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daughterofcain-67 · 1 year ago

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𝒮𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒮𝑒𝒸𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓈

(Beau Arlen x Female Reader)

𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝: Oh okay. Dean Winchester and Beau Arlen for all of them. Secret Santa and you’d look cute as an elf for both. Sitting by a fire. Both. Yes to alllll (@hobby27)

Thank you so much for your request and I hope that you enjoy this Beau Arlen story. Sorry it took so long to publish. I thought the Secret Santa idea would be cute for Beau! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I hope you have had a Merry Christmas this year and I hope you have the best start to the New Year! 🎄❤️

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’ve moved to Montana a month ago and you’re loving your new environment especially since you are closer to your aunt. Little do you realize that a Secret Santa gift would be more than what you expected.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: nothing that I can think of. Just Beau being a sweetheart.

You were one of the new deputies at the Sheriff’s Department since Jenny had decided to return to her Private Investigation career with Cassie.

You were the newest deputy in the Helena department and you had transferred to Montana from Minnesota. You didn’t know much about this department, but so far most of everyone seemed friendly. You knew that Sheriff Beau Arlen started off as a temporary sheriff before the former sheriff retired. You had heard he thought about retiring anyway before the temp sheriff came around.

You were glad you were here and you are able to see your aunt, Denise whenever you want! You hadn’t seen her in three years and when you found out the department was in the same town your aunt lived, you were so excited! And you were able to stay with her for the first couple of weeks before you found a cute little house to rent for the time being.

It made you so relieved when you found out you were getting a transfer… It was like a new start for you!

The end of December will mark a month of you being here in Montana as a deputy. Poppernack was one of the first ones that made you feel at home in the department. He was the one that showed you around the department and he even introduced you to your new boss.

Beau Arlen.

Now Beau Arlen wasn’t like any other sheriff you have had to work under, or any other superior. He seemed more relaxed and laid back, but he still enforced the ruled and everything. Some of your previous superiors were a bunch of hard asses and you didn’t enjoy being there at all. The environment here was different and you definitely felt more at ease here.

What kind of surprised you was the fact that Sheriff Arlen told everyone in the department that they would be participating in Secret Santa.

The person you were buying for was Deputy Poppernack. You knew what you would be getting him since you had gotten to know him a little bit over the month that you’ve been here. You had a week to get the gift you wanted to get for him and you were sure you had some kind of wrapping paper at the house since you had gotten some gifts for your aunt. So you weren’t worried about who you were getting a gift for.

Although you had no idea who was giving you a gift, of course that was the nature of the game. You supposed you wouldn’t find out until the 23rd of this month. Everyone was supposed to be “on call” on the 24th and 25th for Christmas, after all you couldn’t necessarily take holidays off if something were to happen - but the 23rd is when everyone would definitely be at the station to do the exchange or leave their gifts.

For right now, though, you were sitting at your desk while looking at a picture of your mom and aunt when they were younger. Your mom was a cop for several years and even made detective before she went ahead and retired. You missed your mother a lot.

“L/N! Peanutbrittle! Hostage situation! Let’s move!” Sheriff Arlen’s voice boomed like thunder, distracting you from your thoughts.

You grabbed your shield and your gun before you rushed out of the door with Beau and Poppernack.

You didn’t know how he got an alert of the situation but of course it didn’t exactly matter at the moment as the three of you took your different vehicles and drove to the site. Evidently it was some comic book store where a man was pointing a gun at a woman who was guarding a little boy who couldn’t be older than nine behind her back.

“What the hell is going on?” You asked Poppernack and he leaned in so he could tell you while Beau was trying to talk to the man with the gun.

“Divorced couple, the mom got custody of the boy and she’s the owner of the bookstore. Dad was a gambler, no hard criminal or anything like that but he was crushed when he was told he couldn’t be near his son.” The other deputy explained.

It crushed you when parents forbade their children to see another parent. Especially when Christmas was just around the corner. The 25th was only in a week.

You hesitantly walked over to the woman, wondering if she would even bother listening to what it was you had to say.

“Ma’am?”

“I’m not handing my son to that man. He wasted everything on gambling. You don’t know half of what he’s done on top of that.” The woman began to tell you and you bit down on the inside of your cheek as you tried to think of what to say.

“You’re right. I don’t know what he’s done or how your family broke apart.” You started to speak. “We’ll be taking him in I’m sure, but this is your son’s father. It’s Christmas time, wouldn’t you think that he could at least get a hug from his son before the sheriff and I take him in?”

The woman looked at you and lifted a brow, as if you were crazy for suggesting it before she looked down at her

“Can I, Mom? Can I see him one last time?”

You could see the woman’s gaze soften at the sender it’s of his plea and she took a look at her ex husband, “If I let him near you, you have to do whatever the cops tell you.”

“Alright…” The man said, knowing there was no other way out of the situation while he handed Poppernack the weapon he brought along.

The woman let her son go and hug his father. After that the situation had died down before Beau cuffed the man and took him to the station. You were glad that it was something simple that day and all that had to be done was some paperwork for the incident but that was about it.

You watched as Beau lead the man to the holding cell and wondered if the guy had some kind of restraining order against him that needed to be renewed by the ex wife. It was a possibility.

You sat back down at your desk before Poppernack sat down in front of you.

“That wasn’t a bad move, Y/N. At least it made That guy more cooperative to come after he saw his son.” He told you and you shrugged a little.

“Yeah, if only all cases were that simplistic and easy to go through.” You let out a sigh as you scraped the back of your head before you opened up the drawer that had some of the files you were working on for other cases.

“Hey, uh… Just out of curiosity, what’s a favorite color of yours?” You heard your fellow deputy ask, causing you to life a brow.

“An odd question… I thought you had a different officer to get a gift for.” You replied and your friend grinned and nodded.

“I do, But I like getting other colleagues little gifts too, to show my appreciation.” He said. It warmed your heart how kind the fellow deputy was. He was such a sweetheart, even if he as a little bit of a kiss-ass when it came to Beau.

“Well I suppose in that case, my favorite color is F/C.” You finally answered with a grin, “But you know you really don’t need to get me anything. I’ve not been here that long and you’ve got other officers to buy for and that’s not even counting your family.”

“Oh don’t worry about it. It’s no trouble at all. I like doing this kind of stuff.” He insisted and you were starting to find it hard to refuse.

“What sort of thing are you thinking about getting the sheriff?”

“Well he’s a Texas guy so I thought about getting him a Dallas Cowboy trinket of some sort. Or maybe some kind of football or something.” He said, causing you to chuckle a little at the stereotype.

“Surely you can come up with something more than that.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right. Maybe I’ll get him some kind of coffee mug he can keep here at the office. Maybe a new hat or something.” He said and you smiled.

“Hey, Y/N! Not a bad idea to get to the mom like that. You definitely made things a lot easier.” You heard Beau’s voice, causing you to look over and you saw him walking over with one of those styrofoam cups of coffee in his hand. Maybe the mug thing wasn’t a bad idea, and Poppernack could use one too.

“I wouldn’t say I made it easier. I’m just glad that the woman was willing to listen to her son, and that her son actually spoke up and wanted to see his dad again. Maybe it’s one of those Christmas things that made her decide to let him get a hug from his son one last time.”

“Either way, I’m glad you did that. You opened the door for that to happen.” Beau said and you could feel his hand on your shoulder, causing you to smile.

“Hey, what would you guys think if we had a Christmas party next year and we got ourselves a Santa?” Beau asked.

“I think it would be just a touch over the top.” You admitted with a friendly chuckle.

“Besides, some of these officers have families too and they’d probably be tired after long days of work and what not.”

“But what if the kiddos got some pictures with the Santa? The malls seem to charge for that kind of thing and we can just do it here for free and we could even have some volunteers to be elves.” Poppernack said.

“See now that’s the spirit!” Beau smiled broadly and you grinned and rolled your eyes.

“Yeah and who do you suggest to be volunteers for the Santa skit and be his elves?” You asked.

“Well you’d make a cute little elf, and I know Denise would be all over it to help spread some Christmas cheer.” Beau replied and you shook your head playfully.

“Why don’t we get through this year first before we start making plans for next year.” You suggested.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. But the more ideas that we have now, the better prepares we’ll be for next year.” The sheriff said and then he turned to Poppernack. You could tell that the subject would change based on his facial expression.

“Popsickle, can I talk to you for a sec?” You could hear the sheriff asked and you lifted a brow, wondering if something was wrong.

“Yeah, of course, Boss.” And with that you saw the two disappear into Beau’s office, leaving you rather bewildered.

The 23rd finally came around and naturally you were prepared to give Poppernack his gift. It was sitting at his desk with a typed out message saying to him from his Secret Santa since you didn’t want to risk him recognizing your handwriting.

You ended up getting him a new tumbler for his coffee since his was a little beat up from who knows how many years of using it and it said ‘World’s Best Deputy’ on it, and you even found a way to get a shield on it with his name on it. You really hoped he would like it, and you remembered he had mentioned it before but Poppernack, you could tell, wasn’t the sort of guy to buy stuff for himself unless he absolutely needed to.

Actually, he probably thought he could have used that tumbler for another year or two and you wouldn’t let that slide.

Things were calm today, which was a little surprising because you thought there would be accidents on the road you had to report, maybe some robberies, but so far you were enjoying the calm before whatever storm would happen even if you were hoping that storm would never come.

Anyways, you decided to get up and make yourself a cup of coffee. So with that being said you went to the break room and grabbed yourself one of those little cups. You filled it with some coffee and put as much cream or sugar as you wanted to. Then you started thinking about different things.

This would be your first Christmas with your aunt and you were so excited. But you would miss the times with your mother because she passed this year. The fact that Christmas was in two days was a little daunting since you know this would be your first Christmas without her. But you knew your aunt would do everything she could to keep spirits up.

When you turned around and saw Beau coming in, you had to admit that you jumped since he was so quiet.

“I could live without the sneaking around, Sheriff.” You chuckled and you saw the way Beau smiled. Somehow it seemed to brighten most peoples’ day. It did for you anyways.

“I don’t mean to sneak around or anything like that.” Beau admitted as he chuckled as well, but you could tell there was something else on his mind.

“Is everything okay, Arlen?” You asked, brow raised.

“Yeah. Actually, I was just wondering if you had any plans for tonight? I’m gonna be having a fire in the fire-pit back at my place and I can’t eat a bag of marshmallows by myself with smores.” He said, making you grin. It was sweet that he would offer.

“Sure. I’d love to swing by. It’s a date.” You joked and you walked past him to get back to your desk.

When you returned, you saw that your Secret Santa had dropped off his gift to you.

You hesitantly walked over and sat down in your spot and looked at the bag. It was black and it had some gold reindeer on it with some white snow, one of those Hallmark looking bags with some white tissue paper.

You notice a card and a gift or two inside. You picked up the card first and saw the red envelope with ‘From Your Secret Santa’ in someone’s handwriting that you didn’t recognize. When you opened up the card, you saw that it was a little generic at first- one of those ‘Hope your Christmas is merry and bright’ kind of sayings, but it was the message that someone actually wrote inside that you didn’t expect.

‘Y/N,

I know these past couple of months may have been hard for you, and that this Christmas may be difficult. But know that you’re surrounded by people who love you.

You’re one Hell of a Deputy and your mother would be proud.

Merry Christmas, Y/N and Happy New Year.

-Secret Santa’

You didn’t expect the card to be that personal, and you sure as hell didn’t know anyone else that knew about your mother. So it made you that much more curious as to what the actual gift would be.

You pulled put the tissue paper and dipped your hand in the bag. The first gift you pulled out was one of those self care kits with a few bath bombs and a scented candle. The next gift you could tell was wrapped when you picked it up.

When you looked at the wrapped gift, you could tell a guy wrapped it since it may have been a little over taped. Maybe that’s why everything else was in the bag instead of wrapped. It was a small box and it made you wonder what was inside. Anyways, when you started unwrapping, you realized that it looked like one of those boxes some pieces of jewelry tended to come in.

Your brows narrowed, wondering who would buy you some kind of jewelry but you opened up the little box nonetheless and when you did, your eyes widened.

Inside of the box, there was a locket. It was silver, in an oval shape. There was a little note in the box that said ‘open me’ and when you did, you swore you could cry if you weren’t surrounded by fellow officers. So you covered your mouth instead and tried to blink back the tears.

Inside the locket, there was a picture of you in your formal uniform on one side, then on the other side of the locket was a picture of your mother in her formal uniform before she retired.

You carefully pulled the locket out of its box before you put it on, tucking the pendant beneath your shirt for safe keeping. Then you put your other gifts back in the bag and set it under your desk.

Meanwhile, Beau Arlen was watching the whole thing from his office with so much anticipation.

As you might have guessed, Beau was your Secret Santa. And after he found out that Denise was your aunt, he knew that he would need to pay her a visit so that you could have something you would really like. After all, you were one of his best officers. One of his best deputies he’s ever had. He wanted to get you something that was special, instead of a generic gift.

When he watched you pulling out the little box, he awaited your reaction. He remembered your aunt saying that your mother passed and she was worried about you feeling a little lonely this Christmas, even if you had your aunt there. So that opened up a door for him to invite you over that night. He was glad that you decided you’d come over after all.

Beau’s gaze softened when you put a hand over your mouth after seeing what was inside of the locket and he smiled to himself before he walked away from his window.

While he was walking to his chair and took a seat, he heard his door opening. When he looked up, Beau saw that it was his other deputy and he grinned.

“Peanutbrittle! How’s it goin’?” He asked and Poppernack grinned.

“Thing’s are going pretty well, Boss! I think it’s safe to say Y/N liked her gift though. She was putting the locket on when I walked by the desk.” He said, causing Beau to grin.

“Where did you even come up with that kind of an idea?”

“Her aunt is the office handler at Cassie and Jenny’s place.” Beau explained and Poppernack was able to put the pieces together from there.

“Did you end up asking her to go to your place for that little bonfire you’ve got going on?” The deputy asked.

“I did, and she said she’d be swinging by.” He assured and Poppernack grinned happily.

“That’s great, Boss.” He insisted but then the radio went off and Poppernack said a quick farewell to Beau since the call was for him.

After his deputy left, Beau shifted his gaze back down at the desk where he had an opened file on you. He knew about your mom because of Denise and he saw within your file that you were at the top of your class at the academy, and your last department knew you were a damned good officer as well. He just couldn’t help but wonder why you were transferred here to Montana.

But after a while, the evening came and it was time for him to head home and as he walked out of his office, he saw you sitting at your desk fiddling with your locket while your gaze was on the computer.

He walked over to you and he noticed that you were working on closing some cases and reviewing some cold cases in the Helena area.

“Hey, why don’t you give that a rest for the evening, Sweetheart?” He couldn’t help using the nickname, it was a habit for him after all with several people. Well, maybe except Hoyt.

You glanced up at him and then you looked back at the computer so you could look at the clock on the screen. You didn't realize it was time for you to go home until Beau said something to you. You sighed a little before you closed the file you were working on.

"I suppose I probably should, shouldn't I?" You asked with a grin.

"Was there a certain time that you wanted me to come over for the fire?" You asked and Beau shrugged.

"Whenever you feel like you're ready to come over. If you'd like to ride with me to my place we can do that. Saves you a little gas, right?" He offered and you smiled before nodding a little.

"Sure, that works for me." You insisted before you grabbed your little gift bag and got up from the chair.

After the ride with Beau you finally made it to his trailer and the two of you got all settled in. You watched as Beau started putting some dry logs into the pit and you grabbed whatever fuel he told you to use.

When the fire was finally started, you sat down in one of the lawn chairs and Beau went back in the trailer to grab the bag of marshmallows he had, as well as a couple of metal rods to toast them.

"From what I've heard, you've been here for over a year. Why do you still live in this thing?" You asked curiously.

"I dunno. Just feels a little cozy. Plus I don't have to make any payments on it like I would have payments on a new house or more expensive rent on an apartment." He answered.

To you, that did make a lot of sense. And you figured a lot of guys weren't exactly partial to change from what you've experienced. Whatever floated the sheriff's boat you supposed.

He offered you a rod with a marshmallow on it and you thanked him for it before letting the marshmallow toast over the fire. Your free hand went over your locket again and you started to think. The only person from the department that ever visited your aunt was Beau. So he would be the only one that would have known to get you something like this.

"So... how long ago did you visit Denise?" You asked with a small grin.

"What are you talking about?"

"I think you know, Arlen." You said and glanced over at him, holding up the locket. You watched him rotate the rod over the fire so the marshmallow would toast evenly.

"This must be why you make a good deputy. You'd make a damned good detective too." He replied, making you blush a little.

"I got your name in the Secret Santa drawing and I needed some advice from Denise. And you know how talkative she can be so I got a little more information than I needed, but it was still useful." He explained.

"So where did you get the picture's from?"

"The internet and social media are pretty useful places, Darlin'. I may be old but I can work my way around Facebook."

"Whatever you say, Beau." You smiled but then you looked at the photos in the locket.

"She would have loved you. She liked people with a good sense of humor. Then she probably would have tried to butt-in on cases we're working on and put her two-sense in."

"Sounds like she should have come out of retirement and joined us." Beau replied and you nodded, grinning.

"Thank you for this. It's really nice."

"Don't mention it. Just wanted you to have somethin' a little special this Christmas is all. Denise had the idea actually." He admitted and you laugh a little, it sounded like something your aunt would do.

When you looked over at Beau, it looked like he was a little concentrated on trying not to burn his little treat. You smiled to yourself before you leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

His eyes widened for a moment before he looked at you. You chuckled a little at the shocked expression before you tried to think of some kind of conversation.

"Okay, if you could make any holiday season permanent, what would it be and why?" You asked.

Beau let out a hum as he tried to think, taking off the treat from the rod and he put it on a gram cracker, "Autumn. I don't know it's just something about the Fall that I like. The leaves changing, and the weather finally starts to cool down without freezing your ass off. Plus Halloween and Thanksgiving are around that time too."

“You know, somehow that doesn’t really surprise me. You seem to be the autumn loving kind of fella.” You admitted and he grinned.

“It’s also a good time for hiking and camping too. I wouldn’t really want to do that in the summer time. It gets too sweaty when you hike, and then there’s more mosquitoes when you camp. I don’t know why but it feels like I’m a magnet for those things and bug spray doesn’t work for me.”

“You must be just too irresistible for the bugs.” You teased and saw Beau smile again.

“What about you? What season would you make permanent?” He asked you, and you shrugged.

“I think I’d make winter permanent. I like the cooler weather, toasting indoors and if it snows you can have fun snowball fights and all. You can still have fires then too either in a fireplace or outside in a pit like this. You don’t have to worry about the anxiety of what the new year will bring, you won’t feel alone on Valetine’s day. You can enjoy as much hot chocolate as you want. Plus people seem to be in better spirits around Christmas time - or at least they try to be in better spirits.”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true. I still pick autumn though. Not as much frost on the cars or ice on the road.”

“I’ll give you that.” You agreed, that was one of the downsides of winter time but you couldn’t let it over shadow that season for you.

As the night went on, the two of you started talking and having a little bit of a deeper conversation or two. It didn’t feel like a conversation between an officer and her superior. In fact it felt more friendly you felt at peace. You two were starting to get to know each other as friends and it was really a nice experience. Somehow you wondered if he could be the sort of person you could confide in one day.

“You know, Denise and I don’t really have a lot going on for Christmas. If you’d like to come over you’re more than welcome. If your daughter comes by for the holidays she’s more than welcome too.” You said and Beau looked at you before he smiled.

“I’d like that a lot, actually. And you’re more than welcome to come here anytime. Maybe for movie night or more marshmallows or something.” Beau said and you grinned.

You could tell that this would be the start of a sweet friendship for the both of you and this would turn out to be a better holiday season than you expected it to be.

Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you all had a great Christmas and that all of you will have a great new year! You guys are amazing and deserve the best! Love you all~💖

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @globetrotter28 @chriszgirl92

#big sky beau arlen #beau arlen x yn #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen x you #jensen ackles beau arlen #beau arlen #big sky #jensen big sky #Beau Arlen Jensen #jensen ackles #spnfandom #daughterofcain67 holiday writing

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yakultstrawberrygreentea · 1 year ago

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It’s been rough. My body is definitely catching up up with my mental state. I’ve had to take a day off or work from home pretty much three weeks in a row for different reasons. I feel like I’ve been juggling so many things mentally and I am exhausted. I’m at my limit and my body reflects that. My body is in pain, I feel like I’ve been on the cusp of getting sick but not really, and it’s been a wild experience. Newer parts of my body hurt. I took more pain killers than I ever have for my flares. Ya girl is pooped. I spent the weekend letting myself just cry it out and rest. In therapy, my therapist will be like “what does your inner child need/want” and mine wanted to just cry. I ended up having a nightmare as well that just wrecked me and I immediately called my boyfriend afterwards to validate I wasn’t stuck in the damn nightmare. I’m at a point where it’s just maxed out that I’m like meh about work. I love my job and I care about it but I’m also like “eh fire me. You’ll take 3 months just to get the balls to do so”. I’m at this spot at work where I know I do my job incredibly well and efficiently and they’d be fucked to drop me so I’m nonchalant about things. It’s also taking a toll on my relationship. Not really but a bit. I took some distance because I’m trying to navigate my healthy relationship with new concepts… like maybe I’m not a shitty girlfriend this entire time and the ways I might have been abusive was just me reacting normally to a controlling partner. I’m trying to find the lines, not default to certain reactions and not scare my partner off. I worried him a bit and I think he could tell I wasn’t myself and it made me even more sad that he was obviously bummed. I mean how can he not when I’m chipper all the time and then suddenly I’m just dragging myself and I don’t want to FaceTime him. It’s like a cycle of beating myself up for things I shouldn’t and it’s annoying. Like I tried to discuss my feelings with my partner over this nice lunch but the waitress interrupted me and I’m so used to just shutting off when I’m interrupted. It’s hard not to just stop in my tracks when it comes to voicing my opinions. Of course it wasn’t the waitress fault and my partner would have lent an ear but I’m so used to be in an environment where my opinion isn’t heard or treasured that my mouth just zips as soon as something gets in the way. Fighting my demons has been extra hard lately. It also doesn’t help that my ex reached out to my cousin who is basically my bestie and basically implied that even though I have a restraining order on him, that it’s “okay” to talk to him. This man is delulu and it angers me. The fact that in the first two months of the year, I’ve had to go to court over 4-5 times, talk to over 4-5 police officers, get scolded at by the same gatekeeping sheriff clerk about how I’m missing something, and pass out five million copies of everything…has just fucked me up. The system is exhausting. I will say though, that every single officer that I’ve had to talk to have been incredibly kind. From some officers telling me where to go, to my court bailiff guiding me, to the several officers dispatched to my house, and more. Not once did I come across a cop who was a dick to me for no reason or didn’t try to help me. Which is saying a lot because Americas cops are not in a good spot PR wise. The worst person in the judicial system was actually the goddamn gatekeeping bitch of a department clerk who made zero effort to be clear, concise or helpful. I feel like these past two months have aged my soul. Yes I got what I wanted but it came with the caveat of false security. Thankfully, we are moving for work. I feel like I’m in this bubble and I’m bursting because I just want more freedom. I just want to scream into a void. And also take a whole week off.

