. That guy is clearly your job Jae, I saw his tattoos those were definitely yours."He smiled winningly.

You cursed in your heart, well today you happened to have no appointments, you're only making templates. You closed your eyes, inhaled, and looked at Jaehyun. You nodded your head to tell him you'll be okay and you'll take him. Jae could lost his eyes from the shock when you sighed and told the big man, "Alright, I am free for two hours. Before that let me remind you I cannot do strong and big inks."

The Russian man smirked like a cat who won a fish, you took him to the processing room and he explained you what he want. You went to your professional mode and focused clearly on making his dream comes true. You were bargaining with him to make the designs smaller and less bold, he finally gave in. You worked your drawing quickly and after he agreed, you prepared your tools.

To make it short, it was the longest two hours in your life. He was clearly stealing views of you concentrating, and he was throwing so many offensive and disturbing flirts. You almost lost your cool when he joked about how hot you would look like on bed. You promised you held yourself from not forcing the word "bastard" to his neck and you clearly knew Yuta and Jaehyun were both busy keeping eyes on you. You're focused on making a word out of Russian alphabet you didn't know.

"I am attached, so please stop. You're going over the line already." You exhaled when he tried to touch your lap. You quickly pushed his hand away and you rushed your work.

"I said stop! You're harassing me!" You tossed the pen to your metal tray, and you pushed your chair back. He was not totally harassing you physically, but he was mentally fucking you. You saw his tent and you decided you'll stop your work. Well you finished it right on time though.

"I can file a report and you can be trialed." You stood up from your stool, but he held you back faster.

"Let go off her," Yuta threw him a deadly gaze and swatted the man's hand.

"You won't, they wouldn't care. Look this tattoo's amazing. I'm leaving you 500! Take the change." He forced the bills in my hand and made his way out.

You stood there surprised and petrified. You're ashamed of yourself, but what would your boss say if he found out a client was not satisfied because the girl artist did not want to work on his body. You'll lose your favorite job, and no you don't want that to happen yet.

Yuta and Jaehyun comforted you and ensured that you were not assaulted physically or even harmed. You shook your head and a tear fell on your cheeks. "I am embarrassed of myself, I feel bad for Ten... and Fuck I blew up my relationship."

Yuta ensured nobody will know, or you hope so. The day continued and after some more picky madams with boring gossips, you went home with....well an extra $300. You actually hated the money, but 300 is a big number, you can either put it on donation or pay your rent. You decided to put it in the cashier box though, let your boss decide. Usually a 100 bucks is already a big tip, this is triple! But thinking back of his actions, you hate everything.

"You sure you're okay?" Johnny reaches for your hand and takes a good look on your body.

You giggle, "It's fine, he almost reached for my lap but I was faster! But his mind, I can't control that..."

Johnny nods, "Just avoid him okay, or tell your boss you cannot take him. Moving on, tell me about Ten!"

"About Ten, I just hope dating an idol can be more public." You swirl your wine that had been refilled.

Your mind one again brought you into a daze, you remembered two years ago when Ten knew you from his tattoo appointment. You were responsible for his temporary tattoo for a comeback. He knew you from Taeyong, fellow SuperM member who made the 'UNDER STAND' tattoo with your help. Ten likes the result and he asked Taeyong where he got it done.

To make it short, you frequently see one another from discussion, drawing, and planning. Ten and you learned about one another quickly while he was on his ink bed, and you're focused on drawing his perfect sketch on his arm. The meeting became frequent after three months where he needed another tattoo for a comeback.

After returning about ten times to have a retouch or a new design, Ten finally earned your number. From there, everything was so fast and you're suddenly on your third year of dating an international famous idol! You thought you were ready for everything, not going public, staying home most of the time for dates, wearing masks and keep being undercover, even having sleepless nights while waiting for his message when he's away on a world tour. You can go on with the list, but you decided to focus on the good things more.

You were okay with Ten being away from his phone most of the time. He always did his best to send you an update about him, be it one emoji, a selfie, or a whole long ass paragraph of how his day went. He couldn't call you that much because someone might eavesdrop.

So far, no one thought Ten is having a secret love relationship. There were small fights, but both of you can talk it out together with cool heads and bonded stronger after the fight. Ten could see you and him being a family in the future, he even boldly told you his parents can't wait to meet you.

You were okay with all of the relationship, you were okay with his fans, you supported him on concerts and voting, you basically love him too with all your heart. Only one thing actually made you sad.

"What is that one thing? Not posting it in social media?" your brother teases you.

You lean on the soft cushions; your finger carelessly fiddles with the tassels hanging around the blanket Johnny had wrapped around you. You toss your look to his curious face.

"I want to walk under the cold winter air beneath the romantic lights, hand in hand, warmth shared from I don't know his heat pack in his pocket maybe... Then imagine the Christmas Carols are softly whispering in the night, mistletoe is everywhere. It doesn't have to wait until Christmas... I just want it whenever we can." You plop a cheese into your mouth. Your eyes were glassy when they look into Johnny's

Johnny pulls you closer and you instinctively lean in and let him caresses your back.

"You're tipsy, can you still walk?"

You shot your eyes open, the hell did your brother just kicked you out? Hey it's night already! Shouldn't he let you sleep in??

"I am not going home! It's dangerous! What kind of brother are you? Telling your little sister to go home at this time." You hit him repeatedly.

Johnny rolls his eyes, you clearly had too much!

"WALK TO THE BED SIS, WALK TO MY ROOM AND SLEEP PROPERLY." Johnny stresses each of the word in case my ears did not caught them.

You look at him blankly and Johnny knew you're gone already. He swiftly picks you up and carries you to the bed. Nicely he tucks you in and he cleans up the mess in the living room.

He notices his phone vibrating; noticing it was Ten, he picks up the call.

"She's sleeping in tonight, you're on the dorm right?" Johnny asks.

Ten answers him his schedule for the week and how he's not going home. He also told Johnny what happened earlier this afternoon. Johnny smirks as he whispers a code to Ten.

Two weeks passed by, you already forgot your grudges to Ten. You try to be considerate to his hectic schedules. One cold afternoon, just after you finished working on your last client for today, you take your time cleaning the tools and sterilizing them. While humming to Love Talk, your favorite song, Jaehyun peeks from the curtain door.

"(Y/n), someone's looking for you." Jaehyun drags the curtain open. You pause your activity, for a moment; your eye brows quirked. You focus your mind to see if you missed an appointment, but no you're positive no one called you for a session this afternoon.

"Hmm, we still have time before closing time, so okay I'll take it."

You leave the room to see your client and you're surprised to see your boyfriend sitting on the waiting room.

"Ten!" You squeal out of surprise and joy. You run to hug him, well it has been three weeks since you last saw him in tangible state. Three weeks of video-calls and texts were quite satisfying, nevertheless.

Your boyfriend hugs you back and engulfs your smaller figure. He inhales the sweet scent of your shampoo he missed and how he wished the time can stop here right now.

"You're here for a new tat?" You ask after breaking the hug.

Ten shakes his head, "No, I got dismissed earlier and I want to pick you up!"

You blushed, hey that's so sweet of him. Unlike other boyfriends, having Ten walking in the sidewalk without his manager and body guards is a rare occurrence. Ten was always in the van or swarmed by fans! This afternoon however, here he is standing with a long winter coat, face hidden under a cap and a mask. He did not wear anything eye catching to avoid the media and saesangs. He did it! He made it here in your office without any missing piece or a trending twitter hashtag!

"Well we have another 20 minutes before my shift ends; do you need any help for a tattoo?" You smile at him. Hey planning a tattoo with Ten is always wonderful.

"You know we can always draw them together at home." He smirks and brushes my hair away from my face.

"Okay then, wait for a moment as we're tidying up." A big smile erupts from your lips and your heart is full of flowers!

"Good bye Jae, Yuta!" You wave your hand as the two men let you leave first while they close the doors.

Ten is already waiting for you on the front porch with his hidden face. You place your mask over your face too. You stick yourself next to Ten to hug his arm, his heart softens at the sight, how a soft girl like you can work as a tattoo artist with Yuta and Jaehyun (who both have enormous prints on their bodies).

Without any warning, Ten takes one of your hand into his, he holds yours tightly and slips them to his jacket pocket."It's a bit cold right? Now where should we go?"

Your eyes widen, usually he always brings you home directly since he cannot be in public for too long.

"Shall we just go home? I can cook dinner." You sound confused by his offer tonight.

Ten shakes his head, and drags you without any clue where are we headed.

You are so stunned when you find yourself finishing a nice dinner course at a new restaurant. Luckily it was not crowded yet and no one seems to notice Ten, but dinner was not the end of the surprise.

You stand frozen under the dazzling disco ball, beneath your feet are colorful light up tiles, surrounding you are the moving body of half-conscious people, and your ears are slowly aching from the loud music.

"Ten, can we go somewhere quiet, I can't talk." You lean in closer to scream into his ear and your boyfriend pulls you out of the crowded space.He brings you to the bar and helps you sit on one of the stool.

"One bourbon for me, and a vodka for this pretty lady." Ten smiles to the bartender.

After he takes his sit next to you, you raise your brow. He knows that code and he quickly reaches for your hands.

"You don't like dancing in the club? It's a Sunday Night, I thought some drinks won't hurt right?" Ten knows you're not new to these kinds of places.

You let out a free laugh, "I do love dancing in the club, I'm just surprised why you're suddenly doing this. Plus if you told me, I could have prepared for better attire!" You hit him playfully.

Ten takes your hand into his, "Well, you look great already, plus we must not catch attention right." He leans in closer to you.

Your eyes slowly move down over his nose and finally on his lips. Maybe it was the way they glistened under the dim light, or the tenderness you miss, or just simply his lip bites he always did when he's nervous! You feel gravity pulling you closer just to taste a tiny bit of it, but Ten moves back quickly when the bartender returns with two glasses of our drinks.

"Thank you!" Ten hands over the cash and offers you your glass. You found yourself stupid for almost kissing him in public. Rule number one of dating an idol is to never kiss on public.

"Sorry," You look everywhere but his eyes and gulp down your shot.

Ten just nods beside you and there was a bit of a tension between you and him. Maybe you're still embarrassed of your action, but Ten is actually enjoying your braver side.

"Let's hit the floor. I really miss dancing together." Ten easily picks you out of your stool and lands you gently on the floor. One shot of vodka won't make you drunk yet, but you spent your youth dancing on the dance floor, so this is nothing for you.

The DJ was wonderful tonight; his choices of songs are perfect and as the two of you are getting more and more heated up under the throbbing lights. The dance floor was crowded and there was not much space left. You share his body heat, you can feel his breath tickles your neck, and you can once again see his plump cherries. You drive your mind elsewhere, and move your body to the rhythm. You smile at him and he smiles back at you, with one deep glance the two of you inches closer and closer.

Your eyes grew heavy, vision dark, you let your other senses work, and you feel that warm plump lips touching yours. You caught your breath and after some time, he pulls back. The loud sound blasting through the speaker slowly disturbs your hearing again. You open your eyes slowly and stare into his deep eyes. He places his hands over your waist, pulls you into his arms, and the two of you sway to the loud slow music the DJ offers.

You're no longer thinking straight. You bury your face into his chest, you trust yourself into his lead and a single tear fell down.

When you hold me in the street

And you kiss me on the dance floor

I wish that we could be like that

Why can't we be like that, Cause I'm yours.

You know this is everything you need to face when dating an idol, and you cannot hate him for this. It was your decision to say yes to him. Your head spins, your ears deafened, your vision darkens, and you no longer feel your feet.

You lost your conscious; all of a sudden you're already lying down on your bed. Turning your head to the side, you see Ten sleeping by your side hugging you loosely while taking in calm and relaxed breath. You grit your teeth as you try your best to softly turn your body to face him.

In his warm embrace you snake your hand to ghost over his godly face to brush away the golden locks away from his eyes. You stare at his innocent face, you're overwhelmed. It's been a while since the last time you has Ten by your side when you sleep. He was always busy and thousands of miles away from you in a different time zone. You touch his cheeks and wipe a tear running down from your eye.

We keep behind closed doors

Every time I see you, I die a little more

Stolen moments that we steal as the curtain falls

It'll never be enough

Just the sound of his relaxed breathing and the slight touch of his arms over your waist, you finally found the missing warmth and peace you've always craved for bedtime. Having Ten lying next to you tonight sparked a small fire in your chest. You feel safe and you're so emotional. You snuggle closer to him, Ten stirs in his sleep but did not wake up, instead he naturally finds your body and fixes his posture to a comfortable position. You face his chest, right where you can see the tattoo you nicely did on his left chest (where he worked so hard to get his mom's permission) you smile when you remember how happy he was when he sneaked out to meet you to deliver the happy news.

Your heart flutters, he did not need to wake up to fit you into his embrace. Your relationship fits like a puzzle where each pieces were so different that you won't make mistakes. You want to believe that Ten is the one destined for you and so are you to him!

It's obvious you're meant for me

Every piece of you just fits so perfectly on me

Your mind plays thousands of silly scenarios. Most of them were happy, but you cannot lie that the darkest corner in your brain still repeatedly tricks you with nightmares. It was not the first time you have dreams about his fans finding out your relationship, you cannot imagine their faces and you cannot imagine living with the constant fear that one of those fans might kill you out of obsession!

