#in the lounge car which was freezing but the person who had the seat next to my assigned seat looked so (relatively) comfy

[yloiseconeillants]

Anyway, here’s my preferred volcano.

#shasta beloved #still in california but i did get like 4 hours of sleep this time #in the lounge car which was freezing but the person who had the seat next to my assigned seat looked so (relatively) comfy #i couldn’t fuck up their precious and precarious coach car sleep

[streetlight11]

Birthday Gift

Summary: If you told your younger self 4 years ago that you would be in a happy, long distance relationship with someone who lives miles away from you up till today, your younger self would have laughed at you. But here you are, 4 years later, happy and totally in love with the boy you met online after he randomly followed you on social media. But you've never once met him in person. On your 24th birthday, you were getting a birthday gift that you never thought you would receive so soon.

Theme: long distance relationship au, strangers to lovers

Genre: super fluffy

WC: 2k

Pairing: Bae Jacob x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hello! This has been in my drafts for quite a bit so here it is. This fic is too too fluffy, even for me who wrote this. Cobie is such a sweetheart, I can't-... Anyways, I hope you like this as much as I enjoy writing it! :)

Being in a long distance relationship is difficult as it needs to have a huge amount of trust, understanding, discipline and a lot of reassurance. However, despite all the fights you may have due to miscommunications and most of the time just lack of physical affection, you still cherish and love your boyfriend very much. You met your boyfriend online as he added you on social media a few years back. You clicked on his profile only to see that he lived in South Korea.

He looks to be a professional dancer and also a full time student in one of the colleges there. Not to mention, super good looking too. However, you weren’t really expecting anything at that point of time only because you don’t really believe in long distance relationships. You’ve always thought it might be hard and that it will never last.

So you just accepted his request and followed him back. The next day, you were in class when you got a DM from someone. And since you rarely got a DM from any guys, you were surprised to see his username pop up.

You clicked the message after about 10 minutes or so to see what he texted you, thinking he was just another weirdo who wants to scam you.

His message said;

“Hello! I saw your account and I really love your content. I’m sorry if this is too weird. I understand if you don’t wish to reply.”

With that, you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh as you didn’t know why but you began to type your reply, “Haha thank you! That’s so nice of you to say that.” You hit the send button and a few minutes later, he replied. That’s when you began to chat with him for quite a while before he asked.

“I’m so sorry, where have my manners gone? I’m Bae Joon Young but you can just call me Jacob. And you are?”

You replied to him with a smile as your fingers tapped against your smartphone, “I’m Y/F/N but you can call me Y/N.”

Ever since then, you have been chatting with him over DMs for quite a while, just to see if you can sort of trust and be comfortable with him or not. It took you almost 5 months to finally add him in your kakao talk.

Both of you have already done both voice and video call which means you already knew how each other looked and you seemed to have grown your trust in him. Jacob seemed like a genuine guy as you found out that he was your age internationally. Months became years and both of you have already introduced your partners to your parents.

However, at first, your parents weren’t too sure about this whole long distance relationship thing. But they didn’t want to disappoint you so instead of asking you to break up and find a local guy, they let you carry on with this relationship if you believe that it would work. Surprisingly, it took your parents less than a month to get warm with Jacob as they finally got comfortable every time he video calls you.

It has been 4 years since you two agreed to pursue this long distance relationship as it marks your 4th anniversary today. You were just lounging in your room when Jacob decided to skype call you through his desktop.

You accepted the call as he smiled adorably into the camera and waved to you, making you giggle as you waved back. “Happy anniversary baby.” Jacob said.

“Happy anniversary my love. Where are you?” You asked.

“I’m in my dorm. Younghoon’s out with our friends.”

“Why aren’t you with them?” You pout.

“I wanted to celebrate our anniversary.”

“Baby, you didn’t have to, you could have called me after.”

“Don’t you want to see me?” He asked sadly.

“Of course I do. It’s just… I feel like I might be the reason why you may not hang out with your friends as often as you do.”

“Baby, listen to me. I’m so lucky to have you as my girlfriend, dang am I lucky to have you reply to my message 4 years ago. I never thought that we could actually last this long but hey, look at us now.” You smiled as you looked down at your hands, only to look back up and see him pout.

“I love you so much, you know that right? And I can never ask for someone to replace you.” He said, making you sigh.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” You asked softly, making him chuckle.

“How I wish I could enter my computer screen and just hug you and kiss you.” He whispered, making you smile sadly, knowing that could never happen, or at least it wouldn’t happen any time soon. You continue talking to him until you fall asleep, making him chuckle softly at your figure. Looking at you through his monitor screen endearingly.

“Goodnight my sweetheart.” He said those last words softly before he ended the call.

Days slowly became weeks and it was the same routine again and again but neither of you were getting bored or tired from it. He would always reassure you that he still loves you and that he would never hurt your feelings in any possible way. It was your birthday that day and your parents had booked a restaurant for you to celebrate and have your birthday dinner with your family, like how it has always been for the past few years.

It would be you, both your parents, your elder sister and her husband along with your 5 years old niece.

You chose to wear a white floral blouse with a pair of denim jeans as you paired it with your heeled sandals. You were in the car with your parents, on your way to the restaurant when Jacob voice called you.

“Hello?” He said.

“Hi Love.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m heading to a restaurant with my family for my birthday dinner. What about you?”

“Oh wow. Where to, this time? I’m just out with the boys.”

“I honestly don’t know. They didn’t tell me.” You laughed as your mother then smiled and spoke up from the front passenger seat.

“Hello dear. How are you sweetie?”

With that, you scooted to the centre of the back seat and put your call on speaker mode. Just then, you heard Jacob respond. “Hello Ma’am, I’m doing well. I wish I could be there to celebrate with all of you.” Jacob said, making you smile sadly as your parents let out a soft chuckle.

“It’s okay son, one of these days, you’ll get to meet our daughter and us.” Your dad said as you could already hear a smile etching on Jacob’s lips.

“Yes sir. I hope so.” Your boyfriend said before you giggled as you turned the speaker mode back off before bringing your phone to your ears. “Hmm, babe I think we’re here. I’ll call you again after dinner okay?” You said into the line.

“It’s okay baby. Don’t worry. Have fun tonight. I love you.”

“I love you too…” You paused for a moment as he waited for you to continue.

“I miss you Jacob.” You couldn’t help but whisper as a tear rolled down your cheek, making him frown.

“Baby please don’t cry. Promise me you won’t cry.” He said, making you nod as you sniffled your cries.

“I’ll try.” You said as you then bid him goodbye before ending the call.

Your sister had already arrived as you and your parents went to the front entrance where a waiter was waiting. Your dad told him that they’ve already made a reservation under your dad’s name as the waiter checked his list and soon smiled at the three of you. “Right this way.” The waiter said as he soon guided you towards the back of the restaurant where there were private rooms with opaque curtains to block the view of those sitting inside.

You were walking last as you texted your boyfriend in the process.

Once you were at the booth, your dad asked you to enter first, in which you got confused but nonetheless did as you were told. However, the minute you pushed the curtains open, your eyes immediately landed on the one person sitting at the very end of the table nearest to the entrance.

You felt your whole body freeze as you couldn’t find the right words. He was there, right in front of you, in one piece. It was him. It was your boyfriend. He was really there physically. You couldn’t believe this.

“Wha- I- When… Omg… Omg…” You whispered as everyone laughed, only for Jacob to chuckle as he got up, making you feel so flustered.

“Happy Birthday my love.” He said, as he walked up to you but you were still frozen in shock.

“Surprise!” Your family said in unison happily.

You locked eyes with Jacob as he engulfed you in a hug. That’s when you began to bawl your eyes out against his shoulder as you could finally feel his arms around your body, holding you tight as though he was afraid of losing you. Jacob laughed softly as he let you cry into his shoulder, while he gently rubs soothing circles in your back to calm you down.

You had your arms wrapped around his waist securely, afraid that if you let go, he would disappear. “Shh, don’t cry baby. Don’t cry.” He whispered in your ear, only for you to cry harder. He laughed even more as your mother and sister were already tearing up at the side.

You pull away from him as he gently wipes your tears with his thumbs. “You’re here… You’re actually here…” You whispered, your breath shaky as he nodded, cupping your face softly in his hands. “Yes love. I’m here. I’m really here.” Jacob said, making you pout. Still unable to believe this was real.

Jacob smiled widely as he pulled you into a hug again, only for you to bury your face in his chest, feeling him draw lazy patterns into your waist. After nearly 30 minutes of you holding onto him and being in your own little bubble, the 7 of you finally settled down to celebrate your birthday dinner. After dinner was over, your parents offered Jacob to stay over at your family home for the next two weeks that he is staying here in your country before he flies back to Korea.

Jacob thanked your parents for letting him stay over as you couldn’t stop holding his hand. The way his hands fit in yours so perfectly as he showered you with so much love and warmth, just like how he did through all the video calls and texts.

That night when everyone had gone home, your parents knew that you probably wanted to spend time with him so they let him sleep in your room.

After both of you had already changed and were getting ready for bed, he pulled you onto his side as you rested your head on his chest. Jacob hugs you close as you tighten your grasp on his shirt. “What’s wrong?” He asked as he glanced down a little.

“I’m just so happy you’re here. I still need time to process this information.” You confessed.

Jacob chuckled softly as he whispered, “I’m really happy to be able to finally see you in person. This means so much to me.”

“Me too.”

Just then, the room fell quiet as you just looked into each other’s eyes, seeing the sparkles coating both your pupils as he gently caressed your cheek. Right at that moment, Jacob seemed to read your mind as he gently pulled you up a little. Without much words, Jacob decides to ask the one question that both of you had in mind.

“Can I kiss you?”

With that, you smiled shyly as you nodded. Jacob smiles in victory as he leans down softly to finally feel your soft lips on his and it has never felt so magical. Both of you took in this new feeling as he kissed you sweetly.

You spent the next two weeks with him, just making the most of your time. A month after he went back to Korea, it was your turn to give him a surprise visit as you managed to book a flight to Korea, asking for Jacob’s help to fetch you at the airport and bring you over to his apartment.

You stayed with Jacob for two days before surprising Jacob for his birthday party. Jacob did such a good job at taking care of you and making sure that you weren’t lost in Korea.

Despite the long distance, it definitely made you two grow stronger and gain even more trust in one another. It was a blessing in disguise that you accepted his request 4 years ago.

