#i did not realize how wrinkly my sheet was until this day

[heartsfortwotpot]

on my telly......

#Caught blawg on the phone so i painted em 😹 💯 Who got them smiling like that doe... 🤔 🔥 ⁉️ #two tpot #tpot #bfb #bfdi #xfohv #osc #my art #eleanors ancient sea #mine #i did not realize how wrinkly my sheet was until this day

[sukirichi]

the morning after – gojo satoru ver!

warnings: slight dirty talk and suggestive content, like the yuuji one, nothing too explicit! Oh and a teasing, cheeky gojo :>

masterlist ! (photo not mine)

It doesn’t hit you until you’re whacked by an arm in the face. Literally.

You whine and push the foreign weight away that smushed your nose at the impact, less than pleased because you’re having the best of your life, but someone had to ruin it. Nevertheless, you refuse to open your eyes and settle into the warmth that encases you in that moment. It reminds you of your precious unicorn plushie you left back at your apartment; cuddly, precious, keeps the nightmares away, but the best part about this human teddy bear is that he’s all firm muscles and body heat instead of fur cotton.

Wait, what? Human?

It’s when you hear the man stirring above you with a husky groan that you freeze in your spot, eyes snapping wide open your vision blurs for a split second. The first thing you see is smooth skin and firm pecs, followed by a slender, strong neck and a sharp jawline – oh god.

So last night wasn’t a dream.

Clenching your teeth and even biting the inside of your cheeks to stop squealing – more out of embarrassment and shame than happiness, really – you slowly reach up between your squished bodies to pinch your cheeks, bringing blood and feeling back into them. No wonder you’ve slept so well last night, and as someone who prefers pulling an all-nighter until you pass out in the middle of an anime series, it’s quite rare to find a good eight hour sleep.

It’s not like you had much...activities performed that would take up too much energy. Until Gojo Satoru came, the teacher from the Tokyo school, and also the notoriously infamous “strongest jujutsu sorcerer.”

You’ve had a crush on him the moment you’ve started working as a teacher in the Kyoto school. Utahime, who was closer to him, was incredibly appalled when you told her one day about your raging crush on the white-haired man who looked absolutely breathtaking with his blindfold, but without them?

Just the thought of having seen them last night, when he was between your legs, no less, has you inwardly groaning and cringing so hard you feel so shameful that you can’t even look him in the eye. Satoru is fast asleep above you, one of his strong arms lazily draped over the curve of your waist and his fingers brushing against your bum. When you shift a little to give you both space, his fingers begin to hover dangerously close to a sensitive area and you let out a tiny squeak, muffling it with the back of your fist before he awakens.

This man had the Six Eyes – the last thing you wanted was for him to sense and notice the little things and wake up. No, you had to leave before he even gets the chance to move.

The chances of not waking him up was pretty slim, but you’ve always been proud of your sneaky movements that you try anyway. Fortunately, Satoru doesn’t seem to be a hardcore cuddler because he doesn’t pull you back when you finally slip past the sheets.

You freeze for a moment at the edge of the bed, still in disbelief that you actually slept with him. No, no, that’s wrong, you’d have slept with him anytime if he allowed it but – he actually slept with you. It’s not that you’re looking down on yourself because you’re also a special grade sorcerer and could stand your own ground confidently, but your powers when it comes to exorcising and your social skills are two different things that don’t even come close together.

You’re not worried that a special grade curse would kill you and take away your privilege of finishing that new manga you bought in your day off because you know you could handle it easily, but as a person, there’s a stark difference between you and Satoru.

True, he wasn’t exactly liked by everyone because he refused to be limited by rules and regulations, always claiming that one should not be hindered by the narrow-mindedness of the others, but it was something you really admired about him because you’re not like that. You’re old school, sticking by the book, much like his co-worker Nanami Kento who equally hates overtime, and while Gojo Satoru was loud and confident, you’re more of the person who stays by a corner during a party.

Which is exactly what happened last night at Utahime’s birthday party – aka the old wrinkly principal isn’t here so let’s get wasted type of party.

You’re not surprised that Gojo Satoru walked in, but when he did, you had to clutch your spirit water and drink it in haste because he’s got you feeling thirstier than you did last night – and you drink your water plenty. But how could you remain sane when he looked so gorgeous in just his uniform and his laughter has butterflies erupting in your stomach?

Truth was, you’re satisfied watching him from afar. It’s not like you ever plan on asking him out or being his friend because you’re sure Satoru has better things to do and prettier people to talk to, so when he sits next to you in the desolate leather couch, legs crossed over one another and his arm right behind you (although not touching, he respects your space) you nearly pass out.

One thing leads to another, and you find yourself writhing under his arms, shamelessly crying his name over and over again until the dead hours of the night that has his ego inflating.

You don’t remember how or exactly why it happened, but definitely, alcohol had to be involved. There’s no way Gojo Satoru would actually notice you, much less sleep with you, when he’s completely sober, which is why you scramble around the room with the blanket covering your bare body as you look for your discarded clothes.

If he wakes up and sees you, he’ll probably regret everything that happened last night, if he remembers any of it, anyway.

But you’re most definitely mostly sober through the whole thing, so you remember how good he was in making you feel like a goddess. The way he sucked on your neck, licking a stripe at your burning skin while his large hands groped your breasts possessively, all the while rutting in that perfect spot that has your eyes rolling at the back of your head with your nails running down his back – you shiver just thinking about it.

Gojo Satoru really has that effect on people.

You hide your flustered state and quickly pull on your undergarments, about to slip the sweater over your head, only to die on the inside because you realize you’re wearing those full cotton panties instead of sexy lingerie. With a groan, you fight back the urge to cry. But then again, who could blame yourself for not dressing sexily? It’s not like you had any idea that this would happen.

You’re halfway through your jeans when Gojo’s husky morning voice breaks through the silence. “Leaving already?” you hear him smile, although your back is turned to him, face completely morphed into terror. “Such a shame. I was actually thinking shower sex sounds nice – if you’re into that, of course.”

“Satoru,” you greet lamely with a bow, avoiding the way his stunning eyes raked over your form with an unreadable dark expression. “Uh, you’re awake, and...good morning, I guess.”

Gojo smirks at your flushed cheeks, and it takes everything not to stare at the way his biceps strain from the way he supports his head, hair sticking in every direction and looking absolutely sexy in the morning light. “Good morning to you too, Y/N,” your breath stifles, because he knows your name? “Although it would be an ever better morning if you weren’t such in a rush to leave,” he chuckles, “It makes me feel like maybe you regret what happened last night.”

Your head snaps up at his words as you shakily wiggle your arms, “No, that’s not true, I loved every second of it! It was...it was the best night of my life,” your cheeks tinge a shade darker when Gojo beams at your words, chest almost puffing out proudly. Shyly, you turn away from him and fiddle with the hem of your sweatshirt. “I just...I didn’t think you’d still want me here around, because you were drunk last night and all and I thought maybe you’ll regret it, which I don’t want to happen so yeah, I just thought I’d leave before I get to...” you clear your throat awkwardly, “...be rejected like that.”

“Y/N,” his voice falls an octave lower, the thoughts in your head growing so loud you don’t even hear that he’s already left the bed, and now he’s cradling your chin until you’re forced to witness the galaxies burning in his eyes. “You thought I was drunk last night and did it because I was just horny? That I would regret it and forget all about it?”

His proximity has your breath stuttering, your eyelashes slapping your cheeks as you blink rapidly. “Well, uhm, I’m not really your type, so I think it was safe to assume that.”

Gojo hums at your words, his calloused thumb running over your lips. A small smile flits across his face when he remembers how much of a good girl you were for him last night, obediently opening those lips up and letting him bask in the warmth of your wet cavern before swallowing all he has to give. Funnily enough, Gojo isn’t the best with his words, so he just tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before sighing.

“I wasn’t drunk,” he finally admits. The confession has you slipping from his grasp, but Gojo snakes his arm around the small of your back to pull you to him, the warmth of his bare skin seeping into your clothes. However, it’s nothing compared to the lust and adoration burning in his eyes – one you can’t properly fathom in this clouded state. “Tipsy, sure, but I assure you I was aware and sober for every little part,” his lips hover at your ear, one of his hands coming at the back of your neck to tilt your head to the side, granting him access to the hickeys he’d purposely left.

Just the sight of his markings on your perfect body has a tent growing in his pants. You feel his erection rub at the pad of your jeans, eliciting a small whine from you, and this makes Gojo resist the urge to bend you over right then and there. But he doesn’t do that, because he knows your body is too tired from his ministrations, and he’s nice enough to give you a break – even if that’s not exactly what your burning core wants at that moment.

“Like the way you clenched around my cock when I hit that sensitive spot of yours,” he laughs when you shiver at the way his breath tickles you, “Or how pretty you look when you cream around my cock, begging me to go harder because you can take it, and baby, I promise you, I loved it just as much as you did.”

Finally, Gojo pulls back, and he’s extremely satisfied when he sees how small and innocent you look just like that, as if he hadn’t just folded you in half to watch the way your pretty pussy welcome him and take him better than anyone else just hours ago.

“But,” he continues, “I think I enjoyed it a lot more, considering I’ve wanted to do that for such a long time now,” at his words, you furrow your brows, and that’s when he realizes his mistake. Gojo reverts back to his usual lighthearted self and fans his hand out almost comically with his hands on his hips. “I mean, not just the sex, though it is amazing, but having you close is what I meant. Like holding your hand or getting to kiss you,” he sighs dreamily as if you’re not in the same room as him.

“Uh,” you awkwardly begin, unsure of what to say. “Are you saying you like me?”

“Yeah,” he smirks, which shouldn’t have been such a sexy look on him, but because he’s Gojo, it was. “But Utahime said she’d cut my balls off if I even get near you. Thank goodness she was too drunk last night to ever see it, but I’m glad I talked to you. I’m just ashamed I’m only saying this after the sex but...would you like to go out with me?”

Thanks to his Six Eyes ability, Gojo is blessed with the privilege of seeing you malfunction before him as you try to find your words.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x reader imagines #gojo x reader smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader imagines #gojo satoru x reader imagines #gojo satoru imagines #jjk gojo satoru #gojo satoru fic #gojo x reader headcanon #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen smut

[twilightdruig]

sleeping with the ceo

pairing: george weasley x fem!reader

summary: one night stand before the first day of his new job and oops that was his new boss he was sleeping with.

warnings: ceo!reader , assistant!george , muggle!au , mentions of sex , one night stand , awkwardness , fwb

words: 1.8k

a/n: unedited!! i have a love hate relationship with this and i just wanted to say @wandsandwheezes , @chokemepansy , @rcwenaclaw , and @nancybycrs are such huge inspirations to me like their writing is amazing <33

y/n didn’t know how she got here. she remembers going out with her friends, having a few drinks and partying a bit.

now, she was tangled in unfamiliar sheets with an attractive man next to her. she examined him, he was lanky, had ginger hair and freckles littered his body.

she vaguely remembers him buying her a drink. she had this fuzzy memory of his hands roaming her body. she slightly remembered his name starting with a ‘g’.

he started fussing and moving around in his sleep. he slipped his hand back to her waist so she couldn’t try to escape. he let out a groan in her ear and tightened his arms around her.

she didn’t want to wake him up so she subtly tried to nudge his chest. they were both still very naked. none of them bothered to put anything on after last night.

she raked her brain to remember what his name was. was it glen? gabriel? george? george. it sounded familiar. george. george! that was his name. he looked like a george too.

“george” she whispered slowly “george!” she whispered again a little louder. “george” she said one last time with a nudge.

he jumped a little. his eyes were now open but still droopy. he attempted to go back to sleep but awoke once again when he realized there was a beautiful girl in his arms. a beautiful naked girl. that was also when he remembered he had a job interview today.

he shot up and quickly covered himself when he realized he was undressed. she quickly turned the other way as well.

“hey there! uh… y/n right?” he exclaimed frantically, panic evident in his eyes. fred and lee somehow convinced him to come with them and celebrate fred’s job offer. the three always celebrated together. when lee finished his internship, when they graduated, when they bought their first cars, etc.

“yeah, hi!” she greeted. this was the most awkward thing she’s ever experienced. she’s a ceo! she’s fired people, yelled at people and have been in way more embarrassing moments. this is gonna be fine.

“well — uhm, it’s the first day of my job and it’s kind of really important. you can stay if you want to, my brother can take care of it” he offered.

“oh! i also have work to attend to, actually” she declined.

“oh… well then. this,” he gestured in between them, “was great. really! i wish i could spend more time but this is huge”

“no, i totally understand” she smiled.

when he left to the bathroom, she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. she walked around the spacious bedroom and picked up her scattered clothes. she just had to get picked up and change in the office. she held her shoes by the heals, got dressed up in wrinkly, used clothes and exited the room to leave for work.

she squeaked when she found george (or who she thought it was) standing shirtless, and hair dripping in the kitchen. “hi darling, i’m fred” he winked.

“yes… hi, fred. george didn’t mention a twin, only a brother” she pursed her lips feeling slightly embarrassed.

“explains the frightened and confused look”

“yeah… is it alright if i leave? tell george i had a great time last night,” she said “even if i didn’t remember most of it” she whispered to herself.

“yeah, sure!” he took a sip of his beverage “should i tell the doorman to call a taxi for you?”

“that would be really great. thank you so much”

“it’s certainly no problem” he dialed the doorman and requested a taxi.

she ran out the door, catching a glimpse of fred smirking to himself.

george walked out his room all dressed up for work and very nervous.

“missed her mate”

“oh… well i might see her again who knows” ‘oh you certainly will’ fred thought

“tell me, was she a good shag?” fred teased

“yes, actually” george laughed

“reckon she looked quite familiar?” fred asked. he knew who she was and what george was getting himself into but decided to just leave it until george figured it out by himself.

“no. you know her?”

“not really, no. familiar though”

—

she waited outside for a taxi which brought her straight to her office building.

“y/n! where the hell have you been?!” liv, your stand in assistant whisper-yelled to y/n.

“i was out with friends late last night, okay? no big deal”

“it is a big deal! there are a few workers starting her today! including your assistant because i have another job and kids to also attend to.” she handed her a white folder with the logo on the front “this is the list of all the new employees who will visit your office for first day evaluation”

“… except your assistant who will be here shortly”

“i’m gonna need to get changed.” she muttered. boy was today gonna be busy.

she boarded the elevator which took her to the highest floor; her office.

when she arrived, she ran to her personal space, past her assistant desk and into the small walk-in closet. she looked like a downright mess and it wasn’t appropriate to see new employees looking like a slob.

she tried her best looking professional and clean. she didn’t want her employees to know she was out sleeping with a stranger the night before. she did not know what she was getting herself into.

a few minutes passed, she was seated in her desk going through emails and actual mail, checking her calendar and whatnot when she heard the elevator door open.

she looked up and was met with familiar ginger hair, brown eyes and freckles. “george?” “y/n!?” they yelled at the same time.

they saw each other this morning, naked, and tangled in each other’s arms. george didn’t know why he didn’t recognize her, and y/n didn’t know how this was possible ‘who goes out the night before their first day at their job?’.

“heyy,” y/n greeted awkwardly slow “george.”

she could hear a faint and unclear “i slept with my new boss last night” from george.

“and i slept with my new assistant last night as well” she continued, testing the waters. in the amount of times y/n has hired people, this has never happened.

george gave her a tight-lipped smile. now it made sense what fred said this morning. she was of course familiar. the oh so rich ceo of the company he now works at. y/n l/n, multi-millionaire.

“listen, george. if you don’t want to work as my assistant, i can transfer you to one of my managers” she offered. she took his feelings into account, maybe he regret last night, he might be the office slut or whatever was going through his head.

“no! no, y/n. that’s ridiculous. i would love to work for you”

—

weeks turned into months and the two working together went smoothly. he answered her calls, made reservations and bought coffee. they worked like friends, equals. not like one was working for the other.

george especially appreciated the scented candle y/n got him the very next day after the awkward exchange.

y/n would even call him into her office for a quickie almost a year into him working there. it became a regular thing. either her hands down his trousers or her bent over her own desk.

today was different though. george was jittery and nervous. y/n was the least busy she’s ever been. she’d ask what her schedule was every half hour.

he slipped a little something in her calendar tonight, though. 8pm dinner at italiano’s with george. it was kind of a way of asking her out? he thought it was smart.

“georgie, what else is on my schedule today?” she called from her desk while playing with her pen.

“well, sweetheart,” they called each other nicknames and petnames when no one was around “you have a meeting with alicia by 4:30, selene is stopping by for drinks by 5:15 and you have dinner with me at 8”

she registered the meetings into her mind then along came dinner with her assistant with benefits.

“is this your way of asking me out, georgie?” she teased.

“oh, you see right through me huh”

“of course i do,” she poked his sides “literally an hour before your first day i was tangled in your sheets. i think we’ve got quite the bond”

—

after all her meetings and meet ups, it was finally the time for her to go home, or in today’s case, have dinner with george.

they went to a dainty little italian restaurant who served the best pasta she’s ever had (well that’s what she told george). it was quiet especially for a sunday night.

george was sitting across from her as they waited for the food. he started with a little small talk like the weather and the environment. he then talked about the situations at work and other people who worked with them. this felt natural to them. just two friends (or more) talking comfortably in a romantic italian restaurant.

“we had sex the first time today, a year ago” george interjected.

“you really have a way with words, weasley. but really?” y/n asked with wide, surprised eyes. george nodded. “wow! a year ago. that seems like so long”

“it does”

their food was served and they went back to office talk. they also reminisced on how awkward they were. my, my. how much they’ve grown.

“you know, y/n.” he reached to hold her hand “me and fred had this huge idea” he started.

“you know how i told you about those times in high school and college where me, fred and our best friend lee would prank people and joke around?”

“of course”

“we’re opening a shop! we have enough money for it now!” he exclaimed.

“george!” she arose from her seat and gave him a big hug “i am so extremely proud of you”. she knew he was passionate about that. she knew about his mom not supporting him and his brother snd wanting them to take a political or medical job.

george felt like he was gonna tear up. this woman us amazing. she supports him about everything he’s passionate about, she makes sure he’s comfortable and she makes him happy. y/n was all he could ever ask for.

“y/n.” george uttered in her ear, finally gaining the confidence to tell her “i have another thing to tell you.”

“yeah, go ahead georgie” she held his face with her hands.

“i — i am so completely utterly drop dead in love with you” he whispered with a small smile “and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, i just wan-“

she cut him off short by pressing her lips against his, forcefully. it took george a few milliseconds to register what was happening until her kissed her back.

she moved her hands to get tangled with the hair on the nape of his neck while his hands were on her waist. they were smiling in their kiss.

when they pulled back they pushed their heads together. “so… did that mean you love me back or..?”

she kissed him again and again on his cheeks and nose. “yes. it means i love you back. and i don’t care what anyone says.”

george paid for tonight’s dinner for a change and they went back to y/n’s enormous flat and one thing lead to another…

#harry potter #george weasley x reader #george weasley #hogwarts #george weasley imagine #george weasley x fem #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you

[anatomical-hearts]

Din Djarin x sick!gnReader

Summary: getting sick and trying to hide it from a Mandalorian is not an easy task

Warnings: mentions of illness, description of symptoms (coughing, fever, shortness of breath, chills, etc.), y e a r n i n g

Word Count: 1.4k

A/n: My first ever fic!! I was thinking about how our favorite Mando would respond to his shipmate getting sick and that sparked my idea for this reader insert, enjoy!!

Hot. Everything was unbearably hot as sweat trailed down your neck, breath hitching. Groggily, you wonder if this is what hell feels like as a shiver takes over your exhausted body.

Things had been just fine as the Razor Crest took off after a surprisingly quiet mission, but of course, something had to go wrong. The kid must’ve picked up a virus from the planet because for many long, gruelling days he’d been sick as a corellian hound.

You blamed your current situation on the lack of sleep that had no doubt weakened your usually impeccable immune system. The child was fussy, crying for hours until you or Mando could finally lull him into a fitful sleep. There was nothing either of you could do but wait to see if the sickness would pass, and thank the maker, it eventually did. Unfortunately, he seems to have passed it onto you, leaving you violently shaking, covered in a sheen of sweat, and completely miserable.

The door to your cramped quarters slid open, momentarily pulling you out of your self-pity, and you cringed at the light spilling into the previously dark space. Before you could curl into yourself even more, a small huff and a touch on your leg seemingly demanded your attention. Lifting your pounding head from your cot, you softened when you saw two large eyes staring back at you, a concerned expression adorning a wrinkly green face.

“Hey kid... did you come to check on me?”

Your voice was weak, cracking as you struggled to speak, but the kid’s ears perked up when you addressed him. He immediately waddled over to your face, little arms outstretched, and cooed softly as he gently laid his hand on your feverish forehead. The exhaustion you had previously felt came back full force, but before you could fall asleep under the kid’s watchful gaze, you heard footsteps coming down the ladder from the cockpit. Kriff. Mando had enough on his shoulders at any given time, another sick shipmate was the last thing he needed right now.

Hastily pushing yourself upright, you put on what you hoped was your best “everything is completely fine” face before Mando’s beskar-covered form filled the small doorway. His helmet tilted slightly to the side as he took in your sickly presence and you couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably under his gaze. If he didn’t know you were sick already, he certainly knew now. Might as well rip this bandage off as quickly and painlessly as possible.

Unfortunately for you, nothing had gone your way on this maker-forsaken day and even the simplest of tasks were complicated by the fact that your body was waging a personal war against the virus currently in your system. Taking a shaky breath before attempting to speak, your breath caught in your throat, sending you spiraling into a hacking fit. Eyes watering, your body curled in on itself with the force of your coughing as you gasped for air in between breaths.

Vaguely, you could feel a weight being lifted from your cot and footsteps retreating back into the hull. Well, at least your shipmates would be spared the gruesome image of you dying from choking on your own spit. The thought was almost enough to make you laugh as your chest heaved in a feeble attempt to provide your body with air. It made sense that Mando wouldn’t want anything to do with you in this state, not to mention that he especially wouldn’t want the kid to get sick again; so when a bleary form seemed to materialize in front of you, you thought it must be a fever dream tormenting your weary soul.

Blinking your through bleary eyes, the first thing you saw was a cup with water directly in front of your face. It was... floating? No. There is a hand holding it... a gloved hand. A gloved hand attached to an armored man. With a small gasp, you realized that Mando had come back, sat on the edge of your cot, and was offering you a cup of water. All you could do was stare at the bounty hunter. This was a skilled man who you had seen take down bounties mercilessly without breaking a sweat, yet here he was, sitting awkwardly next to you and offering sweet relief.

It hit you all at once how parched you were and you eagerly snatched the water from his hand, gulping it down so quickly that you felt some of it drip down your chin and onto the already damp sheets. Taking the first unlabored breath you had in hours, Mando slowly grabbed the cup from your trembling hands and set the cup down on your small bedside table.

“Thank you...” you mumbled, unsuccessfully trying to avoid squirming under the Mandalorian’s unwavering gaze. His dark t-visor hadn’t left your face since you first noticed his presence. Maker, you must be a sight. Flushing you turn your face away from the heat of his gaze, trying to think of anything else to say to the stoic figure in front of you.

“I’ll uh-” dank farrik, you hated the way your voice cracked “I’ll get up and see if I can... um” kriff, what was it Mando hired you for again? The answer was right there in front of you but you just couldn’t wrap your fingers around it. Before you could embarrass yourself further with your mumbling confusions, Mando tentatively reached out his hand, his glove hovering over your shoulder. He was still looking at you. Maker, it was hot in here, had it always been this hot?

He was still as a statue in front of you, waiting... waiting for something. A cue from you, you realized as you stared at his hand. Slowly you dragged your gaze back to where you assumed his eyes were behind the visor and gave him a slow nod. Lightly, so gently you could cry at how he treated you with such tenderness in this moment, his gloved hand rested on your shoulder. The slight touch sent shockwaves through your system as an uncharacteristically soft modulated voice broke the silence.

“You don’t have to get up or do anything today just...” his fingers twitched ever so slightly “Just rest cyar’ika.”

He applied the smallest bit of pressure to your shoulder and you felt yourself laying back down into the softness of your cot. Exhaustion overtook your body as you lay there, struggling to comprehend the events taking place. You wanted to argue with him. You wanted to insist that you were fine, that he didn’t have to handle the kid by himself, that you could still do something. You wanted to ask him what that strange word he said at the end of his sentence meant, he said it with such… care. However, the hand on your shoulder didn’t leave as you finally felt your body relax into the sheets underneath you.

It was finally registering just how much you needed this, just a day to allow your body to heal. With your last bit of strength you nodded once and let your eyes flutter closed. Only then did his comforting hand leave you, but even then it seemed that he lingered just a moment longer than necessary... then again, it may have been the fever making you sense things that weren’t actually there.

You heard his retreating footsteps as he walked towards the door and closed it softly, sleep claiming you the moment he was gone. With your last bit of strength, you will yourself to remember this moment, to cling to it with every last fiber of your being until you’re sure that the Mandalorian’s soft voice and light touch would be ingrained in your memory forever.

Outside of your cot, the Mandalorian stood in the middle of the hull, staring at the hand that had been on your shoulder just moments before. Even through his glove, Din could feel the warmth radiating from your shoulder, imagine how soft your skin might feel beneath his bare hand. Before he could get lost in the aching feeling enveloping his chest, soft cooing from the cockpit brought him back to reality. With one last glance at your closed door, the Mandalorian slowly made his way up to the kid, his mind never straying from you and the way you had unknowingly held his gaze behind the visor.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #sick fic #totally self indulgent #the mandalorian #din djarin #fanfic #anatomical writes

[doiedreams]

A Cozy Christmas Eve // w.lc

Brought to you by the Walking in a Winter Wonderland collaboration hosted by @suh-insane and @neocitybynight

◈⇢ Synopsis: With only a very limited amount of time, you and bf!Lucas prepare to have your parents over for a Christmas Eve visit, but after all the stress, the day ends in a cozy evening of Christmas movies, hot cocoa, and cuddles

◈⇢ Prompt: “Put that cookie down. NOW!”

◈⇢ Genre: fluff ద

◈⇢ Pairing: reader x bf!lucas

◈⇢ Wc: 2.3k

◈⇢ Warnings: none

Lucas’s full attention is captured by the wintry white snowscape in his view. Bright-eyed and mouth agape, Lucas calls out to you. “Woah… Y/n, come look! It snowed so much last night.”