Your insecurities also snatch your confidence away whenever you see Ten standing on a stage with another "oh so perfect" girl idols or models or hell actresses! Not to mention the flirty look those back up dancers always toss to your man. Well, they might be throwing flirts on him because they did not know Ten is attached already; however, even when they know 90% will fight harder and the rest 10% will let go. You're living in fear, in terror that one day when you wake up Ten can no longer be beside you.

You break your own promise about always telling one another your fears and struggles. You hide them behind your cheerful smile, you blame yourself for over thinking, and you make sure Ten will never know that. You are learning every day to put the negative thoughts away and focus on the good ones. Ten needs your support, Ten loves you, and you believe that. You can sleep a bit after convincing your heart that the man hugging you here is an angel made for you!

Every second, every thought, I'm in so deep

But I'll never show it on my face

Your eyes flung open when you feel the sudden drop of temperature. Your hand reaches to your side in panic and you peek to see that it's no longer occupied. You stretch yourself to wake up, Ten might be away already for his schedule. You take your phone to see any message he probably left, but there were none. You glance to the door, it was closed. There are no traces of Ten, not his shirt, not even his phone.

Once the room door was opened, your nose is filled with a fresh smell of bacon and eggs. Your smile returns when you see Ten only in his boxer and apron. You can hear your washing machine working and when you look at the door, you smile when you see a pile of your laundry and his outfits are there.

"Morning princess, I'm sorry I have to run the laundry for my clothes...since someone happened to spill a drink over me yesterday and I'm not going back to the dorm with a smelly outfit." Ten explains while flipping an egg over. He sets the fire to a lower heat and turns his body to see you.

You can only smile like a dumb love-struck girl (which is not wrong). You make your way to jump and hug him. Ten automatically receives you in his arms and you dip your head down to greet your lover with a sweet morning kiss. In between the sweet kiss, you can see Ten smiling like he enjoys these kinds of cheesy morning things.

"You better stop kissing me," Ten speaks up on our short breaks, he kisses you one more time, "Or I will burn the eggs."

You laugh and toss your head back, you take your queue to jump off him and Ten quickly saves his egg from burning. "Just right in time," He smirks when he plates the last egg on the dish.

"Please take your seat miss, breakfast by your hottest man is ready." He sits down across you with one plate of the same menu. From your request, Ten did not take off his apron. No you do not need a distraction this early!

Your mind records every single moment Ten giggles and laughs, his wake up state is already so lovely and you cannot imagine how perfect your mornings will be if the two of you finally tie the knot and live together. You can only keep that in your small heart, a really simple dream you wish you can achieve. Living with Ten for the rest of your life, why? Because you know he is the man made for you. But are you the woman made for him?

You finish your breakfast and as the washing machine finished its job in drying the clothes too, you hear his phone rings. Ten glances at the buzzing noise. You toss him a small smile before leaning in to kiss him and walking away to take the laundries. You pick up his shirt, Ten does his duty to wash the dishes and pan he used.

"Let me iron this quickly," You disappear to at least send him off to work in a nice attire.

Ten places the last dish on the drying rack and he starts to pack all of his stuffs, he brushes his hair and teeth, puts his cap back on and his eyes soften when he sees you coming back with a neat shirt.

He finally takes off his apron and with your help, put on his tidy sweet smelled shirt. Secretly Ten loves your laundry soap and that's one reason why he used your washing machine. He wants to smell like you!

"So, when can I see you again?" You ask as you fix his collar. You're facing him and only inches away from his nose.

Ten smiles and puts his hands over your waist, he leans in to stare deeper into your eyes, "Whenever you want miss! I'm only one call away," he winks.

Both of your face are slowly erasing the gap between you two and just as you close your eyes his phone abruptly kills the mood. You pull your face back and you can see Ten cussing at the caller.

"Damn Lucas! Such a mood breaker! I told him I am coming in 10 minutes," Ten presses the red button and pockets his phone. You burst out laughing, of course it must be Lucas!

"Well, guess you will want to go before Kun calls you! Thanks for yesterday and today and everything!" You hug him and bury your face on his chest. "I wish you can come often and do my dishes!" You taunt your tongue.

Ten ruffles your hair and kisses your forehead for the last time, "Okay, I need to go now. You also need to prepare yourself for work."

You nod and note the time, it's an hour to the store opening hours, you need to get ready.

"Bye love, take care! I love you." Ten walks to the exit after putting on his coat and shoes.

"Love you more!" You stand by his side facing by the exit door.

"Love you most," he winks and finally pulls his cap to cover his face and puts his mask on. He finally turns around and walks to the lift.

You return to your room, taking a bath and getting ready for another long week. You believe if you can get through this, your dream of living with Ten will be clearer and brighter.

Your day goes on and you cannot lie whenever you see him on social media, a website, a magazine, or a music show, even from the talks from your customers, you cannot throw the disturbing insecurities away from your mind.

Is our love hopeless?

Will the world accepts me as his significant other?

Will his family love me?

Will he even stay by my side, or will he found someone new who is better than me?

Those are the things you cannot spill to him that haunt you every time he is away.

You play with the promise ring Ten gave you on your two years anniversary. The dark minds foreshadowing your mind suddenly disappear just as you remember the same words Ten always recites, "You're the puzzle that fits into me, why would I let you go? Trust me and wait for me, I love you more than anything!"

With that, your smile erupts back into your face and the rainbow in your heart plus mind is back. You know you just have to trust Ten the same way he trusts you! Life will bring you two together if it is meant to be, and fate will also play a part.

Because Trust is everything you need for an everlasting love story right?

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dramaticlester · 4 years

Text

Arachnophobe

Summary:

arachnophobe

/əˈraknəfəʊb/

noun 1. a person with an extreme or irrational fear of spiders.

One day, whilst babysitting his two children, Emily, 7, and Colby, 2, Dan encounters something that could ruin his day. Worst of all, he promised Phil he was going to be responsible this time.

Warnings: spiders(brief mention, not a lot of detail)

Hi! I hope you're all well. I was watching Dan's VR video in the spider cave and was inspired to write this word jumble. I hope you enjoy it, and are staying safe!

"Are you 100% positive you'll be okay alone with them?" Phil asked for the 20th time.

Dan rolled his eyes, sighing in annoyance, "I'm not a child, Phil. I'm certain I know how to babysit our children."

"Last time you were left alone with just Emily, you ended up crying," Phil reminded him, getting his coat down from the hook. Dan had Colby balanced on his hip as he walked Phil towards the door.

"She was a baby then and I didn't know what I was doing! I've learned now," Dan said.

"Alright, I'll trust you," Phil hesitated, leaning in to kiss Dan's cheek. He kissed Colby's head and accepted Emily's big hug. "Be good for dad, I'll be home soon!"

Emily giggled once the door closed and ran into the living room to play with her toys. Dan sighed and followed her.

"You cried when you babysat me, dad?" Emily asked curiously, carrying on with her drawing of a lemon.

"You were a very annoying baby," Dan moaned, furrowing his eyebrows.

Emily gasped, "Annoying? You can't say that, dad!"

"Sorry sweetheart, you're perfect now!" Dan reassured, cringing at himself. Don't fuck this up, Dan. Emily shrugged, accepting his explanation, but stayed silent. Dan placed Colby on the floor to join Emily. He turned the TV on to some kid program and set to reply to his emails. Since he and Phil had adopted the kids, they hadn't had much time for work. They filmed the occasional video, Phil more-so than Dan. Just enough to pay the bills. They hadn't told the fans about the kids yet, they weren't quite sure when it would be appropriate to. However, Dan came across an email from their merch company, suggesting that they let Emily and Colby wear the clothes and 'model' them. It sounded interesting, but Dan wasn't prepared to decide without Phil. He archived the message, and carried on scrolling.

At around noon, Emily and Colby became restless and hungry.

"Daddy, can we have some food?" Emily asked.

"Sure, what do you want?" Dan asked, picking Colby up and going into the kitchen.

Emily sat at the breakfast bar as she thought about it. Dan raised an eyebrow at her as he placed Colby into his high chair.

"Pa usually makes us dinosaur nuggets," she decided. Shit.

Now, to some, it was easy to make dinosaur nuggets. Easy wasn't really in Dan's vocabulary though. This is why Phil made the dinner usually. Dan nodded and opened the freezer to get them out.

"How do you make them?" He said, dumbly.

"I'm 7," Emily said, her large brown eyes felt teasing.

"And I'm 28," Dan grumbled. He couldn't text Phil and ask how to make fucking dinosaur nuggets. "Surely you've watched Pa do it before, right?"

"He just puts them in the oven," Emily giggled.

Dan groaned and read the back of the packet. He was so stupid. You literally just put them on a tray and bake them in the oven, he thought to himself. He put the nuggets into the oven and put some beans in the microwave. Dan brought Emily's colours and some paper into the kitchen to occupy her and Colby whilst they waited.

Dan was helping her colour in a flower when he felt his phone buzz.

phil (to Dan)

Is everything okay?

Dan (to phil)

yes. wheres the trust?

Dan put his phone down and carried on colouring, only stopping to help Colby draw a car.

The buzzer went off on the oven, and Dan stood up to get the kid's food out. He was rather proud of himself for baking the death dinos.

"Well done, dad!" Emily grinned.

Dan blushed when he realised she'd noticed how happy he was with himself. He plated the dinner up with the beans and gave Emily her plate, then sat down to feed Colby.

Dinner went smoothly, Emily even complimented his cooking, "It's almost as good as Pa's."

...He would take it. He also managed to give Colby his without half of it spilling down his clothes, which was a plus. Once they'd finished, he put their plates into the dishwasher and let Colby out of his chair.

"Can you watch Colby whilst I just eat my sandwich, love?" He said to Emily. Emily nodded, taking Colby's hand and leading him to the living room. Dan was glad that no massive incidents had happened yet. The calm before the storm, you might say.

"Dad!" Emily called. Dan felt like something was wrong. The worst-case scenarios flashed through his mind. He rose from his seat quickly and got into the living room. If the worst-case scenario was one of the children being hurt, then this was a death scenario. Because there, in the middle of the room, was a spider.

Dan screamed, pulling Emily and Colby away and into the living room.

"Dad! It's just a spider," Emily said, making a move to go back into the living room.

"Do not go in there!" Dan squealed, pacing back and forth as he thought of what to do in this situation. He felt sick as he thought about the spindly legs, almost heaving.

"Are you okay?" Emily asked as Dan sat down. She crawled up onto his knee and threw her arms around his neck. Dan let his daughter comfort him, circling his arms around her waist and pulling her in closer.

"I'm scared of spiders," Dan said to her once she pulled away. Her eyes were wide in panic.

"Why don't you ask grandma?" Emily said quickly, taking his phone off the table. Dan went to stop her, but noticed his phone was still unlocked from when he'd been scrolling through his twitter and she'd managed to locate the number of Phil's mum. Now he felt stupid. Also, who had taught her to use a phone?

"Emily, don't dist-"

"Hi, grandma!" Emily chirped down the phone, grinning. She pressed the speaker button as Kath replied.

"Hi, sweetie. Are you okay? Where's your dad?" Kath questioned.

"I'm here, Mrs. Lester. Hi," Dan sighed. "Sorry about that, I couldn't stop her."

"Oh give over! I'm just glad you're alive and she didn't ring me instead of 999," Kath joked. "Plus, you don't ring me anymore. I was ready to give you some advice on Philip!"

Dan groaned at Kath's joke, putting his head in his hands. He used to ring Kath to learn how to deal with Phil's annoying quirks. He'd figured it out with a bit of guidance, and no longer had to ask.

"Gram!" Colby slurred. He couldn't speak the best yet, so he always referred to her as 'gram'.

"Grandma, there's a spider in the living room, and dad's scared!" Emily explained.

"Oh no!" Kath exclaimed. "You okay, love? I remember when I had to come and rescue you with a cup and some paper because you wouldn't let Phil go."

If Dan wasn't already red, he was now. He felt his skin burn. He'd had a panic attack when Phil had a spider in his room when he was younger and Kath had had to come and get it with a cup.

"I'm fine, thanks. I'm making us camp out in the kitchen until Phil gets home which is in-" Dan checked his watch. "Three hours."

"You can't sit in the kitchen for three hours!" Kath said. "If only I was downstairs."

"Hey, it's fine! Emily had stuff in the kitchen to play with, and her room," Dan said. "Again, sorry for bothering you."

"You can call me whenever you want, darling! Goodbye, my loves," Kath said cheerfully.

"Bye," Emily said, giving Dan his phone back and smiling cheekily. Dan smiled back; he couldn't be mad at her for being so thoughtful.

"Okay, dad. I'm going to save you," Emily smiled, getting her plastic cup off the table from dinner and one of the pieces of paper on the table.

"Where are you going?!" Dan exclaimed, Emily scurrying off before he could catch her. Dan wanted to follow her, stop her, but he felt frozen to his place as he thought about what was in there. Colby looked at him curiously, tugging on his shirt to be lifted. Dan picked Colby up as Emily came back into the kitchen holding her cup with some paper placed underneath it.

"See, dad, it's okay! I saved us!" Emily beamed, gesturing to the cup. "The spiders in here!"