And you regretted none of it.

~~~

#the boyz scenarios #the boyz jacob #the boyz joonyoung #the boyz jacob scenarios #the boyz jacob imagines #tbz jacob #tbz joonyoung #tbz joonyoung scenarios #tbz joonyoung imagines #tbz fluff #tbz jacob fluff #jacob bae

[kaimelia]

lover

a/n: hi random s15 amelink! hope you enjoy mwah I miss them <33

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

"Hey, you all set?" Amelia glanced up from her phone to see Link standing above her, concern spread across his face.

"What?"

"You've been sitting here for like, half an hour; I just figured I should check if you're good before I leave."

"Yeah, I'm just waiting for Meredith; she's my ride home." Link sat down in the armchair beside her.

"This probably isn't what you want to hear, but I just saw Grey get pulled into a trauma as I was leaving the E.R.," he shrugged in sympathy, and Amelia groaned dramatically.

"I'm gonna kill her. I just got out of an eleven-hour surgery, and I haven't eaten since breakfast." Amelia laid her head against the couch cushion behind her, closing her eyes and placing a hand on her forehead.

"You want a ride? I'm heading out, and I can drop you off." She sat up with wide eyes.

"You're serious?" He nodded. "Ugh, I could kiss you."

"Oh, I-"

"Let's go," she jumped up from the couch, grabbing her bag from the floor and slinging it over her shoulder, following Link out of the lounge and down to his car in the parking lot.

"You wanna stop and get something on the way? Pizza, maybe?"

"Pizza's good," Amelia sighed as she collapsed in the passenger seat, leaning her head against the window and yawning. "As long as you just run in and grab it."

"I'll call now," he muttered, pulling out his phone and dialing a number, Amelia's eyes closing as he began to speak softly.

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

"Hey." She opened her eyes to see Link holding out a box which she took from him eagerly. "Which way is Meredith's?"

"Oh, uh," she glanced around and yawned. "Your place is closer." Link raised his eyebrows.

"You wanna just head back to my place?"

"If I go to Mer's, I'm gonna have to deal with Ellis wanting a ton of bedtime stories, and Zola will need help with her homework, and I love them, I do, but I just can't deal with that right now."

"I thought our rule was no sleepovers?" She rolled her head to the side and glared at him.

"You wanna get picky now?"

"Okay," he whispered. "To my place."

By the time he pulled into the lot of his apartment complex, Amelia eagerly threw the door open and hurried up the stairs, waiting for him to unlock the door before dropping the pizza box on the counter and stuffing her face.

"Sorry about the mess," he muttered, picking up an old takeout container from the table, "I didn't think anyone would be coming over."

"You call this a mess? You should come live with three children for a day. This place is spotless." Link shrugged and reached over her to grab a slice of pizza.

"I like keeping my things organized; what can I say?" She glanced at him for a moment before taking another slice.

"Why is your apartment so bare? It looks like you just moved in," she muttered, covering her mouth with her hand and glancing around the space she had barely been in.

"I've never been one to settle somewhere; I've moved around a lot, and I'm not here much for anything other than sleeping. It's functional."

"It's cold," she muttered, "literally and physically. It feels lonely in here."

"You live in the adult equivalent of a frat house. I like my quiet and solitude."

"Do you have friends?" Link scoffed quietly at her question.

"Are you asking if I have a best friend who I go to the mall with every weekend and have sleepovers with on our nights off? Because, no, but I do have friends, thanks for asking."

"I mean, you're never doing anything when I call."

"I grew up an only child, and everything was about my parents. I'm used to being alone, and I don't mind it. But, most of the time I'm not with you; I go out with Jackson and Nico or Jo." He picked up the last slice. "You want it?"

"All yours." She wiped her hands on a paper towel. "Next time I come over, I'm gonna bring you a candle or something."

"Feel free to decorate my place while you're at it," he mumbled, "you're here almost just as much as I am, and I'm never going to do it."

"That's a dangerous offer. You'll end up with color in here." He shuddered comically, rolling his eyes at her.

"You act like I'm the most boring person you've met."

"You like sports and playing the guitar. Not to diss you, but that's the most stereotypical thing I've heard."

"There is more to me, but whatever you say." Amelia narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head.

"Knowing those things would break the rules of our relationship-not-relationship," she hummed, closing the box and handing it to him.

"I'm pretty sure this breaks the rules of our relationship-not-relationship."

"Which is why I'll sleep on the couch."

"Why? The bed's perfectly fine."

"I don't trust myself to be in that bed with you," she muttered, looking up at him for a brief moment as he pursed his lips and nodded firmly, holding back a smirk that she could still see on his face.

"Right. Well, you take the bed; the couch will ruin your back, so I'll sleep on there."

"What? I'll be fine."

"Amelia, just take the bed. You're the guest here, and I want you to be comfortable. It's just one night."

Amelia. He'd never called her that before; it was always Dr. Shepherd, but Amelia decided she liked the way it sounded coming from his lips, the way he enunciated the middle of her name as if it was the most important word he'd ever said.

She shook her head quickly to ignore how warm her cheeks felt.

"Your room smells like you."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Pheromones."

"Alright," Link muttered, "I'll bring you a pillow and some blankets; it gets freezing in here at night." She watched him walk away into the bedroom and return a minute later, tossing a blanket at her and setting another one on the coffee table in front of the couch. "Anything else?"

"I don't have pajamas," she sat down on the couch, "and I don't really wanna sleep in these clothes."

"You just want a shirt or some pants, too?"

"Just a shirt." He nodded firmly and left again, throwing a balled-up t-shirt at her when he came back. "Thank you."

"I'll be in the bedroom if you need anything else, alright?" Amelia gave him a thumbs up before he left, exchanging a quick goodnight and watching as he shut the bedroom door.

She threw on the shirt, noticing the logo of some random baseball team she had never heard of and almost laughing as the fabric covered down to her knees.

After some brief exploring of the near-empty space of his living room, she laid down on the couch and pulled one of the blankets over her body, soon realizing that he wasn't lying about the discomfort of the sofa.

Amelia sighed and grabbed the blanket from the couch, wrapping it around her body like a shawl as she tiptoed down the wood floors of Link's apartment. She pushed the door open slowly, cringing as it creaked, and she could make out Link's figure sitting up in the bed.

"Amelia?" She closed the door behind her and breathed heavily, slowly padding towards the bed.

"It's freezing out there."

"I know, that's why I left you another blanket on the-" He stopped speaking as Amelia got on the bed and it dipped below her, and Amelia was silent as she moved towards him. "What are you doing?"

"Shut up," she whispered, laying down beside him and throwing her blanket over their bodies before she curled up against his side. His hand pressed gently against her back as she laid her head on his chest and pulled the comforter up, placing her hand on the other side of his chest. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he whispered in response, and Amelia closed her eyes contently.

She could feel how quickly his heart was racing in his chest below her head, but she didn't mind, because hers was beating just as fast.

#amelink #amelia shepherd #atticus lincoln #amelia x link #amelink fanfiction #grey's anatomy #amelink fanfic #greys abc #greys fanfic #my fics #s15 amelink means so much to me

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Lovebug (4/10)

Summary:  

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 5

Notes: Feedback is very much appreciated :D

Mid spring shifted to the peak of summer in just three hours.

Or maybe it was less than three hours. Levi wasn’t staring at a clock though, instead enjoying the novel amenities that came with taking a private jet to their destination.

It was a far flung contrast to whatever he had gotten accustomed to in economy class. Three hours on a plane went by much faster when the plane seat could recline a whole one eighty degrees, when the food wasn’t served clumped together in aluminum packs, and when beverages in a hundred different varieties were free flowing.

By the time the plane had landed, Levi was almost disappointed that it didn’t last any longer.

“Is this your first time on anything better than the economy?”

Levi wondered what kind of ridiculous face he had made for Zeke to have taken the time out of his business mogul schedule to give out a backhand insult. Still, that had been more than enough of a reminder that maybe Levi had been overenjoying the free flowing amenities of a private jet.

Erwin had only drank one glass of wine if Levi recalled correctly. Recalling Zeke and Hange who sat a few feet away, he was sure they had drunk nothing more than two glasses of wine each over a simple cheese platter.

Levi on the other hand, had sampled at least ten of the twenty varieties of tea offered. When will you have the opportunity to try it again? He reminded himself. Still, when he was being stared down by the richest man in the country, his partner and his direct boss who were probably all used to the luxuries afforded to the top one percent, Levi became a little self conscious.

The view as Levi disembarked from the plane had only made that slight inferiority complex worse and he was wondering why he had even entertained it. He snuck a glare at Zeke, narrowing his eyes just a little more as Zeke put one arm over Hange, walking ahead just a few feet away.

“Levi, are you going down?”

Levi felt one hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Erwin, brushing past him, taking the stairs one at a time.

“Of course I am,” Levi answered. He kept his voice, casual and professional, an attempt to disguise whatever emotion was forcing his mouth agape then.

He shouldn't be gaping. It wasn't anything magnificent. It was just a country club after all.

***

It wasn’t just a country club as Levi soon found out.

The reception building was just a reception building and near the front of the desk was a map. A map of an island. Levi was starting to wonder what idiocy had overtaken him just hours ago when he had failed to even google the country club.

The airport lounge they had overnighted in. The experience of riding a private jet. Those all paled in comparison to what awaited Levi.

Although he had already willed himself to act as nonchalant as possible, his eyes had widened and he had frozen a little too quickly at the large map in front of him and he had asked too many questions. “Where do we leave our bags?” he asked.

“Not here. This is the reception building. We’re taking a car to our summer house,” Hange answered.

When they got into the car, Levi asked another question. “So we leave our bags in the summer house and then we go back here to the country club...” he trailed off as Hange frowned in confusion. Was that a stupid question?

“The summer house is part of the country club.” Hange was still answering patiently.

“I’ve heard of places like this but I have to admit, it’s my first time staying in one,” Erwin commented as if he had researched the place himself.

If he did, that meant Levi was the only clueless one left.

Rubbing salt into the wound, Zeke spoke up. “The island is the private country club, Levi.” He raised one eyebrow at Levi, studying him. His face spoke for him ‘you’ve never been to one of these before?’

Sorry, I’m poor. Levi thought to himself, giving Zeke the most mockingly apologetic yet professional face he could muster. He soon realized, it might never be possible to pull off such an expression. Abandoning all attempts, he instead bent down to do a quick google search of the island.

Levi liked to believe he was solidly middle class. After a quick search on the membership prices of staying in some country club island hybrid only to find out annual dues were a good few times above his annual income, he started to come to terms with the fact that maybe he was poor. He kept his head down. Maybe the next time he looked back up at Zeke, his face might look more apologetic than actually mocking and he couldn’t have that.

The ride took five minutes, an excruciatingly long five minutes in the same enclosed piece of metal as Zeke who had only been rubbing him off just a little wrongly since even yesterday. He had to take a few deep breaths, a few subtle ones at least.

He had to bite his lip and force his mouth up into at least a glimmer of a poker face instead of the default grimace that came with having to keep close quarters with Zeke. There were still things about the country club he didn’t understand. Maybe Erwin didn't understand them too.

Although he would have had no problem talking to Hange about it, there was one caveat to approaching her.

She was always with Zeke.

Powerless and with little to no interest in dealing with Zeke personally, Levi decided to just go with the flow, following Erwin where applicable, loitering awkwardly like a lost reed when he had no choice but to be alone. Such an approach to life had turned out to be enough at least to get Levi changed into board shorts and a white shirt, enough to get him passively settled on one of the sun chairs next to the infinity pool, reader in hand.

He wasn’t reading though. He was attempting to read and had been for the past few minutes. Everything just found a way to be distracting.

The silence, the peaceful solitude that came with staying in a country club which he didn’t pay for--- and would probably never be able to pay for anyway---had him looking up again and again for anyone who could sympathize. Erwin still hadn’t gone out to the pool area. It was expected anyway, even on weekends, Erwin liked to work.

By the time Levi had self meditated enough to not be as self conscious and by the time he had mustered enough energy to start to make sense of some of the words on the reader, he heard footsteps---a new distraction. He looked up to find Hange standing in front of him, in a one piece that accentuated her form, in light purple, a color that just made her tan skin a little brighter under the late morning sun.

And she wasn’t with Zeke. So Levi stared for a little longer, or at least he snuck enough glances. Maybe Hange noticed. Levi caught her playful grin, the way she had turned towards him, her figure getting closer and closer until Levi had to force himself to look up and pretend he hadn’t actually been staring since a while ago.

“We don’t get this weather everyday back home. You should swim,” Hange said.

“No, it’s fine. I’m in a good part of the book,” Levi said. And I wanna finish it soon. That was what he wanted to stay before he stopped himself. He was halfway to showing Hange just a little bit of what he was reading until he realized he hadn’t even moved past the title page yet. He pulled back before she could see any more.

Hange shrugged, still the hint of disappointment on her face was perceptible. “But you’ll be joining us this afternoon right?”

“What is our plan anyway?” Levi asked.

“Well, go out for a tour of the island in the afternoon, maybe go to the beach. Then after that, swimming tonight…” Hange trailed off before snapping her fingers. “Right, Zeke reserved for tea time at sunrise tomorrow!”

Tea time? Levi could feel the blood rush through his head. The tea they had served in the airport lounge, the private plane had been the most delectable ones, the most exotic ones he had tasted in his life. A new burst of energy rushed through him as he surveyed his overly luxurious surroundings.

If the lounge and the plane paled in comparison to the resort, would the tea and the variety of tea prove to be anything more?

“Hange, so about that tea time…” Levi started. Before he could even look up from his book again to answer the question, Hange screamed.

At first, it sounded shrill, like a shriek. A shriek of terror?

No, she was laughing. “Zeke! What are you doing?”

Levi had a good view of it from his place on the sun chair, a good upward view.

A very disgusting view. If Levi hadn’t been at the mercy of Zeke’s country club membership, maybe he would have told them to get a room. Maybe he would have walked away. Still, that had seemed too rude of a reaction as well. Levi put his reader in front of him, just staring at the title page for a second longer.

He couldn’t completely avoid his peripherals though and the view they were giving him were tempting. He couldn’t comprehend everything but he did capture the way Zeke had nuzzled his beard on Hange’s neck. Hange’s playful laughs weren’t so easily ignored either. He contemplated putting his fingers into his ears. Would it be rude to plug his ears with his fingers then? If he did he would have to put down his reader and he would have to see it or close his eyes.

Just imagining how he would look had him shuddering and he chose instead to freeze on the spot and stare once again at the title page of his book.

Maybe he could look away. But if he looked away, that might seem rude too. He had taken too long to ponder and just that small and very fruitless problem solving exercise had turned out useless.

Zeke eventually stopped nuzzling her. And maybe for a second he had gone for a kiss. With his peripherals, Levi’s view was limited and Zeke was moving just a little too fast.

By the time Levi had allowed himself to look up, Zeke was running barefoot towards the pool, Hange in his arms bridal style. With Zeke’s back turned on him, Levi saw that as an opportunity to stare a little longer than necessary.

He witnessed it all, the overly flamboyant movements, Hange’s laughs, her playful struggle to get out of his grip and the huge splash that came with them diving feet first into the pool.

The only solace Levi found in the whole ordeal was that the sun chair had been a good distance from the pool. That at least spared him from getting caught in the splash or from having to see anymore than he wanted to.

But even from his position a few feet away, he caught glimpses of their bodies pressed against each other. Were they kissing?

Even when he put his ebook reader just on a perfect spot to conceal their shapes in the pool, he couldn't completely avoid it. After all, Hange was still laughing. She was still talking, her voice something faint yet something still jovial from a few feet away.

Levi turned to the first page of his book, scanning over the first line, reading it once then twice. Words had a way of sucking people into worlds unknown, beyond the dreary dimension called reality.

Or they were supposed to. He needed to get past the first sentence before it could suck him in deep enough to forget Hange's laughter or the drumming baritone of Zeke’s voice.

When the first sentence included phrases like ‘truth universally acknowledged” and when the ending clause read “a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife,” Levi started to find it a little harder to get lost in the book.

There was a man in front of him, loud and proud, who was in possession of a good fortune. And that man had a beautiful, smart partner. There was no need to fabricate his own phantom man when there was one he could be jealous of, right in front of him.

The reader almost forgotten, Levi found himself again watching the blonde, the man in possession of a good fortune and Hange. Hange had settled by the edge of the infinity pool, her damp brown hair falling onto her shoulders, brushing her arms, as she propped her arms on the edge, leaning her upper body forward. She rested her chin on her arms and just watched the sea.

Levi was a good distance away but the angle was good. When he squinted his eyes, he saw admiration, he saw awe in Hange’s eyes. While he was barely unable to get past the first line of the book, Hange had managed to get lost in the beautiful view of the ocean in front of her.

Fast enough that Levi was almost tempted to take his shirt off, dive into the pool and join her.

If it hadn’t been for Zeke. It was the blond bearded man who had obscured his view of Hange. Hange moved a little quickly, pushing herself up from the edge to look back at Zeke.

They were talking a little more quietly. Still, Levi had become familiar enough with the baritone of Zeke’s voice, the melody in Hange’s voice, to know that they were having a dynamic yet balanced conversation, an intimate conversation. Something just for both of them.

He was getting lost in murmurs, in tones, in chuckles. He didn’t even notice his surroundings start to dim, until it had turned everything shades of blue grey and greyed green. Until Hange and Zeke had both looked up at the sky.

He looked down to find light drops had turned the parts of the first line into mush. Soon, the light drops were on his bare arms, then parts of his shirt started to stick to his back. His bangs fell heavier on his face.

“Levi, let’s go back inside, it looks like it’s gonna rain for a while,” Hange said, gesturing for him to follow her.

Why did it take him so long to realize? Levi scolded himself, slipping his ebook reader just under his shirt. It didn’t do much to help though. His shirt was already soaked.

“Well, we were only planning an hour-long swim anyway,” Zeke said from a good distance away, seeming comfortable under the cabana.

“What time is it?” Levi asked as soon as they caught up to Zeke. .

Hange checked her phone. “We’ll be having lunch in a while,”

Levi only needed to do some quick calculations to realize they had been out for an hour. And somehow, he never got past the first line of that damn book.

***

Weather could be very predictable or so that was what Levi liked to believe.

Even when the sky remained a gloomy grey and the rain continued to pour, Levi expected the rain would let up with time. The rain was hard though, forcing itself as a presence in whatever conversation they were trying to have over lunch.

It was Zeke who had enough of it first. He led everyone back to what looked to be a game room towards the other wing of the summerhouse, closing the windows, the doors, quashing the whoosh of the winds and the loud patter of the rain to some distant sound.

Having dealt with it for more than an hour over lunch, Levi had quickly gotten used to the annoying rain, that when the aircon was switched on, overpowering the faint patter of rain, he had almost been surprised.

And fucking cold. Levi only realized then, he was right under the air conditioner with nothing but a semi-wet T-shirt to protect him.

“Would you rather we didn’t turn the aircon on Levi?” Zeke asked. Those words that could have held concern but really, Levi only had to look to Zeke’s face to see nonchalance.

Zeke was paying. Levi was a mere visitor under the mercy of the paying customer so the first thing he could will out of his mouth then were the only appropriate things lowly free loading visitors would usually say. “It’s fine,” Levi stood up. “I’ll just get changed first.”

“No need, I’ll have someone get you a shirt, just change there.” Zeke pointed to the powder room at the corner.

Right, that had been the reason why Hange and Zeke weren’t at all freezing after having spent the last two hours swimming. They had changed already. Among the three of them, he had been the only one too lazy--- or maybe too embarrassed---to have requested for a towel from one of the maids.

Or even a spare shirt. He had half the mind to just lock himself in the bedroom, take a quick shower and maybe actually start on that damn romance novel he had downloaded into his reader only yesterday.

Zeke had an uncanny grin on his face. Hange and Erwin were also staring at him expectantly. “I can just get the shirt myself,” Levi said. And maybe not come back.

“I said, I’ll have one of the maids bring it over,” Zeke said. “Anything in particular you want from your room?” He reached for his cellphone on the table, unlocking it.

“Just a sweater.” And that sweater came quickly, even before it started to feel like a few minutes. Levi pulled the hoodie over himself and that had been more than enough to make the air conditioning bearable. He wasn't desperate enough to complain about the air conditioning again.

"I really hope the weather gets better. I'd hate to reschedule tea time," Zeke muttered. He made himself comfortable on the sofa next to Hange.

"As long as it doesn’t rain tomorrow, we’ll be fine. The grass dries up fast anyway so even if it stops raining tonight, it won't be muddy," Hange said.

"Still, I prefer my course without the post rain atmosphere… if you know what I mean."

You get your tea in courses? Tea usually came in course anyway. Levi imagined shortbread, scones and the right mix of tea to accompany it every time. From his seat a few feet away, with his blood seething just watching that exchange, he felt no need to ask. One thing was for sure though, Hange and Zeke lived in a world far flung from his and there was no use trying to make sense of it.

He did love tea though and just imagining how weather and the state of grass could affect the quality of tea had Levi thinking a little more creatively. Some variants of tea definitely tasted better when it was raining. But tea that particularly tasted better after the rain, when the sun was up? Levi couldn't pick them out with just one thought.

But it would be nice to know which tea.... Before he could draw any more context though, Hange and Zeke had moved on from their conversation on tea time, instead approaching Erwin and Levi by the square table where the two had settled. “The rain doesn’t look like it will stop anytime soon. It’d be a waste though to spend our time doing nothing. We have a few games here if you’re interested in a friendly game?” Zeke suggested.

“What do you have in mind?” Erwin asked, looking up from the book he had been reading. He closed it and Levi knew Erwin enough to figure out, whatever it was, the blond was very much interested.

“Mahjong?” Zeke looked pointedly down at the square table. “I got this table back in a trip to China… It would be a waste of money if I don’t spend more time using it.”

“I haven’t played in a while,” Erwin admitted. "But I think I know enough to manage." He turned to Levi.

The expectant look was directed right on him and Levi almost jumped on his seat. "Mahjong?" He had heard of that game before. He was sure he had tried messing around with a mobile game before. He lived a good distance from China though and he never did make sense of those tiles with those random marks on them.

"That sounds like a good way to pass the time," Hänge commented. "The last time we played was with your other client…Reeves right?"

"That man almost gave me a run for my money. I'm pretty sure I only won because I collected enough flower tiles." Zeke suddenly slammed his hand on the table, his voice stocked full of ideas, there could have been a light bulb on his head. "What about we bet some money on this? Games aren’t fun unless we have some money on the line"

"Actually, I still owe you for that last game of poker we had," Hange said, a wide grin on her face.

"Erwin? What do you think? I think this a great way to build company camaraderie. Just some casual gambling… nothing more than a few hundred dollars…"

Something caught at Levi's throat. Nervousness? Tension? He had a few hundred dollars on hand, he was sure. To put them at risk over a 'casual' rainy afternoon over board games?

Everyone in the room seemed unfazed about spending a few hundred dollars though.

Erwin was the good balance between conservative and vocal in the conversation. "Let's keep it at a thousand dollar limit I'd rather we didn't play anything more over a few casual games," Erwin said. He pulled out his wallet from his back pocket, counting out a few hundred dollar bills and dropping it on the table in front of him.

It was just like Erwin to be prepared.

“What about you Levi? How much will you be betting?”

“Let me just get my wallet first.”

“No, I wouldn’t want you to have to make the journey all the way back to the other wing. I’ll have someone get your bag.”

A few minutes later, Levi’s bag was resting on the sofa just a few feet away and Levi was counting out bills on the table. He was the limiting factor to how much money the rest would be playing. Levi gave in to the silent pressure. The money on hand was disposable income anyway, allowance just in case he had to spend anything in the country club. Although it had been painful, Levi mustered up the courage to empty his wallet in front of them.

“Seven hundred and sixty dollars,” Levi said, counting out twenty dollar bills, fifty dollar bills and hundred dollar bills. He prepared himself for the loss. Still, a few hundred dollars was still too much.

Levi was still in the process of convincing himself that maybe spending a good hundred dollars on a good few games wasn't a bad idea. In some sort of a gamble, nobody was guaranteed a hundred percent loss. In fact he might just gain more.

Maybe it had been Levi's own tendency to play safe, his aversion to loss that had him going through the motions of sliding the money towards Zeke just a little slower than he would have wanted. Still, with a good internal scolding, he managed to raise his eyebrows and clear his throat, a loud and abrupt enough movement to get him at least somewhat focused on the tiles in front of him.

The tiles formed a wall in front of him and as Levi glanced a little further, he saw Hange had pushed her own wall in front of her. Erwin did the same. Then Zeke. A few seconds of coordination later and there was a square of tiled walls.

“Let’s keep betting simple, no flowers, no extra money for certain tiles. Just ‘if you win,’ you get the money on the table,” Zeke suggested. He counted four hundred dollars in varying bills and dropped it on the table in the middle. “You’ve played before Levi?”

Levi shook his head. “No, never.”

Zeke shrugged. “Well, you can learn as we play. Luck plays a part in mahjong anyway. Who knows you might just get the winning tile.” He rolled the dice. “Okay, you pick where we cut.”

“Pick where to cut…”

“The tiles,” Zeke said, his tone just slightly more abrasive. “Pick a tile and count.”

The hair at the back of his neck stood and instinctively, Levi looked up to meet Zeke’s stare. He placed one hand on the corner nearest to him and started counting.

Zeke narrowed his eyes at Levi, leaning on one hand, looking particularly bored. “Away from you. Not towards you.” He was talking to him like he was a kid.

Or maybe, Levi was just being an idiot at the moment. With all eyes watching his every movement thought, when he himself had little to no idea what the hell he was doing, he just wanted to freeze on the spot.

“Levi, it's like this,” Hange’s voice was a stark contrast to Zeke’s. Her sing-songy voice had been enough to get him moving again. He didn’t even notice his hand had frozen halfway through counting until Hange had clutched the back of his hand and started to guide it over the tiles. “You count away from yourself.”

Dealing the tiles was another issue altogether. He probably wouldn’t have been able to run it as smoothly as Hange. It looked more like a ritual and Hange had taken over, her hands moving deftly over the well fitted tiles. She handed him eight stacked in two rows then nine stacked similarly. She distributed them in the same manner over the table before giving him one more. “You start.”

Levi still didn’t know how to play though. But he had counted seventeen tiles and he had remembered playing it over a mobile game so he was sure it had something to do with dropping one of his tiles. He dropped the first one to the left.

“Pong!��� Zeke’s voice echoed across the salon as he grabbed the tile in the center and inserted it between two of his tiles.

Levi still didn’t know what was happening but the seemingly concerned stare Hange had given him was evidence enough, he probably wasn’t playing properly.

***

An hour later, Levi was three hundred dollars poorer but on the bright side, he understood the objective of the game. He had organized his wall by ascending numbers and similar pairs and had created for himself a system on how to get five triples and one pair.

He just wasn’t fast enough at creating sets for himself.

Erwin dropped the wall in front of them. “Looks like the next hundred dollars is mine,” he said, grabbing the wad of bills from the center of the table.

Levi allowed himself the comfort of looking away, focusing instead on building the wall again. Losing money hurt. The most painful part of buying had always been putting in the credit card number and watching as the screen loaded to ‘payment received.’ A dull pain that weighed on his chest, pulling his lips down into a curled grimace. Levi was feeling the same way then as he heard the rustle of a good hundred dollars fall back into someone’s wallet.

He was in no mood to continue. But I can’t lose all the games right? Levi willed himself to look up again, quickly building the wall in front of him.

The room was filled with the echoes of ‘pong,’’chow,’ and the clatter of tiles on the wooden table, the clack of plastic against plastic as they hit one another. He was still unbearably slow.

And Hange was staring. He was slow but he wasn’t oblivious. “What do you want?”

Hange looked away. “Nothing.”

Levi looked back down at his tiles. He had been lucky enough to have gotten a conveniently matched set of tiles. Within a few moves, all he needed were a ‘two balls’ tile and an ‘seven sticks tile.’

All he had to do was win that, and that would put his net loss at four hundred dollars. That amount was stomacheable at least. Erwin had his tiles close to him, his blue eyes darting quickly from one end of his wall to the other.

Zeke looked deep in thought but as Levi looked closer, he saw a sliver of a grimace. Hange on the other hand liked to stare at him and he had noticed enough times that she had snuck glances at his tiles while reshuffling her own, more than enough times for Levi to at least allow himself a second of wishful thinking.

Was she thinking of him?

The response came loud and clear. “Chow,” Hange said. Her mind was still in the game.

She dropped one tile. Still not the one Levi wanted. He grabbed one from the wall next to him. Still not the one he wanted either.

He looked around him once again, using the square table as a guide to recalling how many rounds had passed. He still needed those two tiles. Since a while ago, he had been stuck in a cycle of just grabbing a new tile and discarding it.

Zeke dropped a ‘two balls’ tile. Levi reached out to grab it even before Zeke pulled away then he dropped another tile.

All Levi needed then was the ‘seven sticks.’ His eyes scanned his surroundings before sliding the Zeke’s discarded tile between two of his own.

A cycle passed. Erwin played. Zeke played. Then Hange. She looked at Levi’s wall once again then looked up at him. Levi met her stare for a second longer before she looked back at his tiles then at her own.

Whatever she saw was probably more interesting than he was. Still, he wondered what she saw on the blank backs of the tiles clumped together.

Maybe she did see something. Before the next cycle even ended, Hange had dropped her tiles on the table, so clumsily and messily that if Levi had been the arbiter, he would have disqualified her. “I thought I lost this one," she said giving a everyone a wry laugh.

Her tiles were a mess. It had taken a few seconds longer, craning his neck scanning over her mixed up tiles to be certain that she had completed it. Among those tiles wedged carelessly towards the middle was the ‘seven sticks’ tile he had needed to win.

Hange grinned. Maybe it could have been genuine, to Levi it was mocking.. After all, she had one every single one of the games save for one Erwin had won and two, Zeke had won. The evidence of that sat right next to the wall of tiles---a thick wad of cash.

That had him a little ticked. He could still get the money back he was sure. He had three more hundred dollar bills, three more chances to earn back the money. He pulled one out, slamming it on the table in front of him. “Next game.”

***

“The strategy of the game isn’t just to reorganize the tiles. You have to put yourself in a situation where you can win with two different tiles.” Erwin was a very eloquent man.

Still, the explanation went in one ear and out the other. “What?” You need sixteen tiles in the game right?

“For example, I set myself up for a position where if I got a ‘two balls’ tile or a ‘one sticks tile..' That would higher my chances of winning,” Erwin explained. But he didn't win.

The one who had won all the games had been Hange who had chosen that moment to count the bills, a wide cat-like smile on her face. Levi couldn’t choose whether to stare at her or the wad of bills in her hand.

They had proven already through six miserable games that although luck played a part in mahjong, it was a strategy game. Somehow, Hange had been the most privy to strategy among the three of them. How exactly? Levi was still too bitter to ask.

The rain was still pouring and if Levi focused on it, he could use it to drown out conversations. It was as if Zeke knew it though, he let his voice echo across the room as he spoke. “You wanna play another game?”

Erwin shook his head. “I think I’ll go back to the room first. There are just some paperwork I need to sort out.”

A wave of disappointment washed through Levi then, or it could have been something a little more heavy. After all, his wallet was completely empty and thus, notably light. Without any cash, under the mercy of one of the richest men in the country, Levi felt naked.

After taking a quick glance at his wallet, Levi snapped it close. He couldn’t do anything about it. He had turned his heel to follow Erwin out of the game room, towel and wet shirt on hand when Zeke mentioned something about getting back twice what he had lost.

It was the word ‘pay you’ that had his ears perked up. It was the word ‘double’ that had him looking back, almost pathetically.

He wasn’t that pathetic. He reminded myself. But money is money. “How?”

“A game of chess?” Zeke suggested, pulling a board out from the shelf.

“Oh, chess?” Hange asked excitedly as she started to clean out the tiles a little quicker.

Zeke put one finger to Hange’s lips. “Not now hun, this is between me and Levi here.” He focused his eyes on Levi. “You need the money don’t you?”

Levi bit his lip. With the way Zeke was talking, it didn’t look like Levi had the chance to win. Still, he could at least try to get back that seven hundred dollars. More importantly, Hange had settled for the seat in between them. She rested her chin on her hands and she was watching both of them intently.

Hange wasn’t staring at tiles that time, she was staring at him.

“How many games?” Levi asked.

“One would be enough. There’s no timer so take the time you need to move,” Zeke said as he lay the board down.

Levi had played chess before. He stared at the pieces in front of them doing a quick review in his head of how each piece moved as he placed them on the board. He still knew how to play at least.

Zeke seemed to know more though. “The Italian game,” he said around the third move. He was moving quickly and reasonably, solid proof that he was far from a beginner.