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dustofbrokenheart · 4 years ago

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The Lost Boys: Call 911

GIF by lostinsantacarla

Paul x Reader

Word Count: 2,550

Summary: Reader is out on patrol as part of the Santa Carla PD when they respond to a call out at the wharf.

Amid the riotous flare of fireworks and fire crackers, it was difficult to make out the quickly approaching cop car but Marko prided himself on being observative.

Paul, Paulie, P-Man, his forever partner on the other hand…

Grabbing Paul by the front of his tank, he pulled the other vampire down to hiss in his ear. “We got company. We bail on my signal, got it?”

The honey blonde nodded distractedly, mesmerized by the bright bursts of colors overhead. The reds and blues and whites and pinks mixed with the curtain of smoke, creating a kaleidoscope against the inky night sky.

He only heard part of what Marko was gripping about—something about a signal—but it wasn’t his fault he was having so much fun.

Another of their fireworks went off from behind Max’s Video, making him laugh even harder when some empty pallets became collateral. They splintered into pieces, the crunching sound of the wood masked by the other explosions.

Nothing said summer time fun like launching some Big Boys at the video store. It was a rockin’ light show and piss-off-Max scheme all wrapped in one. The crochety, old douche in question would no doubt have some choice words for them later but Paul wasn’t thinking about that; the only thing on his mind was blowing shit up.

In fact, he was so into it that he wasn’t prepared for the sharp punch to his ribs. He flew into the wall as Marko ran past, scampering to get airborne. “Go, go, go!”

The back door to the store opened with such force that it banged into the wall with a loud crack. Paul could sympathize. Two officers came through and before he could even think to pick himself up and run, they were on him.

The rounder of the two sat on his back, putting all his pounds into pinning Paul down. Normally, he would’ve thrown him off and maybe, probably, killed him, no sweat.

But.

There were too many people around that could catch him in the act. There’s no way Max would step in and not even Paul was stupid enough to slaughter that many people in plain sight.

Marko, he whined through the bond. A little help, bud? I’m kinda stuck.

All he got back was a manic cackle.

Paul squawked in outrage, knowing that the other would not be lending an assist. That traitor was all too content to sit back and laugh at him.

Whatever.

Screw him then.

It’s not like Paul had never been hauled in before anyhow.

“You know,” he grunted to the cop on his back, “It’s a good thing you’re not fat or anything, otherwise this would be more difficult.”

The knee dug into his back even harder and his head was pulled back by his hair. It didn’t hurt that much but still! He worked for hours to make his hair look good!

“Police brutality! I have rights, you know!” he yelled. The cop was starting to get on his nerves.

His face was shoved back into the ground and he ate gravel, sputtering to get the pebbles and grime out of his mouth with mixed success. The taste lingered and the only way to get rid of it would be to wash it down with something—

Hmm. He hadn’t planned on feeding that night but some pig blood would take care of it nicely.

He attempted to at least think of an isolated spot to rip out his throat without getting caught. Maybe in the cop car. Maybe he could drag him to the bushes outside of the station.

Oh! If the guy stopped for doughnuts, he could steal the car—doughnuts sounded good though. A nice chocolate glaze with sprinkles or something filled with strawberry jelly! The corner store on the boulevard had the best selection this time of night. He needed more hairspray, too, as long as he was at it, a magazine or three—he shook his head.

Come on, self, get it together!

“I’m going to find the one that ran. Officer Y/LN, you take this idiot back to the car and sit tight until I get back.”

Roughly, he was hauled to his feet and he had been so focused on the tub of lard that had him on the ground that he forgot two cops had burst through the door.

He planted his feet and refused to be moved as he glanced at the second one. It was like pushing at a stone wall, the other at his back unable to shove him into motion.

Immediately, Paul realized his mistake.

Why was he so occupied with that other asshole when he could’ve been looking at you, been pressed up against you the entire time?

The saying was that everyone loved a person in uniform and Paul was no exception. You made the normally dull standard navy uniform look good, the short sleeves showing off your arms and the pants managed to cup your ass in the tastiest way.

He’d cup your ass even better, if you gave him the chance.

Even the serious, disapproving scowl on your face was hot. What he wouldn’t do to get you to make that face with you on top of him, manhandling him any which way you wanted.

Screw his little feeding plan. He was willing to spare your partner in exchange for getting to know you better.

A big happy smile stretching across his face, he finally moved, dragging your partner rather than being forced forward.

“Hey, sexy,” he said with his signature wink, the one that always got him what he wanted with people. “Name’s Paul.”

To his disappointment, you didn’t respond and merely took control of his handcuffed hands as they were passed over.

As you lead him back through the video store, he pulled his arms to the left, acting like he was trying to resist. Just like he expected, you corrected him with a strong, tight grip that sent a rush down his spine.

“Ouch, babe, not so rough,” he purred. “I’m very sensitive.”

He glanced back quick to see your reaction and his bottom lip pushed out in a pout. You still wore a straight face that gave nothing away. No clenched jaw, no embarrassed tightening of your eyes. Definitely no hint of an amused smile.

Gods, babe. You were really testing him.

Guess he’d have to try harder.

***

You were new to the Santa Carla Police Department. Very new. New as in it was your first incident on your first night on patrol.

It was just your luck that you’d ended up with airhead who’d set off a whole fireworks display right outside of a crowded store, which could have serious injury, and was now trying to flirt his way out of it.

Hell—was he pouting?

For a city of its size, Santa Carla PD had a surprising number of job openings. You were new to the area, having moved because it seemed like a nice, sunny California beach town and you were in need of a change.

You didn’t have any prior experience but you’d passed all the screenings and tests and expected the job offer they made. It had benefits, the pay was good, and, importantly, it was legal which seemed to be in short supply around these parts.

That last part was a surprise, especially with the high number of missing people’s cases; you’d think that more places would be desperate to fill jobs, too.

Steering the suspect towards the check out counter, you flagged down the owner who had been the called in to the station.

He turned towards you with a smile on his face and greeted you politely. “Hello, officer.”

“We caught one suspect, sir. The other fled the scene and my partner went after him. I’ll get started on the report—are you planning to press charges?”

The smile was suddenly no where to be seen and he casted a glare at the handcuffed blonde.

“But of course. I’ve told this degenerate and the others in this gang to stay out of here a hundred times before. They’ve gone too far this time.”

The suspect merely shrugged his shoulders and winked at you which set the owner off further.

“That! That right there is what I’m talking about. No respect, no conduct. How is a father supposed to parent if he gets no respect? Maybe they’re missing a motherly influence,” he trailed off.

A motherly influence? Okaaay, then.

Clearing your throat, you tried to bring the conversation back to topic. “Yeah…Well let me put him in the car and then we can get started on the report. Have a good night, sir.”

That should’ve been the end of it but of course the blonde had to open his big mouth. “Bye daddy!”

Max’s hand came down heavy on the counter and you jostled the boy away before he managed to start a full-blown confrontation.

“You surely have a big mouth for someone who’s being arrested. Don’t make things worse for yourself.”

His head perked up and you had to really plant your weight to keep him from turning around and sending you flying into a display in the process. Definitely stronger than he looked.

You noted that piece of information just in case he tried anything else.

“Aww. Are you worried about me?” he cooed. “Don’t be. I trust you to protect me, officer.”

“Any one ever tell you that you’re ridiculous?”

“All the time,” he nodded happily.

The profile of the suspect was coming together in your mind. Clearly, he was simple.

Happy and excitable, and yes, even pretty, but simple.

There’s no way he had been the mastermind behind the firework plot; that honor was likely saved for the one who escaped. He probably hadn’t agreed to do it with malicious intent either. Unfortunately, his inability to think things through had landed him in trouble and he was your problem now.

When you got to the entryway he even tried to the door open. “After you, officer.”

With a resigned sigh, you prodded him forward. Again. Really, this guy was worse than a puppy. A puppy could eventually be trained to listen but seeing as how he was late teens/early twenties, it was doubtful he ever would.

“You said your name was Paul?”

The p in his ‘yep’ popped.

“Last name?”

“Just Paul. I wouldn’t mind getting your name though.”

There’s no way you were telling him that. He would be that much more insufferable if he knew. And try as he might to hide his full name, that would come out when you booked him at the station.

“Well, Paul. You’re being charged with public endangerment and vandalism. Under California law, those are both misdemeanor crimes so most likely—”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved away your words with a flick of his head. Annoyed, you yanked on the cuffs, causing him to moan. “I do appreciate a good pair of handcuffs.”

“You—!” You had to stop yourself from calling him a little shit out loud. No one would’ve stopped you, but you felt weird about it, almost like it would come off as being unprofessional.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to bring your voice back down. “Saying crazy things is only going to make things worse for you.”

“Promise to punish me if I don’t?” Another wink was flashed at you.

It was at that point you noticed he had long lashes for a male. They fluttered like butterfly wings whenever he blinked. Except you had a job to do and really shouldn’t care about how pretty he was.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that it took you by surprise when he leaned in close. Acting on tactical instinct, you threw him against the police vehicle, his torso pressed against the hood with legs spread wide.

The position was designed to be as uncomfortable as it looked so that there was little to no chance of him bucking you off. Good.

“Need I remind you,” you said gruffly, “That you are under arrest. Don’t test me.”

“You should most definitely frisk me,” he panted.

You sincerely hoped it was pain, and not from pleasure, but from your brief encounter with Paul, it honestly could be the latter. Your own heart was pounding in your chest as well but that was due to the adrenaline pumping through your system.

Or so you maintained.

Still, he had a point. Frisking was standard procedure to make sure the suspect was carrying anything potentially dangerous, or illegal. Hell. You were going to have to give into this particular demand, weren’t you?

Wanting to get it over with, you tried to be as fast as possible while still be thorough.

His muscles were surprisingly cold as you felt up his arms and then his back. It was summertime and when most people had problems overheating, it didn’t seem to be an issue for him.

You dreaded going anywhere near his ass but it had to be done. He even insisted on ‘helping’ by pushing his cheeks further into your hands by curving his lower back as you patted down his pants pockets.

“Check the front too. I could have anything down my pants, ya know.”

That didn’t sound suggestive at all. His flirtations were so over the top is was near comical at that point. You couldn’t let him know that though. You were the authority figure in this situation.

“Alright smart guy, the frisking is over with. And surprise, surprise there was exactly nothing in your pants.”

“You wound me, babe.” If he had use of his arms, his hand would’ve definitely been placed over his heart.

Standing him upright, you opened the door to seat him in the back. That had been the plan any way.

One second you held his metal clad wrists firmly in your grip and in the next, he twisted himself away effortlessly.

He spread his hands apart and although they each had a shiny steel band around them, the chain that had connected them broke off with a metallic clink.

Just like that he was completely mobile and he wasted no time.

In another imperceptible move, he covered your back with his front, his breath tickling you.

You couldn’t hold back a shiver.

“It’s been a pleasure, officer, but I really should get going. I’m just too cute for jail.” He rolled his head and his nose traced the shell of your ear with a deep inhale. “This was fun though. Let’s do it again, hmm?”

He shoved you into the back seat and luckily your reflexes were fast enough to catch yourself before you face planted into the leather seat. Thrashing like mad, you spun around as fast as you could but it was no use: Paul was already gone.

Stumbling out, you looked back and forth hoping to catch a glimpse of what direction he went but it was useless. Not only was that little shit stronger than he seemed, he was also faster.

Noted.

With a sinking realization, you knew you were going to have to explain this to your partner.

Oh, you were not looking forward to this…

Worst first night on a job ever.

_______________

Hope you enjoyed Paul! I feel like this is goofy and over the top but I guess that’s basically Paul’s vibes in a nutshell. Marko has definitely gotten Paul arrested before and Max has definitely called the cops on them before too haha. Thanks for reading <3

#the lost boys #the lost boys paul #paul the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys imagines

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daydream-believin · 4 years ago

Text

What About the Smaller Picture (3)

Summary: Merlin knows best. And what he feels is best for you and Douxie right now is to sit around and wait for him to come back from New Jersey, Merlin-knows-when. (3) You’ve adjusted to Arcadian life pretty well. (1) or (4)

Warnings: Swearing, sleep problems?

Word count: 2474

A/n: sorry this wasnt out sooner I’ve had a week

The curtains were blue. They had a little pattern of navy and white flowers and curvy lines like pottery painted with indigo. You had moved one of Doux’s bookshelves to be the second wall to allow the curtain rod to even be in place. This layout effectively created a nook of sorts around your little bed. To be frank the curtains weren’t absolutely necessary. The space kinda gave you university dorm vibes with the two twin beds across from each other. But there was no way you were letting this guy you barely knew watch you sleep. Even if you were good friends, you wouldn’t let him watch you sleep. That kind of vulnerability was special, reserved for only those closest to you.

Speaking of closeness, Douxie had been very adamant about you not calling him by his full name anymore. Made him feel like you were reprimanding him, he said. You could relate to the feeling, and so you were now being careful to replace all ‘Hisirdoux’s with ‘Douxie’s in your head. Or at least a ‘Doux’. Not ‘Babe’. Who told you that. You definitely never referred to him as Babe in your mind. Nope. That Is Not Something Friends Do.

“And,” Douxie rubbed the back of his neck, “Normally when people call me Hisirdoux nowadays it’s because they want to kill me. Only strangers and enemies call me that. Or Zoe when she’s pissed. So yeah, just Douxie is fine.”

“Just Douxie?”

He chuckled, “Yeah.” You looked up at him with a smile.

“Douxie.” He flushed, nodding. “Well, Douxie, what do you want for dinner tonight.”

That little nook you’d built hadn’t stopped Douxie from trying to talk to you all night, however. You’d think the curtains would be a clear message of don’t talk to me I want to be left alone but Doux hadn’t really taken that hint. You tried your best to brush him off the first few nights, even pretending to fall asleep. It didn’t stop him. By the fourth night you spent in Arcadia, you gave in. You had trouble sleeping anyways, as it was apparent so did your roommate, so might as well indulge him. It’s not like ignoring him did any good. Instead of staring at a blue-light screen that messed with your circadian rhythm, you talked about nonsense with Doux. And it was good nonsense. He was way too funny. Or maybe it’s that thing where if you’re into someone then everything they say is hilarious. You’ll never know. But it was nice, either way.

The funny thing was that not only did you actually start to like this, but now it was becoming hard to sleep without it. He helped. Your whole life you stayed up late, and then tossed and turned all night anyways. Now your bedtime routine was talk to Douxie for a few hours, slowly falling asleep, and then you’d sleep the whole night through like a baby. No more restlessness. No more waking up over and over again. Even if you did, you could just listen to him snore for a bit and fall right back to sleep. You guessed it was the feeling of safety he provided. Like someone was watching over you, even when you were at your most vulnerable. You’d never really had that luxury before.

You had started noticing the trouble coming back when he would stay out late sometimes. And Douxie was gone one night and you suddenly couldn’t sleep at all. This was bad. A problem, if you will. But no matter. There were more pressing things to worry about.

Like the fact that all week, Douxie had been hinting that he had something you two were going to do soon. He would not tell you what it was. In fact he was taking quite a bit of joy in dangling this “surprise” in front of your face but not telling you anything about it. It was driving you a little crazy. You hoped what he had planned was nothing too wild, though. It’s not that you weren’t down, you were just tired. But you could use a little shaking up. This bookshop existence was boring. You weren’t boring. You had enough crazy stories to last an immortal lifetime from growing up in New Jersey. Not just modern-day Urban New Jersey. Early colonial Quaker-dominated New Jersey was wild too. Especially as one of those infamous New England witches. Maybe Douxie was taking you on some magic errand. That would be great, you were dying to do something actually in your job description ever since you got here. Not that working in the bookshop wasn’t nice, it just wasn’t magic. You were craving magic.

But alas, as the sun was setting and the last patrons left the store, life moved on as mundanely usual. You flipped over the sign, scratched a sunbeam bathing Archie behind the ears, and started the process of re-shelving all the damn books that customers left strown about. The sunset turned the bookshop pink. There were fewer cars rushing by. Now that there were no customers, it was very peaceful. Just you, Archie’s snoring, and the soft lute music playing. The music was lute covers of popular songs, and at this point you were pretty sure it was Douxie himself who recorded this shit.

Speaking of Douxie, you hadn’t seen him all day. It had made working the bookshop extra extra boring. Like if he wanted you to be free labor, he could at least give you the decency of his lovely presence. But no, it was just you, all day long. All by your lonesome, with nary a cute theater-kid adjacent wizard to keep you entertained with his company. It was a travesty really. But anyways, where was he. Better not be having fun without you.

You like to think your thoughts summoned him. He came in through the back door, panting, disheveled. Singed? He frantically looked out the door’s window into the alleyway from which he had just came from, looking for something. Whatever it was, he must have seen it, since he looked panic-stricken. In a painfully obvious attempt to swallow the fear, he turned to you, trying his best to sound nonchalant.

“SO. You know that thing? The surprise? Well. It is here a little sooner than I expected it to bE—” A loud crashing noise came from the alleyway. “Oh, fuzzbuckets.”

You dropped the book in your hand. “WHAT DID YOU DO.”

There was another very loud crash, this time closer. Douxie glanced back for less than a moment before rushing over to you, taking you hand.

“I’ll just have to tell you on the way love, come on!”

You two fled out the front door of the shop like your tails were on fire. Speaking of tails on fire, once you rounded the shop to the alleyway, you found out just what Douxie had been running from that was making such loud noises. Hellheetis. Five large hellheetis. Blazing bright in the Arcadian dusk. How the neighbors haven’t already called the cops or the fire department was a mystery. The large lion-like creatures growled, stalking down the alley. It was only a matter of seconds before they smelled and or spotted you and went back into the chase. You had to make a plan and fast. Distracting you from your thoughts, Douxie nervously laughed beside you.

“hehe, uh, could you believe there was only one of these at the start?”

You slowly turned to the wizard, “Did you,, hit them, Hisirdoux?” You could call him that now because you were in fact pissed off at the moment.

“Only twice.”

“Only twice… Okay”

“I may not be the best at monster identification. Or remembering which tactic to use for which.”

“I can see that.” You tried to keep your voice as calm as you could, which got a little easier to do as the hellheetis turned down a different alleyway, putting some more distance between them and you. They were still searching though, that was apparent. Thankfully the stench of the alley trash was keeping you covered.

“Believe me, Archie gets onto me about this all the time.”

“It’s okay… just. I think I have a plan. But one of us has to be bait. And it’s going to be you.”

“That’s fair.”

You sprinted up the stairs of the bookstore and up through the ceiling hatch onto the rooftop. You first instinct was to get them to the center of the square, where you could use the fountain as a water source. The alley they had started going down opened up to the square anyhow. It would have been a straight shot. But dear Mr. Casperan made a fuss about that being too out in the open or whatever.

Next solution. The bookstore’s rooftop had a facet, Douxie told you. You’d like to imagine it was put there so some nice old lady could have had a sweet rooftop garden without too much hassle. Maybe you should start a sweet rooftop garden. You and Douxie could have a little oasis in the city up here. You could grow veggies and flowers for your table. Maybe make a cute little picnic area. Stargaze at night. The facet. You quickly found it and made work of turning it on. Or at least you tried your best. You could hear roaring, getting louder, getting closer. The scary growls and roars were punctuated by Douxie’s frantic footsteps, grunts, and gasps. Please don’t get eaten, Douxie.

The facet was so rusty, it took all of your strength to get it to budge. And then nothing came out really, the hose attached to it lifeless without so much as a trickle. You tried to unscrew it from the facet to see if there was a problem and the metal part of the hose disintegrated in your hand. Okay. No water was in fact coming out of that facet.

Imaginary sirens rang in your ears. You had to get water, fast, or your partner was gonna be kit & kadouxle. Hellheeti chow. Growl mix. Douxies. Fiery feast. The big cats were gonna eat him okay. After managing to get the facet turned as fast as you could, fueled on pure adrenaline, and still getting little to no water, you made a judgement call of fuck that. Magic time. To be completely frank here that should have been what you had done in the fucking first place, but hey, fear dulls the mind.

Gathering up as much water as you could, like, metaphorically feel in the pipe, you pulled that shit out with all your might. Aaaannddd because of this you may have not actually remembered that you would need to catch said water in order to, you know, use it. Instead of a nice bubble to be used at your discretion, a magic roof-water tidal wave washed over you and over the side of the building into the alley below. Thank your lucky fucking stars that Douxie just so happened to have gotten the fire felines to the right spot in time. The uncontrollable rain rushed down, dissipating the hellheetis, soaking Douxie darling, and flooding not only your alley but all the alleys connected to it. Holy shit, stop it! STOP IT! It took a second, but you did finally get the river to stop pouring out of your rooftop. Fingers crossed there were no basement windows open and all your neighbors had flood insurance. And that no one saw. Can’t be connected to you if no one saw right. Shhhhhh.

You peered over the ledge to see if Douxie was alright down below. He looked like a cat caught in the rain himself. You probably did too. Douxie’s soaked bangs covered his eyes. Nevertheless, he was able to see you up on the ledge and gave you a thumbs up. You awkwardly returned it.

Toweling off your hair, and now in nice dry pajamas, you walked out of the bathroom to join Douxie on the couch. His own hair towel hung around his shoulders. You took a moment to enjoy how cute he looked all ready for bed, cozy in the blankets on the couch. And that semi-wet hair was looking pretty nice too. You only allowed yourself to linger on this for that moment however, as you remembered you were supposed to be mad at him right now. You crossed your arms as you approached the wizard.

“SO, dearest Hisirdoux, may I have the decency of getting to ask the question, WHY.”

“Funny story really.”

“Really?” You raised a brow

“Really.”

Douxie fidgeted with his hands. You watched this little nervous gesture intently as you sat down next to him. He took a deep breath before beginning,

“First thing. You’ve been here for some time now, and I thought it was enough time for me to start sharing my little, er, excursions with you,” Douxie’s face flushed a little, “I like monster hunting, and now that I know that I like you, I thought I’d like it more if I brought you along with me?��

Your face was flushed a little too now. “Hey, stop it, I need to be mad at you.” Yeah well the smile you wore gave up any pretense of that. Sorry.

“I didn’t know how familiar you were with monsters or how skilled at fighting you were, so I decided to go get some test monsters from Mervin the Monster Dealer, just to make sure our first time would be safe. FIRST TIME MONSTER HUNTING TOGETHER.”

You stifled a chuckle. “And you didn’t just ask me?”

“It was supposed to be a cool surprise okay.” He buried his face in his hands.

“… Hellheetis?” Safe monster your ass.

“Yes, I mean no, I- Mervin sold me the wrong thing alright. I thought I was buying those cute little fire sprite things you can easily just put out with your boot.”

This time you did not hold back that laughter. And you laughed, and Douxie laughed, and soon both of you were uncontrollably cackling until you were out of breath. Archie came in to see what the commotion was about and then promptly turned back around to go back to his spot in the window. You clutched your chest, still cracking up despite the lack of oxygen. Douxie wiped some tears from his eyes you were sure hoping were just from laughing too hard. You rubbed a hand on his back.

“So, I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day. How bout movie night?”

Douxie’s tired eyes smiled at you, “Yeah, I think that would be lovely.”

“Hey, I had a good first monster hunt, Douxie. Thank you,” You pulled your cold feet up under your legs, “But could you stop hogging the blankets!”