Dan held back another screech as a shiver wracked through his body. He put Colby back on the floor, holding his hand, and went to the front door, opening it up and letting Emily step out with the cup. She placed it on the floor, releasing the little demon, and then made her way back inside. After the door was shut, Dan crouched onto the floor where Emily was stood swaying, with her hands clasped behind her back.

"Sorry for getting the spider when you said no. I just wanted to save you," she said quietly, looking down at her feet which were clad with mismatched socks (definitely Phil's daughter.) Dan was awed at his daughter. He reached a hand out to move some of her black fringe away so he could look into chocolate eyes. He never liked his eyes, never understood Phil's obsession with them. However, the day he looked into her eyes, he fell in love with them. All he could see was kindness, sunshine, and love.

"Oh, sweetheart," he whispered. "My saviour."

He wrapped her up in his arms, kissing the side of her head. Colby wrapped his arms around her legs, too.

"I love you. You don't need to be scared anymore," Emily smiled.

"I won't be scared anymore."

***************

Dan, Emily and Colby were all snuggled together on the couch when Phil returned home. Colby had fallen asleep on Dan's chest at some point and Emily had her head on his shoulder.

"Everyone's in one piece, I see?" was the first thing he said upon entering the living room.

"Pa!" Emily grinned, standing up and reaching her arms up to him. He lifted her, snuggling her tight before kissing her black curls.

"Have you been good?" Phil questioned her with a smile, placing her back down on her feet and bending down so he was at eye level.

"Yes! I saved dad's life today!" She beamed. Phil snickered, looking at Dan who was blushing again.

"Well, I wouldn't quite put it like that," he mumbled.

"My mum called, you know? It was quite interesting," Phil teased. "Something about a spider?"

"I didn't call her, Emily did!" Dan insisted.

"She couldn't come, so I had to save dad instead. I used my cup and got it because dad was sad about it," Emily explained. Phil's face softened as he looked at his husband. He knew how he got around spiders.

"Well, thank God you were here to look after him!" Phil said, tickling her sides, making her squeal. Phil went to sit next to Dan on the sofa and kissed him on the lips. He looked down at Colby who was sleeping soundly on Dan's chest, his heart fluttering in his chest at the sight.

"He's having his nap. We should wake him up in an hour or so," Dan mumbled. Phil nodded, helping Dan off the sofa so they could take Colby to his room. Dan put him in his bed and turned to leave the room before he was stopped by a hand on his arm. He turned to look at Phil who kissed him again, for longer. He placed his hands on Dan's hips, pulling him closer. When he pulled away, he moved a hand up to Dan's cheek, running his thumb along his cheekbone.

"I don't blame you for what happened today, Dan. I know it's always been an anxiety for you," Phil murmured. "I think you've done an amazing job with them today, and I underestimated you."

Dan snorted and rolled his eyes, "It was a fucking mess, Phil. I made our 7-year-old daughter get a spider because I was such a wimp."

"No, Dan. You were trying to protect her from something you're scared of. That's fine; it was an instinct. I think that makes you a pretty fantastic, father," Phil explained, the fondness in his words was almost unbearable. "Every day, you're going to have to help her with something she's scared of and it's a part of growing up. It's nice that she could help you today."

Dan smiled, taking Phil's hand that was on his cheek and leaving a kiss on it, "Thank you, love. I think maybe we're both pretty fantastic."

"I couldn't agree more."

#fluff #angst #fears #love #parent!phan #Dan and Phil #phanfiction #phan #happy ending #family

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years

Text

Burned Part 7

Summary: Alfie Solomons is in need of a secretary. Tommy Shelby mentions a young woman in need of employment. From there, the two step into a dangerous dance together.

Part 7: Alfie and Louise escape to Margate

The bakery was a war zone, had been for the whole week and it was finally Friday. Some men were genuinely afraid they wouldn’t make it to the weekend.

Despite his new relationship, Alfie was in a terrible mood. He couldn’t spend enough quality time with Louise anyway. He’d work through the middle of the night, much too late to drop by her apartment.

Sabini had been giving him trouble and the two had fallen out yet again. He was harassing Alfie’s bookies and the two got into a heated argument over the matter. Racial slurs were tossed about and it ended with Ollie stopping his boss from whipping out a gun.

Now everyone was a target. Even Louise was given grunts or clipped one-word answers. It didn’t bother her so much as she knew the anger wasn’t directed at her. But it did bother her that he was distressed.

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

Finally, one hot summer afternoon, she had to intervene.

“Fucking hell…Lou? Louise!”

She looked up from her desk situated right outside Alfie’s office door. She stood and went in.

Alfie was sat in his leather chair, one hand braced against the desk, and the other grasped his cane tightly. A disgruntled look of pain etched into his face, his forehead wrinkling and brow furrowed.

“Help me up.” He said curtly.

Louise didn’t think it was wise to remind him of his manners. “Is it your hip?” She walked over to him. Cyril followed her, concerned about his master.

Alfie’s hip wasn’t reacting well to the stress. His lip was more prominent which made him more upset because he despised appearing weak. He only confided in Louise or Ollie about the pain. Louise wanted to tell him it was because he was either sat at his desk working endless hours or beating up anyone who got on his bad side. But saying that would only make him more upset. Stubbornness couldn’t be cured by reason.

“’Course it’s me fucking hip.” He replied gruffly.

“What do you need? I can get it for you.” She offered.

“I can get it, just help me up.”

“Alfie, you’re in pain. You should take it easy, I’ll-”

“I can fucking handle it!” He set off, slapping his palm on the desktop. Louise startled and Cyril whimpered, tucking his tail between his legs and cowering away.

Alfie groaned and slumped back in the chair. “M’sorry.” He ran a hand over his weary face. “Just don’t wanna be some useless git who can’t get around his own fucking office.”

“You’re been under too much stress.” She knelt down and rested her hands on his knees. “Maybe you should take a break.”

“No rest for the wicked, love.” He set his cane aside and tucked a finger under her chin.

“The bakery will be fine without you for a few days. You know Ollie can handle it.” She urged softly. “You need to trust that.”

“Can’t, Lou, there’s too much going on right now.” He grimaced. What he wouldn’t do to just snap Sabini’s spine.

“You need to get out of London.” She continued to persist. “You need clean air for a change. That’ll help your hip.” Her thumbs rubbed circles over his knees. “We won’t go far and they’ll be a phone so you can always check in with Ollie. You and I can spend time together.” It was an unfair tactic to convince him, baiting him with alone time, but it worked.

“Margate.”

“Hm?”

“Margate, s’on the water. ‘Bout a few hours drive.”

Louise smiled. “Should I go call for a rental cottage? Something by the beach?”

He coaxed her up off her knees. “Fucking perfect you are.” He murmured before kissing her. Already some of the stress began to trickle off his shoulders.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Oi! Put that down, you mutt!” Alfie shouted to Cyril who had gathered a large amount of kelp in his mouth. The bullmastiff romped around, the salty mess sticking to his face.

Louise and Alfie made the getaway to Margate. Ollie was stunned that she’d convinced the boss to stop working for a few days. But he didn’t question it. They planned to stay for the weekend in a little cottage. It was just the two of them and Cyril. They arrived early Friday evening and headed down to the beach after putting their things away in the cottage.

“Right, you’ll fucking get sick, not a problem of mine.”

Louise laughed softly. “Let him have his fun.” They watched the large dog lope about the empty beach. His big paws leaving prints in the wet sand. He seemed pleased to be in the wide-open space with brand new smells.

They were all happy to be there.

Louise wrapped an arm around Alfie’s and pressed close to his side. They stood in the dunes overlooking the gray ocean. The sun was setting and it was a little chilly by the water. London’s brutal heat seemed like a lifetime away.

“I want to die here,” Alfie said, punching his cane into the sand with emphasis. “Told myself, I wouldn’t die in France and I didn’t. Won’t fucking die in London either, it’ll be here.”

Louise believed a man like Alfie could pick the location of his death. But the conversation still made her uneasy at the idea. She didn’t want to think about him dying.

“No, no, ah you fucking git!” Alfie groaned as Cyril chased a seagull right into the waves. The dog splashed around joyfully, never having the chance to swim before. “He’ll smell fucking awful now.” He grimaced. “He innit sleeping in our room.”

Louise smiled and squeezed his arm. “I think he’s happy.” She could see the glint of amusement in Alfie’s eyes even if he didn’t want to let it out.

“Right, c’mon you mutt.” His arm slipped from hers and he limped further down the beach. “Cyril! Get over here, don’t know if you even can fucking swim.”

She couldn’t help but laugh as Cyril charged out of the water towards him. The soaking wet dog shook off the saltwater right next to Alfie. The man groaned and rolled his eyes. Cyril galloped up the dunes to Louise, panting and wagging his tail.

“Easy, easy!” Louise giggled and tried not to let him get her wet too. She knelt down and picked a few bits of seaweed off of his coat.

Alfie returned with a damp shirt from the dog’s frenzied shake.

“Why here?” She looked up from Cyril.

“Eh?”

“You said you wanted to die here.” She reminded him of their conversation moments before.

He nodded and grunted as he lowered himself to sit on the sand. “S’fucking beautiful, innit? Want to die somewhere beautiful, wouldn't you?”

Louise sat beside him, tucking her feet to the side and taking one of his hands between both of hers. “It’s got to be more than that.”

“Mhm, maybe.”

Getting Alfie to talk about his past was a careful task. It was like coaxing a beaten animal into an embrace. It took time and unbelievable patience.

“Did you come here when you were younger?” She surmised this was the case. She would always have a special niche in her heart for her childhood places.

He swallowed and looked out to the ocean. “Few times.” He finally admitted. “My mum took me here probably four, five times.” There was a clear softness in his voice when the woman came to mind.

“You haven’t told me about her.” Louise ran her thumb over his knuckles, gently pressing into the ridges of his calloused hand.

“She was from Russia.” He cleared his throat. The subject of his mother rarely came up simply because he didn’t have anyone to talk to about her. Someone he could trust with sensitive information. He only had three pictures of her and he prayed she would keep visiting his dreams. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, it brought him immense heartache when he woke and realized she was gone. But he wanted to keep the memory of her alive, the mental image he had which was far better than the grainy black and white photographs.

“She was Jewish?” Louise wanted Alfie to know she was responsive and sympathetic. She wanted him to feel safe as he let her sneak a peek into his fiercely guarded heart.

He nodded, his blue eyes still fixed on the horizon. “Were the reason she had to leave. They chased my whole family down. Slaughtering ‘em like they were animals. They got everyone ‘cept my mum, aunt, and father. Didn’t know my aunt, she didn’t make it to London. Was young when my dad died,

‘round six. My mum had my brother when I was four.”

“You have a brother?”

“Had a brother.” He nodded solemnly. “Lost him to the war. Wife was devastated, couldn’t handle my nephew so I took him in and put him to work.”

Her eyes lit up in surprise. “You raised a child? You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Not particularly. He was a teenager by that time, just lived with me for a bit 'til he went out on his own. Fucking terror that thing is, a boxer too.”

“Runs in the family, then?”

“Well, when you’ve faced opposition your whole life, you’re raised to fight everything and anything.” He rested back on his elbows, not bothered by the sand.

Louise’s chest tightened. She felt guilty that both her parents had raised her. Her family had never experienced tragedy like Alfie’s had. They’d been blessed and yet she rebelled and could never reconcile with her parents.

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Hell of a woman, me mum, did whatever it took to survive. Real small, outgrew her when I were fifteen at least. But she could pack a fucking wallop when she found out I got in trouble.” He chuckled. He could recall his tiny mother shouting at him in Russian when the police knocked on her door. Petty theft and harassing cops frequently got Alfie in trouble. His mother tried to set him on the right path but they were stuck in an immigrant, low-income community. The lure of crime was too great for a short-tempered teen like Alfie. His brother on the other hand usually kept in line.

“Is that where you get your strength from, then?” Louise giggled softly.

“Maybe.” He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Never stopped loving me though, no matter what I did. Called me her myshka.”

“What does that mean?” She rested her chin on his shoulder and smiled warmly.

“Erm…little mouse.” He admitted and his face went a little red. “Guess I was fucking small when I was born.”

“Cute.” She cooed and squeezed his arm.

He held up a hand. “No one else can know that, yeah?” He warned sheepishly. “Can’t have those fucking Shelbys using it to their advantage.

“I promise.” The smile faded though. “What happened to your mother?”

Hard lines formed on his face. “She died when I was in Somme.” He explained quietly. “Heart attack.”

“Oh, Alfie, I’m sorry.” She touched his cheek.

“Would’ve loved you though.” He finally looked over at Louise, not lingering on her sympathy. “Granted, you’re not Jewish but she was fucking desperate. Wanted me married with children ‘fore I was twenty-one.” He sighed and shook his head. “But, ‘course, she would like you for you. You even me out, yeah, keep me balanced.” His eyes gazed fondly at her. “Took me quite enough time to find you, ain’t wasting it.”

Louise smiled warmly and kissed his cheek. “We don’t have to waste any time.”

His heart skipped a beat and he nuzzled her cheek. She giggled softly as his beard tickled her. Her face scrunched up and she arched away from him.

“C’mon, you two.” Alfie heaved himself up and offered a hand to her. “Getting fucking cold, innit?”