The excitement in his voice lures you out of your room, toothbrush still between your lips, as you see Lucas with his hands and nose pressed up against the cold glass of the window. You giggle seeing how his actions reflect that of an amazed child seeing snow for the first time. When you approach him, you tap his shoulder, silently requesting that he move out of the way. The moment you step in front of the window, the bright white view blinds you. Considering you woke up not too long ago, the radiance was harsh on your eyes, causing you to squint momentarily before fully being able to take in the view.

The pretty sight incites a muffled gasp from you. Blankets upon blankets of snow cover the ground, presenting little to no color contrast between it, and the grey wintery sky. The rooftops of the houses across from your home are also coated with snow, while their perimeters are draped with thin icicles varying in size. Color can only be found on the holiday decorations scattering the lawns of your neighbors’ homes or the occasional evergreen shrubs nearby. Besides that, it is a white winter indeed.

“It’s so pretty,” you say after taking your toothbrush out. “Okay, we have a long day ahead of us so let me finish getting ready and we can start cleaning up, alright?” 

Lucas turns from the window to face you and says, “but it’s already clean.”

“Clean? Lucas, it’s so messy in here. Look around.”

He faces the room, not too disheveled, but surely not in its tidiest state. Magazines of holiday decor and Christmas meal recipes almost covered the entire glass coffee table. Some opened pages had brown ring stains on the wrinkly paper where a couple of hot cocoa mugs, now empty, had sat the night prior. Half of the throw blanket rests on the ground while the other half is slowly slipping off of the couch. Needless to say, it was a bit of a mess.

Turning back to you, he says, “We can clean this up easily. It'll take us… like, 20 minutes?”

Your eyes widened, wondering what makes him think the two of you could fully prepare your house for your parents’ visit in such a short amount of time. “That’s just impossible. There's a lot more to do than to tidy up this room. Plus, anytime I tell you we have to clean you get distracted in about five minutes and leave all the dirty work to me.”

“Do I?” Lucas asks as if this is something he's never noticed. 

“You do, but not this time. It's gonna be a team effort and we're gonna get it done as soon as we can, alright?” 

Lucas crosses his arms and lifts his chin as though he’s already completed the tasks he's meant to finish. “I’m at your service, m’lady. Where do you want me?”

Laughing at his newfound determination, you tell him, “Well, how about you start by clearing off that table while I finish getting ready.”

While still in his triumphant stance, he gives you a forceful nod before he goes to the table and picks up the empty mugs to place on the sink, and gets started with cleaning. Although you suspect his focus will only last for a little while, you appreciate the effort he’s putting in now. And hopefully, by the time you come back, some progress would be made.

“Ta-da!”

Upon entering the room, you’re met with a completely different atmosphere than before. The coffee table was no longer cluttered with papers and mugs, the sofa’s decorative pillows were placed comfortably at its corners, and Lucas even managed to turn on the fireplace which hadn’t worked in months. If you were to add a few more decorations, the room could’ve been featured in one of the holiday decor magazines he had set aside.

“Lucas- You did all of this?” you asked, gaping at the cleanliness of the room. 

He breaks out of his jazz hands and nods. “Yes. I did.” The accomplished grin on his face made it clear that he was proud of his work.

“I’m impressed!” you say with a smile. You thank him for what he’s done and pull out your phone to check the time. “Okay. We have like a couple more hours before my parents start on their way. Oh, but it’s supposed to snow even harder by then...”

You look out the window, noting that the driveway is already covered in snow from last night’s snowfall. “Would you mind shoveling the snow out of the driveway while I clean the rest of the house?”

“I can do that,” Lucas replies while making his way to the door to get his coat.

“Perfect. While you do that, I’ll finish getting the rest of the place ready and I can start making cookies.”

He agrees and you part ways, leaving Lucas to conquer the heaps of snow while you make sure the house is in perfect order in time for the visit.

Once the rooms are all neat and tidy, you move to the kitchen and look for all the ingredients you’ll need to make a couple batches of tasty Christmas cookies. Humming and swaying to the Christmas classics playing in the background, you make the cookie dough, tasting small bits of it against your better judgment. You turn the oven on to let it preheat and take out metal cookie cutters of various holiday theme shapes including a Christmas tree, a candy cane, a gingerbread man, and a snowman. All of which would add a fun touch of festivity to your cookie batches.

While the cute shapes of dough undergo its transformation in the oven, you look out the window and catch sight of Lucas’ figure wrapped in his large, puffy, winter parka, waddling around in the snow like a penguin with his head hidden under the faux fur hood. From the way he shuffles the snow around his feet aimlessly, he seems to have lost his shovel. Seeing him in his own little world causes a giggle to rise from your chest until you become worried he’ll lose his footing and hit the ground due to the lack of friction underneath his sneakers. Perhaps you should have reminded him to put on his snow boots.

The thin high-pitched beep coming from behind you rouses you from your thoughts and you shift your attention back to the cookies in the oven that are now producing a sweet aroma filling up the kitchen. As soon as you open it, a warm sugary scent wafts from the heated compartment, reaching your nostrils. Placing the sheet of cookies on the countertop, you figure Lucas would want to help decorate them, so you let them cool until he gets back.

As you lean against the countertop, delving in the Christmas music and delicious fragrance consuming the room’s atmosphere, a gust of icy air enters and brushes against your leg, following the sound of the front door opening and closing. You hear Lucas sniff and groan once he comes in. You’re suddenly reminded of all the time and effort you put into cleaning the floor while he was gone and your eyes widen as you rush out of the kitchen.

“Lucas, wait! Did you-”

The squeak coming from Lucas’s wet shoes stops you mid-sentence and with the words leaving your mouth, you freeze. In front of you, Lucas is huffing warm air into his hands, oblivious to the small piles of snow at his feet and the trails of melted ice he’s tracked in. Letting your head fall into your hands, you groan, rubbing your temples as if to alleviate the stress that has just been added to your plate.

“The driveway’s all clear,” you hear Lucas say between sniffs. With a sigh, you shut your eyes and nod, approaching him to take off his coat for him and hang it up.

“Well, now I have to clean this up too,” you say as you let out yet another sigh. 

Lucas’s mouth forms an ‘O’ shape upon realizing what he’s just done. You’re already rushing to find a rag to wipe up the mess.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I can help you out if you want,” he says, looking for a way to undo his mess. 

Frustration evident in your tone, you say, “No, it’s fine. Move.” 

You get on your knees beside his legs and hurriedly wipe the floor with a cloth, occasionally glancing at the clock which only builds your sense of urgency. Time is running out and this extra task is not ideal.

“Y/n,” Lucas starts. “Let me help.”

“I don’t need any,” you say as you finish wiping the floor.

As you try to walk past him, Lucas holds you by the shoulder and pulls you back into him. The tension in your muscles starts to melt away at his touch and you allow him to hold you against his body. The last thing you want to do is project your frustration onto the one person that makes you feel at peace through it all.

“It’ll be okay, we still have time,” he reassures you.

You know he’s trying to comfort you, and it’s working as always, but you know that in reality, you don’t have much time before your parents are on their way.

He kisses your cheek and says, “Now, what is that delicious smell?”

“Cookies.” You giggle at the bright smile on his face at the mention of the yummy Christmas treats. “Wanna decorate ‘em with me?” you ask. He’s already pulling you towards the kitchen before you can even finish the question.

“Okay! I think everything’s perfect.” You set the tray of freshly decorated sugar cookies on the table. You roam around the room listing off the tasks you’ve completed.  “The bathrooms are clean, the kitchen is clean, the mirrors and windows are wiped down, the driveway is- Lucas!”

You snap your attention back at the boy with a star-shaped cookie in hand, held up to his opened mouth, ready to be eaten. Frozen, he peers over at you, caught in the act.

“Put that cookie down. NOW!”

Lucas slowly places the cookie back on the tray, and sighs softly before taking a seat at the table with his head hung low, as if he’s put himself in ‘time-out’.

Your attention is captured by the ring-tone coming from your cell phone. 

“Oh my gosh, they must be on their way,” you say before picking up.

“Hi, my dear,” your mother’s familiar voice gives you a taste of home as soon as you hear it.

“Hi! Are you on your way?” you ask, hopeful.

“I hate to come bearing bad news, but it seems like we won’t be able to make it.”

A disappointed sigh leaves your lips as you think of all the work you’ve done to get the place ready for your parents’ visit. It would’ve been nice to see them again, especially in the holiday spirit, and enjoy quality time together. Your shoulders slouch as your mood drops listening to your mother explain that they’re snowed in for the night. They can’t come.

“They’re not coming?” Lucas asks once you hang up the phone.

You shake your head in response and slump into a chair at the table next to him. Sighing, you prop your elbows on the table, resting your head in your hands, and close your eyes, letting yourself enjoy a moment of calm. Your little moment is brought to an end when you feel a tickle at your bottom lip. Opening your eyes, you see an iced sugar cookie held up to your mouth.

“Taste it.” Your eyes shift upward to Lucas’s cheeky grin. You comply and take a bite out of the cookie. Eyelids fluttering shut in delight, you hum at the deliciousness of the cookie in your mouth. “Is it good?” he asks.

“Perfect,” you giggled.

He takes a bite of the cookie himself and says, “Let’s put on our pajamas,” with his mouth full. “Why? It’s not even late.” 

Although the time indicates that it’s only around 5:30 pm, the darkness outside makes it seem a lot later than it really is.

“Looks like nighttime to me,” he says, pointing towards the window.

“Okay, I guess.” He takes you by the hand and pulls you up from your seat, ushering you towards the bedroom where you can get dressed in your matching fleece pajama sets. In the warmth of your pajamas, you and Lucas decide to make the very best out of this Christmas Eve. While Lucas turns on How the Grinch Stole Christmas, you make hot chocolate in the kitchen and pour yourselves a couple mugs. You top it off with whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and a candy cane leaning against the rim, adding a hint of festive cheer. Bringing the hot cocoa and tray of Christmas cookies, you join Lucas on the sofa, who didn’t bother to wait for you before starting the movie. Crystals of ice fall down the sky outside the window while the crackle and pop of the fireplace keeps you cozy inside. Lucas drapes a fleece blanket over your laps as the mugs of hot cocoa in your hands keep you warm. He wraps his arm around you, bringing you closer in, and places a sweet kiss on your cheek. Although you’d gone through so much stress during the day, to be able to comfortably relax in the warmth of Lucas’ embrace made it all worth it. 

a/n: Merry Christmas! And to those that don’t celebrate it, much love regardless ♡

Proofread by: @hunjins @danishmiilk @crownily thank you guys so so much ♡

#nct-writers #neothestars #cznnet #kpopscape #neowritingsnet #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct fluff #wayv imagines #wayv scenarios #wayv fluff #WayV lucas #lucas x reader #nct lucas #nct x reader #Lucas fluff #Lucas imagines #lucas oneshot #wayv oneshot #nct oneshot #Kay’s Creations

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 2: Roceit

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 2: There is a timer that counts down to when you will meet your soulmate

Content warning: vague neglectful/bad home life mentions, liquor store mention (no drinking), implied past parental death.

Word count: 2.6k

When they first met, they didn’t like each other. Would they go so far as to say they hated each other? Probably not. But it was no secret that Roman and Janus didn’t get along, even if they traveled in a mutual friend group. If the two interacted at all, it was in snide remarks and gripes that had everyone else in the group groaning in annoyance. They just wanted five minutes of peace, that’s all. Just five minutes.

Roman was too preppy, Janus said. He was loud and abrasive and presumptuous and arrogant, an annoying theatre boy with too much energy. Other’s feelings came second to his dramatic and overplayed grievances. 

Janus was too self centered, Roman retorted. He was untrustworthy and creepy and a compulsive liar, a loner with a mysterious backstory. Everything about him was kept hidden under a mask of indifference.

These things were true to some extent, but the group still loved them both too much to reject either one. So they both stayed, bothered by the other’s presence and unwilling to admit that maybe they disliked the other because they were so similar. They were both extravagant and theatrical and burdened with concealed insecurities, points that all of the rest of the group brought up regularly and they both vehemently denied. 

It all changed one morning during school, on a regular Wednesday with average weather after an uneventful English class, when Roman got overly excited at the cast list for the newest show being put up and dropped his art bag. Without a second of hesitation, Janus crouched to help him collect the supplies that had flown across the hallway. That was when Roman’s sleeve slid up, as he was reaching for a paint pen that had rolled up against a locker, and Janus nearly choked.

00:00

He blurted out his accusation before he could stop himself.

“You said you haven’t met your soulmate! And you call me secretive?”

Roman snarled almost animalistically, covering his completed timer back up and grabbing the now full bag off the ground.

“If you must know, my timer’s always been like that. I don’t know when it ran out; too young to remember. I don’t even know if it was ever counting down in the first place. Defective.” He flicked the numbers on his wrist.

“Does anyone else know?”

Roman narrowed his eyes at the uncharacteristic sympathy in Janus’ voice. “Just Remus.”

“Why haven’t you told them?”

“Why all the questions, Fibber on the Roof? Since when do you care about anything I do?”

Janus was quiet, breathing out a frustrated breath before folding down the bottom of his gloves, the same gloves that Roman taunted daily for making him look like every single Disney villain, the same gloves that made Roman turn to the rest of the group and insist that the guy was hiding something. Turns out he was right.

“My timer’s out too. I was too young to remember as well.”

Roman wasn’t able to respond, and Janus was surprisingly relieved. The silent solidarity in the other’s eyes was enough of an olive branch, just another thing they had in common. It was a pain the others didn’t understand, a frustration that couldn’t be fixed. So if from that point on, the bickering lessened and they finally allowed their shared interests to overlap, they surely wouldn’t be the ones to bring it up.  

That’s how they found themselves, almost half a year later, sitting on the swings of a musty playground near Janus’ house, watching the sunset in an unspoken agreement to put off going back until absolutely necessary. It was just another thing they had in common; shitty home life. They didn’t talk about it much, because they knew how much it sucked to discuss, so they let the facts stand at the forefront and the nitty gritty emotions and smaller mental repercussions stay healthily buried. What did it matter? Their parents were awful, ‘nuff said. 

“I just think it’s ridiculous, the amount of time he spent writing it.”

“He wrote and composed an entire play single handedly, J! Not a single word of it is dialogue, and it all rhymes! You try doing that in seven years.”

“I’m just saying, doesn’t it come to the point where you have to admit it’s too much work? Did he even know for a fact it would be successful?”

“He made it work, didn’t he? That’s what faith is for.”

“I wouldn’t have done it.”

“That’s what makes Lin Manuel Miranda a god, and you, a worm.” 

Janus gasped and raised a mock hand to his chest, drawing a loud laugh from Roman. While the shorter of the two still wore his gloves daily, the other had slowly gained the confidence to wear short sleeves and display his empty timer, though god help the fool who asked him anything about it. The conversation with the group had gone well, though Jan hadn’t admitted that his situation was the same. They hadn’t known him as long, and they both agreed that it was a sensitive topic. Roman didn’t push him. 

“The sun’s setting.”

“I had no idea,” Janus smirked, although the implications of the fast approaching darkness made a pit settle in his stomach.

“We don’t have to leave yet. I just don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“I don’t really get in trouble that often,” The shorter murmured, kicking his feet in the dust under him, “She’s more just... forgetful. Ignorant. I’m not even sure she fully knows I exist all the time.”

Roman raised an eyebrow at the first bit of information he’d learned about Janus’ home life, besides knowing it was just ‘bad’. He was debating between quietly prodding him to continue or to just let it sit when Janus made the choice for him.

“The other day she asked me to go to the liquor store for her and literally didn’t believe me when I said I’m only eighteen. Then again, she’s forgotten my birthday for the last, what, ten years? So I guess she just lost track, got ahead of herself. I don’t know.”

“When’s your birthday?” It was the only response Roman could think of. 

“August seventh,” He whispered, almost like it was a dark secret he was scared to admit.

“Wait, actually?”

Janus turned to him, eyebrows furrowed, “Yeah?”

“You’re joking. This is a joke, right?”

“I can probably find my birth certificate if you need proof. Why are you losing your shit?”

“That’s my birthday too!” 

Janus matched Roman’s face splitting grin with one of his own, his worries slipping away. They’d all been irrational anyways, so good riddance. He quickly settled his face into a more neutral one, the unusual expression hurting his cheeks. A calm air settled between them as their eyes locked, almost in a trance, before Janus snapped out of it and turned his attention to the pink hues of the dimming sky.

“What are the chances?”

There was a lot Roman didn’t know about the newest member of the friend group, he realized after dropping Janus off at home and starting the walk back to his. Usually he’d pop in his earbuds, taking the longest back roads and detours to put off arriving even more, but today his head was lost in his thoughts. What else didn’t he know about the blond boy he was so infatuated with?

Two weeks later, Janus edged the front door of his house open, calling out a tentative “Mom?” before pushing it open all the way and pulling Roman in. There was no answer through the empty halls so he yanked the taller boy upstairs, praying that his mom wasn’t home instead of just ignoring his call. It wasn’t until he shut his bedroom door and leaned heavily against it did he remember to breathe, meeting Roman’s eyes shakily.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I get it. Parent’s are…”

“Yeah. It’s better if she doesn’t know you’re here.”

Roman nodded, finally looking around the room. One wall was completely adorned with old records, some cracked in places or missing pieces entirely. He found himself drawn to it, running a finger down the closest one to him as Janus collapsed on his bed, ruffling the yellow blanket beneath him. He took a moment to pull off his gloves, revealing his soulmark, a secret that only Roman had the honor of seeing. An old jukebox stood proudly in the corner, covered in a fine layer of dust.

“You definitely have an aesthetic,” Roman hummed, taking notes on the implications of the dust and not approaching the old machine. If Janus didn’t touch it, neither should he. Instead he sat down at the other’s desk, spinning himself lazily in the chair.

“It was all my dad’s old stuff. He loved music and antiques a lot. The record player was his, too.” 

He followed Janus’ gaze and nodded, overly tempted to take one of the records from the wall and trying to play it, but knowing that would only end badly. The record player was covered in the same thin sheet of dust. 

“Holy Hera, is that a baby picture of you?” His mind, apparently unable to stay on one topic for more than ten seconds, had decided to focus on the framed picture on the bedside table. He crossed the room and sat next to Janus on the bed, leaning closer to the photo but not daring to touch it. He inspected the woman, who could only be Janus’ mother, holding the tiny bundle and smiling weakly at the camera, her eyes tired and hair tied in a messy bun.

“Yeah,” Janus rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “That’s the only picture I have with her. She hates cameras, always said she was self conscious and shit. It sucks that the only one I have, I don’t even remember taking.”

Roman knew he should respond to the surprisingly vulnerable statement, but his eyes had zeroed onto the still slightly slimy, wrinkly baby in the photo. Its little fists were tucked against his face, eyes closed peacefully, a moment of bliss that time forgot. That’s not what caught his attention, though. He squinted, edging just that much closer to the photo.

“You were born at Jacob Banks Memorial Hospital? I thought you lived in Chicago before you moved out here.” The tiny golden embroidery in the edge of the blanket was just focused enough to make out, as if he didn’t have an identical blanket at home, stashed under his bed in a box of other memories that were too special to throw away. He’d run his finger over the stitching a hundred times, reread the words and committed the blanket to memory, just for that high of simple childhood. And now, here was Janus as a baby, swaddled in the same blanket.

From the same hospital.

From the same day.

“Yeah. My parents were visiting relatives in town when my mom went into early labor. We didn’t end up actually moving here until a couple years ago.” Janus didn’t seem to notice the gears turning in Roman’s head as he reached forward, plucking the picture off the table and bringing it closer to his face. He tapped the glass, just above baby Janus’ arms.

“Right there, my timer. It’s just a few minutes left. I met my soulmate as a baby and no one cared enough to check who it was.”

“Janus.”

“I called the hospital as soon as I was old enough to comprehend, but they said they couldn’t help me. Didn’t have a record of anything to do with soulmates. Some help, huh.”

“Janus!”

“What? I’m trying to be melodramatic, Roman.”

“That’s the same hospital I was born in.”

“Okay? It’s the only one in town, I’m not overly surprised-” The lightbulb went off, and his head jerked up. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’.”

They both were quiet for a moment, like the whole house was holding it’s breath, before Janus finally spoke, his voice a choked whisper. “Imagine with me, if you will,” he murmured, taking the picture and inspecting it closely. Not so much for sake of searching for details he wouldn’t have missed the hundreds of hours he spent inspecting the photo, more so just to avoid looking at the person beside him. “Two babies, born in the same place on the same day, put into the same small hospital nursery. They see each other, and click, their timers are out. Except both their parents don’t give a flying rat’s ass-”

“And so they never realize they met, and live their entire lives shrouded in mystery,” Roman finished quietly, suddenly terrified of the new ice they were walking on. 

“Hypothetically, of course.”

His head snapped up and the spell was broken, meeting Janus’ pale eyes and jumping to his feet, flapping his hands to dispel his nervous energy. “Okay. Okay! That could… that could make sense! All signs point that way, right?” He began to pace the length of Janus’ room, head tilted towards the ceiling, “And I mean, god, I’ve liked you for how long now? So I’m definitely not upset!”

“You’ve what?”

“Alright, so we can call the hospital, or go there, or something! I’m sure they can tell us how many babies were born that day, that doesn’t seem like confidential information, right? And if it was just us three, you, me, and Remus, then that’ll settle it!”

“Wait, no, Roman, stop!”

Janus launched himself at Roman before he could click the call button on the Google search of the hospital, already dedicated to his plan. He ripped the phone from his grasp and tossed it onto the bed after pressing the power button, grabbing Roman’s hands tightly.

“Jan, what the hell? That’s the only way we’re going to know for sure if we’re-”

“But what if we’re not?!”

The two settled into silence after the outburst, searching each other’s faces intently. They both shared scared expressions, eyes wide with excitement and nervousness, the possibility of years worth of questions finally being answered. The promise that their two soulmarks weren’t dysfunctional, weren’t broken, and fate that had led them together one way or another. 

But what if they weren’t?

“What if it’s a coincidence? What if you find out that your mom checked out before mine even got there, or our paths never could have crossed, or there were twenty babies born that day and there’s no sure way to know that we are each other’s soulmates? What if you find out that your soulmark said two years and mine ran out with someone else completely?”

“You’re starting to sound like Virgil,” Roman said quietly, almost fondly, a gentle smile tugging at his lips.

“Roman, if you’re my soulmate, I’d be elated,” Janus’ hushed tone matched his, “But I don’t know what I’ll do if I build my hope and then find out it’s not true.” They were quiet again, and Janus was suddenly hyper aware that he was still holding Roman’s hands, a furious blush rising to his cheeks. He fought the urge to look away, look anywhere other than Roman’s bright eyes, because this was the closest they’d ever been and he was scared one flinch might break the charm they were in. 

“We don’t have to check,” the taller whispered, “If you are, I’m content just… believing it.”

“You always were a cheesy romantic.” The phrase was meant to be cutting, but the uncontainable grin across his face greatly lessened its impact.

“I’m a Disney lover, what can I say?”

Janus snorted, dropping his head on to Roman’s shoulder, his heart nearly stopping altogether when the taller boy wrapped his arms around him and pulled them a step closer together. “So we’re agreeing on this? That we’re soulmates?” His voice was muffled against Roman’s shirt.

“As far as I’m concerned, yes. Fuck the system, right?”

“Overthrow the government. Commit arson in the name of anarchy. Society is a prison.”

“Dramatic, and that’s coming from me,” Roman drawled, rocking them back and forth slowly, dancing to unheard music, “Hey, Janus?”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

#tsshipmonth2020 #lywrites #roceit #roman sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #ts soulmate au #soulmate september #soulmateseptember #tw abuse #tw neglect

[thefloorisbalaclava]

pragma - part seven

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Female reader

Warnings: early morning smut and the rest is fluff

A/N: This chapter is another sweet one from Frankie’s POV. The song playing towards the end is Harvest Moon by Neil Young (one of my favorites). Also thanks to @loki-098​ for helping me!

Summary: Frankie is reluctant to spend time away from you.

pragma masterlist

gif by @pascalplease​

Frankie knew this had to be a dream even though he was sure he was awake. The woman of his dreams was in his arms and she held onto his arm like a child holding a stuffed animal. He didn’t want to move—it wasn’t out of fear of waking her up, it was because he didn’t want everything to disappear just yet. He wanted her to keep holding onto him, he wanted to stay this close to her.

The memories of yesterday come floating back to him and he smiles to himself. They made love. They said ‘I love you'. And then they made love again. It was real. It had to be. Frankie touched her gently with his free hand, drawing little patterns on the bare skin of her back. She had the most beautiful skin he had ever seen. His was rough and callused and scarred. He felt as though he had no business touching his rough skin to her softness but she didn’t seem to mind.

“Frankie,” she mumbled and he froze. Did he wake her?

“It’s me, baby.” Even if she wasn’t awake, he wanted her to know that. “I’m here.” When she started to play with his fingers, he knew she was awake.

“Big hands,” she said quietly, placing her palm in his to see how much smaller her hand was compared to his. “They’re lovely.” She proceeded to kiss each of his fingers. He blushed behind her and he hoped she didn’t turn to look at him just yet.

“Are they?” he asked, kissing the back of her neck then moving down to her spine. Something about her giving him the tiniest bit of praise…

“Yes. Big, strong, lovely hands. Rough yet so gentle…like you.”

He closed his eyes and sighed, trying to keep certain parts of him under control but she kept talking and he lost any control he did have.

“These hands have been through war yet they’re so soft with me. How do you do it?” she asked. He had a feeling she wasn’t looking for a spoken answer. Like yesterday, she wanted him to show her.

He kissed her shoulder as he slowly trailed his hand down her body—breasts, stomach, hips, and then the one place that made her make the sweetest sounds. He took his time; it was a lazy kind of loving that he always wanted to experience but never had the chance to. She guided his hand as it played between her legs, showing him exactly what she wanted.

“Yes,” she whispered. She finally looked back at him, reaching up with her free hand and running her fingers through his hair before pulling him in for a kiss. “Frankie.” That soft, sweet whimper sent a pleasurable chill down his spine.

He took his hand from between her legs and grabbed her thigh so he could move her leg slightly but she stopped him then turned to him and pushed him onto his back.