Levi didn’t have much of a chance but he wasn’t considering quitting yet. It was a chance at money though and Hange was still watching, her eyes on the board. When his king was under attack, Hange had followed with her eyes, her expression unchanging.

As he moved, Levi continued to look at Hange, watching how her eyes focused clearly on the black king in front of her. Before he knew it, he wasn’t even solving whatever puzzle had appeared on the board, his focus was on those brown eyes, and how the hell they had looked so good even half closed, under the dim light of the room.

“You never played chess growing up?” Zeke asked.

Levi looked back at the board to find his king at the corner. “I did a few times.”

“Well, not enough to spot a mate in two.” With some flourish, Zeke lay the king down at the edge of the table. The piece toppled over and rolled down to the side of the table.

Hange picked it up and twirled it in her hand. "There were a lot of moves you didn't spot either," she told Zeke.

"You think you can do a better job?"

Hange gave Zeke a toothy smile. "You know I can."

If they didn't have a table in between them, Levi was sure they would have gone closer. He cleaned out the pieces and was about to fold the board close when Hange sat directly in front of him.

"Don't clean up the pieces yet. Let's play," she said.

He couldn't say no.

***

Somehow within a few moves, the game had evolved into another gamble.

Maybe it helped that Zeke left the room, mumbling something about a meeting and an IPO of a well known company.The moment he left, Hänge started moving a little faster. Levi was halfway through deciding whether or not to repeat the same mistakes of a while ago when he heard the rustle of bills.

He looked beyond the board to find Hange distracted with something under the table. He had half the mind to look under the table then. He had cocked his head just a little lower, ready to peek from under the table when she spoke up again.

"It's the money I won," she said. "If you win this game, you can win it back. I'll pay you double."

"Something tells me you're better than Zeke"

Hange responded with a wide smirk. "Who said?"

"You were winning most of the mahjong games. And when Zeke played with me… you seemed pretty concentrated. Besides, you said so yourself, you could do a better job "

"Maybe I can." She shrugged. "Zeke just made some pretty glaring mistakes."

"Like…"

Hänge didn't respond instantly. The pieces were doing the work for her. He only had to stare down, to notice patterns crested to conclude for himself Hange had played the exact same moves. "A lot of the games are about thinking ahead," She explained. "Zeke is good at that but having worked with him for so long, I noticed… he doesn't really look too much at details. His plans are always grand and he gets the job done. But personally, I think cleaner and faster wins come from less conventional methods, methods that dig towards the nitty gritty details. A lot of grand plans are built on detail after all, not the other way around."

The next few moments passed in silence, save for the sound of the clacking of pieces, in a way Levi was very much familiar with.

"Like here, Zeke had a good move here," Hange said. "Don't play that, play this instead. If you play the pawn first, you block your bishop in."

"Okay." There wasn't much else to say in between.

Hange moved another piece. "What's your next move?"

Levi found himself attempting to mimic that same attention to detail. There was a dam in his mind, stopping him from thinking beyond what was already on the board.

Hange didn't have that same issue. She looked up at him expectantly.

"You like thinking ahead too." Levi asked.

"I like approaching games with a little more attention to detail," Hange said. “For example, if he left his knight right here, he would have paralyzed your position. He went for a quick and more careless attack.” Hange replayed the game again. “What’s your next move?”

Levi was only a split second from playing his next move, Hange took the reins. “That move is just gonna make your position worse. Move your pieces out first.”

Before Levi even knew it, Hange was playing for him. A few times, he had tried to move the pieces before him of his own volition, only to realize he didn’t have any input.

Hange had placed them both in a position incomprehensible to him. “Sometimes, it’s the small details, which have you reading ahead,” she said. “Like a while ago, Erwin and Zeke liked to focus on the bigger picture. If they place themselves in a lucky enough position to get a perfect set, they win. They didn’t consider one thing…” She wagged her finger at him. “You got a pretty good set right?” she said.

“A while ago?”

Hange nodded. “A few rounds you did. You like to organize your tiles, you clump the similar tiles together so you can more easily see patterns maybe?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Well, that's a bad idea when playing with actual players. I picked up that you needed a ‘seven sticks’ piece. Or around that range. You were letting go of everything a little too quickly but at the start, you picked up an ‘eight sticks’ then you let go of the rest right? You placed your eight sticks towards the end of the wall, next to one tile which was probably a ‘nine sticks.’

At that moment, as Hange recalled it, Levi saw the tiles clearly once again. They were supposed to be hidden, he was sure. Under Hange’s observant eye, he was exposed.

“The point is, your turn is right after mine. I had the tile you needed and I didn’t let go of it. And if you gave up on completing it, maybe you would have had a better chance of winning.You were just too conservative with your own ways. You didn’t wanna let go of that pattern you were trying to make. And that was your downfall,” Hange said. She started to move the chess pieces a little quicker. “Levi, play the rook out here.”

Levi quietly complied.

“Games teach things and sometimes they expose parts of ourselves… Maybe you’re just a little careful, a little set in your ways. At the same time, you lack the attention to detail. But you know, the attention to detail can make people more confident in taking risks. I couldn’t be too sure that was the piece you needed but I thought it a good risk to play with. Sometimes to make that risk, all you need is that bright new perspective. And where do you get that bright new perspective? Small details. They’re just a bunch of cyclical concepts all interconnected,” Hange said.

Levi was pulling away, leaning back on his seat. Hange was leaning forward. In that split second before Levi had leaned away, they were close enough to kiss. But still far enough for it not to happen.

Hange fell back on the chair, adjusting the pieces. “Or if you can’t see all the small details, then accept what you have for what’s right there. What do you feel? What do you want? What are you planning?”

“No plans, nothing.”

“Then start with accepting. Then observing,” Hange said. “Move your rook to the seventh rank. It’s open.”

Levi had to stare for a split second longer to understand. “Done.”

“What do you see?” Hange asked, waving her hand quickly over the board.

He had a good position. One rook at the seventh rank, the pieces were perfectly placed for an attack. “A winning position,” Levi answered.

“Details, Levi.”

Hange was patient with him. Her eyes were still boring holes into him and if he could blame anything---or anyone---for slowing down his thinking process, it would be her. “It’s a winning position.”

“Zeke’s right. You can’t see a mate in two,” Hange said. She grabbed the pieces and moved them quickly over the board. The game ended with his queen, right over Hange’s king. “A lot of games end like this. With a kiss from the enemy queen to the king…. And it looks like you won this one Levi. I promised you double right? So that’s one thousand four hundred dollars.” She pulled the bills out of her wallet and counted it out, sliding it to the side of the chess board.

“Wait, you might need---”

“Levi, I don’t mind giving it.”

“It’s your money.”

Hange shook her head. “Well, if it makes you feel better. Zeke spoils me enough.”

Levi pushed the money back. “That’s Zeke’s money not yours.”

“You don’t think I’ve accumulated my fair share of assets? I do investment too you know.”

He had put himself in a tight spot, assuming the most vulnerable position from Hange. Giving her a onceover though, he was sure he had been wrong. Hange sat straight, confidently. She had dropped the money so easily in front of him yet her eyes were observing. She wasn’t reckless with money for sure. She wasn’t lying.

Maybe refusing the money could seem insulting. So he let her push it nearer towards him. That was the same wad of cash as a while ago and Levi felt no need to count it.

“I don’t have cash on me but I’ll send you the rest of the money through phone credit,” Hange said. She turned the board over, inserting all the pieces on the hollow shapes underneath. Levi did his part pushing the pieces towards her.

Locking the board closed, Hange stood up. “Let’s go?”

“Where?”

“I’ll take you back to the room. We have to prepare for dinner.”

“Dinner?” Levi only became aware of the time then. The clock on the wall read a little past five. The rain had slowed to a drizzle and he only appreciated it then when they had turned off the air conditioner and filed out of the room.

“Looks like tomorrow might just be a good day,” Hange commented. “We could go to the beach tomorrow afternoon. If you’re fine with that.”

Levi hated swimming in the ocean. It was the world’s bathroom. It was a confluence of waste. When Hange was mentioning something about risks and bright new perspectives, he saw little reason to reject the invite. “I’m fine with that.” Might as well enjoy it while we’re here. As they walked silently, Levi took that moment to look at the setting sun, a very similar view to sunrise.

Hange had mentioned something about ‘sunrise’ and about ‘tea time.’

“You have tea time in the morning right?” Levi asked.

“Yeah, at sunrise why? You don’t have to wake up for it if you don’t wanna. Zeke and Erwin just thought it would be a good way to bond. And I’m going because… Well, Zeke’s my husband…”

“Yeah, I understand but I’m excited for it too.”

Hange’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, you wanna join too? Great! I’ll reserve a slot for you. It’s better if we have more people. The course will probably be pretty wet though but it doesn’t get muddy?”

Levi almost tensed up at the word. “Muddy?” When did tea times get muddy?

“Well, we are playing in a grassy course,” Hange said, too matter-of-factly.

Playing? "You said tea time right?” Levi made a subtle gesture, putting his hand up as if holding a tea cup.

Hange didn’t notice it. “Yeah, tee time as in the time when we start playing golf. We’re playing golf tomorrow morning. You’ve played before right?”

“Yeah, I did. A few times.” Levi said. He kept his voice casual, an utter betrayal of how he actually felt. He had never actually played golf but he wondered how ridiculous he could have looked being excited for courses of tea while watching a sunrise, an idea which turned out to have never existed in the first place. He could stick with a white lie and just google the rest later.

“Okay great! I’ll contact the coordinator then,” Hange said. She pulled out her phone and texted. “You have shoes right? Pants? We can rent the clubs… So just make sure to meet by the common room at five alright?”

Once again, Levi couldn’t say no to her.

***

It was around ten in the evening when Levi received the notification.

700 dollars was credited to your account.

He paused the video on the rules of golf and allowed himself a few minutes to just stare at the notification. Before his phone screen turned completely black, another message came.

Just sent you the money! Please check your account.

Levi had already tried to give her back the money during dinner time to no avail. Hange had just been to good at digression.

Still, she didn’t have to have it her way all the time. Levi wanted to protest in his own way. He opened his wallet, ready to send back the money only to be met with another message.

This transaction is subject to 2.9% of the total money transacted. Will you proceed?

He decided then, he could probably wait a little longer to give back the money.

#levihan fanfiction #levihan #zekehan

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 04

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, sexual harassment (please don’t read this chapter if it triggers/makes you uncomfortable, your safety comes first)

A/N:  i do realise i’m on a roll posting every day but uni starts early and idk why i keep writing like i’m running out of time😂 hope you enjoy this chapter. much love xx

* additionally, there is a light sexual harassment scene in this chapter and if anyone is uncomfortable or triggered by it i would skip it. your mental health and safety come first. *

NEXT CHAPTER

One day I’ll fly away...

She remembered the very first role she got to play as a lead. She was the standby for Glinda in Wicked. She could still feel her hand shaking as the backstage technicians secured her to the bubble. She could still hear the bubble machine engine rumble as the bubble raised up in the ceiling and for a moment she was above everything - above the audience, above the cast, above the stage itself. It felt like flying, soaring through the gasping of the crowd. She remembered feeling like this was her height, this was her flight but as things went, as she got more roles and as she progressed to the screen as she always wanted, the feeling of flying just seemed to soar, turning her into a creature of air.

Flying for Bucky was something he couldn’t remember, he remembered crashing. Remembered falling from the train waiting for the peaceful slumber of death to come but it never did, remembered the cold snow melting through his jacket reaching his skin. It’s cold. Remembered diving in after Steve, lungs filled with water, heavy suit. It’s cold, it’s quiet. Soaring was only something he could dream of while frozen or when they put him on a cell with a small window. Crashing was more like something he could remember, drowning, pushed to the bottom by his arm, wishing death came to greet him

More powerful than crashing was sound. The theatre was always filled with whistling from men getting a peak at ladies’ legs, women giggling and security trying to keep out children and teens away. You could hear the laughter reverberating from any material, it was electrifying. Her voice however seemed to melt over distorted past sounds, a melancholy while held hands with the old telling it never of its former glory but of what it can be. Bucky knew now why her agency kept her so locked up, all people with a voice eventually fly away. 

     - Don’t just stare at me. - she bite her lip, looking the other way. Did she sound that bad? She thought she sounded just fine in the shower that morning, maybe her bathroom had better acoustics. - Should we go back home? Before it gets dark?

     - Sure. - he got up from his seat, extending his hand towards her so she could jump off the set. She put her hand in his, another hand coming to rest upon his shoulder as her elevated her up into the air before bringing her down onto the worn out floor. 

The walk back to the subway was quiet. People were starting to crowd Coney Island for night time dates. Bucky remembered bringing girls to dates in Coney Island, even remembered bringing Steve along, he just didn’t remember the girls’ names anymore. There were some flashes of what they were wearing but surely those memories were replaced with that of Y/N staring at the ferris wheel as they walked back to the subway.

Once there, her child like wonder of the city that never slept and the city which she now lived in didn’t seem to leave her eyes, sparkling brighter than the billboards in Times Square. The walk back to the apartment was once again quiet, with their footsteps being the only thing echoing in the halls. Soon enough they reached her door, still looking as intact as they left it.

     - Thank you so much for showing me Coney Island. - she handed him the teddy he had won. - Thank you gift. 

     - I won it for you, Y/N. Besides, I think I’m a bit past stuffed animals. 

     - Well, I’ve had my fair share of stuffed animals to last a life time and I insist you keep this one. - she stuffed the teddy between his arms, finding it incredibly adorable how the little toy looked smaller in the middle of his arms than in hers. - Little Coney Island memento. 

     - I should get going. - he changed the subject, gesturing with his hands as he looked at the time on his watch. - It’s been a great day, Y/N.

     - The pleasure’s been all mine, Bucky. - she smiled as she held the edge of the door. She stood by the slightly opened door watching as he turned the corner which led to the lift. Once he was out of sight, Y/N walked into her apartment, closing the door behind her but still holding the knob with a silly smile on her face. 

Bucky reached the headquarters around 11 PM. Despite going the long way home, expecting Steve to be asleep when he returned. Steve had a very mundane routine when it came to sleeping, he could still sleep but he would wait until everyone was asleep for him to go to his bedroom. Bucky didn’t want to have to dance the first day in the job waltz. He knew he cared, he knew Steve wanted him to be alright. There was only one small thing; Steve wanted Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, his Bucky, and he just wasn’t that man anymore. He didn’t like being asked who he was, he doesn’t know who he is.

Opening the door to the living room, he found Captain America himself sat on the big lounge chair, skimming through his list of modern day TV shows and movies. His blue eyes moved from the bright lights of the television to him.

      - How was the first day? - he questioned, regular optimism present in his voice. Steve had remained the same, maybe it was that which made him believe the spectre of the boy Bucky was could be revived. He seemed to forget dead people can’t be revived. 

      - It was good, went to Coney Island.

      - Coney Island? - Steve muted the TV, contorted face expression settling into his youthful features. - I thought you were going to guard her door.

      - She wanted to see Coney Island. Couldn’t let her go alone?

      - Didn’t her personal assistant tell you she couldn’t leave? - he had been noisey, he had looked into Bucky’s contract. He told himself it was just in case, just in case Bucky needed his help. - You don’t want to get in any trouble, specially with agencies. They’re the devil.

      - I’ll take it into consideration. - his skin tightened as he smiled a tight straight line. 

      - Do you wanna stay for a while? I’m watching a series Sam recommended. 

      - I think I’m gonna just go to sleep.

Steve nodded allowing Bucky to return to his bedroom. There wasn’t much in the bedroom, a bed, side table and wardrobe, nothing else. No mirrors and no windows, silence, grey and black bedding, no decoration rather than a postcard his sister had sent him during the war framed in a plastic frame. No glass, Steve wanted nothing around he could harm himself with. It was almost like living in an insane asylum. 

He looked at the little teddy bear in his hands before placing it on the side table, a little smile on his face. A Coney Island memento indeed. 

The morning came rushing like the rain which fell against Y/N’s bedroom glass window. She turned around in her bedding, pushing her knitted quilt up to her nose, the scent of fresh crisp cotton invading her senses. The mood would’ve remained the same comfortable, early morning type had it not been for her comforter being yanked off her without any warning. Through the fogginess of morning sight, she could make out Ms. Olson in her traditional black suit co-ord. She thought it fitting, considering her morning was now ruined.

     - Get up. We have much to do. - she barked like an infuriating dog.

     - But I thought I had the weekend off.- Y/N rubbed the sleep of her eyes, sitting up, quilt covering her body. 

     - You have last mine commitment. Now run along and change into something more ... - he analysed her before gazing her face, tight expression settling in. - Enchanting. 

She left Y/N in the bedroom, clenching her bedding as she looked around the place she’d rather be. Nevertheless, she rose from her bed and walked up to her wardrobe grabbing the first dress she could find and a pair of heels. Her routine during work was different, she normally showered, got her makeup done, dressed and then out of the door. Mechanic, controlled, with Ms. Olson asking her to hurry up. In a split second she returned to the living room, bag held on her shoulder, sunglasses in hand as she prepared to walk out with Miss Olson.

    - You should’ve put some product on your hair. The ends look dry. - Miss Olson commented as they walked outside. She looked around hoping Bucky would be around but it was just her and Miss Olson. 

    - Is Mr. Barnes not coming? 

    - It’s a dress rehearsal. - Y/N froze in her mind. Dress rehearsals were supposed to be better than fittings but after her last experience she really wasn’t in the mood for another experience with the director.

Time seemed to stop, freeze in spot as she stepped inside the car. No noise, no sound, even colour seemed to fade as the car drove faster and faster. She wondered what she could do, open the door, roll over, maybe do it like what she had seen in Lady Bird but the driver always kept the door fully locked and Miss Olson always had her eye on her like Sauron’s Eye.

She looked at her phone in her lap, fingers loomed over Bucky’s name. He was employed by her, maybe she could ask him to come over. Maybe if he was there it would be easier. She sent the message hopeful he would reply, but the text bounced back. Looking at the network, she was lacking all the bars on her phone. Sighing, she leaned against the car seat, looking off the window, dark clouds on the blue sky mocking her. 

As the car came to a halt on the same building as before, she almost had to be pulled out the car by Miss Olson. Once inside, Y/N could see him, she could smell his patchouli fragrance as he wrapped his arm around her. She stood once again in front of the camera lights, muffled cries in her head as she was squeezed into a corset and a then a body con dress. Her eyes were blinded by the lights, behind those lights Miss Olson and Mister Powell gazing at her. Her hand slide down her collarbones to her lap, feeling the fabric as the cameras kept flashing, locking her in a case of lights. 

Once the lights dimmed, she could see them looking down at her, almost five feet tall, mumbling she couldn’t hear as one of the costume designers helped her out.

     - Costumes are looking fantastic. - the director walked up to her, hand wrapping itself around her waist, raising up to lay just below her breast. - Maybe you should try and cut some weight. You would look a bit better.

     - We’ve already started a diet plan. - Miss Olson added. - Not to worry, Mr. Powell. Y/N is fully invested in this movie.

She remained caged in the conversation, being moved by someone back onto the car and dropped at home. She looked around her hallway, wondering if it had always been this cold. As she opened the door to her home, she noticed the jar of flowers the director had sent her on her kitchen balcony. White carnations in a crystal clear jar. She stormed to the kitchen, ripping the tag of the carnations. To my perfect leading lady. The handwriting wasn’t his, probably his assistant. 

When had it all gone so wrong? Why did it felt wrong? Why did the flight felt like a burning crash? When did it all get so screwed up? 

She wrapped her hands around the glass jar, hands trembling, the sound of her ring hitting against the glass being the only thing she heard before a shattering sound filled her mind. It was fast, too fast but she threw the jar against the wall, watching as the glass shattered into a thousand pieces, falling into the ground like small diamonds. She thought it would make her feel better but instead she feel to the ground, trying to gather the pieces together as guilt embraced her. 

    - Y/N?

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[pl-panda]

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 5

MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next

-------

By the time the class landed in Gotham, Marinette and Chloé had enough. Their recorders, which were supposed to serve as damning evidence of blatant bullying, got ‘damaged’ when Lila accidentally splashed the two girls with a drink. Whatever it was, it was sticky, didn’t wash with water, and also ruined their hidden dictaphones. 

Of course, the liar made it look like it was Marinette who tripped her. The class almost hounded her, but they kept their distance not wanting to also get their clothes dirtied. Of course, Lila was occupying the bathroom for the next fifteen minutes, so when she finally left the drink already dried, making it even harder to get rid of. 

When the girls made their way out of the plane to meet with Sabine and their teacher, Lila pushed past them and came crying about how rude Marinette ruined her outfit, which was supposedly incredibly expensive. None of the intelligent people bothered to try and point out that it was cheap mass-produced junk. Alix was visibly conflicted, but also did not speak up in the end. 

“Marinette. I expected better of…” The teacher started, but then she saw both girls were hit worse than Lila, who cleaned most of it in the bathroom. 

“Sweetie…” Sabine started to rethink if a simple murder wouldn’t solve their problem.

“Don’t worry Maman. I can probably salvage it once we ret… get to Damian’s” Mari corrected herself. Luckily, it seemed like nobody caught her slip of tongue. 

“Ugh! Not that creep.” Alya complained. “He gives me shivers.” 

Mari glared at her former friend. She wanted to say something, but her teacher urged them to move. They were put into a small lounge. Marinette, of course, had to run them through a safety course, for reasons. She still did her best, as Gotham earned its reputation as the World’s Capital of Crime. 

When they were finally cleared and the class left the airport, there was a bus waiting, ready to take them to the hotel. Marinette and Chloé were about to board when a limousine pulled next to them. 

“Angel, Bourgeoise…” He greeted the girls. “Since you’ll be staying with us, my father decided to send a proper escort.”

The class stared in disbelief. The guy with a sword was loaded? It definitely looked like it from the car. 

“I bet his gramps just works as a driver and borrowed his work car,” Lila whispered to Alya and suddenly everyone was repeating the lie. “Or maybe even stole it…” 

A blade was suddenly pressed into Lila’s neck, a hair width away from drawing blood

“Tt. I will tolerate many things, but if you try to insult Alfred one more time, your end will be painful.” The class backed away in fear. Marinette immediately went to try and drag the boy away from a very pale Lila, but he wouldn’t budge. “Am. I. Clear?”

Lila was too paralyzed to answer, so he pressed the blade further. Now it was in contact with her skin and a moment of inattention could have fatal consequences. “Am. I. Clear?” He seethed.

“Yes…” She managed to whisper. 

“Tt. Good.” He sheathed his blade just as two security guards came outside to check the commotion. 

“Arrest him! He tried to murder Lila!” Alya immediately screamed. 

“No. If I did, she would be dead. I only explained certain values.” Damian deadpanned. 

The two guards looked between the class and visibly angry Damian Wayne and scratched their heads. They could report it, but they only had the word of some foreigners against the word of the son of the First Citizen of Gotham who was also the fifth richest man in the world. The cameras here stopped working, hence they came out to check what happened. 

“Children. We should be going or we’ll miss lunch at the hotel,” their teacher urged. That was enough for the guards. If the chaperone did not press charges, they wouldn’t bother. 

“But… But…” 

“Lila. Be a bigger person here and apologize to Damian.” Sabine grinned. 

“But he…”

“I don’t want to hear it!” The woman cut her off. “You must show our host some respect.”

“I didn’t…” The glare Sabine sent her and the murderous expression on Damian’s face made the words freeze in her throat. “Fine. I’m sorry Damien.”

“Tt.” Was the boy’s only response. 

Marinette and Chloé were about to leave when Rose protested. “Why are they not going with us to the hotel!?”

“Because as one of the host families, I’m allowed to welcome the students I choose to my house for the stay.” Damian did not care enough to elaborate more. Instead, he just jumped into the back seat of the Limousine. The girls followed, with Chloé going as far as sticking her tongue at the class. 

Once the doors closed and Alfred started the engine, Damian lowered the windshield and leaned outside. “By the way, it’s Damian. Damian W…” He didn’t get to finish because Marinette covered his mouth with her hand and dragged him inside. The windshield closed. 

When the car entered the main road, the girl finally let him go. 

“What was that about, Habibti?” He glared at her. 

“You were about to reveal that you’re the Damian Wayne.” She accused him.

“Tt. It’s time that liar learns who she’s dealing with.”

“It would only blow up in our faces. She would make it worse for all of us, including your family.” Seeing that both her best friend and her husband (still hard to get used to) were looking at her with no small amount of curiosity, she elaborated. “Damian Wayne is supposedly her ‘ultimate price’ from this exchange. She will want to sink her claws into you with all her skill.”

“Tt. She can try.” He huffed. His hand instinctively went to his sword. 

“You do know you are quite murderous for a Robin?” Chloé quipped.

“And you’re bratty for a lady.” 

“Bird-brain.”

“That’s Drake. Spoiled princess.”

“Daddy can afford it so why not? Trained monkey.”

“Grayson. Try harder. Talentless heiress.”

“I’m helping Marinette start her own company. Emo McBroodyPants.”

“Where did you even get that one?”

“I read.” She huffed. “And looks like I won.”

“Tt. As if.”

Marinette just sat back and watched her best friend and lover bicker there and back. It was nice that they were warming up to one another…

-----------

When Sabine finally arrived at the Manor, she was dead on her feet. Alfred was, of course, waiting for her at the entrance.

“Eventful day, Madame?”

“Don’t.” She cut him off.

“I assume it went worse than anticipated then?”

“Where is Tom?”

“Master Tom is in the kitchen. He decided to prepare some baked goods for the afternoon.”

Sabine stormed to the kitchen where she found her husband. He was clearly busy preparing the dough. After a quick greeting, she went to help him. 

“That bad?”

“Worse.” She sighed. “I really don’t understand that woman. How… She cut me whenever I tried to rein those monsters in.”

“Oh… Hand me the pin.” He interrupted himself. Sabine gave him the item, which she already had in hand when he started speaking. 

“I’m not sure if I can survive until school starts again. And even then there will be occasional afternoon trips. If it continues, I might just… I will get a jam. You did bring it?”

“I’ve put it on the counter,” Tom replied while still preparing the dough. “And don’t worry. I’m sure it’ll get better.”

“I hope so…”

---------

In the evening, Marinette, Chloé, and Sabine were introduced to the Batcave. It was indeed impressive, but Sabine was mostly interested in the training ring. She would lie if she didn’t want to test herself against the famous Batman. And she didn’t fancy committing crimes to do so. Well, for now. The class was making it more and more appealing.

“So you’re the girl that tamed Robin?” A redhead in a wheelchair rolled over to Marinette. 

“Tt. Shut up, Gordon.” Damian managed to spend a beautiful afternoon without any teasing from his family. Sadly, nothing could last forever.

“Come on baby bird. After the show you gave us on Christmas Eve, you can’t expect us to just drop it.” Dick was there, smiling cockily. 

“As much as I too want to tease that couple, I hoped for some sparring matches.” Sabine decided to save the teens. For now.

“Well, Madame, I’m happy to oblige.”

“Who’s with you?” She asked once Nightwing entered the ring.

“Um… I didn’t think you wanted a team match?” He replied, slightly confused. 

“No, no. I just thought I would have some challenge.” She smiled brightly. She was dressed in a dark-pink judoka and wooden sandals. 

“I… want.” Cass chimed in. She gracefully jumped into the ring before turning to Dick. “Alone.”

“Of course Sweetie. But I won’t go easy on you.” 

“Did not… expected.” 

The two women watched one another, neither moving from their spots. Both seemed relaxed but ready to react. Cass was first to start circling, with Sabine following. Neither could find any obvious flaws to exploit. Finally, Sabine lunged forward, only to jump to the side before getting in Cassandra’s range. The girl didn’t lose the bit and with a quick spin kicked her aunt, only to be deflected. Sabine tried to capitalize on the opening, but Cass followed her failed kick with another, launching herself in the air. Her target ducked low before trying to deliver an upper-cut punch toward the flying girl. It did connect, serving to push her back. She used the momentum to get some distance before landing on her hands and doing a double backward cartwheel and ending in a ready stance. 

“Not bad, Cassandra. I’m impressed. That boy would probably already be crying on the floor.” Sabine smiled genuinely. There was no need for banter between them. 

“Weakling.” The girl blew Dick a raspberry. 

Two women watched each other for a moment. This time, it was Sabine who initiated the actual fight. She delivered three quick punches that Cass blocked, but it created a small opening. She tried to deliver a side-kick to the girl’s head, but her opponent had the same idea. 

Their legs clashed by the shins. Sabine landed her leg firmly on the ground, but Cass once more lunged in the air, trying to use the momentum. She did two more kicks that her aunt blocked before she tried to put the older woman in a grip. Sabine, seeing the attempt, jumped back and tried to grab Cassandra’s hand, but instead, the girl spun around, delivering a powerful kick to Sabine’s side. 

The woman felt the kick, but she used the opportunity to timely grab her opponent’s foot and twist it. Cass, to avoid an injury, also had to spin in the air. She managed to attempt a kick before falling on her stomach. Her kick did force Sabine to let go of the foot to avoid having her head hurt. The girl quickly jumped on her feet, just in time to block an open-palm strike, which was followed with a kick. She did not get to respond, because Sabine made a low-sweep. Cass jumped in the air, only to find herself pushed away by another open-palm strike that, this time, connected with her chest, pushing the air out of her lungs. 

The woman followed Cass in the air, so she did not get a chance to stand up before getting pinned and rotated on her stomach. The grip that Sabine used effectively made it almost impossible to get out of before her aunt delivered a mock game-ending strike to her head. 

When Sabine stood up and helped her niece, both were panting heavily. It did not affect the accuracy with which the older of them made a back-kick, right below Jason’s belt. 

“Next time you try to sneak on either of us I will hit harder.” Sabine didn’t even bother to turn around and watch how the man curled on the floor, crying. “Good fight.” She focused her gaze on Cass, who blushed slightly.

“I lost.” 

“Well, depends on the criteria. You got the first hit, which is often decisive. And an achievement.” The woman cheered her with a broad smile on her face. Cassandra couldn’t help but also smile. “We could both use some more practice. I definitely would’ve taken you when I caught your foot and if you capitalized on the initial advantage you could’ve ended the fight.”

“It is an honor… training… with you.”

“Thank you, my dear. I also enjoyed it.” Sabine then turned to the gobsmacked group. The fight must have looked more impressive than she thought. 

“Did you just… defeat Cass in less than five minutes…?” Tim asked, unable to form a smooth sentence.

“Well, Sandra always said that I was the better one in unarmed combat. She does rock with swords though. And you should’ve seen her in that club in Tokyo. She’s definitely the dancer of the family, or rather was. I enjoy Cass’s ballet more.”

The great moment was interrupted by Batman speaking to everyone over the comms. 

“Suit up. We’ve got a hostage situation at Gotham Plaza.”

“For the love of Kwami… Please tell me it’s not my class.” Marinette groaned. 

“Tt. Of course it’s them.” Damian pulled his phone, showing her a live feed from the news helicopter. On the rooftop, there was a clearly visible group of teenagers, surrounded by goons with guns aimed at them. Near the edge stood a guy in a two-color suit. Half white and half black, with a red and black tie to complete the mad image. Half of his face was badly damaged and purple. 

“If Batman doesn’t show here to save his precious sidekick soon, we shall see if the little birdie can actually fly.”

Everyone who met Lila groaned. 

“I assume we can’t just let him deal with her?” Marinette asked hopefully.

“Sadly, Angel, it would be bad for our image.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“The two of you are sitting this out.” Batman walked into the cave, already in his suit. “We can’t risk any of them recognizing you two and it’s too early for Ladybug and Chat to appear. It would be too easy to associate their appearance with you two coming to Gotham.”

Seeing Damian’s irritated face, Marinette decided to intervene before she had a fight on her hands “Let’s do a movie night. I’m sure you have a theatre room somewhere in here.” 

Immediately, the boy brightened. “No Bourgeoise?”

“I think Chloé has other plans for the evening.” She nodded toward where the blonde was talking excitedly with Cass, trying to convince her to train her.

“Good.” Damian offered his hand and the two left the cave.

“Damn! I didn’t get the chance to tease him about the proposal.” Jason looked really dejected. 

--------

Masterlist // Next

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous lb #maribat #maribat au #marinette dupain cheng #maridami #Damian Wayne #Damian al Ghul #damienette #arranged marriage AU #batman #BatFam #miraculous dc #mlb #mlb x dc

[bangtae-sohotddaeng]

we’ll be counting stars | k.th. | 2

(^ gif cred: ON THE VOYAGE | pinterest)

pairing: idol!Taehyung x publisher!Reader

rating: nc-17 (for language and themes)

summary: You’d sworn off love and relationships forever. You were here to do your job - work with the biggest boyband of the world. Not forge friendships and...and whatever it was that you and Taehyung were building up with these sneaky glances. It was, to be very fair, your Chief Editor’s fault that you’d landed in this mess. Maybe you should quit your job? Maybe you should quit life -

Oh, he was staring again, and did he freaking lick his lips?

warnings: swearing (reader’s got a potty mouth) + this is set like 5 years in the future + reader has emotional issues, she's a relationship phobe + mentions of weed

genre: so much ANGST ugh + fluff + comedy + some crack

words: 3.3 k

< prev | next > series masterlist

gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

“We’re all clear on the schedule, but I’ll repeat it for your sake,” you announced.

Your team was huddled around you, right outside the airport, with their luggage in their hands. You’d landed in Seoul less than an hour ago.