Louise had barely even noticed the sun had almost fully dipped below the horizon. She was too fixated on Alfie. The sky had darkened into a royal violet color. Bright stars began to appear and blink dimly. The wind had begun to pick up and goosebumps pricked her arms.

She took his hand to stand up, brushing sand off her skirt. She linked arms with Alfie and they walked up the path to the rental cottage. Cyril trotted after them, panting happily.

“Gonna rinse the sand off him ‘fore he goes in,” Alfie said as they returned to the stone walkway. The cottage was overgrown with roses and ivy. It was fairly isolated along the coast of Margate; the nearest neighbor was about a five-minute walk down the dirt road. It was heavenly. The air was still and the peaceful sounds of crickets and the nearby ocean surf were like a lullaby.

Louise stood near the front door as Alfie led Cyril over to the water pump by the side of the cottage. She smiled slightly to herself as she felt the breeze kissed her face and the scent of sea salt tickled her nose. London’s smoke was just a wisp of a memory. She knew it would be extremely difficult to leave.

“As clean as he’s ever gonna get.” Alfie returned with Cyril. The bullmastiff happily greeted Louise again with a press of his cold nose to her hand. She stroked his head lovingly as Alfie unlocked the door and let them in.

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

After a small dinner, Alfie helped Louise clean up the kitchen. It was something she had never experienced before. Daniel always disappeared once he was finished eating. It was surprising but she just smiled and thanked him afterward. She didn’t want to make a big deal out of it like he was a child.

It was domestic though, and Louise realized she liked it. Often times, as a married woman, she would dread to return home after work. She resented Daniel’s lack of appreciation for all she did. But she could easily imagine how wonderful it would be to return home with Alfie. Have dinner with him each night, read in the parlor together, and then head to bed. It was simple but meant so much.

“You tired?”

Deep in her thoughts, Louise almost didn’t realize what he asked. “Oh, a bit.” She shrugged.

“Should call Ollie to check in. You can head to bed though, don’t need to stay up for me.” His ocean-colored eyes were tender on her.

She nodded but decided to alter the plan a little. When Alfie retreated to the small sunroom to call Ollie, she shut the bedroom door. It wasn’t like Louise was planning to be devious that trip. But she was looking to relieve Alfie’s stress. And she could recall the wise words of an old friend who knew her way around a man’s body.

“If a man’s stressed and angry it simply means he hasn’t had a good fuck.”

It’d been some time since Louise indulged in the sexual desires she had as a rebellious young woman. She’d lost that sense of freedom when she was married. But Alfie awoke that side of her. And the holiday to a secluded cottage seemed like the best time to act. It was soon, very soon, into their relationship. But he was no usual suitor and Louise was a little too drunk on the idea of him.

Louise stepped out of the bedroom, her bare feet padding against the cool wood floor. With a mix of excitement and apprehension bubbling in her stomach, she went to find Alfie.

His back was to her, sitting at a small desk by the glass of the sunroom’s walls. He spoke steadily with the phone in hand.

Louise came up behind him and looped her arms around him. He startled a bit but a hint of a smile formed when he sensed her against him. He continued speaking to Ollie, discussing any movements from Sabini.

A bit impatient, she started to trail kisses down his jawline and to his neck. Her fingers fiddled with the buttons on his shirt.

His voice hitched and he lost his train of thought. His chest tightened and he groaned quietly.

“Sir?” Ollie’s confused voice came from the other line.

“Call you tomorrow.” Alfie quickly hung up and stood. “Trying to seduce me while I’m on the phone?” He chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief as he took in her appearance. “Look at you, fucking tease, ain’t ya?”

Louise batted her eyelashes innocently. “Well, my boss gave me a raise, so I could go out and buy some nice things.” She spun around teasingly to show off the blush pink nightgown.

“Aw, that’s sweet, innit? You bought a present for me?” He smirked and grabbed her hips to pull her close. “Like red on you better though.” His voice was husky as his fingers trailed down her thigh. His hand fisted around the silky fabric of the nightgown.

“Well, I liked the pink.” She tilted her chin up to just barely graze her lips over his. “Doesn’t matter what color it is, you’re going to take it off anyway.”

Alfie’s pupils blew and he stifled a moan. “Where’d you learn to talk like that, posh girl?” He growled playfully.

“I don’t kiss and tell.” Her fingers knotted in his hair.

He chuckled breathlessly. “Fucking hell. Gotta say though, my religion don’t really take kindly to sex ‘fore marriage.” His voice was coy while she pressed against him.

“I think you’ve broken more than a few rules, Alfie.”

“Well, fuck, you’ve got me there.” He grinned and picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist.

Louise squealed softly at the sudden movement and kissed him deeply. Her feet locked together behind him as he walked to the bedroom.

Tag list: @vehement-care @kimmietea

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

#alfie solomons #alfie solomonsxoc #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #series #ofc #oc #tom hardy #cyril solomons

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ouyang-zizhen · 4 years

Text

A LingZhen Ranch AU OS

Yes, they still don’t have official titles because that’s how they’re named for now XD So, in this AU, City boy Jin Ling has to go lay low at his uncle Wei Wuxian’s ranch because his other uncle Jin GuangYao messed up and is now in prison, and being the heir of the infamous Jin Corp, the press was being heavy on him. Of course, Jin Ling doesn’t want to go on the countryside, but uncle Jiang Cheng didn’t leave him much of a choice. Farm boy ZiZhen, foster child of Wei Wuxian and Lan WangJi since he was thirteen years old, makes quite the impression on Jin Ling once he gets there.

In this OS, their relationship is established, Jin Ling went back to the city after things calmed down, and ZiZhen visits him for the first time. Enjoy!

The city’s light tumbled through his half-closed eyelids. He could only watch in amazement wherever they went. The neons, the skyscrapers, despite the night being advanced, everything was so alight and alive. So different from where he came from.

- Jin Ling! We need… we need to go see that movie! It looks good!

ZiZhen pointed to the giant billboard at the entrance of the nearest subway station. His words were slurred by a whole evening of them jumping from bar to bar, enjoying what he dubbed their “first official date in the big city”. Jin Ling had rolled his eyes, arguing that they’ve already had plenty of dates together, but he had to admit - albeit reluctantly - that his boyfriend’s looked too cute in his excitement to deny. After all, ZiZhen had only seen the city by day so far, so Jin Ling agreed to show him around the district that never sleeps.

- ZiZhen, love. That’s a perfume ad.

He looked confused for a few seconds before laughing at himself, and Jin Ling couldn’t help but smile and laugh too.

By around midnight, they’ve been to four of Jin Ling’s top 10 favourite bars and restaurants, and, seeing ZiZhen’s state already, he realized he might have been a little too ambitious with his plans. Despite his height and muscle mass, his farm boy was a real light weight when it came to drinking.

- Come on, he said, putting an arm around his waist, I think it’s time to go home.

ZiZhen agreed, but not before pulling his boyfriend into a kiss that left Jin Ling breathless. When they parted, he put a hand on his chest, voice hoarse.

- Okay, let me just call an Uber.

While they waited outside, underneath the awning surrounding one of the many theaters in that area, ZiZhen pulled his boyfriend into a warm embrace, his chin resting on Jin Ling’s head. The latter hugged back and smiled when ZiZhen rubbed his cheek against his hair. Despite the people coming and going on the street, the world was somehow quiet around them. When he saw a couple being photographed by a third party on the sidewalk, a couple of meters from them, ZiZhen remembered the conversation with Jiang Cheng’s a few weeks prior. The shovel talk had gone much better than he expected, but some of what he said that day still puzzled him. “Do you know who he is, to the public?”, he had asked, and ZiZhen had to admit that, besides being the now young CEO of Jin Corp, he still had no idea who his boyfriend was to the rest of the world, especially not to the media. But he knew one thing for sure.

- If I ever do something that makes you feel ashamed in public, you can break up with me!

Jin Ling pulled away and lifted his head up, absolute confusion written on his face.

- What?

- If you feel ashamed of me, ZiZhen repeated serenely, you can break up with me.

- Yes, that I heard, but where is this coming from? Why do you think I would break up with you? Why would I feel ashamed of you?

Jin Ling was now scowling, his tone irritated… and perhaps afraid? ZiZhen caressed his cheek and kissed the line that formed in between his eyebrows.

- Your uncle… When he gave me the shovel talk, he told me about your public status and -

- What did he tell you?!

Jin Ling’s whole body stiffen and he would have pushed away if ZiZhen didn’t hold him there. His boyfriend kept that same calm expression and smiled at him.

- He just asked if I knew about what the public thinks of you, and I just thought… If your public image is that important, I know I’m just a farm boy, and I don’t know that much about the city, so… if I ever do something that would taint your image in any way, you can leave. I love you, and I just want you to be happy, and -

He got cut off by Jin Ling’s lips on his, pushing him against the pillar of the awning.

- Idiot, he said tenderly when he pulled away, that’s not what Jiujiu meant.

Their Uber driver honked at them once, startling them. Before they climbed in, Jin Ling kissed him again.

- I’ll tell you another time. When I’m ready. And both of us are sober.

***

The car smelled like ice cream. That’s all ZiZhen could think about as they drove in silence through the city, Jin Ling’s hand in his. When they passed in front of the third board advertising yet another brand of ice cream, he turned to his boyfriend, startling him.

- I want gelato.

Jin Ling raised an eyebrow at him.

- We can have some tomorrow.

- It’s already tomorrow, ZiZhen insisted. I want gelato.

- The shops are probably all closed by now, Jin Ling scoffed, yet unable to completely hide his smile at his boyfriend’s eagerness.

- I know this place near 3rd avenue, it��s open 24/7, I can take you there if you want, offered the Uber driver.

- Yes please!

- Wait!

Jin Ling turned to his boyfriend.

- If we wait until tomo - later today, I can bring you to the best gelato parlour in town.

ZiZhen shook his head, imperturbable.

- I want gelato now.

Seeing his boyfriend’s unmoved expression, ZiZhen closed the distance between them and softly kissed his cheek.

- Please?

With a huff, Jin Ling turned to the driver and agreed to his suggestion, much to ZiZhen’s delight.

The gelato parlour was empty save for two seemingly high customers eating their share at one of the tables, laughing at a joke they made five minutes prior. Behind the counter, the tired but welcoming smile of the employee has long turned into an annoyed pout. ZiZhen has been staring at the flavours for the past fifteen minutes now. Jin Ling was already on his second serving.

- Come on, ZiZhen, just pick a flavour!

ZiZhen looked up, scandal written on his face.

- No! This is my first time having gelato, and I want it to be the best experience I can ever… experience.

Maybe, but you’re clearly not this poor girl’s first customer. Pick a flavour, and have yourself another serving if you want more.

- It’s not that easy!

Jin Ling slowly exhaled through his nostrils, exchanging a look with the clerk. He apologetically shrugged, mouthing “I’m sorry”, before taking another spoonful of gelato. Another five minutes passed. He ordered another one.

- Okay. I know what I’ll take, said ZiZhen.

- Fucking finally!

They sat down on the now empty chairs, ZiZhen carefully tasting the four different flavours in his extra large container. Jin Ling finished his and threw it in the trash can.

- So, how does it taste, Master Chef?

ZiZhen stared at his cup, spoon hanging between it and his mouth. He pouted.

- Disappointing.

- I told you we should’ve waited to go to the other place.

ZiZhen brought the spoon to his mouth and nodded.

- Can we still go tomorrow anyway?

Jin Ling smirked.

- You mean today?

ZiZhen lightly whacked his shoulder with his spoon and pulled his tongue at him, then quickly finished the rest of his gelato. After getting up, he pulled Jin Ling on his feet and held his hand, leaving a taste of coffee and caramel on his lips with a kiss.

- Let’s go home?

Jin Ling nodded.

- Ya. We can walk from here, it’s not too far.

They left the parlour, fingers intertwined.

***

Home was farther than Jin Ling anticipated. They had been walking, hand in hand, for half an hour, and still, no sign of his apartment building. While they started walking at the same pace, now, Jin Ling had slowed a few steps behind, while ZiZhen kept ahead. But there was no way he would tell his farm boy how much his feet hurt. He didn’t spend these months on his uncle’s ranch to complain about aching limbs so soon. Jin Ling didn’t get to finish his mental pep talk when ZiZhen stopped walking.

- Are you alright?

Jin Ling frowned.

- Of course I’m alright, what would make you think I’m not?

ZiZhen looked at his boyfriend and smiled, understanding.

- You’ve been digging your nails in my hand for at least five minutes.

Jin Ling looked at their hands and loosened his grip, noticing the half-moon shape imprinted in ZiZhen’s skin. He kept his eyes on the ground, cheeks reddening.

- I’m sorry.

ZiZhen laughed, and pulled him closer. Jin Ling let out a scream of surprise when what he thought would be a hug became ZiZhen’s arms behind his back and knees, lifting him up from the ground.

- Hey! Put me down! You’re still drunk!

- I’m not, and your feet hurt.

- So?

ZiZhen laughed again.

- So, isn’t this more comfortable?

Jin Ling would have argued, but his pride left in a huff and he answered by weaving his arms around his neck, head dropping on his shoulder. The surprisingly steady rocking of the walk and the heat of ZiZhen’s body slowly lulled him to sleep.