“What?” he asked with a smile. She only kissed him then began moving lower. “What are you doing?” He knew exactly what she was doing but he wasn’t sure what else to say. She was hidden under the sheets now. He could make out her movements and feel them as well. He knew what was coming but the feeling of her mouth around him still surprised him.

“Oh,” he gasped, his hands pulling at the sheets under him. He squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip embarrassed of the sounds he might make. Her head bobbed up and down on him and part of him wanted to see exactly what she was doing. The other part knew that if he did see, it would be over before it started. He pulled the sheet away anyway and her eyes met his.

Frankie had been in all sorts of life or death situations and had gotten out of them but this…this was killing him in the best way and he didn’t want to stop it. If he died this way, so be it. His hand shook as he lifted it and brought it to her head. He was careful about how he placed it, not wanting to seem like he was trying to force her to do anything. She moved faster once she felt his hand and he accidentally gripped her hair, letting go as soon as he realized what he had done.

“S-sorry…I…oh…” She didn’t stop. In fact, she seemed to be spurred on by his actions. He sat up slightly and watched, touching her cheek before bringing his hand back to her head. “Jesus,” he whispered, feeling that overwhelming sensation. She took him into her mouth as deep as she could and cursed loudly before pulling her off.

“Wha-"

“Fucking Christ…come here!” He pulled her up and kissed her hard not caring that he could taste a bit of himself on her tongue. “Do you know what you do to me?” he asked against her lips. She looked down then back at him.

“I think so,” she giggled.

“Do something for me?” he asked and she nodded. “Lay like you were earlier.”

“Okay.” She kissed him before rolling onto her side. He put his arm around her again but immediately moved his hand down between her legs. She pushed back against him as soon as he touched her.

“Wow.” He wasn’t expecting her to be so ready and all from her pleasuring him. He moved his hand only to position her leg over his then returned to what he was doing. “Show me.” She guided his hand again, rubbing and caressing herself with his hand just the way she liked. While she did that, he eased himself inside her and she whined.

“Oh God!” she moaned pushing herself onto him the rest of the way. They both cried out when he was fully seated within her. She turned her head to kiss him as he slowly thrust his hips, feeling her stretch around him. His other arm was under her but he was able to bend it to pull her closer. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear and she whispered back.

“I love you so fucking much,” he said as she looked into his eyes.

“I love you too.” Another kiss. She couldn’t get enough. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He thrusted a little faster, making her mouth drop open. He could feel her getting tighter around him and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. She held his hand still against her then cried out, coming around him. Just like last night, he followed behind her, pressing himself against her with a loud groan. And again, like last night, he wanted to stay just like that.

“Did you fall asleep?” she asked weakly.

“Mm mm.” But his eyes were closed. He could fall asleep just like this.

“What should we do today?”

“Nothing.” He could spend the day holding her and making love to her and that would be enough.

“Let’s take a bath.”

“A bath?” He carefully pulled out of her and sighed. He was used to quick showers and that was about it. A bath was a luxury.

“Yeah. Come on.” She rolled out of bed and walked to the bathroom to start the bath. By the time he gets the strength to get out of bed she’s already in the bath waiting for him. “There you are.”

“Here I am.” He steps in and sits between her legs. He would have preferred it the other way around but this was nice too. She immediately wrapped her arms around him.

“I just remembered that there are a few things I have to do today…” The change in her tone worried him.

“What?”

“I…have to change my name on a lot of things…bank accounts, driver’s license…you know, since I’m officially divorced now…” She sighed and rested her chin on his shoulder.

“I could go with you,” he offered.

“Nah, it’s okay. You go home and let everyone know you’re still alive. I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?” He turned his head to look at her.

“Yes, my love, I’m sure.”

“Heh. ‘My love’. I like that.” They both bathed, helping each other here and there even if help wasn’t needed. By the time they got out they were all wrinkly.

*

She dressed slowly, sometimes stopping completely just sitting on her bed staring out at nothing and that worried him.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She looked at him and smiled. “I finally get to see you in clothes today since, you know, you never got a chance to put them on yesterday.”

“Whose fault is that?” He pulled the shirt over his head.

“Yours! Mr. ‘clothes are overrated’.” Her smile could light up a room.

“I love your smile.” He sat beside her and she put her head on his shoulder. “I know you’re tired of me asking but are you sure you don’t need me to go with you today?”

“I’m sure. I promise.”

“Okay.” He kissed the top of her head and took her hand so they could walk downstairs together. “You’ll call me if you need anything, right?”

“Yes.”

“I hate saying goodbye. Sounds like I’m never gonna see you again.” He stopped at the door.

“Then we won’t say goodbye. We’ll say see you later.” She kissed him then bumped his nose with hers.

“Okay. See you later, mi amor.” With one last lingering kiss he walked out and she watched from the door until he drove away. He looked in his rear-view mirror until he couldn’t see her anymore. He missed her already.

*

Frankie spent the next few hours doing work around his house. He suddenly had the urge to clean up and fix things. Santiago stopped by and he told him everything. He seemed to be happier than Frankie at the news. His phone hadn’t rung once and he didn’t even receive a text from her. He could only hope that she was okay.

When the sunset and the moon shone brightly overhead, he decided to call. He couldn’t wait anymore. She answered after the second ring.

“Hello?” She sounded dejected and as if she had been crying.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Hey me,” she teased but it wasn’t her usual tone.

“How did everything go?” he asked and she went quiet. When he heard her sniffle, he made up his mind right away. He had to go to her. “I’m coming up there right now, okay?”

“Okay,” she cried.

*

The drive should have taken him closer to an hour but he drove a little faster than he should have to get to her. She was never going to be sad longer than necessary if he had anything to do about it.

He pulled up to the house and sat in the truck for a moment, letting it idle while he dug into his pocket and pulled out what he had found earlier. He put the cassette in and turned the volume up as loud as it could go before stepping out of the truck.

Come a little bit closer

Hear what I have to say…

He waited. She would hear it. Their song. Well, one of them at least. He put his hands in his pockets and whistled along.

“Come on, baby,” he said quietly.

Just like children sleepin’

We could dream this night away

The door opened and she stood there in all her glory. She looked tired but she still smiled and her eyes shone with tears that had yet to fall.

“How did you…” She lingered by the door.

“Found it when I was cleaning up at home.” He wasn’t going to force her to come to him. He had nothing but time for her.

But there’s a full moon risin'

Let’s go dancin’ in the light…

Frankie looked up at the sky and she did as well. “Remember what you used to tell me?” he asked.

“What?”

“That no matter where we were, when we look up, we’re looking at the same moon.” He looked at her though she was still looking up. “That always kept me going, you know?”

“Really?” she choked out. She finally walked out to him.

We know where the music’s playin'

Let’s go out and feel the night…

“Really.” He took her into his arms and swayed with her.

“Such a romantic.” She smiled a real smile for him and that was the greatest gift he could receive tonight. “I can’t believe you remembered this song.”

“Are you kidding? You loved this song.” He lowered his voice. “I think we even made out to it a few times.”

“We did.” The light wind carried her giggle.

Frankie sung along:

“Because I’m still in love with you

I want to see you dance again

Because I’m still in love with you

On this harvest moon.”

“What a lovely voice,” she said.

“You’re teasing me, aren’t you?” He looked down at her and she smirked before nodding. “Fine, I’ll let Neil Young do the singing.”

But then she began singing:

“When we were strangers

I watched you from afar

When we were lovers

I loved you with all my heart.”

“Much better than me,” Frankie said. He twirled her once then pulled her back in close again.

“You’re a wonderful dancer.”

“Gotta make up for the shitty singing.” They both laughed at that. “I love hearing you laugh.”

“I love…I love you.” She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes as they continued to sway.

But now it’s gettin' late

And the moon is climbin' high

I want to celebrate

See it shinin' in your eyes

“I love you too.” He kissed the top of her head.

“You told Santiago, didn’t you?”

“How’d you know?” He looked at her.

“He’s been texting me all day about it,” she laughed. “He’s been rooting for us since the beginning.”

“He was right the whole damn time. I’ll never hear the end of it,” Frankie complained.

“Well, at least it’s a good thing to be right about.” She shrugged.

“Yeah, guess you’re right.”

“You hungry?” she asked.

“Starving.” Just then his stomach rumbled.

“Obviously. Let’s get take out. I have wine in the house,” she said and he made a face. “And beer.”

“I can’t think of anything more romantic than that.” He let her go reluctantly so he could go turn the radio off. As he made his way back to her, he stopped and admired her just standing there. She wasn’t dressed in anything spectacular but she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The moonlight seemed to shine directly on her and make her glow like some ethereal being. She was an angel. She had to be. The stars twinkled above them but he had his own right here right now.

“You comin'?” She walked to the door and he nodded following her into the house.

Because I’m still in love with you

On this harvest moon.

[eight]

Tags: @cable-kenobi​ @saltywintersoldat​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @pedrosdoll​ @psychobillybunny​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @keeper0fthestars @mrsparknuts​ @thinemineours​ @huliabitch @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @lavenderl3mons​ @mrscrain-x7​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @gooddaykate @themilkface​

#Frankie Morales #frankie morales x reader #francisco 'catfish' morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal #headcanon

[luvknow]

KINGPIN | han jisung

genre: hitman!jisung x fem!reader | light angst ; swearing ; drug cartel ; guns ; blood summary: your dad, kingpin of a secret drug cartel, hires a hitman slash bodyguard named jisung so both yours and his life are well-protected. you find your life is a little more exciting with jisung around, but not always in the best way. wc: 15k

There’s an eerie chill in the company building as you made your way to your Father’s grande office that sat ten floors below the surface - The Office in Hell, as you’d call it. Maybe it was the poor insulation of the windows or the mob of men who encircled you and invaded your space bubble, but them and the chilling air was something you could never get used to. The awkward elevator music going down didn’t ease your nerves, either. Why your Father ever insisted on such measures like an entire escort crew for your ‘protection’, you’ll never understand, but you knew better than to argue. Besides, you practically grew up with these men - it was like you had eight uncles.

Well, some of them watched you grow up. Some had, uh, disappeared and had to be replaced in the process. That’s daddy for ya.

The extravagant but incredibly outdated seemingly infinite corridor had the huge cliche oak doors at the end. The two handles, gilded in bright gold, were shaped like the Rod of Aesculapius in honor of you getting accepted into medical school. Although you didn’t follow your Dad’s footsteps and go to business school, he was still very proud of his little Princess for making a name for yourself and this was his daily reminder of how accomplished you’ve become. Business school was what brought this crazy kind of life upon your father anyways, and he’d worry everyday if you got involved in this lifestyle. So he thanked God you got into med school.

Two of the men opened the door for you as if even the Rod of Aesculapius did not deserve to be touched by your hands. It’s been a while since you’ve visited home that you forgot how much they treated you like royalty, like an actual princess. You supposed they weren’t exactly wrong… Drug Pusher Princess had a certain ring to it, didn’t it?

Your Dad sat in his favorite leather chair staring at some paperwork with his glasses resting on the tip of his tiny nose. If this were anywhere but ten floors below, you might have believed he was doing real paperwork for the Soju company, but the wads of cash next to the wooden cart of cocaine made it less convincing.

You saw your Dad’s eyes light up and sparkle when he realized it was you. “My little girl!”

“Hi, Dad,” you greeted warmly before walking over and giving him a big hug. Kingpin of a massive drug cartel, CEO of an international Soju brand, and Professor at the University, your Dad’s number one job was to be your number one supporter and love you endlessly. Really, you couldn’t hate him for living life on the edge like this after he and your Mother got divorced - he was still the best Dad anyone could ask for, and that was the most important part, right? Being filthy rich helped you oversee the cocaine, too.

“It’s not everyday a Dad gets to see his only child. This calls for a drink. Jisung! Get the good whiskey from the glass case!” he called into the neighboring room.

“Yes, sir,” you heard an unfamiliar voice.

“Dad, it’s like one in the afternoon…”

“A celebration does not wait for five o’ clock, Princess.”

From the room over came a man who you’ve never seen before carrying a tray with ice, two crystal tumblers, and a huge vial of liquid gold whiskey. He must be new, at least in the last couple of years since the last time you’ve visited. He was definitely different than the rest of your Dad’s henchmen. He was on the shorter side, so it probably wasn’t his strength that got him hired. Maybe he was intelligent? A hacker, perhaps?

The man could tell you were staring - no, analyzing him, so he dared to look back. He knew better than to glare at the King’s Princess, but you could tell he didn’t like how you were already judging him after five whole seconds.

After pouring your drinks, handing them off, and exiting the room you dared to ask. “Fresh meat?”

“Hardly,” your Dad chuckled. “I hired him shortly after your last visit a couple of years ago.”

“What does he do?”

“He’s my right hand and my Hitman.”

“Whoa, what!? Dad! You said you would never do that kind of thing!” you whined worriedly.

“You don’t understand how dangerous this business is.”

“Uh, yeah I do! How many times have you called me while I was doing my rotations at the hospital to keep an eye out for your men? I literally see everything.”

“That’s exactly why I hired Jisung, a Grade-A Hitman. I don’t want to involve you anymore than I have to already, so hopefully he’ll lessen my calls to you while you’re on duty. And you don’t want your old man to end up in the hospital either, or worse yet dead, now do you?”

“No…”

“Ok then, end of discussion.”

“No, not the end!” you leaned over his desk to whisper so neither that Jisung guy nor even the wall of men behind you could hear. “Where did you find him, anyways? Off the street? What if he’s working for someone? Or-or worse, trying to overtake your empire?”

“With Jeongin’s help, we did an extremely extensive background and everything. No record of him ever getting involved with another group. And to answer your question, yes, I found him off the street.”

“What the hell, Dad! You’re so careless!”

“I’ll drink to that.” Without your consent, he clinked your two glasses together with a cheeky grin on his dumb, wrinkly face. “Lighten up, Buttercup. There’s no need for your inherent apprehension on such a happy day.”

You didn’t answer before sipping on whiskey with the glass between your pouty lips. Your eyes naturally drifted around the room trying to see how much it changed since the time you cried to your Dad about how you thought about dropping out due to the immense pressure. There was a place for everything, and everything was in its place, so nothing had changed other than the unfamiliar man in the next room. While your Dad busied himself with another glass, you dared to get up and peak into the room.

Jisung was wiping down a pistol. Knowing that he was ‘off the streets’, you bet it was unregistered. The sight of a gun and being in its presence really made your skin crawl. You didn’t know Jisung at all, but if he was your Dad’s Hitman, there was no way he’d be reckless with a pistol, right? So at least you knew he was skilled with a weapon. He wore all black and the piece of clothing that stood out to you the most was his leather jacket.

He noticed you peaking in almost immediately and raised his brow. What could the accomplished Princess be looking for? You watched him eye you up and down so slowly that you felt like you might as well have been naked. His gazing and the slight curl on his pretty lips was incredibly intimate and hardly appropriate, especially for a first meeting. Maybe seduction was part of his specialty. Or was he mocking you with it?

“Who are you?” you asked hoping your tone was strong enough to hide your embarrassment.

“Jisung.”

“Where are you from?”

“Off the street,” he teased. “At least that’s what you assume, right?”

“Were you eavesdropping?”

“It’s hard not to when it’s my job.”

“Your job is to protect my Dad, not eavesdrop on uninvited conversations.”

“Spying is just a small fraction of my job, love.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Are you picking a fight with a Hitman already, Sugarplum?”

Your Dad interjected at the perfect time to break up the tension between his precious prodigal Princess and his right-hand unbounded Knight. Jisung was not bothered since he was accustomed to arguing with the enemy, but you on the other hand might as well have steam coming out your ears. You may have gotten the last word, but the smirk on Jisung’s lips let you know that he didn’t care that you won this battle because in the end, he was going to win the war.

“Not a fight,” you corrected before flashing your Dad a fake smile. “Just some bantering.”

“As you always do - it’s what you’re best at, after all. Just like your mother ~”

“Dad!”

Jisung didn’t try very hard to hide his snickering and now you could check off ‘Dad embarrasses you in front of his Hitman’ from The Drug Cartel Bingo sheet.

“Are we going out for lunch, or what?” Your Dad began to push you out of the room before you could object. “Jisung, I trust you can take care of my office while I’m away.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Excellent. I’ll be sure to order you something.”

“A bit generous for office-sitting, don’t you think - ow!” Dad nudged your arm with his bony elbow, shoving you through the doorway and forcing you out the office in general so you both could finally get going to lunch.

“You were never nice to strangers, you know,” he scolded while you two and eight men stuffed into the elevator. “Every time we went to parties or ran into friends on the street, you were always so suspicious of them.”

“Yeah, because all the girls at school only liked me for our money, so I figured the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree.”

“Well, you weren’t wrong. But Jisung’s different, ok? He’s a good kid, he’s just a kid.”

“‘Just a kid’, yeah a kid you found off the street who can wield a pistol? Seriously, he’s a total stranger! What makes him so special!?”

“Ok I lied, he’s not from the streets, or whatever you kids call the bad neighborhoods these days.” Dad made you wait until you both got into his completely blacked-out car limo thing before continuing. “He’s one of my teacher’s assistance.”

“You’re kidding, right? You have a TA as your Hitman? Is this not like… conflict of interest?”

“Not when he’s my best and most loyal student.”

“How did you convince him to join you in this kind of life?”

“He doesn’t look like it, but Jisung’s a total suck up, so it wasn’t very hard. Of course he was surprised at first when I offered the position, but completely willing. Did the whole drug test, psychological test, multiple physicals, hazed him a bit and everything - he’s perfect. I like him a lot, too - might even offer him a permanent job once he graduates and it doesn’t look like he’s leaving anytime soon, so you better play nice and get used to his company. He’s family now.”

“These men are not real family, Dad.”

“Tell that to your eight uncles.”

Lunch was filled with the most extravagant salads, daytime cocktails, and Dad only ordered the finest cuts of meats. Even for his Hitman, he ordered nothing short of a Michelin star special. There were many moments in your life when you thought your Dad was too nice for his own good and your ‘inherent apprehension’ as he worded it was at an all time high towards everyone around him because of those thoughts. It would break your heart if anyone were to get too close and bring down his entire empire he built just so you, him, and even your Mom could live a happily and worry-less. You didn’t care how many Hitmen or guards he considered family - you were his real and only family and you were the only one truly looking out for him, even if that meant you would be put in danger.

Just don’t tell Dad you care too much, otherwise he really might think you’ll take over as the head one day just so he wouldn’t have to do it anymore.

When you both arrived back to his office, Jisung was exactly where you left him - except instead of cleaning a pistol, he was cleaning a silencer. Immediately upon seeing you and Dad, he got up to bow. Ugh, he was a total suck up!

“See, I don’t even make him do that,” your Dad defended. “Most loyal TA, I’m telling you.”

You only rolled your eyes. “I’m heading back to the hospital.”

“Jisung will escort you.”

“No,” you said flatly.

“C’mon, it’ll give you to some bonding time! And the hospital isn’t exactly in the safest part of the city.”

“Oh my God, I’ll be fine -”

“That’s an order,” Dad said in his strictly no funny business tone. “Am I seeing you again soon or through facetime for the next two years?”

“I promise I’ll visit more often. I just hate going up and down the elevator and walking the mile-long hallway.”

“I’ll hold you to that promise. Just ask one of your uncles to carry you next time, or something. Jisung, text me when she’s at the hospital.”

“Yes, sir.”

You didn’t even bother arguing your Dad’s over-protective measures. “Bye, Dad.”

“Bye, sweetie!”

You’re out of the door before Jisung could catch up and he thought how this must be the med student in you. He clearly remembered that was how all the med students walked around his campus like they always had somewhere to be and were more important than all the other ‘smaller’ students. He was never a fan of them and he wondered if he was about to add another person to his list.

Why was Dad’s elevator music always this awkward and cliche?

“So… you TA for my Dad?” you asked, trying to play nice, as your Dad had put it.

He chuckled a bit before responding - or maybe it was a scoff. “So you figured out I’m not from the streets?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that… I’m not as trusting as my Dad.”

“No worries. You’re just smart. I would harass a stranger if they got near my family, too.”

“I didn’t harass you…”

“What would you call it then?”

“Being protective.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Jisung’s car was already outside of the company building. At least you think it’s his car, but could a business grad student really afford an all-black Ferrari? There was no fucking way.

“This is your car?” you asked incredulously.

He thought you’d be used to these types of cars by the way your Dad lived his life, but maybe he was wrong. “Yes and no - more like your Dad gave it to me.”

“He’s just giving out cars now?”

“No ~ Think of it as a business car.”

“Business cars are shitty silver-colored sedans that have to be manually opened with a key, not a shiny black Ferrari with butterfly doors!”

“Would you rather take the subway?”

“No…”

“Well then,” he began before fluttering the car doors open. “Your chariot awaits, Princess.”

“I have a name, you know.”

“Your chariot awaits, _____.”

Damn, so he knew your name. Was that all part of being a Hitman? Knowing their name, their background, their entire life… or did he just have to know what their face looked like before he shot a bullet through it? Did he just know your name, did he know everything about you, or somewhere in between?

The beginning of the car ride was silent until Jisung hit the highway and began weaving in and out of the lanes like those douchey car dudes who revved up their engines any chance they could get to show off how big their dick was. What the hell was wrong with this guy!? He must have been used to this kind of driving from all the chasing or whatever the hell he does, but that didn’t mean he should be driving like this with a good ol’ civilian like yourself in the passenger’s seat!

“Are you trying to take me to the hospital or put me in one!?” you shrieked loudly while gripping on to the handle on the roof like your life depended on it.

“What do you mean? This is normal driving for me.”

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? Is it because I said you’re from the street? I said I was sorry! Is this part of your scare tactic, or something?”

“I could never hurt you. I’d lose my job,” he teased.

“Then please, for the love of God, slow down!”

“I would if we weren’t already here.”

“Huh?” Looking outside the tinted windows, as much as you hated to admit it, Jisung was right. You arrived safely in front of your hospital with your heart beating faster than his driving. “Oh… That was fast…”

“You’re welcome.”

The sarcastic man left the car first, running around to flip your door open like some chivalrous Knight. It was weird labeling him as a Knight - that and Hitman weren’t necessarily synonymous, but both were somehow appropriate. The door flipped open and Jisung held his hand out for you, but you took a pass on that.

“Thank you for driving,” you muttered to him, feeling a bit awkward. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around?”

“Of course you will. Have a nice day, ______.”

“W-Wait!” Jisung turned back around and raised his brow, which you now figured was his curiosity quirk. It was quite cute, but don’t tell him that. “How much do you know about me?”

He pursed his lips tightly together as if he was too embarrassed to answer. “Do you really want to know?”

“Never mind, you already answered it.”

Then he breaks out laughing. Ah, even cuter than his eyebrow quirk… What was with you and simple things that boys do that made your heart leap? You hated it. Well, he was definitely charming like a Knight.

“Have a nice day, _____,” he repeated. “Call me if you ever need a ride anywhere.”

“Thanks, but I don’t have your number.”

“I’ll text you so you’ll have it.”

“Wait, you have my number?”

Jisung only winked before getting in his car and driving off as fast as you arrived.

“Have a nice day, too,” you muttered to no one. “This is why I hate mobsters.”

When you walked into your unit, you saw all of your lady classmates eyeing you teasingly. Oh no, did they see everything? Now the whole department’s going to know about Jisung because for some reason med students do not know how to shut their mouths when it came to juicy gossip. They erupted in a song of oohs and ahhs, but luckily it was only your closest friend Somi who rushed to your side with heart eyes and open ears.

“Is that the famous guy you’ve been seeing?” she teased. “You didn’t tell me he was a whole man.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked innocently.

“Oh, come on, the entire hospital saw you come out of his car! We could hear the engine from a mile away. No one expected little _____ to date a man like that ~! He’s tasty, dude.”

“Somi!”

“A whole ass meal.”

“Ok, that’s enough!” you blushed.

“He’s hot.”

“Look, I’m not seeing him! He just works for my Dad, that’s all.”

“Well, maybe you should pretend you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dr. San didn’t seem too happy seeing you with him ~”

Dr. Choi San, the apple of everyone in the entire hospital’s eyes. Name any person in any of the departments, patient or faculty, and they’ll tell you how much and what they love about Dr. Choi San. You were no exception - you’ve had a major crush on him since your volunteering years as an undergrad student and he was still in med school. If you thought he was hot then, well damn, how would you describe him now? Like McDreamy from Grey’s Anatomy? You’d talk here and there, and at times you’d follow him on rotations, but there wasn’t much interaction beyond that. You simply admired him from afar at this point. But to hear he’s upset about you being with Jisung? A total stranger? Man, if only your ego could fly higher than space.

“Really?” you grinned happily. “Do you think he’s jealous?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Well, in that case then yes, that is the guy I’m seeing.”

“Ugh, you dog… I love this side of you. So what’s his name? Does he have any brothers?”

Let’s see how long you can pull this off.

unknown [13:15]: Hey, Princess. It’s Jisung.

old man [02:45]: Hey, hun. Are you working overnight?

you [02:48]: Yes, why? What did you do this time?

old man [02:49]: Room 430.

“Dammit,” you cursed. A long, tired, heavy sigh escaped your lips as you dragged your feet to the fourth floor. Dad had a pretty good streak of keeping his men away from your hospital, but at 2:45 in the morning was the regression back to day zero.

Room 430 was one of the fancier and completely private rooms, so it was just one of your Dad’s men that was hospitalized. You walked in expecting to only see him unconscious on the bed, but you were welcomed with that and an unscathed Jisung reading next to him. It’s been a couple of weeks since you last saw him, so it was a little awkward, but you were mostly embarrassed because now he’s seen you in your scrubs and white coat with messy hair and droopy eyes.

“Hey,” he greeted casually.

“Hi. You look completely fine, what are you doing here?”

“It was my fault this happened, so I wanted to stay until he wakes up. Plus, I was hoping I’d see you.”

“Did you need something?”

“No. I’ve just missed you since our first meeting. That’s all,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes. “Ha ha… But you’re ok though, right? No bullet or stab wounds or whatever you guys go through nowadays?”

“Completely fine. No need to worry, love.”

“I said to not call me that!” You sighed again for the millionth time that shift. What was the point of arguing with him? “What happened tonight? Why did you say this was your fault?”

“Some guys tried to scam us during a delivery and we got ambushed. They were merely pawns in the enemy’s operation though, it didn’t take long for us to eliminate them, but Mingi here got stabbed from behind and I failed to watch his back.”

“Same old thug shit as usual.”