#douxie x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x y/n #tales of arcadia x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux casperan imagine #Douxie Casperan x reader #tales of arcadia imagine #douxie #my writing #watsp

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acenancy · 4 years ago

Note

Bruh id definitely want to hear some of your ghost stories

WOW. Okay, I did not expect people to actually want to hear these, but I’ve gotten a few asks requesting I share! Lol. So I guess for each ask I receive, I’ll tell a “real” Goodperson Family ghost story. I promise I have enough to tide you all over for...forever. These things are kind of a regular occurrence for us.

*For the sake of privacy, I’ll always change or shorten the names of people and places. None of my stories will be exaggerated though, except in the style of my writing (lol).*

I’ll start with the earliest story I can remember. Possibly even the wackiest: The Boulder Poltergeist.

In the 1950’s, my grandpa G and grandma V moved their family of 6 to Long Island. We’ll call the neighborhood they lived in (and continue to live in) Scaretown. Scaretown was still mostly woods and strawberry fields back then, but there was a little police station and an even smaller fire department too. Grandpa G was the Scaretown fire chief.

As the years went by, little developments began to spring up along the island. Families moved in, families settled. Scaretown remained small, though, so Grandpa G never saw anything but the occasional stove fire or cigarette mishap. Nothing crazy.

One development, however, was carved out of a section of the Scaretown Woods. Almost as soon as families began moving into it, the police station began receiving complaints about rocks being thrown at their houses. Rocks that were being thrown every day, at the same time of day. And the rocks being thrown weren’t small either. Not like pebbles. Not even cobble rocks.

BOULDERS were being thrown. Straight from the woods to the houses which were built along the wood’s edge. Crashing through windows, falling through roofs, causing serious property damage all around. SUPPOSEDLY.

Naturally, all sorts of tales of ghosts and curses began to fly around lil ol’ Scartown, and the people were getting concerned.

But Grandpa G wasn’t buying it.

As most of my family members are (odd, all things considered), Grandpa G was a practical man. Very much a no-bullshit sort. He thought the boulder stories were exaggerated, if not totally made up. Being the father of 4 genuinely god awful children himself, he assumed, if the rumors were true, that teenage vandals were the ones terrorizing the new people in town. Possibly even his own teenage vandals. So, to control his blood pressure, he didn’t pay the stories any mind.

The police, though, had been investigating the woods surrounding the new development, inspecting the damage done to the houses, etc. The wreckage to the homes was significant. It truly did look like flying boulders were crashing into them.

And, when the police arrived at the time the new homeowners said the boulders were being thrown, they claimed they saw them soaring through the air themselves.

Logic told the police this was not happening by one man’s strong arm and his pure force of will. The only possible way they could figure these builders were flying was by a catapult.

Which sounds insane.

But possibly not as insane as what happened whenever the police tried entering the woods and locating the source of the flying boulders themselves.

The deeper the police traveled into the woods and the closer they reached what they assumed was the point of launch, dirt would begin blowing violently at them, pebbles and twigs rising from the ground with a vicious wind and pelting them. Each time, their vision became obstructed so badly that they could not venture into the woods any farther. They would retreat, battered and bruised and confused.

They realized they needed backup if they wanted to get closer to this catapult. Preferably backup with gear and equipment meant to withstand harsh conditions.

So Scaretown’s small police force hit up the fire department.

Chief Grandpa G had to laugh. Again, he was not convinced by the tales that were being spun to him. Flying boulders? Walls of dirt and sticks running police out of the woods? To him, it sounded like the cops were simply failing to do their jobs and making up excuses. He gladly agreed to help them out, if only to prove how incompetent they were. So he rounded up his department and scrounged up fire gear for the entire police force too.

When the two departments arrived at the development, they stood at the edge of the woods, waiting for the exact time the boulders were supposed to start flying. There, Grandpa G got to see for himself that the rumors were true - but nothing like he was being told.

The boulders were gliding through the air. Slowly, in perfect arches, landing so softly that sometimes they would hit the side of a house and fall to the ground with only a thump. Most of the time, the boulders were not even causing any damage at all.

It was odd, Grandpa G had to admit. But he wasn’t a genius and he still wasn’t convinced it was the work of anything other than a crazy person and their catapult.

So, before the boulders could stop flying, he and the dual departments entered the woods together.

Things remained calm at first. They ventured into the woods, the only strange occurrence the one Grandpa G was now familiar with. Boulders soared above them like birds, silent and without any fanfare.

They walked deeper.

Eventually, just like the sheriff had told Grandpa G, dirt began to pick up from the ground, blowing straight into their faces and blocking their view of anything before them. Pebbles, too, were being thrown all around them, and twigs were whacking at their arms and legs, almost as though beating them away. Though this time, thanks to the fire department, their faces were shielded and bodies protected. They were able to continue onward.

But conditions worsened.

It reached a point where they were being blown backwards, falling to the ground, afraid that they would lose each other amongst the trees and the growing night.

They needed to stay together.

It didn’t take much convincing for both the police and fire departments to abandon their mission of finding the catapult. Cops and firemen joined hands, together forming a wide, though tenuous circle.

And things began to calm.

To their amazement, their circle appeared to push the flying debris into their center, containing it until there was a mini tornado swirling in the middle of them. Braving the forces of nature, they all began to move forward, still holding hands, until they were all one huddled mass.

The storm between them grew smaller and smaller as they moved, until it died right there at their feet.

But they were too scared to continue their search now. Like the brave, grown men they were, they all ran the fuck out of there instead.

The next day, at the time the boulders were usually scheduled to fly, the skies remained clear. No complaints were made by homeowners. No boulders came soaring from the woods.

And they never did after.

Grandpa G and a few other guys did search the woods again, but never found the catapult or the boulders they assumed were there. All they found was a clearing amongst the trees where they all held hands, and a pile of dirt, twigs, and tiny rocks piled in the middle.

Until the day he died, No Bull Grandpa G swore they encountered a poltergeist in those woods. Sometimes, though, I’m not so sure.

Can a poltergeist attach itself to you? Does one follow you and your entire family for the rest of your lives? Can one even curse you?

Or could it be something else?

Like I said, my whole family has enough ghost stories to rival R.L. Stine.

And they all started in the woods of Scaretown.

#goodperson family ghost stories #this reads a lil dramatically but it's just to hold your attention #out of respect for my family I'd love to share these stories with you but I'll never ever exaggerate one #this is just the craziest one I've heard #so far bahaha #mine

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ao3theskyisblue · 4 years ago

Text

Here’s to everyone (but mostly us)

Summary:

"Have you ever thought what the world would be like if we hadn't met?"

"I don't know about you, " "But since the day you've appeared in my life, I can't imagine anything else."

Or, a fun little fic to go with that emotional scene in episode 4, where TK mentions being a personal shopper.

For @pragmaticoptimist34 here’s the fic to this post 😊

Click here to read on AO3 :)))

“Have you ever thought what the world would be like if we hadn’t met?”

Carlos paused with his knife mid-slice, tilting his head up to meet TK’s gaze as the man was currently perched atop the kitchen counter. His posture was relaxed, green eyes shining in curiosity more than anything else, and so Carlos looked back down, resuming his chopping, silently waiting for him to continue.

“How different our lives would be?” TK hummed, swinging his legs gently back and forth. To others, the action may have been distracting, but to Carlos, it was one of the most endearing things he’s learned about his boyfriend. It was cute, how he almost seemed to be doing it unconsciously.

“I don’t know about you,” Carlos set down his knife and picked up the zucchini, moving them from the cutting board to a nearby bowl.

He had planned on making something quick when he asked for TK to bring some baby cucumbers on his way back when he got off shift, but that thought had quickly went out the door when TK arrived, kissed him chastely, and took out two giant zucchinis.

“TK…I asked you to buy cucumbers.”

“I did?” TK pointed to the two green vegetables he had just plopped onto the kitchen counter.

“…”

After rinsing the knife in the sink, he placed it down before looking up at TK again. “But since the day you’ve appeared in my life, I can’t imagine anything else.”

He watched, intrigued, as a pink tint slowly surfaced on TK’s cheeks, chuckling at the fond eye-roll.

“How do you even have the energy to cook and flirt with me right now? You just got off a 12-hour shift.” TK groaned, though the wide smile on his lips told Carlos all he needed to know. Deciding that the fried rice could wait just a little longer, he moved closer to where TK was sitting, smiling when he automatically spread his legs a little to accommodate him into his space.

“We both got off a 12-hour shift. And there is no such thing as being too tired to flirt with you.” Carlos mused, his smile widening as TK leaned in to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “The world could be ending, and I’d still flirt with you, rest assured on that.”

TK let out a sound between a snort and a laugh, leaning in to kiss him again, this time on both cheeks. They stayed like that for a while, bodies pressed in close to chase each other’s warmth. Carlos’ hands were settled comfortably on TK’s lower back, and the latter had squeezed him in tighter with his legs, hands playing with the stray curls on his nape.

And as always, their eyes never strayed far from the other.

Carlos nudged TK lightly when he suddenly let out a small puff of laughter, raising an eyebrow in question.

“I was just thinking of other scenarios where we could have met if life went in a different direction. Can you imagine me as a teacher?” TK snickered, and Carlos leaned back slightly.

“You are very good with kids.” TK’s smile turned a touch softer before returning to mischievous.

“I would create so many situations where they would have to call you in. Just to see you.” TK grinned, one hand shifting to push back some loose strands of hair from Carlos’ face. “I would even put myself through teaching chemistry, just to cause some mishaps.”

If there was a word to describe how much he loved the man in his arms right now, it probably wouldn’t fit in any dictionary.

“Wrong team, babe. Pretty sure they’ll call the fire department first.” Carlos pointed out. TK shrugged, poking a finger to Carlos’ chest, right above his heart.

“You’re going to look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t even consider responding for questioning?” TK raised an eyebrow, and…okay yeah, he did have a point.

“If I decided to become a cop, we could have worked together.” TK continued, and Carlos forced the image of TK in full APD uniform out of his mind, not needing another reason to put off their dinner until further notice. He’s already had numerous visual pleasures of TK in his worn out APD shirts, he didn’t need a heart-attack when his boyfriend completed the ensemble.

“HR would probably have had one of us transferring to the other side of the country in a second.”

TK reeled back, as if almost offended by that.

“You don’t think I would make a good colleague?” Carlos gave him a look, not buying the innocent expression for a moment. TK grinned, nudging him with his feet. “I would be on my best behaviour?” His expression didn’t change.

“You’re not the only one who would have to restrain themselves, you know,” Carlos murmured, hearing TK’s breath hitch slightly. “HR would be breathing down on my neck as much as they would be breathing down on yours.”

“We could just get transferred together. Problem solved.” TK suggested, and Carlos rolled his eyes fondly, shaking his head.

“Care to test the theory?”

Carlos frowned, confused.

“That I can convince anyone that I can be in any profession, no matter what you introduce me as.” TK tilted his head adorably, and – what.

“I’m…not sure I understand? Why would – “

Something passed over TK’s expression, but before Carlos could read what it was, it was gone.

“It’ll be fun! Plus, I like being right.” TK grinned.

And…okay, who was Carlos to not indulge his boyfriend?

“Fine.”

It didn’t mean he couldn’t tease, though.

Moving back towards the cutting board, focusing intensely on the peppers this time, he asked, “You know what you would definitely pull off though?” Without even looking up, he knew TK was looking at him with his eyebrows furrowed adorably as he tried to discern the answer.

“What?”

Carlos gestured towards the zucchinis, grinning widely.

“A personal shopper.”

Carlos laughed, not even trying to dodge as TK kicked him in reprimand.

“And people say I’m the smartass.”

It was rare, but not altogether impossible to see each other accidentally while the other was on the clock.

He had planned on running some errands when he noticed the brazen ‘126’ scribed across a familiar fire truck, its occupants currently putting back their supplies. Carlos recognized most of the equipment being put back were medical related, and they were sporting relaxed expressions so he guessed the call hadn’t been too bad.

He didn’t want to disturb them in the middle of work, and turned to walk back to his car when TK spotted him, smiling in pleasant surprise.

“Carlos?”

And there goes that plan.

Carlos returned the smile, closing the distance between them.

“Hey, you.” They had agreed on keeping the PDA to a minimum while on the job, so Carlos didn’t lean forward to give him the usual quick kiss they usually shared. He noticed TK catching himself before he did just that, and felt warmth blossoming in his chest.

“Is that our dinner?” TK tilted his head towards the bags in his hands, and Carlos gave an affirmative nod.

“I got extra cucumbers, just in case.” Carlos teased, stepping out of the way stealthily as TK lifted his leg.

“That was one time. And I was tired.” TK huffed, lowering his leg to lean against the firetruck casually. Carlos never knew he loved a man in uniform until the day he saw TK in his, the blue shirt tucked neatly into his work pants, tight and accentuating all the right places.

Though, TK could be wearing a burlap sack and still look as beautiful as he looked right now, he just somehow made everything work, much to his never-ending captivation.

Stepping closer, eyes trailing quickly to see if they were alone, Carlos leaned in to press a quick kiss to the corner of TK’s lips. Leaning back, he chuckled at TK’s stunned expression.

“Reyes?”

Tensing, he saw TK’s eyes widen further as he made a discrete motion for him and turn around. Carlos did exactly that, only to see one of his co-workers heading in their direction.

“It is you! Day off today?” The man, Karl, smiled kindly and Carlos couldn’t do anything but nod slowly.

“Yeah.” Karl looked towards TK curiously, and Carlos hoped the smile on his face wasn’t too awkward. “Karl, this is TK, my b-“ TK nudged him lightly, green eyes now gleaming with mischief. Carlos rolled his eyes at the ‘remember our pact?’ silently being voiced between them and sighed quietly, giving Karl a wary smile.

“-my colleague.”

The word tasted funny on his tongue, and felt wrong, but a deal was a deal. He would humour TK and this game of theirs, even though he was sure he sounded not the least bit convincing.

“Your...colleague.” Karl said slowly, as if waiting for something more. When he gave none, the baffled look he gave him keyed him in on how Karl had definitely seen the kiss from earlier.

And okay, yeah, Carlos himself wouldn’t have been convinced either if that were the case.

“Very close colleagues.” TK grinned, seeming to read the situation now and patted Carlos’ shoulder meaningfully. Karl’s lips twitched further upwards.

“I...see.” He clearly doesn’t see, but still gives them an amused smile. “And here I was thinking that I knew all our colleagues. Especially the pretty ones.” Karl teased, and Carlos couldn’t help laughing lowly as he waggled his eyebrows.

“I’ll leave you two to it.” Karl chuckled, giving Carlos another knowing look, which he rolled his eyes good-naturedly at. He turned to TK, who was snickering quietly.

“You know, if you hadn’t kissed me, he might have bought it.” TK hummed, grinning mirthfully. Carlos looked at him wryly, shaking his head.

“Should I take back that kiss then?” Carlos mused, his lips tugging up into a smile at TK’s immediate ‘no.’

“Kisses have a no take-back rule. It’s practically law.” TK said seriously, and Carlos grinned.

“Law, huh?”

TK straightened himself from leaning against the firetruck to take his free hand, lifting it up to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles. He wasn’t sure his heart got the message to stay calm, and quietly wondered if TK could hear it practically beating out of his chest.

“I’ll see you at home?” TK’s eyes crinkled with that smile, making Carlos feel all mushy inside, as if he needed any more reason for his heart to stop beating at all from overdrive.

He squeezed their tangled hands, suddenly feeling the world warming seamlessly around them.

“Stay safe.”

Four tacos, one bubble tea and three napkins later, TK was on the verge of debating whether he should just call in for a day off with how full he was.

“You know, if you keep on spoiling me like this, I’m not going to fit into my uniform soon.”

His elbows were placed comfortably on the wooden bench, his chin leaning over to rest lightly over his clasped hands. Carlos tossed the last of his own napkins into the compostable container before looking up, lips twitching in amusement. His eyes trailed down slowly down the length of his body, the slight heat in his languid gaze sending a pulse of heat through TK’s body.

“Sounds like a win-win to me.” Carlos mused, chuckling as TK rolled his eyes. Reaching out just a bit further, TK lightly knocked his leg against Carlos’, the movement slightly jostling the bench they were sitting on as they had been linking ankles before. “And just for that, I’m going to be swinging by the station tonight to cook all of you dinner.”

Groaning, TK ran a hand down his face (though not masking his wide grin) as he slouched slightly in defeat. He didn’t need to be looking at Carlos to know he was wearing his signature smug smirk.

“Paul’s already been working at stuffing us to our limits by turning the station’s kitchen into the next MasterChef. Please don’t encourage him. You know I can’t say no to your cooking.” TK looked up pleadingly, making sure that his so called ‘puppy-dog eyes’ were in full force. He knew that Carlos had slowly gotten used to seeing them through their months of dating, but it has still gotten his boyfriend to be a little more lenient with him so far, so it couldn’t hurt, right?

“Too late. I texted Paul to let him know there would be an extra pair of hands helping him tonight and to bring out his A-game.” Carlos grinned, lifting up the hand that wasn’t intertwined with TK’s to wave his phone at him teasingly. He tried to scowl, but it truly was difficult to feel anything but sheer affection for the openly delighted expression on Carlos’ face.

TK parted his lips, mind working to come with a smart comeback but was startled by a shadow appearing next to them suddenly.

“Hello- uh, officer?”

The two men looked up to see a beautiful woman with luscious brown hair tied up in a loose bun standing beside their bench. TK would have been taken aback at how she knew Carlos was a cop, but remembered that he was still in uniform during their shared lunch break. Studying her curiously, TK noticed that her expression seemed a little nervous and her hands were gripping her handbag tighter than necessary when Carlos turned his puzzled gaze from TK to meet hers politely.

“Yes?”

TK ducked his head to hide a smile at how Carlos’ voice had turned from the affectionate tone he used during their private conversations to work-mode in a manner of seconds. The familiar warmth spreading through his body was nothing new. It seemed like there was an infinite amount of space in his chest for his heart to grow with love for the man sitting across from him.

“I- well, I’ve seen you a lot around here and I was wondering if I could get your number?” TK bit the inside of his cheek to hide a wide grin, lifting a hand to cover his mouth lightly in hopes of pushing down the bout of laughter threatening to spill at the woman’s eager gaze. Truthfully, he respected her courage, if not a little taken-aback at her obliviousness.

They were sitting with their ankles locked, hands loosely intertwined on the table, and he was pretty sure two men who had just been feeding each other bites of their tacos screamed anything but platonic.

“I’m – I’m sorry?” Carlos blinked at her, jaw slackened in shock, and TK once again had to hold back a snicker. He wasn’t sure he’s ever seen his boyfriend look so confused over a question before, and opted to look at the woman, giving her his best smile.

“You don’t have to! I just- thought I’d ask? My friends always say I let opportunities pass without even taking a second glance and I guess, decided to take a second glance? This time?” The woman trailed off, eyebrows furrowing, her eyes darting between the two as if the answer to her own question would magically appear if her eyes darted fast enough.

TK’s self-control was currently on the verges of collapsing, the laughter just bubbling on the surface of his lips, threatening to break free so he bit his cheeks harder to keep it at bay. It would be terribly rude, and that was something he tried very hard not to be.

Carlos was completely speechless now, his eyes very obviously glancing down at where their hands were intertwined on the table, and he seemed to only shake out of his daze when TK gently pulled his hand back, giving Carlos a discrete wink at his confused look.

“You have very good taste ma’am.” TK said brightly, and when the woman’s gaze turned to him, she seemed a little taken aback, for what reason, he wasn’t quite sure yet. “What’s your name?”

The woman’s eyes widened, wincing at the question as if realizing she kind of had just popped out of nowhere, and smiled weakly.

“Karoline.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Karoline!” TK grinned, shifting his gaze to Carlos, sending him a ‘play along’ look before turning his gaze to Karoline again. “As this gorgeous man’s personal valet, I can assure you he is a wonderful guy. Also tips very well.”

(It wasn’t exactly a lie, Carlos is absolutely wonderful. The ‘tips’ however…)

TK hid a smirk at Carlos’ incredulous stare, stunned, and the woman in front of them looked a little perplexed but the polite smile never left her face.

“His personal valet?”

TK leaned back slightly, untangling their locked ankles much to Carlos’ silent protest. He shot Carlos a knowing look, reaching forward to pat his hand affectionately before turning his attention back to the woman.

“You see, his hands just get so tired all the time arresting the bad people on the street, so I lend him mine. Sometimes. Quite often.” TK smiled casually, and just to drive in the nail, he added, “I can drive a stick very well.”

TK was well aware that heated eyes were glaring daggers at him right now, which is why he leaned his legs even further back. The badly aimed kick met air, and he let out a quiet chuckle at Carlos’ muffled curse when he slipped slightly in his seat.

Karoline looked even more baffled than before, if not also a little wary now, not knowing who to look at. TK was about to throw in another comment when Carlos suddenly leaned forward, his expression clearing from the earlier shock.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I have to decline.” The conviction in his tone had Karoline immediately step back, and TK could honestly relate a little to her brief flash of disappointment. The memory of a particular moment months ago, back when their relationship was still undefined still left a bitter taste on his tongue.

He looked at Carlos then, and was a little floored at the pulses of affection emitting in waves through his eyes and encasing him in an all-too-familiar warmth.

“I’m in a fully-committed relationship.” Carlos said softly, talking more to him than Karoline, and TK ducked his head as his cheeks warmed.

“Oh. I’m-I’m so sorry.” Unlike before, Karoline was the one lost for words now, and she gave them both a quick and awkward wave before walking as fast as her stiletto heels allowed her, a feat quite impressive all on its own.

TK watched as her figure gradually faded into the distance, turning back to face Carlos again and pauses when he finds his boyfriend staring at him incredulously.

“Seriously?”

Raising an eyebrow at how appalled he looked, TK unconsciously linked their ankles underneath the table again.

“What?”

“A personal valet? Do those even exist anymore?” TK was about to answer when Carlos groaned, shaking his head. “You know what – I don’t want to know. It’s probably better if I don’t.” Carlos sighed, and TK felt his lips inadvertently curl upwards, his amusement from before hitting him full force now from how much he restrained himself earlier.

“I thought I did pretty well. I make an excellent driver.” Carlos snorted. TK narrowed his eyes, scowling.

“Something to share, officer?”

“I let you drive once.” Carlos said slowly, leaning forward and trailing off as if to prove a point, but TK couldn’t really see the point being made.

“And…?”

“Once, Ty. I never thought it was possible to desperately try driving from the passenger side with imaginary brakes until that night. I can still feel the phantom aches in my right leg.” TK frowned at that, trying to remember back to the night Carlos was mentioning. He had stepped off a 24-hour shift and was too tired to stand upright, tossed him the car keys after affirming he had a driver’s license and that was that.

Now that he thought back on it, Carlos had looked a little pale when they got home.

“In my defense…I hadn’t touched a car for a while before that night.” TK tried weakly, biting his lip when Carlos just stared at him flatly.

“You almost reversed us into a ditch when you tried shifting to ‘drive.’”

“Okay now, that is definitely not my fault. I had a motorcycle back in New York and it’s a little difficult shifting mindset from the patterning on the gear shifts – why are you looking at me like that.” TK was fully prepared to explain his case when he caught the strange look on Carlos’ face. His eyes were a little too wide, mouth parted slightly as if in shock again.