***

He was on his bed when he opened his eyes, ZiZhen curled behind him, Fairy at their feet. Jin Ling turned around, careful not to wake him up and softly kissed the tip of his nose.

- Fine, you deserve another round of gelato, he whispered.

ZiZhen responded with an incomprehensible mumble and pulled him closer. Jin Ling laughed quietly and fell back asleep in the crook of his shoulder.

It’s important to note that none of the OS I’ve been writing so far would exist without my amazing 2 am brainstorm partner @demonitized-cultivation (otherwise known as @mistress-jin-ling). This one is no exception.

Huge thanks also to @eternalserenity, for her many insights and contributions to these ideas also!

@bi-the-wei, thank you for beta reading this with such enthusiasm!

@chi-zi, hope you’ll enjoy this one!

#ouyang zizhen #jin ling #the untamed #cql #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #fanfic #os #ranch au #modern au #lingzhen #jin ling x ouyang zizhen #rare pair

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seasickbaby · 5 years

Text

Heat of the Moment

prompt: She (for Liz) - Parachute // “how can the only thing that’s killing me, make me feel so alive”

pairing: Joel Pimantel x Reader

warning: drinking, fluff and some arguments

word count: 2.2k (I apologize for making it so long) A/N: hello babies this is for @cieloxcnco ‘s writing contest! Congratulations on 1k love, you truly deserve it! <3 feed back is greatly appreciated & I hope you enjoy the story!

----------------------

You were six years old when your dad’s job relocated him to their headquarters in California. He had taken this opportunity to bring his family with him in order for them to have a brighter future. Being new in town, you didn’t know anybody and had no friends. During an uneventful warm sunday morning, you went outside your new home and saw your parents helping the movers unload the truck containing your new furniture. Already missing your old home you sighed to yourself. You walked to the front of your lawn to play with your favorite toy: a small white horse which you named “Caballito Blanco”. Lost in your own world you didn’t notice the little boy that had approached you until he yelled hello in your ear. A little annoyed by the sudden interruption you looked up to greet the stranger.

“Hello?” you responded, sounding more like a question.

“Hi! I’m Joel Pimentel De Leon.” The little boy said proudly with a big smile on his face. He noticed how shy you were and, in an attempt to make you open up, he took out a toy from behind his back; it was a small blue horse similar to yours.

He reached it out in front of you, “His name is Caballito Azul. Here” he said softly, indicating for you to grab it.

You smiled up at Joel and carefully took the horse from his small hands into your own.

“Y/N.” You responded “My name is Y/N Y/L/N”.

The memory held a special place in your heart. Ever since that day, you and Joel had been inseparable; refusing to do anything unless it involved the other.

When Joel auditioned for La Banda you were backstage waiting for him with open arms.

He took you with him to rehearsals and you quickly befriended all of the other boys.

As soon as the news broke out that the band was going on tour Joel begged Ricky to let you tag along, promising you would help out and not get in the way; hence how you ended up becoming the group’s personal photographer.

Joel was your best friend and you loved him.

Which was why you your love for him was a secret you would always keep to yourself.

April 7, 2019

You heard a knock at the door and turned to see Zabdiel’s head pop in, eyes squinting, trying to find you in the darkness of your room. You smiled at how funny he looked and pat the spot next to you on the bed. He walked over with a frown on his face scanning your appearance: big hoodie and spandex on, messy bun and blankets all around you.

“Que haces?” He asked, flopping down next to you.

“Catching up on some shows” You responded, offering him some of the popcorn you were munching on. He grabbed a handful and tried pop them all in his mouth at once, but epically failed, spilling it everywhere.

“You know we’re leaving in an hour for the party right?” He looked over at your not-so-ready-self. You popped a popcorn in your mouth and gave him a smiling nod before turning back to the TV screen in front of you. Getting frustrated by your lack of reaction he took the remote from your lap and turned the TV off.

“Hey!!! Rachel was about to confess her feelings for Ross, give it back!” You said with a pout.

“No estas lista y ya mismo nos vamos!” He held the remote above his head and out of reach from you. You tried tackling him and, much to your surprise, he actually lost his balance and you both tumbled to the ground; he broke your fall by landing with you on top of him.

“Ay dios mio mami!” He breathed out in between laughs.

After somewhat catching your breath from laughing so hard you stole the remote back and pressed play.

“You make a good cushion” You attempted to be funny but mentally kicked yourself after realizing how cringy you actually sounded. He grabbed your waist chuckling and looked at you in the eyes.

The moment was interrupted by the door suddenly opening.

“Yo Y/N do you know where my bandana--- what the…” Joel trailed off when he saw his two best friends together on the ground. Clenching his jaw, he walked out as quickly as he had walked in, slamming the door behind him.

You honestly didn’t blame Joel for jumping to conclusions. If the tables were turned, and you walked in on him with a girl on top, you would have also assumed the worst.

But then again you were confused as to why he was so pissed off.

You cleared your throat and rolled off Zabdiel. You stood up and reached a hand out for him to grab. Once you both recollected yourselves he asked if you were finally going to start getting ready.

“I’m not going Zabdi” You crawled back on the bed but he pushed the covers off of you.

“Yes you are. You’re going to regret it if you don’t, it’s in a penthouse.” He rummaged through your suitcase trying to find you an outfit.

“I’m just not in the mood.” You whined but you knew there was no winning this battle. He threw a black tube top and white shorts on the bed.

“There will be free food.”

And with that you were off to the bathroom to get changed.

You couldn’t deny that the party was fun. You made a mental note to thank Zabdi for dragging your ass out of bed because, truth be told, you would have regretted seeing their instagram stories of them out while you laid in bed all because you were in a “bad mood”.

You danced with Erick, Zabdiel and Christopher the whole night. Richard had found a partner and was killing it in the middle of the dance floor. As for Joel… you actually had no idea where he was. You hadn’t seen him since the bus on the way to the party but you recalled him being quiet and on his phone the whole time.

Joel was upset. No doubt about it. After what he saw earlier tonight he assumed you were sleeping with Zabdiel and was trying to find a logical explanation as to why you hid it from him.

But that wasn’t the real reason why he was moody.

No.

He was upset because the thought of you with a guy other than him broke his heart. But you only saw him as a best friend and nothing more, which was why he would never confess his feelings to you; in fear that it would change the dynamic of the friendship you had cultivated for so many years. He knew that what you two had now was better than nothing at all.

So yes, he was mad. And you looking beautiful hadn’t helped his temper. The first thing he did when he got out of the bus was head directly for the bar. Although he was not much of a drinker, tonight was an exception, he started with some shots and a couple beers. A couple minutes later, he had a blonde sitting on his lap as he watched you dance from across the room, wishing he could be with you instead.

After dancing el guachineo with Erick, you told the guys you were going to grab a couple of drinks. You started heading towards the bar when you caught sight of Joel out of the corner of your eye. You turned to walk in his direction, excited to have found him, until you saw a pretty girl sitting on his lap. Her hands were running through his brown curls and her lips were kissing his neck. She brought her mouth close to his ear and whispered something that made him laugh. At that exact moment Joel’s eyes found yours and maintaining eye contact, he tilted her head to slowly connect their lips. Your blood ran cold at the sight of someone else kissing the lips you longed for. But you didn’t have the right to be mad, he wasn’t yours, in that sense, after all. Blinking away the image, you continued your walk towards the bar. Grabbing the shots you ordered for the guys you walked back to the spot where you thought you had left them but they were nowhere to be found.

“Well the more the merrier I guess...” You said out loud to no one in particular.

“Pa’ arriba, pa’ bajo, pa’ el centro y pa dentro!!” You chanted alone and downed the shots that were not supposed to be yours. You were sure you looked crazy to everyone else but at that point you didn’t care. Feeling the alcohol start to hit, you started to let loose on the dance floor. You were enjoying yourself until you felt two strong hands grip your hips from behind. You turned to see who it was and was met by a pair of piercing blue eyes. The man who had started dancing with you was tall and handsome, his chiseled facial features resembled those of a model’s and those full lips begged for you to kiss them. So that’s what you did. You didn’t realize at the time how dumb you were being, but you were too intoxicated to care. One kiss progressed into a full on makeout and a couple minutes later he was dragging you to the bathroom. Joel caught sight of this and debated whether or not to get involved. He had seen you take multiple shots, but didn’t think you were wasted enough to actually hook up with a stranger in a bathroom. When he saw you had no intentions of stopping he started to get up but was immediately pulled back down.

“Where are you going baby?” The blonde failed at seducing him since he already had a determined look on his face.

“I have to go I’m sorry but it was a pleasure meeting you.” He responded as he got up and followed you down a narrow hallway. After pushing through the crowd of sweaty bodies, Joel found you pinned up against a wall as the guy you were with trailed kisses down your neck. With a small growl he intervened, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you away.

“We’re going home.” He spat out and you could see fury in his eyes.

“What the hell are you doing?” You managed to slur out as he dragged you out of the party.

“I’m calling an Uber and taking you home.”

“But I’m having fun” You protested with the sharp scent of alcohol escaping your lips.

“Y/N, you were about to hook up with a random stranger in the bathroom!” His volume raised with each word, leaving you angry and hurt. Crossing your arms over your chest you remained quiet. He wasn’t wrong, if he hadn’t interrupted you would’ve made a terrible mistake, but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

The ride back to the house was long and quiet. No words were exchanged when you got out of the Uber other than a couple “thank you’s” to the driver.

Joel hurried in front of you until he noticed your trouble walking and came back, swung an arm around your waist, and basically carried you to the house. He may have been mad but he didn’t want his best friend to bust her face.

The sound of your ringer broke the silence, you looked down to see Zabdiel’s name and face on your screen.

“Of course.” Joel scoffed, catching a glimpse of the picture.

“What’s your issue?” You retorted, letting the call go to voicemail. Joel’s behavior was getting on every last one of your nerves.

“My issue,” He said as he stepped in front of you and looked you dead in the eye “is that I’m so incredibly in love with my best friend that pretending like there’s nothing there actually kills me.”

He hadn’t meant to blurt out his love for you. It happened in the heat of the moment. His face immediately turned a shade of red and he looked down at the ground, wishing the ground would swallow him whole.

There was a moment of awkward silence before you burst out laughing. Joel was taken aback by your reaction but it didn’t take long for him to join you with nervous laughter.

Seeing you smile and laugh so freely made his heart melt. He wondered how you had the power to make him feel alive even in the darkest of times and, somehow, managed to make him smile in the middle of an argument.

“Why are you laughing? It’s not funny…” He nervously said with a small laugh.

“Right, I’m sorry. I’ll be serious.” You tried to put a straight face on but couldn’t help the corners of your mouth from creeping up. You couldn’t contain your laughter any longer so you giggled and covered your mouth. You finally calmed down after Joel’s hands dropped from your shoulders and you saw sadness show into his eyes. You didn’t mean to make him feel bad, you just couldn’t believe this moment was real.

Stepping closer and cupping his cheeks with both hands you brought your face close to his.

“It’s funny because I’m in love with you too.”

#bella's 1000 follower contest #cnco #cnco fanfic #cnco imagine #cnco blog #joel pimantel #cnco joel #joel pimantel x reader #richard camacho #christopher velez #zabdiel de jesus #erick brian colon

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ashes-and-ashes · 5 years

Note

For the kisses list.. if you want 75 or 13... Good life :)

Okay so I did a speed write thing? This took me 30 minutes, and is 1.7k words. Sorry if it is crappy - I just was trying to write as many words as I can! (And I know it’s not 2k’s!! Sorry!!! I tried, but I’ve only written 2k words ONCE and that was when writing that Drarry fic!!)

#75 - Kisses meant to distract someone

Distraction

He stares at the paper, crumpled in his hand. The ink is smudged from where he grasped it, the edges ripped and slightly torn.

The words are darkly printed, carved into the parchment in a writing that is so familiar to him, a writing that haunts his dreams every night. Regulus’ writing is elegant, clean lines and defined print, so different from Sirius’ untidy scrawl. He supposed Regulus had always been like that, always willing to do anything to please his parents.

The words are burned into his memory, from the countless number of times he’s read the letter. The owl came at breakfast, landing in front of his porridge bowl, and he still remembers the feeling of nausea fishing up in his throat as he swallows.

Sirius,

Don’t come home. You can’t. I know you’re thinking of it, but you can’t. They will kill you. Actually, physically kill you.

Mum has burned you off the family tree. You can’t be a Death Eater anymore. You’ve been disowned.

I’m fine. They haven’t hurt me too bad yet.

Don’t respond. They are watching my mail.

-R

There’s something like Shane burning in his chest, a thick oily feeling that fills his stomach, his heart, his soul. He abandoned Regulus, left him at the mercy of his parents, unprotected and vulnerable and he feels vile rise up in his mouth. He swallows, hard, trying to banish the feeling.

He remembers when they were 7 and 6, both hiding underneath Sirius’ bed. Hiding from their mother, who even back then had no qualms about taking her fury out on her two sons. She had lashed out at Regulus, making his nose bleed, before Sirius had stepped in. He had earned a nasty cut in his forehead, and they huddled under the bed, trying not to sneeze from all the dust lurking in the cracks.

Regulus had whispered, keeping his voice low. I hate it here.

Sirius nodded. Me too.