“Exactly. God, I feel so stupid.” The Hitman ran a hand through his messy hair before rubbing the tired from his eyes. You almost felt bad. His sleep schedule must be as fucked up as yours was, maybe even worse. Who knows what times of the day Dad needed him? But what do you say to a Hitman having a crisis?

“It’s not easy working for my Dad, but you’re doing fine. He likes you.”

“Yeah? How would you know?”

“You’re alive, right?” You saw Jisung’s eyes widen in fear for a split second before you laughed. It was entertaining to see his face express something other than pure cockiness. “I’m kidding! Half kidding… he told me likes you.”

“Wow, look at you. Who knew you could smile,” he teased again. He liked your smile. It was charming in its own way - in a way that was you. He liked the color of your blush after he told you, too.

“Shut up… What did the doctor say about Mingi?”

“He’ll be just fine,” a familiar voice said.

Behind you stood Dr. San with his signature charming smile on his lips and a clipboard with Mingi’s paperwork. You felt your heart leap in your throat, stopping you dead silent and that did not go past Jisung. The way your eyes widened, how your back stiffened - you were a totally different person around this guy. You saw Jisung do the eyebrow thing at you and you glared back, telling him that he better shut up or else.

“How are you, _____?” Dr. San asked gently.

“Good! I mean, I’m well. Tired, but well!” Oh God, were you stuttering?

“Yeah, overnight shifts can do that to you. Do you know these men…?” he hesitated, mostly indicating to Jisung rather than the unconscious patient on the bed.

“Close family friends.” At least you weren’t lying. “How is Mingi?”

“He didn’t lose too much blood. He has his stitches, so once he wakes up he’s ready to leave whenever.”

“And the reason for the IV?”

“He seemed dehydrated, which may be the reason he’s unconscious. Rather than fainting from blood loss, he fainted from the sight of it. The IV should help him recover and get his fluids in check quicker.”

You couldn’t help your face from falling flat. God, what kind of weak men did your Dad employ nowadays that they couldn’t even stop an ambush and fainted from the sight of their own blood!? Really, it was unbelievable, and even Jisung thought the synopsis was ridiculous.

“Thank you for the debrief. I’ll take it from here.”

“Sounds good.” Dr. San headed towards the door, but stopped himself and laid a hand on your shoulder. You instantaneously tensed up and prayed it went unnoticed, though Dr. San was known for paying close attention to the small details. “Call me if you ever need anything,” he said. And then he was gone.

“S-Sounds good!” you called out the door.

“He reminds me of those doctors on all the dramas,” Jisung scoffed. “Totally theatrical with that exit. What’s with that guy? Is he in love with you, or something?”

“More like the other way around… Although rumor has it the day you dropped me off a couple of weeks ago, he was not too happy to see that. Why, are you jealous?”

“You like that guy!? Why!?”

“He’s a smoking hot doctor, what else can I say?”

“He has no personality! Where’s the gall? The entertainment? What a bore… so he’s threatened by me, huh?”

“He… may be jealous because I may or may not have told a few friends that you’re this guy I’ve been seeing…”

“Oh?”

Jisung got up from his seat with the widest smirk on his playful little lips. Even his strut to you was playful, like you boosted his ego out of this atmosphere and into another one. He ended up centimeters in front of you, leaning his face in to see if he could get some sort of reaction out of you the same way Dr. San did, but better because HE was better. He heard your breath hitch in your throat and that was all he needed.

“I don’t remember consenting to this, Princess.”

“I know, I’m sorry! I got a little too excited hearing Dr. San was jealous… And everyone would not shut up about asking if I was seeing anyone.”

“Are you even seeing someone?”

“No, but whenever I said no, all the nurses tried to set me up with their sons so before I trapped myself into a series of bad blind dates, I lied and said yes and now here we are… But by next week, everyone will forget I ever said anything, so there’s no need to be upset, right?”

“Does that mean I win in the end?”

“Win what, against Dr. San?”

“Mhm.”

“I mean, I guess? I didn’t think this situation called for a winner or loser…”

“Silly girl, there’s always a winner and a loser no matter the circumstance. And like hell am I going to lose you to a guy like that. I always win in the end, anyways. So if you must, by all means say I’m your incredibly sexy, irresistible, and delicious boyfriend.”

“Jeez, are you always this competitive? And I’m not a trophy…” you muttered. “Why don’t you go home and get some rest? It seems like you’ve had a long day.”

“I did, but I’m not tired. When does your shift end?”

“At six in the morning.”

“I’ll wait for you. You look like you could use the company and we can get breakfast after.”

You wanted to object, and maybe it’s because you’re a little disoriented due to lack of sleep or because breakfast sounds so good right now, but you didn’t. “I’d like that.”

“See, look at us getting along. Your father will be happy to hear about this.”

“Oh, he’ll be ecstatic.”

“Why the hyperbole?”

“If he hears stuff like I’m getting along with his Hitman or anything remotely related to The Business then he’ll think I’m that much closer to taking over.”

“And that’s the last thing you want, right?”

“Exactly -!”

“_____, get back to work,” Dr. San said uncharacteristically strict while passing the room.

“We can talk more during breakfast,” Jisung reassured. “Have fun with the rest of your shift.”

“Thanks. You have my number for some odd reason, so text me if you need me.”

Jisung’s laugh was the last thing you heard before you left the room with a newfound burst of energy.

Maybe you were wrong to judge him too quickly. He seemed like a totally normal guy, right? But no, that couldn’t be it. He was first and foremost your Dad’s Hitman. There was nothing totally normal about it at all. But at least he acted normal around you. That was all that mattered for now.

The last hours of your shift went as normal other than receiving a lot of compliments of how you’ve adjusted to the overnight shift life quite easily. Even Dr. San was giving you more attention. Could it be because Jisung was here and Dr. San was feeling jealous and territorial? No, _____, you were in over your head… Well, whatever the reason, you’d have to tell Jisung later that he was winning.

“That guy is yummier up close,” Somi giggled brightly just as she was clocking in and you were clocking out. “Good catch. You should bring him to the faculty party as your plus one.” You groaned as a reply and left without saying anything. “Does he have any brothers or not!?”

The rising sun was shining brightly through the floor-to-ceiling high glass windows in the lobby. Your Dad was one of the few commissioners who donated to the hospital so they could redo the lobby and it turned out so beautiful. It was the little things like this that made the overnight shift worth it. Jisung texted you to meet him outside and he already had the car pulled up and ready to go. The sun hit him and his car just at the right angle as if whatever God that was up in the sky was letting you know that hey, this dude isn’t so bad! Give him a chance and be his friend! But again, maybe you were being delusional due to lack of sleep.

Like a gentleman, he opened the door for you once again.

“You don’t have to keep doing that,” you told him.

“Princesses never open their own doors.”

“Why do you keep calling me that? Am I a prissy brat, or something?”

“Before I met you, Mr. _____ kept on referring to you as his Princess. I guess I got attached to the nickname. I kinda like it, don’t you?”

“No!”

“Fine fine, I won’t call you that anymore ~ Whatever the Princess wants.”

You buckled your seat belt extra tight and held onto the overhead handle before Jisung even settled in his seat. He stared blankly at you, unable to believe that you were being this extra and dorky. So he’s a crazy driver, what student wasn’t these days!? He didn’t bother responding - rather, he just drove safely like a nerd.

“See, is that so hard to do all the time?” you scolded.

You had absolutely no idea where Jisung was taking you. He didn’t even ask where you might want to go. He could be kidnapping you, for all you know, and you were letting him! The idea sounded ridiculous, but it was all fine when he pulled up to a local diner.

“I know what you’re thinking - it’s not your typical bottomless mimosa and avocado toast kind of place. But their french toast is to die for.”

“Is that really what you think of me?”

“It’s what I think about all daughters with a terrifyingly powerful father. Besides, I don’t know anything about you.”

“You’re such a liar! You knew my number before I even met you! I bet you know everything about me!”

“Not everything ~ Like I didn’t know you could look so good in scrubs,” he winked. “I only know the basic stuff - like your academic and athletic accomplishments, your allergies, your past pets, favorite color, etcetera etcetera.”

“Yeah, that’s totally basic knowledge… How did you even find all of that out?”

“Mr. _____ gave me your file the day before you came to visit. He thinks we’re going to be spending a lot of time together, so might as well get to know you a little bit.”

“Couldn’t we have done that the normal way? You know, like a regular ass conversation? Wait, I have a file?”

“It sounds worse than it is. It’s actually kind of cute. Like his weird mobster version of a scrapbook.”

The diner looked like those old school types you see in American movies. The booths and bar stools were a candy red, the walls were turquoise, everything was accented with tacky chrome, and there was a jukebox busting out the oldies in the corner. Although this place was a bit odd, it was still home-y in its own way. The hostess sat you two at one of the booths by the window that overlooked the busy city.

The menu was ginormous. There was a whole side just for drinks! On normal days when you had class or had rotations in the morning, your go-to drink was anything with three espresso shots in it. You can’t remember the last time you had a tall glass of cold orange juice with your food. Breakfast was always one of the hardest foods to choose from because both sweet and savory options were just too good to pass up. You were probably just shopping with your eyes. You trusted Jisung, for whatever reason, on his french toast suggestion, so you’ll order that.

The man of the hour already knew what he wanted to order and was flipping through his phone while you were looking. You noticed all of the bloody cuts and bruises that dressed both of his hands and your loud gasp made him look up at you.

“What?” he asked.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Instinctively, as if Jisung was one of your kiddie patients, you tenderly took one of his hands and ran your thumbs over the dried-out scars. He hissed in pain, so they must have been deep cuts.

“They’re just small cuts, it’s not like I could die like Mingi.”

“But they could get infected! Who knows what rusty, dirty stuff you touched last night. We have to go back after breakfast so I can take care of it.”

“You mean so you can take care of me ~?”

“No, you idiot -”

“Are you two lovebirds ready?” the cheery waitress asked.

“Huh? Lovebirds?” You guessed it did kind of look that way because of how you were holding Jisung’s hand, but didn’t the scrubs and his blood (was it even HIS blood?) sort of prompt a stranger’s eyes that you guys weren’t together? … Ok, maybe not. “We’re not -”

“Yes, we’re ready!” Jisung held onto your hand tightly before you could pull away. He didn’t have to look at your face to know you were mortified and that only made him stifle his giggle. “I’ll have the cinnamon french toast special. How about you, baby?”

Hey Google, what’s the cruelest way to kill your Dad’s Hitman? “I… will have the same thing. With orange juice, please.”

“Coming right up!”

She took both menus and the second she walks into the kitchen, Jisung is lying down on the booth laughing it up like a hyena.

“You should see your face!” he giggled.

“You think you’re so funny, huh?”

“I think I’m hilarious.”

“If I don’t like my food, you’re paying.”

A bullet whizzed in between you and Jisung and then there was shattered glass everywhere. Time paused. There wasn’t enough time to cover your face, so bits and pieces stuck to one side of your cheek and you can feel the blood trickle down like they were tears. While the rest of the restaurant ducked under the tables and counters for cover, you were too mortified to move on your own.

From under the table, Jisung took your hands and pulled you down with him before other gunshots were fired.

He picked off as much glass as he could on your cheeks before holding your face in his hands. Your eyes couldn’t focus on one space at a time like you were trying to take in as much detail of what was happening as possible, but the tears were getting in the way. You were terrified.

“Hey, look at me,” he said sternly. You did as you were told, but then the tears started to fall. This couldn’t be real. “Listen to me, ok? Stay here and don’t move.”

“D-Don’t leave me…!”

“I promise I’m not leaving without you. I’ll be right back, ok? Promise me you won’t move.”

You nodded, wondering how could he be so calm under this circumstance? He must be used to it, after all. Before leaving, he pulled out his shiny pistol from his hidden holster and made his way towards the shooter or shooters.

From the broken window, you could hear indistinguishable yelling and multiple gunshots. He was alone out there. And who knew how many shooters he was up against! There was no way he could do this alone. But you were defenseless and had absolutely no way of helping other than doing what you were told and staying put under the table.

Then the shooting stopped. For a solid five minutes, there was complete silence, with the exception of your loud breathing and other innocent people’s soft crying. Everyone’s breath hitched in their throat when the doorbell rang. You heard heavy boots travel towards your direction and that’s when you knew you were the target from this whole thing all along. Daughter of a Kingpin, of course! What else could be the reason? Were they going to kill you? No, that would be stupid. What would they gain out of that? They must be here to kidnap you and force your Dad to pay them in billions so you could come home.

The boots stopped right at your table and you felt like you could die right there. You had no clue what this man even looked like, but he was easily the most terrifying man you’ve had the pleasure of meeting. He didn’t move at all while he was there. It was like he was teasing you, like he was making you wait and then when you least expected it, BAM! He’d drag you from under the table and throw you in their blacked-out van.

Another gunshot was heard from inside the diner and the man in the heavy boots fell to the floor with a big thud that vibrated the whole restaurant.

Jisung was the next face you saw when he crouched down to check on you. Before he could ask if you were ok, you lunged out from under the table and went straight into his arms.

“Are you ok?” he whispered while holding you tightly. You could only nod while your face was buried in his shoulder. “We gotta go, Princess. You can fall in love with me some other time.”

Reluctantly, you pulled away. There were splatters of blood all over the poor Hitman’s face and it was horrifying.

“Blood…” you muttered, trying to wipe it off.

“It’s not mine,” he reassured. “C’mon, I need to take you home.”

He took your hand and the both of you booked it to his car before any of the diner staff or customers could question you. Just outside, the streets were empty of people and cars and sirens could be heard far off in the distance. It was a total mess in the parking lot with five huge ass men laying in their own pool of blood.

“Holy shit,” you said, all wide-eyed.

“Yeah… This job gets a little messy at times,” Jisung sighed.

The car ride to your apartment is silent. Hell, you didn’t even question how he knew where you lived without having to ask you. All of what just happened happened so fast… like in a matter of seven minutes. You’re still completely shaken up about it, but what mattered was that both you and Jisung left as a whole with no major wounds. You had a bloody cheek with glass in it, but did Jisung even get a scratch on him?

He parked the car and did the courtesy of walking you all the way up to your room so he knew you were safe. The air between you two was tense at the moment and now might not be the most appropriate time for Jisung to be thinking this, but holy shit, were you filthy rich or what. The lobby of your apartment complex had a full blown marble fountain smack dab in the middle of it! True, you were in medical school, so your money was hard-earned, but didn’t your Dad own this building, anyways? And of course you lived on the highest floor in the farthest corner of the entire complex. You must have an incredible view.

“Don’t leave home for the rest of the day, ok?” Jisung demanded once you reached your room. “If you have work later today or tonight or any other day, call me. I’ll drive you.”

“Ok, but you have to come inside first.”

“Why?”

“You need to clean up. Your scratched up hands, all the blood, you can’t go out in public like this the whole day.”

“I can do that later -”

“Please?” you begged. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

With your teary puppy dog eyes, how was he supposed to refuse? “Ok, but I can’t stay long.”

Your home isn’t exactly how he imagined it. Rather than huge expensive paintings and fancy golden vases and marble counter tops, your home was quite simple and clean. Minimalist was a good way to describe it, with bits and pieces of what made your home totally you. His personal favorite touches were the scattered coffee mugs, the ginormous fuzzy rug in the living room, and pictures of you and your friends hung up in different places.

You led him to the kitchen table. “Sit,” you ordered like he was your puppy.

He did as he was told while you ran to the bathroom to get your emergency kit full of all kinds of stuff that only hospital faculty could get their hands on. You came back with a huge plastic case and Jisung’s eyes widened.

“Damn, do you have the whole hospital in that thing!? You’re not gonna give me a shot, are you?”

“No, you idiot.”

“Good, I don’t do well with needles.”

“You don’t do well with needles, but you can shoot a perfect head shot?”

“Yes, and never forget that.”

You started at his face, taking a damp warm towel and wiping off the sticky blood. Jisung could have easily done it himself, but it was nice to be cared for like this once in a while - like he meant something to someone. He watched how your eyes moved bit by bit to make sure you wiped his face clean entirely. You could feel his eyes etching his name into your soul, but somehow you were able to ignore it this time. Maybe because you were too busy worrying.

“Stop worrying,” Jisung scolded.

“How can you tell?”

He then harshly poked your forehead. “Your eyebrows make you look stressed. You’re going to get wrinkles if you keep doing that.”

“Sorry,” was all you could mutter out before you started cleaning his hands.

His hands were surprisingly warm - a striking contrast to your icy ones, like your blood was running cold. But they were soft - much softer than his calloused ones, and they felt nice. First, you wiped away the dirt and dry blood. Then, you took out the sanitizing solution and cotton swabs.

“This is going to sting,” you warned.

“Like… A lot?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Wait wait wait - ah -!” he shrieked loudly while yanking his hands to his chest. “Bro, that shit hurts!”

“Give me your hands back!”

“No!”

“Oh my God, how old are you?”

“Old enough to reject medical care if I want to!”

“You’re such a child. Some bad ass Hitman you are,” you sighed before packing up the emergency kit and putting it back in the bathroom. “If that gets infected, don’t come crawling back to me to fix it.”

You take a moment for yourself in the bathroom to calm down and try to process what happened this morning. You got into Jisung’s car, drove to the diner, ordered food, and then got in the middle of a shoot out. Somewhere in between there had to be some indication the shooting was going to happen, but you couldn’t recall any suspicions. Maybe they were just too good and neither you nor Jisung noticed them. Even though that was all over with, who’s to say that it won’t happen again any time soon? And how was your Dad going to clean up all the blood?

After collecting yourself, you joined Jisung back in the kitchen only to see him talking on the phone.

“I’ll be right there,” he said before hanging up.

“Is that my Dad?” you asked.

“Yeah. He wants me back at the office so I can tell him what happened. I told him you were safe and sound here at home.”

“You’re leaving…?”

Jisung walked up to you and laid his heavy hands on your heavy shoulders. “I have to report back to him now that you’re involved. If I don’t soon, you could be in really great danger, and I don’t want that to happen. Like I said, call me or text me if you need a ride anywhere, need to go to class or work, or just want to talk. Understand?” You nodded, trusting his every word. “Good. Now get some rest, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Can you text me once you get to my Dad’s?”

“Are you worrying about me now? A little backwards, isn’t it?” he teased. “I’ll text you as soon as I get there. I promise.”

Jisung left you to your own devices and you spent the following half hour closing all of the blinds, covering all of the windows, and crawling under your fluffy blankets waiting for Jisung to text you he was safe at your Dad’s. For a Hitman, he was acting more like a bodyguard than anything, but you can’t complain. Without him, you’re sure you would have been kidnapped by whomever was at the diner. You’re thankful for him, and he’s great company, too. Your mundane life was a little more exciting when he was around.

jisung [07:56]: I’m here at your Dad’s.

you [07:57]: good.

jisung [07:57]: Raincheck on breakfast?

you [07:59]: only if you’re paying.

jisung [08:01]: Sure thing. Rest well, _____.

You fell into a deep sleep.

The next time you saw Jisung was the following day when you told him you had an 8:00 am lecture. Jisung’s circadian rhythm may have no reasonable cycle, but even he knew that 8:00 am was way too early for class to start! His business lectures didn’t even start until nine! You felt terrible when he pulled up with messy hair and barely-opened eyes, but you were too terrified to travel without him. Besides, he offered! He’s totally consenting to this.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” you teased. You held out one of your coffee thermoses to him and his eyes lit up like the sun. “Figured you needed some of this.”

“God, you have no idea.”

Jisung continued to drive you to and from places for weeks, whether it be to school, the hospital, or even to the grocery store or some general store. You thought he’d act more like a chauffeur than anything, but really he was acting more like your husband.

Grocery shopping often went like this:

“Kale? Really?” he gagged. “Can’t you buy some good food? You know, like meat and beer.”

“Do you live at my apartment and eat my food?”

“I will if it means you’ll eat good food. I should cook for you. I bet Dr. San can’t cook.”

Shopping at the general store went like this:

“Why are you buying such expensive towels? Just get the cheaper ones.”

“These are softer. Stop policing my shopping!”

“Quit throwing your money away!”

And then dropping you off at work went like this:

“Have a nice day at work, honey ~!” he screamed out the window. “Love you! Stay away from Dr. San!”

The rest of the week went about the same way and you were already tired of seeing Jisung’s annoyingly handsome face for that many days straight. On your only day off, just when you thought you were going to have a whole day of relaxing and staying home, a knock came at your door. At first, you’re terrified. Only a handful of people know where you live and nothing ever gets delivered right at your doorstep. You take one of your chef’s knives from the kitchen and approached the door cautiously.

“_____? It’s Jisung, open up.”

“Oh, for the love of -” When you opened the door, you pointed the knife lazily at him.

“Whoa, chill!”

“I didn’t call for your services.”

“‘Services’, what am I, a stripper? I know you didn’t. I’m here because your Dad wants to see you.”

“God, I hate it when he does this! He never gives me a heads up or anything! It’s my only day off, do I really have to go?”

“Yes. He said this is urgent. He also said to change into some work out clothes.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see.” You groaned in protest and dragged your feet back to your room to change. “Cute jammies, by the way.”

“Shut up.”

After changing into some clothes that you haven’t touched for months, Jisung drove you back to the Office in Hell. You had a feeling this had to do with the diner shooting earlier this week, which made national news. You for sure thought there was going to be some wanted pictures of you and Jisung fleeing the scene, but all the anchors mentioned was that all suspects ended up dying on the spot. Dad must have done something or paid some ungodly amount to the police so that you and Jisung were completely erased from the story, but you weren’t complaining. You didn’t want a bunch of reporters or police asking you questions.

The elevator ride down and the walk down the hallway doesn’t get any shorter the more you travel through it, but you would much rather have Mr. Hitman beside you instead of eight men in suits and sunglasses.

The second you walked through the door, you’re Dad ran to you and hugged you tightly.

“Oh, Sweetie, are you ok?” he cooed, checking the scars on your cheek where the glass hit you. “My poor daughter! Those fuckers are going to pay -”

“Dad, I’m fine.”

“Of course you are, all thanks to Jisung, right? Did I raise your pay yet like I said I would?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Excellent.”

“So what was so important that you called me here unannounced on my day off?”

“Right.” Inside your Dad’s fancy Dior suit jacket, he pulled out a pistol that matched Jisung’s and handed it over to you like it was a tv remote.

“Whoa, what the hell, Dad!?” you flinched, bumping your back into Jisung. “Why are you giving that to me?”

“You need it for self defense.”

“You think I know how to use that?”

“No, and that’s why Jisung is going to teach you. He’ll teach you how to shoot a gun, defend yourself if someone tries to kidnap you, the whole package.”

“Dad, you know I don’t want to be involved in this any more than I already am!” you whined, refusing to take the gun. “I’m digging a deeper hole for myself the more I’m around either of you. I can’t be doing this kind of stuff, I’m about to graduate!”

“I know. You know I fully support the life you chose as a doctor and I did my best to separate this lifestyle from you. But now you’re involved. People know your name, your face, where you work, and it’s my fault and there’s nothing I can do about it other than to give you what you need to protect yourself. I can’t let you walk around defenseless. Can you do this for me?”

You hated that he was right. If you were to walk away, he’d probably have Jisung and a bunch of his other men escort you everywhere you go and that’s the last thing you want. Reluctantly, you took the pistol from your Dad’s hands and he couldn’t look any prouder. You know the doljabi test that babies take when they turn one? The one with a pencil, some money, a sports-related thing, and various other objects that predicted the fate of your future? You’re almost positive your Dad snuck in a gun or a knife in there somewhere and your dumb ass took it so now fate was playing games with you and here you were with a heavy pistol in your hands.

“Jisung’s going to drive you to the shooting range and then to the gym for self defense. Sound good?”

“Do I even have a choice?”

“You know I love you, right? Do this for me if you love me, too.”

“... Ok. Love you, too, Dad.”

He held you tightly one last time before you left with Hitman slash bodyguard slash self-defense trainer Jisung. He was silent for a bit thinking that saying anything would ruin the sentimental moment you were cherishing, but by the way you eyed the new toy in your hands, he figured he had to distract you somehow.

“Some couples have matching clothes, but you and I have matching pistols,” he teased, lifting his shirt to reveal the same one on his holster.

“Tch, couple. As if.”

“What, you don’t think we’d make a cute couple? The waitress at the diner thought so.”

“A Hitman and his boss’s daughter. Sounds like a drama.”

“I’d watch sixteen hours of it.”

The shooting range was indoors, so the drive didn’t take you out of the city. The inside was all black with the targets that you could barely see at the opposite side of the room. For a place colored black and filled with guns, you thought it’d be scarier, but somehow it was familiar. Jisung led you to the one all the way down at the end.

“Ready to play?” he asked while hanging up the target for you.

“No. I’m terrified, actually.”

“You’ve never shot a gun before?”

“Does it look like I have?”

“Right… Show me how you think you should stand.”

You awkwardly did your best to have your back straight, feet facing towards the target, and aimed your gun straight ahead with your arms straight.

“That’s good if you were just shooting here and not moving, but you’ll be moving a lot. Turn your hips like this.”

Jisung had his hands on your hips before you know it and if this was anyone besides him, you might have blushed a deep red. But simply because this was him, you can’t get over how overused this drama-style flirting situation was. He guided your hips to face slightly to the side and kept your torso facing forward.

“You want your hips to face the side so you can quickly turn around and shoot someone from behind if you need to. Does that make sense?”

His fingertips creeped under your shirt on accident and touched your skin. You felt the goosebumps travel through your arms. “Y-Yup!”

“Ok then. Lift up your arms.” His hands made sure your elbows were bent and shoulders steady before returning to ghost the skin of your waist. “Ready, aim, shoot.”

You pulled the trigger and the bullet totally missed.

The breath of Jisung’s hyena laugh tickled your ear and you couldn’t help but laugh, too. You hit him in the chest with your free hand.

“Don’t laugh at me!”

“I can’t help it! You were totally off!”

“Ugh, ok let me try again.”

Again and again you readied, aimed, and fired and the closest you got to a good shot was the shoulder. Your playlist the entire time was a grown man’s giggle.

“You’re kind of cute when you’re shooting. Like the personification of ‘pew pew’.”

“If we were to leave this facility and get into a shoot out, I would not survive, so can you please shut up and help me!?”

“Ok ok! Maybe it’ll be easier if you square out your hips like this.” Mr. Professional Hitman applied more pressure to his grip on your hips and evened out the spacing of your feet and the angle of your hips.