“So, right now, we’re going to take a cab to the hotel our company has booked us. We’ll rest, let our bodies recharge and adjust—because we left on Friday morning and reached Saturday morning in thirteen hours.” You grimaced. “Dunno about you, but my mind needs to adjust.”

You received collective groans of agreement in response.

“Great, you feel me. So we all do that first. And then we’ll collect in the lobby after lunch, at around 4 pm? I’ll have a word with BTS’ manager, and he’ll arrange for our commute. I’ll update you of the exact time, then. For now, let’s just go grab naps.”

You all hailed three taxis to the hotel, with Sana grabbing you by the elbow to make you sit with her. You did so, with a frown. She looked nervous. 

“Y/N!” she almost wailed as soon as you’d shut the door. 

The driver looked at her in alarm. You winced in embarrassment, and apologized in Korean. He started the car without a word.

“Sana, compose yourself. What is the matter with you?” you scolded the girl.

“Y/N, how am I gonna face him? I might freeze up at sight! And—and what if my brain starts to think up scenarios from… oh God, you won’t believe the kind of fanfiction-stuff I’ve read about him!”

Your ears started to warm up. You had some idea. It had been a while, sure, but you could still vividly remember the kind of fanfictions you yourself had indulged in—

Wait a second. This girl was gonna make you nervous, too!

“Okay, Sana, enough. It doesn’t matter how cute you find Yoongi, he’s our client. We’re gonna have to be formal with him. At all costs. We mess it up, we lose our jobs. You get that? So, think about your husband, try to be the professional woman he married, and for God's sake, stop making me overthink shit!”

Sana shut up, then, but her eyes still looked worried. "How do you do it, Y/N?"

You frowned. "How do I do what? I don't have a fucking crush on Yoongi!"

She gave a small laugh, looking slightly more at ease. "Exactly! How?"

You blinked, confused.

"I mean," she elaborated, "not just him. In general. How do you manage to not get dragged down by feelings and stuff?"

"I kinda had to." You snorted. "People are like leeches, Sana. You only stand a chance for a good, peaceful life if you avoid getting too close to them. Get caught up in feelings, get your soul sucked out of you. Get crushed under expectations, live the rest of your life trying to fulfil them. Die on the inside before your body perishes.” You shrugged. “A pretty horrid way to die, if you ask me.”

Sana gave a huff of laughter. “Who hurt you, Y/N?”

You froze. Sana probably said that rhetorically, but it still hit you hard enough.

It wasn’t the question of who hurt you, but actually, who you had hurt.

You shut your eyes for a few extended seconds, willing yourself to not think of the past. You succeeded for the most parts, too. But then Sana nudged your shoulder.

“Hey, I didn’t—I didn’t mean to upset…you…” She trailed off with a worried look on her face when you shot her a glare. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not upset,” you grumbled, turning to look out of the window. “I’m just done with my quota of personal-unnecessary-unneeded-interactions with people, for the day.”

You heard Sana sigh. Mentally, you sighed, too.

You all found the two vans a bit excessive. There were eight seats in one—there were seven of you. But Manager Woo insisted that the boys actually used three of these to commute, so even this was a bit miserly of the management.

Rich people problems. 

You shook your head with a small smile. “It’s all okay,” you said to the Manager in Korean, following his lead into the BigHit offices where you were to meet your clients for the first time, ever.

You chanced a discreet glance at Sana. Maybe your frustrated, shitty pep-talk in the taxi had actually worked, because she looked a lot more held together than she had ever since you dragged her onboards with this project.

“This way,” Manager Woo instructed you, gesturing towards a lift. “The security personnel will lead you to the second floor, and into the meeting room. I will join you in a while.”

You bowed and your team followed, and then you all stepped into the elevator that looked big enough to hold the meeting within itself. Two security guards, all suited up with a tie and fitted with earpieces in a stereotypical bodyguard look, followed you in.

You exhaled, rubbing your hands together. “Guys,” you addressed your team in English. “You all have the detailed itinerary on your tabs, right?” At their nods, you pulled your own iPad out. “Good. Keep it on you when I talk about it with them.”

“Y/N,” Simon called out to you.

You looked at the fidgety guy with raised eyebrows.

“Are we gonna stick with the choices…” He trailed off when your eyes narrowed.

“We’ve spent more than seventy-two hours researching, Simon. Please stop with this.”

Simon gulped, but shut up. 

The elevators opened up, just then. One of the guards stepped out, and gestured towards the glass doors on the right. “That is the meeting room,” he said in Korean.

You all stepped out, elegantly, and you turned to bow to the two guards. “Thank you,” you said in Korean

They bowed in return, looking slightly flustered, and stepped back into the lift. You turned to face the meeting room, inhaled deeply, and then exhaled.

“Come on, guys. Showtime.”

You led your team as they walked behind you in pairs. Once you got to the doors, a guard stepped up from inside the room, and opened the doors for you.

A long meeting table sat in the centre of the room, with seven occupants on one of its sides. BigHit’s Founder and CEO sat at the head of the table, and the foot lay vacant—reserved for, you assumed, the Manager. Seven chairs also lay vacant for your team, opposite the BTS members.

As the door gave way, the CEO met your eyes. You gulped your nerves, and plastered a smile on your face. As you all crossed the threshold, the eight people seated on the table stood.

Dragging in a deep breath, you placed your tablet on the table before you faced them all. “Hello everyone,” you enunciated in Korean, and then bowed.

Your team followed your lead, and the people in the room bowed back. You kept your professional smile in place, discreetly wiping your sweating hand on the thigh of your cotton pants. Then you nodded at the CEO and he asked everyone to settle down.

“Welcome to Korea,” the CEO started. “Did you get here okay?”

“Besides the jet-lag, we’re actually very good,” you told the CEO to receive chuckles in response.

“Manager Woo will join us in a few seconds,” he then continued, looking between your team and the boys—that you were yet to properly look at—and gestured towards them. “Meanwhile, let’s introduce ourselves. I’m Bang Si-Hyuk, BigHit’s founder and CEO. Nice to meet you.”

You bowed, telling him your own name, and then shook hands with CEO Bang. Standing from your place, you finally willed your gaze to focus on the faces of the members instead of nervously looking into space.

Oh, wow. Cameras didn’t do these guys any justice, apparently. Not even the 8K ones, because they were really freaking beautiful human beings.

Dressed in lounge wear consisting mainly of extremely baggy hoodies as far as you could gauge, they still managed to look jaw-droppingly gorgeous. And their skin was glowing so bright, it looked unreal. But it was very much real because you were sitting across a three foot wide table from them, you could tell. It looked so soft.

You’d tightly held your lips up in a smile to save your mouth from dropping open.

While you were trying to get a grip on yourself, your eyes landed on a pair of brown ones framed by gorgeous lashes, right opposite to you. They were looking down. But then, they were looking up, as if sensing your gaze on them. Your professional grin involuntarily melted into a genuine one as Taehyung gave you a bashful nod of acknowledgement. You nodded back.

“Hello,” you mumbled, watching as his eyes grew wider. You blinked, releasing how private that sounded. You cleared your throat and ducked your head before looking at all of the seven guys in turn and nodding at each one of them. “Hello to you all,” you addressed them in Korean this time and told them your name. “And this is my team.” You gestured with both hands to your sides. “We’ll be your interviewers and companions for the next six months.”

A flurry of bows, nods and hellos passed over the table, followed by your teammates announcing their names. You doubted any of these would be retained, including your own. Which is why you handed over the seven identical copies of all your resumes to the CEO. “Here, Mister CEO. My boss had mailed them over to you, but these are to help the boys get acquainted with us better,” you told the man, and he gave you an appreciative seeming smile.

“That’s thoughtful of you,” Namjoon suddenly said, smiling with dimples up at you from his place on Taehyung’s right. His black hair was ruffled and a circular framed pair of glasses rested on his eyes. “I’m RM,” he said in English, “but please call me Namjoon. It’s a pleasure meeting you and your team.”

You smiled wide, shaking his hand when he forwarded it. His skin felt super soft, just as you’d expected it to be by looking at it.

The rest of the boys followed suit, minus the handshaking. They all insisted you all call them by their real names, which felt almost funny to you, because you were gonna be unwinding their whole life. This felt so unnecessary.

Just then, the door opened and Manager Woo reappeared. He bowed his head in the CEO’s direction before taking a seat to your extreme left, at the foot of the table. “Hello, everyone,” he said, “did I miss anything?”

“Just the introductions,” Namjoon filled him in with a smile. 

Manager Woo nodded and then looked at you. “The next thing to talk about is the schedule your team has planned for us, so that we can sort out any doubts or disagreements that might be there.”

Nodding, you pulled up the itinerary on your iPad, and cleared your throat. “I have planned out a strategy of working on interviews, and then sitting back to compile everything in an orderly fashion,” you announced. “We’ll divide each one of the six months we have on our hands into two groups—three weeks of discussions, and one week of compilation. All seven of us would be working with one member each, one on one, continuously for a time span of three weeks. After that my team will sit together, compare notes and move forth with the actual writing part. Then we’ll check if something has been missed by someone and arrange for its cover up, before we move forward into the next set of three weeks.”

You turned to look at your team to see if any of them wished to add anything, but they nodded at you with discrete thumbs ups. You exhaled in relief.

CEO Bang nodded at Manager Woo, who hummed in response. “Sounds workable to me. Boys?” He gestured towards the band members.

You looked up to find seven pairs of round eyes and gawking mouths. 

Murmurs ran across the seven angels seated opposite you. While they were distracted, you took your sweet time looking at each one of their faces. They really did look unreal.

Next to CEO Bang, Jin and Yoongi were engrossed in some discussion. With their heads bent, their hair shined blindingly bright—Yoongi’s like liquid silver, and Jin’s like molten lead. Next to Jin, Namjoon was adjusting his glasses over his shut eyes as he listened to Taehyung whisper something in his ear, and kept shaking his head in response every few seconds. Taehyung was almost drowning in his oversized hoodie with the hood up, as he used his hands with those elegant ass fingers of his to cover his mouth while speaking into Namjoon’s ear. Next to him, Jimin was nodding along to Hoseok as the latter spoke in whispers, gesticulating widely. 

Your eyes fell onto the far end of the table, then. Jungkook, who was already looking at you, shot his hand up when your gazes met. His eyes were literally sparkling with curiosity.

“Yes?” you asked with a big smile.

Jungkook flashed his teeth at you, looking not a day over five years of age. “Is one week enough time to write?”

You frowned. “In theory, yes. But if things go south and we need more time, we can always extend the contract. Mr. CEO?”

“According to the clauses in the contracts, definitely.” CEO Bang nodded with a small smile. “The book has to be good. We can compromise with everything, except for the quality.”

You nodded in understanding. There was an extendable clause in your contract, but you had every intention to not have to employ it. Not only did your boss have huge expectations from you, but you yourself were determined to give this project your best. Better than your best. You’d wanted to manage a complete project by yourself for so long, this was your chance of a lifetime to shine.

Taehyung’s hand shot up, breaking you out of your thoughts. He looked beyond adorable with his eyes rounded and lips nervously folded in.

“Ye—yes?” you stuttered very unprofessionally and then covered up with a cough.

“Who works with who?” he said in a breath, confusing you for a moment. “Will you take chits out? Or ask us to choose?”

“Oh, no no.” You chuckled when you caught his drift. “We’ve already decided among ourselves and also done some homework. You’ll find your personal interviewers in your contract copies.”

“Did you decide by picking out chits?” Namjoon grinned at you, and you laughed.

It had been chits, but you weren't about to tell them that. “Something like that.” You shrugged, playfully, and giggles rolled over the table.

Manager Woo, then, launched into a set of instructions for the band members. CEO Bang kept adding details in the middle, and the band members just kept nodding along in a bored fashion. Maybe they’d been over this multiple times.

You sat back to relax, observing everyone as you listened to the set of rules and procedures you were already familiar with. You looked from the corner of your eye as Jimin elbowed Taehyung. 

“Did you want to work with someone in particular?” Jimin’s whisper into Taehyung’s ear floated over to you.

Taehyung’s eyes briefly met yours, nearly burning a hole through your head by the deep curiosity emanating from them. And then he ducked his head again, shrugging Jimin off of him. 

You swallowed, roughly. Oh, God.

Manager Woo wound up his instructions with a repetition of be as honest as you can be, and then called out to you. “Do you wish to add something, Miss?”

You looked at your team. They shrugged. You shrugged, too. “You’ve covered it really well, Mister Manager. I’d actually like to emphasize one of your points—this is not an interview.” You looked across the table, at each of their faces, turn-wise. “There would be no cameras, no recorders, and no one monitoring your actions. Relax and be at ease. You should, in fact, think of the sessions as making new friends. You tell them about yourself, and they tell you about themselves. Only difference being, what you tell them will get compiled in a book so there must be a bit more of that.”

Your eyes met Taehyung’s and he nodded with a small laugh. The others gave you similar reactions, with Hoseok giving a two-fingered salute.

“That’s good. Also, Miss, we would like to request your team to work around the boys’ bodyguards.” Manager Woo looked at you earnestly.

“We’re really very grateful that you’ve agreed to our request for privacy and not enforced the sessions to be with the boys’ managers.” You shrugged a shoulder, and exchanged glances with Sana and Nathan. “And so, we would be okay working in the presence of the bodyguards, no issues.”

Your team hummed and nodded their own agreements. Manager Woo nodded back with a huge smile, looking relieved.

“We have the first interview scheduled for the day after tomorrow,” he then said as he distributed the individual contract copies among the BTS members and then your team. “Have a look at the details, one last time.”

You could, by this point, recite the clauses of the contract in your sleep. Yet, to be respectful, you accepted the file and placed it before yourself. You looked to your right and then left at your team. “Any questions, guys?”

Meryl raised her hand. Your eyebrows rose in intrigue. You gestured for her to speak up. “Yeah, um. About the secrecy clause—can we get a rough estimate as to when the news of the biography will be released?”

You nodded along. That was kind of a good question.

Manager Woo looked at CEO Bang, and all seven boys’ eyes adorably followed. CEO Bang readjusted his glasses. “We are planning a press conference at the end of six months.” Whoa. “I believe you’re going to have to keep this secret for the entirety of the project.”

You exhaled. It was gonna be kinda hard, but you’d manage. 

“I got you!” 

Your head snapped up at Jungkook’s shout of joy. He held the file in one hand and the other was raised up, mid-cheer. When all eyes fell on him, he froze for a moment before folding onto himself, bashfully. The boys all broke out laughing. You too had to stifle yours, by looking down in your lap, to maintain your professionality. 

When you looked up after a moment, your eyes met Taheyung’s again. He seemed to be slightly confused and kept looking between the file in his hand, you and Jungkook.

“Si… Simon?” he whispered with a heavy accent, but it was all you could hear despite the chaotic discussions happening all around you. 

You pointed at the guy sitting next to you. “Him,” you responded in English.

Taehyung’s eyes reverted back to you. “You?” he asked in English, very quietly.

You paused. “Jungkook,” you responded, gesturing to the still blushing boy with your eyes. And then, realizing how intimate your exchange was, you flashed him a professional smile. “Simon is great at conversation! You’ll have a good time with him,” you old him loudly, in Korean, earning smiles from the Manager and CEO.

Taehyung had still looked a bit lost when you tore your gaze away from him and picked up your tablet, but you willed yourself to unlock the gadget and not let your eyes stray.

This was just your first meeting, and Taehyung’s person’s intensity was already too much to handle. You thanked God you weren't gonna work with him one on one, or you won’t survive.

But, little did you know.

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gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

Tags: @tangledsparkles​ @hoefortaeshands​ @getmemyfries

#taehyung angst #bts angst #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #taehyung imagine #bts imagine #bts v #v angst #v fluff #v imagine #wbcs #*mine

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

could you write prompt 46 and 50 with maxwell lord please? :)

Thank you so much for the request! I...well I was writing this as a blurb and it turned into a 2,400-word oneshot...I hope that’s ok....

#46 Family Traditions & #50 Christmas Movies with Maxwell Lord 

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Reader

Rating: 18 + for language 

My Masterlist 

Taglist: @josepedropascal @yespolkadotkitty @oldstuffnewstuff @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 Let me know if you wanna be added. :D 

Christmas in Aspen 

If someone had asked you a month ago what your plans for Christmas were, you would have said spending it with your family in Maine. Eating lobster, and watching Christmas movies, listening to your older twin brothers arguing over the wishbone from the Turkey, Aunt Marge telling one of her outlandish tales of a dalliance with a younger man while you shared amused looks with your father. You would have never thought you would be in a lodge in Aspen with your boss. 

Maxwell Lord was a man who held control of all things in his life. He ran his business, personal life, and employees with a firm hand and that included you. You had lasted longer than the last four secretaries, all of which had slept with him expected him to fall madly in love with them, and had their hearts shattered when he coldly rejected them. 

Upon first meeting him you had flat out told him you were not going to be another notch in his best post and if he respected you then you wouldn’t have any problems with him. You worked well together, he was the cunning ruthless businessman, and you had become his humanity. 

In the year you had been working for him, he had learned as much from you as you had learned from him. Such as using manners and including you in decisions. Except the Christmas season had seemed to bring out the worst in Maxwell Lord. Maybe it was the appearance of his toxic mother who informed him she booked herself an exclusive spa getaway in Paris for the holiday season or the amount of work that came at the end of the year but he was excruciating. 

“Cancel your plans for tomorrow, we are going to the lodge in Aspen,” he tosses his heavy outer coat onto your desk and goes into his office slamming the door behind him. 

You quickly spin from your chair ignoring the coat, and follow him into the office, “Maxwell? I can’t go to Aspen...it’s Christmas.” 

“I need you in Aspen with me, if you’re unable to do that I can find someone else to take your place and can find yourself a new job,” he sneers from behind the oak desk and you take a step back at the hostility rolling off him in waves. 

Never one to be intimidated you bite back, “Fine then Mr. Lord, pray to tell me what we will be doing in Aspen so that I may make the appropriate arrangements.” 

You see a small fracture in his composure at the use of his last name but he continues to glare, “I am a very busy man, please make sure the jet is fueled and the lodge is prepared for our arrival. I am sure you can figure out the rest.”

“Fine,” you snap leaving his office and slamming the door behind you. You shake out his coat and place it on the rack outside his door. Sitting back at your desk and running your hands through your hair you make the appropriate calls and get everything prepared for the weekend. Saving your parent’s number for last. To say your family was less than thrilled about you spending the holiday with your boss in Aspen was an understatement but what could you do? 

Despite everything you had seen the man say and do over the past year you couldn’t deny how you felt about him. Maxwell Lord; with his mismatched patterns, suspenders, blonde hair, and ring-covered fingers had wormed his way into your heart. Because beneath all the vanity, money, and attitude you knew who he really was inside, a man who just needed to be loved. 

You sigh glancing at the clock and move to collect your things, the door to his office opens slowly and he approaches your desk cautiously. He sighs running his hand through his hair, and you look up into his tired dull eyes. “Listen...I’m sorry about how I behaved in there...I know that it’s hard to be away from your family on the holiday but I…” 

“You what?” you whisper and his eyes soften. 

“I need you with me...I have to close this deal and they only want to meet this weekend, if it was any other time you know I wouldn’t keep you from your family.” 

You stand and come around the desk before him, “Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

He lowers his gaze before looking back into your eyes and holding contact. You feel your lungs constrict as his hand comes up to gently rest against your cheek and you subconsciously lean into his hold. Never breaking eye contact, he leans down and you lean forward until he suddenly pulls away, withdrawing and walking out of the office. You stand there confused...what the hell…

The next morning you pull on a pair of fleece leggings, a grey sweater dress with your black knee-high boots, and catch a taxi to the airport. You board the jet and sit down across from Maxwell who arrived early as usual. The stewardess hands you a steaming cup of coffee and you down half of it before taking off. The whole flight is tense as Maxwell ignores you, reading through paperwork and jotting down notes every few minutes. You keep your eyes on him and catch him several times trying to look at you before quickly averting his eyes. 

When you land you disembark and the driver greets you both. You slide into the back of the limo behind him and your leg brushes against him in the backseat. He looks down and doesn’t say anything only shifting closer. The drive is short and the town is charming as the storefronts glitter in the twinkle lights, and brightly colored decorations. Children run up and down the sidewalk and a lopsided snowman sits in the snow with a corncob pipe and button nose. 

You feel a pang of sadness thinking of the snowman building competition your family hosts every year. Maxwell notices your lips turning down and whispers, “What’s wrong?”

You sniffle, “My family has this tradition, every Christmas Eve we all go outside and everyone tries to outdo each other with the best snowman. I won a few years ago, it was great! At the end of the summer season, I got a bikini for cheap and brought it with me and made a snowman laying on the ground sunbathing in the bikini.” You laugh at the memory and Maxwell chuckles beside you. 

“What other traditions does your family have?” 

“Oh, we have a whole bunch! We always bake cookies and decorate them together, the snowman competition, and we always watch It’s a Wonderful Life.” 

“What’s that?” 

You freeze and look at him, mouth gaping, “You don’t know what It’s a Wonderful Life is?!” 

He shakes his head and you huff crossing your arms, “Well that is what we are doing tonight after all these damn meetings, we are watching a Christmas movie!” 

“Alright then, if that will make you happy,” he nods and your heart stops as you meet his smiling eyes. His smile drops slightly and he looks down at your lips. You lean toward him and he leans toward you...you’re just about to kiss when the car comes to a stop. 

“Mr. Lord we are here sir,” the driver says from the front seat and you jump away scrambling to get out of the limo. Your cheeks burning in the frigid air. 

You hear him exit behind you and brush against you as he walks into the lodge. You clear your throat and follow him inside. The clients are already there in the living space and Maxwell introduces you both before you excuse yourself to talk with the other assistants over by the bar. Pouring yourself and Maxwell a cup of coffee and bringing it over to him, he nods and you shiver as his fingers brush against your own. 

The meeting takes most of the afternoon and into the beginning of the evening. Your feet aching from standing in your heels as you shift from foot to foot. The group begins to wrap things up and trickle out until all that’s left is you and Maxwell. “Did you want me to order some dinner?” 

“Yes, that sounds good. I am going to go shower from traveling.” He retreats into the master bedroom and you walk over to the phone ordering the Christmas dinner special from the local restaurant. The food arrives before Maxwell remerges and you work on placing it on plates. Filling them to the brim with prime rib, mashed potatoes, green beans, and fresh-baked rolls.

The smell of food drawls out Maxwell and he comes out wearing a pair of red flannel pants and a white t-shirt holding a small bag in one hand. Your mouth drops open, having never seen him in such comfortable clothes before. “This is for you,” he pushes the bag into your hands, “Go take a shower and change, I’ll open the wine.” 

You cock your head at him and walk backward toward your bedroom. When you close the door behind you, you pour the contents of the bag on your bed and laugh. Red flannel pajama bottoms and a white v-neck shirt come tumbling out. He...he bought you matching pajamas...You smile broadly before quickly showering and pulling on the clothes a pair of fuzzy black socks tumbling onto the floor. 

You walk out and see him lounging on the couch the plates untouched on the coffee table before him. A bottle of red wine uncorked and breathing. He looks up and a small smile graces his lips as you give him a little turn, “What do you think?” you tease. 

“I think you’re beautiful,” he says so quietly you almost miss it. 

You plop down on the couch beside him and he pours you each a glass of wine handing it to you. You tuck into your dinners and his watch beeps from his wrist. He reaches for the remote turning it on and flipping through the channels. The opening credits of It’s A Wonderful Life begins and you turn with a huge grin at Maxwell. 

“You looked up the channel and the time?”

“I...It’s important to you. It’s no big deal I just called the front desk to look in the TV guide.” 

“Thank you,” you finish your dinners in silence, and when you're done you pull over the wool blanket draped over the couch. Pulling it over both of you and placing your head on his shoulder. You smile when you feel his head tilt to lay atop your own and you sigh. 

Halfway through the movie the doorbell rings and Maxwell rises to get it, returning with hot chocolate topped with marshmallows and a big bowl of popcorn. “Did you...did you order this?” 

“I...I wanted to do something special for you...since it’s Christmas,” he hands you a mug of the steaming liquid and you blow before taking a drink moaning at the sweet flavor. Maxwell gulps and watches your lips with rapt attention. You look into his eyes and slowly put down your mug, leaning into him and he leans into you. You can feel his warm breath on your lips when the doorbell rings again. You jump and scurry back to the other side of the couch. 

“Fuck,” Maxwell hisses and goes to the door yanking it open, “What the fuck do you want?!” 

Wide-eyed and mouths gaping is a whole choir of Christmas carolers. “Oh...shit,” Maxwell lets out a breath and turns back to your grimacing. You look back and forth between the choir and Maxwell’s face and burst out laughing. A few of the adults start laughing too until everyone except Maxwell is cracking up. You rise from the couch and go over to the door wrapping an arm around his waist and laying your head on his chest. The man has an ego the size of an elephant he never likes when people laugh at him but he forgives you as he wraps his arms around your waist and holds you tight against his chest. “Please sing for us,” you sigh and the choir sings Carol of the Bells, a personal favorite of yours. 

When they’re done you clap and cheer and poke him in the chest until he joins too. They thank you before going over to the next lodge. You close the door and turn to Maxwell smiling, “that was lovely, this whole evening has been perfect. I like my family traditions but...I’ve really enjoyed sharing them with you.” 

“I have too...it’s been a very long time since I have spent a Christmas with someone...even longer since it was someone I care about.” 

You tense and look into his eyes for any sign of teasing and when you find none you move closer. You lean into him and he leans into you. No one opens the door or rings the doorbell, or speaks when your lips finally meet his. 

His lips are soft and warm against yours and his arms envelope around your waist, pulling your arms up to wrap around his neck, your fingers sliding through his hair musing it. His lips travel down your neck and he moans, “Fuck I have been wanting to do this for months…” 

You pull away and look at him, lips swollen, eyes blown open, and his hair...god he looks freshly fucked. “You have?” the question comes out more vulnerable than you’d hoped, “Don’t lie to me, Maxwell...I refuse to be another one of your conquests.” 

He scoffs, turning away, “Do you think they are even in the same league as you!? If I wanted to just fuck you, baby you and I both know I would have done it already,” he’s angry and pacing, months of frustration boiling to the surface. “Do you honestly fucking think I would have made up some bull shit deal to spend Christmas with any of them?! Do you think I would have called their father to ask about their family traditions!? Do you think I wo-” 

You grab the front of his shirt and smack your lips to his. This kiss is hungrier than the others, both of you pining for the other for so long. The volcano of emotion erupting between you until you can no longer breathe. Panting you press your forehead into his, “You love me, don’t you Maxwell Lord?” you murmur against his lips. 

He presses his lips gently against yours, “I really fucking do…” he whispers back.

You smile and look up meeting his eyes, “Merry Christmas Maxwell.” 

He returns the smile before pulling you back in for another kiss, “Merry Christmas Darling.” 

#Pedro Pascal #maxwell lord #Maxwell Lord x reader #Christmas #ww84 #Wonder Woman 1984

[pennylanefics]

Different - Michael Gray | pt. 2

a/n: not super happy with how this turned out, but oh well :/

•••

You’ve been at your parents’ for a few days now, with no letter or call from Michael. After that night that you finally stood up to him, you thought everything would blow over. Unfortunately, he didn’t understand that you still needed a break.

With how things went, you weren’t sure if you were still together. The following morning, when you were making breakfast for yourself, Michael didn’t say a word, nor did he even spare you a glance. It was heartbreaking, knowing that things had lightened up just a bit before he suddenly turned.

“Honey?” Your mother calls from the kitchen. You were lounging on the couch, reading, while she made dinner for the two of you. Your father was out of town, sadly, but you still enjoyed spending time with just your mom.

“Yeah?”

“How’s Michael? Why didn’t he come with you?” You freeze, your book falling into your lap. You hadn’t exactly told your mom that Michael is the reason you’re here. You didn’t want her stressing out and worrying over your relationship.

“Um, he just had some things for work that he couldn’t get out of. And he’s been good. Stressed, but good.”

“I can’t imagine running that business with Tommy. He has to be overworked and surrounded by negative influences.”

“Mum, don’t.”

“No. I hate that he’s a Blinder and involved with those awful men.”

“Those awful men are his family. He’s been lied to his entire life, so the fact that he can finally be who he really is and be with his real family is more important than who they are. And why does it matter if he’s involved?”

“Because it means he’s dangerous.”

“He’s never shown any reason to lead me to believe he is.”

“Really? He’s never come home with a bloody hand, bruised face, busted lip?”

“I mean, yeah, but-”

“That’s it. You need to get out of this relationship.” You were taken aback. You weren’t expecting this conversation to go this way, and you sure as hell didn’t expect your own mother to tell you to break things off in your own relationship.

“What?”

“I don’t want you around him anymore. He’s corrupted, he’s getting to be like a second Tommy, and I don’t want you becoming like them.”

“You know I would never be like them! What are you even saying, mum!”

“Come back home. It’s been so nice having you here again and I can tell you’re so much more relaxed than when you arrived.”

“As much as I love living in the prairie, my life is with Michael now. Though I’m not sure if he feels the same way.” This catches your mother’s attention quickly as you curse to yourself for slipping up.

“What did he do?”

“It’s nothing, really. Please just leave it.”

“Tell me.” You stand, ignoring her, and walk right outside to the front yard. You hear her calling for you, but you run to your favorite hideout spot, a place you often visited with Michael.

You relax there for a while, though your brain was running faster than ever. You were going back and forth, between city life and prairie life, living with Michael and living with your parents. Finally, you came to the decision that you wanted.

“I’m going to head back into the city,” you tell your mother after walking back into your old home. As much as you missed the countryside, you missed Michael more. And even though he possibly doesn’t want you there, you were willing to see him again. You needed to fix things.

“What? Why?”

“Because I’d rather be miserable and surrounded by violence with Michael than to be reminded that my own mother wanted to force me to break up with the only man I’ve ever loved.” With that, you head upstairs and pack your things before walking to your car and driving the long way back to Birmingham.

You arrive back at your place late at night, fully expecting Michael to be away, drinking with his family or doing some sort of business. But no. Surprisingly, Michael was sat in a chair in the sitting room, Polly standing near the fireplace as she talked to him.

“Oh hi, darling,” she says when her eyes land on you. Michael quickly whips his head around, his eyes wide and in shock.

“Hi,” you whisper. Polly smiles and sets her tea cup down, saying that she’ll be in the kitchen. Michael stands and shoves his hands in his pockets.

“You came back,” he says. You nod shyly and fold your hands in front of you.

“Yeah. Um, I guess I missed it here.”

“That’s a surprise considering days ago you were going on about how much you hated it here.”

“I was upset over the fact that I felt neglected in our relationship. I still love you, Michael, I just didn’t feel loved back.”

“That’s bullshit. I told you I still loved you yet you still ran off to your parents.”

“Because I needed a break to see them and just get a breather!”

“Then why didn’t you stay, huh!? I’m sure as hell doing a lot better without you!” Well, that hurt.

“I came back because I realized that I’d rather be with you in a shitty city than to be without you in the countryside!” This shuts him up. He knows how much you love back home and just being among the fields and flowers.

“What?”

“I did a lot of thinking and I realized that I was longing for you every night I was there. I went to sleep imagining you were holding me, and when I went out to our favorite spot, I imagined you were right next to me.”

“You obviously didn’t miss me too much since you were itching to get away from me when we were together.” You groan out in frustration but continue to fight.

“You keep thinking these things based on nothing! I told you it wasn’t personal that I wanted to go back home for a bit, I told you I still loved you, yet you stand here and accuse me of all the opposite things! I don’t get you, Michael! Maybe my mother was right.” He raises his eyebrows and stares in confusion.

“Right about what?”

“She told me I needed to break up with you. And right now, I really think I should listen to her.” Without saying another word to Michael, or letting him reach out for you, you walk out of the sitting room and head to the kitchen to talk to Polly.

“What is it, dear?” She asks as you take a seat across from her at the table.

“What’s up with Michael lately? I don’t understand why he’s not listening to me or getting anything I say.”

“He’s been...quite stressed with work. Tommy’s on his back abou a new client and he’s feeling pressured. He’s been awful to us as well. Won’t listen to a word we say, if we do say something, he twists it into what he thinks he’s hearing.”

“Yes, that’s what he did with me. Everything I said, he said the opposite or something I wasn’t even thinking. It’s frustrating and annoying.”

“Don’t take it personal, love. I know he cares for you and he just needs to step back from work and realize that you care for him as well.”

“That’s what he said he was going to do, but then he blew up about how I still wanted to go back home for a bit.”

“I talked with Tommy and the others and they agreed to give him some time off, at least until he becomes bearable to be around.” You giggle and look down at your hands, nervously twiddling them.

“I really do love him, Polly. I don’t know why he doesn’t see it.” Unbeknownst to you, Michael had followed you and was listening to your conversation with Polly right outside the doorway. His heart breaks at the tone of your voice and the amount of hurt in it.

“He knows it, darling. He was telling me how he’s scared to lose you. He wanted you to come back and wanted you to come to Tommy’s wedding.”

“Well he just told me he was doing better without me and he wished I stayed back home.” Just then, Michael appears, tears in his eyes.