Regulus tugged at Sirius’ sleeve, pulled at his hair. I don’t like it here. I don’t like being hurt. He pauses. We should run away, Sirius! We can escape, to that school you’re going to! Hogwarts or something, and we can ask if they would let us in early and - .

There’s something like hope in his chest, imagining the life they would have if they did decide to run. Run, far away, where Walburga couldn’t catch them, where they didn’t have to live in fear of the curses, the screaming, the pain and the injuries.

He scoffs, punching himself. It was a foolish thought, a hopeless one, and Sirius bit his lip. He had learnt, years before, that screaming only infuriated Walburga more, encouraged her to keep cursing, and so, he had taught himself not to make any noise. No. But I promise, I will always protect you.

From her? Regulus had asked.

Sirius nodded his head. Yes. I’ll always be there for you. Always.

He grimaces now, that broken promise slicing up his chest. It had shattered, into sharp, ugly things, twisted remains of past vows, and Sirius swears, under his breath.

He’s alone in the common room, taking up one of his favorite desks, and he sighs as he bends over an essay. Transfiguration, a 6 inch roll of parchment on the dangers of vanishing living objects, and it was due in roughly 8 hours.

Sirius glances at the clock, and he bangs his head on the table. 2 am in the morning, and he still had another 5 inches left to go.

He bites his lip. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate, ever since he left, the guilt and the anguish eating him up inside. The nightmares had returned, Regulus chained up and screaming, Remus writhing under silver weights, Peter being burned alive and James drowning. Dark dreams for someone so young, and yet, they never faded away. It was harder to concentrate, to laugh and speak, getting harder and harder to sometimes breathe.

He can feel the panic, at the back of his throat, bitter and metallic and raw. He swallows hard, trying to banish the feeling, trying to ignore it, trying to think of something else other then the mindless, suffocating terror that always starting to overwhelm him -

He hears the door creak open, and his heart stops. He couldn’t let anyone see him like this, on the verge of shattering completely, and he hastily arranges his mouth into a smile, causally rests his feet on the couch. He stares down at the essay, the words swimming together, praying that whoever walked in would just leave him alone -

He recognizes the person before they speak, recognizes the way their footsteps scho against the ground, the lock of brown hair that falls over his shoulder, the cool hands on his face. Remus frowns, reading over the 1 inch of his essay, the rambled words and slurred writing. “Si. You know this is due tomorrow right?” He pauses. “Well. Technically today, seeing as it is 2:26 in the morning and you still haven’t finished.”

“Shut up,” Sirius mutters, letting his head rest against Remus’. “It’s fine. I’ll get it down. Hell, I may even call it quits. Suck it up and accept a detention or something.”

Remus shakes his head, frowning over Sirus’ shoulder. “Look...this isn’t like you, Pads. Seriously, you’re disorganized, but not this disorganized.”

Sirius shakes his head. “Tell me about it.” He yawns. “Anyways, I need to finish. I…”

He trails off, cursing himself as he watches Remus’ eyes fix on the piece of paper lying on the ground by Sirius’ foot. Sirius jumps, trying to wrench it away from Remus’ eyes, but Remus is too quick for him. He lunges forward, snatching the scrap of paper and flattens it out. “What the hell is thsi, Si?”

Sirius shakes his head. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Bullshit.” Remus eyes are dark, scanning the page in front of him. “You’ve been disowned?”

The cold sinks into Sirius’ gut, the shame of the words eating him up inside. He sinks down, onto the floor, biting his lip as he did so. “I don’t know. It’s...it’s from Regulus. I…” He lets out a bitter laugh. “I abandoned him. Left him alone, with my fucked-up parents. And...guess they disowned me.”

Remus looks up. “Why can’t you get the Dark Mark now?”

Sirius sighs. “If I’m disowned...I’m not part of a family, right? I’m not part of the Sacred 28. I can’t be a Death Eater. I’m not considered a pure blood.” He shakes his head. “God. I don’t even know why I care so much. I shouldn’t care, right? I should be celebrating, because I got away from my parents! I’m finally free.” He bites his lip. “So why do I feel like I’m being ripped apart inside?”

Remus reaches over, packing a hand on Sirius’ cheek. “It’s natural. They raised you. They are still your family.”

“Buckshot. Family wouldn’t torture their own child.” Suspensions dogs the words out. “Family wouldn’t use Crucio until their own son passes out. Family wouldn’t lock their child in a cellar with no food for 3 days because the child spilt some water. Family wouldn’t tell their son every minute, every hour, every second of the day that he is wrong, because he’s in a different house then them.” Sirius’ voice is quiet, drifting off, shattered and dull and broken. “Family wouldn’t do that. They are not my family.”

Remus nods, glancing over at the essay lying on the ground. “I’m sorry, Sirius. I’m so sorry.”

Sirius shrugs. “Life is screwed up. Can’t do anything about it.”

“Why didn’t he leave?” Remus glands back down at the paper. “Why didn’t he leave with you? Why didn’t he run?”

Sirius lets out a short chuckle. “That’s Regulus. Always worried about the family’s reputation.” He bites his lip, hard, hard enough that the blood wells in his mouth. He welcomes the pai, the sudden bite of the air against the bleeding cut, and he scoffs. “Probably too scared to riks badgering mother.”

Remus frowns. “He sent you the letter.”

“Not that hard, to get one measly letter out the door.” Sirius mutters. He turns to the essay, almost ripping the paper in his ferocity. “I have to get this out.”

“Sirius - “ Remus sighs. “He’s your brother, Sirius. He cares for you.”

“Cares for me?” Sirius’ voice is flat. “I protected him. For 16 goddamn years I protected him. I took every Crucio, every Lacero, every Dolor and Confodere and Spinam and I did it to keep him safe because if he was hurt, it would kill me.” He stabs at the paper, tearing a rip in the side, smearing the ink over the page. “And I carry the scars around, all over my back, and he didn’t do anything. He did nothing, nothing to help me, nothing tos save me and when I finally snapped - “

“He let you go.” Remus’ voice is calm, gentle. He pulls away from the desk, cradling his shaking body with his own. “I could never imagine, what you go through. I’m just saying that maybe Regulus planned this out. Maybe he wanted you to hate him.”

Sirius lets out a short laugh. “Why would he want you to do that.”

“Because.” Remus brushes the hair from Sirius’ face. “You wouldn’t feel inclined to stay behind if you hated him.”

The words sink deep, slicing Sirius up inside, and he glares down at the floor, trying not to cry. “That’s not true. Why would he - “

There are gentle hands on his face, tilting his chin up, and Remus cuts him off with a kiss. It’s sloppy, at an awkward angle, Remus bending over him, just a slight brushing of lips, but Sirius feels himself melting. He reaches up, grasping Remus’ face, cupping his cheekbones with his palms, pressing them closer, pressing them harder, so close until all they can do is breathe each other in.

Remus huffs a laugh. “Distracted?”

“Shut up,” Sirius mutters, pulling Remus on top of him.

When Sirius wakes up the next morning, the couch is cold.

He sits up, frowning, running a hand through his already disheveled hair, glancing at the clock.

He almost falls off the cushions with shock. It’s 7:30, classes start in 45 minutes and he still has another 5 inches left on his essay -

The thought dies off as he looks beside him, sees the roll of parchment on the desk. Sirius gapes as he walks over, sees the scroll resting neatly on the table. Beside it is a note:

Sorry for distracting you. xoxox Re

#wolfstar #wolfstar angst #wolfstar writing #wolfstar fics #sirius black #sirius black writing #sirius black angst #sirius black fics #remus lupin #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fics #remus lupin writing #regulus black #the marauders #wolfstar fanfic #the marauders era #the marauders fanfic #my wolfstar writing

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illumynare · 5 years

Text

Red vs Blue Fic: Gift of the Magi (10/12)

Summary: Wash has already gone through too much, been broken too often. So when they get captured by Hargrove together, Tucker figures he has one job: until the cavalry shows up, keep Wash alive and (relatively) sane. No matter the cost.

Unfortunately, Wash is just as determined to protect him.

Parings: None. Warnings: Rated M. Canon-typical language, aftermath of canonical character death, psychological torture, hallucinations, hallucinated child harm, mentions of torture and suicide, fake-out character death.

Notes: Also available on AO3!

GUESS WHO'S BACK, BITCHES.

I am so so so sorry it took me this long to update. 2018 was........a difficult year for me, creatively. But I am writing again and determined to finish this story. Huge thanks to @a-taller-tale for being a sweetheart beta, @saltsanford for screaming supportively, and everyone who let kudos/comments during the interim.

###

It’s day twenty-three of the worst camping trip ever, and Tucker has had it up to here with Agent Washington and his paranoid hard-on for drills.

(Not to mention his obsession with how they should all stay in their armor 24/7. So what if Tucker needs fresh air to sleep? Wash wouldn’t have to see him naked if he didn’t come storming into his room at the ass-crack of dawn to haul him out of bed.)

“This is bullshit,” Tucker grumbles, dropping into another squat.

“Keep counting,” Wash drones.

“Twenty—urgghh—three.” Tucker hauls himself back to his feet, glaring at Wash. “I can’t feel my toes anymore.”

“Come on, private. Freelancer’s rejects could do better than this.”

“No, duh. They were rejected super-soldiers. We were Freelancer’s target practice!”

“Huh,” Wash says dryly. “Well, that’s an idea.” He unholsters his rifle.

Tucker rolls his eyes. “Ooh, scary.”

The next moment he jumps as a bullet hits the dirt next to his foot. “What the fuck, man? Didn’t you give us a lecture about gun safety last night?”

“Rule two.” Wash’s voice is ice cold now, his rifle leveled at Tucker’s face. “Never point a firearm at anything you aren’t willing to destroy.”

His armor is gray again. How the hell didn’t Tucker notice before? And despite the bright sunlight there’s snow falling all around them in dizzying swirls, just like on Sidewinder.

Oh shit. Tucker can’t move.

“Time to run, private,” Wash says, but Tucker can’t move. “Three. Two. One—”

His voice suddenly cuts off with a loud record-scratch, at the same moment the snowflakes freeze in the air.

Yep, it’s me. Church flickers into existence, glowing blue and tiny, floating just a couple feet in front of Tucker’s face. I bet you’re wondering how we got here.

Tucker stares at him. “. . . the fuck?”

You’re dreaming, dumbass. Lucky for you, I can actually control your dreams when it’s your subconscious running them and not that fucking machine.

The only word in that speech that makes sense is machine, and even that Tucker’s not sure about. “But Freckles isn’t here yet,” he says.

Oh yeah, also? WAKE UP.

—and Tucker comes awake, thrashing and fighting the restraints for the second it takes his brain to boot up, for him to remember what’s happening and where he is.

It’s night. The room is empty, and dark except for the faint glow of the healing units over his and Wash’s beds.

“Church?” he says aloud.

This better work, Sheila, Church calls, and then appears beside Tucker’s head. In the darkness, he glows like a nightlight. “Okay, Tucker. Do you trust me?”

“The fuck?” Tucker says again, echoing his dream, because Church never says shit like this.

“Yeah, bad question. Actually, there is no question. Do what I say if you want to live.”

“I’m chained to a fucking hospital bed, I’m not doing anything!”

“I know. Just—STAY on the bed.”

Tucker rolls his eyes, automatically tugging at the restraints. “Wow, kinky. Do you want me to call you ‘daddy’ too?”

Before Church can reply, the door slides open. The lights come on, blinding bright, and Tucker has to blink for a few seconds before he can see that it’s the lemon-faced scientist who kept putting him in the machine, three Charon soldiers behind her.

“Come with me,” she says, and Tucker’s brain hysterically finishes, if you want to live.

Which is technically true; he’s pretty sure that the scientist wants him alive for testing purposes, and he’s positive that she’ll kill him if he doesn’t obey. But going with her means being put into that machine means getting killed by Wash again, and Tucker would have every reason to refuse her command even if Church hadn’t told him to stay put.

Not that he’s gonna get a choice. As Tucker thinks this, two of the soldiers step forward and start undoing the restraints, one working at his ankles and the other at his wrists.

The moment that the last strap unlatches, Church yells, “Now, FILSS!”

The doors slam shut.

It takes Tucker a moment to realize that something strange is happening. Automatic doors close all the time. But then Sheila says aloud, “Deploying defensive measures,” and there’s a hiss as a pale cloud billows in through the air ducts.

“Uh, sir?” says one of the soldiers, but the scientist is already at the door, fumbling at the keypad. When it doesn’t respond, she starts pounding against the door. “Open, damn you!” she yells, then staggers. And falls to the ground, as the rest of the soldiers do.

Tucker’s gasping for breath, a weird cocktail of terror and triumph pounding through his veins. He nearly jumps out of the hospital bed, because fuck yeah, they’re down for the count, and he doesn’t even care how it could have happened.

But Church is hovering in front of him, waving glowing arms. “Wait. WAIT.”

At the same time, Tucker hears the tinny, nearly-subsonic hum from overhead, notices the bright green glow, and suddenly it all comes together. Sheila piped in some kind of knockout gas, and the only reason Tucker’s still conscious is that the alien healing unit is scrubbing the stuff from his bloodstream as fast as he can inhale it.