“Does that feel better?” he whispered.

Whoa, your heart was beating fast. “U-Uh, I-I guess…”

“Ok. Try one more time and we can try again some other day.”

You would rather die than try again some other day, so you focused all of whatever energy you had left into this one final shot. You pulled the trigger and the bullet whizzed through the target’s chest slightly to its left.

Jisung whistled, impressed that you caught on. “Right through the heart, baby.”

“Fuck yeah, finally.”

“I guess that’ll do for now. Ready for self-defense training?”

“Now? Like, right now?”

“It’s now or never. C’mon, the gym’s close by.”

Actually, the gym was right across the street. Jisung told you to go to the room that was under your Dad’s name and that he’d meet you after he was done changing into his own gym clothes. The room in your name had the floors covered in gross gym mats and all of the walls were mirrors. It reminded you of a boxing gym, but without all of the equipment. It was kind of creepy.

The door opened to reveal Jisung in sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt - completely different than his normal black jeans and leather jacket get-up. This time you could clearly see his biceps and deltoids and you had to force yourself to look away before he caught you. It was too late. You were never going to hear the end if this.

“Like what you see, Princess?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your high-pitched voice gave you away. “I understand the gun training, but do I really need self-defense training? Do you really think I could defend myself against some huge dude?”

“I highly doubt that you can, but that’s why I’m going to show you some basic tips and tricks. Ready?”

“No.”

“That’s the spirit. So tell me this, Princess. If I’m walking up to you with my hands grabbing your arms so you don’t hit back, what will you do?”

Jisung did just as he described and took hold of both of your wrists so tightly that it was hard to believe he was playing with you. “I’d kick you in your nuts,” you said, fake-kneeing him and making him flinch.

“Ah, careful! Good, that was the right answer. What if I have my hands on your neck and try to cut off your circulation?”

His hand found his way to your neck. Rather than thinking of the right answer, you were thinking of something slightly less appropriate. Only slightly… should this be feeling good?

“_____ ~” Jisung teased. “What’s your answer?”

Oh, right. “U-Uh, aim for your eyes.”

“Good girl.”

You couldn’t recall how long you and Jisung were practicing, but you’re sure you had bruises on weird places of your body right now because for questions that you couldn’t answer, Bad Ass Hitman made you the offender and he’d play a little too roughly with you so you knew what to do in that scenario. Somewhere near the end, you’re sweaty, tired, frustrated, and ready to go home.

“Jisung, I’m tired,” you whined.

“I know, but we have to keep going for a little longer. I have to go through everything on the list Mr. _____ gave me.”

“Can’t we do that another time? I need food, I need a shower, and I need sleep before work tomorrow.”

“We can’t fall short on this, _____. You and I got lucky that no one touched you at the diner. But what am I to do if I’m not with you and someone takes you away, hm? Your Dad will be devastated! And I’ll never forgive myself for not taking the time to help you defend yourself.”

“I can defend myself! I’m not totally helpless you know! I answered most of those questions right, didn’t I? I don’t need you to babysit me all the time just because my Dad told you to. You don’t have to act like you care, in fact you didn’t have to do anything involving me ever. Just lie to my Dad and say you did and hell, I’ll even be your alibi, but stop acting like you care about me when really you’re just looking for my Dad’s approval and that approval is gone the second you step away from me, right?”

The air was tense. Then Jisung walked up to you, swept his feet from under you so you’d fall on your ass, and towered over you. His legs were on both sides of your hips so you couldn’t move your legs and his hands were occupied with pinning your arms to the mat. Everything happened in less than a second and it took you a couple more to adjust your eyes and realize what happened. You focused on Jisung’s face. His lips are pursed, brows furrowed, and overall he looked hurt.

“If I’m the enemy trying to take you away from me and I have you in a hold like this, how are you going to escape?”

Take you away from him?

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t because what he thought about you all along was right - you were just the weak, defenseless, stuck up daughter of his boss. You felt like crying, but that would only further confirm his speculations, so you held it in.

But that’s not what he thought about you at all. You may be this little Princess he’s looking out for, but if anything were to happen to you, he wouldn’t know what to do. He’d probably go on some rampage, thinking irrationally and only doing what he could to get to you or find you or whatever these other mobsters wanted with you. He couldn’t let anything happen to you. He wouldn’t. He didn’t know what to do with this effect you had on him, but it was his fault for deciding to roll with it.

It’s been a minute since Jisung asked you the question. Since that time has passed, you noticed his face softened and you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He was hurt - you said right to his face that you thought he didn’t genuinely care about it you at all. He couldn’t blame you, because you were right - this all started out because he was protecting you the way your Dad had ordered him to. But wasn’t it more than that by now?

You’re still pinned down and even when both of you realized it, neither of you moved from your positions. Instead, as if from the pull of the Earth’s core, Jisung leaned down almost too slowly. So slowly that you even bothered to strain your neck and meet his lips halfway.

His hands tightened their grip on your wrists like he was afraid you’d slip away. His lips were soft, and they were sweet like cherry-flavored candy. You tasted sweet, too, but more like honey. He could kiss you for hours. He should have done this earlier.

Your ringtone echoed through the room.

“Phone!” you yelped in a panic, crawling out from under Jisung. Your fingers were all twitchy and had a hard finding your phone in your bag. “H-Hi, Dr. San?”

Jisung involuntarily chewed on the inside of his cheek when he heard that name coming from your lips.

“Right now? Can you give me an hour? Ok, thank you, I’ll be there soon.” When you turned back to look at Jisung, he was already packing his gym bag. “I got called into work.”

“Ok,” he said briefly. He sounded annoyed.

Again, the car ride was silent and awkward. Jisung had been good about driving safely while you were with him, but today he went back to his old ways, like the very first time he drove you to the hospital. You looked at him and was going to ask what was up, but he looked angry. Did he regret what just happened in the gym…?

No, it wasn’t that. It was that stupid handsome Dr. San who ruined his one and only perfectly imperfect kiss with you and you jumped at the opportunity to answer the phone and get away. What a childish way reason for him to be bad.

“I… didn’t mean what I said earlier,” you began awkwardly. “I don’t think of you as a babysitter or someone who sucks up to my Dad like that… I’m sorry.”

Jisung sighed. “Then what am I to you?”

You couldn’t answer that.

Even though he was annoyed, Jisung still opened the door for you, but avoided eye contact once you arrived at the hospital. You said your quick goodbyes and he watched you walk in just like every other time just so he knew you were one hundred and ten percent safe inside.

Halfway to the door, you turned around.

“Would you want to go with me to a party next weekend?” you asked quickly like a high school girl asking out her crush.

Jisung did his lovable eyebrow raise. “Go with you? As what, your bodyguard?”

“No. As my date.”

“Whoa, as your date?” You couldn’t tell if he was smirking because he was scoffing and couldn’t believe you would ask him such a stupid question or because you sent his ego into space again. You hoped for the latter. “Why don’t you ask your precious Dr. San?”

“I kind of don’t want to go with him.”

“Why not?”

“Because I kind of want to go with you more.”

He bit his lip and you couldn’t help but think about kissing him again. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“So…?”

“I’ll go.”

He swore your smile lit up the night sky brighter than the moon. “Pick me up after work?”

“Anything for you, _____.”

You talked about kissing Jisung to Somi your entire shift.

The next time he kissed you was ten hours later after the overnight shift.

“Kiss me,” he demanded when he dropped you home. Your back was pressed against the door as he towered over you.

“Seriously?” you blushed.

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“What’s the magic word ~?”

“Kiss me now?”

You were looking for please, but that was close enough, right? From then on, kissing was normal. Almost too normal, like you couldn’t keep your lips away from each other.

From the weekend you kissed him to the weekend of the party, you and Jisung hung out everyday all day. Sometimes it was training as your Dad’s Hitman and his precious Princess, but it was mostly as two people who liked each other. The other stuff was arbitrary. For once, you guys did normal things together, like cooking, shopping, playing games, and your favorite - kissing.

The hospital faculty party was going to be the first ‘date’ together publicly as a couple. Jisung always thought the firsts for anything were awkward, but not this - not with you. He was surprised to find out that everything with you happened naturally.

“Whoa…” was what Jisung said when he picked you up for the party. He knew the attire was formal, but never in his time of knowing you did he think he’s see you in something that made you shine like the stars. You were going to make everyone in the room turn their heads.

“Whoa yourself, even if you are in all black. Again.”

“I’m sexy though, right?”

“Very.”

The party wasn’t some adult house party or at a dinky banquet hall. No, this one was at the most expensive hotel in the city in the biggest ballroom. Decorated with jewel tones and gold accents, this party was the most extravagant party you and Jisung had ever attended. Everyone can thank your Dad for booking it. Anyone who was anyone was at this party and you wondered who was keeping it down at the hospital, but that wasn’t your problem tonight.

You spotted your group of friends over by the bar and where there was most traffic for the hors d'oeuvres. Typical. You took your hot date by the hand and walked over, finally getting the chance to introduce him to them, especially Somi.

“_____! Is this who I think it is!?” she gasped loudly.

“Guys, this is Jisung. Jisung, these are my co-workers.”

“Is that really all I am to you?” Somi and a couple of others fake-cried.

“Shut up.”

While Jisung was distracted with the food, Somi leaned in to whisper to you. “Hey, don’t look now, but Dr. San is staring.”

“Really?”

If Somi told you this months ago, you would have been all over that. But now you were just genuinely curious as to why. When you looked back, it was certainly true that he was staring, but he had his hot date right next to him, so why did it matter? Something was off.

“Jealous?” Jisung teased.

“Only that you have food. Sharing is caring.”

“No way, get your own!”

You disregarded Dr. San’s stares for the rest of the night. Your attention and affection were for Jisung and Jisung only. Whether it was his arm around your waist or your hands playing with his, there was always some sort of skinship shared between you two and you neither of you wanted to separate any time soon. So he took the initiative to pull you to the dance floor.

“Does my Dad’s Hitman know how to dance?”

“Of course! There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, baby.”

“I’ll know all of them eventually.”

“Ok, bet.”

The songs changed from upbeat bops, to goofy bops, then finally ended with the slow and sexy songs allowing Jisung to hold you close like he always wanted to. He’s done so behind closed doors a few times already, but this was different. He got to show you off to the whole world. To your friends, to strangers, and especially to Dr. San.

“Safe to say that I won, right?” Jisung asked, referring to the night that Mingi got stabbed.

“By a landslide.”

“What do I get?”

“Another kiss ~?”

“You know me so well.”

Your man dipped his head down and kissed you with all of the passion he held in every cell of his body. Even during the kiss, you could feel yourself getting light headed and all the blood went to your cheeks.

“Whoa,” you said once he pulled away. “When did you learn how to do THAT?”

“Like I said, there’s a lot of things you don’t know ~”

“I think I need a drink after that.”

His cute laugh rang in your ears. “Ok, I’ll be at our table.”

You got a couple of sodas for you and your date so you could boost your blood sugar back up. While waiting, you overlooked the entire room full of people you worked. Even then, your eyes still found their way to Jisung. He was happily talking to Somi and the rest of the girls probably talking about how you two met. As if knowing you were looking, he returned your gaze and did his cute little wink so he could see you blush again. Well, it worked, because now you were smiling like an idiot and staring at your shoes.

“_____,” Dr. San said, tearing you away from your thoughts.

The handsome man was smiling down at you when you looked up. He was wasn’t with his date at the moment, so it was just you two.

“Dr. San, hi. How are you?” you asked.

“I’m doing well. Yourself?”

“I’m doing very well.”

“Really? I knew there was something different about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re smiling a lot more. Your cheeks are practically glowing. It’s charming.” Cutely, he pinched your cheek.

You didn’t think anything of it, but oh man, did Jisung think otherwise. Now he was angry. It wasn’t your fault, and maybe he shouldn’t even be angry in the first place, but like HELL was he going to let some fucking tacky-ass doctor be friendly with you like that.

“Is someone else making you blush the way I used to?” Dr. San asked.

“I-I guess? You knew about that?”

“Of course. I thought you were cute, too. I could still make you feel that way.”

“Dr. San…?”

He took steps closer to you. “You should be with a real man.”

Just in time, Jisung stepped in between before this creep could touch you again.

“Back off,” Jisung sneered. Uh-oh, this wasn’t going to end well…

“I’m not doing anything,” Dr. San said calmly. “We’re just talking.”

“It doesn’t look that way to me.”

“You’re just a thug. What are you even doing here? She’s too good for you.”

Before Jisung could land a punch on him, you held him by the waist and laid your chin on his shoulder. That stopped him dead in his tracks and he hated how weak he fell when you held him like that.

“Don’t do it,” you whispered. “He’s not worth it. Let’s go home, ok?”

Your Hitman didn’t answer. Rather he took your hand and walked swiftly towards the exit.

“See you Monday, _____ ~” Dr. San sang tauntingly.

“What an asshole… Can’t believe I ever liked that guy.”

When you arrived outside, Jisung let go of your hand and wiped the sweat on his nice dress pants. He walked a few steps ahead of you to take some time to cool off before he talked because he knew if he didn’t, he’d say something wrong and maybe you’d run away. After running a hand through his hair, he turned back around to see you smiling and waiting patiently. It was so hard for him to believe he had you.

“Are you ok?” you asked.

“Yeah… Sorry, I don’t know what got into me. Just seeing him with you like that… It really got under my skin.”

“You must like me, huh?”

“Nah, that can’t be it…”

“Hey!”

“You know I’m kidding,” he said, his hands finding their way back to your waist. “I like you. A lot. Almost too much.”

“There’s no such thing as too much.”

Your annoying ringtone yet again ruined the moment between you and your man. Normally, you had your phone on silent, but you only let it ring when important people like your Dad, Jisung, and Dr. San were texting you. You checked and saw it was a message from Dr. San.

He sent you a picture of your Dad in a room with no windows tied up to a chair and beaten bloody with only “₩10B by 3AM” and an unknown address written.

“J-Ji-Jisung…” you stuttered. “W-What does this mean…?”

“What’s wrong?” His eyes narrowed at the image on your phone. Now he was furious. He knew there was something wrong with that guy from the get-go. “I’ll call for our crew in the car. Let’s go.”

You and Jisung sprinted to his car in the eerie underground parking lot. What if Dr. San was watching you right now? Watching you run away with a man that wasn’t him. Watching your every move so he knew you were following his demands.

Panic flowed through your entire body and you were finding it hard to breathe evenly. Your Dad was your entire world and now someone - Dr. San, of all people - had him. What were you to do without your rock? The only man who ever believed in you?

“What are we going to do?” you asked once you both were in the car. It sounded like you were crying, but no tears were present.

“We’re going to get your Dad, but it’s going to be messy.”

“But what about the money? I have it, won’t that be easiest?”

“First thing’s first about this line of business is to never trust anyone. Even if we have the money, who knows what they’ll do in that time? We’ll get the money, but we need to be quick and we need to be prepared to fight back, is that clear?” From inside his suit coat, he pulled out his pistol and gave it to you. “Are you ready to show me what you’ve learned?”

“What about you?”

“I have mine,” he said, revealing the one on his belt. “I brought yours just in case because I knew some shit was going to go down. This night sounded too perfect to be true.”

“I-I don’t even know the time…! What if it’s past three already!?”

“It’s 10:25. _____, look at me.” Through your panicked and shifty eyes, you tried to focus on Jisung’s calm and handsome face. It was helpful when he held your hand. “We’re going to find him, but I need you to stay calm, ok? I’ll be right next to you the whole time.”

“Don’t leave me.”

“I could never. Are you ready?” When you nodded, Jisung wasted no time and started the car. “Let’s fucking go.”

First thing’s first - go to your Dad’s office and find ₩10B lying around. That shouldn’t be too hard, right? You knew the password to the safe that was embedded in the wall and hidden behind one of the bookshelves. That was probably what Dr. San was looking for.

Dr. San… Who was he in all of this? Was he like your Dad, the leader of the pack? Or was he more like Jisung, the guy who did all of the dirty work? And why would an accomplished doctor like him need a side hustle like this? How did he even have the time!?

Entering the long hallway that led to Dad’s office was scarier at night with the possibilities of an ambush. Ahead of you, Jisung pulled out his pistol, indicating that you should do the same. With shaky and unsteady hands, you followed his lead. Despite the circumstance, dressed in your formal wear holding a gun next to your man made you feel kind of invincible - like you could do anything with Jisung by your side and look good doing it.

The office really looked like it came from hell when you entered. Everything was flipped upside down, all of Dad’s papers were everywhere, the books on his shelves were on the floor, and the cocaine corner was completely empty. Dr. San’s men did major work in such a short amount of time.

“The safe is behind the shelf,” Jisung instructed. “I’ll watch your back while you open it.”

“You know about that safe? And know that I know the code?”

“Mr. _____ trusted me almost too much.”

The safe combination was rotated between yours and your Dad’s social security number and you had to get it right in three tries or else you were locked out for twenty-four hours. This time it was yours. You’ve never opened it before or even knew what was in it, so when you opened it both you and Jisung could not believe how much money was stashed.

“So this is where my paycheck comes from.” Jisung handed you one of the many black duffle bags your Dad owned. “Start counting, babe.”

Even with ₩10B in the bag, there’s barely a dent in the safe. You both knew your Dad was filthy rich, but this safe was downright NASTY. When you save Dad from this whole mess, you’ll convince him to never do this drug stuff ever again. He could live luxuriously and then some with just half of what was in the safe.

The next step was to go to the unknown address. Jisung couldn’t imagine what you’re feeling right now. You must have been scared, furious, worried, or all of the above. With one hand on the wheel, he reached over to hold on to yours and there’s a wave of relieve that washed over you. It didn’t last long when the GPS lead you to an empty warehouse under a bridge with only your men’s cars filling up the property. The second they saw Jisung’s car, they all came out. Did Dad really have this many men in his army? You don’t even think you’ve seen some of these men before.

“Miss _____,” the leader of the pack greeted politely. “What’s the move?”

“I-I don’t know… Why are you asking me?”

“You’re next in charge, aren’t you?”

“Uh… Jisung, help?” you nudged.

“We’re going to go in there, give them the money, and demand Mr. _____ back. Be prepared if they disagree or things get heated. There are two number one priorities here - bring back Mr. _____ alive and keep _____ safe. Is that clear?” All the men nodded obediently. “Go!”

A couple of the men broke down the door. Instead of the building being an intricate maze of hallways and arbitrary rooms, it was just one big, empty gray space and your Dad was tied to a chair right in the middle of it, not moving.

“Dad!” you cried out, running past all of the loyal men.

“_____, get back here!”

Jisung couldn’t let you run alone in such an open room with potential shooters hiding God knows where, so he ran after you and kept an eye out for all hidden corners and crevices. The tears you kept hidden these last few hours all flowed freely the closer you ran to him. It felt like you were running a marathon on the longest treadmill. The closer you got, the more you could see the fresh blood oozing out of his body and when you reached him, you knew why he wasn’t moving.

He was already shot dead.

“Dad?” you whimpered, shaking him by his cold, limp shoulders. “Come on, wake up…! I’m here!”

“_____, it’s a trap,” Jisung warned. “We have to go -!”

“No, not without my Dad -!”

“_____, look at me.”

Jisung tore you away from trying to untie your dead Dad and held you by your face. Your crying and sobbing echoed so loudly throughout the room. It broke his heart to see you this way. He hoped to never see you like this ever again.

“We have to go. It’s not safe for you here. My priority is to keep you safe, remember?”

“But Dad -!”

“I know, baby, I know. You know what we’re going to do?” You shook your head. “You’re going to take over your Dad’s spot. You are going to rule this Kingdom and we’re going to get our revenge.”

“Revenge?” Revenge sounded good.

“Yup. You’re going to sit in your Dad’s office and run that shit like nothing happened, right? You’re going to keep this business running. And we’re going to find Dr. San and find all the other men responsible then we’re going to get our revenge. And I’m going to be right beside you the whole time, ok? Do you trust me?”

You could only nod. His plan sounded perfect.

“If you want to do this, we have to get out of here. Now.”

You let Jisung take the lead by helping you up. He dropped the bag of money next to your bleeding Dad, took you by the hand, and ran. There’s no shooting to be heard, no other footsteps, hell you couldn’t even hear any breathing. Was anyone even here? Why the fuck did they even bother if they already killed your father!?

“Grab the body and take it to get prepped for a memorial. Watch out for snipers,” Jisung warned.

The rest of the men stayed back when you and Jisung left to get you safe inside the car.

“Why did you leave the money? Dad was already shot,” you asked.

“Dr. San or whomever he works for only wanted the money. They didn’t care about negotiating. They have that place bugged. If we didn’t leave it, something bad was going to happen to you. I’ll throw away ₩10B any day as long as you’re left untouched.”

“Dr. San… no wonder he tried to get closer to me. Not too obvious, but not too subtle, either. He knew a lot about my relationship with Dad, too.”

“Like what?”

“I told him I chose med school because I didn’t want to take over Dad’s business. He knew if they killed my Dad, the company’s Drug Pushing days would be over. God, I’m such an idiot!”

“Hey, that’s not your fault. You had no idea some tacky doctor could be involved in this life.”

“Yeah, and now I’m going to be. I’ll be doing exactly what I never wanted in the first place. But this is for Dad. I have to do this, right?”

“You don’t have to do anything.”

“You’re right. Now I want to.”

“_____-”

“It’s ok. This is for Dad - I can do this. I-I think… You said you’d be there with me, right?”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Princess.”

“Good... Where are we going now?”

“To your home. You need rest, you had a long day. Then tomorrow, we’ll clean up your new office, and I’ll show you the ups and downs of this God-forsaken business.”

“I’m both terrified and excited.”

“Maybe you were meant for this job all along.”

“Dad used to say shit like that, too. Maybe you’re both right...”

Your heart was incredibly heavy when you arrived home. You needed your bed to hold all of the weight of your sorrow. Seeing your Dad dead and tied up like a pot roast was one kind heartbreak, but realizing he was gone forever was another. You couldn’t be alone tonight.

“Don’t leave me,” you begged Jisung.

“Do you want me to stay tonight?”

“And tomorrow... Maybe for the whole week... And then some...”

His light chuckle rang in your ear and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Anything for you.”

EPILOGUE

Life is simple. Life is spent calmly after your Dad’s memorial and taking over the Soju business and cocaine side hustle. It took you a while to adjust from med student life to business student life, but you’re thankful for Jisung who helped you with the transition and studying every step of the way. It wasn’t as bad as you thought - then again, business students don’t have overnight shifts.

Being the CEO meant you knew the recipe of the Soju and who to pay in whatever amount. You were more like the overseer. As time passes, you’ll learn the rest of the ins and outs on the go, so you’re not as worried.

Besides, you have your hands full with cocaine, among other things.

“_____?” Jisung opens the door to your office with a triumphant smirk on his lips. “Dr. San’s ready to see you.”

“Thanks, love,” you said. You take your shiny pistol out from your holster. “Can’t wait to see him.”

#jisung #han jisung #skz #stray kids #skz jisung #han #skz han #stray kids jisung #stray kids han #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #ah holy shit LOL finally #15k i wanna die #ok #love her pls i worked hard #she's messy but #yeah

[newnewyorker93]

Blueprints for a Rescue

read on ao3 here

Pepperony Week 2020 • Day 1: battle couple

Summary: Tony gives Pepper something special for their 1st wedding anniversary, and Pepper makes an important decision.

—

“Hey, Pep! Do you have a minute?”

Pepper looked up from where she was sitting, curled up on the living room floor with baby Morgan lying on her stomach next to her. Morgan was giggling and shrieking excitedly as she grabbed for the toy Pepper held out for her - a plush platypus, a gift from Uncle Rhodey and currently one of her favorite toys; its beak let out a very satisfying squeak! whenever she managed to squeeze it tight enough in her tiny fists. The two of them were so engrossed in their little game that Pepper hadn’t even noticed Tony entering the room but there he was now, standing next to the coffee table. He had something held behind his back, a thick roll of paper, and he was tapping it against the back of his leg while doing that shift-shuffling move with his feet that Pepper knew meant he was nervous about whatever it was he wanted to tell her.

Instead of answering his question directly, she instead addressed Morgan. “What do you think? Should we see what your silly father is up to this time?” The baby gurgled happily in response and tried to roll over, a move she hadn’t quite mastered yet, and Pepper gave her back a quick rub in acknowledgement of the attempt before looking back up at Tony with an inviting smile. “Sounds like a ‘yes’ to me.”

“Are you sure?” Tony asked, hesitating slightly. “I'd hate to interrupt tummy time.”

Pepper laughed. "Morgan's got a very full schedule today, but I think we can squeeze you in."

“Oh good. I've got something for you. A present, actually. For our anniversary.”

Pepper stopped rubbing Morgan’s back, a puzzled expression crossing her face. “It’s not our anniversary.”

“I know.”

“Our anniversary is next week.”

“I  know.”

"But you're giving me a present today?"

"A stunningly accurate summation of the situation, yes. Astute as always, pepper pot!" Tony was teasing her now, but Pepper could tell there was an undercurrent of real nervousness behind his words. His voice softened, then, as he explained, “It’s just, this is- well, is about to be- our first anniversary, and I want to get it right, and given my, shall we say, mixed track record on gifts…” He trailed off, giving Pepper a second to fill in the blank. She did a quick mental inventory of Tony’s various ‘surprises’ over the years - when he got it right, he got it really right, and when he didn’t...well when he didn’t a team of construction workers ended up getting hired to rip a hole in their wall so a 15-foot-tall stuffed bunny could be maneuvered through. So yeah, maybe his concern wasn’t entirely unwarranted, although whatever this was at least already had the advantage of fitting inside the house. Evidently enough of this thought process could be read on Pepper’s face because Tony nodded in agreement before continuing. “See, you get it. Hence, my brilliant solution! I give you your present a week early, and then I’ve got time to put together a plan B in case you don’t like this one!”

“And if I do like it?” Pepper asked, amused and touched by Tony’s mildly convoluted approach to problem solving.

“Oh, in that case I will…um, still have to find something special to give you on the day of…” Tony scratched the back of his head, a sheepish expression on his face. “I really didn’t think that part through, did I? Although In my defense, this is my first go at a wedding anniversary.”

“Hmm, fair. You’d better get used to it though,” Pepper teased. “You’re going to have a lot more of them to figure out.”