“Seriously, are you alright? What did I say?” TK frowned, reaching forward to squeeze Carlos’ hand, feeling a little relieved when he felt him squeeze back, albeit tighter than he had.

“You drove a motorcycle?” TK’s frown deepened when Carlos’ voice sounded strangled, his breaths shallower than before, pupils blown wide.

“Yeah? It was easier, since traffic was terrible. It’s not LA, but rush-hour is absolute hell.” TK explained slowly, studying Carlos’ expression more closely, before realizing what he was seeing and smirked.

“Didn’t peg you to like bad boys.” TK teased, laughing as Carlos scowled.

“Not everyone who rides motorcycles are bad boys. I just have good taste.” Carlos grumbled, smiling now, and TK flashed a grin.

“Admit it, I would make an awesome personal valet.” TK tilted his head impishly, enjoying Carlos’ slightly put-off expression.

“You just told that kind woman how much you enjoyed lending me your hand. And about how much you enjoy our activities in bed. With car puns.” Carlos shook his head fondly, sighing in exasperation. “Pretty sure that alone would get you fired.”

TK gave Carlos a smug smile, leaning in closer so that their faces were mere inches apart.

“But did I lie?”

(On the other side:

“It’s always the pretty ones, huh?” Karoline sighed, slipping the change into the tip jar as she watched the two men she had just talked to smiling softly, heads leaning in subconsciously towards each other in a pocket of intimacy she didn’t see before. From her new angle now, and with her nerves no longer impairing her observation skills, she could clearly see the intertwined hands, the locked ankles, and one of the men teasing the other by slowly inching up the length of the other’s leg.

Reina, the kind lady who ran the taco cart, snorted elegantly, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Oh, honey. Those two aren’t exactly quiet with how much they love each other.”

“Excuse me, sir?”

Carlos paused mid-story about an absurd call involving two brothers, a parakeet, and a toaster he had responded to that day to look down at three kids looking up at them with wide eyes. It was one of the rare days where their day offs finally coincided, and he let TK drag him outside for a walk at a nearby park.

“You know, it’s funny. Usually the roles are reversed.” Carlos drawled, not bothering to lift his head up from the pillow as TK slipped on his boxers, bare feet padding lightly around the bedroom to try and find where his t-shirt had flown in their fun last night.

“I thought I’d finally give you a break from always having to drag me out of bed, and now you want to sleep in?” TK mused, and Carlos pressed his face deeper into his pillow, grumbling incoherently.

“I’m not awake enough for this. How are you even walking right now?” TK snorted at that, and Carlos heard footsteps coming closer before the bed dipped beside him, smiling when soft lips pressed a kiss against his bare shoulder.

“Talent.” TK whispered, and Carlos opened his eyes, reaching out in record speed to tug TK down beside him again, both of them grinning widely. Carlos rolled them over, easily accommodating TK’s weight on top of his, the latter relaxing into his arms.

“Oh? Are our legs suddenly working again?” TK teased, lifting a hand to poke at his cheek playfully, and Carlos shot him an amused glare, tightening his hold before rolling them again, lips twitching up to match TK’s laugh as he pressed him into the bed.

“No.” Carlos huffed, swallowing TK’s answering chuckle with a kiss. He couldn’t help his own bright smile when hands cupped the back of his head, tugging him in closer. What he hadn’t been prepared for, was for the world to suddenly shift. He opened his eyes to see TK looking down at him affectionately, lips slightly swollen from their kiss as he leaned down to press feathery-light kisses all over his face.

“I’ll start the coffee.”

Shaking his head, Carlos gave TK a curious look, tilting his head towards the kids. TK shrugged, not knowing who they were either.

“Yes?” They responded in unison, and the kids exchanged glances before two of them pushed the third forward, delegating him as the speaker, much to the boy’s apparent annoyance.

“Zola wants to know how your arms got so big!” The boy blurted out, gesturing to the girl who scowled at him.

“Oh, like you weren’t wondering too, Zack!” Zola crossed her arms haughtily, her pigtails swinging angrily as she turned her head abruptly to the side.

“I told you to be low-key about it!”

“She’s right though, Zack.”

“Nobody asked you, Cody!”

Carlos noticed TK’s lips twitching in amusement, his green eyes gleaming with silent laughter at the kids bickering. He saw Zola starting to step menacingly towards Zack and kneeled down to their height, deciding to step in.

“I’m a police officer.” Carlos explained, and all three pairs of eyes turned to him. Zola and Zack seemed to piece together the answer judging by the flow of understanding in their gaze, while Cody’s eyes widened in awe.

“So you’re a hero!” Cody exclaimed excitedly, stepping closer, and Carlos felt a little embarrassed at the blatant wonder colouring Cody’s expression.

“It’s a group effort, but thank you.” Carlos gave him a gentle smile, and Cody ducked his head shyly.

“So, what’s your excuse?”

Carlos shifted to see Zack turning accusing eyes towards TK, who blinked at Zack’s boldness. Though, the amused smile was still present when he kneeled down to join Carlos in their conversation.

“You think my arms are big?” TK asked playfully, and Zack scoffed, scowling at Zola who smacked him lightly on the shoulder.

“They’re alright I guess.” Zack huffed, and Carlos had to hold back a laugh at TK’s affronted look. He raised both hands innocently when TK turned to glare at him. Carlos looked Zack right in the eye, sending a mischievous smile in TK’s direction.

“He’s my personal shopper.” Carlos said blithely, accepting the elbow to his ribs graciously. “Though recently, I’m thinking of hiring another considering he brought home zucchinis when I specifically asked for-“

“Okay! They don’t need to know that.” TK fixed Carlos with a look before turning to the kids again, smiling pleasantly.

“So, your arms look like that because you shop a lot?” Cody asked, and Zack frowned.

“That can’t be the case. My mother doesn’t have arms like him.” Zack noted.

“Ah, not necessarily, Zack. Everyone shops differently.” TK twists a little to showcase his arms much to Carlos’ amusement, “Never underestimate the power of weekly sales.” TK winked, but Zack didn’t look too impressed.

“Can you cook too?” Zola asked tentatively, and Carlos snorted.

“Oh, definitely not. He just buys the groceries.” Carlos mimicked a terrified shudder, laughing as TK was very obviously fighting off a pout, trying to act tough in front of the kids.

“I can make coffee! And salad.”

Carlos very wisely didn’t remind TK of their automated coffee machine, instead focusing on the latter part of his remark.

“By tossing the vegetables I already chopped for you into a bowl?”

“It still counts!” TK huffed, looking towards the kids for some validation but Zack didn’t seem too impressed.

“I can make salad and I’m seven. You’re what, 30?” Zack raised an eyebrow, and Carlos coughed loudly to mask his laughter, admiring Zack’s bold personality and apparent lack of filter. TK swayed beside him, clasping a hand to his chest dramatically.

“I am not that old.” TK groaned, pointedly ignoring Carlos’ bemused stare.

‘You’re 26 Ty, he just rounded up.’ Carlos raised an eyebrow in silent communication, and TK rolled his eyes and stuck up a certain finger out of view of the kids.

“So, to answer your question Zola, no, he can’t cook. Other than tossing together a salad.” Carlos chuckled.

“I didn’t hear you complaining when I tossed your salad.”

Carlos choked on air, narrowing his eyes when TK snickered. He tilted his head sharply to where innocent seven-year-olds were listening, all of which were looking up at them in confusion.

“Personal shoppers toss your salad too?”

“What does that even mean?”

“Maybe he helps him coat the sauce more evenly-“

“Alright kids,” Carlos interrupted, nudging TK sharply as he laughed, “I’m sure your parents will be picking you up soon.” He looked up to see a man and woman heading in their direction, giving them a strained smile before standing up and pulling TK with him.

“It was nice to meet you all!” TK called back, stumbling as Carlos pulled him in closer, walking briskly in the opposite direction.

“You’re shameless.” Carlos hissed once they were out of earshot, his arm curling around TK’s waist to give him a full view of his unimpressed glare. TK merely stepped into the hold, lips curling up impishly.

“To be fair, Zack started it by saying I was 30. Plus, they’ll probably forget this even happened when they’re finally old enough to understand.” TK shrugged, and Carlos sighed.

“Let’s hope so.”

(On the other side:

“Hey mom?

“Yes sweetie?”

“Why would someone toss someone else’s salad? Why not just do it yourself?”)

The first thing his boyfriend does is hold up both hands, palms facing forward placatingly.

“I can explain.”

No, he really can’t. He could probably try, but nothing that Carlos was going to say now would deter him from doing a thorough checkup and then sending him to the hospital for further checks.

“Enlighten me.” Even though he was itching to run his hands along his boyfriend’s tattered uniform to check for hidden injuries, he forced himself to push forward what minuscule amount of composure he had left to stay put at his spot a few steps away.

TK watched as Carlos shifted his weight, the slight wince at the motion almost making him sprint forward to just throw him on a stretcher. He opted to just tighten his hold on the nylon handle of the first-aid bag he was holding, silently waiting for him to speak.

“We thought we had sealed off all the exits.” Carlos started, reaching up a hand to run through his messy curls. There was a scratch on his hand that was still bleeding, and that alone had TK’s grip on the bag tighten further. “Turns out there was an underground sewer that wasn’t on the blueprints, which started a car chase.”

A car chase.

That was certainly a mild way to put it.

When his team had arrived on scene, TK had felt his heart plummeting to the cold concrete floor at how the first car he saw was crushed so badly it looked more like the truck that had T-boned it had eaten it rather than simply crashed into it. And that wasn’t even the most terrifying thing about the scene.

It was the fact that there were also multiple APD cruisers, the glass from their shattered windows scattering the ground, gleaming menacingly in the low evening light, as if taunting him.

Because Carlos’ cruiser had been one of them.

TK almost dropped the saw he had been carrying when he saw it as the one nearest the horribly crushed car, and suddenly felt the world not having enough air the breathe. His team had noticed immediately, grim expressions on their faces when they slowly pieced together the scene in front of them, and they worked on autopilot.

Paul grabbed the saw from his hands, squeezing his shoulder in passing. Marjan and Mateo all gave him reassuring smiles, squeezing his arm, and his dad and Judd gently nudged him towards where a couple uniform officers were. His dad had waved at Tommy but she was already shoving a med kit into his hands, Nancy double checking if he had everything.

Which brought them to where they were now.

He hadn’t seen Carlos at first, eyes darting frantically around the scene for a familiar face, ears strained, desperately listening for the voice he loved most in the world. It hadn’t been until he looked towards an elderly couple, the ones that had probably called it in according to dispatch, when he finally saw his boyfriend.

He had already did a full sweep with his eyes for any superficial injuries and felt his heart slowing slightly when he noticed minor bruising, but now, standing in front of the man who could have died without him even knowing, he needed to be sure.

“-fine though. Really, I’m okay. I promise.” Carlos was trying to sound reassuring, and TK appreciated it, but he needed to see for himself.

“Carlos?”

There must have been something in his voice, because Carlos immediately stopped talking, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Yeah?”

TK closed the rest of the distance between them to stare at him blankly.

“Sit your ass down right now and let me check you over.”

He thought his boyfriend would have put up more of a fight, considering both their stubborn natures regarding injuries, so he was pleasantly surprised when Carlos merely sat down slowly on the curb.

TK didn’t waste another second to kneel down and take Carlos’ hand in his, the one he had noticed before that had been bleeding, and did quick work to fix that. They didn’t speak, and he was silently grateful for the quiet, wanting to concentrate fully on making sure he didn’t miss anything. When he slowly brought his gaze up to Carlos’ face, he was taken aback at how warm those brown orbs were, as they watched him work.

“I’m okay.” Carlos repeated again, this time softer, and TK had to glance away as the lump in his throat threatened to spill over. He had been holding his own feelings at bay, needing to do his job without his emotions clouding his decisions because he needed to make sure it was his professional opinion that Carlos was alright before his personal opinion did.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” TK said quietly, tightening the bandage he secured around Carlos’ wrist, mentally noting down the mild sprain to be checked over more at the hospital. He had already poked and prodded every single part of Carlos’ ribs, checked for internal bleeding, a concussion, head lacerations –

He should do a second check.

“TK.”

TK didn’t look up, instead continuing his second round of examinations, when a hand gently took both of his, a head ducking down to meet his gaze.

He didn’t know what kind of expression he was sporting right now, but allowed Carlos to slowly tug him into a hug. He ducked his face into his spot in the crook of Carlos’ neck, closing his eyes.

“I was scared.” TK choked out quietly, feeling the arms around him tighten further. His own hands clutched desperately at Carlos’ back, trying to convince him that he was here, safe in his arms, and not disappearing somewhere he couldn’t follow. “I saw your cruiser, and the world turned grey.” The tears he had been trying anxiously to keep at bay slipped down his cheeks. He almost wanted to pull back to not get Carlos’ uniform wet, but his boyfriend made no move to let go, instead making a wounded noise and pressed him in even closer.

“I’m sorry.” TK did pull back slightly at that, shaking his head violently.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.” TK cupped Carlos’s face between the palms of his hands reverently, not even caring how terrible he must look with wet tears running down his cheeks and eyes swollen red. Carlos was still looking at him like he was the most precious thing in the world, so he could deal with his terrible crying face later.

Gentle thumbs swiped away the rest of the tears that had slipped free, and TK smiled weakly as Carlos pressed their foreheads together. Their breaths intermingled in the chilled evening air, and TK has never felt this warm.

They stayed like that for a while, before TK swiped a hand over his face and moved back a little, eyes running over the wrinkly cop uniform.

“For once, I’m not the reason your uniform is all wrinkly.” TK said lightly, and Carlos’ lips tugged into a bright smile, eyes dancing happily.

“We could always fix that.”

“And you say I’m shameless.” TK chuckled weakly, leaning into the warm palm cupping his face.

“You two are real sweet on each other, aren’t you?”

TK startled at the sudden voice, turning to see the elderly couple he saw before standing beside them, twin smiles on their faces.

How long had they been there?

“How long have you two been together?” The elderly man asked kindly, and TK exchanged a glance with Carlos, who gave him an amused smile, nodding at him to go on.

“I’m his- ah, friend. Bro. Very good bro.”

The elderly couple just looked at them, gazes shifting from one to the other in utter disbelief. TK discreetly pinched Carlos’ wrist at the non-too quiet snort badly hidden into his cough. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best idea he could have come up with, considering how close they had been earlier. But still, he decided to clear the air.

Or, tried to.

“Homies, you know? And all that jazz. I’m sure you understand.” TK added weakly, and clearly they didn’t understand, but politely stayed quiet about it.

“Is that so.” The elderly woman hummed, eyes twinkling knowingly, and her husband snorted. “Well, we’ll leave you two to it then. Carry on being ‘bros.’” The woman winked, before tugging on her husband’s arm to lead him away.

“I’m staring to think you might suck at this game.” Carlos mused, watching the elderly couple walking away before turning his gaze back to him. TK groaned.

“Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best choice.” Carlos stared at him, choking out an incredulous laugh.

“You think?”

TK huffed, raising a challenging eyebrow.

“What, you don’t think we can be just bros?” Carlos gave him his ‘don’t bullshit me’ look, and TK stepped forward, face mere inches from each other and met his stare head-on, seeing which one would cave first.

He had read somewhere that if two people could hold eye contact in very close vicinity without looking away from each other for 10 seconds, their relationship would be purely platonic. He’s lost every single time since the first time they tried it, but he was determined to win this time.

And as always, his conviction wavered whenever he gazed into those ridiculously loving brown eyes that seemed to have a limitless amount of fondness and affection.

Sighing, TK stepped back at the 8 second mark, ignoring Carlos’ smug smile.

“...you’re right, we absolutely can’t. I love doing non-bro things with you too much for that.” TK knew he was probably pouting slightly, but accepted the hand extended towards him regardless, stepping into Carlos’ space once again.

“Let’s never revisit this topic again.”

“Agreed.”

(On the other side:

“Young love really hits differently, don’t you think?” The elderly couple had stopped to look back, smiling in amusement when they were greeted with the two men lost in their own world, unaware of anything around them other than each other.

“While that may be true dear,” the elderly man wraps a gentle arm around his wife, and the same cheeky smile that had made her heart skip a beat from their very first meeting shone on his face full-force, almost taking the breath out of her lungs.

“I’d also say that love only ripens with time.” )

It was different, this time.

The first time they had met his family, it was when he was caught off guard and still uncertain on a lot of things. It had been terrifying, wanting to shout out from the rooftops about how much he loved one man but also at the same time not quite ready to do so.

This time, he had known his parents would be here, and although he knew they might bump into each other, he chose to go with TK anyway.

Unlike the first time, it was TK who spotted his parents first. Carlos felt a light squeeze of his hand and looked up to see his boyfriend tilting his head quickly towards two familiar figures, his expression growing hesitant.

“You should go say hi. I’ll wait here.” TK murmured softly, eyes filled with nothing but understanding and love. Carlos knew he meant it, that he would gladly stay put to not put Carlos in the awkward position he had been in just a few weeks before.

Seeing the overwhelming love and understanding never wavering from TK’s gaze, Carlos felt something settle in his chest.

“No.”

He tugged on their intertwined hands sharply before TK could comprehend what was happening, and pulled them towards where their parents were standing, his mother pointing at a snow globe on display through the window of one of the shops.

His father spotted him first this time, giving him a warm smile and called out his name cheerfully, before his eyes lowered to their clasped hands. Carlos squeezed TK’s hand tighter and straightened, breathing in deeply. His mother turned at his father’s call, a bright smile on her lips.

“Carlitos! What a surprise – “ Andrea greeted warmly, before her eyes also lowered to their hands, widening in surprise.

“Mom. Dad.” Carlos greeted nervously, and felt a wave of courage when TK squeezed his hand in support. “This is my boyfriend, TK.”

And with those five words, it was as if a dam finally broke, his chest suddenly feeling lighter than they had in years. His gaze didn’t waver from his parents. TK was the only one who could feel how sweaty his palms were, and yet, he only clutched him tighter.

This game of theirs would end right here, and right now.

“Carlos.”

Carlos blinked in surprise as his mother’s eyes filled with happy tears. He looked towards his father to see him still sporting a warm smile, unwavering even at his declaration.

His parents looked like they wanted to say more, but his mother shot him a playful glare, silently telling him that they would definitely be having a proper conversation during their family dinner in a few days, before turning their attention to TK.

“TK, was it?” Andrea said kindly, and Carlos felt TK tensing beside him. He turned to see TK smile nervously, reaching behind him with his other hand to wipe it discretely on the back of his pants. The little action had Carlos chuckle quietly, chest filling with so much love for the man standing beside him.

“It’s really nice to meet you.” Andrea smiled, and this time, when Gabriel stuck out his hand to shake TK’s, he hung on for longer.

“It’s a pleasure.” It was a little scary, how his father and TK seemed to be having a silent conversation with their hands clasped tightly, before they finally let go.

“You know, we’re having a family dinner this weekend.” Andrea pitched in as she looked at them both, eyes twinkling with nothing but familial affection. Carlos immediately understood what wasn’t being said, and smiled. He turned to TK, who was already looking at him and squeezed his hand.

“Only if you want to come.” TK’s smile softened at that, and turned to give Andrea and Gabriel a charming smile. Carlos hid his own smile when he saw that his mother was instantly charmed, and honestly, it might be a Reyes thing, to be immediately affected by TK’s everything.

“I would love to.”

“Wonderful! That settles it then, we’ll let you two off. We can talk more this weekend.” Andrea grinned, before fixing Carlos with a look, telling him that they would definitely be sitting down sooner than that, much to his wary amusement. He hugged both his parents, longer than usual this time, before they waved them off.

It had been a long time, since he felt this free.

“Hey Carlos?”

Carlos turned to TK, who was looking at him with overwhelming emotion swimming in his gaze, making his heart pound loudly in his chest.

“Hm?”

TK lifted a hand to cup his jaw, running his thumb gently across his cheek.

“I’m so proud of you.”

(On the other side:

“Did you see the way those two looked at each other?” Andrea murmured to her husband quietly, and Gabriel smiled, nodding. TK, the sweet boy, looked like Carlos was the best thing that could have happened in the world and their son had looked at him the same way.

“We really lucked out as parents-in-law, didn’t we?” Gabriel grinned cheekily, and Andrea swatted him lightly.

“You better not say that in front of our son during dinner; we wouldn’t want to send him to an early grave.” )

They didn’t tell his team about the little game they had going on until a little over a year later, and all of them had varying expressions of disbelief on their faces as they stared at the couple, dumbfounded.

“You seriously called him your bro? A homie?”

“Really? That’s what you took from all that?”

“Sweet home Alaba-“

“How does that even play into this?”

TK shook his head at his friends teasing, rolling his eyes as Marjan nudged him playfully.

“So? What’s this about tossing salads?” Marjan grinned, and TK groaned, pressing a palm to his face in mild embarrassment.

That hadn’t been his finest moment.

“No, I’m curious too. Not only are you tossing salads, but also driving motorcycles? While making sexual puns? Man, I wish I was there.” Paul snickered. They were all supposed to be doing the normal chores around the station, but when Carlos had let it slip about their little game from a year ago, all work had evaporated from their minds in favour of teasing their favourite subject of their clearly fake affections.

“I would give anything to see their parent’s faces when the kids ask them what it meant.” Mateo chipped in, and TK shuddered.

Hopefully they wouldn’t be seeing them anytime soon. So far so good, considering it had been a year.

“So? Which one was your favourite?” Judd asked, not even bothering to pretend he was cleaning as he leaned against a table, his arms crossed loosely.

“My what favourite?”

“Which role-play did you enjoy the most?” Judd clarified with a smirk, and TK threw a washcloth at him without missing a beat, scowling as they all laughed.

“You guys all suck.”

There was a pause, where they eagerly waited for him to answer.

“There was no favourite, per say.” TK hummed finally, an unconscious smile on his lips as the memories took him back. In truth, he had suggested the game for a reason he couldn’t quite explain himself. But when he sat on Carlos’ counter, watching him cook dinner from his failed attempt at buying groceries, remembering what they had talked about just weeks before that…it had been a spontaneous thought. He hadn’t delved too deep into it, other than how fun it was to rile each other up.

“How about my fiancé?”

TK stilled. The entire station had suddenly quieted, and looking up, he noticed all his friends were wide-eyed as they looked at something behind him. He saw his dad peeking down from the balcony, a knowing shine in his eyes, and slowly turned around.

Carlos stood there, a flicker of nervousness passing through his gaze. One of his hands reached into his pants pocket, and TK felt his eyes widening further as Carlos dropped to one knee, in front of the entire station.

Oh my god.

He could barely hear what Carlos was saying during his speech as he clutched a ring box, his senses filled with the image of his boyfriend – soon to be fiancé – kneeling down in front of him with a hopeful look in his eyes, lifting the opened ring box a little higher as if the ‘yes’ wasn’t already threatening to spill out of TK’s lips.

“TK?” Carlos looked concerned now, and he realized that he was just staring at him, jaw dropped in shock, any words he was trying to say coming out in strangled sounds. Clearly, his words were failing him at the moment, so he pulled Carlos off of the floor, nodding furiously as his vision blurred. But even through the blurry haze, he could see Carlos’ beaming smile clear as day.