That’s why Church told him to stay on the bed. Except Church is just a hallucination, so he couldn’t have possibly known because Tucker, didn’t know—unless—

“Church?” Tucker says, and he hates how his voice has gone small and wavering, but crazy as it is, he can’t help suddenly, desperately hoping that he isn’t alone, that—

“Okay, atmosphere back to normal, you can get off the bed,” says Church, as if he hadn’t heard him.

Tucker doesn’t move. He’s dizzy and numb and reeling with the sudden thought of maybe maybe maybe, and also at this point he’s so used to everything being a killer hallucination that it’s hard to care about what he actually does.

“Seriously, Tucker, get the fuck off that bed and unstrap Wash, we don’t have all day.”

It isn’t Church that gets Tucker moving, it’s the memory of the Freelancer video footage he watched, where Wash was strapped down to a bed and screaming. He slides off his bed and staggers over to Wash's bed. There’s still a weird, numb tingling in his fingers, and he fumbles with the straps for several minutes before he manages to get them undone.

In all the weird, fucked-up simulations that Tucker has experienced, Wash was never like this: still and unconscious and silent, limp as Tucker hauls him up into the rescue carry that once upon a time Wash made Tucker and Caboose practice back in the canyon.

In all the simulations, Tucker had never been able to help Wash.

“What now?” Tucker asks Church, because why not trust the hallucination? (Why not believe that Church is really still alive somehow?)

“Go out into the hallway,” says Church. “There’s a storage closet five hundred feet to your left.”

Tucker does. He finds the door, and it swings open at a touch—Sheila? Church? A fucking miracle? He doesn’t care, just pulls it shut behind him and eases Wash to the ground.

He hears the lock snick shut behind him. “Now what?” he asks.

Church doesn’t appear again. But he whispers into Tucker’s mind, Now we just gotta have faith.

Faith is fucking boring.

That’s Tucker’s conclusion, twenty minutes or maybe fifty hours into waiting, he has no way to keep track and he really doesn’t care. However long it’s been, it sucks to sit here in the dark, waiting for rescue because a hallucination told him to.

Wash woke up once. He snorted, and clawed at Tucker’s face a little. When Tucker shook him and said, The others are coming to get us, he launched into a series of weird, slurred apologies before he passed out again.

Which left Tucker alone.

And bored.

Church isn’t talking to him anymore. Tucker’s tried talking to him, again and again, but he never responds.

Of course he doesn’t, because Church doesn’t really exist. Except how did Tucker’s hallucination know what Sheila was planning to do? How did he know where Tucker and Wash could hide? What the fuck is going on?

Sirens go off, muffled through the door. Then they stop. Tucker hears a clatter of footsteps and gunfire, and then that stops.

Then the door slams open.

It takes a moment for Tucker’s eyes to adjust to the sudden rush of light. A moment before he sees who wrenched the door open.

It’s Carolina. She stands over him with a plasma rifle in each hand, an AI glowing over each shoulder. As much as Tucker's tried to avoid knowing anything about Church's fragments, he recognizes these two: the green one is Delta, Caboose's special buddy, and the red-gold one is Sigma, who Wash and Carolina thought might go crazy and evil for some reason.

Apparently Carolina isn't worried about that anymore.

“Can you walk?” she asks.

Tucker finds his voice, scrambling to his feet. “Duh,” he says. “How do you think we got here?”

He reaches for Wash at the same time Carolina does. Neither of them draws back, and for a moment he wonders wildly if they’re going to get into a tug-of-war.

Then Delta says, “I calculate an increased 57.8% chance of success if we allow Tucker to carry Agent Washington.”

Sigma flares brighter. “Agent Carolina, you excel at maneuvers that require maneuverability and speed.”

Carolina hesitates another second, but then she draws back, nodding in agreement.

“Don’t fall behind,” she tells Tucker, and turns away.

“That’s what she said!” Tucker says automatically, hauling Wash up into the rescue carry again. He staggers back out into the hallway after her, and then he doesn’t really have time to think of anything except how heavy Wash is, and how terrifying Carolina is.

He’d known that she’d had two AI fragments back in Project Freelancer, but he hadn’t realized what a difference it made—not until now, when she charges a squad of Charon soldiers, grabs one by the leg, and swings him so precisely that the soldier's shots at her take out all his teammates instead, what the fuck.

It’s honestly really hot.

Then they run into Red Team plus a bunch of New Republic soldiers; Tucker has never been so happy to see Simmons or Palomo in his life. Apparently there’s a larger operation against Hargrove going on, now that Sheila has told them where his ship is hiding, but this team is tasked with just getting him and Wash back to safety. They immediately hustle them into a Pelican, and it’s great, Tucker is so relieved—

Except once he’s strapped in and the acceleration has slammed him into his seat, the memories are suddenly back with a vengeance. It’s too much like the time they were rescued and Wash killed him, the time that Tucker absolutely deserved to be killed because he had—he had—

“Where’s Junior?” Tucker blurts out, before he can get even more afraid.

"Junior? " Grif says blankly. Tucker's heart stops.

It's not real, he tells himself, but his brain is working too well and his memories are too whole for him to believe this is a simulation now. And Church is silent in his skull. Whatever Grif says next, Tucker will have to live with, and if—if—

"Isn't he still at that dumb prep school you won't shut up about?" Grif says.

And shit, Tucker thinks he might be crying, but it doesn't matter. Junior's okay. His kid is okay.

He doesn’t even mind the silence where Church once was. Tucker can stand anything, as long as Junior’s okay.

#agent washington #lavernius tucker #rvb #rvb fic #red vs blue #my fic #my fic: gift of the magi

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nerdlife0612writes · 5 years

Text

‘Animals’ Part 7

The Songfic Universe ‘Animals’ By Maroon 5, Part 7 Pairing: The Shield x OC (Amber Miller) Rating: NC17 to R Word Count for actual story: 1,802

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SMMMMUUUUUUTTTT: unprotected sex (If you ain’t on BC or trust your partner, wrap it before you tap it kiddies!), spanking, choking, tease/orgasm denial/edging? I think that covers the biggies?

SEE ‘ANIMALS’ INTRODUCTION FOR DISCLAIMERS!

LAST WARNING ~~~> THIS PART FINISHES THE SMUT. UNDER 18 YEARS OF AGE? TURN THE FUCK BACK NOW.

TAG SQUAD - MOUNT UP!

@evilangel84 @gold--gucciempress @thedevilnisworld @bigpixiefoot @theneverendingthirst @kingslayers-queen @princess3733 @tacoshu @queenofthearchitect @i-am-beyoutiful @scuzmunkie

LAST TIME ON ‘ANIMALS’: Humming, feeling at peace for the first time all night, he ran a hand up and down her spine. “I didn’t mean to use you up so badly. I’m so sorry.” Roman was a little remorseful – just a little until she giggled and turned her head into his neck.

“Don’t be. A night like this has been long over due for me.”

He couldn’t help but to smile. “I suppose that’s true. But it’s not over yet.” He rolled her gently off of his chest and into his side. “Rest now, babygirl. I’ll stay until you drift off. Which,” He laughed as she yawned, “I don’t suppose will be long at all.”

She giggled sleepily, shaking her head as she felt sleep overtaking her. The final thoughts in her head were of the remaining Alpha – the ginger with the beastly eyes – and what awaited her with him.

**************** After watching her fall asleep and staying put for a little while entranced by the Omega tucked next him, Roman sighed and got up from the bed. He couldn’t help the self-satisfied grin that graced his face watching her curl up into the spot where he laid previously. Finding his sweatpants, he slid them on and made his was out to the balcony, chuckling at the grimaces that were plastered on the other Alpha’s faces.

“What?” Roman stretched and sat down on the lounge chair.

“Ain’t even gonna shower bud?” Dean cocked an eyebrow at him, swallowing hard when the wind wafted the combined scent combination of Roman’s claiming of the now blissfully unaware Omega.

Roman threw his head back and laughed heartily. “Hell. No. Not ready to let go of this scent yet.” Dean shrugged, unable to deny Roman’s strange sense of logic.

Seth snorted, “I don’t blame ya, man. Not one bit.” The trio then lapsed into a silence that for Dean grew more and more uncomfortable as the minutes ticked by – which felt like an eternity with as much as his whole being buzzed with the insanity he was holding back when it was maybe two or three hours.

Dean grunted. “Fuck this. I’ma go wait on her to wake up.” Dean stalked inside leaving a bewildered duo on the balcony. He slipped his way into Roman’s room, heart nearly jumping out of his chest at the sight of their Omega sleeping. Taking a steadying breath, he bent down to scoop Amber up. He was successful until he made his way towards the door to his room – where he slammed his elbow into the doorframe.

“Fuck!” Dean hissed thinking that whoever called it ‘the funny bone’ was a sick twisted bastard. Unfortunately for him, this caused the sleeping Omega to stir.

“Dean?” Amber asked mid-yawn, blinking several times to try and clear her vision.

Dean let go of the breath that he didn’t realize he was holding as he made his way for the master bathroom of the suite. “Sorry, doll. I’m – uh – not exactly graceful.” He shot her a look of ‘I’m sorry’ and was rewarded with a giggle.

“I get it.” She patted him on the shoulder lightly. “I’m a hardcore klutz myself.” As he neared the garden tub, he sat her down on the edge. “What…?” She arched a raven eyebrow at him. He smiled, a weird mix of softness and a predator all at once, “I figured a bath might help…” He leaned in, burying his face in her neck as he turned on the water. He inhaled deep, “God the images flashing through my mind right now….”

“Tell me?” Amber spoke right against his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. Growling, he stood up and jerked his shirt over his head.

“How about I show you, little Omega?” He lowered his hand to his belt, only for it to be batted away by Amber’s hand as she slid to the floor. “Oh, Omega have something in mind?” Amber bummed, blinking up at him in a faux-innocent way.

“You could say that…” She cupped his already hard as a rock dick through his jeans, earning a sharp hiss.

“Don’t tease me doll. It’s all yours.” Dean stared down at her, eyes hard as steel and hot as lava. Amber quickly undid his belt and zipper, tugging at his jeans and boxers. As soon as they were down around his ankles, he quickly shook them loose along with his boots and licked his lips as he watched the Omega before him wrap her hand around his cock. Amber gave the head a tentative lick before she wrapped her lips around it, sucking hard as she stroked the rest of him.

“Fuck, doll.” His hand went to the back of her head, pushing lightly down – giving her the hint of ‘more, need more’. She batted her eyes at him teasingly as she slowly took the rest of him into her mouth as far as she could go. “Teasing little wench.” He groaned lowly as he felt her free hand cup his balls and knew it wouldn’t be long before he lost his mind. Jerking her off his dick, he closed his eyes doing his best to focus.

“Awww….” “Bend over, hands on the tub.”

The confusion was evident on her face. “What….?”

“Do it, Omega.” He gritted out between his clenched teeth. Amber slowly did as she was told and yelped as his hand landed on her ass – hard enough to sting but not truly be painful. “Omega needs to be punished for teasing me so deliciously. “ Another smack and he couldn’t help but to notice how she started to pant. “Oh?” Smack. “Does my Omega like it a little rough?” Smack. Amber moaned quietly. “Answer. Your. Alpha.” Each word was punctuated with another smack.

“Zoohmygod Alpha. Yes. A little rough.” Amber gasped out, surprised at her own response. Dean rubbed his hand on soothingly on the reddened skin, leaning down to nip at her back.

“Ass on the edge of the tub. I think the honesty earns a little reward.” Dean eyeballed the tub, figuring it was almost the right level. Amber turned slowly and gingerly sat down, hissing at the cool porcelain on her tender posterior. Dean knelt in front of her, cupping her face and bringing it his. Lips met lips in a hungry kiss as his free hand slipped between her legs and lightly teased her already swollen flesh. Amber jumped at the contact but managed to fight the instinct to close her legs. “Tender doll?” Dean whispered as he kissed his way down her neck, making his destination evident. Amber whimpered. “Well, let me help with that…” His hungry mouth was soon on her core devouring it like a man possessed.

“Dean!” Amber gasped as his expert tongue went to work teasing her clit as his fingers pumped in and out at a near alarming rate. She soon felt the heat beginning to coil her stomach, moaning and gasping for breath. All too soon he pulled back, licking his lips.

“Damn doll you not only smell like heaven but taste of it too. I’ll have to do that again sometime. But for now…” He leaned up and stepped into the tub, pulling her with him, her back to his chest as he leaned against the back edge of the tub. His hands cupped her breasts, squeezing and massaging them. “You’re mine. All mine. I don’t give two shits about the claim the others have. I’m your leader. Your primary. Is that understood?”

Amber threw her head back on his shoulder. “Yes, Alpha. You’re primary. Absolutely. Take me. Claim me. Please. I –“

= But don't deny the animal, That comes alive when I'm inside you…=

Dean bit down on the back of her neck lightly. “You want it, you got it!” He reached between her legs, shifting her legs to where hers were on top of his and guided himself inside of her. Amber hissed as he groaned long and low. “Gods Omega. I’m tired of being alone.” He started moving slowly until she said something that broke everything inside of him.

“You’re not alone. Not anymore, Alpha.” Grunting, he lifted her leg up with hand as the other wrapped around her waist.