“I said that shit because I came to terms with the fact that you weren’t coming back and I was trying to move on. I was trying to convince myself that I am better off without you, but in reality, I’m not. I’ve been drinking more, I’ve been smoking more, I’ve been sleeping less and thinking of you so much.”

Polly sighs and stands, leaving the room once again. You chuckle quietly at her reaction to it but that smile quickly drops when you’re left alone with Michael again.

“I don’t understand you, Michael. I don’t know what you want from me, I don’t know what you want in this relationship anymore. Tell me.” He kneels in front of you, asking for your hand in his, which you cautiously give him.

“I love you so much, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I want to be with you, I want you with me, and I want us to work. I promise to start making you feel more loved and more appreciated, I promise not to let work get in the way of us, and I promise to never make you feel like you aren’t welcome here.”

“All I ask is you treat me like a girlfriend and not just some roommate you come home to.”

“All I ask is that you marry me.” Your entire body freezes as Michael stares at you, seriousness in his eyes.

“I love you with my entire heart. And I do need to be a better lover. So what better way to prove my love than to ask you to spend the rest of our lives together?”

“Do you really want this?” You wonder. “Because if you’re just doing this to prove that you love me, there’s lesser things, more short term things you can do.” Michael then produces a box from his pants pocket, opening it to reveal a beautiful diamond ring; a ring you noticed a few months back while walking past a jewelry shop.

“I do. I want you to be my wife, I want you here with me, every single day, even when we fight. I want to be able to come home to you, reading a book or writing, and I want you to be the one to mother my children. Our children.” Tears spring to your eyes as he goes on about all the things he’s imagined while you were away.

“So?” He asks after you’ve been silent for a little.

“Yes,” you whimper out as everything hits you. A huge smile appears on Michael’s face as he takes the ring from the box and slides it onto your hand. Within seconds, you are up out of your seat and throwing yourself into his arms, now that he’s standing.

“I love you,” you cry out, pulling back to kiss him deeply.

“Still thinking about what your mum said?” He cheekily asks, though you can tell there’s a hint of seriousness in it.

“No, not one bit.”

“Are you okay with moving away from the city, maybe to a nice house in the countryside, kind of like Tommy owns?”

“Tommy owns a huge manor, we are just two people,” you joke.

“Two people just for now. And I wasn’t thinking that big. My mum and I have been looking and Tommy offered to pay for a nice house that we could stay in forever. We’ve actually found one. It’s quite big as well, but not as big as Tommy’s; we’d be able to make it work.”

“Really? I thought with you being in the business and everything, you are needed in the city?”

“Tommy’s working some things out so I won’t be needed here all the time, he can send documents to me here and there.”

“You’d be willing to leave the city too?” Michael nods and pulls you close to him, his hands wrapping around your waist.

“For you, I’d move anywhere if it means we can be happy together,” he whispers, sending a shiver down your spine.

#michael gray #michael gray imagines #michael gray imagine #michael gray x reader #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

[babyflossy]

don’t forget about me | h.rj

pairing: renjun x reader

requested: yes lmao this is for the angsty anon <3

summary: how could renjun possibly forget about you? everything in his life reminds him of you. from the moment he wakes up, to the moment he falls asleep, you’re playing on the forefront of his mind

genre/warnigns: angst, very sad, death, metions of car crash, unedited

word count: 2.4k (sad bitch hours; open)

it's cold. the november breeze is chilling and it floats down the neck of renjun's black coat. but he can’t feel the cold; not currently. nowhere in his mind is there even a sliver of concern for the goose bumps raising on his skin, or the purpling of his exposed fingertips. he pays no mind to the way his teeth start to chatter, or the way his shoulders sit stiff and sharp.

renjun doesn't notice, but the group of people behind him does. doyoung shoots taeyong a look which is returned by a shake of the elder’s head. doyoung knows he should leave renjun to himself, he needs this time to process his thoughts, but the way the younger's shoulders shake sparks concern. he felt a lot of that these days, always in respect to renjun. the way he closed in on himself, the way his eyes would search a room for something that was no longer there.

a bright shift of colour catches renjun's eye and he finds himself staring at a pinwheel, spinning delicately in the wind. the small spark of pink in the gray landscape is almost jarring. it may be a deep shade of magenta, but it looks like the dullest shade of red next to the flowers he has grasped in his hands. the wrapper crinkles every now and then as his fingers flex uncontrollably in the chill of the winter morning.

overhead, the skeleton of a tree casts spindly shadows on the frost-covered grass. the cold morning's sun casts a frozen glaze over the scene in front of him, heightening the details until everything appears crystal clear and precisely in focus. his eyes scan over the cold marble, bright white and angelic and for a sickening moment he thinks he might be drowning at the way his throat closes up. the words he was planning on saying are dying in his throat and he has to focus for a few prolonged seconds on his breathing alone.

a pair of polished black shoes crunch the grass and a hand falls onto his shoulder, wrapping around his shoulder as the perpetrator moves to stand next to him. renjun doesn't need to look to know it's kun; he can see the worried frown on his face without facing away from the sight in front of him. he doesn't need to turn around to see the identical faces on the rest of the people around him, and it makes him feel sick.

it's a sunny thursday in july and renjun sits on the beach. jeno lounges on one side of him, jaemin flicking through songs on the speaker on his other. in front of him he sees johnny chase donghyuck around, a stick covered in seaweed swaying precariously in his hands. the music jaemin chooses floats out the speaker and for a sweet, sweet second renjun is taken back to a time at a similar beach.

"renjun! stop!" the voice is accompanied by a shriek of laughter and a slew of curse words as the boy in question manages to push you into the water. he watches, a beaming smile on his face, as your head breaks through the surface, gasping when another wave hits you. a devilish smirk covers your face and renjun stops cold, knowing exactly what you're planning.

"y/n! no! i didn't mean it!" his pleas fall on deaf ears as you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling. freezing cold water surrounds you, salt stinging your eyes. the first view you have out of the water is renjun's shocked face, not at all matching the jubilant grin on your own. with a disbelieving laugh he pulls you back to him, resting his hands on the backs of your thighs when your wind your legs around his waist.

when you can tell he's about to make a smart jab at you, you take the opportunity to press your lips against his, relishing in the way he sighs into your mouth. it seems you successfully distracted him, pulling away only for his lips to chase yours.

a shriek pulls renjun back to the present. it's donghyuck, screaming out for taeil to stop johnny who now has the stick dangerously close to the younger's face. the painful sinking of his heart momentarily disarms him, letting the sombre expression shine through. jaemin sees the change in his demeanour and swallows hard, thinking of something to distract him

"hey, renjun," renjun turns his head in recognition but his eyes don't leave the waves, as if he could almost see the memory play out in front of him. "you wanna come find the arcade?" lingering only a moment longer on the flashback, renjun buries it under his expertly crafted mask, a smile toying at his lips. jaemin knows it's insincere, but he'll take anything at this point.

the theme park is teeming with people. it's the opening weekend of the carnival and it was tradition to come on the saturday. mark had spent weeks convincing him it would be good for him to come this year, just like any other. renjun knows taeyong and doyoung and quite possibly kun as well had given him that advice, and mark was a good friend to stick to it. in the end, renjun had even started believing him.

he regrets that now, as he stands in front of the stall where he had won you the first gift you had ever exchanged; an oversized stuffed panda that was nearly twice your size. that same panda rested on his bed at the dorms now.

"these are rigged, i swear," the ball you throw narrowly misses the last can, and you sigh, turning to face the smiling boy next to you. your complaints aren't acknowledged by renjun and you watch in amazement as he throws his last ball at his own set of cans, hitting it straight on and watching in glee as it clatters to the ground. the joy on his face makes a matching smile light up your own face.

"can i have the panda, please?" he asks the person behind the counter, grinning at you as he is handed a ginormous fluffy bear complete with red bow tie. upon seeing your pout, he does nothing but poke your nose, loving the way your cheeks heat up. "you're welcome." the panda is thrust into your arms and you wobble on your feet before renjun's arms come up to steady you.

the panda has wide gleaming eyes and you look from its embroidered mouth to renjun's now blushing face before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, enveloping his cold fingers in your own. renjun swears his heart burst at that exact moment.

the theme park is teeming with people but as he scans the crowd, he cannot see your face. the crushing reality that you're not here crashes down on his chest and he suddenly can't find the breath he was holding before. before he can stop himself, the tears are streaming down his face. he faces away from mark, less out of embarrassment and more out of concern for the older boy. he knows his friends had the right idea but seeing the exact place you had stood and kissed him for the first time is suffocating.

taeyong rarely cooks for everyone, but this is a special occasion. the dining table is filling slowly and renjun waits in the hallway, staring into the mirror and trying to paint on the most convincing smile. he hopes the others don't notice his absent but deep down he knows they're all waiting with bated breath for him to enter. jaehyun and yuta help taeyong carry plate after plate of delicious smelling food to the table.

it seems fantastic, and renjun hears his stomach growl loudly. the sound makes doyoung's ears perk up, the ever-concerned older brother knowing how long it had been since renjun had eaten a proper meal. the last dish is brought out and taeyong sits down last at the head of the table. a round of murmured thank you's arises from the group before people start piling food onto their plates.

renjun reaches for the hotpot but his eyes fall to the seat next to him. he had carefully avoided looking at it until now, hoping if seeing is believing he could make it disappear. the chair is empty. it's empty and suddenly so is renjun's heart. the spoon clatters to the table, the chatter at the table halting. the more he stares the plush velvet, the empty plush velvet, the sicker he feels. doyoung reaches for him but renjun stands abruptly, the chair behind him swaying on its back legs. the group watches with sad eyes as the young boy makes a beeline for the hallway, breaking out into a jog when he hears someone else get up from the table.

on the rooftop the clear night sky spans over renjun's head. he lies back and stares upwards, letting himself have this moment of grief. the stars are bright tonight, but the tears in his eyes distort them until they spike outwards in little lines. hot, fast tears fall out the sides of his eyes, sliding down his cheeks and onto the cold concrete beneath him. the hard surface makes his head ache, but he can't bring himself to care. it's nothing compared to the feeling of his heart clenching painfully. some higher being must have been listening to his prayers on the roof, as he sits for hours unbothered by anyone else. car horns from the roads below create a distant song of chaos and disorder, reminding him that life goes on. life goes on for others, even if he's frozen in time. frozen at the moment he lost you.

the ringing is unbearable. it fills his ears and makes his head spin. his eyes open, but everything is upside down. there are feet in his line of sight, and he realises he doesn't remember what just happened. however, he can guess from the glass on the ground, the bloodied shards glinting in the sunlight. after a moment his vision stops swimming and he looks around, heart stopping as his eyes meet yours, wide and scared.

renjun's hearing is still escaping him, but you can't find the strength to speak regardless. vaguely, you feel a warm hand slip into yours. in front of you renjun is still looking at you, tears cascading down his face. you're not much different, hot streams of salty tears mixing with the fresh blood, slipping into your mouth and down your throat. the taste is mild, as if you can't comprehend the bitter aroma.

pain throbs through your head, your eyelids getting heavier with every second that passes. renjun is screaming for help and you think you can hear sirens in the mix. somewhere. distantly. a surge of white-hot fear jolts you back to the current, squeezing the hand in yours as tightly as you can.

the pain has numbed, you know it's a terrible sign, but you can't bring yourself to care. the darkness around you vision increases tenfold and you get the overwhelming urge to make the boy in front of you understand your thoughts.

"renjun," the voice that speaks is foreign to your ears. renjun's full attention is on you and the fear is replaced with a warm feeling that you recognise as love. "i love you."

"no, no, y/n!" he sobs, the sound is broken and painful to hear and you can do nothing but tighten your grip on his hand. "baby, keep your eyes open."

"i've loved you since we were thirteen, renjun. i always will."

"y/n–"

"don't forget about me."

the broken voice returns as your hearing fades away. "i love you so much, baby. wait for me, okay, i could never forget you."

renjun can hear your words in his mind every day. don't forget about me. he cannot fathom how anyone could ever forget you, let alone him. when he wakes up in the morning, his hands find the cold space you left behind. the green toothbrush you used every morning next to him still sits in the cup holder in his bathroom. your favourite cereal sits in his cabinets. he could never think about anything except you.

kun pulls him further into his side, offering a type of comfort only a select few can. renjun stares at your name engraved in the marble. the words gone too soon stand out. the plans you had together flash through his head; touring europe together, visiting his family in china, even the list of movies you wanted to watch is still saved in his phone.

renjun breaks away from kun's grip to lay the flowers down in front of your gravestone, tracing your names with his fingers. as he finished engraining the way your name swirls in the stone, he thinks back to every time he's done it before.

every sunny summer day spent here, a half-eaten picnic for two between him and the cold stone; every snowy morning he sits and tries to catch snowflakes on his tongue like you always used to; every warm autumn night where he sits and watches the stars above, telling you about all the conspiracy theories he's heard, all the facts about space he knows you would have loved to hear; every lazy spring afternoon when the flowers he planted next to your grave start blooming. he can trace your name by memory now.

don't forget about me. how could he? you're the constant warmness in his chest. you're in the shadows that follow him in the sun. you're in every promise he makes to himself. every time he falls asleep, you're the last thought that crosses his mind. how could he possibly forget about you?

somewhere deep down, he knows it wrong to be waiting for the day he can join you again. you would have wanted him to live his life to the fullest, enjoying every moment and only thinking of the good memories. but renjun's biggest comfort is knowing that you're sat somewhere watching him. watching him and waiting for him to join you.

waiting for him to come home, into your arms.

a/n: a double update,,, who am i? also i may or may not have ugly cried whilst writing this

#renjun imagines #renjun angst #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #renjun x reader #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct angst #nct fluff #nct sad #nct au #nct dream au #nct dream angst #renjun sad #renjun au #mark lee #kun #taeyong #doyoung #johnny #haechan #jeno #jaemin #chenle #jisung #huang renjun #angst

[periminkle]

Orphic | 02

After moving into your own place, it seems life is finally going your way; the path to independence leading you to a quaint suburban town where even the grass seems to grow a little greener. Although a shocking encounter leads you to believe that perhaps appearances can be quite deceiving.

pairing: hybrid!jk x reader (first person)

genre: hybrid au, angst, fluff

word count: 7.0k

rating: PG-15

warnings: animal cruelty, death, blood, swearing

author’s note: I cut this chapter into two parts bc it was turning into a monster :((( i did try to research DNA and genes and all that fancy stuff but it was too much for my small brain, so beware of inaccurate facts!!! also wanted to say that my heart hurt writing this </3

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The light breeze fluttering through the back door enveloped the bare skin of my legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. 

I couldn’t recall the last time I lounged around the house in the morning—not flurrying around like a chicken with its head cut off, in a rush to catch the bus. If it wasn’t work then it was grocery shopping, borrowing articles and studies from the library or filling my car’s empty gas. 

Consequently, I refused to change out of the oversized sweater and the lousy pair of bright yellow shorts that currently adorned my laden figure. With any luck, the comfort from the soft articles of cloth would somehow seep into my mental state as well.

Yet the optimistic notion wasn’t proving its validity thus far, becoming a more of a burden due to the lack of a proper barrier between my humble abode and the wilderness outside. 

For the most part, the structure of the door was left unharmed but the handle containing the lock that had been smashed into was another matter completely. Upon further examination, accompanied by an hour of fiddling around with the busted latch, it seemed to be a problem beyond my capabilities. I reluctantly admitted defeat and ordered a replacement. 

With nothing to secure the door to the adjacent wall, it remained slightly ajar.

Another hour whizzed by, scouring through the limited resources at my disposal to—at the very least—find a temporary fix. I tried taping it shut, propping a chair, a step stool and a table up against the remainder of the handle to no avail. 

A stroke of genius hit when I stuck a command hook on the wall nearby, fastening a broken hairband from the latch to the hook. However, the placement of the hook was a little too close and the hairband a little too loose to keep the occasional draft from finding its way inside. My fluffy pokémon shorts provided meager defence at best, but I could hardly spare a thought to the lower temperature when my mind was fully occupied with more urgent matters.

After the run-in yesterday night, I remained by the fridge, shaken from the events that had transpired for longer than I’d like to admit. I was unsure if the familiar sylvan scent that lingered was a result of the stranger or simply a waft from the forest, which wasn’t unlikely, considering my defective door.

Once I’d finally gotten a hold of myself, I dialled the police, doubting that my shaky limbs could safely carry me to the nearest station at such an hour. Other than an aching wrist and some medical supplies that could be restocked, my physical well-being and that of my house were surprisingly fine. 

Excluding my poor back door, of course.

I was rather fortunate that the robbery, if stealing bandages could even be labelled as such, was more mentally taxing than anything. The drops of blood were rather annoying to clean off my tiles too, I guess.

Trying to get any rest that night was fruitless, tossing and turning, worried that the man might return for something more valuable or another fiend finding his way inside to do worse. 

It struck me as more than a little odd that he would come to my tiny cottage, of all places, for first aid supplies. If he wasn’t looking for some extra coins to pocket, why wouldn’t he go to the hospital? Where had he gotten a wound that couldn’t be treated by a doctor? Maybe he had partaken in various illegal activities that couldn’t warrant the suspicion of a governmental figure? Ugh, my brain hurt the more I thought about it.

Along with my raging thoughts, the perpetual feeling of being watched disturbed my slumber as well. It was if another set of eyes were locked on my vulnerable form, peering past the closed blinds and under the protective layers of blankets I’d piled on. No matter how many times I peeked into the darkness though, I was only met with the sight of my backyard enshrouded in the night sky. 

When the rays of dawn broke through the tenebrosity, I abandoned any notion of sleep and hesitantly called Jin, unsure if the busy man was even conscious yet. His bright and cheery voice quelled my worries and I informed him of what had transpired within the past twelve hours. Relief flooded my lethargic frame as he delved into a crazed panic, which I greatly appreciated, accepting his offer to take a day off.

Jin was excessively sympathetic and compassionate, reminding me of a mother goose with how he squabbled over staying somewhere else for the time being and taking a week-long break. But I didn’t want to be a burden on any of my new friends and going back to the city wasn’t an option at this point. Reflecting on the matter for more than day wasn’t necessary either.

I haughtily believed that the criminal didn’t deserve any more free real estate in my mind than he’d already occupied.

In order to comprehend the situation, as well as the fact that I would be utterly useless if I went to work with my mind engrossed in other matters, I thought one day to digest everything and get it out of my system would suffice. Though I knew it would come more so with time, I also had to work on regaining an impression of security within my own walls. 

To take a rest from my turbulent concerns, I made a trip to one of the populated parks within the small town, figuring that I would feel more safety in the numbers that would surround me. Ridiculously, I found myself stumped when I got there, drowning in my own vulnerability, so I promptly headed back.

At nightfall, I skipped out on meeting with the cat yet again. Evidently, I lacked the mental capability to tend to my own needs the day before, never mind another being, thus I didn’t visit the little guy. I felt a wash of regret and worry that I hadn’t even set out some food. As a result of yesterday’s blunder, I put a heaping mass of tuna on the porch this time, hoping the animal would understand my apology. 

The hours flew by as I sat there, stirring in my own solitude. In order to bring the negativity of the day to an end, I invited the trio I’d gotten close to as of recent, although Jin adamantly refused due to his papers that, “wouldn’t write themselves.”

I took the steaming pot of ramen off the stovetop right as the clear ring of the doorbell resounded throughout the cramped place. Hastily, I placed the noodles onto the table with careful hands, grimacing as I realized it took up a bit more than a quarter of the surface.

With a brisk shuffle, I pulled open my front door to the sight of a disgruntled Yoongi, hidden behind the towering stature of a rosy-nosed Namjoon. I barely made out the mutterings of, “it’s freezing out here,” and “took you long enough,” before I was being shoved aside.

As they trudged over to the kitchen, following the scent of freshly cooked ramen wafting around the house, Yoongi scoffed at my tiny table. Since I only purchased two chairs for the space, I cracked open the step stool to act as another seat. I honestly wasn’t sure what I would have done if Jin had tagged along too. Maybe pulled out the ladder too?

The shorter man grabbed the handles of the pot, heading over to the direction of the living room as Namjoon and I trailed after him like baby ducks. “If we’re going to eat like poor college students then we might as well keep up the act and sit on the floor.”

Although Yoongi’s cold and distant facade perplexed me as I was getting to know him, eventually I picked up on the hints of affection he’d drop every once in a while. Mostly, I found that I was able to burn time fooling around with Taemin as he completed enough drudgery for the both of us or a piping hot mug of hot chocolate would be waiting for me in the break room after long hours. 

Even now, though he acted irritated, I knew Yoongi well enough to decipher his true intentions: that he was trying to be considerate of my humble living conditions and opted to play it off as a joke. At this point, I was even inclined to believe he harboured a soft spot for me.

In response, I pretended to be peeved by his actions as I ambled back to gather the bowls and utensils I placed at the table, carrying them to the spot we’d occupied on the floor. It was difficult to hide the growing smile on my face.

Once I’d gotten a few drinks down my throat, I finally felt the tense muscles between my brows and shoulder blades relax, forgetting about the worries that echoed in my head all day.

The TV screen flashed with the intense scenes of an action movie that Namjoon had picked out. I was only half paying attention to the redundant plot line, more interested in the outrageous story spewing from Namjoon’s lips.

“-and now he’s bragging about how one of his puns got milk spilling out of Yoongi’s nose!”

The tipsy state I was in got me laughing harder than I should have, but with both men around me in a relatively similar state of mind, no one seemed to care.

“That’s literal bullshit, Eunmi told me that I was drinking the milk meant for Taemin right when Jin finished telling his dumb joke,” Yoongi complained despite the gummy smile stretching across his features.

I clutched my chest at the mention of one of the creatures who had stolen my heart, “aw, my pretty little Taem, I miss him so much and it’s only been one day!” 

“You’re getting too attached to him Y/N, you know that he’s not gonna stay at the lab forever,” Namjoon lightly warned. I knew he was concerned for my emotional welfare, but even the mention of Taemin being taken away got me stewing in my own misery.

“Joon, why would you say—I don’t even want to think about that!” My inebriated state obviously enjoyed to spill more information than necessary when I stated, “I need to cuddle Taemin enough for the both of them.”

“Both?” The younger man spared a questioning glance at his companion in before turning back to me, “do you have a cat?” The two of them began scoping out the area, trying to locate the nonexistent bundle of fur.

“Oh no, no, I wish I could afford a pet but I think taking care of myself is challenging enough for now.” At their probing eyes, I continued, “I was just talking about a little kitty that visits me every night in my backyard.”

Yoongi’s dark eyebrows scrunched together, a huff escaping him. “If you’re talking about a domestic cat, there’s no way it would be living out there,” he pointed to the forest outside with a tilt of his chin.

With the shake of my head, I felt myself sober up a bit as I explained, “I think it’s just one of my neighbours’ pets.”

Namjoon and Yoongi stared at each other, appearing baffled. “Well, it’s definitely not Eunhyuk, his son is allergic.”

“But you think mean old Sangmin would have a cat? We’re talking about the same guy who refused to have kids because he’s ‘not a bank’ right?”

Namjoon redirected his attention to me. “Are you sure it’s a cat? Maybe you just saw a rat or something.”

“No, it can’t be...” Their insistent refusal planted seeds of doubt that began to fester the longer I thought about it; they both lived here for longer than I had and obviously knew the area much better as well. It wasn’t like I had the best eyesight, anyway. But I remembered the piercing emerald green irises peering back at me, slit pupils honed in on my form with vibrant clarity. “It’s definitely a cat. It has to be a cat.”

A teasing snort came from Yoongi, who was leaning back on his palms with disbelief written all over his face. “You’re just seeing things, Y/N.”

I pouted at their lack of trust in me. An aggressive urge to prove them wrong began bubbling in the pit of my stomach and with a glimpse of the time from the clock above the stove, I noticed that it was well into midnight—around the hour in which I’d meet the kitty.

“Yeah, well, if you don’t believe me you can come see for yourself.”

“Is it outside?” I revelled in the satisfaction Namjoon’s widened eyes brought me and loftily smirked at him.

The plentiful amount of alcohol I’d indulged in forbade my legs from gracefully standing, wobbling like a newborn fawn instead as I fumbled over to the door, slipping the loose hair tie off and yanking the faulty mass open. Strangely, the night air was deathly silent, even the usually chirpy crickets seeming to have migrated to another yard.

“Hey, buddy. You out there?” I mumbled, scanning the bushes nearby, trying to pick up even the faintest flutter. “Bud?”

When I felt two pairs of curious eyes pierce my back, the pressure skyrocketed. I couldn’t let them believe I was spouting utter nonsense earlier, but the lack of response wasn’t proving my case very well.

After a few minutes passed with only the low whistle of the wind to keep us company, I felt a tinge of worry knot itself into my belly. “Okay, that’s enough Y/N. Let’s go back in.”

“No! It’s just scared because there’s a lot of people out now, you two go back in. I’ll call you when it’s out.” Desperately, I examined every inch of the stationary woodlands.

“We believe you, just get back in here! It’s cold and you’re not wearing a jacket, come on.” Namjoon’s long fingers wrapped around my forearm, tugging on my hesitant form.

As the dark-haired male dragged me back, I caught sight of the abundant helping of tuna I’d left on the last step of the porch yesterday. A pang resounded throughout my chest, disquiet settling into the recesses of my mind. Why didn’t the creature eat the offering, was it angry that I hadn’t shown up the last few nights? I couldn’t stop myself from imagining the worst; if it got lost somewhere, collapsed from starvation or was brutally killed by another animal.

If either one of the guys noticed the unusual pile of food, they didn’t comment on it.

Once back inside, tucked into Namjoon’s comforting shoulder and Yoongi’s warm side pressed against mine, I found myself unable to focus on anything of value. It was as if all my senses had dulled to an absolute minimum, barely processing what flashed on the bright TV screen and only picking up bits and pieces of the conversation between the two males. All I could think about was what could have possibly happened to my poor kitty. 

My eyelids began to droop, heavy from the weight of the last few days’ events. With my body molding itself into Namjoon’s sturdy torso, I welcomed the peaceful darkness.

Taemin’s entire body shook from the force of his tiny sneeze and I could have sworn that my heart ceased its endless beating right then and there, was I in heaven? 

Unaffected by my inner turmoil, the baby jaguar started bouncing around, weaving in and out of my legs as if he was participating in his own agility competition. I crouched down to his level to reach for his lithe body. The little guy always transformed into a flurry of excitement whenever I stopped by his cage, elated that he was free to play around without his constricting muzzle. 

Once I’d discovered what a sweet bean he was, I couldn’t help but comply to his wishes. It didn’t take a mind reader to see how he consistently pawed at the contraption, even clawing his face a couple times on accident. 

The reasoning behind all the safety measures wasn’t lost on me though, as I had witnessed the terror he instilled in most of the staff. About a week prior, I caught Minzi trying to lure Taemin out of his cage with some treats, but all her attempts proved unsuccessful when he didn’t even spare a glance her way.

With an annoyed sigh, she reached into the pocket within her lab coat, retrieving a syringe that I knew she had filled with telazol, a tranquilizing fluid for small animals. That prompted a reaction out of Taemin, his haunches tensing and lowering towards the ground, mouth peeling back in a snarl. The low growling sound vibrating from his small body instantly put me on edge; it was the first time I’d ever seen or heard the animal’s anger.

Before I could move a muscle, the irate woman stuck the needle into his hind leg. Taemin yowled in pain, but sunk his claws into her arm when he got the chance, only able to exact his revenge for a couple seconds before his body fell limp. Minzi detched his paw to find a stream of crimson red besmirching her white coat.

Now that I thought back to it, his growl eerily reminded me of the night of the break-in. Funnily enough, I thought the criminal had the more menacing vibration between the two—and Taemin was a jaguar for god’s sake.

What I found truly inhumane was the assistant assigned to handing Taemin his meals. The callous woman didn’t have half a mind to remove his muzzle before placing a handful of dog kibble in his cage. 

At a glance, Taemin appeared severely underweight for his size, but I could have never chalked it up to his nutrition being fed through the bars around his snout. He struggled to attain such inadequate portions that weren’t even created for his species in mind.

Nevertheless, the instant I’d seen his horrifying feeding conditions, I dismissed the careless assistant and took on the task of keeping Taemin alive, a job that I didn’t think someone could fail so terribly at.

Taemin blindly swiped the air, bringing me out of my reverie. I chuckled as I saw he was a just a couple centimetres off the sleeve of my coat and I brought my hand, palm turned upwards, to meet his paw.

His eyelids were shut closed as tightly as they had been the first day he’d arrived at the lab, a fact that Yoongi informed me of when I’d inquired about Taemin’s lack of sight. Neither him nor Namjoon knew why he refused to, or simply couldn’t, open his eyes and my chest ached thinking about the unfulfilling life he was leading.

The memory crushed the lighthearted atmosphere that had arisen from fooling around with the dark-coloured feline. I rubbed the fur covering his foreleg while stealing a glimpse of Yoongi, seemingly hard at work from his hunched form.

“Hey, Yoongs?”

“I thought I told you not to call me that.” The low murmur was slightly muffled from the microscope covering the entirety of his face.

Disregarding his previous statement, I voiced out my thoughts. “What if Taem can actually see? I mean, we could just check whether the PDE6C gene—”

A lengthy exhale interrupted my speech. “Wow, now I guess I know how Jin feels.”

“Listen, I know what you said before but—”

“Y/N, we have tons of gene sequences to analyze, we don’t have time to waste looking for a faulty PDE6C, okay?” He finally tore his gaze away from his work to peer into my pleading eyes, running his fingers through the strands marring his forehead. “You’re lucky I’m even letting you play around considering the amount of work we have to finish.”

At that, I shut my mouth and concentrated back on Taemin’s restless figure, a much better alternative to the DNA waiting to be analyzed at my desk. Since he was confined within his cage all day, I made it my goal to tire him out enough that he would be forced to rest until the next time I had the chance to abandon work, essentially getting paid to keep him amused.

I gently brought his paw to the floor and scurried away to collect his favourite toy; a fuzzy mouse I’d bought one day after discovering the building was devastatingly unequipped to entertain an extremely bored feline.

Although he whimpered at the loss of contact and the sound of my retreating footsteps, I swiftly grabbed the rodent at the bottom of the drawer, by Yoongi’s legs, and hurried back.

Another half hour passed as I tried to exhaust as much of Taemin’s boundless energy as I could, although my plan backfired when I found that my own strength was depleting just as quickly. His natural hunting instincts were definitely still intact, what with the torn up toy in the corner, held together by mere threads at this point. I made a mental note to go shopping for sturdier prey next time.

Presently, he laid on his side as a content, black loaf, purring from the belly rubs he was receiving. To tease the cub, I would pull away every once in a while only to have his long tail wrap around my wrist, tugging my limb back to action.

“Y/N.” My head turned to meet Namjoon who had wandered over from the assistant researcher’s lab where I’d last seen him. “I finished the sequence for his canines. Do you mind leaving it on Jin’s desk?”

I guiltily stood from my seated position, a sheepish grin plastered on as I gave one last pat to Taemin’s head. “Yeah, of course. Could you lock up Taem for me?”

With his affirmation, I took the papers from his grasp and gave a pat to the crown of Yoongi’s bleached head. He shifted towards me in feigned annoyance, but I was out of his reach before he could get back at me and I celebrated my victory with sticking my tongue out.

I began to make my way upstairs, but not before picking up on Joon’s exasperated remark to Taemin, “I hope you know that I could build you from scratch if I wanted to.”

Once in front of the familiar wood of Jin’s office door, I decided to knock in case he had guests. I restrained the awkward memory of walking in on the whole board of directors from resurfacing and distracted myself by rapping my knuckles with more force when there was no response from within. “Jin? It’s Y/N.” I pushed the handle down and pleasantly found it unlocked. “I’m coming in.”

I waited a couple more seconds before opening the door, meeting the chaos that was the assistant director’s office. As per usual, I winced at the mountain of papers piled upon his desk, astonished that it only seemed to grow since the last time I’d seen it. At this rate, I was just waiting for the day that I’d walk in here to see the towers reaching the ceiling. 

Striding over to Jin’s side of the desk, I laid the notes down in the dead centre, resting on top of three separate piles. Sympathy flooded my senses as my gaze roamed across the masses. How could such a hardworking individual accumulate so much work while he was working? 

Even staring at the copious amounts of print made me feel queasy, hence I hurried to get out of the nauseating area. But, as I scuttled by, my gaze caught on a file with thick, messy letters scrawled on the front.

Jaguar.

To say my curiosity was piqued whenever Taemin was involved was an understatement. After a glance back to ensure that I was able to safely snoop around until my heart’s content, I reached for the file, making sure to keep my posterior to the camera in the corner, concealing my actions.