“Yeah…” A soft happy smile lit up Tony’s face, the kind that made the corners of his eyes crinkle up and he was lost for a moment, thinking about that.

“So,” Pepper eventually prompted, “do I get to actually see my pre-anniversary present?”

“Yes! Right. Of course.” Tony moved aside the few knick-knacks left out on the coffee table and unrolled the papers he’d been holding behind his back onto it, revealing a stack of technical drawings. He gestured for Pepper to scoot forward and take a look. "I made you a suit! Well, to be more precise, I designed you a suit."

Pepper examined the figure on the top page and frowned. Armor would be a generous description for whatever this was, as it looked more like a bikini that just happened to be made out of metal rather than anything meant to be in any way protective. It wasn’t until she looked up, ready to indignantly lay into Tony because what the fuck, that she caught the tell-tale mischievous twinkle in his eyes and realized what he was doing.

“Oh god, babe, you should see your face right now!” Tony crowed. “Just a little joke to break the tension,” he reassured Pepper, “I mean, come on, it’d be completely useless as armor like this, no defensive coverage at all. Although I'm sure we could find something else to use it for… Yes? No? You're smiling, Pep, I can see it!” She was smiling, biting back a laugh because it was just so Tony, getting his anxiety out by completely designing and drawing out by hand an entire prank suit of armor. “We'll file that one under maybe, then… But seriously, as much as I enjoy a bit of pin-up Pepper, this-” he pulled aside the top sheet with a dramatic flourish, unveiling a set of schematics for a suit that looked much more like his own Iron Man armor, if slightly more feminine, “-is your real present, should you choose to accept it." 

Tony sat himself down on the floor across the table from Pepper, giving her some space to study the blueprints more closely. After a few moments of forcing himself to sit perfectly still he scooped Morgan up off the rug and snuggled her up to his chest, letting his daughter’s squirming distract him from the otherwise irresistible urge to start fidgeting and drumming his fingers against his leg as he waited for Pepper’s verdict.

“This is…wow.” Pepper didn’t even know where to begin. She was awed by the sheer scope of the project, at the amount of time Tony must have put into making this for her - there were pages and pages of plans, intricate renderings of every piece of the suit from helmet to gauntlets to boots and every bit in between, all painstakingly (and gorgeously; with so much of his work done in holograms and machinery, it was easy to forget how much of an artist Tony really was) hand-drawn and neatly labeled down to the most precise measurements. “How… You drew all of this?”

Tony shrugged. “I’ve had the image in my head for years, this was just letting it all out, finally. Like an exorcism.” Pepper cocked her head at that and Tony laughed. “Ok, maybe that’s not the best metaphor, but you know what I mean. Besides, it was kind of nice to go analog again, break out the old pencil and paper. And it wasn’t all me! Morgan helped too.”

"Oh really?"

"Yep! Very helpful design critic, our daughter. Here, I'll show you." Tony flipped forward to a sheet that displayed detailed close-up and exploded views of the suit's helmet. "She really liked this part, see?" He pointed out the signs of Morgan's interest - a wrinkly spot on the corner of the page where the baby had clearly drooled on the paper, and a few smudges the exact width of her tiny fingers streaked right across the center of the main drawing. "Tried to grab your helmet right off the page!"

While Pepper fondly examined this father-daughter collaboration, Tony turned his attention to Morgan, giving the pint-sized engineer a playful bounce in his arms. “You really are your Daddy’s little girl, aren’t you?” Morgan smooshed her hand onto Tony’s face in response and he pretended to nibble at the tips of her fingers, making her (and Pepper) laugh. “You want a suit too, baby girl?”

Pepper stopped laughing at that and looked sternly at her husband. "Tony, please tell me you aren't…"

"Of course not," Tony retorted, making sure to sound appropriately scandalized at the very notion. “I told her, I said, not until you’re at least six-” he waited for Pepper to glare, right on cue, then finished with an impish grin, “-teen.”

Pepper rolled her eyes at that, but affectionately, and focused back on the schematics. “What’s this mean, here?” she asked, pointing out the title block at the corner of the page.

“Oh, that’s what I’ve been calling her, Rescue.” Tony explained. “You can change if you want something different though!” he hurriedly added. “Maybe something a bit flashier - you don’t know how tempted I was to go with Iron Maiden; a bit more my speed than yours, of course, but you’re welcome to it. Anyway, I just kept coming back to that first time I saw you suited up, remember? In the Mark 42 armor, how you saved me…” How you’ve saved me so many times, in so many ways over the years, he thought, but left unspoken. “It’ll still have all the usual defensive and attack capabilities, of course, and we can add in whatever fancy tricks and toys you want, but the primary intent is, well, rescue.”

“Did you start building it already?”

“No, I-” Tony’s eyes met Pepper’s and she could see the vulnerability there, the kind he only ever let her see. “I did this for you, Pepper, only for you, and it’s your choice. It doesn’t need to go any further than this, it can just be some art for our bedroom wall, if that’s all you want it to be. But I needed to show it to you either way. So…what do you think?"

Pepper traced her finger lightly over a little inset drawing on the last page of the blueprints. It was an image of Iron Man and Rescue flying next to each other, more of a sketch than a schematic really (although, knowing Tony, more likely than not still to scale and accurate in all technical aspects). There was probably some mundane reason for that picture to be there, maybe to show a size comparison between the suits, but all Pepper could think of as she looked at it was Tony sitting at his worktable in the garage, lovingly drawing the two of them twirling through the air together. Maybe telling Morgan about it, spinning her stories of her parents as knights in shining armor, off to save the world. She could see how much he wanted this - for her, for them - in every line, in every detail so lovingly rendered, and to her surprise she realized she really did want it too.

They’d talked so much, over the years, about the negative side of Tony and his suits - the obsession, all the ways he’d hidden away and almost lost himself in them - but that’s never been the whole story. There’s freedom there, and joy too and this...this, she understood, was Tony trying to share all that with her. It wasn’t insecurity or a distraction, it was calm and careful - and beautiful. Invention born out of love, not fear. And just like that, Pepper knew what her answer was. She shifted her gaze back towards Tony’s tentative, hopeful face. “I think…” she gave him a soft smile and nodded. “Yes, Tony, I’ll be your Rescue.”

#pepperonyweek20 #pepperony #tony stark #pepper potts #rescue!pepper #morgan stark #fic #my writing #decided to post the full version on tumblr too this time :)

[kdacher]

Two Paths That Finally Meet: Chapter 1

Notes: Okay so it’s somewhat long and it doesn't mention the boys a whole lot but it has all background information that will help the story out later. Shoutout to @bunnyhopz2000 who came up with the idea and helped me come up with the plot :) Also, i will be using the hashtag 2PTFM so you can find all chapters there!

Ever since I was a baby, my life was picture perfect. Everything had always happened to go my way, well almost everything. I did happen to grow up without a dad as he passed away when I was only three years old in a work accident, and ever since then, it’s just been my mom and me. Like every other girl at my school, I lived in a massive house in Atherton, California, which, kind of made me fall into the typical rich, popular girl group.

At a young age, I fell in love with gymnastics, more specifically, the balance beam. Going into my senior year of high school, offers have been pouring in from many schools like Oklahoma, Florida and even Louisiana, which are some of the top gymnastic schools in America.

This was my life: perfect. Well, until the day of July 24th, 2018 when my life changed in the blink of an eye.

___   ___   ___

“Hello? Miss. Amber Davis?” I slowly opened my eyes, smelling the disinfectant from the hospital, as I slowly sat up from the cold, leather chairs I had layer across in the waiting room. My eyes were burning and bloodshot from all the crying I had done earlier as I looked up at the figure in front of me. She was tall, with a surgical mask around her neck and was holding a clipboard.

“Hi, you must be Amber, I’m doctor Wagner.” She stuck out her hand for me to shake, then sat down in the seat beside me, pulled her glasses down over his eyes and began to skim over the papers. I peeked over her shoulder trying to get a glimpse but she twisted to face me, hugged the clipboard snug against her chest, and began to speak.

“Your mother sustained many life-threatening injuries in the accident. We did everything we could in surgery, but I’m afraid that she isn’t going to make it through the night and if she does make it, she will never be the same.” I looked up at her and nodded, feeling my heartbreak into a million piece and the tears began to roll down my face. She pulled a couple of tissues out of her coat pocket and handed them to me, then wrapped her arm around my back and rubbed it up and down, attempting to comfort me.

      “Sweetheart! I got here as fast as I could. How is she doing?” Someone’s wrinkly arms were wrapped around me. “Grandma!” I cried as I jumped up and over the seat to hug her. Dr. Wagner then stood up from where she had been seated and approached us.

“Are you the mother of Mrs. Abbie Davis?” Doctor Wagner asked. My grandmother pulled away from the hug and faced her putting her arm around my shoulder pulling me close to her.

“No, actually I'm her Mother in law, her parents aren’t from around here. Katharine.” She stuck her hand out for a handshake and doctor Wagner introduced herself. “So, what happened to my sweet Abbie?” she asked. Dr. Wagner looked down at me “I think we should let Amber see her, and we can go chat.” We began walking down the long, plain hallway leading to the ICU. When we arrived, Doctor Wagner took the key card dangling from her neck off and inserted it in the door to open it. She then hauled a heavy, wooded chair from the hallway into the room, placing it against the wall and gestured for me to sit in it.

“If you need anything you can find us in the cafeteria or a nurse should be checking in every hour or so.” She smiled and handed me a brown wool blanket. “Please Amber, try to get some sleep, it’s pretty late and it will make you feel better.” She then dimmed the lights and shut the door leaving me alone with my mom.

I tried falling asleep multiple times, but I just couldn’t. Every time I tried, my thoughts would keep me awake and the only thing comforting me was the beeping that her heart monitor had which was indicating that she was still alive. Eventually, I gave up and pulled my chair next to her bed. I grabbed her cold, bruised hand and rested my head beside it.

“Mom, I don’t know if you can hear me but I just need to let you know that I love you so much and that I need you to fight for me. Please, mom, you can't leave me.” My voice began to crack. “I can't lose you like we lost dad. Please, mom, I need you, I can’t do it without you.” The tears began to pour down my face again, staining the white bed sheets black from my mascara.

Not realizing I had finally fallen asleep, I was awoken by a loud, beep that didn’t seem to stop. At first, I thought it was just my alarm, but when I couldn’t find the snooze button, my head sprung up and I realized that it wasn’t just a nightmare. As I looked at the heart monitor, there was a straight, thin, green line across the screen. I jumped out of my chair and bolted out of the room and down the hall meeting Dr. Wagner who was sprinting towards her room with a swarm of doctors. One in which stopped and basically drug me back into the waiting room.

About an hour later, Doctor Wagner appeared in the waiting room. She pulled the mask down from her face and she had a discouraged look on her face. “Amber, Katharine. We did everything and couldn’t revive her. I’m so sorry.” When those words left her mouth I collapsed into my grandmother’s arms, squeezing her tight and began to sob. She ran her hand through my long blonde hair and shushed me, trying to calm me down

____    ____     ____

A couple weeks passed and I was finally starting to get out of bed a feel the slightest bit better. That was all up until I was finally somewhere other than my room. There was a loud knocking at the door and I glanced over at my grandmother who was standing up from the couch. She handed me the TV remote, which I tossed on the coffee table where my feet were.

She swung the door open to see a lady wearing a black pantsuit holding a black leather briefcase. “Hello, I am here to speak with Amber Davis.” When I heard my name I reached for the remote to turn the volume down on the TV, and sat up putting my feet on the soft fur rug and began to eavesdrop.

“I’m Nancy from social services, I am here to discuss a home placement for her if that’s okay.” My stomach began to ache and everything around me began to spin. I heard the door squeak open and high heels begin to click against the tile.

“Amber, someone is here to speak with us.” My grandmother announced as she turned the corner from the front entrance.

“And you must be Amber,” Nancy said as she sat in the white chair across from me. She then unzipped her briefcase, and digging through many files until she pulled out a yellow file labeled “ACD.” She opened the file, handed a copy to my grandmother and me, and began to skim through it.

“Okay, so it says here that you were born January 2nd, 2001, since you will not be 18 until then, we will have to find you a home. You will live there until your 18 and you can either choose to stay or leave.” She said pointing to a line highlighted in yellow so we could follow along. “Now if you skip to the top of the last paragraph on the second page it states that you were adopted on the fourth of January 2001 to Mr. and Mrs. Davis. Is this correct?” she glanced up at my grandmother, who looked at me with an ashamed look in her eye and nodded “Yes, that’s correct.”

They began a conversation about the adoption details, which I clearly wasn’t a part of because I had no idea. This had my head spinning and I felt like I was going to pass out. After a good five minutes of trying to work it out in my head, everything was finally falling into place. I always questioned why my parents were both super tall, with brown eyes and dark brown curly hair, which was the complete opposite of me. I had straight golden blonde hair, green eyes, and I was never really that tall. Nancy began to speak to me again, which snapped me out of my daze.

“Okay anyways, on that date, your parents and birth parents signed a form that stated if anything were to happen to your parents, you would be moving in with them rather than a foster family. Since this is the case I have arranged a flight for you on Wednesday.”

“What do you mean, a flight.” I snapped back

“Well, your family is living in Michigan, so you will have to move there.”

“Who are they,” I asked. Nancy then pulled a picture out of the file. It was a family of four. They had two sons, one looked to be about the same age as me.

“So, these are the Caufield's. Kelly, Paul, Brock, and Cole.” She replied by pointing at each as she said their name. “Oh, and it turns out Cole it's your twin brother. Says here he was born fifteen minutes before you.”

My blood was now boiling for so many reasons. One of which, was that I was moving in with a family that picked my brother over me and basically disowned me.

“Alright, that’s all for today. I will see you bright and early Wednesday morning!” She then grabbed the folder, put it back in her briefcase and marched out the front door.

#usa ntdp #ntdp #cole caufield #trevor zegras #spencer knight #owen lindmark #Jack Hughes #alex turcotte #Patrick Moynihan #2PTFM #hockey #hockey imagines

[7-wonders]

As Above, So Below Ch. 16

Summary: Your average, mundane life as a college student is flipped upside down when the man you thought you knew as your next-door neighbor turns out to be the God of the dead. When Michael lures you down to Hell, everything that you thought you knew about the world is proven wrong.

Word Count: 4234

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated, and I’d love if you reblogged and left a comment if you enjoyed this.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6| Chapter 7| Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16: Get You the Moon

Michael’s gone by the time that you wake up, and you’re mildly impressed at how skilled he is at disentangling himself from your mess of limbs without managing to wake you up. You sit up in the large bed, eyes scanning across the room and cataloguing the mess that you left last night. The clothes strewn across the floor are reduced to nothing more than ripped pieces of fabric, and you cringe at the prevalent smell of sex that still wafts through the air. Falling back against the pillows, you notice a note sitting on Michael’s pillow and grab it. It’s written on actual parchment and with a quill and ink, as if he would ever write on a lowly sheet of notebook paper with a regular pen.

My dearest (Y/N),

How difficult it was to leave your side this morning. I could not possibly bare to wake you when you were so peacefully sleeping, and could have stayed in bed with you for an eternity, but alas, the Underworld cannot run itself. When you do wake, Desa has placed some of your belongings in the wardrobe. I, along with my council, will be in the library for the entirety of the day as we attempt to form a plan on how to defeat Satan. Please join us when you are dressed and ready. I eagerly await getting to see your angelic smile again, and will not feel whole until you are once again in my arms.

Eternally yours,

Michael

Clutching the letter tightly in your hands, you try desperately to calm your racing heart as your cheeks burn pink. Your finger traces the smooth cursive handwriting while you imagine Michael sitting at his desk and crafting such poetry. “You smooth bastard,” you mutter, throwing the covers off of your body and stepping onto the cool floor.

Whether Desa has finally given into your stubborn fashion choices or if she is just so happy to have you back that this is her gift to you, it’s a welcome surprise to see comfortable pants and shirts hanging snugly alongside Michael’s fine suits and cloaks. You take a quick shower, working the tangles out of your hair before slipping into your clothes and grabbing the pair of tennis shoes that you arrived here in.

You hadn’t realized how familiar the daily routine of the Underworld had become to you until you were ripped away from it, and it’s nice to be back in the midst of that familiarity. Taking a slight detour through the kitchens, you snag some sort of muffin from a tray and sneak back out, knowing how upset the Eidolon would get if something was out of order in their neatly-organized lives. That’s made nearly impossible, though, when all of spirits are immediately attracted to your aura. If everyone had thought that your ‘lily-white’ aura was strong before, it must be radiant by now. Their eyes, sunken into their sockets, are glued to you from the moment that you enter the kitchens, to the second that the door closes behind you.

Your feet skitter to a stop along the carpeted hallway when a red rubber ball rolls past you. Stopping it with your foot, you pick it up with a grin. There’s only one group that this ball could belong to, and the small chorus of giggles confirms your suspicions. A translucent little girl with tight braids and a gap between her teeth who floats above the ground, another girl with deep red eyes and tiny horns poking out of the snakes that make up her hair, and a boy who looks completely human come rounding the corner and screech to a stop in front of you.

“Princess!” Samael, the small demon boy, exclaims. You crouch down, extending the hand that holds the ball towards him.

“I believe this belongs to you three?” The small ghost known as Desdemona snatches the ball from your hand, rolling it between her hands while she attempts to stifle a giggle.

“Princess, we thought you weren’t able to come back.” You ignore the part where Desdemona calls you ‘princess,’ indulging the children in their fantasies.

“Hmm, everyone has a bit of magic to help them, don’t they?”

“You used magic to get back here?” Euryale asks.

“Something like that.”

“Can you play with us, Princess?” Desdemona changes the subject, obviously not pleased with such ‘boring’ subjects.

“I wish I could, but I’m actually on my way to meet King Hades.” The three gasp, all grinning widely.

“Are you two in love?” “Will you get married?” “Can we come?” “Are you gonna be the queen?” The three start shooting questions your way, all jumbling together in a cacophony of high-pitched, childlike glee.

“You know, I can’t understand you when you’re all speaking at the same time,” you tease, the three groaning as you stand. “I’ll see you guys later, okay? Stay out of trouble.”

“Will you play with us later, Princess?” Euryale asks.

“Of course. I can’t let you guys beat me at hide-and-go-seek again.”

“Goodbye, Princess!” The three chorus, waving at you as you turn and walk away.

The library door looms at the end of the hallway, but your pace slows down the closer that you get as you think. The questions that Euryale, Samael, and Desdemona threw at you all blended together as each child competed to be the loudest, but one manages to stick with you: “Are you gonna be the queen?”

Are you going to be the queen?

Your mind flashes back to the day that your health went downhill. Before you had been placed on bedrest, before you had even passed out at the foot of Michael’s throne. The day of your first judgment session, Michael had made a joke when you asked if there was somewhere for you to sit:

“Once you agree to take your place as my queen, then you can have a throne of your own.”

Was becoming queen the official moment that you take your place as co-ruler of the Underworld? Is it only upon the placing of a crown on your head that the prophecy is fulfilled? You chew on your bottom lip, introspective. For once, though, it’s not the idea of becoming a queen that has your mind whirring. Instead, you find yourself thinking of Satan and, more specifically, his plans.

From what you can recall, the reason that Michael is unable to leave the Underworld is because Satan hasn’t been able to be located. If Michael leaves, Satan would take the throne, both literally and figuratively. However, the wrench in all of this being’s plans is you. You’re what would prevent the apocalypse from happening; the moment you accept your position is the moment that the crisis of the end of the world is averted. Satan is determined to either kill you himself or somehow prevent you from taking your own throne. Surely he knows that you’re back in the Underworld, a creature like himself should easily be able to sense such things. Slowly, yet surely, an idea starts to form.

“Michael?” You call out, pleased at how you can use your telekinesis to open the heavy door just like everyone else does. The four members of Michael’s council, Michael included, stand upon your entrance. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s no worry,” a very large man, at least seven feet tall, with gaping sockets where his eyes should be makes his way over to you and takes your hand. “I am Thanatos. It’s a pleasure to meet you under better circumstances than last, Lady (Y/N).”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” you allow him to lead you towards the table, pulling out a seat for you next to Michael. He’s beaming at you, not bothering to hide his feelings around Zoe, Madison, and Thanatos, his closest friends.

“I trust you slept well, my love?” Michael inquires, sliding his hand into yours under the table.

“I did, thank you.” Madison and Zoe smirk at each other, the identical blushes on yours and Michael’s cheeks making it clear what happened last night.

“So, (Y/N), what was it that made your tone sound so urgent when you first came through the doors?” Zoe, taking pity on you, changes the subject.

“Oh! I think I may have a plan to defeat Satan.” Everything, even the fire itself, seems to fall silent at your statement. Three sets of eyes and one set of empty eye sockets stare at you, all looking shocked.

“Did I hear you right? You have been back for not even a full day, and you already have a plan?” Madison asks incredulously.

“I said that I ‘may’ have a plan. I’m honestly not sure if it’s going to sound stupid or not.”

“Well, tell us your plan, then.”

“As far as I’m aware, you haven’t been able to locate him yet. Is that correct?” You look to Michael, who nods, before continuing. “He obviously wants to either kill me or prevent me from taking the throne with Michael, that way he can take the throne himself. What if, in order to lure him here, we fake a coronation? Once we have him here, then we can defeat him.”

The council members are all quiet, thinking over what you’ve said. Michael absentmindedly rubs circles on your hand with his thumb, and you anxiously study his face while you wait for someone to speak.

“What if it doesn’t work?” Zoe questions, removing her thumbnail from her mouth long enough to speak.

“Satan, for all of his powers and strengths, is extremely impulsive. It’s always been his biggest flaw. If he knows that (Y/N) is here, and that we will be ‘crowning’ her, he will act on his first impulse, which will be to strike.” Michael has the gift to make everybody hold their breath as he speaks, words coming out of his mouth like they were composed by the world’s finest composers.

“I’m not worried about getting him here. It’s what happens once he’s here that worries me.”

“Would the other Olympians be able to come and help?” You ask, wrinkling your nose when they all chuckle.

“We didn’t mean to offend you, (Y/N), but the Olympians refuse to come down here unless they’re forced to do so. The ball that you attended is the only regular event that they attend,” Madison says.

“Screw them, then! We don’t need them. You guys are all gods, and I’m supposedly now the most skilled witch. Surely the five of us would be able to take down one of him.”

“He can’t die, though. It’s impossible to kill a creature such as he,” Michael says.

“We could trap him in Cocytus?” It’s the first that Thanatos has spoken since he introduced himself to you.

“Sorry, but what’s Cocytus?” You ask, cheeks turning red at your ignorance.

“Cocytus is a frozen lake in which traitors and those who have committed heinous crimes of varying degrees are trapped,” Michael explains quickly before looking at Thanatos. “That’s...I’m trying to think of a reason why this would be a bad idea, but I can’t. We could lure Satan to the palace with the fake coronation, combine our powers to transmute to Cocytus with him, and then melt the lake enough to trap him inside of it before freezing it back around him. Nobody or nothing has ever escaped from Cocytus; their consciousness is frozen the minute their body is, too.”

The hope in the room seems to be renewed at Michael’s workup of your original plan. It’s not a sure victory, and there’s plenty of things that could go wrong, but it seems like it just might work. Michael shoots you a glance, smiling at you proudly before standing up from his chair.

“If there are no further points of discussion, then we shall put this to a vote of either ‘yay’ or ‘nay.’ Lady Hecate?” You forgot that this was an official council meeting, hence the need for their original names.

Madison stands, smoothing her dress out behind her. “Yay.”

“Lady Achlys?”

“Yay.”

“Lord Thanatos?”

“Yay.”

“Lady (Y/N)?” You raise an eyebrow, looking at Michael in confusion.

“Um, I’m not a member of the council,” you laugh awkwardly.

“In times of emergency, I am allowed to appoint temporary council members. I have appointed you. How do you vote, Lady (Y/N)?” You stand slowly, biting your lip while you try to hide your smile.

“Yay.”

“I, King Hades, Lord of the Underworld, God of the Dead, and Prince of Hell, vote ‘yay,’ and hereby confirm that this plan shall be set into motion tomorrow at the mortal time of high noon. Lady Achlys shall be in charge of planning all that happens in the palace and during the ‘coronation.’ Lady Hecate shall assist Lady Achlys with her duties, as well as making sure that the joint transmutation will go off without a hitch. Lord Thanatos, having come up with the idea to trap Satan in Cocytus, will ensure that this is a feasible option to keep him trapped for the rest of eternity. The council is now adjourned.”

The rest of the council stands, making quiet conversation as they make their way out of the library. You start to follow, but Michael snags your hand and pulls you back towards him. His strong arms wrap around you, but he remains silent until the door swings shut and everyone is gone. Once that acts as his ‘all-clear,’ he spins you around in his arms so that you’re facing him.

“You were absolutely brilliant just then,” he remarks, kissing you gratefully. “I couldn’t have asked for a better council meeting than the one we just had.”

“Are you kidding me? You were so--so strong, and you looked entirely like the king that you are,” you gush, beaming up at him.

“Your flattery is far too kind. Anyways, now that this meeting is done, and with your ‘coronation’ looming,” you roll your eyes, playfully pushing at his chest, “I was wondering if you would like to...uh, what’s it called? Dammit, I had this all planned out,” Michael hisses the last part to himself, but you still overhear.

“Describe it, maybe I can help you with this modern term that has you so confused.”

“It’s when two people who are in a courtship go out and do activities in order to connect and learn more abou--dating! That’s what it is!” You giggle at his excitement. “Would you like to go on a date with me, (Y/N)?”

“I feel like we’re pretty far past the first date stage, but yes, I would love to go on a date with you, Michael. What do you have planned?”

“I don’t want to ruin the surprise, but I will tell you that it should help alleviate some of the longing that you get for certain aspects of your homeland,” Michael smirks. “Meet me at the front entrance of the palace in twenty minutes?”

“You’re really not going to tell me anything?” Your question comes out as a whine, but the pouty smile on your face tells a different story.

“Well, I would suggest wearing a sundress or something akin to that. I assume it will be warm where we end up.”

////////////

When you had agreed to letting Michael take you on a date, being ferried across a river by the terrifying Charon was not what you had expected. Michael had promised you that the journey wouldn’t be long, but minutes seemed to stretch for hours whenever one was in Charon’s overwhelming presence. To distract yourself, you observe the scenery around you, starting with the sky. Considering you’ve never been farther than the castle grounds, almost everything that you see is completely new to you. You’re most pleased to find that, the moment you boarded Charon’s ferry and sailed off on the River Styx, the sky turned from the eternal dark you’re so familiar with to a normal, albeit overcast, sky.