He watched, mesmerized, as Carlos slowly slipped the ring onto his finger, and he was distantly aware that there was a lot of screaming going on behind him, the majority of it coming from his crew. When he felt his voice starting to work again, he pulled Carlos into a tight hug, pulling back only to scowl at him playfully, smacking his shoulder.

“You idiot.” TK’s voice shook with emotion as he looked down at the shiny new addition to his left ring finger, before looking at Carlos again, eyes warm with fondness and slight exasperation.

“You couldn’t have waited until I had your ring with me?”

(He dropped onto one knee later that night, in the middle of dinner, and TK would never forget the beautiful watery smile that graced Carlos’ lips in response as another ‘yes’ resounded through the air)

“Wow, look at him! That was so cool!”

Carlos turned his gaze from TK who was responding to Paul’s high-five at the server ace to see two kids staring at his husband in awe.

“They’re really Austin’s finest for a reason, huh.” One of them noted cheerfully, before furrowing his eyebrows when he spotted something on TK’s back.

“Aww, they only put last names on their shirts…” He trailed off, and Carlos hid a smile behind the palm of his hand.

“Excuse me?”

Carlos looked up, giving the two kids a warm smile.

“Yes?”

One of the boys pointed to TK, or more specifically, the Strand-Reyes embroidered proudly on the back of his number ’20’ jersey.

“Do you know who that is?”

Carlos’ smile turned into a grin, “Yeah, I know who that is.” He turned slightly so the boys could see his own jersey, watching as their eyes widened in awe.

“He’s my husband.”

Extra scene:

“At some point you’re going to have to blink, Carlos.”

Carlos turned to see Owen, his father-in-law for the past three hours, 43 minutes, and 22 seconds smiling at him warmly. He turned back to where TK was laughing with his parents, his father clapping him on the back at something he said.

“He’s my husband,” Carlos’ heart swelled with love for the man standing a little way away from him for the millionth time that day, “I don’t plan on missing a single second of this.”

#Tarlos #Tarlos fic #A sorta light fic before Monday #Fluff?

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lupin72 · 4 years ago

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Chenford fic prompt-Stuck in an Elevator

For the anon who asked for a Chenford stuck in an elevator fic. Thank you for your lovely words. I hope you like it.

"One hour to go," Lucy chirped, checking the clock on the dashboard. One hour. And then she was a full fledged cop. She had almost done it.

It hadn't been the easiest two years of her life to put it lightly. She'd been kidnapped by a serial killer, her Captain had died, she'd broken up with her first serious boyfriend, her TO was shot on the first day and months later had almost died again, she'd thought she could get a disease from a used needle and her dad had ended up in the ED.

But it had no means been the worst either.

She was still getting to work with two of her best friends and the TO, that had two years ago seemed like he was going to do his utmost best to flush her out in a week, she now counted as a friend.

It was for that reason that, despite her excitement at being qualified, a part of her was dreading it. The voice had been getting louder all day, reminding her that even though Tim had made the last three months as hard as he could (she took it as the compliment he intended and perhaps his own care for her wellbeing) she would miss being with him. His voice, despite what it often had to say, had become a constant to her. His presence at her side was a guarantee. She hadn't realized just how much she relied on him to feel safe until she was faced with the fact that tomorrow? He wouldn't be there .

So she had done her best to drown it out. Teasing him relentlessly about how happy he must be, counting down the seconds until she was free and he got a new rookie to torture.

Tim had remained his grumpy self throughout all of it, not really quipping back as she had thought he would.

"I can tell the time Boot and you would do well to remember, you aren't done yet." He paused as a call came in for a violent disturbance at a nearby office block. Apparently a CEO wasn't taking it too well that his company was going into liquidation.

Tim told them they were on their way.

"Is it wrong I was hoping for a bit more excitement for our last call?"

"Have I taught you nothing, Boot," Tim snarled. The venom in his voice was almost akin to their first shift that Lucy wasn't sure if he was actually joking. But it was Tim, and they were working and he had been acting strange for a week and wasn't telling her why so she knew he wasn't.

"I know Sir, no easy calls," she replied before he could finish whatever rant he was gearing up for. Thankfully, the office block was round the corner or he would no doubt have continued it anyway.

They ran from the car and into the building where the receptionist informed them they should head to the 17th floor.

A small crowd waiting for the elevator parted at Tim's demand and they jumped in .

Lucy swallowed as the doors closed in front of her. The elevator music was an awkward contrast to the fast beating of her heart and their slightly heavy breaths. It was just a short sprint and there was no reason for her heart rate to be so high. Except for the tight confinement they found themselves in.

Only 17 floors, Lucy reminded herself. They would be out soon and she had to be ready for a tantrum. A quick glance to Tim confirmed his jaw was clenched and she knew that he was definitely not in the mood for her to express her need for the elevator to hurry the hell up.

She wasn't a fool. She had forced herself onto many elevator rides, promised herself that she wouldn't develop any sort of phobia. There hadn't been a ride as long as this one though and certainly not one where the tension between her fellow passenger already made the air stiffing.

Floor 13. The door opened. Tim had his hand already on the close button as Lucy forced herself to apologize to the waiting people rather than getting off herself. The short interlude was welcome though and the daylight from the glass offices gave her some relief. It was enough for her to focus.

Just two more minutes, if that, and they would be out.

She looked up to Tim again, deciding if it was worth trying to thaw the tension just some before they had to work as a team to calm down the CEO, when suddenly the elevator went black.

And then it shuddered to a stop.

Lucy froze as she heard Tim curse from beside her and the pressing of buttons as he no doubt hit the emergency button.

It was probably lit up for situations like this, a welcome little glow in the corner no doubt. Except Lucy couldn't see it. Because she couldn't see anything but darkness.

And her heart just about stopped.

What relief the brief stop had brought was now gone. The oxygen in the elevator dropped to nothing. She was back in the barrel. There with only darkness. The air grew thinner.

Her legs couldn't hold her up anymore and she fell to the floor.

"Chen!" Tim cried, "what the hell?" He dropped immediately to his knees the cry more from shock than anger. Despite how angry he had been at her just moments before.

All day he had listened to her gloat about her dawning freedom. All day nothing but excitement at getting to be rid of him. As though she couldn't wait. As though she hated every minute of his company.

Sure that had been his plan at first. It always was with his rookies. He made them fear him to garner respect and to test just how good cops they would be. It wasn't out of cruelty or because he didn't care, he actually tended to care a lot about them, or their safety at least. After all that was his responsibility.

And so what if he cared more about Lucy than the others, if she was the only rookie he could now call a friend. None of his rookies had been kidnapped before. Then again none of them had cried at the thought of him dying whilst sitting on the other end of the door, or recorded him books on tape to help him learn better, or talked him out of aiding his wife, or sent him food, or taken him paintballing for fun.

None of them had made him smile so much either.

And none had collapsed in a dark, broken down elevator.

"Chen can you hear me?" Tim asked, feeling around in the dark for her. He came to his senses and dug out his phone for a light. His hand it turned out was resting on her boot and she had curled herself into a ball.

"Lucy," he wasn't sure what made him say her name. He didn't call her that often. He was a professional through and through and he liked to remind himself that. Maybe at times he had to.

She didn't respond. Instead, her breaths remained loud and labored as though she was gasping for air.

The elevator wasn't large but there was more than enough oxygen and the vent made sure it would stay that way.

Tim moved his hand from Lucy's boot to her knee, the only part he could reach that felt somewhat acceptable to touch. "What's going on Boot? Talk to me." He tried to be gentle he really did but he knew his voice, in its desperation, sounded harsh.

He was met by silence but it gave him enough time to get his head together. And he realized what was going on for himself.

He cursed himself for not realizing it sooner.

"Hey Lucy, its alright," his voice was thankfully softer now, to his ears anyway, "You're in an elevator with me, you're with Tim okay? You're not back there. You survived and you're safe now. We're just stuck for a minute or two and then we will be moving and going to handle that last call you've been celebrating okay?"

His words seemed to be going unheard and if anything she was getting worse.

At a loss, Tim turned to the glowing buttons. He had pressed the help call but maybe if he pressed it again he could get them help and get her out of there. His phone showed no signal.

He shifted to his weight to rise to his feet, when he felt a hand grab onto his arm.

"Tim," Lucy gasped, feebly pulling him towards her. "Don't leave me, please, please."

"Hey," Tim immediately fell back to the ground and shuffled closer to her. "I'm not going anywhere Boot, I promise, I'm just trying to get us help." But his excuse fell on deaf ears as Lucy kept her grip on his vest firm.

"Okay, okay," Tim whispered, letting her hold him. "I'll call on the radios then alright?"

He took a few minutes to make the call, all whilst Lucy kept a tight hold on him. He didn't mention her stare, just that they needed to send the fire department to get them out and a unit to deal with the call.

He had been tempted to ask for an EMT but decided against it. He had faith .

"Tim," Lucy croaked, she was still tight in her ball but her grip on him had loosened some. "I’m sorry but can you talk to me? Please... I-"

"You don't need to explain Boot," Tim replied, he shuffled impossibly closer and, despite the voice that told him to remain professional, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close to his chest. Her breathing was almost back to normal but from the tilt to her voice he knew what came next. He had seen enough panic attacks in his time and was expecting the sobs that he quickly felt her begin to shake with.

"I've got you, you're safe. Just picture those drinks you'll be having when we get out of here. Karaoke I think you said? Bit of a waste of a good night if you ask me but whatever."

He got a sort of hiccup at that.

The radio crackled and the voice announced that the fire department were on their way but maintenance was already at work. As if on cue the lights flickered on.

Lucy startled at the shock and Tim blinked at the sudden light.

She looked even more frail in the dark, curled up at his side. He had always been conscious of how impossibly small she was but seeing her curled up next to him she looked tiny. "See, they'll be getting us out soon. Trust the firemen to be taking their sweet time though."

Lucy blinked at Tim's words and he watched as she opened her eyes to look up at him.

The moment their eyes met he became aware of the intimate position they were in. But he couldn't bring himself to move. He told himself it was for her sake, he could still see the fear in her eyes, but he knew it wasn't just for her.

She terrified him.

"Hi," he whispered. It came out more like a breath.

Lucy's breathing was still jagged, he could feel it shifting her body pressed against his but she managed her first response since the lights went out, "Hi."

Tim felt himself relax at seeing her almost back to her usual self.

"Think I can go ring that help button? I really, really want to scream at someone right about now."

A smile graced her features and Tim rose at her nod.

He got his wish and barked at a janitor to get them out. Lucy doubted it was his words, and probably just luck, but she felt the elevator judder into action and she found that she had the strength to push to her feet.

Tim turned to look at her and gave her a strong nod which she returned.

They didn't speak about it until they were back in the shop.

"Sorry," Lucy confessed, "I just, it was dark and I-"

"Don’t apologize," Tim answered, well aware this was the friendliest he had been in weeks. He didn't feel bad for it, it was all part of the Tim plan, but he knew when to switch that off. It was becoming harder not to press that switch recently. He wanted to be Tim around her more than Bradford, more than Sir. Hell he wanted so much more.

"This, the sort of mental scars you can't seem to get rid of, they don't need an apology. Not to me, not unless they effect your performance on the job. And I know they won't. If we had a perp in here, I know you would have handled it.

"Still, I'll book another appointment with my therapist, talk through some stuff, I've been meaning to anyway."

It wasn't just from the kidnapping. She left that unsaid. After her breakup with Emmet, after realizing she just wasn't ready to let someone in, she had been meaning to call.

But it wasn't just that either. She needed advice on how to change that, on how to let herself be open again because she had someone in mind who she really wanted to be open with.

When he stopped being her pain in the ass superior that was.

"Thank you, Tim. For your help in there and for well, everything else too. I couldn't have asked for a better TO. "

Tim made a signature gruff sound and his gaze remained fixated on the dashboard. Lucy followed it to see what was holding his attention and realized the time.

"You're officially free of me Chen," Tim spoke, turning to look at her. "Congratulations. And if you repeat what in about to say I'll make sure you get the worst calls for the next week but, you were right in that tape of yours. You are the best I've trained. And I think I might actually miss the constant noise. "

Lucy felt tears rise to her eyes and blinked them away. She could see he was holding something back himself but she wasn't sure what. Perhaps it was the come down of adrenaline, or the excitement of graduating but her request passed her lips before she could think it through.

"You know we were planning on going for drinks after shift, Nolan Jackson and me? Well erm do, do you want to come? I think Jackson was going to say to Lopez so it doesn't have to be weird or anything and you won't have to do karaoke but I just-"

"Yeah, I'd like that." Tim put her out of her misery and cut her ramble short. "Lucy."

Lucy blinked at the way he said her name, almost intimate. It seemed to carry an extra weight somehow, it was more than just a mark of her finishing the shift.

Maybe she could find out exactly what it meant over drinks.

#the rookie #chenford #tim bradford #lucy chen

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lake-lady · 3 years ago

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My mother is in/had amental health breakdown and in turn left my two younger sisters moving in with my partner and I. It was very traumatic.

I had to get my youngest sister back in school after my mother took her out, got my sister help with children's aid, lawyers and a psychologist. I was in my first year of university and it really fucked me up, but i had to keep it together for my sisters. I feel like there are so many problems I am trying to help fix. My sisters. My mother. And it's exhausting because I have no help. No family where I am.

I constantly worry about my mother. I call the cops and fire department on her to check in. I'm in therapy now and it helps. But I have school and work. I feel like it consumes my life at times if I let anxiety and worry take over.

It just hurts so bad to see to see my sisters hesrtbroken. I miss my mother.

It's weird to grieve someone who is still alive.

You are so strong and your sisters are so lucky to have you there for them 💚 I can't imagine how hard that is if you're also in college and worrying about your mother.

Are there any friends you can lean on? For babysitting or just regular chores because you're stretched very thin? If there's a time you're allowed to ask for help, it's definitely now and there's no shame it letting people know you're overwhelmed.

Your anxiety is valid though. You're doing the absolute best you can and that's what matters. Having a severely ill loved one is more than stressful, it permeates every area of your life. I hope your mother sees some kind of recovery and I'm sorry you are forced to grieve, my heart breaks for you 💔 if you ever need to talk about your situation my inbox is open 💚

#asks #asks answered #anon

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frightfurtabby · 3 years ago

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HimiKiyo Week 2021 Day 3- The Streets are Long-Ass Gutters

Day 3! Time for a Cyberpunk AU. What is vice and what is virtue in a dystopian future where so many have turned to crime to survive in corrupt corporate states?

I forget if I mentioned this in the last post but all the amino crosspost links will be collected and posted at the end of the week on here.

Word Count: 3,061

Content: Lots of murder, alcohol reference

Links-

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34139533

People were suffering, toiling away at shitty jobs for next to no pay, exploited by the powerful megacorporations. Back in the past it was only nations or gangs that went to war against each other, or against themselves. The trend now for the last 100 years was corporations fighting actual bloody wars against each other instead. Sending out all the low level grunts who they had no use for anymore to die. The worst, darkest parts of humanity were on full display every day whether it was something that made the news or not.

Still, technology progressed even when it seemed everything else had regressed into feudalism. Death and Life became ever more complex as people started being able to be downloaded and uploaded like AI with most if not all memories intact. So what truly counted as being dead now? Stuff that could have killed you before could be better dealt with enough credits to pay someone under the table.

In this backdrop is where Korekiyo grew up their whole life, initially being insulated from much of it. That all changed when they didn’t have my parents protection any more. One of them found it a “step too far” to put the chip with what remained of Sister’s brain in themself. Among other traditionalist qualms about how they dressed and wanted to modify about themself, such as the metal arm and enhanced nervous system. It wasn’t surprising, given how they reacted to people like them any time the topic was in the news.

So for the next few years they were travelling, studying how various people were dealing with their own conditions with a school anthropology department. And yet they weren’t allowed to publish some findings because the “education” megacorp that ran the colleges blocked it.

After becoming fed up with the state of things Kiyo quit and joined a gang, getting to delve in and know more about the so-called Underworld and its inhabitants. People from all walks of life ended up around them: drifters, ex-corpos, sex workers, mercenaries, people who were all of the above and then some. Almost none of it was surprising.

And just a couple weeks ago there was an incident that changed their trajectory again, though it seemed like it was just another in a long line of similar incidents..

A group of Yakuza, emboldened in their power by even more corporate money laundering, at the behest of a giant media conglomerate attacked the headquarters of a rival channel. They overheard that performers were one the upper floors which included one of the showrunners' nieces, this pulled Kiyo in to follow the hit squad. Spread throughout the floors were average people who hadn’t done anything wrong and not all of them were going to be saved.

They met Himiko Yumeno and saved her life because of being in the right place at the right time. As though it were destiny.

She was holed up in a locked room and caught a glimpse of a metal arm holding a steady gun and assumed it was one of the attackers, taking Kiyo down suddenly as they searched for people to help. It took a few moments of pleading to clear up the misunderstanding on their part and help her open up an emergency door for the rest of the show’s cast. It was here they were properly introduced to each other.

“I’m so sorry about that. You can never be too careful.” she said. “So if you’re not with them are you, you don’t look like building security? A cop?”

Kiyo shook their head, they weren’t sure if they could tell her what they really were just yet. Mainly because it wasn’t that much different from what the guys currently murdering a bunch of her co-workers were. “We can talk about that later. I’m not the police either, but they’re coming so we should get out before they come in and we get caught in the crossfire.”

“Fair point.”

Himiko followed behind on the way down the steps and both listened to the shots still ringing out. Some were coming from inside the building but it sounded like the police had rolled up on the front side and were now trading fire in between pleas on their radio to stop the attack.

The streets were going to be blocked off for a pretty wide area, and it had already started. So the two weaved through a back alleyway a few blocks back and found a car left unattended by one of the gang squads.

“I’ll hotwire this, get in.” Kiyo placed a hand on the door and scanned the lock requirements and transformed a finger into just the right shape of key to unlock it. She was sighing in relief, tired of running or being on edge already. Even though it couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes since the start of the raid it felt like every moment stretched on for hours.

Kiyo tapped the driver's side glass to run a check and found it to be bulletproof. They weren’t sure if the passenger’s side was equally protected, but the front pane definitely was knowing how important getaway driver’s were considered.

The car started up and Kiyo shot out of the alley fast enough to send a can of trash flying up, and swerved out onto the road. The blockade wasn’t out this far yet, there was probably a shortage of them on the force again. This even had a police scanner in it, to track them. With just a little bit of a tweak it could also send signals out. They considered for a moment if it was worth it. They didn’t think any good would come of anyone following potentially.

So instead they start using their cyborg arm to start fiddling and turn off tracking and both the dash cam on the front and any bio-scanners inside that would prove they had commandeered this vehicle. It was breaking several laws, yes, but it was saving a life. Nothing they weren’t already used to.

Another car sped up to get right behind them. It was the same kind of model, so definitely one of the attackers. Possibly saw the theft or came when it stopped giving a signal. Either way they were now being followed. And when one followed there was likely going to be more. Either by the police who may think they were involved or by crooks mad their car was taken.

They passed the gun to her. “Here, use this should it come to that.”

Traffic picked up further away from the scene they got so it was harder to weave through quick enough until they hit the freeway. Too many witnesses were made to even properly count. And the brief slow down allowed the other vehicle to graze their side, causing Kiyo to need to swerve and almost over-correct around the next corner.

Their company got even and then picked up speed to pull a little bit ahead, the back window rolled down like their passenger side. A man inside was shouting and going for a weapon on his belt, his words drowned out by the speed of air caused by the race, and he wouldn’t get to finish because Himiko fired twice, sending him backwards into his seat and out of sight.

Kiyo sped up again, hearing a cacophony of honks from civilian vehicles upset at being forced to pull to the shoulder. The enemy driver steadied and muttered a prayer before grinding against the passenger side and attempted his own shot only for the third bullet from Himiko embed itself into the arm he was aiming with, causing it to miss and puncture the ceiling of the stolen vehicle.

Himiko’s adrenaline was pumping. Someone was already dead or going to be soon at her hands. Even if it was defensive, the very thought terrified her.

And yet the driver didn’t give up. He grabbed it with his other hand and drove with the forearm of his injured side to go and ram them again. This time another car got between them as Kiyo veered to create distance and avoid rear-ending the unfortunate motorist.

“Listen, please fire again the next time you see him.” Kiyo asked.

She was shaking, and nodded. There wasn’t much to say. It was what had to be done.

The back seat was hit several times, even shattering the windows, before Himiko had a good shot a throwing knife whizzed into her and the sharp edge cut one of her hands. And her return volley hit the door of the driver, who was reloading. In just a few more seconds he would have bullets with her name on them. That knife was to buy him time.

So she used the last shot, shaking off the pain momentarily, and due to how he was hunched over the bullet entered his jaw and he crashed into the wall as he spasmed and convulsed.

Leaving only their car speeding away… for now.

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

Surprisingly, nobody else came. A trip to the outer limits of the city got them away. Kiyo parked in a back alley lot and immediately went and cracked open the trunk. As expected, there were more weapons and some medical supplies for those who were hurt on the job.

She sat down on a milk crate, wincing. “God, this hurts so bad.” She held her opposite hand around her cut to prevent herself from bleeding everywhere as Kiyo brought over the med kit. Blood from her wound was already covering her skirt and leggings.

“That was a close call, I’m glad you’re a surprisingly good shot.” Kiyo said, taking some time to clean and disinfect her first.

“Surprisingly? What’s that supposed to mean?” she huffed at the tall stranger. People were always thinking she was some pushover because she was short and looked young.

Kiyo let the blood soak some before checking how deep the wound was. Thankfully, it wasn’t anything too serious. Wrapping it in some gauze did the trick.

“I don’t mean to offend, but I’ve not seen you fire anything before. How was I supposed to know at that moment?”

“I…” Himiko sighed “I guess you’re right. Thanks by the way. You saved my life.”

“We’re… not entirely out of the clear just yet.” Kiyo said as they got up and dumped the license plate into the alley’s dumpster, quickly covering it with more trash that was littered about, they’d stolen it from the car. It was a bit old fashioned but it would be another piece of evidence that could connect the car to the scene they’d just escaped. Any conclusive proof the gang or cops could find should be destroyed.

“When will we be in the clear?” the girl asked,

She watched her new companion pouring oil from a drum onto the vehicle. And motion her to get back. She took the pack with the rest of the useful medical supplies and Kiyo removed the case of weaponry and looked it over.

“Only when we get to my place. You should probably stay a few days so the hunt dies down… maybe I could put you with a friend in the same-”

“I’m sure your friends are good and all but… I don’t know them yet, I want to stay with you if I gotta pick.”

Kiyo nodded in understanding. “Well then, we’re about.” The tall one did some mental math, checking in quickly with the chip in their head that sped that process up. “35 miles northeast of the complex I live in.”

“And your ride is on the way?”

Kiyo nodded in the affirmative “Indeed. It won’t be very much longer now in fact. It’ll be a couple more blocks up so we’re out of the way when… this goes off.” Then they flicked a match onto the end of the line of oil and rushed with her away.

The way back to the apartment was tense and paranoid. Kiyo put on the online radio to keep track of the news about the situation, switching stations occasionally if they switched coverage to something else or there was nothing new. Chatter online indicated about half the building’s occupants went down with at least injuries. The exact death toll wouldn’t be out until everything had been secured.