Ultimately, I knew Taemin was brought in to make progress on their “top secret, strictly confidential experiment,” which meant that I wasn’t to touch any of his files. At least, according to the brusque Minzi I wasn’t. However, an underlying, devious part of me enjoyed rebelling against her words and I secretly rejoiced as I directly disobeyed her orders, opening the folder.

Basic information was scattered along the first page, his name, birthdate, birthplace, so on and so forth. I casually flipped through the rest, finding the documents we routinely handed off to Jin when we’d written down sequences that brought about certain genes concerning the jaguar. This was probably where Jin would store the note Namjoon had made me deliver.

Losing interest, I flipped the bulk of the papers back to the front and seamlessly slid them into the file. When I unintentionally skimmed the first page once again, my eyes caught on a baffling sentence.

Heightened sense of sight, especially keen night vision.

I wet my suddenly chapped lips in my state of bafflement, double and triple checking that the file was indeed for seemingly blind Taemin; the very same animal that was probably napping downstairs. The statistics even matched up with what little knowledge I had about the animal, sending me into a greater spiral of confusion. They must have accidentally written the observation down on the wrong paper.

Unless...? 

I shook my head, trying to dispel the outrageous thoughts swarming my mind.

Heading back down, I caught sight of Yoongi still wrapped around his microscope, jotting notes down with his other hand. My attention shifted to the unconscious feline next, muzzled and locked behind bars.

My fists clenched, fingernails engraving crescents into the palm of my hand as I resolved to finally clear out these murky waters.

An hour passed before I finally located it and then another few hours slipped by as I examined the sequence.

The PDE6C gene on chromosome ten. Perfectly intact and working exceptionally until the halfway point, around the thousandth base. Some of the letters got mixed up, binding with incorrect base pairs and bestowing Taemin with his current lack of vision. 

Of course, I was prepared to deal with the repercussions of wasting precious time, examining a sequence that did not correlate to any favourable gene. But after connecting some dots, I recognized the agent that brought about such errors.

Ethyl methanesulfonate, or EMS for short. A chemical mutagenic that induces base substitutions, mutating the DNA molecule as a result. I couldn’t imagine why they’d inject a carcinogenic compound into the mammal, but it obviously had something to do with trying to enhance his natural vision. 

Did they think the possibility of disabling him was worth the slim chance that his eyesight could improve? By the bases that were effected, I guessed that they were trying to sharpen his sight when submerged in darkness. If the guanine alkylation hadn’t spread so far, they might have succeeded in their experiment.

Nevertheless, their hypothesis was dreadfully incorrect and Taemin was blind as a result of their recklessness.

My grip on the pencil tightened in pure, white fury. In the fruitless hope that the EMS hadn’t affected his whole body, I took several samples of cells from various areas of his body. Albeit, samplings of his cheeks, ears and legs all provided the same conclusion that I’d reached earlier—deformed DNA from ill-fitting base pairs. 

All the blood drained from my face from the appalling notion of just how much EMS they must have injected into his blood stream for it to have tampered with every cell in his body. My jaw clenched as my mouth ran bone dry.

They mutilated him.

Digust washed over me, for the false claims that the lab protected their lab animals, for every ruthless employee that harboured such barbaric morals, for myself, who blindly assisted in the cruel methods of this place. My heart rate picked up at my own helplessness, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I scrambled out of the corner I had holed myself up in.

I didn’t know if it was the bruising despair or the fuming rage that had me stomping my way across the halls, headed for the director’s office. The rational part of me was aware of the fact that I couldn’t do anything, change their twisted morals or bring down that metaphorical sword of justice that I was so fixated on. But that didn’t mean I had to play along as a clueless, complaisant pawn in their gruesome experiments.

Keycard or not, I was determined to wreak havoc until I could properly screech obscenities at one of the incredibly asinine brains that ran this revolting laboratory. Storming past the Namjoon and Yoongi’s office, I picked up on a shrill cry that seemed to douse my whole body in ice water, stopping me in my tracks.

A turn to my right gave me a direct view of Minzi struggling to pull a semi-conscious Taemin out of his cage, arms which he desperately wriggled against, thrashing violently to escape her hold. Now knowing what malicious behaviour deserved such treatment from kind-hearted Taemin, I rushed at her. 

“How could you!” I roared, seeing red when she turned, glaring condescendingly.

Her calculated eyes examined my rapidly approaching, ruffled figure. “Oh, good, I needed a coffee. Could you fetch me a tranquilizer while you’re at it? I didn’t think he would wake up.”

I grit my teeth as my temper flared, resentment embedded into each of my features. Stopping a step away from her unbothered form, I seethed out, “you guys claim to look after the lab animals? Then why would you permanently damage his genes!”

“What have you been wasting time on instead of researching what we told you to?”

“Answer the question!”

She sneers. “I thought I warned you to stay out of anything that doesn’t concern you. That includes any testing subjects.”

“Testing subjects? How the hell do you think you can get away with—”

“Woah, what’s all the ruckus here?” Hyunho’s lazy form strolled in with a lax yet domineering countenance. The appearance of the other head researcher made my hair stand on end. “Do we need to put up a sign to remind some people that they’re to use indoor voices inside a laboratory?”

My eyes quickly narrowed at his patronizing remark. “I don’t know what kind of fucked up project you guys are conducting, but if you’re harming innocent animals, I don’t want any part of your imbecilic research.”

“Ooh, it seems that newbie is a feisty one, isn’t she?” He took a step towards me, the scent of a cigarette he probably smoked earlier invading my senses and invoking an appealing urge to regurgitate my dinner all over him. “Listen here girly, I don’t know what you’re trying to accuse us of here, but I’ll be sure to report your unruly behaviour to the director if you keep this shit up.”

“As if I give a flying fu—”

A hand wrapped around my mouth before I could unleash the rest of my resentful spew. “Ah, Dr. Lee.” I recognized the subtle undertone of panic in Namjoon’s deep voice as he addressed the burly man with respect that he didn’t deserve. “You see, Y/N had a pretty rough day, some family matters back home, y’know? I’m just going to take her outside to clear her head a little.”

“Yes, that would be a good idea.” Hyunho stepped back to Minzi’s side.

“If you would excuse us then...” I flailed about in Namjoon’s sturdy hold before he all but manhandled my to the back entrance. The refreshingly cool air grazing my overheated skin quelled some of my fury, although I felt its presence simmering beneath the surface. The tall man released my trembling limbs and I whipped my head over to examine Namjoon’s concerned countenance. 

Did he know?

I couldn’t bear the thought of any of the limited friends I’d made in this place willingly taking part in such horrid research. They couldn’t have known. My heavy head fell into my hands, thinking of innocent Taemin who didn’t merit the attention of these corrupt individuals, who had no one to protect him. 

If I quit my job here, would anyone care for him? Obviously his basic needs would be met, Namjoon and Yoongi would make sure of that, but were they aware of what exactly that experiment entailed? I’d only scratched the surface, but the prospect of finding out every gritty detail terrified me.

I felt an overwhelming weight crushed me, being helpless beneath it all. “Joon,” I managed to croak out, “I didn’t come here for this.”

With the low volume of my voice, I didn’t know how much he’d heard, but a tug on my wrist enveloped my body into his embrace. As he stroked my head reassuringly, I held onto his thin lab coat with clenched fists.

If it meant I could save Taemin, I would keep my mouth shut. If it meant I could act as some salvation to each animal that came into this wretched place, I would stay.

My disgust for the laboratory only multiplied.

“I didn’t come here for this.”

A pleasant tranquility took shape after a brief greeting had been exchanged, both Jin and I on a well-deserved break after too much time cooped up in our respective offices. Well, even though the assistant researchers’ office wasn’t technically mine in title, the majority of my belongings resided in that space. Namjoon didn’t mind much and Yoongi complained about everything under the sun, so I made myself comfortable there. 

The hum of electricity powering the building and the whirr of the coffee maker spurring into action intensified as I closed my eyes, resting my head against the back of the sofa. I stared up at the ceiling with a vacant expression and tried to clear my thoughts for a bit.

A ceramic mug clinked against the surface of the coffee table in front of me. “Drink.” I lifted my head to take in the reassuring crinkle in Jin’s eyes. “You look like you’ll need all the energy you can get right now.”

I scoffed at his statement, the end of my own lips flitting upwards. “Just tell me I look like shit.”

Gratefully accepting the cup of coffee, the bitter taste on my tongue already started to rejuvenate my aching muscles. Jin was aware of my deep-seated aversion to the drink, but I guess my appearance revealed too much of the chaos inside my head. “I was going to, but I had a feeling you might just break down if I did.”

Although the work itself was tedious and relatively tiring on its own, the fact that all my efforts were going to fuel that wretched project made me feel rotten to the core. The knowledge sapped my stamina at an exponential rate that I wasn’t accustomed to.

“How’s baby Yeri doing?” I placed the pungent beverage back down, stroking my chin in faux deliberation. “Or I guess I should ask how Chaeyoung is holding up instead, huh?”

Jin let out a hum of aggravation around his own glass, swallowing the liquid before slapping his unoccupied hand against his thigh. “Don’t even get me started. Chaeyoung keeps telling me to take some time off work to come help, but honestly I would take the peace and quiet of the office over Yeri’s nasty diapers any day.” He shook his head at the thought, repulsed by the dealing with another one of Yeri’s accidents.

I’d heard the story one too many times not to let a giggle slip at his misfortune.

Abruptly, an alarming shriek disturbed the placidity. As my head shot up to identify the source, the sound was muffled, then silence resumed. I scrambled to discern who the perpetrator was when my gaze met Jin’s static form. “Did you hear that?” When his weary eyes met mine, appearing confused, I clarified, “that scream.”

“Oh, they probably just dropped something. Don’t worry too much about it.” But I couldn’t find a trace of compassion in his words, especially with how gut-wrenching the shout sounded. Rather than shock, every note was filled with agony and something felt vaguely off about the whole ordeal.

The look of guilt that Jin sported stopped me from prodding. I refused to believe the stubborn man who was always drowning in papers to complete, shoving fried chicken down his throat like there was no tomorrow, who had the sweetest daughter back at home knew anything about the experiment. Not what was really happening.

That’s why the regret and shame written all over his countenance made me pause.

More shuffling, whimpers and yelps filled my limbs with apprehension, seeping deep into my bones and making me restless. Jin kept his gaze trained on the floor, unable to look me in the eye as he excused each sound with the fault of a clumsy, irresponsible researcher and other rationalizations that I wasn’t sure he, himself, believed. 

At this point, the raucous was becoming increasingly bestial and I couldn’t decipher the species that was belting out the miserable noises. I tried to grit my teeth and ignore them, distracting myself with Jin’s moronic cover-ups to keep me glued to my spot. Without a keycard, I had no access to the upstairs lab anyway, it was out of my hands for now.

When my thoughts strayed to Taemin though, I felt my heart drop to the pit of my stomach, recalling how I had been dragged away before I could stop Minzi from taking him. Suddenly, I lost the ability to think logically, fixated on Taemin’s well-being. I had to know if it was him.

Hastily, I jumped out of my seat, coffee long forgotten as I sprinted down the hall. Jin’s pounding footsteps followed after me, though I gave them no mind.

Once I reached the first floor, the sight of two unfamiliar men dressed in heavy gear greeted me. The bulkier of the two lifted the cage as if it were as light as a feather and I noticed how unusually clean it was. “No, you can’t take it upstairs!” I grabbed onto the bars, halting him in his tracks. “Where is he? Tell them to bring him back here!”

“Sorry, no can do miss,” he drawled out. “We were asked to—”

“I don’t care what you were asked to do! Tell them to bring him back!” He rolled his eyes at my accusatory tone and yanked the cage out of my grasp. As I reached out again in a frenzy, the other man blocked my path. The odds weren’t looking too great for me.

I saw Jin emerge from the staircase, following the ruckus I’d created. Relief flooded my veins as I sought his backup. “Jin, they want to take his cage.” Pursing my lips, I pointed to said object. “Could you tell them to leave it here?”

“No, Y/N. Get out of the way.” My breath hitched at Jin’s steely tone, locking onto his fatigued gaze. I tried to remind myself that he was oblivious to the horrors that they’d already inflicted upon Taemin, but the back of my eyes still burned at the betrayal I felt. “Come on, let them do their job.”

Though I refused to show how dismayed I’d become, I couldn’t bear the idea of Taemin residing upstairs, where they could inject anything without suspicion. “Please, Jin. Please. Believe me when I say that he won’t last a day up there.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, let’s go finish our coffee, hm?” I huffed out through my nostrils in frustration, wringing my fingers together as I debated whether or not to tell him the truth I discovered for myself not too long ago.

“Oh, my. What’s this? I believe I told you what would happen if you caused a commotion again, didn’t I?” Feeling defeated already, I didn’t even turn to meet Hyunho’s form as I heard him approach. “I’ll need you to get out of the way now, girly.”

“It’s Y/N.”

His fake grin put his crooked teeth on full display. “Yes, yes. Scurry along now.”

“No.” With a hardened resolve, I glared back at him. “Bring Taemin back. Let him stay on this floor.” Hesitant but desperate, I added a barely audible, “please.”

At my plea, he brightened up, utterly pleased with watching me grovel at his feet. “You should use that tone more often, newbie, it could really get you places.” The stealthy once-over of my chest didn’t go unnoticed by me and I wrapped the lab coat around me tighter. He pulled back a little, satisfied with my discomfort. "You didn’t hear? He died of natural causes, so we have to clean up this mess for the new tiger cub coming in. Don’t worry though, he’ll be staying on this floor when he gets here.”

I took a step back, skin stinging as if he’d slapped me across the face, feeling my blood run cold. Out of the corner of my eye, I noted the bewilderment reflected on Jin’s features, as well as the sudden appearance of Namjoon and Yoongi, both looking as distressed as I felt.

When my breaths came in heavier and burning droplets rolled down my cheeks, I knew the dam had broken. “Don’t feed me that bullshit... You monsters.” I felt my bottom lip quiver as my voice cracked. “Killed him.”

One of Hyunho’s thick eyebrows raised in amusement at my shattered state. “Haven’t you been taught not to mess with fire, girly?” He crossed his arms after giving a flick of dismissal to the man still carrying the cage. “You could get burned.” 

A pair of arms wrapped around my torso and dragged me away before I could wail anything out. Through the blurry mess of tears, I made out a discarded, mangled mouse toy by the corner.

tags: @aurorakingsley​ @bubbletae7​ @iamunrecognized @bangtanloverrrrr​ @walkingdeadfan25​

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook hybrid au #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagine

[someone-somewheresomehow]

Delayed Flight

After 5 months, I’ve finally posted another fic. Are y’all proud of me yet?

Characters: Roman Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Remus Sanders

Ships: Intrulogical

Content: Christmas fic bois, also Creativitwins (not ship!!)

Word Count: 3540 (exactly)

AO3

“4 hours?” Virgil groaned. “How can a flight be delayed that long?”

The flight attendant shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir. We could transfer you onto a different flight, if you want?” She offered.

 “No, it’s okay.” Virgil said. He scanned the airport lounge. “I’ll wait.”

 Spotting an empty corner, he walked over and sat down, slipping his backpack off of his shoulders and placing it beside the couch. The rest of the lounge was nearly empty - everyone else had obviously taken the transfer offer. That was fine with Virgil - it meant that it was quieter. Leaning over to his backpack, he pulled out his headphones, connecting them and putting them on. He slipped into the music, the rest of the world fading out around him, pulling out his sketchbook and starting to draw.

 Only a few minutes later, someone came rushing in, disturbing the peace with the huge racket that they were making. Virgil looked up, annoyed, and watched as the person ran over to the desk. “Am I late?” He asked the attendant. She shook her head.

 “No, the flight has been delayed for 4 hours. You’re actually early!”

 The man looked startled, before he composed himself and grinned. “Nice! I’ll find a seat, then.”

 He turned around and surveyed the room. Virgil took this opportunity to look at him properly. The man had tanned skin and light brown hair. He seemed to hold himself as if he believed that he was better than everyone else, and he looked very confident, even if he didn’t mean to.

 The man looked in Virgil’s direction, and Virgil quickly turned back to his sketchbook. But it was too late - the man had spotted him watching and started heading in his direction.

 The man sat down next to Virgil. “I’m Roman.” He said. Virgil stared at it for a moment before shaking it. He looked up at Roman and noticed that his eyes were a bright bottle green that sparkled with excitement and humour.

 “I’m Virgil.” He replied. "Uh, why are you going to New York?"

 Roman’s eyes lit up. “I’m going to Broadway! I’m gonna see Hamilton! They’ve reunited for a tour!” Virgil smiled faintly at the other man’s excitement. “Oh, I’m also visiting a couple of friends. Why are you going to New York?”

 “I’ve also got a friend that lives there. I’m visiting him for a couple of weeks.”

 “Oh, neat! Do you like Hamilton as well?”

 “It’s okay, I guess. It’s kinda overrated.”

 Roman gave a dramatic gasp, placing one hand over his chest. “Overrated?! Virgil, I can’t believe you! Hamilton is an excellent musical, with beautiful songs performed by the wonderful Lin Manuel Miranda, Leslie Odom Jr., Phillipa Soo, and everyone else in the cast!”

 He continued ranting for a few minutes, while Virgil sat in silence. When he finished, he sat, panting from the passion that had taken over him. Virgil stayed silent for a couple more seconds, before smirking. “I never said it was bad. I just said it was overrated.”

 Roman gaped at Virgil. Virgil looked at him for a moment, soaking in the satisfaction that he gained from the flabbergasted look on Roman’s face, before slipping his headphones back on and returning to his drawing.

 Roman waved one hand in front of Virgil’s face, but after Virgil responded with a glare, he moved away, taking his stuff and sitting somewhere else. And for the next few hours, Virgil sat in blissful peace.

 After the flight, Virgil arrived at the airport. He got his luggage from the baggage area and made his way to the exit.

 Outside the airport, he checked his watch. Logan had been prepared to pick him up, but because of the delay Remus, Logan’s boyfriend who Virgil had never met before, was picking him up instead. He was supposed to be here in a minute or two.

 The sky was a cloudy grey, and looked at if it might start to snow. It certainly felt cold enough. Virgil shivered, glad that he had put his coat on before coming outside.

 “Virgil!” Someone called out. Virgil turned, and saw Roman walking towards him, his own luggage in tow.

 “I’m sorry about what I said earlier.” Roman said when he reached Virgil.

 “It’s fine, man. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

 “I feel so bad, though! Can we meet up sometime so that I can make it up to you?”

 “You really don’t have to-”

 “I insist! We can go out and see the sights together, or maybe see a movie or something?”

 “Fine, sure, whatever.”

 Roman perked up. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and after a few swift taps, he handed it to Virgil. “Can you put your number in for me? That way I can call you about our plans!”

 Virgil took the phone and entered his number before handing it back to Roman. “Who are you waiting for?” He asked, changing the subject.

 “A friend of mine. His boyfriend was originally meant to be coming, but he couldn’t make it because of the delay of our flight. Annoying, am I right? Anyways, what about you?”

 “Oh, same here! I don’t know his boyfriend, though, so that will be a new experience. I think his name is Remus?”

 Roman gave a start. “Remus? Is his boyfriend called Logan?”

 “Uh, yeah?” Virgil replied, confused. Then it dawned on him. “Are you being picked up by them as well?”

 “Yeah, I am! This is awesome! We can get to know each other properly!” Roman was practically vibrating in excitement.

 Suddenly, a voice called out their names. “Roman! Virgil!”

 They both turned, to see a man running towards them. He had light brown hair, with one grey streak running through it, and had the wisps of a mustache that was just starting to grow. He was wearing a green tank top, along with a pair of black shorts, as if he were immune to the cold. He jogged towards them, one hand waving in the air.

 “Virgil,” Roman sighed. “Meet my brother, Remus, Logan’s boyfriend.”

 “It’s nice to meet you, Virgil!” Remus greeted. “Good that you two have already met! That way we can get the boring ‘making acquaintances’ stuff out of the way!”

 He turned back towards the way he had come, and gestured for them to come with him as he started heading off. “This way!” He called.

 Virgil and Roman set off after him, heading into the carpark. When they reached the car, Roman called shotgun, leaving Virgil to sit in the back. They drove to Logan and Remus’ shared apartment, the way mostly filled by Remus’ constant chatter.

 When they reached the apartment, Roman and Remus led the way while Virgil followed behind. They had started bickering over which musical was the best, Roman going for the obvious choice, which was Hamilton, while Remus went for Beetlejuice.

 Just as they got to the door, Roman turned around. “Which one do you think is better, Virgil? Beetlejuice or Hamilton?”

 “Hmm…” Virgil thought for a moment. “Personally, I think that Beetlejuice is better than Hamilton.”

 “Ha!” Remus crowed triumphantly. He opened the door and turned back to Roman. “I told you so!”

 “But!” Virgil interrupted. “Starkid musicals are better than both of them.”

 “No way!” Remus and Roman both said at the same time.

 “What are you lot yelling about? Hurry up and come inside!” A familiar voice called out from inside the apartment.

 They went inside and were greeted by Logan, who was wearing his usual black shirt and pants. The room was dimly lit, a few overhead lights having been turned on and the rest of the light coming from the soft glow of fairy lights on a Christmas tree in one corner.

 “Hey Logan!” Roman greeted.

 “Hi.” Virgil greeted Logan as well.

 “I’m glad to see that you two are acquainted. I apologise for not being able to pick you up, but the delay put me in a difficult position, as I was unfortunately busy during the time when I would have needed to get you. I also apologise for not telling either of you that the other was visiting.”

 “It’s fine, man. We’re practically best friends now!” Roman threw one arm around Virgil’s shoulders.

 “So you’re dating Remus?” Virgil asked, shrugging off Roman’s arm.

 “Yes.” Logan confirmed. Remus walked over to him and they shared a kiss. Roman and Virgil stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do until they broke apart. Logan’s face was flushed, and he had a lovesick smile on.

 “Did you wear a shirt and shorts in the freezing weather again? One of these days you’ll get sick, and when you do you better not claim that I didn’t warn you.” Logan told Remus quietly before turning back to Virgil and Roman.

 “Let me show you where you’re sleeping.” He flapped one hand aimlessly and led them away.

 The rest of the week was filled with fun - they went shopping together, saw Hamilton on Broadway (which was wonderful - Roman was talking about it for two days afterwards), and even went ice-skating together at a local ice-rink, making sure that they all bundled up to protect themselves from the cold winter’s air. Remus was an excellent ice-skater, and Logan and Virgil weren’t too bad either, but Roman was absolutely terrible, holding on to the wall most of the time. When he mustered the courage to let go, he had to cling on to one of the others to stay upright, often making both of them fall. There was lots of laughter that day, and Roman’s nose turned red from the cold (definitely not from embarrassment, Roman told them), but he restored his dignity when they bought hot chocolate to get warm and Remus tripped over, spilling it all over himself.

 On Friday, they were sitting on the couch, watching TV, just lazing around doing nothing. They had spent the day exploring whichever parts of the city they hadn’t already seen, and were happily resting.

 “Oh!” Roman suddenly cried out. “I just realized! Virgil, I need to make it up for you!”

 “Wha- oh.” Virgil said, realizing what he meant. “No, it’s really fine, Roman, we’ve spent the entire week having fun together, you don’t have to-”

 “I insist! Really!”

 “What happened?” Remus asked. “What did you do, dear brother of mine?”

 “I- in the airport, I kind of maybe accidentally took something he said wrong and went off on a rant about it?” Roman looked down guiltily.

 Virgil sighed. “The dumbass that he is went off on a rant about how I was wrong for saying Hamilton was bad when all I said was that it was overrated. Which is not the same thing.”

 “And now you have to make it up to him?” Remus looked at Roman, a huge grin on his face. Roman nodded slightly sheepishly, and Remus’ grin widened. “Well, there’s a nice cafe around the corner. You two could go there together. It’s new - I’ve been meaning to take Logan there.” Logan and Remus shared a love-filled smile.

 “Wow.” Roman looked back at Remus. “For once you’ve actually had a good idea.”

 “I- for once?!” Remus spluttered. He looked at Logan. “Can you believe what this man is saying?!”

 “Virgil, unless you have other plans, tomorrow I invite you to come to the cafe with me in order for me to make it up to you!” Roman said triumphantly before Logan could reply.

 “Um, sure, I guess.”

 “Fantastic! It’s a date!”

 The next morning Roman and Virgil set off for the cafe. They left Remus and Logan at the apartment, as they were doing… other things.

 The walk to the cafe was a short one, and was filled with talking. For a man that short, Roman sure had a lot to say.

 The bell above the door rang as they entered the cafe. The air immediately warmed up, a stark contrast to the cool Christmasy air outside. The smell of hot chocolate filled the air, and they breathed in deeply.

 The cafe was loud with chatter as Roman and Virgil approached the wooden counter. They waited in line for a minute or two before they were at the front.

 “Hi, what can I get for you today?” The employee asked cheerily, even though they were probably dead inside like most retail employees are.

 “One caramel frappuccino for me, a small black coffee for him, and one slice of apple crumble to share please!”

 They paid and went to their table to wait, chatting a bit more. Their names were called out, and they got their items, before returning to the table.

 “So, do you live in Gainesville?” Roman asked, downing half of his drink in one sip.

 “Yeah, why?”

 “I live there as well! We can meet up sometime after we go back!”

 “Neat! When are you leaving here?”

 “I’m here over Christmas, so about 2 more weeks. You?”

 “I leave tomorrow.”

 “Noo!” Roman cried dramatically, attracting the attention of a few people nearby before they quickly turned back to their own conversations. “So soon?”

 “Yep. I’m celebrating Christmas with my roommate, Patton. He’s a good guy, I don’t want him to spend Christmas alone.”

 “Oh, dang. I get it. Spending Christmas alone isn’t great.” He sighed. There was a short, awkward silence before the topic quickly changed.

 They ate the cake and drank their drinks - Roman finishing his quickly and trying to steal some of Virgil’s, with Virgil having to hide it away from him to be able to keep it for himself - before going back to the apartment. They had decorated it during the week, as the only decoration that they had arrived to was the Christmas tree. Now holly was strung up on the edges of the ceiling and fairy lights hung over doorways. Remus had tried to put up mistletoe everywhere but was stopped by a loudly protesting Virgil. Of course, he would still put it up occasionally, but it was dutifully ignored.

 Virgil knocked on the door, and was greeted by Remus.

 “You guys can’t come in yet! Go away!” He told them, grinning, before shutting the door in their faces.

 Virgil and Roman stared at the plain wood in front of them, as if that would make it magically open, but it didn’t, because doors don’t work that way.

 They exchanged glances. “What was that about?” Roman asked. Virgil shook his head - how would he know?

 The door creaked open a crack, and Remus poked his head out, this time looking disappointed. “Logan said I have to let you in. You just have to wait a moment.”

 “Sure, I guess.” Roman replied as Remus closed the door again.

 There was a short pause while quiet shuffles could be heard from behind the door. “Move it to the bedroom.” They could hear Logan whispering. Loud crumpling pursued, fading off.

 Logan opened the door and Virgil and Roman jumped slightly backwards from where they definitely weren’t listening with their ears to the door. There was an awkward pause, before Logan said, “Come on in.”

 Virgil and Roman shuffled in sheepishly, not bothering to wipe their boots on the mat before pulling them off their feet along with taking off their hats, scarves and jackets.

 “What-” Roman started before Virgil whacked him with a glove, shutting him up.

 “It’s pretty obvious, just use your head and don’t spoil it!” Virgil hissed. Roman turned bright red but didn’t say anything. They both entered the apartment and spoke no more about it.

 The next day, Virgil was standing in the living room, saying his final goodbyes to Remus and Roman before he left for the airport. They had had a wonderful time together, and would certainly be missing each other.

 Remus and Logan stood together. Logan whispered to Remus and Remus nodded before running to the bedroom and coming back, carrying something behind his back.

 “Since you can’t stay for Christmas, we bought something for you slightly earlier!”

 He pulled out a present, neatly wrapped in red with a green bow tying it all together. Virgil took it from him and held it, trying to guess what it was. It was flat, and not too thick - maybe a big book?

 “You can open it now or when you get home, we don’t mind!”

 “I’ll open it now.” Virgil smiled and unwrapped the present, revealing a sketchbook with a plain, cardboard.

 He looked at it for a moment, before flipping through the pages, admiring the plain white pages, ready for him to start drawing.

  “Do you like it?” Logan asked. “We thought you would like it, but if you don’t we can give you the receipt. It is a bit plain.”

 “No, it’s great! Thank you!” Virgil drew both Remus and Logan into a hug, and after a moment where they were overcome with surprise, they hugged back.

 After they broke apart, Roman stepped forward. “I also got you a present, but I’m not sure if you’ll like it as much.” He held out another present for Virgil, this one wrapped in white wrapping paper that had golden swirls all around it with a red bow slapped on top of it. Virgil slung off his backpack and carefully put the sketchbook inside, ready for use for whenever he mustered up the courage to ruin its perfectly white pages with his drawings, which like with every notebook will immediately make him feel bad before he goes on a drawing spree, filling it up with wonderful art.

 Virgil took the present from Roman and unwrapped it, struggling for a minute with the layer of tape that was wrapped around the entire thing before finally tearing it off, along with the wrapping paper. Virgil felt a bit guilty about doing it so crudely, but ignored the guilt and focused instead on the present. In his hands was a pack of pens - a giant packet, with every colour imaginable.

 “I- you bought this for me?” Virgil stammered, shocked.

 “Yeah.” Roman rubbed his neck awkwardly, looking slightly embarrassed. “Do you like it?”

 “Like it?” Virgil carefully put the pens on the couch, making sure that no one would sit on it before launching himself at Roman. Roman nearly fell over, and if Virgil could see his face he would have noticed how red Roman had become.

 “I love it. Thank you so much!”

 Roman stood awkwardly for a moment before embracing the hug, hugging back. They held the hug for a moment more before Virgil stepped back, picking the pens back up and holding them close to his chest for a second before placing it into his backpack, even more carefully than he had put the sketchbook inside. When he straightened back up (though he was still as gay as ever), the room was practically lit by his smile.

 “I have presents for you guys as well!” He handed each of them a package, each one badly wrapped in the same wrapping with the words Merry Christmas printed over and over on it in red and green writing. Logan, Roman and Remus took each of theirs and began opening it, Roman and Remus ripping the wrapping to pieces while Logan completed the procedure more carefully.

 Remus revealed his first - soap and deodorant. He bit into the soap, as he usually did, and was delighted to find that it was made out of chocolate!

 Roman came next - he got a packet of paints. There weren’t as many colours as the pack of pencils, but he was still super happy and excited to use them.

  Logan finished opening his last, the wrapping paper falling away to reveal the dvds of the bbc series Sherlock. Logan was practically vibrating with excitement to watch all of them.

 There were a few minutes of hugs and thank-yous before Logan stepped forward. “Though I hate to be the one to do this, I’m afraid that we have to depart now if you wish to make the flight. Have you got all of your things?” He asked Virgil.

 “I do.” Virgil replied, picking up his backpack and pulling it onto his shoulders.

 “Right, well then.” Logan started heading towards the door.

 “It was great to meet you guys!” Virgil told Remus and Roman, waving before he turned and walked towards where Logan was holding the door open, pulling his suitcase behind him.

 He exited the apartment and waved one final time before Logan closed the door and they headed down to the car.

 They drove together, chatting with each other as music played on the radio, until they reached the airport. Logan walked with Virgil as far as he could, until they had to part.

 “It was great seeing you!” Virgil said.

 “It was! I’m glad you could make it.”

 After a moment they hugged, holding on for as long as they could before letting go. Virgil waved, and started heading off.

 He went through the rest of the process and finally settled onto his seat on the plane (fortunately the flight wasn't delayed this time).

 As the plane started lifting into the air, he looked out the window, headphones placed comfortably on his head, and headed back home.

#roman sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #intrulogical #creativitwins #my writing

[wheresmynaya]

Lopez’s 8 Ch.10 | Brittana

And that's a wrap! It's been fun & I've really appreciated all the engagement this story has received, really brought me back to the good ole Brittana days. THANK YOU, THANK YOU to everyone that has commented, reviewed, kudos'd(?), sent asks, PM'd, DM'd, MADE A WHOLE AS TRAILER and FIC ART etc... It really has been a pleasure writing for you all.

Maybe I'll see you again in the near future when I finally publish my Quarterback!Britt and Cheerios!San verse? Look out for a little something called Lost in the Lights *smirky smirk, wink wink*

Also available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & below the cut!

Sugar let’s out a dramatic sigh as she stares longingly out of the front window. She’s surrounded by the others – minus Rachel, Santana and Brittany – and they’ve been doing their best to keep themselves busy.

Quinn considers it a nice break before she has to return to her boring life in the ‘burbs and has been catching up on some reading. So lame, Sugar thinks.

Emma’s busy scribbling new designs inspired by the heist in her sketchbook like non-stop and Sugar’s sure that Santana would confiscate it if she knew what the so-called designer was coming up with. Sugar’s not going to tell though, she’s no snitch bitch.

Mercedes is up to something shady for sure. Sugar thinks she has an online gambling addiction, but like…do you, boo. She considers asking if Mercedes would hook her up with an account too, because she thinks she’d probably be good at scamming people online. Afterall, she’s an ace doing it in real life! Maybe that’s her next venture?

Tina’s trying her hand at Tinder and failing miserably. Sugar’s tried to help, but Tina’s got such questionable taste in men that she loses interest.

So now, Sugar just stares longingly out of the window waiting for the day Santana finally gives them the okay that it’s safe to come out of hiding. She lets out another dramatic sigh and this time Quinn gives her a pointed look from over the top of her book. The bossy blonde really has that mom-glare thing down pact, but Sugar’s seen worse.

“I’m so bored,” Sugar grumbles and knocks her head against the window to rest there.

“It’s been two days,” Quinn points out as she turns the page.

“That’s so long,” Sugar pouts, “I hate it.”

“Me too,” Tina pipes in from the couch, “I didn’t know we’d be stuck in this musty old loft after everything.”

“Mercedes?” Sugar calls out as she turns away from the window, “Can you put on Run Joey?”