“Why is it always dark at the palace if the sky changes normally everywhere else?” You ask, leaning back in the boat to watch the clouds float by.

“I prefer it dark. Besides, it’s a complicated illusion spell, might as well make it to my liking,” Michael says simply.

“Would you maybe consider allowing it to be daytime at home? I think I miss the sun most of all when I’m down here.”

“Well...for you, yes.” You grin, kissing him thankfully.

“Thank you, Michael! It doesn’t have to be all of the time, but maybe just some of the time?”

“You called the palace your ‘home,’” Michael points out, avoiding eye contact with you. You freeze, thinking back to what you just said before nodding.

“I mean, it kind of is my home now. When I’m here, that’s home. You’re home.”

Michael wants to say something, but is stopped by the boat pushing up against the banks of the river. He stands, extending his hand to you to help you up. You keep your eyes cast towards the ground, reluctant to meet the fiery coals that make up Charon’s eyes, but Michael stares at him with an unflinching gaze.

“Thank you, Charon. Your skills are much appreciated.”

“Will you tell me where we’re going now?” Michael still has his hand tightly holding yours as he leads you through a field of grass, the green turning brown and dead with every step he takes.

“Do you remember when I explained to you the different levels of the Underworld?”

“Tartarus, the Asphodel Meadows, the Mourning Fields, and Elysium,” you recite.

“Very good. Elysium, if you will recall, is the afterlife for the especially distinguished. While those who have committed unspeakable evils or have sold their souls spend eternity in their own personal hell, the souls that occupy Elysium get to live in their own personal heavens. I remembered a dream that you had quite frequently your first few days here, when you were keeping yourself locked in your room?”

“You were reading my thoughts?” You accuse teasingly.

“I was worried, wanted to make sure that you weren’t going mad or something equally as terrifying. You slept often during that time, and had a lot of recurring dreams, including this one. It...it was the only time that I felt that you were at peace, and happy.”

“The meadow dream? How did you…?”

“It’s always stuck with me. How alive you felt when you were laying in the sun, one hand holding a book and the other hand dipped in the running stream. I don’t know if it was just a dream, or a memory that you held dear to your heart, but I wanted to recreate it for you, even if for this short amount of time.”

Michael waves his hand in the air, and the empty field changes to the meadow that you had dreamed about so many times before. You clap a hand over your mouth, eyes scanning the scene ahead of you as your mind tries to discern if this is all really happening. Michael’s smiling slightly, watching the range of emotions that cross your face: joy, disbelief, shock, happiness.

“My parents used to take me to this spot all the time when I was younger, before everything went to shit,” you mutter, stepping ahead of him and further into the meadow. “It was one of their favorite spots, and my dad almost proposed to my mom here.”

“You’ve never talked about your family before.”

“Never seen a need to,” you shrug, tilting your head back and letting the rays of the sun warm your skin. “C’mon, let’s see just how well Elysium recreated this place.”

Every detail, from the large trees that line the clearing to which patch of flowers grows where, is exactly how you remember it. Although you haven’t been to that spot in years, most likely since elementary school, being here makes it feel like you last stepped foot in this plush grass yesterday. Slipping your shoes off, you flex your toes as you feel the bare earth under your feet. Michael remains where he’s standing, choosing to watch as you take in everything that Elysium has to offer.

“How are you wearing a full suit out here?”

“The temperature doesn’t bother me like it does you,” Michael says, allowing you to take his hands and pull him along to a shady spot under a large tree.

“Would it bother you Above?”

“No, it wouldn’t.”

You sit down against the oak tree, leaning your back against the coarse wood. Although you expect Michael to remain standing or, if you’re lucky, sit next to you, it’s a pleasant surprise when he lays his head in your lap. Michael’s curls fan out, forming an ironic halo around his head. Carding your fingers through his long hair, you hum a tune and watch as his eyes close in bliss.

“I can see why this place is so dear to your heart; we could stay here a thousand years and never be bothered,” Michael mutters, stifling a giggle as you start to trace his lips with your fingertips.

“When I was little, it all seemed so magical. I thought that fairies lived here, and that they were hiding in the trees. My mom helped me make houses for them, and I would make them tiny flower crowns in the hopes that they would finally reveal themselves to me,” you laugh lightly, shaking your head. “Ridiculous, right?”

“Not really. Need I remind you that you’re in the Underworld and currently holding the head of the God of the Dead in your lap?” You purse your lips, remaining silent at the realization that fairies aren’t all that crazy.

The flowers that surround you are too tempting to not make flower crowns out of, so you pick a few of different varieties and start to organize them.

“The flowers seemed to grow in the wake of every step I took which, looking back with what I know now, they probably did. My parents grew tired of me constantly asking them what each type of flower was, so they bought me a book that identified all different types of flowers. I memorized hundreds of them, based on the pictures that accompanied each name.”

Although it’s been a long time since you made such a crown, your hands easily remember the movements. The stems of the flowers seem to weave together of their own volition, the chain growing longer as you decide which flowers would look best next to each other.

“Larkspurs, right?” Michael asks, eyes open and staring up at you.

“Hmm,” you nod in agreement. “They can grow to be eight feet tall, but you only need the smallest of larkspur plants for making a flower crown.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know too much about flowers. I mean, look at what’s happening just because I’m in the same area as they are.” Michael’s right: the flowers are all wilted around his legs, dying from his mere proximity.

“You just don’t know how to care for them yet. I’ll teach you,” picking up another stem, you twirl it between your fingers before changing the subject. “Hydrangeas are one of my favorite flowers; I love the colors that they can change to.”

Michael watches silently, large blue eyes taking everything in. He looks almost enraptured by the movement of your hands, twisting and bending the stems of each flower until they start to form a crown. You tie the ends together with two longer stems, finishing the crown off by interloping some lily of the valley between the hydrangeas and larkspurs. Smirking at the idea that’s just formed, you quickly slip the crown on top of his head.

He sits up quickly, scowling, but you can’t help the gasp that slips out at his appearance. Michael can only be described as beautiful, the purple and blue hues complimenting his eyes perfectly. It’s a welcome splash of color to his dark wardrobe, including today’s black ensemble. Somehow, it almost makes the fearful Lord of the Underworld look softer.

“You’re beautiful, Michael.” You whisper, not wanting to interrupt the symphony that the mockingbirds are conducting in the trees above you.

“I believe that title belongs to you, my love,” Michael begins to take the crown off of his head, fully intending to place it on yours, but you stop him.

“Keep it. I can make another one for myself. Besides, this one suits you.”

“For you, anything,” Michael says finally, nodding and removing his hands from the crown. “But if you tell anyone about this, I’ll have to punish you.”

“How so?” Michael’s face gets closer to yours, your breath hitching at the feeling of his lips ghosting across yours.

“Kitchen duty with the Eidolon,” he mutters, laughing when you groan loudly.

“You, Michael, are truly an evil man,” you joke, kissing him quickly before standing.

“Hmm, so they tell me. Shall we make our way back to the palace? There is, after all, a coronation to be planned.” Your heart thumps at the reminder of the coronation, the relaxing time in the meadow helping you to forget about the dangerous plan that was to come. Now, there was no running away from the fact: this time tomorrow, you would either be victorious...or dead.

////////

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#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon imagines #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon x reader #ahs #ahs imagine #ahs imagines #ahs apocalypse #ahs apocalypse imagine #american horror story #american horror story imagine #american horror story imagines #american horror story apocalypse #michael langdon au #hades and persephone au

[collectionofdestiel]

Life is Weird

Prompt from Chagnon1022: A story where castiel assumes dean is cheating based on a phone call he over heard but it turns out dean was talking to his brother Sam so he could  him advise to propose to cas

~

Days turned quickly to months which unfolded rapidly into years. It felt as though one day Castiel was alone in this world with little in the bank and a less than stellar outlook on life, then the next he was sharing life with who he believed to be his soul mate. Life was weird, he decided, as he procrastinated starting his day by laying in their shared bed with only a wrinkly sheet flung across his skin. Weird in a way that it felt like yesterday he had none of what he had now.

Finally deciding that thinking over his lonely past was only going to make it that much harder to get out of bed, he threw his feet from the bed and onto the floor. His body twisted a little too fast so he took a moment to sit and wait for his head to clear. There was nothing on the schedule for today which meant that he and his boyfriend could spend a lazy day together.

That thought caused a slow smile to grace his features and gave him the motivation he needed to finally stand. After throwing on a pair of clean boxers he padded from their bedroom toward the kitchen, already smelling bacon and eggs.

“I don’t know, I mean, how did you do it?” Dean’s rough voice broke through the crisp late morning air.

Castiel stopped his feet in the hallway, curiosity perked his ears. Maybe it was a work call? It was odd that Dean would be on the phone on a Saturday especially before noon. There was no secret Dean wasnt a morning person, and it also wasn’t a secret he hated talking on the phone.

“Well, I cant do that.” Huffing a laugh, Dean’s voice then dropped to a whisper. “I can’t just tell him that.”

Curiosity peaking ever higher hearing the low tone of his boyfriend’s voice, Castiel tip toed so he could pressed himself against the wall beside the doorway. He knew he shouldn’t spy, and should definitely make his presense known, but for some reason that old feeling of lonliness started to flood his system and make his body feel too weak to dare make a move.

“I mean, I love you, but that is dumb. Just cause it worked for you doesn’t mean it will for me. One, how the hell am I supposed to do that without him knowing since we have a shared bank account and two, that’s like a four hour drive.”

It took all of his will to not gasp, to not succumb to the ice water now plunging through his veins and freezing over his heart. Had he misheard?

Dean sighed deeply and almost comically. “Tonight? I can’t do it tonight. I need more time to… think it over and get everything ready.”

Castiel didnt notice how his body gave out, his knees easily supporting his descent to the ground. It was subconscious how he curled himself into a ball and listened as the love of his life cancelled plans with someone else, someone who Dean loved.

“Don’t give me that, alright? I’m not scared… I’m just… How am I supposed to say it? I’m gonna sound like an ass.” Dean’s words were so tender, so lost and desperate, that for a moment before Castiel realized the weight of it he felt bad for Dean.

He wanted to reach out and hold onto him, beg him to not leave, scream and plea until his soul was nothing but ash. Castiel wanted to grip onto Dean and shake him and demand why he wasnt good enough, why they couldnt have made each other happy and live together forever.

A clank from dishware broke the delicate tension in the air. “Because I said so! Look, forget I called you, ok? I can handle it. I’ll see you at the Roadhouse on wednesday, ok? We can talk more then about it.”

Castiel let the loneliness find it’s home in his chest. He stood up, too numb to feel him going through the motions. Standing in the hallway he listened for the goodbye, the farewell between lovers, before he tried to decide what his  next move was. Was there a next move? What was left in his desolate world now that he found himself where he was all those years ago.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you, too. Talk to you soon.”

Life’s weird isn’t it, Castiel thought to himself void of emotion, that in what feels like a blink of an eye everything is suddenly different.

It wasn’t until a light humming from the kitchen broke the silence did Castiel dare move. He stepped as quietly as he could from around the corner, his eyes falling immedietly on his boyfriends back. Tears erupted before he could stop them, flowed so violently that he lost his breath and choked.

Spinning around, Dean met his eyes. The surprised green soon turned worried and panicked. Dropping the spatula onto the skillet Dean rounded their island and started toward Cas with open arms. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Just before they could come in contact Castiel shook his head and took a step back, the tears starting to soak his collar bone. With a heaving breath he curled his arms into his chest and tried so desperately to claw him way out of his panic.

“Cas? Hey, I’m right here. Talk to me. Breathe.” Dean’s voice was so broken, so loving that it was the final crack in Castiel’s resolve.

Clearing the tears from his vision, Cas looked into Dean’s eyes with no emotion. “I’ll be going to the market in a couple minutes. If you could pack your things before I get back I think that would be best.”

Dean coiled back as if struck. “Wh-what?”

“I don’t think we need to make it any bigger than it needs to be. I’m giving you the out. You don’t have to be so worried about telling me. Just leave.” Castiel turned his eyes downward and took a shuddering breath that burned the bottom of his lungs. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t enough.”

Dean Winchester stared at his boyfriend. Nothing came from his mouth though he tried to open it to get something out, to question why and to demand an answer to this sudden turn. Instead he stood there, in nothing but his own boxers and an apron, barefoot in their kitchen. He was too shocked to feel the way his entire world was collapsing around him.

“Please.” The word was broken and hitched falling from Cas’ lips. “Please, Dean, if you loved me at all during these few years you will just leave.”

“Why?” Finally his brain started to catch up to the situation. And though he wanted to be angry, angry that Castiel was doing this, he stayed calm. He took deep breaths and stayed calm because whatever was happening it couldnt be blown any farther out of proportion or there wasn’t going to be a possible fix.

Blue eyes soaked in heartbreak flicked up to meet defeaning green. “Because I love you and I can’t stand here and pretend that you didn’t fall in love with someone else.”

“What?!” Dean’s voice cracked from the pressure of the single word.

“I heard you.” Cas waved his arm toward the cell phone sitting on the counter. “Talking to your… your…”

“Brother?” Dean finished the sentence with a pointed look. “Just now? I was on the phone with Sammy.”

Castiel tilted his head as he met Dean’s eyes. “I listened to you make plans behind my back.”

Swallowing visibly, Dean wiped the back on his hand across his forehead. “Sweetheart, there’s a reason-”

“Right.” Castiel nodded, feeling anger flare up his spine. “You really want to lie to me, Dean Winchester?”

“No!” Dean shouted in frustration. “I’m not lying! I fucking love you and I haven’t so much as thought about being with anyone since I met you.”

His eyes drifting back to the phone, Castiel wanted to believe him, wanted to stop this now and hug him and live happily ever after. But that wasn’t life. It wasn’t life when his mother used to believe all his father’s lies. And it wasn’t life when he watched his brother be cheated on by multiple partners.

“Castiel.” Dean took a slow step toward his boyfriend. “I love you more than you’re letting yourself believe right now. And I know that you have issues with cheating and your self worth and so… I need to tell you. Even if we both regret it later. But, sweetheart…”

Fingers slid under his chin, a little force tilted his head so that he could see Dean right in front of him, their muggy breaths mixing between them. All Castiel could see was love, he felt as though he was drowning in it, sinking so low that he might never resurface.

“I’ve been carrying around a ring. I’ve been putting a little of my paycheck away toward it for about a year now. And this morning I called Sam because I have been killing myself over not finding the right moment to ask you. So I called him to ask how he asked Jess, and how he knew when the perfect moment would be.” Leaning forward slightly, Dean wrapped his other arm around Cas’ shoulders to bring them closer without losing eye contact. “I want to marry you, Cas. I want it to be just you and me forever if you’ll let me.”

Castiel’s face collapsed in a sob grimace as his shoulders started to shake and he threw himself against Dean’s chest. His body gave out as he cried and cried and let the waves of emotion roll through him. After minutes ticking by of Dean holding him and whispering to him and pressing kisses to his hair, Castiel finally pulled back.

With a shaky smile he whispered, “I want nothing more than to marry you.”

Dean’s lips turned up into a face splitting smile before he closed the distance between their lips.

Years later, in what feels like a blink of an eye, Castiel is standing in the hospital with his eyes trained on a small sleeping form wrapped in a pink blanket thinking that it feels like just yesterday he said ‘yes’ to a lifetime of happiness.

#destiel fic #destiel fanfic #dean winchester/castiel #castiel/dean winchester #hope you enjoy!!!!

[thekit-katniss]

The Girl from the Portal

So I realized that I have shared this once already, but actually wanted to start posting it here hence I have started to re-read it and fix my mistakes. People are enjoying it on AO3, so figured you guys would want to read it too. Alma is my OC for Gravity Falls and let’s just say, her and Ford has some history together, which am working on that fic currently. Also just for future reference, I go by CipherKat on most of my fanfic writes. You guys tell me if you want more of it, then I’ll post the rest, k? :) 

Read it on AO3

Paring Ford/Original Female Character

Genre Fanfiction

Summary Ford has returned from the portal a few days ago. As he starts to readjust, he decides it would be best to dismantle the portal in case of attracting dream demon, Bill. The portal somehow reactivates itself as a girl emerges from it. Ford recognizes her from his time inside the dimension. Worried she may attract unwanted attention, he offers her refuge. But keeping her hidden from the family will be the biggest challenge. However, their past together has come back to haunt them as they realize - they may be more than friends.

“Fine on one condition. And stay away from the kids. I don’t want them in danger. Cause as far as I am concerned, their the only family I have left.” Stanley sneered before walking away. He’d stop atop the stairs, glancing back over to Ford who was giving him the cold shoulder. He heard him sigh before disappearing behind the door.

Ford felt the grief now. How can you be so stupid, Stanford? He told himself. His eyes went back to the mirror they were just staring into together. He cleaned up fairly nice, his tan coat has seen better days though. Its edges were ratty and dirty. Might need to replace it someday. He stroked at the little bit of stubble on his chin.

It was kind of strange to be back in his dimension. He couldn’t grasp that reality was still similar – well besides Stanley making the cabin an attraction and the great niece and nephew who were living in the attic currently – which he never knew about. What a world to come back to. Even if it wasn’t what you expected from it. All that really mattered was he was back where he belonged.

He sighed while gazing upon himself. Stanley must hate him for not saying the two words he’s been waiting for. How long has it been now? Thirty years it seemed like. No wonder they are old and wrinkly now.

He ventured into the basement, punching in the code on the vending machine. The stairwell was tight going down as the darkness seemed to suck you in. Once at the bottom, you pretty much were in the lab area. Machines blinked and hummed walking through where it opened up into a wider section. The triangular portal took up the wall with its strange symbols lining its rim.

Ford seem to become disconnected as his eyes were nailed to the portal. He was still angry at Stanley for even starting it again also using his name. But he still loved him. He was still family. He glanced down at journal one in his hand. The golden hand glistened in the dim light as he matched up his. He sighed while lifting up his six fingered hand.

He turned towards the lever beside him as he went behind it to push it forward. With a grunt, the portal slowly started to expand until it filled the whole rim. Its blue glow lit up the room as he instantly scooped up all three of his journals. He cradled them, grabbing the first one and going mid toss only to hesitate. His reflection stared back at him from the thin gold sheet.

Ford wanted to throw them away, forget about them. But his life’s work was inside. They could end up anywhere in the universe through this portal. And it meant they were far away from him and his family. But he found himself reconsidering for some reason as he just saw his true self.

“God damn it.” He whispered to himself. He slowly sunk down to his knees, sulking in the glow as if to take it all in.

He would rise and place them back on his desk, his nails digging into its sides. His tension was still high from what he had experienced. Stanley wouldn’t understand what he even saw or heard. He could probably write a whole book about it honestly. But thirty years – thirty years is a long time.

He turned his attention to the now open portal. He instantly went over to the lever and pulled it back. It slowly dimmed away until it fizzled out. Ford would sink into his desk chair, placing his hands over his face. He just let his own thoughts run through, thinking about if he should of stayed away.

-

Ford awoke to the sound of mechanical whirling. The three journals were still where he had left them. It took a second for him to realize the location of the sound as he jumped up to his feet. He knocked over the chair in the process as he ran for the lever. The portal glowed brightly when he approached, bringing his hand up to shade his eyes.

On instinct, he grabbed the lever and pulled it back. But nothing happened. He tried again and again. The same results. “No. No.” He mumbled to himself as he quickly went over to his tool stash and scrambled for a wrench.

Once he found one, he returned back to it and broke off the covering with the bolt side. He skimmed the lines for any sign of sabotage. He was hoping this wasn’t Bill’s doing. One of the plugs was mangled with the other, causing a delay on the power. With a quick readjustment and plugging them back in.

He stood up just in time to see a mass form behind the portal. It morphed and danced until it made a full form of a human. Just a few days prior, his family had experienced the same thing. The form moved forward and limb by limb, it appeared more distinct. It would stop at the edge of the line as it skimmed the surroundings.

In a panic, Ford forcefully pushed the lever back as the portal begun to spark and crackle a light show. Both Ford and the form took cover. The form flipped itself and combat rolled to save its landing while Ford slid behind his desk. The whirling grew louder before it exploded into a bright light. It reached across the shack’s windows as it beamed out and just like the snap of a finger, it went dark.

Ford coughed while getting to his feet. He cautiously walked out, his hand hovering over his gun holstered at his side. The form appeared behind a table off on the right side as it aimed its gun at his head. Ford did the same as he whipped it out and aimed. It was a classic showdown scene as they stared heavily at each other.

“Who are you? State yourself.” Ford commanded. He scanned the form top to bottom. It was for sure human, lean and feminine from what he could tell.

“Stanford?” It replied, carefully lowering the long red scarf from its mouth.

Just as he suspected, it was a woman. She had bright green eyes and deep brown flowing locks. Her lips curled a little bit at the ends in a smug look. Something about her made Ford’s visions come back to him. He knew her.

“Stanford, it’s me.” She repeated as if he had amnesia. His gun was still pointing in her way until his eyes sparked realization.

He slowly lowered his guard and his gun with it. “Alma, what are you doing here?” His personality suddenly changed to being more firm.

Alma let out a calming breath before lowering her gun. “I came to see you. I didn’t think your portal was going to open again.” She placed her gun on the table. “So I took my chance and jumped in.”

“You have to go back.” Ford ordered with the point of his finger.

“Why?” Alma asked, looking back at him.

“My brother is here. And so is my great niece and nephew – apparently.” Ford replied, sliding his gun away. He walked up beside her and shared her gaze. “It already weird enough I am here, but you-” He hesitated once her eyes saddened. “This isn’t your place.”

Alma sighed, breaking her eye contact. “But it was my dimension once before too. I’ve been waiting for this chance to come back.”

“You’re here. But, I can’t have you be here.” He empathized on the here with his finger pointing down.

She grabbed her gun and toyed with it for a second before sliding it back into its holster. Without another look, she started to walk away, only for Ford to grab her arm. “Alma wait.”

“Having second thoughts?” She said, stopped by his hand. His six fingers tightened on her as he let out a slight whimper.

“I’ll let you stay on one condition.” His arm fell as he took a few steps back. “Stay away from my family. That’s all I ask.”

Alma turned towards him, her eyes glossed over. Ford still didn’t think this was the best idea. But she didn’t have any other place to go. He just hoped if his family did discover her, they’d accept her. Just like he did.

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfic #gravity falls fanfiction #ford pines #stanford pines #stanley pines #stan pines #gravity falls oc #cipherkat #thekit-katniss #gf fanfiction

[latrespada]

Bite Me!!! - Chapter 1

Pairing: Kakashi & Yamato

Wordcount: 1,690

Setting: Naruto Vampire/Modern AU

Summary: Tenzo, an amnesiac vampire hunter, is now under the care of a vampire cult. Kakashi, the vampire who convinced his father Sakumo into sparing Tenzo's life is slowly becoming sick. When the organization that Tenzo was a part of discovers he's with the cult, they take action and eliminate whichever vampire comes in their way. Vampires from other cults are losing their own members and are after Tenzo as well. Little by little Tenzo is gaining his memory and is trying to escape all this, however, there's a favor he has to return.

Such fluorescence and strength couldn't take cover behind the crawling dark mists. The moon shone intimidatingly on the land underneath it like that of the eye of the villain; straight into the spirit of the damned.

Tenzo woke with a start, unsure of why. There was a crushing pain just on one side of his head that came and went in a pattern. He touched his forehead, and as he looked at his fingers, they were painted by thick blood. What had happened for him to get this injury? He sits himself up slowly and gently, the world spun, and he fell back again. Laying flat on his back, he looked up at the night sky. A few trees blocked his view but he still was able to make contact with the moon. He rested for a couple more minutes before sitting up once again, this time to remain sitting up. He looked around, in search for any buildings he can take shelter in, unfortunately, there was no luck.

He finally pushed himself up onto his feet, though his balance was off, he managed to keep himself standing. On the floor was a Bowie knife, the steel was clean and the handle made from wood. Approaching it, the leaves from the trees began to rustle. There was no wind being blown and an animal would have been easy to catch. Tenzo becomes alert and stands still and slowly squats down reaching his arm out for the knife. From behind a tree, two red glowing lights shine and get closer. The mist begins to fade allowing the moonlight to slip through the leaves of the trees. As the red lights begin to get closer, a man steps out from the shadows and into the moonlight. The red was from his eyes and they seemed to have gotten a bit dimmer now. Silver, sleek hair neatly coiffed to reveal a strong, inscrutable face. His red round eyes set wickedly within their sockets. He opened his mouth releasing a visible cold breath. “You there! What are you doing here in the middle of nowhere? May I ask for a name?” The silver-haired man stepped completely into the light, revealing his glowing pale skin, a linear scar across his left eye, and a tiny mole that laid below on his left cheek. Tenzo stared admirably, never has he seen a man look almost unbelievably flawless. Unfortunately, he didn’t respond. “Not much of a talker, are ya?” Still nothing but silence.

“Are you mute?” The silver-haired fellow approaches Tenzo and places his hand under his chin; slowly pushing his fingers up to lift his head up a bit to gently massage his throat. Tenzo moistens up his mouth and finally spits out words. “I actually don’t know what I’m doing here?” Jumping back startled, the other man stares amazed at Tenzo. “Ah! You do speak! That’s fortunate!” Placing a hand on his waist, he tilts his head a bit and smiles. “Well can you tell me your name at least?” Tenzo stood there blank. Nothing was popping into his mind, worrying him on who he was. “I don’t know actually.”

The silver-haired man notices the Bowie knife on the ground and carefully picks it up. Examining it he notices something engraved on the guard. TENZO YAMATO. “Do you think this might be your name?”. He hands him the knife and with the first touch Tenzo comes in contact with it, images pop into his mind until he finally hears someone yell out for his name. “Oh yes! Yes, it is!” An unsure smile curved across his face “Call me Yamato if you’d like. “

“Tenzo!” The silver-haired man yells. “I’ll call you Tenzo! I like the sound of it!”

Tenzo stood there puzzled but it seemed to put the other man in a good mood.