“Fuck!” He started an almost vicious pace. “You’re fucking perfect. You’re fucking mine. Do you hear me Omega? I’m never letting go of you. Fuck. So hot. So tight somehow - how are you this fucking tight?” Dean was absolutely lost in the feel of her and the fact that even though she’d been so thoroughly used through the night she was so tight around his cock.

“Al-al-alpha! Fuck! Like that!” Amber moaned, gripping the edges of the tub with everything she had. Suddenly, his hand was on her throat applying a moderate amount of pressure causing her walls to start fluttering at a maddening pace.

“Did the others make you feel like this? Huh? Did they unlock these things like your Alpha did?” Dean growled in her ears as his hand that was supporting her leg reached down to rub her clit. Amber’s eyes watered, as she shook her head ‘no’ furiously. “Good! Fucking good!” His fingers on her clit became harsh as he was barely holding back his release. Hell be damned if she didn’t get off first. “Cum for me! Cum for me doll! Your Alpha fucking demands it! God your pussy is crushing me so damn good! Cum for me! Come on!” One last harsh press of her clit sent her flying over the edge in such an intense manner but the nail in the coffin was when Dean roared his own release as he bit into the back of her neck – placing the final mark on her. Amber found herself blacking out as he released her throat, collapsing against him.

“De…dean…..” Amber’s speech slurred as she slipped further away. His grip on her tightened as he released the bite, sealing it like the others before him. Dean kissed her on the temple.

“It’s okay, doll. I got you.” With those words, Amber’s world went black as exhaustion overtook her. Scooping her up bridal style, Dean kicked the drain open and stepped out of the tub, stumbling to the bed. Jerking her back to his chest and doing his best to catch his breath, he could only marvel at the woman next to him.

“I always got you now, don’t I?” Dean whispered, content to just stay that way until she woke up.

And what a new day it would be for all of them.

= Baby, I'm preying on you tonight/ Hunt you down, eat you alive/ Just like animals, animals, like animals-mals/ Maybe you think that you can hide/ I can smell your scent from miles/ Just like animals, animals, like animals-mals = ***************

#wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwe au #paranormal #paranormal au #fanfiction #alpha/omega #alpha/omega au #the shield #the shield x oc #animals #maroon 5 #the songfic universe #nerdlife writes

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sapphicscholar · 6 years

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November 2024

“And CNN can now project that former Governor Catherine Grant will become the President Elect of the United States. By our estimates, she now has more than enough votes to become the 47th president, the country’s second female president, and the first out LGBTQ president. Folks, this is a historic moment.”

The rest of the commentator’s words were drowned out in a roar of cheering as Cat strode out on stage in front of a room packed full of her supporters. Miniature American flags waved in outstretched hands. Red, white, and blue balloons bobbed through the air above them and fell, scattering across the stage. And rainbow confetti—the one “fun” choice Cat had allowed Kara—floated down from the ceiling. Cat kept one hand on Carter’s arm, her other hand clutched in Kara’s, her fingers trembling slightly, still not quite sure whether she could believe the results. After all, it had only been four years ago when she had walked out on stage to give a rather different speech after a long night of contested results and too-close-to-call-it-yet moments that finally ended after 4 in the morning with a slightly uncertain calling of the election for General Lane.

“It’s real,” Kara murmured, and Cat squeezed her hand just a little harder at the reminder that Kara had always been the one to know exactly what she needed to hear. With a quick peck for Kara and a tight hug for Carter, Cat strode forward to the podium, waving at the crowds and calling out her thanks until the tumultuous applause finally died down. She smiled as it quieted, adjusting the microphone and glancing down at the speech she had prepared, hoping but not quite believing she would have reason for it this time.

“Thank you!” Cat shook her head the slightest amount, still wondering if perhaps it was all some dream she would wake up from, finding the election night still to come. “Thank you all for your support and your donations and your hours and hours of tireless campaigning. And now—now we’re here.”

Kara threw an arm around Carter’s shoulders as they watched and listened from the wings, cheering and laughing and clapping at the lines they had listened to Cat practice the night before. “She’s pretty great, huh?” Kara whispered, earning a low chuckle from Carter.

“Think I can get off work tomorrow since my mom’s president and all?”

Kara shrugged her shoulders. “I’m calling off work tomorrow with a case of First-Lady-itis.”

With a snort, Carter shook his head. “You’re the boss. Of course you can call out.”

Not that Kara took off many days. Or any days, really. After the last campaign ended, she had turned down several offers to return to the Senate as a chief of staff or to manage another campaign. The work with Cat had been enjoyable and meaningful, but after watching and living through the dirty smear campaigns and invasive personal attacks, Kara decided she needed to step back and return to the kind of work that had inspired her to turn to politics in the first place. After a year as a senior researcher at one of DC’s progressive think tanks, Kara had applied for grants and gotten seed money from L-Corp’s philanthropic arm to found an NGO dedicated to advancing alien rights and promoting interspecies dialogue—something she saw an increasingly urgent need for in the face of the Lane administration’s attempts to roll back protective measures like the Alien Amnesty Act. But now the country seemed ready to arc back toward justice, and Kara knew, no matter how late they were out that night, she would head into the office for at least an hour or two the next day to be sure they had put out a statement about Cat’s victory.

By the time Cat finished with the speech and started working her way through seemingly countless interviews with the press, most people finally headed home, leaving the large venue quiet after a night of nervous chatter and raucous applause. At a certain point, Carter snuck in for a hug and yet another congratulations while Cat was between interviews, excusing himself to get a nap in before he had to fly back to the West coast.

James likewise caught an early flight back to California after Cat sent him off with a teasing admonishment to “keep my legacy alive, Jimmy.” Even with assurances that he had CatCo’s best reporters on it and had vetted the proofs of the front page himself, James still ended up heading back out, sighing about how the work of a CEO was never done.

Around the time the sun was beginning to rise, bathing the city in a soft pink light, Kara found a very drunk Alex and an only marginally more sober Maggie making out behind the bar and celebrating the return of a liberal to the White House. After taking a few photos for posterity’s sake, Kara shuffled them outside and instructed two of the hired security guards to take them back to their house, leaving them both with stern reminders to drink plenty of water.

“Can you take us to Shake Shack?” Alex slurred as she flopped into the back seat behind Maggie. “They got great fries. Maggie likes fries. Didja know that? Veg’tarians can have fries at burger places.”

“We’ll get you fries at some point today,” Kara promised as she shut the door behind Alex, rolling her eyes as Maggie dropped her head into Alex’s lap, already half asleep.

While Kara waited for Cat to finish her final interviews, she scrolled through her texts and emails, smiling at all the happy messages waiting for her from Eliza, who promised that she had been watching live from the Grant campaign headquarters in California, and Winn, who included several photos of Americans following the coverage in Germany with the caption: “SO PROUD OF YOU!! Time to go: they’re buying shots. Gonna be so hungover for day 3 of the conference…”

Kara’s phone rang with a call from Lucy and Vasquez as Cat sat down with the last of the interviews that Jasmine had arranged. With a little wave to Cat, Kara gestured at her phone and the back corner of the room before wandering away from the cameras to take it. As she slid her finger across the screen, she couldn’t help the excited squeal. “Good news?”

“Double good news!” Vasquez cheered. “Don’t think we didn’t watch the coverage just because we couldn’t be there in person.”

“Little asshole had to choose the most inconvenient time to arrive,” Lucy grumbled in the background, earning a loud bark of laughter from Vasquez.

“Don’t mind her. She’s still a little grumpy from the 18 hours of labor.”

“‘A little grumpy?’” Kara had to hold the phone away from her face as Lucy yelled. “You try shoving a 7-pound lump out of your—”

“Congratulations!” Kara cut in.

“Thank you!” they both called back, and Kara had to chuckle at the dramatic shift in tone.

“Got a name?”

“Nope.”

“He’s baby X for now.”

“And he’s really fucking cute.”

“Okay, well, he’s kinda weird-looking, but they promise that he’ll be looking a little less alien in a couple of days. No offense, Kara.”

“None taken. I guess.”

“He’s so little. Did you know how little they are?”

“But he’s got, like, these itty-bitty fingernails and everything. Like…he’s a full human, only miniature.”

“But with big blue eyes. I don’t think they’ll stay blue, but they’re beautiful for now.”

“And so much hair. I kinda hope it falls out…might be nice to start again without a big shaggy mop of it.”

“They said it would.”

Kara snorted at the back-and-forth, wondering how long the two of them had been awake at that point. “I think Cat’s wrapping up, so I should probably go, but congratulations again!”

“Congrats to Cat too!” Vasquez cheered.

“Yes! About damn time.”

“Hopefully we’ll make it out to see the baby in the next couple of days, if you don’t mind a big team of security stalking out the perimeter of your house.”

“Go for it. And you know, if they want to take out the trash or pick up some diapers while they’re at it, I hear we’re gonna want all the extra help we can get.”

“Well I’m sure baby X’s godmothers will be more than happy to babysit once they’ve recovered from their collective hangover from hell,” Kara snickered.

“That bad?”

“Oh, I took pictures. Don’t worry.”

Lucy let out a little hum. “Can always count on you for that.”

“I think I might save these ones for the next big birthday party, though…” Kara grinned at the thought of the sheer number of humiliating photos she had saved up for that moment. “Anyway, I’ll let you go, but have a safe trip home from the hospital and give baby X a kiss for me okay?”

“Of course!”

Once Kara hung up, she ambled back over to where Cat was gathering her things and stretching after too many hours spent standing in heels. Throwing Cat’s bag over her shoulder, Kara extended her free hand. “Can I take you home, President Grant?”

“Please.”

December 2024

“God, accounting for a security detail for the president-elect is such a pain in the ass,” Alex grumbled as she pulled out the pegs of the seating chart for what felt like the hundredth time.

Maggie laughed as she wrapped her arms around Alex’s waist and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Still better than accounting for the security detail of the actual president, isn’t it?”

“Oh yes, because bumping up the timeline for the wedding by four months was so much easier.”

“You’re the one who insisted on having Kara as your maid of honor, and you can’t just not invite her wife.”

“We should have gotten married before them.”

“Please, you had so much fun giving Kara shit for U-Hauling with Cat after only a year. You wouldn’t have given that up for a slightly easier go of it ourselves.”

Alex let out a long sigh. “Maybe not.” After a moment she added, “But I still think Kara should be doing some of this work.”

“Well then tell her so over dinner.”

“Oh yeah, let’s think about how that’ll go. Hey, Kara? Be a dear. In between running an organization and preparing to move into the White House and making decisions about the inauguration and the ball, could you also figure out this seating chart?”

“You forgot to add in that we could really use the extra time for ourselves since your fiancée is kind of irresistible.”

“Mm yes. That too.” Alex’s eyes fluttered shut as Maggie kissed her softly, their hands twining together.

A knock at the door interrupted them. “Coming,” Alex called out, squeezing Maggie’s hand one last time before making her way over to the front door. She swung it open to reveal Lucy and Vasquez, both of them looking a little worn for wear. Lucy had a diaper bag slung over her shoulder, and Vasquez held an infant carseat in one hand, a bottle of wine in the other.

“Hey! Come in, come in, it’s so good to see you.”

They followed Alex inside, waving at Maggie as she rounded the corner. As Vasquez set the carseat on the ground, Lucy grimaced at the sound of a little whimper.

Alex leaned forward, unbuckling the straps and lifting the baby up, settling him into the crook of her elbow as she cooed at him. “Oh, come here, little Alex. Your godmother’s got you.”

Lucy pursed her lips and glared. “It’s A.J.”

“Mm, but I believe one of those names could be shorted to Alex. And really, I’m still so flattered that you named your son after me.”

Vasquez’s lips twitched as Lucy groaned. “It was a family name.”

“Say whatever you want to, Luce, but me and little Alex are always gonna know the truth.”

Lucy raised her eyebrows at Maggie. “She’s insufferable, you know that, right?”

“Considering we’re getting married in a couple weeks, I think I know that by now.” Maggie raised herself up to her tip-toes to kiss away the crinkle in Alex’s forehead. “But I love you more than anything.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky I’m holding a baby.”

“And you’re welcome to borrow him anytime you want.”

Vasquez shook her head. “She says that now, but she’s secretly a big softie with him at home.”

Before Lucy could respond, the sound of several SUVs pulling up drew their attention outside. “Cat’s here!” Alex called out. “Maggie, can you deal with the security team?”

Eventually Cat and Kara made it inside, and after a round of passing A.J. around to everyone, Lucy got him to fall asleep in his carseat in time for dinner. When she got back, Vasquez patted the seat next to her, throwing her arm around Lucy’s shoulders and kissing her temple.

Alex raised her glass in the air. “A toast to little Alex!”

“Also known as A.J.,” Maggie chimed in, winking at Vasquez across the table as they clinked their glasses.

“And to the soon-to-be-married couple for hosting us tonight,” Cat added, earning another round of clinking glasses.

“And, excuse me, let’s not fucking forget,” Lucy cut in, “to the next President of the United States of America.”

“Cheers!” the table chorused.

“Here’s to an overdue victory!”

“And eight long years in the White House!”

#supercat #sanvers #political au #fluff #completed fic #fanfic #supergirl #kara danvers #cat grant #alex danvers #maggie sawyer #lucy lane #susan vasquez #supercat sanvers 2020 #ao3feed

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