Mercedes pokes her head out from behind her laptop where she sits at the poker table and her brow is raised high, “Hell no.”

Sugar frowns, “But it’s so good.”

“It really isn’t,” Mercedes replies.

“Speaking of Run Joey, I’ve been thinking…” Tina wonders aloud, “How come Rachel gets to leave while the rest of us are stuck on house arrest?”

“Because she can’t draw attention to us by skipping out on her previous engagements,” Quinn responds, “She has to continue with her life as normal.”

“What about Santana and Brittany then?” Sugar questions.

Quinn rolls her eyes and shuts the book in her hands in favor of sitting up from where she was lounging near Tina. She can feel the other’s eyes on her, she knows they’re also curious as to why the rules don’t apply to Santana and Brittany too.

“They’re doing a lot more than you know,” Quinn replies and she makes a point to glance at everyone, “This job didn’t just end at the Gala like it did for all of you. There’s still working being done in order for us all to get paid and stay out of jail. They’ve both got a lot on their plates so be grateful all you have to do now is lay low.”

That seems to shut Sugar up for the moment.

Quinn’s quite pleased with herself for that so she rests back and reaches for her wine glass before opening up her book again.

“Besides,” She says in a calmer voice, “Being in here isn’t so bad, it’s kind of peaceful.”

Tina eyes her as she takes a sip, “You just day drink and read all day.”

“And it’s amazing when you have a kid at home and a husband who sometimes acts like a kid too,” Quinn replies before she’s lost in her book again.

“I like it too,” Emma speaks up from her work station. She smiles with a little shrug, “I’ve been so inspired by all of this and all of you. I’ve been using this time to sketch out designs. I’m thinking about using my share to open up my own place.”

Everyone nods and starts to wonder what they’ll do with their share after all of this too.

\\

A moment later, Brittany’s pulling open the heavy loft door with Santana close behind her. They’re holding hands – which is new – and talking excitedly about something until they realize that everyone but Quinn is staring at them.

Santana frowns, “What? You all look like we just walked in on you talking shit about us.”

No one speaks. Quinn she keeps her eyes on the page she’s reading but there’s a hint of a smirk there that Santana notices. The brunette narrows her eyes at the others.

“Wait, were you?” She questions and there’s a slight edge in her voice.

“No,” Tina says a little too eagerly, “We were just talking about how much we appreciate having this little break while you two are out there doing…whatever it is that you’re doing.”

Santana doesn’t know if she believes her or not, but she doesn’t really care at the moment. She’s still high on how great of a day she’s had with Brittany. She was intending to attend these auctions alone just so she can observe their hired actresses at work, but Brittany offered to keep her company and Santana figured who is she to deny her girlfriend of that? In fact, it kind of worked out in her favor because if Brittany hadn’t come then she would’ve had to eat lunch alone and there would’ve never been a quickie in the car between auctions.

Even though they were technically working, it was nice to be out and about together as an actual couple. This whole hand-holding thing is also pretty awesome too!

“Well good,” Santana responds with a smile, “As a matter of fact, I have some news that you might like.”

The others perk up and gather around Santana while Brittany takes a seat next to Quinn.

“Our merry band of lovely old ladies that we’ve hired are making great progress with selling off the pieces of the Toussaint,” Santana explains, “Sales should be finalized tonight so once everything’s deposited in Dani’s account then we’ll be golden.”

“Wait. Dani’s account?” Tina asks.

“What are we getting paid with then?” Emma asks too. The others look around at each other confused and begin to talk amongst themselves.

Santana catches Brittany’s proud little grin and matches it before turning back to the others, “You’ll get your money, don’t you worry about that. Just have a little patience.”

\\

It’s late in the morning the next day when Brittany gently wakes Santana with kisses all over her face. Santana blinks away the sleepiness with a content smile while Brittany hovers over her whispering, “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Santana mumbles back. This little cocoon of warmth that’s a combination of being wrapped up in the comforter and Brittany’s arms is the perfect place to spend all day, but she knows she can’t. At least, not today.

“What time’s your meeting?” Brittany asks as she dances her fingers along Santana’s hip.

“Two,” Santana replies with a sigh. When she glances over at the clock on her nightstand, she groans at the time there, “I should be getting ready.”

“Yeah you should,” Brittany says but she only holds her closer.

Santana nods, “A few more minutes.”

“Okay.”

So Santana cuddles further against Brittany for a few more minutes. Leaving this bed is the last thing she wants to do, but there’s a lot riding on this meeting and she knows it needs to be done. She knows there’s not much to worry about, she knows what she’s doing, but she’s still nervous about it.

“You sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Brittany asks like she’s inside Santana’s head.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay.”

A moment later Santana’s tilting her head up to kiss the hinge of Brittany’s jaw. There’s a little flinch and Santana smiles at how Brittany so easily fell back asleep, “I have to get up, Britt.”

“Yeah okay,” Brittany nods a little sleepily.

Santana smirks as she plays with Brittany’s hair, “You can stay. I just need to shower.”

“No, no. I’ll get up too,” Brittany says as she begins to stretch her tired limbs, “A hot shower sounds like a good idea.”

“Sounds like a great idea to me,” Santana agrees and plants one more kiss to her lips before she’s going to get the water started.

They’re a little sluggish as they strip down and step in to the shower. It’s a stark contrast to the chill in the air, but it helps ease them both out of their slumber.

But it’s not the temperature of the water or the freezing air of the loft that Santana focuses on. It’s how Brittany offers to wash Santana’s hair for her, how they take turns standing under the warmth of the spray to wash off, how the wet kisses pressed to bare shoulders elicit moans, how hands disappear between slick thighs, how whispers of I love you can’t help but leave their lips as if they’re the only words they can remember.

Before they became a couple, showers involved hot, dirty sex. There was a common goal of getting off and making the other person come just as hard. Knees would ache from kneeling on hard tiles and there was always that threat of someone slipping and busting their ass. It was always quick, always rough in the best possible way, and sometimes it’s still like that, but most of the time it’s not. Now it’s softer, gentler, and there’s this care…this love they share and it’s like they’ve reached a whole new level.

Don’t get them wrong, they’re still always down for some hot, dirty shower sex but they’ve also realized that with feelings it’s so much better too.

\\

Once they finish with their shower, Brittany slips into her trusty overalls and heads downstairs to see who else is up while Santana continues to get ready. Thankfully, Quinn’s made a fresh pot of coffee and together they sit at the poker table just chatting about nothing too important. Quinn reads the morning paper because she likes the nostalgia of it and hands Brittany the comic strips because she knows they’re her guilty pleasure.

“Can I see that after you?” Sugar asks when she peeks over Brittany’s shoulder to see what she’s reading.

“Totally,” Brittany smiles and reaches for her coffee cup, “Almost done.”

“Morning all,” Emma greets cheerfully as she finally steps away from her desk to top up her tea.

“Morning,” Quinn and Brittany say in unison while Sugar’s got her mouth full of donut holes.

They make a little small talk while Emma waits for her tea to steep and in that time, Tina and Mercedes wander over.

“Sup y’all,” Mercedes says with a head nod before heading to the coffee pot. She notices how much is left and looks to Tina, “You want some?”

“I think I’ll have tea today,” Tina answers politely and goes to sit with Brittany and Quinn at the poker table, “You mind if look at the real estate ads?”

Quinn quirks her brow and hands them over, “Thinking of buying yourself a place?”

Tina nods, “I love my family but I can’t stand living with them. It’s time for a little space of my own, especially if I’m still single. Mom’s the worst matchmaker of all time.”

They all laugh at that and fall into this comfortable lapse of chatting about nothing in particular again. Brittany takes the moment to appreciate this; how just a few weeks ago they were all strangers to each other strung together by a common goal and now look at them. She doesn’t know if she’d go as far as saying they’re all friends, but they do make a pretty good team.

And for a moment, Brittany feels a little sad that it’s all going to end soon. They’re going to get paid and go their separate ways and continue on with their lives. Maybe she won’t hear from them ever again – aside from Quinn – or maybe they’ll keep it in touch? Maybe someone will devise a master plan of their own and try to rope her and Santana into just like they did to them?

Who knows, but for now she just enjoys the company.

“Where’s Santana?” Emma asks before she sips at her tea.

The others look around for her too then look to Brittany for an answer.

“She’s getting dressed. She’s got a big day ahead of her,” Brittany replies. She doesn’t want to give too much away just incase this plan happens to fall through and they need to devise another one.

Quinn looks to her curiously though like she’s trying to connect the dots on her own. She probably can and that’s what’s great about their friendship. Quinn just gets it most of the time and they don’t need to do much explaining.

The others on the other hand look around at each other like they’re trying to understand Brittany’s cryptic words. Surprisingly enough though, no one asks Brittany to elaborate. Instead, they get whatever they need from the kitchen and disperse.

Brittany’s brows rise at that, “I thought I was going to be interrogated.”

Quinn just chuckles, “They know better now.”

Brittany looks impressed but doesn’t ask. She just downs the rest of her coffee before passing off the comics to Sugar then heads to the garage to keep herself occupied.

\\

Upstairs, Santana spends a little longer on making herself look presentable. Not that she has to try very hard – she always looks presentable – but today’s going to be different and maybe she needs the extra confidence boost that comes with looking smoking hot. Her hair falls over her shoulders in perfect waves, her make up is on point, her outfit hugs her curves perfectly; she’s like a damn superhero and looking this damn good was her superpower!

She gives herself one last glance in the mirror before she’s grabbing her purse and heading downstairs. It’s no surprise that everyone’s spread out in the common area and Quinn’s already got a wine glass in her hand and it’s barely half past noon. She can’t really judge her though, she’d totally do the same if she was in her shoes.

“Going somewhere fancy?” Quinn questions as Santana appears by the poker table.

She just shrugs casually, “Not really. I just needed this.”

“You look like you’re on a mission,” Quinn nods.  

“I am,” Santana smiles proudly and looks around, “Where’s – “

“Garage.”

“Of course,” Santana chuckles, “Later Fabray.”

\\

In the garage, Brittany’s crouched beside her motorbike looking over something when she hears the door close behind her. She turns to find Santana standing there and her jaw drops.

“Woah,” Brittany breathes out as she slowly rises. A little chuckle escapes her as Santana saunters over, hips swaying rhythmically, “Now this is a look.”

“I try,” Santana smirks although a warmth rushes over her.

Brittany’s eyes drag up and down Santana’s frame and it’s like she’s seeing her for the first time all over again. Her heart swells and beats hard in her chest because she loves this woman, this beautiful, beautiful woman, and crazy thing is…she loves her too.

Brittany licks her lips and sighs, “You look beautiful, baby.”

And that’s what creates a crack in Santana’s cockiness. She can be all big and bad and drop dead gorgeous, play the role of HBIC like no one else can and run a whole girl gang practically on her own…but whenever Brittany calls her baby it just does something to her. She feels like this giddy, silly love-sick girl and as much as she finds it a little embarrassing how one word can have her walls coming down, she also kind of loves it too.

“Thanks,” Santana smiles before she’s leaning in for a kiss. It feels like a sigh of relief and she does it again and again until Brittany’s mumbling against her lips.

“I really can’t get over how good you look,” Brittany says a little dreamily before she teases, “Sucks you’ll be wasting it on a meeting with someone trying to lock us all up.”

Santana throws her head back with a laugh, “Please. You’re the only one I dress up for.”

Brittany quirks a brows as Santana draws even closer until her lips are brushing the shell of Brittany’s ear.

“Wait until you see what I’ve got on underneath,” Santana whispers huskily.

It sends a shiver down Brittany’s spine and settles low between her thighs. She has to bite her lip to keep from smiling too big, but the anticipation just eats her up. She can’t wait for Santana to come back and she hasn’t even left yet.

Santana looks pretty pleased with herself as she watches Brittany’s thoughts drift and her pretty blue eyes become darkened with lust.

“Such a tease,” Brittany mumbles as she pulls herself back from drifting too far off. She wants to touch her but her hands are already a little greasy and she doesn’t want to wreck Santana’s dress – at least not until she comes back – so she twists her rag in her hands instead to keep them busy, “You positive you don’t want me to go with?”

Santana smiles fondly, “Yes Britt, I can handle him on my own.”

“I know you can. Just thought I’d go for like emotional support or something,” Brittany replies with a shrug.

“I love you,” Santana tells her, “But I got this.”

“Alright,” Brittany nods then glances over at her bike, “Need a ride then?”

“With this dress on?” Santana laughs, “Not on that thing.”

“Fair enough,” Brittany giggles and goes over to grab the keys to the Fastback before handing them over to Santana, “How about this one?”

Santana recognizes the keys and smiles, “You know me so well.”

Brittany buffs her nails on her overalls and grins coyly, “Duh.”

“Okay well, I’ll be back later,” Santana says, “Stay out of trouble.”

“I’m not making any promises,” Brittany winks as Santana walks the short distance over to the Fastback and gets in.

“Well in that case…,” Santana smirks and beckons Brittany down to her level. The blonde obliges happily and leans on the frame of the door so she can be pulled in for a kiss.

“Good luck,” Brittany mumbles against soft lips before she’s pulling away and closing the door after Santana.

Santana only parrots back the words Brittany once said to her, “Don’t need luck when you’re this good.”

\\

The meeting place decided upon is some random diner Santana and Brittany have walked by countless times. When Santana pulls open the door, the bells above jingle and alert everyone of her entrance. She sees the double-takes from the older men lining the bar and curious glances from the waitstaff. She knows that all eyes are on her, she’s the hottest bitch in the place so that’s a given, but she’s there for business and quickly glances around the place for the man she’s meant to meet.

“Miss Lopez,” Someone calls out to her and Santana turns towards the voice.

The insurance investigator smiles brightly and Santana has to fight the urge to roll her eyes as she makes her way over to him. She can already smell the hair product wafting off of him and the way he smiles at her just makes Santana want to punch him.

Blaine Anderson; just an overachieving, annoying little weasel that has somehow managed to climb ranks stupidly fast and has been breathing down the necks of her family for years. The Anderson and Lopez rivalry is a tale as old as time and here Santana is upholding that legacy.

“Good afternoon, Miss Lopez,” Blaine greets politely once Santana’s close enough and goes to shake her hand.

“Anderson,” Santana nods and slides into the booth so that she sits across from him.

“Interesting place for a meeting,” Blaine notes as he looks around, “Why not my office?”

Santana scrunches her nose, “And finally see what kind of hideous bow tie collection you probably have set up there? No way.”

Blaine’s smile falters as he presses a hand to his bowtie.

“Besides,” Santana adds as she looks down at the menu, “Apparently this place does the best tiramisu and my girlfriend loves that stuff.”

Before Blaine can ask anything further, a waitress comes over and tops up his coffee.

“You want anything, dear?” She asks Santana.

“Coffee and one of those tiramisus to go. Please.”

“Sure thing, hun,” The woman nods and she’s off. It only takes her a few minutes until she returns with a warm mug and fills it close to the top with fresh coffee.

The pleased smile returns to Blaine’s face, “Girlfriend, huh? Maybe you really are on the straight and narrow.”

Santana quirks a brow, “Not so much the straight but yeah. I’ve been keeping myself out of trouble. That’s why I’m here. Whatever it is, I didn’t do it.”

Blaine laughs and shakes his head as he pulls out a few pictures, “Oh? Then explain this.”

Santana knew this was coming. She didn’t spend all night at the Gala in the camera’s view for nothing, so she leans forward to admire the pictures of her.

“Damn, I look hot!” Santana says as she looks over each one, “Can I keep these?”

Blaine’s easy-going demeanor begins to shift into something a little more serious, “Santana please. This is very serious. Millions of dollars worth of diamonds are missing and it can’t just be a coincidence that you were there the night of its disappearance.”

“Why not?” Santana questions as she sits back and cocks her head to the side, “I love a good party as much as the next person. You’ve got the receipts. Does it look like I was up to something? Because to me, I look like I’m having the time of my life.”

“And I wonder why that is,” Blaine questions with narrowed eyes.

Santana shrugs and averts her eyes to the pictures again, “Look at me, surrounded by beautiful people with a drink in my hand just as the good Lord intended. Who wouldn’t have a good time?”

Blaine let’s out a tired sigh.

Santana can tell he’s at a crossroads and getting frustrated so she’s pretty damn pleased about that. It makes her swell with pride because she really has this thing wrapped up so tight that not even Blaine can figure it out. But she knows he’s a smart son of a bitch so she doesn’t get too cocky just yet.  

Blaine continues to stew while Santana brings the mug close to her lips. Riling him up is a lot easier than she suspected. She figured he’d have way more on her than just a couple of pictures and she’s surprised considering his merit.

“Honestly, with your track record and your family history I don’t know what to believe,” Blaine admits. He looks up at Santana – like really looks at her like he’s trying to see something beneath the surface.

Santana’s a pro though so he’s not going to find anything there. She’s not going to crack and deep down Blaine knows that.

“Well, one look at these pictures I think gets me off the hook,” Santana explains and taps at one of the pictures, “Solid alibi right there, don’t you think?”

Blaine crosses his arms and Santana feels as though she’s almost won.

“Can I go now?” She asks even though she knows she’s not yet finished with him.

“I still have questions,” Blaine replies, “And don’t you need your tiramisu?”

“You’re right,” Santana smirks and lifts her mug to her lips, “You’ve got until the waitress brings it over and then I’m out.”

“Fine,” Blaine sighs, “I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out how the hell this happened. How such a valuable necklace practically disappeared in thin air. I’ve got suspects who should be guilty but aren’t and then there’s you who had been smiling for the camera all night.”

“Sounds like you got yourself a real shit show on your hands,” Santana dismisses, “Doesn’t concern me.”

“But it does,” Blaine urges, “I know you had something to do with this but I just can’t…I can’t connect the dots.”

“Because like I said,” Santana replies, “I didn’t do it.”

Blaine laughs again before he sighs, “Listen Santana, I don’t want you.”

“Never heard that one before.”

“Let me clarify,” He says, “I don’t want you, I want the necklace. I don’t care how you get it back to me, I’ll make something up. I’m just tired of doing this.”

Santana perks up; this is going way better than she anticipated.

“I honestly don’t get paid enough so just tell me,” Blaine adds, “Where’s the necklace? That’s all I’m after. The sooner I wrap this case up the faster I can get back to my life.”

Santana smirks, “Which I’m sure is very bland and boring, just like you.”

Blaine doesn’t take her bait, “I’ll ask again. Where’s the necklace, Santana?”

“The whole thing?” Santana questions before she shrugs, “No idea, but I might no where some of it is.”

“Some of it? Some?” Blaine looks like he’s going to have a heart attack.

“Hypothetically, yes,” Santana replies, “Maybe like ten percent of it? Give or take?”

Blaine mutters to himself beneath his breath while his face goes a little red. It takes him a minute to get himself together and then he’s turning to Santana and calmly asking, “Where?”

Santana doesn’t answer with words. Instead, she slides her phone across the table. On it is a picture of Dani from the Gala and it all begins to click for Blaine.

“Right,” Blaine nods, “A classic case of revenge. An eye for an eye so to speak.”

“It’s what I do best.”

“You know this isn’t healthy, right?” Blaine says worriedly, “It’s not good for the heart to hang on to so much pain, Santana. I know a great counselor that specializes in –“

“I process shit my own way and it’s working just fine for me,” Santana brushes off as she slips her phone back in her purse,” Now, for argument’s sake…how does one get a search warrant?”

Blaine bobs his head from side to side as he thinks, “I’d need probable cause.”

“That’s what I thought,” Santana smirks. In that moment, the waitress brings over her takeaway box and Santana smiles up at her in thanks before looking back at Blaine, “This was productive.”

“I suppose,” Blaine frowns as Santana stands and throws down a couple bills on the table.

“Wait for my call,” She tells him before walking out.

\\

Back at the loft, Brittany’s trying her hardest to keep busy while she awaits Santana’s call. When her phone finally does ring, she practically lunges for it.

“Hey San!” Brittany greets eagerly, “How’d it go?”

“Perfectly. He’s got nothing on us which I was really surprised about but I’m not complaining.”

Brittany feels like a weight has been lifted, “That’s so good. Did you find out about the warrant?”

“Sure did and you were right! It’s absolutely genius, obviously.”

Brittany blushes, “He’d need probable cause?”

“Yup and that should be easy to get.”

“It should,” Brittany nods, “I’ll make the call now.”

“Great, I’m on my way back. I’ll see you soon.”

They say their goodbyes and then Brittany’s dialing another number.

“Hello, Rachel Berry speaking.”

Brittany rolls her eyes, “Hey Rachel. It’s Brittany.”

“Oh!” Rachel’s voice turns chipper, “Hello Brittany, how are you?”

“Good. I’ve got a job for you,” Brittany says, “It’s a very important task.”

“Of course, I’m ready. What do you need me to do?”

“We’re going to need a certain picture taken of an item,” Brittany begins to explain, “But this item currently resides in Dani’s jacket from the Gala. We’re going to need you to get in there and take a picture of it.”

Rachel’s quiet for a moment and Brittany begins to wonder if the call disconnected on accident.

“Hel – “

“This is amazing. Oh my God!”

Brittany bites her tongue while Rachel excitedly rambles. Really, she starts to tune out the more she talks but it’s one question that reels Brittany back in.

“You want me to seduce her?”

“I don’t really want to know how you do it,” Brittany responds, “Just get it done.”

“I’m on it. This is so exciting! My first job. I can play this so many ways, but which to choose? Maybe I can use those handcuffs I bought? I’ve been wanting to try those out on someone. They’re authentic.”

Brittany frowns with disgust. Imagining Rachel Berry seducing Dani with a pair of handcuffs is not an image she wants or needs.

“Gross,” Brittany mumbles.

“I see why you people do this! God, the thrill of it is invigorating.”

“Yeah. Okay. Well, text me the picture when you get it.”

“Of course. Should I wear a lacy – “

Brittany hangs up on her immediately.

\\

Later that night, most of the team has headed off to bed aside from Mercedes who spends hours on end on her laptop doing who knows what. Santana and Brittany wander up to Brittany’s room but neither of them are tired. They know Rachel’s out there doing whatever she can to get this picture and they can’t really settle in for bed until they receive it.

Instead, Brittany lounges on the bed with a motorcycle magazine in her lap while Santana lazily watches her turn the page. She’s got her head on Brittany’s shoulder and their legs tangle together for warmth. It’s a nice way to end the night, wrapped up in each other like this, and Santana basks in how easy it is to feel so comfortable around Brittany.

“I never thanked you for talking to Rachel,” Santana mutters like she’s lost in thought.

Brittany snickers, “That’s okay.”

Santana tilts to look up at her, “No, seriously. You came up with the search warrant idea and using Rachel…I never would’ve thought to do that.”

“Sure you would’ve,” Brittany shrugs.

“Not without you guiding me,” Santana replies and leans up to kiss the underside of Brittany’s jaw, “So thank you. Thank you for having my back.”

Brittany smiles fondly, “For you? Always.”

Santana blushes, “Have I ever told you that I love you?”

Brittany pretends to ponder, “Once before I think? But tell me again.”

Santana giggles and whispers I love you between sweet kisses.

\\

Brittany gets the text from Rachel shortly after. The picture shows a piece of the Toussaint Santana planted on Dani the night of the Gala and it’s perfectly framed alongside the necktie Dani wore.  

Rachel B. – Is this acceptable? I’ve got her handcuffed to the bed so I can take another if you need.

“Oh wow,” Santana laughs once Brittany shows her the text, “Rachel really does move quick.”

“Apparently,” Brittany nods, “And she found a use for those handcuffs she told me about after all.”

“She told you what she was going to do?” Santana scrunches her nose cutely.

“It was against my will,” Brittany sighed.  

“I’m so sorry,” Santana teases then glances back at the picture, “This is perfect though. I’m going to forward it to myself. Tell her I said thanks.”

“I’m sure she’ll be very happy that you approve,” Brittany says and gets to work typing a reply while Santana hurriedly sends off the picture to Blaine.

Santana L. – This should do it. Have fun!

Blaine texts back almost instantly and showers Santana with gratitude. All she cares about though is that she and her team are off the hook. Blaine assures her that they are.

Now, it’s only a matter of time before everything falls into place like pieces of a puzzle.

\\

Within a day she gets word that Dani has been arrested. It’s not looking good for her ex considering the amount of evidence pinned against her, but that’s what you get when you fuck over a Lopez.  

Santana hopes Dani feels everything she did when she got picked up. She hopes Dani squirms under the hot lamp in the interrogation room. She hopes Dani feels regret set into her bones for what she did to Santana. It’ll only be then that Santana finally feels like she can move on with her life, like that chapter is done and dusted.

Maybe she’s petty for setting Dani up like this, but she doesn’t care. In the end, Karma’s a bitch and so is she.

\\

“It’s official,” Brittany exclaims as soon as she finds Santana lounging on the couch with Quinn.

“What? What’s going on?” Santana sits up while Brittany dances around in front of her. The others notice the commotion and come in for a better listen.

The blonde has her phone in her hand and starts to read off some article for all to hear that explains the Toussaint debacle and how Rachel Berry’s mysterious last-minute date was the one who made off with the necklace and is now looking at a long time in jail.

“You hear that, San? She’s looking at a long sentence,” Brittany says excitedly before she’s wrapping Santana up in a tight hug. The others cheer too and exchange hugs.

It’s the best news Santana’s heard in awhile because this is it. This is the end. They did the job and Dani’s paying for it just like Santana planned and now all there’s left to do is celebrate!

\\

Similar to the day after the Gala, Santana and Brittany grab pizza and alcohol and let the team go wild. Mercedes sets up the music this time and everyone dances like crazy with a slice of pizza in one hand and their choice of drink in the other. Even Santana and Brittany let loose and the others can’t get enough of them.

“You’re so much better when you’re tipsy!” Sugar cheers as she clinks her bottle with Santana’s.

The brunette just laughs and continues to dance on Brittany until Rachel arrives with a box of champagne. Everyone flocks to her and for a moment Rachel thinks it’s because of her, but she’s quick to realize it’s only because she brought the expensive stuff. Still, she doesn’t really mind and pops a bottle to catch up to her new friends.

“You guys started without me!” Rachel looks somewhat offended but Tina just pats her back while Sugar takes the box of champagne off her hands then comes back around to give her a drink.

“Got you a whole box to yourself,” Tina says as she pushes a box of pizza into Rachel’s hands too.

“Is it ve – “

“It’s vegan,” Quinn assures her with a small smile before she clinks her glass with Rachel’s.

“You can never be too sure,” Rachel explains and shoots a weary glare in Brittany’s direction, “I’ve been poisoned before.”

Quinn just snickers into her glass.

“Wait, wait!” Santana stops before everyone gets too wasted. Mercedes stops the music and the others look at her curiously. Santana just climbs up on the coffee table with Brittany’s help, “I want to say a proper thank you.”

“Here we go,” Quinn chuckles to Brittany, “She going to turn into a weepy, hysterical drunk again?”

“She just has a lot of feelings,” Brittany giggles then slaps at Santana’s ass.

“Hey, quit it down there,” Santana swats away at Brittany’s hand.

“Speech! Speech! Speech!” Sugar starts to chant and soon the others are joining in.

“Okay, okay! Shut up, I’m going,” Santana laughs before she tries to compose herself. “I just wanted to say that you guys are fucking awesome,” Santana says with a raised bottle, “Thank you for being apart of this. Really, couldn’t have do it without you. We make a pretty awesome fucking team.”

Everyone starts to clap and cheer and Santana laughs as she steps down, bracing herself on Brittany’s shoulder.

“You’re cute,” Brittany whispers and plants a kiss on Santana’s cheek.

Santana just blushes and goes to reply but it’s drowned out by Rachel who’s still pretty sober.

“I do have one question. Really it’s an observation,” Rachel says and everyone turns to her, “I believe there’s a small discrepancy in the amount of money we’re all receiving. Something’s just not quite adding up? Not that I’m complaining, but…”

The others start to panic but Santana just smirks at Brittany.

“You want to tell them?” Santana asks and there’s this Cheshire grin spreading up to her cheeks.

Brittany shakes her head, “You do it.”

“Alright,” Santana shrugs and turns a proud smile to the others, “You thought we were only going after one necklace?”

Brittany chuckles, “You don’t know us at all.”

Now everyone’s even more confused than before, but their eyes follow Santana and Brittany as they walk away from them.

“While everyone was so focused on the Toussaint, no one even bothered to check on the other exhibit,” Santana explains simply.

Brittany moves to open the door of a fridge that had been moved off to the side of the kitchen. It’s filled to the brim with the crown jewels of eight different royal families that just so happened to be on display at the Met and the best part is…they aren’t replicas.

“Woah,” Sugar breathes out.

“All or nothing!” Brittany cheers while the others scramble to get a closer look.

“Oh my God!” Emma gasps, “They’re real?”

“Oh they’re very real,” Santana nods.

“I was wondering why we suddenly had two fridges,” Sugar mumbles, “It makes so much sense now.”

“Wait, how did you manage to do all of this?” Emma asks.

Santana glances over at Brittany and smiles proudly, “The floor’s yours, B.”

“Well like Santana said, everyone was distracted with the Toussaint missing and being on lockdown. We used that to our advantage and decided to go on a little private tour for ourselves,” Brittany explains simply, “Why go through all that trouble just for one necklace, you know?”

“Exactly,” Santana nods, “We weren’t just printing off the diamonds needed for the Toussaint either. Tina made replicas of all the jewelry on display in that particular exhibit.”

“I’ve never worked so fast in my entire life,” Tina admits quietly.

“And it’s very much appreciated,” Santana commends, “After that, it was all acrobats.”

“Yup! And that’s where I called in a favor,” Brittany adds then cups her hand around her mouth and calls out, “Yo Chang!”

Everyone turns as Mike Chang enters.

He’s looking dapper in his dress shirt and vest but his rolled up sleeves make him look just a little more casual. There’s this charming smile on his face as he strolls over to the others.

“Dibs!” Tina, Sugar and Rachel all yell out at once. They glare at one another when neither of them backs down.

“I said it first,” Tina urged.

Sugar waves her off, “No, I did!”

“Neither of you stand a chance,” Rachel turns up her nose, “I’m famous.”

“Just barely,” Sugar frowns.

“Mike here is a former Olympian,” Brittany introduces as Mike joins her side.

“Interesting. I too am award-winning,” Rachel comments.

“It’s nothing special,” Mike replies with a chuckle, “I didn’t win a medal or anything.”

“That’s okay,” Sugar and Tina say in unison with these too-sweet smiles on their faces.

Santana rolls her eyes; the three of them look absolutely ridiculous fawning over the guy but she guesses that’s what happens when you’re cooped up in a house for weeks without sex.

Santana obviously wouldn’t know about that though, she’s lucky enough to get it on the regular.

“Anyway,” Santana pulls their attention back, “He used his sick gymnast skills to help us clean the place out.”

“Being flexible has it’s perks outside of the bedroom too, right Mike?” Brittany jokes with a nudge to his arm.

“Uhhh…sure. Yeah,” Mike shrugs awkwardly.

“You’re so hot,” Tina practically drools over him.

Santana looks embarrassed for her, “Jesus. Get it together, girl.”

“You have no game,” Sugar shakes her head disapprovingly at Tina.

“What?” Tina gasps, “He is!”

“Yeah, but you don’t just blurt it out,” Sugar argues, “It’s like you’ve never talked to a hot guy before.”

“Sorry Mike,” Brittany says coolly, “They haven’t been around a guy in awhile.”

Mike smiles, “That’s cool.”

“Like I was saying,” Santana continues, “While Mike and Brittany did that, I kept an eye out incase any guard decided to take a peek. It was a tight time frame but we made it work, clearly.”

“That’s amazing,” Emma applauds.

Santana smiles proudly, “So with this little diversion, everyone’s cut is now up to about 38 million.”

“Holy shit!”

Santana chuckles at the outburst and turns to Mike, “Mike, you’ll get a good chunk from me and Britt’s share.”

“Appreciate it,” He bows his head.

Santana sinks into Brittany’s side and the blonde wraps her arm around her shoulders while they watch the others implode.

“Spend it wisely, ladies,” Santana tells them and cuts her eyes to the only guy in the room. She gives him an apologetic smile, “And Mike.”

\\

In the coming days, one by one the girls on the team return to their lives with their bank accounts a lot fuller than they arrived. There are whispers of road trips and extravagant gifts to themselves and the start of small business ventures and Santana feels kind of proud that she’s funding that in a way.

She doesn’t really care what they do with their cuts, she just hopes that they enjoy themselves.

Quinn’s the last to leave and she joins Santana and Brittany for breakfast before she goes. She’s not really sure when she’ll see them again, so she makes the most of what’s left of their time together.

They talk, they laugh, they reminisce and then they say goodbye.

Santana actually gives Quinn a hug and she’s sure Brittany’s going to tease her about it later for being an undercover softie. She doesn’t mind though, she knows Brittany happens to love that part of her even if she teases her about it sometimes.  

“Don’t be strangers,” Quinn tells them as she gets into her car, “Beth misses you both dearly.”

Santana snorts, “I bet she doesn’t even remember us.”

“She’s a sharp kid,” Quinn replies, “She’s remembers everything.”

“We’ll visit,” Brittany says and hugs Santana to her side, “We’re her god parents after all.”

“Still don’t know why you picked us,” Santana jokes, “Don’t you have any other friends besides us?”

“You think I consider you fools my friends?” Quinn teases right back.

Brittany lets out a laugh, “Let us know when you get home, okay?”

“Will do,” Quinn nods, “And you two…be good.”

Santana and Brittany exchange a look and smirk.

“We’ll try,” Santana lies and they way goodbye as Quinn backs out of the driveway.

They watch from the garage until they can no longer see Quinn’s taillights. It’s weird how quiet it is now after so many weeks of having a full house. Santana can’t tell what that feeling is under the surface but when she looks over at Brittany beaming, it eases.

“So,” Brittany hums as she turns to Santana and sets her hands on the brunette’s hips, “Got anymore grand plans in that beautiful mind of yours?”

“I’m sure I can come up with something,” Santana flirts as she melts into Brittany, “But I think I’ll take a little break for now.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Santana nods, “I’ll probably do some of the things I told my parole officer I’d do.”

“Gonna get yourself settled down with a wife and pop out a couple kids?” Brittany jokes with this sparkle in her eye.

Santana smirks, “Is that a proposal?”

“Well I do have a shit ton of diamonds now,” Brittany ponders aloud before glancing down at Santana, “You can take your pick.”

Santana lets out a laugh, “I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Brittany winks.

“In the meantime though, there is something I’ve been wanting to try…” Santana husks.

Brittany quirks a brow, “Finally giving the armpit thing some thought? You won’t regret it, babe.”

Brittany starts to unbutton her top and Santana laughs as she stops her, “That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

“Oh. Well, what’d you– “

Brittany’s words fall short as Santana walks over the short distance and slings her leg over Brittany’s bike. It’s probably the hottest thing Brittany’s ever seen and she watches in a daze as Santana run her hands over the handlebars. She has played this exact scene so many times in her dreams, but never would she have thought Santana would finally agree to it in real life.