“Kakashi.” the man sticks his hand out for a handshake. Tenzo grabs it and shakes it. “Kakashi is what they call me.” Kakashi notices the blood, which is now starting to dry up, on Tenzo’s forehead. “Seems you’ve been hit there. What happened?” Tenzo shrugs, he doesn’t seem to remember anything prior from waking up. “That’s no good. How will you get—” A deeper voice calls out for Kakashi in the distance.

“Kakashi! Son where have you gone to now!” says the anonymous voice.

“Over here!” Kakashi responds.

When the man arrives he looks at Tenzo angrily. He sprints towards him faster than a blink of an eye, gaining a grip on his neck and lifting him off his feet. “What the hell do you think you’re doing to my son! You people don’t get it, do you!” Tenzo gasps for air, not being able to speak nor defend himself. “Father! What’s going on?” Kakashi stands there, eyes wide open, not understanding a single detail on why his father just grabbed this stranger he had just met. “Don’t you get understand son! This here is a hunter! His uniform says it all!” Kakashi examines the clothing on Tenzo. He wore a hooded coat long jacket, which almost looked like a trench coat. The coat was unzipped, so around his waist, he had a belt, on it, a pouch meant for the Bowie knife to be kept in place. His shirt seemed to be made out of leather and the same for his pants. Kakashi noticed one thing about him that was different from other hunters he had encountered. Tenzo looked inexperienced. “What if he’s a rookie!? It seemed like he can’t remember much, so I’d make an educated guess that this was his first night on the hunt and ended being attacked! Probably lost his memory too! He didn’t seem to want to attack me.”

“Kakashi we have to take precautions! This can all be an act, he’ll follow us after!”

“Father trust me on this.” Kakashi’s voice was relaxed, and his father listened to him. He released Tenzo for his grip, knocking him to the floor. Gasping for air, he looked at Kakashi. “What the hell is a hunter? And what do y’all have against them?” His vision began to blur as the wound on his forehead began to bleed more after the impact he gained from falling on the ground. Slowly his eyes shut causing his surroundings to disappear and become quiet.

The sound of footsteps and yelling is what wakes Tenzo up. Upon waking, Tenzo burrowed himself into the warm, soft sheets. He rubbed the remainders of sleep from his eyes and gazed out at the horizon; its vivid light extended across a rosy sky. He lifted himself up, and the blanket fell wrinkly onto his lap. Looking around, he was in an exotic room. The walls were painted a porcelain shade and they were covered with indistinguishable paintings. The bed, made of cherry wood, and the window were covered with curtains. The curtains were a thick red velvet that hung in generous folds around the mullioned windows and were lined with thick cotton of deepest plum. However, the room was lit by candles. The small flickering flames were his only source of light, it grew dimmer every moment as the wax melted down to its last.

“For fuck sakes, I’ll go check on him now!” There was a voice outside the room, and Tenzo was confident enough to assume it was Kakashi’s. The door flew opened and Kakashi slowly walked in. He stared at Tenzo and smiled, he tried covering the irritable look he had before he had walked in. “You’re awake!” He walks over and sits on the edge of the bed. Tenzo carefully moved his leg, giving some space for him. “We patched you up, no need to thank us. Actually, thank a girl named Rin. She’ll appreciate it.” Tenzo touches his head and realizes it’s wrapped in bandages.

The candles all finally burn out. “Well, it looks like you slept for quite a long time.”

“How long?” Tenzo asks.

“Almost two days.”

“Two days!”

“Almost.” Kakashi gets closer and touches the bandages from Tenzo’s head. “I think these are squeezing your head a bit, you don’t seem to listen well.”

Tenzo pushes his hand away and pouts. He’s being treated as a child by a man who looks younger than him. “Say, Kakashi is it? How old are you?” Kakashi raises an eyebrow and places his hand to his face into a thinking position. “Well if you’re asking my actual age then I’m beyond four hundred but if you’re asking when I stopped growing, then my mid-twenties. Probably late twenties.”

“Four hundred!”

“Beyond four hundred. You don’t listen do ya?”

“No no, that’s not what I meant. How can you be four hundred yet look so young? And how did I get here? Where are we exactly? Before I blacked out, that man you called father mentioned me being a hunter? What’s that?”

“Calm down there. That’s why I’m here. We’re gonna take you to the others for we can question you and see what you can remember.”

“Remember? Are you saying I lost my memory?”

“Perhaps. You didn’t seem to have remembered your name when I asked you.”

Tenzo falls back onto the pillow causing pain to his head. “Careful!” Kakashi quickly crawls on top making sure Tenzo didn’t hurt himself. “Rin would be so mad if she knew her time and work went to waste.”

Grabbing his arm, Kakashi pulls Tenzo back up. He gets off the bed and heads towards a door which happens to be a closet. “Pick anything from here, and I’ll meet you outside. But please don’t take too long, I don’t need another scolding from father.” He leaves a key on the dresser by the door and before he heads out, he turns and looks at Tenzo. “Also, you later will be needed to pay me back. I won’t tell you exactly what but just keep in mind if it wasn't for me and your amnesia, you would have been mine and my father’s dinner.” He leaves with a smirk and shuts the door behind him. He leaves Tenzo in question, not knowing what he meant by dinner.

#hoetakke-fics #hoeatkke #kakashi #yamato #kakayama #kkyam #kkym #kakashihatake #tenzoyamato #tenzo #yamatotenzo #vampireau #vampire au #vampire hunter #sakumo hatake #modern au #naruto #naruto shippuden #bite me!!! #naruto fic #hatakekakashi #kakashi and yamato

[superleeleehipster]

“I like yer bum”

Random Caryl smut for your friday afternoon/evening/saturday morning/... wherever the heck you’re on this planet because why the heck not!

Daryl had always been an enigma to everyone who knew him the most, even to his closest family. Carol was arguably the closest ones to him but that didn’t mean she knew how his brain worked with everything. He was the most unique person they had ever met in her life, and even now after years later of knowing him, she was still learning something new about him everyday. Whether it’s random quirks he does in the morning or the way he sleeps, she loves finding out all these new details about who Daryl Dixon is.. and behind closed doors it was no exception.

It wasn’t long after their sex life really began that Carol learned yet another new thing about Daryl in regards to what made him “respond” the most. Up until their relationship started, not even Carol really knew what made Daryl tick. You never caught him looking at another woman, or heard him expressing a fantasy to one of the guys. Even when other women were flirting with him (and there were plenty of women who were interested) he paid no mind to them at all, much to Carol’s delight. 

So it came as a quiet surprise when she realized very quickly that he liked her bum...

Of course he’d pay attention to other areas of her body with enthusiasm or tenderness (depending on her preference at the time), but his hands always honed in on her backside at the end of the night. When they’d lay in bed, and she would be laying on top of his chest with a sheet of sweat on both of them, he’d calmly caress her back with one hand while the other sat on her ass, giving it a small squeeze ever so often. Even when their positions would change during the night, his hand always seemed to find it’s way to her butt, like there were hidden magnets between them or something. 

During the day it was no exception either. For the first time ever, she began to catch him staring at her ass all the time, even with people around. Rick had even called him out on it before, and Daryl had the nerve to look embarrassed when he got caught. But Carol didn’t mind it, in fact it made her feel wanted and desired, two feelings she was by no means used to but was learning that she really liked feeling that way. At first she couldn’t understand why because to her, her ass wasn’t exactly an attractive trait of hers. Ed would often remind her of how fat it was, and how it got all wrinkly after Sophia was born. Now she did try her hardest to keep those old memories from turning up, but she couldn’t help thinking they were true. She did have some cellulite in her thigh area due to her past pregnancy, and she felt self conscious of it. 

But Daryl’s near obsession with her bum not only challenged her deep routed beliefs, but they were currently smashing them into the ground. Soon, instead of being self conscious about her body, she held herself with confidence, especially when she knew Daryl was staring. He was making her feel like the most beautiful woman in the community, and she couldn’t help but flourish under his loving gazes.

“I think I know what your favorite part of me is,” Carol said one night after an intense session of lovemaking, laying on her stomach with her head facing him.

“Really,” he panted, laying on his back and looking at her through hooded eyes as he tried to catch his breath. “And what is that?”

“My ass of course. You can’t keep your hands off it.”

He smiled with mischief, not even hiding the fact that it was true, and he turned so he was laying right next to her. He kept her gaze as his hand moved down her back before it cupped one of her cheeks, and she couldn’t help but giggle. “Damn right I do.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, kneading it a few times. “It’s squishy.”

“You like it because it’s squishy?” she asked with a giggle.

He snorted and gave her shoulder a kiss. “I jus’ like it. Always have but when we finally got together... I don’t know... kinda got possessive. I’m lucky enough to gain access to it, so I need to take advantage as much as possible.”

She couldn’t help but laugh before moving over and burrowing herself into his awaiting arms. “I love you.”

He smiled and kissed her temple. “I love yer bum.”

“Daryl!” she said, whacking his chest in mock frustration. 

He snorted and rolled on top of her, making her squeal and laugh as he kissed all over her face and neck, whispering “I love you” over and over again. 

*crawls into a hole*

#caryl #caryl fanfiction #caryl positivity

[beastsoulsauthor-blog]

Beast Souls Volume 2

Beast Souls Vol. 2

By Aaron McCoy

2/26/2015

(Scene: We start with Blaze looking over the sheet. As he hears a rush of feathers he steps outside excited. Stepping outside he finds Argyl arriving with a young blonde boy about 4’11 feet tall. The boy has a bowl-type cut with rough bangs. The boy has a “scraggly scholar” look, a white dress shirt with brown vest (both wrinkly) along with a loosened tie. Think old style London prep school. With khaki shorts and slip on loafers.)

Blaze: “Is THAT him!?”

Argyl: “Yes, may I introduce to you, the young master Eugene.”

Eugene: “How do you do? It is good to meet you.”

(Scene: Holding out his hand for a handshake, Blaze kind of ignoring it)

Blaze: “You’re shorter than I thought you’d be! Argyl, you SURE this the same guy from the sheet? The sheet said this guy was a “Combat Specialist”.”

(Scene: Pulling his hand back Eugene shrugs and states)

Eugene: “You’re more brash, and vulgar than I thought a LEADER would be.”

Argyl: “Easy you two. Yes, Blaze, he is a combat specialist. No one is better at disposing of threats in an effective manor with minimal effort and damage to surrounding area. He’s also a master strategist.”

Blaze: “Strategy doesn’t mean SQUAT in the heat of the moment. Instincts will get you farther in a fight than some lame chess-like moves!”

Eugene: “Excuse me? You do realize I’ve caught twice as many rouge souls as you, and with HALF the collateral damage. Do you realize how much work you create for the society when you go burning buildings and trees to the ground!?”

Blaze: “Yeah, SO!? What’s a few trees and buildings when it comes to the safety of the world?”

(Scene: As they are replying and forth they get closer and closer until they are nose-to-nose)

Eugene: “Sure, burn down someone’s home or business just to catch an AMATEUR user. Cause THAT’s necessary!”

Blaze: “IT IS WHEN I FIGHT PIP SQUEEK!”

Eugene: “EXCUSE ME YOU FIREY FRAT BOY!?”

Argyl: “ENOUGH!”

(Scene: As Argyl yells the two immediately stop and turn toward him hands by their side.)

Argyl: “You guys will HAVE to get along. If you are going be Proud Souls, then this is who you must work with. If you guys can’t manage to get along then the whole thing will be called off and you BOTH can go back to hunting amateurs for the rest of your lives! Do you WANT that!?”

Blaze and Eugene: “No Sir!”

Argyl: “Good. Then try to understand each of you has different strengths. These strengths complement one another. You’ll find this in time. For now, get along for your own sake. I will be bringing you your first order in a couple hours. Feel free to explore your new home and get settled in.”

Blaze: “Alright, I guess its fine, just try not to slow me down in the field ok Eugene?”

Eugene: “and YOU try not to BURN the field.”

(Scene: As Argyl disappears the two head into the house to sort out their bags and explore their new home. The following scenes show the two heading through the house and finding the same exact room they want in a comical fashion. At the last moment both realize they are setting up a bed in the same exact room)

Blaze: “What do you think YOURE doing!?”

Eugene: “Obviously I’m setting up my living space.”

Blaze: “Oh, no no no! Out this is my room!”

Eugene: “What!? No! This is the most tactical room! It is the first room on the first floor facing the entrance lot. A perfect view should we ever be attacked”

Blaze: “I don’t care about that, but the sun will come through the windows at JUST the right time of day.”

Eugene: “Good if we ever are attacked you can just stare into the sun”

Blaze: “and what’s THAT supposed to mean lab rat!?”

Eugene: “That you’d function better as a blind mascot than the leader! You Hot-head Punk!”

Ember: “Remember Blaze, Argyl told us we have to get along if we want to KEEP this position.”

Scene: (Blaze Takes a sigh and starts to continue to make his bed.)

Blaze: *SIGH* “Fine! Just keep your stuff over there.”

Eugene: “Gladly. After all it can be beneficial for the leaders of a unit to share a room.”

Blaze: “Yeah, sure…. whatever.”

Scene: (After a couple hours, while sitting in the kitchen the two hear the familiar flapping of Argyl arriving. He comes in the door before they can stand)

Argyl: “No need to stand. I can debrief you here.”

Scene: (Blaze and Eugene sit back in their chairs after glancing at one another.)

Argyl: “Your first mission will be in the far north. In the American State of Alaska. It appears something troubling is occurring with the magnetic fields which cause the Aurora Borealis. Lately scientist in the area say the lights have been dimmer, unpredictable, and one night they didn’t even show up at all. As you know this most likely indicates a Rouge Soul in the area. We believe he’s somehow using his powers, whatever they may be, to affect the magnetic fields in the area. We need you two to go investigate, find the reason, and if it’s a rouge soul……capture them.”

Eugene: “Hmmm……interesting, to affect such a grand scale astronomical magnetic field they are either a very special, or very powerful user.”

Blaze: “Good. I finally have an excuse to use my big guns!”

Eugene: "That's just the mindset that will get us in trouble!"

Argyl: "Regardless you should BOTH get going. I have feathers that will take you there now."

(Scene: Argyl shoots feathers forward as they touch Blaze and Eugene, the two explode into a burst of feathers)

(Scene: Reappearing now in a land of ice and snow. Alaska a barren coordinate with an outline of a science station in the distance.)

Eugene: "Holy hell! It's freezing! Brain, Jacket." Stuttering*

(Scene: The Brain appears floating just above them. A strange stereo-typical UFO shaped object, with a large-headed green man as its pilot. Underneath the UFO shaped object, a cone of light appears. Within that light; cloths and jackets start being threaded together as if by the light itself.)

Blaze: "Meh, I guess it is a little nippy?"

Eugene: "At least put cloths on to TRY and blend in!"

Blaze: "Alright, alright, I will."

(Scene: The cloths drop to the ground as Brain disappears. Blaze and Eugene begin picking up the clothing.)

Blaze: "WAIT! How did you do that!?"

Eugene: "What summon cloths?"

Blaze: "Yeah, PLEASE tell me you do more than that?"

Eugene: "OF COURSE I DO YOU IMBECILE! That was just one of Brains functions, Brain is my beast soul."

Blaze: "Oh yeah, what else can it do?"

(Scene: Blaze starts a floating fire keeping them warm as they quickly change, and Eugene explains.)

Eugene: “Brain can answer any logical question within reason. He uses my soul as direct energy “fuel” for the questions answer. The harder the question, the more of my soul’s energy is needed to answer. So, things like asking about the future, or questions concerning death and love are too strenuous. He can also manifest “inventions” if I can contemplate their creation in an adequate logistical manner. Essentially, he can make technology from about some 50 to 80 years in the future.”

Blaze: “Most of that kind of went over my head, but you’re saying he answers questions and spawns techno-marvels?”

Eugene: “Essentially, yes.”

Blaze: “That may actually be useful!”

Eugene: “And here I was just waiting on your approval of my usefulness.”

(Scene: As they finish with their conversation and wardrobe change they notice a set of concrete squares in the distance, some with large satellite dishes perched on top.)

Eugene: “That must be an arctic research facility lets go get more info on these strange events.”

(Scene: They approach the plain looking scientific buildings, as they approach the largest Eugene has a surprised look across his face.)

Eugene: “I almost forgot! Our paperwork!”

Blaze: “Paperwork?”

Eugene: “Of course! Why would these government scientists feel the need to answer two random strangers’ questions, furthermore how would we explain getting out here in the first place? We need a cover. I have just the thing, Brain two government ID’s please.”

(Scene: The Brain appears again above them spawning ID badges just the same as he did with the cloths before. The two don their badges.)

Blaze: “Says here we are “Fund Coordinators”?”

Eugene: “Indeed, nothing scares scientists into talking more than thinking they’re going to lose their funding.”

Blaze: “I see, so are we ready to knock NOW?”

Eugene: “Yes, but please, let me do most of the talking.”

(Scene: Scowling at this Blaze allows Eugene to rap the door. As it opens a pudgy man with disheveled black hair, clean shaven, and a lab coat opens the door. His name tag read “Dr. Belliam”. As he spots the two and sees their badges he frowns.)

Dr. Belliam: “What is the meaning of this, we were not supposed to be reviewed for another six months, and you guys never come out personally. Couldn’t you have called?”

Eugene: “I regret to say that a phone call would not suffice. We’ve been hearing about the strange reports of the lights not behaving like normal. We want to make sure this isn’t affecting our investments negatively.”

Dr. Belliam: “I see…Well we have been having, disturbances. Nothing yet, has disturbed our research. Come in and I will give you the details.”

Eugene: “Thank you sir.”

(Scene: The two follow the pudgy man down corridors till they reach his office. As they enter he motions them to sit and offers them hot coffee.)

Dr. Belliam: “A little something to warm you up. No one gets used to this level of cold I promise you that.”

(Scene: The two accept and begin sipping as the doctor goes into explaining.)

Dr. Belliam: “About two weeks ago our reading of the magnetic interplays of the Earth, the Sun, and the lights began showing what we call, regular irregularities. The magnetics are usually predictable down to a T, based on solar flare activity. Yet, every night around 3am, the readings above the frozen lake to the north go haywire. They spike sometimes, other times they disappear completely. The exactly location changes nightly. Also, it’s incredibly dark out there. Catching whatever is causing this anomaly is becoming impossible. We have been thinking of setting up cameras.”

Eugene: “I see, cameras would be an un-needed expense, I believe my partner and I’s government training will suffice. We will go out on the frozen lake tonight and locate where the strange readings are coming from.”

Dr. Belliam: “Are you sure? This could be dangerous we don’t know what’s causing it. Magnetic fields of that strength can be dangerous!”

Eugene: “As I said my partner and I can handle it.”

Dr. Belliam: “Well, who am I to argue with the government. You’re welcome as guests till tonight.”

Eugene: “We thank you for the hospitality. Is there a private room which my partner and I can discuss tonight’s operation?”

Dr. Belliam: “Certainly, I’ll show you two to your guest bunk.”

(Scene: The three head down more corridors until they come to a small room with two twin size beds, two bedside tables, two desks, and two couches.)

Dr. Belliam: “A bit modest, but I hope it serves.”

Eugene: “This will be fine, thank you.”

Dr. Belliam: “If you sort all this mess out I’ll be the one thanking you two!”

Eugene: “We can hope.”

(Scene: With a smile at the doctor Eugene begins to close the door as Belliam walks away. Once Eugene is sure he is far enough down the hall he turns to Blaze.)

Eugene: "Good we could convince him to let us handle it, even better he had not already set up cameras."

Blaze: "Yeah, I doubt normal people last very long against Soul users."

Eugene: "Yes, and the Society clean-up crew are sometimes not so clean."

Blaze: "Very true. What do we do until 1am?"

Eugene: "He did say we were guests. Perhaps we are entitled to a meal?"

Blaze: "Yeah! Now we're talking. Hard to get anything done on an empty stomach."

Eugene: "For once we both agree."

(Scene: Eugene uses the intercom system to request meals. Shortly after a rap on the door signals the arrival of food. After eating in silence awhile they speak.)

Blaze: "So, I've been thinking. Since I'm the leader of this unit, and you're my co-captain, we should know more about each other, right?"

Eugene: "I suppose. More info is hardly, if ever, a bad thing. What would you like to know?"

Blaze: "Your Beast Soul, it’s one of the most unique I've seen. Even its powers are strange. So, I'm curious, how did you come by your powers?"

Eugene: "It's not a pleasant story, though I'm sure most Beast Soul births aren't. I suppose I can tell you if you really wish to know.

Blaze: "Honestly, yes, I do. I've never had the chance to openly talk to another Beast Soul user casually."

Eugene: "Hmmm. A sentiment I can relate with. Alright, I'll tell you the story of how Brain came into being. It starts in the days of my early childhood."

(Scene: As Eugene Narrates we see images of the things he talks about, the bullies, the fancy boarding school, the birth of brain.)

Eugene Narrating: I grew up in a rich family. Naturally they shipped me off to boarding school in Welsh-lands as soon as possible. At this school the dumb kids were praised for their rugby ability and the smart kids were praised for their grades. While I've always been hyper intelligent, my ability to communicate this at the time was less than sub-par. Causing many problems for me. Both with grades, and with bullies. After years of being called "stupid" by cruel kids on both sides, I was broken. I didn't understand how everyone could consider me stupid. Then one day the bullies got particularly cruel. They started beating me, making fun of the way I talked, the observations in class I had made. As I struggled against them I remember thinking "This is how I die". I deeply wished that my mental strength somehow translated to real strength. That wish crystalized; hardened into something real using my fear of death as catalyst. Thus, Brain came into being. When he appeared in a flash of lights the bullies dispersed running confused away from my battered body.

(Scene: Back in the room now food and plates being stacked and collected.)

Eugene: "After that they avoided me. I couldn't help but use Brain for some harmless pranks against them. That's when Argyl first appeared with my warning from the Society."

Blaze: "I see. Thank you for sharing. I understand why Brain is what he is."

(Scene: A rap at the door signals food clean up. Afterwards Blaze and Eugene lay in their respective beds.)

Eugene: "So, what about you, how did your powers surface?"

Blaze: "Well, since you shared, I will too."

(Scene: A couple panels showing time passes and Blaze retelling his story from volume 1. After the story is over we see them getting comfortable again.)

Eugene: "Interesting. I believe our powers were highly reflective of circumstance and innate nature of character. I wonder if this is the case for most users."

Blaze: "I don't know. This is the most talking I've done to anyone NOT Ember in years. I'm exhausted."

Eugene: "That's understandable. We should rest before tonight anyways. Shall we take a nap?"

Blaze: "Sounds good to me!"

(Scene: At this comment they both get comfortable and shut off the lights. Eugene is sure to set the alarm for 12am. At 12am they are awakened by the alarm. They get dressed and prepare for the long cold walk to the frozen lake. As they leave they are stopped at the front door by the doctor.)

Dr. Belliam: "You guys going out to the lake? Here's a map to it so you don't lose your way. Please be careful, and let us know what you find."

Eugene: "Indeed we shall. Thank you."

(Scene: They grab the map and head into the cold night.)

(Scene: Being led by clues on the map, the two find themselves and a giant frozen lake where, in the distance, a strange man stands with arms and hands outstretched. At the end of those hands, black foggy orbs float ominously, seemingly affecting the northern lights above.) Blaze: "It seems the society was right, that's got to be a Beast Soul user!" Eugene: "Yes, those orbs, they must be linked to his power." Blaze: "We have the drop on him, this will be easy" (Scene: Before Eugene can argue, Blaze forms a Fire-Gun Finger shot and lets loose charging from cover. The man turns; stern stone-like features, blonde hair, and tall broad build. From head to toe dressed in an immaculate white suit with black accents and bright red tie. He raises a black orb to the flame, and it's absorbed completely) Blaze: "Neat! But there's more where that came from." (Scene: Charging forward Blaze begins bending Ember's flames to his will. The stoic figure and Blaze dance in a interplay of flames being absorbed by black fog-like orbs.) Stoic Figure: "Imbecile!" (Scene: The figure raises his right hand as a more solid black orb forms, as he does Blaze is sucked forward toward him violently) Blaze: "Waugh!" (Scene: Blaze flies through the air at high velocity toward the man,  as the his broad figure pivots and slams Blaze's gut with a resounding bone-crushing punch.) Blaze: "Ugh" *coughing blood; passes out* (Scene: As Eugene curses, he stand from behind cover.) Eugene: "I've got it! Brain, Rad-Wave Pistol!" (Scene: Brain spawns beneath him in his regular fashion a small ray gun device. He turns toward the man standing over Blaze.") Eugene: "So you think you're strong because you pick on people smaller than you!? You think that’s what strength is? Try me." (Scene: Saying this he fires the gun, as a solid green bolt flies toward the man, he raises his hand and orb in defense but upon absorbing it there is an explosion) Mysterious figure: "Argh!" (Scene: As the smoke clears a purple glowing scar is shown across the man's right arm) Mysterious figure: (strong German accent) "Damn you both! You will regret this." (Scene: As the man says this he uses both hands creating an orb around himself. As it shrinks he disappears with it. Eugene turns to Blaze, frowning he finds the feather. Pressing it to his head the scene changes to a hospital. In a plain hospital suite Blaze lays asleep with Eugene at his side. Blaze slowly wakes.) Blaze: "Where, where am I?" Eugene: "In the hospital they have on this research base." Blaze: "What happened to the Rouge Soul?" Eugene: "I hurt him badly, but he escaped." Blaze: "Damnit, I wasn't strong enough!" Eugene: "Strength had nothing to do with it, you still don't see do you? He controlled gravity. His orbs sucked the oxygen out of your flames! That is WHY they were useless." Blaze: "...Then how did you defeat him." Eugene: "As soon as I realized what his power was, I knew what could stop him. An unstable particle under insanely high pressure becomes an atom bomb, so I fired a radioactive particle into his black orb." Blaze: "You defeated him in one shot..." (Scene: After this profound statement, Eugene nods softly as Blaze turns to look out the window. A long silence passes between them.) Blaze: "I'm sorry. I realize why you were made my co-captain. How you show your strength is different, but I respect it." Eugene: "No need for apologies. I thank you for the compliment. I admire your physical raw power as well. Between the two of us...there is nothing we cannot do." (Scene: Hearing this Blaze smiles, nods his head.) Blaze: "Thanks for saving my life, and next time we won't let our mark get away. Teamwork first from now on." (Scene: Saying this Blaze outstretches his hand) Eugene: "Teamwork first" (Scene: Eugene shakes firmly as the issue closes with a shot of them determinedly staring at one another smiling.)

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