“Should I call and tell people I’m okay? I… don’t exactly want to show up as missing on the national news.” Himiko said, shifting nervously in her chair.

“Yes, you can tell someone you trust.” It would look bad if they let their paranoia convince them not to allow her to. Seeming like a kidnapper would just bring unwanted attention. Their associates would be mad and sister told them she didn’t exactly want to spend her time sticking around to just be spent behind bars.

One press and it went to her contact. “I’m okay, I got out. I’ll be in hiding for now. I’m with another friend.” She had to keep it short on the low battery, unfortunately. Even with being weary of this person still, she thought better of revealing anything more.

She hung up with a farewell after a few more seconds and turned it back off, complaining to the only other who was around to listen. “Of all the days for me to leave the charger at home. Angie even reminded me not to do that.”

“Angie? That’s not a name you hear much in Japan.”

“It’s not, she’s actually from one of those islands out in the pacific. Used to be an American colony before well…”

Kiyo nodded. The United States of America had long since broken up due in part to the corporate wars and there really wasn’t any recognized entity that was still calling itself that. So all the non-mainland territories broke away. Many still are under the boot of large companies whether they were locally built or arrived from overseas since the islands were so rich in natural resources that couldn’t be found in many other places.

The conversation branched out from there, keeping both of their minds occupied with something other than the dread of having even more of those guys after them.

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

During the apartment tour Kiyo showed Himiko around. The kitchenette, which was stocked with microwave instant noodles and burritos, featured a ton of soda and alcohol in the small fridge. All of it was cheap and/or synthetic stuff, clearly Shinguji wasn’t someone living in the lap of luxury.

Then there was the main room. It was in the center, the kitchenette was a small area to the left side. It had tile instead of carpet denoting the otherwise almost nonexistent boundary. There were very few doors: one leading outward to the balcony, one leading to the lone bedroom, and a third leading to the lone bathroom.

“Would you like to sleep out here? It’s generally pretty safe…”

“You look like you’re about to hit me with a huge ‘but’”

“Last month someone tried to break in. They were high off something and thought this was their unit. And rumor has it someone’s found ways to pick locks around here. Mine are up to date enough but you know how it is with malware.”

“Then I’ll sleep uh, in your room. If that’s okay.”

Kiyo agreed, showing her the large bed. It could easily fit both of them even though the majority of the time nobody but Kiyo was using it. There was a wardrobe and a work desk. The work desk held all of their weapons and tech. Many tools were used to keep everything working.

“And yes before you ask, I am too poor to afford all of this. A lot of it is stolen.” Kiyo explained. “Often from people who met an unfortunate fate like our attackers earlier.” Kiyo added the new goods to the collection by putting it on top of the desk.

Thankfully the blinds were always shut on this room. Kiyo had boarded it up and sealed the heat in that way because every so often in places as rundown as this you’d get a window shot out for no real reason other than some assholes felt like it.

A few hours later they had crawled in and tried to rest. At some point somebody must have wanted more warmth because upon waking up the next morning Kiyo noticed they were now huddling together, arms around the other. It would be a delicate thing to get out of the embrace without waking her up too.

They hesitated. They didn’t have any urgent jobs at this hour, all of those were planned specifically to be later. So was it really wrong to stay put and just see how she’s doing? It was a rough day yesterday after all.

Even with the window boarded up small cracks of light fluttered through. A small reminder the outside still had beauty in it.

Himiko woke up moments later, finding herself curled up to Kiyo and realizing she’d been the one to start being so close. An impulsive thought she wasn’t awake enough to second guess herself. It was odd, how they seemed to be more awake but didn’t leave her.

They sat up and said “Good morning. Sleep well?”

She followed suit and rubbed the gunk out of her eyes. “Yeah. I… hope waking up like that didn’t bother you. I-”

“It doesn’t”

She was ready to profusely apologize so hearing that took a moment to process. “Huh?”

“It was quite nice. It’s been a while since I’ve felt anything as warm as that.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Should I be?”

“Well… no, and I kinda liked it too.” she said shyly, turning to sit down on the edge of the bed, putting some distance between them. “You doing anything today?”

Kiyo consulted their chip again. “No work today, we’ll be hanging out with some people from my crew this afternoon.”

“I look forward to it. I needed a bit of a vacation its just…” she sighed.

“How it happened wasn’t desirable?”

Himiko laughed. “That’s an understatement. It actually sucks so much.” crying broke through and took over. It took almost half a day for what happened to even really sink in. “Everything sucks so fucking much.”

Kiyo offered some tissue from the bedside drawer and Himiko took it, thanking them.

#himikiyo #himikiyo week #himiko yumeno #korekiyo shinguji #writing #fanfic #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #cyberpunk

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phantomphangphucker · 4 years ago

Text

Ectober Day 26: Aim - Would You Like Some Bullets With That, Sir?

Vlad would absolutely have a few people who want him extra dead and maybe one or two actually willing to try. Too bad that doesn’t really work when the guy’s already half-dead. In fact, it does pretty well nothing other than provide mild amusement. Danny gets more of a kick out of it than the billionaire does though.

Danny and Vlad were having a decent walk and talk, a decent bonding experience. Surprising, he knows. But one of the key words there was ‘were’, because of course him and Vlad can’t be getting along without pissing off the universe.

Danny had been pointing the straw of his green tea matcha Frappuccino, with more than a couple espresso shots mixed in, at Vlad; trying to explain the nuances of food-related puns, because if he’s going to influence one thing it’s going to be Vlad’s tendency to use foods as swears. Vlad wasn’t exactly being receptive but hey, neither was Danny on the whole ‘etiquette’ lessons the man was trying to give him. But all that got interrupted when a big ass stereotypical white van pulled up with a screech and the doors slide open to a dude with a fucking machine gun. Well fine, handheld Gatling gun is more accurate but sounds a little less cool; besides it’s still technically a machine gun. Which is, in Danny’s opinion, massive fucking overkill. Vlad would be inclined to agree.

Needless to say, they get shot. A lot. Repeatedly. It’s very loud.

All the bystanders around physically pause, stunned a bit stupid that this was happening in Amity of all places not to mention rather desensitised to violence; regardless everyone starts booking it because, y’ know, big ass gun. Vlad actually crouches and moves to cover his head while flashing angry red eyes, he’s dealt with a fair few assassination attempts but in broad daylight? Really? He’ll give them a few points for having the guts. Danny meanwhile, is way too used to getting shot at to even react beyond just standing there at first, before glancing at his cup -which is draining all its contents through the holes onto the road- and grumbling a bit. The gun man stops when Danny bends over and starts laughing though. Even Vlad gives Danny some concerned looks as Danny waves the gun guy off with one hand on his knees, “sorry! It’s- it’s just! Just that! No ones ever-ever shot me! Shot me with a real- real gun!”. Danny sits on the ground and continues laughing while effectively bleeding out of multiple holes as flesh starts moving to slowly repair itself; which clearly the men have noticed and are scared shitless by, as both he and Vlad can feel, see, and smell the fear coming off the truck.

Vlad huffs, stands himself upright and goes about brushing off and inspecting his suit. Huffing again and turning to the van, crossing his arms, “I do believe you owe me a new suit, young man”. Someone inside the vehicle chokes. Danny thinks that’s a pretty reasonable reaction here. But there’s literally zero fucking point of them acting human here, because fuck they were both riddled with bullet holes and their blood was very literally splattered around the ground. Might as well scare these assholes a little.

Hence why Danny sticks a finger in one of the larger holes due to multiple bullets going through the same general area and giggles, “huh, that tickles”, and grins meanly at the driver who looks absolutely disturbed and too far into shock to try driving away yet. Though thinking of it, Vlad might actually try to kill them; tit for tat was absolutely Vlad’s primary go-to in any situation. Hence their arguably insanely prank wars. So Danny stands up and promptly launches himself inside the vehicle, knocking over the man with the bloody machine gun -seriously, how is that not overkill- and landing with his feet on the guys chest. Danny’s pretty sure the guy wet himself. Which, ew, but understandable.

“Okay I’m feeling nice because this is absurdly hilarious and would qualify as some ridiculous ass overkill for normal folks. Kinda pointless against immortals though, dontcha think?”, turning his head to look at Vlad -who’s quirking a single well-groomed eyebrow while his eye goes about repairing itself- through the door, “what do ya think?”.

Vlad walks over calmly and humming, “well I’ll give them points for accuracy, they hardly damaged the surroundings at all. Which I find I can appreciated since that avoids me having to make yet another dip into the damages funds. And I’ll be generous and give another point for dramatics; board daylight, middle of the city, biggest high-powered rapid-fire weapon anyone’s ever aimed at me, the sudden loud noise. Why I’m almost impressed. But I do find the overall end result to be rather lacking”. Vlad kicks one of the front tires hard enough to puncture it while the driver starts scrambling and fumbling to attempt at driving off. The psssssh sound the tire makes actively increases the smell of fear filling the van. Understandable, these guys had effectively just lost their getaway vehicle.

Danny chuckles, “aww, looks like someone’s not going anywhere anytime fast”, Danny grins meanly and flashes his green eyes. The guy passes out. “Ah damn, he passed out”, shrugging, “eh, hopefully he’ll think this was just some bad dream”.

Vlad hums as he climbs in, ecto-beaming another guy in the head to knock him out. Huh, guess Vlad’s really truly genuinely chilled out some in the evil villain department. “Yes that would be preferred, Daniel. I take it Phantom will be delivering these men to the jailhouse after having shielded the mayor and a young boy at the last second”.

Danny snorts as he gets off the gunman and kicks the driver in the head; the guys head bouncing off the steering wheel and obviously knocking him the Hell out. “Obviously. And hey, why not say Phantom healed any injuries to boot. Not like anyone’s sure about the power set of that spooky bastard”, and smirks. Talking about himself like a different person was arguably not necessary right now, no one was around after all, but hey it was kinda funny.

Vlad nods, riffles through the mens’ pockets and pockets all their cash. Which Danny rolls his eyes at, “old bank robber habits die hard?”. Vlad rolls his eyes, “hardly. This is simply to repay me for the damages. This was a nice suit I’ll have you know”. Which Danny rolls his eyes right back at him over while Vlad hops out of the vehicle, looks around, readjusts the remaining scraps of his suit, and saunters off; grabbing a surprisingly intact handkerchief from a definitely not intact pocket and starts dabbing blood off his face, hair, and hands. Danny’s not going to question why the man doesn’t just phase it off or reabsorb it into his body again.

Danny closes the vehicle doors purely to attempt at not transforming directly in open view in the middle of the street. Grabbing up the three guys before pausing and deciding eh why not and telekinetically floating the freaking machine gun onto his back and making that invisible. Flying off through the vehicle's roof.

Danny unceremoniously drops the men on the jailhouse floor, “gotcha a present. They tried to unload, like, a bazillion bullets into the dear ol’ mayor”.

Officer Jay sighs, “we were getting some calls about a shooting? But with regular guns”, motioning a few other cops to drag the guys away.

Danny chuckles and nods, “try machine gun”, the cop almost chokes while Danny continues, “not that that is particularly effective on intangibility”.

The cop looks him over, obviously noticing the healing bullet wounds here and there. Healing however many bullet holes takes time you know! “Obviously you weren’t quite fast enough”.

Danny shrugs, “eh, blowing a bunch of holes in a ghost doesn’t really do much other than make a mess. Mayors cool though”.

“That’s... good”, Jay shakes his head, “well, we’ll take care of these guys and I doubt they legally had a machine gun. You didn’t just leave that out in the street did you?”. Danny waves the guy off nonchalantly, “Fenton was there too, took it as his plundered booty”, he makes a point to make that last bit sound pirate-like. The cop sighs and rubs his temples, “so there’s a seventeen-year-old running around with a machine gun”.

“Yup”, absolutely popping the ‘p’.

Danny easily hears the guy mutter, “somedays I would really like to quit”, before looking back to him, “well that family has every weapon license known to man, so I’m not even going to bother. Have a good day and a fulfilling afterlife”. Danny salutes with a cheeky grin before phasing up through the roof.

Sam and Tucker don’t so much as blink from Danny suddenly appearing from around a corner and barging in-between the two of them, “hey guys, some guys left me a little present”

Both give a mildly interested and slightly worried, “oh?”. Which is fair, Danny has described getting a taser stuck in his leg as ‘a present’ before.

He grins a bit psychotically, makes the gun visible, and whips it around to be holding it in his hands, “a machine gun!”.

Sam slows her pace slightly, just enough to no longer have a freaking mini-gun pointed at her stomach, “that’s nice Danny”. While Tucker looks much more excited, “Holy frick that’s awesome. Where’d that come from though?”.

Sam sighs, “or more specifically how and why. Ghosts don’t exactly use human weapons and ‘some guys’ is vague as shit”.

Danny chuckles, because that who ordeal was still stupid funny. “Curtsy of one poorly informed assignation attempt in dear ol’ uncie Vlad”.

Tucker blinks, “wait, someone actually tried to assassinate him”, then pauses, “wait no, of course someone tried to assassinate Vlad. He’s Vlad”. Making all three chuckle while Danny fiddles with the massive ass barrel.

All three grin viciously when they spot Dash and co. across the street. Danny deciding to yell, “hey Dash!”, and easily tilting the machine gun up due to, y’ know, super strength, and fires off a bunch of bullets into the air; extending his intangibility to the bullets of course so that they don’t actually hit anything and forming some ectoplasm ‘round his friends' ears so he doesn’t, like, blow out their eardrums or some shit.

Dash stares at him a little bug-eyed before scowling, sticking his arms out to the side, and shouting back, “I haven’t bullied you in a year! Why you still giving me vague ass death threats!”.

Danny cackles, aims the gun to shoot the sign over the assholes head, and riddles it with bullets, “it’s payback bitch!”. Sure Danny would never have done that if he wasn’t absolutely certain his aim was so fucking flawless that there was zero chance of him hitting anything other than what exactly he wanted to. And sure, maybe he swirled some invisible ectoplasm around the bullet trajectory too but no one needs to know that. Dash predictably staggers back, flips him off, and books it down the road.

Danny lowers the gun with a chuckle, “that was fun. So worth getting shot a few times”. Sam blinks at him and looks more than a little not impressed, “you actually got shot, Danny”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “what, in any world, would make you think I didn’t get shot”. Sam just huffs, obviously having no argument for that. Because yeah, Danny always got shot or stabbed or electrocuted or set on fire or a lot of other things.

Tucker shakes his head, “and yet you look totally fine”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “Tuck, what can a regular ol’ bullet do to me”. That gets both his friends to blink and give him disbelieving, “wait, they weren’t even ecto-bullets”. Tucker shaking his head with a laugh at Danny’s nod, “wow, whoever really did, like, zero research”.

“I know right. We scared them real good though”.

Tucker laughs a bit more, “never before have I actually wished to be at a shooting”, shrugging, “first for everything”.

“Amen to that”, Danny emphasises that statement by smacking the gun.

End.

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imaginetonyandbucky · 4 years ago

Text

The Buy In

Chapter 3: Puzzle Wrapped in an Enigma

by @dracusfyre

On the way back home after the brothel closed, Bucky logged into Discord and dropped into a channel labeled only with random numbers and letters. First day of work was :thumbs up: but there were two dudebros who tried to jam up my shit. Wish they would back off, he wrote. The channel was monitored 24/7 in case of emergency or actionable intel.

He waited as the dots danced, then his police handler wrote, that sucks. who are they?

Bucky typed the last four of Rumlow and Rollins’ badge numbers and put his phone back in his pocket. This operation was way more important than those two swinging dicks; between the video from tonight, which was going to be a PR nightmare for the department, and his request, Rumlow and Rollins better be manning a desk for the foreseeable future.

He was pulling out his keys to his apartment building when he heard a car door opening nearby. His head whipped around and his other hand was already on the pistol in the holster at the small of his back when he heard, “Whoa there Blue Eyes,” in a familiar voice. The figure that stepped out of the car held his hands up and stepped into the light. “Hard day at the office?”

“I’ve had worse,” Bucky said warily.

“How’d everything go today?” Stark shoved his hands in his pocket and leaned against his car, the streetlight casting harsh shadows on his face.

“Fine. Didn’t KT give you a debrief?”

“Yeah, I heard his side. I wanna hear your side.”

Bucky thought about it, wondering if he should put a shine on it or be honest. “KT and Hawkeye’s play tonight was clever and would have worked perfectly against a different set of cops. But I think those two won’t give up until they get back at the person who embarrassed them. Might have made more problems than they solved.”

“Yeah?” Stark tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. “You sure about that? KT's been on the job for a few years now and thought it was a good call. It's your first day and you saw the cops for all of fifteen minutes.”

Bucky shrugged. “I’ve met guys like them before. Don't strike me as the type to know when they're beat. Best thing would be for them to be encouraged to take a long walk off a short pier.”

Stark made a thoughtful noise. “But KT explained office policy on that?”

“Yeah. Only as a last resort.” Bucky tried to sound neutral, but something of his skepticism must have bled through.

“You don’t agree?”

The note in Stark’s voice put Bucky on high alert. Higher alert, since his heart was still racing from before. “I get the logic, it’s just…different,” Bucky said. “Makes sense though. Bodies attract attention.”

“Is that the only reason you think it's a good policy?” Stark asked neutrally.

Bucky hesitated. He got the feeling there was a right and wrong answer to this and wished this conversation had happened six hours ago when he was less tired. “Killing people changes things,” he said finally - honestly - hoping he wasn’t about to touchy-feely himself out of this operation. Between the military, the police, and then undercover work with organized crime, he had been so steeped in machismo that it had become second nature – to those guys, life was one big dick measuring contest - but Stark didn’t seem to work like that. Or at least, he didn't want people to think he worked like that. “Not just changes people, but like…it sends a message to everyone else. ‘This is what a life is worth.’” Bucky took a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing himself to maintain eye contact with Stark. “People respond to that. Makes them…mean. Hard. So if you can avoid that...” He ran a hand over the back of his neck, feeling like an idiot. He probably sounded ridiculous. “So, yeah. Anyway. Guess if it ain’t broke don’t fix it, right? Seems to be working for you.”

“We do alright,” Stark said slowly, and Bucky figured he must have said the right thing because he straightened and held out a hand for Bucky to shake. Bucky looked at it with surprise and took it, feeling acutely aware of the strength of Stark’s grip and the callouses on his palms. “Welcome aboard.”

***

Tony got back in his car as Blue Eyes continued into his building, cranking it and pulling away from the curb on autopilot. If Blue Eyes hadn’t been a cop, Tony would have told himself that he was too good to be true; as it was, Tony wondered if it was possible that the police or feds or whoever had profiled him well enough to give “Brooks” a gold plated script to work from. But it hadn’t felt like the new guy was playing him tonight; his comments had been too rambling and inarticulate to have been prepared in advance. Rhodey was going to think he was an idiot, but he really though Brooks was being honest with him tonight, which had the potential to change things.

At the first stoplight, he pulled out his phone and texted Rhodey.

I like him.

Rhodey sent a rolling eyes emoji almost immediately. Blue Eyes?

Yeah I want to keep him. he’s wasted as a cop.

The three dots must have started and stopped a dozen times; Tony was almost back to his own place when he finally got a response. You’re playing with fire.

Tony smirked. I know, he wrote back. It’s what I do.

Yeah, but this time, if you get burnt, we all do. Tony pulled into his private garage and turned off the car, listening to the engine tick as it cooled. Rhodey was right. As much as he was intrigued by Blue Eyes, he couldn’t put his people at risk by tugging on that thread. “Dammit,” he said out loud, scowling as he got out of the car. “Ten years ago I wouldn't have thought twice.”

***

A few weeks into the operation Bucky and KT were making the rounds, checking in with the businesses and people on their beat, and Bucky was suddenly struck by two things: one, just how much this gig felt like being a street cop, walking the sidewalks just observing the neighborhood; and two, how no one was ever this happy to see him when he was a street cop. People saw KT and more often than not, they were smiling, chatty about business and local gossip. Most of them greeted Bucky (“Oh, this must be Blue Eyes,” which had yet to stop making Bucky’s ears burn) and were happy to introduce themselves. The ones that weren’t smiling were the ones that had something to complain about: permit not going through, shipment delayed, broken equipment that insurance wasn’t paying out for. KT took notes, nodded and commiserated, and when they left almost everyone looked at least mollified, if not cheered.

“You know, for us playing the bag men today, we sure aren’t picking up any money,” Bucky commented. A couple of times KT had taken a store owner to the side and Bucky, straining his ears, heard something about loans; these people always had the look of someone explaining why they couldn’t pay but it wasn’t their fault, honest. Like everything else, KT made notes and listened politely.

“That’s not what we’re doing,” KT said. “This is check in. We do it every two weeks or so. Money stuff is all handled online.”

“Yeah?” Bucky knew for a fact that the FBI had been working with the Treasury to trace Stark’s money, and, failing to find any signs of dirty money or money laundering, had concluded he must be operating with cash only.

“Yeah. Boss didn’t want to tempt anyone or make them a target.” That was smart, Bucky reflected. Ripping off other gangs was an art form in organized crime. Still, he had to wonder how Stark kept the money transfers so well hidden from the best financial analysts in the US government.

“No targets except his accountant,” Bucky joked, fishing for info. “Like with Al Capone.”

KT just shrugged at that, like he didn’t know and didn’t care, so Bucky left it alone. “So what do we do with that stuff?” Bucky said, gesturing at the notebook KT had been writing in all morning.

“We take care of it.” He took the notebook out and flipped through it. “Not too much stuff this time.”

Bucky turned that over in his head. “So under the Mechanic, fixers actually…fix things,” he said. “You’re really going to call a shipping company and an insurance office and everything?”

“Yep. Well, we are.”

Made sense; if businesses were paying Stark for protection, he could also throw in other services to sweeten the pot and keep people from rolling on him. Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets and was lost in thought while he mostly followed KT around the neighborhood. Granted he’d only been here for less than a week, but so far nothing was adding up to what he’d read in the case files on Stark and his organization. It was making him uneasy. He’d come here with a picture in his head, and a goal of filling in the holes so they could make a case against an organized crime boss; but now he was increasingly realizing that something was wrong with the picture. So when KT told him one night that they had the next two days off, Bucky sent another message on the Discord channel and when he got a confirmation, he went to the New York Library, the big one with the stone lions and millions of tourists. He went to the adult services desk and asked for a laptop. The librarian studied his ID, went to a safe, and handed him a laptop from inside. Bucky found a study carrell in a quiet spot and logged on with an 8 character name and 16 character password, established and memorized before he’d started this operation, and opened up the case files on Stark.

Scrolling through, Bucky felt some of his disquiet ease as he re-read the laundry list of crimes Stark was reportedly involved in: racketeering, tax fraud, illegal gambling, high-end car theft. Armed obberies; he opened up the file on robberies and realized with morbid amusement that even while Stark protected his own people from being targeted, he had no problem targeting bagmen from other gangs, making off with hundreds of thousands of dollars at a time. Tax fraud, obviously; if Tony was hiding all of his income from the FBI, he was definitely hiding it from the IRS. Though as he opened up Stark’s tax statements, gotten from a subpoena to the IRS, and noticed that the document for just one year was hundreds of pages long, Bucky reflected that a good accountant could hide a lot of money in his legitimate businesses and all the assets that Stark had inherited from his parents.