Then again, Santana’s kind of been on a streak when it comes to doing things out of the ordinary. Just look at their relationship, they’re actually in one! Who would’ve seen that coming? Definitely not Brittany.

Santana clears her throat and it pulls Brittany’s attention back to her. There’s this sexy, sultry smile on her lips and this mischievous glint in her eye when they catch Brittany’s.

“Take me for a ride?” Santana asks but it sounds more like a demand that Brittany’s all to willing to participate in.

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Brittany smirks before rushing off to grab their helmets.

#Lopezs 8 #FINAL CHAPTER BABY #im actually crying lol #brittana #Brittana fanfiction

[georgemackayhey]

Rules For Falling In Love: #1

summary: In which George wants to get married. But... you're not dating. Why should you say yes?

a/n: Here it is I'm obsessed with this concept my dear friend thought up, so much so that I was inspired to write this multichapter fic about it all. Please let me know if I forgot to tag anyone, or if you'd like to be added to the list! And as always... feedback of any and all kinds are greatly appreciated!

w/c: 2k

Part 2 >

───※ ·❆· ※───

"Don't be a third wheel, come on now!" Dean's publicist shooed him away from where you stood next to George, counting down the seconds till the red carpet came to an end. You gave the guy a quick, twisted frown, as George's publicist pulled him further down the carpet, his hand holding on to yours, silently bringing you along.

This was just another normal Friday evening.

When the time came to flood into the award ceremony, you sighed in relief and reached for a drink from the tray of a despondent boy meant to stand right where he was for most the night.

"Don't you have any place better to be?" Dean laughed your way, thanking the waiter for the drink he swiped.

"We were going to go bowling." You shot George a look. You'd only made the plans as a joke, wondering how much shit either of you would get for ditching this stupid ceremony to go have a bit of real fun. But you'd made a promise to George long ago, to attend all these silly little Hollywood shindigs with him.

"And we will go bowling if we make it out of here alive" George declared with a nod, leading you toward the row of seats with your names on them. He hated these events almost more than you did. He insisted your presence aided to quell his anxieties these circumstances stirred up. And you couldn't tell George no, very often.

"If one of you ever did one thing without each other, I think hell would freeze over." Dean chuckled as you all settled into your seats. You looked to George again, and he looked to you and you both laughed, but Dean was probably right.

After the awards had been given out between long, sometimes painful speeches, the boy's publicists insisted they linger around the after-party for as long as they could manage. You kept your usual pace in between them, cackling over stupid old jokes and offering forced toothy grins to celebrities who asked if they could steal George away for photos and chats about the magic of acting- or whatever.

"You know, no one has even ever asked about us." You pointed out to Dean, sharing a piece of cake in the quietest corner of the party. "Showbiz people I mean. They just assumed right away. Even the times we've insisted we're only friends, they insist we're joking." You huffed a laugh.

"That's Hollywood for you, I suppose. But you've gotta admit... you and George-"

"Are just friends." You finished. Dean halted, smiling in agreeance to drop the subject, but clearly held back from stating his other points, whether they were valid or not.

After one too many sweets and drinks, George found you and informed his sister was on her way to give the two of you a lift home. You traded a few hugs with Dean, making rough plans to meet up again very soon, without all the cameras and microphones in the way.

///

"How was your date, then?" George's sister wondered as you clamored into the back of her car. George followed behind with an answer.

"It wasn't a date, it was work thinly veiled as fun."

"But you went together, which makes it a date."

"Nice try," You rose a finger, buckling in as the girl sped off toward the city streets. She'd always found sly ways to get you and George to admit there was something deeper to your connection. She'd introduce you to her friends as her brother's girlfriend. She'd address Christmas presents to the both of you, handing them out with a wink.

"I don't understand you two." She dramatically croaked now, as if your denial was her personal defeat. "You're catfishing the world!"

"We're not pretending to date." George reminded his sister, "And we're also not pretending we don't live together."

"Yeah so why aren't you dating? You do everything else together."

"We live to torment you. It's all to drive you mad" George falsely confessed.

"I wouldn't put it past you." His sibling let out a whine.

You and George shared a roll of your eyes, dulling snickers and exhausting explanations that weren't worth wading through. The midnight ride to your flat fell silent then. The night had been long, but it was a seemingly usual evening, these days.

By the time you and George shuffled up the drive, waved his sister goodnight, you were ready to forgo your usual routine and drop face-first into bed.

"I think my sister has a point," George mumbled, shutting and locking the front door.

"Hmm?" You encouraged George to go on, halfway in tune to listen, more so gearing up to head to bed after such a long evening out. George remained silent as you kicked your shoes off, and didn't speak again until he had your undivided attention.

"Let's get married," George said.

You tossed your head back in a laugh as you floated further into your shared home.

"I'm serious, y/n." George hurried along, moving to stop you from walking away, boring his sleepy eyes into yours.

"What?" You chuckled again, shaking your head, trying to keep up.

"We already live here. We've been talking about sharing a bank account. And it'll be so much easier to introduce as my wife than as 'my best friend who I live with but am not dating but go everywhere with.'"

"But that's the truth!"

"Marriage could be true! Think of how much easier life would be."

"George, how much have you had to drink?" You cackled as you pushed past him, into the kitchen for a glass of water. You clattered about the cupboards as he followed you, rambling still.

"I'm serious! We've planned out our lives together already. Future vacations, birthday parties, career deadlines, all accounted for with each other in mind. We should just get married."

"George! I will not let you lie at the altar. A wedding is for two people who want to commit every bit of their lives together for the rest of the foreseeable future."

"My plans for the weekend are always to ask you what you want to do the next. I'm your only emergency contact." George listed off these points as if they were dead giveaways.

"Okay, let's say we get married." You entertained, standing in front of George as he noshed on some deserts he'd brought home from the after-party. He raised a pretty brow, waiting for you to go on.

"Sure nothing changes at first, not really. You're already my ride to work, and I already promised to go to all those silly Hollywood parties with you. But what happens in five years when I want to move to France and you want to stay here? What happens in six months if some super hot mailman comes and sweeps me off my feet? What happens when you fall in love with some leading lady, George?"

"People get divorced all the time." He shrugged.

"That's a lot of money to blow. And for what? For a lousy label and some ugly rings?"

"So we pick out some bloody cool rings and promise to only get divorced if shit hits the fan. Neither of us can stay mad for long. Remember when I spilled wine on your great grandma's old lounge chair? I was fully prepared to be excommunicated. But you just hugged me while you cried." George chuckled, keeping his desserts close.

"Do you really wanna kiss me in front of your mother and the world and pretend that this is normal?" You tried to ask with a serious glare, but it was just too funny. You couldn't help but let out a little giggle of disbelief that this was the conversation you were having on an otherwise normal weekday evening.

"Y/n, we're practically already married."

"George I love you, but this is a stupid idea."

"I don't think it is, but I love you too. I'm taking this box of macaroons to bed, now."

"Okay goodnight you two." You laughed, pulling at the sleeves of your too-tight dress on your trek down the hall.

"Wait!" You called out, a few steps from your room. "Can you unzip this, please?" You took a few backward steps to meet where George had stalled in the hall, macaroon halfway in and out of his mouth, he balanced one hand on your shoulder and used the other to undo the zipper that hugged your spine.

"G'night!" You heard him mumble past his dessert as you gave him a wave of thanks and practically threw yourself into your nice warm bed.

///

You met George when you were kids. You grew up attending the same local festivals and schools. His acquaintance turned more familiar with each passing summer until you'd become rather inseparable. It was that fact that kept his number in your contacts when you moved to the city, and he went away to film more often.

You'd kept up lunch dates when he came back home, and celebrated holidays with his family every time they invited you to come round like they'd been doing for years. You'd even attended a few birthdays and dinner parties with his family when George was out of town, when you hadn't spoken with him in months.

You moved in with George some odd years ago, when the flat you rented threw one too many unfixable issues your way. His home was the closest to your work, and he was one of the only friends you trusted enough to reach out to for help. After occupying his guest room for a few months, George insisted you move your things into the place you'd already practically been living in.

His home was big enough, tucked away just outside of the city. It's high ceilings, warm decor and a manageable rent were easily and comfortably split between the two of you. It made sense. You'd been sharing most of your free time together for years, anyway.

You shuffled through the bright halls, past framed photos of George's family. Of you and George. There was no difference, you'd been close for so many years, your lives were complexly intertwined whether you liked it or not. Luckily, you did.

George was already in the sun-drenched kitchen when you entered, stretching into the new day.

After trading usual morning greetings you could practically hear George's silent, burning thoughts. He poured you each a cup of coffee and shot you a look you knew was meant to say much more than words could.

"Okay, what?" You asked in a warning tone, accepting the drink he placed before you at the table, before sitting in the chair at your side. You knew George had something to say, and he'd say it whether you asked him about it or not.

"My mum thinks we've been dating since Uni. You know we can't talk her out of it. If anything she'd be relieved."

Oh, he was really still hung up on this huh?

"So you wanna do this because of your mother?" You asked, watching the steam curl up from the drink between your hands.

"No. I wanna do this because being together officially would make all our being together anyway, so much easier. Bills, plans, excuses, rainy days."

You looked at George, his start blue eyes, his unkempt hair, that stupid withheld smile he got when he was focused on something. You loved him for longer than you had the patients to do the math for. You planned on loving him for a while, even when he pissed you off, you couldn't imagine struggling alongside anyone else...

"Earth to y/n."

"I'm not responding because you're starting to make sense and I don't like it." You pretended to pout. Then George went silent for a beat, his brilliant eyes searching your face.

"Do you still want to go bowling?" He pipped up as if he'd just remembered you'd said something about it a day earlier.

"Sounds fun, doesn't it?" You asked, hoping he'd join you in wasting a day having childlike fun. George bit back a grin, leaned in close to catch your eye, and said,

"If I win... we'll get married."

You wanted to curse his name through a laugh, but you very rarely could tell the man no. And you hated to admit it even to yourself, but the more you thought about it... the more you liked the idea.

"And if you win?" George mused, egging you on. But you didn't need to place bets to play.

"Let's go bowling, Mackay."

///

As you took turns knocking pins down, George brought up several valid points.

How his family adored you. How he'd drop anything to be there for you when you needed him. How you'd always talked about how scary the future seemed, but agreed it was better to face together, like always.

And you argued for a moment that maybe neither of you knew any better, how you were all each other knew since growing up.

But George pointed out that simply wasn't true. He'd traveled. Met girls, none of whom were around at all anymore. You'd dated and failed to find anyone worth keeping around. It was as if you and George were the survivors of some twisted game of life, having only managed this far because of how you relied on each other.

But you weren't on the same bowling team.

You were scoring strikes left and right a few solid points ahead in the game.

But George was close to beating you, one good turn and he'd wind up the winner.

All the while, George only stalled his passionate speeches to listen and laugh over yours. And as you considered how familiar his presence was, and the way you couldn't imagine living life any further apart, you'd made up your mind.

But every time you thought of voicing your decision, something stopped you. You bit your tongue and decided that you'd wait to see if your feelings changed soon. And after some serious thought, you could either tell George that you'd hate to let him down, but plan a movie night alongside his favorite dinner, to make up for your decline. Or you'd tell him yes, and agree to his stupidly sweet idea to get hitched. Because you couldn't tell him no.

He won the game.

But of course, George wasn't living and dying by the bet he made that coaxed you to play. And you never really agreed to it anyway. The two of you simply went on arguing on the way home, more or less about how you were on the same page, and just what to do next.

And while you made dinner together, your conversation stopped when you sucked in a big breath and spun on your heels across the room. You'd heard enough.

George raised a pale brow, sitting patiently at the table as the oven did its thing. Then he watched as you settled back to the seat across from him, placing a pad of paper and a pen down.

"If...we do this, I'm writing down rules."

George watched on, sipping tea as you scribbled away. Once you felt comfortable with the list of regulations you'd penned, you read from the marked-up note pad, one at a time.

"Okay, listen up..."

MARRIAGE RULES

one. No lying to family and friends. They get to know that this isn't conventional.

two. No lying to each other. We're only doing this to make things easier. We must remain every bit a team.

three. We must celebrate our anniversary because there's no point in not milking the chance to go on holiday.

"Now," You flipped the page to a new set of rules before George could go on smooth-talking.

DIVORCE RULES

"We can only get a divorce under dire circumstances. Which include the following..."

one. If we betray each other's morals or trust in a way that cannot be fixed or forgiven after a year's time.

two. If one of us is dying. Actively dying.

three. If one of us finds and falls in love.

"We've managed to work out all the bad shit together so far and I'm sure we can keep that up. A divorce is too much money to waste over one fight we end up resolving and remain otherwise together."

"So you'll do it?" George grinned, setting his drink to the side.

"Is this you asking me to marry you? It's very unromantic. Negative three out of ten." You laughed, George did too. But you needed to make yourself very clear.

"I'll think about it." You clarified. "You should too."

You’d tell him yes later. Because as much as it scared you... you'd already made up your mind.

───※ ·❆· ※───

taglist: @whenthe-smokeisinyoureyes @andux @imaginationandlove @velvetgoldsilver @queen-bunnyears @maria-josefin @dearevansamham @belledamsceno @nilletellsstories @haileymorelikestupid @loulouloueh​ @visionsofmelodrama

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagine #george mackay fanfic

[let-me-write-shit]

Like We Used To: 6

A/N: And I - oop. Things are about to get heateddddd. Can you guess what’s gonna happen in the next few chapters? What do you WANT to happen?

Also, what do we think about smut? Yay or nay? Will it ruin the story or make it better? Let me know before I continue.

ENJOY!

[ONE] [TWO] [THREE] [FOUR] [FIVE] ------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER SIX

The night air was crisp and the stars had started to shine as the sun had set only an hour ago. Elizabeth managed to swipe a blanket that had been randomly draped on a chair in the eat-in kitchen on the way out, wrapping it around herself. She peered up at Harry as he led her down the lawn and towards the docks feeling surprisingly confident. After their unexpected 2 AM talk, their friendship seemed to be so effortless now. As much as Elizabeth tried to avoid it at first, their relationship seemed to have grown quickly back to what it felt like when they were teenagers. 

‘This is what it must have felt like for the others,’ Heather thought. ‘If I hadn’t built up that wall, it would have been easier for us to fall back into our old ways just like it had for the rest of our friends.’ Elizabeth felt the soft squish of the grass under her bare feet turn rough when they stepped onto the dock.

“Matt didn’t seem too keen on me tonight, did he?” Harry spoke as they both sat at the end of the dock. He crossed his legs while Elizabeth rolled up the hem of her lounge pants and dipped her toes in the water.

Elizabeth sighed, looking at Harry who was gazing out at the dark water. She slipped half of her blanket around him to share and said, “Matt’s just protective. He did warn you that he had taken your place once you left.” Harry shot her a ‘watch it’ look and she laughed, “Not that anyone could ever take your place.”

There was brief silence before Harry laughed, “We really can’t even go to the bathroom alone? What if I have to take a shit?”

Elizabeth shrugged, “I’ll plug my nose and close my eyes.”

Harry laughed and cleared his throat, “So should we reveal our big secret to each other now?”

“We’ve got time. I have to think of one first.” She said before quickly realizing what he said. She nudged his arm, “You’ve got more secrets you’ve hidden from me?”

His dimples deepened and his teeth seemed to almost glow when he smiled, “I’m a man of mystery.”

“Yeah, be careful before you mysteriously get your ass whooped,” Elizabeth quipped.

An hour seemed to fly by and so far there weren’t any fights. In fact, Elizabeth didn’t think she had laughed that much in years. They filled each other in on what’s happened since they lost touch, talked about movies they enjoyed, and shared some really embarrassing stories with each other, yet they still felt at ease. This dare wasn’t so bad after all. 

By now their buzz from the alcohol had disappeared and was replaced with hunger as Elizabeth’s stomach started to grumble. “You know what sounds so good right now? Ice cream.”

“Let’s go get some,” Harry suggested.

Elizabeth groaned, “But we can’t have any other human interaction, remember?”

“Who said anything about human interaction?” Harry grinned mischievously, “I passed a 24 hour store down the street on the way here. It has a self checkout. No human interaction necessary. All we have to do is sneak inside, grab our shoes and my car keys and slip out. No one even has to know we left.”

“I like your style, Styles,” Elizabeth smiled, standing up, “Fine. But try not to let them hear you.”

The two of them jogged up the hill towards the sliding glass door, playfully pushing and shushing each other along the way. Slowly, they slid the door open and stepped in, hearing muffled voices in the direction of the parlor. 

“Okay, here’s the plan,” Elizabeth whispered, “My shoes and purse are already by the front door. There’s a greater chance of someone catching us if we both go up to your room to get your stuff. So, if you can channel your inner ninja and sneak up to your room as quickly as you can to grab your stuff, you can meet me out front. Okay? Just don’t let anyone catch you without me or we’re screwed.”

Harry nodded, chanting, “channel my inner ninja,” a few times and they both set off, silently running past the door frame of the parlor room and towards the bottom of the stairs that met the front door. Elizabeth started pulling on her shoes and Harry whispered, “Wish me luck,” before creeping up the steps.

Elizabeth bounced on her toes and crossed her arms nervously waiting for Harry to come out. It was getting colder now and she regretted not bringing that blanket along. She half contemplated sneaking around to the back of the house to grab it before she heard the door crack open.

“Jesus, I thought you got caught!” Elizabeth breathed when Harry quietly closed the door behind him. “We are not separating again until midnight. That gave me way too much anxiety.”

“You just want me all to yourself, Lizzy. Admit it,” Harry smirked, shuffling his keys and a pile of fabric around in his arms that he had stretched out and dangled in front of Elizabeth as an offering. “Here, thought you might want this.” It was his hoodie. 

“For me? Oh, thanks!”

Elizabeth slipped it over her head, grateful for the warmth it provided and taking in the subtly spicy scent that lingered from his undoubtedly expensive cologne,  following Harry to his classic, yellow, two-seater car. He opened the door for her and smiled as she slid in. It was very clean and smelled like it had been recently detailed. 

When Harry started up the car, the engine rumbled a little louder than she had expected which made her slightly nervous, but he quickly managed to shift the gears and drive. With a flick of a knob on the dash, the car filled with the sound of Pat Benatar singing ‘Shadow of the Night’.

“No way!” Elizabeth shouted and burst into song.

Harry smiled from ear to ear as he watched his old friend dancing wildly in her seat, belting very off-key to the music and he decided to join in, continuing like that for the next three songs that played until they reached the store. There weren’t many people there, but Harry pulled his hood over his head, just in case, as they bee-lined to the ice cream.

“Let’s hope you don’t get recognized,” Elizabeth said.

“Story of my life,” Harry muttered, scanning the freezer shelves, “Why are there so many?!”

“There’s not that many,” Elizabeth laughed, grabbing a personal size jar of classic chocolate and groaned, “Hurry up, Harry! I’m hungry!”

“I take my flavor choice very seriously, thank you very much!” He stuck his tongue out at her and grabbed a small tub of Magnum white chocolate vanilla.

They grabbed a box of plastic spoons on the way to the self check-out where only one other person was finishing their transaction. Harry stole Elizabeth’s ice cream out of her hands saying, “It’s on me,” and scanned it.

“What a gentleman,” Elizabeth smiled, pulling her freezing cold hands into the sleeves of the hoodie Harry lent her and looked around the store. “Uh, Harry? You need to hurry,” she urged, tapping his back. A girl, close in age, was staring over at them. Harry had looked up after inserting his credit card into the machine to see what Elizabeth was talking about, and when he did, the girl instantly recognized him and started walking towards them.

“Harry!” Elizabeth whined under her breath, “No human interaction, remember?”

“Shit!” he muttered, pressing buttons frantically. As soon as the transaction was complete he spouted, “Run!”, grabbing the bag in one hand and her wrist in the other, leaving the receipt behind.

The girl picked up her pace, but Harry and Elizabeth managed to make it to the car and hightail it out of there before she could catch up to them. They panted, trying to catch their breath before howling in laughter from the adrenaline. 

Elizabeth looked over at Harry, capturing the details of his face. His stubble was starting to grow out which somehow made the depth of his dimples even more noticeable. His lips were wet from his tongue and she could see smile lines which were prominent at the edge of his eyes and the corners of his lips making her wonder about all the things he’s been through in the past nine years to cause them. She saw the veins in his hands that gripped the steering wheel and gear shift, and the black paint that was starting to chip on his nails. 

His laughter started to settle, but when he looked over at her with his radiant smile Elizabeth twisted in her seat, realizing that it was happening. She was starting to fall for him again.

‘It’s fine,’ she thought to herself, ‘I liked him all throughout school without anything happening. I can do that again. I’ve got more restraint now.’

It took them a little longer to get back because Harry had gotten lost and they weren’t allowed to use their phones for directions, but they eventually got back on track and pulled into the driveway. Elizabeth recommended that they quarantine themselves in his room since Kate and Lewis eavesdropped on their last conversation they had in her room. Luckily the front door was still unlocked and they darted up the two flights of stairs to his room without being seen.

Harry tossed their bag of food onto his bed and they kicked off their shoes. Elizabeth looked around the room. His duffel bag was open on a chair in the corner of the room with some shirts hanging out. The bed was clearly slept in and she noticed his rings on top of the nightstand beside his bed next to a glass of water that was half full.  

“If you’re done snooping,” Harry smirked, patting the space beside him on the bed.

Elizabeth plopped on the bed next to him and sarcastically said, “Well I’m a bit disappointed that you didn’t light some candles and cover the room in rose petals for me, but you did buy me ice cream, so I guess it’ll do for now.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry laughed, “I’ll remember that for the next time I try to seduce you.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, smirked, and took a spoonful of her ice cream, “Mr. Styles, what makes you think you’ll get a second chance to seduce me?”

Harry smiled nervously at his pants, picking at a loose thread before looking up at her and saying, “I never did tell you that you looked beautiful at the wedding yesterday.”

Elizabeth’s chest fell to her stomach and she smiled sweetly at him, “Thank you, Harry.” She almost certainly started to blush.

The two talked a little bit longer, sharing spoonfuls of each other’s ice cream, enjoying more laughs together when Harry’s face suddenly turned serious.

“Uh...Lizzy?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really sorry, but I have to pee so bad!”

Elizabeth sighed with a slight giggle, “Oh, thank GOD! I’ve had to pee for the past hour!”

They both went into Harry’s bathroom and Elizabeth went first. Harry turned around as she pulled her pants down, noticing the pile of dirty clothes on the floor next to his shower.

“I bet this is the point where most of the people who get this dare start freaking out; because they don’t wanna have to pee around someone,” Elizabeth said, wiping and pulling her pants up.

“I don’t know,” Harry’s voice was muffled because he was facing the opposite direction, “I could listen to you pee all day.”

She flushed the toilet and turned on the faucet, kicking the back of Harry’s foot to signal that it was okay for him to turn around and playfully said, “You know, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“Alright, you!” Harry warned, “turn around. If you want to see my penis you’ve gotta take me on a date first.”

Elizabeth laughed and turned around joking, “Is that not what we’re doing? My ice cream adventure wasn’t date-worthy enough for you?”

“No, I want candles and rose petals,” Harry mocked her.

“Well if that’s how you feel, just be grateful it wasn’t Daisy who was picked. She wouldn’t have even given you the chance to finish your ice cream,” Elizabeth joked. She heard him finish, flush, and start the faucet so she turned around and saw his serious expression.

“I’m glad it was you,” he said to her, lathering the soap in his hands.

Elizabeth blushed and they both walked into his room silently, taking a seat back on his bed. She could tell by his demeanor that something was bothering him.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

He hesitated, looking at the wall before turning to her, “Lizzy it’s been over 2 hours now. Are we really going to carry on pretending we didn’t just say those things down there?”

“What things?”

“....Everything!” Harry vexed, “How we both, you know, fantasized about each other. About how I told you that I liked you.”

“What about it?” Elizabeth asked, unsure of where this conversation could possibly go. What did he want? To talk out their fantasies about each other? That was nine years ago. “I don’t think much can come out of this conversation. We used to have crushes on each other at some point. Like you said, we were horny teenagers. What good does this information do now?”

“It wasn’t just at one point, Lizzy!” Harry protested, “It was throughout all of high school. Through both girlfriends I had, and all three of your boyfriends I liked you. You’re saying that we both liked each other and we could have been together that whole time? Does that not piss you off?”

Harry stared so deeply into her eyes that she was certain he could read her mind. Honestly, she had been thinking the same thing all night. And it hurt. But, again, that was in the past.

“Yeah, I know. It sucks!” Elizabeth frowned, “but that was then. It was so long ago. Who knows what would have happened if we dated? You might not be where you are right now.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Harry retorted, “but maybe I still would have, and we could have been where Kate and Lewis are right now!”

“Harry!” Elizabeth chuckled, with amused , “We would not have ended up married!”

Harry looked at her, irritation glowing in his eyes. ‘This is it,’ she thought. ‘The card is doing it’s thing. Maybe it really is cursed.’

KEEP READING

#Harry Styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #one direction fan fic #one direction fanfiction

[irwinkitten]

thoughts and actions | l.h

notes: day one of the birthday fic week!! i’ve got a million things to do but here i am because hey still wanna treat you guys. this first prompt came from @dammitbands​!!  prompts: “Do you have a ride home” |  “I don’t care what anyone else thinks.” warnings: none word count: 1.6k

donate to my ko-fi here

-

Sometimes, being in love with your best friend sucked.

Luke was entirely oblivious to your feelings, but those that knew you, weren’t. And it was bad enough that when he’d been with his ex, she’d warned you off him, promising to ruin whatever career you chose. 

It’d been enough for you to back off and just be glad he was in your life. 

Ashton understood to an extent, his arm slinging around your shoulder as Luke wandered off with a girl who had come up to claim his attention, mentioning a mutual friend to start the conversation.

You felt bitter.

“C’mon. Let’s get some air.” Ashton steered you from the party to the small designated smoking area. Perhaps your limited patience was more obvious than you’d expected it to be.

“That obvious?” You queried once the cold air hit you both and the door had shut behind you. Ashton snorted.

“To anyone else? No. To someone who knows you and knows that you’re in love with Luke, yes.” You couldn’t lift your eyes to meet his, ignoring the way you felt his gaze burning the side of your face.

“Is it so difficult to fall in love with someone normal, for once in my god damn stupid life?” The words were definitely bitter as you took another sip of your drink. Ashton sighed at your words.

“Ever considered just taking the bull by the horns and asking him out?” The look you gave him made him smirk in return. “Where’s this ballsy person who told me to fuck off the first time I talked about my yoga classes?” 

“Fucking drowning.” You muttered darkly, earning a laugh from Ashton as you took another swig of your drink. Your head wasn’t spinning yet but you were determined to get to that point tonight. 

Ashton sighed.

“If you just talked to him, and actually told him your feelings, I promise you that he’d be honest and not string you along.” His words were so quiet that you nearly missed them. It took every effort to roll your eyes.

“Thank you oh wise fucking guru who seems to be determined to set me up to fail.” Despite the fact that you hadn’t raised your voice, Ashton heard the tone and shot you a dark look before rolling his eyes.

“Be that way. Come talk to me when you’ve decided to stop being a bitch.” He pushed away, heading back inside and you fought the urge to snap back in return.

“When hell freezes over, bitch.” You muttered once the door had shut behind him and you were left by yourself.

You could feel the guilt eating at you but you weren’t willing to go in and let him be right with such a simple thing. You didn’t want to have to admit that this could be solved so easily with a simple conversation, but you wanted to know if you ever had a chance with Luke.

“There’s my best friend!” You forced a grin onto your lips, ignoring the sinking feeling in your stomach at his words.

“Gotten into trouble yet handsome?” You watched as his cheeks flushed pink, and you were unsure if it was your words or the cold air that caused it. But you indulged for a moment, letting yourself believe that you’d caused the pink spots on his skin as he grinned at you.

“M’always getting into trouble, but I don’t have my partner in crime.” By this point, you were leant against the wall, drink in hand and unwilling to meet Luke’s eyes as he took the spot next to you, his shoulder nudging yours.

You found yourself struggling to reply, choosing to simply return the nudge with one of your own. The silence was both suffocating yet comforting and part of you hated the fact it was because Luke made you feel safe.

“Think I’m gonna call it quits tonight.” You finally whispered, your head leaning on his shoulder. You didn’t want to stay because you knew you’d give in and ask him.

“Do you have a ride home?”

And you could feel your resolve crumble as you shook your head no. 

“C’mon I’m the designated driver tonight.”

“Who for?” You knew that Ashton wasn’t drinking tonight and you realised that maybe Luke was looking to take someone back to his. “Actually don’t worry. I don’t wanna disturb your night, I’ll just call a cab or something it’s-” Your words were cut off by his hand covering your lips, a glare forming on your features almost immediately.

“I’m your designated driver tonight. It won’t disturb my night and we both know I prefer your company over a lot of people’s.” Your eyes dropped from his, unable to meet his gaze as he pulled his hand away.

“Sorry.” You finally muttered and he snorted.

“C’mon. Let’s go.” You drained the last of your drink, following after Luke. You hadn’t noticed how cold you were until you were back in the warmth. Ashton was first to catch you both. He raised an eyebrow at you before glancing to Luke. 

You shook your head.

“You both calling it quits then?” Luke nearly jumped at Ashton’s voice, and you grinned.

“Gonna take this one home then call it quits. You still up for brunch tomorrow?” Luke posed his question as he pulled Ashton in for a gentle hug.

“Absolutely. You coming to brunch as well?” Ashton asked as he turned to you expectantly. You allowed him to draw you into a hug and you sighed.

“Sorry.” You finally whispered and he squeezed you that little bit tighter in acknowledgment before you pulled away and nodded. “Sure, I’ll crash your brunch tomorrow.” His grin reassured you that he wasn’t mad and you allowed Luke to pull you away from the party, heading to his car.

The drive was quiet, with you humming along to the music, occasionally nodding off which made Luke chuckle and cause your head to shoot back up.

By the time you were home, you were falling asleep in the car, the warmth interior coaxing you closer to the land of sleep, and even Luke’s coaxing wasn’t enough to bring you out completely. So he walked you to your door, his body supporting yours as you stumbled through and hesitated.

“You okay?” His soft question was met with a fierce hug from you, your face pressed against his chest as you fought off the urge to fall asleep once more.

“Love you Lu. See you in the morning.” He smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, heading back out and shutting the door firmly behind him.

The following morning, you woke up to a text from Luke, groaning into the pillow as you remembered your promise.

‘On my way to pick you up, Ash is meeting us there.’ 

It took you an easy five minutes to keep it casual, making sure to take some pain relief and slide the sunglasses on as Luke knocked on your door.

“You ready for some food?” His question had you shrugging.

“I woke up less than fifteen minutes ago. Move it so that I can get food and crawl back into bed.” He laughed as you stepped out and locked up the house, heading over to his car and sliding into the passenger seat.

“Did you get back to the party okay?” He knew the underlying concern in your voice wasn’t just about getting to the party. It was also about getting home again. He smiled as the car pulled away from the roadside.

“Yeah. Did a couple of trips last night. Ash was the last one and I stayed at his since by that point I was exhausted and he didn’t want me to drive home tired.” You felt a sliver of relief in your system.

“At least someone makes sure you’re not testing the patience of your guardian angel.” You muttered quietly and he laughed.

The rest of the ride was filled with the two of you singing along to his playlist before he pulled up, the two of you heading to the small cafe where you could see Ashton lounging outside.

He greeted you with a warm hug before Luke took the spot next to you rather than Ashton and you could feel your confusion as his arm rested across the back of your chair. But you tried not to question it as the three of you talked about non-consequential things whilst ordering brunch.

It was only after you’d eaten did Ashton ask the question you’d dreaded being brought up.

“So when are you two going to start dating? I’m bored of seeing you both unhappy.” You were almost certain that if looks could kill, the one you were giving Ashton would have had him six feet under by now.

“I realised I was too focused on what everyone else says or thinks. And honestly? I don’t care what anyone else thinks.” Luke finally murmured and you swore your heart stopped.

“Lu?” You turned to him and he wore the small crooked smile that had your heart skipping a beat for a second.

“What I’m trying to say is, would you let this fool of a man take you out on a date and make-up for the lost time that we both spent pining over each other, unless I read the signs wrong?” At this you let your eyes drop to your lap, earning a soft chuckle from Luke.

“Ashton has been plotting to get us together for a while. But I can assure you that your feelings are returned, love.”

-

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