At the back of the file was sex trafficking, which was based on a handful of reports that said that prostitutes were disappearing from other parts of the city and showing up working for Stark. Bucky put a note next to that one recommending the line of investigation be dropped. After spending hours and hours at the brothel chatting to the Widow and the ladies there, waiting to see if Rumlow returned, he knew none of the men or women there were being forced to stay, not even for lack of other work. Widow recruited from all around the city, helping people get out of the business if they wanted to and offering others a chance to work for her. Turns out, most of that building was devoted to the people who worked in the brothel: everyone got their own apartment, which was separate from the suites they entertained clients, and there was an in-house doctor and even childcare in the basement. All the money went straight back to the sex workers, except for this mysterious buy-in that no one had explained yet, and they were using it for a bewildering array of side projects that the women were more than happy to talk about during their down time.

After a few hours, which included writing up his reports from the past few weeks of working for Stark, Bucky sat back and closed the laptop. It was his first month, he reminded himself. No one was going to let him close to the real work of the organization after just a few weeks. He sent another message to his handler on Discord, and when he got a confirmation back, he stood up and walked away from the carrell; when he was about twenty feet away, he saw his police contact, dressed like a soccer mom, come by and spirit the laptop away.

His next stop was the gym; by the time he was done, shirt soaked wet with sweat and muscles aching, his head felt clearer. He didn’t know why Stark was trying so hard to seem like a good guy, but if Bucky was patient enough he’d scrape past all the pseudo-philanthropy and get to the real man underneath. Stark wasn’t the first guy to be handsome and charming and charismatic while hiding a dark side.

#tony stark #bucky barnes #tony x bucky #winteriron #no powers au

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skygirl5 · 4 years ago

Text

12 Prompts of Christmas - #10 Santa

TEN - Santa

Standing on the New York City sidewalks wearing jeans and an oversized red Santa coat, Richard Castle gathered together the group of pre-teens trailing behind him and lined them up against the side of the building to address them. They were all festively dressed in some way: one girl had a headband that also mimicked elf ears, another had a hair clip fashioned out of a Christmas wrap bow, and a third wore a festive sweater beneath her purple coat. Rick’s own child was fully decked out with a green ribbon in her hair, Christmas tree shaped earrings, and bells tied onto her shoes with red ribbons.

Smiling down at them, he asked, “Okay ladies, are we ready?”

“Yeah!” they chorused back to him.

“Great. Then we’re all ready to go but remember: stay close to me while we’re inside. You wouldn’t want someone to accidentally think you’re a police officer,” he told them with a dramatic wink.

“Dad,” his daughter, Alexis, groaned.

Rick held up a finger signaling for her to hold on a moment. Then, he donned his red Santa hat and from his pocket he pulled out a white fake beard which he hooked on using loops that went over his ears. Once it was in place, he reminded her, “Not Dad—Santa.”

Now fully outfitted, Rick led the parade of kids into the police station, proud he was getting to spend his afternoon not only helping the hard-working members of the NYPD, but also teaching impressionable young girls an important lesson about giving back and being kind.

Inside the police station Rick walked up to the welcome desk and pleasantly said, “Good afternoon.”

The cop at the desk eyed him a bit suspiciously and asked, “Can I help you, sir?”

“Yes, I called ahead. Richard Castle. The elves and I are here to deliver Christmas cards to the brave officers of the NYPD,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing towards the four girls clustered around him, who each held a shopping bag filled with goodies.

Now smiling, the female officer nodded and reached for the telephone on her desk. “Ah, right. Hold on, I’ll call an escort for you.”

“Thank you very much.”

The group waited patiently for about five minutes before a woman dressed in a black business suit approached them and asked, “Hi, I’m Denise from PR; are you from Spenser Academy?”

“That’s us!” one of the girls exclaimed.

The woman smiled at her, then addressed the group as a whole, “Well on behalf of the NYPD I’d like to thank you for your generous gifts. What have you brought us today?”

“We have about three dozen holiday cards and some handmade ornaments and decorations to hang up if that’s okay,” Rick said to Denise.

“Absolutely! We appreciate everything you’re willing to give to us. Let’s go to the third floor, okay? they haven’t had any Christmas visitors yet.”

“Have you had many other schools visit this year?” Rick asked as they shuffled their way towards the elevator. He knew there were several other groups from Alexis’s grade as well as the one above hers participating in the holiday cheer project, though some were donating décor and cards to fire stations and hospitals as well as the NYPD. He also believed other private schools in the city were participating in similar projects.

“Just one other one here so far, but I’ve had several others at other precincts.”

“That’s nice. It’s such an important time of year to give back.”

“I agree. You’re a teacher at the school?”

Rick checked and put his hand on Alexis’s shoulder. “No, no—parent volunteer. This is my daughter, Alexis.”

“Hi,” the young redhead said demurely.

Denise smiled down at her. “Hello. Well, we do appreciate your time.”

Rick nodded in appreciation. He had always enjoyed volunteering at Alexis’s school and never really thought of it as a chore or even an obligation. As someone who loved children, he found it a joy. Plus, as his career enabled him to be both a full-time writer and a full-time stay-at-home Dad, he always felt a duty to volunteer for what he could because he knew that many of Alexis’s classmates had two working parents, and it was not always possible for them to chaperone field trips or organize bake sales like he could.

When the elevator’s doors opened again and Denise led the way out into the hall, Rick asked her, “What department is this?”

“The homicide division.”

“Ah,” Rick said hesitantly. While he wouldn’t have minded poking around that floor, he wasn’t sure it was entirely appropriate for ten- and eleven-year-old girls. Nevertheless, their visit was not intended to be a long one, so he stepped forward and turned so he could address his group. “Well, okay ladies, here we go. How about…Paige and Hannah hand out the cards while Alexis, Ryder, and I hang up some decorations, okay?”

Their girls swapped their shopping bags around to match up with Rick’s duty assignments and then the two with the holiday cards scampered off. Meanwhile, Denise directed Rick and the remaining two girls to a room centrally located on the floor. “You can hang your decorations here in the break room.”

“Perfect. Thank you,” Rick said to her and led the way inside the room. It was empty save for an officer talking on a cell phone, who walked out the opposite door when they entered. Rick led the girls over to one of the tables in the room and they opened up their shopping bags and began to unload the decorations. From the bag he carried, Rick pulled out a few rolls of tape. He handed one to Ryder and told her to hang up the snowflake decorations they had on the break room windows. Then, he turned to his daughter and asked, “Do you want to hang up the snowmen?”

She nodded. “Yeah, let’s put some on the cabinets,” she said, pointing towards the kitchenette in the room which had a sink along with a counter that had a coffee maker, toaster oven, and microwave. Off to the side was a refrigerator, all of which was surrounded by cabinets.

“Sounds good.”

Alexis put a snowman centrally located on each of the doors to the bottom row of cabinets. Then Rick brought a chair over from one of the tables so she could climb up on it and reach the upper cabinets. She was still too short, though, so he had to help hang the last row of snowmen.

He was about halfway done when he heard the breakroom door swing open and a female’s voice say, “Oh! I didn’t realize anyone else was in here.”

“Yep, sorry; we’ll be done in a minute,” Rick said as he struggled to get the sticky tape out of the dispenser.

“We’re decorating!” Alexis said.

“I can see that,” said the female voice.

With the last snowman tacked into place, Rick stepped back, helped his daughter off the chair, then quickly grabbed it so it was not in the way if the woman wanted to access the kitchenette counter. “Sorry about that,” he said again, only glancing briefly in her direction, “Alexis, what else do you want to hang up?”

“Let’s put the stars on the refrigerator,” she suggested.

Rick hesitated and glanced over his shoulder to see what the woman was doing. When he saw her at the coffee pot, he agreed with, “Okay, but let’s make sure not to stand in this nice lady’s way.”

“Oh, it’s fine; I don’t need to get into the fridge,” she assured them. With her mug now full of coffee, she turned to face them and Rick finally met her eye. Immediately, he felt like he’d been smacked in the chest. Her face…he knew her face, but from where?

“Are you a police officer?” Alexis asked the woman as she hung up the stars.

“A detective, actually.”

“Ohh!! I’m in fifth grade, but I might want to be a detective when I grow up—a private detective, just like Sherlock Holms!”

“Oh wow, that’s neat!” the detective said.

“Santa, I finished hanging the snowflakes. Santa? Santa!”

“Wha—oh, sorry Ryder,” Rick apologized, when Ryder tugged on the sleeve of his coat. He’d been too busy staring at the female detective wondering where he’d seen her before. “What do you want to hang up next?”

“Um…maybe some of the garland chain along that window ledge?”

“Sure thing.” Rick walked over to the shopping bags and pulled out the long chain of “garland” the girls had made, which consisted of round circles of alternating light and green construction paper all stapled together to form a chain. “Alexis why don’t you come and help Ryder once you’re done with those stars?”

“Okay, Da—Santa!” She grinned at him then ran past him to help her schoolmate.

When Rick turned back around, he was pleasantly surprised to see the female detective was still in the breakroom, eyeing him curiously. “Sorry, ah, this is our first year as a decorating committee; we’re a little rough around the edges.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I think what you’re doing is really nice. Are you…are you also associated with the two girls running around giving away Christmas cards?”

The writer frowned behind his Santa beard. “Oh no are they running? I told them not to run.”

She laughed and said, “It’s fine,” but the words barely registered in his mind because with her laugh came the solid recognition he’d been seeking. Yes, he definitely recognized her, but he could hardly believe it was her—her—the woman he’d encountered so briefly their interaction felt more like a dream.

So caught up by the sudden recognition, Rick failed to realize he’d gasped, “Oh—it’s you!” out loud until her brow wrinkled and she asked, “Excuse me?”

“Sorry, sorry. I mean—you’re Kate, aren’t you?”

Her brow crinkled further. “Do we know each other?”

“Yea—oh, sorry. Crap! Sorry!” he grunted as he tried to strip off his fake beard and hat, which until that moment he had forgotten that he was wearing. No wonder she didn’t recognize him!

With his face fully exposed her confused expression melted into one of surprise. “Oh! Rick. H-hi.”

“Hi,” he echoed, his grin a bit dopey. Once again, he had run into this mysterious, beautiful woman by chance and he could not say he was remotely disappointed about it. Since they’d first met, five Decembers prior, he’d thought about her occasionally over the years, mostly over the holidays, but occasionally during trips out to his beach house since the water combined with the vacation atmosphere connected it and the lake cabin in his mind. He’d never gotten to the point of actually trying to find her, but he’d thought about it several times. Now, it appeared fate was nudging him and he wasn’t going to deny it.

“We’re done!”

His daughter announcing the completion of their task pulled Rick back to the present and he stammered a bit. “Oh, um, ah, yeah—is there anything left to hang up, girls?”

“No,” Alexis said. She gazed around the room and frowned slightly, adding, “I guess we didn’t have that much to decorate with.”

“Oh no—I think it looks much more festive in here,” Kate chimed in.

Rick gave her a grateful expression then turned back to the girls. “Okay, ladies, why don’t you gather up the bags and tape dispensers and then let’s go find the others, okay?”

“Thank you for decorating our break room,” Kate said to them before heading towards the door. Before she could open it, Rick stepped towards her.

“Wait! I mean, um, how are you?”

Looking slightly amused she said, “I’m okay, how are you?”

“Good, good. Um, I was just…well, wondering if I might be able to take you out for coffee and, um, pick your brain a little bit about the NYPD. Always doing research,” he confessed with a little shrug. In reality his heart was racing, and he felt like a teenager again. God, what was he doing? He wasn’t even trying to ask her out on a date as his romantic situation was…complicated…at present.

She arched an eyebrow at him. “If I recall correctly: you already did that.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “But you weren’t a detective then.”

She chuckled lightly and then waited about seven seconds before agreeing, “Okay, sure. Coffee.”

“Great!” Rick said, elated. He fumbled for a moment, trying to get his wallet out of his back pocket when the bulky Santa coat hung down over it, but he managed. Then he handed her a business card and said, “Call me, please? we’ll set something up.”

She took the card with a nod. By that time, the girls had collected their bags and had joined them at the breakroom door, so Kate pushed it open and let them all walk out. As they did so, Alexis wished her a merry Christmas and she reciprocated with, “Merry Christmas to you, too; and thanks again for the decorations.”

“You’re welcome!” Alexis said cheerfully.

After giving Rick a head nod, Kate walked off. He watched her disappear into the crowd of her coworkers until the high-pitched squeal of a ten-year-old girl drew his attention and he knew he needed to get back into chaperone-mode before the girls caused too much more chaos for the homicide floor.

#castle #caskett #castle fanfiction #castleficathonwinter2020 #12PromptsofChristmas #my fic: 12 Prompts of Christmas

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cas-backwards-tie · 4 years ago

Note

could you do “don’t be afraid, trust me” for five hargreeves please?

Warnings: Graphic description of torture, Murder, Suicidal thoughts, Fire, Kidnapping, Little bit of language.

A/N: Thanks for requesting this! It took me a little time to come up with an idea, but I managed! I hope you enjoy.

Somehow you’d gotten caught up in all of this. Of course, what this is exactly, you don’t know. But it’s hard to focus on that at the moment, raw heat itching at the skin of your bound wrists, the slightly frayed waxed ropes irritating your skin. The dark-haired man in front of you scrutinizes every inch of you, helpless in every definition. Yet you're not hopeless, not yet. Hot and heavy tears well up in your eyes, settling at the brim as you struggle to move, still bound to a chair. It's one of the few pieces of furniture they haven’t destroyed yet.

They haven’t started the fire yet, that’d attract too much attention, but the breaking of furniture apparently hasn’t. The man turns on the heels of his boots and grabs the red gas canister off the kitchen counter in front of you. Sloshing gasoline onto everything, his partner is still rummaging in the bathroom. “Aha! Found it. The tub will start filling now.” Next, the sound of running water overshadows the splashing of gasoline pooling up on the wooden floors of your apartment.

“How much longer? We need to end this and get out of here. It’s bad enough she had no intel, surely the board will be onto us if we take any longer. The sooner, the better,” the one who’d been pouring gasoline speaks to the other. The lanky one from the bathroom pops his head out from the doorway to peer at you. After a moment, their conversation defers back to whatever their goal is; all you remember is that they’d been asking questions solely about your father’s work.

He was an environmental scientist originally, though after an event- a bedtime story he used to tell-he shifted his work to primarily focus on meteorology. Closing your eyes, hot wet tears stream down your face and leaving a trail of sting in its wake. It still hurts to think about, it doesn’t even feel real; your father had been murdered in his office two nights ago when he was packing up after working a late shift. A knife to the stomach, multiple stab wounds. He bled to death on the floor, his iliac arteries primarily targeted. The cops had informed you it was a quick death, assured you he died a painless death… however the looks on their faces made their lying obvious.

Distant thumps pull you from your grieving, hope starting to dwindle as you begin to worry your fate, too, is death. As the thumps from the dark-haired man’s boots grow louder, he rounds the corner and appears in your eye line again, this time with a matchbox in hand. “Any last words?” He asks as though he’s a supervillain, some infamous mega-mind with a master craft for this sort of thing; you know he’s not. “Oh right,” he chuckles, eyeing the duct tape covering your mouth. “Looks like we can get started then! Lenny, grab the files. I’ll get the specimens.” Sure, your father had plenty of different artifacts and specimen in his office, but you still have no clue why this is important to anyone, let alone why you’d both be killed over such a thing! Suddenly he whips a match out of the box, striking it across the sandpaper once to no avail, twice, and then- fwip- there’s fire.

Flicking the match in the opposite corner of the room by the couch, it goes up in flames; the gasoline accelerating the process. Quickly making his way into the office you spot the second-lanky-man return with the files from the office. He throws them into the fire one by one, ripping apart the papers, photos attached with people, bodies, big bold letters, and numbers scrawled on top. Experiments. It slightly reminds you of those kids in the newspaper sometimes, the ones with the animated tv show, the ones you see kids in school have comics of and lunchboxes.

The flames grow, the room gets hot faster than you expect, and your wrists are practically screaming, begging for release from their hold as you squirm and try to escape. They don’t care anymore; they know you’re done for, there’s no escaping. Your screams and cries muffle against the duct tape and sweat begins to build on your forehead, the struggle becoming more immediate. Of course, you’d been scared before, but now that death is inching closer by the second, fire covering one wall and inching around the corner of the wall you’re on the end of, well, the adrenaline is racing through you.

It’s the furthest window that goes up in flames first, the window shattering as the men break the glass jars of specimen in the fire. Rocks, plants, DNA samples, all gone. They throw the jars down against the wooden floor and you can do nothing but try to rub your mouth against your shoulder to pry the duct tape off to scream for help. Maybe someone will notice the fire- call for the fire department. They’ll help. Someone has to come. They have to, don’t they? No. No, you know that’s not true. That’s not how real life works, it hadn’t happened for your mom when she died giving birth to you, it hadn’t happened to your dad, and now it won’t happen for you either.

The burst of cool wind from the winter air sends the flames soaring onto the ceiling, causing you to let out a muffled scream. Occasional crackles and pops from the flames cause you to flinch, and you shut your eyes as if that’ll help. Smoke fills the air and leaks out the window, the wretched heavy and fetid stench burns your nose and throat, your eyes watering as you try to cough through the tape, now struggling to breathe. If anything, hopefully, you’ll die from asphyxiation before burning… that’d be a much better way to go.

Your head feels light, your vision starting to blur, and you’re not sure whether that’s from the fumes or the tears or both. Just as you begin to mentally pray to whatever gods, deities, or spirits that live amongst you in hope of a swift and painless death, a blue flash appears. Before your very eyes, there’s a boy in a school uniform, his back turned to you, yet you still recognize the preppy look. “Hey, assholes! What’s the deal?” With the use of surprise, he pushes one of them off-balance and into the fire. The man instantly screams and flails as he rolls around, stands, body covered in flames as he runs around crazily. A putrid odor radiates from his burning flesh and his skin peels, his screams getting louder and louder until they eventually stop and he drops to the floor lifelessly.

“Shit! Come here, you little fuc-!” Another flash of blue and the kid is in the kitchen to your right, the side of the apartment not up in flames. In an instant he’s throwing the knives at the man, suddenly flashing again. Now behind him, he slits his throat, blood spilling down his front like a chocolate fountain.

With widened eyes you stare at the boy, only to whip your head to your left, a muffled scream escaping you as fire darts up the curtains of the window behind you. The window will surely shatter and break in a minute or so. It races across the top of the curtain above your head, ashes, and embers slowly drifting through the air. A tug on your ankles alerts you to the presence of the kid. He uses the bloodied knife to cut the rope that binds your wrists together. Immediately you stand, backing away from the fire, but standing far from him, still trapped inside the burning apartment.

“Come with me,” he commands, your eyes still widened in fear as you don’t trust him. Watching him easily pop through the room and teleport himself is frightening and unreal. It’s not possible, unless… unless you were one of those umbrella kids. That’s why the uniform looked familiar. He senses your fear and jerks his outstretched hand to get your attention. “Don’t be afraid, trust me.” You don’t, but he’s your only option of getting out of here alive. Slipping your hand into his slightly larger one, in a swirl of blue light, you’re instantly in another location.

#five hargreeves x reader #Number Five x Reader #number five x reader angst #five hargreeves x reader angst #tua fic #the umbrella academy fic #my writing #misc. sentences prompt list #request #angst #cw: torture #cw: murder #cw: kidnapping #cw: fire

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toribun · 5 years ago

Text

αγάπη

Words :: 6,6k

Pairing :: idol!/soulmate!Jimin x soulmate!reader

Warnings :: swearing, talk about social anxiety, some bad talk about chimchim, a mention about becoming lesbian, future angst, future smut.

CHAPTER 2

the phone call with your mom was definitely the most stressful phone call you had to take in your life. It was even worse than the time you almost sat the whole apartment on fire when you tried to make your friend eggs and bacon for her birthday breakfast.

She had gotten worried demanding that you gave her your soulmates whole name and the number to Mrs.Kim. You knew you couldn’t give her that though. It would only make matters worse. You loved your mother to death, but she was a bit aggressive when it came to her children. You knew if you gave your mother Mrs.Kims number that she would lash out and probably be sued by the company because of harassment. And you knew she didn’t have enough money saved up to pay for compensation or a good lawyer.

You hadn’t slept much that night. You were too nervous about the meeting with Mrs.Kim and about your neighbor’s reaction to you having visitors. You were supposed to lay low, but everyone in your town knew you never had people over. you were kind of known in town as the young girl that wasn’t capable of making any friends.But most of all you were nervous about how many people Mrs.Kim would bring with her. She said she would bring a full security team. How many people is that? Would they just stand outside your house all day? Because that would definitely bring you an unnecessary amount of attention from your neighbors.

You hadn’t read anything more about Jimin in your letter nor have you searched for any information about him or his company on the internet. You figured that you would be better of going in the blind about him as much as everybody else does when they get matched. You didn’t need to put more pressure on yourself than you already have. You had started to worry about how he took it when he found out that a girl that works as a bartender and barely made enough money to pay her bills was his soulmate. He must have been so embarrassed. Maybe that why Mrs. Kim and a whole fucking security team were on their way to you at this very moment. Maybe their job was to hide you from the media because Jimin didn’t want anyone to find out about his poor and unsuccessful soulmate.

Okay... relax (y/n), no need to make yourself hate the guy before you had even been introduced to him. Just take a chill pill.

When the clock hit ten you heard a knock on your door. A woman, probably in her early thirties was looking at you through your glass door as you walked down the stairs. She had to be Mrs.Kim. Four men all dressed in black was standing on both sides behind her.

When you opened the door, it took approximately five seconds before the lady and all the men had taken off their shoes and made their way into your house. Two of the men dragged your curtains over the glass doors before they turned around with their back to the doors. Then they bowed and said something in a language you didn’t understand.

You didn’t say anything back nor did you bow back. Why did they bow? That’s so weird. Where you suppose to bow back, or would they think you look like a desperate foreigner trying to fit into the group. You figured a smile would be the best thing to do. You tried to give them the friendliest smile you were able to pull off, to try to make a good first impression. You didn’t want them to think of you as rude.

When you turned around to face the rest of the strangers, one of the men was on his way up the stairs. The woman and the last man of the four were just standing in the middle of your living room. They had smiled as soon as you had turned toward them. They bowed to, but the woman not as low as the man.

“Hello (y/n), it’s so good to see you in person instead of just talking over the phone. We apologize for rushing in so fast, we didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Yeah well too late for that Mrs.Kim. You shouldn’t have closed the curtains if you wanted me to relax. Now it just looks like you have a mafia boss on a visit with a plan to torture and kill you. You were almost afraid that one of your neighbors would call the cops on them.

“Ah.. yeah.. umm...hi... I am (y/n), but you probably already know that. I mean you wouldn’t barge in here if you didn’t know who I was”

Mrs.Kim laughs. She had a beautiful smile. Pearl white teeth and a little dimple, only on her left side though. Her eyes almost disappeared completely when she laughed, you could only see a little gap in her eyes where beautiful dark irises poked through. She had to be the most beautiful woman you had ever laid your eyes on. If you hadn’t just gotten your soulmate letter you would consider going lesbian for that masterpiece of a human being.

“No, we certainly wouldn’t. We have all just been a little on edge since we left Korea. Seeing that all your curtains were left completely open for all your neighbors to see just made us a little nervous. It is our job to keep your privacy private from now on after all. And I can promise you that I take my job very seriously as you probably will notice in the next couple of days. I will do my absolute best to protect you (y/n).”

She bowed again, this time a little lower than the first. Then she walked a little closer to you.

“Ah.. so, me and my team haven’t introduced our self’s properly jet. I can start with myself. As you already know I am Mrs.Kim. I have worked for BigHit for almost six years now. I started working as a secretary for a lot of the high profiled people in our company until I got switched over to the security department two years ago. My job for the last two years has been to plan for the arrival of the soulmates of our idols. Now I have been given the position as head of security for you (y/n). I truly look forward to working with you.”

She shakes my hand and smiles again. Then she turned to look at all the men around your house.

“And some of these men are going to be your personal security guards. Not all of them though, we just brought a little extra to ensure that everything runs smoothly for your journey to Seoul. The next couple of weeks is really going to determine who is gonna stay with you permanently. We will see who you get the most comfortable with and them pic two out of that. We also made sure that all of the security personnel assigned to you are capable of speaking English fluently so that we don’t get any problems related to communication.”

Wait... If they are all fluent in English, why the hell did they speak another language to you just a couple of minutes ago then?

“We have Junseo, Seurong, Yucheon, and Hyun. All of them have worked with the company for more than five years. Junseo is actually one of Jimins guards. He has worked with bts since the beginning. Jimin trust him more than any other guard working for us, so he specifically asked for him to join us on our travel to make sure that you were taken extra good care of.”

They had all smiled when Mrs.Kim said their name and said cute little Hello’s and hi’s in return. Junseo’s ears and cheeks got all red when Mrs.Kim had talked so well about him. You could already tell that he was too pure for this world, how is this blushing mess a security guard? You just couldn’t wrap your head around that. You just wanted to give him a hug and tell him how adorable he is. He probably wouldn’t appreciate that though. He is a grown man after all. You did hope that you two could become friends in the future though. Maybe you could take him out for ice cream someday. He seems like a guy that would like stuff like that.

Mrs. Kim said a couple of words in what you assumed was Korean before all of them except Junseo went outside again. She sounded so French when she talked English, but looked and talked Korean. You were confused. Maybe you were just absolutely horrible at telling apart accents.You were all just standing there so you asked them both to take a seat on your couch to get a more comfortable atmosphere. They happily obliged, you took a seat in the beanbag tucked in the corner of the room. It was silent for what felt like five seconds before Mrs.Kim opened her mouth again.

“I actually really need you to take a look at these documents with me (y/n). The CEOs of BigHit have required me to present this to you before our travel tomorrow. It is documents regarding your future in the company. Unfortunately, you don’t really have a choice of being a part of the company or not. Not only because of Jimin’s contract with BigHit but also his line of work. But they have tried to make it as fair as possible for you with this contact.”

The previous big smile that decorated Mrs.Kim’s face had become smaller as she kept talking. You had already tried to prepare for worst-case scenarios, so keeping calm wasn’t as hard as you had first thought. It made sense to. Everybody knows that if you get matched with a famous person that you are basically bound to both them and their work for the rest of your life. You felt bad for the ones that had found at who they were only to have it all be ripped away to become a personal healing bag for their famous soulmate.

You were also kind of happy though. Everyone in your life seems to know exactly who they are. What work they wanna do, their personality, what their style is, and what their dreams and goals are. You honestly didn’t know anything about yourself. You still haven’t found out who you are or what you want to do with your life. That was a good thing now though. Because if you don’t have anything to lose then people can’t take anything from you.

But why did they ask for Mrs.Kim to show me the contract now? Why couldn’t we just do that after arriving in Korea?

“He has requested you to show them to me now? Why can’t it wait until we have arrived in Seoul?”

Mrs.Kim nodded before looking down at the stack of paper in her hands.

“Well, even though they know that you wouldn’t run off to another entertainment company and ask for a job. They just need to make sure. Have it in black on white you know. It also is to make you more relaxed. In the contact that they wish for you to sign is a promise from them as a company. They want you to know that they are going to protect both you and your loved ones from the media and the fans. It is also a promise from them that they are going to give you work if you wish to and pay you even if you decide not to. For them, the most important thing is to know that regardless of where Jimin is or what he is doing, that you are going to be right beside him. They know that an idol can’t work without his or her soulmate after the bond as started. They need you to be around so that Jimin can keep working.”

“And in return, I give them what? All of what you just said sounds too good to be true.” You said. Your voice confused.

“In return” she continues. “In return, you give us your absolute loyalty. It really isn’t anything more than that. This isn’t a contact meant to screw you over (y/n). We know how bad it can all end if an idol doesn’t have their soulmate around twenty-four seven”

Junseo had made his way to your kitchen, probably to give the two of you some privacy to discuss this. It had to be a little uncomfortable just sitting there and watching this conversation progress. You saw him looking at the pictures hanging on your refrigerator. You had filled the whole surface of the refrigerator with photos from back home, and your trips to different parts of the world. The voice of Mrs.Kim brought you back to the conversation.

“You see (y/n), it has been a few thousand cases in South Korea with Idols not having their soulmates around them enough. And everybody knows how wrong things can go with too little physical contact. Both idol and their soulmate would get very sick and in the worst cases die. The things that are different between other companies and ours is that we are willing to use a lot of money, time, and resources on our idol’s soulmate. Because we care and we know that it is what we must do to keep our idols healthy and happy. We have seen how much we can get back from it too. Let’s say that you are happy spending time with us in this company. That can result in you being willing to show up for events and interviews. It can make you want to work with us too, maybe within music or dance, or maybe things like doing modeling jobs. It can also mean that you may be willing to do social media stuff, it is a huge market in that now. But you are never going to want to have anything to do with us if we don’t treat you like family”

She raised her shoulders a little, sitting more back on the couch. “However way you twist and turn around on this (y/n), you are good for the company. When this goes out into the public in just a few hours, things are going to blow up. Everyone is going to be talking about it. This is something that not only Jimin, his family, band members, and us in the company have been waiting for, but also the fans. It must be close to a gazillion hours of videos of Jimin on the Internet. A lot of those videos are him talking about you. His soulmate that he so desperately wants to find. The fans are going to be so excited for him when the news is out. So the PR is going to be amazing for the company.”

“That’s why BigHit doesn’t want much from you. The only thing that contract is requiring from you is that you don’t work for anyone else. That whatever work you want to do is going to be under BigHit, and that BigHit has the rights on whatever public works you do. It isn’t bad right?”

You nodded your head trying to digest the information. It didn’t sound bad at all. You had read so many horror stories about famous people’s soulmate being abused or taken advanced off by their soulmates company. It didn’t sound like the company that your soulmate works for did things that way. You should be happy and grateful for that you thought.

“Okay, I will sign it.”

The next morning was the most chaotic morning you had ever experienced.

Well not for you really. You had just been sitting at the floor with Mrs.Kim for the last hour drinking coffee and watching the moving people packing away all your stuff. But it was tiring to watch. And a little bit uncomfortable to not be helping. You had asked but all the men would just give you a smile and then bow before continuing on.You had taken that as a thank you, but no thank you.

Everything was gone in under two hours. You didn’t have a lot of stuff, but they packed everything so neatly. It was almost painful to watch them fold every clothing item you owned perfectly before packing it away. You thought your closet was quite organized but not enough for them apparently.

Mrs.Kim has told you that they were not Korean but Japanese. And also, that the same moving company had helped them every time the group that Jimin was a part of, had moved. They were supposedly the best of the best.

It was really quite in the streets, mostly because the clock only was eight in the morning. Most of the tourists are still asleep. So the moving crew had been able to pack everything up and leave without anyone noticing.Mrs. Kim told you that it would be best to pack up everything when there are fewer people around. The fewer the people the less attention.

The news of you and Jimin had dropped yesterday. And even though Mrs.Kim wouldn’t tell you anything, you could tell that it has become big news. She had talked on the phone for hours with someone you assumed was working for the company as well. She had talked in a low and stressful voice and even though you didn’t understand a word Korean, you knew that that conversation was something she didn’t want you to understand.

So she hasn’t told you anything though. You had tried to ask her about it but she would only answer that it was nothing for me to worry about and that it is being handled.

You did worry though, but she didn’t give you much time to. Because as soon as the moving truck had left you were lead out to the cars as well. You would be leaving in two different cars. You, Mrs.Kim, and Junseo were leaving in one car while Seurong, Yucheon, and Hyun would leave in another.

You and Mrs.Kim have taken the back seats as Junseo would drive. The car was filled to the brim with tension. As both you and Mrs.Kim refuse to make any eye contact. You could tell she was nervous, and it made you uneasy as well. The only comfort you got was from Junseo through the rear-view mirror as he would give you small smiles and winks whenever you would catch his gaze.

The last days had gone by so fast. You were just happy that you had gotten the time to give everyone that was important to you on that island a goodbye in person before you left. Even though you wished you had more time with everyone you knew that if you had asked for more you would have given Mrs.Kim a heart attack. And you weren’t that keen on having to explain to the company that you had killed one of their employees. You don’t think they would be so nice to you anymore if you had.

When you were getting close to the airport you noticed Mrs.Kim straighten up. She looked more alert as she eyed the people around the airport. Then after we stopped right outside the terminal one door she let out a breath and started to look more relaxed again. She turned to Junseo and told him something in Korean with a smile.

What suddenly made them so happy?

The door on your side suddenly opened, making you flinch before turning around to face a smirking Yucheon. You blush a little as he started to giggle of your reaction.

“You can come out now, me and Junseo will take you to the first-class lounge so you can eat something before our plane leaves”

Oh, so he does talk English, just with an adorable accent.

“I am really hungry too, so you don’t have to worry about eating alone” He gave you a reassuring smile. It reached his eyes and gave him cute eye wrinkles.

You smiled back before making a mental note of Yucheon being a potential candidate for being your future lunch buddy when your soulmate decided to ditch you.

“Ah. Thank you, I would hate to eat alone. That’s really depressing”

He giggled a little more before making more space for you to crawl out of the car. Junseo jumped out of the car only a second after you. Then the three of you made your way into the busy airport. Mrs.Kim hadn’t followed you and neither had Hyun. You didn’t want to ask about it, it was okay for you to not know the reason behind everything. You knew it would only make you more anxious. And you didn’t want to loos your cool when you had made it this far.

The first-class lounge was mostly empty except the few people that worked in the buffet and an old couple sitting in the corner. Yucheon had informed you that the plane didn’t leave before twelve o’clock, so the three of you had almost two hours to eat our way through the buffet.

You had gotten to know both of them a little better at that time. Yucheon was twenty-eight years old and loved food, animals, tv-dramas, and long walks by a famous river that was in Seoul. Junseo was thirty years old and loved to read, travel, play video games, and go to the gym. You liked both of them a lot and found yourself wondering if it would be possible to steal Junseo from Jimin.

You had asked them both if they would like to join you for ice cream and a walk along the river that Yucheon talked about, both of them said they would love to but that we would have to wait until the news of you and Jimin had died down.

Yucheon had been shocked when you confessed to not really knowing anything about Jimin. He had been even more shocked when you told him that you haven’t even searched his name on google jet. He, of course, had thought that you were at least a little curious about him. And you are, but you are also really afraid to freak yourself out before you had even met the guy.

Naturally Yucheon and Junseo we’re both eager to tell you everything they knew, even though you interested on that they don’t.

“You know” started Junseo.

“He really has been putting a lot of effort to make everything perfect before you come. Not just after he got the letter, but for as long as I have worked for BigHit”

He stopped eating and laid down his fork before he leaned more back into the couch.

“He talked about you daily, even before knowing your name. He would always say stuff like ‘I can’t wait to show her this’ or is bet she would love to see this’. It was always about you. Everything he does he does for you. I remember having to wake him up one time. He had fallen asleep in the car on the way to rehearsal. He was crying in his sleep, and when I woke him up he said ‘why does TISO use so much time to find her?’ And ‘I have paid them so much to make it go faster because I need her now. Why can’t they just find her now? I need her now.”

He picked up his fork again and took a big bite of the pasta dish he was eating.

“You know, he really is a good guy. But he has a big heart that breaks easily. So be nice to him, please. He really is trying his best. So don’t be mad at him for not knowing enough English to express himself or communicating with you properly. Just tell him it’s okay, and that you will learn together. Because I can’t handle to see him heartbroken, especially after longing for you for such a long time”

Junseo seemed to really love Jimin. He wouldn’t have told me this if he didn’t.

You just nodded and told him you that he didn’t have to worry. Your first language wasn’t English ether so you know that learning a new language could be hard. You wouldn’t judge someone because of it.

By that time Mrs.Kim had called them and informed us that we could board the plane soon. You had made your way through the terminal and before you even knew you were sitting in first class on a plane ready to leave for the other side of the world.

You had never flown for more than six hours, so you were starting to feel more and more thankful for the first class tickets the longer you were in the air.

You didn’t think you would have survived in the air for so long if you had to sit in the economy.

They had served food three times throughout the flight. All of the food served were multiple courses and were served with wine. When you were not eating you enjoyed the movie collection on board. Mrs.Kim had been on a Skype call with a man you didn’t know, for a couple of hours of the flight before falling asleep. The rest of the guys seemed to be sleeping for most of the flight too. Maybe it would have been smart of you to sleep too, but you were way to nervous about landing in Seoul to fall asleep.

The thought of the cameras that would be waiting to catch a glimpse of you at the airport was all you were capable of thinking about. You were thinking about how your life would be from now on, all the media and pressure didn’t match your ideal lifestyle. You were starting to question TISO’s discovery on you and Jimin as soulmates. Maybe they did a mistake or only matched you and Jimin together because they got paid a lot by him or his company and didn’t find his soulmate fast enough.

It didn’t seem right to you.

You've dreamed of having at least five or six more years alone before being matched with a guy living a quiet and boring life. You liked quiet and boring. It made you feel safe. Your mental health wasn’t stable enough to live the life Jimin was living. You prefer to not be the center of attention and would much rather be in the corner of the room than being the one that dances in the middle.

Your thoughts were stopped by the pilot's announcement over the speakers.

“ Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent into Seoul. Please turn off all portable electronic devices and make sure all your belongings are secured. Also, make sure your seat back is straight up and your seatbelt is fastened. The flight attendants will make one more round to pick up any unwanted items left. Thank you”

You looked over to Mrs.Kim. She was already looking at you. A lazy smile decorated her face. She looked so cute when she was sleepy, you wonder who was blessed with waking up to her every day.

“Are you ready (y/n)?”

You nodded. You kinda just had to be ready, because there was no way they pilots would just fly a couple of extra rounds just so you could have a little more time, now was it?

“There is no need to be nervous. I have already talked to some of our staff on the ground. They have everything under control.”

You already know that they would. The only problem is that they actually need to keep things under control. That only means it’s people waiting for you on the ground.

“(Y/n)”

You nodded and tried to give a small smile as reassurance. She didn’t need to know how much you were dying on the inside right now.

“I need you to remember to stay close to Junseo when we land. Your baggage is going to be delivered directly to the car. All you need to do is to keep your head low and your focus on Junseo. You are going to be wearing a mask and a hoodie so that the paparazzi can’t get a clear shot of you”

You almost jumped from your seat when the plain suddenly hit the ground, only the seatbelt prevented you from it.

You had missed your favorite part of any flight. To watch out the window on the city that you were gonna stay in. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be the last time you were gonna land in Seoul, so you would just have to pay more attention next time.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we in emirates welcomes you to Seoul. The local time is six in the morning and the temperature is currently eighteen degrees Celsius. For your safety and for those around you, please remain seated until the ‘fasten seat belt’ sign is turned off. Thank you”

The next minutes passed almost too quickly. All of you were all packed up and on your way out of the plane in what felt like only a minute.

Mrs.Kim had given you a big pink hoodie with ‘BTS’ written on the front and a black mask. Junseo was walking in front and had his arm stretched out for you. You quickly accepted and gripped his hand hard. You swear you had seen Junseo flinch from the power of your tight hold on him.

You had walked through security control and passport control completely alone. Big Hit had to have something to do with the luxury treatment you thought.

They hadn’t asked many questions after receiving your passport and confirmation from TISO on your soulmate. They had stamped your passport and told you something in Korean before giving you a smile followed by a bow.

And then you were on your way towards a door to what you assumed was the main terminal of the airport. But nobody from your travel group told you anything. Junseo only offered his hand to you again as Mrs.Kim dragged the hood of the hoodie over your head and made sure the mask was sitting right.

“Keep your head down and don’t freeze. We have to move fast (y/n).”

“I understand” was the only thing you could think of saying. You just had to trust these people that you had only known for three days to keep you safe.

No problem.

As you got closer to the metal door you started to hear the noise from the other side. As soon as Yucheon opened the door the people on the other side exploded in screams.

You had loosened your hold on Junseo hand and tried to take a step back. But he had only fastened his hold on you and given you a thigh squeeze. Mrs.Kim placed her hand on your back before shoving you out the door.

The flashlights were blinding. You tried your hardest to keep your focus on Junseo’s moving feet and on Mrs.Kim’s hand that had made its way around your waist.

You lifted your gaze slightly. But not enough to look over Junseo’s big shoulders. You did, however, get a glimpse of the barricade that was blocking you from them. It hanged a lot of signs on it. Papers in all of the rainbow's colors with colorful writing on them.

“Welcome to Korea (y/n),” one said.

“Army supports you,” another one said.

Why the hell would the Korean army support me?

“Please tell Jimin to eat at” the rest was written in Korean. You assumed it was a restaurant or cafe.

You almost tripped when Junseo slowed down. A big revolving door was the reason for his now slower pace. But as soon as you had made your way through, you were quickly shown into a black van.

You felt as though you were finally able to breathe properly again.

Outside the airport young girls and boys were gathered. You could hear them even though the car doors were closed.

They were singing.

There was already a person ready in the driver's seat. Mrs. Kim had taken the front seat and Junseo had walked around the car to sit at your left side in the back.

You had no idea where Seurong, Yucheon, or Hyun was. But you could imagine them being in some of the surrounding vehicles.

The driver that you didn't know the name of, told Mrs. Kim something with a smile before starting to drive. The singing from the people outside the airport soon disappeared. You were left with only the motor of the car as noise. You pay close attention to everything passing by. This was the city you were most likely going to live in for all of the remaining years of your life. So you tried your best to remember buildings that looked exiting or places that you would like to later explore.

It was exciting, you couldn't lie. Seoul was truly a stunning city. It was extraordinary to see such a beautiful contrast between the old and the new buildings. You could almost feel the culture in the air as you got deeper and deeper into the city.

An extremely tall building caught your eye.

”What is that?” you asked. Everybody else that was in the car flinched. You had tried not to make your voice loud, but the car was just too quiet. Any noise that would occur would certainly scare anyone.

”what? Where?” Junseo was leaning over you to watch out your side of the car. His eyes frantically searching for whatever had caught your attention.

”that!” you tried to point your index finger as precisely a possible. Letting your finger push hard against the glass window and closing your left eye. Junseo tried to follow your finger to what it was pointing towards.

”ahh, that is lotte tower, I can take you there sometime. They have a nice bar in one of the top floors with an amazing view of Seoul” He had started at the building as he was talking to you. Your finger only left the window after he was done explaining about the tower.

The drive through the city went slow. The traffic wasn't bad, but it felt like they had a stoplight at every corner in the whole city center. But it could also be because of the awkward tension between everyone in the car. They all know that when you arrive, they are going to be the witnesses to you and Jimins first meeting.

No pressure right?

You were really nervous though. And it was uncomfortable to think about people watching your first meeting with Jimin. You found yourself wondering if that's how it's always gonna be with Jimin. He was famous after all. You had just hoped that you would have this moment for yourself.

You were starting to see that you were arriving on the rich side of town. Every building, flower, bench, and even the crosswalk looked expensive. You didn't belong here.

You suddenly stopped at a security gate. A huge fence blocking the car from continuing on driving. One of the two men guarding the gate came up to the driver's window. The other man was walking around the car and looking at me and Junseo. Mrs. Kim has just leaned over the driver to hand some papers to the security guard, not really seeming nervous about the men. They had talked only a couple of sentences each before Mrs.Kim turned around to look at me.

”This is as far as we are allowed to take you today, (y/n). These kind men will walk you up this hill to Jimins apartment. You can just walk straight in, the door is unlocked.”

You weren't ready. But then again you probably never would.

”okay, thanks guys. For the drive and all that.” you said looking down at your hands that we're lying comfortably on your lap.

”hey.” Junseo took your left hand and squeezed tightly. Then he gave you a piece of paper with his name and number on it.

”you know we are all just a phone call away if you need us. But I doubt you will. I know Jimin is gonna keep you busy. He has basically planned for this for his whole life. You are going to be eating good food, see beautiful places, have lots of fun, and meet everyone important to him. I promise you are gonna have the best time of your life, I am honestly a little afraid you might forget me after a few weeks with him.

You laughed. Tears were forming in the corner of your eyes. You couldn't tell if it was from nerves, happiness, or sadness. It almost felt like a mix of them all.

”thank you. I really appreciate you Junseo. Don't be mad though, when I start calling you about ice cream and that walk we talked about. I can be a bit annoying if things don't happen fast enough for me.”

You could see Mrs. Kim smile in the corner of your eyes.

«I like annoying.” was all Junseo said before you stepped out of the car. Only carrying your hand luggage, you had no idea when the rest would arrive.

The tall building he lived in was intimidating. It seems to reach beyond the clouds. Not the best place for one with a fear of heights, especially when he lives on the top two floors. You though the guard that followed you to the building was joking with you when he gave you a keycard to the elevator and told you to press floor number fifty-two.

The guard had let out a laugh at your reaction but did little to help you other than giving you a kind smile and a point with his index finger to the elevator.

He obviously didn't speak a word English, but you still found him cute with all his hand gestures and his broken English.

”Okay, okay, I am going don't worry. You can go down to your friend again. I just need a minute to try to calm myself before going into that death trap.”

He only let out another laugh but didn't move an inch.

Great.

You give the poor guy a smile before turning around and going into the elevator, pressing the fifty-second floor, and scanning your new keycard. You turned with your back to the door and faced the mirror that was covered the whole wall. Your make-up is completely ruined by your long journey and you find yourself regretting not using the time from the airport to jimins house to try to look at least a little more presentable.

You had decided to wear a navy blue jumpsuit. It was pretty and you slightly prayed that it would be enough to distract him from your face.

”hello.”

You haven't even noticed the elevator door opening, but as you lifted your gaze you saw his eyes on you through the mirror. He was standing in the hallway without shoes on.

He looked like an angel. Wearing all white and many accessories. The clothes he was wearing was baggy but made with a thin fabric, so thin that you could see the outline of the tattoo on his ribcage. His rings we're all gold-colored with different colored gemstones. His outfit was planned but relaxed.

Dark but gentle eyes started intensely on you. They held the stars. He had tears threatening to fall in the corners on both eyes, but you only saw it becomes the light hit his face perfectly, making his eyes shine.

He was biting the corner of his lip, as he was slightly swaying back and forth, shifting between one foot and the other.

Then you realized.

He was just as nervous as you.

”hi.”

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